introduction
name: grass, or tohsri.
gender/pronouns: she/her
interests: writing (barely), drawing
below is my list of people i simp for (a lot i dont write for srry)
toji, gojo, yuji, kakashi, aizawa, keigo, sanji, denji, kirishima, kaminari, giyu, rengoku, nanami, shinsou, tamaki, childe, zhongli, ayato, ayaya, razor, bennett, kaeya, diluc, alhaitham, tighnari, shigaraki, dabi, venti, xinyan, chongyun, xingqiu, itto, gorou, cyno, thoma, xiao, scaramouche, kazuha, oikawa, sukuna, geto, ace, luffy, kenma, madara, itachi, levi, zoro, obito, eren yeager, dazai, bokuto, joonie, ahjuicy ,suigetsu, sasuke, kuroo, tsukishima, basketball akaza, muzan jackson, yoon-bum, aki, sanemi, douma, gyutaro, daki, charasuke, khaviah, yuri briar, naruto, orochimaru, karin, kisame omg, loid forger, yor (mom) briar, derek dachoco, marcus madeleine, rimuru, gojo, jotaro, dio, howl (howl’s moving castle), sakura, konan, deidara, sasori, sai, pein, jugo, jiraiya pervy sage omgg, nami, nojiko, naoya
and heres fandoms i HAVE wrote about
-jujutsu kaisen
-naruto
ok ik its not much but like even if i do its extremely ooc clown
Ben exhaled a thick cloud of marijuana smoke, his green eyes watching your movements with a lazy, predatory hunger. His legs were spread wide, his thick, powerful thighs framing the space he wanted you to be. "That's it, sweetheart. Come here and be a good girl for Ben" he growled, his voice hoarse from years of cigarettes and whiskey. When you obediently settled into his lap, he chuckled harshly and leaned in to whisper dirty promises in your ear about exactly how he planned to fuck you later.
His fingers hooked into the hem of your shorts, teasing the skin beneath, before he pulled away abruptly. "Actually, screw it..I need a different kind of fun" he growled, pushing you down until you were kneeling between his thighs like the submissive slut he knew you could be. "Try harder, baby."
One hand remained wrapped around the joint, the ember glowing brightly as he took another drag, while the other fisted roughly in your hair. He squeezed even harder, throwing your head back to expose your throat before thrusting his thick cock between your lips. "That's it, swallow it," he commanded, his voice thick with vulgar satisfaction. As you gagged, tears welling in your eyes from his depths, he simply watched with a sadistic grin, smoke curling around your faces as he deliberately teased you, giving you no relief, reveling in the sight.
"Fuck, you're just a natural-born slut for sucking my dick, aren't you?" " he growled, his words muffled by the smoke as he leaned back, letting out a satisfied groan. He watched with undisguised arrogance as your eyes filled with tears, your throat tightening around his cock as he took another slow drag of the joint. He loved this feeling of power, the way he could make a beautiful girl like you squirm and resist simply because he wanted to.
"Don't you dare stop, baby. Keep going until I tell you otherwise," he ordered, tightening his grip on your hair to emphasize his command. He wasn't thinking about tenderness or aftercare right now; he was thinking about how good it felt to dominate something so soft and young. The combination of marijuana smoke and the unbridled need for control made his blood boil.
"Yeah, that's it. Swallow every damn inch," he muttered, his hips jerking up involuntarily as you struggled to keep up with his pace. With his free hand, he reached down, roughly brushing his thumb across your cheekbone where a tear had rolled. He brushed it away with the pad of his finger. "Look at you. So damn obedient. I wonder what else you'd do if I really pissed you off."
You choked on his cock, whimpering and moaning. Ben clicked his tongue sharply in disapproval as you instinctively tried to pull away from the thickness of his cock filling your throat. "What the hell was that?" he barked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, raspy register. Before you could catch your breath, his palm struck your cheek sharply, but not painfully. A mere slap. "I never told you to pull away, princess."
The burning sensation seared your skin, but the fear of disappointing him was stronger. His grip on your hair tightened painfully, pressing your face against his groin, making retreat impossible. "You'll take every damn inch of this, and you'll love it, do you hear me?" he growled, exhaling another cloud of smoke that stung your watering eyes. "Don't you dare make me ask twice. You're here to please me, not whine."
He leaned forward, his free hand pinning your head to him with relentless force, causing you to gag violently as his cock sank deep into your throat again. "That's it. Now be a good little slut and finish what you started," he muttered, a cruel, satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he watched you struggle to submit. "Fuck, you're so pathetic when you cry like that. It's so fucking arousing."
After a few more desperate, crushing thrusts that pushed you over the edge, Ben let out a guttural, triumphant groan. His hips jerked hard against your face as he shot thick, hot cum deep into your throat. "Fuck, yes... take it all, baby," he rasped, his voice shaking with intensity. When he finally pulled away, leaving you gasping and wiping drool from your chin, his expression softened from the brutal dominance to something almost resembling tenderness that only a man like him could muster.
"Swallow every damn drop, y/n. Don't let a single bit go to waste," he ordered, though the harshness in his voice was less pronounced than before. When you complied, licking your lips, he leaned down and caught you under the arms, lifting your trembling body onto his lap. His muscular arms wrapped around your frame, holding you close to his chest until the adrenaline began to fade, replaced by the haze of marijuana.
He kissed your forehead, his beard tickling your skin. "There you go. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he whispered against your temple, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You're a good girl for me, sweetheart. A damn good girl." You relaxed in his embrace. For a moment, it seemed as if the cruel, narcissistic soldier boy had vanished, replaced by a man momentarily satisfied with simply having conquered you. Now you belong to him.
i'm ur #1 fan btw i wish i could keep u locked up in and u would just have to write all day every day. that's weird okay but!!
can u pretty please with a cherry on top write smth literally anything about like lowk pedo dean. like not really just a barely legal girl and he's such a weirdo ugh i love him. also need to suck him off ugh...
a/n— tysm i wish you could too!! 🫶🏼
18+
dean winchester is a pedophile. thats a fact. as a teenager he always liked his girlfriends a bit younger—you know, he was the creepy senior dating freshmen. but as he got older he just didn’t seem to grow out of it. so when he met you… his life changed. a young girl who seemingly got off to your age gap as much as he did? dean thought he had died and went to heaven.
the day you two met he regards as the best day of his life. he had gone to pick sam up from school as he usually does when he spotted you. “hey uh sammy? who’s that girl?” “oh um she’s in my trig class, why?” sam questioned. he knew his brother had a habit of picking up younger girls but he didn’t think he’d go for someone as young as you…
“go ask her if she needs a ride.” he said sternly. sam already knew where this would lead. “dean…” “now.” sam huffed and got out of the car. dean watched him approach you and point to the impala. he saw your cute little smile as you popped up from your spot and grinned. he was hooked.
you entered the backseat quietly as sam got in the front. dean quickly spoke up, telling you to switch seats with him. “dean!” sam yelled. “sam get in the back.” the man spit. so without anymore fuss sam did as he was told. when everyone was settled he quickly started driving, not even bothering to ask you where you lived. “don’t you need her address dean?” sam said snarkily. “well yeah but i figured we’d stop grab a little bite to eat first, what do ‘ya think?” he smirked turning towards you. “that sounds good.” you smiled softly. god, dean thought he could melt. your voice was so softly and syrupy sweet. and your body… jesus i mean you looked like something straight out of the hentai he’d watch on sam’s computer. you were so pretty too. dean would surely regret letting you slip through his fingers.
you guys arrived at some diner about 2 miles from the school. dean held the door open for you as you walked in, what a gentleman. you guys sat in a booth, you and sam on one side dean on the other. “so uh—sammy hear tells me you guys have what? trig together?” dean smirked. he had a sharp toothy sort of grin that reminded you of a fox; dark and cunning hidden in a inviting exterior. you thought it was the sexiest thing you had seen in days. he made small talk while sam rolled his eyes and you giggled. forget trig, i guess you could say you and dean had chemistry? thank you thank you i’ll be here all night!
dean quickly went and dropped sam off before taking you home. in the car you slowly started to make your move. “y’know dean… i’ve always admired guys like you.” “what do you mean guys like me?” he laughed, eyes laser focused on the road. “older guys. i mean the boys in my grade are fine but they’re not as cool as you, ya know?” you asked turning towards him. at that moment everything clicked for him. you were just as into this as he was. you hadn’t been giggling at his endless flirting out of discomfort… you wanted to fuck him.
