hello avid angelfoxx enjoyers! long time no see. uhhh hi ok so anywho my COD phase has sorta ceased for now and when i write smut its not usually for the COD guys, its for my own characters over on @foxxfuxx . i’ll probably pop in here every now and again but hey, if you liked my writing style, my characterization or just thought i was fucking funny i HIGHLY recommend going over there and checking out my debut content. i’ll be leaving all of my content here up obviously, but if you’re looking for fresh hot smut of sexy ass characters never before seen because they are actually mine then pls pls pls go check out @foxxfuxx love u all mwah mwah foxx
Agfhjfjfkf I love your writing style, your fics are well written but also distinguishable from other writers on here, if you know what I mean?? Like you have some fucking magic ability😭😭 there’s always originality in your posts, always something you add to them that makes them extra interesting nd intriguing lol
I love the humor in your posts too, actually makes me laugh and I feel like your personality(i don’t know you so that’s kinda wierd to say but whatever🙂) kinda shines through your work as well, you seem like a really cool person🤞🤞 the sarcasm nd everything, kinda one of the things that I feel makes your Keegan content really good cuz it kinda suits what I imagine his personality is like. Hello “his rifle slung up on the chair like it was eating soup as well” or whatever it was, loved it😭😭
this is so nice. thank u luv 🫶🏻 i’m glad i’ve become the funny writer who makes good sex stories that’s my whole goal
Coddling Keegan while giving him a handjob😖😖he’s cuddled up to you, head buried in your neck while your hand pumps his cock slow nd sloppy, whines a little when you pay attention to his tip, rubbing it with your thumb, “feels good, baby? Hm?” While ruffling his hair❤️❤️
…in which a very tired keegan gets special treatment.
FEATURING: keegan p russ (duh)
WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. mild overstim. mentions of crying. whoopsie
NOTE/S: hi anon hope u know i read this and my stomach clenched up. sorry just thought u should be aware
“Feel good?” Your voice is just a soft murmur, sickeningly sweet and practically dripping in endearment. “Is that good, Kee?”
The only response you get is a breathy half-groan.
Poor Keegan. Genuinely. He’d come back from what he dubbed a shit mission this past afternoon; nothing too risky. Just a job that the “regular” recruits hit a wall with. A job that he had to go finish, because apparently the general force couldn’t get the fucking thing done.
His next assignment? Tomorrow afternoon. Approximately twelve hours from now, he’d be out again.
The poor guy was fucking exhausted. Hell, he’d called you that morning from the bed of the truck, and…you know why he had to go, you know that it’s his job and all, but…Christ, he’d sounded so tired. Tired and strained and done. Every nerve in your body had been screaming at you to fawn over him the minute he got home; a warm bath, a hot mug of tea (black). Some soup, bowl steaming. Hell, you’d been wringing your hands together at the mere thought of washing his hair. It had become a regular practice at this point; whenever he came back from an assignment, you’d be there to give him a soft landing upon arriving home.
This time around, you didn’t have the time for that. Despite his arguments, you’d probably have a word with whatever shit-for-brains commander had been in charge of putting him on back-to-back assignments.
To focus on the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Keegan had told you he didn’t want all of the fancy stuff; tea, sure. Soup, sure. The bath and everything? No, he’d just shower.
He wanted a hot mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and then he wanted you to make him feel better in the best way you knew how.
Hence; your current position.
You hadn’t even made it to the bed. Keegan hadn’t even finished his fucking soup. He’d been staring into it like a ghost; gaze vacant, face empty, eyeblack staining his skin charcoal-gray. Hell, the man had just thrown whatever clothes he could find on; just a plain white tee and sweats. For once, he hasn’t been careful with his gear; he’s got it slung haphazardly across the chair beside him. His fucking rifle is sitting on the thing like it’s also eating soup.
He didn’t have to say much. He just kind of shifted and looked you in the eye; sat back, opened his legs a little wider.
Upon swinging a leg over him and sitting in his lap, Keegan had all but deflated.
