#at least they weren't tortured the entire chapter this time around lol

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 10 (Link's Parents play BotW)

HA I hopped onto BotW for funsies and to finish studying and I ended up writing a whole whopping chapter while I was there XD I am... half insane at this point, so editing and everything is meh but whatevs!

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

i.e. Link's parents play BotW while protecting their boy and they are ready to take on Ganon himself if they have to.

(AO3 link)

First chapter

<<Previous chapter // Next chapter>>

To Kakariko - The Sheikah Warrior

Abel had to admit his day couldn’t get much more irritating.

Perhaps irritating wasn’t the right word. He wouldn’t call almost murdering a Hylian irritating, nor would he call finding the dead desecrated irritating, nor being launched to the top of a mountain by a stone talus.

Perhaps, then, this next setback was only completely infuriating because of everything else. And now everything was irritating.

The shrines atop these peaks share a connection—their memory the answer to the other’s question. Commit to memory before you start, lest, a failure, you will depart.

Abel stared glumly at the words on the plaque while Til wandered the shrine, scribbling madly to memorize or draw every inch of the place. They’d already known there was another shrine, so it didn’t take much to piece together the meaning. The issue now was that they had to climb yet another mountain and had nothing to show for it, and would then have to double back to this one.

Despite the former knight’s best efforts to stop himself from using the bomb rune to destroy the shrine altogether, his frustration was very evident to his wife, who offered to use the paraglider to travel between the mountains and investigate the other shrine. Abel had flatly refused; Til was not as good a climber as him, after all, and the height difference between the peaks and possible launch points meant she’d have to climb.

Besides, she’d already climbed the tower. It was evident she was as exhausted as he was. Lunch (dinner? He wasn’t sure at this point) hadn’t helped much.

No, Abel had insisted on going instead. The shrine was a safe place to leave his wife and son.

Til walked over slowly, glaring at the slate.

“What’s wrong?” Abel asked.

“It’s this thing,” she said slowly with no elaboration. Abel’s patience was worn thin, but before he could snappily ask, she continued, “It always talks about a travel gate when we activate things. It has to mean something.”

“Don’t they appear as points on the map?” Abel offered, glancing at Link distractedly. The boy hadn’t moved, but he was at least resting comfortably, bundled in several blankets to make a little bed for him.

“Yes, but why call them travel gates?” 

“Because they’re notable travel points?” Abel threw out halfheartedly. He didn’t want to get into this, honestly. He already knew what he needed to do.

Til hummed, hovering her finger over the slate. She scrunched her nose, poking the slate, and Abel refrained from rolling his eyes, patience running out.

“Til, for heaven’s sake, just give me the damn thing so I can take Link—”

The rest of his statement was choked off by a yell of surprise as wife started floating and glowing before vanishing into a string of light .

“TIL!” he shouted, looking around frantically. “TILIETH!”

What had—where did she— what the hell just happened ?!

Link sniffled, but it went unnoticed by his frantic father, who started running around the shrine. When he quickly surmised Tilieth wasn’t inside, he rushed outdoors into a pouring rain, wind whipping chilled pellets of water into his eyes. Shielding himself with his hands, he continued to worriedly search, his heart racing. He couldn’t even fathom what had just happened - it had to be some sort of Sheikah trick, right? He’d seen—

His breath caught. He’d seen Yiga disappear in a mixture of light and enchanted paper. Was this the same sort of magic? He already knew that the old man wasn’t Yiga, it was the king for Hylia’s sake—

A whooshing sound emitted behind him, back at the shrine, and he whirled to see blue strings of light coalesce into his wife, safe, sound, and staring with her eyes wide open.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Tilieth!” Abel slammed into her, hugging her tightly before pulling her away to look her over. “Are you alright?! What happened?!”

Tilieth blinked a few times, seeming to orient herself, and then she smiled reassuringly, cupping his cheek. “I’m okay, Abel. It was the slate - look!”

Her unease melted away in lieu of eagerness and curiosity as she held the slate in front of him. At his confused expression, she explained, “The travel gates! If you touch a travel gate the slate takes you there! I just went to the tower and then came back here!”

“It… takes you… the slate teleports you?”

“Yes!” Tilieth smiled. “Isn’t that wonderful? We could travel to any of these shrines!”

Despite the information pouring over him in a similar fashion to the rain, Abel found himself finally growing a little warm with hope. That could make their current predicament much easier.

“Give it to me,” he said, holding out his hand. “I can activate the gate on the other shrine.”

“Not in the rain, you’re not! You can’t climb with Link like this,” Til argued, grabbing his wrist. “Let’s get inside, you’re shivering.”

Shivering though he was, he could tell his wife was trembling almost as badly. Once they reentered the shrine, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tilieth rubbed her arms in a small hug, chuckling nervously. “I… I am. Just unsettled by that. But I mean, it’s also great!”

Abel watched her uncertainly. “...Can it transport more than one person?”

Both grew silent, and the large, empty shrine hummed ominously as they contemplated the matter. That wasn’t… exactly something they wanted to test out.

“It… should be safe, right?” Tilieth said hesitantly.

Abel didn’t have any reassurance to give, only the fact that he and Link could potentially use it to get back to this shrine once they’d crossed the mountain. The wind that was sucked in between the Dueling Peaks would at least give them a good boost over, but coming back…

Honestly, it was worth a try if it meant he wasn’t paragliding across mountains with an endless fall waiting for him. He wasn’t exactly a fan of heights.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

“No,” Tilieth immediately answered. “Honey, I told you I’m fine.”

Abel directed his attention towards Link. His wife didn’t appear to be injured, but he didn’t want to exacerbate whatever Link was enduring.

That was also when he realized that Link’s eyelashes were fluttering. He hastened over to his boy, kneeling and shaking him lightly. “Link. Wake up.”

Tilieth went to his other side, hand resting over his forehead. Despite his efforts, though, the teenager stilled, and his parents sighed.

“We have to try it,” Abel finally said. “We’re running out of time, and I don’t want to risk dropping him either.”

Putting the boy back in his harness, Abel slowly rose and went outside. Tilieth gave him a drawing she’d made of the patterns inside the shrine. 

“It has to do with the glowing orbs, I’m sure of it,” she said with conviction. “See what you can figure out. I’ll be here, okay?”

Abel nodded, paraglider in his sweaty grip as the wind howled. Taking a deep breath, he decidedly refused to look down, and despite every fiber of his being screaming to not jump where there is no ground , he kicked off from the mountain.

Having started from the very top of the peak, its twin didn’t seem too much taller. However, the combined weight of the former knight and his boy did drag them down a little bit. Abel grunted when he hit the wall, one arm desperately clinging to a stone while the other put the paraglider away. Then he started to climb, and he had to look up and almost mutter a prayer of thanks when the top was just a few reaches away.

This new shrine mirrored the other one, which wasn’t a surprise. Thankfully, with Til’s drawing, the solution became clear quickly. Abel hastily put the orbs where they belonged and snatched up his son in his arms, letting him touch the barrier that encased the monk. When they were teleported outside, the thought of it gave Abel pause. They were constantly being transported as a group - surely the slate could handle what the shrines could do, then?

With Link resting comfortably on his back, Abel looked at the slate, finger hesitantly hovering over the twin shrine. He swallowed and pressed against it.

Immediately, Abel felt a strange lightness to him. His feet left the ground, and he had a strong sense of pulling before the world went white hot and then vanished into darkness for a moment. Then he blinked and in a dizzying realization found himself standing, shakily, in front of the shrine on the other mountain. He gasped for air, having forgotten to breathe, and then anxiously reached up to feel Link still sleeping peacefully on his back.

That… was… not as bad as he expected. And it was far more efficient.

Thank goodness for that .

Entering the shrine, Abel quickly turned over the parchment that Til had given him to show his own drawing to his wife. He smiled as she watched him hopefully. “It worked. And we can solve this one too now.”

Tilieth stole the parchment away before he could get another word in, eagerly moving orbs around. He settled Link on the floor and watched her, giddy with the utmost relief . 

It was about damn time something went their way.

Abel was going to rest a little, but he felt amusement mixed with pity swirl inside him as Tilieth started struggling to carry the ball by the third column. He stepped over to assist her, and she quietly handed the heavy stone over to him, looking a little guilty.

“It’s all right,” he appeased her. 

“You’ve been carrying Link all day,” Tilieth sighed. “I wanted to do something for you.”

“You figured out the shrines,” Abel assured her as he placed the last three stones. “That’s more important than anything. Besides, you climbed the tower - you have reason to be tired.”

As his words echoed in the chamber, the entranceway to the monk’s chamber opened with a hiss, and the couple smiled at each other.

By this point they had managed to find three spirit orbs since departing the plateau. That was nearly as many as what was on the plateau itself. After four shrines Link had stopped bleeding and had even awoken briefly to ingest something. Surely if they could find one more, they’d have similar luck. At least, that was the hope.

Hope. Hope . Goddess above, Abel felt a sense of hope . He huffed a little as he watched Tilieth finger comb Link’s hair while they planned their descent down the mountain. Although he’d known the shrine was meant to heal Link, hope was never quite a word he’d thought about or felt since the Calamity.

It probably won’t last , a bitter voice muttered in the back of his mind.

He looked away from his family. No… perhaps it wouldn’t. But for now he wouldn’t fight it. It almost felt real. Besides, he had to focus on the objective, anyway. Arguing about how his emotions were involved wasn’t going to solve their current predicament.

Abel took a step forward, and the slate chirped.

