morgan

i want you to hurt me ✮₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎˚꩜⋆ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ᭄᭡

[ultraviolenclana]

morgan, 19 years, she/her, latina girl

゛ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ soldier boy’s girl‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ 𓈒⋆♱ ݁ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚

just writing my kinks for like-minded ppl

open to chat, ideas & suggestions! ♡

dead dove do not eat . mdni . nsfw . darkfics . taboo . angst

my works:

somnophilia

go ahead and cry, little girl

i need you

putting you in your place

[ultraviolenclana]

herogasm ! soldier boy

summary: dragged into herogasm by mistake, you find soldier boy is the only familiar face in the room, and he’s not letting you leave.

cw: soldier boy x reader, smut 18+, dub-con, manipulation, praise kink, breath play, creampie, daddy kink

hii! i was going through a lot of personal issues and needed to take a break from writing for a bit, but i’m finally back! this fic was a request i received a while ago, thank you so much @violetskies21 for this request 💓 so sorry for the wait

the night at the vought cafe always ended the exact same way: you washing cups and plates, the smell of coffee soaked into your apron, and exhaustion piled up on your back. you wiped the damp cloth across the wooden counter, watching the yellow light reflect on the clean glass. outside, the city was already washed in the late afternoon sunset, and all you wanted was to finish closing the register, pack your stuff, and leave.

you were heading over to close up when the bell above the glass door rang—not a subtle chime, but a loud rattle as the door was shoved open with force.

your eyes slowly drifted up, and the air left your lungs.

it was soldier boy.

he walked in wearing his full suit. his shield was in his massive hands, and every step he took in those heavy boots made the wooden floor creak so hard it made your chest vibrate. he was huge. his presence took over the space in a suffocating way, radiating raw, dangerous, and completely unpredictable power.

panic hit you like a punch. your hands, still holding the rag, started visibly shaking.

he walked up to the counter with a calculated slowness, his eyes locked on you from the second he stepped through the door. he wasn't in a rush. he stopped right in front of you and, with a fluid movement, rested his huge hands on the counter, leaning in slightly until you could smell him.

"evening, kid." his voice was deep and raspy.

"g-good evening, soldier boy." you stammered, your voice barely a whisper, your wide eyes focusing on his sharp jawline and short beard. you could barely hold his gaze.

ben smirked, a slow tug of his lips showing he knew exactly how terrified he made you. he loved it. loved seeing genuine panic in people's eyes. and fuck, he loved seeing the panic and fear in yours. the way you looked so tiny and helpless in front of him. so fucking cute.

"black coffee. no sugar," he ordered, short and straight to the point, his voice dragging as he stared at you.

"y-yes, sir." you replied in a tiny voice, turning around quickly to the espresso machine just to escape that intensity.

as the hot water ran through the ground beans, your hands were shaking so bad you almost dropped the porcelain cup. that wasn't the first time he'd come into the cafe. far from it. over the last three weeks, soldier boy had been dropping by at least twice a week to get coffee, and every single time was identical. you barely spoke, but the routine was agonizing for your nerves.

you remembered the first time he showed up perfectly, on a tuesday morning. the cafe was packed with vought employees, assistants, and secretaries rushing around. when he walked in, the entire place just fell silent. he walked straight to the counter, ignoring everyone, stopped in front of you, and said the exact same line: "black coffee, no sugar." you handed it over with fingers freezing from terror. he took the cup, left the exact cash on the counter, and drank it right there, standing, staring at the ceiling with a bored expression before turning around and leaving without another word.

then came the second time, on a rainy thursday. the place was empty, just you cleaning the tables in the back. the bell chimed loud and his massive silhouette crossed the entrance. he didn't even look around. went straight to the counter, tapped his heavy fingers on the wood, and waited. you rushed over, heart in your throat. "black, no sugar." that was all he said. you served the bitter black coffee, and he just took the paper cup, locked those dull green eyes onto yours for three full seconds—holding a silence that almost made you cry from nerves—and walked out into the rain with heavy steps.

and now, there he was again, right at the end of your shift.

you poured the dark, steaming liquid into the cup, trying to take a deep breath to stop your hands from shaking. you set the cup on the saucer and, with small steps, walked back to the counter, sliding the drink toward him real carefully so it wouldn't spill.

"h-here, soldier boy."

ben didn't pick up the cup right away. he kept his hands flat on the counter, his analytical eyes tracing down your server uniform, noticing how the apron looked way too big on your small frame, before moving back up to your neck where he could see your artery pulsing ridiculously fast. the fear radiating off you was tangible, and to a guy like him, that was better than any compliment.

he reached out his thick fingers and grabbed the handle, bringing it to his lips. took a long sip, his firm gaze locked on your face the entire time, without blinking. you stayed completely still, arms pulled tight against your body, wishing you could just vanish.

"perfect," he murmured after swallowing the bitter coffee, tapping the cup lightly against the saucer. "you're good at this, girl."

he tossed a bill worth way more than the coffee onto the wooden counter. you looked at the money and then up at him, confused.

"soldier boy... hm, i need to get your change from the register..." you started, taking a step toward the cash drawer.

"it's okay, girl." he cut in, his tone so authoritative it froze you in your tracks.

he turned his back and walked toward the exit with that imposing posture of a man who owned everything. the door bell rattled again as he passed, leaving behind only silence and the heavy scent of leather and cologne. you let out the breath you didn't even realize you were holding, relaxing your shoulders. it was over.

you put the money in the tip jar, finished wiping the counter, and ran to the breakroom. you were so tired your brain could barely process anything. you took off your apron, grabbed your bag, and were ready to go.

after locking up, night had fully fallen, bringing a cold fog over the streets. just wanting to get home fast, you decided to take a shortcut through a wide, dark alley behind a club, a place known for hosting vought big shots and millionaire execs.

the alley wasn't empty. further down, lit by the weak glow of a flickering streetlight, a group of about ten women was gathered. prostitutes. wearing provocative lingerie under expensive fur coats, stilettos, and heavy makeup. they were talking in low tones, some touching up their lipstick, others smoking. they knew exactly where they were going: vought had paid a ridiculous amount for them to be the entertainment at the herogasm. there was fear in them, an obvious nervousness about dealing with supes.

you tried to walk past on the other side of the alley, hugging yourself, clutching your bag straps tightly, keeping your head down to avoid drawing attention.

that's when hell broke lose.

the tires of a black van with heavily tinted windows screeched on the asphalt as it turned sharply into the alley, slamming the brakes right in front of the group. the side doors flew open, and two massive vought guards wearing black suits and tactical vests, armed to the teeth, stepped out looking stressed and aggressive.

"come on, move! all of you inside now! you're fucking late already!" one of them barked, his voice echoing in the alley as he started shoving the women into the van.

panic set in and you picked up your pace to get out of there, but the second guard looked over and spotted you walking by. in the dim light of the alley, he didn't even notice your simple work clothes or student backpack; to him, you were just another young girl in the designated area.

"you there, inside now!" he yelled, taking long strides toward you.

"no! wait! i'm not part of this, i was just passing through! i work at-" you cried, your voice cracking with terror as you backed away, tears stinging your eyes.

he didn't care. he grabbed your arm with brutal force, thick fingers digging into your skin in a way that was definitely gonna leave dark bruises. you tried to pull back, tried to fight, but against a trained vought guard, you were completely powerless.

"shut up, bitch! get in the fucking van!" he growled, dragging you through the alley without a care and throwing you violently into the dark vehicle.

you fell to your knees on the floor. the side door slammed shut, the electronic lock clicking like a final sentence, and the driver accelerated hard, throwing your body against the seat.

the panic inside was claustrophobic. the interior lights were a dim neon blue. the other women looked at you on the floor, crying and hyperventilating, and instantly realized the huge mistake the guards had made. an older woman with a pitying look leaned down and helped you sit on the leather seat.

"jesus... they grabbed a girl by mistake," she whispered, looking at your bag and your utter panic.

"please, let me out! tell them to stop the van!" you pleaded, tears pouring down non-stop, choking on a severe anxiety attack.

"listen to me, girl, look at me." she held your face firmly, her eyes dead serious. "if we scream or try to stop this van right now, those guys up front will make us disappear."

"where are we going?" you sobbed, pulling your knees to your chest.

she swallowed hard, looking away before whispering, "to herogasm. the annual supe orgy. your only chance is to get inside that mansion, find an empty room, lock yourself in, and try to disappear until the party ends tomorrow morning. don't draw any supe's attention, got it? if one of them notices you, you're fucked. literally."

the drive lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like pure torment. you were dissociating, the sound of the women talking among themselves to cover their own panic sounding distant, like you were underwater. it all felt like a grotesque nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

when the van finally stopped, the doors opened and reality hit you like a train.

the isolated mansion in the middle of nowhere was massive, surrounded by armed guards on all sides. but what was coming from inside was the real horror. the deafening sound of heavy electronic music mixed with loud laughter, depraved screams, and echoing moans vibrated through the lit windows. herogasm was already in full swing. smoke, the smell of alcohol, drugs, and bodily fluids floated in the air.

the high-end escorts took a deep breath, put on their seductive posture, and stepped out, marching toward the main hall to do the job they were paid for. you were pushed along by the crowd, your feet dragging against your will.

crossing the entrance hall, the sight of all that depravity made your legs give out completely. there were dozens of half-naked supes acting like animals, using people like disposable objects for pleasure. the room reeked of veiled violence.

you were completely dissociated, body trembling, silent crying swallowed by the loud music and screams around you. you just wanted to die so it would stop.

in the middle of the main hall, oblivious to the chaos and full of arrogance, was soldier boy.

he was holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, laughing at some stupid joke another minor supe was telling. he acted like the king of the place, radiating a disgusting air of superiority. bored with the conversation, ben turned his head, letting his eyes wander through the room looking for something that might actually catch his interest amidst all the cheap exposed skin.

his gaze passed over the group of women with initial disinterest, until it locked onto you.

you looked so tiny in the middle of it all. hunched over, arms wrapped tight around yourself in a futile attempt to hide, eyes glued to the floor, completely dissociated. fear had you paralyzed.

ben's brain worked fast. he recognized your face, and a subtle, dangerous smirk formed on his lips.

he stood up, his massive presence hushing the nearest heroes. he walked over to the guy who brought the girls and pointed directly at you, never breaking eye contact with your shaking frame.

"that one. she's mine," ben stated, his deep voice echoing with the authority of someone who'd never heard the word "no" in his life.

the guy grinned, bowing slightly. "yeah, soldier boy. all yours."

you blinked, coming out of your daze at the sound of his voice, and looked up. the panic in your eyes skyrocketed as you saw soldier boy staring back at you.

ben didn't wait for a reaction, didn't ask for permission, and completely ignored the fact that you were cowering. he stepped forward, grabbing your arm firmly. his fingers dug into your arm so hard that you let out a soft groan of pain, terrified it was gonna start bleeding.

"p-please..." your voice barely came out, a terrified whisper as you instinctively tried to take a step back.

"shut it," he murmured near your ear, his tone hard and unyielding, keeping up the act for anyone watching. "you're coming with me now."

with a firm yank, he started pulling you out of the hall. you tried to plant your feet on the floor, but your shoes just slid like you were trying to fight a moving concrete wall. ben dragged you through the noisy hallways, ignoring your subtle tremors and the stares from other supes.

you were completely vulnerable, pulled along by the hero who, to the public, was a symbol of protection, but in here held your arm like you were just his property.

when you reached the door of one of the most isolated rooms on the top floor, he opened it with one hand, shoved you inside without an ounce of gentleness, and slammed the door shut, locking it with a sharp click that echoed in the quiet room.

panic rushed up your throat, and you closed your eyes, bracing yourself, expecting him to start tearing his clothes off and using you like a toy.

but that's not what happened.

instead of throwing you onto the bed or barking orders like you'd seen other supes doing downstairs, soldier boy slowly let go of your wrist. he took a long breath, unbuckling his iconic eagle shield from his back and placing it carefully on a leather armchair. then he unfastened the heavy green chest armor, setting it aside and leaving himself in just his tactical shirt, making him look a little less like a military tank and a bit more human.

he turned to you, crossing his thick arms over his chest. his expression was still stern, but there was genuine confusion shining in his eyes.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" he asked directly, his deep voice echoing.

you shrank back, taking a step until your back hit the locked door. the tears caught in your throat finally overflowed, blurring your vision. you tried to speak, but only managed a painful sob.

"i... i don't know..." you started, voice completely failing.

ben took a step toward you, uncrossing his arms. his face softened a bit, taking on that calmer look you knew from the cafe.

"hey, it's okay. look at me," he said, lowering his voice to a quiet, almost intimate tone. "i recognized you the second i laid eyes on you down there. you're the girl who makes my coffee. so explain it to me, how'd you end up here?"

"those men..." you choked out, wiping your face with shaking hands, trying desperately to breathe. "i was walking home from work... cut through the alley behind the club and they... they grabbed me. i screamed that i had nothing to do with it, but they wouldn't listen. they threw me in the van with those women and brought me here. please, sir... just let me go. i'm begging you."

hearing your explanation, ben let out a soft huff of a laugh, shaking his head with a fake annoyance that felt real enough.

"those fucking vought idiots are total morons. bunch of incompetents," he muttered low, walking over to you with slow steps, arms slightly out to show he didn't mean to attack. he stopped right in front of you. "listen to me, girl. look me in the eyes."

you slowly raised your head, meeting his eyes.

"you're safe in here with me. got it? nobody's coming through that door and nobody's touching a hair on your head. i'm not gonna hurt you. i'm not like those animals downstairs. c'mon, sit down."

he gently took the tips of your fingers and guided you to the edge of the bed. you let yourself be led, too exhausted to fight it. you sat on the edge of the soft mattress, pulling your legs in, while soldier boy sat right next to you. the bed dipped under his weight. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at you from the side.

you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding, your shoulders dropping slightly. innocence made you want to believe every single word coming out of his mouth.

"thank you..." you whispered, feeling a spark of genuine gratitude. "p-please... can you take me home?"

he reached out slowly, calloused fingers touching the side of your face with a lightness you'd never expect from someone his size.

"i don't think so... i told you it's fine, doll. you're safe with me," he repeated softly, almost soothing, as his fingers slid into your hair, pulling a few strands behind your ear. "nobody touches you in here. i'll take care of you."

you gave a small nod, swallowing hard. the relief of hearing those words was huge, but as his hand stayed there, sliding through your hair with a calculated slowness, a strange chill started creeping up your spine.

ben's eyes didn't keep that warm look for long. slowly, while he repeated once more, "you're safe here, nobody's gonna hurt you, i promise," his gaze started dropping. he looked down your neck, focused on your collarbone, and dragged his eyes over the curves of your body, assessing you top to bottom with a heavy, possessive intensity.

that silent inspection made you freeze up instantly. your back straightened on the bed and you tried to pull your legs in closer, feeling your heart race in a completely different way now. it wasn't just the shock of being kidnapped anymore; it was a new kind of fear, born from realizing his protection came with a price tag.

"soldier boy...?" you whispered, voice trembling, stepping back a millimeter on the mattress.

"you can call me ben, little girl," he murmured, leaning his body closer to yours, making the mattress sink even deeper under his weight. his warm breath brushed your cheek. "don't get nervous, okay? you're safe."

his hand, previously in your hair, slid down your shoulder in a slow, firm trail, pressing into your skin with a control that made it clear that despite the sweet words and promises of safety, he had zero intention of letting you off that bed.

ben kept staring, the mattress dipping significantly right beside you. his proximity was already intimidating, but the air shifted completely when he started leaning over you. taking his time, he brought his face close to the side of your neck, closing his eyes and burying his nose there, inhaling deeply to catch your scent.

his hot breath against your skin gave you full-body chills, but in a purely terrifying way.

"you smell like strawberries..." he murmured, his voice muffled and raspy against your skin, like he was savoring the moment.

panic shot through your chest. heart in your throat, your survival instincts kicked in and you pulled away abruptly, trying to put distance between you and him on the bed. fear was written all over your wide eyes.

ben opened his eyes slowly. he didn't look mad, but that soft smile from before vanished, replaced by an expression of pure possessive determination. he simply moved right back toward you, wiping out the space you'd just gained, trapping your body against the headboard.

seeing that he wasn't stopping, complete panic took over. you slammed both hands against his massive chest and pushed with everything you had. you pushed hard, arms trembling from the effort, but ben didn't move an inch. it was like trying to push a concrete wall.

"n-no... please, get off!" you let out a choked cry, voice breaking as tears flooded your face again.

realizing physical strength meant nothing, total desperation set in. you started thrashing around, kicking, trying to pull your arms back, anything to escape his suffocating presence. your breathing got short and fast, a full-blown panic attack choking you.

ben just watched your struggle for a few seconds with a disturbing calm. then, with one quick motion, he reached out and pinned both your arms, throwing his body weight over yours and forcing you flat against the sheets, crushing any chance of resistance.

when you tried to squirm out, ben grabbed your waist tightly, fingers digging into your skin through your clothes, pulling you back with a rough yank that flushed your bodies together. his face was inches from yours, green eyes flashing.

"i'm horny, baby. what're you gonna do to help me out?" he asked, locking your body beneath his.

desperation completely overwhelmed you. you shook your head repeatedly as hot tears spilled over again. you sobbed, pushing against his broad shoulders, trying to break free from an embrace that felt like a steel cage.

"no, please... ben, let me go..." you sobbed weakly.

he just put on a fake sense of sympathy, letting out a soft sigh and tilting his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hair while holding back a sarcastic laugh deep in his throat, finding your innocence amusing.

"none of that, baby. why're you crying, hm? what's wrong?" he asked in that soft, manipulative voice.

when you didn't answer, frozen in fear, his patience flickered. his hand slid down your side and he squeezed your leg so hard, digging his thick fingers into your thigh, that your muscles instantly cramped up. that was definitely leaving a deep purple bruise.

"ah!" you whimpered softly, shrinking back onto the bed. "i don't wanna do this... please, ben."

he heard the plea and gave a subtle nod, eyes half-lidded. he looked at your desperate face before slowly dragging his eyes down, undressing you with his gaze, hungry for your fragility.

he smiled sweetly while raising a hand to stroke your cheek. but before you could breathe a sigh of relief, he closed his fingers and pinched your cheek hard, crushing skin against your teeth, making you groan in pain from the pressure.

"i don't think you get it... i'm horny and i need to get off," he continued, tone turning icy and direct while keeping his grip on your face. "if you don't help me, i'm gonna have to force you, baby. and neither of us wants that, right? we were doing so well. don't ruin our night."

you cried quietly, chest heaving with sobs, shaking your head against his palm, feeling his fingers hurt you while you still uselessly tried to wriggle out from under his weight.

"listen to me, fuck- i'm only gonna say this once, you need to do this," he growled, tone shifting into a sharp military order, the nice guy mask slipping completely. "you don't wanna get shared around by a bunch of different supes downstairs, do you? your little friends down there are probably used to it, but i know you aren't. be a good girl for me, sweetheart. i'll take real good care of you after. don't make me fuck you by force, it won't be fun for either of us."

he slowly released his grip on your face and went back to gently stroking your skin, using his thumb to wipe away your tears with a fake gentleness that gave you chills.

"please, baby."

after a few seconds of silence, you nodded with frightened eyes.

ben grinned, a wide, almost proud smile for breaking your resistance. he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

"good girl. now get on your knees."

you were already on your knees on the floor, body trembling, when he pulled his dick out of his briefs and brushed it against your closed lips.

"open for me, baby."

you hesitated for a second, but he tilted his head with a look that took no for an answer. you opened your mouth, and he slid inside, slow at first, letting you get used to the taste and size.

"there... good girl," he murmured, his hand firm on the back of your neck. "your mouth is so warm."

he started moving, pushing deeper with every thrust, and you tried to keep up, but he quickly took total control. his hand tightened on your neck and he started fucking your mouth hard, using you however he wanted.

you gagged, eyes filling with tears, instinctively slapping his thigh, but he just threw his head back and groaned loud.

"fuck... such a good mouth," he whispered, not slowing down his rhythm. "you're taking me so well, doll. feels like you were made for this."

every compliment confused you more. you hated it, but hearing him say those things made a strange warmth bloom in your chest. you wanted to be good, even this.

even with tears streaming down your face, throat burning, gag reflex triggering with every deep thrust, you wanted him to be satisfied with you.

he kept going, faster, deeper, his hips smacking against your chin with a wet, obscene sound. drool leaked from the corners of your mouth, forming a string that kept snapping and reforming with every motion, running down your chin and dripping onto the floor.

"look at you," he whispered, looking down with eyes dark with lust. "little girl."

he gripped your head with both hands now, fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you at a faster pace, thrusts getting shorter and deeper, his dick hitting the back of your throat every time.

you felt the air running out. your nostrils flared desperately trying to pull in oxygen, but every time he went in, he blocked your breathing, and every time he pulled out, you barely had time to inhale before being filled up again.

"breathe through your nose, baby," he instructed, his voice entirely too calm for what he was doing. "you're okay."

you tried, but it wasn't enough. your head started feeling light, the edges of everything blurring. you slapped his thigh again, harder, asking him to stop, to let you breathe.

he stroked your cheek, stretched over his dick. he paused his hips for a second, and you gasped, pulling in air in ragged gulps. he kept stroking your cheek and then, while you were trying to catch your breath, his hand moved from your cheek up to your nose, pinching your nostrils shut and blocking your air completely.

your eyes went wide, absolute panic taking over. your mouth was full, your nose was shut, and he started moving again, his hips returning to that heavy rhythm.

"hang in there, baby. i'm right here with you," he murmured, looking down at how red your face was turning. poor thing.

you tried to fight back, hands hitting his thigh with all the strength you had left, but he was immovable. the lack of oxygen made you dizzy, bright spots dancing in your vision. you felt your face burning, pressure building inside your head, the only sound you could make being muffled gagging around his dick.

you felt the air vanish completely, lungs burning, vision going black around the edges. your body went limp, your hits against his leg losing power, fingers slipping off his skin.

you were gonna pass out. you knew you were passing out.

just as your eyes fluttered shut, he let go of your nose.

air rushed into your lungs like a wave of pure relief, and in that exact moment, his body tensed and he came with a long, raspy groan, hot liquid filling your mouth, the taste spreading over your tongue.

"swallow," he ordered, voice firm, the hand on your nose moving down to cover your mouth, not letting you spit.

you swallowed, throat straining, the liquid going down. it tasted strong, salty, making your stomach turn, but you swallowed it all, just like he told you to.

when he was done, he let go of your mouth, and you collapsed backward onto the floor, gasping, lungs burning, head spinning. you were way too weak, too dizzy, body shaking uncontrollably.

ben looked down, seeing you collapsed on the floor, curled up and trembling, breathing erratic, eyes glassy and teary. he smiled, a slow, satisfied grin.

"you did so good, baby girl," he murmured softly, like he was rewarding you. "i'm so proud of you."

he kneeled beside you and ran a hand through your hair, smoothing down the sweaty strands with a slowness that contrasted brutally with what happened seconds ago.

"how're you feeling, baby? talk to me," he whispered, fingers stroking your cheek.

"i... i feel tired... i think," you managed to say, voice cracking halfway through.

ben didn't even wait for you to finish. he gave a sympathetic smile and slid his arms under your trembling body, lifting you into his lap effortlessly, pulling your chest to his. you instinctively rested your head against his shoulder, smelling his skin mixed with sweat as he carried you the short distance to the bed.

he laid you down on the mattress carefully, like he was handling something fragile and precious. the moment your back hit the soft sheets, ben got comfortable beside you. one of his hands immediately went to your head, long, firm fingers sliding through your damp hair, massaging your scalp in a slow caress that started making you relax.

"sorry for being so rough..." he murmured near your face, voice laced with a regret that made you forget the grip on your nose from moments earlier. "sometimes i lose control a bit, i didn't wanna hurt you."

while his fingers kept up the soothing rhythm in your hair, his other hand moved down to the hem of your shirt. with slow movements, he started pulling the fabric up over your stomach, fingertips brushing your warm skin and giving you goosebumps.

"let's take this off, hm? so you can breathe better," he whispered, lifting your upper body slightly with one hand to slide the shirt off your arms, exposing your black bra.

his hands moved to the clasp on your back, undoing it and letting the bra loosen. he slid the straps off your shoulders, exposing your breasts, nipples hardening from the cold air.

he didn't even wait for you to get used to being exposed. his eyes darkened instantly, locked onto your chest, and he leaned in, burying his face against your skin.

you let out a nervous little laugh as ben's hot mouth cupped your nipple, sucking with a hunger that caught you off guard. his tongue worked slowly, alternating between both sides, licking and sucking like he was starving.

you wriggled, feeling heat rush through you, and after what felt like forever, you whined softly, "ben, my... my tits hurt." the sensation felt good, but it was starting to ache from how hard he was sucking. you put your hands on his shoulders to try and control the pace. your nipples were getting sore and sensitive under his mouth.

hearing you, he slowed it down. he pulled back slowly, dragging his face up your chest until he reached your mouth, leaving a long, sweet kiss, pressing his lips to yours with a gentleness that melted your whole body. when he pulled away, he kept his eyes on yours, breathing a little heavy.

his hand slid down your waist, resting on the waistband of your pants. "can i?" he asked in a raspy whisper.

you hesitated for a second, heart jumping in your chest. his eyes were patient, waiting for your okay.

"yeah..." you answered softly, looking away for a second.

he smiled when he heard you, a slow, satisfied grin, like you'd just handed him a present.

he slid your pants down your legs with slow movements, fingers brushing your skin. when they hit your ankles, he tossed them aside, but his eyes never left your panties. they were visibly soaked.

he tilted his head, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

"look at that," he murmured, eyes fixed on the wet spot. "you're already dripping, sweetheart."

he ran a finger over the fabric, pressing lightly over your entrance, feeling the heat and wetness through the cloth. the touch made you shiver, your hips moving involuntarily toward his hand.

he chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"are you like this 'cause you sucked my cock? or 'cause i sucked your tits?" he asked, eyes studying you.

you didn't answer, looking away embarrassed.

he let out a low, warm laugh, shaking his head with amusement.

"little one," he murmured, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your cheek. "don't be shy."

his lips brushed your skin as he spoke, stubble lightly scratching your face.

his hand on your waist started moving down. slowly, fingers slid over your stomach, tracing a path down to your groin. his palm pressed against your panties, feeling the heat, the wetness, your body trembling slightly.

"it's okay," he whispered, voice soft against your cheek. "let me touch you."

his fingers found the exact spot over your panties, starting to move in slow circles, pressing, stroking. you held your breath, hips moving on their own, seeking more contact.

he kept up the movement, fingers sliding over the wet fabric, finding your clit and rubbing firm, slow circles. you let out a soft moan, eyes closed, head falling back.

"that's it, doll," he whispered, lips brushing your ear. "let me hear you. let me feel you."

his fingers sped up a little, pressure building, and you felt pleasure surge, heat spreading through your core.

"you're so wet," he continued, voice low and raspy. "i could stay right here all night, y'know? just touching you, listening to you moan."

you felt the pressure mounting, pleasure building way too fast, a strange urgency overtaking your lower belly that you couldn't control.

"ben... wait..." you groaned, voice shaky, hands flying to his wrist. "stop, ben... i think i'm gonna pee..."

he didn't stop. if anything, his fingers kept moving even firmer, and he tilted his head, a slow smile forming on his lips.

"oh yeah?" he asked, voice dripping with amusement. "you think you're gonna pee, baby?"

"yeah, ben, stop, please..." you begged, hips trying to pull away, but his free hand gripped your hip tight, pinning you in place.

"you're fine," he said, voice calm, almost sweet. "you're not gonna pee, sweetheart. you're gonna come. that's all it is."

his fingers sped up even more, pressure intensifying, and you felt the orgasm crashing in, your whole body shaking.

"that's it, doll," he whispered raspily. "come for me. let me see you come."

and you came, body arching, a scream trapped in your throat as pleasure washed over you in waves. he kept moving, stretching out your orgasm until you were way too sensitive, hips squirming to get away from his hand.

he slowly pulled his fingers away, thumb still tracing light circles on your swollen clit, feeling you pulse. he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, eyes locked on yours, a slow smirk spreading.

"you're so sweet, sweetheart," he murmured softly. "so fucking hot. i could fuck you up all night."

he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deep, tongue sliding against yours, making you taste yourself on his mouth.

he pulled back and positioned himself between your legs, the head of his dick resting against your entrance. he stayed there for a moment, just pressing lightly, feeling the heat and wetness.

"you feel that, baby?" he asked gently. "feel how hard i am?"

you stayed quiet, eyes darting away, body tense. you were scared—was he really about to push that... inside you?

he waited a second, two, and when he saw you weren't gonna answer, he shook his head with a smile.

he pressed in a little more, slipping past your entrance, making you feel the heat and pressure.

then you spoke. your voice came out as a fragile, trembling thread.

"please, don't..."

he froze instantly. for a second, he stayed dead still, and you felt his body go tense over yours. when he raised his head to look at you, his eyes were cold.

"what?" he asked, voice low.

"i don't think i want to..." you repeated, voice firmer, but tears were already spilling over. "please... can i just go home?"

he huffed, an annoyed sound escaping his throat. the hand resting on the bed beside your head balled into a fist.

"no, doll... you're staying here to keep me company, yeah?"

you didn't answer, and he tilted his head, eyes dark. he grabbed your hip hard, fingers digging into your skin, and shoved his cock all the way in at once.

you screamed, a sharp, painful sound, hands flying to his shoulders, trying to push him off. but he was immovable, heavy, and started moving rough, thrusts deep and brutal.

"shh... i know, it hurts, right?" he whispered near your ear, hot breath mixing with his rapid breathing. he kept pounding into you, firm thrusts making your body shake on the bed, his hands gripping your hips. "but look at you, baby. you're so strong, y'know that? taking all of this for me... you're being so brave, sweetheart."

you blinked back teary eyes, mind confused by the mix of severe pain and the sweet words he was saying. you looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, and whispered in a small, naive voice, "do you... do you promise? please"

an insanely sweet, warm smile spread across his lips, contrasting completely with how hard he was fucking your pussy. he leaned down and kissed your forehead gently, then the tip of your nose.

"of course, my baby," he answered, voice full of pride and genuine adoration. "such a good girl."

hearing that made something shift inside you. his validation, his protective tone, and the compliments started acting like a drug on your brain. your fear started receding, replaced by a desperate need to keep pleasing him, to keep hearing those sweet words.

you let out a shaky breath and consciously tried to relax your hips, stopping the fight against the pain, letting him slide in easier.

his face lit up when he felt your body stop gripping his cock so tight. he let out a low, satisfied groan and slowed down his pace just to savor the feeling of you giving in completely.

"there... doll," he praised, voice thick with lust as he ran his fingers through your hair, pulling back gently to make you look at him. "look at how well you take me. you're a good girl, aren't you? my good girl."

you nodded, teary eyes shining with a mix of physical pain and a strange sense of relief and comfort. hearing that you were good, that you were doing the right thing, and that he was proud made all the pain feel manageable—almost necessary.

one of his hands stayed at your core, stretched around his dick, rubbing you slowly. his other hand slid up your stomach, large fingers moving millimeter by millimeter, tracing your ribs until resting at the base of your neck, feeling your pulse racing.

he gave a deeper thrust, real slow, savoring the way you caught your breath. his hips pressed against yours, holding there for a few seconds before slowly pulling back.

he nuzzled his nose against your cheek lazily, moving down to your neck to leave a long, wet kiss. "can daddy come in this little pussy? can i fill you up with my cum?"

he paused his movement, staying still inside you, broad chest rising and falling against yours. he raised his head slowly, looking straight into your eyes. for a second, you thought he was gonna get mad again, but his expression stayed soft, almost comforting. a small smile touched his lips, the thumb of his free hand stroking the corner of your mouth so sweetly.

"look at me," he whispered, voice sweet as honey, though carrying that undeniable tone of authority that kept you nervous. "let daddy fill you up, yeah? please"

you looked up at him, eyes shining, tears finally spilling over your temples. the way he spoke, mixing that sweet tone with such aggressive actions, made your head spin. you wanted to be protected. wanted him to keep telling you that you were good.

"okay..." you whispered, surrendering what little resistance you had left.

"that's my good girl. you did so good."

he started moving again, slow at first, deep thrusts making you feel every inch of him sliding inside. his hand stroked your face as he moved, thumbs wiping away the tears still falling.

"such a tight fucking pussy," he whispered low, like sharing a secret. "and it belongs to me, right?"

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. you couldn't say it.

he waited a second, two, and when he saw you weren't gonna answer, his patience ran out.

his hand left your face and dropped to your neck, thick fingers wrapping around your throat. he squeezed—not enough to choke you out, but enough to scare you, to remind you that your life was in his hands.

"is this pussy mine?" he asked again, voice slow and clear, hand still gripping your neck, eyes locked onto yours.

you felt the pressure increase slightly, a reminder of what could happen.

"it's yours," you whispered, voice broken.

"nah baby, not like that. louder, yeah?" he ordered, grip tightening a bit more.

"it's yours!" you said louder.

he smiled, satisfied, and let go of your neck. his hand moved up to stroke your cheek, touch gentle now, like a reward for obeying.

"such a grown-up girl. that's it, my baby," he murmured sweetly.

he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deep, while continuing to fuck you hard, his body shaking over yours.

you felt your muscles start to contract, hips moving on their own, fingers digging into his shoulders. moans slipped out of your mouth uncontrollably, breathing short and shallow.

"doll... come for me, yeah?" he murmured against your ear, hand sliding down to your lower belly.

he started rubbing your clit while your body stayed stretched open around his dick, fingers working slow while he kept fucking you.

you felt the orgasm approaching like an unstoppable wave.

your legs started shaking and your thigh muscles tensed.

he felt your body clamp down tight around his dick while you moaned softly.

he kept rubbing you, extending your orgasm until your moans turned into whimpers.

"daddy..."

his body shook, muscles tensing, and he came immediately, the hot spurt filling you up with an intensity that made you groan again.

"fuck, goddamn..." he growled, voice raspy and broken, body shuddering over yours.

when he finally stopped, he stayed on top of you for a long moment, out of breath, forehead resting against yours. his breathing was heavy, body still trembling slightly.

he stayed still for a while, just feeling you pulse around him, hot breath against your face. then, slowly, he raised his head and looked at you. his eyes were softer now, the intense rush fading, his hand coming up to stroke your face.

"you alright?" he asked, voice low and raspy, almost worried.

took you a second to answer, voice stuck in your throat. tears were still slipping out the corners of your eyes, body still trembling.

"i..." you started, voice cracking. "yeah..."

you couldn't finish the sentence, and he waited patiently, eyes locked on yours.

"does it hurt?" he asked, hand sliding down to your thigh, fingers tracing circles on your skin.

"a little," you admitted, voice weak.

he leaned down and kissed your forehead, a long, warm kiss.

"it'll pass, girl," he whispered against your skin. "it'll pass, i promise."

he moved slowly, pulling his dick out, and you felt the empty sensation followed by the warm trickling down your thigh. he laid down beside you and pulled you close, wrapping his arms tight around you.

"take a deep breath for me," he requested calmly. "inhale... and let it out slow."

you matched his breathing, taking a deep breath, feeling air fill your lungs, then releasing it slowly. his hand stroked your hair while you breathed, fingers sliding through sweaty strands.

"that's it, baby," he murmured. "slowly. you're doing great."

you felt your body start to relax, tension slowly draining. he kept stroking your hair, hand warm and firm on your neck.

"does it hurt a lot?" he asked again, sounding concerned.

"just a little," you answered softly. "i'm a bit sensitive too."

he smiled, a tired but genuine smile, and kissed your forehead again.

"you were so good, little one," he said, stroking your cheek.

you felt a strange warmth in your chest hearing that, even after everything that had happened.

"you really think so?" you asked, voice tiny.

he raised his head to look at you, eyes locked on yours.

"fuck- yeah, baby."

he pressed you against his chest, arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting on your stomach.

you felt your eyes getting heavy, exhaustion taking over your body. his hand was still on your stomach, the warmth of his palm comforting you as you snuggled against him.

"get some sleep, doll," he murmured into your hair.

and you fell asleep, body aching but mind quieted down, curled up in his arms.

...

days later, when you were back working at the cafe like normal, he walked back in.

did you really think he'd avoid you? silly girl.

you handed him his order, black coffee, as usual.

he took the cup, took a sip, and left without saying a word.

but before stepping out, he looked back over his shoulder and gestured with his head toward the restroom.

and so, every week, he'd show up right at the end of your shift, order his coffee, finish it, and head to the bathroom.

he'd force you to your knees, unbutton his pants, and shove his dick in your mouth. you'd gag every time, tears spilling over, and he'd keep fucking your mouth hard anyway, ignoring your hands slapping his thigh.

he didn't talk to you beyond what was necessary. it was always a "my good girl, hm?," "shh doll, hang in there fuck," "night, baby." "please make daddy happy"

a few times he'd turn you around, lift your skirt, and fuck your pussy against the sink. you'd hold onto the cold edge, knees weak, while he shoved in hard and came inside you. the cum would drip down your thigh, and he'd kiss your forehead.

"did i hurt you, doll?"

you'd always say no, and then he'd fix your panties and skirt, leave a wet kiss on your lips, and walk out.

[mast3rbait3r]

hi alex baby!!

thinking about begging pope to degrade you.. he doesn’t like to be mean because he lovesss you and is always sweet but you want him to be mean.. spit in your mouth, grip your throat, call you some.. names extra

lmk what you think love!!

hi laney!!!! :3 thank you sm for the request, i am actually drooling over the thought of this rn <33333

content warning: soft dom! pope, sub! reader, fem/afab! reader, reader wants to be degraded but pope struggles to be mean, rough sex (phew), eventual degradation, spitplay, light choking

word count: 935 :)

when you first brought up the idea of being degraded during sex, pope was mildly confused.

"what am i supposed to say?"

he questions you, watching as your expression falters slightly. he had no idea you were that interested in being called mean things, let alone how much it turned you on.

"like... i don't know- call me your slut, your fucktoy, something like that."

he blinks, unsure he's ever heard such filthy words come out of his innocent girlfriend's mouth before. he thinks for a moment, deciding how he should actually go about doing this for you. as much as he hated being mean to you, he hated seeing you disappointed and the thought of you not feeling good because of him more. he would do this for you, one way or another. so when he scoops you up and carries you off to his room, you can't help but giggle in satisfaction.

"don't be afraid, okay? you can be rough with me."

you whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. he shivers at your words, at how willing you sounded. he goes to set you down on the bed, but you tap his shoulder to stop him.

"toss me..."

you smirk at him, and he looks at you as if you've grown two heads. you plead with him again, and he finally does it. he tosses you onto the bed, watching as you chuckle, bouncing once before landing on your back. he watches for any hints that you were in pain, but he didn't find any. so, he gets more comfortable, climbing over top of you. you smile up at him, running a hand through his curls.

taking your advice, he decides to take his first shot in the dark. he takes his fingers, shoving them in the hands of your pants and yanking them down your legs in one go. lucky for you, your panties came down with them, leaving you panting with a lustful haze in your eyes. he slams his lips down onto yours, yanking your shirt over your head next. he then slides his hand down between your legs next, feeling how obscenely wet you already were.

"you really are a little whore, aren't you?"

you whine as he plunges two thick fingers inside you, causing your back to arch off the bed when his thumb rubs against your clit. the squelching sounds of his fingers in your pussy has both of you feeling dizzy. he was slowly starting to get into this whole 'being mean' thing, and it was turning you on immensely. he leans forward, kissing and sucking on your neck.

