#p-force

[c00chi3munch3r]

getting pounded by a butch's strap while they whisper, "that's it, take it like a good girl"

[darkmemesworld]

Why when im scrolling through a tag i flashed by cho0chie 😦?

All jokes aside i had posted a meme and not even 3 minutes later it got flagged.. and im starting to see a lot of prn bots is it just me???

But why did my stuff get flagged but bots thats are showing naked people still up 🤔

[vaquerolvr]

plushie violence

synopsis: the cod men abuse your plushies

ੈ✩‧₊˚gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, keegan

cw: none

an: lets ignore that it’s been over a month when i said a week…irl stuff got busy and my daredevil hyperfixation has been beating my ass 😔

masterlist

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[call-of-daydreams]

Keegan: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Y/n: Yes.

Keegan: I love you.

Y/n: It back.

*five minutes later*

Laswell: Why is Keegan crying face down on the floor?

[tojisteddy]

Keegan P. Russ headcanons.

now playing: void in blue by glare

such chill and melancholy vibes. A home body at heart. Spends his time listening to music and drawing, reading books, only watches movies through dvd or vhs. Doesn’t use social media often, or his phone. a terrible texter, worse on calls, just go and see him. He likes any time of bar, from the high end to the low ball. Loves going to art exhibitits and museums, walks in the park, swimming at the beach. Genuinely the type to be off on some one day/evening adventure with strangers and then if you asked him what he was busy doing he’d shrug “fucking around.” The type to draw and post on a blog but with no tags, riding around on his motorcycle with no destination, random trips, getting random keychains and trading them out on his keys. refrigerator full of magnets, pictures at random concerts.

Probably grew up in a trailer park with parents who were in and out. Not bad per se but they just- they weren’t there. So he parented himself, find solace in aloneness. Very quiet but has very random friends from young to old. Probably moved to some sea side, (like the Great Lakes or Seattle). The type to randomly call from a random phone number when he’s away or a pay phone because he knows your phone number by heart and wants to hear your voice for five or ten minutes. Sleeps in late and goes to sleep late. Yawns and yawns when he’s lazing around the house. Wavy hair, has moose stocked in the bathroom cabinet. Calls you ‘kid’ ‘kiddo’ ‘gorgeous’. Loves to baby you, play with your hair, feed you, pick you up when your leaving or heading to bed. Pretty straightforward when he had an issue, he’ll nod his head, snatching a pack of cigarettes, ‘let’s talk for a bit kid.’ A few tattoos, not noticeable at first or second glance, a tiny bit of chest hair, a hooked nose (the nose is canon). Loves to lean down in your face, a smug look on his face, he’ll tap his lips, ‘Come on gorgeous, gimmie a kiss’ you’ll give him one and he’ll look off, still smug as ever, ‘one more baby, come on.’ Total bully in bed.

listening to: Limp Bizket, Beastie Boys, Radiohead, Foo Fighters, Deftones, Mac Ayres, Kali Uchis, Sombr, Vacations, Mac DeMarco,

a/n: I know this doesn’t aline with the game so this is like an au where the world isn’t dystopian & he doesn’t go AWOL. also I know no one gaf. This was for me. Does Keegan have a Daddy kink? Yes, it’s mild. Next caller.

masterlist

[punkkture]

john price x f!reader w two p!links

mdni

dead dove: john is a married man + its not to you, age gap, grody hotel room sex word count: 827

how it starts ⁀➴ ₊⊹ p!link

—  john just loves you. never in his life has he been stuffed inside something so sweet and gentle. it was his favorite part about being done with deployments.

and he has never prided himself on being a good man. but he’d try to be, for you, in some sick way. even if you’ve never been allowed over to his house or warm in his bed, john tells himself he’ll do better. so he brings you a sweet bouquet of flowers and a little gift every time one of these escapades happens.

he calls his wife to tell her that he’s caught up late, he missed his flight back home or he’s just so tired he needs to find a hotel to sleep in before he passes out from exhaustion! he’s a smart man, he knows how to get her to not question him, too much.

and that’s when he can finally unlock the hotel room door and give you your much deserved sweet kisses.

"missed you pretty thing . . . thought about you the whole time." his cockney accent purrs into your ears while he’s groping your tits and kissing your cheek and lips.

“i missed you too.” your gentle voice speaks passed the smile on your face.

if john didn’t have you so conditioned, you might just think he’s gross for going behind his wife's back to sleep with you. but he’s told you a whole bunch of times that she’s just making it difficult for him to get a divorce! he really doesn’t even want her! and in fact, he told you that she basically forced him to marry her!

so you don’t think twice when he’s buried all the way deep inside you, pressing your legs back against your body - his big hands placed so carefully on your scalp. just giving you such loving and sweet kisses while fucking into your soppy hole.

