Your POV

Your throat still hurts as Ben –Soldier Boy– lets you into his apartment. It’s fairly modest for America’s First Superhero, but you figure that he’s not been back for long. It’s still far nicer than anything you could’ve ever afforded, and you smile politely at him as he surveys you looking around. You don’t want to upset him again. You love him, and it scared you to see him so upset and hurt in that alleyway. You can’t believe you even drove him to that. You should’ve known that going against him would upset him, and that’s the last thing you wanted. Of course, you’re scared of him, he’s one of the most powerful beings on the planet, of course you’re scared. But that’s not the main reason you don’t want to upset him. You love him, he’s your person – at least, that’s what he keeps implying – so you don’t want to hurt him in that way. 

You were just so worried that your parents wouldn’t let you go under the Vought job ruse, and you were desperate to leave with him and start your life together. You thought telling them the truth, making them realise that the two of you are in love, would help them come to terms with you leaving. Though now you’ve had time to think it through during the stony silence as you walked to his place, you realise that was stupid and Soldier Boy had every right to be so pissed off with you over it. Though, a part of you can’t help but feel honored that he was so scared of losing you that he reacted that severely. 

“Your place is great,” you compliment, smiling softly at him. 

“Thanks, doll,” he replies, heading over to the kitchen area. He grabs two glasses and starts working on what looks like making drinks, so you cast your eyes over the open plan living space. You knew from how high the elevator took you that you were on a higher floor, but the view from his window is incredible. “Make yourself at home, baby girl, this is yours now too,” he reminds you, calling over from the kitchen. You don’t sit down, instead you approach the window to admire the view properly, and you notice through the window reflection as Soldier Boy approaches you with two drinks in hand. You turn around once he’s close enough, and bite your bottom lip nervously. 

“I turned eighteen, not twenty one,” you remind him. 

“So?” he presses. “You live with me now, under my roof, under my rules. You’re an adult, and I intend to treat you like one baby girl. So drink.” 

He holds the glass up and you take it, smiling softly at him, secretly pleased he’s treating you like an adult and not a baby like your parents always had. You take a slow sip of what you think is whiskey given the colour and smell, and from what you’ve seen your father drinking. It’s strong and burns the back of your throat, that’s still sore from the alleyway, but you welcome the burn, because it surprisingly seems to help it ease too. 

“Let me show you around,” the supe offers, starting to lead the way. 

You follow, taking another small sip of your drink, wondering how anyone can drink a whole glass. Soldier Boy leads you down a hallway, and shows you the bathroom, a modest size with a walk in shower and separate tub, and then he shows you the room at the far end; his bedroom. His bed is fairly large for one man, and curtains drape from the ceiling, covering full length windows. There’s a large TV hanging on the wall in front of his bed, and from what you can tell, there’s a closet through a door on the right. 

“I didn’t bring any clothes,” you realise out loud, seeing the glimpse of clothing through the door. 

“Who says you’ll need any?” he winks at you, disappearing into the closet himself. 

You laugh slightly at his joke, hoping it’s a joke. While recently you’ve wanted nothing more than for him to make love to you, tonight has been overwhelming. Even without the fight with your family, or the fight with your new boyfriend in the alleyway, you’d already felt overwhelmed. The time you’d spent alone with Soldier Boy in your bedroom had been a lot to mentally process. You’d never been with another person sexually before. You’d only ever made out with some boys from your school, but none of them had ever had their hands between your legs, and you’d certainly never gotten off in front of anyone else. Especially not three times. It had been so thrilling and sexy in the moment, but it has left you feeling conflicted and a little anxious. You want to trust the supe that he’s the one for you, but what if you’re both wrong. Are you really ready to give him something you can’t take back? Something you’ve been saving? 

You hear him humming under his breath, his voice a deep baritone that rumbles through his chest and slips off his lips like smooth honey, and you look towards the closet to see he’s left the door open and he’s completely naked, his back facing you so all you can see is his bare ass. You instinctively take another drink, the mixture of nerves and arousal back and swimming around in your stomach, and so you take yet another sip, and notice the drink is already half gone. 

