#keegan russ x female reader

[luboy7rt]

What Animal Team Ghosts Would Randomly Bring Home To You (Headcanons)

(Remember This is just what I (My headcanons), enjoy reading!)(Could be seen as Platonic, Romantic?) (GN Reader) (Elias, Hesh, Logan, Keegan, Merrick, and Kick)

Elias Walker: 

-  Elias has.. habits. He brings home a lot of different animals throughout the years, Riley being the permanent house/military dog.

- Elias has definitely brought home any animal he thinks needs rescuing, one day it will be a cat, the next a little bird, then next a little mouse that needed saving from a mousetrap. You cannot stop this man, he has a mission in just rescuing animals as a unsuspecting side gig to being a literal military commander. (I like to think he's a animal lover, even if it's a ‘secret’)

- You point out a stray dog or cat? That's his now, (if the animal will allow it and wants to come with), Hesh and Logan have gotten used to their father bringing home random animals “...Can we even keep that, Dad?” Hesh would ask every time if it was a random animal that shouldn't be a pet. “Why Not.” Would be Elias's answer every. Damn. Time. 

- Elias would also ensure to tell you, Hesh, Logan, to not touch the more aggressive or ‘spicy’ animals he brings home, basically makes sure you all respect the animals and ensure the animals wouldn't hurt you three.

- If any of the animals he brings home are ‘unfit’ To be around kids (yes, he still calls Hesh and Logan kids, and maybe even you too if you have that type of relationship) he would find a good animal shelter, sanctuary or a good home for the animal.

- Why do Hesh and Riley have a good relationship? Elias taught Hesh how to train Riley, ensuring that Hesh would always know Riley has his back, having Riley around brought a sense of security to Elias as he felt like his boys could be cared for by Riley even if he wasn't around.

- Elias would give a deep chuckle with a half smile as he walks through the front door, spotting you as he carried a small bird in his hands, he would offer a hello, and show you the small baby bird he was now keeping due to finding it injured in the driveway. 

- Basically most people go to this man when they find a random animal, because somehow Elias is always good at knowing what animal, the species and what the hell is wrong If there is something wrong. Everytime Elias is asked about his knowledge, “Documentaries are nice, you should watch them. Maybe then you can learn something for once” He would respond by accidentally being brutal. 

- “Do you feel comfortable? Or should I find a better home for this little guy?” Elias Would ask you, Hesh, and Logan every time he brings home a new random animal, the house has become a farm at this point. You want an animal? As long as you know how to care for it and it wants to or can be around? fine by Elias, do your research and show him you can care for it, and he'll make it happen.

- Yes, you have random animals cuddling up to you in the middle of the night, is it one of the cats? Or could it be the tortoise that Elias has had for years? Or maybe it was just Riley, you'll be in for a surprise if you left your door open.

David Hesh Walker: 

- Hesh would bring home lizards, just imagine him coming home with a few baby lizards in his arms, Riley having one on his snout with wide eyes.. the dog was very steady in slowly creeping behind Hesh as to not drop the little lizard across his snout and head.

- “Oh, Hey..! didn't realize you were home” Hesh would sheepishly admit, as he adjusted the lizards in his arms, trying to get them to stop climbing everywhere. “...Surprise..? No welcome home..? Alright”

- If you don't like the lizards? He'll put them back outside, leave a little bowl of water incase they need it.. Poor Riley would waddle after Hesh, having lizards all over him, trying to walk but being so careful not to hurt any of them.. Riley ends up bringing the lizards in the house, Hesh laughing if you freak out.

- If you do like lizards? He'll put one on your shoulder or head, bonk. There you go, you got your own little guy.

- Your house gets taken over by lizards, Hesh doesn't find it funny after he found one in the washroom at 2AM the next morning, if you have a fear of lizards? Good luck, you scream? Hesh will come to save you, but Riley likes the damn lizards and keeps bringing them inside accidently and it becomes a big mess. Hesh apologizes about fifty times for it.

- “..This might be a little problem” Hesh would mutter as you smack or elbow his stomach, he would wince a bit and be grumbley he couldn't ‘tame’ wild lizards like his father could, awkwardly rubbing his hair as he would pat your shoulder and promise to deal with it.

- It took three weeks. Three weeks to get all the lizards out of the house, and Hesh only kept one bigger lizard, which he built a cage for and now cares for as it had a small injury.

- He gives a soft smile, and a tilt of the head, like a 'I did it' face, in the end, you both are relieved that the lizards are no longer all over your home.

Logan Walker: 

- Logan brought home a large frog, well like a large overweight bullfrog, No questions asked, No answers given as he just plopped it in front of you. Like a silent, I brought you this.

- If you like the bullfrog? You can keep it, Logan would buy a big enclosure for her, and silently look proud of his work, he would feed, care and love this frog like it's his damn firstborn. Even takes photos to send to you, Elias, and Hesh. ‘Look at my frog. ignore she's a bit big, we are working on it'. Texts little updates about this frog every week.

- If he can't care for it? He’ll expect you to, please care for this man’s frog. You don't have to pick it up if you don't want to but feed her for him when he's away if you are still around the house.

- Logan would randomly just plop the frog on you (if you don't mind), frog on your head, frog on your shoulder, frog in your hands, frog on your stomach.. He would just randomly plop her on you, and smile. 

- If you don't like the frog, he will give her to Elias for safe keeping, willing to just visit his frog but wanting to keep the peace between you two.

- Logan likes frogs, if he finds one interesting enough he will just catch it to show it off to you, a rare smile playing on his lips as he lets the frog poke their head out of his hand to show you. Like Logan is quietly and silently asking if you love the frog as much as he does. If you don't, that's alright, he'll find something else to randomly bring you as presents.. Logan always gently puts the frogs he catches back where he finds them.

- Frog catching was definitely a hobby, one Hesh got him into when they were young children. Hesh may have 'forgotten' about the competition about frog catching between them but Logan would never. 

- Logan actually tries to start this competition with you, who could catch the most frogs? If you don't want to? That's alright, he'll show off the frogs from a decent way away. If you do? Get prepared to get dirty, this is war, mud was on both of your clothes, as you two had looked for frogs for hours and who do you think would win?

Keegan Russ:

- Keegan isn’t scared of many things in life, so when he brings home a large snake? Wrapped around his neck like it wouldn't hurt him, as he causally walks into the apartment, a wild snake around his neck.. You might be a bit hesitant as it's about 3AM, and Keegan just got home.. with a random big snake.

- Keegan gives a head nod as he put the snake down on the couch.. Like it wouldn't just slither off around the apartment, Keegan puts his hands on his hips, and glances at you before glancing back at the snake. “I have a pet.”

- Yeah, that's all he said to you, do you like snakes? If you are chill with it, Keegan's chill, Keegan will buy a large enclosure for the big guy and ensure he's well fed. 

- If you don't like snakes..? Or are scared of them, Keegan will ensure the snake is kept in a large enclosure, and wouldn't take him out around you. But he does keep him, and nurses the snake up to full health again.

- Keegan would slowly get the snake used to his and your presence, feeding him well so there was no accidents, slowly getting the snake used to you both and making sure to do a tad bit of research about this species to ensure he doesn't fuck up.

- “Put this on” Keegan would say with a straight face and a quiet chuckle as he put the large snake around your neck, his hand not leaving but staying between you and the snake's head, and would tease you if you were scared.. but if you got to scared he would take the snake back and keep him away from you. Keegan wouldn't apologize but would make it up to you for scaring you.

- You always see Keegan with this snake, attempting to scare either Logan or Hesh, whoever was closest to him, maybe even put the snake in Kick's bed, having had ensured the other man had no weapons to hurt Keegan's beloved snake... But also giving Kick the scare of his life.

Merrick: 

- Merrick brings home a small baby squirrel, holding her in his gloved palm, as she was covered in dirty rainwater, and oil. Merrick had just returned from a long mission, still wearing his gear as he accidentally woke you up at around 4AM.

- He would apologize quietly as if trying to make up for the fact he woke you up and asks you to start a little bath in the sink for the little squirrel.

- Merrick was a bit quieter in the morning, as he sat by the kitchen sink, not even taking off his gear, you both would gently clean off this baby squirrel.

- If you don't want to keep her, Merrick would be alright with that, very understanding as he would end up bringing her to a vet for them to figure out what to do.

- If you do want to keep her, Merrick would nod and do his best to ensure the squirrel would be happy and cared for. Merrick would pat your shoulder or head as a thank you, and find a nice spot to put the little squirrel, ends up just making a small bed in an old shoe box.

- Merrick ends up training the squirrel to bring him any amount of dollar bills, Merrick would grin when the squirrel would pass him a five dollar bill and give her lots of headsets and snacks. Merrick would give You a smug I told you I could do it look.

- You two end up having this squirrel for a long while, oh you're cooking something? Watch out Ms.Squirrelly might run past and try to steal your ingredients, you want five minutes alone in the shower, Squirrelly is outside the shower waiting for you, you leave the groceries out? Guess who ate them already. 

- Ms. Squirrelly is very loved by all, even if she does steal money. She's a little thief, but Merrick adores her, and yes he keeps that money to buy you or Ms.Squirrelly a nice gift. 

Kick: 

- When Kick walks Into the house carrying a goat, what do you do when it screams bloody murder when she sees you? Kick was very straight faced as he looked at you, holding her up as if to show you nothing bad happened.

- Kick stole a goat. Who knows where he got the poor girl from, Kick wouldn't give You any details, he just walks into the house and puts the goat down in the kitchen, asking her to shut up as he put a plate of fruit in front of her.

- When you ask what the hell, or why he just shrugged as explains he found her alone while doing a test fly with a helicopter, claiming he just found her and took her home.. He basically just kidnapped a goat from who knows where.

- Kick and the goat don't even get along, she will follow him and you around, but the moment shes alone with Kick? she screams, she just makes the worse screeching noises around him, like he hates this man.. But she doesn't leave even if You give her the chance to. 

- Yeah, the goat vibes with you, but it seems like Kick and her just despise each other, like if one of them are in a room, and the other walks in? One of them will end up leaving.

- Kick regretted taking the goat in, he dislikes loud things.. and this goat is loud, she hates him, and she makes sure to ‘tell’ Kick. Kick will look at you with a straight face.. every time, it just makes it funnier.

- You don’t really have much of a choice, unless it is necessary this goat won’t leave, Kick has tried. She just randomly pops back up in the backyard and you both have to keep her. 

- The only time Kick and this goat get along is when Kick gives her food or ‘fights’ her, play fighting a goat, basically Kick has ran out of ideas but it makes the goat shut up for a while.

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

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

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

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

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

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

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

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

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

And this was entirely new to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stiff silence falls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If only Keegan could see you now.

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

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

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

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

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

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It rang a devastating bell.

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

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

The only love of your life. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your face gains heat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More than one-thousand miles.

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

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

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

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

—

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

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yelling is on the other side.

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

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

…Keegan?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...Sweetheart?”

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

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

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man forces a weak huff. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

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

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

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

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

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

[konigsblog]

plugs

keegan russ x afab!fem!reader ...

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.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod BF/GF Scenario

Bringing your boyfriend/girlfriend to Sephora (or a cosmetics store because of course my third world country doesn't have Sephora)

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Reader is described to be shorter than all Characters.

And yes I'm aware that some of these scenarios have the same characters because I thought they fit more than one.

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: Hii! Lia here, these past few weeks have been so freaking brutal on me lovelies but I wanted to write this to feed you guys <3 (Also, this is a 2.5k like special since I just reached it AHHHH)

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

Disclaimers/Warnings: None, OOC???, pure fluff haters be warned.

His arm is just perfect for swatches, lots of space, he lets out a deep chuckle whenever you take his muscular arm and compare the swatch side by side to your face to see if the color would match you. He fakes being annoyed but definitely doesn't mind that you drag him around, adorable dynamic between you being tiny dragging a big burly man around, in the lip product isle no less.

Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, König.

Is the sweet boyfriend who saw your eyes light up the moment you saw the store and offered you to go in, again doesn't mind if you use his arm for swatches. Looks at the products that they think will look good on you and sometimes picks up a thing or two for you to try and will definitely do that fist thing that guys do whispering a silent "yes!" of accomplishment (this thing), they're so proud of themselves when you like the item they picked out.

Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

Goes with you because they like seeing you all dolled up, will pay attention and know when you're using a product that you bought with them during the shopping trip even if that was a few weeks back. So pretty for them that it triggers their possessiveness just a bit.

Characters: John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Would tease you about liking these kinds of things but would silently admire you from your shared bed while you put skincare or makeup on, sometimes they use the skincare on themselves secretly and you'd just wonder why your skincare products are getting empty a lot quicker.

Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Doesn't want to be there but seeing you liking those things amuses them, will secretly buy something behind your back that they think would look so pretty on you and leave it on your vanity for you to find and will smirk if they find you using in a few days later.

Characters: Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, Keegan P. Russ, Makarov. (For my delulu Makarov lovers ( it's so OOC though ahaha)

[yawnderu]

Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (2/?)

cw: stalking, noncon. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment.

"Are you listening?" The man in front of you asks the moment your gaze starts to drift off for the third time since you arrived at the office.

"Sorry. What did you say?" The dark circles around your eyes make you resemble a raccoon more than a human, the memories of your friends dying and their blood splattered all around the pale wallpapers. Images of nature that were supposed to be remembered as calming do the exact opposite, forever engraved in your broken psyche.

"Do you remember anything about the suspect?" The detective's voice is calm, laced with nothing but pure understanding and compassion, a man too passionate about what he does— and the man you're about to lie to, delaying the investigation of your friend's death just to save your own ass.

"Nothing other than what I've told you, sir. Everything is just so..." The pregnant pause makes him fidget with the pen in his hand, grey eyes focused on the way you look away from him, eyes squinting as you try to recall memories from that night, memories that are so painful he can see it written all over your face, making him feel a pang of guilt.

"It's okay. Call me if you remember anything else, yeah?" His warm hand rests on your shoulder after you get up, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile that is only met with weary eyes, making your way out without saying anything. There's hesitation in your steps, your heart almost beating out of your chest the moment you stop walking and look over your shoulder, briefly meeting his curious gaze.

“He had brown eyes.” Mr. Smith doesn't waste any time on adding the information to his notes, only making the guilt spread all over your insides like black mold, taking over what used to be your soul— it's all his now.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment, yet what do you call seeing the man who killed your friends everywhere you go? He's been taking over your entire life no matter how much you try to push the memories away, no matter how much you try to forget it all happened, only serving as a constant reminder that you didn't do enough.

Dreams colliding with reality isn't something new, yet your nightmares are so realistic that it almost feels like you were there. Even while you were hidden away in a dark closet, you can see your friends struggling against the much bigger, armed man, innocent bodies butchered while they were alive, a mess of limbs spread all over the rented cabin, blank eyes always staring at you, watching you run away and leave them behind.

Were you losing your mind? It all seems so real, to the point you're not even convinced you only saw your best friend die. Are you sure you didn't peek the kitchen the moment you cowardly decided to escape? The kitchen was blocked by a wall, and yet.

Cold water splashes all over your face, feeling the softness of your palm rub the skin, trying to come back to reality, to remind yourself that it's impossible to have seen the other bodies. The crime scene report is repeated over and over like a mantra, serving as a permanent reminder that you weren't there. No, not when only a body was found in the living room.

The person looking back at you in the mirror is a far cry from who you used to be. The dark circles in your eyes resemble more a dead girl walking than a real, healthy body, and perhaps that's what you are. If it weren't for the constant feeling of crippling dread and the tears spilling down your cheeks like a broken dam, you could've fooled a mortician.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the vanity brings you back to reality from your trip to Self-Pity Land, slapping some more water on your sweaty face before deciding to take a peek at the screen.

1:38 PM.

From: Ali💗

Almost there.

It's enough to make you scurry around the room, applying enough makeup to not make your friend worry, knowing that she wanted to get you out of the house just to give you a worthy distraction.

For what seems like the first time in forever, the corners of your lips tilt up into a smile the moment your friend wraps her arms around you, holding you close despite the odd stares you're getting from the people in the diner.

“Hey, you.” Her cheerfulness was contagious, to the point that even if only for a second, you get a sense of normalcy. A sense of community, despite your own feelings about the entire situation.

Your friend can talk for two. Something that you never noticed until now, listening to her ramble about anything and everything for the past hour. In a way, it gave you the chance to dissociate in peace, the words mixing together to the point they barely made sense anymore, completely entering one ear and leaving the other.

“He's looking at you.” Alina says in a teasing whisper, nudging you with her elbow. You give her a confused glance until she looks between the man and you, giving you the look.

Your gaze connects with a pair of baby blue eyes, forcing a sharp pain to cut through your soul. His eyes look too familiar, resembling the pair you see every single day in your nightmares. His entire demeanor screams ''cocky bastard'', manspreading on the seat of the table across from you, his arm propped up on the backrest.

“Awful timing, but I have to go.” Alina says with a small frown, though it quickly changes to a little smug smirk the moment she realizes the man is still looking at you. If she even notices your pleading gaze, it goes completely ignored as she gets up from the booth, giving you a strong, goodbye hug— and the stare from the man makes it clear that it might be the last one.

“Get some.” She teases in a whisper, quickly making her way out of the diner after paying for your drinks. You feel the urge to empty your stomach, yet there's barely anything there, only the slow-growing sense of pure dread the longer you keep staring at each other. Even when you force yourself to look away, you can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye, almost able to tell he has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Leaving a halfway done drink behind, you make your way out of the diner, hoping that being out with more witnesses can save you. Is that really him? You barely got the chance to see his eyes yet you never saw his face, starting to doubt yourself the longer your tired feet drag you around the street. He could be an innocent man falling victim of your trauma, simply looking to get laid— you could probably use that, too, yet his icy stare and cocky grin is carved into your damaged mind.

“Need a ride?” A deep, gravely voice offers, nearly giving you a heart attack the moment your eyes meet his. Your hand goes up to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart even when he gives you a reassuring, charming smile.

“No, thank you.” Your tone is far too polite and kind, still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt despite the fight or flight screaming at you to flee— to get away from the man you're now convinced is the same masked man who murdered your friends.

“Get in the fucking car, princess.”

The charming smile he was shooting your way is gone within a second, his icy gaze piercing through your soul now that he knows you saw through his bullshit. Your gaze drifts down to the hand lifting a part of his shirt up, revealing part of his dark, happy trail— and his handgun.

There's hesitation in your steps as you walk to the passenger's seat, already feeling the smoothie you drank starting to crawl up your throat, almost making you throw it all up, yet you do your best to hold it in, shakily getting into his car.

“… My house's up ahead.” You purposely give him the wrong address, trying to protect your family and yourself from the deranged bastard. The ride is eerily quiet, almost making you even more nervous than if he was trying to make conversation with you. There's no music playing, no humming— nothing, other than his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and his calm breathing.

“We're here.” Maybe you're reading him wrong, but there's hints of teasing bleeding through his deep voice, his eyes shining with mirth when you step out of his truck, making your way to one of the houses. You reach the front door after what feels like minutes, your hand shaking as you think of what to do. You can hear the engine of his car still behind you, not driving away even when you told him that's your home.

I don't want anyone else to die because of me. If someone opens the door, would he murder them too? He has a gun, and the way he brutalized your friends makes it clear that he's not afraid to get his hands dirty no matter the weapon. His loud laugh makes every single muscle in your body tense up, hesitantly looking back at him, the pure amusement dancing all over his face doesn't ease your fears in the slightest.

“Come back, sweetheart. I'll take you home.” And he stays true to his word, driving back in silence, his warm hand resting on your bare thigh. You don't dare look at it, simply staring out of the window, feeling every single callus on his hand while the scenery gets more and more familiar. The black mold in your soul spreads by the second, threatening to rot you from the inside out, bubbling up into a disgusting brew as he stops in front of your house.

Your eyes briefly meet his, his pupils starting to dilate the same way they did when he was done brutalizing your friends; just like a predator who has never failed to catch his prey. You never gave him your address— in fact, you didn't say a single word since you got back into his truck, yet he still found his way to your house.

It's all starting to make sense. Despite assuming it's all a product of your paranoia, you've been catching hints of the masked man everywhere you go, blue eyes always staring right into your soul.

“Not gonna invite me over for some coffee?” Technically, it is a question, yet you both know saying no to him is not even on the table.

“Sure… I can make you a coffee.” Perhaps inviting a serial killer is not the brightest idea, yet what other options do you even have? He knows where you live and the places you frequent, you're not safe anywhere. His hand drifts down to the small of your back as you open the entrance door, hesitantly letting him back into the only safe space you had, willingly allowing him to invade your life.

“Atta girl.” What should feel like praise from an older man only serves as additional mental torture, the sound of the door closing behind you making all hope of surviving him fade away.

“Come sit on my lap.” He walks to the living room as if it's his own home, not even asking for directions, simply being able to navigate his way around like he's been here before— deep inside, you know he has. Your nose starts to sting as he sits down on the couch and forces you to straddle him, your thighs around his, allowing you to feel all the muscle.

“Don't cry…” He taunts, only now making you aware of the hot tears dripping down your cheeks, your lips trembling as he pushes you closer by the ass, pressing your clothed cunt against his hardening dick. His face is buried on he crook of your neck, loudly inhaling your scent as his starts to grind against you, calloused hands roaming all over your pretty body.

“Wanna feel my cock?” The vigorous head shake you give him is enough to make him laugh, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your neck and shoulders, not caring about leaving any marks. You can barely register the sound of his zipper coming down until he's guiding your hand to his warm, hardening dick.

You're too shaky to even do anything about it, disgust and nervousness turning into a dangerous mix, yet Keegan is a patient man. A patient man who gently makes your fingers wrap around his shaft, guiding your movements to jerk him off, getting even harder underneath your touch. Low grunts and muffled moans are spilled right into your ear, clearly getting off despite your very clear fear.

“You're doing so good, princess…” He murmurs. Keegan's free hand starts to sneak his way inside your shirt, slipping past your bra, his thumb brushing past your hardening nipple. Your brain is able to recognize that fight or flight aren't options anymore, so just like a wild animal trying to avoid a fight; you freeze.

Your shaky breaths mingle together, only interrupted by the low groans he lets out, his hand leaving yours for the first time, leaving you unsure of what to do. Despite the tears falling down your cheeks and the muffled whimpers, your hand keeps moving up and down his shaft, not wanting to die by his dirty, blood-tainted hands.

Keegan's mind isn't broken enough to not know it's wrong, yet it has been broken enough to the point he simply doesn't care. Thrown away by his brothers in arms and the marines, he doesn't have anything else to lose. No life purpose, other than to bring others the same pain he has suffered for years.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips as he moves your hand away from his cock, using his tip to move your underwear aside. His free hand goes to the back of your head, encouraging you to hide your pretty, tear-stained face on the crook of his neck, fully muffling your cries the moment he penetrates you. His dick is way too thick for his own good— stretching you open forcefully, despite the way he's actually going out of his way to make it as painless as possible.

“Shh, it's okay, kid. Just enjoy it.” He whispers into your ear, running a reassuring hand up and down your back, starting to move inside you, as if what he's doing could be even remotely enjoyable. A low, throaty moan makes its way out of his lips the moment he manages to bottom out, your body responding to the forced intrusion by getting you wet, not able to register that you don't want it.

Breaking you apart is the closest thing to religion he's ever gotten. Keegan's lips crash against yours as his hips start to thrust up faster and deeper, growing more desperate by the second despite how wrong he knows it is. He shouldn't be enjoying this, yet he's just a broken, terrible man, the little sobs leaving your lips only making him fuck into you harder.

The human body works in odd, awful ways. You don't want this, yet every single nerve inside your cunt is being stimulated by his long shaft, sending signals to your body that make it feel much better after you got wet. The small moan that gets ripped out from your throat makes him break away from the kiss, amusement written all over his face.

Keegan's forehead leans against yours as his hips rock against yours, his breath hot against your face. From this position, you're able to examine his face, taking note of as many details as possible in case he decides to let you leave, no matter how slim the chances are.

Thick, black eyebrows, buzzcut, dark scruff covering his pale cheeks. High cheekbones, light blue eyes, no visible scars or moles.

You repeat it inside your head like a mantra, trying to use it as a replacement to keep your head occupied from the knot starting to tense in your stomach, tightening up more and more with each thrust. You know for a fact you're hating this, yet your body is betraying you, coating his cock with slick.

