#exposure therapy

[sometiktoksarevalid]

[makingsenseofwhathappened]

[zepskies]

EXPOSURE THERAPY

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You’ve tried dealing with it the “healthy way,” like talking it out with a therapist. But what you’re really hoping is for Ben to fuck it out of you.

AN: I’ve had this idea in my head since writing chapter 6 of Break Me Down (three years ago 😭), but only now felt the urge to write it. I guess this could stand alone, but will really make more sense if you’ve read the series. This one takes place between Wake Me Up and Strong As Blood.

Word Count: 2.2K

Posted on Patreon: Feb. 20, 2026

Tags & Warnings: 18+ | Pure flangsty smut (v. fingering, finger sucking, penetrative sex, mention of anal); callback to reader’s traumatic upbringing, Ben’s “charming” mouth (and character development); breeding kink

Break Me Down Masterlist

A needy moan fell from your lips.

You shuddered and writhed against his hand. He had you caged against his broad chest with just one arm slug around you, keeping you grounded to reality.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin, only making faint white marks in his arm while his long fingers twisted deep inside you. His thumb brushed roughly, deliberately against your sensitive clit.

You whimpered and reached back to sink your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again. His beard too. You knew because it rasped a caress against your shoulder where his lips met your skin. His tongue soothed where his teeth grazed first, and bit hard enough to make you gasp, momentarily distracting you from the way his fingers withdrew from the soaked mess of your pussy. You blinked in confusion.

“Ben?” you asked breathily.

"Come 'ere..."

He grabbed your hips and turned you around in his arms. Not an easy feat in the middle of the damn bed; the coiled sheets just tangled more between your legs.

“What’s the fucking point if I can’t see those pretty eyes,” he added, a hint of charm in his smirk. You clung to his shoulders and laughingly caught your breath.

“I’m pretty sure you like my mouth more than my eyes,” you teased. But your fingers stroked his cheek with a note of tenderness, impossible to ignore.

Ben’s lips twitched, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs and ass. He grabbed you up with actually effortless strength to guide your thighs around his hips. You two became interlocked in a more intimate embrace, and he positioned you just right, letting you sink down on his rock-hard length.

“Tonight, all I wanna hear out of that mouth…” His voice was deep and rough, but even he groaned at the feeling of your tight inner walls choking his cock. “…is my fucking name.”

Gravity did its work. You shuddered at the feeling of him bottoming out, his girth stretching your greedy walls just right. As always.

Your tits brushed against his chest as your breaths moved you, your passion leading you back to his mouth. Your fingers sunk into his hair as you lured him into a kiss, slow and deep, a necessary connection.

This was your solid foundation. You both were laying it brick by brick, moment to moment.

Finding this apartment in Upstate New York. Picking out a new couch to replace the one that got shot to fucking hell in your old apartment. Navigating Ben’s contract work for Supe Affairs by day, arguing over who should load the dishwasher by night.

But you wanted to try laying another cornerstone. You grabbed Ben’s hand from your hip and guided it up to your cheek. You turned your head to press a kiss into his palm, then the tips of his fingers. You sucked the middle one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit and tasting the remnants of your own arousal.

Ben stared down at you through half-lidded eyes as you let his middle finger slide out of your mouth slow. 

“Can we try it again?” you asked.

Ben’s jaw clenched, despite your affection. He knew what it meant, and it wasn’t fingering your pussy.

“No,” he said.

“Please,” you said, nipping the pad of his index finger. “I know I can do it this time.”

His lips tugged at amusement, but it soon faded into a frown when he remembered what happened last time.

Still, you sounded sure.

Exhaling through his nose, he laid you down beneath him so you were more comfortable on his pillows. The scent of his cologne and aftershave wafted pleasantly through your nose, making it even more delicious when he finally began to move inside you. Your thighs were still tightly wrapped around his hips while he pumped smooth, deep strokes that sent lances of pleasure curling through your core and made your toes curl.

You grabbed hold of his shoulders, meeting his lips with haphazard kisses. You grabbed his right hand and guided it up your body. “Come on, baby. Give it to me…”

He stopped at your breasts first, squeezing the soft flesh of the right one because he wanted to feel you, but also because teasing your nipple roughly with his thumb might distract you for a while.

And it did, for half a second.

But you were becoming impatient, tugging sharply at his hair, nipping hard at his lower lip, digging your heels into his ass, spurring him on as well as working him up.

With a hot exhale through his nose, he finally gave you what you wanted. He slid his hand up to curve around your throat. First, he just held it there without squeezing.

