Work Text:
Sniper’s been acting... odd.
He's normally not the most normal guy, you can say that for sure, but he’s been even stranger recently. You'd managed to work your way up to what you'd say was more than just coworkers. A wave in the hallways when you pass each other, small talk over the coffee pot in the morning, you making little jokes to him on poker night. Somewhere between acquaintance and friend.
But something’s changed.
No more are the days when he used to share facts about the local lizards that roamed around the base. He doesn't bring you back souvenirs from his endeavors on the weekends into the wild, no more rattles from a rattlesnake or a neat rock from a stream. So you take a step back. And try not to think about your extremely handsome coworker. Sure, you steal a few looks here and there. Who wouldn’t? At least you’re keeping the distance that it seems Sniper wants from you.
But this? This is so wrong. It’s an invasion of privacy. Sniper surely didn’t mean to leave his door open a hair, just enough where a sliver of light shines into the dim hallway to reveal its secret.
Its secret is Sniper out on display. He’s actually inside today. It’s far too cold out in his van with no heat. It’s almost too cold in the base with central heating- though, it’s shoddy at best.
He’s nearly naked after his shower. He’s trifling through a hastily packed bag of unfolded clothes in just a pair of boxer briefs. When he turns toward the door you jump back, heart beating in your throat. He saw you. He had to see you.
Sniper says nothing. He would’ve said something. Right? The thrill has you burning up, your face uncomfortably warm as you peek in again.
He’s not looking at the door. But he is facing the wall next to it, exposing his front.
His waist and legs run for miles, it feels like, long and lithe and speckled with dark hair. Sniper isn’t jacked, no, but he’s well built with muscled arms and shoulders and a little paunch around his gut that's so befitting of him.
He whistles as he slips his pants on, jumping into them and latching his belt.
Get a hold of yourself. You’re here for a reason. Reluctantly you step back. And take a deep breath. Or at least, you try to calm your breathing.
One. Two.
You knock on the door. “Sniper?”
He’s silent as he opens the door the rest of the way, his work shirt haphazardly pulled on.
“Um. Engie wanted me to ask you if you, er, wanted to eat with us?”
“I’ll think about it. Thanks, mate.”
That’s all he says, giving you a nod before shutting the door with a click.
You finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. He didn’t see you. He couldn’t have seen you.
Sniper, unsurprisingly, doesn’t join the rest of the group for dinner. You’ve managed to calm down. Until your mind starts to wander and visions of his arms and his shoulders flood your vision and it’s like a punch to your gut, nearly knocking the wind out of you.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you excuse yourself early.
If you don’t take care of your little problem you think you might pass out. Your head is way lighter than your feet, like you’re floating down the hall to your room. Inside the overhead light is flicked off leaving just the bedside lamp on. The first thing to go is your shoes, and then your coat, a chill dancing across your skin. It’s hard to care about the cold when all you can imagine is him.
It wasn’t when you first saw him. No, you can’t say he was that captivating at first glance, face hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and a crooked hat.
It was when he spoke.
I’m runnin’ out of places to put holes in ‘ya.
You weren’t sure anyone was supposed to hear him, how low his voice was. You could’ve passed out with how quickly the blood rushed from your head and below your belt just from those simple words.
It only got worse from there.
Your breathing is picking up again and you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. You only get two down.
Someone’s knocking. Great. You want to get this over with so you can masturbate in peace so you swing the door open and-
Oh. You swallow.
It’s him. He’s fully dressed in his uniform and not in a state of undress, the images honey-coating your brain.
“Um. What do you need?”
“Can I come in?” He asks in his gravelly tone. Of course you nod and step aside so he can come in.
The door barely clicks shut before Sniper has you by the collar of your shirt, his face too close for comfort with a grimace on it. He pushes you into your dresser, the look on his face shifting to something else you can’t place.
