#private soldier

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“General Ormond Is Asked To Apologize For Statements,” Kingston Whig-Standard. February 22, 1933. Page 3.  ---- Strong protest, in the form of a carefully prepared resolution against statements made by General D. M. Ormond, Superintendent of Penitentiaries, in his report of the recent riots at the Kingston Penitentiary, with particular reference to remarks in connection with the private soldier, was voiced at a general meeting of the Canadian Legion, Branch No. 9, on Tuesday night. The business of the meeting was confined to the resolution passed, which was enthusiastically endorsed by the membership of the Branch. 

The resolution copies of which have already been forwarded to the proper authorities is as follows: — 

"That the Kingston Branch No. 9, Canadian Legion, of the British Empire Service League, has read with regret the insulting and ill-founded remarks of Superintendent of Penitentiaries D. M. Ormond, as reported in The Kingston Whig-Standard on February 7th, on page 10, which reads as follows: ---

"Shortly after the end of the late war, a fair sprinkling of guards were brought into the service who had had military training of some type or other. These, however, were not closely scrutinized and the present time there are many guards who had little or no service that would recommend them to be penitentiary or prison guards, mostly having terminated from three to five years service with the rank of private, which would Indicate that they had reached their limit in military advancement and could not be expected to show a higher standard in civil life; but the fact that they had military training appears to have been accepted as a justification tor handing them a copy of the penitentiary regulation,s giving them a brief talking to, swearing them in, and assigning them to duty."

That the Kingston Branch of the Canadian Legion is able to give the names of doctors, lawyers, merchants, secretaries, bankers, members of Parliament, and men prominent In all walks of civil life today who served in the front line trenches of France and Flanders and other forward positions during the war, who had the honor and distinction of the rank of private, gunner, or sapper. 

That some of the highest awarded by the British Empire given to the private soldier who lived, ate, and slept in the mud, because he believed in his country and the best principles of freedom, and did not enter the war in comfort and high military rank. 

That the Kingston Branch of the Canadian Legion No. 9 feels that the slur on the private soldier whose names are carved in bronze and marble in our memorial hall and city monuments, who paid the supreme sacrifice in the Great War, should not be belittled or made cheap because some who failed to respect the law of the country and probably did not serve overseas find themselves in Kingston Penitentiary and got temporarily out of hand for a day or two. 

That the raids on the German trenches for prisoners and the patrolling of No Man's Land at night was done by what rank of soldier? the private. 

That the Kingston Branch No. 9 Canadian Legion feel that Superintendent D. H. Ormond should make a public apology to relieve the feeling of the widows and mother who lost husbands and sons serving in the Great War with the rank of private. 

That a copy of this resolution be sent to Dr. A. E. Ross, the Rt. Hon. R. B. Bennett, the Hon. Hugh Guthrie, the Hon. R. J. Manion; the Hon. Hugh Stewart; the Rt. Hon. W. L. Mackenzie King; the Hon. Ernest Lapointe, the Hon. Ian Mackenzie; John S. Roper; K. C. Dominion President of the Canadian Legion, and The Kingston Whig-Standard.”

There was a very large attendance at the meeting which was presided over by President Charles T. Simpson. Following the meeting the members attended the billiard tournament between the R. C. H. A. Sergeants and the Canadian Legion.

[gophergal]

Shout-out to women who don't shave. Y'all have the right idea cause that shit is annoying

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Break Me Down

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You��re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read:

BMD YouTube Playlist || BMD Spotify Playlist

Chapters:

Prologue

Part 1 - The Game Begins

Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby

Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below

Part 4 - On the Inside Out

Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day

Part 6 - A Hot Meal

Part 7 - Until Midnight

Part 8 - Something in the Way

Part 9 - Breach

Part 10 - Caught in the Balance

Part 11 - The Lion's Den

Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways

Part 13 - A Generous Deal

Part 14 - Safe House

Part 15 - The Tower

Part 16 - Soldier Boy

Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say

Epilogue - All My Living Time

Series Complete!

Did you like this series? If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue the BMD-verse, you can:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Become a Patreon Member 🌟

Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

One-Shots:

In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Wanderlust** Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete

Wake Me Up** [MINI SERIES] A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, he is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

Series Complete!

Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out? 

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

This One's For You Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

Lesson Learned** There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you. (Sequel to This One's For You)

Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

Calculated Risks You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

Imagines:

Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game.

Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you.

Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a “twist” ending…

Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to “Ben loses you.”]

Headcanons

Inspiration behind the Part 17 plot twist. It has to do with my love of Smallville. (Spoilers for BMD Part 17.)

How many kids would you and Ben have? The answer is...

Ben's reaction to his daughter Lila's first crush (vs. his son's). The double standard here is ridiculous!

How Ben would react when Lila gets a boyfriend (or girlfriend). Dad!Ben is pretty much what you'd expect...

How Ben reacts when his daughter (Lila) is dating an asshole. He sees an unfortunately "kindred" spirit.

What if Lila caught Ben on a bad day? Featuring reactions from young!Lila and teen!Lila.

Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:

BMD Playlist Posters:

"But you move me, baby. All my livin time..."

And Side B:

"A fight for love and glory, a case of do or die..."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[7pleiades7]

Lamia and the Soldier (1905) by John William Waterhouse RA (English, 1849-1917), oil on canvas, Private Collection, Kharkiv

[hooked-on-elvis]

[andradrawsstuff]

Ok, hear me out-

The penguins are DnD nerds.

But so are the chimps, so they’d have like a whole little party and play their campaign every Thursday or something

Some headcannons:

Mason is their dungeon master

Phil is the ranger

Kowalski is a wizard

Private is their cleric

Rico is obviously the barbarian

Skipper usually goes fighter or rogue

Marlene and Julien would join later since they are newer to the zoo and they’d start a new campaign with them

Marlene is a sorcerer and is chaotic good

The penguins would make Julien be the bard lmao

The whole party is chaotic neutral apart from Marlene and Private who are chaotic good and lawful good 💀

Some other headcannons:

Kowalski and Marlene will constantly rival about who is the better magician and fight about it like siblings, but Kowalski is very arrogant about it

Skipper tries paladin once even though everyone tells him it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t listen - he accidentally oathbreaks within the first 5 minutes and makes them restart the whole campaign

When they see Rico get randomly encumbered it’s immediately a cause for concern, because they instantly know he just yoinked some barrels of gunpowder and alcohol and is planning something really stupid

Marlene and Kowalski make up their own spells and constantly cast them on each other, much to Mason’s dismay - “I cast… MANUAL BREATHING!” “I cast… PARENTS FIND YOUR TEENAGE SKETCHBOOK!”

Skipper is an absolute menace as a rogue and always uses sleight of hand on his friends which he finds very funny

Marlene will do ANYTHING just to spite Kowalski

Private is the strongest and takes it the most seriously, so he usually has to dig the others out of their own shenanigans

Julien is the first to die in every situation, usually because his use of vicious mockery comes to bite him back in the ass

Rico loves to use his friends as improvised weapons

Mason is a very good narrator, but usually goes on forever until someone has to tell him to get to the point

Private collects EVERYTHING he finds along the way and makes Rico carry it when he gets encumbered

Phil and Rico turn into partners in crime and cause chaos and destruction wherever they go - they love to use explosives in battle which ends up with half the party dead

They always make Alice the final boss of their campaign

Maurice loves his weekly break from Julien

That’s it for now :)

[lokisasylum]

Always proud of Private Park!

"During the KCTC training, the 5th Division had six self-propelled howitzers in training. Jimin was in charge of the 4th howitzer. The term "넷포" (netpo) was used to refer to his position in the artillery."