"such a needy pussy..."

he grunts in your ear, his fingers speeding up until you're clenching so tightly that he can barely move them. your orgasm is explosive, nails digging into his shoulders as your thighs tremble. he removes his fingers, sucking your juices off of them as you squirm beneath him. he can tell that you want more, and he's nobody to deny his girl.

he flips you over onto your tummy, smacking your ass so hard it stung. you yelped, but your back was arching like you wanted more. he slides off his own jeans, followed by his shirt. he gets off the bed, standing at the edge. he grabs your ankles and yanks you toward the edge until your ass hits his thighs. you get on your hands and knees without having to be asked, pressing your ass back against the straining bulge in his boxers. he slaps your ass again, feeling mesmerized as he watches the skin ripple.

"please, andrew... i need you."

you whine, pushing back against him again.

"yeah? you wanna be my fucktoy, sweetheart?"

you moan at his words, looking at him over your shoulder.

"yes... please..."

he obliges, freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers. he pumps himself a few times, leaning forward and holding his hand in front of your face.

"spit."

he orders, and you listen. you spit into his palm and hear him grunt as he strokes himself with your saliva now covering his cock. he pushes inside you, the angle making both you moan loudly. he's got a firm grip on your hips as he starts to thrusts into you. he doesn't waste time going slow, knowing you wanted the opposite. he's pistoning in and out of you, watching your ass bounce with every thrust. you're moaning loudly beneath him, and he knows he won't be able to last much longer.

"dirty fucking girl... so desperate for this cock, aren't you?"

he leans over, wrapping his hand around your throat and yanking you upward so your back is arched against his chest. he squeezes his fingers just right around the column of your throat, making your brain feel fuzzy as raspy whines spill from your mouth. he turns your head with his other hand, opening your mouth and spitting in it. all you can do is moan shamelessly as your eyes roll back into your head.

"gonna fuck you stupid, baby."

he mutters in your ear, reaching down to rub your clit until you're cumming hard around his cock. he fucks you through your orgasm as he spills deep inside you. he holds you close for a couple more seconds, before letting you rest gently back on the bed. all the harshness from before dissipated instantly. he laid next to you, making sure that you were okay. when he saw the bashful smile on your face as you buried it into his chest, he knew he was successful.

a/n: um so yeah i came all over the screen while writing this i am so damn feral. need him to split me in half asap, pls and thank you.

taglist: @nyxmoretti @popecodysgirl @sunbonesss @in-ky @nightpitt @uncassettodiricordi @thedivinegirlyp0p

divider creds: @/ghostgum and @/viviansturns

[cumkissed]

❛ 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 ❜

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

02 . ⠀⠀ ˚ ﹒ ૮ ⠀⠀⠀━╋⠀⠀𖤝 content warnings :: fem!reader . drunk!reader . watersports / piss kink . degradation . humiliation . rough handling . hair pulling . bathroom setting . power imbalance . mean dom!ben . oral fixation

navigation . kofi

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.”

© CUMKISSED ♡ | EST. JUNE 2026 ˎˊ˗ all original content found here belongs to me. canon material belongs to its respective owners. don't repost it, don't feed it to ai, don't translate it, don't archive it elsewhere, and definitely don't pretend you wrote it. ♡

[opulentpeony]

title: chokehold dynamic: stepfather!jack x stepdaughter!reader x godfather!pope tw: dd:dne, rape/non-con (bc of somnophilia), fem!reader, fauxcest (you call them “dad”, they call you “kid”/”kiddo”), perv!jack & perv!pope, reader has chronic fatigue (like me!) but it's actually kind of munchausen by proxy (you're tired all the time bc your dads have been fucking you in your sleep…), medical malpractice, egregious age gap (18/45), there's only one bed!, murder, implied loss of virginity, non-consensual drug use (sedatives and painkillers), unprotected sex, threesome, breeding kink, double vaginal penetration, implied anal (not written out, just referenced), forced orgasms, fear play, choking, squirting, fingerfucking, thumbsucking (what is wrong with me…), cum play (pope puts his cum in your food bc he's so icky!), humiliation/degradation kink, size difference, this is just filthy porn (sorry not sorry) context: your dads take such good care of you! but apparently that's not normal… wc: 3.7k

a/n: happy father's day to my dads, jack and pope! I lowkey forgot it was father's day so I whipped this up real quick and nasty oop-

hope it's a hot (but mostly sick!) read ♡

You made a post online that's going viral and you don't understand why.

You just asked the internet a simple question…but the answers you're getting are changing your thoughts on your relationship with your dads.

Title: Is it weird that my stepfather [45M] and my godfather [45M] sleep with me [18F]? Post: Hi there. I live with my stepfather and his twin brother who is my godfather. I lost my mom recently and so my godfather moved in with us to help take care of me. I'm obviously an adult so I don't need the help but I do have a chronic illness so it has been wonderful having him around to help with things that are difficult for me to do like cooking and cleaning. Though, we only have one bedroom in our apartment since we moved so I could have better access to medical care. But it works out because my stepfather works nights so usually I sleep on my own in the bed and my godfather sleeps on our couch. But I felt bad that he's sleeping uncomfortably so I offered to let him share the bed with me and he didn't for a while but eventually caved after I told him it would make me feel better knowing he slept well. Now we've been sleeping together all the time and apparently that's weird? But he's practically my dad so I don't find it that weird but a few friends of mine have told me that it's really odd for me to sleep next to him as an adult. And it's apparently even weirder that sometimes my stepfather joins us when he's tired after his night shift and we're both still asleep in bed. I'm just looking to see if anyone else finds this weird…and should I say something about it?

People have flooded the comments of your post, telling you that your dads are “perverted creeps who are trying to take advantage of you” and it's especially bad because “you're not even related to them”.

But they're your dads…

And they've always considered you their kid.

So, seeing so many people online calling them predators makes you upset. Your dads are nothing but respectful of you. They take such good care of you.

You always wake up feeling good on the nights you sleep besides either of them. Even better when they're both there.

But you can't seem to escape the exhaustion you feel all the time…

Your stepfather, Dr. Jack Abbot, tells you that you simply have a rare condition that has you feeling more physically tired than other people but there isn't really any kind of solution to it. You just have to deal with it, unfortunately.

You are incredibly grateful to your godfather, Andrew Cody, who Jack calls “Pope”, for all of his help. You're spoiled by his cooking and he keeps the apartment spotless to help prevent you from getting any more sick than you already are.

A commenter had asked you when the fatigue started and you told them after your mom died. You had assumed it was because she died so suddenly. You never had a good relationship with her, especially after you found out she was cheating on Jack, but you seemed to take her death hard because that's when you began feeling so tired all the time.

Then, that same commenter messages you directly and tells you that they think your dads are doing something to you and that is why you have such bad fatigue.

What a crazy thought.

There's no way that could be true…right?

Your dads love you. They would never—

“What are you looking at, kiddo?”

You flinch when you feel hands on your shoulders. You quickly shut your phone screen off, hoping Pope didn't catch the message you were reading…

“Just some dumb video.” You lie through your teeth.

“It's almost bedtime.” He pats the top of your head. “Do you want to shower first or can I?”

“You can go first, dad.” You look up at him and he leans down, giving you a kiss on the lips. Like he always does.

Definitely nothing weird about that!

“I'll be sure to keep the water running so it stays warm for you.” Pope loves the smile you give him.

Whenever he showers before you, he just wraps a towel around his waist when he's done and then leaves the shower running so the water is nice and ready for you.

Again, totally not odd behavior that your godfather is constantly showing off his well built body to you.

“All yours, kid.” He nudges you towards the bathroom so he can get changed.

Your eyes dart down to the towel around his waist and then you quickly head into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You have no idea why your heart is racing all of a sudden. It's because you keep thinking about what that commenter had sent you.

I bet your dads touch you in your sleep. Maybe even fuck you. Makes sense why you're always so tired when you wake up but still feeling good.

That can't possibly be true. You've never had sex before so there's no way.

Wouldn't you have felt an ache if they had?

You…remember that you did feel an ache, the first few nights after you moved in with Jack when your mom died. But when you told him about it, he dismissed it as stress from the grief. And you believed him.

Because he's your dad. You trust him.

It had never even crossed your mind that he would do something like that to you in your sleep…

Him and Pope.

Your mind drifts to the obvious bulge you saw your godfather sporting when he left the bathroom. You may have never seen his cock bare before but you've definitely noticed the outline of it whenever he wears sweatpants. Or when he gets too close to you in your sleep and you can feel his morning wood rubbing up against your ass…

But that's just normal for a man! He isn't hard because of you!

That's what you're trying to fool yourself into believing…but the truth is, Pope has been waiting all day for you to fall asleep so he can use that perfect little pussy of yours to get off.

It's his favorite thing in the world, pumping a load of cum deep inside his goddaughter without you knowing that it's happening.

Ever since Jack told him that's what he has been doing to you, Pope had to move in with the two of you so he could join in on the fun.

He never knew how perverted his twin brother was. Perverted enough to marry your mom to have access to you, his pretty stepdaughter. Perverted enough to ask Pope to kill your mom so Jack didn't have to deal with the divorce and so he could keep you by his side. Perverted enough to make Pope your godfather so he could have access to you too.

It's hard not to be disgustingly infatuated with you. You're an incredibly beautiful girl, who is so naive and innocent that you let two predators lay beside you in bed consensually.

So, it isn't their fault that they have the desperate desire to touch you. You made them like this!

And they made your body incredibly horny for them, even though you don't know it.

You cum so hard when your dads touch you in your sleep. Sometimes Jack has to sedate you so they have time to change out the sheets and clean you up before you wake up.

When they're a bit rougher than they mean to, Jack will give you a dose of painkillers so you don't feel the pain as much. Those are the days where he really has to feign like your illness has flared up.

Like it did this morning.

You wake up with a cramp in your belly and Jack and Pope both still asleep beside you. Jack must've just gotten home from his shift because his hair is still a little damp from the shower he takes before he goes to sleep.

The shower he takes after he fucks you to his heart's content.

You shake him awake because you're nervous about the belly ache. “Dad?”

“What's wrong, kiddo?” Jack opens his eyes, looking up at your worried ones. “Is everything okay?”

“My tummy hurts.” You tell him, clutching your stomach.

“Here.” Pope stirs awake too, wrapping his arms around you, placing his big hands on your lower belly. “This will help.”

You feel a rush of something straight to your core when his hard cock presses up against your ass. Like a need for him to be buried inside of you.

Wait, what?

You snap out of your head because you can't believe you just thought that!

You turn your attention back to Jack. “I don't know why it hurts. I didn't eat anything weird yesterday. Just Pope's cooking, like always.”

That makes Jack look up at Pope. Because he knows Pope has been jerking off into your food. His brother does it out of a weird desire for you to always have him inside of you. Something that Jack also wants, but he settles for cumming in your pussy and your ass.

“You just need rest, kiddo.” Pope rests his face in the nape of your neck, giving you a kiss there that sends those same unnerving shivers down to your core.

“I-I think I'm going to go watch some TV.” You quickly scramble out of Pope's hold and he bites back a grunt of annoyance at that. “Maybe the distraction will help.”

You leave the room and when they're both sure you can't hear them, Jack turns to Pope and says, “I fucking told you we shouldn't have both stuck it in her pussy at the same time.”

“But you saw the way she squirted like crazy. She loved it.”

“That's not the point.” Jack will not lose his only stress outlet because Pope wants to figure out more ways to make you cum harder and harder.

Pope had told Jack about the message he read over your shoulder. And conveniently, you went out to the living room just now to watch TV and you didn't take your phone.

So, Jack grabs it off the nightstand and goes through it.

Finding your post about him and Pope.

Seeing the comments and the private messages about it.

And the most recent reply you sent to the commenter who told you that they might be fucking you in your sleep.

I think you might be right.

Jack shows everything to Pope, who takes the phone from him. He decides to go through your search history to see if you had looked into reporting them to the police because he can't risk going back to prison. Even though he knows you don't have any evidence to back up this claim. Him and Jack are very thorough with their clean up.

But all he sees are searches you made asking for advice on how to stop wanting to fuck your—

Jack catches the phone when Pope throws it to him all of a sudden. “What the fuck—”

Pope stalks into the living room and you're startled to see him staring at you with such lust in his eyes.

Then, his words send such a fright through you, “you want us to fuck you?”

“W-What?” Your throat goes completely dry.

Because how does he know—

You glance over at Jack, who has your phone in his hand, adjusting his prosthetic with his other hand since he had to put it on quickly.

Heat fills your entire body instantly.

They looked through your phone.

They know what you searched up.

“Why didn't you just tell us, kiddo?” Jack walks up to you, joining his brother's side. “We would be happy to fuck you.”

“I-I…” You don't know what to say.

Because how are you supposed to tell your dads that you want them to fuck you?

That's just insane behavior!

Almost as insane as your godfather sitting down beside you on the couch so he can grab your face and kiss you.

This is nothing like the short pecks on the lips your dads give you.

This is…intense.

You can hardly breathe and you yelp against his lips when Jack sits down behind you and his hands slip under your shirt, going straight to tugging at your nipples. You never wear a bra to sleep and now you're regretting it…

Or, are you happy about it? Because you're building so much slick between your legs with every rough tug.

It's like he knows just how to touch you to get you close to cumming already.

Jack's rough handling of your breasts coupled with Pope's feverish kissing has your head spinning like crazy.

You have to put a stop to this!

“Wait, dad—” You're suddenly tugged towards Jack, your back crashing against his chest, and now he has your legs pinned wide open by his legs on the couch. “What are you doing—!”

Pope suddenly rips your shirt off your chest, causing you to let out a shriek that has Jack clamping his hand over your mouth.

“Quiet, kiddo.” His words have your head going fuzzy. “I'm sure you wouldn't want our neighbors to hear you cumming because of your dads.”

You bite back another shriek when Pope rips apart your sleep shorts and your underwear, leaving you completely naked in Jack's hold. Jack keeps one hand over your mouth and then the other one goes back to your breasts, rolling your nipple between his fingertips, causing you to moan uncontrollably into his palm.

“She's fucking dripping.” Pope runs his fingers along the length of your soaked slit. “She wants to get fucked again already.”

Wait, what does he mean by again—

You gasp against Jack's hand when Pope buries his face between your legs, his tongue dipping into you right away. You squirm but Jack keeps you trapped, forcing you to accept Pope's incessant tongue.

Pope has watched you cum from his mouth many times by now, but this is the first time he'll see you cum while you're awake.

So he needs to make it amazing.

You choke back another scream when Pope sticks three of his fingers inside of you. You can't believe how easily they slipped into you.

That's when the realization hits that your dads have definitely touched you in your sleep.

Because how else would Pope knows exactly where to curl his fingers to have you squirting all over them?

The orgasms he's forcing out of you have you whimpering into Jack's palm, the intensity of the pleasure tearing you apart.

“We're going to need a new couch if you keep cumming so hard.” Pope degrades you right before his fingers start moving roughly side to side, forcing you to cum even harder than before.

It only gets amplified when Jack turns your head towards him and starts kissing you so he can silence you that way since he wants to play with your perky breasts using both hands. You moan against his lips when he pinches your nipples.

Then, you completely fall apart when Pope's lips latch around your clit and start sucking that sensitive bundle of nerves.

You can't stop cumming.

This can't be happening, it can't—

“Don't pass out yet, kid.” Jack breathes out against your lips. “Your dads still have to fuck you.”

“No, no.” You shake your head, looking at Jack and Pope. “Dads, please. We can't, we can't—!”

“Make her ride your cock while I suck her clit.” Pope tells Jack, who doesn't hesitate to listen.

You feel your stepfather’s huge cock hit your back. Then, you're lifted up by them both until Jack's cock is perfectly aligned with your entrance. Jack sets you down gently but Pope, in his impatience, just slams you down, drawing out another sudden squirting orgasm.

“Delicious.” Pope finds his way back between your legs. “Now ride your dad’s cock, kiddo.”

You refuse to do so but then Jack puts you in a chokehold, his muscular arm cutting off your air as he whispers, “bounce on it or I'll strangle you to death.”

“Here, I'll help.” Pope grabs your thighs and lifts you up almost completely off Jack's cock before slamming you back down.

You don't even have to do the work. Pope has no trouble helping you pound his brother's cock inside of you. He does this over and over again until you're cumming so much on his tongue as he plays with your clit.

Jack keeps you breathless with his arm tightly held around your throat while his other hand goes up to your mouth. “Open wide or else.”

You have to listen so you part your lips for his thumb to slip in.

“Suck on it, kid.” He instructs and you hate the pleasure that shoots through you when you do.

The oral fixation, the inability to breathe, Jack's cock buried in your pussy, Pope's tongue on your clit, it's all so overwhelming that you can't control the orgasms that consume you.

And it only gets more unbelievable when Pope shoves a finger inside of you alongside Jack's cock. He stuffs another finger in, then another, until you're so full that your eyes start to water from the stretch. Then, your body starts convulsing when his fingers curl inside of you, sending you into a complete frenzy.

Jack loosens his chokehold and pulls his thumb out of your mouth so you can gulp in some air. “Good girl, deep breaths. You can take it. You need to make room for your dad’s cock.”

You don't understand what he's saying. Jack's cock is already inside of you.

What does he mean by—

You let out a scream when you feel Pope's cock pushing into you from the front, replacing his fingers. Jack leans you further back, to give Pope more room to push into you.

“No, stop, it's too much!” You shove at Pope but he snatches your wrists with his hand and grabs the back of the couch for leverage with his other hand.

“It's nothing you haven't taken before.” Pope's words have you staring back at him with such shock. “You're doing so well, kiddo. Just a little more and my cock can kiss your womb like Jack's is.”

“Does my daughter like it when her dad's cock kisses her womb?” Jack asks you and you can't even find the brainpower to react.

Your dads are fucking you stupid. You actually can't think. Your mind is so entirely focused on their cocks splitting you apart.

That you haven't even taken a moment to realize they're fucking you raw.

“Wait, I'm not on birth control!” You wriggle in Pope's grip, trying to fight him again.

Jack has you back in a chokehold then, not letting you resist this. “It's okay if you get pregnant, kiddo. Your dads are here to help.”

“We'll take good care of you and our baby.” Pope gestures for Jack to move his hand down to your lower belly. He massages right above your womb, making you fully aware of how full you feel with both of your dad's cocks buried deep inside of you.

“Let's give your womb a lovely kiss now.” Jack suddenly thrusts his hips upwards, slamming the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb, forcing you to squirt on their cocks against your will.

“Told you she loves it.” Pope follows Jack's lead, ramming his cock deeper, kissing your womb with the tip of his cock over and over again.

They find a rhythm that has you trembling between them. You're stuck, unable to move, your body growing almost limp from the pleasure searing your skin.

At a certain point, you give in completely. That's when Pope lets go of your wrists so he can grab a hold of your face and kiss you while he fucks you. Jack frees you from his chokehold so he can have one hand playing with your breasts while the other slips between your legs and rubs your clit.

You're overstimulated to the max, but you love every second of it.

Your dads are so focused on making you feel good, drowning you in a bliss that you will never be able to get from anyone else but them.

They've ruined you entirely.

“Say you want your dads to cum inside of you.” Pope demands, his words so hot on your swollen lips.

“Say you want your dads to fuck a sibling inside of you.” Jack's words surprise even Pope, who smiles devilishly at his fucked up brother.

They truly are twins.

And you're their fucked up kid.

“I want my dads to cum inside of me.” You can't believe the words coming out of your mouth as you cum on their cocks. “I want my dads to fuck a sibling into me. Please, I want my dads to fill up my womb.”

That seems to trigger your dads to pour endless amounts of their release deep inside of you. Hot ropes of cum flood your pussy and you can't stop the orgasms that the feeling of being so full causes.

You're still cumming when your dads slip their cocks out of you. You cum even harder when they each shove three of their fingers inside of you, plugging you up, keeping their cum from spilling out of you.

“I can't cum anymore…” You say even though you can feel it building from them curling their fingers, stirring up your insides in the way only they can.

“Oh, you can.” Jack knows you can because him and Pope have trained your body well.

“And you will. You'll cum until we're hard again and then we'll fuck you again. And again. Until you can't fit any more of our cum inside of you, kiddo.” Pope tells you before giving you a loving kiss on the lips.

Jack does the same, kissing you like you mean the world to him.

You must mean a lot to them.

Why else would they take such good care of you?

That's why you message back that commenter: I love my dads.

And Jack chuckles when he gets that message in his inbox.

What a cute kid he has.

He shows the message to Pope, finally revealing that Jack baited you into accepting them.

Pope shares a laugh with his brother, finding you so adorable.

They really love being your dads.

a/n: I love my dads sm, even when they do me so nasty oop-

honestly I'm impressed with myself bc I sped wrote this the moment I remembered it was father's day LOL!

hope you enjoyed the read ♡

edit (as of 06/23/26): i wrote the follow up to this fic called deadlock if you want to read about your uncles joining in on the fun !

[angelc3st]

why work on addressing your trauma involving your dad when you can fantasize about being railed by a fictional father instead?

[agnireed]

PAPER THIN WALLS

PAIRING ➩ jack abbot x reader

WC ➩ 19k

SUMMARY ➩ Jack Abbot is the perfect neighbor who is always willing to offer you a helping hand. Until you ask him to take your virginity.

WARNINGS ➩ age gap (reader is early 20s and jack is 50), they have sex and all the things that sex brings along, jack might be ooc

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Well for once I tried to deliver real smut for you guys so buckle up and leave me some feedback on this one if you like it! NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL and it’s probably obvious so be kind about mistakes lol I wanted to get this to you guys asap!

“I need a favor.”

Jack was used to you asking him for help, had been for the two years since you moved into the apartment directly across from his.

He didn’t mind offering you a lending hand when he saw you struggling to carry your boxes from your small run down car, it wasn’t an inconvenience to collect your mail if you ever had to leave town for a few days, and he really couldn’t complain about having to remind you to get your laundry from the unit down below because it held him accountable too.

It was such a common occurrence, you asking him for a favor, that he wasn’t too surprised to find you at his door. He only gave a soft sigh as you pushed past him to enter his apartment, offering you a lot more patience than he did the newbies at the hospital.

You were always sweet, maybe a little bossy at times, but it gave him some amusement in his otherwise strict routine.

Plus it was admittedly nice to feel needed.

You came to him when your apartment had a leak or your air conditioning went out, knocked on his door whenever it was raining and you’d forgotten an umbrella after locking yourself out, and you even sometimes popped over just to get his opinion on what you should wear out on a random night.

Everybody was always telling Jack he needed a hobby that didn’t involve putting his life on the line, so he rarely told you no and tried his best to brush off Robby whenever he asked what was keeping him so busy lately.

It would be hard enough to explain the dynamic he had with his much younger neighbor but even more so considering you were now standing in the middle of his apartment with a frustrated look on your face, hands on your hips as you tapped your bunny slipper covered foot.

“What is it now?” His voice was gruff and disinterested but you knew well enough that he would do whatever you asked and he was well aware of that too. Still, it helped him just a little to pretend to contemplate it for a second or two first.

“I need you to have sex with me.”

You said it like it was as simple as asking him to come over and check your water pressure, falling out of your mouth casually and landing heavily in the quiet room.

There was no need to pretend this time as he fell into a bewildered silence, raising an eyebrow in your direction and letting his eyes track you as you dramatically sighed and went to flop down on his couch. You’d demanded about a year ago that he got some pillows for it, along with a few other interior design suggestions.

He’d picked up four after his shift that night.

“Please say something.” You were turned around on the couch so you could face him over the back of it, arms crossed as you rested your chin ontop of them.

“I have nothing to say to that.” He shook his head immediately, that stern expression he used on an unruly patient or Robby when he got a little too pushy.

This just made you sigh again, loud and exaggerated as you turned back around to fully lay flat on his couch.

“Why are you even asking me that?” He didn’t want to pry because he knew you well enough by now to know you’d just be encouraged by that but his curiosity got the best of him, circling around to sit across from you on one of the living room chairs.

You didn’t sit up but you turned your head to the side to look at him, a slight frown on your face that he didn’t think was particularly genuine. Your personality was always something Jack admired, not getting a lot of time in his own life to be so bold with his emotions and carefree in the way he spoke and behaved.

He was serious and guarded where you were a walking billboard for spontaneity, coming to him crying about random problems after only half a week of living in the building.

It was mostly endearing but there was the more critical part of him that wondered how lonely you must be to be making friends and finding comfort with some random guy across the hallway, a much older one at that.

Jack knew he had a bit of a hero complex but it typically manifested in a more extreme way, quite literally jumping into battle to save lives or operating on them in their lowest moments. This dynamic with you was a new form of care taking and there’d been a handful of times he’d doubted his own motives.

“Because I have a date next week and I am a complete lost cause when it comes to all things intimacy.” You still had a theatrical flare to your voice, not facing him anymore and instead rambling straight up to his ceiling with your hands gesturing wildly.

He tensed up for two reasons now, one being the mention of a date and the other was your implication you didn’t have any experience.

“But you’ve had sex before.” It came out slowly and half like a question, half like an assumption.

There wasn’t any real reason for him to think that other than his own social expectations. You were gorgeous, one of the prettiest women he’d seen in a very long time, and had a naturally magnetic energy to you that even he couldn’t resist most of the time, platonically but also selfishly deep down, a little more than that.

He’d seen you go on a handful of dates in the last year or two, all guys your age that didn’t seem to know how to pick up a check let alone please you properly.

That’s where Jack’s problem stemmed from.

There had been almost no ulterior motive the first year he had known you, genuinely trying to be helpful and to be a good neighbor. He would get upset when his coworkers would call him anti social or make digs at how unfriendly he was because he hadn’t always been like that and he figured helping out the girl next door was a good first step to getting that part of himself back.

You’d told him after a few months that you had no family on this side of the country, completely starting fresh at a new company you’d applied to on a whim.

It was completely innocent.

Yes, you were undoubtedly beautiful in a way that made his head spin for a second when he first saw you. You had been standing near your car and fighting with a box, both by tugging at it and saying less than kind words in its direction like it could understand you.

Jack had hesitated for a handful of seconds before making his way over and offering to help, feeling this weird pull in his chest when you blinked up at him in surprise and eagerly thanked him.

Once you were in his life, you never left. And he made space for you effortlessly because, quite frankly, he had plenty of it to offer up.

About seven months ago was the first time he had ever seen you with a guy.

He’d been coming home from a long and rare day shift (covering for Robby so he could attend Jake’s graduation), dragging his leg behind him and praying nobody stopped him on the way to his apartment so he could crawl into bed for a few short hours before he had to do it all over again for his own shift.

The only distraction he would have allowed was you but you were clearly busy, standing in the hallway as he got off the elevator and touching the rather small bicep of a guy your age.

Jack hesitated, considered getting right back on the elevator before it could close on him, and then slowly walked to his door.

He had hoped you wouldn’t acknowledge him because his throat was already weirdly tight as he eyed you and the way you stared up at the man (boy, if Jack had to really label it) with that soft and curious expression you always had.

“Jack.” Your voice was full of excitement and he faltered, his key left in his doors lock as he turned to give you an attempt at a polite smile. “Covering somebody again?”

If this had been any other day then Jack would have invited you into his apartment to talk instead of lingering in the hallway. He would have ignored his exhaustion to pair his black coffee with the hot chocolate flavor you liked that he kept in his bottom drawer, complained to you about being tired and listened to you scold him for working too much when he didn’t need to.

But you were in a pretty dress that was clearly on its way to dinner and your date was giving Jack that possessive stare that guys fresh out of college thought was intimidating.

So instead he simply nodded his head and continued to unlock his door.

“This is Asher.” You continued abruptly as he turned his door handled, leaving it cracked as he stopped to look at you again.

He gave you a once over to make sure everything was okay, wondering why you were still insisting on talking to him when you were so clearly meant to be going somewhere else. You didn’t look too uncomfortable but you were watching him back just as intensely so he mentally stored the name and face of the guy anyways, just in case something happened.

“Ashton.” Your date finally spoke and his voice was annoyed and laced with immature bitterness, although slightly valid considering you had forgotten his name.

Your eyes widened, still boring into Jacks, and he smiled a little before giving you a small wave and heading inside.

Jack realized quickly after that encounter that his intentions were a lot less innocent than he had initially thought they were. He’d closed his door before immediately pressing his back against it, listening to the sound of your small heels leaving the hallway as you apologized to your date with a clenched jaw and a pain in his stomach.

The next few dates after that just confirmed what he had already realized from the first one.

He was attracted to you.

Maybe even liked you.

You talked to Jack about almost everything going on in your life, even things he definitely would not have cared about if it came from anybody else, but you never once brought up the dates. At first he had worried you had somehow noticed his weird demeanor that day in the hallway but Jack wasn’t very expressive in general so he figured you must keep that part of your life private for other reasons.

The attraction part was easy to accept mostly, he was only a man and you were clearly gorgeous. Although the age gap was something Jack couldn’t get himself to look past.

You were barely in your early twenties, over half his age younger and overly obviously so. You radiated youth, from your appearance and the way you spoke down to your hobbies and interests.

You were clearly a very young girl and he had felt like a pervert from the moment he saw you outside of that car for the way his body warmed. Jack hadn’t felt much attraction to anybody at all since his wife died, at first out of a lingering loyalty to her that barely faded and then just due to his busyness and his own mental blocks.

That was not a problem when it came to you and he had to give a genuine effort when he was around you to act normal.

You’d come over in tiny sleep shorts or a tight tank top that showed your hardened nipples through the thin fabric, join him for morning yoga in downright sinful leggings and he even was attracted to the stupid bunny slippers you wore.

But you were a young girl and he was a disciplined old man so he barely looked twice in your direction when you were bending over to get mail and he never once touched you, setting boundaries for himself and keeping them.

Which was why it was so hard for him when you slowly shook your head to his question about having sex before.

“What about those guys?” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you and you sighed like you were embarrassed, a rare emotion to see from you.

“We barely kissed.” You shrugged and finally sat up from your dramatic position on the couch. “Please Jack, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” He said immediately, slightly offended you were seemingly only asking him because you had no other options.

You looked completely dejected now but Jack knew there was no way he could possibly accept this request, for too many reasons but especially because of his own moral code. He also didn’t want to ruin what you’d had going on, enjoying your company on his hard nights and finding himself finally letting somebody in after so many years alone.

“Okay so no sex.” You say softly and you stand up when he does, following him as he walks into the kitchen and leaning against the counter to watch him set the coffee machine settings. “But can’t you show me little things.”

He sends you a sharp look that you return with a gentle pleading smile, bouncing in place a little like you think your cuteness is the answer to everything.

And it just might be because Jack sighs softly and turns his full attention back to you.

“Like what?” He knows him asking for specifics will give you hope and he can see it immediately on your face, brightening and taking a step closer to him that makes him tense.

“Maybe just telling me what guys like?” You suggest softly and the words coming from your mouth make him almost groan, keeping his face flat and emotionless as you speak. “And some kissing lessons.”

“You know how to kiss.” He shook his head at you and went to turn back to his coffee but your hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him, successfully keeping his attention on you. He realized that it might be the first time you’d ever actually touched him, skin against skin. “I’ve seen it.”

His posture tightens as he reminds himself of that fact, easily recalling the vivid memory of leaving his apartment to head to work and finding you coming home from a date and making out with a guy against your door.

You hadn’t noticed him at first but he had slammed his door harder than normal, shamefully intentional.

There’d been a pang of guilt when you jumped in surprise and separated from the guy who looked the douchiest out of all of them but it was hard to feel it when you have him a slightly grateful look on his way to the elevator.

You were blinking at him now, almost like you were realizing something, and he looked away in favor of glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Not a kiss that feels good.” Your voice was more serious now, sounding genuinely disheartened by the conversation and the slow unveiling of your inexperience.

He sighed again, just trying to get rid of the tightness in his chest, before shaking his head firmly and fully turning away from you to fill up his coffee mug.

“I’m not doing it.”

—

Jack thought about your offer for the next two weeks. Obsessively.

He waited to hear you bringing somebody else over, someone who had jumped on the golden opportunity to touch you for the first time when he hesitated. You didn’t seem to go on any dates but he supposed you wouldn’t have told him anyways.

The thought of you experiencing sex with some asshole you met off a dating app, nervous and unsure on what to do without guidance, was eating away at him.

Jack was a fixer, he liked to help you, and he had already accepted the fact that he was extremely attracted to you. It wasn’t like he didn’t recognize the jealously in his stomach everytime he saw you with somebody else, a type of anger he hadn’t felt since he was preparing to go into a real life war.

Subdued by age and a calmer reality now but it was still fresh hot anger that he couldn’t shake no matter how much he tried.

You came to him with this problem, not just for pointers and tips but you had actually asked him to be the one to take your virginity.

Virginity.

Jack couldn’t get the concept out of his head and while he hadn’t necessarily considered himself somebody who would care about that type of thing, especially not as he entered his fifties, it did bring a wave of heat over him whenever he thought about it.

You’d never been touched before outside of a few unsatisfactory make out sessions. You, the pretty girl with downright sinful choices of pajamas that consumed his day to day life so easily after he spent such a long time alone.

He thought about it endlessly until it led to him knocking on your door, a rare switch of the usual dynamic that left him feeling a little awkward before you answered.

The sensation went away when you looked up at him, eyes a little wide with confusion as you silently stepped back to let him inside. It was rare for you to be so quiet but maybe you could tell what he was thinking by the look on his face, maybe you were thinking about the same exact thing.

“I’ll help you.” His voice was gruff and flat, waiting until your door closed behind him before he spoke. Your face immediately lit up but he silenced anything you were going to say with a raised hand, your parted lips closing as you waited for him to finish. “But I’m not sleeping with you.”

You pouted a little at the condition but stepped forward after a few seconds, far too close to him for his sanity but he figured you’d be getting a lot closer soon so he forced his breathing to stay level.

Jack used to consider himself quite smooth, still a natural flirt when he joked around with older patients or teased Robby.

But he was completely thrown off of any existing game when it came to you. He didn’t even know he could still feel this way about somebody, the yearning and lustful feeling having been dormant for a long time before you moved in.

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” Your voice was soft now and he’d never heard you like that, maybe a bit of a whine when you impatiently asked him to help you with something, but never so pleading.

You’d shifted even closer as you spoke and he couldn’t help himself now that he practically had permission, his large and rough hand sliding over your waist to rest on the small of your back.

You sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling and he was suddenly aware of how much fun this was going to be if you were that sensitive.

“Not tonight okay?” He replied and his low tone made your eyes soften, nodding eagerly and hesitantly letting your hands land on his chest in balled up fist. “We can talk about it more later and work out some conditions.”

“You’re giving me rules?” You’d collected yourself enough to finally give him some of that familiar attitude, smiling slightly as you stared up at him. He rolled his eyes but let his hand tighten against your back, moving you forward and just trying to test your reaction to the touch.

You lost your smile immediately, shuffling closer until you were pressed against him as your eyes darted all around his face with surprise. It was clear you didn’t expect him to accept at all let alone this easily, despite his two weeks of contemplation, he wasn’t at all hesitate now.

“You need them.” He retorted and his free hand brushed some of your hair behind your ear, the first time you were ever really touching each other being this intimate was sending another wave of affection through him.

A few years ago, Jack couldn’t even get himself to look at another woman, let alone hold one so gently. Even with the slightly out of the ordinary circumstances, he cared for you and you trusted him and that was all that really mattered in his eyes.

“You’re mean.” You’re whispering it and his head tilts at the sound it, overly fond and curious how you can affect him so much just by changing the tone of your voice. “Kiss me atleast.”

It comes out a demand and his eyebrows naturally furrow at the sound of it, knowing immediately that will have to be one of the rules he gives you when you talk them over.

Manners.

He doesn’t respond for a second but you seem to understand before he even needs to scold you, lips parting in realization before they form a small pout and you unclench your fist so your palm is flat on his chest now instead.

“Please give me a kiss Jack.” You sound sweeter now and he would think it was an act, making fun of him for his sudden silent sternness, if it wasn’t for the genuinely pleading look on your face.

The knowledge that you listen so easily, even when he doesn’t actually say it, overrides his senses so much that he actually does bend down to kiss you.

It’s soft at first which you don’t seem to understand, immediately trying to eagerly make out with him like that’s all you really know. He moves one of his hands from your side to hold under your jaw, applying a little bit of pressure near your throat to indicate he wants you to slow down.

You melt against him at the touch but do as he silently communicates and relax a little bit, still moving your mouth a bit sloppily against his but learning to adapt to his slow and easy pace.

Eventually you get the rhythm down perfectly, lips moving together without anything extra added. You asked Jack to teach you so he was going to do exactly that, starting from the basics.

Your face was completely dazed when he pulled back, instinctively shifting forward to try and kiss him again and making a small disappointment noise when his hold near your throat tightened in warning.

“You asked for a kiss.” He said in a low voice, still close to your face so he could perfectly see the way your widened eyes shifted around his features.

He was a bit mesmerized by the way you looked now, so unlike yourself on any other day. It both made his guilt over being perverse grow and also solidified that he didn’t care how wrong it was as long as you kept looking at him like that.

“Get some sleep.” He waited a few seconds before taking the necessary steps away from you, taking a sharp breath as he turned and left your apartment.

His own door had barely closed behind him before there was insistent knocks on it, his head immediately hanging since he knew exactly who it was.

Your eyebrows were furrowed when he pulled the handle to reveal you in the hallway, standing stiffly and glaring up at him but not making any move to come inside. You shifted in place and let out a huff of annoyance as you seemed to search for the right words to convey what you wanted.

“Can you kiss me one more time?” You eventually settled on the blunt question, shifting closer so you were both halfway in his doorway.

While he had a foot inside his apartment still, you had one in the hallway. It left you standing too close for his sanity, feeling it slip almost entirely again when your small hand landed on his forearm and rubbed softly.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, sensing your frustration but not knowing where it was stemming from.

He cupped your face with one of his hands, letting the other rest back on your side. You stared up at him as he took a few slow steps forward, backing you up with each one until your back hit the doorframe and took a soft near gasp from your lips.

“Nothing I just…” You trail off as you pout, scanning over his face and then down his chest until you can’t bend your head anymore to look. “I want one more. Please.”

You added it as an afterthought but it was enough for him, pressing his mouth back against yours.

This time, apparently a very quick learner, you were able to meet his pace right away and your mouths moved softly together. Your arms went around his neck so you could fully cling to him as you kissed deeply, heads tilting and quiet pleased noises rumbling in your throat.

You only got louder when his tongue pressed lightly into your mouth, mostly just to test your reaction but unable to stop himself when you were eagerly matching the actions.

It was sloppy and a little too wet, sounds of your tongues tangling together filling the silent hallway and sending a sharp heat down to his gut. He liked how clumsy you were, growing addicted to the way you seemed to have no idea what you were doing but too desperate to stop yourself and ask him for his help.

Jack knew he liked feeling needed but this was a whole different beast, one that came paired with some light shame.

You weren’t innocent and you knew exactly what you needed to about sex but your body was inexperienced and it was getting clearer by the second, your little gasp when he kissed you deeper and the way you tightened your hold on him everytime he went to pull back and attempt to slow down.

