01 . ⠀⠀ ˚ ﹒ ૮ ⠀⠀⠀━╋⠀⠀𖤝 summary :: ben finally gives into your filthy little request, dragging you to the bathroom and letting you hold him while he pisses, turning your drunken begging into something humiliating, intimate, and mean || 1.4k
thinking of soldier boy finally letting you hold his cock while he takes a piss, because you’d been begging for it all night with flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and that drunk little smile he kept pretending made him sick.
you’d followed him from the couch like a needy shadow, grabbing at his sleeve, his belt, the waistband of his jeans, anything you could get your fingers on while he kept telling you to quit acting like a damn embarrassment.
every time he shrugged you off, you came right back, softer and more desperate, mumbling his name like it was the only word you had left. ben looked down at you with open contempt, but the way his mouth twitched gave him away. he liked you like this far too much.
“ben,” you whined, clinging to his shirt as he stood up, your voice sweet and slurred around the edges. “please. you said I could ask.” he paused at that, slow and deliberate, turning his head just enough to look at you over his shoulder.
his eyes dragged down your face, over your pout, over the way your thighs pressed together like you were already making a mess of yourself. “you’re really gonna beg for it in my living room?” he asked, voice flat and cruel. “christ, sweetheart, you’ve got no shame at all.”
you shook your head too quickly, giggling because he sounded so disgusted, and that only made the heat in your stomach worse. “please,” you said again, softer this time, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt.
“I’ll be good. I just wanna hold it.” ben stared at you for a long second, then let out a rough, humorless laugh. “that’s the problem,” he muttered. “you think being good means getting on your knees and acting like a nasty little freak.”
then his hand was in your hair, not gentle, not sweet, but controlled enough that it made your whole body go loose with delight. he grabbed a fistful near the roots and tugged, dragging you up from where you’d been half-sitting, half-kneeling against the couch.
you stumbled after him with a breathless little laugh, both hands flying to his wrist even though you didn’t try to stop him. “move,” he snapped, pulling you down the hall toward the bathroom. “you wanna act like bathroom trash, I’ll put you where you belong.”
by the time he shoved the bathroom door open, your cheeks were burning and your pussy was already wet, slick gathering between your thighs from nothing but his hand in your hair and his voice cutting you apart. he pushed you inside ahead of him, then shut the door hard enough to make you jump.
when you looked back at him, smiling all drunk and dazed, ben’s expression twisted with mean amusement. “look at you,” he said, stepping closer. “getting wet because I dragged you around like an idiot. you’re easier than a goddamn light switch.”
you should’ve been embarrassed, but all you did was press your thighs together again, chasing the ache he’d put there. “I like it,” you whispered, looking up at him with too much honesty in your face. ben scoffed and caught your jaw in one hand, squeezing your cheeks until your lips parted.
“yeah, I know you do,” he said. “that’s what makes it pathetic. pretty little head full of nothing but dick and humiliation.” your breath hitched, and his eyes sharpened. “don’t make that noise unless you want me to give you something to whine about.”
he stood in front of the toilet and looked down at you expectantly, broad and smug and mean as hell. “knees,” he ordered, and you dropped so fast he laughed.
the tile was cold beneath you, but your body was blazing, your hands already reaching for his belt before he could tell you twice. “look at that,” he muttered, watching your fingers fumble over the buckle. “desperate little thing can barely work a belt, but she’s sure she deserves my cock in her hand.”
your fingers shook as you unbuckled him, the leather scraping through the metal while you tried not to smile too hard. ben noticed anyway and curled his fingers tighter in your hair, forcing your head back just enough to make you meet his eyes. “what are you grinning at?” he asked harshly.
“you proud of yourself? proud to be on your knees begging to hold my dick while I take a piss?” you nodded, breathless and warm, and whispered, “yes.” his laugh was ugly and pleased. “of course you are. filthy little bathroom slut.”
you got his jeans open slowly, button first, then zipper, tugging them down enough with clumsy, eager hands. when you pulled his cock free, your breath caught, because even soft he was big, thick and heavy in your palm, warm enough to make your fingers curl instinctively around him.
ben’s eyes dropped to your hand, then back to your face, and his mouth curved in that cruel way that made your stomach flip. “there it is,” he said. “one handful and you go stupid.” you swallowed hard, staring at him, your pussy clenching around nothing because he wasn’t wrong.