When the supe reemerges from the closet, he’s only wearing low hanging sweatpants, and it’s hard not to notice the bulge that moves around as he walks. It’s also hard not to notice his broad, muscular shoulders, and his toned chest and six pack. You’ve never seen him without his costume on, but you only find yourself more attracted to him. 

“Everything okay, angel face?” he asks, retrieving his own drink from his night stand and taking a long, slow sip. You decide to do the same, needing some liquid courage for all the thoughts and feelings starting to force their way through your body. 

Your vision begins to blur, and you wonder if it’s just because you’re not used to the alcohol. Your mother would let you have a small wine with dinner at Christmas, but never anything like this. You look down at your glass to see it’s almost empty, and watch the supe approach you, his body heat radiating off of him and onto you, making you even more flustered.

“Here’s to us finally being together,” he toasts, raising his glass. You do the same, clinking them together, and then swallow the final dregs of your drink that have a little more texture than the rest of the drink did. You think nothing of it, forcing a small smile as he takes your now empty glass from you and places it on the nightstand, before turning back to face you fully. 

“You look lost, doll, need me to take care of you?” he asks, holding your face in his hands. 

“I think that drink has gone to my head,” you confess, hearing that your speech is just slightly slurred. 

Soldier Boy chuckles softly, rolling your head on your shoulders in his hands, his eyes squinted slightly as he observes your face slowly. 

“You look okay to me,” he counters, “in fact, you look better than okay. I’ve been thinking about that little red thong all night, y’know?” he prompts, a smirk curling over his lips. 

You force a laugh and swallow, “I think I should get some sleep,” you tell him, hoping to let him down gently. But Soldier Boy frowns, and you’re worried you’ve once again upset him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He drops his hands from your face and turns his back on you. “Fuck, this is because of me, isn’t it?” he asks. “This is because of what I did in the alley? You don’t want me anymore, do you?” 

The sadness in his eyes instantly makes your heart ache and you shake your head, rushing to correct him. “No, no I do want you, I do. I’m just so tired,” you excuse. 

“It’s okay, baby, I know I fucked this up,” he sighs, slumping down on the edge of his bed. “Fuck! I just… ever since I’ve got back I just have these… moments, where it’s like the supe in me takes over and… you know what? You should go home, this was a bad idea, I’m not good enough for you.” 

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. He can’t break up with you already, you need to prove to him that you do love him, that he does deserve you. You bravely stand in front of him, not afraid of him hurting you in this state. You’re quickly learning the different sides to your new boyfriend, and this isn’t the side of him that pinned you to the wall by your throat. This seems like the lost, scared little boy side, that just needs someone to tell him that they love him. 

You reach down and grab his wrists, encouraging them away from his head, and then you move to stand between his legs. 

“I want to stay with you, Soldier Boy,” you tell him sincerely, holding his face in your hands. 

He laughs softly, tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s Ben, baby,” he reminds you. You nod, glad he’s changed his mind about letting you use his real name, and then he turns his head and kisses your palm. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I love you. We’ve waited a long time for this, let’s not ruin it already.” 

“We can wait longer,” he insists, but you shake your head, adamant about your decision. You want to prove to him how much you love him, and you can’t think of a better way than giving him your virginity. Even if your head is feeling fuzzy, and you are nervous as hell. 

You take a deep breath and step back, reaching behind you to pull down the zipper of your dress, letting it grow loose around your fame. The dress slips down your shoulders and lands in the creases of your elbows, and you hold it there for a moment or two, before starting to slowly drop it lower and lower, until it’s falling into a pool at your feet. You watch his green eyes darken, his teeth trapping his bottom lip between them, and you feel a surge of confidence as you suddenly stand before him in only your underwear. He seems to take in every inch of you, reaching mindlessly into his sweatpants, the bulge you’d noticed earlier only getting bigger. 

You take a deep breath and reach behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing it down to the floor, and the supe hums softly under his breath. 

