im not like you are but i wish i could be ᨳଓ
tw. soldier boy x reader. dead dove do not eat. stalking. drug usage. dirty thoughts. wet dreams. dubcon. rapefantasy? kidnapping. stockholm syndrome. fauxcest. forced blowjob. gagging. spit. throat fucking. pussy play. ball licking. cum shot. cum swallowing. language. crying. use of ‘daddy’ & ‘little girl’. ben has a bush. no aftercare. MDNI.
ben never dreamed. not when he was a teenager with his dad yelling at his face. not when he was in that fucking ice box. not when he snorted so much coke the average person would convulse- it was just nothing. darkness.
the world around him changed into something foreign and wasn’t ready to be reintroduced to the soldier boy, vought keeping him a dirty secret in motel rooms being payed off with weed and coke just to be kept under control.
and he was sick of it. he was sick of sitting around and doing nothing. he needed to do something.
its a tuesday afternoon in new york and bens walking the streets. a risky move from him, if vought finds out who knows what they’ll do- but he is number one. he can do whatever he wants. the new twists and turns of the city confused him, leading himself straight to you. a roller covered in white paint clasped between your fingers, headphones sitting over your hair as you covered up a hate poster of starlight.
the short skirt and hoodie, your hair flowing against the wind and the smell of perfume as he walked past making him take a second look at you, then a third. you dont even know he’s there, tongue peeking between your lips in concentration mumbling along to whatever’s playing in your ears. not a care in the world.
he’d take a picture if he could figure out how to use a phone, use voughts face scanner and find you.
late into the next night after he fell asleep with a lit joint between his fingers, he finally dreamed.
In the dream you were naked beneath him, your wrists pinned above your head, your mouth open in a silent scream that wasn't quite fear. He slammed into you rough and punishing and you took it—every inch and every brutal thrust. Your pussy gripped him like a fist, hot and wet and so pure. it was better than any whore he fucked- like teetering on the edge of heaven.
ben knew then that was the beginning of the end.
He started following you. Just to watch, to cure his boredom or so he told himself. theres nothing special about you. You work at a small bookstore in Greenwich Village- not even a supe. You always order the same latte—oat milk with one sugar. You wear your hair in a messy bun when your tired and sometimes you hum when your nervous.
your completely normal so why you? why does he keep seeing your face in the motel walls? why did he dream you were the one who opened the freezer and saved him? your nothing.
The dreams got worse. Darker.
in one he had you tied to his bed, tape over your mouth and tears streaming down your cheeks. He fucked your mouth until you gagged then turned you over and took your ass, slow and savoring every pained whimper. You passed out from the pain, your innocent brain dissolved to mush and he still kept going.
He woke up with cum soaking the dirty sheets and your imaginary scent still in his nostrils.
He decided he couldn't wait anymore.
it was easy to find you using voughts street cameras- the face scanner bringing up your whole name and address, even a criminal record which was clean. he stared at your photo snorting lines until his nose burned, repeating your name on his tongue like a sinful confession.
the night he kicked your door down it was raining. his scuffed boots leaving dirt on your carpet as he made his way to your bedroom, your sleeping form curled between the sheets, eyelashes batting like they were begging him to take you. his thick fingers clamped around your mouth, forcing you to breathe in the chloroform until you were out.
you didn’t even scream.
‘fuckin got you..” he mumbled.
The motel room smelled of stale cigarettes and something chemical—bleach maybe or the cheap air freshener someone had sprayed in a losing battle against the mildew creeping up the bathroom tiles. The blinds were drawn casting the narrow space in a perpetual twilight that made it impossible to tell if it was day or night anymore.
Your wrists ached where the zip ties bit into the skin, rubbing raw every time you shifted on the scratchy polyester bedspread. He'd left you there propped against the headboard like a doll discarded after playtime, your own pjs torn open and hanging loose around your shoulders.
the bathroom door creaked open and ben stepped out, steam curling around his broad shoulders. A towel hung low on his hips, water still beading on the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of old scars and fresh muscle.
"Still awake, huh?" His voice a low rumble, casual and almost amused. He ran a hand through his wet hair shaking droplets onto the carpet. "Good. I was hopin’ you'd be."
You pressed yourself back against the headboard, the wood groaning under your weight. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to fight but the zip ties bit deeper when you tried to move your hands and your vision was still blurry from whatever he did to you.