he covered your hand with his and adjusted your grip himself, forcing your fingers around the base of him exactly how he wanted. “hold it right,” he said, voice low and rough. “don’t sit there pawing at me like some drunk little idiot.”
you nodded quickly, but your thumb brushed over him anyway, unable to help yourself, and his hand snapped back into your hair. “don’t get greedy,” he warned. “you begged to hold it, not worship it.”
your eyes flicked up to his, wet and adoring. “can’t help it,” you whispered, and ben’s jaw tightened like that answer did something dangerous to him.
then he turned toward the toilet, your hand still wrapped around him, and finally started to piss. the first hot stream hit the water with a filthy, steady sound that made your whole body throb, the pale gold arc splashing into the bowl while you held him still.
it was obscene how intimate it felt, how your mouth went dry and your pussy got wetter, slick and needy between your thighs just from being trusted with something so gross and private.
you stared, hypnotized, your cheek brushing his thigh, and ben tugged your hair until you looked up. “don’t act shy now,” he said. “you begged for this like a spoiled little pervert.”
you moaned softly before you could stop yourself, the sound small and helpless beneath the splash of him still going. ben’s eyes darkened, and his lip curled. “you’re actually turned on,” he said, like he wanted to shame you until you melted into the floor.
“kneeling beside a toilet, holding my cock while I piss, and your cunt’s probably dripping through your panties.” you nodded because lying would’ve been pointless, and the confession made your face burn even hotter. “say it,” he snapped. “say what you are.” your voice came out tiny and sweet. “I’m your filthy little problem.”
when he finished, droplets clung to the tip of his cock, wet and shining, and he shifted like he was going to shake them off. you stopped him before he could, both hands coming up to turn him back toward your face, eager enough that his brows lifted.
ben stared down at you with disgusted delight, already understanding before you even opened your mouth. “no,” he said, voice rough. “you’re not that fucking nasty.” but you were already leaning in, tongue out, eyes locked on his like he hung the moon.
you licked him clean immediately, dragging your tongue over the wet head of his cock and moaning at the taste, shameless and happy and ruined. ben’s hand slammed against the sink for balance while the other tightened hard in your hair, his breath leaving him in a low curse.
you looked up at him the whole time, drunk and glowing, swallowing down the humiliation like it was affection, like his cruelty was something sacred. “jesus christ,” he muttered, staring at you like he didn’t know whether to laugh or ruin you.
then his grip pulled your head back, forcing your mouth away just enough for him to see your smile. “goddamn,” he said, cruel and almost fond. “you really are the nastiest thing I’ve ever owned.”
after he called you the nastiest thing he’d ever owned, you giggled, breathless and bright-eyed, like the insult had landed somewhere soft inside you instead of hurting. your cheek pressed against his thigh again, your mouth still wet, your hand still curled around him like you couldn’t bear to let go.
“next time,” you whispered, looking up at him with that ruined little smile, “you can do it in my mouth.”
cw: major daddy kink, intox in an established relationship, ben and reader use the word rape (ben in a way that is not so nice), threatens a plug, how is this what I'm creating on fathers day
You and Ben didn’t go out to eat much. Not because it’s expensive, or a hassle, or because you can’t decide, but because he always makes it a thing. He refuses to just get a private room and sneak in the back; he wants the audience, the attention, the photos. He wants his ‘romantic’ dinner with you to be a whole fucking show. He picks your outfit, he orders your meals, decides if you want another round, likes it when you can just sit there, look pretty, and murmur out cute little ‘thank you, daddy’s. Everyone knows who he is, and nearly everyone knows he doesn’t have a daughter. You always get a few gullible waiters who think your little daddy-daughter date is adorable, but the next time they come out to help their face is beet red with the new knowledge that all they’d done is made Ben hard in his pants. Throughout the night he’d scoot you closer, get a little grabbier, wanting you to look up at him with adorably parted lips and the honorific on the tip of your tongue.
“Thank you, daddy,” you told him when he passed you a drink, your head feeling fuzzy enough to let a little giggle slip through at the end. “I like these.”
“Yeah? Guzzlin’ them like they got a shot of my load.” Ben laughed to himself, the joke obviously meant just for him and whoever was unfortunate enough to overhear. “It’s still cute though,” he added, squeezing your thigh to ease the rod of discomfort the words shot up your back.
