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synopsis: you find a mole, and are all-too-happy to show off your skills to keegan and kick.
word count: 1.9k
ships: Keegan Russ/Reader, Ghosts team & Reader
notes: sorry for long gap between chapters (>A<) also warning for canon-typical violence this chapter
WHY DOES EVIL WEAR A FACE SO FAMILIAR? MASTERLIST
You and Logan stand, side-by-side, behind Rorke as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back as he looks at the ground.
Before him is Fuerza de Asalto Resol – Strike Force Resol. (Resol doesn’t have a direct translation into English, but it more or less describes the glare of the sun off a reflective surface. And that’s what you and Logan and the rest of this strike force are – reflections of Ghosts. Twisted and sick reflections that hate what they’re reflecting, but reflections nonetheless.)
And it’s all of Fuerza de Asalto Resol. All the way from the top lieutenant to the most inconsequential info jockey.
“I have been made aware of a threat,” Rorke starts, still pacing. “Someone in here has been forking over information to America.”
Your eyes rake over the people that are supposed to be on your side. Everyone has a tell – whether it’s that they’re nervous, lying, or anything else. Body language tells you what the lips don’t.
You reach out and brush your finger against Logan’s glove. His hand twitches, then he moves the back of his hand against yours with more purpose to let you know he’s listening. You grab his hand and extend his forefinger, using it to point at a no-name corporal whose eyes are flitting across Rorke’s face. He doesn’t portray any nervousness otherwise, but you can tell. You’ve been trained to tell.
Logan takes his hand away from yours and knocks his knuckles against yours lightly in acknowledgement. He’s seeing things from your eyes, and he understands it completely.
You continue to stand side-by-side with Logan for the remainder of Rorke’s spiel, more like intimidating guard dogs than terriers you are – the ones that hunt down mole burrows. Though you both could still be mastiffs. It was just a matter of context and urgency.
When Rorke eventually finishes, Fuerza de Asalto Resol starts to file out of the room. You wait by the doorframe and catch the corporal’s wrist just as he’s about to leave.
“We need to talk,” you say.
He swallows, his eyes flitting between you and Logan. Another tell of nervousness. He nods.
What a weak excuse for a dog.
Keegan rocks in his wheely chair, picking at his nails and flicking out the muck from underneath them. The room is quiet aside from the whiny squeak of the chair and the taps of Kick’s fingers against his keyboard.
There’s nothing to do. Keegan had pushed for an expedition out to The Divide when the Ghosts had gotten wind of you and Logan going out there, but was shut down many times over. Alas – he’s just a sergeant. And as much as he had insisted, he was still just a sergeant.
So Keegan’s stuck here with Kick, in some out-of-the-way briefing room, playing with his hands –
There’s a sudden sound, and Kick jolts and hits the underside of his desk with his knee. Keegan’s head snaps up.
The screen of Kick’s laptop flickers, and an image slowly fades in. It’s… a live feed of some sort.
Firstly, you look… different from when Keegan saw you last. Obviously he had seen you after you had become a victim of proselytization, but never this close, not with this amount of detail. You’re dicking around with the camera, trying to get it to focus or something like that. Keegan can’t rightly bring himself to care at this moment.
All he really cares about is how you’ve changed. How a scar carves into your hairline, leaving a thick line of raised skin in its wake. How your lower lip is permanently split at one of the corners, dragging one side of your mouth into a fake frown. How one of your eyelids droops lower than the other because of some physical trauma Keegan probably can’t even bring himself to imagine being inflicted upon you.
(And how Keegan wishes, more than anything, that he was there to kiss the scars away. No, he couldn’t kiss away the mental trauma or the physical reminders that it occurred, but he… Can you forgive him for just wanting – needing – an excuse to kiss a lover? His lover? (Ex-lover.))
Keegan’s line of thought is broken when you suddenly smile, wide and crooked. It’s not the soft, loving smile he’s used to: it’s something crazed and twisted.
You prop up the camera on something that provides a wide-shot view of the room you’re in – a table or chair, maybe. You adjust the camera, still with that smile, and step back.
A man, in an undershirt and compression shorts, is tied to a chair, his arms bound behind him and his legs tied to the legs of the chair. His eyes are wide with fear and his breath is labored.
“We found your friend, Kick,” you say. You take the back of the chair and shake it, jerking the man around. “Rats tend to turn up when you lay out glue traps.”
“What the fuck?” Kick snaps.
But it doesn’t really seem like you can hear Kick, nor do you really care to. You circle behind the man and prop your chin on his shoulder.
“That’s the thing with us Americans, isn’t it?” Your eyes flick to the camera lens, then away. “We take. We take and take and you’ve seduced a man of the Federation with your appetite.”
You inhale deeply, slowly, and dig your fingernails into the bound man’s arms, causing him to grunt and grit his teeth. You continue, your eyes flitting about the room. “There’s this story from the Bible. Something… something about Christ finding one of his temples polluted by money-changers and beasts. But… did he ask them to leave? Did he cry? Did he just walk away?”
Your eyes find the camera again. “No. He drove them out. He…” You exhale heavily and tighten your grip on the man’s arms. “He found them. And he made his temple peaceful again.”
Keegan can only watch as the man groans and small trickles of blood start to run down his arms. The screen makes it seem so far away, but he can swear he can smell the sweat that beads your brow, almost taste the blood you’re spilling.
“Are you watching?” You spit. “I want you to watch as we cut your communications. We found your rat in San Jose de las Lajas… just south of Havana. He was so close to home. So close to America. I wonder how many others are out there? Or just in Cuba alone.”
Your hand flies to the man’s throat, your bloody fingernails digging into his skin. You grit out, “I said, “I wonder how many others are out there?””
“No sé!” The man says. “I don’t know!”
“I find that hard to believe,” you hiss into his ear. “A spy ring doesn’t just consist of one spy. At least do your country one last service and tell us where they are – who they are.”
“But I don’t know!” The man insists. His face twists as he tries to strain and get his neck out of your talon-like grip. “I really don’t.”
You sigh, exaggerated and condescending. “Tell me, corporal. Do you enjoy killing?”
The man shakes his head the best he can with your hand almost crushing his throat.
“Do you think I enjoy killing?”
Again, the same.
“You’re right,” you say. “But, when done with a purpose, killing is a chore, just like any other. Don’t you agree?”
“S-sí,” the man stutters out. “A chore, yes.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I just…” The hand that was still on his arm drops to his belly. You drag your fingernails over his shirt, surely digging into the skin underneath. Your nails leave a smear of blood in their wake. “Because it’s just a chore. Right?”
“But I’m not!” The man insists. “I’m not a spy! I swear, on my mother, on my daughter.”
“Those are some fairly innocent women to swear your loyalty on,” you say. Your eyes find the camera.
Don’t do it, Keegan thinks to himself, as if trying to project his thoughts to you. (You used to be able to read him so well.) Don’t fucking do it.
You bring out a small mobile phone and walk off screen. The man’s eyes follow you, his breathing still sort-of quick and panicked.
Keegan and Kick exchange a glance. Neither can bring themselves to speak – to tell the other what they think you’re going to do.
You come back a few minutes later, the phone cradled to your ear. (Keegan exhales heavily when he sees that you don’t have the actual child.) You mumble Spanish into the receiver, then hold the phone to the man’s ear. “Josefina wants to talk to her papí.”
The man stiffens and leans into the phone’s speaker. “No… no. Por favor, Josefina… por favor, cálmate. Estoy bien. Papí está bien. No escuches a la persona mala. Josefina, por favor…”
Keegan can just barely hear a voice on the other end of the line. It’s high-pitched and quick and very obviously panicked. He can pick up snippets – “Papí,” “por favor,” and sniffling sobs.
“Fucking child.” You swipe the phone away from the man’s ear and shout Spanish down the line before hanging up and throwing it onto whatever’s propping the camera up.
When you turn back to the man, it’s with a backhand across his face. He reels, his face screwed up in pain and his teeth gritted. He doesn’t give much of a reaction besides that.
And it’s like that sets off a switch within you. You grunt and bring your hand across his face again, forehand this time. People fall when pushed by your hand – so why isn’t he falling?
At least, that’s what Keegan thinks you’re thinking as you beat the shit out of this man. Your hand is made into a fist and your fist is made into a weapon. And that weapon was quickly turning bloody and bruised. The only sound is you and the man grunting and the sound your fist makes on impact.
After a few minutes, you pull away, cradling your hand, huffing and panting. The man is infinitely worse. His nose is broken in several places, there’s a gash beneath his eye, and his bottom lip is swollen and bleeding.
You circle behind the man and prop your chin on his shoulder again. That twisted smile returns to your face. “Your rat is resilient, Kick. I’ll give him that.”
Your hands go down to his arms and rub over the crescent-shaped scabs forming there. The man winces.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” you say, your voice a hissing whisper. “I will find your trained dogs. And I will kill them.”
You round the man and pick up the camera, quickly cutting the connection. Kick’s screen goes static, then his laptop crashes and restarts.
He turns to Keegan. “What the fuck was that?”
Keegan’s still staring at the screen. You were so close. It’s like he could’ve reached out and touched you if he tried hard enough.
But that’s not you. That’s just someone who looks like you – someone wearing your skin and speaking with your voice. He has to tell himself over and over that you’re not you. You’re not you. You’re not you. You’re not –
Kick grabs Keegan’s arm. His head snaps to look at Kick. “You okay?”
Keegan inhales sharply and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… shaken up, is all.”
But he’s not fine. That much is fucking obvious. You’re not you.
!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, double penetration, Sex Pollen, drugs, death, violence, poorly translated German, (sorry if I missed any.)
It’s been a long day.
You’ve been walking for miles behind the trio of masked men. You aren’t even sure why you were sent on this mission, considering the three men in front of you were the strongest. Physically and Mentally. They’re all skilled, more skilled than you’ll ever be. But you obey orders and even though you’re pointless to be here, you’re still enjoying yourself. König thought you’d be useful, you can’t argue there.
You’re lagging behind a bit, listening to everything going on. You’ve got a clear idea of how this mission is supposed to go. Capture the target, see what he knows, leave no survivors.
After a couple bomb threats from this person with the target of the base you all stayed on, you had no choice but to do this. You were getting too close to his operation and he was getting desperate. Which means whatever he has going on, is not good. You’d been walking a few miles, it’s where you were dropped off. You were closing in on the building he was in. It was all dense jungle around it. Nowhere to run.
As you approached the building, you noticed quite a few men outside. They were loading up a truck with crates of something. None of you had any kind of idea what it could be. “Keegan and Ghost, you two go ahead. You’re the quietest.” You nod. They give you nods of their own before splitting off into their own directions. “I’m going to go around, see if I can’t get a clear shot of some on the other side.” You mumble to König. He tilts his head. “Be safe, schatz.” You smile, “always.”
You make your way around, not having any idea of what awaits you ahead.
König watches through his scope, not sure why he’s out here when he did better with close combat, but nevertheless he kept quiet and stayed hidden. He watched Ghost and Keegan zero in.
“Y/N, how’s it looking?” He says into his radio.
He receives nothing but silence.
“Y/N? Do you copy?”
After another few minutes of silence, he begins to panic.
“Y/N isn’t responding, she circled around to get a better view, verrücktes Mädchen.” He mumbles the rest as he releases the button on his radio. “Shit. We have to get inside.” Ghost calls back.
“Keegan, do you copy?”
Ghost calls.
Goosebumps rise on his skin when he gets nothing in return. He’s breathing hard, resting up against a door. “Keegan?” He asks again. He sighs. “König. Keegan isn’t answering either.”
He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He’s surprised when König doesn’t call back.
“König?”
Silence.
“God damnit.“ he breathes, taken by surprise when a dart is being shot into his neck. “What the f-“
That’s the last he remembers.
Slowly, one by one, they’re waking up. They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs. They’ve killed most of the threats, but there’s still one. “Rise and shine.” He smiles. Their vision is blurry but they can hear you whimpering. When they fully register what’s going on, they start to panic. You’re strapped to a chair, fully naked. You’ve got a cloth tied around your mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” Keegan yells. “Ah, so you can talk.” The man smiles. He’s breathing hard, fighting against his restraints. He runs a knife over your chest and you close your eyes tightly, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths darling. Yeah, that’s it.” He chuckles.
König’s eyes darken. He wants to rip this man’s head off for touching you.
“Your precious girl here is infected now. Well… all of you are.” He chuckles. “This little dart here. Holds 1 Milliliter of the sweetest drug you can get your hands on.” He holds up the little dart. “I prescribe about 1/4 of that for my very special clients. You’re all infected with enough of this to kill a horse.” He laughs. “What the hell is it?” Ghost seethes. “Oh? You don’t know?” He smirks. “It’s a sex drug. A bit like the over the counter ones you can buy, but on steroids. When you take a little bit, you get aroused, you produce pheromones that attract people, makes sex intense. But when you take in more than the recommended amount..” he clicks his tongue.
