#his second exception | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lila-lou · 3 months ago

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✨His second exception - Pt. 33/33✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, FLUFF, LAST CHAPTER GUYS-Pls read the A/N at the End <3

Word Count: 6347

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 33 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

With that, the door finally shut behind them, leaving the house in peaceful silence. Just you, Ben, and Aria.

Ben exhaled deeply, shifting on the couch as he got comfortable. His boots were already kicked off, his supe jacket unzipped, but he made no move to get up—just leaned back, stretching out and cradling Aria against his chest. His massive hand ran over her tiny back, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded circles.

“You’re still all scrunched up, huh, chicken?”, he murmured, smirking down at her tiny legs, which, as always, remained curled up against his chest. He nudged them lightly with a finger, only for Aria to wriggle and pull them back in, making a soft little grunt in protest.

Ben huffed a short laugh. “Stubborn. Just like your mom”.

You chuckled from where you stood, watching him settle in. “She’s comfortable like that. You’re not gonna win this fight, you know”.

Ben glanced up at you with that lazy, lopsided smirk you knew all too well. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on losing, either”.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to stand beside the couch. “You know what else you’re not planning on doing?”. You leaned down slightly, wrinkling your nose. “Skipping a shower after being gone for a hole week”.

Ben arched an eyebrow, still rocking Aria lightly in his arms. “What, you don’t like the smell of blood, gunpowder, and pure testosterone?”.

You snorted. “Not on my baby”.

Ben let out a low, amused hum, shifting Aria slightly to free one of his hands. He reached up, grabbing your wrist, and tugged you just a little closer. “Yeah?”, he murmured, his smirk deepening. “But you don’t mind it on you, do you?”.

His voice had dropped into that lower, teasing register, the one that always made your stomach twist in that annoying, predictable way. His fingers ran up the inside of your wrist, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to be unimpressed, even as heat crept up your neck. “Ben, you literally just got home”.

He leaned back further into the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “And I seem to remember a certain someone saying they missed me”, he drawled. “You sure you want me to take that shower alone?”.

You scoffed, shoving at his shoulder—not that it moved him in the slightest. “You’re impossible”.

Ben smirked, shifting Aria slightly as he looked up at you with that infuriating, cocky glint in his green eyes. “Still”, he murmured, voice low and smooth, “I won’t shower alone”.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though the corner of your lips twitched. “Ben”.

“What?”. He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I’ve been gone for a week. You really gonna make me suffer through some boring-ass, lonely shower?”.

You huffed, reaching down to take Aria from his arms, careful not to disturb her as she dozed against his chest. “I would”, you said, carefully cradling her to you, “but I don’t trust you not to fall asleep standing up in there”.

Ben let out a low chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. Now that he’d finally let himself relax, the exhaustion was catching up with him, weighing down his movements just slightly. But even still, that damn smirk stayed in place. “You saying I’d pass out in the shower? Nah. You’d just have to keep me awake”.

You shot him a glare, rocking Aria gently in your arms. “Ben, I swear—”.

He pushed himself up from the couch with a deep grunt, rolling out his stiff shoulders. Then, before you could react, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and unhurried. His lips lingered against yours, the heat of him wrapping around you, and for a second, the world shrank down to just the two of you.

Your lips barely parted from his as you mumbled, “What about Aria?”. The warmth of his breath brushed against your skin as Ben smirked, his hands bracketing your waist, his touch firm but not overbearing.

“She’s out”, he murmured, glancing down at the tiny bundle resting against your chest. Aria was still fast asleep, her soft little breaths even and steady. “And I don’t hear her complaining”.

You sighed, already feeling your resolve slipping, especially when his rough fingers skimmed along the small of your back, trailing heat in their wake. “Ben”, you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was meant to scold or encourage.

You sighed, pressing your forehead against his chest for a brief moment, trying to keep a straight face. But, of course, Ben wasn’t about to let this go. His large hands slid lower, pressing against your hips, his touch both teasing and possessive.

“We just put her in the crib and take the baby monitor with us”, he muttered, his voice low, rough with impatience. Then, with a smirk, he tapped the side of his ear. “Not that I need one”.

You narrowed your eyes at him, even as warmth spread through your body. “Ben—”.

“C’mon, babe”, he whined in that deep, gravelly voice, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck, just below your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing lower, slow and deliberate. “My balls are about to fucking explode”.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible”.

Ben pulled back slightly, looking down at you with those sharp green eyes, dark with something dangerous, something insatiable. “And yet, you love me", he murmured, smirking. “So, what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? You gonna make me suffer after I’ve been gone a whole damn week?".

You bit your lip, trying to stay firm, but the weight of his body against yours, the way his fingers flexed slightly against your waist, made it impossible to think straight.

“…Five minutes”, you whispered, finally giving in.

Ben’s grin was pure satisfaction. “Sweetheart, that’s all I need”.

In your bedroom, he wasted no time, stepping back from you just enough to let you gently place Aria in her crib. You moved carefully, ensuring she was snug and peaceful before reaching for the baby monitor on the dresser. Just as you grabbed it, you felt Ben behind you—his chest pressing against your back, his large hands settling on your hips.

"See?", he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Problem solved".

You exhaled sharply, clutching the monitor as his fingers trailed down your sides. "Ben", you whispered, a weak attempt at resistance.

He smirked, nuzzling into your neck, letting his stubble graze your skin. "I missed you, sweetheart", he rasped, his voice rough and low. "Need you".

You swallowed, heart pounding, as he guided you toward the en-suite bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, he was on you—his hands, his mouth, his heat. His lips crashed against yours, deep and claiming, his fingers gripping your waist as he pressed you against the counter.

"You’re lucky I actually need a shower", he muttered between kisses, reaching past you to turn on the water. "Or I’d say screw it and take you right fucking here".

You shivered as he tugged at the hem of your shirt, peeling it off with an urgency that made your skin burn. "Ben", you breathed against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groaned, his grip tightening on your hips. "Say my name like that again, and this five-minute deal is off the table".

You laughed softly, tilting your head up to kiss him again, letting yourself melt against him. "Then I guess we’d better hurry, huh?".

Ben smirked. "Sweetheart, I don’t hurry—I make it count".

Inside the shower, the moment the warm water cascaded down Ben’s broad shoulders, he wasted no time. His strong hands gripped your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing, maneuvering you until your legs were draped over his strong shoulders. Your back pressed against the cool tiled wall, the sudden shift in position making your breath hitch.

“Oh, shit”, you whispered, your hands instinctively flying into his damp hair, gripping the thick strands.

Ben smirked against your skin, his grip tightening under your thighs to keep you steady. “What?”, he drawled, his voice dark with amusement. “Never had me down here before?”.

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming wildly in your veins. “Just… Where the hell is this coming from?”.

Ben chuckled, low and deep, his breath warm against your core. “Week away had me thinking”, he murmured, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Had me starving”.

Your breath stuttered as you tried to adjust, your hands still buried in his wet hair. The height, the sheer power in how easily he held you up—it sent a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you. “Ben, this is… really high”, you murmured, your thighs twitching slightly.

Ben let out a low chuckle against your skin, his breath hot as he teased, “That’s ‘cause you’re so damn small”. His grip on your thighs tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh just enough to remind you how easily he was holding you up. “Or maybe I’m just too big for you”.

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading tighter through his hair as his lips inched closer to where you needed him the most. The teasing smirk on his face never faded, but there was something else in his expression now—pure, hungry intent.

“Ben—”. You barely got his name out before his lips finally met you, slow and deliberate, taking his time like he had all the patience in the world. The heat of his mouth sent a shiver through your entire body, your back arching against the cool tiles.

Ben groaned against you, the deep vibration shooting straight through you as he worked you open, his grip keeping you steady even as your legs twitched around his broad shoulders. “Fuck, you’re already shaking”, he murmured, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his green eyes dark and gleaming. “You sure you can handle this, sweetheart?”.

You barely had the breath to glare at him, your fingers tugging at his hair. “I swear to—ahh—”.

Your words cut off into a gasp as he dragged his tongue against you again, slower this time, drawing it out just to hear you whimper. The way he was holding you, the way he kept you pinned like you were weightless—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

Ben chuckled against you again, clearly enjoying how easily he was unraveling you. “Gonna have to hold on tight, baby”, he warned, his smirk audible. “I’m just getting started”.

Ben took his damn time, dragging his tongue in slow, lazy strokes that had your entire body shuddering. He wasn’t rushing—not even close. If anything, he was deliberately teasing you, keeping the pressure featherlight, just enough to make you squirm but not enough to satisfy.