The couple glanced at the object curiously. Was it the sensor again? Did it detect another shrine? Abel’s earlier frustration with the object had lessened considerably, but he was still hesitant to try and follow its signal. Tilieth seemed equally uncertain, as she opted for looking around for physical clues rather than just grabbing the slate and using it as a compass.

His wife gasped in delight as she looked over the edge. “Abel! There’s another shrine along the main path!”

Along the main path ? Glancing in the same area, looking straight down and feeling his stomach twist a little at the height, he saw an orange glow.

Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t sure if he should be pleased that they found the easily accessible one last or exasperated that it was just their luck. Either way, a shrine was a shrine. “Well… that makes things less complicated. It looks like it’s on a trail going down the mountain.”

So they wouldn’t have to climb or jump. Thank the goddess.

The pair moved quickly, saddling up and stepping with haste. The next shrine came into view, and upon entering, the new puzzle quickly became apparent.

“The switches control the platforms,” Tilieth muttered as she stepped on one and watched a flat platform slant so that a ball could roll into an awaiting receptacle. “I suppose the slate was correct in saying timing is critical.”

“These are children’s puzzles, Til,” Abel commented dryly. “Let’s go.”

And children’s puzzles they were. The first was laughably simple and easy, and thank goodness for that. They deserved the break. He again found himself wondering how these were designed to strengthen the Hero in preparation for the Calamity. Timing in battle was important, of course, but regular combat training could teach that far better than this game of switches and balls. 

Abel’s mouth twisted downward in mild annoyance as the second puzzle sent the ball flying against a wall and down into the bottomless pit.

“Oh, yes, so very easy,” Tilieth giggled. “Maybe let me do this.”

“I’ve got it,” Abel quipped mildly, slightly annoyed as another ball fell from the ceiling to replace the one he’d lost. He quickly got the second ball in its place, hopping onto the lift to get to the last one. The ball slid into place perfectly with one attempt, and the pair let the lift take them to the final platform. Tilieth’s gaze immediately drifted to a treasure chest that was just out of view, and Abel grabbed her gently but firmly by the hand. “Come on, Til, we don’t have time for treasure hunting. Nearly got someone killed with that.”

Tilieth didn’t argue, reasonably in agreement with him, though she still looked a little disappointed. Abel found it a little endearing - his wife’s excitement for discovery was one of her traits that had attracted him in the first place. But by heaven, if it wasn’t a fault when they had an actual mission to complete.

“You know,” Tilieth said thoughtfully. “We actually haven’t gotten any the chests from any of the last three shrines. Why don’t you rest with Link and I’ll see if—”

“Til,” Abel interrupted with a halfhearted glare.

“I’m serious!” Tilieth argued. “It could have important items! Like the sword I found you.”

“Or all the amber you’ve found?” Abel fired back.

“You need to rest anyway,” Tilieth pointed out. “ I’m the one doing the searching. And now I have a way to travel easily between shrines.”

Abel was going to argue further, but his wife pleading look practically screamed let me have this , and he gave in with a heavy sigh.

It wasn’t like anything inside the shrines had been dangerous this time.

“Fine,” he finally said, admitting defeat.

When the pair was transported outside, Abel returned into the shrine while Tilieth eagerly started messing with the slate. He slid to the floor, placing Link on his lap and leaning against the wall tiredly. It was getting dark - he hoped she wouldn’t take too long.

Abel’s gaze drifted down to his son. The burn on his neck was light pink like freshly healed skin. It had been deeper this morning. He smiled at the improvement, but it would definitely scar.

He still couldn’t believe it had even managed to heal as much as it had. Then again, it had been ten years. How long would it have taken that shrine to finish healing if a decade’s work was what the body could accomplish in a few weeks? Abel knew the boy had been far too injured for proper healing, but…

Abel took one step blindly. Then another. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy, he couldn't get words to form. He reached out, his hand trembling, eyes wide with horror, screams caged in his chest, dying with what was left of his heart.

The still fingers. The still feet. The still body. The paleness, the redness, the black and blue and–

Abel couldn't breathe.

Abel snapped out of the memory, his body rigid from experiencing it anew, shaking his head to rid the images from his mind. Goddess. It had been years since he’d thought about that night.

“Why can’t you just wake up, little knight,” he pleaded quietly, brushing some hair out of the boy’s face.

What he would give to see the boy’s blue eyes again. What he would give to see his boy smile, or frown, or pout, or bear that stony expression that had carved his features for the last few years before everything fell apart. He’d take anything, he’d give anything, just to see him again.

The hum of the lift caught his attention instead, and he saw Tilieth rushing forward with a satisfied smile, light blonde hair disheveled. He raised an eyebrow at her appearance. “Everything… all right?”

“Found some weapons for you,” she said triumphantly, showing him a serpentine spear. “Off to get the chest here.”

Abel shrugged as she ran by, leaving the weapon beside him. She bested the puzzles even faster than he had, knowing what to expect. He lost sight of her, but the anxiety from watching her take off across chasms had started to fade. She had managed so far, after all… and to be honest he was fairly certain his mind was growing numb from exhaustion.

He felt frustrated at that, bringing forth some life in him once more. He couldn’t afford to be too tired to care. He had to protect his family. Before he could properly chastise himself and stand, though, Tilieth was back, presenting him with a new gift.

Abel stared at it. “A bandana?”

“Not just any bandana,” Tilieth said as if she were announcing the star of a play. “The slate said it’s called the climber’s bandana, and it’s enhanced with technology to give you core strength and help you climb more easily.”

Abel’s expression grew deadpan. “A technological bandana that makes me magically stronger.”

“Oh, just try it on!”

He sighed heavily, taking the garment. “I’m going to look like a Lurelin fisherman in this, or worse, a pirate.”

“It might look fetching on you!”

Honestly, it was once again not worth arguing. At least his wife’s fetch quests were over. “We should keep moving. The stable isn’t far from here, and we can rest there for the night.”

Tilieth’s bright expression faded. “...Abel… the stable was destroyed in the Calamity.”

The words settled in his mind like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. Years of memories spent resting on the last leg of his journey home, or giving the children a break from riding before they set out on a long trip, flashed before his eyes and were burned away in guardian fire. Abel swallowed. “Of course it was. Was there anything left? We could salvage something, at least.”

Tilieth hugged herself, looking away. Abel wanted to kick himself for even asking. She wanted to speak of the Calamity even less than he did. To placate and distract her, he put the bandana on. “How do I look?”

Tilieth giggled, brushing some hair aside that had fallen into his eyes, trapped in place by the cloth. “Like a dashing knight.”

“You always say that,” Abel huffed with a smile, nuzzling her nose. “How dark is it outside?”

“The sun’s already set.”

Abel chewed his lip, debating the matter. It would be better to cover more ground, but if the stable was completely destroyed, they'd have no cover for the beasts of the night.

Tilieth fidgeted. “The slate… did seem to pick up another shrine, though. In the direction of the stable and…”

And the fort.

Abel suddenly felt his blood freeze. He shook it off, though. “Well if there are more shrines, best get them in while we can. Kakariko will be close enough that we can get to it by the end of tomorrow if we just get to the stable.”

Tilieth hesitantly agreed. The couple headed out once more. Tilieth took the paraglider from her husband and hopped off the ledge, giving him anxiety as he called out to her. When he looked down at the main path on the ground, Tilieth was smiling up at him.

“It isn’t that far of a fall,” she reassured him. “And when it’s just me it’s very easy to glide! Oh, I wish I’d had one of these sooner.”

So you could give me a heart attack sooner? Memories of Link and their daughter, Lyra, pitching themselves off the freshly made stable roof to jump into the little pond by their home passed in his mind. He honestly wasn’t sure how he hadn’t gotten grey hair before the Calamity with the way his family was.

Shaking his head, he opted to climb down rather than follow the slope, as it would reunite them faster. As he did so, he found himself moving more expediently, Link somehow feeling a little lighter. Concerned, he looked at his son, but from his vantage he could see nothing different. When he reached the bottom he made a motion to pull the harness off and look his son over, when Tilieth clapped in delight. “The bandana does help!”

Abel blinked. Was that it?

Good grief. A magical bandana. He shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

A bokoblin horde stood between them and the end of the Dueling Peaks trail, and Abel dispatched them quickly. They had conveniently left a fire just out of sight, allowing him to send a flaming arrow towards some explosive barrels they were harvesting. Nature took care of the rest.

When they rounded the corner of the mountainside, Abel didn’t know what he was going to see, nor did he know what he’d expected. But the old stable was… certainly not in its better days. The giant horse head that usually decorated the tent was long gone, traces of wood all that remained, splintered across the field. The fabric of the tent was mostly torn and rotted, though some of the bare bones of the stable remained. In fact…

Were those people around there?

Abel remembered the traveler’s words from the morning, how some had taken to attacking others to get the resources they needed, and he grew tense.

“Abel, look! There’s another tower! And the shrine’s right here!”

Tilieth tapped him incessantly, pulling him towards a small pond that the children had loved to play in whenever they’d stopped at the stable. Had that shrine always been there? Abel felt like he would have remembered if it had.

Well. They hadn’t started excavating Sheikah technology when the kids were little. But how could this have hidden so easily?

And why in the world did it have a barricade around it?

The movement in his peripheral vision settled, and Abel turned sharply to realize that he’d lost track of the people who had been by the stable. His heart started racing, and he quickly started to unstrap the harness that held Link. “Watch him. I have to make sure those people don’t get near us.”

“People? What people?” Tilieth asked, looking around wildly as she bent down to brace Link against herself.