“I thought you were a spy when I saw you starin’ at me earlier,” he lets out a dry laugh that’s more of a growl. “You’re just a peepin’ Tom. Leadin’ me on wasn’t enough for you, was it?”
“H-Huh?” You breathe out. It’s not sexy how close he is. It’s not, and you need to convince yourself now before you actually pass out from how lightheaded he makes you.
“Don’t play stupid with me.”
Wait. Leading him on?
“No, I- what do you mean, leading you on?”
He bares his teeth and exposes his sharper than average canines. “You know what I mean. The smiles. The jokes. I heard you and Demo laughin’ about it.”
And then, of course, it clicks. Demo’s been making fun of you about your... thing for Sniper. For a man with one eye Demo saw right through you when it came to Sniper.
“Sniper, no, you- no! I wasn’t leading you on. Demo, he..” you sigh. “I told him I thought you were handsome. Okay? So now he’s teasing me about it and he has been. For weeks.”
Handsome is just scraping the surface of what you’ve said to Demo, but you figure a little dignity is good to keep.
You’re not so much aroused anymore as you are nauseous and nervous with a rapidly forming stomach ache. You can’t even look him in his shaded eyes.
“Sorry for making it weird. Can we just act like this never happened?”
His lack of a response finally draws your gaze back to him. He’s staring at you, as if he’s expecting you to say more. Is he expecting an apology?
“And I’m sorry earlier for looking at you while you were getting dressed-” you blurt out but Sniper’s grip tightens on your shirt. He pulls you in even closer.
“Why were you lookin’ exactly?”
“Um.. I-I.. I don’t..”
This is awful. You shouldn’t have answered the door. You could’ve already gotten off by now and be ridden of the consequences of your sinful desires.
“Don’t play coy now. Come on. Tell me,” Sniper growls.
Something’s changed, be it the air around you both or how his brow’s lightened.
“I.. I just wanted to see if you were there, and, um.. you were..”
“So you kept on lookin’ at me?”
You can’t talk anymore so you just nod and try to not press your thighs together to try and relieve the pressure that you shouldn’t have building between your legs. Why does he have to be so close, and why does he have to smell so good? He doesn’t even smell of cologne. It’s his natural scent and the shared laundry detergent on base that shouldn’t be sexy but it’s driving you up the wall.
“Well, ain’t this a sight?” Sniper narrows his eyes. “Must be embarrassing to get all worked up over me yellin’ at you, huh?”
“Yes! It’s very embarrassing,” you try to shy away under his gaze.
He leans in, whispering in your ear, “Come on, now. Say the words, darlin’, and I’m all yours.”
This can’t be real. No, this isn’t happening. You fell asleep when you got here and this is a dream, a very pleasant dream at least.
“I want you,” you take the leap of faith, and then he’s sliding a hand on the back of your head and pressing his lips to yours. This is real.
As all kisses go, the first time experience of finding your groove takes a few moments of readjusting and figuring out what goes where comfortably. But once you’re there everything falls into place and he’s let go of your shirt and squeezes your side with the hand not currently pressed to the back of your head.
“I want you. So badly.”
“Uh huh?” you gasp, remembering to breathe since he’s pulled away. Oh, God, he’s really going to be the death of you. Sniper’s voice is so low and how he talks it’s like he speaks just for you, for no one else, and in this moment it’s true. It’s all for you. He’s all for you, he’s all yours.
“You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”
His hands, so large, so warm, squeeze your waist and he shoves his knee between your legs. “No idea what you’ve been doin’ to me. Have me gettin’ off to the thought of you on your fuckin’ knees for me.”
Sniper stops to grope your chest before he grabs your shirt and rips it open, popping the buttons off of it and immediately planting his mouth onto your neck. Those canines scrape along your flesh and then he latches onto the junction of your shoulder and neck. The thought of being on the base surrounded by eight other people occurs and you try to keep your voice down even though just his kisses feel impossibly good. He releases his suction on your skin and kisses up your jaw, meeting your mouth again. He’s devouring you like you’re his prey, held beneath him while he grinds against you and slips his tongue into your mouth. Sniper’s hard and you can feel just how hard he is through his pants, and the fact that he’s that hard already is driving you fucking insane. It’s a power trip of the greatest level. The man you’ve pined over wants you that bad.