Your fingers tightened in his damp hair, tugging, but he didn’t budge. If anything, it just made him smirk against you. “Impatient?”, he murmured, the vibration of his voice sending a shock through your already-overstimulated body. “You’re the one who let me starve for seven weeks”.

You whined, your head tilting back against the cool tile as your thighs twitched against his shoulders. “Ben”, you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please”.

His grip on your thighs tightened just slightly, his breath warm against you. “Please, huh?”, he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to snap back. He knew exactly what he was doing—pushing you to that perfect edge, taking his time just to watch you unravel.

Then, finally, finally, he gave you what you wanted. His tongue flicked against you with just the right pressure, his movements slow but deliberate, tasting you like he was savoring every second.

Your entire body jerked at the sensation, your fingers digging into his scalp as a desperate moan slipped past your lips. Ben groaned against you, his grip tightening, his mouth working you open as he set a pace that was agonizingly slow, but devastatingly good.

“Fuck”, you gasped, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “Ben—”.

He didn’t stop. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him. His tongue moved with precision, slow enough to make you whimper, but deep enough to have your legs trembling around him.

“Better hold on, sweetheart”, he murmured between strokes, his voice low and gravelly. “I’m not letting you down until you break”.

Your release crashed over you hard and fast, your body tightening, shuddering against Ben’s relentless mouth. Your fingers clenched in his damp hair, your thighs trembling around his shoulders as pleasure pulsed through you in waves.

Ben groaned against your heat, savoring the way you came apart for him, his grip firm as he held you through every second of it. Slowly, he eased his pace, letting his tongue drag over you one last time before he pressed a final, lingering kiss to your inner thigh.

Then, with effortless strength, he shifted you, lowering you down onto his hips. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad shoulders for balance, your breath still ragged as your chest pressed flush against his. The heat of his body surrounded you, his erection thick and heavy against your stomach, a solid reminder of just how much he’d been holding back.

Ben exhaled sharply, his large hands smoothing over your waist, his grip steady but hesitant. His green eyes locked onto yours, his usual arrogance tempered by something more careful—something rare.

Ben let out a rough breath, his green eyes dark with something deeper than just desire. His hands settled firmly on your hips, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just above your thighs as he pulled you even closer, your bodies pressed flush against each other.

His smirk returned, lazy and cocky, though there was an edge to it—something more controlled than usual. “Seven weeks, huh?”, he murmured, tilting his head slightly as he let his lips brush against the shell of your ear. “Think you’re ready to take me again, sweetheart?”.

You shuddered at the way his voice dipped, at the way his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse spike. “Ben…”, you started, breathless, but he cut you off with a low chuckle, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Gotta make sure”, he muttered, voice thick with restraint, but his fingers were already moving, trailing down between your legs, teasing at your slick heat. His touch was slow, deliberate. Testing.

He groaned as he felt how ready you were, how your body was already responding to him, clenching with anticipation. “Fuck".

Ben let out a deep, shuddering groan as he slowly lined himself up, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance. His grip on your hips tightened, his control hanging by a thread as he felt how warm, how impossibly tight you were around him. “Shit”, he rasped, his forehead nearly pressing against yours. “You’re even tighter than before, sweetheart…”.

But just as he was about to push in, you suddenly tensed beneath him. “Ben”, you whispered, looking up at him, your expression shifting from pleasure to something more hesitant.

He blinked, his brows knitting together in brief confusion. “What?”. His voice was gruff, breathless, thick with need.

You bit your lip, a tiny, cheeky grin forming despite the flush on your cheeks. “You need to wrap up”.

Ben immediately froze, his entire body going rigid. His green eyes flicked up to yours, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered irritation. “You’re joking”.

You shook your head slowly, biting back a laugh at the sheer look of offense that crossed his face. “Nope”.

Ben groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against. “You gotta be fucking kidding me”, he muttered. “You want me to—after seven weeks—you want me to—fuck”.

You giggled, reaching up to stroke his damp hair. “I know you hate them, but come on, Ben. Unless you want another little chicken running around in nine months…”.

Ben’s face twisted into something that looked both horrified and turned on at the same time. He inhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers digging into your hips. “You’re evil”, he muttered. “You know that? Fucking Evil”.

You only grinned wider, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “So? What’s it gonna be, big guy?”.

Ben let out a long, suffering exhale, his fingers flexing against your hips like he was physically restraining himself from throwing a full-blown tantrum. Then, with a gruff mutter of "Fucking hell", he set you down on shaky legs, his grip lingering just long enough to make sure you were steady before he took a step back.

“Go get one”, he grumbled, clearly annoyed but resigned, his large hands running down his face before he tilted his head back under the hot water. His fingers curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself in check, his cock still standing thick and heavy against his abs.

Before you turned, he reached out and gave your ass a quick, sharp pinch.

You yelped, giggling as you swatted at his arm. “Behave”, you teased, stepping carefully out of the shower.

Ben huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he watched you tiptoe naked and dripping wet toward the bedroom. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, eyes locked onto you like a predator tracking its prey. “But hurry the fuck up, or I’m saying screw it”.

You smirked, shivering slightly as the cooler air hit your damp skin. Moving quickly, you padded over to the nightstand, snatching a foil-wrapped condom from the drawer. As soon as you had it in your grasp, you turned on your heel and walked back toward the bathroom, holding it up between two fingers.

Ben arched an unimpressed brow as you stepped back inside, steam curling around your body. “You look way too fucking smug right now”.

You grinned. “Oh, I am”.

Ben rolled his eyes, muttering something about how he should be the one getting rewarded for his patience. But the second you climbed back into the shower, his hands were on you again, pulling you flush against his chest.

"Hand it over", he grumbled, his voice a low, commanding rasp as he reached for the condom. But before he took it, his lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in punishment for making him wait.

"You’ll see how much better it feels without one”, Ben grumbled against your neck, his breath hot and heavy, the frustration thick in his voice. “So get rid of your fucking grin”.

Before you could respond, he nipped at your skin once more, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. The sharp contrast of the cool air and the heat of his body pressed against yours had you gasping softly.

Then, with an almost annoyed huff, he turned away from the water, shielding his dick from the hot spray as he tore open the foil wrapper with his teeth. His fingers worked quickly, rolling the condom down his thick length with an almost begrudging efficiency.

You watched, still breathless, pressing your back against the shower wall, your body already buzzing from anticipation. His jaw was tight, brows furrowed, as he finished, his large hand stroking himself once before his eyes snapped back up to yours.

Ben let out a deep, frustrated grunt, his fingers adjusting the condom . “Squeezing the shit out of me”, he muttered under his breath.

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh at the obvious discomfort on his face. “Maybe you just forgot how to wear one”, you teased, your voice dripping with amusement.

Ben’s green eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unimpressed. “Or maybe”, he shot back, rolling his hips just enough to press the thick length of him against your slick heat, “you bought the wrong damn size”.

Your smirk only widened, knowing exactly how much that would get to him. “I dunno”, you hummed, tilting your head. “Looks like it fits just fine to me”.

Ben let out a dry chuckle, his large hands gripping your thighs tighter as he lifted you higher against the shower wall. “Yeah?”, he muttered, his voice low and edged with warning. “Feel free to keep talking, sweetheart. See where it gets you”.

You opened your mouth, fully prepared to push him further, but before you could get a word out, he shifted his hips, pressing the thick head of his cock against you, stretching you ever so slightly without fully sinking in.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening against his shoulders. Ben smirked, seeing the change in your expression. “That’s what I thought”, he murmured, pressing a slow, taunting kiss to your throat. “Now, let’s see if this thing holds up, huh?”.

Ben groaned deeply as he eased into you, his thick cock stretching you inch by inch, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you steady against the cool tile of the shower wall. His breath came out in a sharp exhale, his jaw tightening at the overwhelming heat of you around him.

“Fuck”, he muttered, his voice gravelly, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. “So fucking tight. Seven weeks and it’s like you missed me, sweetheart”.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. “Maybe… maybe I did”, you whispered, barely able to get the words out between gasps as he pushed in deeper, inch by agonizing inch.

Ben chuckled darkly, his smirk pressed against your jaw. “That so?”, he taunted, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. “Didn’t seem like it when you were making me suit up like a damn rookie”.

You let out a breathless laugh, but it quickly turned into a moan as he finally bottomed out, filling you completely. Your walls fluttered around him, adjusting to the stretch, and he let out another low groan, his forehead pressing against yours.

“Shit", he muttered, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. “Gonna have to work this condom off you if you keep squeezing me like that”.

