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#soft!Ben
zepskies · 7 months
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Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?
Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.
But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!
Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭
Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️
This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader
Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).
Imagine: Ben loses you.
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Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.
He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.
“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.
He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.
One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.
He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.
Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.
When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.
“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.
“And how much did these cost, five cents?”
You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.
“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.
“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”
A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.
“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”
The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.
Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  
So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.
“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”
“On our day off,” he retorted.
“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”
“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.
He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.
Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.
Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.
“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.
Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.
He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.
It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.
Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.
“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.
You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.
You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.
Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.
It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.
You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.
The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.
Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.
Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.
You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.
“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.
He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.
Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.
“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”
Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”
“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”
He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  
Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.
“Bad news for her,” he said.
"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."
"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."
Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.
“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.
His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.
He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.
“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”
Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.
Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.
“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”
In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.
Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.
“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.
You took three hesitant steps forward.
And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.
As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.
It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.
You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.
Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.
“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”
He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.
“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.
When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.
His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.
He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.
Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.
In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.
And it was his own fault.
His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.
His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.
You made the mess…
His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.
His last ones would fall and die with you.
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“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.
He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.
He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.
His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.
“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.
Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.
“Yeah,” he said at last.
“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”
Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.
He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.
You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.
With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.
You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.
Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.
You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.
Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.
And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.
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AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹
Read the Sequel:
A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
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BMD Tag List (Part 1):
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort
@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow
@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2
@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
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77-natchan · 1 year
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I made a little creepypasta comic hope you like it
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io-lu-art · 3 months
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Here we go again. The list of WIPs is getting out of hand.
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whumpypepsigal · 10 months
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Secret Invasion s01e01: “We've been helping you for all these years to ensure that you kept your promise. But after The Blip, you were different. And then you disappeared.”
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batfleckgifs · 8 months
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Deep Water (2023) Dir. Adrian Lyne
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freckleslikestars · 1 year
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You know, you were right. It's actually very beautiful.
FARSCAPE | 1.16 A Human Reaction
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newwavesylviaplath · 21 days
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derry, maine (technically)
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chasingthe2000s · 2 years
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Pals
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angeart · 10 days
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scarian cuddles for ben <3 @xoxo-ren-xoxo
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lemondemonpickuplines · 8 months
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found this on pintrest
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zepskies · 7 months
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Hello! I was wondering... kinda cringy but can I request comparing hand sizes with Soldier boy headcanons
Hey love!! ❤️
Aw, it's not cringey. That's actually really cute! Let me see what I can do for you...
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only on this one, folks! For some smutty musings on those talented fingers.
Headcanon: The way you love Ben's hands.
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You love playing with his hair, slipping your fingers through the soft strands.
But you also love his hands.
Despite the pampered lifestyle he led growing up, Ben is a very tactile person. He likes working with his hands.
You like to catch him when he's cleaning his weapons. He takes them apart and puts them back together expertly. His smooth hands and long fingers glide as they polish metal with a small rag.
You like to watch him try and fail to cook, ultimately burning the eggs. You like the way his hands move quick yet awkward with the wooden spoon scraping across the pan.
(He burns the bacon too. "It's better that way, extra fucking crispy," he grumbles, when you tease him.)
You like the strength in his hands, tempered just for you.
When his fingers brush across your cheek. When they graze your arm absently while something plays on TV. When he comes up behind you and rests a heavy hand at the small of your back. Or when they grip your hips and thighs and ass hard enough to bruise.
When those talented fingers tease you, slipping between your legs and finding the source of your pleasure with ease.
Long fingers slowly dipping inside your wet heat, exploring your inner walls with the practiced patience of a man fully familiar with every part of you.
They know where and how and when to twist and curl, making you utter broken gasps of his name and shudder from deep within.
And Ben gets something he loves: the sound of your voice as you come hard on his fingers, and make it known in his ear...
But sometimes, it's just as simple as laying with him in bed, afterwards, holding one of his hands in yours.
Your fingers trace over each and every one of his, noting the differences of his larger hand in your smaller one. You compare them in your mind: both different versions of smooth, his masculine to your slender. His blunt nails to your longer ones.
One night, you even line up your hand against his, like Tarzan and Jane.
His brows furrow. "The hell're you doing?"
A smile tugs at your lips. "Nothing. You've just got huge hands."
He snorts. "I have a man's hands."
You roll your eyes. Right. But your smile deepens when you bring the back of his hand to your lips. You turn it over and press a sweet kiss into his palm, closing your eyes.
Ben tolerates it.
Or so he'd have you believe.
Really, he just watches you as a tendril of warmth plumes in his chest. His lips hint at a smile.
There are wordless moments when he knows you love him.
He'll probably never tell you out right, but times like these are some of the ones he likes most with you.
They stay in his memory long afterwards. And when the darker ones threaten to cloud his day, he pulls these moments out like old photographs, imprinted on his mind.