[mxboxlocks]

PRIVATE DOMINATION/DOMINATED LINES!

i think i've posted them before, but this is my tf2 self-insert, the Private! they work under Soldier as an apprentice and mostly sticks by him through a lot of missions. i took a bit of time brainstorming their dom lines to get a feel for their personality and i think i did a pretty good job! so here you are!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dominating scout "You run circles, I run miles, twerp!" "St-eee-rike! You're out!" "And that's what we do to spineless boys around my turf, slick. This is MEN'S territory!" "You're gonna need bandages for a lot more than your hands after that one." "DOMINATED, ya whiney little brat!" "I just knocked your ass out the ballpark!"

dominated by scout "Are you- Are you always this stupid? Cuz that was embarrassin'." "Dominated, bootlicker!" "You oughta get discharged, cuz there's no comin' back from that." "Y'know you take after your boss a lot; you're both easy to shoot, and you're both dumb as dirt!" "(laughter) Oh man! Wait'll I tell Soldier he's raisin' a HIPPIE!"

dominating soldier "Looks like THIS Private just moved up in rank!" "I'm taking your title, old man! Trial by combat!" "Land of the free, home of this boot I just shoved up your ass, Sarge!" "They should give me a medal for how hard I'm kicking your ass." "Saludos desde México, GRINGO! (Greetings from Mexico, FOREIGNER!)"

dominated by soldier "I don't wanna see your nose out of that dirt until your arms are about to fall off! IS! THAT! CLEAR?!" "Have you learned NOTHING, son?!" "DOMINATED! You are a disappointment! You are a coward!" "DOMINATED, you spineless hippie!" "Ohh, get up, it's only a scratch. UP, I SAID!" "DOMINATED! DISCHARGED! DEEEECEASED!"

dominating pyro "I got a waterhose back home with your name on it, Gas." "You're in hot water, ain'tchu?" "Holy mole, that's gotta burn!" (mole is a kind of Mexican spicy sauce) "Flail that 'thrower all you want, you can't burn a phoenix! CAWWW!" "DOMINATED, Pinkie Pie!" "You just got SMOKED!"

dominating heavy "Need an ice pack for that? Don't worry, we can bury you in the snow." "Your big gun doesn't scare me, Stallingrad!" "I never quit, I wanted your head! And so I shotcha til you were dead!" (reference to the song Rasputin by Boney M.) "Take that domination where the sun don't shine, lover-of-the-Russian-queen!" (another Rasputin reference) "Tell Dr. Boytoy he's gonna need to do a lot of work to get those bullets out of ya!"

dominated by heavy "DOMINATED. Now be quiet." "Dominated! You do not live up to your title." "Mm. You need more training." "Private is not disciplined! (singsong) Oh, Soldier!" "Stay down, little man. I do not enjoy killing babies."

dominating demo "Gotcha that time, Cap'n Loch Ness!" "Those bombs of yours ain't really all that useful when you can't keep your eye on 'em, are they?" "Didn't see me comin' did ya?" "Oof, you're gonna need more than a drink for that." "You just LOVE my bullets, don'tcha Cyclops? CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"

dominated by demo "TELL YOUR SORRY EXCUSE FOR A LEADER THAT I'M COMIN' FOR HIM NEXT!" "A fine sendoff for a boot-lickin' bib-wearin' git!" "For your sake, laddie, I'll tell your ma you died doin' what you loved; gettin' your BLOODY ARSE handed to you!"

dominating engineer "You ever thought about buildin' a bulletproof vest?" "Not very intuitive design when your own sentry can shoot at you too, y'know." (rare) "Dominated! Tell Beecave I said best wishes!" "Twelve pHDs and for what?! Try a tour in the army, Quickdraw!" "They don't teach fightin' like that in IT, do they?" "Tend to your farm and mind your own damn business!" "DOMINATED, Marty Robins!"

dominated by engineer "You're not much smarter than yer mentor, are ya? Hell, y'all might be related." "Dominated. Tell Houston I said they can go to hell!" "Take your humid ass air back down to the coast, damn it!" "Not in my damn base, ya don't."

dominating sniper "You piss in jars and you keep 'em. I don't need to embarrass you any more." "Dominated, Heeler!" (vague reference to Bluey) "Aren't Australians supposed to be the best fighters in the world?! C'MON!" "I got you in my sights. Wanker."

dominated by sniper "(sotto voice) Gotcha, trench rat." "Gotcha, trench rat!" "(sotto voice) Another bloody moron crossed off my list." "Another bloody moron crossed off my list!" "You think wearin' a uniform makes you special, punk?!" "(sotto voice) They got cages in hell for people like you, grunt." "They got cages in hell for people like you, grunt!"

