When I Get My Hands On You. (Soldier Boy Fic).
When I Get My Hands On You. (Soldier Boy Fic).
Soldier Boy/Ben x F!Reader 18+
Summary: Slight AU + 'Still Awake'. After everything, Vault decides it's better to keep Soldier Boy out of the way instead of putting him back under. Out of the way is a McMansion out of the city, a plot of land, a mountain and all the time in the world. He's got everything he needs, and yet there's still something missing. He figures out what it is very quickly when you show up. What a lucky man he is.
Song This Fic is Based On: Superbad Mantra - JAWNY, Christian Blue.
A/n: I'm so excited to post this fic, it was so much fun to write, and my first time writing for SB. I wrote, and rewrote this fic a couple of times, and this plot + ending just feels right. Let me know what you think. -Kash
Word Count: 3.5k
Tags & Warnings: 18+ Only, Cursing, Ben wanting you BAD, smut, drinking.
+
Never in a million fucking years would Ben admit to being tired of it all. The fighting, the anger, the planning, the business of it. But he is. Ben’s tired of fighting. He never wanted to be mixed in with Vault's new affairs. So he’s almost ecstatic when they decide to just keep him hidden in the woods instead of putting him under again. He’s their Golden God, (well he used to be) so their version of hiding him is a red brick Mcmansion 40 minutes outside the city. When he sees it for the first time he gets a wave of –I don't know– peace? Ecstasy maybe at the sight of it.
Let me paint the picture of Ben’s newfound paradise. It’s on about 15 acres of land, surrounded by woods with a little creek tucked inside. When you come down the driveway there are rows of pine trees shading the pathway. To the east there’s a mountain, about a 40 minute hike to get to the base of it and an hour to get to the top. To the west there’s a river, a quarter mile wide and too long for Ben to guess. Big enough for him to fuck off on it for hours and still not see anyone. He gets a dock, a pontoon, plus a couple of trails all to himself.
All on the promise that he stays hidden, & out of the fray.
If we’re being honest right now, even with all of this, Ben told them to fuck off. He isn’t a pet to lock away when he’s not needed, he has–had a life. He deserves a life.
“We can’t guarantee you a life outside of what we’re offering you now, Ben,” Jeremy, Vault's coordinating agent for Soldier Boy says. He’s a weasley looking man, short with neatly parted black hair & wire-framed glasses. They’re standing on the back deck of the house, looking out to the river as the sun starts to set. His suit’s a little too tight, and not at all fitting for the summer heat. He keeps pulling at his tie, and dabbing his forehead with his pocket hankie. “All we’re asking is that you remain here for now, and once we’re able to settle our affairs and guarantee you a position without ..” He trails off.
Ben already knows. “Yeah,” He’s annoyed. “ Once you can get my sperm mutant under control, I get it.” He nods, and mulls over the thought for a moment, taking a good look at the property. It’s honestly, truly, not a bad deal. He’s just pissy because—“I’m not stayin’ here without getting high, Johnny.” he says matter of factly.
Jeremy doesn’t even miss a beat, he’s nodding immediately. “Understood, Vault is very aware of your extracurricular activities and we’ve already supplied you with a month’s worth of—”
“I’m gonna need more.” Jesus let him finish.
“Yes, sir,” Jeremy wipes the sweat from the back of his neck, and pulls a phone out of his pocket. “We have a delivery guy coming once a week with groceries, as well as anything else you may need. Just text this number with your list and we’ll send him over asap.” He hands Ben the phone and motions out to the water. “This is a great offer, Ben. No other Superhero is getting a set up like this, unlimited food, wifi, a boat—”
“It’s a pontoon.”
He ignores him. “And enough weed, coke, and whateverthehell else to kill all of Manhattan if you want it.” He locks eyes with Ben, smiles, & It’s quite frankly almost eerie. “Just stay here and let us handle the rest.”
He sits on it for about 10 seconds, before nodding and turning the phone over in his hands.
“How long?”
And that’s just the least of it.
+
About a month into it, Ben starts to get a little….restless. Yeah, sure, that’s the word for it. He’s content with the land, and the food, and the drugs, and has even started a little garden. It’s not huge, but he’s already gotten a few sprouts from his potatoes, so that’s something.
However, he’s still Ben. Still Soldier Boy. Still a man of needs, and cravings like he’s always been. Only now it’s panged with something like loneliness. Maybe that’s all it is. Maybe it’s the memories of his old life, and how everyone he loved turned against him. He was a son of a bitch, so maybe he deserved it. Whatever, anyways—
It’s a tuesday night when he finally hits fuck it territory. He’s been watching porn for three hours, and is–honest to God–tired of his hand & a screen. He swipes out of PornHub, and looks up the nearest Gentleman's club outside of the city. Because that’s what he is, a gentleman.
He gets dressed and walks two hours into a small town and makes a beeline for ‘Synn’. It’s a ‘not too shabby’, but shabby, looking gentlemans club on the east side of town, right off the highway. It’s a one story concrete building with tinted windows, & nondescript except for the giant neon purple sign outside. ‘Synn Gentlemen's Club’ it reads, with the silhouette of a woman next to it. The inside does it a little more justice. It’s got dark purple walls, and an honestly very well stocked bar all on a landing, plus a few tables and chairs. The floor is scattered with stains, and the walls have a faint smell of cigarettes. The rest of the club is almost like one giant conversation pit, with stairs leading down to the main floor, & two main stages right in the middle of the room. Both stages have mirrors at the back of them, so wherever you are in the club you can get a view. God does he love the view.
Ben loves women. I don’t know if you know that, actually I know you don’t know that, but he does. The way women talk, the way they walk, move their hips, their lips, their touch, their smell, their taste. Fuck, he loves the taste. He’s a bit more partial to older women, but lately he’s bent his own rules. Twenty-four is the youngest he’ll go, and even then it’s…iffy. Maturity is a big thing for him.
Here he’s happy to bend his rule to accommodate. He sits in a darker corner, his hat pulled low, and just enjoys the show. An hour, and nine beers in, & He’s gained just enough confidence to catch eyes with one of the girls in the club. She’s pretty, not exactly his type, but pretty. Long blonde hair, and a tiny sparkly pink one piece that barely hides anything.
Believe it or not he’s shy. Tonight Ben’s shy. Only because he’s sure he’s toeing the line right now being here, but he's feeling more hands on, so when she asks if he wants a dance, he immediately says yes. It lasts all of two minutes. He wants more, but not with her, and he can’t even put his finger on why he stops her from asking if he wants to go to the VIP room, but he does. He pays her and immediately leaves.
Back to his hand. Back to missing….something.
+
A week later, right as he’s snorting enough coke to down two bull elephants off of his coffee table, the doorbell rings. He quick sniffs, and wipes whatever’s left on his nose onto his gums before standing up. “Shit,” he half groans as he wobbles. Everythings a little too turnt at the moment, so he immediately sits back down and puts his head in his hands. “Oooooh, shit.”
He’s about 40 seconds deep into an almost meditative state when the doorbell rings again plus five knocks. This time he hears a “Hellooo?” And a softer, “Fuck, it’s hot please hurry up.” from the other side of the door. He knows you don’t mean for him to hear it, he can’t help it. He wishes he didn’t. Everything is too bright, and too loud, and his jaw is starting to grind from all the coke so no, hearing you or seeing you for that matter is not on his list.
Regardless, when you start knocking again he’s up. In three seconds he’s around the couch, and swinging open the front door. The heat hits him immediately and so does the sight of you. Oh God she's gorgeous. He’s gotta lean on the doorframe a bit to keep steady, and get a good look at you.
You’re standing in the doorway with two arms full of groceries. He’d completely forgotten about …Matt? Max? The guy Vault hired to buy him groceries, toiletries, and drugs. The other day he let himself in when Ben didn’t answer the door fast enough. Ben was shitting, and didn’t hear the doorbell. Or the door open for that matter. He scared Ben when he walked into the kitchen, & Ben threw a chair at him. He–thankfully–only shattered his collarbone. Needless to say the poor bastard quit while being loaded in the ambulance. The important part of that story is you. Standing here now instead of Mr. Irrelevant.
Ben smiles at you and silently thanks God for the summer heat. Your gray T-shirt is just tight enough around your chest that he can see the outline of your nipples. I promise he’s trying not to stare, so he’s gotta work a little harder not to let his eyes drag down body.
“Excuse me,” He’s not doing a good job.You’re just so pretty, baby. Even when you frown like that. “I’m y/n,” You say it slowly and a little sarcastically. You caught him staring, he knows he deserves it. He honestly likes it. “Jeremy sent me to drop off your groceries since Jackson–” That’s his name! “–quit. I’d shake your hand, but,” You hold up the bags, & Ben immediately reaches to grab them out of your hands. You look too good to work at Vault. Long lashes, pretty lips, and the way your hips curve in those shorts. He’s gotta ignore how much he wants to-
“Let me help with those,” He cuts his own thoughts off. “Are there any more in the car?”
You nod. “Yeah there’s a lot more, let me help you at least.” You turn to walk back down the pathway.
He takes a few steps out, and too eagerly says “No, Ma’am. Let me get em’.” Ma’am.
