adoredawn - Tumblr blog

adoredawn · 8 days ago

Text

˚₊·��̳͟͞͞♡ — thinking about SOLDIER BOY helping soothe your post-sex soreness .ᐟ

loosely based on / set after this lil drabble

warnings: smut, fingering, fauxcest, daddy kink, use of ‘dad’ and ‘daddy’, use of other petnames, somno(?), age gap, est. relationship (daddy!soldier boy x fem!reader) 18+

wc: 2.1k ⋮ read at your own discretion

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your cunt ached like it had been ripped in half, sore from how merciless ben had been when impaling you with his cock, spearing you open like he’d die without your warmth wrapped around him. your clit throbbed—not in the pleasant way—and you were sure your cervix was bruised.

you were pressed against ben’s firm chest, his meaty arms wrapped around you, circling your body like a cocoon. you could smell his musk through his shirt; it was smokey and deep, mixed with a smidge of sweat—a masculine scent that made your stomach churn with delight, something familiar and comforting.

ben’s snores were loud as they bounced around the walls in your bedroom, deep gruff noises that came right from the bottom of his lungs. the sight of ben in your room was still bizarre—america’s big burly ex-golden boy, tucked away under your sheets in your girly little bedroom, filled with books and candles and too many things with frills and sparkles. it was almost humorous the way he stood out amongst your things.

yet, somehow, he fit in perfectly.

you didn’t quite understand how you and ben had come about, but for some reason, you worked. you made sense. you sought comfort, and he gave it—no questions asked. you fall over and scrape your knee? ben’s there patching you up, drying your tears. ben has an episode, just staring off into space as he relives the horrors of his time held captive in russia? you’re there, slotted into his lap, letting him breathe you in until his heartrate slows back down and the life reenters his eyes.

yin and yang—a soft little thing to his hardened self.

you could hear the slow breaths exhaling from ben’s lungs as you cuddled into his side. he was deep asleep, dozing carelessly as you twitched against him.

the ache between your legs was growing stronger, a painful dull sensation throbbing inside you. you whimpered, trying to squeeze your eyes shut, like that would make the pain go away.

you felt ben shift.

“mmm, baby?”

his voice was low and gravelly, riddled with sleepiness; a pleasant sound that would otherwise have you smiling if the aching between your legs wasn’t continuously nagging at you.

“you’re awake. why’re you awake?” ben muttered again, this time pulling you back to meet his gaze. your eyes blinked, and he let out a drowsy sigh, taking in the state of you. “up past your bedtime, babydoll. you’re meant to be sleeping.”

ben’s hazy green eyes continued to dart around your face, lingering on your creased brows and trembling pouted lips. his face softened. “what’s wrong?”

a whimper escaped you, and you shook your head. “hurts…” you managed to squeak out.

his brows shot up slowly, the drowsiness starting to vacate his features as he studied you, mild concern growing on his face instead. “what hurts, baby?”

“inside.”

ben blinked, staying quiet for a moment before murmuring softly. “inside? you mean your pussy, baby? your pussy hurts?”

you nodded.

“oh, sweetheart,” ben sighed, slipping his hands under your arms and pulling you up against him more. he sat up against the plethora of pillows adorning your headboard and tucked your head into his neck, stroking your hair in a way that seemed unusually soft coming from him. “m’sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to hurt you, you know that.”

quiet little noises made their way up your throat and into his neck. “i know…”

“yeah? course you do. you’re my smart girl, huh?” ben agreed, his voice verging on mocking. he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline, letting his thick fingers tangle in your locks. “s’it just your pussy, or your tummy too?”

“just my…” you trailed off. your voice was meek, filled with embarrassment and shame, as if you’d done something wrong.

ben caught on quick.

“just your pretty pussy? that’s okay, honey,” he said softly. “m’sorry i hurt you, kiddo. should’ve been more careful with my special girl, yeah? you’re just a little thing, all fragile and delicate. i forget you’re breakable, baby. you aren’t like me.”

ben felt you nod into his neck, and his heartbeat slowed right down. there you were. even in pain, you were nothing short of a sweetheart—his good little girl, so agreeable, so sweet, just submitting to his words in exchange for his comfort and care. he couldn’t help but grin.

“silly daddy, huh? i was bad to you… took you too rough, didn’t i? fucked that tight little cunt too hard?” he muttered, letting his words soak into the air. he felt you lapping them up, letting them absorb into your tired brain, just the way he intended them to. “maybe i should say sorry to her. make her see how bad i feel for bein’ mean. do you think she’d like that, sweetheart? dad telling your pussy he’s sorry?”

your insides clenched. you knew anything ben was planning to do was going to end in tears and even more overstimulation, but at the same time, you felt your head spinning and your cunt preemptively spewing out slick in preparation.

ben tugged your head back, gripping the hair at your nape to make you meet his eyes. “words, bub.”

his hand darted down past the waistband of your sleep shorts, forcing its way into your underwear as he waited for you to respond. you winced as his fingers found your bud.

ben chuckled, “oh, so we’re just noises right now? not using your big girl words f’me?”

he rubbed slowly at your clit, setting alight the nerves that sent waves of pleasure up your spine. ben watched your face change; what was once scrunched up in agony had now softened into parted lips and hazy eyes.