dominating medic "Someone call the waah-mbulence!" "And for your death certificate, that'll be 200,000 dollars! Name of insurance?" "What's this? A DNR? Baaad news, other team, the doctor is OUT!" "Dominated, pillskirt!" "Dominated, psych ward!" "DOMINATED, Frankenstein!"

dominated by medic "I would use your body for science, but it's so full of sugar and plastic I think I'd be better off robbing a grave!" "Ooh! That limb looks infected. I'll have to take it off." "You never SAW me coming, did you, fraulien?!" "Ha-ha-hah! Your blood, it gives me youth!" "Shut up and let me do my job!"

dominating spy "You sorry sacks of scum are USELESS to your teammates!" "Ooo, a ghost?! So spooooky!" "Need a cig, baguette?" "That's what you get you little weasel!" "Buy me a drink later and we'll call it even." "Eat that, white flag!"

dominated by spy "If your spatial awareness were as large as your ego, you'd have caught that!" "Now to torture the information out of you - or is that too much to handle?" "A knife in the back, like a kiss, au revoir." "I've met politicians with more conviction than you!" "Dominated! Now go back to your play-pen!" "Dominated, you scraggly ill-kempt mutt!"

[holyguardian]

@soldier-lodbrok | convoluted raise my dottir AU

Their escape had been miraculous in more ways than one. The fact Professor Hojo's swarm of workers hadn't sniffed out Faz's escape plan, the fact Faz himself hadn't intercepted them in their desperate run from the Sector 4 container yard, the fact they skirted detection long enough to be welcomed into the home of Elmyra Gainsborough for a short respite.

Truthfully, much of that evening had been spent confiding her sorry tale to Elmyra. Without her painkillers there would have been little sleep regardless.

The following morning, Elmyra disappeared for a time. Nervous that she had decided to approach Shinra with information about the escapees in her home, Ifalna prepared for a discreet departure... only to meet Elmyra herself at the doorstep. She gifted them an adventure fund, she called it, when the reality was she had gifted them a future.

Elmyra went on to help them through to Sector 6, where a discreet crack in the wall acted as a funnel for thugs and other such ruffians to transport illicit goods into Midgar's metal dome. She asked if they were going to be alright on their own. Ifalna replied they had to be. Aerith promised to write to her every single day.

Part of their good luck stemmed from Shinra's own war. The ongoing conflict in Wutai meant most resources had been pulled from the undercity. What was once a densely guarded, or monitored population had been all but left to their own devices.

As with all good luck though, it was bound to run out. That was what Ifalna believed when she and her daughter came face to face with someone in Shinra attire on the other side of the wall. She froze upon seeing him — her fear plain to see as she gripped onto Aerith's shoulders and pulled her in close. This was tragically unfair.

"My darling..." she spoke quietly to Aerith. Her fingers tightened a little more, though her grip was weak. She was a frail husk of what she had once been, so much life had been robbed of her. The command lingered on her tongue, to make her daughter run back to the kindly woman.

[siyelius]

ngl hot take but gepard’s model lowkey scares me bc how are you gonna be a military captain and swing a colossal shield like it’s a pencil and have your whole schtick being taking hits and refusing to fall in battle but you have anime pretty boy bod

[the-finest-clockwork-soldier]

How much honey is too much honey to put into a cup of tea

-someone who may have just put far too much sweetener in their tea

Any Amount Of Honey If You Know What's Good For You!

If You Absolutely Must Add To Your Tea (Even When There Is A Clear Solution Of Simply Getting A Different Tea), I Recommend Milk Or Straight Sugar Cubes. Honey Fusses Up The Flavor, As I Am Sure You Are Currently Very Familiar With.

Not Even To Mention How Sloppily Homey Must Be Added In The First Place!

[fidgetspringer-art]

The Shimmer Shields - Uniform design

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Read More in the BMD-verse:

There are several more sequel stories listed under the Break Me Down Series Masterlist. Next up is a one-shot taking place a shortly after Part 17, and before this Epilogue:

Summary: You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

▶️ Next Story: In the Dark

Before you keep reading, please let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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[josiadorstuff]

I had a dream the other night where I was a new hire in a massive corporation, and had to do a performance review for Gideon Nav. I have never read The Locked Tomb, and I don’t have a job.