You don’t even stop walking. You just wave him off and say “It’s alright, I want to help. Honestly if you want to relax I can get these unloa–” He’s not listening. He’s coked out & kind of dazed, but he’s still a gentleman. Sort of. He can’t help but to watch your ass as you walk away. Your shorts look perfect on you, and everytime you step your ass jiggles a little.
He just met you and he can tell you don’t like him. He stares too hard, his hair is a mess, he’s wearing stained sweatpants and a stained tank top to match (Had he realized you were coming he would’ve gotten dressed), and boy does he like you. He already knows he’d devour you if you give him the chance. Give em’ the chance.
It takes about six minutes to unload everything out of your truck, Vault’s truck as you tell him. They gave you something big enough to haul all of his things in. A shitload of food, clothes, toiletries, fishing equipment, new hiking boots, and a black duffle bag you weren’t allowed to look in. Ben helps as much as he can which helps speed the process along. Now, however, he’s just sitting at the kitchen island bouncing between small talk, and admiring you put his groceries away.
“So,” He puts his forearms on the countertop and leans in. “Are you from here or..” Ladies and gentlemen, Soldier Boy! Jeez, try a little harder.
“No actually,” You say, pulling a couple of cases of strawberries out of bags, before putting them in the fridge. “I moved to the city about a year ago when I got hired at Vaught.”
“And is this all you do?” You’re doing amazing, Ben. He cringes a little at himself for saying it like that. ‘All you do’ , it’s a little condescending.
You don’t even let it phase you. “No, actually, I’m Jeremy’s assistant and team lead.” You say before dropping down to a squat to load a few cases of beer onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. “I’m just here because I haven’t had time to hire a new personal shopper for you. I’ll have one for you by next week though, I promise.”
Oh, please don’t promise that.
He tries so hard not to watch you, but Jesus he can’t help it. He’s got his eyes locked on you. The muscles in your back move every time you pick another case up, & your ass is sitting so prettily as you sit on your haunches to balance yourself. You stand back up, languid and smooth and your legs are so fucking-
“Okay,” You say, turning back around. He’s looking straight at you, and praying you didn’t catch him staring again. Part of him hopes you did. “That’s about everything, I don’t think you need help putting your personal items away, do you?”
He fights the urge to say yes. “No, I-I’m good, but are you busy?” What is he doing?
You pause and your eyebrows raise. “Uh, well today’s my day off, but-”
“Stay for a bit,” It’s a statement he says more like a half-question. “If you’d like. I have a-uh pontoon, and I’ve wanted to take someone out on the river since I got here. It’s my thanks for you using your day off to come here.” He smiles, and tries not to be too obvious about how much he wants you to say yes.
“That’s kind of you,” You say smiling back before walking around the island towards your keys on the table. “but I have to go, I have a few errands to run.”
He’s good at hiding disappointment. He shrugs a bit, and keeps a warm smile. He can’t help but like the sound of your voice, even when it’s letting him down easily. “Okay, well can I ask you for a favor?”
You put your hands on your hips and look up at him. “Sure, what can I do for you?”
Sweetheart, so much. What he actually says is, “If you have time, would you mind coming again next week instead of someone else?” Oh he’s bold about it. “I just-” He shrugs. “I like our conversation. More than mine & Jacobs.”
You laugh, and it makes him wanna be good to you. “His name is Jackson, and I’ll see.” You look him up and down, and Ben swears you bite your lip a bit. “Let me see your phone, I’ll give you my number so you can let me know if you need anything else.” You hold your hand out, and he’s immediately passing his phone to you.
Oh he needs a lot. “Oh I need a lot.” He says before he even realizes it. Fuck.
You just chuckle and keep putting your number in. You’re cool, you’re so fucking cool, you know that? When you finish you hand it back to him, and his hand grazes yours. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t really like that.
“So if I text you tonight and say I need something, you comin’?” He says, saving your number.
“Nope,” You say matter of factly, walking to the front door. “But give me a week, if I can’t find someone for you, you’ll see me here again.”
He follows right behind you, eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. He does a little jog to grab the door before you do, and opens it for you. “Don’t look too hard then, that pontoon is just waiting for a chance at you.” And so am I. You give him a look at that statement, but say nothing.
He leans against the door as you walk out, and follows you all the way to the truck. “Can I only text you for things I need?” He says before reaching to open your car door too. Again, Ben is a gentleman through and through.
You sit in the driver's seat and ask. “Is there another reason to text me?”
He’s standing between you and the door now, and if we’re being real honest, he likes looking at you like this. The SUV is high enough that you’re eye to eye now, and he’s got a helluva’ view. He steps in a little & you’re even prettier up close. Nice cheekbones, pretty lashes, full lips. He puts one hand on the truck and keeps the other on the door, and leans into you a bit. His heart, Jesus, jumps a little when you don’t lean away from him. His breath deepens when you start looking him up and down too. Fuck, this is a moment.
Sweetheart, you’re givin’ him all sorts of ideas to hold on to, you know that?
“Absolutely, I needa’ get to know you a little better. Seeing as you know where I live and all.” He’s all eyes on you. His voice is kind of low now, and he can’t even help licking his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay a little bit longer? Let me cook you somethin’, show you how much I appreciate you, Y/n.” He’s practically drooling it out.
He’s–okay–he’s not even trying to hold back how much he wants you. His voice is too low, he’s too close, and looking you up and down too much for it not to be obvious. You clock it, immediately, and–against your better judgment–lean into him. So close that your noses almost touch, and you reach your hand behind him.
“I appreciate the offer but,” You say, grabbing the door. “I’m a little busy tonight.”
He wants you so bad it hurts, and he just met you. He can’t help it, he’s leaning into you, eyes closing, and–
“Ah,” You almost whisper, smiling and pulling back. This is so funny to you. “I’m not the one for that, but I appreciate the thought. Excuse me.” you look behind him to the door and he doesn't move at first.
Instead he just eyes you. He’s never had a woman play with him like that, and he’s torn between wanting more and none of it at all. You are the one for that, you’re just not there yet. You will be. He steps back, and you close the door, starting the car before rolling the window down.
“You have my number, Ben,” The way you say his name makes him want to howl. “Call me if you need me.”
“I promise I will, Y/n.” He says as you back up, turn, and pull down the driveway. He doesn’t go inside until your suv is out of his sight.
+
“Fuck, Y/n,” He moans, sitting back in his bed & jerking himself off to the thought of you. “Yes, baby, keep ridin’ it.”
He’s panting, eyes closed, imagining you on top of him. Fucking him like your life depends on it. He’s never heard you moan, but he's imagining something sweet, and addicting coming out of you. He starts bucking up into his hand, and imagines you whining at how deep he’s going.
‘Be-e-en,’ You’d moan, mouth open and drooling from how good he’s hitting it. You would grip his hair and bounce on him the way you know he likes it. ‘Ben, please baby, harder!’
He starts fucking himself harder at your imaginary requests. He’d do any–and everything you told him to, and quickly at that. “Fu-uck, y/n, you know I like that. You know I like that, baby.” He moans to no one, but the thought of you.
He imagines you swirling your hips on him, looking him in his eyes while you say, ‘Fuck baby I’m gonna cum. Ben, please,’ & he can’t hold it anymore. You are, even in his imagination, just too much. He cums all over his hand and stomach, and moans your name a couple of times for good measure.
And for a while he just lays there. Panting, eyes closed, mind full of you. Fuck ‘Synn Gentlemens Club’, you’re what he’s been missing. That thought really wakes him up. He just met you, and compared to the hundred other women he’s slept with in his lifetime, you knock him back a little. The way you talk, the way you walk, how you laugh, and even how you tell him no. You’re not taken aback by him, you don’t fear him, you toy with him a little bit and what’s worst of all is he likes it. He really likes it. He likes it so much that he wipes his hand off on his stomach and grabs his phone. Immediately finding your name and texting you a simple ‘Hello’.
+
A/n: Thank you for reading <3 If you want to be tagged in the next chapter you can DM me or reply to this post!
More Posts from Silkfyre and Others
Booty Calls, But Not
Pairings: Brahms Heelshire x fem!reader
Warnings: smut, kind of phone sex, almost caught, oral (fem receiving) mild sub!brahms, dom!brahms, hair pulling, rough sex
Summary: Malcom gives you a call but of course Brahms can't leave you alone.
You were sat in the living room reading a book as you usually did when Brahms was hiding in the walls. The snow was heavy only a few days ago, and because of that, the two of you were stuck indoors, salvaging the box of food that Malcolm had bought a week ago.
Because of the snow, you figured that Malcolm wouldn't show up until the snow had arrived; it was all just a waiting game for the two.
Finally, after hours of you wondering what Brahms was doing in that room of his, he decided to show up. He waddled into the room, his hands pinned to his side as he looked down shyly. His entire figure displayed an innocent boy, but his thoughts were the complete opposite. After sitting in his room for so long, Brahms had managed to work himself up from thoughts of you.
"What have you been up to, Brahms?" You ask as you close the book you were reading and give him all your attention.