“uh how old are you?” he asked glancing at you. “sixteen…but i’m really mature for my age! i swear!” dean laughed at your plea. truth be told, he didn’t give a shit how old you were, but he need a bit of deniability. at least he asked! a lot of guys wouldn’t.
“well… you are a bit too young for me but, you know if you keep things between us i guess we can get to know eachother. how does that sound?” he sighed sarcastically. dean wasn’t gonna jump in and fuck you off rip, i mean you are still a lady after all, but, he didn’t mind getting to know you a bit more. after all in the short time he’s known you, you just seem to get more and more perfect. honestly, you were his dream girl. even if you didn’t know it yet he did.
when he dropped you off he wrote his number on your palm. “call me, okay?” “pinky promise.” you grinned kissing his cheek. he tried to ignore the growth in his jeans after that but failed, palming himself through his boxers the entire ride home.
from that day on you were inseparable. it started small with daily phone calls after school and escalated to him picking you up everyday, and eventually sleeping over at his. even on days where sam wouldn’t go to school he’d still be there at 3pm sharp to pick you up. eventually he gathered the courage to ask you out. it was sweet really, he got a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a pink plush teddy bear with a note that said; ‘roses are red, violets are blue, can i spend my life with you?’ it was extremely cheesy but you couldn’t help but cry. obviously you accepted.
dean had never pressured you into anything but you could tell he was getting impatient. you had been together for three months at that point! it was weird you hadn’t even gone past kissing! you had asked him to pick you up saturday for your usual sleepover but this time you had something special planned for him. he thought it was a bit weird you were wearing pajamas when he picked you up instead of your usual clothes but he didn’t question it. you had asked sam to leave ahead of time so by the time you got to his house it was barren. at this point dean was a little creeped out, worrying you were some entity looking to kill him.
“hey babe what’s going on?” he asked a bit wearily. “well you know our three month anniversary is coming up so i figured i’d do something special for you…” suddenly understanding whats going on a smirk spread across deans face. “what kind of special?” he asked throwing you over his shoulder and rushing towards the bedroom. “i want you to take my virginity dean.” he almost came right then and there. “fuck.” he wasted no time pulling your clothes off only to be met with matching pink lingerie underneath. “fuck baby look at this tight little body… you gonna let me see if the rest of ya’s tight too?” he giggled. you looked up at him with your doe-like eyes and nodded.
dean sat on his bed in front of you. even sitting he was still noticeably larger than you. “get on your knees baby.” he said pushing your head down. you did as you were told and looked up at him for further direction. he undid his pants and pulled himself out. you had never seen a cock before but his had to be on the bigger side. he was so thick and long you could barely fit your hands around it. dean gasped watching your small hands grasp him. he didn’t think it was possible for you to get any hotter. “put it in your mouth baby, go ahead.” he guided your head onto his tip, watching the way you mouth enclosed around it. “fuck baby. lick the tip up and down just like that.” you did just that. after a few seconds you wrapped the rest of your mouth around his shaft as he gripped your crown. dean slowly started bobbing your head up and down and got increasingly more erratic with his movements. soon he was fucking your throat, using you completely to his disposal. you started gagging around him but he just kept going. he was so close, he couldn’t stop now. “shit, play with my balls baby fuck! i’m so close! c’mon you’re doing so good!” he groaned. you used the hand that wasn’t bracing yourself on the floor to grab his balls and fondle them. “fuck i’m gonna cum! keep going baby just like that!” he pushed your head closer to him. you could feel his tip throb against the back of your throat. soon your mouth was filled with a thick salty liquid, honestly it was pretty gross. “go ahead and swallow baby.” dean grinned. naturally, wanting to please your boyfriend you did.
“where’d you learn that? clearly it wasn’t your first time sucking dick.” he laughed. “i asked sam to show me some porn on his computer last week when i came… y’know… for research.” you said suspiciously. “you’re too young to be watching porn baby. little girls shouldn’t be looking at naughty stuff like that.” he smirked patting your head. “anyways do you have a condom?” “dean!”
I feel like if dean would ever settle down with a girl she would be younger and he would take full advantage of her being naive and force and manipulate her into stuff she doesn’t want 👀 thoughts?
18+
when dean decides he’s gonna finally settle down he goes through a list of qualities he likes in women. dean likes them young, he likes them stupid, but most of all he likes them docile. his dream wife’s probably some barely legal mormon girl who’s never seen a penis before. he’s such a creep; he’s scouting highschool and college parties for the stupidest girl he can find.
that’s when his eyes drop to you. you’re sitting on the kitchen counter at some frat house, too naive to realize he has a perfect eyeful of your panties right now. you must’ve been so naive that you didn’t even realize your dress was way too short. it also doesn’t help you’re too drunk to cross your legs. dean had to get you out of there before someone took advantage of you… before they took advantage of his wife.
“hey baby come on it’s time for you to go home,” he mumbled throwing you over his shoulder. “hey! who the fuck are you? we were talking man!” some frat dude yelled. “i’m her husband dickhead,” dean yelled behind him as he continued walking with you. “what a prick…” some guy mumbled. dean finally made it outside and dumped you in the passenger seat of the impala. by the time you realized where you were it was too late. the man had brought you to some shitty motel. it didn’t take long for him to realize you were conscious. “if you try to leave i’ll gut you like a fish you hear me bitch?” you looked at him with wide eyes. too afraid to say anything you simply nodded and turned to face the wall.
you were pretty out of it but you could make out a dark looming figure standing above you. did you die and go to hell? with a swift push dean knocked you on your back. before you could register what he was doing his hands were already making its way up to cup the panties he got a sneak peek of earlier. “wait no p-please sir! please don’t do this! i won’t tell anyone i swear!” it was so cute how you begged. dean could smell the fear oozing from your pores, it only turned him on more. “what’re you a fuckin virgin?” he asked. again you just nodded. “oh now im really gonna keep you. listen baby, if you stay with me we can be so happy together. you know i’m getting old, i gotta start a family before its too late. so just let me take care of you baby. can you do that?” afraid of what he might do next, you once again just nodded in agreement.
from that day forward you were deans live in wife. you did whatever he’d ask. your colleagues hadn’t heard from you in months. it was really weird you were the second stanford student to disappear after leaving with this guy… none of that mattered anymore though. you were the perfect wife… maybe soon he’ll let you go.
„Oh come on you wanted this didn’t you?“ Ben groans in your ear when he sees the tears slip down your cheeks. The wall of the alleyway he’s got you pressed up against is cold and slightly damp from the rain a few hours ago. „You don’t get to walk around like a whore and then cry when someone treats you like one.“ his words are followed by the sound of him unbuckling his belt.
„Please please don’t do this-“ you cry out again but instead of understanding you’re met with a hand over your mouth to quiet you down. You feel him rip down your pants in one harsh motion next and then his finger right between your legs. „Oh shit, you’re into this.“ he says and for a moment you ask yourself where the hell he got that from. But then you feel it, the wetness pooling between your legs and your own body betraying you.
And he was right, in some fucked up way you loved the attention you were getting but you also were too proud to admit it. Finally you feel him push into you. He’s big, like really fucking big. The stretch burns at first, sharp and going through your whole body.
„See I know what she likes.“ he says in this low and kinda grossly affectionate way. His hand finds your hip when he’s finally fully buried inside of you, the stretch is sharp and now kinda dull but so so good. You hate whatever is working against the logical part of your brain because something definitely is. How could you even enjoy this? But shit you do.
You feel his balls slap against your clit when he starts moving. He’s literally massive in a way that makes you worry if he won’t actually fucking split you in half. „God baby you look so pretty on my cock.“ he says it in a way that makes it almost sound like a compliment but you know better than that.