He’d smelled like soap. Kind of tasted like it, too. Either he had scrubbed off a layer of skin in the shower or he’d just neglected to fully rinse all of the shampoo out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t mind; the fact that he smelled vaguely of vanilla (because for some reason he continued to take your shampoo and not use his own) and he was just slumped back in the chair, weakly holding onto your head as you littered a trail of little marks along his throat…
…oh, sweet boy.
He thought the pet name was stupid. Usually. He’d laugh at you if you called him by it in most situations; the day he’d apparently decided it was safe enough to kiss you goodbye before he boarded the plane to head out on an assignment, you’d called him a sweet boy and Keegan, fully geared up in his vest and helmet with probably five different weapons strapped on around his waist, had just whistled and hummed in response.
Sweet boy, carrying a rifle and a knife and god-fucking-knows-what-else.
Now, though, he doesn’t complain. Either because he’s too tired to or because, right now, even he knows that it’s fitting. Big, beefy soldier, pretty blue eyes rolled back, pretty pink lips parted and pretty little mouth too tired to fight the quiet little noises that would normally remain buried under his tongue. His brow knits, and his nostrils flare, and — oh — his chest rises and his breath hisses in through his nose.
A fat pearl of pre swells up on his tip for a moment before you run your thumb over it and spread it across the blunt round of his cockhead.
It’s not fair to him. Maybe. You’re going so slow and you’re just lazily stroking him but he doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, not at all. His brow knits and his mouth opens a little further; he lets out a short, hoarse breath, chest puffing up before it shudders back down and the muscles along his neck flex.
“Deep breaths, Kee.” You lean forward, kissing the side of his cheek and biting back a grin when his entire body shudders. “Easy.”
“Can’t?” You smile, body shuddering. “Aw. Sweet boy.”
Keegan tries to shoot you a glare. He tries. One squeeze of your hand closing over his cockhead has him tensing up again, head tipping back and jaw clenching up as he bites back another groan.
You don’t say anything. You could tease him more (hell, you’d be jumping at the chance any other time), but right now he’s almost pitiful. Sore, exhausted, run-down and on a tight deadline to head back out tomorrow.
The man deserves a break. He doesn’t deserve to be mocked. So you keep your mouth shut (at least, in regards to taunting him) and you tease your thumb over his slit in slow little circles.
Keegan’s body shudders. From somewhere deep in his chest, he groans, brow knitting and eyes squeezing shut. His hips buck up; his cock slides through your grasp, swollen and slick. He’s aching for release, aching for it; it’s like his self-control has been put out to float on a raft and is just drifting towards total euphoric collapse. His head lolls on his neck; he’s in a daze, exhaustion and pleasure mixing like a dreamy cocktail in his system.
“I’ll get a nice bath ready for you after this assignment. Sound good?” You grin as you swish your thumb over his tip and he stiffens, body wound tight and eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn’t give you a verbal response; he just groans, one of his hands pawing uselessly at your waist. His big hands, gloved hands, rough and callous…
The throaty auh Keegan lets out brings your head back into reality, just in time to see his jaw drop and his pretty lips form a pink O as his eyes squint and his lashes flutter. His cock jerks in your hands, and a dribble of thin pre runs down the joints of your fingers. His hips buck up; under that thin layer of cotton, you feel his abdomen flex tight.
Apparently embarrassed at his own sound, Keegan turns his face towards you. Messily, he thrusts his lips at yours; when your body ripples and your hand flexes, he groans, low and tired into your mouth. His skin is hot; he’s flustered, but he’s too tired to do much about it.
“You gonna fall asleep on me after this?” You manage a quiet laugh. “No real rounds?”
Keegan groans. His voice, when it does manage to come out, is throaty and hoarse. There’s a sort of grumble in his voice, a sort of sleepy drawl that has your knees weak. “Shit, if you want…”
You giggle, biting your tongue when you skim the tips of your fingers over the ridge of his head and he tenses, teeth sinking into his lip. “I don’t think you can, Kee. I really don’t.”
“Shut it.” Though his tone is gruff, a tease of your finger over his leaking slit has Keegan’s head lolling back and his eyes, pretty pools of sapphire blue, roll back as his lashes flutter. “I’ll just lay there. You…nngh…you can just get on top an’…”
Keegan’s body shudders. His shoulders lift off the back of the chair; there’s a tremor deep in his belly that you can feel under your hand as he slumps back again, stomach rolling forward and hips rolling up. His abdomen clenches and sucks in so hard you can see the outline of his abs through his shirt, despite the loose fit.