"can't ever get enough of this little cunt." john groans in between making out.

the small room immediately filled with gasps and squeaks mixed in with involuntary moans that are just seeping out of you. it always feels so good when its with him. his thick cock filling into your tight cunt just so perfectly.

he's far older than you, at least by fifteen years, and it feels right. having someone so experienced walk you down the path and teach you what it means to be in love. guide you through each harsh thrust and spiraling orgasm. he knows what he's doing, and it's euphoric.

all john wants to do is kiss you over and over again and be reminded of his own youth. living it through you in a strange sense. getting to see that naive spark in your eye when he tells you he loves you, or showing you what it's like to cum just from a fat dick for the first time. he likes that, keeps him young.

and he would do anything it takes to get you for one night anytime he comes back from deployment. he really is trying to separate from his wife, and he can't wait to see the way everyone reacts when he shows off his new pretty honey only days after its settled.

he wants to hold you closer, stuffing you full in a mating press and kissing you over and over again isn't enough. turning you onto your side so he can fuck into you from behind is just what he needs.

"right there, sweets? yeah, you like it like this?"

wrapping his gruff arms around your chest and making sure your leg is draped over his so he can get even deeper. cradling your fragile body close to his heart and bullying into you persistently until you're squirming and pleading for something, anything.

kissing you before spitting onto his fingers to play with that sensitive little spot between your legs. he knows just how to please his pretty doll. and he doesn't relent until he can feel you grasp for the sheets, tightening around him and creaming onto his thick cock.

"ohh look at that . . . cumming f'me so easily." he coos mockingly, watching how your body reacts to him.

and when you do, he's pulling you closer and groping your tits, making sure to look right at your face when it happens. stuffing himself a little deeper and stilling so you have something to squeeze around - fucking into you again and again until his warm cum spills out and makes a mess of the hotel bed spread.

how it ends ⁀➴ ₊⊹ p!link

—  john can hardly comprehend your delicate form. holding such a special place in his heart and soul. its like you were made for him and he was made for you.

his big arms wrapping around your sweaty and sticky body, keeping your skin on his while murmuring sweet praises into your ear.

"you're so special my darling, won't ever find a pretty birdie like you anywhere else."

no one can tell me that the man in those vids doesn't kinda look like john . . . LIKE JUST SQUINT IF U DONT BELIEVE ME

ೃ࿔* tag list: @vanillarosekiss @simonskitty @cu456 @silverwoodlynx @mlthree @vint4geroses @ktmjoslin @darlingchanse @xangelbnnyx @jgissle12 @asherscove @bunty-girl @diorpar @sky-robin @ldrtypeofgirl @mentalhorror @teranya @chawitea @all-by-myself98 @jinx53 @alfiestreacle @frazzledfawn @jensensluvr @iamtoriasworld @annierosesposts @dude1634 @happysmappy @itgetsdarksometimes35 @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @slut-lmao @theyluvlaur @bittersweetfig @pinkthxt @hobiebrownenthusiast @h0lydrag0ns @venuzdaugther @cashmereandcookies 

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Y/N: I'm at that very special age where I only have one thing on my mind Soap: Masked men? Y/N: Homicide Y/N: But yeah masked men too

[kiss4tell]

𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐏✩𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, task force 141.

happy valentines day to everyone who daydreams about getting dicked down by their favorite 141 boys ₊˚⊹♡

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ༝༚༝༚ after a long, exhausting day that left simon sweaty and sore, all he wanted was to come home to his sweet angel, to hold you in his arms and let the weight of the world melt away. so when he walked through the door and saw you in the kitchen, making his favorite dinner in nothing but those pretty little panties and his shirt slipping off your shoulder, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. he pulled you into the bedroom, taking his time, making sure you felt every inch of him inside you, letting you know exactly what you do to him.

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 ༝༚༝༚ johnny never had much luck in relationships—either his emotional baggage was too much, or his… passion in the sack was a little overwhelming. so when the prettiest bird he’s seen in a long, long time comes up to him at the bar, hitting him with brain-melting pickup lines that leave him weak in the knees, he knows he has to take you home. he has to show you exactly how much he appreciates the ego boost, and he does it in the only way he knows how—with his cock, making damn sure you know just how wanted you are.

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 ༝༚༝༚ as much as john would love to drive you into the mattress the second he comes home from a three-week-long deployment, he knows you deserve more than that—you’ve been waiting so patiently for him, after all. so instead, he takes his time, worshipping you with his hands, tracing them over every inch of your body like he’s memorizing you all over again, pressing kisses to your heated skin before finally pumping his fingers inside you, watching the way your pretty face changes with every curl, every stroke, every sweet little noise that slips from your lips.

𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐞 ༝༚༝༚ there’s nothing kyle loves more than watching every expression you make as he takes you in missionary, his dark eyes drinking in every flutter of your lashes, every parted gasp, every way your body reacts to him. he times his thrusts just right, keeping his pace deep and calculated, watching the way your tits bounce with each one, unable to resist pinching them, suckling them, cupping them in his hands just to see you squirm. his lips stay close to your ear, whispering praise after praise, letting you know exactly how much you mean to him, exactly how good you feel wrapped around him, exactly how fucking lucky he is to have you.