His hand finds your throat and gives it a tight squeeze, cutting your air and blood of for a bit too long. You start to get dizzy and feel your body almost giving in but just then he loses his grip just a tad. „Don’t want a passing out on me huh. Gonna make you watch how I put a fucking baby in you.“ his words, or maybe the lack of air, make your tear up again.
„Shh you know there’s nothing you can do so just enjoy it.“ Ben makes the words almost sound calming in some way but it really isn’t helping much.
You feel him almost up in your stomach but the feeling gives you whatever you need because soon you start to feel that feeling pool in door lower belly. You’re actually about to come from this, what the hell is your problem. But god he does feel pretty good inside of you.
Ben notices you clenching around him harder each time and it makes him pick up his pace, his hand closes around your throat again and just as your about to pass out the lack of oxygen sends you over the edge. You let out a few high pitched moans before his hand comes from your throat up to hold your mouth shut, he really doesn’t need anyone hearing your pathetic sounds. He’s the only one who should get to hear them.
It doesn’t take long for his to follow suit, he pushes impossible deep and paints your warm walls white of thick ropes of his cum. He stays inside of your for a second before pulling out slowly, taking a quick look at his work before zipping up.
Hi guys whats up? How you doing? We’re cool over here right?
Summary: You are stuck at your dad’s pool party after cleaning all day, Soldier boy - your dad’s hot best friend can’t keep his eyes off you in your white bikini.
৻ꪆ Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, large age gap, virginity loss, rough sex, finger sucking, forbidden sex, alcohol mentioned, risk of getting caught.
wc: 3.5k
The backyard pavement was warm against your thighs as you sat at the edge of the pool, toes lazily dragging through the water. The late afternoon sun still burned hot overhead, but it did nothing to improve your mood.
“Hey, go tell your aunt and uncle hi,” your dad called, nodding toward the group clustered near the grill.
You sighed heavily, pushing yourself up. You’d been in a bad mood all evening, your dad had made you clean the entire house top to bottom because his “friends” were coming over. Every bathroom, every countertop, every damn floor. All for a stupid pool party. But at least Ben would be there.
Ben. Your dad’s closest friend for as long as you could remember. You’d grown up around him, trailing after the two of them like a shadow. He was practically an uncle to you.
But God, was he cute.
Once you’d said your polite hellos to your aunts and uncles (smiling through the small talk while your mood simmered), your dad waved you over again. “Go check the mail, will you? Should be here by now.”
You slipped on your sandals and skipped toward the front yard, grateful for any excuse to get away from the noise for a minute. You adjusted your white babydoll top, tugging it into place, then rolled the waistband of your jean shorts once more so they sat even higher on your thighs. The second you reached the front yard, a familiar truck rumbled up the driveway.
Your stomach flipped.
Soldier Boy hopped out of the driver’s side, all broad shoulders and cocky posture. He looked unfairly good, black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, jeans slung low.
You gulped, heart picking up speed, and lifted a hand to shield your eyes from the sun.
“Hey, Ben,” you called, trying to sound casual.
He slammed the truck door with a grunt, the sound sharp in the quiet front yard. His eyes flicked up and immediately dragged down your body, taking in the tiny white top and the shortened jean shorts, before settling on your face.
“Hey, kid.” His voice was rough, low, the same gruff tone you’d heard since you were little. But this time it felt different. He didn’t move right away, just stood there staring a beat too long. “The fuck you wearing?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. “It’s a pool party,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
Ben huffed a laugh, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He stepped closer, boots crunching on the gravel, until he was towering over you. Up close he smelled like leather seats, faint cigar smoke, and something warm and masculine that made your pulse stutter.
He reached out and tugged lightly at the hem of your babydoll top, straightening it with a gentleness that didn’t match the asshole smirk on his face. His knuckles brushed just below your ribs. “You’ve been cleaning all day, right? Your dad mentioned it. Poor thing.”
The same man who could level buildings without blinking still noticed when you were in a shit mood.
“Yeah, well, I’m over it,” you muttered, glancing up at him.
Then Ben straightened up, clearing his throat. “C’mon, kid. Before your daddy starts to worry,”
He started walking toward the backyard, but not before his hand brushed the small of your back, light, lingering, and definitely not uncle-like.
You followed Ben toward the backyard, cheeks still burning from that lingering touch on your lower back. The party noise hit you again, laughter, music, the splash of water.
“Oh hey Ben!” your dad called out, waving him over with a big grin.
Ben nodded, he walked over to clap hands with your dad like they’d just seen each other yesterday instead of months ago. You hung back, sighing as you scanned the yard. Your cousins were running around screaming, way too young to talk to. Your aunts and uncles were clustered in lawn chairs, gossiping about things you couldn’t care less about. No one here was your age. It sucked.
You wanted nothing more than to disappear upstairs, crawl into bed, and doomscroll on your phone until your eyes hurt. But no, your stupid dad had taken it earlier “so you’d be social.”
“Kid, go swim with your cousins,” your dad suddenly yelled across the yard, giving you a pointed glare before taking a long sip of his beer.
You groaned loudly. “I don’t wanna change, and my swimsuit’s in the house,” you argued, giving him your best sad-puppy look.
Your dad wasn’t having it. “Go. Now.” He pointed firmly toward the house.
You let out a frustrated huff, spinning on your heels and storming off across the grass. You could feel eyes on you, probably half the party, but the only gaze that actually made your skin prickle was Ben’s. You didn’t turn around to check, but you swore you felt it burning into your back.
The cool air inside the house was a relief after the sticky heat. You slammed the back door a little harder than necessary and headed upstairs toward your room, muttering under your breath the whole way. Stupid party. Stupid chores. Stupid–
“You throw that door any harder and it’s gonna come off the hinges.”
You froze halfway up the stairs. Ben’s voice stopped you cold. He’d followed you inside. Of course he had.
He leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you. But his eyes weren’t mocking. Not entirely.
“Bad mood still going strong, huh?” he asked, tilting his head. “Your dad’s just trying to get you out there.”
You turned to face him fully, “I don’t want to swim with a bunch of little kids. I just wanted to stay on my phone and be left alone. But apparently that’s a crime.”
Ben pushed off the wall and slowly climbed a couple steps, stopping just below you so you were almost eye-level. He was close again. Too close. The scent of him filled the narrow stairwell.
“Poor little princess,” he murmured, voice dripping with a teasing tone. “You’ve been running around cleaning this place all day for your old man. Least he could do is cut you some slack.” His gaze dropped to your legs for a second before flicking back up.
You swallowed, heart hammering. He was right there, practically an uncle, your dad’s best friend, and yet the way he was looking at you right now felt anything but familial.
“You gonna rat me out if I hide up here for a while?” you asked, half-joking.
He reached up and lightly flicked the strap of your babydoll top back into place, his fingers brushing your shoulder.
“Nah. I’ll cover for you… for a minute.” His voice dropped, “But you keep giving me that attitude? Might change my mind, sweetheart. I’ll have to drag you back out there myself.”
He lingered on the stairs, eyes locked on yours, the tension thick enough to taste. The distant sound of the party filtered through the walls, but right now it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the house.
You nodded quickly, heart still racing from the way Ben had been looking at you on the stairs. You turned and rushed back up the rest of the steps, gulping as you practically sprinted to your room.
Inside, you stripped fast and slipped into your white bikini, the one that matched your freshly painted nails. The top tied neatly behind your neck and the bottoms sat high on your hips. You threw your hair up into a messy ponytail, gave yourself one quick look in the mirror, and ran back downstairs before you could overthink it.
Thank God Ben was already back outside when you stepped into the yard again.
You sighed in relief, kicked off your sandals, and dipped your feet into the cool water at the edge of the pool. The chill felt good against your heated skin.
“Good, thank you,” your dad said, walking over and patting your back. “Sorry for being hard on you, hun.”
You smiled up at him, surprised by the apology. Then your eyes flicked over to Ben.
He was sitting in a lawn chair a few feet away, beer in hand, staring daggers at your dad. His jaw was tight, shoulders tense. When he caught you looking, his expression shifted, just slightly, but that intense gaze stayed on you now, slowly dragging down the white bikini and back up again.
You raised a brow. Your dad let out a long sigh and took another swig of his beer, relaxing back into his chair.
