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I assume you gave the Navy a good screwing, yeah? I don't think that Navy Public Affairs would approve it at any rate. Well, somebody should show up these stupid, stuffy old pricks? Who's the hero, you? If there's any similarities, it is purely coincidental.
LEWIS PULLMAN as Thomas Keefer
THE CAINE MUTINY COURT-MARTIAL (2023) — dir. William Friedkin
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Summary: After sending some lewd photos to your navy boyfriend while he's a work, he comes home and fucks you senseless.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: MINORS DNI!! NSFW 18+! (dominant!brat tamer!Keefer, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, blowjob/face fucking, choking, spitting in mouth, spanking, dirty talk)
A/N: Idk dude I followed every impulsive thought that went through my brain writing this. Writing for Keefer has been another itch I've been meaning to scratch. He might have 5min of screentime, but there's something about him that drives me crazy. I need him. I apologize in advance.
You always liked to tease Keefer whenever you could. He was the perfect naval officer and Lieutenant, always pristine in his posture, hair, and attire. He took his work and presentation seriously and spoke with the precision of a talented writer. It was an attractive quality, but it also made pushing his buttons that much more fun. You liked watching him fray at the seams a little and seeing the fire beneath it all.
None of it would fly if it were anyone else. Aside from the camaraderie he had with the other sailors, there was a side to him that only you ever got to see. There was a trust and love that needed to be there for this work, the way it did. He was the cat, you were the bratty mouse, and you liked it that way.
One of your favorite things to do was send him pictures of yourself. Some were innocent selfies, while others were straight-up nudes. You did it a lot more when he was away at sea, just to torture him and make him miss you a little more. By the time he returned, he was a volcano ready to erupt and take you anyway he could just to release the pent-up energy from the past few months. The long distance was agony, but it had its perks.
Thomas was on shore duty now, which meant you had him all to yourself…when he was home, at least. You’d already been sending him flirty texts, but today you were feeling a little mischievous. So, you stripped naked and picked out one of Thomas’ crisp white shirts, draping it over your body. You went to the full-length mirror in your bedroom and sat down on your heels with your phone in hand. With the way you buttoned the shirt, your cleavage was on full display, and your pubic bone was peeking out, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. You took a few pictures, posing in ways that would let Keefer know just how naked you were beneath the fabric of his shirt. In one of them, you straight-up flashed the camera. When you were satisfied, you picked the best ones and sent them over with no remorse.
You sat on the edge of the bed, waiting with bated breath for his response. You watched the bubbles appear and disappear a few times as he typed a response, but chose to call you instead.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble, Y/N?” he demanded lowly.
He sounded so serious, but you could almost hear the smirk on his lips. It made your pulse quicken.
A giggle rumbled in your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You didn’t even hide them. Someone could have seen, you know? You’re pushing it, Y/N.”
“Oops.”
“‘Oops’? That’s all you have to say?”
“Did I look good? Did they get you hard?” you teased.
He huffed a breathy laugh. “Yes, you look good, but I’m a professional. I already told you that you can’t send me naked pictures while I’m on duty, Y/N.”
“Well, technically, I wasn’t naked this time. I made sure to grab one of your shirts.”
Thomas hummed. “It didn’t exactly cover much, did it? You’re lucky no one else saw, or else we’d have bigger problems. You’re gonna get me in trouble, Y/N.”
“So? You know you like them.”
“‘So’?” Thomas scoffed, which turned into a dark chuckle. His next words were spoken low so only you could hear. “Okay, baby. Since you want to be a little slut for my attention, I expect you to be waiting for me in the living room when I get home. Keep that same shirt on and nothing else.”
The command sent a chill down your spine, and your pussy started to throb. Before you could respond, Thomas hung up the phone, leaving you in the silence of your bedroom that was already thick with tension.
Just like Keefer ordered, you waited on the living room couch for his arrival. You even went out of your way to spray on the perfume that he liked, including on the shirt itself. With every passing second, your pounding heart grew louder, and you were already aching between your legs. When you heard him pull up, you nearly bolted for the door, but stayed rooted to the spot. Tonight was not for warm greetings. Not yet.
You watched his shadow pass across the window. The doorknob jingled before the door swung inward. As soon as he stepped inside, Thomas’ gaze found yours. He was as well-kept and clean as he was before he left the house this morning, his hair barely touched by the breeze. If he was tired, you couldn’t tell, because his blue eyes held a smoldering fire that pierced through you. It was a look you were familiar with, one that held lewd promises he meant to keep.