Close.
You’ve learned his bodily cues by now. He tenses, starts to breathe hard — you can hear air rasping in and out of his nose — and, yeah, he paws around until he can grab onto your wrist, fingers wrapping around the spot right under your hand. He’s funny like that; you wouldn’t catch him dead pitying himself, telling you he was nothing but your little play-thing — but god, the quiver in his hand and the tremor in his breath is so, so far away from dominant. It’s so far away from being in control. If anything, he’s feeling your control; he’s feeling your pulse pick up as you shift on his lap, he’s feeling your arm tense as you bite your lip and stroke quicker, faster, twist your hand, and — oh — he’s gripping tight as you swipe your hand at just the right angle, pull it flush against the base of his cock and pump up and —
The strangled cry that comes out of Keegan’s mouth is strained and loosely contained. His jaw snaps shut, his lips seal; his hips buck up, and there’s a soft scuffle as his feet shove against the ground and his socks give him no traction to hold on.
You see the corded muscle of his neck swell at the same time that you feel a ribbon of something hot and sticky squirt up your forearm.
Five times. Five times, Keegan’s hips jerk up; his head turns either way, and his eyes squeeze shut for the first two jolts. They start to open; they flutter, roll back. Close again for the third. The same goes for the fourth. The fifth, though, his eyes open when his hips twitch, and when you try to meet his gaze you look into bottomless blue hues lidded and vague with euphoria.
The blunt edges of his nails dig into your wrist right under a streak of cum. The stuff strings your arm and webs beneath it, threatening to drip onto his thighs. Not that he’d mind, probably. Not now, at least. He’s too weak and tired to really care. Too busy groaning, sound contained deep in his chest, body rippling as pleasure tides over him. Over…and over…and over.
“Feel better?” You prompt the question in a soft voice after a long moment of silence for him to recover. Not that he had any performance issues — just tired, like this, pushed flat-out for too long…he has this worn, beaten look on his face. Barely lifted after everything.
“Yeah.” Despite that, Keegan’s response comes quick; breathless, but quick. His eyes shift over to meet yours, and Christ, if he looked tired before…
“Kee.” The note of pity that leaks into your voice is entirely instinctual. When you lean forward, his breathing staggers; he sort of half-laughs when you run your thumb over his three-fourths lidded eyes, weakly turning away from the contact. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Kee.” You repeat his name, more seriously this time. “Kee, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I’m not.” Keegan shakes his head; as if to prove his point, he shifts a little in his seat, pulling himself slightly more upright.
“You look like it. You look so tired.” You lean forward, this time; it’s an effort to push his hair back, and one that he leans away from. “Keegan. Let me take care of you.”
In response, he only laughs. It’s a tired laugh, one that rasps in his chest, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he replies, his tone isn’t serious. “You’ve got it on your hands.”
so sorry for my absence. my cod hyperfixation chilled the fuck out a little whoopsie anyways
You doing okay??😭 I’m so sorry if this is annoying, are you taking a break from posting?
