hii

a wannabe fan page with a special spot for the foxy ^^

[floridak1los0]

[blckgirlacid]

I need my weird alone time or I will explode

[cowboylike-dean]

texts with dean winchester

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sorry if this is a little sloppy these are the first ones i make

also let’s ignore the fact that the colors in texting are reversed 😭 idk how to change them lol

[deantallicas]

Apple Pie Life

SUMMARY: The simple act of buttons being sewn onto Dean's shirt makes him get all mushy.

PAIRING: dean x bobby's daughter!reader

CONTENT: fem!reader, fluff, established relationship, 549 words

NOTES: short drabble i wrote after work. i've been learning to sew, and this idea has been in the back of my mind for a few days. my first fic since i was in like middle school so be niceeee.

requests r open!!

Bobby’s house after a hunt was always chaotic. There was always laundry to be done, showers to be taken, and weapons to be cleaned. You walk sluggishly over to the dryer while Dean is in the shower, determined to get all your clothes clean by the end of the night.

As you pull out the last of  Dean’s clothes to make room for your own, you notice something. A button was missing from one of his shirts. And another, and another. You put his clothes in a basket for him to deal with later, aside from the shirts with the missing buttons, which you bring with you to your bedroom. 

While you're rummaging through your drawers for a needle, thread, and some buttons, Dean enters the room fresh out of the shower. His hair is spiked up like a hedgehog, and water droplets are still on his skin. 

“Hey, sweetheart," he says as he takes a seat on the bed. "Whatcha up to, huh?"

You find what you need and sit next to him, threading your needle with practiced ease. “You had a bunch of missing buttons, so I’m fixing them.”

“You know,” he says while he ruffles your hair, “You don’t have to do that. They’re gonna come off again with how rough I am on these things.”

“I know that.” You struggle to find the buttonhole through the back of the fabric, but you manage to get the needle through eventually. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Thanks, Grandma.”

“Oh, shut up. I’ll poke you with this needle.” 

He laughs and lies back with his hand behind his head. “Okay, okay. No more insulting the woman with the sharp object.”

He watches as you sew, noticing how it’s almost second nature to you. 

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“Um," you mutter as you finish one button and move on to the next, “I wanted to learn how to sew. Y’know, make my own clothes and everything. I found some old, dusty home economics textbook on one of my dad’s bookshelves. Must’ve been my mom’s or something. I learned most of the basic stuff that way. I’d practice on scraps, or mine or my dad’s shirts.”

He hummed in response and continued to watch in silence. The scene in front of him made his mind go to places he'd never thought it'd go. He thought about a normal life with you. One where quiet, domestic moments like these weren't so few and far between. He'd make you delicious, home-cooked meals to make up for all the greasy diner food you'd eaten all those years on the road. You'd live in a nice house in some boring suburb. Maybe you'd have a dog, or even a family one day. There'd be no vampires or demons to worry about taking down. Just pure, domestic bliss.

Before his thoughts could wander any further, you broke the silence, letting out a quiet "ow."

"Did you just poke yourself?"

"Shut up."

He laughed while wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and planting a kiss on the top of your head. Maybe he couldn't have that "apple pie life" anytime soon, but what he had with you right now was more than good enough for him.

NOTES: omfgggg i feel like this is dumb. whatever hoped u liked it. i’ll take requests for more fics/headcanons :3

[godmadeaterribleerror]

✦the easy life✦

✧･ﾟ:it looks good on him. The ease of a life without danger, the peace of a world where he sleeps through the night with you tucked into his chest, then wakes up in the morning and makes a real breakfast, in a real kitchen, with a real job and a sense that this isn’t going to end.

✧･ﾟ:there are parts that he resisted at first. The hair was an issue. He’d shave every morning with the same military focus he’d had on the road, and make you cut it in the bathroom the same way you used to in the bunker. But then he’d sleep in, snoring and cuddling you like a teddy bear, and the stubble grew, and grew, and grew. You didn’t remind him of the haircuts. He glared at himself in the mirror sometimes and rubbed his jaw, but then you kissed right over his beard and ran your fingers through his hair, and he melted in a second. 

✧･ﾟ:“i look old,” he grumbled one morning, holding you over him in bed. You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose. He scowled, squeezing your sides. “I ain’t joking, baby, I look like I’m damn near fifty-“

✧･ﾟ:“that’s because you are near fifty, De,” you murmured. “And I think you look very handsome.” You pet the top of his head, and he leaned into your touch. “Distinguished.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he grunted, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your wrist, and you raised your brows.

“I think it means I like it, dummy.”

And that had made him falter. He’d looked at you like he wasn’t sure to trust it. And you knew he didn’t. He’d spent too long, thinking comfort was the one sin he wasn’t allowed to afford. So you’d just kept smiling. You kissed him deeply, and he melted, cupping your face and rolling you over with a satisfied half-grunt.

Maybe he was getting old. With the gain of a real grocery store down the street, he’d turned into a little of an obsessive housewife in the kitchen, and you were being served new dishes every single night. Without the hunting, he gained a little weight, but the mechanic work meant he gained muscle with it. You catch him frowning at the mirror after a shower, and you’re sure a part of him doesn’t recognize the man across the sink.