“yeah, that’s it. daddy’s making it all feel better, huh? could’ve just said you wanted dad, angel. if only you used your brain, you dopey little thing.”

he huffed in delight when a whimper fell from your lips. he circled your nerves, feeling your thighs clamp tight around his hand and your cunt muscles pushing back against the light friction he was creating under his fingertips.

“mhm, can feel her waking up, baby. can y’feel your pretty pussy sayin’ hi to dad?” he chuckled, all breathy and mocking.

your hips began to roll themselves against his hand, searching for pleasure in the quiet moment between the two of you. his fingers slipped up and down your slick folds, giving you exactly what your body was asking for.

a quiet moan ripped its way out of your mouth, the sound kissing ben’s neck and bouncing up into his ear. he smiled at that. “uh huh, there you are. feeling better already, aren’t ya, kiddo?”

the nod you gave him was involuntary; your body moving on its own again.

“still hurts?” he asked, his tone still soft but now laced with a speck of sincerity—something rare for ben in moments of intimacy.

your throat bobbed as you swallowed down another moan, and you nodded. “mhm, a little… more my insides, though.”

“yeah, babydoll? inside your pretty cunt? maybe daddy should have a feel around?”

ben grinned at the muffled whine you let out into his neck, the sound pathetic and unsure. he slipped his hand further down between your legs, the pads of his fingers finding your slick opening.

you tensed—your body warning you—as you felt him brush past the sensitive nerves that circle your entrance.

ben chuckled. “c’mon, baby. daddy knows what he’s doing here. s’not his first rodeo.”

the stretch of his two middle fingers was unimaginably good, but you were still indescribably tender. your walls fluttered around them, delivering small kisses to his slick-covered skin.

“see? she’s awake. she’s fine, angel. she’s givin’ dad a squeeze too. welcoming me home.”

ben stroked along your walls, the contact forcing your hips to jerk forward and a whine to shoot out of your lungs.

“daddy–” you cried out into his neck.

his fingers scooped deeper into you, curling up into that sweet spot that was still oh-so-sensitive.

“you’re alright, sweetheart. daddy’s got it. m’gonna make the pain go away. just relax, kid.”

the pressure was overwhelming—sore, but so so so satisfying, like pressing into a bruise. your muscles spasmed, and your legs clamped tight around his hand again.

“i said relax.”

ben’s other hand tugged your thighs back open, and he resumed his ministrations inside your cunt, brushing his fingers against your gooey walls.

you squeaked. and whined. and groaned.

but that didn’t stop ben. he could see the pain mixing around with the pleasure on your face. what a sweet little doll. his good girl.

“takin’ it so good, baby. feels good, doesn’t it? better than the ache daddy left in here, huh? he’s sorry about that, honey, he really is,” he cooed into your ear, then placed a kiss on your forehead.

your orgasm was forceful, ripping out of your cunt with determination that left you utterly breathless in his arms. ben’s motions inside you didn’t cease until you finished squirming in his lap—gushing and covering his fingers with your release, gasping into his neck like your breath was being held hostage in your lungs.

“ohhhh, that’s it, babygirl. i knew exactly what this lil’ pussy needed, didn’t i?” he huffed out a rough laugh into your hair and kissed your head again. he kept up his strokes along your sticky walls, slowing them down until his fingers laid dormant inside you.

the throbbing returned as he stilled, the feeling spreading through your overworked core muscles. they squeezed tightly around his fingers, and you groaned quietly.

“such a good girl f’me,” ben murmured. “think daddy can put you back to bed now?”

you shook your head into his neck quickly, letting out a quiet noise. “no… please. i need–”

“no? oh, so we’re being greedy tonight? already fucked you stupid before, doll, and now you want another orgasm?” ben mused. “you’re a greedy girl.”

“please,” was all you could muster up. “still hurts.”

“mhm, sure it does, puppy. but i guess i owe you for hurting your pretty insides, huh?”

ben curled his fingers back up into that spongey spot, starting up his motions inside you once more. a wave of pleasure crashed over you again, wringing out the aching sensation and now replacing it with a warmth in your core.

your hips rolled against his fingers, helping them press harder into your gspot, forcing electrical currents to shoot up your nerves and explode like fireworks in your brain. the pain simmered out once more as ben began pulling another orgasm from you.

your soft delicate noises in his neck had him grinning from ear to ear. you were maddening, just a silly little girl in his arms, wailing softly at his thick fingers digging into you and dulling away the ache that his monster cock had brutally drilled into you.

“mmm, baby. you’re so soft f’me, aren’t you? m’so proud of you, takin’ all of this so well,” he stated in a gentle whisper.

ben was being unusually soft. the combination of his quiet murmurings and free hand rubbing along your spine had you lulled into a fuzzy headspace.

“i could eat you up, darlin’, i really could. you’re my good girl.” he felt you nod into his neck in agreement with his words, and he huffed, amused, “yeah, you are.”

ben continued stuffing your pretty cunt with his fingers, now focused on brushing your clit with the heel of his palm too. good submissive girls get extra special care, or at least ben thought so.

within a few minutes he’d pulled another orgasm from you, smirking to himself triumphantly as you twitched in his arms, breathlessly whining at the feeling between your legs.

