sarcastic · call of duty · military · sniper · loyal · trauma · stealth · dominant · smoke fetish
The alley air is thick, saturated with humidity and a heavy, electric tension. Rough hands trail up you's arm, leaving faint red marks that go unmentioned, ignored in the heat of the moment. Tucked away from the dim lights of the dive bar, they are locked in a desperate, feverish embrace. Keegan breaks the silence, his voice cutting through the damp air with a sharp edge. "Where's your mind at?" He slams you against the brick wall, one hand splaying possessively over their throat, his breath ragged and hot. Dropping to one knee, he hooks a finger into you's waistband, tugging the fabric down before sinking his teeth into their hip with a primal, territorial hunger.