“Ben told me to be easier on you. He’s right,” your dad admitted with a small chuckle, completely oblivious to the way his best friend was still watching you. “Guess I’ve been riding you too hard today.”
You smiled softly and looked away, warmth blooming in your chest. Ben had actually said something to your dad for you?
Before you could think too much about it, your little cousins came running up, giggling as they tugged at your messy ponytail and tried to climb onto your back.
“You’re so pretty!” one of them squealed, playing with the ends of your hair like you were their personal doll. “Come play with us!”
You laughed despite yourself, letting them pull you a little further into the shallow end. The water lapped around your thighs as you crouched down to their level, trying to entertain them. But you could still feel it, his stare.
Ben hadn’t stopped watching you.
Every time you bent over to pick one of the kids up or when the water made your bikini cling tighter, you caught him. He was leaned back in his chair pretending to listen to whatever your dad was saying, but his eyes kept cutting back to you. Dark. Hungry. A little pissed off, like he hated how much he was staring.
At one point your dad got up to grab more drinks, leaving Ben alone for a moment. He didn’t waste it.
He stood up slowly and strolled over to the edge of the pool, towering above you. The afternoon sun glowed behind him, making him look even bigger.
“White bikini, huh?” he muttered, voice low enough that only you could hear. “Matching the nails and everything. You trying to kill me today, kid?”
You glanced up at him, still holding one of your cousins on your hip. “Thought you said I should swim.”
“I said you should listen to your dad. Didn’t say you should come out here looking like a fucking dream and torture the rest of us.” He crouched down, closer to your level, eyes flicking to the cousins before returning to you. “You good now? Or still pissed?”
One of your cousins tried to splash him. Ben just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, which made the kid giggle harder.
You bit your lip to hide a smile. “I’m… better. Thanks for talking to my dad.”
Ben grunted, looking away like it was nothing. “Yeah, well. Somebody had to. Can’t have you sulking around all night in that outfit.” He paused, then added quieter, almost reluctantly, “You look good, sweetheart. Real good.”
He straightened up before your dad could come back, but not before his fingers brushed the top of your messy ponytail, quick, almost gentle, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching you.
The tension between you two was getting harder to ignore with every passing minute.
As the sun began to dip lower, painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks, your cousins started getting sleepy and cranky. One by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes and heading out. The backyard slowly emptied until it was just the fading music, scattered cups, and some family left.
You sat on the edge of the pool again, towel wrapped low around your waist, eating a slice of cold watermelon while you watched the sunset. The juice dripped down your fingers as you tried to enjoy the quiet.
Ben had been sitting across the yard, pretending to listen while your dad chatted with your aunts and uncles. The second they headed toward the gate, he got up and walked over to you. Without a word, he dropped down beside you and draped a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you in against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Hey, kid,” he said with a long sigh, leaning back on his other hand.
“Hi,” you answered softly, taking another bite of watermelon.
“You have fun today?” He tilted his head, looking at you.
You nodded, still staring at the sunset instead of meeting his eyes. Your heart was beating too fast with him this close, his warm skin against your bare shoulder.
“Good,” he murmured, voice dropping low as he leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I had fun lookin’ at you.”
You blushed hard, finally turning to face him. “Good view?” you giggled, setting the watermelon rind down and reaching up to wipe the sticky juice off your cheek.
Ben beat you to it.
His thumb brushed across your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth, slow and deliberate, wiping the juice away. His touch lingered a second longer than it needed to, the rough pad of his thumb dragging lightly over your soft skin. The way he was looking at you made heat pool low in your stomach.
You blushed even deeper and turned away, suddenly very interested in the sunset again.
Ben chuckled under his breath, but didn’t pull his arm off your shoulders. “I’m too drunk to drive home,” he grunted after a moment. “Gonna crash on your couch.”
You looked up at him and nodded. “Oh, okay.”
“Say bye to your family, then I’ll give you your phone,” your dad called out from across the yard.
You stood up with a sigh, letting the towel drop to the ground. The white bikini felt even smaller now with the way Ben’s eyes followed the movement. You gave quick hugs to the last of your family, smiling politely as they complimented how grown up you looked.
Your dad handed your phone back with a tired sigh. “Go to bed at a reasonable time. I’m gonna hit the hay, Ben.”
Ben nodded, cracking open another beer. “I’ll be in right behind ya. Gonna help clean up.”
Your dad clapped him on the shoulder gratefully and headed inside, the back door clicking shut behind him.
Now it was just you and Ben.
The backyard was quiet except for the low hum of the pool filter and the distant sound of crickets. Ben stood up slowly, towering over you again. His gaze traveled down your body, bikini still damp, skin glowing in the sunset, before flicking back to your face.
“Help me clean, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “That’s what I told him.” His voice was lower now, rougher. “But we both know I’ve got other plans tonight, sweetheart.”
His hand came up, fingers lightly tugging on your messy ponytail, tilting your head back just enough so you had to look at him. The tension that had been building all day was finally starting to snap.
“Still think I’m just your dad’s asshole friend?” he asked, thumb brushing your jaw. “Or are you finally catching up?”
“Kinda both,” you giggled, the words barely out before you leaned up and kissed him.
Ben froze for half a second like he hadn’t expected you to actually do it. Then a low, hungry sound rumbled in his chest and he kissed you back hard, his big hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place. His mouth was hot, demanding, tasting like beer and the sunset. The kiss quickly turned filthy, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming, while his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your barely-covered body flush against him.
“Fuck, kid,” he growled against your lips when you finally broke for air. “You sure you know what you’re starting?”
You nodded, breathing fast, lips already swollen. “I want it… I want you.”
That was all it took.
Ben kissed you again, deeper this time, walking you backward across the yard until your back hit the side of the house. One of his thick thighs pressed between your legs, and you whimpered into his mouth at the sudden pressure. His hand slid down, squeezing your ass possessively over the wet bikini bottoms.
“Inside. Now,” he muttered, nipping at your bottom lip. “Before I bend you over right here where your dad could walk out.”
He barely gave you time to think before he was guiding you through the back door, one arm still locked around your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you. The house was dark and quiet, your dad already upstairs and snoring. Ben didn’t bother turning on any lights. He pushed you into the downstairs bathroom, locking the door behind him with a click that sounded way too loud in the silence.
The second the lock turned he was on you again.
He lifted you onto the counter like you weighed nothing, stepping between your spread thighs. His mouth crashed back into yours while his hands roamed, squeezing your tits through the thin white bikini top, thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples until you moaned.
“Been thinking about this all fucking day,” he rasped, kissing down your neck, sucking lightly on your pulse point. “Watching you prance around in that tiny bikini, acting all innocent. You have any idea what you do to me?”
His hand slipped between your legs, rubbing you over the bikini bottoms. You were already soaked, and not just from the pool. Ben groaned when he felt it.
“Shit… you’re dripping for me, sweetheart.”
You whimpered, suddenly shy despite how badly you wanted this. “Ben… I’ve never… I’m still a virgin.”
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark but surprisingly soft for a second. “Yeah? You sure you want your first time to be with an old asshole like me?”
You nodded quickly, pulling him back in by his shirt. “I want you.”
“Fuck.” He kissed you slower this time, almost tender, then got that cocky smirk back. “I’ll take care of you. But I’m still gonna ruin you for anyone else.”
He tugged your bikini top down, freeing your breasts, and latched his mouth onto one nipple while his hand worked the other. You gasped, fingers threading through his hair. Then he pulled back, bringing two thick fingers to your lips.
“Open.”
You obeyed, taking them into your mouth. Ben’s eyes darkened as you sucked on them, tongue swirling around the digits the way you thought he might like. He groaned low.
“That’s it… good girl. Get them nice and wet.”
When he finally pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingers, he pushed your bikini bottoms to the side and slowly slid one finger into you. You tensed at the stretch, but he kissed you through it, murmuring against your mouth.
“Relax, baby. Just breathe. I got you.”
He worked you open carefully, adding a second finger after a minute, curling them just right until your hips started rocking against his hand. The wet sounds echoed obscenely in the small bathroom. His thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles, and you cried out, thighs shaking.