“uh huh, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” ben hummed. “why don’t you just close your eyes, pumpkin? dad’s got you. you just try to sleep, alright? daddy’s not going anywhere.”

your eyes fluttering closed was instantaneous. ben loved it—how quick you were to always follow his orders, whether you wanted to or not.

“atta girl,” he cooed. he placed another gentle kiss on your forehead and whispered into your hairline, “i got ya, baby. just keep your eyes shut.”

ben’s fingers dug into you at a steady pace, keeping up a constant stream of pleasure inside your core. his other hand continued to rub up and down your back, holding you tight against his torso, soothing you while you tried to relax.

a few minutes passed, and ben could already feel your body weight pressing into him, accompanied by your slow deep breaths against his neck; you were already falling asleep.

ben hummed in amusement—you were his sweet dozey little thing. he didn’t let his fingering falter for a moment, but instead continued the curling motions as he felt you finally melt into him fully. he smiled to himself, resting his lips against your head. “that’s my good girl. you’re so fuckin’ sweet… and too fuckin’ good f’me.”

fig yaps: *gulps nervously* was this too much?? LMFAOOO idc daddy soldier is so fun to write bye this is for the daddy issues girlies and if it ain’t you i don’t wanna hear it 🤚🏼 <3

⟡ taglist: @abellmunsonmovie @cryingdew @floralscented @deansbeer @honeyyxxbee @ilovedilfs-4-ever @soldiersgirl @jensenacklesballsack @beausling @sturnspup @bluemerakis @luvmes-things @n-o-p-e-never @dubina-dawkins @fawncried @jasvtsc @starzify @bejeweledinterludes @sbwifey @nymphet-quenn @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @minettacreekk @sapphic-destiel @tinas111 @skutykocur @completedust @clitsout4clark @diner-girl @littlejoels @tortureddarkstar @angelically-yours @pieandflannel @angelicjackles @cherrygirl444 @confuzzled-waffle @spookyysinsanity @ccupidzbvnni @euphoriabyjk2 @jackles010378 @cupidzbunny @slayjjuni @lanasgirlfr @celebrinigf @briisbananass @hueswithblues @siddyyyyyyyy @manicjk @ackl3z @defnot-svnshine @sunnyteume @shannonxg

join my taglist here! or message me to be removed! <3

601 notes · View notes

adoredawn · 8 days ago

Text

#i need this so bad

334 notes · View notes

adoredawn · 9 days ago

Text

14K notes · View notes

adoredawn · 20 days ago

Text

when i’m reading an ‘x reader’ and he calls me his pretty girl

6K notes · View notes

adoredawn · 20 days ago

Text

Laura Lee was so me in this scene. Because one would think you'd run with joy towards your suitcase after crashing the plane in the wilderness, to salvage what's left for your survival.

But no, she reached for her teddy bear right away. And that is such a valid response to what's just happened to her. It's the last piece of innocence she's able to hold on to before plunging into the horrors of the wilderness and survival.

1K notes · View notes

adoredawn · 20 days ago

Note

dads best friend ben. pls. i love u.

cw: smut.ᐟ dbf!ben x reader.ᐟ au non-supe ben.ᐟ age gap [reader is in her 20s].ᐟ reader lives at home.ᐟ oral / face fucking [m.receiving].ᐟ dubcon.ᐟ power imbalance.ᐟ vulgar!ben.ᐟ pervy!ben.ᐟ cocky old man behavior.ᐟ suggestive tones.ᐟ pet names [honey, sweetheart pretty girl, sweet girl].ᐟ 18+

#notes: anon, this may have given me a reason to write one of my favourite tropes of all time. apologies if it's too filthy.

wc: 2500

ben's not a stranger, not by a long shot.

he's been in your life since you were old enough to climb onto the back deck barefoot with juicebox in hand and tug your dad’s sleeve to ask who the loud man with the beard was. “that’s ben,” your dad had told you, already half-smiling. “he’s a trouble maker sweetie.”

trouble, yeah. but familiar. too familiar, now. somewhere between scraped knees and summer jobs, ben stopped treating you like a kid.

at twenty, you came home from college for reading week. ben was already there hanging out, lounging at the kitchen island in a white tee and sweats— no boxers, never any boxers.

he smiled when he saw you. “well shit, look what the fuckin’ wind blew in,” and then pulled you in for a tight hug. one arm above the dip on your waist, the other dragging across your upper back.

“c’mon, give the old man a spin. lemme see what college did to ya.” he murmured near your ear. you pulled back. his hand lingered too long, eyes dropped too slow. he clicked his tongue when you turned to leave and gave him the middle finger.

twenty-one. ben was staying in your basement that week while his house was getting work done— busted pipes, or drywall, or whatever fucking excuse he gave your dad to crash for free and drink all his beer.

you came downstairs to throw a load of laundry in. figured he’d be out with your dad like usual, but he was in the den recliner. his hand was tucked under the waistband of his sweatpants, not doing anything at first, just resting.

he didn’t move when you walked past. a subtle glance at you with those heavy-lidded eyes and adjusted himself once, palm shifting under the fabric. “relax, sweetheart,” he muttered without looking up from the TV. “just fixin’ the boys.”

that same week, you caught the bathroom door cracked open. steam poured into the hall, and in the mirror— his back, broad and freckled, towel hanging off his hips. and his cock, swinging low and heavy as he dried off without a care in the world. he wanted you to see.

then twenty-two, you were eating cherries out of the fridge, standing in front of the open door in a tank and sleep shorts. ben came in behind you, opened another beer, and leaned his hip against the counter. watching you pop the pits into your palm with your thumb.