You gasped, half-laughing, half-moan. “Ben—”.

He smirked, rolling his hips in a slow, deep thrust that had your head falling back against the tile. “That’s right, sweetheart”, he murmured, nipping at your throat. “Say my name real nice. Let me hear how much you missed me”.

You barely managed a response, your breath hitching as he rolled his hips just right, hitting that spot that sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. Your fingers dug into his damp shoulders, clinging to him as he kept a steady, punishing rhythm, dragging himself almost all the way out before pushing back in, making you feel every stretch, every inch of him.

“Come on”, he gritted out, his grip firm on your waist, his voice dark and teasing. “Seven weeks, and this is all I get? No begging? No telling me how fucking good I feel?”.

You let out a breathless moan, tilting your head back against the cool tile, trying to gather enough words to fire back at him. “Cocky asshole”, you managed, but the insult barely carried any weight with how wrecked you already sounded.

Ben chuckled low in his throat, clearly pleased with himself. “Damn right I am”, he muttered, sucking at the sensitive spot just below your ear. “’Cause I know no one else could fuck you like this. No one else could make you fall apart just by stretching you open”.

His words sent a deep, aching heat straight through you, making you clench around him involuntarily. Ben groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Shit—just like that, sweetheart”, he breathed, his control slipping just a little. “Keep doing that, and this damn condom’s not gonna be the only thing I ruin”.

You whimpered, tightening your legs around his waist, forcing him deeper. “Ben—”.

“Say it again”, he muttered, his pace picking up, harder now, rougher.

Ben growled low in his throat, his grip tightening as he slammed his hips forward, driving himself deeper into you. “Say it again”, he demanded, his voice rough, almost desperate.

You gasped, your nails dragging across his broad shoulders as pleasure built higher, hotter. “Ben”, you whimpered, clenching around him again, making him hiss through his teeth.

“Fuck, sweetheart”, he groaned, pressing you harder against the cool tile, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow. His rhythm was relentless now, each thrust sending shockwaves through you. “You feel that? How perfect you fit around me?”.

You could barely think, let alone respond, but he didn’t need you to. He already knew. He could feel it in the way your body responded to him, in the way you were already so close, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Ben leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he muttered, “Look at you—already so fucked out, and I’m not even done with you”.

A sharp moan tore from your lips as he angled his hips just right, dragging another wave of pleasure from you. Your legs tightened around him, locking him in place, needing more, needing everything.

His smirk returned, though it was strained, his own restraint slipping. “That’s it”, he groaned, his pace growing erratic. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you”.

You didn’t stand a chance. The pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body trembling against his, his name falling from your lips. Your nails raked down his back, your walls fluttering around him as your climax hit so hard you momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Ben let out a deep, guttural moan, burying his face in your neck as he followed, his entire body tensing as he spilled into the condom with a final, shuddering thrust. His breaths were ragged, his chest rising and falling against yours as he came down, still holding you against the wall as if he never wanted to let you go.

For a long moment, the only sound in the shower was your heavy breathing and the water cascading around you.

Then, Ben let out a slow, satisfied chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss against your collarbone. “Yeah”, he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion and smug satisfaction. “That was worth the wait”.

You huffed out a breathless laugh, your fingers still tangled in his damp hair.

Ben slowly eased you down, but the second your feet touched the tile, your legs wobbled. He let out a low chuckle, gripping your waist to steady you. “Shit, sweetheart”, he muttered, smirking as he kept you against him. “Did I fuck the strength outta you?”.

You shot him a tired but amused glare, your fingers tightening slightly against his forearm for balance. “Shut up”.

But before he could throw another cocky remark your way, his head tilted slightly, his sharp green eyes flicking toward the door. His smirk faded into something softer, something focused.

“She’s waking up”, he muttered, voice quieter now.

You blinked, still catching your breath. “What?”.

Ben tipped his chin toward the bedroom. “Aria. She’s squirming. Smacking her lips like a fucking fish”.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you can hear that”.

Ben’s smirk returned, though this time it wasn’t teasing—it was fond, almost proud. “I hear everything when it comes to her”. Then, with a final squeeze to your waist, he grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around your body before reaching for another to dry himself. “C’mon, sweetheart”, he murmured, voice low and warm. “Our little chicken’s hungry”.

You barely managed to wrap the towel around yourself before you had to steady yourself against the doorframe, your legs still wobbly from what had just happened in the shower. You shot a glare toward the bedroom, half-amused, half-exasperated. Ben had done this on purpose. No way was that just him getting carried away��he wanted you to feel like you couldn’t walk straight after.

Smug bastard.

Still, as you pulled the towel tighter around you and carefully padded into the bedroom, you found Ben already ahead of you—still completely naked—lifting Aria from her crib before she could even let out a full wail. His broad arms cradled her tiny body effortlessly, and as soon as she was settled against his chest, her little mouth made a soft, suckling motion against his skin, searching.

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?”. His voice was gruff but warm, and he ran a large hand over her tiny back in slow, soothing circles.

Ben smirked down at Aria, watching as her little mouth suckled instinctively against his bare chest. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Sorry, chicken”, he muttered, adjusting his hold on her. “Ain’t gonna find any food in these”. He gave his chest a playful slap with his free hand. “Flat as a damn board”.

You snorted as you settled back onto the bed, adjusting the pillows behind you. “Well, if she keeps trying, maybe you’ll magically start producing milk”.

Ben shot you a flat look, but there was amusement lurking behind it. “Yeah? That how it works, doc?”. He turned back to Aria, rocking her slightly. “Sorry, sweetheart. Your old man’s not built for the job”.

Aria let out a frustrated little squeak, her tiny fingers curling against his skin as she wriggled, still searching. Ben exhaled through his nose, glancing back at you. “Alright, alright”, he grumbled. “You win”.

He moved toward the bed, sitting down beside you before gently passing Aria into your arms. You let your towel slip just enough to guide her toward you, and the second she latched, her fussing stopped instantly.

Ben huffed, leaning back against the headboard, still very much naked. His green eyes dropped to where Aria was nursing, and after a long moment, he let out a deep, irritated groan.

“This is bullshit”, he muttered.

You arched an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “What now?".

Ben gestured vaguely toward your chest, his gaze flicking between you and Aria. “She gets to suck on your tits all night, and I’m still sittin’ here rock hard”.

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was very much rock hard again, his cock resting against his thigh, thick and heavy. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smirk as you looked back up at him. “You weren’t kidding”, you murmured, amusement lacing your tone.

Ben huffed dramatically, throwing his head back against the headboard. “Yeah, no shit”, he grumbled. His hand dropped to his stomach, fingers twitching slightly like he was resisting the urge to do something about it. “You think I was just talking to hear myself?”.

You chuckled softly, shifting Aria slightly as she continued to nurse, her tiny hands resting against your chest. “Well”, you teased, voice light, “looks like you’ve got a real problem”.

Ben turned his head toward you, his green eyes dark with something equal parts frustration and amusement. “You think this is funny?”, he muttered, his voice lower now, rougher. His free hand trailed along the edge of your towel, teasing at the skin of your hip. “You sitting there all bare, feeding my kid, while I’m sitting here—like this?”. His eyes flicked downward pointedly, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your hip.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you adjusted Aria slightly in your arms. “How is that even possible?”, you teased, casting a glance at Ben’s still-throbbing erection. “You just—literally minutes ago—shot your shot”.

Ben let out a gruff scoff, rubbing a hand down his face before grumbling, “It’s like you just met me”. His green eyes flicked back to you, smirking despite his obvious frustration. “You really think once is enough after a seven weeks break? Sweetheart, I don’t even know what ‘satisfied’ means when it comes to you”.

Sure enough, the second Aria had finished nursing and drifted back to sleep, Ben wasted no time. He carefully laid her in the crib and wheeled her in the bathroom, his movements surprisingly delicate for someone so naturally rough. The moment he turned back to you, however, his restraint snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

“Finally”, he muttered under his breath, his hands already tugging at the towel loosely wrapped around you.

You barely had time to react before he had you pinned beneath him, his massive frame pressing you into the mattress, his mouth claiming yours with a hunger that sent heat straight through you. It wasn’t slow, wasn’t careful—Ben had been holding back for too damn long, and now, he was making up for lost time.

And he didn’t stop at once.

Even after the first time, when your body was still shuddering from the aftershocks, Ben wasn’t finished. He barely gave you time to catch your breath before he had you again—his grip firm, his pace relentless, his voice a low growl against your ear, telling you exactly how much he missed this, missed you.

