#jackles

a/n: accept this as a peace offering while i work on requests

18+ content ahead—minors do not interact. preferably watch in private, not public. you must be logged into x (twitter) to watch the videos below. ૮꒰ ˖˚⊹ ꣑ৎ‎ ꒱ა

only angels’ have wings

tw. trailer park princess! reader x soldier boy. alcohol use. pillow humping. age gap. reader is of age. southern aesthetic. icky ben! loss of virginity (r). p in v. cowgirl position. creampie. pet names (baby, honey, dolly, sweetheart.) sex under the influence. title from only angels have wings - nicole dollanganger.

the trailer park squatted at the edge of town like a stray dog too tired to bite. rust-buckled trailers leaned crooked beneath a bruised southern sky, porches sagging under ashtrays and dead plants and old men too drunk to remember what year it was. weeds swallowed fence posts whole, cicadas screamed loud enough to drown out the highway. every evening smelled like wet dirt, gasoline and somebody frying meat in reused grease.

dirty and sometimes too rough, but the only home you’ve ever known.

you lived in lot seventeen with your mama’s old floral curtains still hanging in the windows and a busted washing machine sitting permanently in the yard like lawn decor.

and three trailers down in lot twenty, lived ben.

nobody called him soldier boy around here. not unless they were stupid. to everyone he was just ben- the broad-shouldered veteran with mirrored aviators, cigarettes tucked into the sleeve of his white T-shirt and enough violence simmering under his skin to make stray dogs avoid his porch.

he’d arrived six months ago in a black pickup with new york plates and a duffel bag that looked heavy enough to carry bodies. folks whispered, said he killed a man in pure rage. said the government was after him. said he wasn’t right in the head.

you mostly noticed how lonely he looked.

sometimes late at night you’d see him sitting shirtless on his trailer steps under the jaundiced porchlight, smoke curling around him while old songs from before your time crackled from a radio inside. almost like he was waiting for something that would never come back.

one afternoon he caught you snooping out the window, your fingers gently folding the curtains back and he smiled. whistled and held up his lit joint like an offering, frowned when you cowered back inside with wild thoughts and a pillow between your legs, pink panty clad pussy grinding against the plush while thinking about him.

the first time he spoke to you, you nearly dropped your groceries.

“hey, dolly.”

you froze halfway up your porch steps, clutching a paper sack full of canned beans and bread. ben leaned against the railing of his trailer porch, beer bottle dangling from two fingers.

“ya’ got a second?”

you glanced around like maybe he meant somebody else but there was nobody else.

your cheeks went hot as you crossed the dirt path between the trailers slowly, flip-flops crunching over gravel. up close he smelled like old Spice and cigarette smoke and something metallic underneath. blood maybe. or motor oil.

ben looked you over in that lazy dangerous way older men did around town sometimes- except somehow meaner and softer all at once.

“you livin’ at seventeen, right?”

you nodded.

he tilted an empty beer bottle toward you.

“need a favor.”

you stomach fluttered nervously, what could ben possibly need from you?

“…what kind?”

“the gas station down the road. he reached into his pockets pulling out crumpled bills. “need’a beer.”

you blinked, boots nervously scuffing against the dusty road. “they won’t sell it to me…”

“sure they will.” he held the money out. “ya’ got one of those faces.”

“what’s that suppose to mean?”

“innocent, young. just flash em a bit a cleavage’ they’ll serve ya.” he said it like it amused him, no hesitation at how inappropriate his words may be.

mama always warned you about men like ben. men with charm sharpened into weapons. men who smiled like they’d already survived the electric chair once before. you should’ve said no. its inappropriate and illegal.

but you’d been lonely yourself for so long that sometimes loneliness made bad ideas feel holy.

so you took the money.

the corner store sat beside an abandoned car wash twenty minutes away on foot. neon faulty beer signs buzzed in the windows. old men crowded around scratch cards whistling when you walked past, cleavage on show just like ben had said.

you bought the cheapest six-pack they had and the cashier barely looked you in the eye. on the way back you didn’t pull your top back into place, you wanted ben to see what you did just for him.