The faintest, smug smile curved Thomas’ lips as he locked the door and took slow, measured steps into the living room. You swallowed thickly as you eyed him from your seat, sitting on your heels against the cushions. He stopped a few feet before the coffee table and pointed at the floor in front of him.
“Come here.”
Without a single word, you rose from the couch and took the spot before him. Thomas’ smile was barely perceptible as he took you in with the intimidation of the naval Lieutenant that he was. He didn’t touch you and kept his hands in his pockets, making you squirm. Even then, you bit your lip as you tried and failed to hide a shit-eating grin.
“Something funny, Y/N?” he asked.
You shrugged.
“You think teasing me at work is funny?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
He huffed, his smirk returning as he said, “Get on your knees.”
Your eyes flashed as heat skittered across your skin. Yet, despite wanting every second of what was about to happen, you weren’t giving in without a fight.
“No.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows. “‘No’?”
“No.”
Both of you stared each other down, his eyes narrowing into slits as you dared him to do something. In the end, you got your wish, because his hand flew out of his pocket and wrapped around your throat. You inhaled sharply in surprise. The action wasn’t aggressive or painful; in fact, his touch was almost gentle. Almost. He lightly squeezed the sides of your neck, and a pleasurable moan fell from your lips.
Thomas leaned forward until his nose was practically touching yours, his breath fanning over your skin.
“That’s what you wanted, huh? You like when I’m rough, don’t you?” he asked with an impish grin.
“Mhmmm,” you replied with a nod.
“Then get on your knees,” he reiterated firmly.
He released your throat, and without another protest, you lowered yourself onto the rug dutifully. As you raised your eyes to meet his, Thomas looked down at you with dark intensity.
“Open your mouth.”
You opened wide, deliberately sticking your tongue out. Thomas bent down and grabbed your jaw to spit in your mouth. You very openly swallowed and licked your lips as he watched you with a half-lidded gaze.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
He straightened, and with the sound of metal and leather, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He lowered the waistband just enough to slip his dick out and stroke himself. You licked your lips as it grew in size, becoming erect.
“Since you wanted to get me hard so bad…I’m gonna need you to take care of this,” he said.
Despite being the one to give the orders, you could hear the slight restraint in his voice. Despite his composure, he wasn’t unaffected by you or this moment.
Thomas held his dick in your direction, urging you forward.
“Take my cock in your mouth.”
With your bottom lip between your teeth, you took his dick in your hand. You worked him slowly, spreading precum down the shaft and carefully squeezing the base. You met his eyes, wanting to catch his reaction before taking him in your mouth. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he clenched his jaw to bite back a groan. It was all the more incentive to fuck him thoroughly with your mouth, licking, sucking, and moaning around his cock, making it harder for him to maintain composure. It turned you on.
“Look at you,” he uttered between grunts. “Sucking my dick like the dirty slut you are. You want me to fuck your mouth?”
You nodded eagerly, giving a barely audible response. Thomas pushed your hair out of your face in a semi-affectionate way before grabbing the sides of your head and driving his cock into your mouth. The tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, making you gag with each thrust until there were tears in your eyes. It was filthy and primal. And it was then, in his pristine suit, that Thomas started to come undone as he fucked your mouth. A strand of his hair fell across his forehead, sweat glistened against his flushed skin, and his brow was furrowed with pleasure. To think a few pictures drove him to this, and now he was chasing release with your lips.
“Fuck, you’re such a little slut for me, Y/N, letting me use you like this. You like it when I use you like a toy, huh?”
The only response you could give was a whimper, because yes, it drove you insane in the best way when he took advantage of you.
Eventually, Thomas’ deliberate movements grew sloppy as he neared his climax. With one last thrust, he let out a strangled moan, completely emptying his cum into your mouth. You swallowed each salty drop like you were starving, and when Thomas finally pulled out, you were a slobbering, tear-stained mess on the floor.
He stared at you for a long moment, chest heaving, before holding out his hand. You took it, letting him pull you to your feet. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your wet lips.
“Good girl,” he whispered, before kissing you.
It was harsh and ravenous, and after not kissing him for hours, you found yourself clinging to him for more. But he pulled away and smirked at the sight of you, disappointed and pouting.
“Go to the kitchen counter and bend over. Face down.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath as thrill shot through you once more. Without argument, you simply did as you were told and walked into the kitchen. You could feel Thomas boring his gaze into the back of your head as he followed closely behind. As soon as you reached the counter, you bent at the waist, resting your cheek against the cold marble with your hands splayed on either side of you. The white button-up lifted with the movement, exposing your ass and bare pussy. As if you weren’t wet already, you were trembling with wanting and anticipation now.