By the time dessert appeared on your plate you were halfway slumped on his shoulder, a babbling mess from the way he was teasing your clit under your dress.
"Here comes the airplane, sweets," he mocked, feeding you a bite of the cake that you felt completely incapable of eating. "Open up for daddy."
You obliged, barely even registering what he was putting in your mouth. "Thank you, daddy," you murmured; you were nothing if not well trained.
"Time to get my little girl home, huh? Lookin' at me with those easy eyes."
You nodded, a little hum of agreement escaping from your lips before you slurred out the words 'need my daddy inside me.'
At that very inopportune time a waiter had decided to start clearing your table, his eyes closing in one long blink that said 'I'm not paid enough for this shit.'
"Cute, huh?" Ben asked, completely misreading the reason for his pause. "Just needs her daddy." He ruffled your hair a little with the hand that wasn't shoved up your dress, enjoying the way you were much too inebriated to bat away his hand like you normally did. He scooped you up, choosing to carry you like a koala so your cunt was strategically placed right over his bulge. The barrier of his dress pants felt fucking offensive, and you were much more focused on trying to gain some kind of friction than the not-so-politely staring tabled ben carried you past.
"Sorry, past her bedtime," he offered on the way out, his shit-eating grin telling everyone that if they talked about this, said he was a degenerate with a whore of a girlfriend, all they'd be doing is exactly what he wants.
When he tossed you on the bed, your cunt leaking as bad as the drunken words from your mouth, that's when ben felt his paternal instincts kick in.
"You're a pathetic little thing, huh? Probably wasted enough to say just about anything."
"Uh huh," you giggled, the shot you had slammed in the back of the car giving you a second wind. "What should I say, daddy." You drew out the word teasingly, batting your eyelashes in a way that was meant to be tempting but was probably off-beat.
"Can you ask your dad all pretty to rape your little cunt?"
"Please rape my little cunt, daddy."
"One more time," ben murmured, his palm reaching up to rest on your throat and pointing the camera on his phone at your face.
"Please, please, please, rape my little cunt, daddy. Needed you bad all night."
"Fucking hell." Ben tossed his phone to the side, pressing you into the mattress with the hand clasped around your neck. "You're really that needy, huh? Only started touchin' you when we ordered dessert. Does bein' seen with your daddy make you that wet?"
You nodded, looking up at him with the same wide, wet, eyes that you had been all night. "Daddy," you whispered again, not feeling capable of coming up with your own sentences.
"I'm right here, baby," he said, finally palming your cunt, cursing when he realized how wet you were. "What the fuck am I gonna do with you. You're drippin' no matter what I do, huh? Even tried to be nice and keep my hands out of your cunt at dinner. Next time the only thing you'll be wearin' under that dress is a fat metal plug that clinks against the seat whenever you try to hump my fingers."
Your lucidity leaked out of your ears more with every word, and even though your eyes were open your brain felt incapable of processing what you were seeing.
"Fuck," he muttered, seeing the light going out behind your eyes. "Tryna be cute and make you beg me to rape you but you're so desperate you're un-fucking-rapeable."
"Daddy," you whined, neither confirming nor denying that statement, just so dropped out that you know you need something.
"Why're you so needy tonight, huh? Five martinis too much for you?"
You nodded dumbly, at least this time feeling like you know the right answer. 'Yes, five martinis is too many."
"You're lucky you got me, huh? Someone who'll keep you safe, fuck you right, help you put together the pieces when you wake up in the morning?"
You nodded again, the thought of 'what if I never even stopped nodding' broaching your consciousness and making a hysterical laugh bubble up to the surface.
"You know what's also lucky? That you're cute. Normally a giggle is enough to make you face-fucking-first for the rest of the night."
You looked up at him, appreciation obvious in your eyes despite your inability to be verbal, and your feeling of submission was only heightened by the steady weight of his hand resting on your neck.
"Yeah, that's what I mean. Those eyes are too fuckin' needy to be lookin' at the mattress when they could be cryin' pretty little tears for daddy to kiss off."