The second round bled into a third, and somewhere in between, you were barely coherent, your mind foggy from pleasure and exhaustion. You weren’t sure when you finally passed out, only that the last thing you felt was Ben’s strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you against his chest as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

You woke up hours later, still tangled in him, his arm slung possessively around your waist, his breathing deep and steady. Even in sleep, his grip on you never loosened—as if even now, he wasn’t letting go.

Ben never thought he’d get here.

Not in a million years. Not after everything.

His whole life, he’d been told what he was—what he was made for. A soldier. A weapon. Indestructible, untouchable. Love? That was for men with the luxury of normal lives. Family? That was for people who weren’t designed in a lab, for people who weren’t engineered to be a symbol instead of a person.

He was meant to fight, not to feel.

But then, there was you.

His only exception.

The one person who had seen him—really seen him. Past the legend, past the propaganda, past the violence that had built him up and broken him down a thousand times over. You hadn’t flinched, hadn’t turned away, hadn’t seen a monster when you looked at him.

You had seen Ben.

And somehow, impossibly, you had made him believe that he could be more than just the wreckage of the past.

And then, against all odds, against all reason—there was her.

Aria.

A baby he never thought he could have. A baby no one thought he should have. Proof that whatever the hell was in his DNA, whatever was in yours—it worked. Something that shouldn’t have been possible, and yet, there she was. A miracle born from all the things he thought he could never have.

But none of it had come easy.

Nothing in his life ever did.

You had nearly died bringing Aria into this world. And for the first time in his life—his long, brutal, war-torn life—Ben had felt helpless. Not the kind of fear that pumped adrenaline through his veins, not the kind that made him throw the first punch just to make sure he got the last. No, this was the kind of fear that had nearly broken him in half.

The kind that came from standing there, useless, watching you slip away, watching doctors scramble. And for all his strength, for all his power, for all the fights he had survived, he couldn’t fight for you.

But you made it. Aria made it.

And now, years later, as he stood on the porch of your home—Aria’s tiny hand gripping his index finger, her soft chestnut curls bouncing as she tried to match his long strides—he knew what peace felt like.

Not the silence after a battle. Not the weightless nothingness of another mission completed. This.

The sound of Aria’s laughter, the warmth of your gaze as you watched them, the way his world had finally stopped spinning just long enough for him to hold it in his hands.

You stood a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest, a knowing grin playing at your lips. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger”, you teased.

Ben scoffed, but his hand instinctively tightened around Aria’s. “Nah”, he muttered, glancing down at her. “She’s just lucky I like her”.

Aria giggled, her green eyes—so much like his—glowing with mischief. She had your heart, your warmth, but that sharp, unrelenting attitude? That was all him.

“You ready, chicken?”, Ben asked, smirking down at her.

“For what?”, she chirped.

Ben scooped her up effortlessly, holding her up high, ready to swing her around the way she loved it as he turned to you.

But then, his sharp green eyes flicked to your stomach before settling on your face, and just for a second—his smirk faltered.

There it was again.

That feeling. That realization. That fucking exception.

Because there was going to be another one.

And suddenly, his second exception?

Didn’t seem like his last.

-The End-

------------------------

A/N:

And just like that, another chapter of Ben’s story—the one he never thought he’d have—closes. But that doesn’t mean the story is over.

Not yet.

Because life isn’t wrapped up in neat, final endings. It’s made up of moments. Little glimpses of laughter at the dinner table, whispered conversations in the middle of the night, arguments over whose turn it is to change the diaper, and stolen kisses when no one is looking.

And there’s still more to tell.

They’re still not married—because of course, Ben being Ben, he drags his feet on that, even though it’s inevitable. There’s another baby on the way, another exception he never saw coming. Aria is getting older, showing more of that sharp wit and stubborn attitude that is so clearly inherited from both of them. And Ben? He’s still figuring out how to be the kind of man who deserves all this.

So consider this story open-ended.

I’ll be adding occasional updates, little moments from their lives—some sweet, some messy, some absolutely chaotic, because let’s be honest, a life with Ben will never be boring.

After all, for a man who never thought he’d have exceptions, he sure keeps making them.

So one last time for now... Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219 @whump-loverz @fallout-girl219

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles x reader #ben x reader #ben #ben x you #soldier boy x you #the boys soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #his second exception

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lila-lou · 4 months ago

Text

✨His second exception - Pt. 29/?✨

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, ANGST, Maybe some triggers (death chances etc.)

Word Count: 8591

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 29 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

The moment the warmth rushed down your thighs and pooled at your feet, the world seemed to stop. You stared down, frozen in place, your breath catching in your throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. Four weeks too early. Too soon. Panic surged through you as a million fears collided in your chest.

“Ben”, you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the crack in it was enough to make him turn instantly. His gaze followed yours to the puddle on the floor, and his face went pale.

“Shit”, he muttered, rushing to your side. His hands were on you in an instant, steadying you as your knees buckled. “Hey, hey—breathe, baby. Look at me”.

You couldn’t. Your eyes stayed glued to the puddle as the enormity of what was happening crashed over you. “She’s not ready”, you whispered, trembling violently. “Ben, she’s not ready. It’s too soon!”.

His hands gripped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His green eyes were fierce, burning with the determination you’d always relied on. “Stop”, he commanded, his voice steady even as his own panic simmered beneath the surface. “You hear me? You don’t get to spiral. Not now”.

“But—”, you started, tears streaming down your face as you clung to his arms. “She won’t survive. I won’t—”.

“You will”, he said sharply, cutting you off as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours. “You both will. I don’t care what the odds are. I don’t care what anyone says. You’re going to fight, just like you promised me. Just like we promised her”.

Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, his words grounding you even as terror clawed at your throat. “Ben, what if—”.

“No!”, he interrupted again, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “No what-ifs. We’re doing this. Together”.

You nodded shakily, letting him guide you to the couch. Every movement sent sharp pangs through your abdomen, and you knew the contractions weren’t far behind.

Ben didn’t waste a second. “Stay here!”, he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotion in his eyes. He guided you to sit back on the couch, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment before he rushed toward the bedroom. You heard the sounds of drawers being pulled open, zippers being tugged, and the hurried shuffle of his feet as he returned with a fresh pair of pants and your hospital bag.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you changed”, he said, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands were surprisingly steady as he helped you out of your damp clothes, his every movement careful and deliberate. “I know this feels like chaos right now, but we’ve got this. We’ve planned for this”.

Tears welled in your eyes, and your breath hitched as he gently pulled the fresh pants up your legs, avoiding any sudden movements that might worsen your pain. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this”, you murmured, your voice trembling. “She’s not ready, Ben”.

He looked up at you, his hands pausing for a moment as he met your gaze. “She’s a fighter”, he said softly, his green eyes full of conviction. “Just like her mom. And just like her dad. We’re going to get through this. You both are”.

His words steadied you, if only for a moment. You nodded, wiping at the tears on your cheeks as he finished dressing you and carefully helped you to your feet. You leaned into him, clutching his arm as he led you toward the front door.

“Almost there”, he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. “We’ll be in the car in just a minute”.

By the time you reached the car, your legs were trembling so badly that Ben had to lift you into the passenger seat. His hands were firm yet gentle as he buckled you in, adjusting the belt to sit as comfortably as possible around your swollen belly. “Hold on, baby”, he said softly, brushing a kiss against your forehead before shutting the door and running to the driver’s side.

The tires screeched as he pulled out of the driveway, the hospital bag tossed in the backseat. You clung to the armrest, your other hand pressed against your belly as a contraction tore through you. The streets blurred past the windows, the city lights flashing like distant stars.

“We’re going to the tower”, Ben said, his voice tight with urgency but still steady enough to comfort you. “They’re ready for this. They’ll know what to do”.

You nodded weakly, closing your eyes as the pain threatened to overwhelm you. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. “If something happens to me—”.

“Stop”, he interrupted, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Nothing is going to happen to her. You’re both going to be fine. You hear me?”.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you nodded, unable to argue with the determination in his voice. “I hear you”.

Minutes later, the tower came into view, its lights glowing against the dark sky like a beacon of hope.

Ben pulled into the underground parking lot of the tower, the car skidding to a stop in a space closest to the elevator. Before he even turned off the engine, he was out of the car, moving around to your side. The moment he opened the door, he saw the pain etched across your face and his heart clenched.

“Hold on. We’re almost there”, he said, his voice steady, though his hands trembled slightly as he unbuckled your seatbelt.

When you turned your head, through the haze of pain, you saw Dr. Collins standing near the elevator with two nurses, a gurney ready and waiting. Ben had thought ahead—he’d called on the way, his voice sharp with urgency but clear, ensuring everything was prepared for your arrival.