"I want to do things to you." His voice was soft as he spoke up, but nonetheless, it still shocked you as you looked at him wide-eyed. While his words left you mildly stunned, the confidence in his voice turned you on, and you couldn't help but rub your thighs together. "Please, Y/n?" He begged as he took slow steps towards you.
Your eyes followed him intently as you watched him kneel down on his knees in front of you; you opened your legs for Brahms to crawl forward and leaned down and pushed his mask up. Your lips met his in a slow kiss.
His hands ran up your legs until they reached your hips, where he pulled you forward so you were sitting on the edge of the seat. "Pretty, Y/n." He mumbled as he lifted up your skirt, revealing to him the underwear you were wearing. "So, so, pretty." He continued as he leaned in and placed a kiss on the cloth.
He blew cold air onto your most sensitive area before licking a long stripe against your underwear. Your mouth had dropped open and your jaw hung slack as you breathed heavily.
Suddenly the phone began to ring, snapping you out of your intense trance. You reached over to pick it up but Brahms grabbed a hold of your wrists. “Brahms, it could be Malcolm.” You said before shaking off his hands. You picked up the phone and the voice of your delivery boy sounded through.
“Hello, Y/n. How are you?” He asked politely. You couldn’t get a response out as you felt Brahms push your underwear to the side and continue to flick his tongue against your clit.
With your lip between your teeth, you attempted to keep quiet to not reveal your actions. “You there?” Malcolm asked.
“I- Yes! Sorry, got lost in thought. I’m alright, yeah.” You stammered out.
“Good to hear.” He responded.
The feeling of Brahms kitten licking at your sensitive bud made you feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you tried to keep up with every flick. Your hand that wasn’t holding the phone was balled tightly into a fist to keep some sort of balance.
You kept the phone at a distance so that you could hear Malcolm but also so that he couldn’t hear your obnoxious breathing through the receiver. “The weathers been all over the place recently.” Malcolm interrupted the silence between the two of you.
Your hips were frantically rotating, on one end you were trying to receive more, but on the other you were trying to escape from the pleasure and Brahms wasn’t having any of it. His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you close to his face. “Snow everywhere...” Malcolm trailed off.
“Yes! The snow. I’m- will you come?” You asked through broken words.
Your free hand found itself lost in the dark forest of Brahms hair. His hair had grown a bit since you had arrived and while it wasn’t too long, it was long enough that you could create a cute man bun with chunks of hair hanging out the side. You tugged and pulled as you tried to grind yourself against his mouth. “I don’t think I’d make it. Most the roads are blocked off and my cars engine probably wouldn’t be able to heat up.” Malcolm explained. “I can try if you need though.”
“No! -I mean no, it’s fine. I’ll last another week.” You let out a poor attempt at a chuckle to disguise a moan that you couldn’t help but let out. You were getting closer and closer to snapping and your fingers were crossed that you could eat Malcolm off the phone before that.
“No worries. Do you think you’ll be alright out there, all on your own?” He questioned. You couldn’t help but smirk as you looked down at the boy between your legs.
“I’ll be just fine.” You breathed out.
Brahms pulled away from you, his mouth and the surrounding area covered in a mixture of spit and your juices. You frantically shook your head as Brahms began unbuckling his belt and pulling them down, his hard cock showing itself in full form. You almost drooled at the sight of the precum slipping out and dropping. “Well you have my number if you need me.” Malcolm said. You nodded your head but then silently cursed at yourself having been distracted by Brahms.
“Yes I do.” You we’re currently being turned around and positioned in doggy style as Brahms adjusted himself behind you. “I’ll call you if I need you, but for now I should go.” You rushed out as you felt the tip of Brahms dick rubbing against your entrance.
“I’ll let you go then. See you when I can, Y/n.” He said his goodbyes and as soon as you heard the beep of the phone, Brahms had pushed through your walls.
You let out a much needed moan as you slammed the phone down.
Brahms hips rolled against yours in a slow motion before he began to speed up. His movements went from grinding to thrust as he pulled himself out and pushed straight back in. Every thrust was with power as he fucked against your soaked cunt and every growl he let out was with meaning as he silently told you that you were his. While he didn’t like the idea of you conversing with the delivery boy, he would rather you do that then go and get the groceries yourself.
His hands kept a strong grip on your hips as he pulled you back against him with every thrust. “Mine.” He groaned out deeply. “All mine.” His hand reached around and rubbed at your sensitive clit to add extra pleasure.
You allowed your moans to fall out without a care in the world, no one would hear how loud you screamed if you wanted to, or were made to. “Brahms!” You cried as he hit the right spot. You whined as you tried to pull Brahms’ hand away from your clit, but he smacked it away and instead pulled you by your hair.
Your back was against his chest with an arch as he forced you in place. His lips connected with yours once more for a sloppy kiss due to the moans you both let out. Brahms then pulled away and pushed you back down, putting all his wait into his arms as he pushed against your back. Your moans became muffled as your face was pushed against the couch.
If someone was to stand outside the room they would hear the skin on skin slapping added with a mixture of low growls and muffled whining, people would think badly about the situation but what it was, was a good fuck.
Brahms was close, his thrusts beginning to lose the pattern as he chased for a release he had been desperately waiting for and you were close too, he could feel you clenching around him. “Fuck, Brahms!” While it wasn’t clear, Brahms could still hear you perfectly as he picked up the pace.
He knew you had cum as your moans turned high pitch and your body began to shake against his hold. His thrusts only lasted a few more before he paused deep inside you and released his seed. His cum painted your walls in white stripes as he hunched over your limp form. Both your breathing filled the room as Brahms finally released the pressure of your back. Your eyes clenched shut and you let out a quiet moan as Brahms pulled out. You could feel his cum leak out and drop onto the couch but you couldn’t care less in the moment.
“That was the hottest thing ever. You should do that more when Malcolm’s calling.” You suggested jokingly and of course Brahms took that seriously.
— penned by silk.
silkie :: twenty-five :: she/her
warning: this multi-fandom blog contains & potentially promotes mature content. If you are under the age of EIGHTEEN please do not interact. If you are easily triggered I may not be the writer for you as some of my work will include dark subject matter. Don’t be fooled by the soft aesthetic, we get crazy here.
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PAIRING: WOLFSTAR X FEM!READER
WORD COUNT: 2.2k
GENRE: ANGST & FLUFF
Sirius and Remus never really denied being possessive of you. You were theirs, just as they were yours. It was as simple as that. On most occasions, they couldn’t stand pairs of eyes ogling their girlfriend. The eyes that looked at you with lust and longing, and while that did aggravate your two boyfriends, they relished in the glints of envy held in the eyes of others.
They claimed you were only theirs—to look at, to touch, to love. They made it clear on every occasion, especially Sirius. Sirius was something of an exhibitionist; he enjoyed behaving extravagantly around every boy who even dared to spare a glance at his girl. He proudly stole you away, pressing a firm kiss on your lips, quite unlike Remus, who simply wrapped his arm around your waist, staring them down.
You had told them a day ago that Derek Edwards, funnily enough, a very intelligent Ravenclaw boy, asked you to help him on his potions essay. While you were skilled in potions, Derek was too, stirring up suspicion between Remus and Sirius.
Of course, it’s not as if they didn’t trust you, but Derek had a reputation amongst the students of Hogwarts. Incredibly funny, smart, not to mention, handsome. It was no surprise to them if he went after you, equally, if not more beautiful than him. Absolutely perfect in everyone’s eyes.
Of course, it’s not as if they didn’t trust you, but Derek had a reputation amongst the students of Hogwarts. Incredibly funny, smart, not to mention, handsome. It was no surprise to them if he went after you, equally, if not more beautiful than him. Absolutely perfect in everyone’s eyes.
And their suspicions were right. While you were doing your best to help Derek, his gaze remained on you, fixating on your lips and chest, mindlessly nodding to whatever you’d say.
Sirius scoffed bitterly, bouncing his knee almost frantically, staring at the Ravenclaw’s utter desire for you. “Fuckin’ look at him, Moony.” He spits bitterly. “Look at the way he fuckin’ looks at her.”
Remus inhales sharply, breaking his glare from Derek to you. His eyes softened as he scanned your face, looking for any particular fondness or affection. His lips pursed as he watched you laugh shyly, probably at a compliment given to you by the light-haired boy.
“C’mon love, you can’t deny it! You’re the smartest girl in our year, not to mention the prettiest.” Derek purred, resting his hand on your knee.
You shook your head, laughing as he continued his attempts to fluster you. “You’re too kind, Derek.” You smiled at him genuinely. The possibility of another good friend warmed your chest, and Derek’s essay was long gone. You discovered you and him had similar interests, liking most of the same books and the occasional muggle TV Shows.
Of course, what you didn’t know was that Derek was nodding carelessly to everything you mentioned, flickering his eyes from your lips to the frame of your body, and finally, the hand of his stroking your knee.
Remus felt his stomach churn at the sight of your smile; towards a boy that wasn’t him or Sirius. He gripped his quill tightly, swallowing hard as he tried his best to take his eyes off you. The full moon was approaching and he couldn’t risk doing something rash, especially when it concerns topics as sensitive as you.