“took your sweet time.” he called.

you held up the plastic bag. “they only had warm ones..”

“tragic.”

he stood and took the bag from your hand. his bruised knuckle velvet fingers brushed yours, eyes trailing down your body, lingering at your chest.

your heartbeat stumbled.

he pulled a beer free and cracked it open against the railing, liquid sputtering down his fingers.

“you want one?”

“I’m not really supposed to drink..”

he barked a laugh. “jesus, kid.” then he looked at you again, slower this time. “i aint’ gonna ask again.”

you should’ve walked home then. instead you made your way up his steps, boots clanking against the wood taking a seat next to ben.

ben laughed when you coughed after the first sip.

not a mean laugh. low and rough and surprised, like he hadn’t expected anything genuinely sweet all week.

“easy there, sweetheart.” he leaned back in the rusted lawn chair, boots kicked up on the porch railing. “beer ain’t’ supposed to be fought hand-to-hand.”

you wiped your mouth quickly, embarrassed. the can felt ice-cold in your hands, condensation dripping over your chipped polished nails.

“it tastes awful.”

the bitterness made your face scrunch up. ben smirked around his cigarette.

“jesus’ ya really never drank before?”

you shook your head.

“not even at parties?”

“i- i don’t really get invited places…”

the words slipped out before you meant them to. bens expression shifted into something- not pity but worse somehow. like he understood too well.

“you serious?”

you shrugged staring into the can. “people around here think I’m.. weird.”

“that’ so?”

“mama says I’m too soft.”

ben huffed smoke into the humid night air. “ya’ mama’s probably right.”

you glanced at him, fingers tight around the metal.

“but” he added, “ain’t the worst thing to be.”

the beer made everything warmer after a while. your cheeks tingled. your limbs felt floaty and loose, porchlight glowing syrupy gold around the edges.

ben watched you carefully.

“you okay?”

“mhmm..”

“ya’ sure?”

you giggled unexpectedly at the seriousness in his voice. “think my head’s fuzzy.”

“that’ll happen.”

he stood then, broad and imposing even in the dim light and crushed his cigarette beneath his boot.

“cmon’ dolly.”

you blinked up at him, “where?”

“inside. before mosquitoes carry you off.”

bens hand closed around your elbow as you stood before you could stumble. the touch sent a strange nervous flutter through your chest.

“tsk. ya’ lightweight.” he muttered.

“sorry..”

“s’ alright, sweetie.”

the rusted door of the double-wide groaned as ben pulled it open, the stale scent of cheap beer and unwashed denim washing out into the humid evening. the inside was dim, a single yellow lamp casting long shadows over a sagging couch, empty bottles scattered. He kicked the door shut behind you, the latch clicking loud in the sudden silence.

his eyes narrowed, hands still holding on your hips as you looked up at him nervously.

“yknow why i invited you here, dont you smart girl?” he mumbled.

you nodded breathe heavy lingering with his.

“say it.”

“b-because you want me… and i want you..” you whispered.

“thats right. ya gonna’ let me pop that cherry right here on my couch.” he let go of your chin and stepped back, pussy fluttering at his words.

your hands shook as you fumbled with the buttons of your blouse from the excitement that ben could actually like someone like you. he watched patient as a cat, his eyes tracing every inch of skin you revealed- your collarbone, the curve of your breasts in their cotton bra, the trembling line of your belly as you pushed your shorts down your thighs. when you stood before him in nothing but panties and bra he let out a low whistle.

“sweet’ jesus.” he muttered, his hand moving to the front of his jeans, palming the obvious bulge straining the denim. “turn around let me see that peach.”

you obeyed turning slowly, your hands clasped behind your back. his palm landed flat on your bare hip then slid down, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheek. he squeezed hard enough to make you gasp

“perfect body, honey.” he breathed. “now get on the couch for me okay?”

you climbed onto the worn cushion, knees sinking into the ancient foam as you faced him. he unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, watching your tongue peeking out between your lips like a puppy to a bone. He didn’t bother pulling his jeans off- just shoved them down enough to free his cock. springing up thick and heavy, the head flushed with a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

“this is what’s gonna fill that tight little cunt.”. he said, wrapping his fist around the shaft, giving it a slow stroke.

