#im honry

Adrenaline. Screaming. Bruises. The two of you alone in some ratty motel bathroom while water from the shower collected on the tile floor to drown out the noise.

One minute, you were yelling at him for nearly getting MM killed, the next he had your wrists pinned against cracked tile and you were kissing him hard enough to make his lips hurt. Not that he'd care. After that, it became a pattern. Quick, secretive, never discussed. Quick fucks against walls, in abandoned motels, even in the safehouse late at night when everyone was asleep, a hand slapped over your mouth to muffle any noise from your mouth while he rammed his cock into you.

And soldier boy- who had spent decades fucking his way across America without a second thought, realized one evening in a bar that he hadn't touched another woman in months.

Not because he couldnt.

No- because he didnt want to. Which was fucking ridiculous. He told himself it didnt mean anything when you rested your head on his chest after sex. Didnt mean anything when you absentmindedly played with the chain around his neck while half asleep.

Or on that quiet afternoon. You angered him on a mission, and fuck if he could wait until you're back at the safehouse. He cant. Thats why he has you on some scrappy, dirty floor, fucking you hard in prone-bone. The tip of his thick cock slams into that perfect, spongy spot inside your warm cunt, and you feel like you might cry. With your cheek smushed against the floor, and feet dangling weakly behind you, your hand reaches out, searching for something to hold onto while every harsh thrust inches you a little forward, and your hand finds his. Your eyebrows knit together while his scruff tickles the sensitive skin of your throat, and he quickly pulls out, still holding onto your hand while his warm cum shoots all over your back.

Not even that meant anything-....right?

That afternoon had stayed with Him. Your palm against his, breathing uneven and eyes squeezed shut while he held on so tight he thought me might break your fingers. People who were just fuck-buddies didnt do that. Right? But then the next day you'd barely look at him infront of the others. Like he embarassed you.

The bar is crowded and loud, neon signs reflecting blue and pink against sticky and nasty floors. Ben sits alone in some dusty corner, nursing whiskey while Butcher hustles some idiot at pool. You're sat at the bar waiting for drinks when some guy slides up beside you. Young. Pretty. Smug. Ben watches your face carefully over the rim of his glass, a perfect eyebrow slightly raised. The guy says something that makes you laugh politely, and then- he touches your arm. Soldier boys jaw tightens.

What. The fuck?

...why is he even mad- you're just fuck buddies, but hes still halfway to standing when you shake your head and say something short. Final. He cant hear it but the guy looks annoyed. You glance across the room one time- directly at Ben. Automatically, the guy hitting on you looks over too- but once he catches sight of the massive supe glaring holes through him, he basically evaporates. Right after, you grab your drinks and walk straight back to ben's booth.

"You looked homicidal,"

you smile a little, sliding him a Beer.

"I am homicidal."

At his words you snort softly and scooch into the booth next to him, slightly close like its instinct. Warm. Easy. His arm settled along the back of the booth behind you.

"You could've gone with him,"

he says casually, making your brows furrow. "Why would i do that?" He shrugs, pretending not to care. You stare at him for a second too long before looking away.

And only two nights later, you're back at it. Stubble scratching along your thighs, you moan quietly. He eats you out like a man starving, ridiculously- plump lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it with a loud slurp.

Jesus Christ, hes a real womanizer. His beefy arms wrap around your thighs, stopping you from squirming with ease- one of your hands tangled in his hair while the other one braces against the sheets.

"....mm-, fuck-"

you whisper breathlessly. He only hums in response. "....mhmm?.."

A floorboard creaks outside.

Both of you freeze.

Then comes footsteps.

Your eyes widen in Panic. "Fuck-" and the doorknob rattles. In one panicked- intrusive reaction, you shove at ben's face with your foot.

Hard.

He stumbles backward with a loud thud into the nightstand. "OW-- Jesus fucking--"

"Shhh!" The door cracked open and inch. "Everything okay?" Hughie asks sleepily. He heard whining. You sit upright instantly, clutching your blanket to your chest while ben crouched besides the bed, rubbing his jaw with murder in his eyes. "Fine!-" you squeak. "I--uh--nightmare,."

Hughie blinks. "....Right. okay." The door shut.