Sirius on the other hand was practically losing his mind, eyes bulging from his sockets as he noticed Derek’s hand on your knee. He slowly felt the demon inside consume every inch of his body, burning away the remaining logic and reason within his heart. All that was left was resentment and hatred towards the boy sitting beside you.
“Fuck—Moony—I can’t fucking do this—look at the gits fuckin’ hand!” He whispered harshly, glaring at Remus who found the scars on his hands particularly interesting.
Remus tried to resist, but his ears pricked up at your sudden giggle. He stiffened, snapping his neck up to where Sirius was pointing, and—fuck—he was right.
Remus’ heart sped up at the sight of his hand, but what broke his heart, even more, was that you haven't peeled it off. He willed his hands to stop shaking as he fixed his eyes on your frame.
Internally, he knew how oblivious you were. It was harder than any potions exam he’s ever taken, attempting to prove his interest in you. Though, with the full moon being three days away, every irrational thought he’s ever had plagued his mind. His heart almost ached, the thought of Derek being smarter, perhaps even more handsome was too much to bear.
Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sharp scrape of Sirius’ chair against the hardwood floor of the Hogwarts library. Fully prepared to show Derek Edwards who you belonged to, he took one step before he was harshly pulled back by Remus.
Sirius’ eyes hardened and narrowed into slits as he looked up at the lanky boy. “The fuck, Remus?” Remus kept a firm grip on Sirius’ wrist, one that was almost painful. His eyes never left the back of your head as he spoke quietly to Sirius. “Don’t, Pads.”
Sirius’ lip quivered as he searched Remus’ eyes. “Godric, Moony—have you forgotten who Y/N fuckin’ belongs to? Have you forgotten she’s ours? The way that—thing—is looking at our girl?” He spat.
Remus’ voice was calm and collected, quite the contrary to the furious beating of his heart. “You’ll do something you’ll regret. You know she gets attention. I’m sure we have nothing to worry about.” He tried.
Sirius looked at his boyfriend, absolutely appalled. He huffed, looking at you once more before tugging his hand away from Remus’ tight grip. “Fine. But I wanna get out of here. I’ll lose my shit if I look at Edwards ugly face again.” Remus rolled his eyes, and couldn’t help but wish he agreed.
Sirius frantically packed up his bag before slinging it over his shoulder, tugging Remus along, storming away right in front of you.
As you and Derek laughed amongst yourselves, your eyes lightened up at the familiar giants walking past you. “Remus! Sirius! Hey!” You called happily.
Remus froze, looking at Sirius who turned around to meet your eyes. Remus reluctantly did the same, softening at the sight of your smile and hand, eagerly waving at them.
He broke his gaze from you as Sirius tugged his hand, muttering a quiet, “Let’s go, Moony.” Remus nodded hesitantly, looking blankly at you once more before following the shorter boy, not acknowledging your presence besides a mere glance.
Derek narrowed his eyes at them before beaming down at you, seemingly happy by their lack of response. You on the other hand were purely confused. The boys usually wouldn’t waste a second before greeting you with a hug and kiss.
You furrowed your eyebrows, watching them walk away from the library. They probably went to the great hall, you thought, frowning to yourself.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Derek’s hand squeezing your thigh. You jumped, staring at his hand in bewilderment. When did that happen? You glanced at the boy beside you and shifted away from him, suddenly feeling a flood of dread overcome you by the foreign hand on your thigh.
“Oh, uh, Derek.” You cleared your throat as he hummed, smiling slyly down at you. “Dinner’s approaching, let’s finish off things here, alright?” You watched his smile drop before reluctantly nodding. “Oh! Of course.” He grinned.
You nodded slightly before standing up to back your things quickly. You were in a rush to see your boys, they acted so strange minutes ago. Besides, you missed them quite a lot.
Now that the tutoring session was over, you were practically free for the next week. Perhaps a couple of trips to Hogsmeade, you thought, now excited as ever to propose the idea to your boyfriends.
Without sparing a glance or even saying goodbye to Derek, you took off, rushing through the corridors of the school to make it to the great hall, where you presumed Remus and Sirius would be.
Alas, you were right. There they sat, eating quietly, occasionally nodding at James as he howled in laughter. Your eyes lit up as you skipped over to where they were, taking a seat on the wooden bench beside Sirius.
“Sirius!” You cheered, setting your bag down. You smiled at Remus, who only spared you one glance before gesturing to Sirius, who nodded back.
Together, they both stood up and sat on the other side of James, quite far from you. Your heart sank at their actions, watching as they refused to acknowledge you, which was quite strange, as you hadn't done anything wrong, at least, not that you could recall.
Perhaps leaving them alone was the best thing, and the full moon was approaching soon too, so maybe they just wanted to protect you and keep you away, you thought.
A sudden voice in your head erupts. Those are just excuses, it whispers, they’re sick of you. They’ve come to their senses.
Your eyes sting with tears, though you blink them away, shakily exhaling before standing up and walking out of the hall, ignoring the questioning looks from Lily and Marlene.
What you fail to notice is the sinking of Remus’ heart, who droops his shoulders and hangs his head low, feeling a burst of guilt overpowering his fuming jealousy. If he had any appetite in him before, he certainly didn’t now. He was overcome by complete nausea.
He peered up at Sirius shamefully whose eyes were fixed on the entrance of the room, where you once walked out of.
Sirius too, still overcome by anger, felt a sense of longing and anguish. Perhaps it was the best idea to ignore you for now. To cope with the intense feelings inside his heart, to keep him from lashing out at others.
However, after looking at your deflated face, he wants nothing more than to just hold you and ask for reassurance. To hear it from your mouth, you’re all I want, Sirius.
He looked back at Remus, gazing at him pleadingly. Remus nods and together, they both leave their food, friends, and anger, and are set out to look for only you.
As they make their way up the stairs to your dorm, their hearts disposed of all the previous envy they once held. And as they both stood before the door of your dorm, neither could muster up the courage to open it. That fear intensified as they heard your soft sobs and hiccups.
Startled and without thinking, Sirius mutters Alohomora, before twisting the doorknob to reveal your small frame.
Their hearts broke as they looked at you, head lowered in embarrassment as you attempted to wipe your tears frantically. Sirius looked up at Remus to await further instruction, but his heart sank even more as Remus looked at you in utter dread, eyes glossed over.
His stare breaks away from Remus to you as he hears your hoarse voice. “M’sorry…for whatever I-I did. I really am.” You sniffled. “W-What did I even do?” You whimpered, looking up at their tall forms.
Remus shook his head before walking up, hand hesitantly reaching out for you.
“N-Nothing, my love…nothing. It’s just—fuck—it’s just us.” He whispers sorrowfully, stroking your cheek, attempting to wipe your tears away from your face. His other hand reached up to pet your hair soothingly, calming you down.
A sudden gasp could be heard from the corner of the room. Both you and Remus looked up to see Sirius with a look of complete horror on his face. “Y-You…you didn’t know, did you?” He breathed out.
You scrunch your nose in confusion. “Know what?” You urged him to continue, previous sadness now replaced with annoyance as you sat confused as to what caused all this to occur.
“Edwards,” Sirius mutters. “That Edwards was flirting with you.” You shook your head in confusion before your eyes widened in realization. “Jealous,” you began. “You two were jealous?”
Remus shamefully looked down, knowing that you disliked it when they reacted irrationally to their jealousy. “We hadn't seen you in so long, poppet. To see you, with—him,” Remus grunts. “It was horrible.”
“Godric, pup. You should’ve seen the way he looked at you! This whole time! Our darling girl never noticed a thing.” Sirius laughed bitterly, more so to himself for hurting you.
You smiled shyly, before nodding in agreement. “I didn’t. Only until afterward did I notice his hand was on my thigh, but that was it.”
Both their eyes snapped up as they looked at each other furiously, before turning to you with a look of worry. “Your thigh? Last time we saw, his hand was on your knee!” Sirius gritted out before walking towards you, embracing you tightly, peppering quick pecks on your neck. You laughed in amusement as you squirmed away from his touch.
You suddenly looked up at Remus, narrowing your eyes. “Out of all people, I’d think you’d know a thing or two about communication in a relationship.” You pointed out, playfully.
Remus simply rolled his eyes before grinning wolfishly. “We get quite rash when people touch what’s ours, I’d have to admit.”
DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ON OTHER SITES — 0x81 ON TUMBLR
That Unwanted Animal
18+
Homelander x Soulmate!reader
You don’t love Homelander. Even when he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.
Loosely based on this post from @blindmagdalena
His t-shirt is soft under your hands as you cling to him. The baseball cap shields his features from you as presses you against the alley wall. The blue fabric rubs against your cheek as he thrusts up into you. The both of you avoid eye contact and as you bury your face into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne nearly chokes you. You thought it would be easier like this. You’d believed that maybe without the suit you could pretend your “lover” was a normal man. Maybe the two of you had met at a bar, or a doctor’s office, or while walking dogs in the park. You could have been an ordinary couple with a soulmate story fit for a Hallmark movie.