[ar-mage-ddon]

there was never any other way this could've gone

( EPHEMERWEEK 6: prophecy )

[starsapphire]

dick grayson is so motherless that a total stranger thought he was pathetic enough to take back home with her like a stray kitten

[thelesbianthespianposts]

X Men 97 works because Magneto and Scott have the exact same beliefs but exact opposite types of autism that makes it impossible for them to ever work together. Many such cases

[vaquerolvr]

random texts pt.2

synopsis: random texts with the cod guys

ੈ✩‧₊˚ price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, makarov, keegan, nikolai

cw: none

an: stole these from pinterest again. i forgot my laptop so posts will be sporadic for the next two weeks ^^

masterlist

dividers from @/saradika-graphics :)

[lay-z]

I'm in a ✨️ mood ✨️ This is for you @bloodytalefeathers :)

Synopsis: When life gets rough, you forget about your "soft era", and tend to fall back into your toxic traits and coping mechanisms; feigning toughness and hyper-independence until you can crumble and break comfortably behind closed doors. Only nowadays, your loving boyfriend can read the signs and intervene before things can get out of hand.

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: MDNI 18+ | established romantic relationship; soft!dom!Keegan; lots of comfort; some angst; tw: eating disorder; FLUFF; dirty talk/cussing; fingering; squirting; overstimulation; two idiots in love

Keegan smirks to himself when the sound of you dropping your keys at the front door reaches his trained ears, followed by the door slamming shut, your exasperated sigh and grumbled curses.

There is no malice behind his quiet snicker; he's simply happy that you're finally home, and he can’t see you yet, but he can already pick up on the mood you’re in by simply listening.

He can easily hear it in the pitch of your voice, which cuss words you're using and the way you stomp your feet as you walk.

And he watches wordlessly from his spot on the couch, PS5 controller in hand and an ice-cold beer on the coffee table, as you drag yourself across the open spaced living room, uttering a half-assed "Hey, baby." to him before disappearing down the other hallway towards your shared bedroom ‒ barely sparing him a glance nor telling him to use a coaster under the bottle for the umpteenth time, like you usually would. 

The former Marine is almost offended by the lack of attention from you; always craving it like the good ol' devil dog he is, though he lets you get away with it ‒ for now, at least. 

His dark brows furrow, eyes flickering down at the table before he grabs one of said coasters anyway, the one with the comic ghost print, just to be safe the next time you come by the living room. Surely, you'll ask him about his day on duty soon, like you always do, and then he'll ask you about yours, working at the office at HQ here on base, and you'll tell him all about it while you curl up next to him on the couch before watching him play for a while.

You don't come back, though.

And when Keegan finally glances at his watch, it's been way over an hour since you came home from work, and he's starting to get suspicious. Hesh, Logan, and Kick keep yapping in the PS party, talking shit over their respective headsets as they play, though their voices merely become background noise to Keegan as his attention begins to shift to more important matters. 

Namely, you. 

Where are his kisses? Why haven't you bitten him randomly yet? Are you mad at him for being away most of the week without proper communication? You're not on your period; he has memorized your cycle by now. Are you pissed off, because he's playing video games right now? But you've never complained about that before, you're a gamer yourself after all, and if there is something that pisses you off, you’d let him now. 

His mind begins to wander and spiral, as it does sometimes when he's getting unsure of something (especially when it comes to you), and before things can escalate, he mentally chides himself and bids a hasty goodbye to his friends and teammates, and before they can even start to protest his early departure, he’s turning off the console. 

Something is obviously up with his sweetheart and he's more than determined to figure out what it is. 

Meanwhile, you’re inside the ensuite bathroom of the master bedroom. You’ve finally stripped off your tight pencil skirt that has been pushing into your stomach uncomfortably, and the confining blouse that has been tucked into the waistband, along with it. The pair of tights which seam has been chafing between your inner thighs all day, finally comes to rest in the small trash bin next to the bathroom sink, and same goes for the bra which wire has been digging into your flesh after breaking through the fabric, leaving your skin all sore and tender below your breasts. 

You’ve barely slept all week, barely eaten anything too, except drinking copious amounts of coffee; work has kicked your ass thoroughly and the death of one of the operators – a young, good man KIA – from a task force you’ve been working closely with for the past months, has left you in a state of shock that you didn’t even have the chance to deal with properly yet. 

Needless to say, your life has been a proper shit show and on top of it all, Keegan has been just as busy, if not busier, which has left you feeling even more needy and vulnerable this week. Seeing him finally being able to unwind on the couch when you came home, only made you realize that you can’t possibly bother him with your pathetic clinginess tonight, so you simply kept on walking, determined to hide your misery for a little while longer. 

Just a little longer. That’s what you keep telling yourself. Just a little longer and things will surely get better. Even though you’re not actively doing anything to make it better, no. In fact, you’ve been slipping back into old habits, toxic coping mechanisms, that either hurt your body or your soul. Sometimes both. It’s not good, but it is what it is. 

It has worked out in the past. That’s good enough to you. It must be. 

Eventually, you manage to step into the shower to try and get rid of some tension in your body and that nagging, piercing headache in the front of your skull that’s been bothering you for days now, though to little avail. It’s still there after the steaming shower you take, but it has somehow simmered down to a dull throb now as you towel off and slip on one of Keegan’s old USMC shirts along with a clean pair of cotton panties. 