“Heart rate picks up. Blood pressure rises. Keeps rising and rising until it bottoms out. You’ll either die of a heart attack or your heart will just give out.” He laughs. “So.. your girl here. She was infected first. Which means she’s going to die first, and you’re all going to watch her squirm. She’s going to beg for relief, beg for anything you’ll give her. But you’re stuck.” He laughs. “The only way she’ll feel better is if she gets fucked enough.” He laughs. He sits down in a chair, writing something down. “Ich werde dich töten.” König seethes. Looking up at him through his mask. “What was that big guy? Hm?” He laughs. He stands up once more. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. How about we get rid of the ridiculous costumes, show your real faces!” He claps his hands together. He starts with König, pulling off his hood. He glares up at him. Next was Ghost, he tugs his balaclava off. Ghost sends him a death stare. Next was Keegan, who had a smile on his face. “What are you smiling at?” He crouches down. “Just think your head is going to look perfect on a stick.” He spits in his face. He growls. “Whatever. Pay close attention to your little girlfriend, she’s going to start begging soon enough.” He mumbles. “She’s actually really sexy, might give her a go before her heart explodes.” He grips his dick through his jeans and that’s when König tugs at the ropes, feeling them start to give away. You whimper out, shifting in your chair. “Yeah, there we go.” He chuckles, sitting back down. He goes back to writing something down, and you squirming on the chair doesn’t help the situation at all. You’re rubbing your thighs together, raising your hips. You’re rutting them down into the chair for any sort of relief. As the time goes on, the worse it gets. Pretty soon, all three men are trying to ignore the tightening in their pants, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard to get out of their restraints.
“Awe. Look at you.” The man smiles. “Soaking the chair.” He chuckles. He runs his fingertips up your thigh and you flinch. “Stop.” Ghost growls. “Nah, I think it’s time I take her for a test drive.” He smiles. König rips through the ropes, the man freezes when he hears the click of a gun.
“Turn around.” He growls. “Woah… take it easy big guy. I was only joking.”
“Ich habe einen Witz für dich.” He smiles. “What?” He asks. Just then, König pulls the trigger. He hits the man right between the eyes. He falls backward, blood pouring from his head. König cuts the ropes off of Ghost and motions for him to free Keegan. König rushes to get to you. “You okay?” He asks. “No-“ you shiver. He kneels down, freeing you from the chair. “I know, it’s hard. But you have to fight it.” Ghost mumbles. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” He asks. You shake your head. “No.” You grit your teeth. “Where are your clothes?”
“I don’t know, it’s too hot anyways.” You pant. Your skin is hot to the touch. Keegan stands behind you, brushing your hair away from you to look at you. You’re completely clear aside from a tiny puncture mark from the dart. “The… the only way-“ you grit your teeth, closing your eyes. “The only way is to have sex, I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.” You whine. “I feel it too.” Keegan mutters. Ghost looks down. Agreeing silently. König nods his head. “So what do we do?” Keegan asks.
“We do what we have to.” Ghost mumbles. You nod your head.
The more aroused the three men get, the better they seem to smell. They’re attracting you so much. You bend over, crying out. “You okay?” Keegan kneels by you. “Can’t take it anymore.” You look up at him. Tears streaming from your eyes. “Cmon.” He mumbles, sliding his arm under the bend of your knees and your back. He lifts you up. “We’ve got to find a room or something. If we’re going to do this we have to start now.” Keegan mumbles. They nod. They quickly move through the building, Ghost first, König next, and than Keegan with you. They move in a line, just in case there’s more men they don’t know about. You whine into Keegan’s shoulder. Propping yourself up onto him. “Y/N- what are you doing?” He mumbles. “Need it- need it so bad Keegan.” You mewl. You grip onto him, wiggling out of his grasp so that you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist. You attack his neck with your teeth, grinding your hips into him.
“Shit- Y/N. We’re almost there. You have to stop-“ he grits his teeth, Ghost and König glance back at you, seeing you attacking Keegan. Your desperation has them aching.
“In here.” Ghost holds open the door, locking it behind you and propping a chair up on it just in case. It’s a bedroom, at last. “Ah- you’ve got to let go sweetheart.” Keegan groans. “No, please. I need it. Need it so bad.” You whine. Grinding your hips into him more. “I know, we’re going to help you. Just… for one second baby.” He breathes. You let go of him and he lowers you onto the bed. “Fuck..” he growls. Noticing the way you’ve soaked the front of him. The three men are standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you. Like you’re the finest meal they’ve ever laid their eyes on. Keegan is first to break, reaching for his belt. Your pupils are blown out as you watch his hands move to unbuckle it. The other two follow his movements. You bite your lip, body shivering at the thought of what’s about to happen. You can’t help yourself, reaching between your legs to stimulate the sensitive nub that awaits any kind of relief it can get. A mewl leaves your lips and you tilt your head back. “She’s going to have to get used to me, I’ll go last.” König nods. They all silently agree. He’s right, he’s the biggest of the three. After admiring the way you touch yourself, they can’t anymore.
Keegan reaches out, grasping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “Poor girl. Just soaking..” he breathes. He rubs the tip of his cock over your aching hole, a whine leaving your lips as you raise your hips into him. He moves his hips forward, the tip of his cock pushing through your wet folds. You want to cry when he fills you up. The relief you feel is incredible. You can feel more tears welling up in your eyes as he starts to thrust himself inside of you.
The squelch from your wet pussy is the only thing they can hear besides your whines. You squirm around, the way he feels is almost too much. “Ah- you’re gripping me so tight.” He breathes. “Hold on.” Ghost mumbles. He lifts you up off of the bed, apologizing at the loss you feel from Keegan exiting you. You straddle him. “You wet enough from her?” He asks. Keegan nods his head. “Y-yeah. Fuck.” He groans. He’s never done anything like this before, nothing like he’s about to do. Ghost lines his cock up with your pussy, and you sink down onto him with a gasp. Clutching his shoulders. “There you go, now relax for Keegan alright?” You nod your head. You feel Keegan’s tip aligning with your ass. You’d be worried. If it weren’t for the drug, you’d be modest and shy away from what they’re doing. But as he fills your ass to the hilt with ease, the fullness you feel. You can’t even think straight anymore.
The pleasure you feel from them has you on cloud 9. Vision blurring, you can barely make a sound. Your lips are parted, eyes are blown wide as they start to move into you. A chuckle leaves Ghosts lips at your reaction to them.
“She’s feeling good.” He laughs. “Think so.” Keegan chuckles. You rest your head on Ghosts shoulder, turning to look at König. He’s pumping his cock quickly, he’s desperate too. You reach your hand out for him. He moves closer and you take him into your hand, pumping his cock. He gasps out, head tilting back. You can see them, all of them. More than just the color of their eyes. You can see their sharp jawlines, the small scars decorating their faces. You can see the curves of their lips, their stubble that needs to be shaved. You can see and feel all of them, and it’s too much. Your first orgasm is coming fast. Your thighs are shaking, your cheeks are flushed from the warmth moving through you. “I.. I’m so close.” You whimper. Your hand tightens around König and he hisses slightly. “Fuck.” He groans. You clutch Ghost hard with your other hand. “I-“ you freeze up. Body going rigid as you reach your first orgasm. You cry out, soaking Ghost’s thighs with your arousal. “Oh fuck.” He breathes, looking down. “Look at the mess you’ve made of me.” He chuckles. “Ah fuck- I’m gonna cum too!” Keegan pants. He grips your hips hard. Thrusting into you harder. He’s chasing after his high, using you to reach it.
He’s panting hard, moans getting more unsteady by the second. “Oh fuck!” He growls, teeth gritted as he cums. His thrusts are sharp and bruising as he rides out his high, stuttering to a stop against you. You feel full of him, turning to look at him. He grips your throat, kissing you hard as he slides himself from your ass. “Fuck-“ he breathes. He steps away from you for a second.
“I think she’s ready for you, König.” Ghost nods. Keegan takes a deep breath, relaxing back into a chair. “Does it feel like it’s worn off?” Ghost asks him. He nods his head. “Yeah. I think it’s only got her so worked up because she’s smaller than us.” He nods. “Probably, never thought about it like that.” You’re rocking your hips into him, desperate for more. “I’ll go make sure the rest is all clear.” Keegan finishes getting dressed. König replaces the chair on the door behind him before making his way back to you. Ghost slides you off of him and you mewl at the emptiness you feel. He chuckles at this, “Relax, just for a second darling.”
“Go to König.” He breathes. You nod your head, König lifts you up into him, swapping places with Ghost. He sits down, lining his cock up with your entrance. “I’m really big sweetheart, so don’t get too eager.” He breathes. “Schau mich an.” He raises your chin and you look him in the eyes. “Keep looking at me.” He presses his forehead to yours. You slowly sink down onto him, thighs shaking slightly. He’s big. You moan out, and he takes the opportunity to kiss you. Once he’s bottoming out in you, you can barely hold yourself up. Ghost has his cock nestled into your ass, like Keegan had. He was already so close. When they start thrusting, you can’t keep quiet. It’s so much, and König adds to it. Circling your clit gently. Sucking your nipples into his mouth. You being stimulated is what helps the l drug wear off. He’d do what he had to.
Ghost has a tight grip on your hips, his thrusts are getting sloppy. He hisses, feeling you tighten slightly around him. He’s right on the edge. He tilts your head back, tugging slightly on your hair. König has one of your nipples between his lips, sucking gently as he rubs your clit. Ghost kisses you hard, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. It’s by far the best he’s ever had. His body jerks hard as he finishes inside of your ass, pulling away from you completely. You moan at the loss of him, turning to look at him. “I’m going to go help Keegan.” He mumbles. He’s readjusting his cargo pants, buckling his belt. “Be safe.” You whimper. He nods. When he leaves this time, neither you or König are worried about the chair in front of the door. He lifts you up, turning around so that he can lay you on the bed. Smiling when you refuse to let go of him. “Relax, Ich gehe nirgendwohin.” He pushes your hips down into the bed, and looks at you. He’s not sure you’re ready for the force he’s about to use on you, but as desperate as you seem to be, he doesn’t think you’ll mind.
He starts at a fast pace, fucking into you hard. It only takes a few seconds and you’re nearly crying from how rough he is with you. His cock is big and you’ve never taken anything like the three of them ever before. You’ve got a death grip on the blankets beneath you, and you can’t stay quiet. He releases one hand, using it to rub circles into your sensitive nub once more, and that’s when you lose it. You’re sobbing when you finally cum again, raising your hips into him and flinching away from him when he continues his fast pace. “Doing so good for me. So ein gutes Mädchen.” He pants. He leans down to kiss you once more, his high is approaching too. The stimulation he feels is intense, you’re wrapped so tight around him, he just can’t take it anymore.
“Oh yes… yes so close.” He grips your hips hard as he slips over the edge, hips hammering into yours as he cums. You’re sure there will be bruises all over you. “Verdammt, so gut.” He cries. His thrusts halt, and he realizes he’s just filled you up with his cum. He sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He breathes. You look up at him. Eyes feeling heavy as the arousal finally begins to wear off. You send him a lazy smile. “Don’t be.” You breathe. He slides out of you, groaning as he does so. He takes a second, panting. He’s trying to catch his breath.
He helps you get cleaned up, making sure to clean your skin if the mix of arousal between the four of you.
He wraps you up in a clean blanket. Lifting you up and carrying you back into the room this had all begun. He’s looking around for your clothes but can’t seem to find them. “It’s all clear.” Keegan nods. König nods his head. He places you down in a chair for a moment, picking up his hood and returning it to cover his face. Ghost and Keegan doing the same. “I can’t find her clothes.” König sighs. “I’ve got them.” Keegan nods. He passes them to König and he thanks him. He unwraps the blanket you’re in, helping you get dressed. You’re exhausted and weak, eyes getting heavy as he helps you. “I’ve got a sample of the drug and some paperwork. That’s all we needed right?” Ghost asks. König nods his head. “Yes. All in all this was a successful mission.” He nods. “Jedoch, this stays between us.” He laughs. Ghost and Keegan can’t help but laugh, even you have a tired smile on your lips. “Yes sir.” Keegan laughs.
König ties your boots, and returns the blanket around you, lifting you up with ease. That was one good thing about the massive man, he was strong. “Let’s get to exfil. We all need to be checked out.” Ghost says. Everyone nods in agreement. You’ve finally fallen asleep and König can’t help but smile.
Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)
For The Weak And Weary
PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?
A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.
And this was entirely new to you.
He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.
But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.
You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.
But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.
If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.
“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”
It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.
He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?
“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”
Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.
Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”
“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”
The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”
“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”
“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”
A stiff silence falls.
“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.
“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.
You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.
Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.
You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.
He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.
When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.
And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.
So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.
But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.
Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.
Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.
In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.
A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.
Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.
How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?
Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.
All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.
How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.
You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.
If only Keegan could see you now.
Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.
Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.
“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.
You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.
“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.
Everything would be done if another city fell.
Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.
Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.
You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.
Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.
Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.
Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.
“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.
Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.
Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...
When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.
—
It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.
On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.
Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.
Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.
“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.
The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.
Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.
“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”
The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.
“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”
On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.
Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.
And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.
With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.
You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.
I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.
While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.
It rang a devastating bell.
Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.
Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.
The only love of your life.
“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”
Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.
The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…
Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?
Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.
“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.
He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”
“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.
You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.
It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.
“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.
Your face gains heat.
“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.
“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”
“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.
He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.
“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”
Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.
Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.
At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.
So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.
“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.
“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”
The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.
“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.
You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”
Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.
“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.
Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.
You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.
Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.
More than one-thousand miles.
But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.
Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.
Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.
Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.
—
The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.
Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.
But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.
But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.
You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.
In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.
Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.
The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.
“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”
You weren’t going to stop until you found it.
Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.
“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.
Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.
“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.
“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”
You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.
“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”
“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.
Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”
“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.
“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”
“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”
“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”
Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.
“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.
“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.
“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.
Yelling is on the other side.
“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.
“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.
…Keegan?
“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.
“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”
“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.
Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.
Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.
Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.
Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.
The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.
Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.
“...Sweetheart?”
His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.
You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.
The door shuts, but neither of you notices.
“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”
He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.
“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.
Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.
“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”
“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”
His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.
“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”
Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.
The man forces a weak huff.
“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.
You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.
Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.
Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.
He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.
“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”
You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.
“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”
You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.
The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.
“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”
“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”
You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.
Dating Ghostface! Keegan, but you know he’s a serial killer
Ghostface! Keegan who comes to you right after another murder, still covered in black looking blood and high on adrenaline, his shaking hands wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to himself, his lips clashing with yours, silencing all your complains about him getting blood on your cute little tank top in a second. The kiss is sloppy and careless, a mess of tongues and teeth, nibbling and pulling at your bottom lip with low moan. Mix of your salivas is smearing all over your lips and Keegan is all too eager to lick a small dribble of it off your chin and push it right back into your greedy mouth so you can suck it right off his tongue.
Ghostface! Keegan who throws you onto your bed, too horny to fully undress you, just ripping your skimpy booty shorts off and shoving your top up to reveal your pretty tits. Of course you’re wet already, your sweet slick pooling in your panties, soaking through soft cotton of them. Russ pushed them to the side, quickly undoing his own pants and getting his leaking cock out, giving it a few mean tugs before aligning drooling tip to your awaiting hole, sinking inside of your welcoming warmth, cooing encouragingly as you wrap your legs around him.
Ghostface! Keegan who fucks you absolutely dumb on his cock, making you sob and whine in pure pleasure - so unlike the poor girl who felt brave enough to flirt with him earlier and ended up split on his knife. Keegan fucks you soo good your toes curl and your eyes roll, so soft and pliant as you let him ram his throbbing dick in and out of your velvety cunny, your back arching off crumpled sheets as he twists at your nipples meanly, murmuring soft apologies into your ear that he doesn’t actually mean.
Ghostface! Keegan who just can’t stop praising you all through it, saying how much of a good girl you are for taking him so well, how fucking sick in your head you are for loving a serial killer, for letting him make love to you after he mercilessly murdered another innocent person. He cums so much inside of your fluttering pussy it spills out and dribbles down his balls and the cleft of your ass, making a mess on your pink sheets.
Keegan crashes on top of you, absolutely spent and exhausted from such array of emotions, adrenaline and physical work of stabbing, gutting, running and fucking you silly. He rolls over so that he’s now lying on the bed with you splayed on top of him, tracing patterns on your back and inhaling lungfuls of your scent, pressing fleeting kisses to your moist forehead.
Ghostface! Keegan is still covered in blood, caked splashes of it are on his clothes, some on his hands and under his nails, but you don’t seem to mind it much, just mumbling something about him smelling like metal. Russ just chuckles as you call him “stinky”, caressing your hair lovingly as he stares at the ceiling above.
God, what did he do to deserve someone as perfect as you? His favourite psycho girl<3
first off, your blog was like my whole reason. honestly. idek how to put it, your writing is immaculate and if i’m gonna be completely honest i joined tumblr cuz of you lol, i don’t think that there’s like any better top male reader blog than yours icl. ‘preciate your writings a lot 🩶
second, if you can i do have a request; harddom!m!reader is asleep but wakes up to sub!keegan weakly bouncing on and cockwarming the reader, with some overstim + a lottt of orgasm denial, so much that keegan passes out and they both fall back asleep together. oh yeah, and the amount of times he’s denied orgasm we carve tallies into him (knife kink omfffhg). pretty much it !
may i also be ⛓️💥 anon?
2knote. hello?? thank you so much. I’m very honored, you’re wayy too kind for this. and yeah, absolutely. ⌖ RATED XPLICIT 18+
Awakening to a familiar heat, snug and slick, it has blood rush south of your body and thicken your cock with veritable, unadulterated desire—Wait, what?
You jolt, the action met with a breathless whimper and calloused palms land on your chest. The veil of tranquil slumber lifted, rapidly clearing the murk which had formed in your brain. Your eyes snap wide open, a ragged gasp tearing itself from your throat.
“What the—” You inhale, gaze adjusting to the darkness and soon trailing to the area in between Keegan’s thighs. His hips never paused, lacking strength in his grinds that are too weak to be proper bounces, to be anything. “—fuck are you doing?”
The male in question, Keegan, shamefully mewled upon registering the scratchy rumble of your hoarse voice. He clenched, pornography-worthy in how he’s so fucking tight, and he knows it. He takes advantage of the sweet, promising grip of his hole to greedily take all of you in for his own pleasure.
“I’m sorry,” Keegan whines, rolling forward, your tip nudging his prostate. “Ngh, I n-need you, I–”
He’s interrupted by his own moan, husky and wanton. He breathes out, slowly, his hole peppering kisses along the bulging veins of your cock in abrupt, wet squeezes. His thighs tremble from having to keep himself upright, legs aching as he raises his ass to ride you, only for you to bottom out when his knees buckle.
“Stop.”
He stiffens, his puzzled brain glueing the missing scraps of his intellect together as he fumbled to submit. Keegan’s pupils dilated, pinkish hue dusting his cheeks pretty, and he anticipated with bated breath. His mouth fell agape, senses consumed by the primal function to take what you offer him.
The sensitive head of his cock sobbed with lust, the entire length glistening with arousal. “You’re not cumming ‘till I say you can,” you announce with a hum, shifting to reach for the knife by the nightstand. It was originally intended for precaution, though it wasn’t necessary when you’re entirely protected by the man drunk off your dick.
But with the newfound alternative, it’s used more than it should be. “You got it?”
Keegan had the urge to cry out in frustration. He’s been so good for you, so patient. You should—no, you have to give him what he wants. He doesn’t have an ounce of true brattiness left in him to tell you that, his response a simple nod.
His eyes catch onto the swift movement of you twisting the handle in your grip, the known material like daily clothing now. “Answer.”
He gasps in surprise, goosebumps lapping feverishly at his skin. The warning is immediate, a press of the side of the blade against his bare thigh, the steel freezing and sinister. “Y-yes.”
Yes, but, a train of thoughts driven by desperation begins to rule his mind, I’m so fucking close. I need you to fuck me, not this. Damn it. Outwardly, his eyebrows are drawn together in an angered line.
You hum a light tune, Keegan’s expressions—ones of filthy nature—are comprehensible notes you can play even if you aren’t a musician. Unceremoniously, the knife is angled to the inner side of his thigh and you plunge it in without further consideration. It eagerly breaks skin, his leg jerks and he yelps in surprise, causing the weapon to draw a blood-dotted slash.
“Ahhng- fuck! Wh..what?” Keegan cries out, the pain a suffocating bandage that seizes his form within a death-guaranteed clutch. It hurts, overriding the separator of agony and rapture. You thrust into him, effectively quieting him down to a gasp. “Shut up and fuck yourself on me, yeah?”
His bottom lip quivers, his hands cautiously roam your build until they curl around the framing of your shoulders. God, the emotions stirring in his marathon-beating heart makes it all too easy for him to obey, to have him move his hips like a mutt.
Keegan leans forward, and you tilt your head off the side to offer him access. He takes it, nuzzling his cheek against your neck. The puff of breath he releases is shaky, wobbly as though he was willing himself not to cry.
Mustering up the vitality, he rises until his entrance is swallowing the very tip of your dick. Something heated crimps in the depths of his guts, twisting in compressed knots that threaten to unwind.
It intensifies as he flings himself down, dragging out a raspy moan of “Hmmng-!” with letters of your name added in-between pathetic grunts. He greedily takes in your length, his sudden clenching earns him a long groan. “C’mon... do it. Ride my cock, Kee.”
That was a threat. He whimpers, his head swinging side to side, “I’m, I’m gonna cum. Please, fuck.”
Whick!
Beside the new wound, you swing the knife along the pure skin. The cut is deeper, and he nearly screams.
Thick, red fluid oozes out, gruesome beads sticking to the steel. Pre-cum drips from Keegan’s slit, his hips grinding forward to maintain the contact, the friction burning away the discomfort. “What did I tell you?” You wrench a hand into his hair, yanking him back. Your teeth descend into a particularly sensitive area on his throat, sucking in an angry marking.
His hole reacts to your borderline aggressiveness in rhythmical spasms, ones that tell you he’ll tip over the edge. It wasn’t his fault he was close to bursting any second. You’re too mean, never allotting him the time that’ll grant him recovery.
And he has too many blood that he’ll let you waste.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
“Hagh... nnmm...”
There’s a feeble ringing in Keegan’s head, the deprivation of flowing life pumping inside of him drowning out anything ever-rational. Your own legs were tainted with a rather disgusting combination.
Harsh lines were indented into the strong layer of his inner thigh, sticky fluid pooling beneath him. A barrier of haze was trapped in his brain, resulting in him losing track of the amount of cuts you’ve inflicted on him.
Has it been four? Six? Perhaps nine?
A mortified wave sweeps across his features. He feels like a cheap, good-for-two-dollars whore.
Yet it feels so fucking good. The risk, the hefty lust blanketing the both of you—all of it. Your release steadily leaked out, a creamy sheen surrounding the base of your length.
A weak moan is what he’s only able to free when the blade sinks into him again, inches dividing the weapon from his core. He’s aching to the point he’s past pleasure, tears streaming down his cheeks as he falls limp against you.
Keegan has been wrapped around your thick cock for longer than he ever has, and he hasn’t cum once - until your rough hand coils to squeeze his shaft, wrist working up and down into slow, calculated strokes that rush him to completion. “Fu-uck, thank you, nfghh shit, t-thank you.” He groans, long and almost a desperate growl. Arousal zaps up his muscled, scarred back lightning-quick.
Hot, blinding white clasps its iron-grip on his wet dick, pearly strands finally, finally shooting out and his rim clenches down tight around you. But you don’t relent. Not yet.
You tug and tug and tug him through his high, forcing him to choke on a split whimper. “Too...” he exhales, torn between rocking into your palm or shoving himself away, “t-too, hfmm, much.”
It aches. His body tightens, tension hinged at his joints and locks until he’s aching. This time, he doesn’t anticipate it when it arrives. He quakes violently against your form, eyes rolling back into his skull, soft sobs echoing throughout the space separating the two of you. “Take it. You can handle this much, can’t you?”
He whines, the sound weak in volume. Your palm is continuously coated with slickness, smearing the wetness each time your stroke reaches the narrow entrance, pressing on it firm enough to reward yourself with his almost-pained grunt. Keegan squirms, attempting to worm his way free from your intoxicating grasp.
God, fuck, his dick is so sore from your torture. Darkness dots the corners of his eyes, his vision beginning to swim. The sensation of your hand clenching around his length fades, disappearing into the void of his blank-state mind. He faintly senses himself twitching, cum splattering on his thighs and on you. With one last exhausted whimper, dreamless fog consumes him entirely.
You set aside the knife, the item in your hand replaced by a towel. Your thumb circles mindless patterns on his nape, rocking him to sleep. Wiping him off, he stirs slightly.
“Hmmm?” He mutters, consciousness slipping into him again.
