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syrma-sensei · 5 months ago

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Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.4: Unmasked.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Warnings: Herogasm (need I elaborate more?), implied smut, angst, emotional rollercoaster...

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

Herogasm.

A place where supes exert their whims and desires without being pried on. The rumours you heard were rife with obscenity and outrageousness. However, what you're beholding now makes you think that whatever you heard about the affair was ten times more downwashed than the veritable things occuring before you right now.

Everything is raw, pure, and carnal.

They're just like humans. Like you.

“It’s my thing.” Soldier boasts in the middle of the display debauchery.

He's just like humans, of flesh and needs; like you.

You muster up a salacious grin, sliding the laces of your dress down in order to strip off. Soldier Boy rushes and holds your hands to your arms to stop you.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing, doll?” He snarls.

Your grin doesn't waver, your brow quirks up playfully, “Getting naked? I'm feeling overdressed here.”

He lets another guttural sound. “Not in here.” His voice is commanding and you shiver.

He pulls you through the scenes of sex and pleasure. You watch supes having their way with other supes and normal people. You wonder if the normal workers consented to be here. You see men with women, men with men, women with women. No facades, no masks. You feel the thrill roil your belly at the sounds of naked flesh slamming against naked flesh. You fathom a strange kind of sincerity in this place, where one can be and do whatever they want.

“See, I established this…” He waves a hand around, “Back in 52, with Liberty.”

You raise a brow at the new info.

“Why?” You ask.

His brows furrow, “Why I built this? Because we fucking deserve it. We're gods among men, and we have gods’ tendencies.”

“But I see normal people here,” You chuckle, “I thought we humans were way below you and your kind.”

Soldier Boy stops in his tracks. Turning on his heels, his hand grabs your jaws, making you moan at the force. He pulls you in to whisper in your ear, “We can do whatever we want, fuck whoever we want. In time, you'll understand how privileged you are to be mine.”

“Words, words…” You snatch your head out of his grasp in defiance, “I only hear words and see no actio—!”

He shuts you up with his crushing lips. You moan at the rapturous strength in his hands as he pulls into his hold. You can feel the warm and firm muscles underneath his gear. His lips are full and ravenous against yours, for a moment, you felt as if he's going to swallow you whole. The way his lips covet yours ripples through your body down to your core; you moan again.

He breaks the kiss for a second, gazing down at you with half-lidded eyes, purring, “Do you want to be truly mine?”

You tear up as emotions burn both in your heart and eyes. The world's strongest superhero is asking you to be his. You ogle him through your tears. No man ever required your permission before. The leash Jack has on you makes you an available mount for anyone who's ready to pay Jack enough to let them have you.

Soldier Boy — Ben, didn't do anything of the sort even though he made sure whatever the thing had been going between the two of you was worth it. Yes. You want to be his, even if only for the night. You want to be claimed by this man, you want to feel it for once, that you have control over your life and do something of your choice.

“Yes.” You utter, your lips are still close to his. “Make me yours, please.”

Soldier Boy grins. That giddy and boyish grin is growing on you. The way his eyes light up at your acceptance.

He takes you to private chambers, and makes you his.

Ben cards a hand through your hair as your head lays on his chest. His eyes are gazing up to the ceiling.

He's just had one of the best nights of his life. The satisfying sensation of mirth is piercing into his bone. He finally had you, and his mind is at peace, for now.

However, he can't say the same thing about his heart which is bumping with nourishment under your ear. He hasn't felt this in god knows for how long. He feels happy. Truly happy. And it's not just the sex.

Fuck. It casts upon him that he doesn't want this to end after tonight. He realises he wants more of you, more of this. Whatever this is… he craves for more, more of you. More of this non-ephemeral happiness. He knows it. He can feel it in his bones that the cat and mouse game between you played out into something more. He's feeling sweet tingles in his body like a fucking teen boy. Be that as it may, he's fond of it.

He sighs softly, hand still buried in your hair.

Could it be?

Could it be you? The one with whom he wants to make his childish dream come true?

The one he'd make a family with?

He doesn't know.

The only thing he's certain of at the moment is that he doesn't want what he has with you to end, contrary to what he initially believed.