“you always suck ‘em like that?” he asked, voice thick with something. you looked up and blinked. “the cherries,” he said, cocking his head. “you always roll ‘em around in your mouth? jesus christ, honey.” you tried your best to not let it go to your head, or better yet your cunt. but ben walked away before you had time to come up with an answer.

so yea, ben wasn’t a stranger. if anything, he was around too much— laughing too loud in your kitchen, always grabbing a beer from the fridge like he lived there. and he looked at you too long, lingered too close, stared in ways no friend of your dad’s ever should’ve.

all the while, your father had no fucking clue.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you’d been hearing them for the past hour— voices rising above the hum of the tv, the familiar thud of beer bottles against the kitchen counter, bursts of laughter so loud and guttural it rattled the light fixture in the hallway. ben's voice somewhere in the mix, always the loudest when he was around.

your father had called up to you a few minutes ago. asking you to come down to say hi, be polite. you almost didn’t, but with a roll of your eyes you did anyways.

the air was thick with a mix of cologne and stale beer when you stepped into the kitchen. five grown men crowded around the island— your dad, a few of his old work buddies, and ben, standing leaned back against the sink. the counter was cluttered with empty bottles, and fresh one's sweating in a lopsided cooler on the floor.

“there she is,” your dad said, smile splitting his face as he reached out to tug you into a side hug. “my girl’s staying in for the weekend.”

the others echoed their greetings, nods and smiles, but ben moved first. arms outstretched like it was nothing, pulling you in close with that slow grin he always wore when he'd had a few. his arms circled your waist, and you didn’t have time to hesitate before he kissed the top of your head— too sweet for someone who wasn’t family.

“‘bout time you showed up,” he murmured, half-drunken buzz clinging to every word. his hand lingered at your back a moment too long.

you stepped back, muttered something about grabbing a drink, and drifted to the living room couch where the tv flickered low. your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. the voices carried in from the kitchen.

“—nah, this one chick in montana, swear to god, made her cum just from sucking on her tits,” ben was saying, loud enough to be heard clearly from the living room. "poor thing couldn’t walk straight for days.”

more laughter. someone groaned. your dad barked a laugh. “you’re a fucking pig, ben.”

“takes one to know one,” he shot back, and you could feel the cockiness in his voice.

every time he told another story, his voice got bolder, more descriptive. women who’d sent him videos. girls who liked it rough. a flight attendant he once made cry— but in the ‘good way’, apparently. and every time, you caught his gaze slipping past the kitchen archway, trailing toward the couch. right towards you.

ben never said your name or directed a word your way. but he was aiming every filthy syllable at you— baiting you with the past he lived in and the kind of man he’d always been. the kind of man your dad kept around for god knows what reason.

he still hadn’t touched you. not really. not after all these years. but you knew him long enough to know that look. the half-drunk and cocky, beer bottle dangling from two fingers, eyes heavy-lidded and hungry.

eventually, the back door creaked open and the pack of them spilled outside. boots scuffed across the deck, someone cracked a joke about cigars and a bonfire, and the sharp metallic flick of a lighter snapped through the air.

you waited until the laughter dulled, and the drag of their boots faded to the backyard. the silence left behind made the house feel too big. told yourself you were only heading upstairs to get away from the smell of cigarettes and beer that lingered, and noise and him.

but the truth followed you with every step. ben's voice still echoing in your ears. all those stories. the stares. the weight of it never letting up. you slipped into your room, shut the door behind you, and pressed your back to it— just for a second. breathing in, chest tight. thighs tighter.

you didn’t bother locking it. some rational part of you knew better. but a part of you hoped. either way, the click of the knob turning minutes later didn’t surprise you.

“so this is where you hide, huh?”

you barely had time to look up before he was leaning in the doorframe, eyeing the mess of your room like he belonged in it.

“couldn’t handle bein’ near me anymore?”

you stiffened, fingers curled tighter in the edge of your blanket. “i was just tired—”

“bullshit,” he cut in, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him as if it was nothing. “you pressed those thighs together so tight i thought you were gonna make yourself come right there on the fuckin’ couch.” his voice lowered as he walked towards you. “you been like this for years,” he said. “ always sweet. lookin’ at me when you thought no one would notice.”

you looked away feeling sick with shame, but you couldn't even help the way your thighs clenched again.

“i mean fuck, look at the tits on you,” thick with booze and that low, too-casual slur that made your skin crawl. “y'filled out real nice, honey.”

you stiffened. he laughed, cruel under his breath. “what? you ain’t gonna say thank you when someone gives you a compliment now?”

he cupped himself through his jeans, palming the tent in his pants like he needed the relief, cause it was your fault he was hard.

“y'know, your dad would kill me if he knew what i used to think about when I was in that basement,” he muttered, almost to himself. “how bad i wanted to pull those shorts to the side and eat your cunt until you cried.” he paused a moment, watching your reaction.

“i always wanted to see if it’d taste as sweet as you looked down there all summer, bendin’ over in those tight outfits. thought you were subtle, huh?”

your knees buckled just slightly, but he caught your chin with two fingers, turning your face back toward him.