Silence.

Ben slowly looked up at you.

"You kicked me in the fuckin' face." You'd almost be scared of him right now if you werent so caught off guard.

"I panicked-!"

"You panic like a goddamn mule."

You bury your face in your hands. "I'm-...sorry-."

But he barely hears you. Not because of the kick to his face- because all he could think of was how terrified you'd looked at the idea of someone finding out.

Not embarassed.

Terrified. Of him.

Something cold settles in his chest. Colder than it always does.

So he pulls away after that. Subtle at first.

He stops touching you casually. Stops sitting beside you. Stops lingering after missions to trade sarcastic comments while everyone else cleans up.

And you notice.

Of course you notice.

He can tell by the way your eyes track him across rooms now. By the little crease between your brows whenever he brushes past you without stopping.

Still, neither of you say anything.

Until one night, you finally corner him in the kitchen after everyone else went to sleep.

"You're avoiding me."

Ben scoffs, swallowing. Not nervous. Not really. Just....tense. "You're paranoid."

"Bullshit." You hiss.

Making you flinch, he slams the fridge shut harder than necessary. "Maybe i got tired of sneakin' around like your dirty little secret."

Your face falls.

The instant regret hits him like a truck, but he keeps going because hes soldier boy.

"You act like people finding out about us would be the end of the fuckin' world."

"Thats not---"

"You kicked me in the face because hughie touched a doorknob."

"I panicked!"

"Why?" His voice cracks through the Kitchen sharper than intended.

"Why are you so scared of people knowing, huh? Are you so ashamed of me?"

You stare at him like he'd slapped you. Then you laugh once- small and disbelieving.

"Ashamed of you?-"

"Sure looks like it."

"Oh my god." You drag both hands down your face before stepping closer.

"Ben, i'm- scared because this team is already hanging together by threads and if Butcher realizes we're involved he wil absolutely use it against us-"

He says nothing.

You swallow the lump in your throat, shaking your head. "You really thought i was embarassed of you?"

"When people get close to me," he says quietly, "it usually ends badly."

The honesty in that nearly breaks your heart. His expression had gone guarded in a way you rarely saw-- less arrogant, less untouchable. Just...tired.

You step closer slowly, fingers curling in the front of his shirt.

"I turn other men down because i want you," you mumble softly. "I sleep in your bed whenever i can, because i want to. There's no other guy who's hand i hold during sex-..."

His eyes search yours carefully, like he doesent trust what hes hearing.

"And for the record," you add, voice trembling slightly, "if someone had opened that bedroom door while you were eating me out? I would've died of humiliation because they caught me completely in love with you."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then ben kissed you.

Not rough this time,- not hungry. Just deep- and wrecked and relieved.

His hands cradle your face like something precious while your arms wrap around his neck.

"You love me..?" He mutters against your mouth like the words still confused him. His rough hands trail up your waist under your shirt.

You laugh shakily. "Unfortunately."

A huff escapes him- almost a laugh.

Then he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, eyes closed.

"Mh,"

A few soft kisses get pressed against the smooth line of your throat, making you exhale shakily while one of your hands braces on his chest.

Your and ben's heavy breathing fills the room. His hands tug your pants off, and your hands fumble with his sweatpants too. Of course hes not wearing any underwear. Pig. Biting down on your lower lip, you spit into your palm and stroke up and down his length a few times, before he pushes your panties aside and lines up with your pretty cunt.

God, hes missed it.

Once he bottoms out in you, a grunt leaves him and a quiet moan leaves you. Every thrust feels different from the other times- Like you both finally admitted something thats been killing you. Your hands scramble for leverage on the counter and the back of your head hits the cupboard with a deep thrust. If only you could bring yourself to care. Your arms wrap around his neck.

"Nnh- mh-mh-mh-...shit..."

You pant. His hips move faster and faster until he finally throws both of you over the edge, bodys locking up and limbs tangled with eachother. He pulls out of you, his cum leaking out of you with ease.

"....thank you," He mumbles. You smile tiredly.

"...for what?".

".......-fuck, i dont know. Just thank you."

Who knew the soldier boy could get so soft.

I actually kinda like this?? I think 🫣