“Go back to sleep.” You shush, cleaning yourself up before you toss the dirtied rag away and gently lay him next to you.
Keegan nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. A tired, gentle smile rests on his lips before he whispers; “G’night.”
✦ a.n: the boots i kinda imagined are the moonboots!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
in the sun-kissed landscapes of italy, you, with your captivating charm and surprising intelligence, was dealing with a meeting with very higher ups in the politic world, things were going so far so good.
that was until your boss, a figure whom you trusted very much, revealed to you the news. a deployment to russia as a military translator.
nervous feelings ran down your spine, not from the revelation of a new challenge, but from the anticipation of russia’s frigid embrace. most of the time, you were assigned to help translate in missions involving trafficking, drugs, dark stuff like that. and having to translate for the “bad guys” involved them being not so nice to you. mostly because they don’t like a woman all up on their dark buisness.
nevertheless, you knew you were going to be protected, and the military people have never treated you wrong.
you prepared your clothes, having to use a bigger backpack due to all the puffy jackets, scarfs, you know, all cold related things. which you do not protest! the colder the weather, the better you can dress.
right now you had a puffy black jacket, warm leggings with a thick skirt attached! it was 100x more comfortable because now your ass didn’t have to feel all the cold seats anymore. and of course your puffy boots, thick beige fur covering the boots. one thing about you is your feet were always cold, making you use like 3 layers of socks!
you arrived late night, making the cold even worse but you managed to cover the lower half of your face with your scarf, seriously the cold was so bad in here. as you disembarked from the helicopter, the biting russian cold embraced you, making you shiver involuntarily.
you were greeted warmly by your captain “nice to see you again over here” he smiled warmly “i’m glad too, really missed the artic” he laughed at that, how could he be out here with only a small jacekt?!
he noticed your shivering frame, you thought you were hiding it well, making him start leading you through the snow-covered landscape over to base.
upon entering, all eyes turned towards you – a mix of amazement and curiosity danced in the gaze of your new colleagues, you knew your boots were quite attention catching, probably why everyone kept staring at you.
to say you were pretty was little, it was obvious everyone in the room found you beautiful, but you didn’t pay it any mind, again thinking maybe your boots were standing out a bit too much, not the way your thighs looked so good with the skirt on top, but! they would need to get used to see your babies, they were your go-to in cold weather.
however, one pair of eyes stood out, belonging to keegan. he almost looked mesmerized with you. he watched you stride with an unyielding confidence, almost model like, the skirt making your hips move so so pretty, that it was making it hard for him to stop staring at you.
somehow your eyes found his, thanking the heavens you had your scarf covering your cheeks because you were blushing so hard rn, his gaze lingered, an admiring intensity in his eyes that you almost tripped.
only his eyes, a window to the unspoken thoughts within, were visible, making you curious. as his fellow soldier spoke, keegan’s attention remained freezed on you, his focus unyielding, and the words of his comrade fading into the background of his silent admiration.
the spell was broken as soon as the captain opened the door to his office, inviting you in to debrief the mission with you. you were going with keegan’s team to help them gather intel, they were trying to find a very big drug dealer, and you translating, would help them find him faster.
tomorrow morning would be your first mission with them, yet you still didn’t know who keegan was, making it intriguing whom you’d be working with.
captain showed you your room, it was a basic military room, a twin sized bed in the middle, small vanity to your left, a desk in the other size to the room, and a small window, last but not least, your own bathroom.
you pleaded your boss to give you your own bathroom, there was enough experiences a girl can have in a shared bathroom used by men.
you started investigating about who you were translating for tomorrow, loosing the track of time. by the time you finished it was 3 am, making you worry a little, you were leaving tomorrow at 6 am.
you were almost going to bed when your stomach rumbled, making you internally groan, you knew that if you didn’t sleep, insomnia would make its way to you.
rolling your eyes you went to the kitchen, you thought everyone was asleep rn, so you paid no mind yo your outfit, a small cropped sweatshirt, leggings and fluffy slippers.
you were about to eat your slice of bread with jam when a sudden voice made you drop it to the washer “can’t sleep?” “jesus fuck!” you swore you felt your heart stop for a second, you never saw anyone in here!
you turned around to see the same guy from before, keegan, who just stared at you, seated in a chair with a book in his hands, it almost looked like he was trying to contain his laugh.
“what’s wrong with you!” you said with a smile laughing, he probably saw your bread jump to the washer “me? nothing, was just asking” he said it so proud of himself “how do you even read with all the lights off?” by now you had turned to him, still by the counter “i wasn’t reading, i was drinking tea” “oh” you never saw the cup of tea beside the book silly you.
“just know you ruined my dinner” you said pouting “and you asked my what’s wrong with me” he said scoffing “oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t eat late at night” “no i do princess, just not a bread with jam at 3 in the morning” his nickname made you stop your breath for a second, deciding to pay no mind to it “but you do you princess” he was by your side now, putting his cup of tea in the washer, until you saw him freeze next to you, there was small light coming from outside, oh yea, you had no bra on.
he could see see your breasts, your nipples to be precise, under your sweatshirt, practically begging to be touched, your sweatshirt was so small it had ridden up just a tiny bit when you were making your dinner, making keegan see a small part of your under breast.
“princess” keegan suddenly moved closer to you, making you see his eyes better, revealing a captivating shade of blue, a mesmerizing hue that held a subtle warmth within its cool depths, caught your attention.
his gaze, unwavering in its intensity, sent a gentle warmth through you, leaving a blush on your cheeks again, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection forged in that shared moment.
“you still don’t know my name” which was true making you ask for it, when he said it, he saw the realization in your eyes “oh! i’m working with you in the next mission” you said a bit breathlessly “glad to have you with us” you could see the deep appreciation for you in his eyes.
keegan had heard about you, he knew of your well-regarded reputation as a translator, held a silent acknowledgment of the confidentiality that shrouded your professional endeavors.
in the subtle lines of his expression, you could see respect for the enigma that surrounded you, a recognition that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. “thank you” you said, he just nodded to you, he was so close to you now you could feel his chest, and his chest could feel your nipples. you just held your breath keeping eye contact with him “well, princess, you must get your sleep, i won’t keep you up” you were in a trance when he moved, snapping you out of it “goodnight keegan” you said in a small voice. keegan smiled behind his mask.
ever since then, a connection quietly unfolded between you and keegan. it initially started as him being a distant observer, he always kept his eyes on you everywhere you went, even more when you were speaking russian towards the males, you held such confidence with you he was deeply allured with you.
his presence evolved into a silent shield, a comforting assurance amidst the unfamiliarity of a foreign land. he may couldn’t understand russian, but he sure as hell could see the body language and the tones they were speaking to you.
everytime he could sense any sort of verbal assault at you, his steely gaze fixed upon the adversaries with an intensity that spoke volumes, as well as his hidden raised gun;), sensing the weight of his silent threat, they found themselves silenced. even though you had no idea he was threatening them behind you.
you always knew keegan had your back, and silently thanked him for it. as the time passed, you felt keegan more protective of you, and you more attentive of him, you two were almost all the time together.
there were moments, a shared smile in the midst of icy winds, or a wordless understanding in the chaos of a mission, that spoke louder than words. in these instances, his protective instinct manifested – a steady hand guiding you through the challenges, a silent assurance that you were not alone. metaphorically as well as physically.
his interactions evolved into a touch that carried a warmth beyond mere protection. his gestures, once purely professional, became tinged with an affectionate familiarity.
a guiding hand on the small of your back during a mission briefing or a reassuring touch on your shoulder in moments of uncertainty, each contact seemed to convey a connection that lingered beyond the realm of your relationship.
these touches carried a feeling of something more, a silent language of shared emotions between you and him. in the hushed moments when his hand lingered a second longer than necessary or the gentle squeeze that accompanied a reassuring smile.
in the dim glow of the base's common area, keegan’s touches continued to weave a tapestry of unspoken connection. a shared moment over a map had his fingers brushing against yours, the contact lingering for a heartbeat longer than required, it was practically normal for you to be blushing around him now.
during a particularly challenging mission, his arm found its way around your shoulders, a protective embrace in the face of caos. in that moment you just wanted to be beside him all the time, you felt safe around him.
there was also a time in which keegan was behind you, listening to what you would be doing, until he felt rather not okay with what you were supposed to do. he suddenly put his hand discreetly on your waist, and the other arm in front of your chest, his hand subtly telling “no”
“she’s with us, meaning we protect her, what you’re saying is risky for her, she won’t do it” you felt warmth on your chest. you have never experienced this, the other teams you had been were never this attentive with you. it was a weird emotion for you, you were used to always seek for yourself.
in the quiet of the nights, a shared gaze held more than words could express. keegan’s hand, a reassuring presence, sought yours across the table, fingers intertwining with yours, squeezing your fingers every now and then. he did that more times than you could count.
the line between friendship and something deeper became increasingly blurred, leaving both of you suspended in the uncharted territory of unspoken emotions.
the endearing term "princess" slipped from his lips almost all the time, a word you loved hearing from him even though you never tell him. it became a private language, whether in the midst of a mission or during quiet evenings, the endearment echoed, making you warm inside all the time.
keegan’s feelings had transcended the boundaries of friendship, evolving into a profound connection that bordered into almost being in love with you.
his gaze, once intense, now carried a softness that showed a deep admiration, a mesmerizing allure that held him captivated in your presence.
his eyes just seemed to follow you everywhere, absorbing every detail of you, every facet of your being, as if etching your essence into his soul.
the desire to be with you became a palpable force, an unspoken longing that lingered in the spaces between conversations. the way his fingers sought yours, the way he leaned in, just a fraction closer than necessary – each action seemed to fluster you more and more.
you too couldn’t deny it, you felt drawn to him, but even with the warmth of his company and shared moments, there was a bit of confusion.
your feelings were kind of mixed up, wanting to connect with him but also feeling unsure about it. it’s like a struggle between what your heart wants and what your head is thinking.
you just don’t know how to respond to him :(
figuring out your own feelings became a bit like wandering through a maze, with no clear destination.
being close to keegan made you feel good, but accepting his love brought its own set of uncertainties. you tried taking things one step at a time, trying to make sense of your own heart and the budding feelings between you two.
until you just couldn’t anymore
you were in a very heated meeting with keegan, as always, behind you, talking to a very dangerous person, in a very dangerous place, at any moment now something could happen, making you feel on edge all the time there. you felt keegan’s hand hold your shoulder softly, reminding you he is here with you.
in the middle of the conversation, you saw in less than a second the man’s eyes change, from angry, to weirdly happy, like he was going to be free from all this interrogation. you were confused, until you heard it.
bullets and bullets and more bullets echoed in the building, as well as some passing through the windows in the small office you were. in a second keegan had moved you, shielding you from any possible damage
you heard him speak to the captain, the captain said they were under attack, making difficult to get out of there. you were alone inside with keegan and the man, he was tied to the table though, so you weren’t worried he would escape.
keegan held you behind his back, opening the door and checking if it was safe to go out. he made a clear sign and went to the right side. you were shaking of fear, you could hear explosions all over the place, the shaking of the floor, bullets everywhere, it was crazy.
suddenly a man spawned out of nowhere pulling keegan and tried stabbing him.
the military gave you a gun before you left, you had basic military training, knew how to use a gun, yet never needed to. but seeing keegan almost being stabbed made you react on instinct, you pulled your gun in less than a second and shoot the bastard. keegan’s was free from the man’s arm and shot another bullet between his head.
you just stood there, the adrenaline was making it hard to process what just happened, but you could feel your body trembling with fear, you may have possibly just killed a man. you’ve never done that in your life.
keegan saw the fear in your eyes “princess, hey, i need you to focus on me” keegan’s grabbed your face, you stared at him, worry clear in your eyes “you saved me and you’re a fucking badass for that” keegan’s appreciation words dragged you out of the dark thoughts you were falling to.
you both heard footsteps approaching you, making keegan grab your hand, tight, and walked to the other direction, you moved faster than him, adrenaline was making you rushed now, until you were about to move to the other corner of the hallway and saw armed men looking for, you supposed, keegan and you.
you pushed keegan back, startling him for a second, until he could hear the voices. you had a door next to you, keegan opened it and dragged you both inside. it was small, very small, yet enough for hiding. keegan turned you so his back was to the door, always protecting you first.
you on the other hand, was shaking shitless again, you could understand what they were saying, they were here for you, obviously not happy at all that you knew about what they were doing.
keegan once again tried dragging you out of your starting panic attack, he said your name twice trying to get your attention. you looked at him, you were very much fucking scared.