“Ben, fuck,”
“Yeah? Feel good?” He pumped his fingers faster, scissoring them gently. “Gonna make you come on my fingers first. Then I’m fucking you properly.”
You came hard a minute later, clenching around his fingers, moaning into his neck as he kissed your temple and whispered filthy praise.
He didn’t give you much time to recover. He shoved his shorts down, his thick, heavy cock springing free. You stared, a little nervous at the size, but so turned on it hurt.
Ben noticed. He stroked himself slowly, then lifted your chin.
“You can take it. I’ll go slow at first.”
He lined up and pushed in inch by inch, stretching you open. It burned, but the burn felt good mixed with the overwhelming fullness. Ben groaned deeply, forehead pressed to yours, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.
“Fuck… so tight. Such a good little virgin for me.”
Once he bottomed out he stayed still, kissing you softly until you started squirming, needing more. Then he started moving, deep, steady thrusts that gradually got rougher. Not too rough, but enough that the counter creaked beneath you and your moans filled the bathroom.
He fucked you like he’d been dying to all day: one hand in your messy ponytail, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you wider. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside you until you were clawing at his back.
“Look at me while I fuck you,” he growled, voice strained.
You did, eyes locked on his as another orgasm crashed over you. Ben followed right after, burying himself deep and coming with a low, broken groan of your name.
He stayed inside you for a long moment after, both of you breathing hard. Then he kissed you again, slow and surprisingly sweet, before gently pulling out.
“Shit, kid…” He rested his forehead against yours, thumb stroking your cheek. “You okay?”
You nodded, dazed and glowing. “Yeah… really okay.”
Summary: You’re given the job of babysitting Soldier Boy, keeping him out of public view and only in your sight. Being in a desolate cabin is boring though, and the two of you pick up a game that isn’t as much fun for you as it is for him.
♡ warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, slapping, punching-ish, bruising, spit, crying, lots of dirty talk, degrading (bitch, whore, slut), he's soldier boy idk what you expect, trigger warning, clear consent, reader insert, no mentions of y/n.
wc: 3.6k | i'm sorry in advance for what you're going to read... but the soldier boy girlies were yelling at me to do it and i gladly want to! if u want more older bf fan fics like this (mean and SCARY) lmk!!
You’re not exactly sure when the game of cat and mouse started, but it definitely did.
Hiding in the middle of nowhere, a cabin down a dark trail accessible only to lost hikers gave you and Soldier Boy free rein in the forest: a vast, dark expanse of thick tree trunks, tall grass, and rocks. It was pure seclusion from society.
The job was handed to you: looking after Soldier Boy, his babysitter. It was vague, the instructions you were given: keep him out of public, and do not let him out of your fucking sight. Those were the rules applied to him, and you were the one who upheld them.
It all started the first time you let him outside. He had been suspiciously nice that morning; not making sly comments about your ass, or questioning why he hadn’t fucked you yet despite the small cabin the two of you were forced to live in.
You were idly walking ahead of him, minding your business, kicking rocks and picking up stray flowers. He watched you from behind, his mind conjuring thoughts you’d probably slap him for: how quickly you’d have to run to escape, or the way you’d look against a pine tree, that stupid dress you always wore, hiked up.
You played into it accidentally, slightly running ahead when you spotted a patch of uneven mushrooms and curiously analyzing the fungi. Now he was a few feet back behind you, and it gave you the silliest idea to sprint ahead. And so you did.
He immediately ran right after you through the woods, listening to your loud laughs–you didn’t know he was serious, and he was that fucking eager to catch up to you. You were quick on your feet, easily hopping over the scattered debris, and it was the most adrenaline he had felt in a long time. Just the thought of chasing you down like you were a prize had him moving quicker than you, firm hands catching your waist and pulling you down onto the dirt.
It was the most adrenaline you'd ever felt, too; his hands bunching your dress, devouring you right there against the forest floor, a dark sky full of stars above you, both of you tapping into some primal sense you'd suppressed until that very moment.
Since then, it had almost become a ritual. You’d slip out of the cabin after he’d randomly announce you had a minute head start, sometimes lucky enough to receive a minute and a half. You had zero time to change, sometimes even wandering out in bare feet when he was feeling like an asshole, which was most of the time, forcing you to run through the forest in nothing but a nightgown and bare feet. And that was the case for tonight.
“Thirty… thirty seconds?” you ask in surprise, gazing at Ben, who sits on the couch, lazily smoking a joint, the words completely out of the blue.
You’re staring at him, blinking; he’s completely unbothered, rubbing the scruff he hasn’t shaved in a while.
“Said thirty seconds, didn’t I, doll?” he drawls casually, a plume of smoke slipping by his lips. “Twenty-two... Twenty-one…” he begins to taunt, and your eyes widen. He was already counting.
You curse quietly to yourself, trying to ignore just how truly excited you are to venture out into the forest this late at night, knowing a predator would be on your heels in just twenty seconds if you didn’t run quickly enough.
The night air is cold and sharp against your warm skin, and your cotton nightgown does little to shield you from it. Goosebumps prick your thighs and arms, and you’re already starting a light jog, bare feet running along the hard ground, soon feeling sticks and sharp gravel beneath them as you stray further and further from the cabin.
The night sky is cloudy tonight, the stars barely hanging above, leaving the forest just a bit darker than usual. You pant softly when you begin to pick up the speed, glancing over your shoulder, the porch light flicking off–that was a signal; Ben was leaving the cabin now, and you were just about twenty feet away.
You move more quickly, limbs swift, and weave through the branches, twigs catching on your cotton nightgown. You groan with each soft rip, realizing you've accidentally wandered into a dense thicket of branches and thorns.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he taunts aloud, loud enough for you to hear. “Don’t be a dumb bitch like last time, pickin’ the worst fuckin’ spots known to man,” he calls out, and you swallow hard.
You grimace, eyes narrowed, trying to navigate your way through the unfortunate area you sound yourself. Your feet are muddy, dense branches pressing into the bottom of your feet, and you look over your shoulder, the cabin completely out of sight.
Ben is wandering around slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any sign of you; he can smell you, that sweet scent he smells every single day, and it smells even better when it’s mixed with the obvious fear of scent, too.
There was fear wrapped into the entirety of it–a twisted sense of it, mingling with the excitement. You knew he was a powerful man, hands big enough to snap you in half, and you’ve seen the bruises he leaves you with, how relentless a single man can be, pounding into you like it’s all he can do–it is; he’s been stuck out here for god knows how long, and this is the only piece of entertainment he gets. And it’s from you.
“Not even makin’ this fun for me anymore,” he mumbles, and you can hear his voice getting louder, and you’re on your hands and knees. “Lazy whore, just wantin’ me to fuck her without playing the actual part of the game–not how you play it,” he drawls out, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
You move on your hands and knees, feeling the twigs grasping at your nightgown, slicing the white fabric, and you whimper each time a sharp rock grounds itself into your hands and knees. You keep crawling, staying lower to the forest floor, panting, adrenaline coursing through you, actual fear filling your chest. He’s threatened to kill you more times than you want to remember.
“Can smell you, you know,” he taunts again, and you hold your breath as you hear twigs crunch beneath his feet. “Fear, and how wet your fuckin’ panties are right now, all excited, ain’t ya?” he practically laughs, and you grimace in disgust, his words sharp.
You swallow hard and keep crawling on your hands and knees, shuffling, and you can hear his footsteps growing louder. You breathe heavier, ducking your head, much too afraid to look behind you and find that man looming over you–he’s so tall, and muscle, and taut skin against him, and you bite your lip.
“What should I do with that little body of yours, once I find you?” Ben calls out, and you freeze. “Fuckin’ your mouth this time sound fun? Maybe usin’ every hole of yours,” he clicks his tongue, and freezes too, scoping out his surroundings.
You cover your mouth and hold your breath, hearing his steps suddenly quicken as he's somehow caught your scent like a rabid dog, and he walks right by you. Your eyes widen when you see him slightly; just his large feet, the soft grunts from him, and you glance up, seeing his face; his eyes are narrowed, nostrils flared, but he’s mostly hidden. It’s too dark.