He feels you shift under his arm. You crane your face up to meet his. God, you're fucking pretty. Pretty can't even describe the happy glow you're in now. Pride sprouts in his chest that he made you happy. His little ol’ heart beats fast at the fact. His fancy is so tickled.

“Are you compensated, doll face?” He asks playfully.

Your eyes furrow, confused for a moment, then a blush invades your cheeks.

The sound of his deep chuckle makes your heart swell, it's refreshing. “Oh, I am. Plenty.” You giggle.

“Good, because you're gonna have to get used to my generosity.”

You blink several times at the sudden revelation that you sit up.

He mimics you as he sits up, noticing the silent panic in your eyes, “What is it?”

“I can't be yours alone.” You whisper. “Jack won't let that happen…”

He frowns, the mere mention of his name grinds on his gears. He grumbles, “That fuckhead can suck on my dick for all I care.”

You sigh, “Ben… you don't understand, he owns me—”

His lips seal yours. “Shh, I'm a jealous man, I warn you. I won't have my girl talking about another man owning her.”

A strange yet delightful shiver courses through your body. Did he just call me his girl?

“Then do something.” You tear up, emotions burning your eyes. “I don't want him. I want you. Please.”

He flinches when you hug him, crying into his chest. Fuck, he isn't good with sentimental shit. Sentiments are a women's department, not a seasoned soldier's like himself. Fuck! He should do something, but his body is alerted to do anything and you crying into his chest isn't making it better.

“Shh…” His arms reluctantly hold you back, a hand patting your back softly.

“Ben…” His heartstrings tug painfully at the way you say his name, the way you implore him. “Please don't let him take me back.”

His chin rests on your head, his hand still patting your back. “I won't. You're mine now.”

“Don’t let me go, please.”

Fuck this, he isn't good at comforting anyone, because he never did it to anyone neither was it done to him. Somewhere weird burns his eyes as he remembers his loveless childhood. It's as if the sound of your sobbing triggers it.

“I won't let anyone take you from me. You have my word for that.”

Soldier Boy is many things, but a promise breaker isn't one of them.

You don't realise that you dozed off on Ben's chest until you wake up after hours. Ben's side is empty. You groan as you rub your eyes. You hear ecstatic moans woven into music, it's still permeating through the door; the party doesn't stop.

You shift in your spot. Your core aches from sweet soreness.

You can't believe you just slept with the hero of all heroes, in Herogasm no less. Weeks of tantalising mutual pinning are finally put the button on.

Instead of being disappointed, it's glee that's undulating in your skin. When Ben and you started this game, you believed it would be a fleeting fling. But now, you don't want what it resulted to end. You want this to proceed with what it has to unearth in the future.

You aren't naïve, you aren't unaware of your circumstances. But your stupid heart, that you thought dead, is beating with such vehemence you don't recognise. With something alien to you…. could it be love?

You shake your head at the absurdity of which. But you can't help the smile that pulls on your lips as you remember Ben's promise. You're his now.

Jack taught you to always distinguish between business and pleasure. but here you are, in a mess of business and pleasure yet in neither. You're in a mess of what you forgot long ago. Life.

Ben has brought life back to your miserable existence, and whether you like it or not, your heart is beating for that man even if his feelings don't requite yours. At least he shows some kind of interest, a benign one.

As the sounds of passion keep pouring through the walls, you wonder if Ben joined in one of the activities you saw when he toured you around. Men like Ben tend to be heartbreakers, mean, and uncouth. And he's taken what he wants from you. You push the panicked qualms and doubts about whether he wants anything to do with you or not to the back of your mind. He promised. You remind yourself.

Trying to argue the muscle that is still palpating with vigour in your chest, Jealousy burns your chest at the thought of Ben being with another woman… or women.

Yes, you harbour something for Ben. Lust, love, adoration… you aren't sure, but it doesn't matter, nevertheless. You know he can't be yours the way you can be his. You try to reason with yourself. But alas. You can't accept it, you want him all to yourself just the way he wants you all to himself.

The thought of him with another drives you to sit up.

You find a nightgown hanging next to the bed. You're incredulous to wear it. Many people would have worn it, but you put it on, though.

You rush out of the room, and you're surrounded with naked people again. Back glued to the wall, you tiptoes into a corridor wherein a man and a woman are copulating.