“hey, you’re with me, i won’t let anything happen to you okay?” you felt one of keegan’s hand hold your head softly, the other went to your back. you then realized he was hugging you, you were so close to each other he didn’t even need to moved you closer. you moved your hands to hold his back too, resting your head on his shoulder.
in the middle of the chaotic circumstances, keegan emerged as your anchor, his presence became the grounding point that helped you survive this.
it was then when it hit you, the realization, the profound connection that resonated beyond words. attempting to utter his name, you found your voice stifled by anxiety, your very core trembling with fear.
keegan, ever perceptive, tightened his hold around you, a silent reassurance.
as the threat passed by your door, keeping your mouth shut became a necessity, not just for the mission at hand but also to guard the burgeoning emotions inside you.
after a few minutes, you could hear them muffled, meaning they were far. keegan opened the door, still holding you, and looked out, he saw that it was clear “let’s go princess”
the next few minutes was you and keegan trying to get out of here, it was almost like a maze, the explosions seemed to calm down as well as the bullets. but there was still people looking for you.
you were about to turn to your left when a hand grabbed you from your neck, choking you, you tried to scream, but the man was fast, he suddenly pushed you to the wall, punching you in the face, almost breaking your nose, but you moved just in time your face, hitting you in the cheek.
you suddenly remembered you had a gun, you pulled it out, raising it fast to the middle of his head and shot him quick.
it was ugly, scary, and it glued you to your spot, all his blood soaked you, yet his hold on you loosened, making the man fall to your shoulder, surely staining your coat.
you were so fucking scared you thanked the lord keegan grabbed the man and lunched him to the wall behind.
you were again almost in shock, but keegan was in front of you fast “come on baby, we need to leave this hell” keegan kept dragging you, your body fully trusting him, because you were going into shock now.
you saw light, and finally you were out, a few dead people scattered on the ground, not helping you at all.
it until you saw the familiar humvee you felt slight ease. everyone saw your state, blood soaking all your face, dripping all over your coat. quite a sight. keegan just shakes his head to his teammates, silently telling them that you needed space now.
the soldiers admired you, even cared for you after all this time, it was clear seeing you like this worried them, but they trusted keegan, and they know you trust keegan too.
keegan helped you up the humvee, sitting next to you, you felt him whispering beside you “you okay?” you just nodded taking a small ragged breath, wiping your nose. you felt disgusting, you could feel the man’s blood dripping down your nose, the need to shower was strong right now.
keegan just softly held your hand, squeezing it to help you ground yourself, but you just couldn’t, you were so bloody anxious right now you couldn’t stop moving your leg up and down.
keegan felt it, slightly worried about you, he knew you’ve never been in combat before, let alone kill someone. you felt his hand slowly let go of yours, and put it on top of your thigh, making you halt your movements.
he kept it there slightly above your knee, massaging a little, not daring to move his hand up higher.
the ride to base was just the captain talking to someone on the radio, other than that, it was silent.
as soon as you arrived to base, you hurried out of the humvee, and fast towards the barracks, feeling the weight of the mission on your shoulders. you desperately needed the shower.
keegan stayed by the humvee, not following you right away. he stood there, giving you room. he could understand the impact of what just happened, and knew letting you calm down first was a good idea.
the letting you calm down time meant maybe you would come out of your room later, but now, it was 11:45 pm, and keegan was more than worried about you now. he had no idea you were still in the shower, living the past event over and over in your head.
you just couldn’t erase the image from your brain, just seeing the man’s eyes go lifeless in front of you, it was such a crazy thing to look at, and you weren’t dealing with it very okay.
you felt dirty, even though you cleaned your body more than twice. you had lost the track of time, you were so inside your brain you forgot to eat something. your stomach begging for food now, making you feel nauseous.
you just put on a brown long sleeve sweatshirt with some random leggings. you knew it was last midnight now, making it easier for you, you didn’t want to see anyone right now.
keegan, on the verge of heading to your room, noticed you entering the kitchen. your eyes were red, and your nose was puffy – the signs of tears evident. the concern on his face deepened as he observed the aftermath of emotions that had washed over you. he paused, recognizing the fragility in your demeanor, reconsidering whether to approach and offer comfort in this vulnerable moment.
spotting keegan in the kitchen, you froze in place. your hair, still damp, added a chill to the atmosphere, and a subtle shiver ran through you. keegan stood there, his worry evident in his eyes. the unspoken concern made you feel a twinge of guilt for disappearing, realizing the impact it had on him.
feeling the wave of emotions crash over you once again, tears welled up, and sobs escaped despite your efforts. a whispered "i'm sorry" escaped your lips, muffled by your trembling hand pressed against your mouth. the vulnerability laid bare.
in an instant, keegan was by your side. dressed in a simple black sweatshirt and cargo pants, he became your anchor once again.
his chest against your trembling form, you held him tight, as if seeking solace in the warmth of his presence. his hands gently cradled your head and waist, offering a silent reassurance, “nothin’ to be sorry about princess” you could feel his deep voice rumble in his chest “it’s okay”
his hand now gently petting your hair as you clung to him. between sobs, you began to express the guilt weighing on your chest. "i feel so bad for leaving like that" you admitted, the words punctuated by shaky breaths.
the shock of your actions you did a while ago lingered, casting a shadow on your thoughts. the vulnerability in sharing your feelings with keegan felt both liberating and daunting. it was a bad habit of yours, disappear whenever you felt any emotion that wasn’t happiness. it was normal to you:( even if it’s been more than 12 hours since you last emerged from your room.
keegan’s voice, calm and reassuring, cut through the heaviness of the moment. "it's okay," he whispered, his hand still tenderly stroking your hair. "you're here now, and that's what matters."
a flicker of strength ignited within you, and you stood a little taller, you pressed a tender kiss on keegan’s cheek, your hand lingering on his face for a heartbeat. his eyes held an unspoken love, you could see it clearly now.
keegan’s question for the kiss hung in the air, a gentle curiosity evident in his gaze. you felt his mask close and his breaths deepen, you took a moment, meeting his intense eyes. "it’s a thank you," you said softly, "for always protecting me."
his response was a tightening of the embrace, bringing you even closer. his face, now near yours, held an intensity matched by the deep breaths he took. in a rough voice deep with emotion, he confessed, "you driving me fucking crazy." the admission hung in the air, your cheeks flushing furiously.
a playful challenge danced in your eyes as you maintained intense eye contact. "what if you show me how much I drive you crazy?" you suggested, your doe eyes locked onto his.
a groan escaped him as he dropped his head to your shoulder. laughter bubbled from you, but your breath hitched as keegan shifted, causing your sweatshirt to ride up slightly. the short length and absence of a bra made you almost flash him your right breast.
keegan could feel it, in fact, he could feel your nipples pressed on him since he hugged you, making his pants feel tighter.
you felt keegan’s hand move up, near your breast, starting to massage there, making you blush furiously “may i remind you were are still in public keegan” you didn’t want anyone walk in on keegan almost touching your breasts, in the middle of the kitchen.
startling you in a swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, his strong hold on your bum leaving you feeling both surprised and strangely like jelly inside, and before you could voice your concerns, he began walking towards your room.
you were silently screaming at him about the possibility of getting caught, but keegan just tightened his hold on you more like squeezing your booty, effectively silencing you.
the situation didn't seem to faze him as he navigated the corridors, your protests muted in the intensity of the moment. the world outside seemed to fade away as keegan carried you and opened your door, leaving behind a trail of laughter and a flutter of unspoken excitement.
you thought he was going to drop you now, but no! he just went to your bed, and dropped you, making you bounce and laugh at what he just did “such a romantic” keegan just held the back of your legs and dragged you near his cock.
that motion made your shirt roll up, now showing him your bare breasts. you widened your eyes a little, but keegan looked like he was more enamored by you now “what a fucking sight i have” he couldn't help but revel in the intimate view of you beneath him. your eyes, filled with affection, locked onto his, radiating a warmth that mirrored the depth of your connection.
the air thickened with tension, and keegan couldn't ignore the tightening in his pants, a physical response to the emotional intimacy and the allure of the moment. “look how you make me feel princess” you could feel it, near your cunt, his big cock, making a big tent in his pants.
you just couldn’t anymore, you rolled your hips up a little, the sensation almost made you cum on the spot, but keegan just made a noise of disapproval “nuh uh, let me have my time with my princess yeah?” you blushed even more when keegan took a hold of your hips, and slowly moved his hands up, dying to touch your breasts.
when his hands finally felt them, he was on cloud 9. they were so soft and moldeable in his hands he could feel precum leaking from his cock. keegan lowered himself close your breasts, rolled his mask up, and licked your nipple making you moan.
he started sucking on your nipple like a man starved, while the other hand groped your other breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers. you were panting, his hands were god sent, as well as his mouth.
that’s when you felt the sudden urge to kiss him. and you couldn’t wait anymore. feeling the magnetic pull, you took charge, gently dragging his face upward to meet yours. in a bold move, your lips crashed against his, a collision of desire and longing.
a sound of contentment escaped keegan, emotions flowing between you like an electric current. the world outside the moment ceased to exist as the intensity of the kiss spoke volumes, an unspoken exchange of emotions and desires woven into the fabric of that stolen, passionate embrace.
keegan deepened the kiss even more, angling your head better, he was heaven sent. in the heat of the kiss, your hands, seemingly of their own accord, found their way to his mask. it became an unconscious exploration, a touch laden with curiosity. unexpectedly, keegan broke the kiss, startling you, and swiftly snatched away his mask.
in the soft glow of the small light, his face was revealed, and you found yourself enraptured by the sight of him.
"you’re so beautiful" the words slipped from your lips almost involuntarily. a deep resonance of satisfaction echoed in keegan’s chest, and without a moment's hesitation, he dragged you up. seated on his knees, you found yourself straddling him, his hands on your waist and bum, fondling with it making you whine, as your lips met again in a deep, intoxicating kiss, yet you felt needy.
involuntarily you moved your hips, grinding right on his cock, making him groan deeply “fuck baby, you’re going to make me cum” knowing he was as aroused as you made you feel even more needy, making you grind your hips even more.
keegan’s hand took a hold of your hips, making you stop your movements. you whined again, even surprising you, you’ve never met this side of you, so needy of someone.
keegan's touch on your face was soft, almost reverent. he spoke with a gentle intensity, "i want to worship you. let me." the request hung in the air, and you, captivated by the depth of his gaze, agreed with a simple nod.
with deliberate tenderness, keegan laid you back onto the bed, his hands moving to the fabric of your clothes. He began with your sweatshirt, each movement deliberate and unhurried, as if unraveling the layers of vulnerability and desire between you two. as he raised your sweatshirt up, his hands once again touched your breasts, making you moan lowly.
keegan just smirked, having removed your sweatshirt, he then proceeded to shed his own shirt. the unveiling of his toned body drew an involuntary blush to your cheeks. his eyes caught yours, and a playful smile graced his lips.
"like what you see?" he teased, the husky timbre of his voice adding a layer of seduction to the moment. the air hung heavy with anticipation as you met his gaze, your response a silent affirmation that echoed in the space between you two.
keegan, still holding your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes, continued his deliberate exploration. his hands, deft and unhurried, moved to your leggings.
with tenderness, he peeled them away, revealing more of your vulnerability. the room seemed to pulse with shared desire as each layer of clothing fell away, creating an intimate tapestry of connection between you and Keegan.
you were only with your panties on now, and keegan with his grey boxers, not hiding anything, making you slightly anxious, he looked very big, and you’ve never done this before.
a sudden realization gripped you, and you couldn't help but say, "wait" keegan, on the verge of sliding your panties off, halted immediately, his expression shifting to one of concern.
nervously, you confessed, "i’ve never done this before." the vulnerability in your admission hung in the air, an unspoken plea for understanding and patience. the room, once charged with desire, now held a new layer of intimacy.
keegan, surprised by your revelation, felt a renewed sense of responsibility. he looked into your eyes, the desire tempered with understanding, and reassured you, "i’ll go slow. we’ll take it at your pace."
his words carried a gentle promise, a commitment to make you feel at ease in this intimate moment. keegan then slowly slide your panties off, your cunt now bare and displayed in front of him. keegan just stared at it for a second, absolutely beautiful he thought; all shiny with your slick, begging for some attention. and who was he to deny it.
one thing about keegan, he loved foreplay, and you, you liked it too, but he’s made you cum twice! fingers and tongue involved, you weren’t complaining, but you really wanted his cock now.
from where you were, you could see his boxer stained with precum, making you whine, you were past needy now “i need you keegan, please” keegan heard the whiny tone from you, making his cock even more hard.