“nah, pretty girl. you always wanted me lookin’. fuck, you know what it does to a man? seein’ his girl grow up that pretty— walkin’ around the house in tiny shorts, not wearin’ a bra." ben's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "and now here we are.” his hand slid down to grip your jaw. “door’s shut. nobody comin’ up here, and you’re still lookin’ at me with those same curious eyes.”

“m'gonna kiss you now. would you like that, sweet girl?” his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, watching you nod as he closed the distance between you two.

the clink of metal hitting metal made your stomach drop. starting with his belt, the zipper next— drawn down in a drag of teeth, loud in the stillness of the room.

and then he shoved his jeans down low on his hips, underwear pushed just far enough to free his cock— flushed pinks and reds and already leaking. coarse hair dark brown at the base, a heavy trail leading up his soft belly, dusted thick across his lower abdomen.

“yeah,” he smirked, watching you watch him. he wrapped a fist around the base, letting you see the dribbles of premium oozing from his slit.

“this what you think about when you’re touchin’ yourself, honey?” he asked, voice turned rougher, eyes half-lidded with heat. “you ever think about me while you had those little fingers stuffed inside your cunt? wonderin’ how much bigger i’d feel?”

his free hand found your chin again. this time, he held you still, made you look right at it. chubbed up, cut, flushed dark at the tip, glistening from the weight of his need.

“don’t be scared now,” he mocked, voice laced with sarcasm. “go on, you can touch it, won’t bite.”

your knees hit the floor a second later, thighs tight together from the way your whole body pulsed with heat.

“good fucking girl,” ben groaned, hand sliding to the back of your head. “knew you’d be good on your knees.” he let go of his cock, let it slap against your cheek, smearing pre-come across your skin as he nudged the tip along your plush lips.

“open up, sweetheart,” he rasped. “lemme see that tongue.” and when you did, he spit, landing right down against the shaft, guiding his cock into your mouth.

your smaller hands barely wrapped around his shaft, hands gripping at the base while you looked up at him. saliva already pooling and sliding down your chin. but ben didn’t care.

his hand tightened in your hair as he rolled his hips forward, just to feel your sudsy lips covered with bubbles of spit, choking on the length that slowly penetrated the back of your mouth. your nose started to nestle against the scratchy corse hairs at the base of his cock. he held you all the way down for a moment, revelling in the tightness of your throat.

ben's thrusts were getting sloppy. the heel of his palm pressing against the back of your head to hold you down, to make you take it.

“hear that?” he grunted. “fuckin’ mouth's squeezin’ me.”

your fingers curled against his thighs, trying to keep balance as he used your mouth, hips jolting harder now, ragged breath above you.

“shit, m'not gonna last,” he warned, barely holding together. “gonna shoot it right down that pretty fuckin’ throat. s’what you wanted all those years, right? daddy’s friend fuckin’ your face.”

he twitched in your mouth, grip tightening, and before you could brace for it, he came with a ragged groan— creamy splats over your tongue, too fast to swallow.

you tried, but it flooded your mouth, smeared down your chin, dripped onto your shirt. you coughed around it, choking, the mess forcing you back off him. attempting to apologize while blinking down salty tears mixed with mascara.

ben leaned down with a crooked grin. “if you were really sorry, you would’a swallowed like a good girl.”

his hand slid down your throat, then carefully swiped through the mess coating your skin. he brought a slick glob up on his index finger, holding it steady in front of your lips.

“but nah,” he murmured, full of mock disappointment. “you’re just a dirty slut who spilled it all.” his finger hovered there. “open.”

you blinked up at him, chest still heaving, lips parting slowly.

“there she is,” he rasped, watching as your tongue flicked out and pulled his finger in, sucking it clean like a fuck toy for his personal use.

you barely had time to catch your breath before the faint scrape of deck chairs sounded from below, a voice calling out through the screen door.

“ben? the fuck are you man, fire's blazing out here.”

your stomach dropped. ben’s head snapped up. he moved quick—tucking his softening messy cock back into his jeans, still half-hard, zipping up with a hiss and wiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“get in bed,” he muttered, no room for question. “pretend you're asleep.”

you nodded, messy as fuck, and crawled up on to your mattress on weak limbs. the sheets were still warm where you’d left them, but nothing about you felt the same.

ben watched for a second longer, hand braced on the doorknob. then he slipped out without another word, quiet as he could, shutting it behind him with the softest click.

you lay there in the dark, heart thudding, mouth still tingling where he’d touched it— his salty taste lingering thick on your tongue.

downstairs, your father laughed at something ben said, some excuse he'd conveniently made up.

and you turned your face into the pillow, trying to hold back a fucking smile.

tags: @tinas111 @fancyhideoutpeach @kimxwinchester @soldiersgirl @lanasgirlfr @unfortunate-brat @bruisedfig @angelically-yours @winchestersbgirl @spnaquakindgdom @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @pieandflannel @bejeweledinterludes @deanstubble @sunnyteume @clitsout4clark @sunnyfuffly @deansbeer @claymoresofinfamy23 @beforeroachfalls @capkatie @sbwifey @thesevnthseal @lunaleah @prettywhenipanic @defnot-svnshine @coventina2001 @adoredawn @averagedenjienjoyer0290 @scrmqwn @littlejoels @lori19 @tinysunshine @luvriablack @hueswithblues @lupinslibraries @a-lil-pr1ncess @lovtaesunu @beausling @lacysretribution @eternalstaar @maleficdean @ladykitana90 @n0t-vzin1s @deansposessive @quinnsdesk @okyouknowwhat @castielsonlyangel @maanlikemoon @viluren

⟢ if you would like to be added to / removed from the taglist, check out this post ᥫ᭡.