But a change of clothes can’t distract you from the fact that this man, your soulmate, is the very man you’ve dedicated your life to bringing down. It’s a sick joke, isn’t it? You love your team. Hughie is always there with a shoulder to cry on. M.M. gives good advice. Frenchie and Kimiko have become almost like siblings to you. Even Butcher you hold fondness for, as infuriated as he often makes you. They’re your family and yet you’re here fucking enemy #1 in a filthy alley and he’s going to make you come.
You bite his shoulder to keep from crying out as he effortlessly holds you up. It would be easier if he was bad in bed. The soulmate bond would still suck ass, but at least you wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. He came so fast the first time you fucked him that you’d initially been relieved. It had been perfect until he’d spread your legs to lap his own come from you until you’d shuddered helplessly against his tongue. You’d gone home and cried after, despite the pleasure still pulsing warmly through your veins.
You can’t even say it isn’t consensual. Your bond causes you to ache for him viscerally. Hell, this time you sought him out. He didn’t even protest when you laid out your terms. He had seemed more amused than anything. When he showed up wearing civilian clothing like you demanded, you almost turned him away with tears pricking at your eyes.
He looks soft, human, like someone you could love, a real soulmate. Even as he pumps into you, the peek of blond sticking out from beneath the cap makes you ridiculously endeared against your will. If only he was anyone else…
Soulmates have always been romanticized to a ridiculous degree, despite everyone knowing a story of some person who is enslaved by their mark instead of liberated. There are many things that can tie two souls together besides love. Yet everyone still longs for the day they find their match, in hopes of the happiest of endings. You had been no different.
You whine and clench around him as he angles himself differently, his cock sliding even deeper into you until it feels like you're choking on it. Your mark burns and the empty pit in your stomach that lingers in his absence is washed away with each heated pulse. The nausea of being away from him finally subsides with each brush of your skin against his. He sighs happily into your hair, as the same sense of belonging envelopes him. This feels right and it makes you want to scream.
“Mine,” he growls against your temple.
“Yours,” your bond answers for you.
You only ever fuck him in comfortless places.
Your heels dig into his ass and you rock yourself into his thrusts. He nips at your ear gently…affectionately. He can’t distinguish between true love and the oppressive obsession that comes with a mate. You don’t love him. Things would be easier if you did.
Why couldn’t he be anybody else?
“Is this good?” He asks needily. He can sense your distraction. He wants to be good for you. He wants to please you. You flutter around him and one hand strokes the back of his neck tenderly despite the mental torment that you’re facing. No one has ever been so attentive during sex before. He makes you feel cherished. Even when you beg for him to make it hurt, he refuses. The same hands that have commited endless cruelties hold you like something rare and precious.
You don’t answer and you can feel his petulant frown against your skin as he waits for feedback.
He adjusts you effortlessly in his grip so he can stroke you exactly the way he’s learned you like it. You whine desperately as you leak all over his fingers and drip onto the ground below. He sighs at the feeling.
“I love you so much.” He whispers intimately into your ear. His sincerity makes you want to weep. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”
It doesn’t matter how many times you rebuke him or refuse his offer to take you home with him. He still believes that you feel the same. He believes that one day he’ll find you soaking wet at his penthouse door, having run across the city in the pouring rain to him, confessing how much it hurt to push him away. He wants the satisfaction of knowing that you abandoned your team from sheer want of him. He thinks of your situation as a romantic comedy that hasn’t hit the emotional climax yet.
It’s pathetic and delusional and you hate how close you know you are to fulfilling it. You don’t love him…but you know you could.
Despite how hard you try to resist, you come hard and you sob into his neck at the intensity of it. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he rubs you through it. You kiss him to shut him up and he groans into your mouth as he releases inside you. He kisses you back desperately, seeking whatever crumbs of affection you let yourself give him, using them as proof to fuel his delusional fantasies.
Once you’ve both ridden out your respective orgasms, he finally pulls back to look at you. The softness in his eyes belongs to a kinder man. Your stomach flips. His cap has been knocked slightly askew and he looks human. He frowns slightly and the hand he was using to bring you pleasure brushes something off your cheek.
“You’re crying.” He remarks, hand now cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin in an attempt to comfort you. You want him to be rude to you the way he is to everyone else. You want him to mock you and make crass disrespectful remarks. You open your mouth to reply and a broken sob comes out. He hushes you softly and leans down to kiss the tears that roll down your cheeks
“I love you.” You confess finally, the truth is bitter and shameful in your mouth. You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself
“You say that every time. Are you actually going to follow through or are you going to deny yourself some more?” He asks dryly, cocking his head at you. His grip flexes as he continues to press you against the wall.
You both know the answer. Just like you both know that one day the answer will be different.
Your team better succeed before then.
A Dark and Winding Road || Travis Hackett x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]
---
Summary: A late night on a long, dark road in the middle of nowhere. An exhausted, small-town cop itching to give you a speeding ticket. Surely a little flirting would go a long way to get you out of trouble, wouldn't it?
CW: dubcon, vaginal fingering, blowjobs, f!reader, use of "ma'am" to refer to reader
Word Count: 4.6k
AO3 Link ---
You took one hand off the steering wheel and shook your arm, trying to loosen your tightly-wound muscles, feeling your fingers locked into a semi-permanent grip. You couldn’t remember how long you’d been driving anymore--had it been hours? Perhaps weeks? It was all hyperbole of course, but that’s where your mind went after being stuck in your car for so long, all in the name of trying to make it to your cousin’s wedding that you weren’t even sure you wanted to attend. You glanced down at the clock—just a little before midnight.
“Ugh. Eight hours in this fuckin’ car,” you mumbled aloud to no one in particular. “I’m gonna pass out if I don’t stop soon.”
It had been since a little after sundown since you’d been able to find a rest stop where you could get out and stretch your aching legs, with no apparent relief in sight; your phone had lost signal long ago, and the crisp paper map you’d picked up before leaving town was no help in finding any local landmarks. Even if you’d a gas station along this godforsaken long and winding road that felt like it stretched on forever, you got the impression that this wasn’t the best place to stop—you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, and even stepping a foot outside the car felt like it could be the last thing you did. What if there were feral vampires? Or a murderous family who’d chase you through the woods and skin you alive? Or worse yet—what if there was a kind-hearted but lonely local who hadn’t seen a soul for hours and wanted to engage in small talk about the weather when all you wanted to do was buy some chips and borrow the bathroom key?
“Okay, okay,” you whispered to yourself, exhaling slowly, “this isn’t a horror movie. Get it together.”
You inhaled deeply, promising yourself you could make it a while longer—you weren’t tired or sore at all, you clearly just needed a little fresh, woodsy air to revive you. You rolled down your window and let the cool night air rush against your face, hoping it would keep you awake along enough to reach civilization, or at least somewhere that had cell phone towers. You blinked hard to clear your vision, but the road seemed to grow longer and longer as you rounded every curve, the forest closing in on you from both sides, encroaching on the road and nipping at the edges of your fragile sanity. Between the loud rush of wind whipping through the car and your laser-like focus on the highway, you hadn’t even noticed the fact that your foot had slowly pressed further and further down onto the accelerator—you were too busy squinting at the darkened, narrowing road ahead of you to pay much attention to your speed.
Unfortunately for you, however, the cop car that suddenly appeared behind you had definitely been paying attention to how fast you’d been going, as blue and red lights began cycling and lighting up the inside of your car.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you exclaimed through gritted teeth as you slowed to a crawl and pulled off to the side of the road. You shut the engine off, your headlights still shining off into the black void in front of you, and let your hands rest on the steering wheel. This was the last thing you needed—a dark and winding road in the middle of nowhere, no signal on your phone, and now some backwoods cop who was probably wanting to play big and tough to scare the out-of-towner. Your heart raced in your chest, panic settling in, as you peered into your side mirror to watch the cop slowly get out of his car, lingering for a moment as he looked around before he started towards you.
As he got closer, you caught a glance at him—he had dark hair, and seemed a bit older than you expected. He looked tired, but in a charming sort of way, the way people look when their internal tuning fork has been struck just a few too many times and they’re on the verge of a breakdown. Something about him was unsettling but attractive, and as you tried to slow your breathing, you supposed, in a sick way, that there were worse-looking people to be pulled over by if you had to be pulled over at all. He approached your car, looking as though he were already exhausted of your interaction, and knocked on your window; you hurriedly rolled it down, fingers shaking.
“Evening, officer,” you croaked, a saccharine smile plastered across your weary, anxious face. “How can I help you?”
He glared at you a moment, his dark eyes intense and unnerving, before abruptly asking, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
You cringed, expecting perhaps a little bit of polite, small-town small-talk before getting right into the matter at hand. “Um, well, I dunno, I wanna say maybe… 60? 65?”
“Try 72,” he condescended. “Do you know what the speed limit is around here?”
“Ah well, I’m not too sure, it’s pretty dark and I didn’t see any signs.”
He chuckled derisively. “Probably because you blew right past the sign. And for the record, it’s 55.”
“Oh, I see.” You lowered your eyes, trying to consider your next move. “I can’t even believe I did that, officer. Look, I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sorry?”