But you do. It’s the same man you loved when he was sharp and rough like sandpaper. The same man who’s heart you had to spend years unwrapping from the barbed wire, who you loved with every sting and groveling apology and mistake. He seems to think you’re going to leave, now that he’s gone all fuckin’ soft.

You just count it as a long winter that’s thawed. A spring that took a while to bloom, and now, a rich, eternal summer. And you’re not about to run, right when you can start reaping your rewards.

He feeds you better than you’ve ever fed yourself. He holds your hand in the house, like he’s trying to put some claim on you over the walls. He laughs loudly at stupid parties you have to attended, and charms all your neighbors, and stares at babies and cribs when he thinks you’re not looking, his fingers digging into your hip with a quiet, long buried longing.

The nightmares still come, but he slowly talks about what he can. He doesn’t go to therapy—that was a long shot anyway—but he lets you drag him to the doctor, and takes his stupid heart meds with a grumble and kiss of your forehead, as if you’re the only reason he’s bothering to keep himself upright and kicking. He makes friends that aren’t his brother, and doesn’t even fight with Sam anymore. He drinks a little less and drives a little slower. He knocks out watching TV, but still manages to wake up long enough to carry you to bed.

And bed alone is a reason to love him like this, just a little extra. A sliver that grows from the everything about his handsome, gentle face being inches from yours, the scent of his evergreen aftershave surrounding you better than any drug, massive, calloused hands tracing over your body like, even after all this time, he still finds himself awestruck at your beauty.

“My girl,” he rasps against your lips, and you believe it.

You believe it with the way you’re all but consumed by him, drowning you in his weight and heat. Thick biceps keep your legs shoved apart when he buried his face against your drooling pussy, his beard scraping and tickling your inner thighs. His tongue works you open and flicks against your clit. You tug his hair with a whimpering pleas, and he moans, deep and rich and hungry. Your eyes roll back in your head, the vibration against your cunt almost too much before you’re coming apart on his face, and he doesn’t let up until you’re trembling and gasping for air.

Dean kisses you with your arousal still clinging to his beard, and sinks into your cunt with low, strained growl of need. You hug him tight, barely able to do anything but take it. The girth and size of him was always right on the better side of too much. Now, with the extra strength, you fall into a mess with barely a few strokes. Dean handles you like a doll, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging your ass up in the air, folding his body over yours and kissing your open, gaping mouth.

“So fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he grunts, cock drilling into that gooey, needy spot with every stroke. “Takin’ it so good f’ me, my sweet girl-“

“De- Deean-“ You whine. “Please- Need to cum- Need it so bad-“

Dean grabs your neck with one hand and turns your head, kissing you deep and messy. He splays his hand over your tummy, pressing up into where his dick is splitting you in half, and the extra pressure is too much to bear. You cum with a scream, and Dean buries himself deep inside you with a low, rough groan. Sticky ropes of cum paint over your walls, your thighs, the mattress as it dribbles out of your over-stuffed cunt.

Dean kisses you slowly, in no rush to clean, in no rush to move. He rolls onto his back and you curl into his side, fitting against him perfectly and blinking up at him with worshipful, glossy eyes. He swallows, brushes the hair from your brow, and takes your chin between his fingers. He tips it up and kisses you slowly, savoring every time, satisfied hum from your lips.

Sometimes he still thinks he doesn’t deserve this, but he’s certain that you do. And if you’re happy with him like this—bigger and mushy and comfortable—then you can’t possibly be wrong. For the first time in his life, he really has all the time in the world. And he doesn’t plan to waste a second of it. Not when he has you.

✦Dean Masterlist - Main Masterlist - read on AO3!✦

✦Author's Note: request! i would give him such a happy lifeeee put me in coach✦

✦Buy me a coffee!☕️ (and get early access!)

[amrv-5]

Does anyone know what to do about the temperature and also the prices

[nightonblogmountain]

[termagax]

"you only like her because shes a woman" yup "you let female characters get away with too much" yes "if a man did this you would hate him for it" indeed

[thewatersofmarch]

don’t care didn’t ask + you’ve projected onto this character to the point that your characterisation is unrecognisable to the source material

[whor3ing]

─── ꒲ nsfw size kink / headlock fucking w dean winchester . . . ❜ ﹗ ﹙୨꣒﹚ ⊹⠀ᯓ‎ 𝄞 surrender , suicide ⌇ f!reader , ❜୧ ‎ ‎ ˙ ⁴⁴⁴

The bunker garage is thick with the smell of motor oil and hot metal, the low hum of classic rock drifting from an old speaker Dean rigged up years ago.

He’s bent over the same motorcycle he’s been tinkering with for weeks—some beat-up vintage Harley he salvaged from a hunt a few months ago gone sideways. His broad back is glistening with sweat under the harsh overhead lights. No shirt. Just worn jeans slung low on his hips and a streak of grease across one sharp cheekbone.

You pause in the doorway, throat dry. He’s absolutely massive like this.