Mille may I have some random head cannons to feed my itch of yucky soldier boy
I love this question!
cw: mentions of roofies, dubcon anal play, piss kink, fisting, made this one really yucky :)
Ben who will hand you a plug in public and send you to the bathroom to push it in when he wants to fuck you there later. He checks to make sure you did by groping his way down your pants and tugging and twisting it; at least he gives you a little kiss on the head as a reward
Ben who occasionally roofies you for fun, just to keep you on your toes and have a night where you’re even more at his mercy than usual
Ben who videos you and has a compilation of your whines and squeals when he prods his cock against your unprepped ass. If you ever complain, all he’s gotta say is ‘you beg to get ass-fucked more than I even want to. Just like hearing you get all nervous’
Ben who will make you wear a chastity belt and a plug if he makes you go to a party horny, telling you that you look needy enough that just about anyone could try to scoop you up. He says that it’s for his own safety, and wears the key around his neck with the comfort that absolutely nothing is getting to his girl’s honey pot
Ben who loves fucking you will a full bladder and making you cum so hard you piss all over his cock ‘messy fucking girl. Says she’s big enough to take all this cock and then wets herself? Wanna apologize for pissing all over dad’s lap?’
Ben who thinks the thick red lines your nails carve into him are adorable, and says that you remind him of a little pussy cat
Ben who loves to rot your brain with porn, keeping you locked in his embrace while he shows you his most depraved videos and makes you cum to the parts where there’s something he wants to try
Ben who writes things on your body with his cum to watch it turn red and inflamed ‘see, doll? Now you got a nice little rash on ya to remind you who you belong to’
Ben who is obsessed with the idea of fisting you, loving how tight you squeeze around his whole hand. Doesn’t matter if it’s ass, pussy, or mouth. You never know how the switch from fingering to fisting gets flipped in his brain, but you can tell he’s working up to it when he shoves his pinkie in, stretching you on the thick width of his fingers to prepare you for the meat of his hand
Mouthing off at 𝓢oldier 𝓑oy during a meeting full of Vought executives, and then subsequently spending that evening on your knees in front of Ben, with his heavy cock lodged in your mouth as a punishment for embarrassing him. You’re trying so hard to be good, and luckily, the tangy taste and warm throbbing of his cock isn’t too bad, but the width of him makes your jaw ache, and fuck, he takes ages to cum. You think it’s finally over once he spills into your mouth, but no, you don’t get to pull away. You’re staying on your knees with his cock down your throat until he’s decided you’ve made better use of that defiant mouth instead of always talking back like some ungrateful little brat. Should consider yourself lucky his whiskey hasn’t got him pissing straight down your gullet. At least he’s being nice—his words.
small off the dome thought: Soldier Boy wants to be a dad …?? 🎀
He obviously never really wanted kids. But when he meets you something changes. You take his load in that cute little cunt of yours sooo well, begging for it every single day. You cling to his lap like a lost puppy, eager and willing to please him whenever he wants.
Usually he thinks that behavior is pitiful, but he finds it endearing with you. You’re not like other girls he’s fucked—you really truly love him. You love him so much you’ll let him ruin your life by knocking you up. Picturing you carrying his super-baby makes his dick hard and his heart almost grow a size bigger. He imagines you moaning for your daddy whenever you need to lay down, your skin glowing and breasts swollen, soft small hands perching at the roundness of your belly as you feel the little feet kick.
He probably tosses your birth control out entirely, not finding any joy in sneaking in sugar pills. You have to know you and him are trying or else you won’t take care of yourself. Maybe you protest at first— you’re so young and it’s all happening so fast. He’ll kiss you deeply and whisper how great a mom you’ll be when he starts peeling off your clothes.
He’ll fuck you as soft as he can. “Making Love” is new to him, but he thinks maybe his kid deserves to be born out of something other than violence. He’ll stuff you full all night, wake you up the next day, and do it alllll over again.
You’ll be completely and totally his before you realize you made a mistake and by then it’ll be too late <3
I missed writing so bad this came to me in a dream not really but I just needed to get warmed up again I love my daddy FUCKKKKKKKK
Mouthing off at 𝓢oldier 𝓑oy during a meeting full of Vought executives, and then subsequently spending that evening on your knees in front of Ben, with his heavy cock lodged in your mouth as a punishment for embarrassing him. You’re trying so hard to be good, and luckily, the tangy taste and warm throbbing of his cock isn’t too bad, but the width of him makes your jaw ache, and fuck, he takes ages to cum. You think it’s finally over once he spills into your mouth, but no, you don’t get to pull away. You’re staying on your knees with his cock down your throat until he’s decided you’ve made better use of that defiant mouth instead of always talking back like some ungrateful little brat. Should consider yourself lucky his whiskey hasn’t got him pissing straight down your gullet. At least he’s being nice—his words.
cw: spanking, degradation, mention of alcohol, mention of blood, reader is drunk, ben is mean, fem!reader🧸
He's old school—so he loves the idea of bending you over his knee and reminding you who's in charge.