Sniper is going to be the death of you. Just have them bury you after this.
You grind back up against him and you lift his hat from his head and toss it aside. He’s pulling the rest of your shirt off and in a jumbled mess he starts working at the button on your pants.
He backs up and takes your arm and guides you to the little twin sized mattress in your room, pushing you down onto it. You land on the comforter with a dull thud, immediately being covered by his body.
“I need to be inside of ‘ya. Now.”
You nod, at a loss for words, and he pulls your pants down to expose you but just enough to do so, leaving them wrapped around your knees. Sniper lifts your legs up and onto his shoulders.
“I don’t have any lube,” you say, but he seems not to care because he- ever the professional- takes off his sunglasses and folds them neatly and sets them on your bedside table, and then dives between your legs.
He bites your inner thighs and any flesh he can reach and revels in the breathy noises you can’t help but make. He prods and licks and it’s all so good, lapping his tongue along your hole. Not soon after he adds his fingers and presses into you and stretches you out. It’s so good it’s almost enough to make you cum. You’re not afraid to let him know which is exactly why he stops, leaving you teetering on the edge while he pulls his cock out and it’s just as perfect as you imagined it. He’s kneeling right in front of you, still holding your legs on his shoulder but now he can see your face, leaning down and pushing your thighs into your stomach and folding you like a lawn chair.
“You want it, darlin’?”
“Please,” you could cry.
That’s all it takes before he’s pushing into you and stretching you further than his fingers did like he’s going to split you apart.
“Feel so fuckin’ good.”
He folds you even further, laying down over you and hovering his face above yours. He’s got you pinned here and even if you wanted to run you couldn’t. You’re his prey.
“Wanted to fuck you since I first saw ‘ya,” Sniper grunts.
His pace is brutal. He fucks you like it’s a fight, teeth scraping your neck and his hands holding onto your upper arms and pressing them to the mattress.
“So good for me. You like bein’ good for me?”
“I do, please, please,” you cry out this time. He hits a spot that sends your legs twitching and then he keeps on hitting it, each thrust clearing away any coherent thought you might’ve had. All you can think of is him.
“Such a good little whore. I could fuck you for hours. Paint you with my cum. I think you’d like that, huh?” Oh, he keeps growling right in your ear and you’re getting close again.
“Yes, thank you,” you barely know what you’re saying.
“Thank you? Tell me what you’re thankin’ me for. Go on, darl’.”
“You f-fuck me so good,” it takes forever to say.
“You like it when I fuck you?”
You can only nod. He’s so mean. He must like seeing you unable to form words while he fucks into you.
“You’re gonna make me cum, love,” a huff of breath into your ear. Even if he hadn’t told you he was going to cum his voice is picking up, breathier and so low it has to be illegal how good he sounds. “So good. Where do you- do you want me?”
“Inside.”
That’s it. You’ve done all the talking you can and you shut down just to focus on how good you feel and how your guts are doing flips and how the warmth is spreading from between your legs up into your stomach and around your shoulders.
“So perfect. All for me. Gonna cum in you. Hah..”
Sniper groans, boxing you in with his arms, and you’re so close, again, finally, the friction and the slide of his cock in and out of you, how his drawn out groans shorten to huffs of air, and he lets out a low fucking growl right in your ear. He slams into you one last time, burying himself as deep as he can go, pushing down on your shoulders and up with his hips to spear you as far as he can on his cock, the last hit of that sweet spot sending you over the edge. Sniper gives a few more little thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm and then clapping a hand over your mouth.
When you finally regain your bearings he slowly moves his hand, still inside of you. “Little loud there, darlin’.”
“Too loud?”
“Not for me.”