“We need to find a way in the shrine,” Abel advised, drawing his blade. “It’ll be safe there.”

He really regretted suggesting they move forward. He’d just wanted to save them some time. Impa supposedly had answers for them, after all, and they could only play this game for so long if Link didn’t wake up once more.

Abel felt something get snatched off his head, and he turned to see Tilieth tying the bandana behind her ears. “What are you…?”

“You focus on the threats, I’ll focus on the shrine,” she said quietly, taking the harness from him as well. “I’ll get him inside, don’t worry.”

Nodding, he turned to face the stable once more, but there was still no movement. Where had those people gone? Had they not noticed the couple?

When he turned to make sure he knew Tilieth’s position, he saw her climbing the mountainside with Link on her back. He hissed her name to get her attention - she didn’t need to be exposed for the entire world to see like that–

Tilieth pushed off from the stone, pulling out the paraglider and floating over the wooden stakes that guarded from the shrine, landing heavily at the building’s doorstep. Huffing, she collapsed onto her hands and knees and gave Abel a weak smile with a thumb’s up.

Abel sighed, equal parts exasperated and proud. He saw his wife enter the shrine with their boy, and his chest tightened in worry once more. He hoped whatever puzzle awaited them wasn’t too serious.

After a few minutes, the former knight quickly started to surmise that the lack of movement was likely because whoever was by the stable had gone to sleep. It seemed… awfully trusting of them. Surely, they had to have someone on watch. He wasn’t going to find out.

Taking an uneasy guardpost by the wooden stakes, Abel sheathed his sword, keeping his senses alert.

When someone did emerge from the stable, he narrowed his eyes, hackles raised, until he quickly realized that it was a child .

The little girl in question couldn’t have been more than eight or nine–Lyra’s age when the Calamity took her, his mind whispered. She had dark brown hair and wore clothes that were strikingly similar to styles Lyra had worn.

Those were Hateno clothes.

The child snuck over quickly to Abel’s area, eyes fixed on the shrine. Abel slowly and quietly crept behind the structure so she wouldn’t see him, crouching to hide just below the barricade. The girl picked up some pebbles and threw them into the water.

“Uma!” someone hissed, barely audible over the waterfall crashing behind him. “Get inside, it isn’t safe!”

“But I’m making a wish on the shrine!” Uma argued. “Kelnick said–”

“Uma, come inside, now . That shrine is dangerous, we put a barrier there for a reason!”

Said barrier suddenly burst into flames, magically burning away despite the water it was sitting in. Abel leapt back, alarmed, and the little girl screamed.

And then Tilieth emerged, looking satisfied with herself. Her expression immediately grew panicked when she saw the child and her mother, who were both looking at her in terror.

Abel stepped forward, sheathing his blade and holding his hands out. “We’re not here to cause trouble. Go back to the stable with your daughter.”

“You—the building!” the mother pointed at the shrine. Her eyes traced beyond the shrine and Tilieth, however, and settled on Link, and she let out a gasp. “Is he okay?”

Abel grew tense, but he tried not to become too defensive. The woman was clearly not a threat, and he refused to make the same mistake, even if he didn’t trust her.

“He’s…” Tilieth looked hesitantly at Abel. Neither had really planned on explaining anything of Link’s situation to anyone aside from Impa. After all, the king had spoken of attacks from Ganon, a thought that sent a chill shuddering down Abel’s spine. He had absolutely no intention of making Link any more vulnerable than he was.

“He’s ill,” Abel said succinctly. “Caught something earlier in the day. We’re letting him rest. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh, but you–you should sleep somewhere where there’s shelter, in case there’s rain,” the mother insisted. “We’ve been trying to rebuild the stable, there’s some space for people to sleep now. You should come inside, there are a handful of us.”

“We’re fine,” Abel said warily.

“Please,” the woman continued, pulling her child to her. “I… I know people are scared of strangers these days. But… my father used to run this stable, and I want to be able to make it a place of safety again. I promise nobody will hurt you. My husband has even been practicing fighting! He’s gotten pretty good at fending off ‘blins with a farming pitchfork.”

Tilieth’s hesitancy started to fade, and the look in her eyes spoke more of we should help them than they’re going to hurt Link .

Abel sighed. Tilieth wasn’t wrong in the change of the situation. If the only defense the stable had was a half trained farmer, they weren’t very safe. But he couldn’t exactly lend his aid - he had to take care of Link.

“We need a place to stay the night anyway,” Tilieth whispered.

Abel opened his mouth to argue and found no words coming out. He couldn’t justify abandoning these people when they were in such a false sense of security. But one night’s protection wasn’t going to save them, either. Nevertheless, he relented, though it didn’t drain him of all the tension. Just because this woman was trustworthy didn’t mean her guests were.

He wasn’t sleeping tonight.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly.

As Abel followed the mother into the dilapidated remains of the stable, he clenched his jaw tightly to stave off the emotions wreaking havoc inside of him. Little Lyra ran across his vision, giggling in delight as she chased a butterfly. Little Link pointed to all the horses and gave them names and tried to climb into the pen with all the animals. He shook his head, and his children’s ghosts vanished. He had to focus.

Inside, the beds were all broken or burnt husks, but pillows and blankets had been stacked on the side that still had some canvas covering the half broken tent frame. There were four other people inside. The husband was obvious, wearing a blend of Hateno traditional attire with a stablekeep’s hat, while–

Oh. It was those siblings again.

Thankfully, both were fast asleep. That left one more guest, who immediately made Abel feel a strange sense of both unease and relief.

It was a Sheikah warrior.

Her attire, skin tight and dark, denoted her style of fighting. Her hair was pulled up in a tight topknot, and her face was mostly covered in a black cloth, leaving only hazel eyes, which were watching him intensely. A spear rested loosely on her lap.

Tilieth smiled at her. “You’re a Sheikah, right?”

Abel really wished his wife wasn’t so friendly sometimes. He knew he should be happy to see another Sheikah, but he couldn’t shake the paranoia that had started to creep up his spine ever since leaving the plateau. It had been too long since he’d dealt with other people, it seemed. At least the mother was defenseless, the child harmless. A warrior was a threat, no matter where they were from these days.

He definitely wasn’t sleeping tonight.

The woman nodded mutely, her eyes drifting elsewhere, and Abel realized they were resting decidedly on Link.

They widened.

Abel’s hand slowly reached for his sword, and the warrior rose abruptly, turning away too quickly for him to react and start a fight. Without a single word, the warrior went outside.

The new stablewoman called after the warrior, a little more quietly so as not to disturb the others, and her husband watched with mild concern before turning his attention to them.

“It’s good to see other travelers out here,” he said softly. “Nice to see people venturing out again, you know? I hope you know you’re safe here. I keep watch at night while my wife runs things during the day. That way people are always safe. That’s our first priority.”

Abel stared outside, having lost sight of the Sheikah warrior, and the stablewoman returned, chewing her lip, clearly upset.

“Did she leave?” the stableman asked.

His wife nodded. “I hope we didn’t upset her or anything.”

“Who was she?” Abel asked, eyes narrowing.

“We don’t know,” the woman answered. “We don’t ask those kinds of questions. It isn’t our business, and we don’t really have enough of a business yet to have a ledger.”

Abel sighed and turned his attention to Tilieth. “I don’t think he’s waking up today, Til. Just try to get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“Keep watch?” Tilieth repeated quietly as the pair chose a corner to settle in. “Honey, you need to sleep.”

The former knight shook his head. “This isn’t a shrine. It isn’t as safe. And honestly, as we unlock them, they’re going to attract attention and visitors.”

Which meant the shrines weren’t safe either once they were unlocked. At least not from people - it seemed monsters couldn’t breach them. Given the stablewoman’s fright over them, though, it was possible people would steer clear of them anyway.

Abel sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. This was getting increasingly more complicated. The sooner they got to Kakariko the better. Maybe he could feel safe there. Maybe they would be safe there.

Tilieth settled into an uneasy sleep, Link at her side, and Abel watched them rest.

“You can sleep too, you know,” the stableman piped in encouragingly with a smile. “I’ve got watch.”

Abel stared at the man, his gaze apparently intense enough to make the stablehand shrivel a little under his scrutiny. The man was certainly harmless enough, but Abel didn’t really deem him capable of protecting his family. He wouldn’t leave that in a farmer’s hands, whether he’d fought bokoblins off or not.

Rising, Abel decided to go for a patrol of the stable. His body fought him with every step, clashing priorities in his mind.

You should stay with them. Don’t let them out of your sight.

The farmer will keep watch of them. I’ll hear if something breaks out. I’ll see threats better if I’m outside rather than waiting for them to arrive.

You don’t want to see the fort. You don’t.

He really didn’t.

Fort Hateno had been a beacon of hope when the Calamity had struck. He’d sent his son there to regroup.

He’d promised Link he’d meet him there. Instead he found him in the woods, carried by two Sheikah warriors.

The world spun nauseatingly, and Abel leaned against a fractured wooden frame.

He didn’t have to see the fort. He didn’t need to see it. It was too dark to make out at this distance, anyway. He just needed to make sure nobody attacked the stable.

And it was a good thing too, because there was, in fact, a monster horde making camp nearby. He could see their distorted faces in the flames, though the bokoblins were settling in to sleep for the night. Gritting his teeth, he crept towards their lair, drawing his sword.

A horn blared. Abel looked up and saw a bokoblin on top of a husk of a guardian, blending into the darkness, and he swore.