“such a needy princess aren’t you” keegan swiftly removed his boxers down, his cock sprang free on his stomach. your mouth was watering just seeing it. it was big, veiny and thick.
you didn’t think it, you were on all 4s now, keegan was looking behind dropping his boxer when he felt your mouth on his cock, making him hiss loud as well as whined “fuck princess, what are you doing?” you could hear his voice strained, like he was containing himself.
you didn’t answer, it was your first time doing this, yet you felt confident when you swallowed almost his whole cock down your throat, making keegan’s hands grab your head, pushing you deeper, making his eyes roll back.
“who taught you this?” he was a panting mess now, you kept bobbing your head up and down, using your angelic hands to grab his balls, swollen with his cum, massaging them, making keegan go all over the edge.
he didn’t warn you, just grabbed your head dragging it all the way down, thrusting his big cock down your throat, moaning loud. you decided to look at him then, giving your best puppy eyes you could, making keegan mesmerized with you, you could see all his reactions from here, his stomach clenching, his mouth panting, and his eyes full of love.
“i’m gonna cum love” you felt keegan trying to move his cock out of your mouth, but you just grabbed his hips, pushed them to you, and moving your tongue around his veiny cock.
keegan cummed on the spot, thick white ropes of cum going all the way down your throat, you as the princess you are, swallowed it whole, keeping your hand on his balls, feeling them clench everytime he cummed.
you were sure keegan was about to pass out now, that was the hardest orgasm he’s ever felt.
his desire was evident in the intensity of his gaze, deciding to take charge. his hands gently grasped your head, lifting you slightly making you put your hands on his big muscular chest. a deep, intense kiss ensued, each meeting of your lips sending a shiver through your body.
keegan murmured a sweet praise, "you’re such a beautiful good girl aren’t you?" he was still in his post orgasmic state, making you laugh a little, but this man had a very strong stamina.
you could feel his cock hard again in between your stomach making you put your hand on top of his slit. he bucked his hips a little “come on now” he said with a strained voice “let me make you feel good” desire evident in his voice.
keegan laid you down on the bed, moving your thighs open, letting your cunt once open to him. keegan not waisting a second now, aligned his cock with your cunt, dragging it up and down your folds “stop teasing keegan” you said pouting.
it took you by surprise when you felt his tip in your entrance, making you stop your breath for a second, keegan was smirking now, how easy it was to shut your needy ass up.
“i’ll go slow yeah? you tell me if it too much princess” keegan started sliding his thick cock insided your virgin cunt, it felt weird, a slight burn everytime he slide deeper.
keegan on the other hand was in awe, he saw your cunt swallowing his cock inside, inch by inch, your puffy clit at view too. in a second keegan had his hand on your clit, slowly circling it, making you moan, allowing his cock to slide further.
once he bottomed, he stayed there, he was still on his knees, allowing him a beautiful view. you had your knees next to your breasts, his cock swallowed by your cunt, your face flushed.
he couldn’t wait anymore, keegan dropped his forearms next to your head, and started grinding his cock inside your cunt. you felt so full, and him grinding was almost hitting your womb, making you moan loudly. “keegan you’re so deep” you said frowning from pleasure, your nails were on his big muscular biceps, hanging on for dear life.
“does it feel good?” “very fucking good” you said moaning the last word, keegan had his head hidden on your neck, his pace now a bit faster, balls hitting your ass everytime he thrusted, the skin to skin slapping sound resonating all over your room, creating such an erotic scene.
keegan then raised his head and kissed you deeply, his hand holding your head softly, you could feel him even deeper now. he had you on a mating press, his chest squeezing your breasts making your nipples stand out even more “you feel so fucking good princess” “this cunt belongs to me yeah” “you’re all fucking mine”
keegan kept saying this small praises everytime he thrusted, but what made your orgasm come quick was when he said you were his. yes you were. you were his since you met him. he was there for you ever since then, always by his side, always his.
“y-yes i am” keegan’s intense gaze was on you now “i’m yours keegan, all yours” he hit a particular spot inside you that you saw stars, moaning loud “say that again princess” “i’m yours” keegan was about to cum just from hearing you say that.
“and you’re all mine” you kissed him hard when you said that. keegan never thought you were the possessive type, yet when he heard you say that, you could say he fell in love even deeper “you’re all fucking mine keegan” you started meeting his thrusts with your hips, your clit rubbing with his stomach making your orgasm come fast.
keegan could feel it, you were clenching stronger now, almost making him stop his movements “you cumming princess?” that goddamn nickname was going to be the death of you “i want to cum with you”
your needy voice made keegan tighten his hold on you, and thrust deeper, and slower. keegan grabbed your face and kissed you, his other hand rubbing your clit. making you cum hard.
keegan cummed in an instant too, feeling your cunt clenching around his cock too, your orgasm so hard you closed your eyes. he cummed inside you, sliding even further, letting all his cum coat your walls with him. only him.
he stayed there for a while, letting you come down from the high. you were breathing hard, his cock now softening inside you, yet you didn’t want him to come out yet.
you used your feet to hit him on the hips, making him slide a bit more “stay here for a while” keegan caught the message, you wanted to cuddle. with him still inside you.
you were a sucker for cuddles, and touch starved. so when keegan laid down, still inside you, and dragged you almost on top of him, you felt shivers down your spine.
as keegan’s arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, a warmth spread through you, reaching the neglected corners of your soul. the gentle cradle of his arms was a stark contrast to the void you hadn’t realized existed, a reminder of the absence of such intimate touch in your life.
his arms forming a protective cocoon around you, fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back. the rise and fall of his chest against your back mirrored the rhythm of shared breaths, creating a serene melody.
it wasn't just the physical closeness; it was the profound sense of being seen and held, a silent promise that in his arms, you were cherished and safe.
a few minutes had passed when you felt keegan sitting up, you as well on his lap, making you pout “don’t make that face” he said condescending “i need to clean you up yeah?”
keegan carried you all the way down your bathroom, again, still inside you, and seated you on the counter. he took a really long look to your breasts. such beautiful breasts just sitting there, making him want to hold them again.
“enjoying the view” you said in a proud tone, keegan just moved his eyes to your face and laid a small kiss to your cheek. you started feeling how keegan slid his now soft cock out your cunt, once it was all out, he just stayed there, looking at both your cunt and his cock “look at the mess you made love”
his cock was full of his cum, and yours, you felt all his cum slide out of your cunt, now on the counter, the sight making keegan’s cock start hardening again, and you saw that as well.
you just stared at him, beautiful doe eyes, and grabbed his cock. “can’t get tired of this cock huh?” you just smiled, stood up, and dragged him to the shower. that was the best shower sex you’ve ever had.
after the shower, keegan was behind you like a lost puppy, just wanting to be near you, touching your waist, squishing it, as well as your bum, all while you were doing your small skin care.
and on bed? keegan was even more cuddly than you! he said, scratch that, obliged you to be the little spoon. now you had his beautiful face right next to you, his hand drawing small circles in your waist, going near your breasts to tease you, your legs tangled beneath the sheets. you could get used to this.
“so, for how long have i driven you crazy?” keegan heard the cheekiness in your voice, you probably knew keegan was head over heels for you, acting all dumb to torture him, making keegan groan behind you “i’m going to keep it with for a while”
you laughed, putting your hands on top of the one that was on your waist, dragging it near your lips, planting a soft kiss there. when you kissed his hand, an unexpected tenderness surged within him, like a flood of warmth.
in response, he hid his face against your neck, as if to shield himself from the cascade of emotions, laying a few kisses here and there. you really could get used to this.
♡
AHHHHHH the end ;’[ i love fluff, was deciding if splitting this into chapters but i got carried away and made it a one shot jiji
warnings: female anatomy, female titles, plugs, praising, mentions of pregnancy, blowjob, cockwarming, cunnilingus, keegan is a munch!
kinktober masterlist (day 29)
Your back arched, panting and left breathless as he pulls away from your drooling cunt. Your hole aches, raw and throbbing from Keegan's rough pace. He chuckles lowly, pushing the diamond plug inside your hole to plug his potent cum inside you.
“Gotta make sure my cum stays inside, not a drop...” Keegan leans back, admiring the mess. He holds your thighs open; caked in cum and slick, wet and sticky while you look at him dizzily, your eyes halfway shut. He grunts at the sight, smacking his tip against your clit, leaning down to lap over it.
Your hole is full, stuffed with a plug, sucking and licking at your visible clit, making you shudder and sob and shake due to another orgasm pooling at your cunny. “Wanna see ya' swollen. With my babies.” he smiles at you, sucking at your clit harshly before manhandling you.
He stands up, your back against the mattress head tilted off so he can throat fuck you. He eases inside, gripping at your titties and groaning out when he pushes fully inside your mouth. Keegan's fingers toy with the plug, rubbing your clit while fucking and thrusting against your mouth sloppily. You cry, weep and whimper around him, especially when he rubs his wet thumb against your sensitive, greedy nub.
With your pussy full and wet, he smacks his broad hips against your mouth, his fat and girthy dick thrusted down your throat. “Wanna see ya' pregnant...” he gasps out when you tighten your lips around him, a visible outline of his cock in your throat. He groans, rubbing your clit and watching you tighten your thighs. Moaning around his shaft while the head of his girth smacks against the back of your throat, spurting thick and hot seed down your throat.
You pant when he looks away, pulling the plug from your cunny, his sticky seed oozing out and coating your thighs. It runs down to your asshole, milky white cum, sticky when he runs his fingertip against your glossy and slick slit.
He definitely made you clean off the plug while eating his cum out of you, his tongue curled inside.
Summary— (request)— keegan humps you while you relax on the couch, because there no way you’d let his fine ass leave with that nice black shirt and gray sweatpants, especially when you could make his cheeks go red… and his cock too.
RED
“C’mon baby” Keegan muttered in between kisses, the two of you were on the couch, both fully clothed. You’d be a dumbass if you let him walk around in that nice black shirt that accentuates his body way to well.
He held your hips, his grip was so tight it could form bruises if you didn’t have some pants on, the way he rubbed up against you was heavenly, his hard cock in his gray sweatpants just made it all so much better. You could see the imprint and tent in his pants, and the now forming spot in the crotch of his sweats, his precum smeared on.
The way he grinds on you makes your mind go hazy, he wants nothing more than to pull those pants of your off and place his cock in between your thighs.
But he continued on with his humping as you told him to cum in his pants before he could feel you.
Keegan leaned in and kissed you again, his kisses were always so passionate, as he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it lightly as his hips stuttered for a few moments before going back to its steady pace as his lips went red from making out with you.
“mm..m’gonna come” Keegan moaned as his cock rubbed up against your clit, giving you the friction you craved. Your moans and whimpers only made his brain go to mush, nothing in the world was better than this, nothing could compare to the feeling of this, the noises you made.
Your hips lifted meeting his every movement, it only made it better, he moaned loudly as he tucked his face into your neck, his forehead felt sweaty as it brushed up against your shoulder.
“mmm..” he groaned, as he looked up and kissed you again, he pulled away slowly, before leaning back in, his tongue brushing against yours as he kissed you, he pulled away again, and you watched as his brows scrunch up, his cheeks going more red then they already are.
“Baby..” he moaned as his hips moved erratically, finally feeling his high approaching, his finger circled around your clit as he tried to get you close with him so you could feel the same euphoria he knew he was about to experience.
“Keegan-” you moaned, your hips bucked as you came in your panties as he came in his own boxers, his sweats lowered more with his movements, revealing the band.
He stopped for a few moments moaning into your ear as his face stuffed into the pillow. “Y/n..” he whined, he kissed your earlobe gently. Keegan hovered over you again; looking at you with pleading eyes for permission to finally pull all your guy’s clothes off, and fuck you right then and there
“Sure handsome” you nodded, the both of you panted as he hurried to pull your pants off along with your panties, your hands tugged his Calvin Kleins down, revealing his pretty red cock.
!nsfw, smut, unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), virgin!reader, violence, blood, injuries, proceed with caution. No minors!
Keegan does not feel like his life is that eventful.
He does the same thing day in and day out it seems, until a group of new recruits happened to join the base he was on. He turned into a big brother pretty much. Guiding them and teaching them everything there was to know about pretty much anything on base. Keegan was pretty smart, he knew his way around a lot of things. Guns, body armor, humvee’s, military training. But one recruit really stuck out to him, because while the others didn’t know too much. She did.
When it came down to it and he was teaching, sometimes she would make comments about it. Clearly knowing her way around a few things and that’s when he took to her.
You.
You might have been new, but you knew a lot. You absorbed a lot of the information you were taught and you liked that Keegan was so able to teach, and more or less willing to. It didn’t take long for you and Keegan to start getting along, the kicker was seeing you out on the field. The way you moved, the way you never missed a shot. Your ability to sense when something didn’t feel right. Your fight to not move forward if something didn’t feel right. It helped create a friendship between you and Keegan. Not only did you get along well on the field, but you had more in common than you originally thought.