You felt Thomas’ body heat as he approached from behind, hissing under his breath. He very slowly bunched up the shirt to your waist and traced his fingers down your spine and around the curve of your ass. It was languid and purposeful, sending goosebumps across your skin.
“You like teasing me, don’t you, baby? Does it turn you on, getting under my skin?”
He then gave your right cheek a light spank, making your breath hitch.
“A little bit,” you gasped.
“Is it because you like what I do to you after?”
He brushed his fingers through your soaking core, suppressing any coherent answer you might have given him. You instinctively moved your hips towards him, chasing the feeling.
“Mhmmmm.”
Thomas chuckled. “You’re soaking wet, Y/N, and I’ve barely touched you. You’re just begging to be fucked.”
He unceremoniously inserted two digits inside you and curled them against the most sensitive spot within. A high-pitched whine fell from your lips as your hands tried grasping for something, but to no avail. He moved fast, plunging his fingers in and out of you. He built you up, your pleasure climbing higher, but then, just like that, Thomas stopped and removed them before you could reach the end. You gasped and looked over your shoulder at him angrily. He merely looked at you with that smug smile of his.
“If I let you come, are you gonna be a good girl?” he asked.
At this point, you were desperate for release.
“Yes,” you replied.
He raised his eyebrows. “You promise?”
“Yes. Yes, I promise!”
“Then stay down, baby.”
You pressed your cheek against the counter once more with your heart thrashing against your ribs. You were restless now and fidgeting in place. Thomas spread your legs wider and, with one hand on your ass, he pushed his dick completely into you to the hilt. The feeling of him stretching you and filling you made your head spin. He felt so perfect, so good, and he hadn’t even moved yet. You’d let him do anything to you now, undoubtedly.
“Tom,” you whined.
Thomas groaned, unable to contain himself now. “Fuck, baby.”
He proceeded to pound into you, fucking you into the counter until you were breathless. Your skin slapped with every thrust of his hips against yours, mixing with the wet sounds of his dick dragging in and out of your pussy. You were grateful for the sturdiness of the marble beneath you, which held you up as you turned into a puddle of euphoria. He took complete control of your body and pleasure, and as always, he knew exactly which buttons to push to make you utterly his.
Thomas spanked you one more time, the sting too good to handle.
“Come around my cock, Y/N. Give it to me.”
He moved harder and faster, pushing you towards your body-shaking orgasm. It hit you slowly and then all at once, until you were squeezing your eyes shut and involuntarily arching your back with a strangled cry. You came all over his dick as your walls clenched around him, and for the second time, Thomas came inside you, filling you up.
You were barely coming down, barely taking a breath, when he said,
“One more.”
He bent over you, resting his hand beside yours while his other snaked down your belly, between your thighs. He found your swollen clit, and moved his fingers in tight, rapid circles. You moaned softly, still too sensitive from the last orgasm he gave you.
“Wait, wait, wait…Tom…Oh my God.”
It wasn’t a true protest, he knew that.
“One more, baby,” he uttered against the shell of your ear. “I’m just giving you what you wanted.”
Thomas wrapped his left hand around your throat while keeping his relentless pace. He took pleasure in having you at his mercy and being able to touch you in ways nobody else could, and so did you. Before you knew it, your second orgasm overwhelmed you and then a third, because Lieutenant Thomas Keefer wanted you to fall apart in his hands completely.
You nearly collapsed against the counter and took deep, shaking breaths as you came down. Your legs were shaking, and you could hardly keep your eyes open from how blissed out you were. You felt Thomas brush your hair out of your face and finally opened your eyes to look at him. He was still smiling, but the fierceness in his blue eyes slowly softened.
“Good girl. You satisfied?” he teased.
You giggled. “Yeah.”
“Well, we both know it’s only a matter of time before you do that again, but for now…” He leaned down and kissed you on the temple. “Let’s take a shower.”
Your boyfriend is a man of many talents. Cute, smart, brave, many people would be lucky to have him. Which is why you don't mind hogging up your free time together
"Ocean blurs into sky, blue as boundless as the stillness running through me -ooh I like that." You said pointing off towards your boyfriend down past the main hall. "Its like that paragraph in the first chapter, you gonna do that alluding thing all throughout? I hear that's a smart tactic," You cleared your throat then continued. "It's not always quiet like this. Not even the type of hush that brings with it a relaxing ease -Typo, you put the word 'ease' twice."