There weren’t many enemies, honestly. Nine bokoblins was hardly a challenge. But it was the largest horde he’d seen so far, and his fights were far easier when he had armor, a sturdy shield, and hadn’t been running and climbing and carrying his son and being battered and bruised by a talus and a flying tree.

He really was getting too old for this.

Still. He’d killed far more than nine beasts at a time before the Calamity. This would be no different.

Abel snarled as the first bokoblin approached, and he slipped into the battle easily. With each bokoblin slain, he felt a little more like his old self, energized by the rush of adrenaline, the aches of the day burning away.

Nine was a little much when he didn’t have armor, though.

One bokoblin managed to scrape a hit, knocking the wind out of Abel as club met bone, and he rolled to get away from them, cornering himself against a stony wall. He rose quickly, but there were three beasts in front of him now, and his shield wasn’t in the shape it used to be. He saw it dent quickly under one blow, and after he felled two of the three, more took their place. He pushed his foot against the wall behind him, closing the distance as one of the ‘blins created an opening, and an arrow whizzed by his ear, making his veins fill with ice.

Where was the archer? Was it the same beast that had sounded the alarm? He couldn’t defend from the sky as well as the ground.

The bright full moon shifted, a silhouette cutting into its clear white hue, and he saw a bokoblin take aim. He readied his shield but had to parry another attack instead, and after shoving the remaining bokoblins away and creating some space, he looked up to see the bokoblin skewered on a spear, a thin feminine frame behind it.

Abel didn’t have time to consider the matter. He dispatched the last few bokoblins quickly and took a breath, feeling his ribs protest. He clenched his jaw to stifle a groan.

The Sheikah warrior from earlier easily landed beside him, settling her spear on a harness on her back. “You alright?”

“I’ve been worse,” Abel answered truthfully. This didn’t quite feel like a broken rib. Probably just bruised. But at least there would be no monster camp by the stable now. Belatedly, he tacked on, “Thanks for getting rid of the archer.”

The warrior gave a short nod in acknowledgement. She continued to look him over.

“I said I was fine,” Abel reiterated, growing tense under her gaze. He tried to shift the attention off himself. “Who are you, anyway?”

The warrior watched a moment longer and then looked away, debating something. Then she turned away from him. “My name is Sheik.”

With that, the warrior climbed the wall and leapt into a tree, disappearing. Abel watched her for a while longer and then finally gave up. Wherever she was going, he wouldn’t be able to follow anyway.

Sighing, he returned to the stable, slowly lowering himself to the ground to sit beside his sleeping family.

Just one more day. One more day and they’d be at Kakariko.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 16: I Thought I Was In Love Before

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), IMPLIED SEX, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Heavy Petting? Making Out, Nudity, Illusions to Sex, A little bit of self-deprecating thought. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read🪴: "I've Been Waiting For You" by ABBA

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A/N: This chapter is really just a whole lot of fluff and a bit of cheeky spice, that I couldn't help but write. I figured the two of them really needed just a chapter where someone wasn't being tortured, someone almost died, someone was hurt, or them fighting lol. ENJOY!

There were more flowers in your entire apartment than in New York City on Valentine's Day, and you were sure that come morning there would be more flowers in here than what grew on the East Coast in the middle of spring.

Roses exploded from the bush in the corner splashing pinks and coral petals onto the floor, Lily of the valley dipped from outstretched stalks, honeysuckle, lavender, and lilac smiled from the pots on top of your dresser, and the gardenia on your bedside table filled the room with the sweet-smelling aroma. Even the pothos vines that trailed along your walls were brighter and greener, creeping along to secure your curtains while the Jasmine vines that crept up the wall behind your bed shed the white blooms over where Ben and you were laying.

You were sure that you had Jasmine smashed against your skin and threaded in your hair, but you weren't complaining. There was nothing to complain about, not if every time Ben took you to bed was anything like what had happened over the past four hours.

The number of men you'd slept with was in no way extensive, you could count it on one hand, which meant you weren't drawing from a wide range of experiences, not to mention that it had been probably over a year since you'd slept with someone, but Ben easily blew them out of the water.

Usually after you were with someone, you'd compare them to Newton, only because it was the longest relationship that you'd had and really the only guy you'd ever loved. When you'd finally slept with Newton, you'd thought that because you loved each other the sex was supposed to be good… but each time you were disappointed.

You could remember every awkward fumble of Newton's hands on your chest, every slobbery kiss, every time he said that he was "too tired" to return the favor, and every single time you felt unsatisfied while he turned over happy and drifted off while you tried to think of a way to muster up the courage to tell him that you wanted to try something new or at least tell him that you weren't happy.

Not being happy with Newton seemed to be a recurring theme and you didn’t know why you’d stayed with him as long as you did. Perhaps it was because you thought that it was true love, just as Ben stayed with Countess because he thought that was what love was like.

Turns out the two of you had just been waiting to find each other, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Nothing about the way Ben touched you was awkward or hesitant, it was confident, practiced, and just rough enough to give you a glimpse of how strong he really was. The way he kissed you was all consuming, as if he wanted to drink you in, swallow you whole until there was nothing left of you, as if he couldn't help himself but crash into you.

And Ben refused to let you touch him, until after he'd made you fall apart more times than you could count, whimpering, gasping, and screaming his name into the warm air of your bedroom with your hands tangled in his dark hair.

Not to mention you'd never get tired of the moans and breathy groans of your name on his lips. It made you feel powerful seeing Ben that way and hearing him say your name like that. Knowing that you were able to do that to him, to make him feel good the same way that he made you feel like you'd transcended to another plane of human existence. And you didn't think that you'd be able to stop anytime soon.

It was enough to make you regret making him wait for as long as you did. Maybe a part of you thought Ben was all talk, that there was no way that he was as good as he said he was, but you didn't expect Ben to know exactly what you needed as if he could see inside your head. And even though Ben said he wasn't gentle and didn't think that he could "make love" to you, what he just did for four hours came close.

Because he had unmade you, destroyed you, and then the shattered remains that pieced back together after he took you apart cell by cell was filled with so much love and ecstasy that you didn’t know where it all came from.

You'd never felt this way about anyone else in your entire life. Just as Ben thought he'd loved Countess, you thought that you loved Newton, but the way you felt about Ben was nothing compared to how you felt about your ex.

You weren't sure if you'd ever feel this way about anyone else ever. At the back of your mind the realization that you could potentially live as long as Ben did was hovering there and the truth was that you could see yourself spending all that time with Ben. You could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. He was the only one you wanted and you hated how long it took you to admit it to yourself.

But there was a little twinge of something deep down that worried you Ben couldn't commit 100%, and then Ben would do something uncharacteristically soft and it would make you believe whole heartedly that he could.

And even if Ben couldn’t say that he loved you the traditional way, you knew he did. You saw it in the way he held you, saw it in the way he brought you coffee, saw it in the way he walked with you to and from work, and you saw it in the way he cared for you.

There weren't any casualties tonight, except the shower curtain and the rod. The shower had been a good idea in theory to cool off and clean up, until you grabbed the shower curtain and ripped the rod from the wall when Ben twisted his hips in a way that made you see stars.

You suppose that you had instigated it, after you laughed at Ben's inability to fit in your shower, and Ben took it as a challenge, but your plants had been spared.

And you were happy that your headboard had survived, it was antique, and you loved it, but there were a set of divots in the drywall behind the bed that made you hope that Mike wasn’t home and had witnessed what had caused them.

Though you had a sneaking suspicion that Ben had done that on purpose. It wasn't a secret to you how possessive and jealous Ben was, especially not after the way you'd seen him act around Jake. It was a trait that you'd never found attractive until you met him.

But there was something about the Ben’s jealousy and his almost primal need to claim you in every way he knew how that made you want him even more.

You hear Ben mutter your name faintly, breaking through your internal monologue.

You weren't up for moving now, your heart was thunderous against your rib cage, your limbs felt like jelly, and there was a layer of sweat coating your skin. You were laying on your back in your bed where the two of you had ended up, staring up at the ceiling in your bedroom trying to catch your breath, with the sheets and blankets tangled and thrown haphazardly off the sides at your feet.

And despite everything you thought about Ben, you never expected him to want to be close after sex, but he was laying on his side beside you, looking at you with a worried expression. His hand probes along your right wrist to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You breathe because you can't seem to form words at the moment.

"You doing okay there Petals?" Ben looks smug, but you can hear worry slip into his voice.

It made you smile to yourself, because as rough and prickly as Ben's outer exterior was, you knew how much he cared about you even if he was unwilling to admit it aloud.

You take in a deep breath to find your voice and calm your heart. “Are you asking if you broke me with your dick? Or if you killed me with the almost Olympic level sex?”

Ben chuckles, propping himself up so he could stare down at you, his dark hair is falling forward over his forehead, and he's studying you with his green eyes.

He looks handsome. Ben always did, but here in bed with you, he looked normal, happy, and content. After the shower, his hair no longer had all the product that had been in it for the event at Vought, and after how many times you'd run your fingers through it, it was more tousled and scrunched than usual, but you loved it. He looked more like him again, not like the man that Vought had dressed up for the event. He looked like the man you'd fallen in love with.

You wondered if Ben noticed and liked that you looked more like you now, well, you as if you'd run ten miles. You were sure that your hair was a mess tangled and matted against the pillows, your cheeks flushed, and covered in sweat.

How the fuck can he look so good after doing that for four hours? Its unfair. I probably look like I've spent the past four hours trapped in a tornado while Ben looks like he's ready for a photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

"Because I never wanted to go to the Olympics, but I wouldn't mind going with you every once and a while." You cough out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Only once in a while?" Ben smirks. "Because you sounded like you'd be okay going every night not to mention it sure looks like you wouldn't mind going." He gestures to the blooms strewn around the room, before pulling one of the small, white fragrant flowers from your hair.