Just when Keegan is about to get up from the couch to look for you, his ears pick up the sound of your bare feet coming down the hallway, cutely padding along the hardwood floor. 

His chest constricts tightly, fluttering with sweltering affection, when you finally come into view again, wearing one of his old shirts, the dark fabric a bit too baggy on you, with nothing but some panties underneath. He can see that you’re not wearing a bra and he tries to ignore the way his cock twitches with interest inside his boxer briefs to focus on your well-being instead, but – shit – you always look too good in his clothes to not acknowledge and appreciate it at least briefly. 

However, the look you shoot in his direction, standing a few feet away from him, shuffling on the spot a little as you play with the hem of his your shirt, is downright heartbreaking to him. 

You look like a tiny, lost and drenched kitten that has been left outside in the freezing cold. It reminds him of the beginning of your relationship, when he had worked hard for your trust and honesty. Back when he had to coax you to open up to him; cooing and coddling and pampering you until you felt safe and comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable in his presence. 

Now, though, now Keegan can read you better than the palm of his own hand. One good glance at your beautiful face and he knows that you’re not okay, if not physically then mentally, and he suddenly feels his stomach tighten with guilt and self-loathing for not noticing it sooner. 

The corners of your mouth are pulling downward with a quivering bottom lip, chin wobbling as you try to keep your emotions in check in front of him like the little control freak you are, eyes glossy and bright and your eyebrows pinched in a sad frown. 

Keegan knows the answer, but he decides to ask anyway. “You okay there?” 

As soon as your eyes meet his pretty pale blue gaze, you see his usually stoic expression soften, his toned body shifting as he sits up straighter on the couch, and you can feel your throat tighten as you try to swallow around the tight lump forming in it. When his question registers, you shake your head slowly, huffing a small breath through your nose as the dam, still holding back the myriads of negative emotions, finally begins to crack under the ongoing pressure. 

Keegan feels an immediate need to pull you into his arms as soon as he watches you shaking your head. He wants to make you curl up on his lap and let him take care of you the way you obviously need him to, but he stays seated as one of his legs starts bouncing restlessly, waiting on you to make the first move once you’re ready. 

His resolve doesn’t last long, though. 

“C’mere, baby.” He orders then, holding out his arms to beckon you over as soon as he sees a tear brim past your waterline and run down your cheek. At this point, he’s more than ready to simply snatch you up if you don’t comply. 

But then, your bare feet pad over the floor again as you swiftly approach, rounding the coffee table to practically fling yourself into his strong, welcoming arms, making him huff out a muffled oof! as he sinks deeper into the couch cushions with the impact of your added weight. 

Keegan’s hands settle on your hips as you crawl onto his lap, straddling him. Your weak arms come up to wrap around his neck while you bury and hide your face against the curve of his shoulder, and Keegan lets out a soft, pleased rumble when you cling on to him. His respond is immediate, and he wraps his strong arms around your midriff, hugging you even closer to his body.  

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your damp hair, inhaling your comforting scent deeply as he slowly rubs your back with his right hand while the left strokes up and down the side of your bare thigh soothingly. “Why are you shaking, sweetheart? What happened? C’mon, talk to me, please.” 

Keegan can feel your tears soak through his shirt as you bury your face deeper into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and when the sound of your suppressed sobs and snivels reaches his ears, there’s a sharp sting in his chest before his own vision nearly blurs with tears, too. 

Missed you. He missed you. God, you’d missed him, too, but then again, Keegan can sit right next to you, and you’d miss him. 

“I–I can’t–I just... I need you.” You manage to croak out while your fingers twist and stretch the fabric of his shirt on your fists, desperate to keep him close, scared he might disappear if you loosen your grasp. 

“Need me,” Keegan repeats in a rough whisper while his mind races, trying to come up with the right way to handle this. Need me. Fuck, but he needs you, too. “How exactly do you need me?” He asks eventually, left hand coming up to gently massage the nape of your neck until you let him tilt your head back enough to catch another glimpse of your face. 

Your eyes are red-rimmed, glossy, pupils blown and surrounded by broken blood vessels. Your lips look dry, your skin lacking your natural glow, and a sinking feeling settles deep in his gut as he realizes how sickly you look. Neglected. Weak. How did he not notice sooner? 

His fingers tighten their hold, his thumb pressing deeper into your neck to check your fluttering pulse, making sure you’re still with him, still alive. “Sweetheart–” 

He watches your eyes flutter, blinking away tears as you exhale a shuddering breath. “Please,” you rasp softly, swallowing thickly as you gather all your courage to speak your next words, even though your mind, those damn insecurities, are cursing at you not to, “–just kiss me.” 

His breathing picks up, along with his heartrate. You can practically watch his pupils dilate at once, pale blue turning a dark shade of grey while his blood rushes south almost instantly at the desperate sound of your voice. And that you can feel, too. The way his cock begins to stir and harden underneath you between your spread thighs while his fingers continue to massage the nape of your neck, slowly managing to get you to relax, like a kitten being scruffed into submission. 