[loonylupin2]

THE PRIVATE

AND HIS MAJOR

A Private Gripweed x Major McCartney Fic Now on Tumblr

Original A03 Link

(The last three chapters are being written

CHAPTER 1:

MARCH 9th DRILLS

Major McCartney stood in his polished brown boots in a grassy mud-covered field. Land was destroyed from the 100s of drills in the past months: another day and another training. The Major had gotten the schedule down meticulously, having done this for a long while. Meet a new regiment- get to know them a bit (preferably not), then they are shipped away, and he usually never sees them again- and if he did, by happenstance. He would no longer be their Major, and they would no longer like his trainee.

He stood there with his arms behind his back, holding his elbows, his back straight, and his chin raised in a show of superiority. Hazel eyes dim and the brim of his hat casting a shadow unto his nose hiding away the blush of his face from the scolding heat. His clothes were neat, clean, and laid out, like a mannequin in the store window—a perfect representation of grace, dominance, and beauty. You would feel ashamed to disappoint him even in the slightest. To get dust on his boot- and let alone his face clean and white as porcelain, the beautiful face of a Barbie yet a cold biting and commanding tone as a cobra though his bite was much worse than that of a snake.

The new regiment stepped in front of him clumsily, walking and chatting among themselves, boys as young as 18 and some as old as 37. It didn’t matter. To the Major, they were trainees. Soldiers are to be sent to the trenches and waters and will most likely never return. It was a cold job, so he tried to keep himself as distant as possible. Damn him if he were to get close and form a bond, only for the lad to get sent away to his demise. He had to be ready and fit for the most possible thing. A human craves connection after so long, but caving the wires bound will come back to choke you in some time.

The regiment saw the Major and stopped on the tracks- just from his cold look and the stiffness of his shoulders- utter perfection. They fixed themselves standing up straight with their chests puffed- except one. A lad stood hunched in the middle, a skinny build. His hair was curly like a vein and red as the dust. His face was pale yet had many sunburned freckles across his thin face and aquiline nose. He was the only one in the regiment to have glasses—round ones that hid his small, triangle-shaped eyes.

He looked like a cartoon character. Like a weed. Funnily enough, when the Major checked his list for roll call, his name was, in fact, Gripweed. He held back a chuckle and instead sneered, looking back up at the regiment, hoping they had straightened up. All except Gripweed again. He played with his calloused hands like a fly and looked up at the significant shyly, his eyes big and his lip bitten- hunched over like a faucet.

“ATTENTION!” He said for the sake of the drill. Gripweed hadn’t gone and stood like the rest of the soldiers. He seemed to make himself smaller, hugging his body as he stared at the Major. He rolled his eyes, pursed his mouth, and continued along with the drill

“PRESENT ARMS!” The trainees put their guns to the front of their bodies, swiftly as a sparrow- except Gripweed. The Major thought he must’ve been deaf- or mentally impaired. He blinked at him before looking around and realizing what his comrades were doing. He pulled his gun from its holster, and it fell to the ground. He blushed deeply and quickly retrieved it, grunting as he did so. He picked it up and held it in front of him, though it was pointed in the wrong direction- he panicked and refixed it.

Major McCartney glared at him. “Sorry!” Gripweed called out. The Major's stare hardened, and his eyebrows scrunched in disgusted pity. He turned on his foot and walked over to the solder hands still healed behind his back. Gripweed looked up at him, his face practically glowing from sweat and blush. He bit his lip nervously as the Major's eyes bore down into him, searching his face.

“Did I command you to talk? Private?” He said sternly, his voice smooth. Gripweed shook his head. “No,” he nodded as he spoke like a toy. He smiled despite himself. The Major bit his cheek. “I just thought it ought to say sorry for being an ass, sir.” Chuckles rose from the Regiment along with Gripweed's mouth.