“Ben”, you whimpered, your breath hitching as another contraction wracked your body.

“I’ve got you”, he murmured, slipping an arm under your knees and another behind your back to lift you effortlessly out of the car. His movements were swift but gentle, his jaw set as he carried you toward the waiting team.

“Alright, let’s get her upstairs. We’ll do an immediate assessment. We’ve prepared a NICU already.. just in case", Dr. Collins mumbled.

Her words were professional, but they hit you like a sledgehammer. Just in case. It was a contingency plan, one you’d prayed you’d never need. You clung to Ben’s shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“She’s going to be fine”, he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt as he lowered you onto the gurney. “Both of you will”.

The nurses secured you quickly, their hands gentle but efficient, and within moments, you were being wheeled toward the elevator. Ben didn’t let go of your hand, walking alongside the gurney as they moved. His presence was a lifeline, his grip anchoring you as you fought to keep your composure.

Dr. Collins stepped into the elevator with you, giving Ben a reassuring look as she spoke. “We’ll monitor her vitals closely and keep you updated every step of the way. You’re in good hands”.

Ben´s gaze flicking between you and the doctor. “I’m not leaving her”.

“No one’s asking you to”, Dr. Collins replied with a small nod.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the sterile hum of the machinery broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint murmur of the nurses discussing preparations. Ben leaned close, his forehead brushing yours as he whispered, “Breathe with me, sweetheart. In and out. That’s it”.

You did your best to follow his lead, focusing on his steady presence rather than the sharp waves of pain radiating through your body. The doors slid open to reveal a team waiting in the hospital suite, everything prepped and ready to go.

As they wheeled you in, Ben kissed your forehead again, his voice low and resolute. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”.

Dr. Collins took charge, issuing instructions as the nurses moved swiftly to transfer you onto the delivery bed. Monitors were attached, your vitals checked, and the room became a whirlwind of activity. Through it all, Ben never let go of your hand, his presence a constant in the chaos.

As another contraction hit, sharp and unrelenting, you cried out, your grip tightening on Ben’s hand.

Dr. Collins stepped to your side, her expression calm but focused. “We’re going to do everything we can to keep you both safe. But we need to move quickly. Are you ready?”.

You nodded through the haze of pain, your free hand instinctively going to your belly. “Do whatever it takes”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just save her”.

Ben’s hand tightened around yours, his voice low and fierce. “They’re saving both of you. You hear me? Both of you”.

His words carried a conviction so strong that for a moment, you let yourself believe it, holding onto his strength as the team prepared for what came next.

The last hour had been a blur of pain, fear, and sharp commands from Dr. Collins and the nurses. Every contraction felt like it might split you in two, but still, you weren’t allowed to push. Dr. Collins kept coming to your side, her calm but stern voice telling you to hold on just a little longer as she checked your progress.

You barely registered her actions as she adjusted the monitors, checked your vitals, and injected a smaller dose of the V Medication into your IV line. “This should stabilize her heart rate and ease the strain on her system”, she explained to the nurse, but you could feel the tension in her voice. The words barely registered as you clung to Ben’s hand, trying to breathe through another wave of contractions.

Ben, however, wasn’t as calm. His green eyes burned with frustration and worry as he hovered over you, his other hand pressed against your forehead to brush away the sweat that had gathered there.

Dr. Collins leaned over you, her eyes scanning the monitors before she looked at Ben and then back to you. Her expression was serious but composed, as if she were trying to mask the gravity of the situation. “This isn’t going to be a normal birth”, she said finally, her voice steady. “Not with your body in the condition it’s in”.

You tensed, gripping Ben’s hand tighter as fear clawed at your chest. “What does that mean?”, you rasped, your voice barely audible over the beeping monitors.

Dr. Collins sighed, glancing briefly at the nurse beside her before returning her gaze to you. “The process itself is normal, technically speaking. Your baby is in position, and your contractions are progressing. For many women, this phase of labor can last for hours. But in your case…”, She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Your body is already under immense stress. The V Medication is helping, but it’s only a temporary solution. We need to get her out sooner rather than later to minimize the risks to both of you”.

Dr. Collins placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her tone softening slightly as she continued. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to administer a medication to help speed up the dilation process and fully open you up. It’ll prepare your body for delivery as quickly as possible so we can get the baby out safely”.

You nodded weakly, though fear gripped your chest like a vice. “Will it hurt?”, you whispered, your voice trembling as another contraction rippled through your body, making you cry out softly.

“It may intensify the contractions”, Dr. Collins admitted, her expression apologetic. “But we’ll manage the pain as much as we can. The priority is delivering your baby as safely and quickly as possible”.

Ben’s hand tightened around yours, his voice sharp but not unkind. “Is this safe for her? For both of them?”.

Dr. Collins turned to him, meeting his gaze head-on. “It’s the best option we have right now. Time isn’t on our side, and we need to move quickly. I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to minimize the risks”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline as he turned to Dr. Collins, his voice sharp and on edge. “Why not a C-section?”, he demanded, his green eyes blazing with frustration and fear. “Why are we putting her through this? Just get the baby out!”.

Dr. Collins didn’t flinch, her professional demeanor unshaken as she looked him in the eye. “Because a C-section isn’t possible in her case”, she said calmly but firmly. “Not with the unique situation we’re dealing with”.

“What the fuck does that mean?”, Ben snapped, his voice rising. “What’s stopping you?”.

Dr. Collins sighed, casting a quick glance at you before speaking, her voice measured but empathetic. “You know your baby isn’t… standard”, she said carefully. “With a supe baby, the risks of a surgical delivery are exponentially higher. Her bone density, even at this stage, is far stronger than that of a typical newborn. A surgical incision could damage your her internal organs if the baby reacts defensively".

Ben blinked, his mouth falling open slightly as her words sank in. “So what—you’re saying this is the only way? That she has to go through this, no matter what?”.

Dr. Collins nodded. “Yes. A natural delivery is the safest option—for both mother and baby. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but this isn’t a decision we’ve made lightly. We’re working to keep them both alive, and this is the best chance we have”.

You squeezed Ben’s hand weakly, pulling his attention back to you. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “It’s okay. I can do this”.

“No!”, he said immediately. “It’s not okay. This isn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to—”.

“But I do”, you interrupted, your voice stronger now, even as your body trembled with the effort. “I have to. For her. For us”.

Ben closed his eyes as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“You’re here”, you said, your voice soft but firm. “That’s all I need”.

Dr. Collins stepped forward, her voice calm but urgent. “We need to move now. The medication is already working. You’re progressing faster than expected. It’s time to start pushing”.

Ben wiped at his face quickly, forcing himself to pull it together as he looked down at you. “You’ve got this”, he murmured, his voice steadier now.

You nodded, clutching his hand as another contraction hit, sharper and more intense than before. “I’ll try”, you whispered through gritted teeth.

“No”, Ben said fiercely, leaning closer so his forehead pressed against yours. “You don’t try—you do. You fight, just like you always have. You promised me. You promised her”.

Dr. Collins moved into position, her hands steady as she prepared for the delivery. “Alright, let’s do this”, she said, her voice sharp and commanding. “With the next contraction, I need you to push as hard as you can. We’re bringing this baby into the world”.

As the next contraction hit, you bore down with every ounce of strength you had left. But then it happened—a sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room, followed immediately by a searing, unimaginable pain that tore through your body. A scream ripped from your throat, raw and primal, the sound of agony escaping before you even realized it.

Dr. Collins froze for a fraction of a second, her sharp instincts kicking in as she muttered, “That was the hipbone”. Her face tightened as she instantly barked out orders. “Get me another dose of the V. Now!”, she snapped at a nurse, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. The nurse moved quickly, her hands steady despite the tension in the room.

Tears streamed down your face, and your vision blurred as the pain radiated outward from your hip, mingling with the already overwhelming agony of labor. Your body was a battlefield, each part screaming in protest as you struggled to keep going. The V medication burned like fire in your veins as the nurse injected it into your IV, the sensation almost as unbearable as the pain itself.

“I’m here, (Y/N), I’m here”, Ben’s voice broke through the haze, low and trembling with helpless desperation. He clung to your hand as though he could transfer his strength into you.

But you couldn’t tell what hurt more—the relentless waves of labor, the fiery burn of the V surging through your veins, or the white-hot pain from your shattered hipbone. Everything blurred together into a cacophony of torment, your body fighting against itself as you struggled to bring your baby into the world.

“I can’t”, you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Ben, I can’t—”.