He pulls out only to slam himself back in, dragging more pathetic moans out of your lips the moment he hits your spongy cervix. The stimulation is enough to make you hide your face on the warm crook of his neck, biting your thumb hard to muffle your own sounds the moment you start tightening up around him, finally giving in to the stimulation.

Your teeth sink deeper into your skin despite the small whiny moan escaping your lips the moment your forced orgasm hits, barely conscious enough to register the cocky laugh above you, feeling his lips connect against your temple, his breath hot on your skin as he manages to pull out, shooting ropes of thick cum all over your stomach.

“See? It wasn't that bad, was it, princess?” You collapse against him with a loud exhale, not able to hold it together anymore.

“Why…?” It's all you can ask, and you're not even sure about the reason you're asking why. Why did he kill your friends? Why did he let you live? Why is he stalking you? Why did he force himself on you? Why is he caressing your body like you're made of glass, as if he didn't just destroy you into thousands of shards?

“Because I'm not right in the head anymore.”

Taglist: @h0ney-mushroom @bangtandaze @elentiyaiswriting @lollycotton @sleepydang @billiousserpent As always, thank you so much @moosch for the amazing art!! 💗💗 world-building with her has been so fucking exciting and I'm happy to finally be writing about Slasher!Keegan after we've been talking about it for months!!<333

[tojisun]

he has to push down on your belly when he eats you out because of you’re squirming too much and thrashing hard against his hold. and when you finally managed to ground yourself enough to look at him, you’re blessed with the sight of him looking so amused at seeing you be subdued. he’s all crinkled eyes and flushed cheeks even when he presses his tongue flat along your folds, a low hum rumbling from the base of his throat.

— keegan p russ, aizawa shouta

[nova-amor]

thinking about men who read your romantic novels aloud to you, acting as your personal narrator. they’d impersonate the characters, twisting their tongues and enunciating each spoken word in the character’s faux accent. their pitch rising each time they read through the main female character’s perspective. they’d make a whole show of it, entertaining you with their perfomance while adding a few verbal annotations to the script. the only thing they’d ask for in return is for your warm mouth to be wrapped around their shaft while they read, your tongue rolling along the bumpy edges of the mushroom tip as you rest between their legs. they’d give your head a pet at the end of each chapter, an eyebrow raised as his cock twitched in your mouth, your pleading words for him to “read another chapter” reverberating around his cock.

[vampzzi]

ROOKIE DREAMS

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Keegan P. Russ x Female reader

cw; pussy slapping, threesome, squirting, how tf does the sandwich position work?, nipple play, Ghost and Keegan kiss like one time in this drabble, Keegan is extremely silent but Ghost is his translator (bros before hoes), slight hair pulling, degrading (slut was used once), creampie ++ double stuffed, 2 in 1 one hole, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, I will never follow the official cod plot

cross-posted on ao3

author's note; Keegan and Ghost OH MY GODDD, I NEED THEM BOTH BRO , grinding against my phone.

taglist (to be added just ask!) : @banana-gurl20-blog

When you asked to be trained by Ghost and Keegan, you didn’t think you’d be doing so much running.  The rain soaks your vest as you keep running through the mud and clutching on the rifler with a tight and strong gasp. You had slipped off a building not too long ago and that pain was starting to sit in and all your instincts could only tell you to keep going, don’t stop.

Well, short lived. Keegan or you’d assume it was him shot down and the bullet was to the right of you almost hitting you in the foot, eye widening in realization as he was catching up to you this caused you to take more power in your run. Lungs tight as it’s hard to breathe, it’s so chilly out here all of a sudden and you’re ready to tip over and pass out. 

And that’s exactly what you do, not paying attention to your surroundings as you tip over a stub in the muddy ground, going down as your rifle flies out of your hands and your body makes contact with the ground with a wet plop as you shutter and close your eyes. 

You feel something wet leaking down from your nose as you see the metallic and know it’s your own blood. Your nose is bleeding, hopefully not broken but bleeding. 

You can hear footsteps approaching you as you try to grab your rifle but Ghost pulls his foot on it. You can see his eyes, menacing and terrifying “Pathetic.” is how he says as you put your head down and pant as you’ve run about 6 or 9 miles away from them. Keegan is behind you, arms crossed as you feel embarrassed.

 “N..Not pathetic, you didn’t tell you guys would be actually fucking shooting at me” Keegans stays quiet and makes eye contact with Ghost “Extreme pressure, we need to know how will you are under those types of situations.” you cough and slowly raise your muddy body off the ground “I do better when I’m being told, so I can be more rational and make smarter choices.”. You hear his tongue click as you grab your rifle and stretch your aching joints “I’m gonna shower and sleep, before I actually pass out.” 

Tsking as you jog back to the base, Ghost and Keegan follow close behind you as you’re finally inside and you can go back to the comfort shared room that you have to share with Ghost and Keegan or sleep on the floor in Price’s room. Opening the door as the tall dudes follow behind you as you close the door and walk to the bathroom and slam the door as they turn their heads to look at the door.

The sounds of running water and you grumbling can be heard as they take their time taking their gear off and setting it somewhere. It’s late at night, extremely late, there’s a curfew for newbies like you but they thought they’d train but you’re useful, it’s just you’re useful when you have information. Ghost lays on the top bunk and Keegan is on the bottom, it’s also very self evident Keegan isn’t one for talking and Ghost fills in for his absence in his social skills. He hates being social himself but someone’s gotta be some kind of help.

Appearing out of the bedroom as you’re wearing a knitted sweater and some pants, Keegan's eyes are glued looking upward as you climb in the bunk bed with him and his body is warm as the room is silent, you only covering shuffling and soft breathing. Your eyes slowly close as you drift off to sleep as snores leave your mouth while Keegans looks at your sleeping figure in silence , his own body relaxing as he closes his eyes and goes to sleep. 

The sound of shuffling wakes you up as Keegan’s hand is pushed up against your mound, his cool hand against your warmest part as you want to move his hand but he seems to sleep peacefully. So, you decide it’s best to squirm and squirm until he softly opens his eyes and stares out and lets out a sleepy hmm. “Your hand is um near my pussy”  his hand pushes up against your mound even more as he cups it. “This?” he mutters as you nod and swallow. 

Hearing his breathing against your ear as he trails his hand up the crotch of your hands before stopping before looking at you, “May I?” you nod as he takes that and his hand is pulling down your pants as he dips his hand in your panties making contact with your wet pussy. As he runs his fingers through your soaked folds, your thighs shutter as a finger is dipped inside.  

He works his finger inside your cunt, curling and thrusting inside you while your cunt can only accept his finger and clench around it before another finger is added. He thrusts them at a slow pace and your juices are soaking your panties as you keep eye contact with his fingers as he works them inside you while you pull your eyes up from that scene and place your lips on his.

 You’re in a heated kiss together as he groans into the kiss before Ghost walks back in the room     and Keegan’s hand stiffens. “Really guys, it’s 2 fucking am. Holy hell” Ghost says before walking up to you both and taping Keegan to move over as he joins you two in the bed. Ghost takes the cover off you both and the cold air hits your bodies along with an  image of Keegan’s hand inside your panties on full display.  

“You should be vocal Kee, this is your perfect opportunity” Ghost is teasing at the anti-social dude as he works his finger inside you and eventually pushes your panties to the side and applies a slap to your pussy as you moan out and sigh out as he keeps thrusting his fingers inside you. Keegan is biting on his tongue “Feel good slut?” There’s a smirk on Ghost's face as you're nodding and whining from Keegan’s fingers invading and stretching you out. 

Ghost fingers are pushing your shirt up and ridding you of your bra as he pinches your nipples and twists it as you whine out while Keegan’s is basically finger banging your wet pussy as the mixed sensation has your vision glossy and blurred. “Pretty girl” Keegen says as you can’t register it from the state your body is in but Ghost does.  

The shorter male teases your clit, rolling the bundle of nerves while you let out a loud squeaky moan. Ghost chuckling while he’s cupping your breast and playing with them “She is pretty, isn’t she Keegan?” “Yeah..” being between the two males feels like a fever dream as you hiss out.

The coil tightens in your stomach as you’re whimpering and gripping at something while you shiver and shake. “G-gonna ccumm…” “cum, make a mess!” they both exclaim together while you shut your eyes and soak Keegan’s fingers while Ghost holds onto your waist while Keegan’s fingers are still working inside of you,, another finger is added as he keeps fucking into your over-senstive pussy.  “Too muchhh” you whine as he’s glued to the way your fingers eagerly take his fingers with ease as the second orgasm rocks through your body as you shut your eye and your body shakes aggressively.

 “Good girl…” Keegan says as you slowly open your eyes and calm your breathing down, Ghost changes the position as he’s face to face with Keegan, a few seconds pass by and Keegan and Ghost are kissing each other.

Keegan’s hands are rested on Ghost’s waist while they share a heated kiss, tongues fighting against each other as you get on your elbows and stare at them, before the kiss is broken and Keegan is on his back and Ghost is on top of you, sandwiching you between the two as you listen to their heavy breathing. “Are you sure you want this?” “Be 100% honest” Ghost adds on.

“I want this, I want both of you.” Ghost smirks and guides himself into your cunt while Keegans slides in as well. They’re both big and thick, two cocks inside your wet tight pussy you feel full too full as you whine out as you’re on your back as they give you a moment to adjust to the stretch. As a few minutes pass and the male with his mask on, taps your thigh “go right ahead..” Ghost holds your hips and drags his cock out before slamming back in and Keegan tries to match his energy, keeping the pace slow and calculated.

The feeling of both their cocks moving in and out of you at a fast pace while Ghost leans down and kisses you while he fucks into you and Keegen’s matching the pace as he gasps out from how tight you are. “S-so fucking t-tight…” Ghost lips on yours as Keegan’s hands are in your hair and he holds onto it while fucking into you. The pace is lost and they’re both thrusting at their own paces Keegan is trying to be slow but Ghost is absolutely going too fast and fucking deep into your pussy.

Keegan’s brings his hand down and rubs your clit while you get roughly fucked by both males, whining and whimpering along with the wet sound from your pusy echoes throughout the room and anyone who passes by would know exactly what’s going on. 

You’re trembling and rambling, words trying to come out as they ultimately fail. They’re going so fast you can’t feel your insides, not even knowing the orgasm you have when you squirt all over their cock.Your insides clench around their cocks as Keegan is the first one down as he pumps his load into you and Ghost soon follows the hot overflow of cumming filling you as cum drips out. 

You’re all heavy breathing and trying to catch your breath as you all stay put and then Keegan asks “So..are you on birth control or anything?” “Not this week..” he clicks his tongue and Ghost pulls out “Fuck.” “I’m just playing with you guys, I am” “Thank god” Keegan says as Ghost and you chuckle.

[ghostlythunderbird]

The Pack ~ The Letter

Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Anxiety/Panic attack, Ghost and Keegan are kinda mean for this one (Im sorry!), Konig being a big softie for Reader, Mostly Fluff for this one!

Words: 4,437 (Went a little too wild with this one!)

Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. So sorry for the long time to update, I'm currently recouping after my hand surgery so ill try and update when I can, it sucks trying to write with one hand XD.

Summary: After being introduced to your new pack, you are taken to your new home or 'Den' at this point. While the introduction part went almost seamlessly, your starting to figure out that these alphas might be a little hard to get along with.

The drive home was nothing less than silent; aside from König sitting in the back seat with you, the two other alphas were quiet. 'Maybe they are the strong silent type.' You had told yourself. While you wanted to ask anything about themselves, you had a strong feeling that you would be told to be quiet by these alphas.

Close to an hour later, the car had come to pull into a short driveway. Looking out the window, the house itself was decent from the outside. A standard brick suburban house, copied and pasted much like many others on both sides of the street. The red bricks and white paneling nearly blinded you as you stared at it. Before you could ponder more on the look of your new 'home' the door on your side opened, The Alpha known as Ghost stood there "Come on, out ya get."

Sliding out of the vehicle you were snatched up by König who gently guided you up the steps to the front door. "Don't worry about your stuff right now, Schatz. We will get it later." Without another word, the front door was finally opened.