You were fine. Or least you seemed that way to him, smiling up at him with a challenge in your eyes. Ben wanted to sink his fingers in your hair and claim that cheeky fucking mouth. 

Instead, he let his hand close around your neck with careful pressure as he continued to fuck you. His other hand was braced against the bed to prop himself up and give him leverage. You grabbed onto his wrist where he held you, not to stop him, but to keep his hand there. You wanted to feel his strength, tempered just for you.

“You feel me fucking everywhere, don’t you, sweetheart?” he said raggedly. He was starting to feel the subtle tremble in your inner walls, mirroring the tingling in his balls. “Want me to fuck you ‘til the fucking springs give out of this goddamn bed. Gonna feel me inside you for a fucking week.”

You laughed breathlessly. “Big talk, soldier. Gotta make me come first before I believe you.”

Always a fucking smartass, he thought.

He tightened his grip just a little, but with his strength, his fingers flexed along your jaw just shy of bruising. 

Ben saw the way your eyes flinched shut. The hitch in your breath, the passion in your eyes fuzzing over.

You lost focus, becoming more distant as you fought not to disassociate. In that moment, it wasn’t Ben’s warm hand you felt, but your father’s calloused one, choking the defiance out of you when his training didn’t. His hard, unyielding eyes. His rough fingers squeezing until black and gray spots clouded your vision.

“Hey.”

When you blinked, it was your boyfriend’s face above you, hardened in what you now knew to recognize as concern. It was Ben’s hand, no longer wrapped around your throat, but holding your cheek, his fingers starting to thread in your hair as he caught his breath.

“You hear me?” he pressed.

You realized then that you were heaving deeper breaths than him, digging your nails into his wrist where he held you. You eased up with apologetic tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you said, wiping at your cheeks. “My bad. We can…we can start over and try again.”

“No, we’re fucking not,” Ben said. His eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. He was still inside you, but he had half a mind to pull out and call it a night at this point. Nothing killed the mood like a side helping of daddy issues, and he wasn’t about to be a surrogate for yours.

But seeing the way you were fighting tears tooth and nail, Ben sighed, stroking the apple of your cheek. You bit your lip and held onto him with both hands, embarrassed and grateful at the same time.

“There’s other shit we can do, all right,” he said. And the sudden spark in his green eyes said he had plenty of ideas. “How about you finally let me put it in your ass?”  

You blinked. Then you burst out laughing, if through the last of your tears.

“Come on. I’ll even play with your pussy while we’re at it,” he added, smirking when you reached for his face and lowered him down to you for a kiss.

“How generous,” you teased, still giggling.

“Goddamn right,” Ben said. He slid a hand under your thighs and opened you up a little more for him, giving him a better angle to fuck you. A new resolve had him determined to make the most of tonight (and not waste a hard-on).

But he still paused for a second. His gaze found yours.

“You okay?” he asked.

Your eyes were still a little misty when you smiled, but you brushed back the strands of hair that often fell above his brow. Your thumb caressed his cheek, feeling the familiar prickle of his beard.

“Yeah, baby,” you said. Again, you leaned up for a kiss, an unspoken thank you against his lips.

He started out slow for a change. A deep roll of his hips that made you feel every inch of his cock. You groaned, letting your fingers slide up the back of his neck. His eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration. By now he knew so many of your little tells, like the slow shudder of your breath when he went deep, but not too rough. The way your nails curled into his skin when he found the right angle. The way you said his name when your thighs started to shake.

His head bowed, and his lips kissed along your jaw. His teeth grazed your pulse point and sucked hard enough to make your eyelids flutter.

You writhed underneath him, your hips meeting his rhythm, your hand slipping in between to find your clit. You rubbed tight circles, almost pressing down like a button in your mounting desperation.

Ben’s fingers splintered another few divots of wood into the headboard trying to stave off his own release. He gritted his teeth while his cock pulsed a warning. But he knew you were close—knew it by the way you gripped his sweaty hair, keened in his ear.

“Fuck. Please, please, please…”

His own breathing grew heavier against your skin, a muttered curse. Closer.

You choked on a cry, your body convulsing against his. Your orgasm hit you in a heady rush, a shudder rippling through your body.

Letting go of his self-control was a release in itself. His last few pounding strokes almost hurt, but you held him to you while his body tightened up hard enough to rip iron. He came deep inside with a ragged groan. You shivered a little, just at the warmth and feeling.

Of course, he didn’t fucking pull out. He never did. You still hadn’t replaced your IUD. Still didn’t give a fuck.