The reading went on for a few minutes more. You lounging on the couch by lamplight while Tom was busying himself in a nearby room -currently up to his elbows with soap in the kitchen. A review of his rough drafts, something that became routine during late nights after he first shared his short stories with you.
He was a writer. Always scribbling away in his free time. With how little he had of it you'd think he'd only have one or two manuscripts in his desk drawers, a notebook full of ideas he never got around to. But no, he'd already written and published dozens of short stories, even had a big novel he was just starting on. A promising one, already had a few companies interested in taking a look for development.
He was so sharp. Works all based on his real experiences, kind of autobiographical fictions. That type of genre you didn't naturally find yourself reading. But going through his rough drafts you consistently found yourself hooked. He had such a way with words. No wonder he was getting such good representation on his stories.
You were so proud of him. Doing what he loves and getting acknowledged for it. He deserved it, you really thought so.
I mean, what other Navy man do you know who was skilled enough to become third ranking officer, instructing such a large crew, defending the county, and still keeping his wits about him enough to be writing essays with few editorial mistakes. And to still be able to come home and care for you as if the time away had done nothing at all except pause the good times you'd left off on. He never made you feel forgotten.
Even opted to write you monthly letters when deployed despite the fact that you spent plenty of time calling and texting.
It was sweet. You kept every single one. All packed neatly into a red tin box on your nightstand.
Maybe you were a little biased towards him.
But you couldn't help how much rosier the lenses he created kept on getting.
"Hey, Babe, where'd you put the drain cleaner?" Tom called from the sink.
"Same place as always."
"Haven't been here in a while but I'm not seeing it. Y'sure you didn't put it somewhere else?"
You peeked over the back of the couch. "No. It should be in the cabinet under there. Left side."
He sat crouched in front of it, one hand on the door, the other nudging aside cleaning products.
"Nope. Still ain't seeing it." He stood, rinsing his hands off one final time before heading over to you, towel in hand. "I'll pick some up when I go out tomorrow."
"I can get it." You sat up a bit more, laptop slipping onto the leather of the couch. "You're supposed to be resting up. Lay in bed. Stay at home. Relaxing."
He chuckled, lips quirking up into that half smile of his. Never quite full, almost like he was picking fun at you. Some joke playing in his eyes that he never let you in on.
He leaned over the back of the couch, strands of his neatly done hair falling over his brow. "What? Don't think I can handle a supermarket trip?"
"No. I just told you why. Besides, I was due to buy groceries anyways, I'll just add drainage to the list."
He flicked his fingers your way. Not touching, but rogue droplets of water flung over you.
You held back a grin, pushing his hands away.
"You so do not trust me to handle such a simple thing." He playfully teased, arms moving down to fold over the couch. "With all my know how and clean record of escorting you in and out of such busy establishments, you still don't think I can do it? Need letters of recommendation? Lieutenant Keefer, comes from modest beginnings, but we'd greatly recommend him for the service of ever important tasks such as cleaning up your shopping list."
"I do trust you," you smiled, "I just think I'd be happier knowing you were in a place long enough to rest. And if you complain of lack of sleep after that then it'll be entirely your fault. Lieutenant Keefer."
He let out a breath of a laugh, eyes closing as he hung his head down. "Mm, so you're trying to tell me I talk too much."
"No." You corrected.
A hand moved up to brush the hair from his face, fingers lightly grazing sea kissed skin. Blue eyes opened up to meet yours when they did.
"I'm trying to tell you that you do a lot while you're working. You're home now. Go ahead and take a moment cause you have one."
"I could take it with you," he'd placed a cheek in his palm, words coming out warbled from the push. "Rest doesn't always come with shut eyes. M'recharging just from this for example. Bein' near you."
Your eyes rolled but your mouth curled up happily. "You want something. What is it?"
"Nothing." He made a disinterested face, shrugging. "Nothing. Never want nothing. My little editor's doing enough bearing through all my inky nonsense."
He folded the damp towel over the coffee stand, walking around to sit beside you on the couch. Then lifted the laptop and leather-bound note book, pens and pencils tucked inside it, onto the table as well. He slouched down, back half against the arm of the couch, and pulled you with gentle hands to follow him into a resting position.
"You want me to rest, I'll rest. No biggie."
You giggled and braced your hands on his chest. "No, there's something up with you. What is it? Been invited to another party Mister Popular?"