"Shut up."

Ben only laughs at you, flicking the flower away . "We can go whenever you want." He trails his fingertips against your cheek, brushing back some of the hair that was stuck to the flushed skin. “But you're okay? Sometimes I lose control-.”

“Some women like that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rolls his eyes at you and the hand that pushed your hair away cups your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben's voice is soft and serious, his brilliant green eyes searching your face and then trailing down your naked body to look for injuries that you don't have.

Sure, you were a little bit sore, but it was a good sore, something that you wouldn't mind feeling all the time. The kind of sore that was satisfying to wake up to.

“Well when we first met-“ You begin to say, remembering when Ben had you by the throat and was preparing to rip you in half when he changed his mind and threw you across the room the day Homelander went on ice.

It was an odd first meeting and given how much Ben and you argued it seemed fitting that the two of you met how all great loves should, mid-fight.

You’d always wondered why Ben didn’t just kill you when he had the chance. It would have been one less headache for him to face that day. You remember looking into his eyes and seeing the anger and rage within, feeling just a feeling a shiver of fear skate down your spine when you realized it might be the last thing you ever do. It was honestly the only time that you'd ever been afraid of him. Pushing Annie out of the way had been worth it, knowing that you saved your best friend's life made your sacrifice worth it, but Ben hadn't killed you.

Ben swallows your next words, his lips moving fervently against your mouth, rough, with just a tickle of his beard against your cheeks. Honestly, your lips were already swollen and a little bruised, not to mention you had beard burn in a few places, but you weren't complaining and like hell you were going to stop doing something that felt so good.

 “Don’t fucking bring that up again. I hate that I hurt you.” Ben winces when he admits it, but his hand gently traces the gentle curve of your throat, a frown gracing his perfect lips as if he can imagine the bruised handprint you had for weeks later.

You'd caught him looking at the mark sometimes whenever you were on mission in those weeks together, but despite how the two of you had met, you weren't afraid of Ben. Sure, he had tried to kill you, but you'd done the same thing, so you'd figured the two of you were even. Plus, Ben annoyed you more than he scared you, and you didn't believe for one second that Ben would hurt you on purpose.

Ben might have been rough, but you didn't believe that he would ever find pleasure in hurting you or that he would beat you into submission if you pissed him off.

“It’s our history Ben.” You smile raising your hand to push his hair back, brushing your thumb over his cheek in a gesture that makes his lean subconsciously into your touch. “You can’t change it."

He frowns with a sigh, the green of his eyes lightening in the light from your bedside table lamp.

"Why didn't you kill me that day?" You whisper. "You didn't know me-"

Ben's expression turns to something that almost looks like shame for a moment, before it hardens. "You didn't belong there."

"Where?"

"In all that shit. I could see it in your eyes. I-" His jaw tightens. "I'd never seen someone like you before."

"Like me? Is this when you go back to insulting me again?" You snort.

"No. I-" He bites back his next words. "I've met other supes before, the ones that you said act like gods, the ones like my bastard son but you were-.” Ben huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don't fucking know you were just different, and I didn't want to-" Ben looks conflicted as if he can't find what to say.

Although you usually found Ben’s awkwardness in conversations when they got too personal cute, a part of you broke for him. You wondered if he’d been like that his whole life. If Ben had lived in a world, where he couldn’t open to anyone without an internal monologue from an unseen entity telling him that he was being a “pussy.” You remembered what your grandmother said about Ben’s father, and it only made your heart break more for him.

You made a promise to yourself right then and there that even if it took decades you were going to make Ben comfortable telling you what he was really feeling and thinking. You wanted Ben to know that it didn't make him weak to express emotion that way, that you thought it didn't make him less of a man to talk to you.

Your hand slips from his cheek trailing to curve around the back of his head, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him, pouring as much emotion as you can into it. "It's okay." You murmur against his lips with a small smile. "I understand."

"You do?" He looks surprised.

"Yes.” You nod, trailing your fingertips in his hair. “No one else has ever said that to me or cared to notice. I think I wanted to be a part of that world because of Annie, to be closer to her, but I don’t belong in it. Even after everything that happened with Elijah and Darren-”

“No, you don’t.” Ben doesn’t say it cruelly or with disdain or in a way to belittle you, instead he says it with a sigh, his hand finding your hip, trailing his thumb over the curve of your pelvis. "I want better for you than this."

"This?"

"You working for Butcher, working fifty jobs, coming back to this shitty apartment-"

You lock your arms around the back of his neck with a laugh. "We talked about this, I like our apartment."

Ben's entire body freezes where he's laying next to you, the thumb that was circling your pelvis coming to a halt. "You said our."

"Yes I did." You smile up at him, seeing the way his green eyes have brightened with the word. "The shitty apartment is half yours now."

"What a dream come true." Ben rolls his eyes. "At least at Vought it would have been quieter-"

"I think that Mike's screeching adds to the ambiance." You joke, loving the way his hair falls between your fingers and how Ben seems to lean into your touch before he can stop himself, that he reacts that way to you touching him just as you react to him touching him. But your smile turns sympathetic. "Poor Mike. I'm going to have to get him some noise canceling headphones-"

Ben's eyes darken to an emerald. "Let him listen, maybe he'll learn something. Plus, I did warn him my girl was kinda loud."

"Is that what I am?"

"Yes." Ben smirks. "Fucking finally."

You roll your eyes. "The way we started might have been rocky, but I like where we ended up."

“I do too, but I wish we had ended up here sooner.” His smile turns more into a smirk. Ben's hand grips your waist possessively, sliding you further across the bed towards him so he's leaning over you. “Told you it would be good. We could’ve been doing this since the day we met sweetheart.”

“Patience is a virtue.”  

“That I’ve never had.” Ben hesitates, something flashing through his eyes so quickly that you can't place it. “But you’re okay?” It comes out quiet, and you watch his gaze drop again to your body to check for injuries.

“No.” Ben’s eyes widen at your answer, before you smile and bring his face back down to yours, the words a breath upon your lips. “I’m better than okay, I’m with you.”

The look on his face breaks you, it's so honest, so unlike the usual hardened façade he wore that it made it difficult to breathe. It reminds you of the way your father looked at your mother whenever he'd get home from work, or when the two of them would sway back and forth in the kitchen to an ABBA song, and when he looked at her like she was his entire world and nothing else mattered.

You never thought that you'd want to see Ben look at you like that or that he would ever look at you that way, but now his green eyes are bright and happy, meeting yours and it made you feel so warm that you were sure you would just melt off the bed and into a puddle.

It was what you had imagined when you thought about falling in love with someone else, the past four hours had been exactly that too. It was the romance that you wanted, the one that you tried to use to block off Ben’s countless attempts to try and sleep with you.

And you couldn't have been happier.

"Are you okay?" Your smile turns more into a smirk. "No broken hip or anything? Because at your age I'd think that it's a hazard. Didn't think an old man could do any of that without serious injury."

Ben's gaze turns murderous, something dark shining in his eyes that makes your throat tighten. "You're gonna regret that Petals."

"Oh, am I?" You tangle your fingers in his dark locks, your smirk growing. It brought you joy to make him so angry, to annoy him as much as he annoys you.

"Yes." He growls into your mouth pinning you to the bed, his body caging you in against the tangled sheets and blankets. Ben's eyes are glinting darkly in the light and makes you lose all feeling in your legs. "You are."

A little while later, Ben traces your lips softly with his thumb as you try to catch your breath. You were honestly beginning to fade in an out of sleep, and there was a pleasant ache along your limbs that made you smile with every drag of his fingertips against your skin.

“Petals?”

“Yes Gramps?”

"Don't call me that."

"I think it's cute." You sigh. "I like how out of touch you are with everything. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable." He huffs.

"Yes, you are Gramps."

Ben rolls his eyes, but then laughs under his breath as if he thinks it's ridiculous to try and stop you.

Good, he's learning.

“Will you say it again?” He whispers.

“Gramps?” You joke.

“No.” Ben sighs heavily and jostles your exhausted body to make you stop, but it only makes you laugh at him.

“Say what?”

“What you said before.”

“Ben, I can’t really remember where I am right now so I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.”

“When we were at Vought.”

You press your lips together in concentration trying to understand what he means. You'd said quite a few things to him tonight, things that you'd moaned while gripping his shoulders so tight that you would have left bruises on anyone else, and you try to think of what specifically he could be talking about.

What does he mean- Oh.

“I love you.”  You say it without hesitation, without looking away from his gaze, and without regret. You didn’t hate yourself for falling in love with him and you didn’t want to deny yourself of him anymore. Not when he was holding you close with a softness that Ben had said he was anything but, not when Ben took the time to care about what you liked, and not when Ben seemed truly happy for the first time since he’d been out of Russia.

Ben leans down to kiss you, but this time it’s not rough, it’s not him in a frenzy taking what he wants, it’s gentle and turns hungry the longer his lips are against yours, his hands roaming places along your body that make you sigh and reach up grip his shoulders as an uncontrollable moan slips from your mouth.

If it was always going to be like this you were sure that you’d become insatiable, but you were never going to admit that to Ben. As if you needed to stroke his monumental ego.

Plus, you had a feeling that Ben already knew that.

“Do you believe me?” You murmur against his lips, shuffling your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking up at him with a gentle smile.