You kissed his neck, licking the salt off his skin on your way back up to his lips. He sunk his fingers into your hair, claiming and steadying all at once. Your legs slipped lower on his hips, crossing around his lower back.

When he pulled away a little, he saw a familiar look in your eyes. Soft didn’t cover it. Content was only the half of it.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m gonna make sure it fucking sticks,” Ben rumbled.

You snorted in response. Despite your agreement last year to wait a little while on having kids, the man had the idea embedded in his brain. The problem was, for the past few months, you hadn't been too preocupied with stopping him.

"At this rate, you probably already did," you said.

A slow smirk spread across his face, especially when he began to pull out of you, the mix of his spend and yours leaking out from between your legs as your feet met the mattress.

"In that case..." he said.

His hand slipped down your body, and you gasped when two of his fingers pushed some of his seed back into your sensitive channel.

Your fingers pressed into his arms. "Ben..."

"Just relax," he said. "Might as well make it fucking count."

You couldn't help but laugh, a breathless sound that ended on a sigh and the feeling of the pads of his fingers brushing the most sensitive places inside your inner walls. You knew what he was doing, but you also knew now that you wanted the same things he did. You wanted them with Ben. You were ready, and it only made that spark of arousal grow in you.

His thumb began to circle your nearly overstimulated clit. Your hips almost came off the bed as the delicious strokes of his fingers made your thighs shake again, but as exhausted as you were, you just let him do the work. Your breaths grew more labored, your moans deeper.

You didn't think you were capable of another orgasm, but soon, you felt it crest and tingle deep inside, then spread through your body with what felt like little starbursts right under your skin.

Ben swallowed your sigh of release, licking into your mouth. He reveled in the sound of your voice and the way you unravelled for him again—wanton, breaking, beautiful.

His.

AN: You think he got his wish? lol 😘💚 (keep reading to find out)

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, we have a pivotal part of the BMD story:

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?  (In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

▶️ Next Story: Strong as Blood 

⋆˙⟡ Tag List Form || Fic Library Blog -> (you can follow and turn on notifications)

Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @supernotnatural2005

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @kazsrm67 @winchestergirl2

@jensensswthrt @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @kmc1989

[vinceight]

I was planning on drawing a page full of my most liked npcs but I got bored halfway. Also I hate writing because it makes me feel hashtag cringe but take Gary being an edgelord anyway.

[zer0sh00]

Ok 🫡

Hope it works out! 😄🤞✨️

[lizardho]

Hi! I apologize for the out of the blue ask, but you have posted about this kind of thing before so I hoped you might be able to help me. TLDR, my little brother has OCD and has just recently started (ERP) therapy about it, and I am looking for things to read so I can better help him with it.

One of my bro's main compulsions is reassurance-seeking and I'm one of his main people. I know that part of therapy is to start to resist that urge, but I don't have a clue where to help him set that balance - as someone who loves him and whose first response is always validation, I worry my instincts to just. Try to help him feel better might not be helpful for him. He and I talk about it, obviously, but he's at the beginning of his journey and doesn't always know the best balance either. Do you know of any resources available to the layperson that you'd trust to help me get started?

The trick to supporting someone with OCD is to shift from the mindset of “fixing a problem” and move towards the mindset of “feeling an emotion.” Reassurance seeking relies on the natural human instinct to comfort difficult feelings and welcome positive ones - we are naturally empathic, we share our joy and our relief. But sometimes someone needs to feel scared or sad or angry as a requisite necessity in order to feel better, the same way someone may need to feel some pain when removing an ingrown toenail in order for the problem to stop. If you stop before the toenail is extracted then the toenail will not stop growing, it will continue to grow and hurt more and more over time, and eventually cause even worse problems than simple physical pain.

In other words, we cannot use intellectual solutions to emotional problems.

When your loved ones with OCD share feelings of fear or sadness or even self-loathing related to OCD, it helps to encourage them to sit with the raw feeling rather than look for an intellectual solution. That means validating the feeling without taking action to resolve it, at least not immediately. This is SO challenging, especially for helpers, but the long-and-short of it is that if your brother asks for reassurance, ask if this feels related to OCD. If he says yes, then do not provide the reassurance, no matter what. Instead, provide support while he experiences the emotion. Some examples of intrusive thoughts and helpful responses can be:

Thought: What if someone bursts into my bathroom stall and hurts me? I need to check the lock a few more times to be sure I’m safe. (Primary emotion: fear)

Response: “Oh wow that would be so scary if that happened! I know I would feel really scared about it. I wonder if you can just sit with that fear for a moment before turning the lock. I’ll set a timer for three minutes. In the meantime, try and pee as fast as you can!”