Shoulders carved from years of dragging monsters into graves, back muscles flexing every time he handles a wrench. The dim light catches on the ridges of his abs when he straightens, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. That v-line disappearing into his jeans makes your pulse stutter.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he drawls without even turning around, voice rough like gravel under tires. But there’s that smirk in it. He knows exactly what he does to you.

You step closer anyway, boots quiet on the concrete. “Thought you said you’d be done by now.” Dean sets the wrench down with a metallic clink and finally faces you.

God, he’s big.

Six-foot-one of pure hunter, chest rising slow, those green eyes dark with something that has nothing to do with the bike. His hand—fuck, that hand, flexes at his side, palm wide enough to span half your ribcage if he wanted.

“Got distracted.” His gaze drags down your body like a physical touch. “C’mere.”

You don’t make it two steps before he’s on you. One big arm hooks around your waist and hauls you up against him, your feet barely brushing the floor. He’s already half-hard in his jeans, you can feel the thick line of him pressing into your stomach, heavy and insistent.

"Dean—” you breathe, but he cuts you off with a filthy kiss, tongue sliding deep, claiming. His free hand cradles the back of your head, fingers spread so wide his pinky brushes the top of your spine.

Your skull fits in his palm like it was made for it.

“Been thinkin’ about this tight little pussy all damn day,” he growls against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip. “While I’m out here sweatin’, gettin’ my hands dirty… all I can picture is you stretched around my cock, cryin’ for more even when you’re already full.”

He walks you backward until your ass hits the edge of the workbench. Tools rattling, and then suddenly, he’s lifting you like you weigh nothing, setting you on the scarred wood and stepping between your thighs.

His abs contract as he leans in— completely cut like fresh hawaiian rolls, glistening, the kind of muscle that makes your mouth water. You run your hands over them, nails scraping, and he hisses.

“Yeah? Like what you see, baby?” He grabs your wrist and presses your palm flat against his stomach, letting you feel every ridge.

“All this for you. But you know what you really want.”He grinds forward, letting you feel the massive bulge straining against denim. Even through layers, it’s intimidating. Thick and long. The kind of dick that ruins you for anyone else.

Dean doesn’t waste time. He yanks your shorts down your legs in one rough tug, panties gone with them. Two thick fingers drag through your folds and he groans low. “Already soaked. Such a needy little thing. Can’t even wait for me to finish work before you’re drippin’ for this cock.”

He sinks one finger in, then two, stretching you open with practiced ease. His knuckles are thick, veins standing out on the back of his hand as he pumps slow. You whimper, thighs trying to close around his wrist, but he just chuckles darkly and forces them wider with his hip.

“Look at that. Barely two fingers and you’re already shaking. Gonna look so pretty split open on the real thing.”

He pulls his fingers free, brings them to his mouth and licks them clean while holding your gaze. Then he’s shoving his jeans down just enough. His cock springs out—heavy, flushed dark, thicker than your wrist. The head is leaking, veins wrapping around the shaft like they’re daring you to take every inch. It twitches under your stare, curving up toward his abs.

Dean wraps one hand around the base and strokes once, slow. “See this, sweetheart? This is what’s gonna wreck you tonight.”

WIthout any hesitation, he lines up and pushes in, both slow and delectably relentless.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as the you feel his cock stretching you wide. He’s so big it burns in the best way, every inch forcing your walls to part around him. Halfway in and you’re already gasping, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, baby,” he coos, voice wrecked. “So goddamn tight. Look down. Watch how you take me.”

You do. The sight is obscene, your pussy stretched so needily around his thick cock, lips gripping him like they never want to let go. He’s only halfway inside of you and you already feel full, pressed right against the limit.

Dean’s hand returns to the back of your head, cradling you, anchoring. His other grips your hip hard enough to bruise.

“Breathe, sweet girl. You can take it. You always take it so fucking good for me.”

He bottoms out with a deep roll of his hips and you sob at the pressure. The head of his cock kisses your cervix, grinding against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes. His abs flex against your stomach with every shallow thrust, like he’s fucking you with his whole body.

“Atta girl. Takin’ every inch of this big dick for me—jus' like that baby. I knew you were made for it.”

He starts moving—deep, devastating strokes that punch the air from your lungs. The workbench creaks beneath you, your thighs trembling around his waist. Every thrust makes your tits bounce under your shirt until he yanks it up and latches onto a nipple, sucking hard.

“Dean—oh god—”

“Yeah, baby? Say my name again while I ruin this pretty pussy, tremble f'me, call out to me, tell me i'm yours.”

He pulls out suddenly, spinning you around and bending you over the bike’s seat. The leather is cool against your overheated skin. Dean kicks your legs wider, lines up, and slams back in with one brutal thrust.

“Fuck yes,” he growls, hand fisting in your hair. “Ass up, just like that. Let me see how deep I get inside this sweet cunt.”

The new angle is even worse—or better. He’s hitting spots that make your knees buckle. You can feel him in your stomach, the bulge of his cock pressing against your lower belly with every thrust.