Your new home was lackluster; if you googled a Bachelor pad, this would be the definition of one. While there was furniture, it didn't feel as homey as you had expected. The living room was bare other than the oversized L-shaped couch and T.V. stand it faced. Hell, these guys didn't even have a fucking coffee table, of all things. As you further overlooked the room, you noticed the bare white walls. No different colored paint, picture frames, or calendar was hung up.

Just an empty minimalistic house. Perfect for three military bachelors.

As you stepped through the front door, you nearly lost your breath after the mix of alphas scents. The overall musk almost sent you to your knees, through the overbearing scent hints of Cinnamon, Vanilla, Mint, Smoke, and Leather blended in almost perfectly.

 Minutes passed as you regained yourself before you looked back towards the door to find König waiting for you to continue. "Are you okay, Schatz?" His voice was soft as he began to approach you. While you knew his second gender and the horror stories your family had told you growing up, none seemed to fit his character. His sheer size alone would make anyone panic if he approached, but with him nervously clutching his hands to soothe his anxiety. It made him appear much less intimidating and rough around the edges, reminding you more of a large shelter dog being welcomed into a new house for the first time. He wanted you to accept his home, his den, as somewhere you would feel comfortable and safe. 

From Konig's point of view, None of this seemed real to him.

In two weeks, König went from a pack-less and omega-less Apex to not just having his own pack but an omega that he could protect and care for. Everything was a mirage that could disappear should he touch it. But seeing you here before him, nothing less of a goddess, made it much more believable. "If you two are going to have an emotional moment, at least move out of the fucking doorway so people can get into the damn house." Ghost growled out as he passed both of you. Keegan followed close behind, but unlike Ghost, he gave you a blank stare as he passed. 

Looking down towards you, König felt his anxiety rear its head. Your face had fallen and a sour tone began to line your once relaxing scent. as you watched the two alphas walk away from the door.

As wordlessly they came in, they disappeared up the stairs to their shared room. This brought König to sigh heavily as he looked down at you again. "Don't worry, Schatz. They will warm up to you……eventually" He wasn't sure if he was telling you this or trying to reassure himself at the pair's attitude that one eighty once they were back in their den.

He didn't want you to feel they despised your existence as soon as you entered their lives. "Why don't we get you settled? I'm sure you're ready to rest." With the Apex mentioning this, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "Definitely; it seems like we all need a fat nap."

Both you and König laughed before he led you up the stairs. Reaching the next floor, he showed you where the single bathroom was and his, Ghost, and Keegan's bedrooms, just in case. At the end of the hallway was the final room. "This was Ghost's room originally, but once we were accepted, we all decided to leave one room open for you. So that you have your own space away from us." Upon opening the room, you were presented with one of the most enormous beds you'd ever seen. Resting on top were bags on bags of not just new nesting material. This ranged from thick fluffy comforters to sleek silk sheets; however, they lacked color.

It was a swirl of black and white with an underlying mix of grey.

It rendered you motionless as you took in the sheer amount, had these alphas gone out and bought you a whole nest and a half of material? You had never heard of alphas going to these lengths to make an omega comfortable. As you looked toward the Apex in the doorway, the anxiety in his posture was evident.

His hands were drawn up to his chest, clutching pieces of his shirt into his hands. He was even slouched forward to lower his overall height to match yours, even with it being impossible without him going to his knees.

"Well, I uh.....I'll leave you to get settled. Just call for us if you need anything." Without another word, the Apex left, closing the door behind him.

With that, you turned back to look at the covered bed before finally moving to clear off the excessive amount of nesting material lumped together. What you thought was an easy 15-minute job turned into 45 simply because your omega was getting too far distracted by the number of gifts she was given.

'Soft and Secure. Alphas are perfect, bringing nice gifts for a nest. The perfect nest for Alpha's pups.' She yipped. You were startled back to reality, god you haven't even known these alphas for a whole day, and suddenly, your omega is presenting herself, begging to be bred by these practical strangers. 'Jesus, you need to focus' Shacking your head to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts, you attempted to finish your task.

Why would your omega be so enamored even after how the other two alphas seemed to want nothing to do with you?

Once all the material was put away for the time being, you had a yawn slip from your mouth. How long have you been up today? It was well over 14 hours at this point. Why not take a quick break. Deciding to rest, you had walked towards the sorted assortment of nesting materials before you settled on one of the larger and softer blankets. The void color overtook your view as you pulled it from its packaging.

'So soft,' You tiredly thought. After making it onto the bed and ensuring the blanket fully covers you, you finally lay down. Letting the bed hold the weight of your body.

It was quiet as you brought the blanket further up your chin. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of the ceiling fan. You hadn't realized how mentally exhausted you were from the entirety of not just today but the past few weeks. Each blink drew slower and slower until your vision went black, and your mind drifted to dreamless slumber.

~~~~~Flashback~~~~~

The sound of the T.V. did so little to drown out König's thoughts; König primarily spent the little time he had away from his rather dangerous occupation thinking about the 'What ifs' of his life. He was so caught in his thoughts he didn't realize Ghost had come back into the house, his hands full with mail. Most were bills, but one was large and thick compared to the rest.

Ghost placed all the envelopes on the counter before sorting them; the largest was addressed to König. From the Alpha Pack Selection Program. Something that the resident Apex had waited for close to 4 weeks for a response, one that hopefully bared good news. "König." His gruff voice echoed out.

Being pulled from his overreactive mind, the Apex leaned slightly to look at the other Alpha. The manilla folder being held transformed into a brightly lit target to the Austrian sprawled out on the couch.

The large man lunged off the couch, startling the smaller Alpha, who had just descended the stairs. "Jesus, König, a bit of a fucking warning." Keegan couldn't help but snarl after nearly getting run over by the Apex. It was rare for these sorts of incidents to happen in the house; the two alphas and the Apex were incredibly aware of where each was and their schedules. 

König was zeroed entirely in on the envelope in Ghost's hand, while he may have been eager to receive this letter. He couldn't help but fear their answer; after their last response, it would make seven rejections from the program. Each time was for the same reason "Due to your Apex representation, we regretfully have to decline your enrollment to our program." But it still didn't stop him from taking it and tore the envelope open. "well, come on mate, what does it say?" Ghost nudged his arm; the Apex hadn't realized that Ghost had even rounded the corner to stand beside him.

König took in a deep breath before releasing as he unfolded the papers to read the words printed onto the paper.

Dear Applicant,

It has come to our attention that you have sent multiple applications over the last few years. Each one followed with a swift rejection from our programs as your representation would cause an upset in both our application alphas who may be paired with you and in the omegas who could be assigned to your care.

While we appreciate the time and effort you have invested in becoming part of this program, we have concluded that we will no longer accept any future applications from you. However, with this harsh news, we will allow a new application with you, but you must have at least two other alphas willing to become paired with you in a pack. 

This envelope contains four applications for alphas willing to work and be assigned to a shared omega. These applications are only viable for 30 days; afterward, we will no longer accept any attempts to pair you. As well as, all previous information you provided will be deleted from our database.

~ The Alpha Pack Selection Program council 

The silence that surrounded the air of the Alphas was suffocating. Even with the tv playing in the background, it was drowned out by the tense atmosphere. König felt like he couldn't breathe; until a sob forced its way out, and air seemed to flood his lungs again. How was he supposed to find someone willing to pack with him? and within 30 days? No one wanted to be stuck with him, and he hardly knew any other Alphas outside his work. And those he did work with? Most were already packed or swore off mating altogether. 

This was it, his final chance to be accepted. With no potential pack-mates, he would lose his only chance of finding a mate and having pups. The world wanted him to live the rest of his life, never knowing the sweet touch of the omega for which he would lay down his life. To never know the feeling of pure happiness looking at a pup made from his omega and himself. A piece of him that he helped create.

Why? Why. Why. Why. WHY.

He hadn't realized that he was beginning to have a panic attack until Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulder. König could feel his body trembling, rolling off in waves, making his balance waver. "König, mate, you need to breathe," Ghost told him hushedly. Ghost and Keegan shared a look as the Apex slumped forward onto the counter, his head falling forward into his hands. 

Steadying his breathing, König straightened his back and pushed the papers away as they burned him. While his day may have been uneventful, he wished he had never opened the damn letter now. The crushing weight that bared on his shoulders now seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. Looking at the stack of papers, Ghost couldn't help but look at the pages that caused König to damn near crumble before them. 

The words spilled out before he made him sick. Why are they just now sending this? After all those years König spent trying to be accepted in this shitty program and getting rejected every time, they decide now to tell him what he needs to be accepted. Talk about hitting a man while he's down. Looking towards the dark-haired Alpha, leaning against the back of the couch, "Keegan, take a look at this fuckin' shit." While reading over the papers, the smaller Alpha couldn't believe the audacity of these fucking people. All this just because he was a slightly different second gender?

Casting a glance at the large Apex, who seemed to be on the verge of shutting down completely. While Keegan was a hardass, usually, he couldn't help but feel bad for his brother-in-arms. "So they are telling you to find a pack outside this program to be accepted? What a load of crap." His brain couldn't help but reel at the fact they were giving him only 30 days to figure this out; who could even help him now? He paused. Looking between Ghost and König, he knew what he was about to say would either be genius or he was about to be hit for. "What if Ghost and I pack with you?"

König and Ghost both wheeled around, both wearing surprised expressions. "The fuck are you on about? Did you hit your head on your last O.P.?" Ghost exclaimed as he stepped toward the smaller Alpha. "How are we the best options for a fuckin pack?" Keegan took a step backward as Ghost entered his space. 'Fuck, probably should have kept my mouth shut.'

Clearing his throat, "Think about it, Ghost, we're both unbonded alphas who know König the best; hell, we already live with him. And he needs a pack to be accepted. Why not throw us in and see where we go?" The air between them grew tense as the larger Alpha stared at him. "Right, and we're the best choices to take care of an omega; last I checked, neither of us have been around one." Ghost spoke through a tense jaw. As much as he was against being anywhere around an omega, he knew it was the best option between them.

König looked at them both. "A-are you guys sure? I know you guys aren't comfortable with this; I don't want you to force yourselves into this just because of me." The Apex was ecstatic to hear that they would try, but he knew he couldn't get his hopes up with this. There was still the possibility they would all be rejected. 

"If this gets you into that program, I will push for it as much as possible." Keegan calmly stated. The Apex looked towards Ghost, who still looked unsure, giving him a kicked puppy look.

The blonde Alpha signed before giving König a look. "Alright, we'll give it a go. But if they reject us, this Program business stops. Are we clear on that?" König nodded ecstatically while Keegan released a deep chuff. The emotions swept over the Apex so much he didn't realize he had dragged Ghost into a bear hug. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKIN MUPPET; Keegan, help me out ere'!"  

~~~~~~

After sending in the paperwork, they got their response two weeks later.

They were accepted.

König felt like he was about to pass out; everything was starting to work out. But it was only the beginning for the newly formed pack. Not only were they a pre-formed pack, but due to their extended military service, they were also notified that they could choose their omega. Hence the giant pile of files on the kitchen table.

It felt like they'd been at this for hours, passing the scent samples for each one to inhale. Each Alpha had the scent samples they liked, but when presented to the other two, it was met with a swift rejection and sometimes with a comment. While some omegas looked good on paper or had a decent scent, the Alphas couldn't agree.

"How about this one? She comes from a wealthy family in Italy, and it even says, 'She enjoys the finer things in life.'

"No, Keegan, It sounds like she'd be more of a glorified brat. Anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth is nothing but trouble for people in our job."

Or it's a same-answer vote.

"Yeah fuck this one; smells like a Hospital."

"I'm going to have to agree with Ghost on this one. It reminds me of when my mom used so much cleaner in the house when I was a kid."

They thought this would be the easiest part, but they were definitely over their heads. Ghost finally stood up in a rage. "We've been sitting here for fuckin HOURS, and not a single one we have agreed on. Most of them smell like shite too." The Alpha raised his hands and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. KKönig stood as well at the other Alpha's tone. "No one said the selection was easy, and there's only a few left. Let's get through them, and then we can take a break." The Apex pleaded.

That only seemed to rile up the exasperated Alpha more "How the hell are we going to find an omega at this point? We can't agree on a single one?" Both alphas stared at each other "HOW DO YOU KNOW? WE ARENT EVEN DONE!"  