“Yes, you can”, he said firmly, his voice breaking but resolute. “Look at me. Look at me, sweetheart”. His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re not giving up. Not now. Not when you’re this close. You’ve got this. You do”.

“I—”, you sobbed, your body convulsing as another contraction gripped you. The pain was unbearable, tearing through you like a storm.

"Come on, another push”, Dr. Collins urged, her voice cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “You’re so close. The head is crowning”.

You sobbed, trembling with the effort as you clung to Ben’s hand, his steady grip the only thing grounding you. The fire in your veins from the V medication clashed with the excruciating pain radiating from your shattered hipbone, but you knew you had to push. You had to keep going.

Gritting your teeth, you gathered what little strength you had left and bore down. But as you did, an ear-piercing crack filled the room, followed by another and another, sharp and sickening. The pain ripped through your chest, and you screamed, your voice breaking as it echoed off the sterile walls.

Dr. Collins froze for a moment, her face going pale as she muttered under her breath, “More V. Now!”.

The nurse hesitated for a split second, her hands shaking as she prepared another dose of the volatile medication. The fire in your veins intensified as the V was injected, and for a moment, the room spun. Your body felt like it was on the verge of tearing itself apart.

Ben was barely holding it together. His face was a mask of desperation and fury as he looked from you to Dr. Collins, his voice breaking as he yelled, “She can’t fucking take more of this! Do something, for fuck’s sake!”.

“We’re doing everything we can!”, Dr. Collins snapped, her voice tight with focus as she monitored your vitals. “She’s too far along. We’re almost there. One more push, and the baby will be out”.

But then the heart monitor next to you spiked, the alarm blaring as your heart rate climbed to levels that should have been impossible. The nurse froze, her face pale as she turned to Dr. Collins. “Her heart—”.

“I know!”, Dr. Collins cut her off, her tone sharp. “We don’t have time. One more push, and we can stabilize her after”.

Your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the pain reached an unbearable crescendo. Your body screamed for relief, for rest, but you knew there was no stopping now. You had to push. For her. For Ben. For the life you’d fought so hard to bring into the world.

Ben leaned closer, his hands cupping your face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Sweetheart, listen to me”, he said, his voice breaking but fierce. “This is it. Just one more. One more push, and she’ll be here. You can do this. Please, baby. Just one more”.

You nodded weakly, tears mixing with sweat as you locked eyes with him. His belief in you was the only thing keeping you tethered to the moment. Gathering every ounce of strength left in your shattered body, you bore down, screaming through the agony as you pushed with everything you had.

“The head’s out!”, Dr. Collins shouted, her voice sharp with urgency. “Just a little more. One final push”.

“I can’t”, you sobbed, your body trembling violently, but Ben shook his head, his voice fierce and desperate.

“Yes, you can”, he said, his voice trembling with raw emotion. “You will. You’re almost there. Just one more, sweetheart. One more”.

With a guttural scream, you pushed one last time, the pain so blinding it felt like you might pass out. And then, suddenly, the pressure released, and the sound of a baby’s cry filled the room.

“She’s out!”, Dr. Collins announced, holding up the tiny, wriggling baby. Her voice was laced with both relief and urgency as she quickly handed the baby to a nurse for evaluation. “She’s breathing”.

The moment Dr. Collins handed the baby to the nurse, everything shifted. Your body collapsed back against the bed, limp, lifeless. The room blurred into chaos as the flatline from the heart monitor pierced the air, the steady rhythm replaced by a single, shrill tone.

Ben’s hand was still wrapped tightly around yours when he noticed your grip falter. His sharp eyes flicked to your face—pale, unmoving. His stomach twisted into a knot. “Hey!”, he said, his voice low but edged with alarm. “Don’t pull this shit. Wake up!”.

No response. His jaw tightened, his grip on your hand unrelenting as he turned his attention to Dr. Collins.

“Her heart’s stopped”, the nurse shouted, already moving to start compressions.

“Fix it!”, Ben barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now!”.

Dr. Collins didn’t flinch under his glare. “We’re on it”, she said sharply, taking control of the room. “Start CPR! Push epinephrine! Let’s move!”.

The nurse jumped onto the bed, her hands pressing down on your chest in a steady rhythm. Your fragile body jerked with every compression, but Ben didn’t waver. His eyes were locked on your face, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. His free hand ran through his hair, the tension rolling off him in waves.

“You don’t get to quit”, he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Not after everything you’ve been through. Not now”.

Another nurse injected a fresh dose of epinephrine into your IV line, the room buzzing with urgency as Dr. Collins monitored your vitals. The flatline persisted, the sound digging into Ben’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.

The sound of the baby’s cries echoed from the corner of the room, high-pitched and desperate, but Ben didn’t even glance in that direction. His focus was locked on you, his jaw clenched tight enough to grind steel as the flatline persisted, stabbing into his ears. The chaos around him was deafening—nurses barking commands, the rhythmic thud of compressions on your chest, the baby wailing—but none of it mattered. The only thing he saw was you, lying pale and still, as though life itself had abandoned you.

“You don’t get to check out on me. You hear me?”, he growled, his voice low but sharp, aimed entirely at you.

Dr. Collins worked frantically, barking orders while keeping an eye on the monitor. “Push harder”, she commanded the nurse performing CPR. “We still have a chance. Don’t stop”.

“You promised me”, he said, his tone carrying the weight of a command. “You don’t break promises, do you? You don’t give up. You’ve fought through worse than this”.

The baby’s cries grew louder, but still Ben didn’t waver, his eyes scanning your face for even the smallest sign of movement. Nothing. His chest tightened, the weight of helplessness gnawing at his core. He hated this feeling, hated it more than anything. He was the one who told you you’d make it, who swore that you were strong enough to survive. Now it felt like those words were slipping through his fingers along with your life.

“It’s your fight now. And you’re not a quitter. You don’t get to quit on me, on her”, Ben gestured sharply toward the crying baby without looking, his voice rough but steady. “She needs you. I need you. So get your fucking ass back here”.

For a moment, there was nothing but the relentless beep of the flatline. Ben’s grip on your hand tightened again, his jaw set like stone as he refused to look away, refused to give in to the gnawing fear creeping up his spine. The tension in the room was suffocating.

Then—finally—a faint, broken beep sounded from the monitor.

“Got it!”, one of the nurses called out. “We’ve got a rhythm!”.

Dr. Collins’ head snapped up, her sharp eyes locking onto the monitor. “It’s weak, but it’s there”, she said quickly, already issuing new orders to stabilize you. “Keep her going. Let’s stabilize her and prep for ICU”.

Ben didn’t move, his hand still gripping yours like a lifeline. His jaw relaxed just a fraction, and the slightest flicker of relief passed over his face.

Your breathing was shallow, your chest barely moving, but the faint rhythm on the monitor was enough for the medical team to spring into action. Ben stayed rooted beside you, his hand never leaving yours as they worked to stabilize you.

The baby’s cries quieted in the background as one of the nurses approached with her, swaddled and calm. “She’s alright”, the nurse said cautiously, holding the baby close.

Ben glanced over, just briefly, his expression hard to read. He nodded, his eyes flickering back to you as the nurse hesitated. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even when the nurse stood a few feet away, holding the baby. His baby. The tiny, swaddled figure that had caused all of this.

The thought clawed at his chest, a mix of anger and guilt boiling under the surface. You were in this position because of him. Because you carried his child. You’d fought for months, your body breaking piece by piece, all because he had been too stubborn to see the risks. And now, as you lay there with your life hanging by a thread, the full weight of it crashed down on him.

“Sir…”, the nurse said hesitantly, holding the baby closer. “Do you want to—”.

“No!”, Ben snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the nurse flinch. His eyes didn’t leave your face, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’m not leaving her”.

The nurse hesitated, then quietly stepped back toward the other corner of the room, her eyes darting between him and Dr. Collins, who was still focused on stabilizing your vitals. The tension in the room was thick, oppressive, but Ben didn’t care. The baby could wait. Everything could wait. All that mattered was you.

Your chest rose and fell shallowly, the faint rhythm on the monitor the only sign you were still fighting. Ben’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, his touch almost gentle despite the frustration simmering beneath his exterior.

Dr. Collins glanced up briefly, her expression grim but focused. “She’s stable for now”, she said, her voice tight. “But her condition is critical. We need to move her to the ICU immediately”.

Ben straightened slightly, his broad shoulders taut as he stared down at you. “Then move her”, he said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Do whatever the fuck you have to do. Just make sure she fucking stays alive”.