You pass by them then you jolt when you hear a bellowing laugh, “And I tell ya, it was the best shot I had with my bitch of a sister in our entire lives.”

“Betcha.” You hear Ben say, “If it weren't for my order back then; they would've given me slip, because you and your sis decided to pussy out on the mission.”

You raise a brow. It dawns upon you that you never saw that side of Ben. The superhero side of him, if there's any. You're curious, so you encourage yourself to eavesdrop. You want to know more about him.

“You can't blame us, there were citizens in the building!” The other man grouses, “They’re on you, Ben.”

The latter snickers, “Those people were in the way, the mission was to croak the assholes and I did. More people could've been hurt if they'd ducked out.”

Your heart paces up as they talk. Why does this sound so familiar? A bile of bitterness lurches in your throat.

“Still… an entire building was on fire that day.”

“It’s been, what? 10 years? And you’re still bitter about it, kid?”

“Fuck no!” The man scoffs, “I just told you it was the best shot we had with Tessa! Plus, it's been only six years! Nope, can't forget the best day of my career.”

Your breath hyperventilates as the minutiae gets familiar and familiar with you, conjuring up flashes of the day that changed your life for good.

“Not bad for someone who always misses their fucking marks.” Soldier Boy's tone is tight.

Tessa… Tessa… Tessa. You rack your mind fumbling through the inkling of the name. Then it snaps. Tommy and Tessa, The TNT Twins. Two members of Payback. Soldier Boy, TNT Twins, a burning building, six years ago? Could it be the same incident that took your brother's life?

Six years ago, the shitty building you used to reside in was invaded by criminals chased by none other than Payback. You were out in a sleep over at one of your friends’ while your brother was at home sleeping. According to people who gave their account of the incident, the criminals set the building on fire to distract the heroes with rescuing the civilians from the flames rather than going after them. However, and simply put, Payback could catch up with them and annihilate the threat. One of the side casualties was your brother, and you in somehow.

With no close relatives to go to, you had to be dragged from orphanage to orphanage. Until you met Jack when you were sixteen at a bar, and made you what you are now.

You feel the urge to throw up. You were always aware that your brother was a victim to that incident. To those criminals. It didn't occur to you that his death sentence was uttered by Ben.

Tears swell up in your eyes, they exude out in two rivulets down your cheeks, you cover your mouth with your hands to prevent an audible gasp.

You swallow hard and try to pull yourself together. Turning on your heels, you put on your clothes, and head back home. Back to Jack.

🦅 Previous Chapter: Mirrors.

🦅 Next Chapter: A Man's Property.

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @prurose

@leavli, @robertthehoover, @soldiergrimes, @vanessa-boo, @uddiifiigj...

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syrma-sensei · 4 months ago

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Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.6: The New Famous Couple.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: In the early 1980s.

Warnings: smut, angst, power imbalance, misogyny, typical period attitudes.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

“Soldier Boy seems to be infatuated with you, young lady.”

That's what Stan Edgar, one of Vought's associates, tells you after you've been offered a cup of coffee by his assistant. He has you summoned after the incident with Jack days ago. He dismisses the assistant with a lenient manner. The simple act impresses you; a man in power who's nice to his employees.

You're still digesting the fact Jack was kicked out of company like a dog. You've always thought Jack is invincible. You thought he was untouchable. But here we are, they threw him out like trash. Which means, he apparently isn't. He doesn't have control over you anymore. You're another man's property now. Your body shivers at the memory of Ben telling you so.

You take a sip, casting your eyes down. For some reason, the man behind the desk is intimidating you, more than Ben does. You can fathom there's deceit behind his mask of sagacity. And it's not a good sign. You're sick of being below men as such. You want to be free. But now, you're going to act as one, you have to. Because if you don't, you'll have another leash on your neck like the one Jack had on you.

You force a flattered smile, “I’m just a girl who got lucked out, sir.”

“Indeed,” He speaks with such eloquence, “Considering your status with your previous associate, Mr. Harold.”

A bitter bile rolls up in the back of your throat. You wash it down with another sip of your bitter coffee. He has to rub it in your face. You're practically a whore. However, you hold your chin up, “I’m not ashamed of my work, Mr. Edgar.”