“Yes.” Ben whispers. “Because I know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“I wouldn’t ever do that to you Ben. I want you to know that. And I wouldn't manipulate you into being something you're not-"

“I know.” He traces the soft angles of your face with his rough fingertips, sending goosebumps over your skin. “You’re nothing like her.”

He didn’t have to say Countess’s name for you to know who he’s talking about. The last thing you wanted was for Ben to believe that you were telling him you loved him to manipulate him to do something or become something he wasn’t.

“I hope not.”

“It’s what I like about you.” Ben continues. “You’re soft."

"Soft?" You raise an eyebrow trying to figure out if it was an insult.

He nods. "All the other supes I meet act like they have something to prove, but you-" Ben sighs. "You're different. You're kinder, even when you shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be?” You ask mildly confused.

“I-“ Ben hesitates as if what he’s about to say is difficult for him. “What you said that night at the fundraiser is true, I’m not this man. I’m not-“ His expression turns dark for a moment and you realize that Ben was about to say Jake’s name. Ben's jaw tightens and you can see how difficult it is for him to say what comes next. "But fuck Petals you make me want to be that man. I don't think anyone else ever has."

You could feel your eyes beginning to water with the emotion that swelled in your chest. You'd never heard Ben admit something like that, never heard him say that he wanted to be better for you.

“Ben, look at me.” You whisper cupping his cheeks to raise his gaze from your chin. “I don’t want Jake. I want you. I know what kind of man you are. I trust you-“

“But you shouldn't-“ Ben presses and it reminds you of the same thing he said to you before he took you to your bedroom.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed people, tortured others,-“

"I've killed people too-"

"Not for the same reasons. You killed them because they were going to hurt you."

You gently push his hair back from his face. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” He's frowning, eyebrows furrowed together, and you kiss away the frown on his perfect lips.

“I know you. I know about the things you’ve done. I’ve seen the darkest parts and I love you anyway. All the little pieces of who you are make you… you. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t have them."

“But-“

“No buts.” You squish his cheek and Ben gives you an annoyed look that only makes you snort. He was going to need to get used to your antics if he was going to survive living with you. “Everything you’ve done, the choices you made, the things that have happened to you, shaped the man I fell in love with and brought you to me. No one is perfect Ben. Everyone is flawed, it’s what makes us human. But sometimes the flaws are the best part. So please don’t hide who you are from me, because you think you have to. You’re not going to scare me away.”

“How can you say that when I’m so different than you?”

“Because you’re forgetting all the important parts I love about you.”

“Which are?”

“Well now it kinda feels like you’re fishing for compliments Gramps.” You joke and this time the ends of Ben’s mouth quirk up in a half smile. “You protect me, you take care of me, you always listen when I’m talking and you actually remember some of the things I say, you pay attention to what I like, you try to make me laugh with your disgusting sense of humor-“

“You know you like it Petals.” Ben smirks.

“And you annoy me.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Doesn’t seem to be a good thing. Annoying you.”

“It is.” You giggle. “Because no one else annoys me quite like you do.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Ben says, but it's not hostile, he says it with love, almost as if he can't believe how lucky he is.

“I love you too Ben.” You pull his face down to yours, cupping his cheeks with your hands and feeling the beard scratch and scrape against your palms.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He murmurs, trailing his kisses down to your jaw.

“Pretty much everyone you’ve met is from another century so-“

Ben raises his head to glare at you. “You annoy me too.”

“And you see it as a good thing right?” You tap him on the nose.

“Fuck no.”

The bed shakes with your laughter, Ben is still leaning over you, his right hand pushed into the sheets next to your head, his body resting comfortably beside you. You could feel how warm he was, the weight of his body like a warm blanket, and you knew that you could get used to this. You wanted this life with Ben so badly it burned through your body like wildfire. It made your heart ache, just as it used to when you thought about having a romance like your parents, your grandparents, and Annie and Hughie. When you’d think about finding the person who seemed perfect for you in every way.

Funny, given that Ben seemed to be the opposite of you, but that was why the two of you fit so well together.  

“You never listen to me, you always argue, you always find something I’ve done to complain about-“ Ben continues.

“Are you going back to insulting me? Because it wasn't exactly fun for me earlier when you yelled at me."

“Give me a fucking minute.”

You wait.

His voice shifts to something a little gruffer almost confused. “You don’t ask me for anything.”

It was probably the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything, you thought he was going to say that you’re always covered in dirt.

"What?"

“Countess she always-“ Ben frowns. “She was always asking me for shit. Jewelry, clothes, a new car. I always got what she asked because I thought that’s what you do for someone you care about, but you always fight me whenever I try to buy something for you. I don't understand you."

"You've said that before-"

"I know, but it's true. I've never fucking understood you." He smiles when he says it.

"That's okay, you have time to figure it out."

Ben hesitates, his hand tracing your arm. "I guess you do too."

The comment is paired with another rare soft smile, the kind of smile that you wanted to make him have every day for the rest of your life, and you understood why he was smiling like that. Because Ben was allowing himself to be comforted by the idea that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing you, that he wouldn't have to be alone and that you would be with him for as long as he was alive.

Something inside ripped open and you felt your eyes begin to water with the weight of his words, because Ben was saying that he wanted to be with you as long as you wanted to be with him.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I guess I do."

You contemplate for a minute what he said about Countess asking him for things. "Honestly, I do like gifts, but I like gifts that mean something." You sit up, gently pushing him off you, so you can gesture to the bookshelf standing proudly on the other side of your bedroom, the one that Ben bought you at IKEA. "Like the bookshelf."

"I bought you a diamond necklace and you liked the bookshelf more?" Ben sighs incredulous.

"Yeah." You laugh. "I've needed a bookshelf for ages, but I never was able to afford one. Do you have any idea how long I've had piles of books? Years. And-" You shrug your shoulders, gently taking Ben's hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the hardened ridges and rough patches. You couldn't go long without touching him, you were realizing that about yourself and now that you were finally allowing yourself to touch him you weren’t sure when you would be able to stop. "I've also always thought that spending time with someone else is more special than big extravagant gifts."

"Really?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"Because I think there's something wonderful about just existing with someone, of inhabiting the same space and doing nothing at all. Of sinking into someone and just being there." You could feel your cheeks flushing. "When we watch a movie or when we sit and read together or when you walk with me to the plant shop, I like things like that. Spending time together without expectations or a sense of urgency. Taking the time out of your day to be with someone else. And it doesn't have to be sex either-"

"Are you saying that you didn't like the sex?" Ben raises an eyebrow. "Because you certainly sounded like you-"

"No! I-" Your cheeks flush. "I liked the sex."

"Thought so." Ben smirks.

"You're insufferable." You roll your eyes at him, considering what to say next. "I know that it's a little different than the girls you've met in the past, and I know that it might seem a little strange, but you didn't have to take me to Vought to impress me or win my love or something."

Ben looks confused.

"I mean, if you'd shown up on my grandmother's doorstep with a giant box of greasy Chinese food, a cheap bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers I would have been equally happy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm." You continue to trace your fingers over the palm of Ben's hand, loving the way it feels in yours.  "You've got some big hands there mister."

"There isn't anything small about me Sweetheart, you know that. Got to see firsthand" Ben teases sitting up and leaning towards you with a smirk that makes you roll your eyes. He takes your free hand in his left brushing his thumb over the palm. "Yours are kinda small."

"Sorry sasquatch, we can't all have meat hooks."

"I like it." He murmurs.

"That you've got meat hooks for hands?"

"No, I like how small your hands are." He smiles crookedly at you in a way that makes your breath catch.

"Why?"

"Just take the compliment Petals."

"Well, no one has ever complimented my hands before so…"

"I'm sure that I can give a compliment to every part of your sexy body.”

"If you're about to start talking about my ass again, Ben I swear I'm going to lock you in a tree."

“Songs should be written about it. I’m just stating the obvious.”

You shake your head at him and continue to stroke your thumb over his palm while Ben does the same thing. He was being surprisingly gentle, holding your hand as if it was a fragile bird that could fly away at any moment.

“Why do you like my hands?”

Ben is quiet for a moment. “I don't know I kind of like how delicate they are, and I like how you always seem to have some dirt on them-“ Ben smooths his thumb over your palm. “I like how small they look in mine.” He mutters more to himself than to you.

“Ben?” You whisper.

He glances up, an ashamed look on his face. “Yeah?”

“I like how they look in yours too.”

“Really?”

You nod before you look back down at his hands with red cheeks. “I like how big yours are because they feel solid, strong, but also just a little bit gentle.” You could feel yourself blushing all over again. “When we first met, I didn’t think you could be, but you are.”

Ben scoffs.

“Stop.” You look up at him. “You don’t have to pretend right now, it’s just you and me.” You whisper, squeezing his hand encouragingly. "I know that you think that you have to be this tough, no feelings, jerk or playboy or toxic masculinity poster boy, but you don’t. Not around me. I love you and you opening up to me more is not going to make me stop or think less of you. You can tell me how you feel without me judging you."

The look in Ben’s eyes softens for a moment.

“I like the way you are when you’re around me.” You continue in a whisper. “You always seem softer and a bit happier.”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately, instead he continues to let you stroke along his hands. “I-um-I” He clears his throat. “I like who I am around you too.”

Your cheeks warm with his confession.

Ben clears his throat still looking down at your hand watching the gentle movement of your thumb against his skin. "Look, I-" He pauses. "I wasn't just trying to impress you."

"When?"

"At Vought."

"Then why-"

"I don't want you to worry about any of this shit anymore."

"What shit?"