Keegan watched as both alphas continued to argue; their conversation slowly was tuned out as he watched while resting his head in one hand. As much as he wanted to pipe up to aid König in calming Ghost down, He knew better than to get between these two during times like this. Before Keegan could intervene, a quick breeze of something sweet passed his nose, and the Alpha couldn't help but follow it back to the remaining folders. This scent was the best one he'd had all day, so he couldn't help but be curious.

It led him to a file towards the bottom that seemed much newer but was thinner than the other files in the stack. Once he opened it, the sweet scent was no longer teasing him. Taking the scent sample from the file, Keegan couldn't stop himself from pressing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

It felt like he became weightless for those seconds; how had he not noticed this one earlier? It reminded him of the smell of fresh rainfall, a sweet yet calming scent. His Alpha couldn't help but be drawn to whoever the smell belonged to; without a second thought, Keegan pulled back from the cloth to look at the pages in the folder. Whoever's file this was about was the smallest one he had seen from the entire stack.

The picture attached gave him a view of the person that caught his Alpha’s attention.

You were stunning; His Alpha yipped in delight. ‘Yes, yes! Pretty mate! Must mate, Must protect!’

However, something felt wrong in the picture. Looking closer, the smile that graced your features didn't seem to reach your eyes. Your eyes held sadness and hidden anger that could reveal itself should you choose to snap. As his eyes flickered across the pages, Keegan stored everything he could about you away.

Omega Profile

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 23

Sex: Female

Second Gender: Omega

Personality: N/A. Omega and Family declined to file the Omega Attribute survey.

The sickening sound of glass crack made Keegan snap his head upwards; the sight before him was far from good. Ghost and König stood only a few feet apart; the Apex and Alpha had their teeth bared and chests puffed up. Ghost was making his displeasure clear to the Apex while König was getting close to putting him back in his place among the three. It wasn't often it happened due to each other's work schedule, but when it did, someone was going to have their ego bruised, and some furniture might end up being broken.

“I highly recommend to watch what you say next, Simon.” The Apex spoke. His voice had dropped an octave; His Apex was close to taking over to deal with the Alpha. Ghost was silent before scoffing, moving to clean up his broken glass of bourbon. Keegan took this as his chance to break the tense air. “If you two are done with your pissing contest, I think I got one.” He slowly held up the small cloth between his index and middle fingers. As much as Keegan wanted to hoard the small cloth to himself, he needed to let at least his newfound packmates have a chance to decide if the omega was a good fit.

König was the only one who returned to the table to remove the cloth from Keegan’s hand. Lifting it towards his nose, he caught the scent almost immediately. It had him completely forgetting his altercation just minutes prior. “wow….I like this one; her scent is not overpowering and smells good. Simon, wanna try this one?” The Apex had turned back to the Alpha, who was leaning on the counter nursing a new glass of bourbon. The look in his eyes made Konig nervous; the Blonde Alpha was definitely over the whole experience, but seeing how both Keegan and König agreed on the scent patch, it seemed to be at least a contender.

Sighing, He set his drink on the counter before returning to the table. König slowly held the cloth towards him, but before he took it, he looked towards the two Alphas. “If this one smells like shite, I'm punching both of you.” Simon grumbled before snatching the small fabric. He stared at the cloth before finally giving in; as soon as the scent filled his nose, it was as if all the tension in his body had just melted away.

The other Alphas held their breath as they waited to see what the blonde alpha had to say. Simon looked at the pair as he set the cloth on the table near the open file. “Well, she doesn't smell bad. What's in her file?”

Keegan and König shared a look before handing Simon the file; It seemed they finally agreed on their potential omega.

~~~~~

The days counting down to them finally meeting you and bringing you home were absolutely hectic, to say the least. So many emotions filled the small townhouse as all three alphas cleaned and organized the house as best as they could, no omega should have a dirty home when they come home in the alpha's mind. Most were bouts of Anxiousness and Frustration, a vast majority were from the poor Apex who checked everything twice to make sure everything was perfect.

At the one-week mark Ghost and Keegan decided to move into the same room to make sure you have a space for yourself as you settled down. The move sparked from just the simple question "Where is our omega going to stay until she's warmed up to us?" To say it had the alphas taking multiple steps back was an understatement. Another thing that was brought up (By Ghost mind you) was what were you going to use should you decide to make a nest.

It may have not been something the Alphas were well versed in, but they at least made an effort. Cue the three alphas going out and buying almost two whole carts full of nesting material, plus the whole material selection boot camp.

"What about this one? It's big and it's super soft!" ~ König

"No no, She needs something that won't stick to her if she uses this for her heats. What about that silk sheet kinda stuff?" ~ Keegan

"Why not just get her some fucking blankets and pillows, This nesting shit can't be that complicated" ~ Ghost

It was definitely quite the scene watching these big alphas carry multiple bags worth of nesting material due to them being unsure what to get.

Once everything was settled, the day when they finally got to meet you arrived. The checking-in process was seamless, soon leading to the alphas being led to a smaller room waiting for the actual introduction. From what the receptionist had told them the Omegas family still needed to finalize paperwork, It had been the longest wait any of the alphas had ever done. But when the door finally opened to reveal the betas and you, time seemed to stand still.

They collectively decided they would die for you if it made you happy.

~~~~~

It had been a few hours since König had left your room. Call him paranoid, but no noise was coming from the door. Worried about you, he walked back to your door before knocking.

"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" Hearing no response, he slowly opened the door and was greeted by a dimly lit room. And there on the bed, you laid completely still on the massive bed, sound asleep.

Once you walked in through that door, all his fears and worries seemed to implode and no longer existed. You were more than everything he could have dreamed of; how you weren't already paired was beyond him. You entangled him. Everything about you was beautiful, from your hair and eyes to your body. It wasn't until he had heard his name from downstairs that he was brought out of his trance.

He was casting you one last glance, taking in your sleeping form before turning to leave. König told himself he would make this work. Because now that he had you, He wasn't ever going to let you go.

Tag List: @silentmel, @thisperspective, @thebestgirlever2, @ghostalina, @pascallllllll1, @jujitsuito2069, @hypernovaxx, @frazie99, @v1naco, @littlezarp, @thatoneautor0123, @credince--writes, @4ndjelij4, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @random0lover, @wintersnnowie, @operatorinvestigatesco, @marytvirgin, @nightriver99, @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @quietlyignoringyou

[l0v3tast3]

SOMETHING LIKE A DEATH KISS | KEEGAN RUSS

keegan saves you from certain death in an active warzone. after some time of being stuck in the same safehouse, he helps you let down your guard.

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, fem!reader, keegan's kinda icky in this, he calls you "kid" among other pet names, unprotected s3x, dirty talk, this is pure smut, loss of virginity

✎ word count: 1.7k words (not proofread)

✎ author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for quite a bit lol i don't think it's my best work but i wanted to write something for keegan cuz edits of him took over my fyp for awhile (///￣ ￣///)

masterlist

"don't run."

keegan's impressed with you. just a few hours ago, you were so twitchy, eyes flitting every which way and muscles endlessly tensed. the gunfire he'd saved you from had you on constant high alert for days in the safehouse you were both holed up in.

now, you couldn't care less about your surroundings. not when he's sinking his cock into you centimeter by centimeter. the stretch stings, your body and your instincts clashing in wanting to buck your hips into his and wanting to squirm further up the bed. the hour that keegan spent working his tongue against your clit still wasn't enough, apparently.

"c'mon kid, you can take it," he breathes, right into your neck before he sinks his teeth in.

keegan's canines make you whimper and turn your head away, but it helps to distract you from the burning. you really didn't think his dick would fit in you- he told you not to worry about that.

your hands being pinned against the spring mattress is disguised as sweet as he intertwines his coarse fingers with yours. you know he's holding you down with that and his own weight over you to keep you from getting away. he knows you won't even try it, but he's just making sure.

"almost there, princess- doin' so good." more and more gravel grates in his voice the deeper he presses into you, while your voice gets whinier in a way he wants to hear so much more of.

your grip on his hands gets tighter when you realize that his dick isn't all the way in yet. you already feel so full, like your organs are being pushed to the sidelines to make more room for him. tears prick the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming feeling and keegan's lips spread into a bit of a grin when he sees them.

his hands were already getting harsh by the time you told him you'd never had sex. the hold he had on you had just gotten tighter, he'd kissed you rougher and promised that he would take such good care of you.

and he is, keegan would like to think, even when he pushes the last couple inches in much faster than the rest- he just can't help it when your little pussy is wrapping around him so tight and your breath is getting so shaky.

"ah-! kee-gan! haa- please-" you hiccup, brain matter practically melting out of your ears. the plea is a mix of wanting him to stay still and to start moving- you can't think well enough to figure out which option would overstimulate you more.

"aww- hah, see baby? told ya it would all fit- see, it's all here-" keegan's hand pulls yours down between your legs folded over his shoulders to press it down against your lower stomach. a cry pushes off of your tongue at the multiplied pressure. "fuck, gonna have to take you home with me, kid- this cunt was made for me."

the thought of keegan lifting your hips up and pressing his cock into you whenever he wants makes the little air you managed to get leave you lungs quick. if it means you get to feel this lava crawling through your veins again, you'd sit on his lap during the flight back home.

"yeah? hah, you want that? want me to take you with me? sweet girl- don't know what you're in for," he laughs. keegan's starting to creep his hips back, dragging his dick out of you until only the tip remained before he pushes back in a little bit faster.

"plea- mm, please- keegan, slo-w-" it's all you can do to choke out the bare minimum of your sentence when he's picking up the pace.

"what, you want me to slow down?" his patronizing tone is barely hidden. "you were doin' so well, where'd that go?"

keegan doesn't slow down but he stays at the same pace. there's some relief when he lets his hand up from your belly- he lets you regain control of the one hand and you use it to dig your nails into his forearm. you feel him cup the side of your face and he leans down until you're nose-to-nose. he looks smug.

"startin' to like it now, hm? y'just gotta listen to me, princess- i know just how to take care of you."

you know he's berating you for being nervous, but he is starting to become something you'll get addicted to. every time he bullies his cock back into you makes you believe him, believe that he knows what's best.

it's a losing battle trying to respond to him coherently. instead of wasting the little energy your body held onto, you tighten your legs around his waist and mash your lips against his. keegan groans into the sloppy kiss, hand moving to the back of your head to press you further into him.

he would swear that it's unintentional but his hips start smacking against yours, the sound evidence enough of how wet he'd made you. the hand still pinned against the bed is released in favor of grabbing your plush thigh. your knee is brought close to your face and you nearly wail.

"see? hah, what did i tell you?"

keegan's sighed words go straight over your head- he doesn't like that. he snakes his hand around and it grips your jaw, making your hazy eyes move to his.

sweat makes his face shine and his lips are cherry red; keegan's mussed hair and heavy gaze help to make him look almost as wrecked as you are. he leans over you until you can see the satisfaction of control in his eyes.

"what did i tell you?" he repeats. it's slower, demanding- enough to make you open your mouth against his hand.

as soon as you try to make a sound other than garbled moans and whines, keegan slams his hips into yours and keeps them there. the head of his cock grinds into your cervix and you choke on your air, nails drawing blood in his arms, eyes rolling back into your emptied head.

you feel the hand on your jaw jostle you a bit while he whispers patronizing sympathy, "hey, hey, stay with me kid," and "you can take me, princess, bein' such a good girl."

he keeps grinding deep into you, pressing your leg further into your chest- all your whimpers and strained pleas makes keegan's ego visibly inflate. it's something he knows he's already addicted to.

a spit out "fuck" leaves his mouth before he leans back up and effortlessly flips you over before you can even whine. it's no problem for keegan that you're body feels like it's made of jelly; you hips are hoisted up to meet his as he kneels behind you, already pushing his cock back into you.

it feels so different, like he's in your lungs now, your throat and your head. every bit of him invading every bit of you. you barely feel his hand drifting up your spine, until he reaches the back of your neck and pushes the side of your face into the mattress. when you strain your neck you can see his smile.

you cum in the span of the next few minutes, body shaking and back arching while keegan fucks you hard enough to push you up the mattress. he's groaning, muttering out more praises, how tight you are around him, how pretty you look like this, how he'll never get tired of this.

keegan slows down as the white-hot pleasure cools off inside of you. collapsing fully into the mattress, he huffs a laugh and pulls away, smacking your ass before he sits beside you against the headboard.

muscles slowly relax while you lay content- that is until about ten seconds later when keegan easily hoists you up onto his lap. once he has you situated, he lifts you up to line up the head of his cock again. he leans in close until his lips are brushing against yours. every time you try to close the tiny gap, he pulls his head back.