That's true. You're not ashamed you survive this cruel world with unseemly means. You're past that. You had to work to eat, to live after your brother died, leaving you all on your own.

“That’s good,” He nods just so, “Because what I'm going to offer you requires no coy coquetry or sleazy bashfulness,” He adds, “I understand your contract designates you to work for us, whether Mr. Harold is associated or not.”

You give him a nod. That's true; your contract with Vought was with you, not with Jack, even though he was involved before. You scoff internally; all you signed were slavery contracts, whether the one with Jack or the one with Vought. There's no way to sugar-coat this. You're their bitch now.

“I was told you were having cold feet about being Soldier Boy's new public partner.”

Your body flinches again as you recall how he told you you belonged to him now. But from what Edgar just told you, you belonged to Vought now. Neither settle well with you.

“Well, I was confused,” You answer. A lie of course, “I thought Crimson Countess was Ben's girlfriend,”

Edgar chuckles, amused, “Well, they were,” He remarks, “But their popularity as a power couple has deteriorated as of yet. People need someone to relate with, and that is going to be you…”

You take another sip of your coffee, your body fidgeting under his perceiving eyes.

Naturally, Edgar picks up on your visible hesitation. “What if I told you I could offer you payback for your brother.”

Your eyes dilate in stupor, blinking as you absorb the fact he knows about your brother. Nobody knew about him but Jack. Edgar seems to have dug after you, which makes you shift in discomfort.

You wonder how your brother will be avenged. Edgar doesn't mean killing Ben, does he? The man is nearly invincible. He's the fucking strongest man alive. So, how? But the nonchalant confidence Edgar is speaking with gives you a hint that he isn't bluffing. But why? To your understandment, Ben is their most important asset. That's why they're keeping you in the first place. For him. Your mind whirl with questions and qualms.

But the most significant one… You want your brother avenged, but do you want Ben to get killed?

Your heart wrings at the thought of a dead Ben.

But he killed your brother, you remind yourself. But you love him…

Emotions burn behind your eyes, you try to hold them back. The war between your heart and mind is an alien sensation to you. And it's burning you up.

“Please him,” Edgar enunciates, tone nothing but business, “Keep him tamed… and on his toes. And your brother will be avenged.”

“How so?” Your brow raises in inquiry. You're still finding it difficult to picture Ben being taken down.

The tip of your stomach roils at the thought of Ben taking away from you. It dreads you how much effect the man has over you. You can't pinpoint it yet, but you're sure it's nothing like what you had with Jack. The thing you have with Ben is much more… intimate… akin to mutual infatuation. You love him, your mind tells you again.

“That’s none of your current concern,” He answers in a matter-of-fact voice, “When the time comes, you'll be informed.”

Despite your bemusement and your colliding feelings, you nod. You do want retaliation for your brother, but do you want it at your heart's expense? Ben is the only one who makes you feel free, safe, protected. He promised you so. Yet, here you are… discussing betrayal with this man.

“What say you?” He presses again.

You open your mouth to answer, but your ears prick up at the sudden ruckus behind Edgar's office door which swings open, followed by a cry, “Get off me!”

You shift in your seat and you're looking at her. Crimson Countess.

Her eyes are on fire as she glowers at Edgar, then at you, “You’re replacing me with her?!” She utters in revulsion.

“Your point has significantly dropped lately, Carol,” Edgar's tone is unchanging, “And that isn't befitting of Soldier Boy's image.”

Countess snickers, “It’s all about that fucker, isn't it?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion; isn't she supposed to be his girlfriend. Oh, she's now the angry ex-girlfriend.

She lets out a sour cackle, then leers at you, “You think a little bitch like you can handle him?” She grins wickedly, “Well, good luck with that…”

You don't like her gloating expression, then your eyes flit back at Edgar. He's looking at you, studying you. He wants to see how you're going to act. Is this some kind of a test? Is he testing where your loyalty lies?

Well, you don't give a damn. All you want right now is to smack that bitch in the face. However, you deliver it in a different way.

The flashing memories of your brother give you the audacity and courage to stick up.

“I think I can handle Ben just fine. And dare I say better than you did, Carol.”