⟢ view my masterlist for more !!

668 notes · View notes

adoredawn · 20 days ago

Text

cw: smut-ish.ᐟ angst.ᐟ comfort.ᐟ dbf!ben x reader.ᐟ au non-supe ben.ᐟ age gap [reader is in her 20s].ᐟ reader lives at home.ᐟ manipulation.ᐟ corruption kink.ᐟ pervy!ben.ᐟ aggressive!ben.ᐟ pet names [sweetheart, baby, baby girl].ᐟ 18+

wc: 3060

you never seemed to keep a boyfriend for very long.

it had been two so far this year, and not a single one ever lasted more than a few weeks past meeting your family— your dad, his buddies, the usual backyard hangout crowd. they’d smile and shake hands and crack open a cold one, and then something always shifted.

texts got slower, plans got canceled, one ghosted you entirely.

another mumbled something about “not being ready for something serious” after he’d just spent the week telling you how into you he was.

you didn’t understand it. what you were doing wrong? they always left just when things started to feel comfortable, right around the time ben was over.

but you never suspected anything. your dad had always been supportive— maybe a little protective, but never pushy. and ben was even better. he’d clap your boyfriends on the back, offer them beers, flash that easy smile that made everyone feel like they belonged.

he made jokes, gave advice, almost played the role of ‘uncle ben’ so well you’d almost forget how long his eyes would sometimes linger on your legs, your lips, your hips when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

not that you ever suspected him. why would you? he was your dad’s oldest friend, practically family. had been around forever— fixing things around the house, cracking jokes that made your cheeks burn.

but he never crossed a line, never touched, never did anything outright.

but you also didn’t catch the way ben’s arm draped casually along the back of the lawn chair, fingers curling into a fist behind your boyfriend’s head. or the way he gripped their hands too tightly for a handshake.

you didn’t catch the way ben looked at them— not friendly, but waiting.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

the first boyfriend you had, was polite, nervous around your dad, always offering to help carry things. not the type you usually went for, but he made you laugh, and he looked at you like he meant it.

ben had come by to drop off a tool he borrowed, that’s all it was. a quick visit— couple of beers, some talk about chainsaws, and a smoke by the shed. but he came through the front, unannounced. let himself in like he always did.

and he wasn’t loud about it either. the creak in the door, barely audible. he stepped inside quiet, out of habit. caught the sound of the tv, soft buzz in the background and then the silouhette of you on the couch.

“anyone in here?” ben called out turning the corner.

you jolted, legs swinging off of your boyfriends lap so fast your knees hit the coffee table. your shirt was rumpled, lips swollen— the boy had been grinding up against you through his jeans.

“ben— fuck, i didn’t hear you come in,” you stammered, tugging the hem of your top straight. wiping your lips off like you just did something unholy.

ben didn’t look at you, he tipped his head toward your boyfriend with a tight smile. “your dad’s wants me riggin’ up a tarp for the smoker, we're gonna need an extra pair of hands, mind helpin’?”

and your boyfriend actually smiled back. standing up with a full fledged boner hidden behind his belt, with a "sure thing, man".

it wasn’t until the sun dipped and everyone had gone inside that ben finally pulled him aside. just the two of them behind the shed, cigarette burning between his fingers, smoke curling against the boy's face.

“so, what is it?” a pause to take a puff. “you fuck her yet?”

your boyfriend choked on his own spit. “excuse me?”

“i said, did you fuck her?” ben asked again, a twitch in his eye. “you put your cock in her, huh? that it? cause see, a sweet girl like that— she ain’t meant to be ruined by some dumb kid’s fingers."

ben leaned in, too close and he sure as hell wasn’t smiling now. “c'mon champ, you ever taste her? she ride your thigh like that often, or just when she’s desperate for it?”

“look man—” the boy took a step back, hands up defensively, “i— i haven’t done anything. i swear. she said she wanted to wait.”

“good,” he muttered finally. “means she ain’t fuckin' ruined.”

and with a little more coercing, and possibly a few mild threats, your boyfriend left the next morning. no text, no explanation, completely ghosted you ever since that day.

the second boyfriend. you were upstairs getting ready for bed. hair still wet from the shower, door cracked, towel slipping low on your hips. ben paused in the hallway. stared just long enough to see the shadow of your figure move in front of your mirror, then kept walking.

your boyfriend was alone in the kitchen. it was late. your dad had gone to bed already. ben should’ve left too, but he didn’t.

“grab me one would'ya?,” ben said, nodding at the fridge as if it was his own.

your boyfriend smiled, pulled two beers. he was nervous— you always dated the nervous ones, the type that tried too hard to fit in. ben cracked his open bottle and leaned back against the countertop.