He shook his head, eyes shutting, and just made way to pull you to lay against him. "No plotting, no partying. Just taking your orders ma'am. Resting like there's no tomorrow. Captain's pretty strict, you'd wouldn't like to find out what she does when we don't listen. So just shh and go along with it."
Smiling, you closed your own eyes and settled against him, just listening to the steady thrum of his heart.
"Okay, if you you say so."
This was what you liked.
Just you and him in the snug alcove of your home. His body pulsing under your ear, chest lifting you to rise and fall with every breath. Close and warm, the silence that's ever present in these walls finally filled by him. He was home. Your home in a way he couldn't imagine. You couldn't imagine what life would be like without him. If he didn't return from sea for whatever reason.
Your hands lightly fisted his shirt.
He had to keep coming home. Whatever he faced out there and couldn't tell you about, those things that worried your mind every day are what pushed you to keep trying harder to make his time on land a little more memorable. Taking care of the little chores like shopping and proofreading was your way of showing how much it meant to you that you still got to see him. There was probably a better way to show it, but he'd be away again sooner than you'd think, and you only wished that by doing those things he'd be able to remember them when he was on his own, out there doing those little things himself. Hoped they'd at least be enough to put a little smile on his face when he picked up his pen or set out his clothes to fold or searched for supplies. He was the world for you.
You could only hope you were the world for him.
"You're stressing 'bout something," he murmured, voice low, slight drawl coming out now that he wasn't focused on keeping it in check. His hand rubbed up and down your back, wrist rolling to maintain the repetitive motion. Warmth from his palm seeping past the cloth to your skin. "What'd I do?"
"Nothing." You said clearly. "Just missing you is all."
"I'm right here darlin'. Right here. Ain't goin' nowhere." He assured calmly.
A sigh blew out. One of those long, low ones. The kind that come from genuine relaxation. That sleepiness was finally rearing its head. He'd be able to get some good rest tonight.
You hummed softly and snuggled closer.
Nearly drifting off before he spoke again.
"Speaking of, you think it'd be a good idea to clear your calendar this weekend? Host a celebration for a couple chums of ours? Just a little welcome back type thing? Get those neighbors to back off from spying on us over that picket fence? They always seem to be lurking around more once I'm home. Won't gotta deal with another of their friendly pies they make just to gain entry past the threshold. At least with a party you won't have to feel bad tossing em out. Just feed it to the guests."
You shifted your head to look at him.
His eyes were still closed, hand still caressing your back, looking like he was half asleep. You knew better.
"You already got it all set up and scheduled don't you?"
He shook his head, a convincing frown following. "No, no, just bringing it up now. Why, you ain't up for it? I'll admit I don't think it's a great idea, but if it'll help you out I'm all for it."
"Help me out with what? Don't try that twisty stuff on me. You've fooled before, it won't happen again. If you want a party say it. And, by the way, if this is that twisty stuff, you're doing awful. Heard way better convincing tactics from you before."
He laughed slightly. A little jump of his chest with a half smile that followed. "Nah, it ain't that. I just know that you're an excellent host and it gives you some time to show off and me some time to admire you, that's all."
You narrowed your eyes, searching as if the look would make it any easier to pin him.
Sensing your staring he opened his eyes and looked down at you. "Listen, if I ever wanted to try 'twisting you,' in any serious way, you'd never know it. Please, I know better. Plus, you're easiest to appeal to."
He hooked a strong finger under your chin and flicked it upwards. A playful gesture.
You scoffed and grabbed his wrist. "As if. But, since you brought it up, maybe I will host a little get-together for you. You probably don't get many of those on deck, huh? At least not in the traditional way." You looked off pondering.
"Great idea, hon," he kissed your forehead. "And you just proved my point."
"What?"
He turned, knocking you back to lay trapped between him and the couch. He shut his eyes, arm draping over you. "Saturday at eight, Marina Hotel, lobby's all ours for four hours, catering staff has been scheduled, wear that nice number you bought for yourself my last birthday."
"What? Tom." You pushed his shoulder.
"Night, Babe."
"Tom!" You said again
"Resting. On your orders. Shh." He cooed, laying more of his weight on you.
You decided to sigh and settle back. Simply reaching an arm up to play with honey colored hair. And although you were now wondering if what he said held any truth, if he'd ever got you to do something big while you thought it was your idea, you were ultimately distracted by the feeling of his nose burrowing into your neck. Content breaths left your lips, smile spreading, and you pulled him closer.
Questions for another day.
For now, he was home, he was safe, and he was all yours for the evening. What more could you ask for?