"Paying rent, buying groceries that aren't name brand, walking because you can't afford a car-" Ben sighs. "Fuck, the day we went to IKEA, and you looked at the price of that couch, I hated how you looked and-"

"Ben it's okay. I budget things and it works out. I'm used to it-"

"But I'm not. It's not okay." His hand tightens in yours. "And I don't want you to worry about any of it."

"But-"

"No 'buts' Petals. "

"I don't want you to pay for everything all the time!" You shout.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your money-"

"Not anymore. You're my girl and that means you're not going to worry about any of it as long as I'm here."

"Do you think you're going to stay a long time?" You say it hesitantly, the part of you deep down that worried Ben couldn't be in an exclusive relationship rearing its ugly head all over again.

"As long as you want me here." The determination in Ben's eyes makes your heart stutter a beat, but there was just a little bit of something behind his gaze, something that looked like vulnerability, but it vanishes in the heat of his gaze.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm always going to want you here. It's too quiet without you."

“Then I’ll stay.”

Ben pushes you back against the bed, fitting his body over yours like a warm weighted blanket designed especially for you, kissing you with so much enthusiasm you're not sure that you remember how to breathe. You didn't understand how it could be like this, how you could feel this way about him especially after he annoyed you so much.

But just as he reaches down to grab your thighs to pull them up around his hips, your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

Oh, holy fuck that is so embarrassing.

Ben hesitates and looks at you, your cheeks burning a bright red. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um-" You clear your throat. "I mean I drank some of my latte earlier but-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"I should have known." Ben sighs and extracts himself from the embrace of your thighs, getting up from the bed, and muttering something under his breath that you can't understand. “You always do this.”

"Wait, where are you going?" You ask him as you sit up.

"I'm going to find my fucking phone and order a pizza." He says, running his hand through his hair almost a little angry.

“It’s okay you don’t have to do that-“

“Yes, I do. I mean, fuck Petals, why don’t you ever remember to eat?” Ben grouses.

“Because I have a lot on my mind! A few things happened today, and I was upset because you weren't in the apartment when I got home and-"

Ben leans across the bed to kiss you, securing his large hand at the back of your head. "I'm sorry that you were upset. I swear that I'm going to make it up to you."

"Ben I’m pretty sure that you’ve spent the last four hours making it up to me-“

"Not long enough." He winks in a way that makes your throat tighten. "But let me find my phone.”

"Okay." You reach for his shirt on the floor prepared to help him find it, but Ben's hand comes down to your wrist to stop you. “Let me help.”

"Don't bother getting dressed Petals. This’ll only take a minute." He says with a wide smirk. "And I'm not done with you yet."

You're not sure how you ended up on the couch naked and eating pizza, but somehow that's exactly what happens. When the pizza guy had been buzzed up, Ben had answered the door only wearing a pair of his boxers, his chest still sweaty and his hair tugged in two different directions, but Ben couldn't have cared less.

Honestly, you'd had to stop him from answering the door naked. The guy had no sense of shame, but you figured that someone who had founded Herogasm and spent at least seventy five percent of his week bed-hopping, had probably lost his sense of shame years ago.

Bean and Rex were now sharing the dog bed in the corner, a surprising turn of events, but you hoped that it meant the two of them had sorted out whatever sibling problems they were having.

Ben's arm was thrown over your shoulders, pulling you further into him while you ate a slice of pizza with your head leaning against his arm.

I could get used to this.

You exhale a happy sigh and cuddle further into him. Ben wasn't a cuddler, but he was allowing you to cuddle against his arm. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, eating his own slice while taking sips of a glass of whiskey that he was sharing with you.

Sharing was a relative turn because the one time he gave you a sip, you'd sputtered it all out and almost coughed up a lung while Ben patted you on the back as hard as he dared, laughing all the while at you.

And predictably when Ben and you were done, he pulled you onto his lap, and the only thing you could think of was how wonderful you felt. Being with Ben made you feel vibrant and alive in the best way. He made you feel beautiful and made you feel as if Ben understood you more than anyone else ever had. That he saw through what everyone else called weird or unusual and loved you anyway. It was all you wanted for so long, a man who saw every part of you that others sneered at and fell head over heels.

Ben deepens the kiss, groaning into your mouth as his hands tighten on your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but you don't care. Everything about him felt right, the scruff of his beard scratching against your flushed cheeks, the smell of his shampoo (really yours) floating through the air with every breath you took of him, the soft pillow of his lips urgent as if he wanted to drink you in breath by breath and never come up for air, the rough trail of his calloused hands over your soft skin, and the hardness of his body molding around yours in the best way as you sat on top of him. You didn't feel self-conscious or uncomfortable, you couldn't, not when each time Ben touched you with a reverence as if wanted to savor you, to run his hands over every inch and discover new places that no one had ever been, and make you feel things that no one ever has or ever will.

You're so absorbed in Ben that you don't hear the jingle of keys in the lock of your front door, but you do hear the startled scream.

"What the fuck!" Annie screams as she enters the living room.

"Holy shit! Annie what the fuck are you doing here!?" You screech, diving off Ben and ripping the crocheted blanket off the back of the couch to cover yourself.

Annie had seen you naked before, what she hadn't seen was Ben naked or Ben and you having sex.

Oh, will the nightmare never end?

"I was just coming to find you! I was worried!" She shouts, her hand covering her eyes, but it was too late. You knew that she'd seen everything. And you mean EVERYTHING.

Well, it can't get any worse.

"Hey Annie did you find her and- OH HOLY FUCK!" Hughie exclaims as he enters the apartment behind Annie and immediately slaps his hand over his eyes so loud you can hear the sharp slap of his hand against his face. "I didn’t see anything!"

"Can someone shut the door before Mike comes in here and 'doesn't see anything either!'" You snap, clutching the crocheted blanket tighter against your chest. It was doing little to cover you, due to the wide spaces in between the granny squares, but it was the only thing big enough to cover all of you.

Because that's exactly what this situation needed, my neighbor coming in and getting everything on his Christmas list when he sees me naked on my couch.

"Why try to hide it baby?" Ben shrugs, leaning back against the couch not bothering to cover himself. "I want everyone to see what they can't have." He winks.

You smack him in the face with one of the couch pillows before shoving it into his lap. "You're not helping Ben." You wave a hand and a vine hanging on the back of your door shuts it with a slam.

"What?" Ben leans towards you with a salacious grin. "My girl is fucking gorgeous, should be the star of every wet dream-"

"Ben, I swear I will tie you up and-"

"But we already did that Petals." He grins. "I wouldn't mind doing it again-"

The wave of heat that travels through your body has nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Please do not finish that sentence." Annie interrupts, her hand still covering her eyes. "I'm already scarred for life."

"Join the club." Hughie mutters.

"You wouldn't have been scarred for life if you had just fucking knocked!" You shout at your friend. "Why are you here?"

"I was worried when you ran to the elevators and Ashley finally let me leave that ridiculous party! I tried to call you and you didn't answer, I went up to Ben's apartment and you weren't there, I called your grandmother and she said that she hadn't heard from you, so I figured you were here!"

"You called Di?" Ben asks.

"I was desperate!" Annie sighs. "I wanted to make sure she was okay-"

"Uh-huh well, you can see that she's fine and we were in the middle of something. Unless the two of you want to get another eyeful of my girl's perfect ass, you should clear out-"

"Ben!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"Absolutely, Annie let's go-" Hughie begins to say stepping backward with his hand over his eyes. He gropes through the air blindly trying to find her, but he comes up empty.

"Wait!" Annie removes her hand from her face, giving Ben a once over and not bothering to hide what she was doing.

"What do you have to wait for?" Hughie asks still reaching out for Annie with his eyes closed.

"Annie for fucks sake-" You groan, but Ben seemed to like all the attention.

She gives you a thumbs up. "I want details tomorrow."

It was more of a high five moment and you both knew it, but you weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

"ANNIE!" You huff face blushing an even brighter red. By now you were sure that you were as red as the strawberries that were hanging on the plant on your kitchen table.

"Bye babe!" Annie says cheerfully, pulling Hughie out the door behind her and slamming it.

"I'm going to kill her." You mutter under your breath, but Ben laughs.

"You're going to talk me up right baby?" Ben purrs wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him again. His lips fall to your ear, biting your earlobe before he murmurs. "Tell her all about how good I was?"

"Keep talking and I'm going to tell her that I had to fake it for four hours." You threaten.

It was an empty threat, like hell you were ever going to forget what Ben had done to you. And of course, you were going to tell Annie everything tomorrow over coffee or maybe over wine.

Definitely wine. I’m going to need to get a little bit drunk to cope with the thought that Hughie just saw me naked.

"Aww don't be like that Petals. We both know that you didn't fake anything."

“That you know.”

Ben���s gaze turns dark. “Oh really?” His grip on your waist tightens and he starts to pull the crocheted blanket away from your chest.

“Wait.” You say before you get distracted.

“What?” Ben pulls back. "What's wrong?"

"Annie called my grandmother, which means that she may have tried to call me." You look around the room for where your phone could be. It's between the couch cushions behind you and when you look at the screen you see that your grandmother had tried to call you twice, just as you suspected.

"So?"

"She called me. She must be so worried." You push the call button.

Your grandmother answers on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey Gran, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was-"

"You don't have to explain. I know that you must have been preoccupied." The way she says preoccupied makes your entire body flush bright red.

Oh, sweet baby peony, please tell me that my grandmother didn't watch Ben and me having sex.

"Please tell me that you didn't-" You begin to croak.