You’re red in the face by the time he manages to get you to stop eagerly kissing him, still instinctively shifting closer when he moves back. He gives you a lighthearted sigh, occupied by the softest smile he can manage so he doesn’t actually hurt your feelings when he presses you back against the doorway with the hand that’s still on your hip.

“Time for bed.” He tries to keep his tone light but it comes out more authoritative than he had meant for it to, most likely driven by the way you automatically started to frown as soon as he held you away from him. “We can talk tomorrow.”

You clearly weren’t happy about that but you surprisingly gave him a soft nod, shifting your body until you were out of his entrance and closer to your own.

He watched you and your dazed face, slightly wobbly on your feet, as you disappeared behind your apartment door with a small wave.

-

Jack had started off his day rough the following morning, barely able to sleep after what had happened.

It was a completely split mixture of wanting you so bad it was driving him to literal insanity and feeling disgustingly guilty for even looking in your direction.

He almost considered calling Robby about it but he really didn’t need to hear the lecture that would undoubtedly come his way about the situation. Plus he figured that whatever Robby knew, Dana knew, and if Dana knew then it was only a matter of time before the entire emergency department was gossiping about Jack Abbot and his young neighbor.

The dilemma was so strong that he had almost completely forgotten about the fact he had told you that you’d talk today, although almost intentional.

He was halfway avoiding having to actually sit down and make this arrangement a reality, still having a hard time believing what had happened last night was even real.

He had just started to get changed for work when the knocking on his door started and he knew it was you immediately, standing still and hanging his head for a few seconds like he figured he could just wait you out.

It didn’t take long for his senses to kick back in and he was pulling on a plain black shirt before making his way over to the door, raising his eyebrows at you when he saw how irritated you looked.

You brushed past him immediately and he lingered with his hand on the door knob for a moment before closing it and preparing himself to face whatever wrath you were about to send his direction.

“You didn’t come over.” You immediately accused, finger pointing in his direction as you stood in the middle of his living room with an angry expression. “You didn’t even text me.”

He was already walking closer to you as you spoke and your defenses naturally crumbled at the proximity, especially when his hands were sliding over your ribs to both hold you steady and let him feel your breathing as subtly as possible.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then ignore me.” You continue on but your tone is a lot softer now that he’s touching you, already getting that dazed edge to it he had heard last night.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you.” He shakes his head and frees a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, your features have completely softened now at the movement.

Jack wonders for the first time if you might have feelings for him beyond trust and attraction.

For some reason, he hadn’t really considered the possibility before. You were practically his polar opposite and he had nothing in common with any of the boys you went on dates with.

But now, with you blinking up at him like you were hanging on to his every word, he let himself think it might just be likely.

“I figured you changed your mind.” Your words are a little slurred from the insistent pout you have on your face and he sighs again, gently leading you over to sit on his couch.

Your knees brush together as you scoot closer to him the second he’s settled on top of the cushion, your hand wrapping around three of his fingers and squeezing lightly as you wait for him to respond to your fear of being rejected.

“I didn’t but I want to make sure you understand what you’re asking.” His voice is low and nearing stern, the same tone he uses on the new med students who seem a little more cocky than they are willing to learn. He knows that’s not the case with you, knows you’re desperate for any expertise he can offer you, but he still wants you to pay attention and properly understand him. “There’s other ways for you to do this.”

“What, like other guys?” Your eyebrows furrow like the thought confuses you.

His stomach tightens immediately, sick at the thought of it, but he stiffly nods his head.

You’re shifting even closer immediately and he lets out a breath when you’re leaning over his knee nearly, closer to his face than before and scanning over it again.

“I don’t want another guy Jack. I just want it to be you.” You’re whispering now and he can’t stop himself from pressing a light kiss to your mouth, brief but necessary when his brain processes the lack of distance between you. That makes you smile finally and he suddenly feels very stupid for ever questioning you when you’re making a request like this.

“Tell me why.” He mumbles, easily sliding his hands around your middle so he can tug you over more and into his lap. You kiss him again once you’re settled in his lap, still quick like you’re both using it as punctuation during your conversation. “Why me?”

He wants to hear you give a legitimate reason, to undo the hesitance you gave him when you said it was only because you didn’t have anybody else to ask. That’d been weighing on him more than anything else, the thought that you had just settled for your older lonely neighbor who was clearly willing to help you with anything in spite of himself.

Your next kiss was much longer, deeper as you fully sink down in his lap and move your mouth against his desperately. He’d accept that alone as an answer, big palms rubbing over your back and sides so he can keep pulling you impossibly closer.

Your nose is rubbing against his when you pull back, the sounds of your breathing being heavier now making his head spin with the necessary impulsivity to keep making terrible decisions with you.

“You’d make me feel good.” The answer you’d landed on was much more devastating than he was prepared for, his eyes darkening at how confident you sounded in that fact. “I know you would.”

His hands tightened around your soft skin for a second, needing to take a deep breath to ground himself.

It takes a second for him to reply, tucking his face into your neck and inhaling sharply. You smell as sweet as you always do but it’s intoxicating to have it this close after so long, skin soft under his lips as he kisses you softly.

Your breathing gets shaky, arms looping around his neck so you’re practically hugging him. You’re warm on top of him and making the sweetest noises when he moves along your jaw, shifting in his lap to try and get his attention back on your conversation.

“You’ll do it right?” You ask softly, running your hand through his hair and tugging just enough to make him finally look back at your face. His eyes are dark and unfocused as he stares at your pretty features. “Jack?”

“Yeah honey.” He says back after another long silence, voice deeper than he’d ever heard it as he leans in to kiss you again.

You kiss for a long time, wiggling around in his lap when your tongues tangle together and you get to taste him properly again. It’s addicting for both of you, both of your hands running all over the other’s body like you’re trying to learn every part of it you can reach.

Eventually you’re fully rocking against him from your neediness and it takes a second for him to process it, snapped back to focus when he hears the way your whines are getting higher pitched. A near growl leaves his throat as he grabs your hips firmly, thumbs pressing into the bone so he can stop you from moving on top of him like that.

“Jackie.” You whine desperately, kissing him again and successfully distracting him long enough that you can start humping again.

“Stop baby I have work soon.” He scolds in between the sloppy kisses, lips and chin slightly wet from how uncoordinated you still are.

You make another soft noise and he’s confused for half a second before he realizes it’s because of the pet name, smiling softly from his fondness for you as you hide down in his neck for a second.

“You’re hard now, I can feel it.” You’re whispering right against his skin and a shiver runs over him at the lewd words falling from such a pretty mouth, high pitched and almost innocent voice making the sentence sound so much dirtier than it needed to be.

At first Jack doesn’t think you’re right, knowing himself and his body enough to expect he’s not stirring down there even if he wants you so bad it makes him feel insane.

He’s had issues with it for years now, a deadly combination of his age, his traumas, and the carousel of medications he has to be on for a variety of things he wouldn’t disclose to you out of his own pride. That was the reason Jack had stopped trying to hook up with people years ago, giving up on porn entirely when he’d have to spend an hour trying to get hard before he could even attempt to actually get himself off.

It was in the back of his mind when you’d asked him to help you with this but he figured this was about your pleasure, he wouldn’t need to be hard to get you off especially if he stuck to his guns about not actually having sex with you.

He was sucking in a deep breath to explain this to you in less detail, make sure you understood that he wasn’t hard but it had nothing to do with you or his attraction to you, when you gave a particularly deep and slow roll of your hips.

And the effect was completely undeniable.

A shudder ran over him, eyes dropping to his lap that you were still rocking on top of. Your tiny little shorts were so clearly pressing against the tent in his scrub pants, catching on it whenever you lost the energy to move properly as you let out another needy whine and hid back in his neck.

You were completely unaware of his current mental situation, baffled at how easily you’d gotten him to this state from just some sloppy kissing.

You must’ve thought he was ignoring you because you picked up your head to glare at him, a pout on your swollen lips.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He sighed and kissed you gently, rubbing your sides up to your ribs and coming back down right when he felt the swell of your breast against his fingertips. “I really have to go.”

“Let me suck you off.” You requested easily and his breath caught, nearly choking at how simple you made it sound. “I wanna learn and you’re so hard right now Jackie. Please let me do it.”

“That’s not the point of this.” He shook his head immediately and moved you by your hips so you were sat next to him and no longer settled in his lap, clearly upsetting you as you scrambled up on your knees and gripped his bicep so he couldn’t get off the couch yet.

“The point is to teach me things about sex and I’ll need to know this.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at why he’s rejecting you.

He finds it a little amusing that you’re so used to him accepting your requests for things that you’re genuinely lost when he doesn’t immediately fold for you. It’s a bratty habit he should have corrected months ago but he can’t find himself caring too much, liking how dependent you’d become on him.

Jack has to contemplate this because he knows you’re right, stomach turning a little at the reminder that you’re going to use whatever he shows you on somebody else down the line.

That selfishly makes him want to cancel this whole thing and leave you completely clueless, hopefully to the point you decide to swear off sex with other men entirely. But he knows how stubborn you are and how stuck you get on something once it catches your attention, figuring you’d get on a dating app and find some idiot in finance to take your virginity as soon as he put an end to this arrangement.

So he lets you slip to your knees off the couch, taking his hesitance to decline again as a positive sign.

“Wait.” He interjects and you freeze, sighing in annoyance as you prepare for him to give another reason you can’t do it. Instead he pulls one of the pillows off the couch and slides in near his feet, your eyes softening as you shift so you’re kneeling on the plush cushion instead of the floor.

“How do I start?” You ask softly, eyeing the bunched up fabric in front of you with interest. He has to stare at the ceiling for a second, slightly losing it at the sight of you kneeling on his floor between his legs. “Do I have to get you ready?”

“No.” He says it gruffly and you tense again, his tone way sharper than he’d meant for it to be. “It’s… I’m ready baby trust me. Just give me a second.”

That calms you down immediately, enough that you rest your head on his knee as you try your best to be patient. His eyes go back to you at the touch and he watches the way you squirm against the pillow, clearly still riled up from the kissing and maybe even the thought of taking him in your mouth.

“Has it been awhile Jack?” Your voice is ridiculous now, clearly teasing him and developing this soft purr that almost irritates him.

His hand goes into your hair at the sound of it, tightening enough that you lift your cheek off his knee and stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Watch it.” He says lowly, using his free hand to untie his scrub pants as you eye the movement with fascination. Your lips part as you stare at his hand and the way his fingers twist the strings, he has half the thought to make you choke on the digits before you try and take anything bigger but your attitude has left him feeling just as impatient. “We’ve got to work on your manners if you want me to teach you.”

That makes you snap back into focus, frowning at his words and shaking your head as you straighten up on your knees.

“I have manners Jack.” You’re clearly trying to convince him, small hands smoothing over his thighs.

He starts to deny it but he’s cut off when you lean forward to nuzzle against him, face pressing right where he’s currently aching under two layers of fabric. His breath catches in his throat and he instinctively tightens the hand that’s in your hair, mumbling out an apology when you make a pained noise but barely loosening it after.

He feels like he needs to keep it there to have any sort of control in this situation, especially given the way you’re almost desperately rubbing your face on his lap.

“Should’ve told me you were this needy.” He half scolds as he shifts his waistband down lower, waiting for you to notice and pick yourself up just long enough to get his pants down.

You don’t give him long at all before you’re back to obsessing over the sight in front of you, eyes fully dazed now that it’s just his boxers separating you from putting your mouth on his hard length.

You’re clearly trying to be patient in an attempt to prove you have any sort of manners, a little pride rippling through him similar to the feeling he got when you had corrected yourself the other night to politely ask him for a kiss.

“You wouldn’t have done anything about it.” You say softly, not accusatory but confident in it like you know it’s true. You lean forward and kiss against the covered bulge, a groan leaving him. “You’re too good of a guy.”

“Clearly not.” He rasped just as you start to lose that faux patience you’re trying so hard to pretend you have, tugging at the waistband of his underwear and smiling softly when he lifts his hips off the couch without arguing. “And you know I never tell you no sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” You’re still trying to talk to him but now you’re completely lost in the sight of him half naked and sitting there with his legs spread in front of you, too desperate to even be intimidated by the size of him. “You would’ve let me do this months ago Jackie?”

He sighs and tightens his hold in your hair again, bringing you forward until he can feel your breath where he’s most sensitive.

Your eyes flicker up to him and the sight is devastating for how deprived he’s been, a pretty young girl like you sitting so nicely on your knees for the first time ever. He can barely even feel that guilt and slightly sick sensation, knowing how perverted it is that he could probably get off just looking at your face and thinking about the way he’s about to corrupt you.

“Stop talking.” He instructs gruffly and you nod eagerly, eyes back on his length and only now looking a little nervous as you swallow before your lips part in anticipation. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Want it so bad.” You don’t hesitate to answer and your voice is a little whinier, swaying forward like you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

Jack lets you move until you’re right there, eyes locked on your face as you give him a nervous look and try to take him in your mouth.

It’s awkward and you’re tense, expression full of hesitation like you’re waiting for him to tell you how to do it properly but he lets himself bask in this for a few seconds.

He knows it’s sick but he finds you the most beautiful like this, confused and desperate to please him without knowing how to. You go between sucking and licking at the tip of his length and while it feels good, no doubt about that especially after how long it’s been, it’s nothing compared to how clearly inexperienced you are.

Finally, he snaps out of his sick fantasies of watching you embarrass yourself trying to please him, and he decides to actually do what you’d asked and teach you something.

“Relax your jaw baby. Just take what you can okay?” His voice is low and gentle, hand loose in your hair but clenching into a tight fist whenever you brush against his sensitive skin with your teeth on accident or try to overachieve and take him deeper.

You do seem to calm down a little now that he’s finally speaking, shoulders slumping and your eyes fluttering shut as you get used to the feeling of him on your tongue.

You’ve barely taken him at all but he’s transfixed by the sight, perfectly content to sit here and cock warm your mouth until you were ready to move him down your throat.

He watches you closely as you pull back to take a few deep breaths, pouting a little at his length and hesitating before you’re touching him with your hand. It’s all experimental, tugging and feeling the skin against your palm while he grunts above you and tries to control himself.

It’s barely sexual on your end considering how fascinated you are by the new experience but he’s halfway losing his mind knowing this is the first time you’re touching somebody like this.

“I gotta go soon sweetheart.” He says and your eyes finally snap back up to him, turning a little red considering you’d been caught just staring at his length as you touched him. “You can play with me all you want after my shift.”

Now you’re full on blushing but you nod your head obediently and lean back in to take him in your mouth again, a little more confident now as you lick around the head and repeat movements whenever it draws a sound out from him.

Jack can barely stand it and he has to put both hands in your hair to keep himself from fucking up into your warm mouth, groaning from the effort it’s taking and considering telling you to get back on the couch before he goes too far with you too early.

You’re clearly just as impatient because you try to take more of him finally and immediately gag at the sensation, pulling back and frowning up at him.

“Help Jackie.” Your voice is whiny and has a little rasp to it now and he kisses his teeth at the sound, petting your hair back out of your face.

“I can’t help with that baby, you’ve just got to practice.” He tries his best to soothe you but you’re clearly frustrated.

“Can’t you just force my head down?” You’re rubbing his thighs as you speak in that ridiculously bratty voice, wiggling around on the pillow like the thought alone is exciting you.

He wants to say no, wants to tell you why it’s such a terrible idea for him to forcefully fuck your throat right before he has to go to work. There’s a million reasons he should be rejecting you right now but that sick voice in the back of his head is struggling to get the words out, especially when you go back to softly kitten licking at his length to keep him hard.

“Fuck you’re nasty.” He gruffs out and your eyes light up at the words, nodding your head and taking him back in your mouth as you keep trying your best to fit him deeper. “You want me in your throat that bad?”

You can’t talk now but your desires are obvious.

He eyes the way you’re shifting on the cushion below you, adjusting his foot the best he can so it’s between your thighs as you kneel. That seems to make you even more desperate, rubbing against him almost feverishly now as you try to focus on having him in your mouth.

There’s no option to do so when he brings his hands back to your hair, silently showing you he accepts your request when he moves his hips off the couch and keeps your face firmly in place so he can push deeper down your throat.

He feels you gag slightly around him but your eyes roll to the back of your head at the same time and you hump against his foot even faster so he can’t find it in himself to stop, thrusting slowly to make sure you don’t end up getting sick or feeling too sore by the time he’s finished.

Jack knows this is far beyond teaching, he’s not even speaking anymore and instead just using your throat to get himself off but you’re even more eager for it than him and he’d never deny you anything you asked for.

“This tiny little throat.” His voice is nearing a growl as he helps move your head up and down his length, reveling in the way you gag and drool around him. “You’re doing so good baby.”

The praise seems to do it for you more than anything else, rubbing your core against his foot so eagerly that you can barely focus on sucking him off. You’re getting too messy to control yourself, mouth slipping off every few thrust before you whine at the loss and immediately take him back in your throat.

Jack takes pity on both of you, both for his own sanity and because he can’t stop thinking about the fact he’ll need to leave as soon as this is done.

You’re clearly upset when he pulls you off, making a loud noise of disagreement that barely sounds like an actual word and frowning at him when he sends you a stern look and wraps his hand around himself instead.

You seem to forget your anger pretty quickly as you watch him touch himself, hips slowed down to a slow rock against his foot as you stare at his length and the way he’s making himself feel good above you.

Jack has to look away when he comes because he feels pretty close to forcing your head back down and making you swallow it, although half positive you’d actually enjoy that more than him judging by how eager you are to try things.

You’re laying your head back on his thigh while he grunts and curses, tightening his fist and going back to staring at your face just for a brief moment so he has a clearer picture to think about.

It’s quiet in the living room afterwards and he feels an odd sense of embarrassment, a rare vulnerability considering you’re still fully clothed and kneeling on the floor. He fixes one of those problems by effortlessly pulling you up by your arms, settling you back against the cushions.

He stands and pulls his pants up while he does so, knowing he’ll have to shower off before he can go to work and get a new pair of scrubs anyways.

There’s a second of hesitation before he goes to get you some water, leaning over your dazed frame and kissing you softly.

“Was it good?” You ask quietly against his mouth, hand tangling in his hair like you don’t want him to go anywhere without answering you first. “You stopped me.”

“You were perfect.” He answers simply and he means it, would probably feel the same if you had accidentally bit him though.

“I wanted to taste you.” You’re pouting again and every time he thinks he gets used to you, you prove him beyond wrong. He sighs and leans further against you on the couch so you’re fully sinking into the cushion below you.

“Next time.”

It comes out before he can stop it and he fully plans to backtrack but your eyes light up at the idea of him letting you do that again so he doesn’t, letting it linger for a few seconds.

“Not when I have to leave you right after. You won’t like it and I don’t want to hurt you.” He’s talking in the stern and no nonsense way he does at work, trying to make sure you understand even though you’re slowly starting to smile as he speaks and he realizes you’re probably not paying any attention.

“You won’t hurt me Jack.” You whisper and it’s so sweet he almost considers calling in so he can stay with you a little longer. “Not in a way I won’t like.”

That makes him scoff out a laugh, a rare sound from him and you look even more pleased at the noise.

“You don’t even know what you like sweetheart.” He says softly and brushes your hair out of your face, letting both his fingertips and eyes trail down your neck until he reaches your collarbones. “But I’ll show you.”

“You’ll show me?” You’re teasing him now, biting your bottom lip to try and hide your smile to no avail.

“Yeah I will.” He smiles too and kisses you again, a little too soft considering what you actually are to each other.

He eventually manages to get off of you long enough to get you some water, watching carefully as you take a few sips and rubbing your knee when you wince at first. He wants to feel guilty for making your throat sore but he can’t, sick enough to admit he just feels the urge to make you take him deeper next time to see if you’ll really let him.

You’re still laying on his couch when he gets out of his brief shower, having changed his pants and taken a few deep breaths while staring in the mirror to try and get ahold of himself. He needs to switch back to reality for atleast a few hours, become the weathered doctor who doesn’t lose his mind over a pretty girl asking for favors.

You set your phone down on your chest, giving him your full attention as he moves towards the door to tug his shoes on.

There’s no indication you plan to leave before he does but he can’t find it in himself to mind the intrusion, going back over to the couch to give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Staying here?” He says in a low voice and you nod eagerly, eyes locked on his.

He lets himself think about his entire way to work, the image of you being there when he gets home from a hard shift. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to and having you across the hall was already a gift within itself.

Now you’d crossed a line and if he let himself forget the terms and conditions, the fact you were loosely using him just to end up with somebody else as the actual end goal, then he could pretend for a moment that you were the person he got to crawl into bed with when work was tough.

Despite how much he thought about you during his shift, every moment he wasn’t being bombarded with questions or saving somebody’s life on autopilot, you weren’t actually there when he came back.

He knew it before he even opened the door, confirmed by how neatly the pillows on the couch were placed again and the fact your glass of water was rinsed and put away in the dishwasher.

You’d made it look like you were never even there and he knew you still enjoyed his company, maybe enjoyed the newly added sexual dynamic even more, but that didn’t mean you wanted to comfort him after he lost a patient or help soothe him when his leg was bothering him from standing all day.

Jack had to remind himself of the part he was playing in your life currently and try his best to not be disappointed.

It’s two days until he sees you again and he thinks it’s one of the longest spans you’ve gone without talking in almost a year.

He’s just about to start really acting out of character by banging at your front door and asking if you’re avoiding him when he runs into you downstairs, freezing as soon as he enters the lowly lit laundry room to find you leaning against one of the washers and looking extremely bored.

You’re as beautiful as always, casually dressed in nothing but an old band shirt that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of shorts so small he’s pretty sure it’s just boxy underwear.

You don’t look up when he comes in until his leg slightly catches on the step, accustomed enough to the sound of the light dragging he sometimes can’t stop from happening when he’s extra tired.

It’s a relief to find that you don’t have any awkwardness on your face, no sign of being uncomfortable or upset with him.

Then he figures that might just be worse.

He would just about die if he had done anything that made you want to avoid him but the alternative seems to be that you just didn’t want to speak to him and that makes his chest sting.

There’s nothing but silence and the rattling of the old washer as it rocks back and forth on the cement floor, both of you seemingly having decided to not speak to each other first.

(sorry for the brief awkward spacing tumblr says this is too long)

It’s another five minutes of the now awkward stretch of quiet before you clear your throat, turning to face him where he’s fidgeting with his laundry baskets broken handle just to have something to focus on.

“So I went on a date last night.” You say softly, eyebrows raised like you’re genuinely interested in his reaction.

His stomach turns but it’s a relief to have you looking at him again so he takes it, swallowing hard and racking his brain for a response that’s appropriate.

“How’d it go?” He’s asking out of politeness but he’s silently praying you suddenly decide you don’t want to tell him about it. It wouldn’t even make him feel better to hear it had ended terribly, not wanting you to feel any type of negative emotions even if it technically was in his benefit.

He definitely can’t take any sort of mention of you being with another guy physically. He knows it’s coming eventually, it’s the sole purpose behind why he even gets to touch you, but he’s not ready just yet.

You’re quiet again and he really looks at you now, takes in the silent contemplation on your face and the way you tap your fingers on the metal of the washer for a second before pushing off of it entirely.

Then you’re in his space again and it’s like an instinctive move to cup your face, hand on your waist so he can lightly push you back against the machine he’d been in front of. You touch his chest, lightly rubbing in soft circles, and he wants to sigh in relief if that wouldn’t be so painfully obvious.

“Wasn’t a great time.” You whisper and your eyes are on his lips as you speak.

His eyebrows raise and his hand on your body tightens slightly at the same time he uses his thumb to press under your chin and make you tilt your jaw back.

“Why not?” He hates the thought of getting details but he needs to know some idiot from a dating app hadn’t done anything to hurt you.

You don’t answer right away, just standing there and letting your eyes scan over his features on rotation. You finally let out a small breath like you’re about to speak but it never comes, small hands moving to grip his biceps.

“Did he touch you?” He can’t stop himself from asking even though the question makes his voice come out low enough that your eyes flash with surprise for a second, snapping away from his mouth to meet his stare again like you’re looking for something in it.

You shake your head immediately, squeezing his arms and shifting against the vibrating machine.

He’s kissing you then and he tells himself it’s out of relief, the knowledge that you’re still untouched by anybody except for him instantly making this conversation easier.

You’re returning it right away and he’s pleasantly surprised by how quickly you caught on to the type of kissing he likes, his personal preference. He figures he should eventually tell you that not ever guy was going to like your constant licking into his mouth but for now he lets it be, wants you to be trying to please him specifically and not whoever you’d use these lessons with.

It’s ridiculously cute how desperate you get, only needing a few seconds of your tongue inside his mouth before you’re arching off the machine and making soft noises against his lips.

His hands are all over you as soon as he notices the state of you, sliding down to cup your ass with both palms and tug you tighter to his frame.

That makes you out rightly whimper, clumsily trying to hitch a leg around his waist and sighing in relief when he holds your thigh to keep it there. The wet sounds of your mouths fill the small room, body slightly shaking both from need and from the way the washer is vibrating against your back.

“Missed you.” You whimper it out when he pulls back to let you breathe, kissing down your jaw and tightening his grip on the soft curve hidden under your underwear. “Didn’t call me.”

“Were you waiting for me to call baby?” He asks softly, despite how much it had been bothering him, he would never want to make you feel guilty for not reaching out to him after what you’d done.

You don’t answer so he pulls his head out of your neck to look at your face, seeing the soft frown and the hesitation in your eyes.

“Hey.” He breaths out and pushes your hair back to get your attention fully on him, your body softening and completely leaning against his to the point you’d definitely fall if he took a step backwards. “I wanted to give you space. Let you decide when you wanted to continue this, if you did.”

“I don’t want space.” You counter and it’s a little past bratty but he’s so beyond fond of you that he can’t help but let the corners of his mouth turn up at the sound of it. “You’re supposed to take care of me.”

He’s not sure when your dynamic became this way but he feels it as much as you apparently do, knows it’s his duty to make sure you’re always fine and not needing anything he can’t fix. Now there’s the added element of making you feel good, touching you in ways you’re not used to and showing you what pleasure can be like, and he’s not taking it lightly.

“Then I’ll call.” He say softly and your eyes lock on his as you nod in agreement, his hand cupping your cheek so he can keep you still enough to kiss you briefly. “You want me to chase you and I’ll chase you.”

“Right now I just want you to kiss me.” You whisper and he doesn’t need to hear anything else.

You’re back to kissing and it’s feverish now, more tongue than anything and your hands groping each other anywhere you can touch.

He’s lifting you up off the ground just so he can press himself between your legs and swallow the soft needy noises you let out at the feeling, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist so he can’t pull away at all. You’re pressed back against the metal with his hands under your shirt and wrapped around your frame to make sure you don’t fall, thick fingers splayed out against your ribs.

It’s getting hotter in the room and it’s mostly due to the way you’re whining and trying to roll your hips into him, unsuccessful considering how hard he’s got you pinned back to the washer.

“Jack please.” You pant and pull away from his mouth, tucking into his neck and rubbing your soft cheek against his stubble like a needy cat. “Please touch me. Do anything.”

He’s grunting at the request and gently setting you back down on your feet so he can free up a hand, using it to push your shirt up to your neck. He’s not too surprised to find that you’re not wearing anything underneath and your surprised gasp swallows the sound of his low groan.

You’re whining lewdly when he leans down to press kisses against your skin, middle of your breast first to avoid putting his mouth where you really want it. You’re panting, chest rising and falling under his mouth, and tangling a hand in his ash colored curls to try and steer him where you need him.

He wants to smack your hand away and warn you to be patient but he wants you too bad to try and discipline you right now, letting his mouth latch onto to one of your hard nipples so he can hear whatever noise that brings out of you.

It’s loud and intoxicating, his head spinning a little as he keeps sucking and licking your skin, letting your shirt rest on the top of his head so he can use his other hand to roughly grope your other breast and make sure you’re getting equal attention.

“Oh fuck Jack.” You’re whimpering and trying to hump against nothing, back arching as you whine and hold him to your body like he has any plans of getting away from you. “T-that feels so good.”

“Come upstairs.” His voice is so rough it surprises himself, picking his head off your chest and letting your shirt drop so he can kiss you swiftly.

You frown at the loss of contact, rubbing your nose against his and still lightly petting his hair.

“Why not here?” You ask softly and he gives you a disapproving look that makes you sigh and rest your forehead down against his shoulder for a few seconds while you catch your breath. “It’s too far.”

He thinks for a moment before he’s adjusting his stance to pick you up off the ground, abandoning your laundry and his that both likely need to be switched out soon. He’d gladly let it sit and wash it again later if it means getting you up to his apartment as fast as possible.

You make a small surprised noise and cling to him, arms behind his neck and legs wrapped around his middle and he makes his way up the few stairs towards the elevators.

“Jack your leg.” The sight of the steps seems to remind you of his disability and he’d be more irritated by your worry if it didn’t sound so genuine.

You clearly don’t ever think too much about his leg restricting him, never shying away from asking him to lift heavy things or walk with you down to the store. You don’t treat him like he’s fragile or any less of a man for having limitations and he’s always liked that about you, same way he somehow likes your gentle concern even though it would have bothered him if it was anybody else.

“Think I can’t throw you around because of my leg?” He mumbles and you tense in his hold as he walks like you think he might be serious before you’re breathing out a laugh and hiding in his neck.

Jack finally gets back to his apartment, going crazy from the way you’d started to kiss his jaw and whine impatiently in the elevator. Your hands run up and down his arms like you’re marveling at the strength it takes to carry you for as long as he was, making soft needy noises and squirming around.

He can’t even care about the possibility somebody could see him with you, one of the neighbor he’d lived next to for years watching as Jack Abbot carries the much younger girl next door through his entry way as she whines for him to touch her more.

“Calm down baby.” His voice is soft once he gets to his room, setting you down on his bed and taking a few seconds to stare at you as you lay there and pout up at him.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and his gut twists a little at the observation, a mixture of desperate unfamiliar need and the same guilt from before accompanied by a new layer of it.

He thinks of his wife for the first time in a while. He used to spend every waking second with her on his mind but she had naturally started to fade from his mind once he met you, something he hadn’t even noticed until you’d already been living across the hall for a few months.

You’d came over for the first time and asked him to borrow some ingredients, strolling around his living room and eyeballing the photos on his walls while he poured some sugar into a small tupperware bowl for you to take back to your place. You had turned to him with a curious face and asked him where his wife was, obviously confused considering you’d never heard of her before despite how frequently you and him small talked.

That was the first time Jack noticed how little he’d been thinking of her lately, not just in the painful mourning way he’d been suffering through since she passed but in general too.

Now he was waking up in the morning and anticipating the next time you’d knock on his door, focusing on his health again so he could occupy you on your walks and not picking up too many extra shifts at work just incase you needed something and he wasn’t there.

Jack was thinking about her again now as you laid on his bed but only because he couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted something this bad, trying to compare the feeling of you to how he felt in his marriage and still thinking it fell short.

He had loved his wife, undoubtedly, but he craved you in a way that almost felt inhumane.

“You’re being mean to me.” You say softly to break him out of his trance, having zoned out just staring down at you and the way your chest was rising and falling with every deep breath.

“I’m never mean to you honey.” He whispers back and finally moves to lay down with you, hovering over your frame and running a hand from your waist to your ribs as he kisses you softly. “I take good care of you, don’t I?”

It’s a bit mean to throw your words from earlier back in your face, especially as he lets his mouth trail down your neck. You make a whiny noise and grip his shoulders, nodding your head and shifting under him so your legs are spread further.

“Yes Jack yes, you take care of me.” You’re practically whimpering and he feels almost drunk from how easily you get this needy, pausing his soft kisses to shift up on his knees and tug your shirt over your head.

You’re the prettiest sight he’s ever seen and he can’t help himself from bringing his mouth right back to your chest, drinking in the way you gasp and moan while he’s licking and sucking on your nipples. His other hand is softly groping whichever breast he doesn’t have his mouth on at the moment and your backs arching off his bed, scratching his shoulders through his shirt.

“Please touch me.” You’re begging after only a few minutes of the slow torture and he lets out a sharp breath, shifting so he’s more to the side of you than on top.

You’re quiet when he rubs his hand down your chest and over your stomach, rubbing at the waistband of your underwear for a few seconds just to hear the way you pant before he’s smoothing over your thighs.

Your back is basically against his chest as he hooks your leg over his to make sure yours are nice and spread for him, kissing your neck softly when he rubs your hips above your underwear.

You bare your neck for him easily and he’s selfish in the way he marks you, sucking any part of your warm skin he can reach so you’re left purple and red all over. He wants anybody you see for the next week or two to know you’ve been with somebody else, to see the claim he laid to your body even if he doesn’t let things go as far as you want him to take it.

Jack doesn’t need to be asked twice to touch you, big hand leaving your hip so he can fully palm your core.

Your reaction is just the way he had hoped it would be, sharp gasp leaving your lips as you instantly buck up against his touch. You whine desperately when he goes back to rubbing your thigh instead, giving you a second to work yourself up to the point he wants you to be at.

“Jack.” You don’t even sound like yourself now and it’s intoxicating, so pleading and broken. “Please.”

“Please what?” He’s practically whispering, perfectly calm and the direct opposite of how broken you sound just from him lightly touching you.

He moves you so you’re fully between his legs, back against his chest as he cages himself around you to keep you from moving.

You’re practically shaking, whimpering and moving your hips against nothing with the hopes he’ll cave and end up touching you again. You’re distracting to look at, body bare except for the pathetic excuse of underwear shorts you’d been wearing under your shirt, like you’d just been hoping he would be the one to find you in the laundry mat.

He has half the thought to make fun of you for that, make you tell him exactly what you were thinking when you left your apartment wearing so little, but he doesn’t think you could handle him saying much at all right now especially not something so demeaning.

“I’m going to touch you.” He says gently instead and kisses the side of your head, letting his hand go back to groping your chest just to make sure you stay worked up.

Even though he doubts at this point he even needs to touch you for that to happen.

“Yeah yeah.” You’re nodding in agreement, seemingly pleased at his decision as you relax back against him and let him touch you freely.

His other hands back between your legs now, letting you get used to the feeling of somebody touching you where you’re most sensitive. He’s just rubbing back and forth, listening to the way you pant and pulling back whenever you start to try and shift against his hand on your own.

“You’re wet just from that?” His voice is a little mean now but you don’t seem to mind, trying to clamp your thighs around his hand but being stopped by the sharp swat he sends to your skin. You wince but move your foot back to the other side of his leg so yours stay open, pouting softly at the silent punishment. “Answer me when I ask you something.”

“I’m always wet around you.” You admit with an embarrassed tone lacing your words, squirming like you wish you could hide yourself from the way he’s staring down at your body. “Want you so bad.”

“I want you too.” He kisses the side of your head, still rubbing you with just enough pressure to make you feel the friction but not to actually get off. “Gonna make you feel so good, you’ve just got to be patient.”

“Stop being scared to hurt me.” Your voice is shaky but as firm as possible, trying to show him you’re a big girl and can handle a little bit of the roughness he’s so clearly holding back.

It’s obvious in the way he was grabbing your throat your first kiss, moving your body around easily whenever he needed to, and scolding you just enough for you to be able to catch the mean tone seeping in accidentally.

Jack clearly has a darker side to him that he’s not letting you see and it’s obviously frustrating you, wanting to be taken seriously.

“I’ll hurt you if that’s what you want sweetheart but not for your first time.” His words don’t leave any room for argument so you don’t even try, sinking back against his firm chest and letting out a deep breath when he shifts behind you and presses himself forward.

It’s not long before you’re not able to wait anymore and he lets you scramble to tug down your underwear, keeping his fingers lightly rubbing between your folds and watching as you struggle to get the fabric past his insistent hand.

Eventually he lets you pull them off and then he’s right back to touching you, bare this time. You both suck in a breath at the contact and you’re practically laying down from how far you’d slid down his chest, spreading your legs as wide as they can go and whimpering while he touches you.

“Do you touch yourself like this baby?” He can’t help the curiosity, the image of you in your bed trying to get yourself off stuck in his mind now.

You shake your head and frown, trying to twist your neck to look at him but being stopped when he uses his free hand to roughly grip your chin and make you keep your eyes on the way he’s touching you, thumb on your sensitive clit now while you roll your hips the best you can.

“No I…” You can barely think let alone speak, clearly struggling as you make a pained and desperate noise. “I get nervous.”

Jack sighs and collects some of your wetness on his middle finger before finally pressing it against the tightness of your hole, not pushing in just yet but teasing it with light pressure and letting you get used to the feeling.

“When you’re with somebody, they should always be this gentle with you at first.” He’s saying softly, remembering that he’s supposed to be actually teaching you something and not just getting you off because he desperately wants to.

You frown deeply as he starts to talk and he doesn’t really understand why, thinks maybe you’re still being pouty that he won’t get rougher with you.

He tries to distract you by finally pressing a finger inside of you and it seems to work for a second, another gasp leaving you as you instinctively clench around the intrusion. He groans, his length throbbing against your back at the thought of being fully inside you instead of just a finger.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He rasps and buries his face in your hair for a few seconds to try and collect himself enough to keep teaching you something, anything at all so he doesn’t keep letting himself think this is something it isn’t. “They’ll have to really get you stretched before anything okay? You need to remember that baby.”

It bothers him so much he can barely focus, the thought of somebody not taking their time with you. He doesn’t want to picture you with another man in general but especially not in a way that hurts you, leaves you too sore the next morning with nobody to take care of you.

He’s so distracted by his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice your face stiffening at first, body a little tenser against him even though you’re still softly squirming to try and get him to put his finger deeper inside you.

“Jack stop.”

He does so immediately and goes to pull out of you before you’re making a panicked noise and closing your thighs around his hand. He lets you this time, pauses all movements just to wait for whatever it is that you need.

“N-no don’t stop that, god please don’t stop that.” Your voice is breathier now like the thought of him taking his hand away from you makes your chest tighten. “Just… stop talking about anyone else.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that and then his hands moving again, enough for you to relax and spread your legs back open.

You’re both quiet now as he adds another finger, lingering in the weight of your request and what it could mean if anything. He’s half sure you only asked because it was pulling you out of the moment, maybe making you nervous to think about doing this again with actual stakes, but the way you desperately tried to stop him from pulling away lets him pretend it was for another reason.

He’s selfish in the way he touches you now, thick fingers moving in and out of you while you cry and whine, gripping at his forearm whenever it feels like too much. He likes the way your nails dig into his arm when you think you might be close, thighs clenching and shifting when his thumb gently circles your swollen clit and how your lips part in breathy cries of his name.

He especially likes that.

You come with moans of his name filling the room and nobody else’s after you’d specifically asked him to stop mentioning other guys. Jack knows it’s selfish, even a little sick and perverted, but he could probably finish just from hearing that.

He’s throbbing against your back and he’s sure you’d be able to feel it if you were able to focus on anything after coming, body shaking a little as you pant endlessly and fall limb in his hold.

There’s a lot of softness that comes after, kissing the side of your head and being gentle in the way he cleans you up. It’s torture to be between your legs and getting to fully appreciate the sight of you for the first time without be able to touch you more but he doesn’t want to overstimulate you so early on.

He does let himself think about that vividly though, kissing against your thighs and picturing when he’s going to be able to put his mouth on you.

You’re quiet above him, eyes a little tired but still overly soft as you run your fingers through his hair and watch him wipe you down.

Then he’s back ontop of you and kissing you softly, shifting your back so you’re laying back against the pillows and not sitting up. It’s soft and bordering on romantic which makes his chest tighten, hoping you have no plans to leave his bed anytime soon.