“i-its big..” you mumbled innocently.

“thats okay honey, feel better snugged in that little hole.” he settled onto the couch, back against the armrest and pulled you onto his lap. your thighs straddled his hips, the rough denim of his jeans rasping against your sensitive inner thighs. his cock pressed against your belly hot and hard. he reached between you hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tore them off with one sharp tug.

“no need for those..” he grunted tossing them aside.

his hand slid down, fingers finding your pussy. they were rough and calloused, knowing exactly where to press. he circled your clit with his thumb, laughing as some of your juices sputtered onto his hand.

“look at you..” he murmured, his eyes dark and hungry. “so wet already. you were made for this weren’t you? made to take my cock.”

you whined deep in your throat, hands digging into his shoulders. “mmmf- mhm.”

he lined himself up, the fat head of his cock nudging your slick folds. you felt the pressure, the stretch and you braced yourself.

“ready, dolly? say ya want it.”

“i want it.” you whispered, voice trembling but sure.

he smiled and then he thrust up. the pain was sharp, a burning stretch that stole your breath. you whined out, your nails digging into his skin. he held your hips stilling you, letting you adjust.

“shh.. take it slow.” he said with a voice surprisingly gentle. “first time always hurts.”

you nodded tears pricking your eyes. he stayed still with just the tip buried inside you until you relaxed. then he slid deeper inch by inch until he was fully seated, his balls pressed against your ass.

“fuck- yeah..” he groaned, his eyes half-closed. “feel that? your so tight. so fuckin’ tight.”

he gave you a moment to breathe then he began to move—a slow deep grind that rocked your whole body. his hands found your hips, guiding you into a rhythm. up and down, your pussy gripping him sliding down his length. each stroke sent fresh waves of sensation through your core, the pain melting into a deep aching pleasure.

“thaaats it..” he encouraged. “ride me. show me what you got.”

you found your pace, your body moving instinctively, your breasts bouncing in front of his face. he leaned forward taking one nipple into his mouth sucking hard, his beard grazing the sensitive peak. you moaned with your hips moving faster, the friction building into something urgent desperate.

“i-im close i think..! you gasped though you barely understood what that meant.

“good job dolly- cream on my dick..”

his thumb found your clit again rubbing in tight circles and that was it. the orgasm crashed over you like a wave your whole body tensing, your pussy clenching around him in rhythmic pulses. he groaned his hips thrusting up chasing your pussy burying himself deep as he spilled inside you hot, thick filling you up.

you collapsed against his chest, breathless your skin slick with sweat. he wrapped an arm around you holding you there, his cock still twitching inside you.

“good job, honey. did so good just f’me.”.

“j-just for you ben..” you mumbled breathlessly and full, letting yourself sink into his warmth.

minors in adult spaces you are not 'mature' for you age if you cannot follow a simple boundary. if you lie about your age, you are also endangering the adults you contact, it's not just about your safety. just because you yourself are comfortable or going through puberty and need to get off, it does not mean you should interact and cross a very explicit boundary. this also brings me to mdni blogs who pick and choose specific minors just because "they write good smut" or "they're almost 18 anyway". if you have a boundary, then enforce it. you are making the 'mdni' label seem like a joke. don't call yourself 'mdni' if you're not.

disregard on kink etiquette there is a difference between writing dark content and normalizing real, dangerous situations. do not interpret real life cases of abuse as inspiration for your fanfics. i remember some time ago, there was someone requesting about elvis presley and his history with a minor. also, if you are into unusual things and someone is against it, it's so easy to not interact. do not step over people's boundaries just because you feel like they have more morals than you. nobody cares what you're into as long as you keep it in your own space, it doesn't harm anyone, and you don't force it onto others.

talking behind people's backs i see no issue with shittalking as long as it's something you would say to the person upfront or have no intentions to interact with the person. to mock, belittle, and 'drag' someone behind their back is, honestly, strange. most of you are above middle school age, act like it. the issue is not with shittalking, but with pretending you are above it and do it.