Her mouth gapes at you; she didn't expect the comeback. For all she knows you're some hooker Ben fetched from the street.

You continue, a sly grin on your lips, “Did you know he likes to go on the fifth base?” You let out a mocking snore, “I bet you didn't. But tell ya one thing… he loves it.”

Countess is taken off guard by your blatant impudence. She never had someone like you standing up for themselves against her, you guess. You don't think ruffling a supe’s feathers is a good idea, but the expression on bitch's face is worth it. You feel, for a fleeting moment, power and control flooding through your psyche, and you savour the vigourous sensation.

Countess seethes at you, then she marches in your direction.

You cower in your place, but you don't run.

“That’s enough!” Edgar's voice hauls her in her tracks.

She stops and glares at him, “You want her to take my place? Fine!” Her voice is filled with poison, “Don’t crawl back to me, begging me to keep him in place.”

With that she left.

And your sudden audacity wanes slowly away.

You look at Edgar, and you don't like the way his lips curl up one bit.

Turns out Edgar had a lot up on his sleeves for the two of you. And you guessed right. You didn't like it.

However, for the past few days you've been true to your words, playing your part perfectly as you should as Soldier Boy's new girlfriend.

You two are eyed everywhere together. On television, on the news, they all talk about Soldier Boy's new human girlfriend.

In other circumstances, you'd take this to heart and revel in the attention and the lights. Frankly, you do to a certain degree despite everything that has happened. Perhaps you are actually happy without Jack in the picture. But what dread you the truth you've been avoiding all those days. You are happy with Ben.

Despite Ben's faults and bad temper, he's been actually nice to you since that day albeit you expected the opposite. For some reason — that's baffling you, he's gentle and tender with you. You can even sense sweet affection underneath his harsh facade.

The truth appals you. You're falling deeper for your brother's murderer.

Ben keeps you under his eyes all the time. On and off set. In his shootings and breaks. He can't afford losing you now he practically owns you.

Ever since that day, you provoked something foreign in his soul. Your tears and vulnerability alerted protective instincts over you. He doesn't know how to explain it… but, the only thing he knows is that he'd kill anyone if they hurt you.

What is this you ignited within him? He's not good at those. Sentiments. Love? He scoffs, he never knew what love is. Maybe what's fucking his system up is? He doesn't know. Again, he sucks at this.

But he knows this, if that motherfucker even thought to get near you again, he'd fucking rip him apart.

Now, however, he's relishing in the moment of the flashes around you both, snapping pictures of you together on a red carpet. He gazes down at you, and his expression softens.

You muster a well-feigned smile as cameras taking pictures of you with Ben. Arm looped through his, you wave at the applauding audience behind the fence.

“Soldier Boy, this way!”

“For how long have you two been dating?”

“Is Crimson Countess still in the picture?!”

“(Y/N), what is it like to be Soldier Boy’s girl as an ordinary woman?”

And it goes on and on.

Unlike you, Ben seems to be used to the attention of the crowd. He revels in it, given how poised and well-adjusted to situations like that. You on the other hand, never had an audience as myriad as this one before. Ever since Vought dropped the song, you've been swarmed by scoops and reporters. Vought — at Soldier Boy’s order — hired two bodyguards to maintain your safety from any overly zealous new fan when you leave the tower.

In fact, you haven't left it ever since they kicked Jack's ass out. You spend your days in the tower as if it's your hermitage of abstinence. Life with Soldier Boy is anything but abstinent, though.

Even though he owns you as he claims, he never lays a finger on you. Of course, you sleep in his bed, but to your stupor, Soldier Boy hasn't solicited anything physical from you. He rather scoops you up in his arms from behind, snuggling his face into your neck. You've grown big on the intimate proximity you two share. It baffles you. He made it clear that you were his property, yet he hasn't asked you anything physical ever since.

Now, is the closest you've ever had with him since Herogasm. His arm wrapped around your waist as he flaunts you off to the press.

Tonight is a charity ball for Vought, and they decided it was a good idea to put you on show for the keen fans. Ben reluctantly agreed.

“How is it being Soldier Boy's new girl?” One of the reporters shouts.

You gaze up at Ben, his face is concealed by his mask. He's attending the party with his supe gear. Your eyes fall upon the reporter then at Ben again. A small grin forming on your lips.