“You okay?” He asks quietly against your mouth and he can feel you smiling, still touching his hair with one hand and letting the other drift down to the back of his neck.

“Felt so good.” You whisper back and your voice is a little hoarse from all the whining you’d been doing, nose bumping against his and then rubbing on his stubble for a few seconds. “Can I take a nap here?”

“You can do anything you want.” He says immediately, no hesitation as he gets up to get you one of his shirts and help you get comfortable, jumping at the opportunity to keep you with him just like he wanted.

Jack typically has a hard time sleeping through the night in general so he definitely never naps, needing to be truly past the brink of exhaustion to ever rest.

Yet he finds it to be the most simple thing in the world to crawl into his bed with you after taking off his leg, kissing you for a few more minutes before he’s wrapping you in his arms and tugging you back against his chest. He’s rubbing your stomach softly, hand under the shirt he’s given you, listening intently until he hears your breathing even out and then drifting to sleep right after you.

—

It’s one of the highlights of his decade to get to wake up with you still there, warm and making soft tired noises when you feel him start to stir.

His room is dark now other than the slight illumination coming from the moon outside of his window, casting just enough light for him to be able to watch your eyes flutter open.

You give him a soft sleepy smile and instinctively lean in to give him a kiss.

It’s easy to pretend that you are more than whatever this is when you act like this, mouths moving together sensually as if you have nowhere else you’d want to be.

Jack groans softly when your tongue pushes into his mouth, meeting it eagerly with his own and moving so hes hovering over you. Your hands are on his back, spreading your legs below him to let him slot between them.

He feels like a teenager again from how quickly he gets hard, your soft body under his putting him under some sort of spell. His hips shift and you let out a needy whine, scratching his shoulders lightly like you’re trying to encourage him.

You’re still making out slowly when he starts to thrust down against you, slow rolls of his hips to give you just enough friction to start to get desperate.

You’re tugging at his shirt fabric and he takes only a second to sit up and pull it over his head, back on you immediately and kissing you even more frantically. He’s moving your own shirt up towards your ribs but neither one of you wants to stop long enough to take it off, only able to when you need a quick second to take a breath.

It’s the first time you’ve both been nearly undressed together and he feels the effects of it instantly, your chest pressing against his when he lays back over you. Your skin is soft and hot to the touch, those now familiar soft whines leaving you when he lets his hand knead at your chest again.

“Jack please.” You’re whimpering and he finally stops kissing you in favor of sucking at your neck, bringing those marks from earlier back to the surface. “Can’t you just fuck me?”

He groans at the words and has to tuck his face in your shoulder, still rocking his hips against you even though they stuttered when you said that in that whiny voice of yours.

“Trust me, I want to fuck you so bad I can’t even think.” It leaves his mouth before he can stop it, not wanting to reject you again without making sure you know how badly he wants you.

“Then do it.” You’re begging now and he picks his head up to look at you, eyes wide and a little frustrated like you know he’s going to say no. You gasp when he thrusts down even harder, biting your lip as you stare at each other desperately. “Please Jack? Want you inside me.”

“I can’t baby.” He growls and kisses you to give himself a second to think without you arguing.

You’re quick to forget you were trying to convince him of something because you’re kissing him back deeply, angling your head so his tongue can get further and further inside your mouth.

He has that sick and perverted thought again that he’s coincidentally training you to be the perfect girl for him, kissing in a way he likes and not knowing how else to do it. Jack is selfish and wants everything you do to be for him, wants your body to instinctively move and react how he taught you regardless of who gets you next.

The thought of somebody else makes him want to forget his morals and fuck you like you’re begging him, be the one to take your virginity and fill you up for the first time.

He starts to reason with himself that it would actually be a good thing because Jack would never let himself hurt you in a way you didn’t like, he’d make sure you felt good around him and came so hard you weren’t able to see straight.

There’s nobody else who could fuck you like he could so he’s almost convinced himself that it’s a good idea when your phone rings on the nightstand.

You both stop, you’re completely tense under him and he sighs as he kisses you one more time and rolls off of you.

He lays there on his back as you sit up to grab your phone, screen a little too bright in the dark room and causing you to wince. He stares at your pretty face under the light as you open it up and answer it, not thinking much about the interruption despite the small disappointment he feels.

His hand is on your bare knee and rubbing your skin is soft circles, soothing both you and himself by keeping the contact.

“Hello?” Your voice is as soft and sweet as always, a little confused sounding which makes his eyebrows raise. “Oh Carter.”

Jack tenses up at the sound of a males name leaving your lips, his hand freezing and falling still on your knee. You’re avoiding looking at him as you listen to whoever it is speak on the other line, a deep voice bleeding through the speakers just enough for him to hear but not enough to make out the words.

“Tonight?” Your eyes go to the small digital clock on Jacks side of the bed, having to glance over his body in the process. You meet his eyes just for a second before they’re darting away again and it makes the pit in his stomach grow in understanding. “Of course I didn’t forget. I’ll be ready by nine.”

You’re hanging up after a quiet goodbye and now it’s suffocatingly silent in the room.

You’re still sitting up with your legs crossed under you, avoiding looking at him like you’re not still wearing his shirt and covered in marks he’d given to you. He waits for a minute before he’s sitting up and running a hand over his face, on the opposite side of the bed from you and facing the wall so you can’t see his expression when he finally gets himself to speak.

“You’ve got a date tonight?” He rasps out, trying his best to sound unaffected even though it comes out low and tight.

“I forgot.” You whisper back and you sound further away now, a glance over his shoulder confirms that you’d stood up off the bed and are searching for the shirt you’d shown up in so you can swap out of his. “He’s taking me to some art show downtown.”

Jack stares at you as you move around the room, eyes scanning over your body when you pull his shirt over your head and neatly fold it before putting it on his dresser. It feels really final to watch you change back into your own clothes, turning to meet his eyes and letting out a soft sigh when you see he’s already watching you closely.

He hopes it doesn’t show on his face, doesn’t want to be too obvious that he’s probably about two seconds away from throwing up.

“Carter.” He says simply and now you really stiffen.

You stand there for a few seconds like you’re waiting for something, eyes a little expectant and then full on disappointed when he scoffs and moves to put his leg back on so he can stand up and get out of the room that’s suddenly suffocating.

You leave his apartment and all the warmth goes with you.

He stands in his dark kitchen with regret sitting heavy on his chest, wishing he had stopped you and asked you to stay with him instead.

He isn’t sure if it’s the fear of rejection or his own guilt that stopped him but he knew he couldn’t ask you to do that. You deserved better than him and his baggage, his late hours at work and his dangerous hobbies that he needed to keep himself busy with to not think about the things that sent him spiraling.

He couldn’t imagine forcing you into a life where you had to explain him to your friends and family, ignore the curious and judging looks from his own when they realized just how young you were.

Jack knew you were lonely, it was obvious considering how much time you willingly spent with him and it was bad enough he’d taken advantage of your desperation for connection and nearly slept with you.

He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he stopped you from enjoying your youth, having a fun late night in the city surrounded by artsy people your age and not stuck on his couch watching old reruns because he’s too tired after work to properly take you out.

Jack hates himself for thinking all this and then still obsessively wanting you.

So much so that he purposely lingers near his truck right around the time you’d told your date you’d be ready. In his defense, he did actually need a few things from the corner store, so he sat in the parking lot and waited until he saw you come down.

Your date met you at the entrance of the lobby but didn’t take your purse from you or the jacket you were holding, smiled at you politely but couldn’t be bothered to open the door of his car or even wait for you to get in before he did.

It made Jack sick to his stomach all over again, jaw clenched as he sat in the dark interior of his truck and watched you drive off with some asshole only an hour after he’d had you sleeping next to him, panting under him and begging him to fuck you.

Jack decides right then that it all needs to stop, not just the sex lessons but helping you in general. He can’t be that person for you without wanting more, he’s selfish and possessive over somebody that was never supposed to be his and he knows it’s not fair to you.

So he doesn’t answer any of your texts that night, stays quiet in his living room whenever you knock on his door and waits until he hears you leave for work before he goes to check the mail.

He feels terrible for avoiding you but keeps trying to convince himself it’s in your best interest.

Jack is half asleep when the silent treatment finally breaks.

He’d fallen asleep on his couch accidentally, a beer can too many on the table in front of him and the same movie he’d been watching beforehand starting to roll credits. He should have been in bed sleeping after pulling a double at work but he couldn’t stand being in there lately, tossing and turning and trying to catch the faint scent of you lingering on his pillows.

There was a second of confusion, not sure why he had waken up in the first place, until the sharp knocks on his door made him flinch.

He was standing up on autopilot to open it, wincing at how stiff and sore his leg felt from falling asleep with it still on.

Any thought of his pain was gone the second he opened his door and saw your face, tears on your cheeks and your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“I need to talk to you.” You said immediately and he ushered you into his apartment, not necessarily wanting to be in an enclosed space with you but recognizing your tearful voice was far too loud to have a conversation in the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” He said softly and takes a few steps towards you on instinct, cradling your cheek and staring down at you when you nuzzle against his touch. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re an asshole.” You seem to remember that you’re mad at him because you step away from his touch, pushing his arm back down to his side and storming further into his apartment.

He stands there completely frozen as you toss your purse onto the chair near the couch, your eyes scanning over the beer cans and the obvious indent of where he’d been sleeping.

Then you’re back to looking at him and he knows what he probably looks like to you. The exhaustion is obvious on his face, clothes a little baggier than normal from a lack of taking care of himself and a constant awkward shifting on his leg to keep pressure off of it.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” Your voice cracks a little and he deflates, taking a few steps closer again even though he doesn’t think you want him to touch you. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” His face faces in disbelief at the idea you could ever do anything wrong in general, especially to him. “Of course you didn’t sweetheart.”

“Then why?” Your words are louder now and they linger in the tense air, face pained as you wait for him to answer.

He sighs and runs a hand over his stubble that desperately needs some maintenance, wishes he had the time to plan out everything he wanted to say to you so he doesn’t accidentally fuck it up more than he already had.

“I just… I can’t do it anymore.” He lets his hands fall to his sides with a loud defeated clap and shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t watch you go out with these idiots knowing they can’t take care of you.”

He hopes what he’s trying to say is an obvious to you as it is to him, not able to bring himself to actually voice the fact that he has feelings for you beyond helping out a neighbor.

“You didn’t stop me.” You sound devastated, head shaking like you don’t believe anything he’s saying to you.

You’re not crying anymore thankfully but you look so hurt and disappointed that it makes him physically ache, moving to grab your arm softly and guide you to sit down on the couch with him.

“I waited for you to stop me and you didn’t.” You continue once you’re sitting beside him, legs pressed together in a small amount of addicting content. “Isn’t it obvious by now that I only want to be with you?”

The words hit him so hard that he doesn’t even have time to process them, eyebrows furrowing as the need for more information pushes him to speak.

“Why would that be obvious? The entire point of this was for you to be ready for other people.”

You look a little embarrassed at his sound logic, staring down at your lap where your hands are fiddling with your fingers. He sighs and takes one of them in his, squeezing it softly until you let your gaze drift back up to his.

“I don’t want other people.” You whisper, staring at him with a small amount of hope in your eyes like you’re just waiting for him to understand. “And I don’t want you to be with anyone else either. I just figured… you wouldn’t cross that line without a good reason.”

Jack thinks it’s a little juvenile of a plan but he also knows you’re not wrong. He would have never touched you without the feeling of helping you out with something, no matter how much he had wanted you since the second you moved in.

That little lie was all he needed to get himself through the shame and guilt, the ability to pretend it was for a greater cause and not because he was sick and desperate for a girl half his age.

“Jack.” You sigh when he doesn’t respond for a few seconds, turning so you can face him better and press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw. “Stop thinking.”

“That’s a big ask.” He mumbles back but he gladly turns to give you a real kiss, holding your face in his hand and keeping your mouth against his.

You kiss until you run out of breath, pulling back from him but rubbing your nose against his and letting your small hands grip his forearm desperately.

“Then just be with me for tonight.” You try to reason with him in any way you can, rubbing his arm softly and blinking at him with those big pretty eyes that drive him so crazy.

He stares at you for a moment before he’s standing up off the couch and tugging you along with him, ignoring the little surprised noise you make in favor of lifting you up with his hands on the back of your thighs. You gasp and then giggle softly once he’s got you in the air, arms behind his neck and legs around his middle as he starts to walk you to his room.

“You’re crazy if you think you’re going anywhere after tonight.” He tells you once he gets you settled on his bed, kissing the smile off your face as he climbs over you.

It’s a direct mirror of the other night as you get each other undressed fully this time, kissing the entire time and tasting his tongue deep in your mouth when it starts to get more heated.

“You’re going to be mine.” He says firmly once he’s got you in nothing but your panties, making sure your eyes are locked on his when you hear it. His free hand is all over your body, rubbing from your smooth thigh up to your chest and cupping around your neck for a brief moment while he waits for you to respond. “If I fuck you then you’re mine.”

“I’ve been yours.” You whisper easily, like you didn’t have to put any thought into it.

He falters, hand tightening around your throat on instinct and then releasing the pressure when he sees the way your eyes light up with interest.

“Don’t be nasty baby.” He’s teasing, kissing the corner of your mouth and bringing your leg up so it’s around his waist and he can press himself against you. “Gonna be gentle with you for your first time. You deserve it.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You’re pouting and gripping at him impatiently, running your hand between your bodies to touch his stomach and fidget with the waistband of his boxers. “That’s what I want Jackie.”

“Didn’t ask what you wanted.” He grumbles back, not caring that it comes off a little mean because you whine at the sound of how rough his voice had gotten and he knows you like it.

He’s back to kissing you and it’s filthier than normal, more tongue and spit than anything else.

You’re as vocal as always, whining and begging impatiently when he gets your underwear off and starts to touch you again.

Jack can barely think straight when he’s back inside of you, fingers pushing in easier this time now that you’ve felt the intrusion before and know what to expect. You’re gasping and crying out immediately, unintelligible words that he blocks out in favor of focusing on how you feel when he’s stretches you out.

“Want it so bad.” Your near sob gets through to him and he hisses through clenched teeth at how wrecked you sound already, shushing you softly and kissing your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“I know baby I know.” He’s whispering but you don’t seem to be hearing him, spreading your legs further to try and make space for him to slot back between them instead of using his fingers.

Jack is just as impatient as you but he’s terrified of hurting you too early, although throbbing so hard in his boxers that it’s painful to shift around.

It’s not long before it’s too much prep for both of you and you’re watching him with your chest heaving as he gets himself undressed the rest of the way, leg going on the floor right alongside your underwear that he had slowly pulled down your body before climbing back over you.

Your eyes go down between your bodies where his leg is and he tenses for a second despite knowing you mean well with the concern you have on your face.

“Let me ride you.” You say softly and his chest tightens with that old familiar shame he was still actively working on ridding himself of.

“I can fuck you.” He says gruffly and your eyes flash with regret, pouting a little like you’re worried you’ve hurt his feelings with your thoughtful suggestion. He kisses the expression off your face, a long deep one followed by a few quick pecks to try and ease your mind. “Next time baby.”

He says it both because he knows realistically he has limitations, there will be plenty of nights he’s not able to rail you into his mattress like he wants to, but also because he knows he would die a happy man the second he got to see you bouncing on top of him and desperately trying to get yourself off.

You look like you want to argue but you’re stopped when he’s pushing your legs apart and moving between them, sharp gasp leaving you when you feel his hard length pressing against you finally.

“Fuck Jack.” Your voice is sharp and already a little pained just from the dull sensation of him lining up with your hole, a growl leaving him at the sound of your distress.

“Just relax baby.” He says as softly as he can even though his throat feels tight and raw, kissing you gently to try and get you to calm down enough for him to push in. “You’re too tight sweetheart.”

“I… I can’t.” You let out another sharp cry when he shifts forward, nails digging into his shoulders so deep it makes him wince and lower his head down on your shoulder.

Jack has to use every ounce of self control he can muster to not just fully push himself into you and feel that tight heat he’s getting a taste of, that same sick and selfish part of him that wants you in the first place begging him to just take you already.

Instead he takes a few deep breaths before he’s kissing you with more focus, going back and forth between softly rubbing your side and massaging your inner thigh to try and urge your body to relax and accommodate him.

It’s a torturous ten minutes, especially due to your soft whimpers and the way you cry his name whenever he accidentally moves himself deeper.

Then you’re finally calm enough, bare chest rising and falling with the deep breaths he’d instructed you to take.

“Want you inside Jack.” You’re whining in his ear, clinging to him tightly and almost suffocating him when he immediately takes your queue and pushes in. You tense up again at the brief surge of pain and then let out a satisfied cry when you feel how full you are, clenching around him so ridiculously that he almost needs to pull out to give himself a break despite barely starting.

You’re both too overwhelmed to speak much more once he starts to actually fuck you, deep thrust accompanied by filthy kisses to keep you from waking up the neighbors with how desperately you’re whining for him to keep giving you more.

It’s pure need on both ends, your hips eagerly rocking upwards to try and meet his thrust sloppily while he uses his free hand to roughly push down on your stomach and keep you in place.

“Jackie.” It’s nearly a sob from you now and he can tell you’re close from how much tighter you’d gotten, almost an impossible squeeze for him to keep fucking you through.

He’s grateful you’re so inexperienced because he doesn’t think he’d last long either, not with the way you look as you stare up at him with teary and trusting eyes.

“I know baby you’re doing so good for me.” It’s more of a growl than anything else but he can barely think let alone speak enough to keep encouraging you. “Taking me so well sweetheart.”

“I’m so full Jack.” You whimper and cling to him tighter, nearly pulling him fully down on top of you and knocking him off his balance. “Feels so good.”

You’re stuttering through your sentences and slurring each word, eyes a little dazed in a way that makes him need to squeeze his shut to avoid coming inside you just from that fucked out look you have.

It’s more sweet than heated when you actually do finally reach your peak, holding onto him still and kissing the side of his jaw softly with your face buried in his neck as you squirm and shake your way through your orgasm.

He stays inside of you for as long as he can so you’re not shocked from the sudden feeling of emptiness but you’re squeezing him too tight and he has to pull out as soon as you’re starting to relax. You whimper immediately at the lose and pick your head up to pout at him, eyes panicked like you’re genuinely distressed he didn’t finish inside you.

He shushes you gently and kisses your face over and over, rubbing your side as he lets you fully come back to reality before attempting to clean either of you up or get you dressed.

“Jack.” You’ve got the needy and frustrated tone he loves so much and he knows you’re not dropping it, meeting your eyes with a fond sigh as you glance down at where he’d came instead of inside you.

“Next time.” He promises again and he means it, fully intending to have that conversation with you ahead of time now that he’s got you like this.

Jack isn’t too opposed to the idea of getting you pregnant, not even sure he’s able to with the amount of pills he takes, but he has to push down that thought along with the rest of the sick ones he gets when he looks at your needy eyes.

You smile a little at the loose promise and tuck yourself back into his shoulder, soothing any concern he has about what just happened or how you’re supposed to operate going forward.

He’s undoubtedly the luckiest guy in the world to have you wanting him like this, feeling safe in his arms and desperate for him in the way he’d been for you since the second he laid eyes on you.

Jack was never the type of person to take the duty of taking care of somebody lightly and he doesn’t plan to let you down for even a second, kissing the top of your head softly and letting himself forget about any shame or insecurity just to hold you for awhile longer.

[rienxangl]

best friends dad jack

warnings: smut!! jack is a single dad (widower), fauxcest, you are so horny for jack you can’t even think straight lol, jack has a guilty conscience but still fucks you, you love his praise, you have severe daddy issues (self indulgent lol)

you love your best friend. you do.. but you’ve always loved her dad a little more - maybe because he was always a dad to you as well, knowing yours passed away at a young age. it’s something you & your friend could always relate to, knowing she didn’t have a mother.

so he always made sure to be there for you in subtle ways: making sure you ate after school when you would come over your best friend house for a playdate, when he would buy you your favorite treats along with his daughters when going grocery shopping, just always thinking of his sweetie & how nice her friend is- and when he was there for you in high school when prom came along & you didn’t have a date - he was there for you & went as your plus one. you friend thought it was so embarrassing that her dad would be keeping an eye at her at prom, but she’ll be fine in the end, you thought- plus you two had a fun sleepover after. and when he helped both you move into your dorm for college with your friend & settle into your studies.. you felt the most safe with him.

but what your best friend didn’t know is how sometimes you crossed certain boundaries, like your first day of college. you had a stressful time settling into classes & maintaining your chaotic schedule- you kept getting lost on campus which due to that made you become late to your classes. by the time the day ended you had cried twice, ruined your makeup- & sweated through your clothes. you knew what you needed right now, so, you just walked to your dorm pulling out your phone to send a quick text to your favorite person.

dad <3: can i come over please? had a stressful day :(

jack was just relaxing when he saw your message, but he replied with a swiftness. he deemed himself a regular man who cared for more than one sweet girl in his life, & that girl was you. you were just the nicest little thing always looking for approval. especially his. he loved the way you smiled brightly when he subtly complimented you. he loved your manners. the way you always said “please” & “thank you.” you even called him sir for a very long time until he corrected you-

“please- call me dad, sir makes me feel all old.”

so when you texted him, he didn’t hesitate at all when it came to his answer.

jack: you don’t even need to ask, honey. you can know you can. is my other daughter in the dorm with you currently?

as you stepped out of your shower, you thought about her- you don’t know where your best friend was currently. you remember she told you about a guy she was interested in so she’s probably with him. so you decide to cover for your friend this time, only cause you didn’t want jack to worry..

you: yeah, she’s here!! chilling & relaxed so no need to worry ! & i’m on my way right now :3

you felt slightly guilty about the little lie, but what your best friend didn’t realize- is how you also call him dad.. just when it’s you two, you just feel so comfortable around him & plus you he wanted you to.. so why not?

“as long as you feel good around me okay?” jack voice ringing in your head from the distant memory. so when you finally get to his house & jack opens the door, you knock into his chest and hold onto his embrace, his warm chest comforting you immediately.

“missed you a lot dad, had such a bad day.” you say muffled into his chest. you’re just so at ease around him, it naturally slips out. when he hears the wobbling tone of your voice he felt his fatherly instincts kick in with you immediately, wanting to shield you from the rest of the world.

“awe, come’ere. what do you wanna do? just cuddle & watch tv for now like always?” jack says in such a soft voice not wanting to upset you even more.. he could never upset you though. he kicked the door back with his foot so he could still hold onto to you- only to soon break you apart from his chest. you whine slightly.

“hey, hey- have you eaten yet?” you shook your head no. “you know better baby..” jack grips the bottom of your chin with his thumb, grazing just below your lower lip. you look down guiltily. you know you know better, but you were so overwhelmed today you just simply forgot.

“well, i’m gonna make you a meal & then we’ll cuddle together & we can watch whatever you want okay?” you nod now. you’ve gone nonverbal- his care making you feel all warm & relaxed.

“words, my girl.” “o-okay..” his casual dominance towards you stirs something inside of you. you can’t do anything but obey him.

“go upstairs, make yourself comfortable in my bed, and i’ll be up there soon. okay?” when you nod your head again he kisses the top of your forehead then dismisses you. your stomach is swirling with different emotions, but you head upstairs walking to his room anyway.

when you entered his room all of your worries just floated away.. you didn’t want to think about anything else.. all that was on your mind was jack. dad. your daddy..

so, you dropped the white skirt you wore over along with your top and put on one of his plain black shirts, feeling engulfed by him completely.

you felt your thoughts start to drift again when you relaxed onto jacks bed, smelling his musk all over his clean, organized sheets. you started to think about the ways that he’s always been there for you. always there when you needed comfort.

especially in these simple situations of distress. you begin to think about how he could be there for you in other ways.. like helping you get your scheduling together back at college, like maybe giving you a bath for the days you’re really exhausted & you just need someone to take care of you…. like thrusting his thick fingers in & out of your wet hole while you’re needy, whispering into your ear telling how you’re his favorite daughter, and how you’re always so good for him…

you don’t even realize your hands are in your panties swirling around your soaked clit.. so lost into your imagination about your dad. you’re so far gone when you realize you’re thinking about jack pressing his thick cock into your tiny cunt.. stuffing your wet pussy while telling how much of a perfect girl you are. you’re filling yourself with your own fingers, dreaming of your dads cock in you. fuck. you feel so dirty.. but you can’t help it..

but what you don’t know is how dirty your dad feels too. because he’s watching you. jacks watching you. in the doorway- pumping your fingers in & out of your sloppy cunt through your panties - and you don’t even realize because your eyes are snapped shut, drowning in your own bliss. he was coming up here to check on you only for him to see you doing the unexpected.

jacks not stupid, nor is his blind. he sees the way you’ve grown… womanly over the years. but he knows he shouldn’t see you like that, his daughters best friend- basically a second daughter to him.. he’d be pervert to see that.. to see the way your lips became so pouty when you were sad just earlier in his arms, to feel how your chest felt again his hard one, so full & plump.

your body has filled out very nicely… he thinks. the way his large hands fit perfectly with your hips & the way he softly caressed your back .. you fit perfectly with his body. the way your cute, sparkling doe eyes just look up at him with such want- looking to be cared for.

but fuck- he can’t let his thoughts wander, it would be unethical. immoral. and he can’t ruin his relationship with his babygirl. he can’t. he loves you too much.

but when he sees that you’re softly whimpering “dad.. daddy..”while toying with your soaked little clit, he speaks up.

“… baby.. what’re you doing..?” jacks voice is so strained, almost like he’s trying to hold himself back. you gasp slightly when you see that he’s in the doorway, but you don’t take your hand out of your panties. infact you start thrusting your fingers back & forth into your needy hole even faster.. seeing the one you crave so close to you.

“i-i need you daddy.. please..” you’re out of breath, feeling yourself beginning to get close to your orgasm- wet squelching getting louder.

jack doesn’t know what controls him. maybe it’s the way you’re getting your pussy wet for him all over his bed, maybe it’s the way you beg so sweetly for him- and you’ve always been a sweet girl, so why not give you a reward?

so he does what any sane man would do in his situation, he walks over to you, go down to your level and kisses your needy lips, basking in the way you respond & reciprocate to him. you moan into his mouth like you’re starved. your tounges clash together with such fervor, you love the way you can taste his masculinity- he loves the way you taste so sweet.

he slides your damp panties down- taking his thick middle and ring finger & dips them into your soaked pussy, just seeing how wet you really are for him. he groans from seeing how sticky you are.

then unbuckling his own pants, he frees his hard cock & starts tapping it directly onto your clit. you mewl & your hole clenches around nothing, feeling so empty suddenly. he rubs his cock back & forth on your clit before sliding down your labia, before swiftly stuffing himself into your tight drooling cunt, making you immediately cum & gush all over his cock. he grunts at the tight feeling around his dick.

“such a pretty little doll. i can’t believe you’re my fucking daughter.. so perfect for me.”

“..dad!- please!- more!” you yell.

you’re moaning so loud but you can’t help it, you’re creaming all over your dads cock from the first thrust. you feel so filthy, but so does jack. he can feel all of his daughters hot juices on him- & as much as he wants to wait for you to come down from your orgasm, he can’t. so, he begins chasing his own pleasure - pressing his cock deep into you then pulling halfway out- then repeating the process, making you squirt with each pump.

jacks preening at the way your hole just takes him- stretching around his aching cock- it’s like your pussy is begging to be filled with his cum.

“fuck, you’re tryna milk your dad for all he’s worth aren’t you?” you can’t do anything but squeal in reply. everytime time his cock pumps deeper into your pussy, feeling the way his balls slap against the bottom of your ass, his cock becomes ready to shoot deep inside you.

loving the way your cunt clenches around him, like you’re trying to push him out, it’s only in a matter of minutes that you feel a warm substance thats filling your hot pussy. “god.. you’re such a good little girl for your daddy..” you both moan at the feeling of his cum overflowing your cunt, making a mess everywhere on the sheets..

“mmm- thank you, thank you daddy.. it feels so good..” you babble out.. your head is so clouded you don’t even process jack removing himself from on top of you to lay himself next to your body & pressing soft kisses onto your damp neck, hoping to soothe you. you love the feeling of his scratchy stubble against your soft skin.

you just hope that this can happen more often now..

i hope this was decent!! feedback is always appreciated!! <33

[iheartshawn]

tw: fauxcest, dubcon, mean jack, pussy spanking, connotations for anal, papa/daddy kink, implied big hefty age gap !

thinking about aged up, much older jack, with barely any traces of reds and browns left in his hair and stubble ♡. . . he's telling you you're gross for calling him 'papa'. . . you answering back, "well, you're gross for flirting back with someone young enough to be your granddaughter!" you accused, jutting your chin up.

"the fucking mouth on you." jack roughly manhandled you, positioning you easily over his lap. you squeaked in surprise. you bit back a giggle, imagining the countless of possibilities of what's he going to do to you next. bad idea.

jack clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your attire. "is this what young girls are wearing nowadays? why do you even bother wearing anything at all?" he didn't even need to flip your micro skirt up to see your ass. didn't need to push the gusset of your sheer so-called string of an underwear away to see you already dripping all over the couch. you basically presented yourself to him.

"little fucking thing." jack observed quietly mostly to himself when he started rubbing his thumb along the lacy covered slit. "juicy pussy. . . she's drooling, baby. does that mean she's happy to see me?" he said it in a sickly sweet tone you wanted to smack him because you're so embarrassed. "i should keep you here to myself, hm? wouldn't want anyone knowing my granddaughter is a gross disgusting girl."

god, he's so nasty. "papa, you're being so cruel to me." your whimpers turned into loud groans of pain when jack started to spank your pussy in quick successions. "oh yeah? and whose fault is that? you're being a bad girl right now so i'm treating you how bad girls should be treated. you're going to cum just like this. . . if i'm feeling merciful i might give you my finger up. . . here." probing at your rim. ♡

💭 i don't think this needed to be said but my readers in all of my writings are legal adults with fully developed frontal lobes !

i was inspired by the recent shawnyhats appearance like omg. i'm diving in the snow grandada

[rienxangl]

best friends dad jack

warnings: smut!! jack is a single dad (widower), fauxcest, you are so horny for jack you can’t even think straight lol, jack has a guilty conscience but still fucks you, you love his praise, you have severe daddy issues (self indulgent lol)

you love your best friend. you do.. but you’ve always loved her dad a little more - maybe because he was always a dad to you as well, knowing yours passed away at a young age. it’s something you & your friend could always relate to, knowing she didn’t have a mother.

so he always made sure to be there for you in subtle ways: making sure you ate after school when you would come over your best friend house for a playdate, when he would buy you your favorite treats along with his daughters when going grocery shopping, just always thinking of his sweetie & how nice her friend is- and when he was there for you in high school when prom came along & you didn’t have a date - he was there for you & went as your plus one. you friend thought it was so embarrassing that her dad would be keeping an eye at her at prom, but she’ll be fine in the end, you thought- plus you two had a fun sleepover after. and when he helped both you move into your dorm for college with your friend & settle into your studies.. you felt the most safe with him.

but what your best friend didn’t know is how sometimes you crossed certain boundaries, like your first day of college. you had a stressful time settling into classes & maintaining your chaotic schedule- you kept getting lost on campus which due to that made you become late to your classes. by the time the day ended you had cried twice, ruined your makeup- & sweated through your clothes. you knew what you needed right now, so, you just walked to your dorm pulling out your phone to send a quick text to your favorite person.

dad <3: can i come over please? had a stressful day :(

jack was just relaxing when he saw your message, but he replied with a swiftness. he deemed himself a regular man who cared for more than one sweet girl in his life, & that girl was you. you were just the nicest little thing always looking for approval. especially his. he loved the way you smiled brightly when he subtly complimented you. he loved your manners. the way you always said “please” & “thank you.” you even called him sir for a very long time until he corrected you-

“please- call me dad, sir makes me feel all old.”

so when you texted him, he didn’t hesitate at all when it came to his answer.

jack: you don’t even need to ask, honey. you can know you can. is my other daughter in the dorm with you currently?

as you stepped out of your shower, you thought about her- you don’t know where your best friend was currently. you remember she told you about a guy she was interested in so she’s probably with him. so you decide to cover for your friend this time, only cause you didn’t want jack to worry..

you: yeah, she’s here!! chilling & relaxed so no need to worry ! & i’m on my way right now :3

you felt slightly guilty about the little lie, but what your best friend didn’t realize- is how you also call him dad.. just when it’s you two, you just feel so comfortable around him & plus you he wanted you to.. so why not?

“as long as you feel good around me okay?” jack voice ringing in your head from the distant memory. so when you finally get to his house & jack opens the door, you knock into his chest and hold onto his embrace, his warm chest comforting you immediately.

“missed you a lot dad, had such a bad day.” you say muffled into his chest. you’re just so at ease around him, it naturally slips out. when he hears the wobbling tone of your voice he felt his fatherly instincts kick in with you immediately, wanting to shield you from the rest of the world.

“awe, come’ere. what do you wanna do? just cuddle & watch tv for now like always?” jack says in such a soft voice not wanting to upset you even more.. he could never upset you though. he kicked the door back with his foot so he could still hold onto to you- only to soon break you apart from his chest. you whine slightly.

“hey, hey- have you eaten yet?” you shook your head no. “you know better baby..” jack grips the bottom of your chin with his thumb, grazing just below your lower lip. you look down guiltily. you know you know better, but you were so overwhelmed today you just simply forgot.

“well, i’m gonna make you a meal & then we’ll cuddle together & we can watch whatever you want okay?” you nod now. you’ve gone nonverbal- his care making you feel all warm & relaxed.

“words, my girl.” “o-okay..” his casual dominance towards you stirs something inside of you. you can’t do anything but obey him.

“go upstairs, make yourself comfortable in my bed, and i’ll be up there soon. okay?” when you nod your head again he kisses the top of your forehead then dismisses you. your stomach is swirling with different emotions, but you head upstairs walking to his room anyway.

when you entered his room all of your worries just floated away.. you didn’t want to think about anything else.. all that was on your mind was jack. dad. your daddy..

so, you dropped the white skirt you wore over along with your top and put on one of his plain black shirts, feeling engulfed by him completely.

you felt your thoughts start to drift again when you relaxed onto jacks bed, smelling his musk all over his clean, organized sheets. you started to think about the ways that he’s always been there for you. always there when you needed comfort.

especially in these simple situations of distress. you begin to think about how he could be there for you in other ways.. like helping you get your scheduling together back at college, like maybe giving you a bath for the days you’re really exhausted & you just need someone to take care of you…. like thrusting his thick fingers in & out of your wet hole while you’re needy, whispering into your ear telling how you’re his favorite daughter, and how you’re always so good for him…

you don’t even realize your hands are in your panties swirling around your soaked clit.. so lost into your imagination about your dad. you’re so far gone when you realize you’re thinking about jack pressing his thick cock into your tiny cunt.. stuffing your wet pussy while telling how much of a perfect girl you are. you’re filling yourself with your own fingers, dreaming of your dads cock in you. fuck. you feel so dirty.. but you can’t help it..

but what you don’t know is how dirty your dad feels too. because he’s watching you. jacks watching you. in the doorway- pumping your fingers in & out of your sloppy cunt through your panties - and you don’t even realize because your eyes are snapped shut, drowning in your own bliss. he was coming up here to check on you only for him to see you doing the unexpected.

jacks not stupid, nor is his blind. he sees the way you’ve grown… womanly over the years. but he knows he shouldn’t see you like that, his daughters best friend- basically a second daughter to him.. he’d be pervert to see that.. to see the way your lips became so pouty when you were sad just earlier in his arms, to feel how your chest felt again his hard one, so full & plump.

your body has filled out very nicely… he thinks. the way his large hands fit perfectly with your hips & the way he softly caressed your back .. you fit perfectly with his body. the way your cute, sparkling doe eyes just look up at him with such want- looking to be cared for.

but fuck- he can’t let his thoughts wander, it would be unethical. immoral. and he can’t ruin his relationship with his babygirl. he can’t. he loves you too much.

but when he sees that you’re softly whimpering “dad.. daddy..”while toying with your soaked little clit, he speaks up.

“… baby.. what’re you doing..?” jacks voice is so strained, almost like he’s trying to hold himself back. you gasp slightly when you see that he’s in the doorway, but you don’t take your hand out of your panties. infact you start thrusting your fingers back & forth into your needy hole even faster.. seeing the one you crave so close to you.

“i-i need you daddy.. please..” you’re out of breath, feeling yourself beginning to get close to your orgasm- wet squelching getting louder.

jack doesn’t know what controls him. maybe it’s the way you’re getting your pussy wet for him all over his bed, maybe it’s the way you beg so sweetly for him- and you’ve always been a sweet girl, so why not give you a reward?

so he does what any sane man would do in his situation, he walks over to you, go down to your level and kisses your needy lips, basking in the way you respond & reciprocate to him. you moan into his mouth like you’re starved. your tounges clash together with such fervor, you love the way you can taste his masculinity- he loves the way you taste so sweet.

he slides your damp panties down- taking his thick middle and ring finger & dips them into your soaked pussy, just seeing how wet you really are for him. he groans from seeing how sticky you are.

then unbuckling his own pants, he frees his hard cock & starts tapping it directly onto your clit. you mewl & your hole clenches around nothing, feeling so empty suddenly. he rubs his cock back & forth on your clit before sliding down your labia, before swiftly stuffing himself into your tight drooling cunt, making you immediately cum & gush all over his cock. he grunts at the tight feeling around his dick.

“such a pretty little doll. i can’t believe you’re my fucking daughter.. so perfect for me.”

“..dad!- please!- more!” you yell.

you’re moaning so loud but you can’t help it, you’re creaming all over your dads cock from the first thrust. you feel so filthy, but so does jack. he can feel all of his daughters hot juices on him- & as much as he wants to wait for you to come down from your orgasm, he can’t. so, he begins chasing his own pleasure - pressing his cock deep into you then pulling halfway out- then repeating the process, making you squirt with each pump.

jacks preening at the way your hole just takes him- stretching around his aching cock- it’s like your pussy is begging to be filled with his cum.

“fuck, you’re tryna milk your dad for all he’s worth aren’t you?” you can’t do anything but squeal in reply. everytime time his cock pumps deeper into your pussy, feeling the way his balls slap against the bottom of your ass, his cock becomes ready to shoot deep inside you.

loving the way your cunt clenches around him, like you’re trying to push him out, it’s only in a matter of minutes that you feel a warm substance thats filling your hot pussy. “god.. you’re such a good little girl for your daddy..” you both moan at the feeling of his cum overflowing your cunt, making a mess everywhere on the sheets..

“mmm- thank you, thank you daddy.. it feels so good..” you babble out.. your head is so clouded you don’t even process jack removing himself from on top of you to lay himself next to your body & pressing soft kisses onto your damp neck, hoping to soothe you. you love the feeling of his scratchy stubble against your soft skin.

you just hope that this can happen more often now..

i hope this was decent!! feedback is always appreciated!! <33

[ultraviolenclana]

summary: you and SOLDIER BOY were always fighting, until one night he decided to break your tough act and put you in your place, showing you exactly what a brat like you deserves.

cw: smut, dubcon!! daddy kink, degradation, praise kink, virgin reader, overstimulation, somnophilia?, creampie, dirty talk, manipulation.

wc: 7.3k

after butcher and mm managed to unfreeze soldier boy, the safehouse became a total living hell. the team quickly realized he was way too unstable to be left alone, and since butcher, mm, hughie, and frenchie were always out chasing leads on vought, the annoying job of babysitting this piece of shit fell right into your lap. what followed was a routine of pure mutual hatred.

on that specific tuesday afternoon, the heat inside the house was unbearable. frenchie and hughie had gone out to get food, and butcher was locked in the office with mm, screaming about something on the computer screen.

in the living room, ben was sprawled on the couch, wearing just some old grey sweatpants and a white tank top that showed off his thick, massive arms. he held a beer bottle in his right hand and a lit cig in the other, letting the ash drop straight onto the floor.