Without warning his arm hooks around your throat. He pulls you up into a headlock, your back flush to his sweaty chest. His bicep bulges against the side of your neck, forearm locked under your chin, holding you right where he wants you. You’re completely at his mercy, feet barely touching the ground, impaled on his massive cock.

“Mine,” he snarls right in your ear, voice low and filthy. “This tight little cunt is mine. Gonna fuck you so deep you feel me for weeks.”

He starts pounding up into you—hard, fast, relentless. The headlock keeps you arched, helpless, every thrust driving straight into that perfect spot. His free hand slides down to press against your lower stomach, feeling the way his cock moves inside you.

“Feel that? Feel how deep I am, baby? No one else gets this far. No one else fills you up like this big fucking cock.. hmm?? tell me.”

You’re shaking, gasping, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure-pain. His abs are slick against your back, muscles working as he fucks you stupid. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the garage along with his filthy praise.

“Such a good little slut for me. Takin’ it so deep on my bike f'me. That’s it—milk my dick, sweetheart.”

Your orgasm hits suddenly, causing you to cry out, body seizing, pussy clamping down hard around his thickness. Dean groans, hips stuttering, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he fucks you right through it, headlock tightening just enough to make your head spin in the best way

.“Fuck, that’s my girl. Come all over me. Soak this cock.”

He pulls out only long enough to flip you again, this time facing him. Your legs wrap around his waist as he lifts you, impaling you once more in one smooth glide. Back against the workbench, Dean’s hand returns to cradle your head like you’re something precious even while he ruins you.

His thrusts turn slower, deeper, grinding. Every roll of his hips makes his abs drag against your clit. His cock is still impossibly hard, throbbing inside you, stretching you to your limit.

“Gonna fill you up,” he pants, forehead pressed to yours. “Gonna pump this pretty pussy full of my come. You want that, baby? You want me to breed you so full that I make you a pretty little mama—hmm?"

You nod frantically, nails raking down his back.

Dean laughs—low, smug, breathless. “Yeah you do. Greedy girl. Made for me. Such a perfect fuckin' fit.”

He kisses your temple, almost tender, even as his hips snap harder.“Mine. All fucking mine.”

When he comes, it’s with a deep groan, cock pulsing as he floods you.

You feel every thick spurt, warm and endless, until it’s leaking out around him. He stays buried deep, grinding lazy circles as he whimpers out, keeping his come right where it belongs.

His hand stays at the back of your head, thumb stroking your jaw. Voice soft now, just for you.

“You’re made for me, baby. It's always you n' me— huh?" He chuckles, rubbing circles against your back.

The garage is quiet except for your ragged breathing and the distant crackle of the radio; 'Surrender' by Suicide solemnly playing in the background as he cradles around you.

His forehead rests against yours, breath warm and steady. Those big hands—so rough from years of hunting and wrenching on engines—are impossibly gentle now.

One stays cradling the back of your head, thumb brushing slow circles over your temple. The other slides up your back under your shirt, palm splayed wide between your shoulder blades like he’s trying to press you even closer.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-rough, lips brushing yours in the softest kiss. Then another. And another. Little presses that turn sweet and lingering, like he’s tasting the quiet between heartbeats. “I’ve got you. Always got you.”

You melt into him, thighs still trembling around his waist, pussy fluttering lazily around his thick length. He’s still so big, still so full inside you, but the sting has melted into a warm, heavy ache that feels like home.

Dean smiles against your mouth. A small, crooked, boyish in a way he rarely lets anyone see.

“Look at you,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his. “All flushed and pretty, takin’ every inch of me like it’s nothing. My sweet girl, you make me so proud.”

He kisses the corner of your eye, then your cheek, then that spot just under your ear that makes you shiver. “You did so good for me. Always do.”

The song swells softly. Dean sways with you just a little, barely a rock of his hips, more comfort than thrust. His cock gives another lazy twitch and he hums, low and pleased, like the feel of you around him is the best thing he’s ever known.“Stay right here,” he says, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna move yet. Feels too damn perfect.”

His hand drifts down to rub slow, soothing circles over your lower belly, right where he’s still buried so deep. “Love feelin’ you like this. All warm and full of me.”

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in motor oil, sweat, and that familiar scent that’s just Dean.

He keeps you there for long minutes, trading lazy kisses. His hand never stops its gentle petting—your back, your thigh, the curve of your waist,like he can’t bear to stop touching you.

“Gonna keep you full a little longer, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll carry you inside, clean you up real nice, maybe run you a hot shower…” Another kiss, slower this time.

“Or maybe I won’t pull out at all. Keep you on my cock all night. Would you like that, baby?”

You nod, both dazed and happy, and he grins, that bright, heartstopping grin that makes him look like a goddamn angel.

“Atta girl.” He nuzzles into your hair, holding you tighter. “My sweet, gorgeous girl. All mine.”

And you know—he’ll be ready to go again soon. He always is. But right now he’s content to just hold you, cock warm and deep, heart beating steady against yours while the radio plays on and on.

᭝⁀⠀᭝⠀@obsessivekniss

if you would like to be tagged in future works pls comment!! i am redoing my taglist :,)

꒱⠀₊   ˚⠀⊹⠀ library.