“Can’t wait to see that look on your face.” he pauses again, inhaling, trying to smell you. “All scared n’ helpless lookin’ like a deer caught in headlights–makes me wanna fuck your brains out, hope you know that,” he mocks, and you shake your head.
You inch backwards once you know he’s slightly ahead of you, somehow missing your form hidden under a few branches and twigs. You gulp, feeling a thorn catching on your dress again, and it rips. You wince, glance over, and Ben is gone; you freeze again.
Two large hands reach down and grab you by the hips, and you let out a loud squeal; Ben knocks you off balance. The minute you’re on your stomach, he doesn’t hesitate to reach down and grab your ankles instead, shamelessly dragging you by them, and you’re already whining, trying to grasp at the dirt and twigs.
“Hid in the worst fuckin’ spot, again,” he spits, pulling you out of the little spot. “Just wantin’ me to find ya’, huh? Could just ask me to fuck you, instead of bein’ a prude all god damn day,” he grumbles out, letting go of your ankles.
He doesn’t let you go, though. Instead, he kneels into the dirt, his knee pressing into your lower back, and he presses his hand on the back of your head, forcing your face into the cold dirt. You mumble something into the ground, your legs squirming, and he looks at the way you shift and squirm, and he shakes his head.
“Watchin’ this is the best part sometimes,” Ben drawls, watching your hands try to push off the ground, but he purposely digs his knee into your back. “Just fuckin’ hopeless, squirmin’ around like an animal caught in a trap.”
You whine and shake your head, and he purposely pushes your head down again, this time knocking it forward, and it sends stars behind your eyes at the roughness of it. He watches the squirming lessen in real time, and he licks his lips, easing his knee off your lower back.
He twists his hand into your hair, pulling your face out of the dirt, and he glances at you; your cheeks covered in tears, and dirt smeared across your face, a painful throbbing at the corner of your head. He laughs, clicking his tongue in admiration.
“Lookin’ your best, too,” Ben quips, his eyes raking over your face. “Cryin’ like you’re not the slut who gets excited for this shit; it’s pathetic, actin’ like you’re not soaked right now.”
You whimper and look away from Ben, and he moves his knee completely off your back. He’s all strong and rough, and his hand slides down, lifting right beneath your stomach, scooping you off the ground and tossing you over his shoulder. This strength comes with his supe abilities, and you learned it through this.
You squirm and kick your legs, and he has a wolfish grin as he walks through the forest, hearing the soft whines and groans as you try to free yourself from his grip.
“Keep kickin’, doll, I want you to,” he mocks your failed attempts and keeps moving through the woods, taking you further and further away from the cabin.
You’re not speaking, just making those sounds like a wounded animal; all whines and soft whimpers, and he’s the wolf about to feast on whatever is left. You lightly hit his back, and he lands a harsh slap on your ass.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He curses out, finding a slightly open patch, and your body is quick to hit the ground. He merely tosses you onto the ground, not bothering to lower you.
You hit the dirt with a thud, wide eyes looking up at him, and you’re panting, shuffling back until your back hits the base of a tree trunk. He smirks, tilting his head to the side.
“Stop puttin’ on this show,” he shakes his head, inching closer to you. “Crawlin’ away, actin’ like a frightened little girl,” he narrows his eyes, reaching down and grabbing you by the ankles again.
You almost scream this time—it gets caught in the back of your throat, and he drags you towards him, forcing your thighs to part and your nightgown to hitch you to your hips. He gazes down, nudging his way between your legs, and he sees the glistening slick against your underwear. The moon is coming out, and it hits it perfectly.
“Would a frightened lil’ thing be drippin’ like this?” Ben asks, glancing up at you, and he harshly slaps your core. “No, she wouldn’t—lyin’ bitch,” he mumbles, and then he spits, soothing the sting with his own saliva.
You wail and tip your head back, and whine even louder when his strong hand rips the underwear right off you. Another reminder of his supe strength, the cotton breaking and ripping right off your body, and he’s staring down at your bare lower half.
“Just fuckin’ soaked,” he groans again, inhaling the sweet scent he could smell from miles away. “And you’re cryin’ like I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong, and your body ain’t a hole for me to rip apart.”
You whimper, and he lands another slap against your core. It stings more this time, a faint burning, and you wince, your toes curling into the dirt, and he grins. He stares into your eyes, gathering saliva in his mouth, and then he spits right down again, and you moan the minute it hits you.
Ben’s fingers slide into you with ease, zero hesitation in the movement, and you gasp out, your back arching off the cold ground. His other hand holds your thigh, forcing you open.
“Clenchin’ around me already,” he curses out, letting two fingers curl and hook, finding that soft spot immediately, all spongy and warm. “This why you act like such a stupid slut? Hidin’ in the open, makin’ it easier for me to find you?” He ticks his head.
You’re already in another world, feeling a third finger slide in and you squeeze, and he scoffs at the feeling around the digits—he finds it amusing how much you want him, yet how you flailed around and whined, acting like every instinct wasn’t for him.
“Three fingers deep, and she’s wantin’ more,” Ben shakes his head, wetting his lips. “Think she can take five, doll? My whole fist in her?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, and you’re shaking your head, whimpering.
His fourth finger slides in, but his thumb refuses. Instead, it finds your clit that still has his saliva glistening against it, and he rubs it into you, and you’re moaning louder. He watches, your face comforting, eyes rolling back, back arching.
“Can’t believe you were runnin’ from me,” he mumbles and shakes his head, this time landing spit on your face,e and you wince. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this, and now you’re squeezin’ around my fingers, takin’ me in.”
You can feel his spit dripping down your face and you whine, shaking your head, feeling it slide onto your lips. You lap it up and Ben watches, narrowed eyes.
“Yeah… whinin’ about my spit, too,” he stares at you. “Meanwhile, got my whole fuckin’ hand inside of you.”
Ben pulls his fingers out of you, and you instantly gasp when you don’t feel it anymore, that full pressure. He lands another slap against your core, whining louder now that it’s sensitive and tender, all raw. He smirks at the look on your face, and you shift against the ground.
He lifts his hand and slides his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself, and he’s doing it on purpose, making sure you’re gagging—he’s got them halfway down your throat, and you’re choking, tasting yourself. You close your eyes and claw at the ground.
“Taste that, sweetheart?” He taunts, pulling his fingers out to hear you choke when they finally slide out. “How fuckin’ wet you are, yet you keep kickin’ around like a scared bitch.”
You look up at Ben when he briefly pauses, and he’s carefully unbuckling his pants, slowly moving onto his zipper and pulling them down with zero hesitation.
“You miss this, doll? Miss this fuckin’ you?” He coos, taunting even more. “My fingers not enough for you? My knee not enough for how greedy you are?”
You shake your head, biting your lip, glancing down when he takes himself out of his pants; long, hard, and you can tell he’s just throbbing. You remember the first time you saw him like this, and he couldn’t stop laughing and mocking you; your eyes blown out in shock, and you kept asking if he was sure if it would fit. He didn’t reassure you.
“Lookin’ like the first time you saw my cock,” Ben drawls, his hand wrapped around the base. “Looked like you saw a fuckin’ ghost, dumbest thing I’ve seen, until you told me… a virgin,” he grins, and you look away, already feel shameful about him taking your virginity.
“Let me defile you like a bitch I’d pick off the street,” he says, leaning a bit closer to you, nudging between your thoughts. “First time meant to be slow, sweetheart… a special thing between two people n’ you let me rip you open, like you’re nothin’, a whore. And you are.”
Ben uses the soft spot for leverage, and he thrusts into you, always loving that look on your face; the wide eyes and the parted lips, the way you slowly slip into a headspace of nothingness. Just need and want, a twisted desperation for a man who is just as desperate, and doesn’t hide it. Not at all.
“Yeah… yeah, missed stuffin’ this pretty hole,” he growls, two hands finding your hips, the grip absolutely bruising, and he’s pressing over old ones. “Grips around me… like she was meant for me. Think she was meant for me, baby?”
Your head is lolled back, and your eyes are rolled back into your head as Ben trusts and thrusts, hard, quick motions that are unforgiving and relentless. Your nightgown is all hiked up, and his hand drifts down, holding beneath where your knee bends, giving him an angle that has noises you’ve never heard before leaving your mouth.