"ben, i've told you a hundred times not to ash on the floor. i just cleaned this room," you said, standing right in front of him with your hands on your hips, glaring daggers at him.

he didn't even flinch. he took another long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before blowing it right in your face. you coughed, waving the air with your hand, your face turning red with anger.

"and i already told you i don't take orders from kids, brat," he answered, his voice deep and dragged out, full of that typical arrogance you were so sick of. "in my day, girls like you knew their place. they cleaned up the mess without complaining and kept their mouths shut when a man was relaxing."

"your day is gone! you're just a sexist idiot who spent years frozen and now you're useless, just drinking all day and having those explosive tantrums," you snapped back, taking a step forward, trying to hold your ground even though you knew he could crush you with one hand.

ben let out a loud laugh, shifting his posture on the couch. he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at you from head to toe, his eyes narrowed as he took in your expression of pure hatred. he found it fascinating. seeing you gesturing, stomping your foot, and losing your mind over his teasing was the best part of his day. his pride would never let him admit what he felt seeing you stand up to him, so he turned everything into humiliation.

"look at you. think you scare anyone with that angry face, little girl?" he scoffed, standing up and towering over you. he reached out and patted your cheek mockingly. "you gotta respect your elders, brat. if i want to throw ash on the floor, on the table, or on your face, i will. and you're gonna clean it."

"get your hands off me, you idiot!" you yelled, slapping his hand away. "i loathe you. everyone here only puts up with you because they need your strength against homelander, but the second this is over, i'll make sure to kick you out myself."

the argument was getting loud enough to echo through the halls. the office door banged open and butcher appeared at the top of the stairs with his usual scowl, holding a pack of smokes.

"what the hell is all this noise down here?" butcher roared, stepping down the stairs, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. "i'm trying to work and you two sound like dogs fighting over a bone. girl, i gave you one simple job: keep him quiet inside the house. is it really that hard?"

"he's throwing ash everywhere and treating me like a maid!" you complained, pointing at ben, hoping for some support.

ben took another sip of his beer, looking at butcher with a smirk. "your nanny is a crybaby, man. can't take a joke. in my time, women had thicker skin. this generation today is made of sugar, the slightest thing and they wanna cry and scream."

butcher let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. he had zero patience for this. "i don't give a shit whose fault it is."

"but..." you tried to protest.

"no buts, fuckin' fix it," butcher cut you off, turning around and heading back up to the office, slamming the door hard.

when silence returned to the room, you looked at ben and he had the biggest, smug bastard smile on his face. he set the beer on the coffee table with a thud and leaned back on the couch, locking his hands behind his head, savoring your defeat.

"see that, little girl?" he whispered, his voice smooth and venomous. "even your friend knows you're just a spoiled brat making a drama out of everything. now, do me a favor. go to the kitchen and get me another beer. and try not to cry on the way, yeah?"

you clenched your fists so hard your nails almost cut your skin. the hatred you felt for this man was overflowing, and the amusement in his eyes only made it worse. you knew he was doing it on purpose, of course you knew. he always did everything to get under your skin, and he always succeeded, damn it.

later that week, things in the house got even tighter. the place wasn't actually that big; it was a well-hidden underground structure so vought wouldn't find you.

since you were the only girl in the group, mm and frenchie had insisted you deserved some privacy and dignity. they agreed you'd get the only single bedroom in the house, while the men shared the other rooms and makeshift beds. ben, of course, complained at the time, saying it was ridiculous for him to be cramped while a brat got a whole room to herself, but butcher told him to shut the fuck up.

things changed on a thursday night. starlight showed up out of nowhere, wearing a heavy coat to disguise herself, desperate to see hughie. they were going through a rough patch with vought and she needed a safe place to crash away from the spotlight. hughie was so nervous, pacing back and forth in the kitchen, it was almost sad to watch.

you looked at hughie, who was staring at you with those puppy-dog eyes, and let out a long sigh. you liked them and knew how hard the situation was. "it's fine, hughie. she can stay in my room with you tonight. i'll grab some blankets and sleep on the living room couch, no problem."

"seriously? wow, thank you so much, for real.” hughie said, looking like he was gonna cry tears of relief, while annie gave you a quick, grateful hug.

later, you went upstairs and grabbed your jammies—a pair of short cotton shorts and an old t-shirt—along with a pillow and a blanket. when you came down to set things up on the couch, you ran straight into ben coming out of the kitchen. he was finishing a beer and stopped in his tracks, watching you carry your stuff with that heavy, lingering gaze of his.

ben took the last gulp of his beer, set the empty bottle on the counter, and checked you out from head to toe, noticing your short jammies. his eyes lingered on your legs and the outline of your chest under the t-shirt.

"goodnight to you too, little girl.” he rumbled in his deep, dragged-out voice, letting out a short, mocking chuckle from the corner of his mouth as he walked past you.

he didn't say anything else, just turned his back and walked up the steps slowly, heading toward the bedrooms upstairs. you exhaled, relieved he hadn't started another fight, and started fixing the blanket and pillow on the couch.

after lying down and pulling the blanket over yourself, silence finally took over the house. the exhaustion from a stressful day made you fall into a deep sleep quickly.

the living room was almost pitch black, broken only by the grey streaks of moonlight cutting through the blinds. you were totally vulnerable there, curled up on the couch, having no idea that at the top of the stairs, the door to the room ben was sleeping in opened without making a single sound.

he walked down the steps slowly, barefoot, wearing only those loose grey sweatpants. he hadn't come down for water or a smoke. he came down specifically to see you. his pride, shaped by decades of being america's greatest hero, would never let him admit it out loud, but the image of you sleeping in the living room in those short pajamas had been hammering his brain all night. he felt an overwhelming, violent, suffocating urge for you, something that made him furious because he couldn't control it. he hated the fact that a girl who stood up to him every day had so much power over his thoughts.

he stopped right next to the couch, arms crossed over his broad chest, just watching the shape of your body in the dark. ben couldn't resist. the need to possess, to touch, and to break your tough attitude spoke way louder. with calculated slowness, he knelt on the floor, his face inches from yours.

his large, calloused hand reached out to your exposed leg, tracing up your skin before sliding under your shirt. centimeters by centimeter, he pulled the light fabric up with torturous care, exposing your chest to the cold air. your nipples hardened instantly, and ben swallowed hard, staring at your soft skin.

his pants were already tight, but he forced himself to hold back from sucking you right then so he wouldn’t wake you up.

the sudden chill and the weight of his hand finally woke you. your eyes fluttered open to see ben looming over you, his fingers against your bare skin.

shock hit you like electricity. you gasped, trying to scramble back and push his chest away, but ben instantly pinned you down. with terrifying speed, he locked both your wrists above your head with one hand, while his other hand slapped over your mouth, smothering your scream.

he shook his head slowly, looking down at your wide, terrified eyes with a cold, dominant stare.

"shh... quiet, doll. you don't want to wake up the whole house and have them see you like this, do you?" he whispered darkly against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

you thrashed beneath him, trying to kick, but his strength was an iron press. seeing your panic, his expression softened into something purely manipulative. "calm down... relax, sweetheart. look at me," he murmured, loosening the pressure on your mouth just enough but keeping his fingers close. "you're so beautiful. a perfect little thing."

tears of pure fear spilled down your cheeks. ben shook his head, feigning disappointment. "no, no. don't cry, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you, you know that. I just wanted to talk." he used that calm, steady voice to break your resistance and make you feel small. "you know this is your fault, right? you're a tease. walking around this house all day in those tiny shorts... it's disrespectful to the men here. you kept me wound up all day, parading around. I couldn't resist."

his words twisted your mind, making you feel a sudden wave of guilt. he leaned into your neck, inhaling deeply. "I've been starving for you since the day they defrosted me. I always wanted you for myself. you have no idea how pissed I got whenever you laughed at frenchie’s stupid jokes or talked late with butcher. I wanted to break their faces. because I'm the one who's supposed to hold you. you're mine."

the heavy manipulation confused your fear with an overwhelming sense of submission. you always acted tough during the day, but being helpless under the most powerful man in the house completely broke your facade.

ben saw you hesitate. he gently stroked your wet cheek, his eyes dropping lower. "let me fuck you, doll... daddy's gonna take such good care of you. promise you'll be a good girl, hm?"

you shook your head in a panic reflex, biting your lips so hard you almost bled, your whole body shaking. "i... i'm a virgin, ben... no. please... don't."

ben froze. he closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. his jaw clenched.

fuck, you were untouched. that piece of info just made his desire explode to dangerous levels. the idea of being the only one, of completely corrupting your innocence, was the peak of everything he wanted. he opened his eyes, locking them onto yours with a predatory intensity. "virgin..." he rasped. "okay. listen to me, little girl... i’ll be careful, but you gotta to let me in. you want this, i know you do. let your man show you how it feels. accept it, baby?”

completely manipulated and driven by panic and the sweet ache you felt when he confessed his obsession, you ended up nodding your head, crying softly. you accepted.

ben smirked, savoring your surrender. he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, starting a tense, deep kiss, mixing his taste with your tears. his massive hand gripped your nape firmly while his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving dark hickeys on your soft skin. mid-kiss, his large hand gripped the hem of your shirt and, with one firm tug, yanked it over your head, tossing it onto the floor.

only then did his hand grip the back of your neck, his mouth dragging down to your throat, leaving dark bruises on your soft skin. you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and trying your best to stay quiet. now completely bare from the waist up, you shivered as ben moved lower, his hot tongue tracing down to your breasts. he took one pert nipple into his mouth, sucking hungrily while his other hand squeezed your opposite breast, leaving red marks under his touch.

"fuck, baby... your tits are so good," he growled against your skin. "perfect for daddy."

he continued down, licking your stomach slowly, making your entire body twitch and ache with anticipation. when he reached your hips, ben hooked his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, pulling them down your legs in one smooth motion and discarding them.

with you completely naked and vulnerable beneath him, your legs shook, but ben gripped your thighs firmly, forcing your hips open wide as he pinned himself between them. he looked up for a split second, admiring your flushed face and panting chest, before lowering his head and pressing his mouth straight against your untouched center.

the feeling of his tongue, hot and wet, against your sensitive skin made your hips tilt upward. you tried to close your legs out of pure bashful reflex, but his hands were like iron cuffs holding your thighs wide open, exposing all of you to him. ben started lapping from bottom to top, tracing your lips firmly, coating everything in his warm spit. the wet sounds his mouth made down there were loud in the silent room, making you die of embarrassment.

"no being shy now, yeah?" he muffled his words against your skin, his voice vibrating right on your clit, sending an electric shock through your spine. "answer me baby, you like having my mouth right here?"

you covered your face with your forearm, choking back a needy moan, tears still flowing but now mixed with a wave of pleasure you'd never felt before. "yes... yes, ben..." you confessed in a thread of a voice, your face burning. "please... keep going... it's so good."

hearing you beg like that, totally submissive to his control, was the exact fuel his ego and lust needed. ben caught your clit between his lips and started sucking hard, while the tip of his tongue flicked there in a fast, relentless rhythm. he alternated between licking your entrance and sucking your lips with a ravenous hunger, leaving you completely drenched.

and ben seemed determined to make it very clear how much he was enjoying finally getting what he wanted so badly. he proved it with small, muffled groans of satisfaction, his dedicated suction making wet noises fill the space, not to mention the way his fingertips dug into the skin of your hips in a clear demand for you to stay wide open.

"b—ben… this is so good. you're so good," you said softly between needy whimpers.

he started eating you out like he was starving, the wet sucking sounds getting even louder and driving you absolutely crazy.

your back arched with pleasure and your thin fingers gripped chunks of ben's hair with enough force to hurt, but he showed no bother and definitely didn't stop, only groaning and getting even more skillful with his mouth.

he pressed his lips hard against your clit, sucking intensely, making your hips twitch involuntarily on the couch. when he felt you were right on the edge, totally vulnerable and panting, he gripped your thighs tighter, moving his large fingers to massage your skin in circular motions.

slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes dark as they watched you writhe with your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your mouth.

realizing he'd stopped, you opened your eyes and looked down, meeting his green eyes gleaming as they stared at you. you blinked slowly, trying to hide the disappointment before asking: "b—ben? why did you—"

"what would happen if one of the boys woke up to your loud little noises, hm?" you heard ben comment, his voice raspy, cutting you off. he started using his thumb to stimulate you in slow, torturating strokes, almost like a caress. "y'know... they'd come down to see what the noise is, and then they'd find you here, exactly like this, all open and dripping for me. imagine that, baby. they'd see that the complaining little brat is nothing but a helpless little slut, yeah?"

ben spoke those filthy words while lowering his head again, pressing his mouth back into your wet pussy. he alternated slow sucks on your clit with wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, making you even more sensitive. the humiliation of his words and the real fear of someone coming down the stairs sent such a heavy jolt of adrenaline through your body that your pussy started throbbing. you were completely turned on by the danger.

in a reflex of pure shame and denial of what you were feeling, you shook your head, whining softly, but your own body betrayed your mind. unable to resist the pleasure, you ended up tilting your hips up, pushing your pussy against his lips, silently begging him to keep eating you out.

feeling the shift of your hips and the way you surrendered to his touch, ben stopped abruptly. he raised his face, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"am i right? answer me.” he commanded in a deep voice, holding both your thighs tightly to keep you still.

you just shook your head again, trying to hide your face with your arm, lacking the courage to admit out loud how much that humiliation was exciting you.

seeing your stubborn silence, ben didn't hesitate. he raised his heavy hand and brought it down in a sharp smack right against your pussy, making a loud slap echo in the quiet of the dark living room. the impact of his palm against your sensitive, slick skin made you jolt on the couch, whimpering from the mix of sting and pleasure the strike caused, drawing tears from your eyes.

"you know you are, baby," he whispered cruelly and softly, leaning back over your trembling body and tracing his fingertips over the tender skin. "you're a helpless little slut, hm? we both know it, doll."

"y'know what?" he kept talking in a raspy voice, bringing his face close to your cunt, his hot breath making your skin goosebump all over. "even if they showed up... i wouldn't be able to stop. fuck 'em all."

he slid his hands up your thighs, digging his fingers hard into your flesh, making his control over you clear.

"you're so hot, my love... so irresistible with this soaked pussy, begging for me, that i just don't give a rat's ass. i wouldn't care one bit if i had to fuck you right in front of them to make it crystal clear who you belong to. i'd keep burying my tongue in you while they watched their precious little girl cry and groan in my ear."

your eyes widened and you felt yourself get even wetter, your thighs twitching with arousal as you forced yourself to keep your legs open for him. ben smirked as he caught your reaction to his words, going back to biting and sucking the inside of your thighs, sliding his fingertips up and down between the slick folds.

"imagine, me fucking you good and your idiot friends walking in right then?" ben asked raspily, spitting right onto your swollen clit, rubbing his fingers over it with a wet noise, watching fascinated as the little mound twitched under his touch. "would you like them to see you getting fucked by me, hm? would you like them to see me using you however i want?"

you closed your eyes for a moment and your slender fingers gripped his hair tightly, forcing yourself to hold back a whimper at ben's dirty talk. just as much as your face burned with embarrassment at the things ben said with such natural ease, you felt an undeniable pleasure where your pussy was getting even wetter and hungrier for his touch.

"d—don't keep saying those things," you whined, rubbing your hands over your hot face, then propping yourself up on one forearm so you could watch him, your chest panting up and down non-stop.

you felt the moment ben chuckled softly, going back to sucking you, causing those sharp, wet, delicious noises, his short beard tickling as he made a point to rub his face against you.

little by little, your body started giving those signs that you were gonna come soon. it was getting hot and tingling in that familiar way, and you were rubbing your feet against the couch in agony.

"ben… i—i feel weird," you said alertly, your fingers tangling back into his hair so you could see his green eyes. "i'm gonna… something. please," you groaned confusedly, not knowing exactly what you meant or what you were feeling. you groaned, opening your legs even wider, and ben stopped sucking you, but he spit on your pussy to rub it with his fingers in quick, agile circular motions.

"you want me to make you come, but you know only pussies that belong to daddy get to come, don't you? is your pussy mine, doll?" those words were enough to make your legs twitch and your back arch, your eyes rolling back under your lids.

"answer me, doll, who does it belong to? does it belong to daddy?"

"yes! yes it is," you said in agony, and ben shook his head no.

"yes what? belongs to who?"

"to daddy! it belongs to daddy, ben. it belongs to you." a sharp, excited cry caught in your throat when ben, seemingly satisfied with your answer, went back to sucking you slowly, leaving you coated in his spit.

as ben sucked you, his cheeks were slicked with the mix of his saliva and the cum pouring out of you, and his green eyes were locked, watching with interest the pleasurable expressions on your flushed, sweaty face, your pink mouth open in tearful, desperate whimpers. he knew the exact moment you were coming when suddenly your delicate little body started shaking all over in beautiful little spasms, trying for all you were worth to pull away from the extreme stimulation and close your legs so ben would stop.

while the orgasm dragged out, you weren't even aware of how you kept whimpering "daddy, daddy, daddy..." non-stop. and ben was persistent, his strong hands firmly gripping both your thighs so you'd keep them open, stopping you at all costs from pushing him away and preventing him from getting more of your sweet taste directly in his mouth.

and with all that extreme stimulation and you slowly coming down, tears pooled in your eyes and you started swatting your hands against ben's shoulders, crying out for him to stop because you couldn't take any more.

he finally stopped, pulling away from you with a loud, wet pop, panting heavily, a few strands of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, his lips and beard glistening with spit everywhere, making quite a sight.

"you okay?" he asked carefully, and heard you whisper a yes. he leaned over your little body, practically covering you, propping both hands on the couch on either side of your head, starting to pepper kisses all over your face. "you sure?"

"uh-huh..." you said breathlessly, turning your face a bit more so he'd start kissing your mouth, tasting your own flavor on his lips.

"okay." ben whispered between the quick kisses.

he pulled back just a bit, enough to kneel between your open legs. calmly, ben gripped his massive, throbbing cock and pulled it out of his sweatpants, letting you see it right there in the dim living room. the sight of its size, gleaming slightly from being completely pre-wet, made you swallow hard. a pit in your stomach and a bit of fear took over your chest, making you shrug your shoulders against the couch.

noticing your hesitation, he tried to calm you down with a caress on your face. ben slotted his hips between your legs and you felt his cock brush against your wet entrance.

"it's okay, doll. look at daddy," he said in an extremely sweet, gentle voice, planting a wet kiss on your cheek.

"i don't know if i c-can take it, p-please don't do this."

you let out the words right before a whimper escaped your mouth from feeling his cock rubbing against you.

"you can, baby.” he said finally.

ben held his cock by the base and kept rubbing it up and down against you, feeling your entrance open every time he rubbed there. he knew he had to be careful, he really did. but he didn't want to, fuck. he was never careful when he fucked. he had a tendency to make it hurt, leave bruises, see the person cry until they couldn't take it anymore. but he had to try.

he noticed how hard it would be when he tried to put just the head of his cock into your tight opening, your body pushing him out at all costs. if he shoved it all in at once, he might end up killing you, damn it.

"fuck, try to relax." he said softly, running his fingers through your messy hair. "it won't hurt as much if you relax your body, okay? can you do that for me?"

you nodded slowly, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to his body like a koala.

ben tried one more time, having to look down, he very calmly started pushing just the head of his thick cock in, which could barely wait to shove the whole thing. you felt yourself stretch as ben slowly pushed, and in the same second, you let out a gasp mixed with a sharp cry, the kind where the sound gets cut off by a lack of air.

"fuck baby, you're so tight," ben whispered in your ear, feeling you scratch his back in pure desperation.

"ben!" you groaned his name way too loud, not even having half of him inside you yet. "take it out, p-please."

"i didn't even put it all in, baby," he said, laughing at your face which was contorted in pain. "you're gonna take it."

ben slid out of you, causing a wet suction sound. he grabbed both your legs and bent your knees, leaving you wide open and vulnerable. his hands held tight right in the crook of your knee and thigh, leaving you exposed and easy to enter.

you felt a wave of relief when you didn't have his weight hurting you anymore, even though you wanted it badly. and that relief completely vanished when ben rammed his entire cock into your tight heat.

you were caught off guard, totally off guard.

before you could let out the first cry of pain from the impact, ben lunged forward with his palm and clamped your mouth shut hard, completely muffling your sounds in the dark room.

ben buried his cock deep inside you with force, groaning raspy in your ear, feeling the tightness all around him.

"so tight, fuck," he groaned heavily, bending your legs even more.

he started taking deep, hard thrusts, making your entire body shake on the couch.

your eyes were wide open, staring at him, filled with tears, panic, and shock. while your trembling hands tried to push his rigid chest and your head shook no, a silent plea for him to stop.

but he was infinitely stronger and took advantage of every second of your weakness, using your little body like it was just a hole for his pleasure, taking out the hatred and desire he felt for you after all the fights you'd had since he was unfrozen.

"fuck, i needed this.” he growled against your ear, his voice straining from the physical effort as he drove deep, without a shred of mercy. "you gotta take this, baby. know how many times i imagined shutting your mouth like this? while i fuck you?"

you tried to scream and whine against his palm, but the sound came out totally smothered.

"this is for you annoying me, if you were a good girl, it wouldn't have to be like this.” he hissed cruelly, your spit running down his hand in your attempt to bite him. "but girls like you deserve to be treated like this, fuck. this is for you learn to respect me, got it? learn to respect your elders, slut.”

driven by the panic of being heard by the rest of the group in the house and the confusing, overwhelming pleasure that degradation caused down there, you stopped fighting. your arms fell weightless to the sides of the couch.

ben took his hand off your mouth, replacing it with his own lips in a calm kiss. "can you hear daddy? look at me, doll."

fuck, he was fascinated.

"it'll pass, alright? i promise, in a bit it'll pass."

ben started moving slowly, trying to ignore the urge to flip you onto your stomach and fuck you until you passed out from the ache.

"it hurts s-so much, d-daddy."

ben sealed his lips over yours again and started moving faster, your quiet whimpers slipping into his mouth.

"baby, you okay?"

the moment you nodded, ben didn't care about anything else. in one single motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, arching your backside way up.

you whined in fright, losing all your support and burying your face against the cushions, while you felt the cold air of the living room hit your bare, exposed skin. before you could even process the change, ben slotted right behind you, gripping your hips with a force that would definitely leave purple marks on your skin.

without giving you time to breathe or get used to the new position, he lined up his massive cock and buried it all at once, entering from behind with a dry, violent thud.

he started hammering you just the way he'd wanted since the moment you came down the stairs and showed up in front of him in those trashy little shorts. the movements were brutal and accurate, spilling pre-cum inside your tight pussy, feeling it squeeze around him and try to push him out at every turn.

the pain of the impact made your whole back arch, and your eyes widened in the dark. you opened your mouth to let out the scream trapped in your throat, but ben was faster: he reached forward, pulling your hair back hard to steady your head, and with his other palm, clamped his hand tight over your mouth again, completely muffling your crying.

your body was shoved forward every time ben slammed into you, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the couch fabric, making you whimper.

even with his hand trying to smother your mouth, your sharp cries and whimpers escaped between his fingers, echoing muffled and desperate through the quiet living room. ben heard the sound of your despair and smiled against your nape, completely turned on by how your body reacted to every blow.

"fuck, princess." ben could see perfectly his cock vanishing inside you. the obscene, wet sounds of his full balls slapping against your backside only egged him on to go faster, to rough you up. the sound echoed heavy in the dark living room, mixing with your ragged breath and smothered whines.

"you were made for this, dammit. to be ben's little puppy and get fucked by him, yeah? say it, little girl.” he ordered, delivering a loud, firm slap to your ass that left your skin stinging.

"i... i am...", you started to murmur, your voice cracking, cut off by the brutal thrusts he refused to stop giving.

"you're what, fuck? say it right, you slut.” ben insisted, his voice even raspier and more impatient. he held your waist with both hands now, digging his fingers into your skin with force, and gave a thrust so deep it made you curve your back, letting out a sharp cry that echoed through the room. "say it to daddy."

with your body already exhausted and your mind completely hazy from the overload of sensations, you looked at him over your shoulder and bit your lips, your heavy eyes trying to focus on his face in the dark. your legs started shaking and the feeling that you were gonna pass out scared you, the pleasure mixed with physical exhaustion leaving you totally without strength to hold yourself up.

looking for any kind of support so you wouldn't collapse on the couch, you leaned your back against ben's bare, sweaty chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thumping of his heart. you made an effort to turn your neck, looking over your shoulder, searching for his eyes. with your lips parted and a completely surrendered, needy look, you let your voice out real quiet:

"i'm your little puppy, daddy... i-i was made for you to use me. ben's little girl.” you finally managed to say, your eyes glistening as you looked at him.

in that exact instant, his huge hand grabbed your neck with a possessive grip, squeezing a bit. he yanked your body all the way back, slamming your back straight against his broad, bare chest, keeping you totally trapped and dominated, without stopping messing with you for a single second. the thrusts kept coming deep, rhythmic, and relentless, making your hips smack against his with a muffled, wet sound.

he leaned his face forward, burying his teeth into the side of your neck in a firm bite that made you let out a sharp gasp and goosebumped your entire body. "my dumb little puppy. daddy's favorite, y'know?"

"daddy. i-i..." your eyes rolled back when you felt ben's hands roughing up your chest, making you come all over again.

his heavy, calloused palms squeezed your breasts with brutal force, tugging at your sensitive nipples which were already sore from the friction of the couch. your entire body locked up in a violent spasm, your pussy squeezing so hard it trapped his cock in a suffocating grip while you melted completely all over again, whimpering quietly against his chest.

"tell me who you belong to, little one. say my name." your release dripped onto the couch and slicked ben's cock, which kept pounding into your sensitive heat. your body was limp, completely surrendered and shaking with every brutal blow he delivered from behind. "make daddy happy, baby. do it."

"i-i belong to d-daddy ben… i'm y-yours, yours, b-ben." you said, closing your eyes, your voice destroyed by crying and exhaustion, and your pussy burned, trying at all costs to push ben out of the tight heat.

you were so sensitive that every thrust felt like it was burning.

"mine. my little slut, daddy’s little puppy." he held your waist with his fingers sinking into your skin, pulling your hips hard against his.

he leaned his face right to your ear, his voice coming in a dragged, possessive growl.

"fuck, girl. i'm gonna cum." he whispered, squeezing your waist tight. "i'm gonna fill you all the way up with my cum, doll. can i? do you let daddy fill you all the way up, little girl?"

totally weak, crying quietly and lacking the strength to deny your man anything, you moved your head slowly, nodding against the cushion while letting out a needy, dragged-out groan.

"y-yes... daddy, please... cum inside me.” you begged in a thread of a broken voice, squeezing your eyes shut hard.

ben let out a heavy breath and delivered three final, hard thrusts, shoving his massive cock all the way to the hilt inside you. the force of the impact made your back arch and your eyes roll, completely losing your breath as his body locked tight against yours.

with a low, raspy growl that vibrated right in your back, ben pumped all his cum, deep inside you. giving you such an absurd feeling of fullness that your body started contracting in involuntary spasms of pure pleasure and exhaustion, squeezing his member while the fluid started to overflow and slowly run down your trembling thighs.

he kept pushing his hips to stretch out the climax, his cock still incredibly hard.

his body relaxed heavily over your back, his broad, sweaty chest rising and falling with a noisy, tired breath right next to your ear.

"doll?" he called calmly, his breath hitching. he stayed buried inside you for a few long seconds, feeling the heat and the tiny squeezes your body was still giving around his member.

"daddy..." you managed to say, your raspy voice cracking.

with a long sigh, ben finally started to pull away. when he slid his cock out of you, the wet sound and sudden emptiness made you let out a quiet whimper of pain, feeling your chafed entrance sting instantly.

he rubbed his cock against your ass, watching drops of his cum still dripping from the tip.

his warmth started to overflow and run in slow threads down your thighs, staining the dark couch.

"there you go, little doll... daddy's here. it's over now.” he murmured in his raspy, soft voice, pulling your trembling little body by the waist to lay you facing him in the narrow space of the couch.

his hand came up to your face, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead and wiping the traces of tears from your cheek with his thumb. he started giving you sweet, calm kisses all over your face, on the tip of your nose, and on your still-swollen lips.

"does it hurt a lot, baby?" he asked quietly, looking deep into your eyes.

"i-it hurts a bit, ben... you were really rough.” you confessed in a broken whisper, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, seeking the heat of his skin to calm down.

"i know, my baby. but you were a very good little girl for me. daddy's proud, y'know?"

feeling this tenderness from him after he'd hurt you made your eyes glisten and your cheeks heat up. you let out a tiny smile, completely forgetting the ache in your pussy.

"really, d-daddy?" you asked in a sweet whisper, with a very needy voice and your eyes shining in the dark, looking for approval. "you really thought i did good?"

"i did, doll. daddy's real proud of you.” he answered, amused by how completely surrendered you were and leaving a long kiss on your swollen lips. "you're my perfect little girl, yeah? you're daddy's girl?"

you nodded slowly, rubbing your face lightly against his bare chest, totally enveloped by that warmth and the sense of belonging that dominated your chest.

"yes daddy, i-i'm your little girl.” you murmured in a very needy, dragged-out voice, your eyes almost closing from pure exhaustion, but with a warm heart from being right there.

he squeezed you a bit tighter against himself, letting you listen to the steady thumping of his heart. his hand kept up a slow, constant caress in your hair, sliding down your arms to give you a gentle rub and calm you from the shock and physical stress.

after your breathing started going back to normal, lulled by the long caress ben was giving your hair, he gave a tender kiss to the top of your head and moved slowly on the couch.

"hold on, doll. i'll be right back.” he whispered in his raspy voice, getting up.

you curled your legs against your chest, feeling your body limp and your lower half stinging with the cold air of the room. in the dark, you watched ben walk to the bathroom. in a few minutes, he came back carrying a small towel, damp with water, and your clothes that he'd thrown on the floor.

he knelt back down on the edge of the couch, and with extreme gentleness, ben held your ankles and opened your legs slowly so you wouldn't jump from the touch. he started wiping with the towel carefully, cleaning the trail of mess mixed with the tiny bit of blood from your entrance that coated your thighs and your sore opening. every pass of the cloth brought immediate relief to the burning on your sensitive skin.

"alright, little doll.” he murmured after a few minutes of wiping your body, setting the towel aside. "tomorrow you take a shower, okay?"

he picked up your cotton panties. holding your hip with one hand to lift you slightly, he slid the soft fabric gently over your trembling legs, pulling the piece up carefully so it wouldn't squeeze your bruised area. next, ben took your shorts, slipping one foot in at a time, and pulled the elastic up to your waist, fixing the clothes on your body with total patience, as if he were taking care of a toddler.

lastly, he grabbed your shirt. he helped you sit up on the couch, propping your weight against his chest because your little body was still totally out of strength. you slid your arms through the sleeves and he pulled the cloth down, covering your nipples which still stung from his grips.

with you fully dressed and protected, ben smirked, satisfied to see his little girl comfortable again. he lay back down on the couch, pulling you by the waist so you'd rest your head directly on his bare, sweaty chest. he covered both of you with the blanket up to your chest.

you gathered the tiny bit of strength you had left and shyly tilted your face up, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and pressed your lips to his in a slow, wet kiss.

ben let out a low sigh, surprised by your sudden gesture, and his smirk grew, finding your attitude the most beautiful thing in the world.

after the little kiss, you quickly hid your face in the crook of his neck, snuggling even closer against that broad, protective chest. you threw your arm over his waist, holding onto his body as if the outside world didn't exist. you both knew perfectly well that in a few hours, the day would break and the others would come down the stairs and catch you two exactly like that: crashed on the couch, covered by the same blanket, and smelling like what you'd just done.

lulled by the steady rhythm of ben's heart and the sweet caress he wouldn't stop giving your hair, you finally let out a heavy sigh of relief and fell fast asleep, knowing you were completely safe in his arms.

a/n: hiii, i hope you guys liked this story as much as i did, cause it pleased me so much 🤭🤭 thank you so much to everyone who is following me and liking my stories, okay? you all live in my heart ♡

[ultraviolenclana]

i need you, i breathe you, i’ll never leave you!

summary: soldier boy saw you sleeping on the streets and decided he was gonna take care of you. now, tucked away in a house in the woods, you were his dirty little secret.

cw: 18+ dead dove do not eat, daddy kink, emotional dependency, toxic relationship, stockholm syndrome, family issues, manipulation, domestic violence, praise kink, degradation, obsession, violence, breathplay, dubcon.

wc: 6.5k

you were only eighteen when your mom kicked you out, after she started dating some idiot who didn't like you. you were survivin', it was hard, but you were still alive. you only ate when someone gave you money or restaurant leftovers. you slept on a dirty, old mattress in the back of a dark alley. after a week, you felt weaker, no strength to walk around askin' for food.

when soldier boy found you in that alley, left there, alone, you thought that’d be the end. he looked like a giant, and the fear paralyzed you.

"fuck, look at you," he muttered, the disgust in his voice wasn't at you, but at how they left you. "left here like trash. you got nobody, do you?"

you tried to pull back, but your back hit the cold wall. your lips trembled, but no sound came out. he knelt in front of you.

before you could process it, you felt huge, firm hands slide under your knees and back. he lifted you off that dirty mattress like you were made of paper. the contrast between the alley's filth and the heat comin' off him was shockin'. you were so small in his arms that your head just fell against his rigid chest.

"you're comin' with me," he declared, already walkin' out of the alley, ignorin' your shivers.

when the car stopped and he opened the door, the silence of the forest around the house was scary. soldier boy guided you inside with a firm hand on your back—not a push, but you felt like if you tried to run, he’d crush you before the first step.

as soon as you entered, the heat of the house hit your face, but it wasn't enough to stop your shakin'. the house was warm and cozy. he tossed the keys on the table and turned to you, still standin' near the door, rainwater drippin' from your dirty clothes and stainin' his rug.

"don't just stand there like a statue. sit down," he said, his raspy voice echoin' off the walls.

you walked with tiny steps to the dark leather sofa. sat on the very edge, knees tucked to your chest and arms around your legs, hidin' your face.

you couldn't stop lookin' at his hands while he took off his coat. hands you'd seen blurry on the news, stained with blood and dust from fallen buildin's. every move he made, every heavy step on the wood floor, made you shrink a bit more, buryin' your face in your knees.

ben stood in the middle of the room, starin' at you for a while. the silence was agonizin'. you felt the weight of his gaze, judgin' every inch of your shakin' body.

"fuck, you're dyin' of fear, aren't you?" he asked, and it wasn't really a question, just a fact that seemed to amuse and annoy him at the same time.

you didn't answer. no voice would come out. you just squeezed your legs tighter, closin' your eyes hard, hopin' if you stayed quiet, he'd forget you were there. but ben didn't forget. he took a step towards you and you let out a tiny gasp, buryin' your head between your knees.

ben sighed, a long, heavy sound, but he didn't seem mad.

"it's okay. i get it. you're scared. i won't force anythin' now," he muttered. "i gotta go out. you got nothin' here... no decent clothes, no food a normal person eats. i'm gonna get some things for you."

he walked to the door and stopped for a sec, lookin' at you over his shoulder.

"don't leave. it ain't safe for you out there, and i don't wanna have to hunt you down. stay here, and nothin'll happen to you. i promise."

when the door slammed and the engine sound faded, the silence became unbearable. you stayed there, motionless, for what felt like hours. loneliness mixed with trauma. every creak of the wood, every gust of wind, sounded like someone comin' to get you. your mind played the worst scenarios: what if he didn't come back? what if he left you there to die? or worse, what if he was comin' back to do to you what you saw him do to others on tv?

the fear consumed you. you started sobbin', a quiet, desperate cry, body rockin' back and forth. you felt small, lost, completely at the mercy of a monster.

more than an hour later, the car sound returned. the door opened and ben walked in carryin' bags. he was loaded with stuff: soft clothes, hygiene products, and real food. he stopped in the middle of the room when he heard you cryin'.

he dropped the things quickly on the counter and stepped towards you, face pinched in an expression tryin' to be soft, but still way too imposin'.

"hey, girl... what's it? i was only gone for an hour," he said, reachin' out to try and touch your face to wipe a tear.

the move was a trigger. you let out a low whimper of terror and, by instinct, started crawlin' back, draggin' yourself to the other side of the sofa. your eyes were wide, pupils dilated in pure panic, fixed on every move he made like he was gonna attack.

ben stopped. he slowly pulled his hand back, seein' you shake, almost fallin' off the cushion from fear. he let out a heavy sigh, but didn't look angry. he just stepped back, givin' you the space you were beggin' for with your eyes.

"it's okay. alright, i get it," he muttered, keepin' his hands visible. "i won't get close, hm? relax. i just wanted to help, but i'll stay here. it's okay."

he backed off and went back to the bags on the counter. he started takin' things out, one by one, speakin' in a flat, calm tone, like he was tryin' to tame a hurt bird.

"look... i didn't really know what you liked, so i got things that felt softest," he said, pullin' out clothes, underwear, socks. "and i got those smelly things women like... vanilla soap, shampoo, all that shit."

he put each item on the table, organizin' it all with a patience you never thought soldier boy would have. he showed the clothes, the soaps, and even some cookies and chocolates he thought you might like.

"i'll leave it all on the table, okay? they're yours. you can take a hot bath, put these on, and eat whatever you want. i'll be out on the porch smokin'. i won't come in till you're done, promise."

he gave you one last look, heavy, but without the malice or fury you knew he had. it was almost like he was satisfied seein' you safe, even if you were terrified of him. he turned and walked out the front door, leavin' you alone with all the new stuff.

you walked to the bathroom with shaky legs, holdin' the new clothes against your chest like a shield. the hot water helped wash away the dirt. every noise outside made you freeze under the shower, waitin' for the door to burst open. but nothin' happened.

when you came out, wearin' a hoodie that was huge on you, the smell of hot food filled the house. ben was in the kitchen, back turned, stirrin' a pot. the sound of metal and the sizzle of the fire were the only noises. you walked real slow, tryin' not to make a sound, and sat on the edge of the kitchen chair, keepin' your head down, eyes on your hands.

he came over and put a plate with rice, chicken, and potatoes in front of you. it was simple, but smelled amazing. he sat across from you and started eatin' his in silence. you stayed still. your stomach hurt from hunger, but the panic of makin' a wrong move was bigger. you didn't touch the silverware, just kept lookin' down, damp hair fallin' over your face.

"eat, girl. i didn't make this for it to get cold on the plate," he said, voice low but firm.

you didn't move. silence stretched for a few seconds, gettin' heavier, until you heard his fork hit the plate hard.

"i'm tryin' to be patient, but don't test me," he growled, and this time the authority made you shiver. "you gotta eat. you lookin' like a skeleton. now pick up the fork."

you stayed paralyzed, tears prickin' your eyes again. fear locked you up. ben let out an annoyed sigh and leaned over the table, his shadow coverin' you.