"ah-! you di- mmh- you didn't-?" you stutter as he pulls you down with one hand, the other wrapping around your back to press your chests together. fog still covered your brain, slow to clear; you're surprised when his stamina supersedes what you generally heard about men in the past.

he leans his head back as your hips meet again, a deep moan pulled from his chest. "shit, kid- so fuckin' tight still-" he grits out, already thrusting up into you. a whiny yelp escapes your lips before you're hanging onto his shoulders as he bounces you up and down, meeting you halfway every time.

sparks crackle in your stomach, your nerves still overly sensitive, and before you can even recover from the last orgasm you're about to cum again. he ignores your half-spoken question in favor of watching your tits bounce and groaning filthy words.

the last straw that breaks the flood in you is when he leans you back against his bent knees to fuck into you harder. you lose awareness of everything except him. keegan's keeping you grounded with his hands on you while he makes you feel so weightless, helpless against the pleasure he causes.

a growled "fuck-" is the only warning you get before keegan pulls you tight against him and buries his cock into you to grind into your cervix again. his hips stutter and his body goes taut while he chokes out moans in your ear. weak whimpers still come out of you every little bit, only serving to make his nails dig into your soft skin harder.

"fuck..." he repeats, a calm sigh this time. he lifts his head from your shoulder and takes your face in his hands. "fuck, baby, you're comin' home with me."

keegan kisses you and you kiss him back in agreement.

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ likes, comments n reblogs are always appreciated!!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

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

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

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

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

—Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

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

The camp is quiet, and you are tired. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His lips and how his skin looked when he smirked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAGS:

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

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Little brainrot.. Alejandro, Simon, Price or really any CoD man really, who has a partner that constantly gets overwhelmed/overstimulated by cuteness aggression that causes them to bite him and he lives for it. Cocky bastard finds it as an excuse to flex his muscles whenever you bite his arm.

Sometimes when it's surges of energy that you get rowdy with him but he's a patient man.. maybe not towards anyone but when it comes to you anyway. Zoomies?.. Zoomies!

Finds it absolutely amusing when you squeal and kick your feet up from the bed under the sheets in order to release some of the pent up energy. That soft sigh after gets him to chuckle, grabbing you and pulling you closer to him to rest both of your bodies, feeling the soft warmth of your skin and the movement of your breathing.

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam

Tw: mentions of abuse on the author's note, do not read if such topics make you feel uncomfortable or disturbed. This is not a vent but it is to spread awareness on a case.

A/n: Before you guys ask, I'll establish this, the reader is doing this consensually and they do not bite hard enough to actually hurt their partner, it's just playful like many people do in NORMAL and NON-ABUSIVE relationships, I do not wanna hear shit comparing them to Wilbur because in general this idea is cute, playful and domestic but that guy just ruined it for all of us but this isn't about him, GO SUPPORT SHELBY!! She deserves all the love she can get after going through the shit Wilbur put her through. This has been on for a long time now, no one should stop talking about it especially because everything he did was fucked up and has hurt someone in every way possible.

[daisies-daydreams]

Hey, long time no see 👀, hope you're doing good, I was just wondering can ya write reader x 141 konig, ale, rudy,keegan like reader and them pleasuring themselves, and suddenly reader's get a important call from parents or office etc in middle of, you know. And how do they react to it. (I believe ghost would pick and let the reader talk, while going into hard mode not giving chance to reader to talk)

No rush take your time,and thanks for your previous works, I missed your work btw....and hope you doing and fine

Pairing(s): 141, König, Alejandro, Rudy & Keegan x F!Reader

Category: Smut (18+) Warnings (where do I even begin?): Female Anatomy, Missionary, Mating Press, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Kitchen Sex, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Breeding Kink, Cockwarming, Edging, Spanking, Squirting, Creampies (You Know the Drill), Clit Play, Brat!Reader x Dom!König, Brat Taming, Pet names, Cursing, Dark Humor, Semi-Exhibitionism/Full Exhibitionism Word Count: 6k+

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you for your request! I’m doing well, thank you! 🥰 It’s been a while since I’ve written something, so it feels good to get back into it. I apologize if it gets repetitive (been a while since the creative juices have been freely flowing). Translations will be in these brackets [ ] I hope you enjoy!

Side Note: (M/N) = Mom's Name, (B/N) = Boss' Name, (S/N) = Sister's Name, (F/N) = Friend's Name.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

König

“K-König!” your voice rang out inside his room as his hips met with your ass. His hands smoothed over your lower back as he dragged his thick, veiny length along your gummy walls.

“Ja, liebling?” he mused above you as he slowly pumped his cock inside your juicy hole [Yes, dear?]. You moaned as you gripped and clawed at the bedsheets, his massive thighs rubbing against the back of yours as he kept your back arched and ass raised in the air. Your head was spinning as he refused to let up on your puffy cunt, your hole completely swollen from how long he’s been edging you with his fingers and stiff cock.

“P-Please, let me cum,” you begged him as tears of overstimulation slipped down your hot cheeks. He chuckled lowly behind you as he snapped his hips forward, his heavy, round balls bouncing against your drenched sex.

“Think you deserve to finally cum, hm, Sergeant?” König lilted before he leaned close to your ear. “Even after disrespecting my orders?” he added before slapping your ass. You cried out as the mark stung on your bum, his hand pressing down on it as he kept a steady pace. You turned your head to the side and wiggled your hips.

“Please, daddy, I promise not to do it again,” you pouted. König’s thrusts stuttered as he narrowed his icy blue eyes. He bared his teeth before suddenly pounding away inside of your pretty pussy, his large hands keeping you grounded as he stretched out your hole. You moaned loudly as the bed threatened to break beneath the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Yes, yes that’s a good kleiner Hase-ah, Scheiße,” your Colonel groaned as your pussy hugged his massive length [little rabbit; shit]. You drooled onto his sheets as you felt your muscles tense, each one begging for relief as the squelching of your sexes only grew louder and louder…only to be interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. You whimpered as König kept his brutal pace, his mouth quickly shaping into a sadistic grin.

“Answer it,” he ordered, grabbing the phone and pushing it next to your head. You blinked, lips parted in disbelief. He cocked a brow before slapping your ass again, causing you to lurch forward. “If you don’t, then I won’t let you cum,” the Colonel snarled as he slowly pulled part of his cock out. Your eyes widened as you hastily pressed the answer button, shoving the phone up to your ear.

“H-Hello?” you answered before a gasp left you as König began to pound his cock inside of you once again. Your other hand clenched around the bed sheets as you heard the person on the other side of the phone clear their throat.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s Horangi,” the man said. Your eyes grew into the size of dinner plates as a loud squelch ripped through the room. Your voice wavered as you blinked away the hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“H-Hi Horangi,” you whined as your Colonel reached around your stomach to pinch your clit. You could imagine the wide smirk on his face as he rutted into you.

“König’s supposed to be leading a debriefing right now. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, do you?” Horangi asked. You sputtered and choked as the bubble inside you was ready to burst.

“I-I don’t-” your throat tightened as you felt the head of his cock rub against your spongy g-spot.

“Everything alright?” Horangi asked. Your tongue threatened to roll out of your mouth as you panted like a dog in heat.

“Mhm,” you gasped as you squeezed your eyes shut. You screamed as König snapped his hips forward with one final, powerful thrust. His name was chanted from your lips as your vision turned white, your juices squirting onto his cock and your shivering thighs as you came violently. Your moans and cries continued as König gave a few more sloppy thrusts before growling and releasing rope after rope of his seed inside your cunny. You felt so dizzy as you caught your breath, body trembling with pure bliss as your jaw went slack. Your head fell limp onto his bed as König grabbed your phone.

“Sorry about the delay, Horangi. Tell the team I was straightening out a new recruit,” he explained, voice gravely and strained from his release.

“C-Copy,” Horangi said before quickly hanging up. König grinned as he slid your phone onto his nightstand. Your body felt so limp as he pulled out of you and quickly slid his clothes back on.

“Bleib hier – ich bin noch nicht fertig mit dir,” he rumbled [Stay here-I’m not done with you yet].

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

You were just trying to cook breakfast when you felt two strong hands on your waist and your boyfriend’s lips on your cheek.

“You know how dangerous it is when you wear my shirts in the morning,” Kyle husked into your ear as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. You blushed as he rolled the fabric up, revealing your sticky folds glistening beneath the kitchen lights. He raised his brows as he chuckled. “Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed. His hand reached over to turn off the stove before guiding you to the counter.

“B-But what about-”

“I’ve got my breakfast right here,” Kyle groaned as he pulled his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth watered as he positioned your hips just right for him to slip inside you. Your hands gripped the counter as you adjusted to the sudden fullness inside you.

“Like how fill you up, yeah lovie?” he groaned as he stuffed you down to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back as his hand wrapped around your waist, his two fingers pinching and rubbing your engorged bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you moaned, your walls fluttering around Kyle’s dick. You shuddered as his face fell onto your shoulder, his hot breath cascading down your neck as he started to rock his hips, his balls slapping against your folds. The groans that left his lips were downright feral as he claimed you against the counter.

“Wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum,” Kyle grunted, his other hand balanced on your hip as he railed into you. You whimpered at the sentiment, the thought of his cum leaking out of your stretched hole sending shivers down your spine. Your face well when your phone started to ring.

“K-Ky,” you whined as you glanced down at your phone.

“Mmm?” he groaned, his lips attached to your pulse. You tried to maintain a straight face as arousal leaked down your thighs.

“I-It’s my dad,” you bit your lip. Kyle looked up, his expression slightly annoyed.

“Can’t he wait, hun?” your boyfriend groaned as he pushed down on your clit. You winced as he massaged your tender button before shifting your gaze back to your phone.

“It’s about his surgery,” you replied. Before you knew it, Kyle’s other hand flew forward and clicked to answer the phone. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped.

“Hey pumpkin,” your father said on the other side. You gulped as Kyle shallowly pumped his cock into your soaked, pulsing heat. You cleared your throat, trying to push down a moan that threatened to burst from your lips.

“H-Hi dad,” you said as you gripped the counter, Kyle’s heavy balls caressing your puffy folds as he gave a gentle thrust.

“You alright, kiddo?” your father asked. You bit your lip as you felt the pressure of Kyle’s mouth sucking over your pulse.

“Y-Yeah! I-I’m sorry, but I have to go in a bit,” you strained as you felt your boyfriend’s cock massage your aching walls. Your father grunted.

“No worries, kiddo. Just wanted to let you know that the surgery went well. Should be a few days before they let me outta here,” he explained. You were glad the phone was still on the counter, as you would’ve dropped it when Kyle began to rock his hips at a faster pace, his cock sheathed down to the hilt with each thrust. You gasped and nodded, your knuckles paling as you desperately clung to the countertop.

“That’s great, dad,” you tried to say through a tense smile. Your father hummed.

“Well, I’ll let you go then since you have to leave,” he sighed. You bit your lip as Kyle’s fingers began to pinch and rub your clit, each stroke matching that of his cock slamming deep inside you.

“Okay, dad. Bye!” you swung your hand forward and pressed the hang up button just before you reached your peak. Kyle grunted as he stilled inside you, spilling his seed with a feral groan. Once both of you came down from your high, you turned your head and glared. Kyle’s smile faltered, though he still gave a small chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Least you know he’s alright,” he shrugged.

John Price

“That’s it, just relax your legs for me, sweetheart,” John murmured as his thick cock stroked your plush walls. Your breathing stuttered as you heard the unmistakable squelch with every push and pull of his thick member, his cum from the first two rounds creating a pearly white ring around your sexes. You keened as John kept your legs up, knees flush against your shoulders while he worked on pumping another load of fertile cum deep into your womb. His beard scratched the side of your cheek as he leaned down, his toned stomach brushing over your clit.