The only warning is an imperceptible nod, a quick swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip while his arm around your midriff tightens, before Keegan surges forward to capture your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. 

You're not quite sure how much time has passed at this point, but some random movie is still playing on TV, illuminating the living room this late in the evening, while you've been reduced to a quaking, panting, shivering mess, still seated on Keegan's lap. 

He’s stripped you bare, switched your position to have your back flush against his chest before coaxing four orgasms from you with practiced ease. Then again, pushing you over the edge quickly has never been a challenge for Keegan, quite the opposite.  

Now, your mind has shut off; your body finally pliant and lax after stopping your initial protest to let Keegan do this, give this, to you. You’ve asked for it, after all, and now your headache is practically gone, and you feel blissfully warm, safe, and soft in his embrace.  

With your thighs nicely spread apart and draped over his knees, Keegan keeps alternating between rubbing your puffy little clit and pumping two, sometimes three thick fingers into your sopping cunt, curling them deliciously while he toys and gropes your tender breasts with his free hand, rolling and pinching your hard nipples between calloused fingertips until you can’t do anything but mewl and squirm helplessly in his grip.  

His cock is aching; throbbing and straining inside his boxer briefs as your sweet ass keeps grinding against his bulge involuntarily, but he's locked in on your pleasure above all right now. 

"Are you feeling any better yet, hm? I'm gonna take care of you all night long, my love. Y'know I will." 

"Always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me. Makin’ quite the mess here, hm? Not messy enough, though." He murmurs hotly just below your ear, the proud smirk audible in his voice before he nips at your flushed skin and feels your pussy clench around his fingers; soaking his whole hand, dripping down onto his sweatpants and the dark leather couch.

"Don't you think that I can't tell ya didn't take good care of yourself these past few days," he mutters accusingly before giving your pussy a few gentle slaps with his flat palm, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you; the obscene, wet sounds and your uncharacteristic moan making your face heat up profoundly. "Dehydration is pretty dangerous, baby, and I know you didn't drink nearly enough water."

Of course, the little shit can tell, but you're close again already, so the realization gets pushed into the back of your mind, because Keegan is thrilled to coax more of those sweet sounds from your lips. 

You nod slowly, borderline non-committedly. “Mhmm,” you hum with your eyes half-lidded, nails digging deeper into his clothed, thick thighs for leverage; some way to keep you anchored to reality as he rubs your clit in tight circles, coaxing you towards the edge again.

“Promise that you’ll stop hiding from me when you’re feeling like this,” he demands roughly, lips lightly brushing over the side of your neck as he speaks before he licks his flat tongue over your pulse point. 

“Promise me. Say it.” He growls this time, teeth grazing the curve of your shoulder as his hot breath pants over your skin, pruned fingers still not stopping their ministrations as you buck your hips with a whine, trying to squirm away on his lap.

You try to keep your noises at bay, but the added sensation of his warm tongue on your sensitive skin makes you shudder, and before you know it, you’re climaxing again; squeezing your eyes shut and gritting your teeth, chest heaving with panting breaths while your cunt clenches around nothing and your whole body twitches and writhes while another wave of pleasure wrecks through your body, though only the tiniest bit of wetness squirts and dribbles over his calloused hand this time.

Yes, you might be dehydrated, indeed.

“F-Fuck–I ah pr-omise, sir!” You cry out, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes once more, though this time it’s the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation bringing you to tears, along with the way your man is currently taking care of you. 

And you could swear you can feel his cock swell even harder against your rear when you call him 'sir'.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he coos huskily, peppering kisses between your shoulder blades and up to your nape as he kneads and gropes your trembling thighs, finally giving you a break. “You’re mine, I love you, and I need you to let me look after you, ya hear me?” 

Your head lolls back, resting against his shoulder as you nod meekly, butterflies going rogue in your tummy. “I hear you.” You rasp, too exhausted to be bratty and resist, slumping even more against his chest while his arms come up to wrap around you like corded steel, keeping you steady and safe. 

"Good." He mutters against your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hair and taking dramatic little sniffs like some mutt before pulling back and nipping your earlobe, making you hiss.

"Ow! What's that for?" You whine dramatically, speech slightly slurred by fatigue and bliss while you don't even bother to wiggle free from his embrace.

The pout in his deep voice is more than evident when he replies: "Didn't even say I love you back, sweetheart."

[call-of-daydreams]

Y/n: Keegan and I don't have pet names for each other.

Logan: Uh huh...

Logan: What do bees make?

Y/n: Honey?

Keegan, from the other room: Yes, dear?

Logan, whispering to you and pointing to the room Keegan is in: Don't ever lie to my face again.

[tojisteddy]

“Need a Vacation?”

or: Keegan P. Russ is feeling the effects of a terrible relationship and the bullshit around him…. Nothing his ex-fuck buddy couldn’t fix.

cw: 18+ mdni, 3.2k words, smut with plot, modern AU, morally gray! reader, ex-fuck buddy! Reader, cheating (? On Keegan’s end), childhood friends!reader, kinda toxic, reader! has tattoos, p in v, unprotected sex, parental issues, car sex, angry sex, reverse cowgirl, backshots, a bit of overstim, Keegs! talks you through it, pussy slapping.

a/n: inspo I Know by Big Sean ft Jhene Aiko

You were a temptress at heart.