"look at me," he ordered. you raised your eyes slow, findin' his blue eyes locked on yours. "either you eat this shit on your own, or i'm gonna sit there, open your mouth, and shove every bit down your throat. you choose. i ain't lettin' you starve in front of me."

his tone left no doubt: he’d do exactly that. with hands shakin' so much the fork clinked against the plate, you took a bit of food. it was good. hot, seasoned, and delicious—somethin' you didn't expect from a man like him. you kept eatin', chewin' slow under his watchful eye. ben relaxed in his chair, watchin' your every move, and a tiny smirk appeared on his face.

"good girl," he murmured, goin' back to his food.

in the days that followed, he changed his strategy. he didn't force physical contact anymore and spoke as little as possible. meals became rituals of pure silence. you'd sit at the table and he’d be in front of you, the only sound being the silverware. you ate with your head down, still feelin' that chill down your spine whenever he shifted or sighed, but the fear was now quiet, swallowed with the food.

he didn't want to leave you alone in the room, so he started doin' his routine right there, in your presence, so you’d get used to him. he’d spend hours sittin' there, the strong smell of weed fillin' the air as he puffed on a joint with a lost look, or he’d be focused, rubbin' oil on the heavy metal of his shield.

the silence was absolute, broken only by the sound of metal being polished or his heavy breath. until, one afternoon, he stopped what he was doin' and stared at you for a long time.

"you mute?" he asked, his raspy voice cuttin' the air like a blade. "if you are, i'll find a way to get someone to teach us signs or whatever fuckin' thing they use nowadays."

you hesitated, heart hammerin', but eventually shook your head slow. it was your first sign of voluntary interaction.

ben gave a little smirk, blew a cloud of smoke to the side, and went back to the shield.

"look at that... we're makin' progress," he said, tone a bit lighter, almost amused. "at least now i know you talk. one step at a time, little girl. one step at a time."

the routine at the cabin had a new rhythm, but still fragile. you didn't run to the corners anymore when he entered, and you weren't scared he’d explode at you every second. everythin' was okay.

that mornin', ben showed up in the kitchen already in uniform. he looked at you for a moment while you stirred your tea, eyes down.

"gotta go, doll," he said, grabbin' the shield. "should be back at the usual time. behave."

as usual, you said nothin'. just felt the weight of his gaze before the door slammed and the forest silence returned.

the time he usually arrived passed. one minute, ten minutes, an hour. the silence of the house, once your refuge, started to feel suffocatin'.

did he get tired of you? did he have an accident? or worse, did he leave you there to die in that high-security prison where nobody could save you?

"sir?" you whispered for the first time, voice so low it almost got lost.

nothin'.

tears started fallin', hot and uncontrolled. you curled up on the sofa, huggin' your knees, sobbin' so hard your whole body shook. without soldier boy, you were just that vulnerable little girl again. you cried until your face felt numb, repeatin' his name in your head, beggin' for the door to open while the clock ticked through a night that felt endless.

it was almost two in the morning when the sound of tires on gravel finally echoed. the sound of the locks clickin' open was like a gunshot. ben walked in stumblin' a bit, the shield hittin' the doorframe.

he didn't expect the lights on. and he definitely didn't expect to find you.

he stopped, seein' you curled on the sofa. you looked even smaller than usual, a pile of shivers and ragged breath.

"fuck, doll... what are you still doin' up? should be sleepin'," he grumbled, voice raspier than usual, as he dropped the shield with a thud.

he came closer and heard your sobbin', that sharp, exhausted sound. when he saw your face, eyes so swollen you could barely open 'em and tear tracks on your cheeks, his body went tense. his annoyance from being stuck at the tower vanished, replaced by mute shock.

"hey, hey... look at me," he said, kneelin' in front of the sofa. his big hands, still dirty, held your knees. "what is it? what happened? someone try to get in here?"

you couldn't answer, just sobbed harder. you leaned forward, hidin' your face in his shoulder, wettin' his uniform with tears.

ben was still for a sec. it was the first time you sought his contact so desperately. he let out a long sigh, wrappin' his arms around you and pullin' you into his lap, sittin' on the sofa with you tangled in him.

"shhh... calm down. daddy's here. i'm here, okay?" he started rubbin' your back, a rough but genuine care. "i was late, girl. those shits at the tower held me up, had to fix a mess."

he squeezed you tighter, feelin' your heat and the way you gripped his uniform with small hands, like you were scared he’d evaporate.

"did you think i was gone?" he asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. he lifted your chin, forcin' you to look at him. "look at me. i'd never leave you alone, get it? never. you're my daughter now. my baby.”

you just nodded, sobs dyin' down as his scent wrapped around you. he spent the rest of the night there, on the sofa with you in his lap, mutterin' you were a silly girl for doubtin' him while wipin' your face with his thumb.

words still got stuck in your throat. you looked at your feet every time he entered your room. but he had a patience that seemed infinite. he’d sit on the edge of the bed and watch you with eyes that seemed to read your thoughts.

"did you eat everythin' i left, sweetheart?" he’d ask, voice low and vibratin'. you’d just nod, feelin' your cheeks warm up.

"wanna hear your voice. talk to me. was it good?"

you’d hesitate, playin' with the hem of your dress, until a whisper came out: "y—yes, sir. thank you."

slowly, one-word answers turned into conversations that lasted hours, where you told him about books or how the sun hit the window. he rarely stayed away more than two days, but every hour felt like forever. the moment the door opened, the fear of being left vanished and euphoria took over. you’d run down the hall and throw yourself against his chest.

"daddy! you're home!" you’d exclaim, buryin' your face in his neck, breathin' in his scent—it was your only oxygen.

he’d carry you to the sofa like you weighed nothin', keepin' you in his lap while he took off his coat. "miss me that much? what'd you do while i was out?" and you’d start talkin', desperate to keep his attention.

he felt a sick satisfaction knowin' you were only his. he took care of every detail: he made the food, he checked the bath temp, he scrubbed your skin gently, he combed your hair. he even knew the color of the panties you wore, fuck.

nobody in the world knew you existed. ben was obsessive; the mere thought of someone findin' that cabin and lookin' at you made his blood boil. it wasn't shame, it was property instinct. he knew the world out there was wicked, full of people who’d use your powers and destroy your sweetness. he swore he’d keep you away from those "animals." in his head, if anyone had the right to control you, mold you, or even destroy you, it was him. just him.

ben liked thinkin' you’d never see anyone but him. after he saved you from the streets, took you home, fed you—he knew he was bein' a good person. but he also knew that from the moment he locked you in that house, he’d ended your life.

when you stay with one person for a long time, when you forget everyone else and only have contact with one person, no outside world, you get attached. he knew how dependent on him you were. you lived for him, breathed for him. you were addicted to him and it was sick. when you're addicted to drugs, there's a cure. almost impossible, but with effort, you can.

but what about a soul addiction? when you’d rather die than live without the person you love, there’s no cure. it ain't easy to get attached to someone, it really ain't. but you were naive, vulnerable, and he seemed like a god who saved you.

he knew he’d taken advantage of your fragility, but felt no remorse. he loved you in an insane way, a love that’d rather see you wither in an isolated house than shine anywhere else.

at the start he was so attentive, he took care of you, had all the patience in the world. he didn't force you to talk for the first three weeks. he didn't force you to eat for the first few days. he waited for your shyness and fear to go so he could be himself, to show how bad and sick he could be.

soldier boy was an aggressive person. he was completely manipulative, aggressive, an egocentric piece of shit. he liked knowin' you were dependent, that you breathed for him. he knew it was sick, but didn't care. the idea that if he left you, you’d get sick, excited him, fuck.

he’d never leave you, of course not. but sometimes at night, when he couldn't sleep, he’d go walk in the yard, smoke weed, drink, everythin'. and then he’d always come back to your bedroom, findin' you sleepin' so calm in a monster’s bed. 'cause he was a monster.

he’d touch himself thinkin' about how you’d look if he left you, how you’d stop eatin', bathin', doin' basic needs. he thought about how your body would merge with the bed 'cause you wouldn't even have the strength to get up. he knew you’d degrade yourself if he left, anyone who knew your relationship would think the same.

he knew if he left for months and then showed up, you’d run to his arms, apologizin' for not being good enough. poor little girl. it wasn't your fault he was a sick fuck.

"why do you trust me so much? i could kill you right now," he whispered while lookin' at you sleep.

but he loved you.

he never loved anyone like he loved you. the love he felt was dirty, sick, problematic, toxic, and totally insane. but it was pure. a pure love. and you’d never know the strength of it.

he’d watch you sleep and feel an insane urge to crush you against his chest just to make sure no atom of air got between you. the glint in his eyes when he saw you totally surrendered after he’d filled you completely was borderline religious.

and you really would never know the full strength of that love. you’d never understand that, for ben, keepin' you locked in that house was the greatest act of devotion he could imagine. in his head, the world wasn't worthy of seein' you. he destroyed you every day, takin' your autonomy and identity.

he’d bury his face in your hair, smellin' the scent he chose for you, and close his eyes hard. it was a love that burned, that hurt, that accepted nothin' less than your whole soul. "my little girl... you're the only thing that's good in this hell of a world."

you’d just snuggle closer, feelin' protected, never understandin' that the same force that saved you from the alley was the force keepin' you in the dark forever. ben's love was a life sentence.

sometimes, the loneliness of that huge house and the isolation made you lose it. frustration bubbled up and you’d end up being bratty, talkin' back or refusin' the food he made with so much love. but ben wasn't the type to scream; he preferred much crueler ways to put you back in your place.

when you crossed the line, he simply gave you the silent treatment.

he’d go upstairs or leave the house without a word, lockin' all the doors and leavin' you in total vacuum. you’d cry, sob loud and bang on his bedroom door, beggin' for a look, a touch, any sign he still loved you. the despair of being ignored by your "daddy" was worse than any physical punishment. you’d kneel in the hall, askin' for forgiveness between tears, sayin' you’d be a good girl, until he finally opened the door, looked you up and down with cold contempt and said he’d only talk when you learned your place.

even with the chaotic routine among the seven, ben did the impossible to see you whenever he could. he lived under constant pressure, needin' to keep the hero facade and make sure homelander, or anyone at vought, didn't suspect his girl’s existence. every second away was a torment for his possessive mind, imaginin' if you were okay or if someone was prowlin' his territory.

when he finally escaped the cameras and meetings, he’d get home exhausted, but blood boilin' with longin'. he’d walk in, see you there, eyes still swollen from cryin' over his silence, and his anger turned into sick satisfaction. he’d pick you up, let you nestle in his chest and whisper that only he could forgive you, that only he kept you safe from that wicked world. he was your world, and he made sure you never forgot.

these moments were his favorite. after the tension of actin' like the perfect hero, ben just wanted the silence of that house and your absolute devotion. he’d settle in the worn leather chair, pullin' you to his lap like a baby, and you’d nestle there, small and submissive, suckin' his thumb by instinct for comfort while listenin' to him talk.

"those idiots at the tower don't know nothin', doll," he’d mutter, voice vibratin' in his chest. "homelander thinks he runs everythin', but he's just a brat needy for attention."

he’d run his free hand through your hair, nails light on your scalp, talkin' about things he bought for you. sometimes a new dress, a candy he saw, or some decor for your room.

"daddy, look what i saw today!" you’d interrupt, excited, grabbin' the phone he gave you.

you’d show silly cat videos or some dumb internet trend you saw during the hours of solitude. ben looked at the screen with funny contempt, mutterin' how "technology made people stupid," but he heard every word.

he trusted you with that phone. he knew your emotional dependency was so deep you’d never use it to ask for help or escape.

"what a stupid thing, baby," he’d say, laughin' low and movin' his thumb just to replace it with his lips in a kiss on your forehead. "but if you liked it, i like it too. what else did you see while daddy was out workin'?"

you’d spend hours tellin' him about movies, detailin' every scene, and he’d look at you with possessive adoration, knowin' he was the only audience you’d ever have.

sometimes when he had a bad week, he’d fuck you—it wasn't always. actually, he rarely had sex with you; he just liked havin' you submissive, obeyin' him, devoted, receivin' his affection. he liked mistreatin' you to see if you’d take it all for daddy, 'cause you were such a good girl.

he liked fuckin' you with his fingers until you came and got all needy. he delighted in how your little cunt always seemed tighter, strugglin' to fit his calloused fingers, squeezin' 'em like you were beggin' for more.

ben loved seeing you go into despair, makin' you humiliate yourself, askin' please, whimperin' and beggin' for him to ease that ache. it was so good, the feelin' of being filled by his fingers, his cock, his tongue.

sometimes, after someone annoyed him—usually homelander, that spoiled crybaby. he’d lose the little patience he had and vent on you. he didn't hit you to break you, he really thought he was bein' "gentle," but you were too sensitive. any rougher squeeze, any slap to educate you or silence your cry, already left a vivid mark on your skin.

ben was standin', broad chest heavin', every breath soundin' like a muffled growl. in his twisted head, the way he tossed you on the bed and the slaps to stop your cry were quiet acts. but he forgot you were made of porcelain and him of steel.

ben looked at you, curled on the edge of the bed, shoulders shakin' while you tried to cover the bruises bloomin' on your thighs and arms with small hands. purple marks, finger-shaped.

his silence was terrifying. he didn't apologize; ben didn't know how. instead, he just watched his own destruction with a dark gaze.

"fuck, look at you," he started, voice raspier than usual, not a drop of apology.

you shivered, sobs gettin' shorter while lookin' at him with red eyes. the fear in your look was what always brought him back, reminded him you weren't some supe, but somethin' fragile he swore to protect, even from himself.

he stepped forward and you shrank more, eyes closed waitin' for another blow. but instead, felt his weight sink the mattress. with a hand still shakin' from residual rage, he held your ankle and pulled you slow to him, ignorin' your gasp.

"look what you make me do, doll..." he whispered, calloused fingers tracin' a bruise on your leg. the touch was, this time, scary gentle. "why don't you stay quiet? why you gotta cry and make me more annoyed? i don't wanna hurt you, fuck. you know i lose my patience and you still irritate me."

he reached out and, with a force that still made you shiver, pulled you to his lap. you didn't resist; had no strength. he settled you against his broad chest, wrappin' you with the arms that just marked you.

"i’m not a bad guy, baby. you know that," he whispered, startin' to run his hand through your hair. "i didn't wanna hurt you. i never want to. but you gotta learn to stay quiet when i'm stressed. if you were a good girl and just met me with a smile, none of this would’ve happened, you brat."

he leaned and kissed the top of your head, down to your forehead. his hand went to the mark on your arm, tracin' the outline.

"daddy was just stressed. my day was hell and you ended up bein' the target 'cause you were stubborn," he continued, voice gettin' sweeter. "shhh... stop cryin'. daddy already forgave you for annoyin' me. now i'll take care of you, okay?"

he started kissin' the marks he left, somethin' he always did to clear his conscience. he squeezed you tighter, hidin' his face in your neck.

"nobody in the world loves you like i do, even when you make me lose control," he muttered.

you sniffled quiet, hidin' your face in his chest, acceptin' the care and the guilt he threw on you.

"i'm sorry, daddy..." you whispered, voice choked. "sorry for not being good to you today. i... i didn't wanna annoy you."

he lifted your chin, forcin' you to look. his gaze wasn't fury anymore, just sweet.

"i'll always forgive you, baby," he said, givin' a tender kiss on your nose before a soft kiss on your lips. "now forget it. stop shakin'. i'm gonna take care of you."

ben was fully aware of the devastatin' strength in his veins; he knew he was a human tank and you were just flesh and bone. he knew if his control failed by a millimeter, if he forgot for a sec you weren't made of metal, he’d kill you by accident.

the idea of findin' you lifeless, breakin' the neck of the only person he really loved, was the only thought that made his stomach turn. he didn't like thinkin' about it. buried it deep.

ben still remembered the first time he fucked you.

remembered how you looked tiny under him, eyes wide and flooded with tears of fear and pleasure while he claimed every inch, remembered how you cried, sobbin' loud against his chest while he pounded you so hard the bed creaked and hit the walls.

the start was a shock. you’d never been touched, and his brutality left no room for subtleties. mid-fuck, ben pulled you up, pressin' his lips to yours in an aggressive kiss while his hand closed hard around your throat. he squeezed enough for your eyes to water while you struggled for air.

he pulled back just millimeters, keepin' the pressure, watchin' your despair with a sadistic glint.

"can't breathe?" he asked, voice low, vibratin' against your face.

you shook your head frantically, hands grabbin' his wrists, tryin' to ease the grip. in response, he gave a predatory smile and delivered a thrust so deep you felt him hit the bottom of your womb.

"shhh," he growled, goin' back to fuckin' you with renewed fury. "stop the crying, fuck! i want you to understand your life depends on me now."

"ben... please... it hurts... you're hurtin' me," you screamed, voice raspy, but body reactin' with spasms of pleasure you were lovin' to feel.

"i know it hurts, baby," he said, landin' a slap that made your head turn. "this is so you never forget daddy did this. look at you... all messed up, crying, begging… my little girl."

when he saw you were losin' consciousness, body gettin' too limp and gaze fadin', he let go of your neck and slowed down. pulled you into a crushin' hug, coverin' your face with sweet, damp kisses.

"shhh, doll... calm down... daddy's here," he whispered in your ear, voice suddenly soft, wipin' tears with his lips. "look at you... takin' it all so well. i'm so proud of my girl. you're so strong for me, y'know?"

you got all giddy under those words, mind foggy. you sought his care, nestlin' in his chest, lettin' him do what he wanted.

"am i... am i your good girl, ben?" you asked, exhausted.

"yes, my baby. you're doing so well," he answered, thrustin' again, but with a slow, torturous pressure that took you to orgasm in seconds. you came hard, body shakin', and he continued, no rest, stimulatin' you till you were just a pile of shakin' flesh.

even with the pain and shock, you were in absolute surrender. ben still felt your legs wrapped tight around his waist, keepin' him there, ensurin' he didn't leave you for a second.

"that's it, that's my girl," he growled low, feelin' your cunt squeeze him with a despair that drove him crazy. "you're so tight, fuck... tailor-made for daddy. i'm gonna use you so much, leave you so full of me."

he held you against him with brute force, arms crushin' you while he finally came deep inside, feelin' you squeeze him in a last try to contain that invasion.

"that's it love... i want your little pussy dripping my cum."

after the orgasm passed, he didn't move. stayed there, heavy and hot, enjoyin' the feel of you warmin' him. he stroked your skin with that huge hand, feelin' your shivers die down, while moonlight hit the bruises he just made.

"i love you so much, baby," he murmured, kissin' your nose with a tenderness that gave chills after such violence. "nobody's ever gonna touch you like this. nobody's ever gonna get where i get. you're mine, fuck."

and as he carried you to the bath right after, washin' you with that excessive, almost manic care, he looked at the purple on your neck and thighs with sick pride.

at the end of the day, you were soldier boy's best-kept secret, marked inside and out by his absolute will. he raised you in that house, moldin' every thought and makin' you believe he was a good person, that isolation was love and that house was your only true home. to him, possessiveness, bruises, and control were just how he expressed the love he felt—a sick love, but one he swore was your only salvation.

nobody could know. none of the seven, no executives, nobody. you were the biggest secret he kept in decades. he knew the second someone found out, they’d use you to get to him.

while in those borin' meetings, sittin' at that cold table and endurin' homelander complainin' like a spoiled baby, ben's mind was miles away. didn't even hear about marketing or approval ratings; only thought of you.

imagined how you were: if you were on the sofa wearin' one of his old shirts, if you missed his heat, or if you were nappin'. the thought of you there, locked up, waitin' like a good girl, was the only thing keepin' him from blowin' everyone’s heads off. he counted minutes to get out of the spotlight and back to his girl.

he got agonized when away too long. bein' away was like havin' a limb ripped off. he hated vought, hated the halls, hated those supe idiots, hated people, but above all, hated that you were home, out of his sight.

at first, he’d find a way to escape. intimidated assistants, ignored calls and went home for a day or two just to check if you were where he left you. but the schedule got tighter, and days away piled up. for him, it was hell.

he felt a sick pleasure thinkin' you’d get sick with longin', that your body would wither like a flower without sun if he wasn't there to water you. but paranoia consumed him too. couldn't stop wonderin': were you eatin' right? or cryin' so much you forgot? were you readin' the books he bought, seein' the movies? what were you doin'? fuck, fuck, fuck.

needed to know every second. if you were on the porch, in his bed smellin' the pillow, watchin' videos, if you’d peed, felt pain, nausea. this agony led him to do what he swore he’d never do: give in to a phone.

when you showed him things, he acted like it was a useless alien artifact. grumbled, tossed it aside, said "in my time, you looked in the face or waited for the mailman." ben started considerin' maybe that shit wasn't a total waste. the idea of 24/7 contact started itchin' his mind. realized with a phone, he’d know exactly what you were doin', whenever he wanted.

he’d sit on the sofa, with those huge hands that crushed skulls, tryin' not to break the screen while you guided his fingers. you in his lap, explainin' how to open messages, send audio, use emojis. ben let out raspy laughs when you got excited 'cause he finally sent a "hi" with a heart. he faked contempt, but truth was he was fascinated by your joy in talkin' from afar.

"you're so silly, sweetheart," he’d say, squeezin' your waist while watchin' you type test messages.

now, in meetings, endurin' homelander’s ego or ashley’s plans, his phone vibrated discreetly. didn't just want to know if you were okay; wanted details. wanted to know your day, what you felt, deepest thoughts. still a bit clumsy respondin', but tried his best just to talk to you.

"baby, did you eat?" he’d ask around lunch.

"yes daddy, i ate cake."

"no, no, baby, cake ain't enough. i want you healthy. be a good girl and eat right."

"baby, won't make it back today."

"wish i was there with you."

"how i send a photo in this shit?"

"baby, want me to bring ice cream?"

"cant stop thinking about my little doll."

"let me see you."

you’d smile, feelin' the happiest person. he was really tryin'. you giggled imaginin' him with fingers crushin' the screen. he’d stay there, lookin' at the three dots of your typin' like his life depended on it. agony eased when he saw your reply, but the desire to be present, smell you, see you melt when he touches you—never vanished. the phone was just his way to ensure his best secret stayed exactly that: his, and nobody else’s.

one day, he walked in holdin' a small plastic carrier with a care that wasn't usual.

your eyes widened, speechless.

"daddy… what's that?" you whispered, approachin' slow.

he let out a heavy sigh, lookin' a bit embarrassed, which was rare. put the box on the coffee table and opened the grate.

"you complain the house is too quiet when i'm gone," he said, raspy voice, not lookin' in your eyes. "found this thing near the tower. was alone. thought... whatever. at least he’ll watch you while i'm out."

from the box came a white ball of fur, with huge curious eyes, lettin' out a tiny meow. a cat.

you looked at the kitten, then at the most dangerous man in the world, standin' there with arms crossed and an expression of "don't make a big deal of it."

"you brought... a cat?" you felt tears. "soldier boy brought a kitten home?"

"don't start," he grumbled, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch almost into a smile. "if he scratches the sofa, he's gone. and if he jumps on the bed while i'm fucki'— hm, it's yours. so you don't feel so alone when i ain't here."

you threw yourself in his arms, a happy scream, and he held you firm, hidin' his face in your neck. fuck, he was a monster to the world, a sick piece of shit, but there, seein' you melt over a little animal he rescued, he felt that was the closest he got to bein' a good person.

in the end, his sick love was what kept you alive, and your dependency was what fed his obsession, keepin' your house as a universe where only two survivors existed. fuck, and he’d never let that change.

a/n: this is only my 3rd fic and i’m still getting used to everything, so please forgive any mistakes! i also wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s been liking my other stories. it really means a lot to me, u have no idea. feedbacks and ideas are always welcome too! thanksssss for reading!!! 💟💟💟

[pienjoshigomi]

so Ben is canonically pro-choice (even if for... questionable reasons) and that just might make him woker than half the cast

[ultraviolenclana]

go ahead and cry, little girl.

summary: after an ugly fight with your father, you move in with your boyfriend and his dad, ben. the problem is that ben starts taking care of you the way you've always wanted, with the kind of paternal affection you never had.

cw: soldier boy/ben x reader. dead dove do not eat —smut 18+, daddy kink (daddy, dad), praise kink, dubcon, fauxcest (?), degradation, dirty talk, creampie, manipulation, daddy issues, corruption, name calling (baby, slut, doll, kid, daughter, little one), cheating.

word count: 10k

you didn't know what to expect when your boyfriend, david, called you to spend sunday lunch at his father's house.

"it's just a lunch, love," he said, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. "he's gonna cook something, it's no big deal. i wanted you guys to get to know each other."

so you accepted the invitation.

"he's very... quiet," david warned when you got out of the car. "don't be scared. hm— if he makes any comment you don't like, tell me."

you nodded, your heart racing a little. you were always nervous with parents. parents, in the plural, 'cause your own was never very present. there was something in older men that put you in a state of alert: desire to please, to be seen, to hear that you were a good girl.

david opened the gate and entered the house without knocking. "dad? we're here."

the living room was large, with dark leather sofas and an off fireplace. in an armchair leaning near the window, a man looked up from a newspaper.

ben.

david's dad was different from what you imagined. brown hair with some gray strands, well trimmed beard, strong arms squeezing the black t-shirt he wore.

"hello, darling," he said, his voice deep and soft at the same time. he got up, and you realized that he was taller than he appeared sitting. "david talks a lot 'bout you."

you smiled, trying not to show the chill in your spine that that evaluating look, but not intrusive, caused you. "hi, sir. it's a pleasure to meet you."

"ben," he corrected, extending his hand. his palm was hot, his fingers long, his grip firm but not overwhelming.

you nodded, keeping the sensation of his touch on your hand long after letting go.

"i'm going there to check the food," david announced, already walking to the back of the house. "dad, don't scare her."

ben gave a low laugh, those honey-colored eyes never leaving your face. "don't believe any of the things he said 'bout me."

you laughed unintentionally, a silly, nervous laugh, and looked at the floor. "he said that y—you are quiet, actually."

"just that?" he asked, sitting back in the armchair and pointing to the sofa next to him.

"hm... actually, yes," you said, settling down carefully, adjusting the dress on your knees.

the corner of ben's mouth rose in an almost smile.

"my son knows a lot 'bout me, then." he crossed one leg over the other, resting his chin on his hand, and you felt the weight of his attention as if you were the only interesting thing in the room.

"you're beautiful," he said, and the compliment fell so natural that it took you a second to understand. "david didn't lie 'bout it."

your cheeks warmed up. "oh— thank you."

"how old are you, daughter?"

the word came outta his mouth with such crushing naturalness. you froze, feelin’ the blood drain from your face before rushin’ back in a burning heat to your cheeks. daughter. that word, said in that raspy, authoritative voice, hit every single daddy issue you ever had right on the head. you just stood there, kinda spacey, tryna process how a stranger could leave you this shaken with just one word.

"nineteen," you finally managed to get out, your voice a lil higher than usual.

he let out a short sigh, almost a huff of a laugh. "nineteen, hm? guess i’m gonna have another kid to look after 'round here, then." he said, gettin' up from the couch and noddin' for you to stand up too.

you opened your mouth to protest, to say you were a grown woman and didn't need a sitter, but ben laughed again. it was a deep, comfy, and terribly attractive sound.

"relax, i’m just messin’ with you," he said, steppin' aside to let you pass, but keepin' his eyes locked on yours. "i know how to take real good care of my son, sunshine. i’ll know how to take real good care of you, too."

he didn't wait for your answer, just pointed to the kitchen with a nod, but the promise in those words kept echoin' in your mind. the way he said he’d "look after" you. it hurt—in a confusing, bittersweet way—to hear that from someone who wasn't your dad.

late afternoon, when the sun was already low, you offered to help clear the plates. david went to get more ice. in the kitchen, while you were lathering up a sponge, ben came in behind you.

"leave that," he said, stoppin' by your side, too close for comfort, too close to be a coincidence. "david can do it later."

"i don't mind," you muttered, scrubbin' a plate.

ben leaned against the counter next to you, arms crossed. "he's lucky, you know?"

"who? david?"

"david, yeah." ben’s gaze dropped to your neck, where a strand of hair had escaped your clip. "girls like you are rare."

you stopped washin' the glass, feelin' your heart beat so loud you were sure he could hear it. "girls like me?"

"david talked a lot 'bout you. he said you were a shy girl, but extremely polite and sweet." he grabbed a dish towel and held it out to you. "i see that in you."

you dried your hands on the towel, fingers shakin' a bit. ben didn't take his eyes off you.

"if i had a daughter," he said, low, like it was a secret, "i'd want her to be just like you."

you held your breath.

you looked into his eyes and felt somethin' strange open up in your chest. it wasn't attraction, not exactly. it was more like recognition. like he’d seen somethin' in you that no one—not your father, not david—had noticed before.

"thank you," you whispered, out of breath.

he smiled. a small, intimate smile.

"come on," he said, pullin' away from the counter and placin' a light hand on your back, guidin' you back to the living room.

and his palm, even through the thin fabric of your dress, left a warm trail.

˚꩜⋆

every time you went to spend the weekend there, it was the same old story. david’d pick ya up, y'all would order some food, but at some point he’d always get distracted — hoppin' in the shower for a long soak or gettin' stuck on some call. and it was always durin' those moments that ben would show up.

one saturday afternoon, you were in the kitchen sippin' some juice while david was upstairs in the bathroom. ben walked into the room with that presence that just seemed to make the walls shrink. he caught your eye and gave ya that smirk that always made your stomach do flips.

"why are you in here alone?" he asked.

you felt your cheeks burn instantly, looking down at the glass in your hand. "david’s... finishing up his shower, mr. ben."

"told you to call me ben, kiddo." he took a step closer, the scent of his cologne getting stronger. he noticed how you gripped the glass, the way you avoided his eyes out of pure nerves.

ben thought your shyness was the most adorable thing ever. he saw how flustered you got around him, but he didn't call you out on it; he just leaned against the counter, chatting about how your week had been. he was so attentive, so focused on every word you said, that for a sec you almost forgot david was even upstairs.

one time david felt sick and couldn't drive you home. you felt bad for not being able to look after him, but you had to get back.

"my dad’ll take you, babe... i'm so sorry," david mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

you felt that instant knot in your stomach. the idea of being trapped in a car for twenty minutes with ben was terrifying.

you went downstairs and found him already with the car keys in his hand.

"ready to go, kid? the boy can’t even stand up straight." he said, opening the door for you.

the beginning of the ride was buried in heavy silence. you stared fixedly out the window, hands clutching your backpack straps on your lap, feeling the scent of tobacco and mint fill the space. you were dying of embarrassment, not knowing what to say.

"you don't gotta be so shy," he said, his raspy voice breaking the silence. he didn't take his eyes off the road, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. "i don't bite. unless you forget your seatbelt."

you bit your lip nervously, apologizing before clicking the belt into place. slowly, he started picking up conversations with you. he asked what you thought of the house, if david was treating you right, and his tone was so paternal and calm that you started to relax.

"what about your studies? david says you always got your nose in a book. what’s your major?"

"psychology," you replied, and before you knew it, you were talking about the theories you were studying, how the internships were exhausting but worth it.

ben listened with absolute attention. he didn't interrupt, just let out an "hm" or asked a smart question that showed he was actually interested. it was different from talking to david, who sometimes got distracted mid-explanation. ben seemed to want to soak up every word.

when the car finally pulled up in front of your house, he didn't unlock the doors right away. he killed the engine, and the silence of the empty street made the atmosphere heavy again, but in a more intimate way.

"you're a very smart girl, your parents must be real proud of you," he commented, turning his body in the seat to face you.

you found yourself telling him about your parents, how your relationship with your dad was a bit distant and how you missed your mom, who passed away when you were a teen. you talked more than you intended, lulled by the dim light of the dashboard and his understanding gaze.

he let out a low sigh and reached out. you expected a friendly pat on the shoulder, but he slid his large, calloused fingers across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn't even noticed had fallen. his thumb stroked your skin so slowly it made your heart skip a beat.

"i'm sorry about that, my girl," he said, his voice sounding like dark velvet. "a man who has a daughter like you and chooses to be distant... he has no idea what he's missing. it's a waste. and your mom, i'm sure she’d be proud of the amazing girl you are."

you looked down, feeling your face flush, but he wouldn't let you hide. he leaned in closer, invading your personal space, and held your chin gently but with a firmness that said he was in control.

"look at me," he ordered softly. you obeyed, meeting those green eyes that now seemed even more intense. "if things ever get too tough... if you feel like you got no one to talk to or if you just want a place to cry without having to explain anything to anyone, you don't gotta be ashamed to come find me, you get it? i'm here for that. you don't have to be strong all the time."

"thanks, ben. really... i needed to hear that," you replied, giving a shy smile, feeling your face heat up from his attention.

"no need to thank me, kid. david's lucky to have you, and i'm glad you're part of our lives now," he said in a low, calm voice. he backed off a bit, putting his hand back on the wheel and unlocking the doors with a soft click. "get some rest, kiddo. i want you well."

"goodnight, ben." you said, grabbing your bag and opening the door.

you stepped out of the car with shaky legs, but with a warm feeling in your chest. ben stayed there watching you leave with a protective gaze.

˚꩜⋆

the fight was ugly.

it didn't start out ugly, it just started outta nowhere, like it always did. you were in the kitchen, washin' the dinner dishes, when your father walked in with that heavy, draggin' step. the smell of booze got there before he did.

"you think this is a hotel or somethin'?" he asked, his voice slurred, eyes bloodshot.

"i'm washin' the dishes, dad."

"washin' the dishes." he laughed, a nasty, sharp sound. "washin' the dishes in my house, eatin' my food, and you still think you can go out with that kid the whole weekend?"

you turned off the faucet, fingers white from squeezin' the sponge so hard. "david isn't a kid."

"he's not a kid?" your father yelled, his spit landin' on your arm. "that playboy? you think he's not gonna dump you?"

it hurt. 'cause your father knew exactly where to strike.

"he likes me," you said, voice tremblin'. "he respects me."

"respect?" your father stepped closer, so close you could smell the beer on his breath. "respect is what you don't have for me, you ungrateful girl. i spend all day workin', i come home and you're gone, don't even leave a plate of food—"

"you only come home drunk!" you exploded, and that was the last straw.

your father's hand flew.

it wasn't an open slap, it was his fist, clenched, hittin' your shoulder and shovin' you against the counter. the edge of the sink hit your ribs and you let out a muffled scream, eyes burnin' with tears.

"get outta my sight," he spat, kickin' a chair that was in his way. "go to your room, get lost, i don't wanna look at your face."

you didn't wait to hear it twice.

you ran to your room, that tiny little space in the back with a mattress on the floor and your clothes piled on a plastic chair, and closed the door. locked it. pressed your back against the wood like it could hold the whole world out.

the tears came in waves.

and the only person who came to mind was david.

you grabbed your phone with shakin' fingers, found his name on the list, and hit "call" before you could think.

he picked up on the second ring. "babe? everything okay?"

you tried to speak, but only a choked sound came out, half-sob, half-gasp.

"babe?" his voice changed, sounded alarmed. "what's wrong? what happened?

"my dad," you managed to choke out. "we fought. he hit me— i can't stay here, david, i can't—"

"calm down, calm down, breathe." david spoke fast, but steady. you heard noise in the background, him movin' around, probably already grabbin' his keys.

"i'm comin' to get you."

"david, it's two in the mornin'—"

"fuck it. i'm comin' to get you. thirty minutes, tops. just don't open the door for him, lock yourself in and wait."

you sobbed, relieved. "okay. okay."

"everything's gonna be fine. wait for me."

he hung up.

you packed your stuff in the dark, eyes swollen and breathin' still shaky. one backpack. two, actually. the biggest ones you had. pants, shirts, jackets, and an old teddy bear you'd kept since you were a kid.

and when you heard the engine on the street, you almost cried again.

david was in the car, passenger door open, face lit up by the interior light. he ran out when he saw you crossin' the sidewalk with the bags, grabbed 'em from your hands, and tossed 'em in the back seat.

"get in," he said, kissin' your head. "get in, babe."

you got in.

the drive was silent. david drove with one hand on the wheel and the other on your knee, squeezin' it every now and then, like he was sayin' i'm here. you stared out the window, tears dryin' on your face, body tired, mind empty.

when you got to the big house with the dark doors, it was already past three in the mornin'.

"it's okay," david said, turnin' off the car. "you can stay here as long as you want, babe."

"thank you," you whispered, it was all you could say.

he carried the bags, opened the door quietly, and led you through the dark hallways to the bedroom. queen bed, white sheets, a window lookin' out at the backyard.

"bathroom's right there," he pointed toward the end of the hall. "i'll go get you a clean towel."

you nodded, lettin' your backpacks drop to the floor.

"take a shower," david said, comin' over and holdin' your face in his hands. his thumbs brushed your cheeks, wipin' away the last of the moisture. "it'll make you feel better. i'm gonna make you somethin' to eat."

"thank you," you repeated.

david gave a sad smile. "go on, take your shower."

the bathroom was big and cold. white tiles, a bathtub you didn't have the nerve to use, a showerhead with water pressure so good it almost hurt. you let the hot water run over your back for a long time, watchin' the soap suds disappear down the drain.

when you came out, wrapped in a fluffy towel that smelled like fabric softener, your fingers were wrinkled and your eyes still burned.

you put on some old shorts and a baggy t-shirt, lazily rubbed some lotion on your legs, and walked back to the room, draggin' your feet.

the mattress was soft. way too soft.

david hadn't come back yet, but you didn't go lookin' for him either.

you curled up, pullin' the white duvet up to your chin, and suddenly the tears were back. not the loud crying, you’d spent all of that already. these were silent tears, streamin' down your temples and soakin' the pillow, while your body shook from exhaustion and sadness.

my dad pushed me. my dad hates me. i don't have a home, i don't have anything.

you buried your face in the pillow and cried quietly, so quietly, so no one would hear.

you didn't hear the footsteps.

didn't hear the door open.

you only realized you weren't alone anymore when a deep, familiar voice said:

"darling? i didn't know you were comin' over today."

you looked up with teary eyes, and there he was.

ben.

he was wearin' a black shirt and sweatpants, his hair messy like he’d just rolled outta bed. he must’ve gone to sleep early, he had no idea you’d be there.

"ben," you tried to smile, but your lip trembled and more tears fell. "sorry, i— we didn't wanna wake you up, david said—"

"david didn't wake me," ben said, walkin' into the room. "i wasn't sleepin'." he stopped by the bed, his green eyes scannin' your puffy face, your red nose, your thin arms holdin' that duvet like a lifeline.

"what happened?" he asked, sittin' on the edge of the bed. the mattress sank under his weight.

you tried to hold back the sob. you failed.

"my dad," you managed to say, your voice comin' out in pieces. "we fought. he was drunk—he's always drunk—and i talked back, and he hit me—and i couldn't stay there, he was gonna... he never did that before, but tonight he looked so... so..."

you couldn't finish.

ben didn't say a word.

he just made a slow, careful move, like someone approachin' a scared animal, and reached out to touch your shoulder.

the same shoulder your father had hit.

you groaned in pain, flinchin' away.

ben's eyes narrowed. "he hurt you there?"

"it's nothin'," you lied, wipin' your cheeks with the back of your hand. "just a scare."

ben didn't believe it. you could see it in his face. but he didn't push, at least not now. instead, he shifted, gettin' comfortable on the bed and openin' his arms.