[wafflewarrior111]

So... I found this and now it keeps coming to mind. You hear about "life-changing writing advice" all the time and usually its really not—but honestly this is it man.

I'm going to try it.

[missroserose]

I love the lawyer metaphor, because whenever I see “John knew that...” in prose writing I immediately think “how?  How does he know it?”  Interrogate your witnesses.  Cross-examine them.  Make them explain their reasoning.  It pays dividends.

[unicornlover729161]

𝐷𝑎𝑑𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑!𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑛…

masterlist | my AO3 account | more of „supernatural“

Dbf!Dean who holds onto your thigh underneath the dinner table, letting his thumb brush over all your sensitive spots and moving his hand height and higher, all while your dad sits right across from you two.

Dbf!Dean who pushes himself up behind you while you do the dishes after dinner, your dad outside cleaning the grill. You can feel his growing hard on and his firm muscles thru his clothes, making the wetness just pool between your legs.

Dbf!Dean who presses down at the bulge that forms in your tummy whenever he pushes deep enough into you. He just loves seeing you whine about how big he is but how you can definitely handle every inch of him.

Dbf!Dean who likes fucking you while he’s got you in a headlock, making you unable to move from the overstimulation he’s putting you in. While you love being so close to him I to just getting way too much for you body to handle, but you wanted it didn’t you?

Dbf!Dean who tells you he’s so proud of you whenever you show him how good you did in on a test for college. And go of course rewards you with burying his head between your legs for hours on end.

Dbf!Dean who slaps or pinches your ass whenever you walk by him and no ones looking, at the family barbecue or when he and your dad watch football on weekends and you’re so nice to bring them another beer. Right here beside your dad but he’s focused on the game so he won’t notice.

Dbf!Dean who pushes his fingers into your mouth whenever you start whining about literally anything during sex, or not during sex.

Guys I swear I do NOT have any issues with my dad

taglist: @needjoekeery @jason-vs-crowbar r @iloveneilperry @eidbcgduiajxbsu @rubyrubydoo09 @romydolly

[whatsernamekei]

dad bf! benjamin who comforts you after your boyfriend breaks up with you ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

contains: smut, very light angst, age gap, kissing, small amount aftercare, domestic!ben, modern au, oral, comfort, gentle!ben

author’s note: this might be ooc but most fics I see are of ben being mean ash and I want a nice ben for once. im also working on requests and this was a draft from a few days ago

wc: 1.4k

your dad's best friend since high school, Benjamin, has been there for you ever since. he helps you when you needed a tutor for school, helps you make dinner, and holds you when you need to cry.

which is what he was doing as of right now.

you quietly sobbed into his chest after telling him what had happened with you and your boyfriend, sitting in his lap facing him. his hand rubbed your back, scratching it gently. "he didn't deserve you, sweetheart."

he murmured sweet nothings in your ear before giving your nape a light kiss. his free hand rubbed your thigh.

"it's okay to cry, my sweet girl. I'm always here for you."

"t-thank you, ben.." you sniffled, rubbing your eye. "you're always so nice to me.."

"I wouldn't be mean to my baby girl, would I?"

you smiled, eyes still glossy as you wrapped your arms around him, getting deeper into his lap as his hands found your sides, squeezing them gently. "you're gonna have to get to bed soon, sweetheart. it's late."

"I…I know. I wanna stay with you." you admitted, shying away from him.

"look at me."

his command made your head perk up, looking him in the eye, his lips curled into a smile, pressing a soft kiss to your head. "no boy deserves you. a beautiful girl like you needs a man to take care of her."

your hands went to his chest, pushing yourself up. "what do you mean?"

"these boys your age are no good. you need a real man, love."

"like you, ben?" your words grew bolder as he smiled once again, hand moving up to cup your cheek in his palm.

"like me, if you'll have me." he moved your head closer to his to where your forehead pressed against his, the intimacy causing your cheeks to flush.

"ben.."

"your father wouldn't be happy to see his daughter's mouth so close to mine, would he?"

"no..no he wouldn't." you said before his lips caught yours in a passionate kiss, his lips moving gently against yours. his hand moved to your waist, another hand on the back of your head to keep your lips pressed to his.

his tongue moved against your bottom lip, licking at it before his teeth bit on it gently, signaling for you to part your lips. you obliged and parted your soft lips, his tongue moving inside. your hands moved up and down his chest, moving lower to the hem of his shirt.

"tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"y-you, ben."

"dirty girl." he mumbled against your lips, the sound of his voice vibrating against your lip as he kissed you again, hand tangling in your hair. the hand on your waist moving under your shirt and his palm meeting the skin on your waist.

his palm rubbed against your side, the soft skin heating up under his hand. he pulled away and gave you one last kiss before his lips met your neck, nipping and kissing at the skin of your nape.

"precious thing, nobody deserves such a sweet girl like you." he said, his eyes meeting yours.

"do I deserve you, ben?"

"you deserve the world." his lips moved back to yours, kissing them once more. in between kisses, he mumbled a few words. "that boyfriend of yours was no good, I don't know what you saw in that guy."