“you ever think about how young she is?” ben asked suddenly.

the guy blinked. “uh— what? i've only got a few years on her?”

ben took a long sip from the beers spout. “you know what i mean. she’s not some bar slut, she’s still got rules. living in her daddy’s house, under daddy’s roof.” he gave a dry chuckle.

“dude, no,” he said quickly. “it’s not like that.”

ben tilted his head finally. studied him like something under a heat lamp. “you’re tellin’ me you ain’t touched her yet?”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “not like, not all the way, but—”

ben laughed under his breath. shook his head like he was disappointed. “she’s sweet,” he murmured. “ and too fuckin’ good for you.”

“well, i like her,” the guy insisted. “i’m not trying to hurt her or anything.”

ben stepped closer, eyes dark. “nah. but you’re gonna. sooner or later. they always do. and i’ll be honest with you, kid.” he leaned down, tone dropping low enough to make the hairs rise on the back of his neck. “if you ever come 'round here again, i’ll put your head through drywall and tell her you fell.” ben smiled, mocking but almost pitying. “don’t make me have to explain to her why you stopped calling.”

he patted him on the cheek once, like a father would. then turned and walked down the hall— pausing just once to glance up at the light spilling from your bedroom door.

and that guy left the same night, told you 'it wasnt gonna workout' with no further explanation.

you cried his arms both times— like you always did after things went wrong. the second ben seen your red eyes, he was reaching for you.

“sweetheart,” he said, full of concern. “what happened?”

you tried to wave it off. shook your head, blinked quick like that’d stop the tears, but he was already opening his arms, tugging you into his lap.

“shh, hey now,” he muttered, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other rubbing long, slow strokes down your back. “none of that, baby. you're too good to be cryin’ over some dumb fuck who doesn’t know what he had.”

you sniffled, curled into his chest, and he rocked you just a little— soft and steady, hoping he might lull the ache out of your ribs.

“they don’t get it, sweetheart,” he whispered, mouth near your temple. “you’re somethin’ special. any guy with half a brain would be beggin’ to hold onto you.”

and the second time it happened, he offered to take you for ice cream. said you could drive around in his truck for a while, let the breeze help clear your head. called you his baby girl when you managed a weak smile.

and you didn’t even think to wonder why he was always the one around when your heart got broken.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

you’d kept this third boyfriend to yourself for the first few months— told yourself it was better that way. no pressure or interference. no early opinions from your dad or awkward tension radiating off the man who was fused to your living room couch.

and things were going well this time. there were no red flags, sudden withdrawals, no ghosting or half-hearted apologies through text. and most importantly, now he wanted to meet your family.

after your last ex ended things out of nowhere, it left you hollow and second-guessing everything— if you were too much, too clingy, not pretty enough. the kind of rejection that doesn’t make you angry, just small.

you’d never wondered why ben always showed up the next day. or wondered how he always knew exactly when you needed him.

because now, things were going right— and ben’s been watching you closer. smiling harder, slipping in questions with that easy charm he uses when he wants to pretend something doesn’t matter.

“what’s got my baby girl lookin’ so happy lately?”

you’d simply smiled, not bothering to look up from your phone. “no reason.”

“nah,” he hummed. “there’s always a reason. c’mon now, y'don’t need another silly boyfriend to keep that pretty smile, sweetheart. you’re perfect the way you are.”

your laugh had been small, shoulders hunching like he’d embarrassed you. but you didn’t think much of it. ben said shit like that all the time. always a bit too affectionate, too hands-on, too familiar— but that was just the way ben was.

and so, you finally decided it was time to bring your boyfriend around. your dad didn’t think much of it— he was just glad to see you smiling again. and ben, well, ben had just grinned. “can’t wait to meet him.” with a tick in his jaw that went unnoticed by you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

so, the dinner had been your idea. your boyfriend— months in now, and still going strong— had started asking about finally meeting your dad. and since ben was already over almost every weekend, hanging around like he always had, it made sense to do it all at once.

but by the time you’d set the table, there was a nervousness creeping in under your skin. not from your boyfriend, no, he was charming, polite. even brought your dad a bottle of something expensive as a thank you. he complimented your cooking, even offered to help clean up.

it was because of ben, from the moment he stepped through the front door, something was off.

"mm, smells real good in here," he said, sniffing the air dramatically. "or is it that new scent you been sportin' lately.”

“it’s that strawberry one i bought you—” your boyfriend started from beside you.

ben didn’t even look at him. “s'the lavender vanilla one,” he cut in smoothly, eyes flicking over to you like he’d won fucking first place in a game that wasn't supposed to be played. “ it's a little stronger than usual tonight, ain’t it, sweetheart?”

you shyly laughed, cheeks warming as you smoothed your hands over your thighs. “yea, maybe i went overboard.”

“nah.” ben’s smile twitched into something tighter. “i like it.”

your dad called from the kitchen, and the moment broke— ben shrugging out of his jacket and moving toward him like nothing had happened, patting your boyfriends shoulder, helping with drinks.

ben sat across from the two of you at the table, making himself comfortable like he owned the place. arm hung lazy over the back of your dad’s chair, relaxed in a deliberate way that always meant he was watching everything.

“so," he started casually, tipping his chin toward your boyfriend, “you’re the one that’s got her grinnin’ all the time like that, huh?”

"guess so," your boyfriend chuckled, glancing at you.