"come here," he said. his voice was low, a command and a comfort all at once. "come here, doll."

you went.

you didn't think 'bout it. not 'bout the fact that ben was your boyfriend's father, or the fact that you were alone in a dark room at three-thirty in the mornin'. you just went, like a kid runnin' to someone’s lap after a nightmare.

ben’s chest was warm and firm.

he wrapped his whole self 'round you, one arm on your back, his hand in your loose hair. you felt his beard brush against your forehead, his breath calm and deep.

"it's okay," he murmured, his mouth close to your hair. "it's okay, little one. you're safe now."

you cried on his shoulder. not that ugly, desperate way, just small cries, muffled sobs, like you were afraid of bein' too much trouble.

ben didn't let you pull away.

"let it out," he said, his hand movin' up and down your back in slow motions. "go ahead and cry, little girl. i'm right here. i ain't goin' anywhere."

and then you just crumbled in his lap, cryin' non-stop. a while passed, and then your cryin' turned into just sniffles.

when the tears finally dried up, you stayed nestled against him, not havin' the heart to move away.

ben didn't seem to be in a hurry. his thumb drew lazy circles on the shoulder that wasn't hurt, his other hand restin' on your waist.

"you can stay here as long as you want," he said, after a long silence. his voice was a husky whisper. "don't gotta worry 'bout a thing. i'm gonna take care of you."

you looked up, eyes still watery, and met his. even in the dark, they glowed.

"why are you..." you started, and then corrected yourself, embarrassed. "why are you bein' so good to me?"

the corner of ben’s mouth quirked up. he tilted his head, studyin' your face like he was memorizin' every detail.

"because you deserve it. you deserve the better, little girl," he said simply. and then, he kissed your forehead. his lips stayed there for a second, two, three. when he pulled away, the spot where his lips touched was burnin' hot.

"get some rest now," he ordered, gettin' up slowly.

he adjusted the duvet over you, pullin' it to your chin, and fixed the pillow behind your head with a gentleness that hurt. "if you need anythin', my room is the first one down the hall. knock on the door, doesn't matter what time it is."

"ben," you called out, when he was already at the door.

he turned. "yeah?"

"...thank you."

the smile he gave you was small. "sleep tight."

the door closed with a soft click.

you lay there, wrapped in the smell of softener and the leftover warmth of ben’s body, and for the first time that night, your heart didn't ache anymore.

you were asleep when you felt david lay down beside you, kissin' your cheek.

he put an arm 'round your waist, fallin' asleep right after.

˚꩜⋆

at first, it was weird.

you’d wake up every mornin' in david’s room and take a few seconds to remember where you were.

the ceiling was different, the silence was different, even the smell of the pillow was different. david slept by your side every night, his heavy arm 'round your waist, warm breath in your hair, and that helped. he was your safety net in that new place.

but you walked on eggshells. you were scared of makin' noise, scared of takin' up too much space, scared of bein' a bother. but david always said "make yourself at home," and ben, even though he was quiet, never complained 'bout you bein' there.

slowly, you got used to it.

you found out where the towels were, the silverware, the sugar. you learned the rhythm of the house—david leavin' early, ben workin' in his office, the afternoon silence broken only by the tick-tock of the living room clock. and you started to let your guard down.

your college was online. your job too. so every mornin' you’d stay in the room, or at the kitchen table when you wanted company, with your laptop on and headphones in, crushin' classes and tasks.

ben respected your space. sometimes he’d walk by and leave a glass of juice next to your computer without sayin' a word. you’d thank him with a smile, he’d nod, and you’d both go back to what you were doin'.

but in the afternoons and at night, you were free.

and that’s when you’d start wanderin' through the house.

most of your free time was spent with ben.

it wasn't planned, it just happened. david only came back late, usually after eight, so it was just the two of you at home for hours. and ben, little by little, started comin' out of his office more.

at first, it was just an afternoon snack.

you’d make some coffee, fix a sandwich, and knock on the office door askin' if he wanted any.

you helped out 'round the house too.

not 'cause anyone asked, but 'cause you wanted to.

you’d wash the lunch dishes, sweep the living room, fold the towels in the hallway closet. at first ben would say "you don't have to," but then he stopped.

"you're really good at this," he commented once, watchin' you bake a chocolate cake.

it was a routine. a routine that, bit by bit, made you start feelin' at home.

you weren't walkin' on eggshells anymore.

you already knew where to put the dish towel. you knew what time ben liked his coffee. you knew he didn't like noise after lunch, but didn't mind chattin' durin' the afternoon.

you knew things 'bout him.

and he, slowly, started knowin' things 'bout you too.

˚꩜⋆

vibe in the room, which was all sweet just ten minutes ago, had turned sour. david was sittin' on the edge of the bed, his back to you, hands restin' on his knees. you were curled up on the opposite corner, tuggin' at the hem of your shirt, feelin' that familiar, uncomfortable knot in your stomach.

"i'm not pressurin' you, i just... i don't get it, you know?" he said, his voice carryin' a hint of frustration he was tryna hide, but failin'. "we’ve been together for months. i thought we were past this whole insecurity phase."

"it's not insecurity, david. i’m just not ready yet. i already told you that," you answered, your voice comin' out quieter than you meant it to. you hated havin' to justify somethin' that was your right.

he turned to look at you, and his face didn't have that usual sweetness. "yeah, i know. you told me. and i accepted it, didn't i? but feels like we never get anywhere. we start kissin', things heat up, and then all of a sudden, you freeze. you don't even let me touch you. feels like you're scared of me."

"i'm not scared of you!" you snapped, feelin' your eyes sting. "i just... i need time. why’s it so hard to respect that without turnin' it into a fight?"

"cause i'm a man, and i love you, and i wanna be close to you like that!" he shot back, gettin' up and pacin' back and forth in the cramped bedroom. "sometimes it feels like you're punishin' me for somethin' i don't even know about."

you felt a pang of guilt, even though you knew you weren't wrong. that was the thing about fights with david; he didn't do it out of malice, but his persistence left you exhausted.

"i'm not punishin' you, david. i just want it to be special, without feelin' pressured," you whispered, lookin' down at your feet.

"fine." he let out a heavy sigh and stopped pacin', runnin' a hand through his hair all nervous-like. "i'm goin' downstairs to get some water. need to cool my head before i say somethin' stupid."

he walked outta the room without lookin' at you, closin' the door a lil harder than necessary. the silence left behind was heavy. you lay back on the bed, starin' at the ceilin', feelin' lonely even though you were at your boyfriend's house.

you knew david loved you, but moments like this made you wonder if he really got you, or if he was just waitin' for the moment you'd finally "give in" so things could be easy for him again.

˚꩜⋆

ben was the safe harbor your dad never was.

and maybe that’s why it hurt so much to remember your real dad.

it was tuesday. david didn't work durin' the day 'cause he’d taken the night shift. you spent the day together, and when night came, you were alone in the room.

it wasn't like it was news. you were used to sleepin' alone—david slept like a rock, but at least he was there, occupyin' the other side of the bed, the blanket pulled to his side, his heavy breathin' fillin' the silence. but on nights when he was gone, the room felt bigger. emptier. quieter.

you curled up under the duvet, grabbed your phone, and without thinkin', opened facebook.

your father’s profile.

this time there was somethin' new, besides the three old photos he had.

a blurry photo of a bar, your dad arm in arm with a woman you’d never seen before. she wore a low-cut dress, a wide smile, blonde hair. another one. all the same.

the tears came before you could control 'em, and you bit your lips to keep from sobbin'.

one month.

your dad hadn't called.

he hadn't texted. he hadn't looked for you.

and you knew, deep down, really deep down, that it was stupid to wait. he’d never been there. never asked how your day was, never went to a parent-teacher meetin', never remembered your birthday without bein' reminded. he didn't even know what college you were in, fuck.

but a part of you, that tiny little part that still believed in happy endin's, still hoped.

maybe he cares. maybe he misses me. maybe he’s changed.

he hadn't changed. he never would.

you buried your face in the pillow and let the cryin' run wild, real quiet.

the sobs escaped ugly, choked up, you covered your mouth 'cause you didn't want anyone to hear.

how embarrassin'.

you’d already cried in ben’s lap once. the first night you got here. and you promised yourself it wouldn't happen again.

not again. he’s gonna think you're needy. that you're a problem. a burden.

you didn't hear the footsteps in the hallway.

didn't hear the bedroom door open.

you only realized you weren't alone anymore when a deep, familiar voice cut through the silence.

"darling?"

you looked up with teary eyes, findin' ben.

"what happened?" he asked, walkin' into the room. his voice soft, worried.

"nothin'," you lied, wipin' your cheeks with the back of your hand. "it's nothin', ben. you can go back."

he didn't go back.

ben sat on the edge of the bed. the mattress sank under his weight, and you felt the heat of his body even through the duvet.

"ben..." you tried, lip tremblin'.

"i'm not leavin'." his voice was firm, but sweet. "you can cry, you can talk, you can stay silent. but i'm not leavin'."

that broke somethin' inside you.

the tears came back hard, but this time you couldn't hold the sobs. the ugly, desperate cryin' you’d been holdin' back for years, ever since your mom died, since the first glass of beer your dad put to his lips, since all your dad’s girlfriends who treated you bad, all the absences, all the times you needed a father and he wasn't there.

ben didn't say a word.

he just moved.

he sat better on the bed, openin' his legs, and pulled you in. he didn't ask, didn't seek permission, he just put his hands on your arms, lifted you from the pillow and brought you to his lap like you were a rag doll, like you were a child.

"come here," he murmured, adjustin' you against his chest. your head tucked into his shoulder, your legs hung off one side, and his arms wrapped all the way 'round you, one on your back, the other under your knees.

"i'm sorry," you whispered against his shoulder. "i'm sorry, ben. i didn't wanna be a problem."

"you're not a problem."

"i am. you already had to comfort me once. now again. i cry over everythin', i'm..."

"you're what?" he interrupted, voice steady.

"a child," you answered, and you hated the sound of that word. "a needy child who keeps causin' trouble."

ben pulled you back slightly, just enough to look at your face. his eyes were dark, serious. his hand held your chin, tiltin' your face up so you couldn't look away.

"listen to me," he said, every word heavy. "you're not a problem. you're not a child. you're not causin' trouble. you're a girl who had a shitty father and i'm gonna take care of you as many times as it takes. you understand?"

your lip trembled.

"i asked if you understand."

"i understand," you whispered.

he pulled you back to his chest, hand in your hair, kisses on your forehead—one, two, three.

he started rockin' you. slowly. a soft, rhythmic sway, like he was cradlin' a baby. in a way, he was. cradlin' his little baby. you.

his hand went up and down your back in long motions, and you felt his lips on your forehead, in your hair.

"shhh," he went, his voice deep and low, almost a lullaby. "shhh, baby. it's okay."

you cried harder, but it wasn't that desperate cryin' from before. it was a cry of relief, of feelin' safe, of finally bein' held by someone who wasn't gonna let go.

you lost track of how long you’d been cryin', but your head was already throbbin'.

"calm down, please," he asked after a while, and there was an urgency in his voice. "calm down, doll. i'm right here."

the kisses didn't stop. forehead, hair, temple. small, light, never-endin'. like he could kiss your tears away.

and it worked.

slowly, the cryin' died down. the sobs spaced out, the tears dried up, and your body stopped shakin'.

you stayed nestled against him, nose buried in his neck, breathin' in the woody scent of his cologne, feelin' the heat of his body warm you from the inside.

"there you go," he whispered, his hand still movin' over your back. "there you go, baby. it's over."

he didn't stop rockin' you.

you felt his hand reach for your face, his fingers brushin' away the strands of hair that’d stuck to your wet cheeks.

the touch was so delicate it hurt—no one had ever touched you like that. with so much patience. with so much care.

"come on," ben said, and you felt him tilt his head, tryin' to catch your eyes. "come on, tell me what happened, hm?"

you looked up slowly.

ben’s eyes were dark in the shadows, but not dark with malice—dark with worry. he ran his thumb over your cheekbone, wipin' away the last bit of moisture, and then kissed the tip of your nose.

the gesture was so fatherly, so sweet, that your heart did a somersault.

"you can talk," he encouraged. "whatever it is. i won't judge."

you took a deep breath.

"my dad," you started, voice still crackin'. "he hasn't looked for me."

ben waited.

"it's been a month, ben. a month since i left home. and he hasn't called, hasn't texted, hasn't even asked if i'm alive." your eyes filled up again, but you blinked hard, holdin' it back.

"baby..."

"i just wanted him to be a good person, you know?" you let it out, and now the words were comin' like a flood. "i just wanted him to care. my mom died when i was real little, i barely remember her. and since then, it was just him. but he was never... he was never there."

your voice broke.

"he was always workin', or drinkin', or with some different girlfriend. i spent birthdays alone. christmas alone. one time, when i turned fifteen, he completely forgot. only remembered three days later and gave me five dollars to buy a treat at the store."

ben squeezed you against his chest.

"he had a girlfriend who lived with us for a year," you went on, 'cause once you started you couldn't stop. "she was horrible to me. called me a nuisance, useless, said i was takin' up space that wasn't mine. he never defended me. never. he’d stay quiet, or leave the house, or pretend he didn't hear."

"i think he hates me," you whispered. "or at least... he doesn't like me. not the way a dad should."

silence fell.

ben didn't say a word for a long moment. he just kept holdin' you, one hand in your hair, the other on your back, his body a shelter from the world outside.

when he finally spoke, his voice was deeper than usual.

"you didn't deserve to go through that, sweetheart."

you looked up.

he was lookin' at you with an expression you’d never seen before—it wasn't just pity, it wasn't common sympathy. it was somethin' deeper, darker, more like outrage.

"you're too good of a girl for this world," he said, each word heavy and measured. "too good to have grown up like that. too good to have been treated like you didn't matter."

"ben..."

"no." he pulled you closer, his forehead restin' against yours. "you haven't heard this your whole life, so i'm gonna say it now: you matter. you’ve always mattered. and your father is a son of a bitch for not seein' that in you."

he wanted to erase your father from the world, for fuck's sake. he would’ve raised you better. if he could, he’d go back in time, to the day you were born, and steal you for himself. he’d take care of you. he’d be your father. a father that’d be so good to you.

the tears came back, but this time they were sweet.

ben held your face between his hands, thumbs brushin' over your cheekbones, wipin' away the last of the tears. his eyes were so close you could see the exact shade of his irises.

"am i a better daddy than him, little girl?" he asked.

the question came low, almost hesitant—which was weird, 'cause ben never hesitated. like he was askin' permission to take a place that wasn't his. like he was offerin' somethin' you didn't even know you needed.

the words came out before you could even think.

"y—yes daddy.”

you didn't even feel ashamed, not in that moment, not with him holdin' you like that, not after everythin' you’d poured out.

ben closed his eyes for a second. when he opened 'em, they looked darker, deeper. there was somethin' there you couldn't name—somethin' that left him momentarily disarmed.

"i’ve always wanted a little girl only mine to take care of," he said, his voice husky.

you nestled your head on his shoulder, feelin' the soft fabric of his shirt against your cheek. his scent. his heat. the way his chest rose and fell slowly, like he was controllin' his breathin' so he wouldn't scare you.

the kiss he pressed to your forehead lasted longer this time.

"so now you got a real dad," he said against your skin. "one who won't forget you. one who won't choose booze or women over you. one who'll be here, whenever you need."

a low, whiny moan escaped your throat as you snuggled even deeper into his lap. the exhaustion from cryin' weighed on your eyes, your whole body was limp, surrendered. you didn't care 'bout anything else.

didn't care that he was your boyfriend’s dad. didn't care how vulnerable you were.

he started to plant kisses along the edge of your jaw, light touches, almost innocent. but when he felt you shiver all over, ben repeated the gesture a little lower, on your neck. his lips went back to your neck, firmer this time. you moved again, hips trackin' a slow circle in his lap, and a low moan escaped your throat.

"dad..." you called out, not knowin' what you were askin' for.

"i'm right here, doll," he answered, voice raspy. his hand dropped from your back to your waist, squeezin'. "i'm right here."

he kept kissin' you—shoulders, collarbone, the line of your neckline. and while he kissed you, his hands started feelin' your body. slowly. like he was learnin' every curve, every inch.

"i'm gonna take such good care of you," he murmured between kisses. "so good. you're never gonna have to leave here. never gonna need anyone else."

"daddy i—..."

"you're gonna stay here with me. i'm gonna protect you. i'm gonna give you everythin' you need." his hand squeezed your hip, pullin' you against him. you felt the hard bulge under his sweatpants and moaned louder. "only daddy knows what's good for you. only daddy."

his hands ran down your back, moved to your ass, and squeezed. you rubbed against his lap in a move that wasn't innocent anymore—it was instinctive, desperate, your body beggin' for somethin' you couldn't name.

"this... this has gotta be our little secret," he said, his mouth near your ear, voice deep. "just ours. david can't know. never."

"just ours," you repeated, breathless.

"promise?"

"i promise, dad."

his hands squeezed harder. you were moanin' softly, eyes closed, face buried in his neck. your body was movin' on its own now—grindin', rubbin', beggin' for more without you havin' to say a word.

"daddy..." you called, your voice whiny. "daddy... i..."

that’s when the tears came back.

they weren't tears of sadness. they were tears of frustration, of confusion, of a pleasure you didn't know how to reach. your body was shakin', your eyes wellin' up, and a quiet sob escaped along with the moans.

ben stopped immediately.

"does it hurt?" he asked, pullin' back to look into your eyes. "am i hurtin' you, sweetheart?"

you shook your head, but the tears kept fallin'.

"what is it, then?" he insisted, worry clear in his voice. "talk to me."

your face burned with shame. the answer was right there, on the tip of your tongue, but it felt so wrong,

so childish.

"baby girl," he called out, firm. "speak."

"it... it hurts," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

"where?"

you pointed between your legs. "in my... in my pussy."

silence fell.

you saw ben's expression shift, that worry turning into something else, something darker. his jaw tightened, his eyes grew heavy, and it took him a second to respond. when he spoke, his voice was way too controlled.

"has david ever touched you there?" he asked.

you shook your head, your face on fire.

"never?"

"never, dad.”

ben closed his eyes for a moment. you watched his chest rise and fall in a deep breath, saw his knuckles turn white from how hard he was gripping your waist. when he opened his eyes again, his mind was made up.

"what you're feeling," he said, his voice deep, "is your body asking for attention. and only daddy can give you that attention. only me."

he tilted his head and left a kiss on your cheek. soft. almost innocent, after everything.

"only daddy can touch you here," he said, his hand sliding down to press against your pussy over your panties. you moaned, your hips arching up. "only daddy can make this ache go away. you understand?"

"i understand, daddy."

"but this has to be our secret. you can't tell david. never."

"i won't tell," you promised.

ben squeezed your hips hard, his fingers digging into your skin.

"because if you do," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "i'm gonna have to spank this little butt. you understand?"

fear tightened in your chest. you had never seen ben like this—serious, threatening. but something about that tone, about that dark look in his eyes, made your body react in a way you didn't expect. heat spread through your stomach, and you felt yourself pulse.

"yes, daddy," you whispered.

"good girl." his expression softened, and he kissed your forehead. "now, take off your clothes. get on the bed."

you slid off his lap with shaky legs. you took off your shirt. took off your shorts. took off your panties, feeling his eyes burning holes in your back. you laid down on your back against the dark sheets, naked, exposed, your heart beating so hard you were sure he could hear it.

ben knelt between your legs on the bed.

his hand slid down your body slowly, starting at your neck, moving down your chest, stopping at your breasts. his thumbs brushed against your nipples, and you moaned, arching your back.

"sensitive," he noted. "you like that, love?"

"yes," you whispered.

he leaned in and sucked on one of your nipples. his mouth was warm, his tongue circling, his teeth grazing. you moaned louder, your fingers clawing at the sheets.

"shhh," he said, switching to the other breast. "don't be so loud, sweetheart."

his hand moved down.

it passed your stomach, circled your belly button, and reached your pussy. he ran his fingers over the top, just grazing it, and you already moaned, your hips rising on their own.

he rubbed your clit with his thumb—slow, firm circles that made your eyes close and your mouth hang open in a needy moan.

"so wet," he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick.

your body had no control anymore. your hips moved on their own, following the circles his thumb was drawing. you were wet, so wet, and you could hear the obscene sound of his finger sliding against your pussy.

"daddy... daddy..." you called out, not even knowing what you wanted.

"i'm here, baby. i'm here."

he moved lower. his middle finger pressed against your opening, and you felt him slide inside. you arched your entire back, a scream trapped in your throat.

"so tight," he said, his eyes fixed on the expression on your face. "your body belongs only to daddy, doesn't it? i can do whatever i want with you?"

"y—yes," you managed to say.

"yes what, darling?"

"yes, daddy... you can do whatever you want with me."

he pushed a second finger in.

the pain came fast—a sharp sting that made your eyes water. your body tried to pull away, but ben's free hand gripped your hip firmly.

"shh," he hushed, his fingers staying still inside you. "shh, baby doll. let yourself get used to it."

"it hurts, daddy..."

"it'll pass. trust me."

he waited. the seconds felt like hours. slowly, the pain began to fade, giving way to a full pressure, a feeling of being completely open.

"you okay?" he asked.

"mhm... yes" you whispered.

he started moving his fingers, slow at first, then faster. the sound was obscene, wet, and you moaned along with it, eyes closed, mouth open.

"look at me," he ordered.

you opened your eyes. ben was staring at you with an expression you’d never seen before.

"you're so beautiful like this," he said, his fingers picking up the pace. "so lovely. did you know i dreamed about this?"

"you did, dad?"

"every night. since the moment you moved into this house." he curled his fingers inside you, and you let out a cry. "imagining what it’d be like to hear you moan. to see you naked in my bed. to feel you squeezing my fingers like this."

his words were dirty, wrong, and you felt every single one of them like a physical touch.

"you're mine now," he continued, his fingers never stopping. "my little doll. my baby. no one else touches you here. only me. only daddy."

"daddy... i—"

the orgasm hit like a wave, making you scream. your entire body clamped down around his fingers, your legs shaking, eyes filling with tears.

ben pulled his fingers out slowly, brought them to his mouth, and sucked them clean.

"you're so sweet, my baby," he said, his eyes locked on yours.

he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

the touch of his lips was soft, a long kiss that left a warm trail on your skin. he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his eyes soft, almost tender.

"did you like it?" he asked, his voice deep and low.

you felt your face burn. the orgasm he’d just given you was still echoing through your body, the tremors still running down your legs—the feeling of being completely unraveled by a hand that had barely even tried.

"mhm yes, dad," you whispered, your voice shy, almost inaudible.

a smile spread across his face, that smile you loved, the one that made you feel approved, accepted, loved. you smiled back, sheepishly, your cheeks so hot they felt like they were on fire.

and then the shame hit.

you covered your face with your hands, hiding, peeking through the gaps in your fingers. you heard him laugh—a low, pleasant sound.

"you're shy now?" he asked, amused. "after everything we just did?"

"i am," you admitted, your voice muffled by your hands. "don't look at me."

he gently grabbed your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face. your eyes met again, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

"it's okay," he murmured. "i'm gonna take care of you, kiddo.”

you nodded, relaxing a little.

and then he moved.

his hand went down to his pants, fingers pullin' his hard cock out.

the air left your lungs.

huge. way too big. much bigger than you’d ever imagined.

your body reacted before your brain could. you tried to sit up, tried to scramble away, tried to snap your legs shut—all at once, a desperate, messy move like someone tryin' to escape a predator.

"not like that," ben said, his voice firm. his hand gripped your hip with force, stoppin' you from recullin'. "don't run from me."

he positioned himself right between your legs. his cock pressed against your entrance, already wet and open from his fingers. you let out a low, shaky sob, lookin' up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. you wanted him, you really did, but his size was terrifying.

"d-daddy... it’s too big... it’s gonna hurt," you whispered, your voice tremblin' like a leaf.

ben gripped your chin, forcin' you to look at him as he lined himself up. "i know it’s gonna hurt, baby girl."

without sayin' another word, he shoved his cock into your pussy. you gasped, a sharp cry caught in your throat as he forced himself in, stretchin' you to a point you didn't think was possible. tears blurred your vision, spillin' down your face as you tried to push against his chest.

"stop... please, daddy, it hurts too much," you choked out between sobs, shakin' under his weight.

he didn't stop. he leaned in closer, his warm breath against your ear as he started to move—slow and heavy, ignorin' your whimpers. "you don't want your boyfriend findin' out about this, hm? imagine how upset david would be with you, little one. you’re such a bad girl for bein' here, aren’t you?"

he slapped your thigh, the sound crackin' in the quiet room. "you want to make daddy proud, don’t you? then take it. take all of it and stay quiet for me, you little slut."

you bit your lip until it bled, clawin' at the sheets as he picked up the pace, his movements turnin' brutal and relentless. you couldn't even ask him to stop anymore; you were too busy tryin' to breathe while he showed you exactly who was in charge.

as the rhythm became more insane, you felt the rest of your strength fade away. your fingers, which had been clawin’ at the sheets, were only tremblin' now, and your lungs felt way too small for the air you were tryin’ to find. ben noticed. he felt the exact moment you stopped fightin' the pain and just gave in to his weight, leavin' your body limp and vulnerable under his power.

he slowed down, but he didn't stop; instead, he leaned in, buryin' his face in your neck and givin' you soft, almost devoted little kisses on your sweaty skin.

"shhh, it’s alright, my little doll... daddy’s here," he whispered against your ear, his voice sweet as honey now, while his thick cock kept stretchin' your tight pussy without a shred of mercy. "look at how you’re just givin' in to me... so quiet, so obedient. this is how i like to see you."

every thrust now was slow, deep, and calculated, made to hurt and fill you up completely. you felt that abusive pressure deep inside, a fullness that felt almost impossible, but he kept goin’, ignorin’ the fact that you were at your physical limit. he didn't care if it hurt; actually, he seemed to savor the way your body reacted to every invasive move.

"you’re so perfect, y'know? so tight for daddy," he murmured, givin' you a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose 'fore bitin' your earlobe. "i know it hurts a lil bit, my love, but this is how daddy teaches you to be strong. you like me takin’ care of you like this, don't you? you like bein’ ben’s precious lil girl."

you let out a choked sob, tears flowin' freely now, as he kept abusin' your sensitivity with a cruel calm. the contrast between the sweet talk and what he was doin' to your body down there was too much to process. he was breakin’ you.

he didn't stop lookin' at you, green eyes fixed on your face, studyin' every reaction, every shiver. ben seemed to be relishin' the state you were in—completely disarmed and surrendered.

he brought one hand up, calloused fingers tracin' the line of your jaw 'fore, without warnin', deliverin' a sharp slap to your cheek. the sound cracked through the room, and your skin burned instantly. you gasped, eyes wide as pleasure and shock mixed together, makin' your pussy tighten hard around him.

"that’s it... look at you," he murmured, his voice husky and full of dark satisfaction. he gave you another slap, a bit firmer this time. "you like this, don’t you, kid? you like feelin' daddy’s hand on your face while i use you like this?"

you tried to find your breath, face burnin' under his touch and your whole body vibratin'. "i... mmm... i like it, daddy," you whispered, voice breakin', hands grabbin' his broad shoulders.

he let out a low chuckle, a vibration you felt in your very bones, and leaned in to bite your neck, right on that sensitive spot.

he hissed, his thrusts gettin' shorter and faster, focused on makin' you lose your senses. he leaned in even closer, lips brushin' the tip of your ear. "i'm gonna keep you exactly like this, darlin'," he hissed, teeth grazin' your lobe. "i'm gonna possess you every single night while that boy sleeps soundly in the room next door. i'll fill you up so many times you'll forget anyone else ever touched you. you want that, don't you? want to be daddy's secret lil toy?"

you couldn't even think straight anymore. the pleasure, the pain, and his crushin' weight were just too much. "yes... yes, please, daddy," you whimpered, fingers diggin' into the muscles of his arms. "whatever you want."

he let out a dark, satisfied chuckle, his hand squeezin' your neck just a lil bit as he possessed you with one final, deep thrust. he stopped right there, buried to the hilt, his body rigid and tremblin'.

"i'm gonna cum inside you, baby girl," he growled, eyes locked on yours, lookin' for any sign of hesitation. "you want this, baby? want to stay full of daddy's cum? tell me."

"yes," you choked out between sobs, archin' your back to meet him, your walls squeezin' him in a desperate plea. "please... fill me up, daddy. i want it... i want all of you."

ben didn't wait another second. he let out a low, husky groan as he pressed himself against you, comin' all inside you in a hot, overwhelm'n wave. you clamped your pussy 'round his cock with every bit of strength you had left, walls twitchin' in violent spasms that seemed to want to suck out every single drop of what he was givin' you. he groaned raspy against your neck, pinnin' you to the mattress with the raw weight of his body.

ben stayed there for a long time, buried deep, feelin' your shivers fade away bit by bit. his breath was heavy and hot against your skin. slowly, he pushed up onto his elbows, but didn't pull outta you, keepin' that abusive fullness that made your head spin. he reached out, big calloused fingers brushin' away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead with an unexpected gentleness.

"you alright, kiddo?" he asked, his voice droppin' to that velvety, protective tone that made your heart race.

"yeah... i'm okay, daddy," you whispered, voice almost gone, lookin' at him with eyes shinin' with adoration and exhaustion.

a smirk of pure triumph and pride spread across his face. "fuck, daughter... i'm so proud of you, my love. you got no idea how happy you made daddy today," he murmured, caressin' your cheek. "you were such a brave girl, took it all without askin' to stop once. you were perfect for me, way better than i even imagined you'd be. you were born to be mine, doll."

you just nodded, feelin' a comfortin' warmth from his praise, and answered with a quiet "ok," too weak to say anythin' else. you wrapped your arms 'round his neck, hidin' your face in that curve between his shoulder and ear, and tangled your legs around his strong ones, lockin' him there. the move made you feel his cock, still inside, rub against the bottom of your sensitive pussy, and a whimpery moan escaped your lips.

"i'm tired, daddy... mhmhmm," you murmured, lazily rubbin' against his broad chest, seekin' the comfort of skin-to-skin now that the storm had passed.

he let out a low, vibratin' laugh, findin' your mood amusin'. "i bet you are, lil girl. daddy went hard on you," he said, start'n to slowly pull out. the sound of slick skin part'n made you let out a tiny sigh of discomfort from the sudden emptiness.

ben sat back on the bed and just watched the sight of his cum drippin’ out of your swollen, throbbin’ pussy. he smirked, grabbin’ his own cock—still half-hard—and lighty tappin' the tip against your clit. the shock of sensitivity was instant; you jumped, squirmin’ all over the sheets and lettin’ out a gasp of surprise.

he laughed at your reaction, findin’ the way you tried to dodge his touch adorable. "you real sensitive down there, kid? look at you shake," he teased affectionately before grabbin' your arms and pullin’ you on top of him.

now you were sittin' in his lap, legs wide around his waist. you leaned forward and kissed his mouth with a sweet shyness, a long press that contrasted with all the aggression from before.

when you pulled back just a few millimeters, still feelin' his warm breath on your skin, ben looked down at your body. he ran his hand over your thighs, feelin’ his cum still leakin' out. he let out a low chuckle, feelin’ the weight of your body completely relax against his. his gaze dropped again to your legs, watchin' the white trail messin' up the sheets and your skin.

"fuck, look at the state i left you in, little one," he murmured, runnin' his hand over it and smearin' the warm liquid with his thumb, watchin’ you shiver at the touch. "you’re all covered in cum... daddy’s gonna have to give you a bath, isn't he? can't have you sleepin' all dirty like this."

you just let out a sleepy murmur, closin’ your eyes as you felt his kisses all over your face. the idea of bein' carried by him, of havin’ his hands takin’ care of you under the warm water after everythin’ he’d done, felt like heaven.

"come here," he said, pickin' you up with impressive ease, like you weighed nothin’. you wrapped your arms 'round his neck, hidin' your face in his chest as he walked toward the bathroom. "i’m gonna wash you up, my love, just relax."

you nodded against his skin, feelin' completely protected as the sound of the shower started to echo.

the world outside vanished.

there was no david. no guilt. no tomorrow. there was only the touch of ben’s hands, washin’ the mess he’d made off your body, fingers passin’ delicately over your skin. you were on the edge of passin’ out, totally vulnerable and at his mercy.

a/n: hiiii 👁️👁️👁️ my second fic here! sorry for any mistakes, i've edited it, but it turned out really long so i might have missed something. feedback is always welcomeee! <3

[daughterbubs]

trembling hands : soldier boy

daughterbubs ⭐︎ 2026

◞ : MDNI , 18+ content | tags: dead dove , do not eat ! fauxcest, daddy kink [use of dad, daddy + dada], ddlg, daddy!soldier boy x virgin!reader, smut, loss of virginity, mention of blood, fingering, unprotected! p in v penetration, ben is disgusting + infantilizing, some dumbification, touch of male masturbation, pet names [daughter, baby, kid, kiddo, pet, etc.], some coercement from both participants, some teasing + soft!ben as well. all characters are 21 years or older + consenting adults.

◞ : summary ; when you walk in on your father figure, Ben, with another woman, you're no longer able to repress how you truly feel for him. 4.7k words.

He had nowhere else to go? Right? You’d been the simplest solution; he’d accompany you in your apartment – just for a little while, just until The Boys ascertained something a bit more permanent. But weeks turned into months, and the vague communication of when Ben was departing dissolved into a quiet concession. You were stuck with this relic of a former American nation that no longer existed. It was okay. Mostly. The offensive jabs, insolent attitude, hell, even the way weed and booze seemed to emit from his scent like perspiration, all of it, was okay. Until you’d call him Dad. You really, sincerely, hadn’t meant to, but the truth was molten hot, and the weight of it crumpled your shoulders in shame if you thought too hard about it – Ben had become a father figure to you. Sure, a deranged one, with raunchy comments and unprovoked slaps on your ass in passing, but a father to you nonetheless. You’d just brought back takeout, exhausted after a seemingly interminable day, trying to avoid a complaint from him that’d further weaken your clouded mind. 

“want’a beer, Dad?” Was all that was said, and in an aftershock, you received a spike of heat that began to terrorize your cheeks from the flustered slip. 

“Oh, I’m Dad now, huh?” He’d chuckled roughly, stepping from behind the counter, a warm hand finding its way onto your lower back. Too close, always, but he didn’t care. You’d been frozen like you’d been shot, red-faced and humiliated. He knew it. And he reveled in it. “No thanks, daughter, Dad’ll get it himself,” he’d grinned jeeringly, before ducking into the fridge by your hip, a hand grasped on your back as he tore a fresh one from the pack and popped the cap off. 

“i- i didn’t mean to, Ben–” 

“No, no. I’m Dad now, babydoll,” He corrected, tilting his head for a swig.

And that was that. Dad Dad Dad. That’s all he spoke, and when the torment was too much, you’d been forced to succumb to it. It was nothing more than that. Movies with Dad. Dinners with Dad. Cleaning up after him, casual jokes, and veiled innocence by you – because he never did anything. Every day, you cursed your sour lips. Lips that loosened and tainted any semblance of genuine attraction Ben may have garnered for you. He looked at you as a child now. His child. You were convinced you’d extinguished any possibility for romance or sex in an instant. Dad. Fuck. And it made it worse that you got off on it. You wanted your Daddy in a less-than-puerile manner. Under him, against him, anyway, you could have him. And he’d had to have noticed your eyes on his lips, your own drooling for a kiss, or the way you tensed in his embrace, wishing the firm hands on your back would traverse lower. But they didn’t, and he didn’t. 

Constant arousal from his constant presence had become quotidian. Pooled and desperate, invariably sensitive, and impossibly clingy to his touch in an imprudent method to make him touch you. And after another month of his feigned ignorance, you tore. When simply seeking his embrace for the umpteenth time that day, you wandered into the guest room unbeknownst to what lay behind the door. 

You shouldn’t be so shocked. You’ve known Ben all this time, and you knew he wasn’t going to you for pleasure – but were you truly so naive to trust that all he was fucking was his fist? You didn’t knock. And there she was. A woman, obviously older, attempting to cover herself up. 

One of Ben’s eyebrows raised before he chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Need somethin’, baby? Dad’s a little busy here.” It was natural. Arrogant, unfazed – tied in a translucent floral robe while your knees fell victim to a vellication of mortification and hurt.

“‘m– m’sorry,” You immediately sputter out, eyes drawing to the carpet in an attempt to drain the tears that venture to fall down florid cheeks. Ben’s smirk falters at your broken gaze, the way your face is burnt with horror, and the way you tremble like your world has been spliced and shattered. 

You're hardly able to conceptualize Ben’s stare, focused on your palsied form as he mutters a stern, “Out,” to the woman. Nor can you recognize the way she scoffs bitterly in general disturbance and agitation as your disruption. The moment the door is slammed, Ben, immodest in his loosely tied robe, steps closer.

“Look at me.” He orders, voice rough, but quieter now as he swipes your tears with his thumb. Gentle. Paternal. When you don’t lift your head, he exhales sharply, hooking a finger under your chin and forcing those streaming, sad eyes up to his. “The hell’s that face for, huh?” His tone is deflective with that unadulterated cockiness, although now burnt now with frustration – like the guilt is settling for allowing you to even walk in on something so explicit. “Thought you knew better than to expect choir boy behavior, sweetheart.”

He exhales, looking away, shoulders rolling, and suddenly restless as he recognizes your hurt. “Shoulda knocked, baby.”

Fucking asshole. But you don’t speak. Your lip wobbles more as you involuntarily whimper, crying eyes gone from his own again. His jaw clenches at your reaction – at how you’re broken over a silly little hookup. “Fuck–” 

His free hand drags down his face as he grumbles. “Fine. Yeah, maybe I shoulda..” Ben mutters, before his grip on your jaw tightens to lock eyes again. “But you– you– don’t gotta look at me like that.” Grudgingly, he mutters the closest thing to an apology you’ll receive – "Ain't like it meant anything.”

“ya.. it- it does.” Is all you can meekly manage, your throat tightening as you try and keep your cries inaudible.

Ben exhales sharply, his grip on your chin firms up, before his hand tangles alternatively in your hair. “Fuckin’ hell, kid – Quit it. Ain’t gonna watch you cry over some dumb shit.” He orders, his scowl deepening, but his fingers remain in locks. His goddamned brutal ignorance. It shoves your silence away while the hurt cracks into teary desperation.

“why– why her, and… and not me?” It's unbidden and mortifying, but such shame has been completely demolished and you cannot help the plea.

The silence is piercing, an underlying flash of vulnerability seeping through his features before it is once again concealed. His hand drops, positioning to the side of your throat – the touch should be grounding, firm, maybe even slightly menacing, but the pain is too encompassing to even comprehend where his hands are. “D’you really have to ask, honey?”

“y-ya. i do.” You stutter out, sadness embittering into rage. 

He stares down at you for a moment, stern, before scoffing, a venomous chuckle dripping from his mouth as he presses into the pulse of your throat. “You really think I’d want some fuckin’ mindless night stand over you? You, who I spend half my damn time tryin’ to keep outta trouble? Who I can actually hold a conversation with without wantin’ to claw my own damn eyes out?” 

“then– then why fuck her ‘nd not me! why not me? i’ve been here all this time f’you!”