"I was looking for you in him.." you admitted, looking away from him. his hand cupped your chin and forced you to look back at him.

"well now you have the real thing, don't you sweetheart? lay back on the bed for me. let me show you how a real man treats his woman."

you nodded, complying as you laid back on the guest bed, letting him take your shirt and pull it up and over your head, revealing your bra underneath, a regular black sports bra.

he got on his knees, in between your legs as he pulled his own shirt off, tossing it to the side.

his hands moved to your shorts, rubbing your thigh before pulling them down gently, revealing your black panties. "matching set, huh?"

"y-yeah.." you mumbled, feeling an ounce of embarrassment due to the basic sports bra you were wearing. if you knew he was gonna do this, you would've wore that victoria's secret set you bought the other day.

"cute." he replied, his mouth moving down to kiss your waist and your stomach, worshiping your body. "so precious. all mine."

his finger tugged at your panties before his other hand pulled your bra up and over your head, your tits revealed to him. his hand groped at your breast as he pulled your panties down to your ankles.

"good thing you didn't shave. like it better this way."

your face became flushed, embarrassed at his comment. "..ben!"

he chuckled, kissing your clit. "it's gorgeous. don't think I've ever seen such a pretty pussy." his tongue swiped against your clit, licking at it before sucking on it, your face twisted in pleasure.

"b—ben! fuck—" you whimpered, your hand moving to grip the back of his head.

his tongue lapped your pussy before sticking his tongue in your entrance, thrusting it in and out. he kept repeating this pattern of him lapping your pussy then thrusting in it before he drew his attention back to your clit.

"tastes amazing, doll. could lick this pussy all day."

"I don't think I'd make it out alive.." you panted out.

"I'll make sure you do, you'll take everything I have to give you."

his tongue licked once more at your clit before you came, his tongue lapping up your arousal.

"there you go, atta girl."

"ben.." you whined, thighs pressing back together.

"does my doll need something more? use your words."

"y-your dick. please, ben?"

he patted your thigh before his hands went to unbuckle his belt, his belt being thrown aside along with his pants. the only thing he was wearing by now was his boxers which had an obvious bulge in them.

"is this what you want?"

"yes ben.." his hands pulled his boxers down, his cock springing out. he was thick and big, tip leaking pre cum.

he gave it a few strokes before saying a few words. "you on the pill?"

"yeah.."

"then I'm cumming inside you. need to fill this pussy up." he said before his tip prodded at your entrance, your legs being held up by him.

"fuck.." you whined as he pushed inside, his cock stretching you out. "please, ben." you mumbled as he bottomed out.

"I'll give you what you want, doll. just wait." he gave you a couple seconds to adjust before he slowly pulled out just to push back in, being gentle with you.

"I'm the only one you'll be doing this with from now on. you're mine, got that?" you nodded, his hands moving your legs to your chest, putting you in a mating press.

"just like that doll, just how I want you." he said, his thrusts slow and soft.

"you won't let anyone get intimate with you ever again, cause this sweet girl is mine now." he kissed your nape before his thrusts grew quicker and harder.

"fuck—ben!" you moaned out, his lips moving to kiss you softly, your moans being swallowed by his mouth.

he pulled away, kissing your nose. "don't just see this as sexual, doll. this is us getting as close as we can to each other. I love you, sweetheart."

"I-I love you too, ben." you confessed, his lips catching yours in another kiss. his hand went to intertwine with yours, holding your soft hand in his rougher one. he pulled back from the kiss to thrust harder into you.

a bulge started to form on your stomach, very light but visible. his hand pressed down on it softly, making you cry out. "feel how deep I am? hm?"

"yes, ben..!" you moaned, hands moving to grip his back, leaving scratches on it.

"keep doing that, sweetheart. don't stop." he groaned at the feeling of your nails scratching at his back, the mix of pain and pleasure filling his mind.

your cunt squeezed around him, signaling you were getting close again. "you're gonna cum again, doll?"

you nodded, pecking his lips.

"cum for me, sweetheart." he urged as you came, your pussy squeezing tightly around him as he came inside you. thick ropes of cum filled your womb, the feeling making you moan.

he stayed inside for a couple minutes before pulling out and laying down next to you, pulling you into his chest.

"you did amazing, took everything I gave you." he praised you, kissing your nose.

you hugged him, cuddling him as he hugged you back, kissing your cheek. "I love you, sweet girl." He said, smiling at you.

"I love you too, ben."

©whatsernamekei 2026 all works belong to @whatsernamekei. Do not translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize. 