“You’ve been wanting a baby for a while, and it’s about damn time I gave you one,” he nearly growled. His feral tone sent you reeling as he snapped his hips forward. “Oh fuck, my sweet, sweet wife. Gonna look so pretty with my baby inside you,” John groaned. His words sent shivers down your spine, a small whine falling from your bitten lips. It’s true-you have been wanting a baby for some time now, but with John going on missions that were longer than normal, it was constantly postponed. That, and your mother wouldn’t stop nagging you about not giving her any grandbabies.

Before you could tell him how good his cock felt inside of you, your phone began to vibrate on the nightstand. John’s blissful expression shifted as he glanced over.

“It’s your mum,” he said, voice gruff and impatient.

Speak of the devil.

“J-Just let it go to voicemail,” you puffed. Your husband’s perturbed frown suddenly shifted into a wry smirk. You gasped when he pulled one of his hands away from your thigh and grabbed your phone. It felt like all of the color left your face when he hit “answer”.

“Oh, hello (M/N),” John said, his voice even and casual. Your brows furrowed as he grabbed your thigh again and rocked his hips forward, the phone perched between his cheek and shoulder.

“(Y/N)?” he glanced down at you and grinned. “Sure, I’ll put her on,” John smiled. “Uh-huh, you too,” he replied before sliding the phone to your ear. Your face felt red hot as he picked up the pace a little, your pussy spasming as you tried to focus.

“Hi honey!” your mother sang. You blinked and looked up at the ceiling, praying that she didn’t hear your bed creaking or the obviously lewd squelching of your lovemaking.

“H-Hi mom,” you said in a strained voice. Your mother paused.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re breathing pretty heavily,” the woman added. You tried to snap your lips shut as you closed your eyes, a strong thrust of John’s cock sending arousal bursting through your core.

“Y-Yeah, just…working out,” you said through nearly gritted teeth.

“Oh, I won’t keep you on for long, then,” she said. John growled lowly as he sucked a tender hickey against your pulse, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen cervix. “I was just wondering if you’d like to have a mother-daughter day this Saturday afternoon?” she asked with a twinkle of hope in her voice. You snapped your lips shut as a loud moan threatened to burst from your throat when John pressed his body flush against yours, grinding his abs on your clit once more.

“Sure, sounds great,” you seethed. Your mother hummed.

“Alright hon! Maybe we can talk about ways to convince that husband of yours to finally give me a grandbaby!” she chuckled. You and your husband exchanged glances as you bit your lip.

“Yeah, that sounds good-oh, shit!” you whined as you felt a stream of hot, sticky cum flood your sweetly fucked hole.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” your mother asked frantically. John’s face glowed with pure bliss as he stiffened above you, filling you with another load of his spend. You shivered and licked your lips.

“Just tripped-I’ll be fine, mom,” your voice wavered. There was a brief pause before your mother hummed again.

“Alrighty then. Let’s say 1 PM at Rookwood?” she asked. You nodded, your other hand desperately clawing at the sheets as John started to set a steady rhythm once more.

“Yepsoundsgreat! SorrymombutIreallyhavetogo!” you said before turning your face to the side and clumsily pushing the hang-up button with your nose. John rumbled above you before shoving his mouth down onto your plump tit. You screamed as he snapped his hips forward, your walls convulsing around his heavy length as he groaned and greedily sucked on your nipple. Your legs shook beneath his rough hands as he squeezed them tightly, his face one of pure bliss as your walls hugged his cock. Once your high faded, John glanced up at you with wide pupils. He licked his lips and sighed.

“Don’t think you’ll be needing to have that conversation with your mum,” he smirked.

Keegan P. Russ

“Doin’ so well warming my cock, baby,” Keegan muttered before gently kissing your temple. You whined as his hand moved down to paw at your ass, his other preoccupied with the paperwork set in front of him. “Just a little bit longer and I’ll give you what you want,” Keegan husked into your ear. Hot tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you bit your lip.

“B-But you said that thirty minutes ago,” you keened. He’s been keeping you on his lap for about an hour now. Seeing you come home exhausted from work, and him being knee-deep in his own, Keegan thought it would be good if you “took a break” and “helped him relax”. You gasped when he squeezed your ass, his fingers tugging at the supple flesh.

“I know, hun-but I mean it this time,” your lover said before pecking your cheek again. You tilted your head up as you held in another whine. After a few more minutes, Keegan sighed and wrote down a few things on one of the papers. “Thank God,” he muttered as he pushed the stack away from him with disgust. His dark eyes wandered back to you, his free hand coming up to stroke your back.

“You ready for me, baby?” he murmured. Your head shot up as you nodded violently. He chuckled and pressed his lips against yours. “Mmm,” he sighed as he tilted his head, capturing you in an even deeper kiss. It wasn’t long before you were bouncing on his cock, his hands gripping your delicious hips as he rutted into you. Both of your moans reverberated inside of the small home office as you were completely enraptured in each other’s pleasure.

“Mm fuck baby,” he slapped your ass, causing you to yelp and speed up a little. “Look so pretty when you’re bouncing on my cock like this,” Keegan said with a lazy, sideways grin. Just as you squeezed your eyes shut, your ringtone blasted through the air. You nearly jumped off of his lap to grab it, yet his grip kept you glued to his hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he rumbled. You blinked as you gazed between your phone and your lover.

“It’s for work-the report’s due tomorrow,” you frowned. “I can’t miss this,” you added. Keegan’s face was frozen in a pensive expression. Just when you thought he’d let you go, he kept one of his hands on your hip while the other reached over to the phone. You watched in horror as he answered it and put it on speaker.

“(Y/N)?” your coworker asked. You glared at your boyfriend before your breath hitched as he shoved your nipple into his mouth. You gripped onto his shirt as he licked and sucked on your sensitive breast.

“Y-Yes, I’m here,” you replied. Your coworker paid no mind to your shaky voice as they gave you an update on the reports expectations. You nodded along, your mind trying to swim through the fog of arousal as Keegan began to bounce you on his cock once more.

“Are you cooking something right now?” your coworker asked after a brief pause. Your eyes widened while Keegan gave a shit-eating smirk against your tit.

“Y-Yeah,” you threw your hand over your mouth as the head of his cock brushed against your g spot. Your coworker laughed.

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to it, then,” they chuckled. “Just make sure to have that done before tomorrow morning,” your coworker added.

“Mhm, you bet. Bye bye,” you replied. Thankfully your coworker was the one to hang up first. Before you could chew Keegan out, he pressed his lips against yours, the steady throbbing of his cock inside your pussy sending a few sparks flying through your core.

“You’re going to have to wait a bit to finish that report,” Keegan muttered.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

“Fuck, lovie,” Simon groaned as his hands gripped your waist. You were panting and moaning beneath him, legs spread far apart as he slammed his meaty cock deep inside your squelching cunt. You swallowed thickly as he gazed into your eyes, his stare half-lidded and full of lust. “Been thinkin’ about bein’ in this pussy for so fuckin’ long-fuck,” he grunted as your walls spasmed around his shaft. You whined at his confession, wondering if he pleasured himself while he was deployed. The thought made a wave of slick gush out of your cunt, soaking his plump balls.

“So fuckin’ perfect, grippin’ and huggin’ my cock,” Simon panted as he sped up, his hands moving to throw one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Sweat dripped down his face as he pounded away into you, the room filled with both of your grunts and moans as he brought you closer to your release.

“Simon,” you cooed as you threw your head back. He chuckled above you, face now lingering close to yours.

“Gonna cum, lovie?” he mused as one of his thumbs came down and applied pressure to your button. Your jaw went slack as a wave of arousal rippled through you.

“Y-Ye-” the sudden sound of your phone ringing made Simon slow down his movements. You glanced over, eyes widening when you saw it was your boss calling.

“(B/N),” you muttered, your heart sinking quickly. Simon’s nose brushed against your cheek. “Why don’t you go ahead and answer it?” he mused. Your chest grew tight as you shook your head.

“Simon, what the fuck?” you huffed. He simply tilted his head before glancing over.

“Answer it…or I’ll pull out,” he warned. Your heart dropped, not wanting to feel the emptiness inside your cunt. Not when you’re this close. You whimpered as you bit your lip, hands shaking as you answered the phone.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey (Y/N),” your boss replied. Your hand flew to cover your mouth as Simon suddenly pounded into you at full force. It took everything in you to suppress the moans and pants that wanted to break free from your throat. “Is now a bad time?” (B/N) asked. You looked up at Simon, his brows furrowed together as he slowly shook his head. You swallowed.

“N-No, now’s okay,” you replied. Your boss hummed.

“Great, because I wanted to go over what you should wear to the formal dinner tomorrow,” he explained. You could hear him lick his lips over the phone, causing you to suppress a scoff alongside your lewd noises. “How about that nice, little red dress you wore a few months ago? It really…accentuates your assets and I think it would really help us get the client on our side,” your boss said lowly. Simon tilted his head at your mildly disgusted expression. You glanced up at him, mouthing the word “nothing”.

“Sure, I can wear the red dress,” you said through a tense, uncomfortable smile. Your boyfriend scowled as he flared his nostrils, putting two-and-two together.

“That sounds-“ you gasped as Simon snatched your phone from you, not slowing down his brutal pace as he growled into the phone.

“You have no damn reason to tell her what to wear, you hear me?” he snarled. Your eyes widened as he snapped back at your boss. You heard your superior scoff on the other side.

“Who the hell is this?” your boss retorted. Simon smirked as he looked down at you, eyes glowing with lust and pride.

“I’m the man whose balls deep inside her pussy. A feeling you’ll unfortunately never get to experience-you miserable twat,” he spat. The other side of the phone was completely silent as Simon let the sounds of the bed creaking and your wet, sloppy pussy squelching fill the brief pause. Your mouth was open yet no sound came out as you watched in shock as he let your boss listen into your fuck session. “Now good day and sod off,” Simon finished before hanging up the phone with a firm nod. Your mind was reeling as your heart sped up.

“Simon,” you breathed. His eyes softened as he put your phone back on the nightstand and kissed your lips.

“It’s okay, love. You don’t have to work for that arsehole anymore,” he sighed as he rolled his hips against yours. Your hands flew up to grip his forearms as he traced your sweaty face with kisses.

“B-But my job…” you trailed off as your mind became more and more overwhelmed with pleasure. Your boyfriend’s eyes sparkled as he fondly cupped your chin.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about that,” Simon said. You tilted your head, his thrusts slowing down as he caressed his lips over yours.

“How would you like to move in with me?” he proposed.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

“Easy there, bonnie,” Johnny smirked as you raised and lowered yourself on his thick shaft. Your kids were at their grandparents tonight, leaving you and your husband with some much-needed alone time. A loud squeal flew from your mouth as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your thighs burned as they spread across his waist, your ass jiggling against his abs each time you came back down. Your lover hissed as your slick walls fluttered around his girthy shaft.

“Oh fuck, mo chridhe-you’re too good to me,” he groaned before slapping your ass [my heart]. You yelped and arched your back as he took hold of your ass, kneading your flesh in his rough palms. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his face completely fucked out; his pupils blown wide as he kept them glued to where your wet sexes joined. You whined as Johnny began to thrust up into your cunt, his thumbs pressed into the meat of your ass as his fingers spread to grip your hips.

“J-Johnny,” you whined as you rubbed your clit. Each tug of his cock along your walls made your head spin, the room blurring as pleasure pumped through your veins. He grunted behind you, his balls bouncing below your snug sex as he rolled his hips up.

“Come with me, bonnie,” he groaned. You gasped as you moved even faster, your hole stretched and soaked as Johnny’s cock twitched inside of you.

Your ringtone cut through the air like a knife. The two of you stopped as it continued to ring.

“You gonna get that?” Johnny chuckled. You scoffed and shook your head.

“Hell no,” you groaned as you grind your pussy down on his cock, desperate for your release. The second you heard Johnny pick up the phone, your entire world froze. He smirked as he held it up to his ear.

“Hello?” he answered in a sing-song voice. His brows perked up. “Oh, Mrs. Duncan! Always lovely to hear from ya,” Johnny hummed, giving you a small wink. Your nostrils flared as your pussy burned and ached for relief. “Uh-huh…actually, (Y/N)’s right here!” he beamed. He nodded slowly as he wore a shit-eating grin. “Of course! I’m sure she’d love to talk about the Parent Council bake sale,” Johnny smirked as you shook your head. You clenched your walls around his length, causing him to suppress a groan.