This resulted in the two of you getting sent out on missions with each other.
Neither of you had any feelings for each other. It was platonic and you had even opened up to each other about other relationships and problems you’d had. When Keegan found out you were a virgin, he made sure to tell you to keep it to yourself. That guys always had a thing about girls being virgins. He worried about you, worried about you getting taken advantage of especially.
Neither of you had any feelings for each other. Or so you thought.
Keegan has been scared. He’s been terrified before. He’s spent a lot of his adult life in the military, of course he’s had his fair share of scares. But there’s nothing he’s been through that compares to you lunging in front of him and taking a bullet to the stomach for him.
It happens in just a split second and you’re on the ground before he realizes what’s happening, raising his gun to eliminate the threat before zeroing in on you. He’s got tunnel vision.
Everything sounds muffled and he doesn’t know what’s going on around him, he sees blood. A lot of it.
It’s like an explosion went off and all he can hear is ringing and muffled sounds. He doesn’t remember much.
The most he remembers is covering your wound and lifting you up, carrying you to Medivac and praying to god to save you because he can’t live without you. The pilot glances back a couple of times, seeing the way Keegan rocks you back and forth, chanting out pleas and prayers.
On base, he sits outside the infirmary. He’s still covered in your blood but refuses to move from his spot. He’s not going anywhere until he sees you. Until he can touch your skin and still feel its warmth. Until your bright eyes are staring back into his and there’s a smile on your face.
His brain gets the best of him. It travels to dark places unknown to others, unknown to him until now. He thinks about your eyes looking back at him, like marbles. Empty, the life drained out of them. He thinks of your cold, pale skin. Lifeless as you look back at him. Your personality drained from your body until you’re gone, and all that’s left is flesh and skin.
Keegan has never had these thoughts. He’s never talked to god like this before.
“Keegan?” He looks up, hearing his name. “She’s going to be fine. Would you like to see her?” The medic asks. He nods his head, eagerly. Following her inside. He’s scared. If you look like you do in his brain, he’s going to fall apart.
He approaches slow, but can see you. Your skin is paler from your blood loss. But the color is still there. Your chest moves up and down with each breath you take, and that’s when Keegan breaks down. He rushes out of the infirmary, tears streaming down his face. He can’t take this. The medic watches him disappear, wiping his eyes. He’s trying not to make it obvious that he’s crying. But she can tell.
When you wake up later, she’s getting ready to change your bandages.
“Nice to see you awake, Y/N.” She smiles. Your lips raise just slightly. You’re weak and tired. “I’m still here.” You mumble. Your voice is hoarse and cracks when you talk. “Yeah. I think despite YOU being the one shot, you owe Keegan a huge apology.” She chuckles. You look confused. “Poor guy is just torn to pieces over this. I knew you’d be fine from the moment I saw your wound but he just sat outside. I think he’s still out there.” She laughs. You look even more confused than before. Thinking to yourself, must be survivors guilt. He didn’t want you to die since you took the bullet for him?
“You’re pretty much all patched up. There’s not much more we can do for you. You had an exit wound and you’ve been out for a while.” She laughs. “Want me to get Keegan?” She asks. “Uh.. if he’s out there. If not I’ll be alright I think.” You mumble, throwing your legs over the side of the cot. It feels foreign to move, it hurts. She makes her way over to the door, opening it up. He perks up when she comes out. “You mind helping?” She asks. He nods his head. Thinking maybe she just couldn’t get the cap off of something again. But he’s surprised when he steps inside and you’re looking back at him. He feels tears gather at his waterline.
Be tough Keegan.
“Hey.” He smiles. You can’t see it because of his mask, but the moment the medic steps out to give you two some time, he’s tugging it off. And he’s just pure Keegan.
Sharp jawline, pretty eyes. He’s a lot more handsome than you thought he’d be. He sees the way your breath hitches in your throat. Obviously at seeing him without his mask. This is raw Keegan, he can only thank god you can’t read his soul. Or his thoughts. He’s worried. He can’t love you. Not like this anyways.
“Not gonna lie, you scared the hell out of me.” His lips just barely tug up into a smile. Like he wants you to think he’s joking but clearly isn’t. You give him a lazy smile in return and he has to look away. Even with a scary low amount of blood in your body. Your pale skin, your dull eyes. Your hair that hasn’t been brushed or washed for a few days. He still thinks you’re stunning.
He takes a deep breath. “Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckles. “Like what?”
“Like this means nothing to you.” He scoffs, a smile on his face. “This means everything to me.” You give him another smile. The same as the one before. This one more mischievous than the last. “Yeah, why’s that?”
“Cause. It could be you here. But it’s not.”
“I think I’d prefer me there over you, you psychopath.” He rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t just stand there and watch you get shot. You know that.” You look up at him. “I know.. but. You didn’t have to take a bullet for me.”
“I think maybe I did.”
He pauses. Crossing his arms. “What?”
“Cause than you’d know how much you mean to me.”
As those words leave your lips, he feels the tears again.
What the fuck is with the goddamn tears over you? You’re just a girl!
He looks down. His nose starts to flush crimson. Something that has always dammed Keegan is the way his nose turns red when he’s getting upset.
“Don’t be a sap, there’s plenty of other ways you could’ve proven that to me.” He laughs, sitting next to you on the bed. “She told me how scared you were.” You turn to look him in the eyes again. “I figured she would.” He leans back, laying back across the cot. “What does this mean Keegan?”
He sighs. “You know, being with you is what I imagine heaven is like.” He swallows hard. You’re quiet. Letting him talk. “But I think this job is hell and it will be a battle to keep you around when everytime we’re off this base we’re getting shot at and blown up.”
“Keegan.” You sigh. Grasping his hand. “I don’t think they’re going to let me stay after a wound like this.. you know?” You mumble. He nods. “They’re probably going to discharge me, it’s going to take more than a couple days healing for something like this. And.. I know that your contract is about to be up.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that.. if what you say is true. And being with me is Heaven.” You pause, looking down. “Then maybe this is your chance to see what heaven is really supposed to be like.”
You look up at him. Eyes piercing into his. He looks taken off guard. He’s shocked. Is this your admission? To tell him you feel the same as him?
Could Keegan really leave the military to be with you?
“They’re probably going to send me home within the next couple of days.” You mumble. “Think about it.” You smile. He nods his head.
So that’s what he does. He finds out they’re sending you back home within the week and he has no choice but to go on a couple missions. He realizes that without you around, they’re no longer meaningful. They no longer make him feel like the good guy, like the hero he’d always dreamt of being. The entire time, he just misses you.
Keegan a huge choice to make.
—
He’s standing outside your door. It’s been a few days since he last saw you and the longer you go without seeing him, the more it seems to hurt. It seems as if he’s already made up his mind. You know that it’s not fair for you to ask him to give up his career. Something he’d spent so much time working on. He worked so hard to be where he is now. You’d understand why he’d let you go. That doesn’t mean it’d hurt any less.
But he knocks at your door and when you open it, he mumbles a ‘fuck it’ under his breath and before you have time to react, his lips are on yours. He’s pushing you back, kicking your door closed behind him. He doesn’t even bother to lock it. He keeps his lips on yours and he kisses you like you’ll disintegrate in his arms right there. He pushes you back onto your bed and doesn’t say a word. Not a single word as he lowers himself to kneel by the edge of the bed, pulling you closer by your thighs and undressing you.
You don’t make a move to stop him, so he keeps going. When he sees you for the first time. Without any bottoms on and your shirt pushed up over your breasts. He can see the anxiety in your eyes.
He wraps his arms around your thighs and holds tight, pinning your hips to the bed. He needs you still. “You trust me?” He looks up at you. His eyes piercing right through you. You skeptically nod your head, swallowing hard. As he starts to lean in, you tilt your head back and clutch the sheets. Nerves settling into your lower stomach.
When you feel him tongue your clit, you tense up. A gasp leaving your lips. The first time anyone has ever touched you like this.
You take in a sharp breath and he nudges your clit with his nose, gliding his tongue up your opening. You suck in another jagged breath, panting almost. “Keegan-“
“Relax. If you don’t relax you’re going to overwhelm yourself, dove.” He mumbles, adjusting the way he’s sitting, he starts in more intense than before. Flicking his tongue over your clit and circling it, keeping the pressure on you. “Here.” He reaches up his hands, letting go of your thighs. He’ll just have to let you close your thighs around his head. It doesn’t sound so bad to him. He entwines his fingers in yours and gives you something to squeeze as he works you up. “Deep breaths baby. Breathe in and breathe out. Go on.” When your chest rises and falls with jagged breaths, he knows he’s good to keep going.
He lowers his face back into you, nose nudging your clit as he swipes his tongue up your entrance, sucking against your clit and hearing you desperately try to contain your cries. Only when you’re on the verge of tears does he let up just a little bit. You’re squirming hard underneath him, trying to wiggle away from his assault but he’s not letting you. “Taste so fucking good baby.” He sounds completely pussy-drunk. Eyes watery, face flushed red. He’s breathing hard, about to go feral over your body. He devours you, relishing in the taste of you. The sweet bitterness. He laps at your clit and entrance until you’re crying, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close.
You imagine he’ll pull away but instead, he pushes a finger past your folds. A gasp leaves your lips as it penetrates you, the first thing to surpass the expanse of your untouched hole. You shake when you cum, the foreign feeling of his finger inside of you pushes you over the edge. A tinge of pleasure you hadn’t ever felt before. You soak his finger, the squelch of your pussy gets louder the faster he pumps the finger. His own moans of pleasure from the sweet taste of you, he can barely contain. You’re flinching away from his touch, pushing him back and squirming out of his grasp. Looking at him like he’d just reached inside of you and touched your soul. Your doe eyes are wide as you look upon him, still covering yourself as an attempt at modesty. He can’t help but laugh at how pure you are. Despite where he’d just had his tongue. “You alright dove? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He gives a cocky grin, knowing what he’s just done to you. Knowing that there’s more to come.
You swallow hard. Nodding your head. But you’re far from alright. What he’d just given you, the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to replicate it. Your innocent mind doesn’t know, not yet.
“Come here sweetheart.” He grasps your ankle again, yanking you down to the middle of the bed. “How do you feel?” He asks. You chew on your lip nervously. “Good.” You breathe. You think this is where you’ll do it. You know not much about sex, but enough to know this is where you’d want it most. With someone like Keegan who has shown you nothing but support and kindness. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks. You shake your head. Whatever that was, you want to feel it again. And again. Until your soul is rubbed raw, until nothing but numbness and pleasure remain. “I think I’m ready now.” You look up at him. “Are you sure?” You nod your head. Moving your hips up to the edge of the bed where he stands. He chews nervously on his lip, his mind races. You can’t take this back, but you know this already. He’s gotten every answer out of you that he’s going to get. Until he’s buried inside of you.
He reaches for his cargo pants. Fingers struggling with the buttons, he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him.
Or maybe he does.
Because Keegan has been with a few women. But none of them had ever been like you.
You’re a different kind of girl. One who carries no judgement when it comes to him. One who despite having a bad day, will always greet him with a smile. The one who will jump in front of him and take a literal bullet for him. Maybe that’s why he struggles. Maybe it’s why he’s so nervous. You’re not a bitter high school girlfriend, or some random girl he met at a bar. You’re Y/N. And you mean so much more to him than he ever thought you would. His heart pounds in his chest as he lowers the waistband of his now unzipped jeans. Revealing himself to you, seeing the way your eyes widen slightly at the size of him. Wondering how your body will take him. He reassures you, kissing along your chest and collarbone. You’re ready for him.
He glides the tip of his cock over your entrance. Still wet with your orgasm and his saliva. You stare up into his eyes as he braces himself, pushing past the barrier between you and him. You cry out again, as he penetrates you once more. This time being more important, more meaningful than before. This isn’t just his hand, this is him. This is pure, raw, unfiltered Keegan. And he’s just taken your virginity.
He clamps a hand over your mouth in an attempt to conceal your cries. Your eyes are shut and you have one small tear gather at your tear duct. He kisses it away, giving you more than enough time to adjust to him. When he notices the bit of blood, he can’t imagine what you’ve just gone through. He knows the first time isn’t always the most pleasant experience for women, but he knows he’ll take his time with you and make it as painless as possible. He kisses you as he starts to draw his hips back, making an attempt at distracting you. He moves slow, back and forth.
Back and forth.