Had people swooning for you just from the flutter of your long lashes.

Keegan knew that from the way you so sweetly asked the other neighborhood boys to do your choirs and they did it, got exactly what you wanted by playing nice—

He never thought it would fester into— this.

Charisma out the wazoo, an enchanting smile and voice, beauty that could match no other in that damned town you two used to swear was cursed. A place you two both said you’d get out of.

Only Keegan left.

You were unmoving, and maybe it was the things or the people keeping you there. But that little town full of hillbillies and old people and trailer homes, was what you knew best. You had eyes that could read prey so easily, get what you want and leave, and maybe Keegan was one one of them. He never knew when it came to you.

The waters that you were, changed as you got older, the man didn’t know if he was in the shallow, the deep end or getting sucked up in a whirlpool. But he couldn’t help but follow you, lost in you, a siren call.

Friends to fuck buddies was never a good idea.

It changes everything. No matter how hard you try to ignore it. Maybe it was Keegan’s first girlfriend that lasted more than half a year that everything moved so fast. Too fast for Keegan’s liking. Parents suddenly MIA, so he clung onto his girlfriend at the time— Carmen— you didn’t like her.

Not one bit.

But you weren’t rude to her, put on that charming smile, let her play freely in your field, till she made a wrong move and you stuck your fangs into her, sharp. Let the venom seep into her so she ran away.

Leaving you and Keegan alone, again.

But things change, your first heartbreak changes you, and then you suddenly get sent off to another country for a year. You try to fix the mistake of not speaking properly, call the girl who you loved— romantically? platonically?— Keegan just knew he loved you. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough to just leave you behind without a word.

You fought like two tigers on a two hour call, you were supposed to be on work break, him on a base hundreds of miles away in a different country— leaving nothing but blood on each other's mouths, scars that would take time to heal.

Thank God for distance.

But one year turns into two, two turns into three— five years pass for Keegan to come back into town.

Not for you, not for his friends, not to reminisce— to see if anything was left of his parents. They’re not dead, they call his phone from random numbers sporadically. That they’re in Mexico, or was it Switzerland the last time they called?

Somewhere that they didn’t let him call back when he was on a mission. Not voice mail either.

It bothered him to his core. Festered and festered, and created a hole of longing in a part of his heart. So he came back, said hello to some old friends— people who weren’t you— old neighbors. Asked around about his parents and why they ditched him but got left with shrugs and worry if Keegan was okay with not seeing them for long.

He didn’t answer that part, just gave a pained smile.

Empty handed, he led himself to that bar in town— by a new name in new lights and decorations. Different drunkards hung around, middle aged men and women hanging around drinking to ease the middle of the work week.

And then, like it couldn't get any better worse, there you stood. In all your glory, curls around your face, brown eyes showing through the dim and l.e.d signs, jeans hugging you perfectly, an off the shoulder, sleeveless blouse, orange and pink, your tattoos peeking through the material with every movement. It was perfect on you, a complete contrast from the regular work attire almost everyone in the bar was wearing.

You were shaking your head at something, the smallest smile on your plump lips, and your eyes wandered. You mumbled to your friends you’d be back, walking over to wear the slightly older man stood.

“Look at what the cat dragged in! Didn’t know cunts came here.” You practically sing, but you’re leering. You could hold a mean grudge.

So could Keegan.

“Didn’t know shitty brats hung around here either, guess we’re one in the same.” He hums, taking a swing of his bourbon.

“Nice one Keegs,” you scuff, “So very nice.”

His eyes are stuck on you, maybe it was you using that nickname— when’s the last time he heard that?

You pat your hands on the bar like a drum as you take a seat on the stool beside him, “How is she?”

He blinks once, twice, getting himself out of the daze that you had him in. Gorgeous girl, even sexier with time.

“Who?”

“The girl that I saw you posted not too long ago.”

Of course you fucking saw that. Despite not talking for so long you still followed each other on social media, naturally. ‘Just in case’ kind of thing. ‘just in case’ never came.

Just randomly liked posts from the both of you.

So yeah, maybe he did see you on the back of a couple peoples dirt bikes, and you snogging a couple men, that boyfriend who lasted all but a month. Did Russ hate it?

Not the question he’ll answer tonight. Let’s go back to the original question.

The girl he posted— was his girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. Or girlfriend in waiting.

They were on a “break.”

Much needed, Keegan was tired of the fighting, didn’t care for subliminal messages, the interrogations after being stuck at work till 10 pm, jealousy.

Couldn’t stand when someone wasn’t direct with what they wanted out.

“We’re having a disagreement of sorts.”

You give him a confused look but give him a smile, waving over the bartender, you click your tongue, “Right, right. ‘F course.” You nod, but you read between the lines.

Same situation, different fucking trick.