[thegoatoffanfiction]

BETTER THAN HE CAN

(if this blows up, i might make it a series👀)

pairing: dbf!beau arlen x female reader

warning: whole lotta plot, maybe fluff?, i think angst , age gap (reader is over 18, in her 20s, beau is around his late 40s) , pet names, bit possessive maybe , reader has a boyfriend, cheating (some of you may not like this😬) , based off of this lovely post. (kissthigh i love you) , and maybe something else i don't know. (please criticize me all you guys want i haven't wrote in a while + i didn't watch the show so i have not a clue in the world about how he acts and speaks and only have knowledge from a few fics.)

wc: 1.1k

It was the 4th of July, a hot summer afternoon. You were sat down outside (wearing whatever the hell you want to) , your dad had invited a bunch of family members and friends for the barbecue since it was the 4th of July. You were fanning yourself with a random pamphlet you had found, watching people who arrived. Your boyfriend (who was an immature and just childish) was somewhere else chatting with another girl. Last night, you had found out he cheated on you last night at some random party you two were at. You hadn't confronted him about it yet, you were waiting for the right moment.

At that moment, you were looking around and saw someone you hadn't seen in quite a while, Beau. You hadn't even noticed your eyes lit up and you grinned. You two locked eyes and he smiled, you just felt your stomach doing 50 flips all at once. He started to walk towards you, you just started to stand up.

"Hey sweetheart, you're all grown up." He said softly when he got close enough, you two hugged. Your arms went around his neck. his snaked around your waist, his hands resting around your lower back and his thumb rubbing circles. He towered over you, you turned your head up to look up at him.

"Hi Beau, how are you?"

"Good, I'm good, how are you?"

"Good..I'm good."

"Good..that's good." The conversation was a little awkward. You guys kinda just stood there in silence, then your dad came over.

"Hey Beau! long time no see!" Your father said with a smile on his face. Beau smiled back and they hugged and patted their backs and the whole thing fathers do with friends and stuff.

"Hey man! how's it been?"

They had their conversation and you just stood there. After a little bit of them talking and you just standing there, your dad turned to you.

"Hey hun, be a dear and grab us a beer? will you?"

"Yeah, sure dad."

You walk away and over to the cooler, you see your boyfriend sitting on it, talking to yet, another girl. You tried not to seem annoyed, but you really were.

"Hey babe, I need to grab something real quick, can you stand up?"

You asked politely, he barely looked at you.

"Yeah give me a sec."

He mumbled, still talking to the other girl. You sigh and start to speak.

"Baby, we need to talk."

"Not now, give me a seco-"

"Now."

He turned and looked at you with this annoyed expression, he told the girl to give him a few as he reluctantly stood up and walked towards a less crowded area.

"What? what do you need?"

"Look..I.."

You tried to find the words to confront him about his cheating, he rubbed his temples.

"I don't have all day, spit it out or i'm going back."

"I saw you cheating! I saw you in bed with that other girl!"

He rolled his eyes.

"She meant nothing to me! I was just bored, I needed more."

Before you can even speak he walks away, you can't even end things, so you're stuck with him until this party ends. Before you could stop yourself you feel tears rolling down your cheeks, you slowly fall down the wall, soft sobs coming out. You hear soft footsteps and a voice call out.

"Doll, you there?"

It was Beau, he found you and rushes to your side

"Doll, what's wrong?"

He pulled you into his arms, his left hand going up and down your back, his right stroking your hair.

"Talk to me, what happened?"

You slowly started to speak through tears

"He didn't even care when I told him!"

He spoke back slowly

"calm down honey, calm down, who's he? told him what?"

"My boyfriend! he didn't even care when I told him I knew he cheated!"

Beau's grip tightened momentarily

"Who's your boyfriend?"

"Beau-"

"Who?"

"...The guy in the white shirt and jeans and on the cooler."

"Thanks doll, I'll be right back."

"Beau! no! stop."

"Why, why should I not go over there?"

"Because he's my boyfriend!"

"You have a horrible taste in men."

"Why is that? huh?"

"Because he's treats you horribly, you need someone who can treat you better, better than he can."

"He treats me fine."

"No, no he doesn't. He's immature, and he's insane if he thinks he'll find someone better than you. You need someone who is mature, has experience, like me."

"I don't go for older men."

"Well you should start."

"Older men aren't my type."

"Why not, you need a mature man, who can give you the world."

"I don't..find you attractive, Beau."

You were lying your ass off. You always found him attractive. You could see the flash of hurt on his face.

"Really? you don't?"

"No, I don't."

He sighed and looked away.

"Well, then...I should get going, bye doll."

He started to stand, you wanted to stop him, to yell at him and confess, tell him everything, kiss him, but you couldn't, so you didn't. He walked away, visibly hurt, he walked over to your dad. It sounded like he said something along the lines of

"Hey, it's getting late, I should go."

He gave you one last look before turning and leaving. You traded a piece of gold for a piece of shit, you needed to get it together. You walked back to your boyfriend since he was your only way to get back and you obviously couldn't go with Beau. You reached him and spoke.

"Hey, can we go back home?"

"Bitch, can't you I'm busy?"

He spoke roughly to you, nothing like the way Beau spoke to you, he was gentle and soft with you. You try and speak again,

"Please, I'm tired and-"

smack.

He just slapped you, and not for the first time since you two had gotten together. You knew Beau would never treat you like this. He was speaking to another woman, he was flirting as if you weren't next to him. You were really blind if you couldn't see that Beau was just the better option for you. You just stood there and waited for him to finish talking with that other girl.