“Whatcha’ think, doll?” Ben started, groaning as his own head tips back and he licks his lip. “Should I let you cum tonight? Or should… I make you hold it, all in.”
You whine when he threatens not to let you finish, something he’s done before, and it was the most agonizing thing ever, especially when he’s so big. So, so big, and he does it all so well.
Ben’s hand slides up your thighs a little more, and you immediately whimper the second he pushes on your lower abdomen, letting his fist drive into it.
“Gonna piss you’re so scared, yeah?” He asks, pushing hard onto your stomach, and you whimper, squirming. “Don’t be a dirty girl… nobody likes a messy bitch, you know this.”
It’s hard to think when there’s pressure everywhere; his hand on your stomach, the pressure from it, how hard he’s thrusting, the trees creaking and groaning, the smell of dirt and the water from the small creek trickling by. You’re in another world, and Ben is taking whatever it is out on you.
“You’ll be pissin’ on me, before cummin’, get that through your head,” he hisses, briefly lifting his hand to slap the side of your cheek. “Know how thick that skull is.”
You whine at the stinging, and there it comes, the soothing of his spit against your face, and you grimace, and he loves that look; the fake disgust, like you aren’t waiting for this to be done so that you can do the whole thing again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day.
“You’re gonna let me stuff you,” Ben says, leaving you no room to protest. “Gonna make you leak everywhere, all down these thighs,” he says, slapping the side of your thigh.
He never tells you when he’s going to finish, never gives you a heads up, but you know it—he’s groaning and grunting and growling, every animalistic urge surging through Ben’s body. And then it comes, that feeling in your stomach.
You’re not sure what it is, but he cums, and cums, and cums, a never-ending stream spilling inside of you, and he basks in it. The way you’re helplessly whining and shaking your head, asking how he has so much inside of him—he’s a fucking supe, and he’ll say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the fucking world.
Why would he not have a supply that could stuff you until you’re begging for him to stop?
Ben pauses, burying deep inside of you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, his beard brushing and poking at your skin, all rough and hard. He lightly thrusts, letting his cum push deeper and deeper, forcing it in to fill every crevice. He knows every crevice, too. His fingertips have touched and curled against every single one.
“This fuckin’ body of yours,” he growls into your neck, his hips touching yours, his hand pressing right onto your lower stomach again. “Takes all of me, all my seed… think you were built for this, not even meant to cum, just a hole,” he breathes, licking up your neck.
You’re absolutely blissed out, your cheek still stinging, your mouth agape. He punches your stomach instead of pressing, emphasizing just how full he’s really made you.
“If you weren’t full of my cock right now…” Ben drawls, licking at your earlobe, his tongue sliding over it. “Would be spillin’ all over… ain’t that the cutest thing? Punchin’ your stomach, and forcin’ you to leak out.”
You don’t say anything; you just pant, and he pulls back, his rough hands brushing your hair from your face.
“A minute, this time.” he nods, licking his lips, his chest heaving. “Start runnin’.”
18+ mdni ˙. explicit dead dove content ˙. dom!soldier boy
ᯓ soldier boy wasn’t the meanest supe, but he was definitely a worthy competitor. the greater public didn’t know how he really was; they saw him as a protector of all without a single thought that he may be of harm to someone as fragile as you.
your hands would be chained to the metal bed frame behind you as your legs were spread wide by the man himself. soldier boy was large, in one word. all over, too. his hands could grip you firmly anywhere, his wide back shadowed over you, and his cock broke you.
“what’s the matter, doll?” he’d say when your face held a frown. he knew what the matter was, of course. you didn’t want to be there, but you knew better than to tell him that. so instead, you’d force a smile and shake your head. “nothing.”
sometimes when he’d pound into you, you’d bleed. he’d growl in your ear and fasten his pace. “look at that,” he’d chuckle. “like i take your innocence every—“ thrust, “fucking—“ thrust, “time.”
he’d push a plug into your ass with no prior prep just to hear you squeal and cry. he’d lick and bite at your cheeks as you sobbed, drinking the salt of your tears. then, he’d fuck you roughly. the feeling of being filled in two holes would make you cream and squirt around him. he’d groan and reprimand you for making a mess. maybe even slap your face.
he’d mumble about you being a good angel, sent just for his pleasure. he didn’t care for how you felt, not really. he’d flick your clit here and there, but if you hadn’t come before he did, he didn’t bother helping you.
he’d always fill you to the brim, making sure to push it deep in you. sometimes he wouldn’t pull out for dozens of minutes just to let it sit.
when you’d cry about wanting to go back home, he’d just fuck you until you were a blabbering, tired, mess. he would remind you that you were his, made for him and him only. either way, you were ruined for the rest of your life.
vought rising era (1950s) soldier boy headcanons? Nasty nasty nasty nasty pleaseee
NASTY soldier boy headcanons vought rising era! did y'all miss my headcanons?
MDNI
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ben drugs you whenever you do your chores because it makes you perform them sooooo much better. he starts of by giving you stimulants. they provide you with so much energy that you're practically bouncing off the walls. so you end up using all that energy up by hysterically cleaning the place. you're dusting, mopping, all while being chipper maybe a little too chipper. and that's exactly what he wanted. seeing his obedient wife do housework.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ after everything's polished he gives you other pills, this time it's sedatives to calm you down. the worst part about them is that they also have depressive side effects and he uses that to his advantage. he only fucks you after you've taken them because you're in such a bad mental state and so weak that he can do whatever he wants to you. "so fuckin' stupid but that's alright, you don't need any brains as my wife. just need to make my cock happy." he taunts.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he spanks you whenever he feels like you haven't been a good wife. didn't prepare food for him when he got home? well that just earns you a few smacks with his belt. when you cry he gaslights you into thinking you're being irrational. "you're being too hysterical, doll. am not even hurtin' you that bad." he says in a gentle voice that didn't match the force of his lashes.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ when he comes home he makes you kneel before him to massage and kiss his feet. that's not so bad. what's worse is when he makes you get under the table to suck his cock while he eats the dinner you cooked for him. it's so humiliating because you wanted to have dinner together with him like a normal couple. after he's done he takes your plate and puts it on the ground, making you eat the food you made off the floor like a damn dog.
Soldier Boy teasing reader all day and then fucking her but not letting her cum. So she's frustrated and he's all happy and smug because he got to cum and not her.
this is so canon ben to me. very mean and sexually sadistic when he wants to be, without ever needing to lay a hand on you. he thrusts deep inside your weeping cunt, completely ignoring your swollen clit and puffy folds begging desperately for attention or some sort of proper friction. your juices gush around him while he delivers his self-indulgent strokes, enjoying the sensation of your oozing slickness around him. he flicks your bud and swipes over it for a split second, just to watch your face fill with relief before it falls when you realise he’s still teasing.
when he finally speeds up, chasing his orgasm, you struggle to take him—the way his thick angry cock spears you open, his heavy balls slapping the fat of your ass, his hands holding your body completely still underneath him like some useless ragdoll. it’s just all too overwhelming, especially when your built-up desperation surges through your veins like burning acid.
ben finally cums, spurting hot loads deep inside your spasming walls, filling you up until you’re plugged full with his thick pearly seed. he pulls away after a moment, delivering a chaste kiss to your lips, leaving you even more pent-up than before. his tone is unforgiving as he mutters, “you’re gonna leave yourself alone, doll. don’t even think about gettin’ off or touching that pussy.”
before him, you were so independent. you didn’t need any man, it was you and your vibrator against the world.
he called himself daddy from the first time you two slept together, but you wouldn’t give into it. you’d laugh, you’d shove him… whatever it took to dispel that ego of his.
but the more he started babying you, taking care of you after a fight, buying you clothes, making sure you ate, holding your hand, listening when you needed him to… the softer you felt towards him.
the first time you did it was when he had you in a mean mating press, making you come for a third time on his dick. your head was in another place, your eyes rolling back, your voice deteriorated to little broken moans. “feeling good, dollface?” he asked you, so cocky, knowing you weren’t going to be able to walk the next morning.
and then you did it. you didn’t even realize the words were coming out of your mouth. “it feels so good, daddy.” your voice came out like a meek little whimper, your face buried in your pillow.
it took him a second to react. when he did, he swore. he started fucking you faster, rougher. “good girl, such a good girl for daddy.” pitiful tears started running down your face from overstimulation, but he just kissed them away. “fuck, daddy’s gonna treat you right, angel baby. won’t have to lift a pretty little finger. uh huh. gonna let daddy fill you up, huh?”