“Give me a twirl, doll,” he commands. You can’t decide if the way his eyes rake over your body is turning you on more or making you feel like an object he gets to marvel at before putting back on a shelf,  but you try to take the compliment, and spin for him, stopping when you’re facing front once more. “Fuck. C’mere, on your knees at my feet, let me try that mouth.” 

You’re thrown off by his demanding tone, but you do as he says, stepping closer and then slowly dropping to your knees. You tell yourself that this man is American’s first hero, he’s probably so used to barking orders at people, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it most of the time. He doesn’t mean it in a bad way. Besides, he’s probably not used to being with girls with as little experience as you have. 

“You’ve never sucked cock before, have you?” he asks with a smirk, his hand reaching out to manipulate your lips with his thumb. You shake your head and hear him chuckle, noticing that your vision is doubling now and then and there are bright lines around his head like he’s been outlined by a highlighter. You try to blink it all away as he speaks up again. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll teach you.” 

He reaches inside his sweats and pulls his cock free, and your eyes can’t help but widen when you see it. It’s thicker than you thought it would be, longer too. You didn’t think they were naturally ever that big, but you suppose there’s not much natural about the man you’re now on your knees for. You swallow hard wondering how you’re ever going to fit something like that inside you, when you’ve barely managed two fingers before, but Soldier Boy seems to notice your unease and just laughs softly. 

“Relax baby, we’ll make it work,” he promises, stroking himself slowly. “If you get it wet enough with your mouth, I’ll slide right in, anyway.” 

You want to believe him, so you nod your head and start to open your mouth wide, but he stops you, and you pull back, wondering how you’ve fucked up already. 

“Let’s start easy, shall we?” he asks, reaching for your hand. “Why don’t you just touch it?” 

You let him guide you, curling your fingers around his shaft. They don’t meet, which only makes you more nervous, and you try to keep all your anxiety at bay as you follow his lead when he begins to move your wrist up and down his length. Your eyes fall on his face, making sure you’re doing it right, and given the way his brow is furrowed and he’s biting his bottom lip, you can only assume you’re not getting it wrong at least. 

After a few moments of jerking him off, you’re anxious to move on, hoping you can almost get the scary part over with. You’re sure once he’s inside it’ll be easier and it won’t hurt anymore and then you’ll be able to start enjoying it. 

“Should I put it in my mouth now?” you wonder, which makes him laugh. You’re not sure why, maybe you’ve fucked up again. 

“You don’t just put it in your mouth, baby,” he chortles, amused. “Here,” he sighs, beckoning you closer with a flick of his fingers. “Lick it first,” he commands. “Root to tip, long licks, then when you get to the top, you can start sucking.” 

“Okay,” you nod in agreement, taking another deep breath to calm your nerves. 

You slowly lean forward, and then stick out your tongue, starting to lick from root to tip like he’d told you to do, and your eyes flicker up to his face to once more make sure he’s enjoying it. When you get to the tip you open your mouth wide, the stretch burns the corner of your lips, but you just about fit him between them, and so you start to suck softly like he’d commanded. 

“There we go,” he hums approvingly, which you’re grateful for, because you can no longer see his face. You try to take him a little deeper, but you gag, and spit starts to drool down his shaft. You pull back, reaching up to wipe your lips dry, a little embarrassed you’ve made a mess. “Don’t worry about that, sugar, we want it nice and wet for that tight little cunt.” He smirks down at you. “In fact, why don’t you spit on it?” 

You hesitate to do as you’re told, but he just blinks at you expectantly, clearly waiting for you to obey him, so you lean forward, careful to aim in the right place, and spit onto his cock, relieved to see you hadn’t missed. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, spreading it along his shaft with his palm. “Get up on the bed, baby, it’s time you gave me a little something, hm?” 

You nod and shakily start to climb onto the bed, now more nervous than ever. Your throat still hurts from the alley, your lips now burn from his cock, and you’re sure between your legs is going to hurt for the next few days at least once he’s done with you. But you want to make him proud, you want to do this to prove that you love him. Because you do love him, more than anything else. 