“Sure, here she is,” he grunted out before handing you the phone. You narrowed your eyes before bringing the phone up to your ear, quickly putting on a smile.

“Elsie! Such a pleasure to hear from you!” you chirped. Johnny snorted behind you, making you squeeze his cock again.

“Hi (Y/N)! Just calling to confirm that you’re bringing the snickerdoodles and sugar cookies to the bake sale next Wednesday?” she asked. You gasped as your husband rolled his hips, his cockhead pushing against your swollen cervix.

“Y-Yes!” you froze and cleared your throat. “I mean, yes, I’ll bring them to the bake sale. Two dozen each,” you said. You nearly yelped as Johnny started to thrust up into your sloppy cunt again, his arm snaking around and pressing down on your swollen clit.

“Great! I know they’re going to be a hit just like they were last year,” she hummed. You nodded, your free hand clenching into a fist as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“T-Thank you!” you said before nearly squealing as Johnny sat up, now taking full control of bouncing you in his lap. You prayed that she couldn’t hear the soft “plap” of your sexes or your husband groaning into your other ear. You heard Elsie clear her throat.

“Of course. Thank you again and see you next Wednesday,” she said. Your lungs burned as you tried to hold back a moan as he circled your clit even faster, his cock pulsing deep inside your wet walls.

“Y-Yep! See you!” you smiled tensely before quickly hanging up. You threw your phone at the end of the bed like it was a ticking time-bomb just as Johnny slammed you down on his hips for the last time. Your eyes rolled back as your pussy contracted and milked him dry, his cum painting your walls a creamy white as his lips curled against your neck.

“Making love to you will always be sweeter than your cookies, my dear,” Johnny said with a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched his arm playfully, making him laugh.

Alejandro Vargas

“That’s it, mi amor,” Alejandro encouraged, his dark eyes locked on you pushing two of your fingers inside of your messy cunt. A deep rumble reverberated in his chest as he watched you glide them in and out of your tight hole. “Keep spreading yourself wide open for me,” he grunted as he licked his lips, pushing you down on the bed as he unzipped his cargo pants. You whined as you curled your digits against your g-spot while he rubbed the tip of his member with his calloused thumb. Alejandro grunted as he pumped his cock, knowing how much both of you wanted it to be inside your plush walls.

“M-Mierda,” he moaned as his Adam’s apple bobbed [S-Shit]. The salty precum leaking from his tip threatened to drip over the fingers currently stuffing your cunt as the two of you lost yourselves in self-pleasure. Alejandro rested his forehead against yours, his breathing stuttering as he narrowly ground his cock against your clit.

“So beautiful when you’re all spread out like this,” he grunted, voice raspy and full of an insatiable hunger. A high-pitched whine fell from your mouth at his words, your mind reeling as you watched his cock twitch in his grasp. Your juices gushed as you pushed another digit deep inside your snatch. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the scent of your perfume and sweat. “Come on-cum with me, mi vida,” Alejandro panted as he positioned his burning cock right over your mound. His lips found yours just as your familiar ringtone blared in your ear. His blissful expression fell as it continued to ring.

Your lover’s eyes flicked over to the nightstand before he snatched your phone. His eyes glanced up as if saying a quick prayer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your fingers still plugged knuckle-deep inside of your cunt. Alejandro looked back at you.

“It’s (F/N),” he sighed. You frowned as you tried to take the phone from him, yet he pulled it away. “Mi amor,” Alejandro said as his brows knit together.

“Please? I know she talks a lot, but she said she had to call me about something important earlier,” you said, letting your digits slip out of your hole with a wet squelch. Alejandro glanced between you and the phone before he sat up on his knees, sighing as he handed it over to you.

“Gracias, Papi,” you said before answering your phone [Thank you, daddy].

“Thank GOD you picked up!” your best friend gaped. You chuckled quietly.

“Hi (F/N),” you answered. You gave your boyfriend a strange look as he spread your knees apart, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

“Oh my God (Y/N), I have to tell you about this sexologist I found!” she announced loudly. Your throat instantly grew tight as Alejandro slipped the head of his cock past your damp folds, its girth stretching open the rim of your entrance. You ran your hand over your face.

“(F/N)…is this the ‘important thing’ you were telling me you’d call about?” you exasperated as Alejandro slipped his cock inside, spreading your walls wide open with his throbbing dick. His face twisted with pleasure as he bottomed out inside of you, his balls resting against your puckering asshole.

“Yep! His name is…” her voice trailed off as Alejandro gently rocked his hips, his member pulsing inside of you as he fucked your tender hole, your slick bubbling around the seam where your sexes were joined. You puffed out a breath of air, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to concentrate.

“I could get you and Alejandro an appointment with him if you’d like!” (F/N) beamed. You glanced up at your boyfriend, the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body sending you closer to the edge of bliss.

“You know, I think we’re okay,” you said, winking at Alejandro when he opened his eyes and gave you a confused look. Your friend hummed.

“You sure?” she asked. Your lips snapped into a straight line when your lover pushed his hips down, grinding them over your swollen clit as he angled his cock to tenderly rub against your g-spot.

“Pretty sure!” you yelped with a strained voice.

“Suit yourself! Oh, I gotta go. See you for brunch on Sunday?” (F/N) asked. You arched your back as Alejandro grabbed your hips and started to thrust even deeper into your pussy, growling and groaning all the while.

“Yep! See you then!” you replied. You hung up before she said goodbye as Alejandro went full-force, pounding your pussy raw. Your eyes rolled back as you quickly came, your body already riled up from pleasuring yourself. You panted as your walls contracted around Alejandro’s cock, pulling a moan from him as his cum drenched your walls. You opened your mouth once your high subsided, only to be quieted by a passionate kiss. You melted in your lover’s gentle touch as he caressed your lips with his.

“¿Lista para la segunda ronda?” he purred [Are you ready for the second round?].

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

“R-Rudy, fuck,” you gasped as you stared at your love eating your pussy like a starved man. His eyes were glossy as he gazed into yours, his tongue lapping at your juicy slit.

“Mi vida-eres más dulce que la miel,” he whined before pressing his lips over your slick folds [My life-you are sweeter than honey]. Your hands flew to grasp at his short, dark hair as he sloppily made out with your cunt, his lips engorging over your mound as his tongue shallowly thrusted into your tight hole. His hands kneaded the supple flesh of your ass as he tugged your body forward, his dark eyelashes coated with tears as he moved his head back and forth. Your hips raised as you felt the muscles in your lower belly start to tense, your legs shaking as you hooked them over his upper back.

“Shit, Papi,” you whined as his thumb came up to slowly rub your tender clit. Rudy closed his eyes as he tongue-fucked you even faster. His hands squeezed your bum roughly as he opened his mouth, ready to drink your sweet nectar. A moan was ready to rip from your throat as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

RING. RING. RING.

Your eyes snapped open as your phone buzzed on the couch cushion next to you. Rudy whimpered as you shifted to look over. You sighed and threw your head back.

“Shit, it’s my sister,” you groaned. Your husband released his grip on your pussy with a slick “pop”.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, his brows furrowed together. Your phone continued to ring as you clenched and unclenched your hands.

“Yes-she wanted to let me know her pregnancy test results,” you bit your lip. Rudy’s lips twitched for a moment. In one swift motion he answered the phone and handed it to you with a gentle smile. You smiled at his sweet gesture as you brought it up to your ear.

“Hi (S/N)-” you gasped when you felt the soft, gummy texture of your husband’s tongue lick a bold stripe over your slit. Your eyes widened as you fumbled with your phone.

“Hey (Y/N)! I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?” your sister asked. Heat rose to your face as your love suddenly flattened his tongue over your clit, giving you the most sincere puppy-dog eyes of his life. You pushed down a moan as you shook your head.

“N-No. What’s up?” you asked, biting your bottom lip as Rudy puckered his lips around your engorged clit.

“Okay…so I got the test results, and…” your sister paused dramatically just as he shoved his entire wet muscle inside of your tight hole, moaning softly against your folds. You had a vice grip on your phone as you gazed up at the ceiling, knowing that if you looked into your love’s chocolate brown eyes that the cord inside you would surely snap.

“…you’re going to be an auntie!” (S/N) cheered. You gasped as Rudy rubbed your clit with the tip of his nose as he dragged his tongue along your walls, thankful that you had your sister’s news as a cover.

“That’s wonderful!” you said before clamping your hand over your mouth, the tip of your husband’s nose was replaced with the increasing pressure of his thumb. Your sister squealed excitedly on the other side of the phone.

“I know!” she exclaimed. There was a brief pause on the other side as someone else had a conversation with her. “Oops, sorry! Have to get back to work,” (S/N) said sheepishly. Just as you were about to say goodbye, you felt the cord finally snap into a million pieces. You bit the inside of your cheek as your legs shook around Rudy’s head, your cunt clenching as Rudy eagerly swallowed your juices.

“You’re good! S-See you later!” you said as your jaw tensed.

“See ya sis!” your sister said. Your legs continued to shake as you hung up, the balls of your feet pressed into his back as you rolled your hips forward. Your husband sighed happily before giving your folds a gentle kiss, his hands fanned over your thighs. The glare you gave him was damn near deadly-what he said next didn’t help, either.

“Deliciosa, como siempre,” he said with a mischievous smile [Delicious, as always].

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

@coldqueenuv @maybethatfanfictionwriter @notthatfanfictionwriter

[tojisun]

I would like to suggest Simon getting cucked. I wanna see Keegan knock my big beefy wife down a peg. ùwú

I WAS THINKING SO TOO!!

!! smut; mentioned daddy kink 🫨

thinking about simon seeing keegan and knowing instantly that he’s your type. thinking about simon making an arrangement for a threesome. thinking about simon teasing you, making you needy as the arranged date arrives.

thinking about simon underestimating keegan’s charms.

simon was expecting to at least be in control. that he would tell keegan how to fuck you; tell him your sweet spots and watch as keegan reduces you to a whining mess—all because of simon.

but what a joke those assumptions had turned out to be because the moment keegan saw you, saw the pretty little doll that simon’s been obsessed with the moment he laid his eyes on you, keegan turned into a beast.

the other man was all-consuming, devouring every inch of your flesh. you trembled and cried and screamed, back arched and throat exposed, your blunt nails scratching at keegan’s tanned back.

“keegan! kee- ah!”

your cries are wanton, mewls so adorable that it had simon gripping the hand rests of his seat because that’s what he’s been reduced to—a spectator, someone who exists beyond the bubble that keegan wrapped you up in.

you moan keegan’s name like you belong to him and that is what’s damning the most.

simon wants to make it stop. he wants to get in between you two and pull keegan from humping your tight cunt, but-

but.

simon’s cock is so, so fucking hard.

keegan looks up like he knows what got simon growling to himself, his sharp eyes tracing simon’s tensed arms, seeing the way his fists are balled to the point that they’ve been drained of blood, before flitting those addicting eyes to the obvious tent in simon’s jeans.

simon breathes in sharply when keegan’s pussy-drunk smile gains edge like he’s found a new plaything.

he watches as keegan bends towards you again, his kiss-swollen lips tracing the shell of your ear. you two exchange words, voices too soft for simon’s ears to pick up, but then you’re already shifting: head tipping backwards from where it was pillowed to meet simon’s eyes as best as you can.

he almost whimpers at seeing just how messy your face had become—makeup running, lips spit-slicked, eyes swollen from the onslaught of your pleasured tears.

“si?” your voice rings out like a gunshot. “please join us?”

simon goes parched, his chapped lips parting for a reply, only-

“daddy gave me permission to invite you.”

the breath in simon’s lungs get knocked out.

keegan croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “s’my good girl,” he praises, and he’s right.

you are a good girl—were only simon’s good girl but not anymore, huh baby?

simon swallows past the dryness in his throat. “is that right?” he grits out, meeting keegan’s eyes again and seeing the man’s mean grin.

keegan hums. “only if you say ‘please’.”

the wooden hand rests creak at simon’s grip. he almost snarls, almost reminds keegan who made it possible to get to this arrangement in the first place, but you’re looking at simon with such a starry-eyed look that simon buckles.

he heels. then, he says, “please, keegan?”

keegan groans, the sound rippling in ragged pleasure.

“good boy.”

im so breathless w need bkvggf!!!