They want a show? Let's give them one.

Your lips are on his.

The crowd roars in applause.

When you pull away, your eyes are half-lidded, staring straight at his.

Then he smirked, whispering in your ears, “Good girl.”

And that makes you shiver. The rasp in his voice sends small shocks of pleasure down your spine.

Ben grins at your reaction, pecking your lips again. The audience blare again in acclamation. You grin back.

Then you saunter into the hotel hall where the ball takes place. Ben's arm doesn't leave your waist as he leads you in. Despite the leering eyes looking in your way, you feel protected by Ben.

You spend most of the time at Ben's side, men and women swarm up to him, each racing to kiss his ass better than the other. Although you find it ridiculous, you maintain a polite prestige.

Ben grins at you, he's proud of you. You're handling those cocksuckers like a champ. You know when to speak and when you let out a titter, mostly at some dull joke of those men. On the other hand, he can't stand the way they're ogling you like you're a bag of flesh to prey on. He grows indignant by each passing moment, his arm pulls you closer to his body.

Ben notices they're starting to wear you out, so he decides to let you off the hook, “Could you fetch me a drink, darlin’?” He flashes you one of his giddy grins.

“Sure,” You grin back, “Bourbon with rocks?”

“Atta girl.” He subtly winks at you, making you blush.

Ben's eyes follow your back as you meander to the large bar.

His head turns back to the men around him.

“Stan was right,” One of them piped up, looking at you from his spot. Ben doesn't like how the man's eyes follow your figure with lust swirling in them. “She does fit better as your arm candy than Countess.”

Ben's jaws grate. You're nothing like that bitch. You're truly his, his pretty little treasure.

He glares at the man, his name is Robert or something… he doesn't give enough shit to remember those men's names. Because they don't matter. None of them does. But he has to keep his cool, and conceal the burning urge to gouge each one's eyes out for staring at you. He mustn't show any sign of vulnerability. Not in front of those douchebags, not in front of anybody.

But the man keeps on pushing his buttons as he says, “Legend claims that you intend to keep this one all yours, is that true?”

Rage boils inside of his body. The fucking audacity. Doesn't this man value his life? Because if he utters another word about you, Ben is going to lose it and bashes the man's head into the wall with no ounce of regret.

Ben's eyes narrow behind the mask of his helmet, then forces a grin, “Damn right he is,” He drawls, patting the man's back. He mustn't show them any weakness, because if he does, they'll be waiting to feast on him like vultures do a cadaver. Instead, Ben opts to another option. “What can I say? I'm a bit of greedy man when it comes to such a catch like her.”

He hopes the scalding glare in his eyes conveys the message.

At the other side of the hall, you're waiting for your drinks at the bar table. Sitting on the stool, you fiddle with your thumbs, until you feel someone accost you from your side. You look up and see a woman who's smiling at you.

“Hi, I'm Lana,” She says, extending her hand.

“Hi,” You say, your eyes momentarily flit at Ben who's across the hall then back at her.

Lana orders a drink and makes herself comfortable on the stool adjacent to yours.

“Here you go, ma'am,” The bartender places your drinks in front of you.

“Excuse me,” You tell Lana as you lift the martini glasses up as you're ready to get back to Ben.

“It’s nice, isn't it?” Lana tilts her head to look at you, “Being the sweetheart of America's sweetheart.” You stop in your tracks and turn to her.

“Can’t say it's not…” You answer.

Lana scoffs, “Are you aware of the man under that mask, Miss?”

Your brows furrow, you don't like the tone she's speaking with.

Lana gives her surroundings a quick scan as she leans closer to you, “A piece of advice… from a woman to woman—”

You cut her off, “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“I’m Lana Miller of Daily Supes, and I think you can—”

Your eyebrow twitches in indignation, “How did you get in here?”

“That doesn't matter,” She replies, “What matters is that your boyfriend is responsible for carelessly murdering hundreds of people under the term “accidental casualties”...”

You feel as if an arrow of fire sears through your chest.

“You and I can hold him accountable for his crime—”

“Security!” You screech with a high-pitched voice.

The woman's eyes widen as she sees three guards manueaver their way towards her. She draws a card from her bag and swiftly puts it in your hand, “In case you change your mind.”