You lay back on the bed, your heart now racing in your chest as you wait for him to lean over you, but before he does, you feel his hands pulling on your thong, tugging it down your legs. No guy has ever seen you naked before, and that scares you almost as much as the thought of him going inside you does. But the supe leaves you no time to protest, as soon as your panties are off of your ankles he spreads your legs wider and then kneels between them. You worry your bottom lip as his hand travels up your thigh, and then his fingers find your core. But unlike earlier on this evening, the lace isn’t between the two of you, and his skin is on yours, and now he can feel your pussy for himself. He brings his fingers to his mouth and spits on them, before rubbing the saliva around your opening, making you whimper. 

“You were so fuckin’ wet for me earlier, baby girl, what happened?” he asks, frowning slightly. You’re nervous that upsets him so you try to search for a reason why.

“I think I’m just nervous,” you explain weakly. 

“Nervous? Why? You love me don’t you? You want me to be your first? You do want to fuck me, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” you tell him, nodding. “Just be gentle, please,” you add. 

Soldier Boy laughs slightly, which you tell yourself is an acknowledgement of your request, and then pushes two fingers inside you, making you cry out. It smarts just a little, but thankfully you adjust fairly quickly. 

“Fuck, you really are tight, huh?” he muses. With his fingers still inside you, he reaches across for the nightstand and produces a bottle of lube, which you’re grateful to see. “Don’t worry baby girl, I know I’m a lot to handle, but I promise I’m worth it.” 

When he pulls his fingers free, he starts to coat his length in the lube, getting it slicked up and then rubs the excess around your opening. 

“Don’t want to break you on day one, do we?” he winks, leaning over you. 

You’re sure he’s just joking, so you force a laugh, even though you think you might be sick. You dread to think how nervous you would’ve been if you hadn’t had the drink first. You feel Soldier Boy press against your opening and instantly tense up, making him stop. 

“Hey, baby girl, relax. C’mon, let me in,” he encourages. You try to do as he says, taking some deep breaths and reminding yourself just how much you do love him and want this with him, and then you feel an inexplicable pressure between your legs that takes your breath away. “There we go, good girl,” he praises, and it’s just enough to see you through the initial pain barrier, until you feel like something inside you has broken, and he slides inside just a little further. 

You fist the bed sheets beneath you just for something to release some of the pain out on, and try your best to hold in the screams and shouts you want to let out, not wanting to annoy or upset him. 

“Not a virgin anymore, sweetheart,” he smirks, and as you look down at what he’s referencing, you see blood lacing his length. “Don’t worry, a bit of blood has never scared me.” 

He leans down and kisses you for the first time since you started this, and you try to relax into the kiss, opening your legs a little wider to figure out if tilting your hips a different way will help ease the discomfort. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore, there’s just a dull throb that is making you feel a little queasy. Soldier Boy barely gives you any time to enjoy it once you’ve adjusted, before he starts picking up the pace or fucking you a little harder, and you have to adjust to it all over again. And fairly soon, it’s like he’s forgotten all about taking it easy, because his hands are pinning your thighs to the bed and he fucking into you hard and fast, grunting with each thrust. You whimper and whine and try to retreat just a little, but his grip is so strong you can’t move, and you’re fairly sure you’ll be bruised by the morning. 

But you try not to show your pain or discomfort, because you can see that he’s truly enjoying himself, and each time he catches your eye he smirks at you, and you can swear there’s a hint of admiration on his features. So you grit your teeth and bear it, even faking the odd moan so he thinks you’re enjoying yourself and doesn’t question your loyalty or love for him. And just when you wonder how much more you can handle, you feel him still, spilling his seed deep inside you. You pant heavily, glad it’s over and eager to feel him slide out. He finally does, and you feel between your legs throb in pain as you struggle to close them, unable to hold back the wince. If the supe notices, he doesn’t say anything, he just climbs off of the bed and heads towards the bathroom in silence, and you watch him leave, wondering if he’ll finally believe that you love him.