When he finished and you two could finally go home, you got into the car, and he drove off. You two started to argue in the car, he did notice how close you were to Beau some times, and he was pissed. He was yelling at you, and you just sat there and took it. When it got really heated, he started to speed up the car..a lot. It scared you.

"Babe...slow down!"

"No! because you wanna be talking to other dudes!"

"He's a family friend!"

He just got faster.

creds for divider: @cursed-carmine

tiktok: daddy.im.so.alone (soon to be the same as my user on here)

[jewellaces]

Birthday present 𝜗ৎ

Summary: On Soldier boys birthday, you surprise him by dressing in his favorite lingerie set and making it the best birthday ever.

𑣲⋆ Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, rough sex, fingering, oral sex, mild choking, finger sucking, light aggression

wc: 1k

You’d spent hours getting ready for this. The white lace lingerie was sinful, thin straps framing your tits, sheer panels that hid nothing, garters snapping tight against your thighs. A little red bow sat between your breasts with a handwritten tag: Happy Birthday, Ben Unwrap me. Candles flickered across the apartment. Whiskey waited on the counter next to the steak you’d made. The second the door opened, you perched on the dining table, legs crossed, heart racing.

Soldier Boy stepped inside, still wearing his suit, shield dropped with a heavy thud. He looked pissed off from whatever shit day he’d had. “What a fucking joke of a birthday,” he muttered, flipping on the lights.

Then he saw you.

He raked his gaze over every inch of you slowly, appreciatively. “Well, damn. Look at you, sweetheart. That’s the best present I’ve gotten in decades.”

You smiled softly. “Happy birthday, Ben. Thought you could use something good after today.”

He stalked toward you, peeling off his gloves. “You thought right. Been surrounded by idiots all day. This… this is what I needed.” He stopped right in front of you, towering, and snapped one thin strap against your skin. “On your knees. Now.”

You slid down between his thick thighs without hesitation. He unzipped and pulled out his heavy cock, already hard and leaking. You wrapped your hand around the base and leaned in, licking a slow, wet stripe from balls to tip before taking the head into your mouth.

“Deeper. Don’t half-ass it. Take more, there you go. Relax that throat. You can handle it. I know you can. Good fucking girl, choking on my cock like you were made for it.”

His grip tightened and he started rocking his hips, feeding you more with each thrust. Spit ran down your chin as you gagged slightly, but he didn’t let up.

“Tease the head with your tongue. Fuck, that feels good.”

He kept up the steady stream of rough commands and praise, guiding you exactly how he wanted. After several long minutes of you working him with your mouth, he pulled you off by the hair, breathing hard.

“Up,” he ordered. He lifted you onto the table like you weighed nothing and yanked your thong to the side. Two thick fingers pressed against your lips. “Open. Suck.”

You took them into your mouth instantly, swirling your tongue and sucking messily while he watched with dark eyes.

“Get them nice and wet.” He pushed them deeper, fucking your mouth with his fingers aggressively. “...just like you were sucking my cock. Don’t stop.”

When they were dripping, he pulled them out and shoved them straight into your pussy in one smooth motion. You gasped, back arching.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he grunted, pumping his fingers deep and hard. “This pussy’s been waiting for me all night, hasn’t it? Tight as hell.”

He curled them perfectly, hitting that spot inside you with every thrust while his thumb rubbed rough circles on your clit.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers. Don’t be shy. You’re doing so good for me, doll.”

Your moans grew louder, legs trembling around his arm. He finger-fucked you relentlessly, never letting up, eyes locked on your face the whole time.

“Ben...” you whimpered.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You come when I’m inside you. Hold it together.”

He pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty and aching, and freed his cock again. He lined up and pushed in with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

“Fuck!” he groaned, gripping your hips hard. “So goddamn tight.”

He started fucking you deep and aggressive, the table creaking under you with every powerful snap of his hips. One hand stayed on your throat while the other gripped your thigh, spreading you wider.

“Eyes on me,” he barked. “That’s it. Take this cock. You feel how deep I am? This pussy belongs to me. Say it.”

“It’s yours,” you gasped, voice breaking as he pounded into you.

“Louder.” He slammed in harder, talking you through every thrust. “Relax your legs, let me in deeper.”

His pace was relentless, aggressive, hips snapping against you as sweat beaded on his chest. But between the rough commands there were those softer moments, his thumb brushing your cheek almost tenderly, the way he leaned down to growl praises right against your ear.

“You’re mine. All mine. No one else gets this. No one else makes me feel like this on my shitty birthday. Good girl, you’re making it all worth it.”

He shifted angles suddenly, hitting even deeper, and you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

The orgasm hit you hard, walls clenching around him as pleasure tore through you. He fucked you through it with deep, punishing strokes, groaning low.

“Fuck, that’s it. Squeeze me just like that. Good fucking girl.”

Only when you started to come down did he pull out, stroking himself fast. “Open your mouth. Tongue out.”

You obeyed instantly. He came with a deep, satisfied groan, thick ropes painting your tongue and lips. You swallowed what landed in your mouth, looking up at him with hazy eyes.

“Best birthday surprise I could’ve asked for.”