Dr. Collins nodded, motioning for the team to prepare the transport. As they worked to secure you for transport, Ben finally turned his head, just slightly, toward the nurse holding the baby. His gaze flickered to the tiny figure, her small face scrunched in confusion as she let out a soft whimper. The sight made something twist in his chest—something raw and unfamiliar—but he quickly shoved it down.

“I’ll look at her when she’s ready to see her mom”, he said gruffly, turning his attention back to you. “Not before”.

The nurse nodded silently, stepping back again as the team began to wheel you out of the room. Ben followed without hesitation, his hand still gripping yours, his presence as unyielding as ever.

As they moved through the hallway, his voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for you. “You’re going to wake up, sweetheart. And when you do, we’ll figure the rest of this out. Together. But don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you fucking dare”.

His words were a promise, a command, and maybe even a prayer, though he’d never admit it. Ben didn’t know what came next, but he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting you go. Not now. Not ever.

Hours dragged by in agonizing silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of the monitors tracking your vitals. Ben sat slouched in the chair beside your bed, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand still wrapped tightly around yours. He hadn’t moved in hours, his green eyes fixed on you, unblinking. He looked like a soldier on a stakeout—tired, tense, but laser-focused. Not once had he checked his phone to text your parents or anyone else. None of them mattered right now. Only you.

Every so often, his grip on your hand would tighten as if daring you to let go, as if willing you to stay tethered to him. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, most of them sharp and bitter. He hated the helplessness, the fact that he couldn’t fight this battle for you. But more than anything, he hated the small, nagging voice at the back of his mind whispering that he might lose you.

When Dr. Collins came into the room for the sixth time, Ben straightened in his seat, his sharp gaze snapping to her like a hawk locking onto its prey. “What’s the update?”, he asked immediately, his voice gruff but steady.

Dr. Collins glanced at the monitors, her expression softening just a fraction. “She’s passed the most critical hours”, she said, her tone calm but encouraging. “Her vitals are stabilizing. The V has done its job—her broken bones are healing, and her internal injuries are no longer life-threatening”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his grip on your hand relaxing just slightly. “But?”,

Dr. Collins sighed, folding her arms as she leaned against the counter. “She’s still weak. Her body’s been through hell, and the pain meds are dosed pretty high. When she wakes up—and she will wake up—she’s going to be disoriented. Probably dizzy, confused, and definitely not herself for a while. But she’s made it this far, and that’s a good sign”.

Ben nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing by the smallest fraction, though the tension in his shoulders remained. “How long?”, he asked, his voice low. “Until she wakes up?”.

“That depends on her”, Dr. Collins replied. “It could be a few hours or a full day. Right now, her body just needs rest. And when she does wake up, she’ll need time to recover. Physically and emotionally”.

Ben huffed a quiet breath, shaking his head. “She doesn’t do ‘rest’ well”, he muttered, half to himself. “Stubborn as hell”.

Dr. Collins smiled faintly. “Then you’ll need to remind her it’s not a choice”.

He didn’t respond, his focus already back on you. Dr. Collins stayed for another moment, watching him silently before finally excusing herself. “Let me know the moment there’s any change”, she said, but she didn’t expect a response. She didn’t get one.

Ben didn’t move, didn’t look away from you as the hours continued to tick by. The soft, even beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the room. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. He looked rough—exhausted, even—but his gaze never wavered.

The soft creak of the door opening drew Ben’s attention, though his expression didn’t change. His sharp gaze flicked toward the nurse from earlier as she stepped in, her hesitance evident in every movement. She held your daughter carefully, the tiny bundle swaddled tightly and impossibly small. In her other hand, she carried a bottle of formula. The baby was sleeping soundly, her soft breathing barely audible over the hum of the machines monitoring you.

Ben straightened slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched the nurse approach. “What is it?”, he asked gruffly, his voice low and edged with impatience.

The nurse stopped a few feet away, her grip tightening protectively around the baby. “I—I thought…”, she began, her voice uncertain as she glanced between Ben and you. “It’s been a while. She needs to eat. I thought maybe… you’d want to—”.

“No”, Ben cut her off, his tone sharp and final. His gaze shifted back to you, his grip on your hand tightening.

The nurse hesitated, clearly uneasy as she shifted the baby in her arms. “She´s your daugther and she needs you right now. And… well, her mom would want her to be cared for”, she tried again, her tone softer, almost pleading.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his free hand flexing at his side as he stared down at you. The weight of the nurse’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. He didn’t look at her, didn’t look at the baby. He couldn’t. Every time he so much as thought about it, the gnawing guilt clawed at his chest like a live wire.

"She´s hungry", the nurse tried again, stepping closer.

Ben’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw working as he swallowed hard. His eyes flicked briefly to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms before snapping back to you. For a long moment, he didn’t move, the tension in his body palpable.

Finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose and stood, towering over the nurse as he extended his arms. “Fine”, he said curtly, his voice gruff.

The nurse quickly stepped forward, carefully placing the tiny, swaddled baby into Ben’s massive arms. For a moment, he sat there stiffly, glaring down at the little bundle like it was a ticking bomb. His arms didn’t move, his hands hovering awkwardly around her as if one wrong twitch might shatter her into pieces.

The baby scrunched up her face, letting out a tiny whimper as she squirmed in his hold, clearly uncomfortable. Ben’s brow furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “The fuck do I do now?”, he muttered, glaring at the nurse as though this was all her fault. “She doesn’t look like she wants some stupid milk”.

The nurse stifled a smile, stepping closer to adjust his hold. “You need to support her head more”, she said gently, guiding one of his hands to cradle the baby’s neck. “Like this. And hold her close. She needs to feel secure”.

Ben scowled but didn’t resist, shifting his grip reluctantly as the nurse adjusted him. The baby stopped squirming after a moment, her tiny body settling against his chest as she let out a soft sigh.

“Yeah, great”, Ben grumbled, glancing down at her. “She’s quiet now. But what about when she starts crying again? Or puking or whatever babies do?”.

The nurse handed him the bottle, her expression a mix of patience and amusement. “Right now, she just needs to eat. Hold the bottle like this”, she demonstrated, angling it toward the baby’s mouth. “She’ll know what to do”.

Ben hesitated, his lips pressing into a tight line as he stared at the bottle like it might explode. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he followed the nurse’s instructions, bringing the bottle to the baby’s mouth. To his surprise, she latched onto it immediately, her tiny lips working to drink the formula.

“Well, I’ll be fucking damned”, he muttered under his breath, his green eyes narrowing as he watched her. “Guess she does know what she’s doing”.

The nurse smiled. “She’s hungry. You’re doing fine”.

“Yeah, sure”, Ben muttered, his gaze flicking briefly to you before settling back on the baby. His expression was hard to read—equal parts frustration, guilt, and a strange, reluctant softness. “Not exactly what I signed up for, you know. This whole… baby-holding thing”.

The nurse nodded but didn’t comment, stepping back to give him space. Ben’s focus stayed on the baby, his brows furrowed as she continued to feed. She was so small, barely more than a handful in his massive arms, but the weight of her was immense. Every twitch, every tiny movement reminded him of why you were lying in that bed, pale and broken.

“You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”, he said quietly, his tone gruff but oddly gentle. “But I guess that makes sense. You’ve got her blood in you. Stubborn little thing”.

The baby’s tiny hand twitched, her fingers brushing against his chest. Ben froze for a moment, staring at her in disbelief before shaking his head. “Yeah, alright”, he muttered. “You’ve got a good grip. That’s a start”.

Your baby stirred in Ben’s arms, her tiny face scrunching slightly as her eyes fluttered open. They were wide, unfocused, and impossibly bright. Ben froze, staring down at her, his grip instinctively tightening to keep her steady. For a second, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but then it hit him—she already looked like you.

Sure, she was scrunched up, her face still raw and wrinkled from the early birth, but there was no denying it. The shape of her little nose, the delicate curve of her lips—it was you, in miniature. And those eyes, though too new to hold any recognition, had the same depth, the same spark that always seemed to cut right through him.

Something in Ben twisted, sharp and undeniable, as if someone had punched him square in the chest. His heart skipped, then pounded harder, faster, like his body was reacting before his brain could catch up. He didn’t know what the hell this feeling was, and he sure as hell didn’t like it. But it was there, clawing its way into him and taking hold.

“Well, shit”, he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a growl. His green eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time in hours, he wasn’t thinking about guilt or fear or what-ifs. He was just… staring. “You’ve got her eyes”, he said quietly, almost to himself. “That’s not fair. You’re already pulling fucking stunts”.