Thought: “What if I accidentally hit someone with my car and didn’t know? I need to go back and check!”

Response: “Oh man, that would be rough. You could get in trouble if you did that. I’m glad you’re concerned enough for others to risk returning, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you. Let’s drive forward a few more miles while you try and remember if you did that or not.”

In reality it is often very counter-intuitive, at least at first. We try and do the opposite of what the OCD tells us when it’s severe because even if it’s a common concern with a rational solution, rationality is not the name of the OCD game. Empathy is. If the OCD says to keep scrubbing your hands, then you have to stop, and stay stopped for as long as possible, even if it’s a valid concern. The rest is gonna be on a case-by-case basis. If you can, I’d recommend asking your brother if you can go to one of his sessions. If you can, I’d also recommend asking your brother to sign an ROI with his therapist to allow for a one-off phone call to discuss ideas between yourselves. In addition, I have some other ideas that can be helpful:

Ask them what their therapist recommends as long as wait times, coping tools, and mnemonics. I personally am a fan of the S.T.O.P. acronym for obsessions and compulsions:

Stop the compulsion cold-turkey

Trick the compulsion

Obstruct the compulsion

Postpone the compulsion

Any of these steps can obstruct a compulsive behavior long enough to let the fear pass on its own, which is the primary goal of OCD treatment. It’s not to rationally address the fear, often because the fear is, itself, rational. A person with intrusive thoughts about getting sick is going to feel stressed because it’s stressful to be sick and we know it. A person with intrusive thoughts about harming others is going to feel scared and sad because harming others is a scary and sad thing. The problem is with the intensity of the distress and the time consumed in the compensatory behavior. So finding ways to S.T.O.P. the OCD can be beneficial. Other ideas can include:

“Overcoming obsessive thoughts” is a book that has often been helpful for my patients with OCD.

Use of humor as a way to desensitize someone to their intrusive thoughts can be helpful too - I had a client once who said he was scared of accidentally calling others slurs and being seen as a bigot, and when he told his friends they started every phone call by addressing him with insults (i.e., “whuddup, dork!”) related to his identities so he could get used to hearing them. Use of repetition to desensitize oneself to intrusions can also be helpful - i.e., repeating certain phrases to oneself or others often to take away the sting of panic until it feels boring. I had a client with intrusions about going to hell, and so anytime they did something I’d say “oh, you’re so going to hell for that,” but like, I mean ANYTHING. Like, adjusting in their chair, looking at the wall while thinking, rolling their eyes at me for telling them they’re going to hell, etc.

This kind of desensitization can be done in a myriad of other ways, too. I once had a client with harming intrusions (i.e., intrusive thoughts about harming others) press a freshly-sharpened pencil into my hand for 15 minutes until they got bored. My supervisor at work had a client hold a machete to his throat for 10 minutes while they discussed the client’s favorite board game. I had a straight, cisgender, white male professor wear mismatching clothes and only do half a face of makeup for 6 sessions with a client who had intrusions about being laughed out of a room for “looking silly” and needing to check the mirror and with others at least 15 times before they could do anything so that client could be exposed to some of their more judgmental/self-critical thoughts by seeing someone else do the thing they were afraid of and not care.

The short answer to your question is, honestly, “it depends.” It depends on your brother, it depends on the intensity of the distress, and it depends on the circumstance. Things that work for some people would never work for others, and some things are just too untenable to even attempt. The fact you care and are attentive to it is a good sign, because the long answer is that your brother’s needs and your needs will change over time, but learning the basics to be ready for some stuff can still be helpful. I hope this response gave you some ideas, and I hope you know you are always free to reach out for support. My DMs are open, there are abundant online communities that can provide support and ideas for this, and your own family and friend group can be good resources as well. I hope all of this made sense because I’m sick rn and a little out of it.

Also, I wish you The Best of luck! I hope your brother knows and appreciates your curiosity and interest. And I hope you can continue to be curious about the lives of others and yourself.

And for the rest of you reading this: Be kind to others, be kind to yourselves, be gayer, and read more Terry Pratchett. I love y’all

[handmadecrybaby]

Gonna get a coffee and go to the thrift instead of killing myself, who is comin with me

[wallysgymshorts]

People don’t understand how hard it is to get over your own personal hell. Like I give so much credit to them for literally stepping into the fear to help Janet. This is a huge example of co-regulation