You offered him a grin as you placed your hands on the window frame—time to turn on your patented charm and hope for the best. “Yeah, I’m really sorry I even bothered you, officer—” you squinted at the nameplate on his chest pocket “—Officer Hackett. It’s just so late, and I’m really tired. I’m just trying to get upstate for a wedding, and it’s so dark—I was focused on the road, and clearly I wasn’t paying attention.”
“That’s an understatement,” he snipped. “You could have killed someone going that fast.”
“I mean, there’s not exactly anyone out here except for you and me, is there?” you asked suggestively.
He shifted, seeming a little surprised by your forwardness. “Well… there can be folks out here sometimes. Animals too.”
“I’ve had to avoid a few squirrels in my day, I think I’d probably survive.”
“These ain’t exactly squirrels,” he scoffed.
You looked up at him, wide-eyed. “What, are there bears?”
He looked off into the dark of the road ahead of you, seemingly distracted. “Yeah. Bears.”
“Sounds dangerous. Good thing you’re out here to protect drivers like me, officer,” you flirted. You saw a flush start to creep across his face, and his eyes darted around; it seemed like your charms were having an effect on him after all. “So… can I go?”
“W-what? No, of course not, you were speeding.”
“Aw, come on, officer. It’s late, I’ve got that wedding to get to tomorrow evening, and I’m sure you have a wife to get home to?”
“No, ma’am, I do not,” he huffed, seeming a little rattled.
You rested your chin in your hand as you looked up at him, blinking softly. “Oh. Then a girlfriend, perhaps?”
“No, I—look, what is your point?” he said, refusing to allow his eyes to meet yours for more than a moment.
“I’m just saying, I have somewhere else to be, and I’m just assuming a handsome gentleman like you must too, so I’ll agree to be more careful and we can call it good. What do you say, officer? Do a good citizen a favor and let me keep passing through the middle of… well, where are we exactly?”
“You’re in North Kill, ma’am.”
“North Kill? That’s certainly ominous, isn’t it?” you chuckled.
He sighed, finally returning his gaze to you, his dark eyes boring a hole right through you. He placed his wide hands on the window frame on either side of yours and leaned in, his voice low. “You think you’re being real cute, don’t you?”
“Maybe? You tell me officer,” you smirked, as you titled your head towards him.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, sounding rattled, as he took a few hasty steps backwards away from you. “Step out of the car, ma’am.” Your mouth hung open. “What? But I didn’t—” “I said step out of the car.” He was more forceful this time, a sternness in his tone that both frightened you and—strangely, secretly—excited you.
“Fine, fine, I’ll get out of the car.” You threw up your hands and flung the car door open. Your legs felt like columns of jelly as you planted them on the concrete; you told yourself it must be from the extended hours you’d been stuck in the driver’s seat and the adrenaline rush of being pulled over, but you knew, deep in the recesses of your mind, that it was the situation—the isolated setting, the way you seem to have flustered the handsome cop with your charms, the fact that he seemed to be reaching his breaking point with you and had suddenly turned from annoyed to authoritarian—that had an unexpected heat building between your trembling legs.
Officer Hackett looked you up and down as you stood next to your car. “Have you been drinking tonight?”
“What?” You shook your head. “No, of course not.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his stance widening as he looked at you like prey. “Then walk a straight line for me. Heel to toe.”
You composed yourself, took a breath, preparing to turn the charm back on; you were the one who had initiated flirtation, you weren’t going to allow him to have the upper hand. You smiled demurely, and gave a wink. “Why? You wanna watch me walk away, officer?”
He stared at you with half-lidded eyes. “Ma’am, just do as I say.”
“Yes, sir,” you said with a lilt. As you walked slowly in front of your car, the headlights illuminating you, you made a show of swinging your hips with each step, your thin cotton shorts (the ones that were perfect for sitting comfortably in your car but not much else) crept up your thighs, exposing more and more of your legs as you walked heel-to-toe as instructed.
“O-okay, I think that’s enough,” he choked, after you’d completed a few paces.
“Well?” you asked, hands on your hips, an eyebrow raised questioningly as you strutted back to your car. “Am I drunk or not?”
He looked you up and down and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Finally he sputtered, “You think you’re hot stuff, don’t you?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that, Officer Hackett.”
He smirked, running his tongue across his lower lip. “You know, I gotta say, for such a lovely thing, you’ve got a real smart mouth on you.”
“Do you say that to everyone you pull over or am I just special?”
The look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to turn coal-black, told you that you had finally pushed him as far as you possibly could. “You know what? Just… alright. You’re gonna be like that? Put your hands on the hood of the car and spread your legs.”
“A little forward, don’t you think?” you said mockingly, mouth agape, as you strolled towards the front of your car.
“Don’t make me tell you twice.” He walked behind you and placed a hand on your upper back; you gasped as he pushed you forward, forcing your open palms onto the still-warm steel of the hood of the car.
You stood there, utterly still, your heart drumming away in your ribcage, as you stared ahead into your empty SUV. You heard him pacing slowly behind you; it sounded like he was a few steps away. You expected him to say something, anything, but moments passed without him uttering a word. What was he doing? Was he just trying to unnerve you, get back at you for toying with him? Was he going to do something to you? You felt heat rising in your face, your ears beginning to burn, as you took one shaky breath after another while you waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The world grew noiseless around you, the sounds of your own pulse and the occasional rustle of leaves in the distance the only things you could hear; the night was deathly still and you felt like you were the only two people in the world left alive. If he was trying to frighten you, it was working.
Suddenly, you heard him approach you, his shoes grinding into the gravel, and you could feel the heat of his body bearing down on you. He stood next to you as he slid one hand—warm, firm, trembling just the slightest bit—up your bare arm, onto your shoulder, and onto the back of your neck. He gripped you slightly as he grew closer, his face hovering next to you yours, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered, “Now what am I going to do with you?”
You inhaled sharply and stammered, tripping on your words as you tried to come up with an answer, your brain suddenly filled with a haze of arousal as your mind started to wander. He had you trapped here, alone and vulnerable, without another soul for miles it seemed—what could he do to you? “I—I don’t know, officer… w-what are you going to do with me?”
“This.” He loosened his grip on the back of your neck and let his hand glide down your spine as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, as he placed his other hand on your hip and slowly, painstakingly, slid it around to the front of you, pausing as his palm landed at the apex of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your warmth, barely clothed in your thin shorts and panties. He pressed his fingers down, rubbing firm circles over your sensitive clit; you let out a groan as you felt a rush of heat between your thighs and a painful ache begin to build.
“Is this, um—is this standard procedure, officer?” you choked out as your whole body shivered at his touch.
“It is if I say it is.” He slid his hand down the front of your shorts and let his fingers snake their way into your panties. He ran two fingers along your slit, taking his time to explore every bit of your slick, swollen lips. “Goddamn it, you’re so wet. You wanted this, didn’t you?”
“I guess so,” you mumbled as your eyes fluttered shut.
“You guess so? Come on now. Shaking your ass at me while you walked, asking me if I had a wife, the way you cooed and blinked those pretty eyes at me… that feels like a little more than ‘I guess so.’” He parted your lips and pressed two fingers against your entrance, teasing your quivering hole as you whined, desperate for him to enter you. He finally obliged, sliding two thick fingers into your waiting cunt, dipping them in and out slowly.
“Fuck,” you hissed as you felt yourself clench around him, any resolve or sense of dignity you had in you quickly unraveling, as you leaned into the pleasure washing over you.
“Mmm, not just trying to get out of a ticket, then?” he teased as he twisted his hand and pressed his thumb on your swollen clit.
“N-no,” you whimpered as you started to grind your ass against him, rocking your hips in the same motions as his fingers.
“That’s right. You were working too hard to get me riled up just for that, huh?” He continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, pushing them in as far as he could, his hand quickly becoming drenched in your wetness. “I think you wanted me to take you like this,” he growled in your ear before he dragged his tongue up your neck, tasting the saltiness of your skin.
You couldn’t respond, your mind rendered empty as you felt your legs start to tense and your pussy quiver and quake around him. It was too much—you could only let out a string of sharp cries and moans as his fingers caressed your most tender spots, his thumb still dancing over your clit.
“Mm, finally got you speechless, huh? Too distracted to run that pretty little mouth.”
You had nothing left you could say except for a few exclamations of “Fuck!” as your legs started to wobble under you; he gripped you more firmly around your waist to hold you steady as he began making frantic motions over your clit and pushed his fingers as deep into you as he could, his knuckles pressing against your tender flesh. With a few last thrusts, you felt yourself clamp down around him as your whole body tensed and air was forced out of your lungs; you came with such a sudden jolt that you knew you would have crumbled to the ground if it weren’t for his arm wrapped around you. It was deliciously overwhelming, the feeling of him pressed against you as you cried out into the still air of the night, his fingers still deep within you as you spasmed and convulsed; you had never felt as defenseless and exposed as you did at this moment, your body quaking uncontrollably as you were detained by the side of the road, your bodies wreathed in the ambient light from your headlights and the sliver of moon hanging in the inky sky.