The baby blinked slowly, her tiny hand twitching against his chest, and Ben swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to do with this—this tiny, fragile thing that had flipped his world upside down in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t soft, wasn’t the guy who sat around cooing at babies or holding hands. And yet, here he was, cradling this tiny, stubborn miracle who looked so much like the woman he couldn’t live without.

His jaw tightened as he glanced at you, still lying pale and motionless in the hospital bed. “You’d better wake up soon”, he muttered, his voice rough. “Because I’m not doing this on my own. You hear me? She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger, and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing”.

The baby’s tiny lips parted in a soft sigh, her little chest rising and falling against his. Ben shook his head, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You’re a pain in the ass, just like your mom”, he murmured, though his voice had lost its usual edge. “But I guess that means you’ll turn out alright”.

The nurse, who had been standing silently near the door, cleared her throat gently, drawing Ben’s attention. “She’s responding really well to the feeding”, she said softly, smiling faintly. “You’re doing a great job”.

Ben snorted, his gaze flicking back to the baby. “Yeah, well, don’t start handing out fucking gold stars just yet”, he muttered, though there was no heat in his tone. “I’m just keeping her alive until her mom gets her shit together”.

The nurse stepped forward cautiously, her movements calm and measured, like she was approaching a wild animal that might lash out at any moment. “She’s finished the bottle”, she said gently, gesturing toward the baby. “You’re going to need to burp her now”.

Ben’s eyes flicked down to the tiny bundle in his arms, then back to the nurse. “Burp her?”, he repeated, his voice sharp with skepticism. “She’s not a fucking beer-drinking buddy. What am I supposed to do?”.

The nurse stifled a smile, clearly used to dealing with this kind of resistance. “It’s important”, she said patiently. “Babies need to burp after feeding, or they’ll get uncomfortable. Here, I’ll show you”.

Ben scowled but didn’t argue as the nurse stepped closer. “Alright”, she said, her tone still calm. “You’ll need to adjust your hold. Bring her up higher, like this”. She carefully guided his hands, moving the baby so that her tiny head rested against his broad shoulder. Ben stiffened at the adjustment, clearly unsure about the whole process.

The nurse continued, unfazed by his obvious discomfort. “Now, use your other hand to pat her back gently. Just a steady rhythm—not too hard, not too soft”.

Ben raised an eyebrow but followed her instructions, his massive hand moving to rest on the baby’s tiny back. He gave her a few awkward pats, the sound of his hand connecting with the soft blanket almost comically out of place in the tense silence of the room.

“Like that?”, he asked, his tone skeptical. “Doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything”.

“Keep going”, the nurse said with a small smile. “It takes a minute sometimes”.

Ben muttered something under his breath but continued, his large hand gently patting the baby’s back. She squirmed slightly against his shoulder, her tiny body shifting as she let out a soft hiccup. Ben froze, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at the nurse.

“That it?”, he asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of curiosity.

The nurse shook her head. “Almost. She’s getting there. Just a little more”.

Ben sighed and kept going, his movements becoming slightly less awkward as he found a rhythm. After a few more pats, the baby let out a tiny burp, followed by a soft cooing sound. Ben stopped immediately, his hand hovering over her back as he stared at her in disbelief.

“There”, the nurse said, her smile widening. “You did it”.

Ben huffed, his lips pressing into a tight line as he glanced down at the baby. “Yeah, great. Now what? She gonna spit up all over me or something?”.

“She might”, the nurse said with a chuckle. “But it looks like she’s pretty content now. You’re doing fine, Soldier Boy".

The nurse gently guided Ben as he settled the baby back into a more comfortable position in his arms, her tiny body cradled against his broad chest. “If you need anything, just ring”, the nurse said softly, her smile warm but cautious as she stepped back. “You’re doing better than most dads their first time. Trust me”.

Ben rolled his eyes, but his grip on the baby remained steady.

The nurse left quietly, the door clicking shut behind her. The room fell silent again, save for the steady hum of the monitors and the baby’s soft, rhythmic breathing. Ben stared down at her, his expression skeptical but not unkind. She was so damn small. He could practically hold her in one hand, and yet somehow, she’d managed to upend his entire life in just a matter of hours.

“Alright, kid”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “You’ve had your bottle, you’ve burped. What now? You gonna start crying, or are you gonna let me sit here in peace?”.

As if in response, the baby’s face scrunched up again, her tiny features twisting as she squirmed slightly in his arms. Ben raised an eyebrow, watching her warily. “What’s that look for?”, he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not gonna puke, are you? ‘Cause I’m not cleaning that shit up”.

But instead of crying or spitting up, the baby let out a soft, squeaky fart. Ben froze for a second, staring at her in disbelief, before a snort escaped him. He tried to stifle it, but it was no use. A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest, low and unexpected, as he shook his head.

“Well, that’s one way to make an impression”, he muttered, his lips twitching in a faint smirk. “Guess you’re not as fucking delicate as you look, huh?”.

The baby shifted again, her tiny fist brushing against his chest as she settled back into sleep. Ben stared at her for a long moment, his smirk fading into something quieter, almost contemplative. She looked so peaceful now, her little face soft and relaxed, completely unaware of the chaos she’d caused.

It was the faintest stir that pulled Ben’s attention away from the baby dozing in his arms. At first, he thought he was imagining it, his tired mind playing tricks on him after hours of waiting. But then it happened again—a subtle twitch of your fingers, a small shift of your head against the pillow.

Ben straightened instantly, his sharp green eyes locking onto you as his entire body tensed. “(Y/N)?”, he said, his voice low but urgent, cutting through the quiet hum of the room. “Come on, wake up”.

You stirred again, your eyelids fluttering weakly before they cracked open. The bright hospital lights above made you wince, and you let out a soft, groggy noise as you tried to make sense of where you were. Everything felt heavy, your body sluggish and numb from the medication coursing through your veins.

As Ben looked down at you, his sharp green eyes softened in a way that rarely happened. The weight of the past hours—no, the past months—seemed to crash over him all at once. You were awake. Alive. Against all odds, you’d made it. For a split second, a tear welled up in his eye and slid down his cheek before he quickly swiped it away with the back of his hand, muttering under his breath, “Damn room’s too dry”.

He shifted slightly, as his free one moved to the call button. “You hang tight”, he said gruffly, his voice carrying a faint tremor that betrayed the sheer relief coursing through him. “I’m getting Collins to check you over. Can’t have you going down again after all this”.

He pressed the button again and within moments, Dr. Collins appeared in the doorway, her expression shifting to one of relief the moment she saw you awake.

“Well, there you are”, she said warmly, stepping into the room with her clipboard in hand. “You’ve had quite the ordeal. How are you feeling?”.

You blinked up at her, your voice hoarse as you replied, “T… Ti.. Tired”.

Dr. Collins nodded, her gaze flicking to the monitors before she moved closer to the bed. “That’s normal. Your body’s been through a lot, and the pain meds are still in your system. Let’s take a closer look”.

As Dr. Collins began her examination, Ben still hovered near the bed.

“You’re stabilizing well”, Dr. Collins said after a few minutes, her tone encouraging. “Your vitals are strong, and the V medication did a remarkable job repairing the fractures. You’ll be weak for a while, but as long as you rest and take it slow, there’s no reason you won’t make a full recovery”.

Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw relaxing as the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. “So, she’s out of the woods?”, he asked, his tone clipped but tinged with something softer.

Dr. Collins nodded, glancing at him briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Yes, but she’s still healing. That means no overexerting yourself. And plenty of help from him”, she added, looking pointedly at Ben.

Ben snorted, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Yeah, don’t worry about that. She’s not lifting a damn finger till I say so”.

You let out a weak laugh, the sound hoarse but genuine as you looked up at him.

“You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack. Don’t think I’m letting you off easy”.

Dr. Collins chuckled softly, straightening as she finished her examination. “You’re in good hands”, she said warmly. “I’ll be back later to check in, but for now, just rest. You’ve earned it”.

As she left the room, Ben moved closer again. “You scared the shit out of me”, he muttered, his voice lower now, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.

You looked up at him, your eyes soft despite the exhaustion etched into your face. “I’m sorry”, you whispered. “I didn’t want to leave you. Either of you”.

Ben shook his head, his jaw tightening as he glanced away for a moment. “Yeah, well… you didn’t. That’s what matters”. He hesitated, then looked back at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen. “You’re tougher than anyone I’ve ever known, you know that?”.

A faint smile curved your lips as you gazed down at the baby in Ben´s arms.

"I wan´t to hold her".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Part 30

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #the boys fanart #his second exception

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