whining about interactions it's okay if you're frustrated that a post isn't doing well, it's okay to post about it. readers these days on tumblr need to be reminded that to keep the fanfiction ecosystem alive, you should reblog. however! posting stuff like "omg, i'm gonna quit if i don't get 100+ likes" or "all of you better like rn" just makes you look odd. write for yourself or you always get burnt out.

sympathy baiting no, you cannot have bpd nor any cluster b disorder if you are under 18 unless you have an explicit diagnosis from a professional. no, you cannot post smut as a minor just because you were groomed and normalize sexual content. no, you cannot jump into adult spaces just because you're 'mature for your age'. no, adults are not the bad guys for setting boundaries. no, mental illness isn't a silly label to put in your bio for extra points.

trauma dumping without asking we are not your therapists, we are not licensed, and no one on here wants to play babysitter to someone at risk of self destructive behavior. if you need help, then seek it irl. if you cannot, then advocate for yourself. you will not get better by being a whiny bitch about it on tumblr. you will not get better if you complain about things in your control to stop.

BOYFRIEND!SOLDIER BOY

Okay so we all know how soldier boy is all unhinged and fucked up and really rude towards everyone. And I bet we all know that we would be that person who he wouldn't be rude towards. Like his... weakness, to say it somehow. (MDNI: mean & possessive soldier boy, mentions of sex, explicit content, age gap if you squint).

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that gets annoyed with you pouting cause your feet hurt, but he gives you a piggyback ride nonetheless and massages your feet afterwards too. He would never tell you to not wear those shoes cause he fucking loves how they make your legs look, but he would groan as soon as you complain.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that groans and grumbles everytime he sees a couple being cringe on the street. Kissing, holding hands, he hates any type of public display that isn't sexual. But when he's with you? When you grab his hand, you can almost see him smiling and he would kiss you hungrily, in a way that leaves no space for doubt that you're his and only his, everytime a douchebag looks a little too much at you.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that leaves bruises on your skin during sex and pretends to not care, but from time to time he would ask if anything hurts. After he fucked you dumb, he would bring you a glass of water and make you drink it. He would never say outloud that he cares, he would pretend that he treats you as a toy only, but he does. He shows on those little things.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that would throw at you painkillers after you complained for period cramps. He would tell you to walk it off or to not be such a baby, but he would ask you if a heated pad would help and he would get it for you with an annoyed groan, but nonetheless.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that would kiss you senseless right before he makes you duck your head and take his hard on your mouth. He would be mean about it, “take it like a big girl”, “is that all you got, princess?” He would fuck your throat and every now and then he would remind you to breathe. He wouldn’t want you dying with his cock on your mouth —not literally at least. He would take it out to let you fill your lungs, just a moment before shoving himself back in, making you choke around him and that would only make him let out a breathy laugh.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that would groan when you suggest movie night. Specially when you say you want to watch some chick flick and pout when he says he doesn’t want that. He would eventually give in, but he’s definitely distracted throughout the film, caressing your breasts between his big hands and pulling you closer to him so you two can cuddle.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben that would flip off everybody, specially those who dared to ask something of him. But if you did? His little doll? He would groan, but complied anyway. He loves doing things for you, even if he tries to pretend he doesn’t.

⋆｡°✩ Boyfriend!Ben with eyes that only show any sign of softness when you’re around. If he’s dealing with anyone else, his eyes are cold and dead. But with you they are warm, they always are. He only puts up a front so no one notices how his gaze softens. But you notice, you do it everytime. You’re just gentle enough to not bring it up.

⠀꒰⠀⠀hands on ; 𝓢𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝓑𝐨𝐲⠀ ࿐ ׂ  𑄽꣒ ˖

⠀𓂅⁩⠀ 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ⁺ ꒱⠀choking, unprotected sex, manhandling, gagging with fingers in mouth, drooling, small dirty talk, ben cums on reader’s ass + back.⠀ ⊹    𓈒

⠀©⠀𝒇𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗁𝗀𝖿⠀᭝⠀2026.