He slowly removed his hand from your shorts, his fingers deliberately dragging over your wet slit, the overstimulation causing a last few shocks to rocket through your body. Your mind was a mess of flurried thoughts—you wanted to ask him why, wanted to run, wanted to collapse, wanted to cry for more, wanted to lay down in the backseat of his squad car and beg him to fuck you in the cool stillness of the night. You opened your mouth but couldn’t sort through enough of your jumbled thoughts to come up with anything other than a garbled “Thank you” that hitched in your throat.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he rasped. He walked around to the side of you, leaning against the car hood and diligently wiping off his hand before tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket. “Think you can walk okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you replied as you gained your footing, dragging your feet closer together, leaning your weight on your palms.
“Then c’mere.” Before you could protest, he grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you around to the side of your car that faced away from the road; you stumbled as you trailed behind, your legs still unsteady and practically useless. He pulled you towards him as he leaned back against your car door, gripping your arm tighter and pulling your hand down to the front of his slacks; you could feel his erection straining against the stiff fabric.
“Feel what you did to me with all that teasing?” he groaned as he pressed himself into your palm. “I’d like you to do a little something for me now. Get on your knees.”
You wordlessly complied, dropping onto the ground below, the gravel and dirt immediately grinding into the tender flesh of your bare knees.
He breathed heavily as he reached down and stroked the top of your head, his fingers drifting down to stroke your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this,” he murmured as he unbuckled his belt, unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. “Now why don’t you put that smart mouth of yours to good use, hm?”
He slid himself out of the fly of his boxers, and you took a moment to admire his cock; it was thick, with a light upward curve, the head swollen and pink, waiting for your touch. You gripped him with one hand, teasing the tip with your tongue, causing him to quietly gasp. You traced your eager tongue down his length, winding it around the shaft, before taking him in your lips. He let out a sharp hiss as your warm mouth enveloped him, and his hands grasped at your hair to anchor himself. He swelled and pulsed as you slowly drew him in and out of your warm, wet mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you reached the tip; with every pull, his breaths grew quicker and more ragged, his groans deeper and longer. As you reached up and placed your palms on his thighs to steady yourself, it was clear that your teasing had stirred something deep within him—just the same as he had had done to you—and the shallow thrusts of his hips as you greedily took him deeper in your mouth told you it wouldn’t be long before his frenzy would reach a fever pitch.
He slid one hand down to the back of your head and held you in place as he pushed himself down your throat, forcing rivulets of spit to dribble out of your mouth and drip onto the dirt under you. He fucked your willing mouth in ragged, uneven strokes, as his moans grew even louder and his movements frantic. Before long, you felt his hips begin to shudder and the muscles of his thighs tense under your palms; he slowed down and gave a shivering inhale, and hot ropes of salty cum shot down your throat. You held him still in the warmth of your mouth, slowly lapping him with your tongue, pulling every last spasm you could out of him, taking every last drop of him that you could, before slowly, torturously, pulling away, releasing the head of his cock with a wet pop. He stood for a moment, panting, his breath harsh and ragged, as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against your car.
You stayed still on your knees in front of him, suddenly reminded of the gravel and dirt pressing into your flesh now that you were without distraction, and winced a little.
“That was… that was something,” he finally uttered between unsteady breaths.
“I aim to please, officer,” you grinned as he shakily reassembled himself, sloppily tucking his shirt back into his pants and fumbling a bit with the buckle.
He retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and leaned down to you, wiping the errant drool from your chin and the corner of your mouth before extending a hand to you to help you up from the ground. Your aching legs crumbled as you put weight on them, pitching you forward into him; you shared an awkward moment of unintended intimacy as your hands gripped his chest and your face came close to his, your lips almost touching, before you quickly gained your footing again and took a few hasty steps backwards. You felt a deep heat rising in your cheeks as you looked away from him; would it have been that awful to kiss him? you thought to yourself, before deeming yourself silly for even entertaining the thought at all.
You glanced down at your knees, covered in dirt, small pebbles ground into your inflamed flesh, pinpricks of blood starting to drip in spots. You saw the officer glancing down at them as well—he leaned down and brushed them off with his wide hands. You mustered an unsteady smile. “Good thing I’m wearing a long dress to the wedding. People might get ideas about what I’ve been up to recently.”
“Would they be wrong?” he asked, his voice still heavy with lust.
“I suppose not,” you shrugged. You crossed your arms, hugging yourself a little as the night air started to chill you to your car, goosebumps forming on your exposed limbs. You dug the toe of your sneaker into the dirt. “So, does this mean I’m free to go, officer?”
He chuckled softly. “I think I can let things slide, just this once. But don’t let me catch you speeding like that again around here.”
“Or what?” you taunted.
He walked back over to where you stood, and gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his face hovering close, his lips nearly brushing yours as he spoke. “You don’t want to know.”
“If you say so,” you uttered, sucking in a sharp breath.
He ran his hands down your arms, giving your wrists a squeeze, before he started to walk away. He paused as he reached the rear of your car. “You know,” he said, placing one hand on the back of his neck, “there’s a motel not too far from here. Harbinger Motel. Just keep driving for about fifteen minutes and take the first road you see on the right. Follow it for a little while, and the motel will be on the left. Can’t miss it. Probably be better off staying the night there and getting back on the road in the morning.”
You leaned against the side of your car, one hand on your hip, head tilted to one side. “You know, I gotta say, it’s more than just a little creepy out here; I’d feel a lot safer if I had a member of law enforcement with me this evening. Care to escort me?”
A sudden redness spread across his face as he offered you a bashful grin before turning away. “Have a good night, ma’am. Stay safe.”
“You too, officer.”
You climbed back into your car and turned the key, the familiar purr of the engine and the vibration under your feet grounding you, returning you back to reality. You looked in your rearview mirror, half-expecting to see nothing but darkness, wondering in your haze if everything had just been some fever dream and you were really just pulled off into a ditch, passed out from the hours of driving. Instead, the weakened legs, the wetness between your thighs, and sore jaw were confirmed as real when you saw the patrol vehicle still parked behind you, its lights dimmed, Officer Hackett standing by his open car door. You offered a wave out your window as you carefully drove off back into the night, still struggling to make out the road ahead and hoping you wouldn’t miss your turn.
You continued on the road as instructed, keeping your eyes as wide as you could, making sure you didn’t overlook the hotel; you were exhausted, your head empty, your only thoughts being how much you couldn’t wait to wash the dirt off your sore knees and collapse into bed. As you focused your eyes on the cracked grey pavement before you, you wondered if you’d ever be able to tell anyone about the night’s events, if anyone would ever believe something as cliché as the corrupt cop taking advantage of the willing out-of-towner on the side of a desolate road in the middle of nowhere; if it weren’t for the fact you could almost still feel his wide fingers inside you, still taste his cock on your tongue, still hear his low, quiet groans echoing in your ears, you wouldn’t even believe it yourself.
You sighed with relief as you finally saw the Harbinger Motel up ahead, its looming, glowing red sign hard to miss even in the foggy night. As you approached, you glanced up into your rearview mirror, and just for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the glint of a car following behind you in the blackness.
LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND
character/s: eren jaeger x afab!reader
SYNOPSIS: eren isn’t very happy to sit back and watch his best friend, who he is very much in love with, date another man. everyone has there breaking point, you were his. (4.2k)
WARNINGS: 18+/mdni, cheating (not on reader or eren), slight angst, praise kink, fingering, penetrative sex, no condom (remember to wrap it up y’all), heavy cursing, a little bit of soft eren mixed with simp eren, some mean eren sprinkled in there, a dash of pining, mocking, technical exhibitionism, some degradation, i hope i don’t miss anything
A/N: i seriously don’t remember sitting down to write this, also eren finds literally any and every way to insult your boyfriend
Keep reading
When he makes you laugh during sex and then you feel his hands tighten on your hips and his jaw clenches, muttering a stiff “ease up,” while he tries to stop himself from cumming early because “if you keep squeezing my cock like that I’ll cum.”
I wish you would write a fic where….
Sinclair bros. gang bang tbh
Alright Nonnie, here we are. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while but the maximum number of people I've ever had sex with at the same time is one (1) so it was kind of daunting to tackle three at once (heh). It got away from me a little bit on the buildup but I hope you like it! Happy to write more like this in the future so if you want me to give it another shot, lmk.
The Sundress
Poly!Sinclairs x Hinge!AFAB!Reader
Smut, group sex, oral, voyeurism, praise kink/dirty talk, no pronouns used but reader wears a sundress, gets called "doll" and "pretty"
This morning you decided to wear a very particular sundress.
You found it at a thrift store on a solo venture into town. It was cute, had a tiny floral print and ruffles on the straps. It wasn’t completely your style, but there was just something about it. It fit your frame perfectly and at the same time, it was both scandalously short and devastatingly low-cut. You wondered if it was too much as you gave the skirt a little twirl in the dressing room mirror. There was a time when you wouldn’t dare wear something like that out of the house for fear of the attention it would attract.
Now, however, the only attention that existed in Ambrose was much more than welcome.
You went ahead and bought it. The thought of each of your boys’ reactions made you giddy and a little smug. You hung it in your closet and waited for the right day to come along to bring it out: a day when you felt especially sexy and particularly devious. A day when things had finally calmed down after a long and busy week in which you all barely saw each other and most definitely had not spent any quality time together.