"hm." ben smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “lotta pressure, y’know. keepin’ a smile like that on her.”

your dad snorted into his beer. “don’t scare him off now, ben.”

“nah, i mean it,” ben said, eyes flicking back to your boyfriend. “ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ a little protective. not when that someone’s worth protectin’.”

your boyfriend nodded tightly, but he shifted in his seat like he was uncomfortable just sitting there.

you glanced between the two of them, sensing a weird change in the air, but your dad— oblivious— got up from the table with a sigh. “gonna hit the bathroom, don’t let ''em fight while i’m gone.”

the second your dad disappeared down the hall, ben leaned forward, forearms braced on the wood, beer bottle dangling from his fingers.

“so tell me,” he said, tone still smooth, but quieter now. “you think you’re good for her?”

your boyfriend blinked. “uh—yeah. i’d like to think so.”

“you’d like to think so,” ben echoed. “see, that ain’t the same as knowin’. that’s just guessin’. and guessin’ don’t cut it around here.”

“ben,” you warned softly, eyes wide.

“what?” he blinked innocently. “m'just tryin’ to get to know the guy.”

you shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of the tension— how your boyfriend had stopped smiling. and how ben hadn’t looked away from him once. the air had thickened with something unspoken, even as he tilted his head and grinned again, all faux-charm and teeth.

"look," he said, glancing at you. “m’just messin’ with you both. i approve of it, m'happy for you two.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

after dinner, the air was cool outside, crickets humming under the moonlight. porchlight flickering.

your boyfriend had kissed you goodbye by the front door. leaned in with both hands curling a little too low over your ass, even gave a squeeze that made your shoulder jerk with a surprised laugh. you returned still inside, rinsing the dishes with your dad. laughing over some dumb joke ben had told earlier.

your boyfriend didn’t know ben was outside the house. he didn't clock the sharp flick of a lighter or the curling smoke of a cigarette beside the fence, or the way his boots chewed over the gravel when he stepped out of the dark.

“hey.” ben had that wolfish grin on his face, the forced kind of grin that never reached his eyes. “you left somethin’.”

your boyfriend blinked, patting his pockets. “oh shit what—?”

“my fuckin’ patience.” ben grabbed him by the shirt collar before the kid could blink, yanking him back against the rear end of the car with a dull thud.

“jesus, what the fuck man?”

“don’t touch her like that.” ben’s fist was knotted in the cotton of his collar, twisting hard enough the guy had to grab at his wrist. "you shut up and listen to me.” his voice was so quiet, dangerous, the kind of tone that made anyones blood chill even if it wasn’t meant for you.

“you wanna play boyfriend, fine. smile at her, take her out, tell her she’s beautiful. but you pull a stunt like that, in front of me again— hands on her ass, kissin’ her like you own her— and i swear to god—”

“you’re insane—”

ben leaned in closer, his mouth right by the guy’s ear. “if you wanna keep your fingers, you’ll walk away, tonight. tell her you changed your mind, tell her it’s not workin’. i don’t give a fuck how you spin it. you make sure it ends.”

he let the poor guy go, shoved back just hard enough to make him stumble.

“and next time a man’s talkin’ to you, you look him in the fucking eye, or i’ll teach you how real men handle disrespect.”

your boyfriend looked stunned. chest heaving, like he couldn’t decide whether to swing or run.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

but by the next morning— ben knew.

it was barely past noon when he pulled up to the house again. he knew your dad’s out at work for the day, knew it before he even turned onto your street.

still, he knocks at your front door twice, but you don’t answer. and your sniffles gave you away before anything else did. ben opened the door and turned the corner to see you curled up on the couch, knees to your chest.

you look up, startled, and he plays the part— eyes wide with concern, voice gentle like cotton as he crouches down to your level.

“hey now,” he murmurs, brushing a hand over your arm, “what’s all this?”

your face crumples. “ben—” but the words cut short as your mouth wobbles and your eyes squeeze shut, tears spilling hot down your cheeks.

“aw, baby,” he breathes, pulling you in, “c’mere, that’s it. let it out, let it all out.” he cradles your head against his chest, and you just sob—deep, shaking, gut-wrenching.

you not even sure why he’s here. but the warmth as you cling to him, twisting your fists into the front of his shirt, as he pets your hair like you’re some fragile little thing. it was soothing.

“i knew somethin’ was wrong,” he coos, “my poor girl, crying all alone.” his lips press right in to your hairline. “don’t worry, i'm here now.”

he tilts your face up, pads his thumb under your lashes and over the damp skin of your cheeks, placing a soft kiss between your brows. “you’re too good for that kinda heartbreak, sweetheart.”

your breath stutters again, but it’s softer now— easing slowly under the warmth of his voice and the rough pads of his fingers stroking your temple. you fall asleep like that— head resting in his lap, cheek squished against the denim of his jeans, fingers curled against his thigh. he rubs your back in gentle circles, just watching down over you.

ben's other hand drifts over your bare thigh, and his cock is already half-hard beneath you. and it’s not about that right now, not when you look this soft, this innocent.

because if ben can’t have you, then no one else ever will.

⟢ if you would like to be added to / removed from the taglist, check out this post ᥫ᭡.

⟢ view my masterlist for more !!

735 notes · View notes