I DID NOT REALIZE I HAD AMASSED A WAITING AHDIENCE. i am doing wonderfully 🙏🏻 im in college so classes and my personal writing stuff is at the forefront of my mind. im sporadic here </3 thank u for checking in though. ill post at some point eventually
every day i wake up and maybe half of the time i manage to make a post here. the other half of the time i strongly debate on making a page like this for my own fucking characters. literally who would read that shit
going through the keegan x reader tag and finding you was a godsend bc as i consumed all your keegan stuff, i couldn’t help but giggle at each inner thought you put in strikethrough text and think “oh my god, me too”
writing keegan smut has become my thoughts outlet. the crossed out shit just gets too wild for u all
As a fellow keegan truther… do you have a headcanon of where keegan is from? Like, story wise I think it would make sense if he was from the west as well but idk
maybe im just projecting but i’m feeling the midwest. like i’m feeling somewhere in like…wisconsin? i don’t know why but he’s just giving me midwestern town vibes. like i could see him coming home to a little house on a little street that backs up to a pine forest, real calm and quiet. gets up and drinks his coffee but it’s Wisconsin so it’s cold and he wears bunny slippers. i cannot imagine the looks on the real devoted cod ghosts players faces rn
Lemme just say, your little side notes on your fics? They are fucking hilarious like I was reading through all of your stuff smiling like an idiot from your comments, can't wait to read more
Immediate follow 🫡
ugh thank u. im used to sticking to my “professional” posting over on wattpad so im just fucking around on here a little. i take great pride in being funny 🙏🏻
hello!! i am new to your blog but i love all your cod writing esp the headcannon :> i’m here to ask your thoughts on their masturbation tendencies HFHDHSJSGDHA because idk something about men gripping themselves and being all desperate and whiny hnng
my faves are konig and simon but feel free to write anyone heh ❤️
┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ SORRY, BAD TIME? ❞
…some of the cod men & how they get themselves off.
FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, könig, john “soap” mactavish & keegan p russ.
WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. scattered extras such as exhibitionism, phone sex, possibly slight perversion. u know. the goodies
NOTE/S: i added a few for giggles. i really need to learn more about gaz (he seems very fun) and horangi (saw the tiktok where his arms are exposed and he has tats and wears rings? hmmm…) but anyways
★ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.
✦ — He’s not letting you know of his feelings for a long ass time. He’s doing a lot of self-care, if you get the idea. And absolutely nobody knows about it.
✦ — Like, you could reasonably assume that this is a stressful environment and at some point everyone has to blow off steam, but for some reason the concept of your six-foot-four, dead-eyed stone-faced lieutenant getting himself off is wild. Because you just don’t think about it like that. You don’t consider that under that mask, he’s probably got the same sorts of occasional hormones that the other guys have.
✦ — He’s quiet when he does it. Like, completely silent. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to make noise — occasionally a grunt or groan will slip out, or his breathing will stutter — but he’s not someone who’s whining and moaning like a common whore. He’s just taking care of his own problems, on his own. He’s telling himself it’s just a bodily thing; yes, you’re attractive, and yes, he wants to be close to you, and yes, you’re the reason that he was so quick to disembark once your training group returned to base. He had to take care of himself. Yeah. It’s whatever, though.
✦ — Almost exclusively jerks off in bed. Usually after he’s tried to convince himself not to give in to his brain screaming at him to fuck the shit out of you. Sits against the headboard, head tilted back, eyes closed (most of the time; he’s got the door closed and everyone knows not to try to come in after-hours, but if someone needed him for an emergency the last thing he wants is for them to burst in on his dick in his hands).
✦ — He’s not careful with it. He probably would look a little violent if you were watching him. Head to base, hand twisting, et cetera. Just…I don’t know. Standard jerk-off procedure?
★ KÖNIG. SOMEONE TELL ME HIS SURNAME
✦ — Does this shit at least once a day. Maybe twice. Absolutely bursting at the seams with the need to bust one every few hours. Sorry. He’s not shy, he’s socially awkward. You bitches keep thinking he would be cute and gentlemanly. He’s the kind of guy that has his cumsock sticking to his pants and he doesn’t realize and then he thinks it’s funny. Sorry. Sorry to ruin your I’M NOT SORRY I’M NOT SORRY OHHHH MY GOD RIPS MY HAIR OUT
✦ — Prone to whipping it out whenever he has a private minute to himself. He’s in his office between meetings with sergeants? He’s got his dick out. He’s taking a cold shower after returning from a mission? Jerking it under the running water. He’s laying in bed with you, his newly-nominated partner? Guess where his hands are at?
✦ — I said Ghost was sloppy. This bitch is downright dangerous. He just grabs at himself half the time. Is he a masochist? Maybe. He chokes the fuck out of his family honor and he seems to get off to it. Hard fast stroker. Cockstroking Olympics champion type shit.
✦ — Loud. Unfortunately for him. If the violent fwaps you’re hearing from his office aren’t enough to give away what he’s up to in there, the creaking wood combined with shuddering groans probably are. Sometimes he laughs mid-session and you have to wonder what he’s thinking about that could make him laugh while he’s beating himself off.