That morning, you took a few extra minutes getting ready. The stars had aligned for your little plan. Your hair was gorgeous. Your skin was glowing. You looked like a snack and felt like one too. You practically pranced down the stairs despite admonishing yourself to play it cool.
Bo and Vince were at the breakfast table, enjoying a leisurely morning after the hectic week. Bo had his nose deep in a Clive Barker novel, absently sipping his coffee. Vincent was chewing on toast and sketching.
“Good morning,” you say cheerfully, pulling open the fridge and leaning forward just a little to see if there was any orange juice left.
You hear Vincent stop chewing. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you watch him hit Bo in the arm, his eye glued to you.
“What the hell d’you – oh my.” Bo’s eyebrows shoot up and he immediately places his book facedown on the table. “Well good mornin’ to you, doll.”
You flash them a sugary smile as you pour yourself the dregs of the juice. Vinny’s eye is wide as a saucer. Bo is actually licking his lips. “Did you guys sleep well?”
“Sure did,” Bo says. “What d’you have planned for today? Anything…in particular?”
You perch on the edge of the table, skirt sliding up beneath your ass just a little bit. “It’s supposed to be real hot today, so I figured I’d go through and water all the flowers one more time.”
Vincent is scribbling absently back and forth over his half-finished sketch. “Good plan,” he signs. “Need any help?”
“Nah, I think I’ll be alright. I can manage a hose, you know.”
“Yeah I bet you can,” Bo murmurs.
You smile at him. “What do you have on the list today?”
Bo talks and Vinny signs at the same time.
“Nothin’ much – ”
“Basically nothing – ”
“ – just gonna clean up around the station a little – ”
“ – probably going to do some inventory of art supplies, super boring – ”
“ – definitely gonna be, y’know, a little bit lonely….”
“ – could use some company for sure….”
A giggle almost escapes your lips. “Well, maybe I’ll catch up with you later.” You hop off the table, adjust your skirt, flounce to the doorway and then turn around. All eyes flick back up to your face. “Hey, when does Lester get back?”
“Lester?” Bo says flatly.
“Late, I think, very late,” Vincent signs.
“Oh, okay. Good to know. Bye guys.” You give them a little wave.
The morning passes with a shocking number of chance encounters. Something is broken in almost every building you visit, and Bo simply must fix it today. Similarly, Vincent informs you he needs to do a spot check of wax figures to make sure they’re holding up alright, and wouldn’t you know it, there are flowerbeds nearby every single one.
Watering flowers is hard work, and you can’t possibly be blamed for the sheen of sweat that glistens on your face and arms, nor the number of times you are required to bend over a planter box, nor the fact that you filled the watering can too full and splashed a little water on your bodice and Bo missed his aim with a hammer and smashed his thumb.
When the heat of the day rolls around in the mid-afternoon, you decide to break for lunch and head back up to the house. The twins are nowhere to be found. You are halfway up Main Street when the rattle of a familiar truck engine reaches your ears.
You turn around and beam at Lester, who is quite literally hanging out the driver’s side window. “Hey stranger!”
“Hey yourself,” he says, parking the truck in the middle of the road. “You look – well, now – that is a mighty fine dress.” He blushes.
“Thank you!” You give him a twirl.
His mouth is actually hanging open. He quickly closes it and swallows hard. “Y’know, I would…I’d offer you a ride, but…how ‘bout I just walk you home instead?”
“I would love that.”
Lester climbs out of the truck and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. He is remarkably clean, nothing but a few bloodstains below his knees. He offers you his arm, which you gladly take.
“Don’t you need to move the truck out of the road?”
“Nah, it’ll be fine. Nobody comes here anyway. What have you been up to?”
“Oh, just watering flowers. It’s hot today.” You toss your head, fan yourself.
“You’re damn right. Been workin’ up a sweat, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Geez.” He cannot take his eyes off you. “Where’re Bo and Vincent?”
“I’m not sure. They’ve been hanging around all day, but I haven’t seen them for a minute.”
“Yeah I’ll bet they have. You’re prettier than a field o’ phlox, honey.”
You squeeze his arm. “Thank you, Les.”
He stops at the edge of the yard. “Hey listen. Lemme go change outta these clothes, then why don’t you and I sneak over to that lil meadow on the east side o’ town? Do a little catchin’ up.”
“That sounds lovely.” You start towards the house.
“Ah-ah, why don’t you wait here? I’ll just be a minute.”
You frown innocently. “But Lester, it’s hot.”
“Well I’ll grab you a drink and bring it back out with me. I jus’ don’t want you gettin’ sidetracked is all.”
“Okay I guess.” You shrug your bare shoulders.
“Be right back, sweet pea.” Lester kisses your cheek, immediately turns bright red, and practically leaps up the front steps and into the house.
Today has been quite the success so far, you think as you kick at the edge of the lawn with a sneakered foot. You’ve been in Ambrose and involved with the Sinclairs for a good while now; it’s nice to know you can still fluster them when you feel like it.
You wait around for a fair few minutes before the front door opens and Vincent steps out, beckons you. “Hey angel, why don’t you come inside? I’m almost done with lunch.”
“Aw Vinny, that’s so sweet of you. But I told Lester I’d wait for him to finish changing.”
“C’mon, you know he’ll be a while. He’s got no concept of time.”
“You’re right about that. I am pretty hungry.”
You climb the stairs, step inside. Vincent shuts the door. Your eyes fall on Lester, who hasn’t even changed yet, standing next to Bo, who has his arms crossed over his chest. Vincent comes up behind you, weaves his strong arms around your waist, holds you against him. You furrow your brow in mock bewilderment. “What’s going on, guys?”
“You’ve been a regular little cocktease all day, that’s what,” Bo says.
“Me?”
“Yeah you.”
“It ain’t fair,” Lester pipes up.
“Prancin’ around all day lookin’ like that.”
You can’t help but smirk and shrug. “Sorry.”
Vincent drops his hands to your hips, pulls you a little closer. You feel a half-established erection pressing against your ass.
“Well, lucky for you, we’ve all come together and decided on a solution,” Bo announces, moving leisurely toward you. “You wanna put on a show, darlin’? We’ll let you put on a show.”
A thrill shoots through you. “Well I suppose that’s only fair.”
“More’n fair, I think,” Bo says as he squares up in front of you.
The first press of Vinny’s lips to your neck sends chills down your back. Bo takes your chin in his hand and bends to capture your mouth. You feel Vincent suck at the thin skin behind your ear, relishing the salt of your sweat.
Already your brain begins to fray with the input of so many sensations at once. You put one hand over Vincent’s, grip Bo’s shirt in the other, and have almost forgotten there are three Sinclair brothers when you feel a gentle brush of fingers on your left thigh, then your right, and then Lester’s hands are beneath your skirt and sliding your panties down. You wonder where he can possibly fit in this arrangement for only a second before you feel his tongue on your sex.
A hopeless moan escapes your throat and Bo breaks your kiss. You open your eyes and note with satisfaction that his face is flushed beneath that smug expression.
“I sure do love seein’ you flustered, darlin’.”
“Right back atcha, sugar,” you say.
Oh, but he does love a spitfire. He seizes your lip with his teeth, running his thumb over your collarbones. Vincent slips the straps off your shoulders and continues his adoration of your skin. Lester, ever the dark horse, already has you unsteady on your feet with long, slow licks. You weave your fingers through his hair and arch your back as Vinny’s deft hands slip beneath the fabric of your dress to cup your breasts.
When you cannot possibly hold yourself up any longer thanks to Les’s ministrations, they disentangle themselves for a brief, heartbreaking moment so you can weave to the couch. You ease yourself back against Bo’s chest, let him hold your wrists in place around his neck, all but trembling with anticipation as Vincent positions himself at your entrance.
“Now darlin’,” Bo murmurs in your ear, “I don’t want poor Les feelin’ all left out here. So why don’t you keep your eyes on him while Vin makes you feel real good, alright?” You nod desperately, lock eyes with Lester, who winks at you. Bo cups your jaw, thumbs your lip. “An’ I’ll be right here, makin’ sure you know what a good job you’re doin’, what pretty sounds you’re makin’. Does that sound okay, doll?”
You open your mouth to respond and Vincent, ever the opportunist, picks that moment to ease himself into you, all the way, an inch at a time. The whine this elicits from you is positively wicked and you hear Bo chuckle against your temple.
“Goddamn, baby, you’re so much fun.”
As Vincent picks up the pace, hands running over your legs, you do your best to keep your gaze fixed on Lester, whose hungry expression leaves you feeling a whole new level of naked. All the while Bo pours a steady stream of praise and filthy commentary into your ear, rutting against your backside as his twin draws a series of sinful sounds from your lips.
Eventually Vincent trades Bo and Bo trades Lester, and you have the unique and genuine pleasure of experiencing the techniques of each one of them in quick succession. Somewhere along the way you are lost in oblivion, your body electric, lavished in kisses and caresses and admiration from all sides.
When at last you are spent and so are they, Bo brings you a glass of water, Lester plants a tender kiss on your brow, and Vincent carries you up to bed.
And that sundress sits in a heap on the floor, forgotten for now, until the next time you decide to capture your lovers’ attention.
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