"I didn't mean to." She breezes, and she doesn't sound ashamed. "But then Annie called, and I was worried about where you were so I looked ahead a bit and-“

"Oh, for the love of lemon cream pie." You groan, curling up into a ball because that seems the right thing to do after you've found out that your grandmother had a front row seat to see what Ben and you over the past four hours.

The couch shakes beneath you, and you realize that Ben is laughing. You raise your head to glare at him.

"Looks like the cats out of the bag Petals." He croons.

"I will kill you." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Sweet Pea, I was alive when Ben went to yearly herogasms, there really isn't anything I haven't seen." You hear your grandmother say.

"That doesn't matter." You groan, pulling the crochet blanket over your head in shame. "This is mortifying."

"Petals it's okay." Ben rubs your back, but it's not helping. "I did some of my best work, and you really did some-“

"Please do not finish that sentence."

"Honey, I didn't see too much." Your grandmother soothes. "But I am happy you called, because I want to speak to Ben for a moment."

You hold up the phone from underneath the crocheted blanket, remaining inside your cocoon of shame.

I'm never going to be able to look her in the eyes every again. Holy fuck why me? Why me!? I’d rather Mike walk in here while Ben and I were fooling around on the couch.

"Di, what's wrong?" You hear Ben say into the phone, but you don’t come out of your cave.

"What's wrong?" Your grandmother asks calmly. "Oh, let me think for a second… You're a complete MOTHER FUCKING IDIOT!" Your grandmother shouts it so loudly that you could hear it vibrating through the room.

You peel back the crocheted blanket on your head to look up at Ben who seems just as surprised at your grandmother's insult.

"Wait a minute, what did I-"

"No! No talking!" She shouts. "I couldn't have been any clearer, could I? Maybe if I'd hit you over the head with a frying pan it would have cleaned out your ears! Or given your brain a good shake."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?! I told you what you needed to do. I told you that you needed to come here and what did you fucking do? You broke my granddaughter's heart and went right back to Stan Fucking Edgar!"

Ben's eyes shift to yours and you swear you can see a flicker of regret spark behind his gaze. It makes you reach out and take his free hand, squeezing it to ground him here with you. You knew that Ben felt bad about leaving you like that, you heard it in his voice when he talked to you back at Vought, had seen the regret in his eyes when he told you that he ‘should have been there.’

"That's not-" Ben says half-heartedly, his gaze still on you.

"No! It's exactly what happened."

"Stop anticipating what I'm going to fucking say!" Ben snaps.

"And you stop interrupting me!" Your grandmother shouts back.

"But-"

"Benjamin, you better not fuck this up, because if you do, I will fuck you up." The threat hangs heavy in the air. "Now put my granddaughter back on the phone."

Ben huffs something under his breath and hands you back the phone, fuming. You give his hand another apologetic squeeze.

It was embarrassing enough that your grandmother had seen Ben and you having sex, but now you were mortified that she had yelled at him. You understood that they were friends, but Ben was still your boyfriend.

"Gran you shouldn't talk to him like that." You say into the phone, leaning into Ben's bare shoulder to show him that you weren’t angry with him. "He's apologized and it's okay-"

"It most certainly is not okay." Your grandmother says. "And somebody's got to talk to him like that, so it might as well be me."

"But Gran-"

"No buts sweet pea." She interrupts. "Now I know the two of you are busy today, but I would like you to come out here next week."

"Next week?"

"Yes. It's the annual town fall festival and I've got about a million things to bake, and I could really use the help." Your grandmother states. "Plus, Annie's mother is driving me up the wall about it and it would be nice to have someone here to make sure that I don't kill her."

"Oh okay." You frown and the thought of leaving Ben. The two of you had just finally worked it all out and now you were going to have to go back to Illinois. But you couldn't leave your grandmother high and dry. She needed you there and you loved your grandmother. "Well, I guess Ben can take care of Bean and Rex-

"I want to go." Ben interrupts you.

"Really?" You look at him surprised. "It's not something that you'd-"

"I want to go." He says firmly and this time it's Ben that squeezes your hand.

It made you smile, because you could see that Ben wanted to spend time with you even at something that he'd probably hate every second of.

Fuck, I love him so much.

"Okay. We'll be there." You reply to your grandmother, but you don't look away from Ben.

He's got that soft smile on his face, the one that you want to make him have every second for the rest of your life. You were sure that the same smile was mirrored on your own.

"Perfect. Now get back to doing whatever it was that you were doing, and don't forget to call me when you figure out what day you're going to start driving over."

"Drive? Wouldn't we fly?"

"Nope. For some reason you convince Ben that a road trip will be fun." She says knowingly and you realize that she's seen the future again. “Something about experiencing America in the 21st century.” You can imagine her waving her hand around as if she can’t quite understand.

"That's going to take some getting used to." You groan and wonder how much she had seen of your life. "Gran?"

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome." You could hear the smile in your grandmother's voice.

She didn’t need you to explain what you meant, she knew that you were talking about last week when she comforted you and tried her darndest to tell you that Ben and you were meant to be together. She had always been so patient with you, and you knew that she loved you just as you loved her. Going home was never a chore or something you dreaded. It was something that filled you with warmth, something that made you feel like you belonged, and the home was filled with the love your grandmother infused through the air with her thoughtful actions and kind words.

"I love you." You smile.

"I love you too sweetie. I'll see you next week."

You sit there in the silence for a moment, lowering the phone from your ear, before you look up at Ben.

"You okay Petals?" Ben drags the crocheted blanket away from your body, before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Yeah. I am." You smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to secure him against you. "Can you promise me something?"

 "Anything." His hands settle comfortably on your hips, but Ben doesn’t look away from your face.

"That you won’t leave like that again." This time you reach down and pull his right hand up to your chest, directly over your heart so he can feel the gentle beat through his skin.

'Like-"

"Go all radio silent and take all your stuff and just vanish into thin air." You clarify. "I didn't like that. It scared me and I-"

Ben's other hand cups your cheek, pulling your face to his before you can finish your sentence. You can feel how sorry he is, how much he wants to make it up to you. You know deep down that Ben didn’t mean to do that to you, that he only did it because he was trying to push you away, but that didn't make it any less okay.

"I promise." He says into your mouth before nipping at your sore bottom lip and easing the pain with a sweep of his tongue against the soft flesh. "I won't leave like that again."

"Good." But instead of kissing him again, this time you press your forehead into his shoulder with a soft sigh, cuddling into him.

"Tired?" Ben's hand begins to circle at the base of your spine.

"Mhmm. You wore me out old man."

"I thought you were faking it."

"I wasn't faking all of it." You press a kiss into the shadow of his jaw, holding on to him. You wondered if Ben was okay with how clingy you were but given his hand placement you didn't think that it bothered him.

"Thought so." Ben chuckles. "Petals?"

"Hmm?" You hum into his skin, tightening your arms around his neck. He was wonderful and warm in the best way, like the perfect heating pad. Not to mention the way his muscles tensed around your body made goosebumps flicker over your arms. You could feel a wave of happiness and contentment crashing over your head, the longer you cuddled into him.

"Will you promise me something?" He mutters into the top of your head.

"Of course."

He’s quiet for a few moments. "That you won't leave either." Ben whispers it so quietly that you're not sure that you heard him correctly.

You pull back just a few inches to look him in the eye. He looks a little ashamed, and you can practically see the internal self-deprecating monologue inside his head, his face scrunching up in disgust. He opens his mouth, probably to take it back-

Your lips meet his, gentle, unyielding, pouring every emotion you have into it, your hands finding the strands of hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. You wanted Ben to understand that you would never judge him for that, that he could be vulnerable around you without consequence. And you wanted him to believe how much you loved him and how much he meant to you.

Ben moans into your mouth, pulling you tighter against his chest, your body molding against his in the best way, in the way that Ben only could. His hands were everywhere, trailing warmth in their wake, making the tiredness that you had felt minutes ago fade as you began to burn beneath his calloused palms.

He tasted good, he smelled good, and he felt so damn good that it made you feel like you were catching fire one cell at a time, burning until there was nothing left but stardust.

"I promise Ben." You whisper against his mouth before he swallows the words whole. "I promise that I'll never leave as long as you want me here."

He hesitates, hands stilling on your hips. An odd look crosses his face.

"Ben? What's wrong?" You cup his cheeks, worried about him.

"I-" He swallows, but looks frustrated with himself.

"It's okay." You whisper, brushing your lips against his, understanding exactly what it is that he's trying to say. "You don’t have to say it. I know. I love you too.”

And you did know. You knew that it was difficult for him to admit something like that, but you didn’t care. You knew that Ben loved you as much as you loved him, and that was enough for you.

You settle back down against his chest, holding him close to you.

“Come on Petals, let’s go to bed.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes?” You whisper into his throat, nuzzling into his warmth.

Ben’s hand gently trails along your back, holding you steadily on top of him. “Yeah. We can do that.”

And you wondered if Ben liked this as much as you did, if there was a piece of Ben that longed for the quiet moments you loved so much, and the quiet moments when it was just the two of you and no one else.

You feel him press a kiss to your hairline, and it’s enough to send you off into the sweet relief of sleep, swallowed and enveloped in Ben’s warm embrace.

A/N: Just a lovely bit of fluff and a little spice 😉. I really needed to just write a soft Ben and a reader enjoying their time together. 😊 There will be one more chapter that is a little bit of a time jump, but I think it will wrap up the series wonderfully! But don't worry, it won't be the last time I write for this reader and Ben. I have a mini-series planned and a few one-shots planned!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know!

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