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AN: Hehe, hope you guys like this one! ❤️
Just so you know, there's a longer SB imagine coming soon (either this coming week or next), and it is ✨Angsty.✨ 😅
I'll probably release an interesting one next. Though the request was a bit niche, I really got into it! So I'm hoping you all will enjoy. It includes reactions from Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben)...
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Soldier Boy Masterlist
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SB Tag List:
@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman
@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore
@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou
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We interrupt this interview for a sweet-as-fuck hug between two pretty, funny, gangly men
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moondogss · 7 months
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"You think, “You were a child once, and there’s still a child in there, someone who wants to be loved.”"
honestly fuck you ben willbond
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shepscapades · 9 months
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An assortment of Bangarry eepers from over the years… my soft guys with no trauma whatsoever (<- lie) <3
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theangelssing · 1 year
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Good Morning
Ben being Ben, neutral!reader, Ben and Reader are engaged, third pov, spoiler free (only mention is soldier boy’s story)
warnings: physical touch (romantic way), fluff & soft mostly, domestic fluff
a/n: this imagine doesn’t take place during The Boys’ events, I just took Soldier Boy’s story and did the imagine, only based on the tv show! I wrote that one at midnight, sorry if there’s any error, please do tell me. as always, if you want more, feel free to ask!
prompt: what if Soldier Boy was free from the Russian by you a long time ago? You and Ben living an happy romantic life.
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The sun was hitting through the open windows while the curtains were moving slowly because of the wind. It was a peaceful summer morning. The light woke you up. It was still early and you were still sleepy. The body against yours didn’t move when you tried to come closer, you just heard a grunt. You kissed one of your boyfriend’s cheek. Only after that you finally felt an arm around your own body, making you giggle.
Ben and you bought a cosy house far away from the city. You always wanted to live in a cottage and he made sure your dream comes true. You spent many months working together so the house could become your little nest. You were proud of you, and at the end of the renovations Ben asked you to be his spouse and you said yes without any doubts.
As a young engaged couple, you were always watching your ring a lot. Ben chose the perfect one. This morning didn’t escape your routine. You tried to remove your arm from Ben’s and you watched the little ring shining on your finger. It made you smile. You felt and saw Ben’s hand on yours, intertwining your fingers.
“Already awake sweetheart?” he asked while kissing your forehead.
“Mmhmmh,” you muttered.
A small smile appeared on his lips and he started to slowly stroke your hand with his. You really liked the cute Ben, you always liked everything about him, except his misogyny – even though he was doing his best to actually change the way he’s acting as he doesn’t live in 1940 anymore.
“What are you thinking about?” he wondered, as you were staring at your intertwined fingers without moving.
“I wish we could make breakfast together, today,” you replied while moving your head to meet his eyes. He was looking right at you, with his usual lovely morning expression.
“Right, what d’you wanna eat?”
You were kinda surprised he accepted that fast so you didn’t answered right away. You were too lost in his glance anyway.
“Baby? What do you want for breakfast?”
“I want some pancakes! Oh and can we make some cookies too?! Not for breakfast but i really want cookies. With orange juice. Or apple juice! Wait wait, with milk, it’s better with milk.”
You heard him laughing before kissing you.
“Sweetheart, you can eat whatever you want y’know,” he said then kissed your forehead for the second time this morning.
“I know but.. It’s breakfast..”
“Well, let’s have some pancakes with milk for breakfast then we do your cookies while drinking apple and orange juices.”
Oh how you loved this man. He was always there for you whatever you needed or wanted.
“Are you sure you want to make pancakes and cookies with me?” you asked, not so sure of you though.
“Of course, as long as it makes you happy,” he replied with his eyes in yours, the green meeting something deep in your soul, you could feel it.
You muttered a thank you and before being able to understand what was going on, you were in his arms and out of bed.
“Ben!” you yelled as he was holding you on his shoulder. He sure was laughing, proud of him, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him as he was heading to the kitchen.
“I’ll land your majesty on the counter, if that’s good for your majesty.” You just nodded as an answer.
He gave you a little squeeze on your thigh before you felt the wood under you.
“What do we do first?” he asked you.
“We find the ingredients, a bowl and a frypan.”
“Don’t move, I do it.”
You contained your laugh while watching him struggling to find everything. This poor man didn’t know his own kitchen that well.
“Want some help?”
“Uh.. No. You stay on the counter,” he replied, not so sure of himself.
After some minutes Ben finally found a bowl and a frypan. But he was clueless looking in the fridge.
“Do you even know what are the ingredients?” you finally asked him as he was closing the fridge’s door.
“Well.. I never made pancakes y’know..”
“That’s what I thought,” you laughed and get down off the counter. “Let me explain.”
Ben wasn’t the best, you knew about his past, but you were both in love with each other and nothing else mattered during those soft moments. You knew he still had a lot to learn if he wanted to fit in today’s society but you always promised to be there for him. Of course you also knew Soldier Boy would always be Soldier Boy, but for you he was Ben, the man who asked you to become his only spouse. He still was making mistakes but he was so careful with you.
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