“What about you? There’s always someone playing hookie with you.”

Hell, that was your fucking problem.

Loved the chase, the adrenaline until they asked for too much. Feelings, romance, it left a sour taste in your mouth.

Because the man you wanted, the man beside you, didn’t choose you.

You were over though, right? It was a silly little crush.

This was just friendly conversation.

“I’m taking a break for right now,” you decide, your finger goes around the rim of the new cocktail glass the bartender sat down in front of you.

“Been out dancin though, always out fuckin dancin.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Keegan amused, when you two used to sneak into clubs and college parties, you danced like it’d be your last night on earth. Tipsy or not, it was like some form of worship for you. Leave whatever bullshit you had right on the floor. And Keegan, absolutely adored you for it. Could watch you swish your hips all night, drag him on the dance floor for a dance or two. It was fun together. You two against the world.

You inhale, “What about Alex, you heard from him?” You ask, lips dancing.

Alex- or Ajax- was another childhood friend between you two. You weren’t as close to him, but Keegan and Alex were best friends.

“He’s still on my ass about every-fucking-thing, gossipy little shit,” Keegs groans playfully and you giggle.

“Some things never change.”

The night is a breeze after that, maybe one drink more split between the both of you but nothing more. Both of you treading lightly, enjoying each others company despite the obvious rift. Ignoring the small awkward pauses by telling stories of the shit you’ve too have gone through during the time apart.

It feels— right for once.

A time where Keegan doesn’t have to worry about anything, his shoulders relax, and the light in his blue eyes feel like them come back. Just for a little while.

The other problem though, you. Who lingered at the back of his mind. Maybe that was what held him back, he was comparing them to you. And he knows he’s dead wrong for it. But he thought maybe you’d go away, fall in love with another man, get married, have kids— the whole shabang!

It only annoyed him more.

A rift, he doesn’t even remember what he or you said that tipped it off. But you too butt heads like you always did back when you were close. Closer than close, arguing with you brought you two that odd normality. Like two kids at the playground who’d make up soon enough. Just, adults this time.

With festering anger. Jealousy, words left unsaid.

“Don’t go talkin over me-“

“-Like you haven’t been doin the same?-”

“-Because your bitchin-“

“I’m tellin you the truth because no one else will!” You say it like it’s the obvious, you tilt your head, “You waltz around here like you know everything, like you're better than everyone cause you left but you’re still hurting. From your shitty parents, to Carmen, your job that has you exhausted all the fucking time that one other girl and now- what is her name?” you snap a couple times over your head, finding the answer within yourself.

It clicks, “Tracy. Tracy, who’s really given you hell for being away all the time. ‘M sure she thinks you’re cheatin on her. It’s hard. Ain’t it? Got someone like that playin in your fucking face like that, doubting you… I’m just sayin.”

“You’re talkin too fuckin much.” He grumbles, swinging the rest of his drink back.

“Don’t I always?” One side of your lips curve up, taunting. “That hasn’t changed about me. But you, Mr. Run-away, you don’t think I have the same ears you do around here? Lookin for your parents— that little part ‘f you won’t let ‘em go and I don’t know why you keep comin to look for ‘em when it’s no fuckin point.”

It’s too much, always too damn much, he curses you “Watch your fuckin mouth [+].”

You shake your head, push, push, push, until it clicks— hook, line—

“It’s driving you crazy bein in this little shit of a town again, but it’s nothing holding you here anymore. Go live your fucking life Keegan. For once, you’re so worried about other people, focus on your fucking self. Go fix your relationship, be with that woman who you know won’t give you what you really want.”

There it is. The unwanted truth.

Sinker.

Keegan’s whole life he yearned for family, stability, him being the only one in his family to hold it together. That’s why he was so adamant about knowing people, making connections, even if he wasn’t the most social of the bunch. He could get people to remember him so easily.

But people left— his family left without him, heart broken over Carmen just up and leaving him, and then he left you— everything fell apart. Couldn't love the same, care for people the same.

His grip on the empty glass loosens, you wanna dance? He’ll dance. “I’m not the only one runnin after demons—“

You scuff, “-Oh please-“

“—Like I haven’t heard about your mom making you pay her bills, that house that you don’t live in miraculously having your name on it. How she’s asking around for money even when she comes to your place making a fucking ruckus— you’re covering for her.” He informs you, sneering.

If you can lay it allll out, so can he— can’t he?

“You play coy in everyone’s face but I know better, I know you would beg for help if your pride would let you. I know that you’re just as scared to leave as I am, that you stay here cause that’s all you know. Probably sock her in her face if so many people weren’t watching you. It’s tiring you out, you probably need a vacation. Running after people who don’t give a shit is a common trait between you ‘nd me kid, wears us thin. But we’re one and the same, do the same bullshit. That’s never changed.”

If you had a drink, you’d throw it. Right at his skull.

“Pay the tab, shit head.” You snarl, pushing the drink away and grabbing your purse. Walking right through the half empty bar and out the doors.

The cold air hit your face, doing a quick scan of the parking lot for your car. Maybe there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have said, let Keegan figure it out himself. But you were never good at shutting up, just like your fucking mother.