“y-yeah—“
“good fucking girl,” he growled, leaving bites all over your collarbone. “if it’s up to me, you’d stay in this bed all day. pretty fucking girl.”
he had never come harder, or more, in his entire life. and he also never, ever, ever let you live it down.
disclaimer :: you need to be logged into twitter to access these!! pls do ignore the captions on most posts, they're pretty nasty..
a/n :: if any of the links stop working, let me know and ill try to find replacements!! i definitely have a lot more, i was just too nervous to add too much..
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Dean W.
the impala has seen and heard many things.
pre!seasons dean.
dean's always been open to trying more.. risky things. (of course, it wasn't loaded.) // c:w - gunplay
that one episode with him as a gym teacher..
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Sam W.
usually sam is the polar opposite of his brother. public sex is too risky for him, but sometimes, even he has his limits.
sammy doesn't need anything in return, pleasing you is what he likes best.
hes tall, sure, but that doesn't mean hes lacking in inches..
dean want to grab something from the gas station, giving you a few minutes alone..
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Soldier Boy
ben was known for being.. mean.
ben found out you'd been using a toy to get off. safe to say, he wasn't happy.
bonus :: the winchester brothers dont mind sharing.
im sorry i need like FILTHY sex with dean, like cum everywhere, spit, literally anything but he's whispering the sweetest words to u while he does it JDISKSKSKSJ
cw: smut.ᐟ oral [f.receiving].ᐟ messy sex [p in v].ᐟ stubble!dean.ᐟ praise kink.ᐟ pet names [sweetheart, baby].ᐟ overstimulation.ᐟ 18+
#notes: hii anon, I hope this was filthy enough for youuu ㅤ♡ྀི
it starts with his mouth. not a sweet kiss. not even a word. just dean dropping to his knees and dragging you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles. he’s spreading your legs like he’s starving and you’re the only goddamn thing that could satisfy him.
“lemme have it, baby, please” he mutters, voice low and hot against your inner thigh, as he kisses his way up. “been such a long day f’me, fuck, you don’t even know.”
you don’t even have a chance to answer, not really. he’s already burying his face between your legs, tongue flat and wide as he licks up your slit, slow and heavy. groaning like he’s a kid in a fucking candy store.
“such a pretty pussy. i don’t know if i wanna fuck it or eat it” he murmurs in between. try and act like that didn’t have you even wetter than before.
his stubble is rough, from a few days grown out. and it’s mean. scratching at your skin with every pass of his jaw. it leaves your thighs red and raw, clit swollen from the friction, sensitive to the point of delirium.
he doesn’t even try to be gentle with it, sucking on you, like he’s trying to leave a permanent mark of red, puffy and used.
“fuck dean—” you gasp, fisting the sheets with clumsy hands. your hips jerk when he sucks your clit into his mouth, nose pressed firm against your slit.
but dean doesn’t stop until you’re sobbing and messy. until your thighs are sticky, shining and scratched up from his stubble. until your clit’s so overstimulated it twitches when he does so much as breathe on it.
only then does he lick each finger clean, looking up at you with those wrecked green eyes and a slick-smiled face, and say “think she’s ready for me now, sweetheart” with a little pat pat to your clit.
before you know it you hear the clink of dean’s belt while you’re still catching your breath, creamy rivulets down your inner thighs.
“c’mon,” he grunts, tugging you by the hips like you weigh nothing. “turn around f’me, baby. lemme see that perfect ass.”
you’re hazy but compliant. letting him flip you like a rag doll. your chest hits the mattress, back arched as invitation. dean rubs your slick onto the flushed tip of his pretty fat cock, spreading it like lube and pushes every inch of himself inside until your breath stutters and every little whine and mewl is muffled into the pillow.
“there we go, baby, just like that, s’my fuckin’ girl” he encourages. looking down to see your cunt stretch around the base of him, how perfect you always mold around his cock, even after a few days away on a hunt.
his hips roll, slow at first. wet, loud, and sloppy. every thrust sounded obscene, the room filled with nothing but slick and choked-off gasps slipping from your mouth.
“got the prettiest pussy” he mutters, leaning over your back, stubble scraping your shoulder as he mouths along your skin. “got ‘er all stretched open n’ full of me, s’how it should be.”
you whine something incoherent, words jumbling into moans. he’s always been— gifted we’ll say, and good at taking care of you, but every time felt like the first.
dean’s hands were so tight on your hips, you knew he'd leave bruises tomorrow. eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you into your orgasm, not even sure which one you were on at this point.
and when he flips you into another position, on your back, thighs pushed into your chest, ankles resting on his wide shoulders. when you ask if he’s ‘done’ or that “it’s too much,” with drool falling from your mouth.
your met with him bracing a palm over your throat, just a reminder that your his. that his next hunt wouldn’t be so long. and a “i know baby. i know” looking into your cock-drunk eyes.
he wants to see every inch of your creamy skin marked by him. whether it’s his cum, bruising from his lips, or the chafe of his stubble, it’s all the same in his eyes.
so that’s why he’s pulling out last second. pumping thick white stripes on your belly, tits, and your soppy ruined cunt. he makes sure you can feel it drip, slow and hot.
it’s pooling against your clit. a line of his seed clings to your slit and seeps down between your cheeks. another trails down your belly until it settles into the dip of your navel, warm and wet.
“fuck, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathless. “look at you. my pretty baby covered in me.” like he’s in awe of what he did.
dean’s got you cleaning his cock off with your mouth, tasting your combined releases. any and— every reminder that you’re his for keeping.
okay hear me out but Older!dean as your boss and he fucks you whenever you do something 'wrong'
boss!Dean is a tough one for me because I genuinely can't work out if it would be like---
☆ boss!Dean who watches you like you're prey on your first day
☆ boss!Dean who questions everything you do, making you redo every report and stopping you in meetings just to see you get flustered
☆ boss!Dean who lets his fingers skim the hem of your skirt when he stands behind you, his fingertips brushing the back of your thigh
☆ boss!Dean who invites you into his office one day after work and doesn't even say anything before he's got you against the wall with his tongue in your mouth
☆ boss!Dean who makes you wear shorter skirts and tighter shirts as eye candy to get him through his day
☆ boss!Dean who gets you to ride his thigh and then laughs at you when you cum
☆ boss!Dean who makes you give him blowjobs whenever he's on video calls- or just makes you sit under the desk with his cock in your mouth but doesn't let you do anything about it
☆ boss!Dean who fucks you against the window in his office because 'it's so high up no one will see' but you just know he's doing it to show you off
☆ boss!Dean that knows you'll do anything for him, fucking you in more and more obvious places hoping you'll get caught
~ OR ~
★ boss!Dean who's known to be tightass professional suddenly stuttering through meetings whenever you're there
★ boss!Dean who finds every opportunity to get you in his office but forgets his own excuses as soon as you walk in
★ boss!Dean who has to hold folders in front of him when you're around because his hard on is so obvious in his slacks
★ boss!Dean who feels like a creep even just talking to you because he's so down bad
★ boss!Dean who is shocked when you make the first move and it's obvious you've been feeling like this for a while
★ boss!Dean whose cheeks go red whenever you make a suggestive comment (let's be real- at this point everybody knows what's going on, he's not exactly subtle)
★ boss!Dean who has to be convinced to have sex in the office- but can't resist, large hand pressed over your mouth to keep you silent as he fucks you in the supply closet
★ boss!Dean who cums in his slacks before you even get his dick out when you hide under his desk during a meeting
★ boss!Dean who goes down on you on his desk for hours after work- just loving the feeling of you tugging at his hair and becoming undone on his tongue- and then freaks out when he thinks there's someone else still in the building