“I see we have a clown in our midst…” Major McCartney said coldly and looked over Gripweed's head before looking down into his eyes again. “You address me as Major, not sir…I am not your mailman. Private. I am your Major, and you shall address me as such. You will do as I say and only as I say. If I don’t command you to breathe, you damn sure will not breathe,” his voice was cold, and he spoke through his teeth. Gripe's eyes widened, and his face blushed deeply. However, this confused the Major more, if anything.

He expected him to nod or hold his head in shame. Or another apology… not to stare at him with his mouth in a comical “o,” and the look on his face of admiration- his eyes sparkled though it could have just been his glasses. The Major sneered stepped back into position, and looked across the regiment.

“DETACHMENT! RIGHT TURN!”

The regiment turned on their heels at a 90-degree angle…except for Gripweed…he turned at a 90-degree angle to his left… he realized after a few seconds of unbroken silence that he had made an error and turned again clumsily like a spinning top. And still was out of the line Symmetry by an inch To the Major that was comparable to a mile

Major McCartney gripped his arms, which he held behind his back, and stepped over to Private Gripweed. His grace almost seemed to be falling to shambles; the first time, he had glided, but now he made a muddy footprint against the soil. “Private Gripweed,” he addressed through gritted teeth.

“Uhm uh,” Gripweed quickly looked the Major up and down as if searching for something. “Uh, yes, sir McCartney! I mean Private McCartney! I mean, uh-“

The Major's jaw tightened, and his voice deepened. “Major….McCartney…Private…Major.” He walked closer to him like a tall, intimidating vulture. “Must I spell it out for you… M…A…J…O….R” he settled in front of him, Gripweed having to lean back so their noses would be against each other… Gripweed could smell him, though- roses. He blushed even more profoundly, partly because of embarrassment and the butterflies jumping up and down in his gut.

“Major…” The Major said, his voice cold like ice and sharp like shards. Gripweeds Adam’s apple trembled, and he bit his lip as he watched him snarl. “Repeat it to me private…” Gripweed stared into his eyes before gulping his throat dry and his thoughts spinning. “M-Major”

“Correct.” He said quickly. His eyes didn’t blink. Gripweed wished for him to poke his chest in command, maybe. “When I tell you to turn right…private…you turn right!” He whispered this so no one else could hear…though he said “private” loudly. I want to show how low Gripweed was on the roster compared to him.

“I’m sorry s- I mean Major,” he chuckled shyly, averting his eyes. “I thought y-you meant-“ he played, fingers cracking the bones. The Majors stare was fleeting. “Y-your right!” He smiled, hoping that he had cleaned everything up… but the Major's gaze darkened, and his sneer began to twitch; he looked like he wanted to strangle the private- it seemed almost the private wanted this.

“Did everyone turn to ‘’my right’ private?” he said firmly. “W-well uh- I”

The Major continued and snatched Gripweed's glasses, holding them beside his cheek. “Maybe you need a new pair of glasses…private.” He dropped the glasses to the ground. They didn’t shatter. They landed as gracefully as a flower… Gripweed's heart fluttered. The Major stepped closer, their chests touching. Gripweeds heart hammering. The Majors still. “Or maybe you need to fix your ears.” He tapped Gripweed's red ear. “Or maybe you need a sanitorium-“ he said darkly. He leaned his head forward, whispering into Gripweed's ear as he trembled and closed his eyes, gulping.

“Whatever it is you need…Private Gripweed… I suggest you get it fixed…because if we continue like this, I might not be too kind…I’ve been too friendly already,” he chuckled as if on his last nerve. “And I don't have much else to give….” He leaned his mouth closer- his voice had gone quieter, his hot breath hitting Gripweed's cheek. He tried to hold back his pants

“I recommend you straighten up…private…or I might have to fix those things for you..and you don’t want me to fix you.” Gripweed opened his eyes large and bit his lip hard, his face boiling like a pot in the Sahara. The Major heard his grunt and laughed before stepping back to position, a satisfied grin on his perfect face. Gripweed stared at him…his mouth wet with saliva and his heart hammering, his head splashing like water. The Major snapped his fingers

“Let’s get back to it now, boys!”

Gripweed sighed.