✦ — Keeps a wastebin by his bed and the thing is just filled with tissues. That’s all.
★ JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.
✦ — Regularly gets himself off. Probably does so more often now because you’re really damn attractive and he’s really damn weak for you. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Something as stupid as him opening the truck door for you and letting you go in first has you smiling and saying “thanks, ‘tavish” and suddenly he has to run to the bathroom to go take care of the problem tenting his pants.
✦ — Like König; will do it anytime he has a minute. Unlike König; does not do it exclusively when he’s alone. If he can be discreet about it, he’ll play it risky. On the jet when everyone’s starting to fall asleep on the ride home, in a public bathroom stall even if there’s a line outside and people in the adjacent ones. He does not care. He’s very confident in his ability to stay quiet.
✦ — He’s…not very quiet. He can stifle his sounds when he gets started but he’s very very very prone to letting little squeaks or whines slip when he nears his climax. Prone to gasping when he finishes.
✦ — Also, god fucking forbid he’s been unable to get himself off for any amount of time. That shit has him pissed off and short-tempered and also when he does climax he fucking yells. Like, shouts.
✦ — If you’re in a relationship, he’s calling you and asking you to talk him through it. Tries to keep himself in control but loses it and turns into the whiniest bitch you’ve ever fucking heard.
✦ — Has jerked violently into a corner before a la that one Tedros scene from The Idol. Sorry.
★ KEEGAN P RUSS.
✦ — A little more laid back. Gets himself off if he needs to, but he’s not as hopped-up on desperation as the guys seen above. Also not as fucking aggressive with it.
✦ — Really only jerks in total privacy. Will wait until it seems like everyone has gone to sleep and then indulge. Doesn’t rush himself, either. He’s settling in for a nice long session of blowing off steam.
✦ — Thinks of you the whole time. Probably imagines it’s your hands and he also probably maybe managed to find something that you lost and maybe he’s got it in his bed somewhere and maybe possibly it smells like you and—
✦ — Edges himself. Sorry. Not sorry. Pays special attention to his head and slit because he prefers the short sparks of pleasure rather than just manhandling his whole dick the entire time. Might choke himself, just a little, if he’s feeling particularly excited.
✦ — Low, quiet groans as he does it. If anything. He’s probably the best at keeping quiet; his breathing gets quicker but it doesn’t always get louder. He does just…sometimes…get a little carried away, and that’s when he’ll groan.
✦ — Cumsock haver! He puts it through the laundry though, so it’s not like…as gross as it could be? It stays in his room, buried right alongside the underwear of yours that somehow ended up in his laundry. Oops.
‘enemy contact ahead’ when i tell you i almost CRIED hearing him say that
RIPS MY HAIR OUT OF MY SKULL. U GET IT ANON. ITS THE TONE. ITS THE TONE. ENEMY CONTACT AHEAD? DROOLING. SHOWTIME? ON MY KNEES. IMMA SAY HELLO TO THESE TWO; BE READY? SHITTING BRICKS. GOOOOOOOD LORDDDDDD
i have a request but i don’t want you to think i’m a weirdo— it’s nothing TOO crazy but it’s also humorous
i made a 10k word long oc x reader smut in which the reader gets fucked by a knife handle on a church altar. trust when i say u cannot faze me. hit me with your best shot
hypnotizes u. ooooh u want keegan so bad u want him so bad it hurts. who the fuck is ghost who the fuck is konig also why the fuck does him trying to find purchase on the ground but his foot continuing to slide out from under him do somethin to me
Yeah no fr. The take down scene was giving "I'm more experienced and stronger than you, so let me do it" but not in a disrespectful or degrading way he just took the lead and it was so hot FOR WHAT FOR WHAT!?
man it’s that and also just the fact that he does it so casually. that and the…idk all of my lore so ur gonna have to trust me on this one, the scene where he grabs the enemy coming in thru the door and drags him to the floor n keeps him quiet? and the guys kicking and shit and the whole time Keegan doesn’t say a fucking word?????? and then afterward he just gets up and casually continues on??? BRO?? SWEATING THROWING UP AND SHAKING