“Please.. you whispered, voice cracked from whimpering. "Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I swear—"
"shutup. i dont wanna’ hear that shit.” He crossed the room in three strides, his weight dipping the mattress as he sat on the edge of the bed. The towel gaped revealing the thick line of his thigh, the dark hair at his groin. your stomach churning at the sick ache in your core.
“yknow who i am?” ben asked.
You nodded, a tiny jerky motion. Everyone knew who he was. Soldier Boy. Vought's original hero. The man who'd been frozen for decades somehow alive and sitting in front of you.
He grinned slow and satisfied. "Then you know there's no use’ begging.” His hand came up fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a gentleness that made you flinch away.
His hand dropped to your chin, tilting your face up, thumb tracing your lower lip before pressing just enough to part them.
“You got a pretty mouth, doll.” he mumbled. "I been thinking about what it'd look like wrapped around my cock. y’gonna show me?”
You shook your head a sob catching in your throat and tears beading under your eyes at his fake ask of consent. “n-no! please don't—"
His grip tightened, fingers digging into your jaw until your teeth ached and you shutup. With his other hand he untied the knot on his towel, letting it fall. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy against his thigh, the head flushed dark pink with a dark full bush. He took his time stroking himself lazily watching the terror and something else flick across your soft features.
“Open up. Don't make me ask twice."
When you didn't, couldn't—he grabbed a fistful of your hair and stood, yanking your head forward forcing your mouth onto him. The taste hit your tongue before you could process: salt and skin and the faint musk of his body. He groaned low and satisfied as you gagged, your hands clawing uselessly at the zip ties.
"That's it honey..” he breathed while starting to move, fucking your throat with long deliberate strokes as spit covered his cock. “thats a good little girl. natural at sucking’ some dick, huh?”
Tears streamed down your cheek mixing with the spit that dripped from your chin but ben didn't seem to care. He held you there, his hips grinding against your face until your vision blurred and your lungs burned. only then did he pull back letting you gasp for air, tongue lolling out and pussy disgustingly aching.
Bens eyes flickered down to your panty covered pussy- clearly seeing the slick dribbling down your thighs. he barked a laugh, you gagging as he pushed back in deeper. the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.
“you like this, dont ya? mhf- like daddy fuckin’ your throat.” he groaned with his head lolling back in pleasure.
you whimpered around him again and using whatever movement you could get to bring your hands up onto bens thighs, digging in so hard you hope it hurt. your hair was messy from being tugged around so much, tears staining your cheeks.
you look perfect ben thought.
his hips came to a stop, using your hair to pull your mouth of his cock with a wet pop! you panted up at him, hands still on his thighs and dick still brushing against your cheek.
“want you to tell me how good it feels, okay doll?” ben commanded looking down at you.
you nodded with a horse voice. “o-okay ben.” and he slapped his tip against your cheek in warning. with a sob deep in your throat, you spat out the words he was dying to hear.
“okay! be-.. daddy… feels good.”
“good girl. now use your tongue and play with daddys balls so he can give ya’ a cumshot.” ben laughed, pulling your head lower to his balls as he groaned.
you watched as bens hand began to slowly jerk his cock, his bush tickling your nose as you began to kitten lick his drawn up balls, the skin warm and plush between your lips.
His thumb stroked your cheek almost tenderly. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Daddy's so proud of his little cock-sucker."
The praise sent a shiver through you, even as your jaw ached and your throat burned. He was close, you could feel it in the way his balls swelled, in the way his breathing turned ragged.
he pulled you off his balls suddenly, shoving his cock against your parted lips.
“swallow daddy’s nut, okay?” he growled.
He held you still as he came hot and thick, some shooting down your throat- some landing on your jaw and cheeks. His grip gentled only when he was spent, pulling away slowly leaving you gasping and empty. your chin slick with spit and the remnants of his release.
He crouched down, grabbing your chin and forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark and satisfied, burning with a possessive fire.
“knew it was a good idea to take you.”
He stood adjusting his towel leaving you crumpled on the bed covered in him. The neon light still bled through the curtains. The world outside the motel room might as well have ceased to exist. There was only him and this room now.
TAGLIST: @sb-bitch @mornixgstar18