And you couldn’t stand things not going your way. Even worse when people smacked you in the face with the truth. It hurt.

You rolled your eyes, stomping your foot to the pavement in annoyance.

You felt a hand go to your waist and you almost yelped, until you heard a familiar husky whisper in your ear, “Shut up and move.”

You liked the chase, loved getting caught— loved being used.

Well, only by Keegan.

You’d take all his anger, everything he was willing to give you, and make him feel even better. Take him on a much needed vacation. And he’d take you there too.

Even if it was 45 minutes that made the whole car rock back and forth.

You manicured hand, claw at his seats, his tip pressing right into your g-spot. Keegan was thick, so undeniably wide, how much he stretched your sticky walls, you weren’t even sure he’d be able to fit inside after so long.

But he made it fit, eased himself in by rubbing your little clit, smirking, “Such a slut for me Princess, can’t even use that fuckin brain can you?”

You hiccuped, hand pressing at his thigh to try to relieve yourself, but he just gave it to you deeper, kept your hand behind your back.

His fingers glide against the back tattoo, large angel wings, so beautiful, newly retouched—

“When you get these re-done, heh- they’re so pretty.” He hisses as your pussy tightens around him.

“Doooont,” you slur, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, “hmm, ah- don’t ask a-about that right now.”

“I’ll ask what I want,” he rasps, whispering curses as he frantically fucks you, “when I want. Who told you, you were in charge here? Huh?”

And then, there's a harsh thwack that fills the car, from two of Keegan’s large fingers down to your precious cunt, one that makes your sob in pleasure, tears forming on your face.

“A-Again Kee!” you croon, almost at the finish line, you can feel it down in your gut.

The older man snickers, “You should use your manners doll, been so rude to me all night. What happened to that nice girl I used to know.”

A pout forms on your lips, looking back at him with those pretty brown eyes, he almost gives into you right then and there. You whimper, “Please- hnngh- please spank it again Keegan.”

God, he loved you. Loved the shit out of you, and your messy fucking pussy. Could never say no to you even after all this fucking time.

He let your arm go, gripping your hips with one so hand, definitely leaving a bruise and giving your Pearl a niiiice and mean slap making you jolt forward as he jackhammers inside your pink walls.

You wither around him, your tight walls quickly pulsing around Keegan’s girth. “Fuuuck, Keegan oh my god!” You sob. When’s the last time you came so hard? Your entire body shaking, can barely think straight, you have to wipe the drool that’s fell from your mouth.

Keegan pulls you up, still on his dick, letting you rest just for a second with your head on his shoulder. “Feels good not to think so much, don’t it princess? Racking that poor brain of yours been so hard on you, huh?” He coos, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

The car’s hot now, steam filling the windows, you don’t even remember where you are. You pant but nod none the less, unable to talk.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fuck you just how you need.” He grunts, slowly bucking his hips up into you.

You find his hands, wrapping them around you as you meet him halfway, swiveling your hips and slamming yourself down on him.

“There you go gorgeous, so fuckin pretty,” he hums in delight, his mouth kissing from shoulder to your neck, to your cheeks to your ear, making you moan.

You move against each other in tandem, slow, but hard, rock steady. Your head falls down as the pleasure gets to you, “Fuck, fuck, fuck annh- feels so good, soo big, fuckin bastard.” maybe you muttered it to Keegan, maybe to God— someone.

“Yeah, you still mad at me? Sure doesn’t look like it, doesn’t feel like it either.” He chuckles, plunging deeper into you, holding you tighter, one hand kneading one of your perfect tits.

“Damn it, shut up!” Pulling him into a sloppy kiss by his black wavy locks. Moans from the both of you hitting the walls of his car, as smacks from both your bodies and lips fill your ears.

It’s so much, too much—

You pull away, trying to get away from his hold, but Keegan grips onto you, slamming you down on his length, the sloshing sound of your sobbing cunt loud enough, you're sure someone outside the car can hear you.

“One more yeah, baby girl? You can give me one more can’t you?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-“ you keen, more tears falling down your face.

“You can doll, come on baby, it’s okay” and his hand comes down to your clit, rubbing it in fast small circles. You squeal, “Kee!”

But he calms you down, kissing your cheek as he lets the feeling in your build up to the hilt— “That’s it Doll, you got it, let it go.”

You cry as you hit euphoria, letting him thrust into your pussy a few more times till he fills you with his own release, to the brim.

A perfect way to end the night.

Least you got what you wanted.

a/n: I know this actually a lot of plot than smut and it Vice versa, I lied. We all need to lie for plot sometimes. Yes there are plot holes, more to come (if anyone reads this.) yes I threw one daddy in there, you won’t die over it. Lmk what you guys think😚😚

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[frm9pm]

They’re aurors but every month(or week?) they have to submit a list of possible new spells/hexes to the ministry. This is meant to keep aurors sharp and adaptable with as many tools in their arsenal. And if you ask why there’s not a dedicated department for spell discovery, it’s because someone said that only an auror on the field would know what’s needed on the job.