Then she sets off. However, the trained guards capture her and see her out of the building.

“Who the fuck was that?” You flinch a bit at Ben's voice coming from behind you.

“A nobody…” You say, balling the card up in your fist.

When you both retire back to Ben's quarters, you both are unhinged. Each for a different reason. Ben is set to prove to those pigs, and himself, that you're only his. And you want to forget about everything by getting intoxicated in sex.

Tonight was rough on you and him. You're still not accustomed to the intense attention, and neither is he to care about someone so… immensely. However, you both did your parts after Edgar had a small welcome speech dedicated to you, the new couple at the podium.

You get each other’s clothes off, and your lips are chasing for more and more kisses.

Once you and Ben are nude, he lifts you up only to throw you into the bed and crawling up your body. Panting softly, you look up at him with half-lidded eyes. There's something feracious in his green eyes.

“Mine…” He seethes, lips pressing to your neck, then trailing down the column of your throat.

You moan as he bites.

He pulls away slightly to admire the hickey he left on you.

“Say it…” He demands.

You grin up at him, “Make me.”

Ben lets out a deep grunt, “Say it, woman!”

You can't help but giggle, how can you not, when you keep the strongest man alive on edge.

“You think this is funny?” His hand reaches the back of your head, tugging your hair roughly.

You moan, hissing at him, “What if I do?”

“So you like it?” His voice is aggressive, “Getting eye-fucked by every man sees you?”

You grit your teeth, your eyebrows arching in defiant, “Isn’t that my new job?”

“Oh, no no,” He growls, “You got it all wrong… sweetheart.” You can feel his cock hard against your belly.

“Your new job is to serve me… obey me… be the good slut you are to me, and only me.”

You feel the tip of your stomach roil, and it bolts straight to your throbbing core.

“Then claim me…” You challenge, “Make me yours again…”

And he does.

Needless to say, you wake up with a sore body the next day. Seems like Ben doesn't take it too kindly when he has his buttons pushed on. Yet, you couldn't resist the temptation. You savour his aggressive passion, even if it hurts you a bit. It's worth it. He makes you feel wanted, protected, and appreciated. And even, dare you say, loved.

“Men like him do not love.”

Here it is again, the voice of consciousness reminding you of the ugly truth. You're in love with your brother's murderer.

The warmth of his chest shrouds you from behind. You shift a bit and snuggle up to his hold, resting your head on his chest. His hand strokes your hair, his chin is on your head.

You smile in complacency.

Unlike you, Ben hasn't slept a wink. After you hit the sack in his arms, his eyes were wide awake, his mind thinking about you.

You're making him weak. He hates being weak. Caring for someone makes one vulnerable, and he can't afford it. He wouldn't have it said that a woman turned Soldier Boy into a pussy.

You open your eyes when you sense him moving away from your hold. He sits up, back to you. You frown, touching his back, but one thing you're sure about is the tangible shift of his aura.

Ben glances at you over his shoulder, “Is it true,?” You blink, then he continues, “What we have?”

You flinch at his question.

“It is to me.” You reply after a pause, “Is it to you?”

He looks away. He refuses to show weakness to anyone, and especially to you.

“I’m a man of my word, and I remember making you a promise.” He answers sharply.

“That doesn't answer my question, Ben.”

“I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” He says, still not facing you.

“Do you love me?” You ask, voice wavering with emotions.

You notice how his body startles at your question.

Finally, he turns to face you, “Love is weakness and I'm not weak.”

You feel a painful twang in your chest, tears burn your eyes.

Ben looks away again, shuffling with his clothes, avoiding gazing upon you.

“See you later…” He says, and just like that, he leaves. Only then you let your tears stream down your cheeks.

He doesn't love you.

He's not as weak and pathetic as you are.

That pernicious voice whispers in your ear, somehow, it resembles Jack's.

You wipe your tears away, get dressed, then march out of the tower into outside. You make it to the closest telephone booth. You open up the wrinkled card, and call the number on it.

“Ms. Miller? This is (Y/N) (L/N).” You say, “You and I have work to do.”

🦅 Next Chapter: The Scandal Date.

🦅 Previous Chapter: A Man's Property.