He gets off watching you squirm and whine, trying your hardest to stay still and take your punishment like a good girl. The sight of your bruised ass and face stained with black tears is usually enough for him, but sometimes he likes to break the skin and make you bleed.
You get home later than you told him you would—you went to a bar with some friends and just lost track of time. You drunkenly stumble inside trying to make as little noise as possible. He doesn’t like when you’re out late, and he doesn’t like when you drink. He has rules—you’re supposed to be in bed every night waiting for him to fuck you to sleep.
You yelp at the figure on the couch, scarcely lit by the lamp at the end table . He sits legs spread with the black leather held tightly in his hand, a glare plastered across his gorgeous face.
“H-hi daddy—you scared me” you giggle obliviously.
“You know what time it is?”
You break away from his unrelenting stare, “Uhm, it's, uh... you trail off.
He scoffs at your pathetic attempt at saving yourself, “You sneak in my fuckin' house— smelling like that cheap vodka you and your bitchy little friends drink, and that's all you got?"
Your head lowers in shame, the thought of disappointing Ben makes you feel like the liquor in your stomach will come back up. You plead to him with wide eyes and try you hardest not to slur your speech, "Please don't be mad m'really really sorry daddy I just-
He cuts you off as he makes himself comfortable on the couch, "Don't care, get the fuck over here." he plainly demands.
You know better than to argue, so you begin to sway towards him as best you can with trembling legs. You lay on his lap face down, cunt throbbing in excitement and fear. Your head begins to spin as hikes up your skirt.
"Spent all night thinkin bout this cute little pussy" he purrs. He begins softly rubbing his thumb across your puffy folds that are now clinging to your panties with slick. The light touch makes you moan loudly, trying to back into his hand for more. You smile when you feel his rough hands peel your underwear off and toss them to the ground.
"Too bad you’re a dumb fuckin’ whore that doesn’t listen.” Before you even think about begging him not to, the leather strikes your cheek with a smack. You yelp loudly in pain, your ass immediately turning bright red.
"Quit actin' like you don't love this" he grunts as he lands another strike to your already sore cheek. You shout again, this time a pained groan—and you begin sobbing into the couch.
“You’re dripping all over my suit” he laughs. “You feel any fuckin’ shame in that little brain of yours? huh?”
He punctuates his insult with another devastating blow to your cheek. “I’m so so s-sorry please” you sob. You’re a blubbering snot faced mess, and Ben’s dick is so fucking hard.
“So fuckin’ dramatic” he taunts, “You deserve this, so fuckin say it and maybe we’ll be done.”
Through gasps and sniffling away your tears, you attempt to please him. “I -hiccup- I d-deserve-
He cuts you off with another crushing blow—you scream.
“Fuckin speak up” he growls.
It becomes even harder for you to speak through your sobs but you still try, unable to take it anymore—“I deserve this- I d-deserve to be punished I-I’m sorry i’m so sorry” you wail.
“I’m sorry what?” He coos, warning you not to fuck up again.
You sigh, “I'm s-sorry daddy.”
He finally seems satisfied with his punishment. You’ve buried your face into the couch cushions, crying and shaking. You can’t think about anything else other than the pain, and you hope he’ll just carry you upstairs and kiss you till you drift to sleep.
“Alright kid sit up”. His voice is softer now, the belt tossed to the floor where your underwear is.
You turn your head and attempt to look at him, “can’t, hurts” you murmur.
He looks regretful for a moment, carefully moving to wipe your tears.
He helps you to your feet and scoops you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your temple.
“Don’t worry honey, m’gonna stretch you out as a treat for being so good.”
Walking through the abandoned Brighter Days Inc. building with her inner child and looking in on all the past versions of herself that were trying to erase the pain and trauma that she’s been through and then closing the door on that mindset and choosing to move forward with her life remembering everything…
And the show ending with her ascending during Supernatural like on the Brighter Days Ahead cover followed by the visual of her sitting down in the waiting room and letting her past and future selves lean on her for support…. Oh Ariana we’re really in it now…
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