His shoulders tense, his face flickering something like pity, before he’s crowding you, flimsy robe and hard muscle pressed flushed against you with no other choice but to feel him. To look at him. His scent of sweat, weed, and that dreadful spiced cologne – dingy and old, that you still have become so fond of – invades your senses. 

“I didn’t even get started cus’a you. My lil’ brat of a daughter decided to interrupt me.” His eyes are dark, lowered, his jaw up with that signature downturned frown he makes when agitated.  “Why? Y’think you got somethin’ to prove to me, kid?”

“no, no… i jus–” You trail off, lingering tears growing tacky on your cheeks. Ben sighs, long and low, his robe’s tie having untangled, weakly hanging off his hips as annoyance tinges with an emotion unrecognizable on him. Regret. Finally, his grip on your throat relaxes, dropping to your waist to hold. Your eyes are half lidded, focused on the corner of the bed in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t help that his proximity is much too close – your pulse throbs in your ears as Ben’s hot breath puffs out against your temple.

“Lil’ one.. Y’know damn well you’re the only one I want, but–”

“then why not come to me?” You repeat, biting back, interrupting and upset.

“You think I don’t know you’re right there? Like I ain’t notice how you look at me? How you stare? When your thighs are squeezin’ together ‘nd you think I won’t catch you?” He huffs out a harsh laugh, his hand clasping firmer on your waist. “Fuckin’ Christ, kid. You’re my little girl. I wanted to.” The admission stains the both of you, unguarded and dark. His fingers flex against your skin like he’s fighting the desire to pull both your hips flush. “Fuck–” He breathes, gazes on your lips as you continue to refuse eye contact or acknowledge the situation. “I still want to.”

Your pleading eyes flicker up, lips pouted but still pursed, and it's enough to make him press you closer, a ragged breath of his dragging against your face.

“D’you think I don’t wanna? That I ain’t thought about it every goddamn day? Pretendin’ my cock’s between those ‘lil lips or thighs when you leave me alone? I have. But fuck, sweetie. Lookatchya.”

“You still sleep with stuffed animals on your bed, still watchin’ cartoons. Suckin’ on your thumb – don’t think I don’t notice.” He exhales sharply, grip digging into your hips as both an anchor and a confession. “Couldn’t do that to you.” He mutters, gaze guilty but still pinned to the curved softness of your lips. You don’t know what to say; all that’s clear is his consciousness is warring, voice dipping lower and edged with impuissance. “Y’cant ask me to want you like that. Not when I know damn well you ain’t ready for me.”

And that response breaks you. Empty hands thrust before you can cease the action, grasping his bare hips with enough force to send his thin robe to the floor. “no! i am ready for you, dad. please. please daddy, i am.” You automatically beg, tears lurching out again as you pull his naked pelvis flush against yours. And it's too much. The way you cry, the way your little trembling hands are clasping onto his hot skin. Both of his own wrap around your waist, fists grasping the fabric at the back of your shirt. His breathing is ragged as the tension radiates into his every cell, burying his face into your shoulder like he’s starved for the contact of you. 

“Don’t say that.” He grunts, like if you repeat it, it’ll end him. It’s desperation, raw and sticky, and much too soft for the American hero. Ben inhales your scent as his face drags up your neck to your temple. You can feel his heart race, his voice hoarse. “You ain't ready for me.” He repeats, although wavering, as if he’s less sure now. “You’d break. You have no idea what you’re sayin’ – I’d ruin you, kiddo.”

You don’t listen. Truth is, you can’t even hear him. You feel his lips lazily speaking against your throat, his plump, hardened cock, bare and rosy against the front of your top. You can feel how soft his hips are and how the layer of fat above muscles squeezes under your hands, desperate to wrap them around to his ass and lower. You moan softly at the sensations instead, face leaning into the crook of his neck with a subtle grind of your clothed pelvis. 

“Kid. You keep movin’ like that, and I ain’t gonna be responsible for what happens next.”

His body reacts without his permission, fucking twitching against you as he presses his eager dick into the friction of your hips. “Fuck, Baby–” He chokes out, attempting to still his own body. “Stop.”

“dad..  i need you.” You whine, fingers brushing further down to his backside, eyes pleading as you’re about to crest over his cheeks. 

“You don’t. You think you do. Ain’t the same thing.” But his defense is growing flimsy for your childish pout, your little doe eyes, the way your body is practically reeking of arousal for him. “Fuck–” 

But you’ve had enough of his denial, shoving his hips into yours as you press your palms into his ass, speaking censured to his refusal. 

“if you don’t have me, i’ll make you.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Ben moves, restraint snapped like the spine of an animal torn in predator jaws. His arms are flexed, lifting your thighs around his waist, pinning you to the wall with hands digging into skin. His own flushed lips are a breath away from yours as he snarls, his smile noxious and dark. 

“You wanna play it like that, kiddo? Hm? Play with Daddy like that?” He doesn’t wait for another berating remark from you; instead, smothering your lips with the thick press of his tongue, flattening over your parted mouth before he’s assaulting the wet muscle inside. Your whine is immediate as he begins to rock between the expanse of your thighs, clothed little pussy already throbbing against where he ruts his pinkish tip.

He’s rough and unforgiving, licking teeth and the roof of your mouth as you pathetically try to keep up with your Dad. He tastes how he smells – relentless, sickening, tinged with that subtle sweetness of his joints and bitter aged whiskey. He pulls away, strings of salvia connecting the two of you as he laughs, the sound strained from arousal, yet still sardonic. 

“You kiss like a fuckin’ toddler, y’know that?” 

All you can manage is a whine, as if his one kiss had abducted all remaining intelligence of the young woman you were, and left you to be a mindless shell. He smiles down at the sight, where you’re sucking in your lips to continue to taste him inside the expanse of your mouth. “Ah.. Baby.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he’s already dragging you away from the wall and to his bed. “Look at that. Knew you couldn’t handle it, Dad’s already popped that pretty brain like it was bubblegum.” 

He sighs, laying you down on awry sheets, watching your lost yet desperate eyes, as you bite your lip. With a groan, he sits on the edge of his mattress, reaching out to rub the top of your thigh, just where the edge of your skirt meets warm skin. “S’too much.” He mutters, his hand reaching for his thick cock, pale pink with a reddened tip from persistent arousal, the veins of him contracting with want as he grasps himself lazily at the sight of you. 

“Mmh. Should read y’a bedtime story instead. Ya like that?” He asks, stroking himself between his thighs with that sadistic gleam of teeth and low tone. “Kid’s too little, you just watch Dad touch, ‘nd then I’ll tuck ya in after like a good girl.”

“no!” You protest, like the threat that he won’t have sex with you, slicing through the thickened mist of submission. “no. no i wan’ dada.” You whine, hips spreading as you squirm in clothes. And fortunately, it’s enough to lure him. Ben’s body crawls on top of yours with uncharacteristic gentleness as he begins to pull down your skirt and underwear in one go. 

“It’s Dada now, huh? Gotch’you too little, didn’t I?” He laughs darkly, fisting your sodden underwear in his palm before groaning, shoving the fabric into his face as he mutters. “Like fuckin’ candy, babydoll.” 

You just pant, feeling yourself slicken more at such a perverted sight. He’s all bared teeth and greed, grasping at your chest before you recognize your shirt is off. “Mm. Look at these lil’ daughter tits. Fuck.” Ben groans, squeezing your breasts in both palms. You’re sensitive, the nerves alight in your nipples, and stroking the burning need searing in your belly. Your slick cunt raises with your hips at the pleasure. 

“dad. touch.. pease.” You squirm, practically about to begin weeping again from sheer waves of need.

“‘Pease,’ huh, honey? Want y’Dad so bad thatcha can’t even talk.” His crows' feet scrunch with his snicker of degradation at the way you seem fucked dumb before he’s even touched you. His fingers pinch nipples to make you jolt, before trailing down your quivering belly to where you’re already puffy and rocking your thighs on sheets.

“Wow. My daughter has one swollen lil’ cunt.” He thumbs through seeping slick, translucent and sticky, like you’d been dripping for hours, (and frankly, you had been), before he shoves a single finger into pulsing velvet walls. You whine painfully, his digit already assaulting and stretching.

“Fuck – kid, y’really are a baby, huh? Ain’t ever had a cock before? You a virgin or s’mthin’?” Ben groans, squeezing his finger through clenched walls as your pussy seems to flounder in the accommodation of him.

“n– no.” It’s rhetorical, but you squeak out the lie, for the terror of him pulling out and a possible abnegation of abducting something so precious from you. 

“Fuckin’ liar. Tiny cunt’s flutterin’ like it wants to burst now.” He’s cruel and taunting, and you gasp as he starts ramming into that soft spot deep inside, nudging your swelling clit under his thumb. “Mm, there it is. Lil’ one’s gonna cum all over her Dad’s hand. Can’t help it, can ya?”

You’re breathing his hard, open-mouthed pants as the tightening spear of heat throbs through your belly and down your thighs, whining as you try to hold it, to not cum like the little kid you know he thinks you are. 

“No, no, baby. We don’t do that. Gonna cum like a big girl, right?” 

You’re not ready for the humiliation to follow. It’s too quick, too fast, just one finger and you’re gone, shaking your head in an incorrect response.

“No? Gotta make Dad fuck it outta you, huh?” Ben growls raspily, bullying that plush throb inside you, his free hand pressing firmly over your bladder. “You’re such a fuckin’ baby. You’re gonna cum, kiddo. Tough shit. Feelin’ this virgin pussy needin’ her Daddy.”

And he’s right, because you’re cumming then with shuddering tears, hips attempting to get his finger tip deeper as he feels your pulse radiate in his hand. “There we go,” Ben coos, pleased, rubbing the firmed flesh of your nerves through your cascades of pleasure. “Good job, honey. Feelin’ real good for Dad, huh?”

You nod dumbly, feeling drool dribbling past your mouth and onto his sheets before he’s dipping another finger in. “Hips wider, sweetie, tryin’ t’get you ready, ‘member? Gotta let Dad stretch his kid’s cunt.”

The words are insidious, horrific even, but your thighs spread automatically, as any word from him – from Dad, is enough to blindly toddle after like it's an edict’s holy vow. The stretch is painful, thick, plump fingers invading the thin, pulsing opening of your desirous pussy as he pushes in slowly, slick, thickly puddling down your flesh as he does so. 

“Atta girl, gotta get this lil’ pussy all wet for Dad, hm? Don’t wanna make ya bleed too much.”

You whine, face pinched, even as he’s massaging your needy clit, his two digits are so much more than you had ever encountered before. 

“Da– dada. hurts.” You whimper, breathing hard. Ben, however, just smirks, smile lines creased against that darkened stubble.

“Yea, pet.” He grins, shoving his digits deeper inside tightened walls. “‘Course it’s gonna hurt. You’re a fuckin’ virgin, baby. But you’re gonna y’Dad get his fill, huh?” 

Ben’s pace is as steady as he can manage, but God, he wants you. He wants his little girl, and the proof is already staining his bare abdomen with weak trickles of precum as his cock cries to be submerged in your warmth. 

“Fuck, honey. O- open up more. Fuckin’ relax.” His palm starts to rub your tummy, disgustingly sweet and gentle as he goes harder as the torrents of your pleasure bloom into hot need before your voice can warn him. You cry cumming, tiny whines emitting from your throat, as tears roll down your cheeks once again from the feeling. “There ya go, baby, oh.”

“Such a good kid, huh? Lil’ angel f’me.” He groans, stroking himself in a rottenly fast exchange before you can even comprehend that it's time. A pained gasp emits as he extricates his fingers from your clenched cunt. The friction, overstimulation, and sharp ache of your walls go hardly noticed when his dribbling and twitching cock nudges inside, all else is forgotten except for how Dad is entering you.

Fuck– fuck! Kiddo I-” Ben grunts, entering slowly into the untouched, slickened center of your body. You feel like heaven. Heaven after not experiencing a quivering, sloppy cunt in fucking decades. And he’s never experienced something so blissful as entering his own little girl. He can’t. Can’t take it, can’t fathom it, his animal-like groans drowning out your tiny cries from the stretch. He’s pained from holding back. Fuck, he’s essentially a virgin himself with just how long it's been, his biceps tense, white knuckling the sheets by your pouted face. His honeyed hazel eyes are closed, breaths heavy and hot above you in an attempt not to tear through your body and rip flesh like the carnal man he is. 

“Baby.” Ben mutters simply, almost vulnerable, when his tip is finally pinned up against your cervix. His voice is almost unrecognizable, and your wide, sullen eyes meet his – you’re all puffy lips, glowing cheeks, and hazy eyes – speechless and little – and the affection he rarely shows for you is surging into something much sweeter than teases and simple touches. “Mmh.. m’feelin’-- too damn good, kid. This lil’ cunt, it's– it’s fuckin’ hard to not fuck y’in half.”

After a breath, his hips rock steadily, the same rasped groan tearing from his throat. “M’kid. God. Such a sweet baby.” His hands, clasped on sheets, move to your arms, grounding himself as he feels your body melting around him in the same violent sensation of arousal – your thighs around his hips, as his cock harshly scrapes every nerve within your gummy walls. The deep, plush, and pulsing spot inside of you is pummeled brutishly with each grind, eliciting that sharp knot of arousal curling in both your spines. 

“dada.. i– mmh!” you babble, the emotions too rampant and crushing after months of choked on avows.

“Mm- What, baby?” Ben rasps, a hand descending between his rutting hips to rub your swelled clit. 

“i-love you.. mmh– m’dad.” You stammer out, just before the plangent ache of your pussy breaks, dissolving into a clamping, rigorous orgasm of incessant tightness and weakly kicking legs in reaction to your Daddy pressing into every ablazing nerve. 

Ben would be paralyzed from your needy declaration if he hadn’t gotten his dick choked by the way you whimper, gasp, and cum; like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered to you, and he is. His hips can’t stop, fucking you through it as the excruciating pleasure, taut and tied inside his gut and balls, threatens to gush. “Fuck kid. Dad- Daddy loves y’too.” He’s gasping, pants meeting the damp skin of your shoulder before a growled moan is fucked out of him, his hips gyrating as his tip disgorges out a thick, hot spate of cum, white and filling, pouring into your womb. 

All is still – dewy skin pressed against each other, as trickles of release still ooze from his cock. He pants into your neck, his fingers pressed into your waist as he hears your softly whined breaths. 

“Yea. Dad loves you, baby.” He admits again, rasping against your ear, his voice utterly soft and leaden with truth. Kisses begin gracing your hair and temple as you both come down, his free hand starting to caress your now tumid belly, soft and filled with his cum. 

The simplicity is interrupted by a girlish, giddy giggle, painfully innocent while he’s still inside you, “m’full of dada.”

Ben cracks a deep chuckle, grinning with reverence as his head raises to meet your sleepy, submitting, and yet, happy gaze. “Kiddo likes that, hm? Like bein’ full of Dad?”

You nod, beamish and small, teeth nibbling into your bottom lip as you limply extend an arm to play with his brunette tufts.

“Course y’do, brat. ‘S’a good thing you’re my daughter, then. Wouldn’t catch me weakenin’ f’anyone else.” You huff out at the name, still suctioned on his dick, your insides sore as he’s still seeking, still molding you to be his. 

“dad.. am. am i bleedin?” You suddenly whimper, hazy and sweet, yet concerned.

Ben’s face simply hardens, as if the guilt of what he did – of what he’s doing – is unveiled upon him. He grunts, lifting himself enough to look down at where he’s speared inside of you, stretched and slightly slick with what little manages to dribble out. “Well, shit, kid. You’re fuckin’ plugged with me.” He smirks, before another rut against your squelching womb emits through the air, you squeal at the feeling. “Greedy baby. Y’cunt’s not wastin’ a drop. Not gonna know ‘til I pull out.” 

Just a few inches depart your wetness, before he’s sheathing himself back in, deeper, now that he’s fucked you once. Your breathless gasp, eyes sealed with pleasure, has him wrapping around your hips, his balls nestled against your puckered flesh as the friction emits soaked, desperate, squelched sounds into the room. His pelvis initiates yet another buildup as his dick strokes those tender, overstimulated walls as you cry.

“Fuck kid. Dad needs ya again. Need m’daughter’s pussy.” He lifts one of your thighs against your belly to angle himself the furthest he can manage, as if your Dad is desperate to mate – and truly, he is. He gropes your inner thigh, unable to resist the urge to slap the plush skin, before he’s doing the same to your ass, his grip is firm and squeezing as he fucks harder into that perfect, tightened heat. Ben’s all parted lips and deep, pleasured groans as your cervix seems to nurse on the profuse load he’s left inside you, while the sensations of his sex begin drawing out your deepened cries once again. Your head lolls to the side of the mattress, face glossy with tears and immense amounts of drool as your lips flex and your tongue darts out against the sheets. You don’t know what you're doing, but he does.

“My fuckin’ baby.” He grunts, his grip on your ass unrelenting while his free hand lunges to dig into your chin, turning those sobbing trembles of pleasure towards him – your lips are pouted, flanging and wet, and adorably seeking. “Mmmh.” Ben grumbles, before his thumb is shoved into your needy little mouth. The relief is immediate. You just want him – to flutter on him anyway you can – here, he has you pinned in a mating press, and you just want to suck his thumb to mend both the vast discomfort and pleasure he’s wrought into your body. Your tongue and lips are latched, in tangent sucks with each thrust of his cock, throbbing hotly with another impending orgasm.

“Jus’ need’s Dad’s thumb– Fuck. My lil’ one,” He moans roughly, like the view of such a callow sight is enough to draw him to the edge. The feeling of his hair, his pubic mound, sensitive and rubbing onto your overwrought clit, along with the angle of his length beating into your hot, gummy spot inside, is enough to have you orgasm again, teary-eyed and rutting against him. Your mouth parts in a whiny moan, drooling and now slack on his thumb. His hips are unflagging, working himself a brief few seconds over, before a growling sound of pleasure resonates from his throat, a second, and even heavier, spill of creamy white is pumped from his cock, buried inside. It's hot, and it’s him, flooding deep where it will never escape. 

You’re lost in such rapture, even as the minutes of harsh pants dissipate into caresses and praise, your mouth finding his thumb once again. “Did so good, kiddo. My good lil’ girl.”

“Dad’ll take care of you, jus’ –  gotta let his cum settle in that sweet pussy a’yours first.” Ben smiles, your warmed face and soft suckles provoking something genuinely tender and adoring in him. It’s a new, irrepressible truth – you're truly his daughter now.

[ultraviolenclana]

cw: you're such a good girl for soldier boy, you always let him do whatever he wants with you, even when you’re sleeping, he doesn't stop using you. his favorite little doll.

cw: smut - somnophilia - daddy kink - sadistic ben - unprotected sex - cnc - degradation - breeding kink - intrusive thoughts - 18+

soldier boy x girlfriend!reader | wc: 1.5k

your relationship was never normal, and neither of you insisted that it was. ben knew about your dependence on him. and you knew how violent he could be.

but it didn't matter.

the house was silent that night, only the distant sound of the wind shaking the leaves of the trees in the garden and the soft ticking of the room clock echoing through the corridors. it was 2am when ben finally got home, his shoulders heavy not only by the long working day, but by the tension that seemed to accompany him lately as a persistent shadow.

he left his shield by the door with a tired sigh and ran his hand over his face, feeling every muscle of his body complain.

his steps went up the stairs almost automatically, guided by a need that he no longer tried to question. the corridor was dark, but he knew every inch of that house. when he arrived in front of your room, he stopped for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob, feeling the cold wood under his fingers.

inside, the room was bathed by a soft light that came from the cloud-shaped lamp that you insisted on keeping on every night. ben smiled tenderly when he saw you.

you were sleeping soundly, your hair loose across the pillow. your calm, rhythmic breathing made your chest rise and fall gently. the blanket was tangled around your legs, revealing one of the t-shirts you’d stolen from ben.

ben closed the door behind him carefully, the soft click of the lock echoing in the silence of the room. he took off his t-shirt, throwing it on the chair next to the desk, and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on his serene face for a long moment. his fingers reached your face, pushing away a lock of hair that fell on your closed eyes.

“my little doll.” he murmured, his voice hoarse and tired. “daddy needed you so much today.”

the bed creaked softly as he lay down next to you. for a moment, he just stayed there, feeling the warmth of your body, the calm rhythm of your breathing, and the peace you emanated even while sleeping.

he could do anything with you now. anything. you wouldn't wake up. or if u woke up, it would take seconds to understand what was happening, precious seconds in which he would have already done what he wanted. you trusted him. naively. pathetically.

ben wasn’t a good man. you knew that when you started your relationship with him. he was a very powerful and dangerous man. he had already stained his hands with a lot of blood. he had already done terrible things that you couldn’t even imagine. but... he was good to you. he took such good care of you. he did everything for you.

sometimes he was violent, aggressive. he would hit you, whether during sex or not. sometimes he bit you, beat you, or even kicked you. nothing that broke anything, he knew his own strength, he knew exactly where the limit was between your pleasure and the actual damage.

and he didn't always treat you poorly, there were rare moments when he did something other than lightly slapping you. when he crossed that line, it took days for you to recover. but he was always by your side, taking care of you in the best possible way.

ben liked the way you gladly accepted everything, like an obedient puppy.

but he didn't tell you about his disturbing thoughts.

in moments like these, his mind slipped into a darker place. he imagined his hands — the same hands that had broken bones, fucked your little pussy, taken lives, caressed you before you slept, crushed skulls against concrete — wrapping around your neck. your soft skin under his rough fingers. the surprise in your eyes when they opened.

he could hurt you so much. more than he already had.

the thought excited him.

he knew he was sick, and that the moment he met you and put his hands on you, he had ended your life.

ben knew it would take a while, but that at some point, you would regret having met him. he hoped not, but it was inevitable.

he was selfish, possessive, narcissistic, and completely out of control. there were days when he woke up wanting to see the world burn, just to feel something. and even so, you were with him.

he could make you suffer in ways you couldn't even imagine, and you would still forgive him. because you loved him. because you depended on him.

his hand slid across your body. he ran his fingers slowly over the soft curve of your waist. you didn't even move. you remained completely vulnerable.

he felt his cock harden inside his sweatpants, and a dirty smile curved his lips.

your t-shirt had risen during sleep, revealing a piece of your belly. his green eyes ran through every inch of your defenseless body.

his fingers pulled your panties down slowly. you muttered something low, an incomprehensible sound, and your hips moved slightly.

he took off his own sweatpants and underwear, throwing them on the floor without making noise. his cock was hard, heavy, his head shining with a drop of pre-cum. he settled next to you, and with his free hand, he held the base of the cock and guided him to your entrance.

the head of his cock brushed your wet pussy lips, and he moaned low, starting to rub.

"hmm fuck doll... daddy loves to use your body so much, little one." he whispered hoarsely.

slowly, the head of his cock slid between the lips of your pussy, went up to the clitoris, went down again to the entrance.

ben squeezed your thigh gently, keeping you in place while he rubbed his cock in your pussy. the head of his cock brushed your clitoris with every movement. jesus— it was so good.

he wanted to come in, wanted to bury it to the bottom and feel you squeezing it. but no. he wasn't going to do that. you were tired. you needed to sleep.

only the tip, he thought. he wanted to cum inside you. shit. he loved to cum inside you, always.

he guided the head of his cock to your entrance and pushed enough for his head to enter, just enough to feel the hot and wet grip of your pussy lips closing around him.

he started rubbing again, but now with the tip going in and out.

you sighed in your sleep, your leg opening a little more, as if even unconscious you wanted to make it easier for him.

fuck. he wanted to see his cum dripping down your pussy while you slept, innocent, oblivious to everything.

you looked like a little angel; he felt like a demon violating your body, and he felt incredible.

he pulled the tip out and began to rub his cock in your pussy again, faster now, the head of his cock sliding frantically against your clitoris, against the swollen lips of your pussy. his hand squeezed his own base, trying to hold on.

he closed his eyes in pure delight. "oh— fuck. hmm my baby, how i want to destroy you. make you wake up only when i’m done using you as much as i want.”

he positioned the tip at your entrance again, feeling your pussy hugging the head of his cock, making him sigh, throwing his head back.

“hmm? would you like waking up all bruised, not knowing what happened? not remembering anything?” he moaned low. “i think you would, little slut.”

he stuck it slowly, his cock entered centimeter by centimeter, sinking into that wet and tight heat, and he moaned low, with his forehead resting on your shoulder. you moaned softly sleepy, your body arching slightly.

"shhh, babydoll." ben whispered in your ear, his voice hoarse. "go back to sleep, baby. daddy is taking care of you.”

ben stood there, buried inside you, feeling every pulse, every involuntary contraction of your pussy around his cock.

he cum inside you with a low and relieved moan, his hips pressed against yours, his cock pulsating as it gushed all inside you. his hands squeezed your hips hard, pulling you against him as if he wanted to bury more, as if he wanted to melt inside you.

"hmm fuck..." he whispered, his voice failing.

he stayed there inside you for a long minute, panting, the sweat dripping from his forehead to your neck. when he finally managed to move, he pulled his cock out slowly, and what he saw made him even harder, even though he had just come.

his cum flowed from your pussy in a thick white thread, slowly going down to your ass, wetting the sheet under you. he observed, hypnotized. you kept sleeping, your lips ajar, your chest rising and falling calmly, completely oblivious to the fact that you were with the pussy full of daddy's cum.

"look at you." he whispered, running two fingers through the cum that flowed and pushing back inside you, as if he wanted to keep every drop. "you’re only good for this, hm? to please your daddy.”

he lay down next to you and pulled the blanket over the both of you, but not before giving a long, wet kiss on your forehead. his hand went down to your pussy and stayed there, caressing the wet lips until he fell asleep.

a/n: heyyyy!! just wanted to say that english isn't my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes :// this is the first fic i’ve ever written, so feedback is always welcome! also, sorry if i missed any tags, still getting used to this lol. hope u like it! :D

[bruisedfig]

thinking about SOLDIER BOY holding you down and forcing you to take his fingers…

cw: left alone once again to babysit the infamous supe in a dingy motel, but he’s finally had enough of your quick mouth and rejection towards his unwanted advances.

cw: smut, dubcon, forced fingering, mention of hitting/smacking, ben being foul, slight manhandling, forced proximity? 18+

soldier boy x mouthy!fem!reader ⋮ wc: 2.7k

you were curled up on the end of the motel couch, opposite soldier boy, trying to avoid meeting his dreaded stare. his lustful eyes roamed over you—you could feel the way he practically undressed you in his mind—and it sickened you.

he was a pig.

and he’d been a pig since the minute he’d met you, throwing out half-assed comments just to irk you, like how “women didn’t dress like you in his day” and how “thighs like yours are ones he’d be happy to die between.”

you were beyond repulsed by ben and more than tired of the constant barrage of unwelcome propositions. you thought he was revolting; you’d physically recoil anytime his booming voice filled the room with another vulgar comment, but somewhere deep down… there was always a tiny little flicker in your stomach that made your core clench.

“babydoll…”

eugh… you felt his gaze turn to you, abandoning the old army show rerun on the box television, and instead falling over you with an obvious desire.

“c’mon, don’t ignore me now. it’s rude, don’t you know?” he continued, dragging out his words, all low and velvety smooth.

you didn’t dare look up from your phone; you didn’t want to—engaging in any kind of conversation with ben was redundant. you didn’t need to hear the repeat stories of his glory days or the time he had sex with a celebrity that was long dead by now.

“hey, i’m talking to you,” ben huffed, tilting his head. “c’mere.”

that got your attention… unfortunately. you let your eyes lift up from your phone screen, meeting his, which shone with his typical glimmer of arrogance.

“there she is.”

you sighed, “can you zip it? just go back to watching your show.” you waved a dismissive hand at him and looked back down at your phone, intending to keep doomscrolling like you’d been doing since butcher dropped you off to ‘babysit’ this morning.

“jesus– can you not be on that fucking little screen thing for five minutes? i said c’mere. don’t give me attitude.” ben patted the sofa cushion next to him, the one between you both, his hand lingering on the fabric as he watched you, waiting.

“ben,” you lifted your gaze again, “i’m not interested in whatever little game you’re–”

before you could comprehend it, ben’s hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you over to him in one smooth motion. a loud yelp punched its way out of your throat at the sudden movement. he was quick to manhandle you onto his lap, his hands resting on the plush of your thighs.

your brain eventually caught up, and you huffed, angry and full of disgust. “no, let me off now,” you scoffed.

ben chuckled, the sound low and full of mirth. “no can do, babydoll. got you right where i want ya.”

you sneered and tried to pull yourself away, but ben’s hands were quick, tugging you right back down onto his lap, holding you there with a force that he had lacked before, dipping into his ungodly strength. “don’t. you’re staying here while i watch my show, toots. so get comfortable.”

the sneer on your face worsened—an ugly expression that pulled at your features. it only made ben smirk more.

“no, let me off now!”

ben tutted, shaking his head in amusement. “such a mouthy little thing. y’got no survival instincts, do you, darlin’? talking back to a man like me? i could snap you in half without breakin’ a sweat,” he mused, his calloused hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

you shuddered at his touch and narrowed your eyes at his words. “yeah? so do it then. snap me in half if you’re so fucking eager.”

ben laughed again, this time a deep chortle right from his core. “aww, angel, don’t poke the bear. i’ve hit a lot of mouthy little girls for less.”

“yeah? did you feel good putting your hands on them? do you feel good putting your hands on me, huh? do you feel big and strong?” you continued, letting your mouth fly as usual, an unabashed confidence dripping from your biting tone.

ben watched as you spoke, his face contorting with sheer amusement and intrigue. no girl had ever talked to him like that—so loud and unapologetically direct. it was a nice change of pace, ben figured, but he was not a man to tolerate disrespect, and so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to push you just a little bit further.

“oh, it felt real good, honey… but i bet it’d be even better seeing your face all red and blotchy from a few smacks. bet you’d be one of those blubbering little things, probably beggin’ me to stop cause it hurts or some other fuckin’ bullshit.”

he watched your eyes narrow once more, the cogs in your head spinning as you absorbed his words.

“you’re a sexist pig,” you finally spat out.

“yeah, maybe i am. but you’re not fighting to get off my lap anymore,” he chuckled, squeezing at your thighs.

you groaned angrily, starting back up again, squirming in his lap, trying to pull away.

“let go!”

“no, sweets. you’re stayin’ here until my show’s over. i want some company, and you’re the only one here.”

“i was fine sitting over there!”

“and now you’re fine here. so shut up and relax, or i’ll make you.”

your lip curled. you could tell by the look on ben’s face and the way his hands were massaging your thighs that he was serious. you didn’t dare acknowledge the strange feeling the contact was inducing in your stomach.

“no,” you tried.

“yes.”

“no, let me off.”

“nope, stay fuckin’ still. you can get off when my show’s over, alright? just another thirty minutes. you can handle that, can’t you? you’re a big girl,” ben cooed, though it was anything but sweet, instead a taunt to rile you up further.

you paused at his tone, taking a moment to study his face. his brows raised, his expression daring you to challenge him again, and his plump pink lips were still curved into his stupid smirk.

you swallowed down your bruised pride before sighing. “do you promise? thirty minutes?”

“i do, doll. thirty minutes and you can get up and sit as far away from me as y’like.”

you huffed, taking another moment to decide. you were beyond repulsed, but his grabby hands, which you knew hid scary amounts of superstrength, made you think twice.

“fine. thirty minutes.”

“mhm, just thirty minutes.”

ben’s head tilted at your words, his green eyes flickering between yours in satisfaction.

“get comfortable then, girly.”

you huffed, holding in a deeper groan of frustration, and leaned down, reluctantly pressing against him as you rested your head on his shoulder. your arms came around his head, and you settled in—albeit a little uncomfortably—and started scrolling on your phone once more on the back of the couch.

ben enjoyed the way you gave in and pressed against him, the complete contact of your chest against his lighting a fire in his stomach. “atta girl. get cozy f’me,” he cooed again, letting his arms wrap around you.

his warm hands gently rubbed up and down your back, somewhat mindlessly, as he went back to watching the television.

the time quickly passed, and your body slowly melted into his as your anger from before began to settle. you scrolled through your internet trash, whatever was on your feed, just to give yourself something to do as ben’s hands gently travelled over you.

though eventually, his hands had made their way down and met the back of your thighs, gripping at your flesh softly. you sighed quietly to yourself; you expected this—ben trying to cop a feel—so you ignored it, vowing to just push through until his stupid fucking show finished.

but as the minutes passed, ben’s hands got a little more confident in their exploration. you felt his fingers swipe along your clothed slit. you froze.

“don’t do that,” you huffed quietly, your head still resting on his shoulder.

“hmm, doll?”

“i said don’t touch me like that. don’t,” you warned.

but did ben listen? no, course not.

instead, he let out a deep rumble of a laugh and swiped along you again, this time with more pressure. you felt the pads of his fingers find your clit with ease, gently rubbing it through your shorts—which you were now regretting choosing to wear for the day.

your hips jerked, trying to free yourself from the unpleasant pleasure ben was forcing upon you.

“mmm, don’t. i said stop, b–”

“stay still,” ben muttered, his free hand holding your hip to keep you stationary. his other hand went back to playing with you.

“no, ben. i don’t– i don’t want you touching me.”

“yeah? you’re not fighting very hard to get off.”

you groaned and pulled back on his lap, now able to look him in the eye. you frowned.

“stop.”

your hand grabbed his wrist between your legs, but any attempt to pull it away was futile; his superstrength out-winning your weak hands any day.

“shh, shh, shh,” ben cooed. he let his finger stroke you harder through the fabric.

a moan escaped you, much to your displeasure, and you shifted your hips, frustrated at him and trying to ignore the drooling of your cunt.

“ben, stop,” you whined, trying to sound firm, though the sound was a pathetic noise, taking you by surprise.

“baby, you don’t want me to stop. just shh and take it. be a good girl for once.”

“ben–”

“shh, let me play with you.”

before you could fight it, ben had slipped his slimy hand under the fabric of your shorts and into your underwear. his fingers met your wet heat, and you whimpered—slightly in discomfort, slightly in anticipation.

“shit, so wet, babydoll. you’re a fuckin’ liar. don’t want this, ben. wah, wah, wah. just a little goddamn liar with a fountain between her legs,” ben mocked.

he let his fingers rub slow teasing circles through your folds, kissing your clit with just the right amount of friction to make your pussy weep more for him.

“don’t want it,” you whined again, “don’t– please.”

a huff exited ben’s mouth. “yeah, sure you don’t. that’s why this pretty pussy is gushing for me right now. s’why you’re getting all huffy and stuttering. just sit back and let me make you feel good. it’ll shut you up for once.”

you frowned and let your eyes fall shut. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response. you stayed splayed on his lap, your thighs spread over his meaty ones as he played in your underwear. his fingers moved quicker, toying with your swollen bud with expertise.

you felt the clench of your stomach, and your hands shot out, grabbing his biceps for stability.

“oh, there we go. you’re close, huh? yeah, that’s it.”

the noises you made were whiny and loud, stuttering breaths that were half in fight and half in pleasure. your hands gripped at his firm muscles as your core squeezed, fighting off the wave of ecstasy from washing over.

“c’mon, now. just let go f’me, doll. i can feel this pretty pussy holdin’ out on me.”

his fingers rubbed harder against your tender nerves, the friction slickening up your pussy in preparation—what a traitor. you squeezed and whined, your hips jerking around in his lap as his fingers moved through your folds.

“cum, baby. c’mon,” ben murmured, watching your face scrunch and twitch, reacting to what he was doing between your thighs.

one final circle over your clit forced open the floodgates and let your orgasm rip through you. you moaned loudly, collapsing against ben’s front as he rubbed you slowly, drawing out your high. your slick covered his fingers more, and his free hand met your back, rubbing up and down your spine soothingly.

“mmm, there we go, honey. did that feel good? you liked soldier boy doing that to you?” he laughed, letting his fingers wander through your tumescent folds.

you whined into his neck as you felt them tease your entrance—his fat fingertips circling around the sensitive opening, sending electricity flying up your spine, dizzying your brain upon arrival.

“answer me.”

his voice was sharp but hiding a gentleness behind it, like he wanted you present with him.

“mmm, yeah…” you mumbled out against the tanned skin of his neck.

“yeah, baby? was good?”

his middle and ring fingers circled your opening one last time before slipping in. your jaw dropped at the pleasant stretch, and then a moan toppled out as he curled them up into the spongey spot that made your hips buck forward.

“oh, that’s it,” he hummed, rhythmically curling his fingers against your gspot. “such a tight little pussy for me. squeezing my fingers like crazy, sweetheart. s’like a little virgin cunt,” ben laughed.

his amusement continued as he fingerfucked you, drawing out your sweet melodic sounds of pleasure. you melted against him entirely, willingly letting him violate your pussy with his slimy fingers that had a history of violence but now were gentle and calm inside your slick walls.

ben revelled in your moans against his neck, the pretty sounds sending all his blood down south to his slowly engorging hunk of meat. you could feel it pressing into your thigh under his sweatpants—the sheer girth of it making your head spin as you thought about taking him inside you.

you whined into his neck again, feeling the combination of thoughts and his fingers driving you closer to finishing a second time.

“shit, listen to you, babydoll. so fuckin’ mouthy before, but all i needed to do was plug your pussy with my fingers and suddenly you’re a broken little slut,” ben chortled.

“don’t be mean,” you muttered out meekly, your breath ragged as your orgasm impended.

“oh, baby. this ain’t me being mean. i could be a whole lot meaner if you’d like me to.”

you shook your head into his neck, letting out a soft hum. ben chuckled, still forcing his thick digits into your hole, his curling motions almost like he was digging for gold inside your gummy walls.

“gonna cum for me again?”

you nodded. “please.”

“oh, there we go. that’s a good sweet girl. so polite, using your manners like that. that's what i like to see.”

ben’s fingers moved faster, making your core tighten again around them, working you up right to the edge again with his quick dexterity. his free hand held the back of your head into his neck, his thumb softly rubbing up and down your nape. 

“c’mon… let go for me.”

you followed his instructions, which was so unlike you, and he felt your cunt drool and flutter around his fingers as another melody of moans escaped your mouth, travelling right up into his ear.

“oh, good girl… goooood girl,” ben hummed and turned to place a gentle kiss on your temple as he fingered you through your second high.

your core continued to clench around his fingers, coating them in your sweet juices as they dribbled out onto his palm. you couldn’t help yourself from groaning into his ear, the sounds ragged and breathless—like you’d given up, like you weren’t fighting him anymore.

as you simmered down from your peak, and your walls stopped tightly hugging his digits, ben slowly retracted his now-pruned fingers from inside you. you hummed into his neck at the empty feeling, and he chuckled, his clean hand pulling you away from his neck so you could look at him.

ben raised his hand covered in you, his fingers and palms both drenched in the juices he’d managed to pull from you with ease. “you don’t get mouthy with me anymore, got it? cause look what i can do to you… the next time you need an attitude readjustment, i won’t be so nice.”

his eyes stayed on you as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking off the slick from his skin, tasting you. he groaned loudly, and a smirk grew on his lips. “shit,” he pulled his fingers away, “such a sweet taste for such a nasty piece of work.”

fig yaps: i am so back baby! was too depressed to write but then i thought abt soldier boy fingering me and now here we are LOL i hope u enjoyed !!! i was seriously fighting the urge to include a daddy kink in this but i refrained :( bc some people really don’t like it and i wanna write a mix of content !!!! anyways ily thank u for reading BYE <3

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