He can feel you start to relax. You’re breathing easier and your legs aren’t as tense. You’re starting to feel the pleasure from him. It’s when you know you’re in trouble. You know this is going to be far more intense than what he’s just done to you. He starts to pick up the pace when he knows you’re ready for it. His thrusts are deep and quick, tip nudging right into your sweet spot. He knows right where to make you fall apart beneath him. You lift your head up for a second, looking down between the both of you. Seeing him enter you, it’s mesmerizing. Your body is taking so much, you’ve pushed yourself so far tonight. You don’t regret it. You don’t think you ever will.
Your glossy eyes look up at him, admiring him. You don’t get to see him without his mask on very often. And you’ve never been this close to him with it off. His hair is messy. Flat in some spots because he’s sweaty. He’s got beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He’s worked himself up. You admire him as he works his hips into yours. His jawline, the stubble that lines his face. His stone gray eyes with tinges of blue in them. You think about earlier, when they’re were stone cold. Darker than you’d ever seen them. It’s how they got when he was angry. You remember what they look like full of fear too. Watery and bright blue like a lagoon. It’s comical that someone so battle hardened could be so beautiful at the same time. Everything about Keegan was stunning and pure.
He lowers his thumb to your clit and that’s what pulls you out of the trance you’re in.
You hiccup from the pleasure, holding back your cries. “You’re so beautiful like this.” He gushes. Shaking his head in disbelief that someone like you could like someone as damaged and broken as him.
Your thighs start to shake. You’re getting close and he can tell. His cock is wet from you, your arousal gathering at the base of his cock. Letting him know how good you’re feeling. It’s what he wants, what he’s dreamt of. “You can cum. Give yourself to me, dove.” Your eyebrows furrow together. The warmth spreads through your abdomen. There’s a knot in your lower stomach, each thrust he takes unravels it further and further. “Keegan?” You mewl.
“Yeah dove?”
“I love you.” You cry. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. In the midst of your high, you wrap your legs around Keegan’s waist. His eyes widen, because he’s about to cum too. He tries to push them away, but it’s no use.
He trembles when he cums, whining out as he draws his hips away from yours, burying himself into you one last time. He collapses on top of you, head resting on your chest. He’s sweaty and hot. But you wouldn’t trade Keegan for anything.
It takes a few minutes for the both of you to come down from your highs. His mind is racing from what you had said to him. How it had sent him right into the most intense orgasm he’s ever felt. He swallows hard, lifting himself away from you. “Y/N?” He looks at you, you draw your eyes away from wherever they were before to look at him, pulling yourself out of your daydream. When he knows he’s got your full attention, he follows through with it.
“I love you too.” You smile up at him. It’s a lazy smile and he knows you’re exhausted.
“Let’s get some sleep. We can talk in the morning, dove.” He breathes. Pulling the metal line on the lamp and shutting it off.
You know you won’t sleep good. Not after this. But it gives your mind time to settle.
As Keegan lies there in the dark. No longer alone but your warmth next to him. He realizes he’s got his mind made up.
Coddling Keegan while giving him a handjob😖😖he’s cuddled up to you, head buried in your neck while your hand pumps his cock slow nd sloppy, whines a little when you pay attention to his tip, rubbing it with your thumb, “feels good, baby? Hm?” While ruffling his hair❤️❤️
…in which a very tired keegan gets special treatment.
FEATURING: keegan p russ (duh)
WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. mild overstim. mentions of crying. whoopsie
NOTE/S: hi anon hope u know i read this and my stomach clenched up. sorry just thought u should be aware
“Feel good?” Your voice is just a soft murmur, sickeningly sweet and practically dripping in endearment. “Is that good, Kee?”
The only response you get is a breathy half-groan.
Poor Keegan. Genuinely. He’d come back from what he dubbed a shit mission this past afternoon; nothing too risky. Just a job that the “regular” recruits hit a wall with. A job that he had to go finish, because apparently the general force couldn’t get the fucking thing done.
His next assignment? Tomorrow afternoon. Approximately twelve hours from now, he’d be out again.
The poor guy was fucking exhausted. Hell, he’d called you that morning from the bed of the truck, and…you know why he had to go, you know that it’s his job and all, but…Christ, he’d sounded so tired. Tired and strained and done. Every nerve in your body had been screaming at you to fawn over him the minute he got home; a warm bath, a hot mug of tea (black). Some soup, bowl steaming. Hell, you’d been wringing your hands together at the mere thought of washing his hair. It had become a regular practice at this point; whenever he came back from an assignment, you’d be there to give him a soft landing upon arriving home.
This time around, you didn’t have the time for that. Despite his arguments, you’d probably have a word with whatever shit-for-brains commander had been in charge of putting him on back-to-back assignments.
To focus on the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Keegan had told you he didn’t want all of the fancy stuff; tea, sure. Soup, sure. The bath and everything? No, he’d just shower.
He wanted a hot mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and then he wanted you to make him feel better in the best way you knew how.
Hence; your current position.
You hadn’t even made it to the bed. Keegan hadn’t even finished his fucking soup. He’d been staring into it like a ghost; gaze vacant, face empty, eyeblack staining his skin charcoal-gray. Hell, the man had just thrown whatever clothes he could find on; just a plain white tee and sweats. For once, he hasn’t been careful with his gear; he’s got it slung haphazardly across the chair beside him. His fucking rifle is sitting on the thing like it’s also eating soup.
He didn’t have to say much. He just kind of shifted and looked you in the eye; sat back, opened his legs a little wider.
Upon swinging a leg over him and sitting in his lap, Keegan had all but deflated.
He’d smelled like soap. Kind of tasted like it, too. Either he had scrubbed off a layer of skin in the shower or he’d just neglected to fully rinse all of the shampoo out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t mind; the fact that he smelled vaguely of vanilla (because for some reason he continued to take your shampoo and not use his own) and he was just slumped back in the chair, weakly holding onto your head as you littered a trail of little marks along his throat…
…oh, sweet boy.
He thought the pet name was stupid. Usually. He’d laugh at you if you called him by it in most situations; the day he’d apparently decided it was safe enough to kiss you goodbye before he boarded the plane to head out on an assignment, you’d called him a sweet boy and Keegan, fully geared up in his vest and helmet with probably five different weapons strapped on around his waist, had just whistled and hummed in response.
Sweet boy, carrying a rifle and a knife and god-fucking-knows-what-else.
Now, though, he doesn’t complain. Either because he’s too tired to or because, right now, even he knows that it’s fitting. Big, beefy soldier, pretty blue eyes rolled back, pretty pink lips parted and pretty little mouth too tired to fight the quiet little noises that would normally remain buried under his tongue. His brow knits, and his nostrils flare, and — oh — his chest rises and his breath hisses in through his nose.
A fat pearl of pre swells up on his tip for a moment before you run your thumb over it and spread it across the blunt round of his cockhead.
It’s not fair to him. Maybe. You’re going so slow and you’re just lazily stroking him but he doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, not at all. His brow knits and his mouth opens a little further; he lets out a short, hoarse breath, chest puffing up before it shudders back down and the muscles along his neck flex.
“Deep breaths, Kee.” You lean forward, kissing the side of his cheek and biting back a grin when his entire body shudders. “Easy.”
“Can’t?” You smile, body shuddering. “Aw. Sweet boy.”
Keegan tries to shoot you a glare. He tries. One squeeze of your hand closing over his cockhead has him tensing up again, head tipping back and jaw clenching up as he bites back another groan.
You don’t say anything. You could tease him more (hell, you’d be jumping at the chance any other time), but right now he’s almost pitiful. Sore, exhausted, run-down and on a tight deadline to head back out tomorrow.
The man deserves a break. He doesn’t deserve to be mocked. So you keep your mouth shut (at least, in regards to taunting him) and you tease your thumb over his slit in slow little circles.
Keegan’s body shudders. From somewhere deep in his chest, he groans, brow knitting and eyes squeezing shut. His hips buck up; his cock slides through your grasp, swollen and slick. He’s aching for release, aching for it; it’s like his self-control has been put out to float on a raft and is just drifting towards total euphoric collapse. His head lolls on his neck; he’s in a daze, exhaustion and pleasure mixing like a dreamy cocktail in his system.
“I’ll get a nice bath ready for you after this assignment. Sound good?” You grin as you swish your thumb over his tip and he stiffens, body wound tight and eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn’t give you a verbal response; he just groans, one of his hands pawing uselessly at your waist. His big hands, gloved hands, rough and callous…
The throaty auh Keegan lets out brings your head back into reality, just in time to see his jaw drop and his pretty lips form a pink O as his eyes squint and his lashes flutter. His cock jerks in your hands, and a dribble of thin pre runs down the joints of your fingers. His hips buck up; under that thin layer of cotton, you feel his abdomen flex tight.
Apparently embarrassed at his own sound, Keegan turns his face towards you. Messily, he thrusts his lips at yours; when your body ripples and your hand flexes, he groans, low and tired into your mouth. His skin is hot; he’s flustered, but he’s too tired to do much about it.
“You gonna fall asleep on me after this?” You manage a quiet laugh. “No real rounds?”
Keegan groans. His voice, when it does manage to come out, is throaty and hoarse. There’s a sort of grumble in his voice, a sort of sleepy drawl that has your knees weak. “Shit, if you want…”
You giggle, biting your tongue when you skim the tips of your fingers over the ridge of his head and he tenses, teeth sinking into his lip. “I don’t think you can, Kee. I really don’t.”
“Shut it.” Though his tone is gruff, a tease of your finger over his leaking slit has Keegan’s head lolling back and his eyes, pretty pools of sapphire blue, roll back as his lashes flutter. “I’ll just lay there. You…nngh…you can just get on top an’…”
Keegan’s body shudders. His shoulders lift off the back of the chair; there’s a tremor deep in his belly that you can feel under your hand as he slumps back again, stomach rolling forward and hips rolling up. His abdomen clenches and sucks in so hard you can see the outline of his abs through his shirt, despite the loose fit.
Close.
You’ve learned his bodily cues by now. He tenses, starts to breathe hard — you can hear air rasping in and out of his nose — and, yeah, he paws around until he can grab onto your wrist, fingers wrapping around the spot right under your hand. He’s funny like that; you wouldn’t catch him dead pitying himself, telling you he was nothing but your little play-thing — but god, the quiver in his hand and the tremor in his breath is so, so far away from dominant. It’s so far away from being in control. If anything, he’s feeling your control; he’s feeling your pulse pick up as you shift on his lap, he’s feeling your arm tense as you bite your lip and stroke quicker, faster, twist your hand, and — oh — he’s gripping tight as you swipe your hand at just the right angle, pull it flush against the base of his cock and pump up and —
The strangled cry that comes out of Keegan’s mouth is strained and loosely contained. His jaw snaps shut, his lips seal; his hips buck up, and there’s a soft scuffle as his feet shove against the ground and his socks give him no traction to hold on.
You see the corded muscle of his neck swell at the same time that you feel a ribbon of something hot and sticky squirt up your forearm.
Five times. Five times, Keegan’s hips jerk up; his head turns either way, and his eyes squeeze shut for the first two jolts. They start to open; they flutter, roll back. Close again for the third. The same goes for the fourth. The fifth, though, his eyes open when his hips twitch, and when you try to meet his gaze you look into bottomless blue hues lidded and vague with euphoria.
The blunt edges of his nails dig into your wrist right under a streak of cum. The stuff strings your arm and webs beneath it, threatening to drip onto his thighs. Not that he’d mind, probably. Not now, at least. He’s too weak and tired to really care. Too busy groaning, sound contained deep in his chest, body rippling as pleasure tides over him. Over…and over…and over.
“Feel better?” You prompt the question in a soft voice after a long moment of silence for him to recover. Not that he had any performance issues — just tired, like this, pushed flat-out for too long…he has this worn, beaten look on his face. Barely lifted after everything.
“Yeah.” Despite that, Keegan’s response comes quick; breathless, but quick. His eyes shift over to meet yours, and Christ, if he looked tired before…
“Kee.” The note of pity that leaks into your voice is entirely instinctual. When you lean forward, his breathing staggers; he sort of half-laughs when you run your thumb over his three-fourths lidded eyes, weakly turning away from the contact. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Kee.” You repeat his name, more seriously this time. “Kee, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I’m not.” Keegan shakes his head; as if to prove his point, he shifts a little in his seat, pulling himself slightly more upright.
“You look like it. You look so tired.” You lean forward, this time; it’s an effort to push his hair back, and one that he leans away from. “Keegan. Let me take care of you.”
In response, he only laughs. It’s a tired laugh, one that rasps in his chest, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he replies, his tone isn’t serious. “You’ve got it on your hands.”
so sorry for my absence. my cod hyperfixation chilled the fuck out a little whoopsie anyways