✨Fucking Brats - 1/3✨
Summary: You and Ben have two teenage daughters, and lately, they’ve been nothing short of awful. With Ben away on missions, you've been taking the heat. But when he finally steps back through that door and sees how they’ve been treating you? Hell breaks loose. Because no one—not even his own brats—messes with his girl.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language, ANGST
Word Count: 7305
A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙
Fourteen years of being a mother, fourteen years of giving everything—your time, your patience, your love. Fourteen years of putting them first, sacrificing everything for them. And yet, here you were, standing in the middle of the wreckage of what used to be your kitchen, your hands shaking, your breath uneven, and your heart pounding with something dangerously close to pure, undiluted rage.
The fight had started over something small—something so insignificant you couldn’t even remember what it was now. But, like always, it had escalated.
Ava and Liv, your beautiful, powerful, stubborn twin daughters, had once again turned your home into a battlefield.
Liv stood on one side, chest heaving, her eyes burning with frustration, while Ava stood on the other, her hands clenched into fists. The tension between them was suffocating. You could see the crackle of their powers vibrating in the air, warping the space between them.
“Enough”, you said, your voice firm but tired. But they ignored you. Of course, they did.
“You’re such a bitch, Liv!”, Ava spat, her powers flaring around her fingertips. “No wonder Dad favors me over you”.
Liv let out a bitter laugh, the kind that made your stomach twist. “Oh, please. You’re delusional. Dad doesn’t favor either of us—he barely even gives a shit! But sure, keep telling yourself that while you ride his coattails like a pathetic little sidekick”.
Your head throbbed. “Enough”, you said again, louder this time, stepping between them.
Liv scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Stay out of it, Mom”.
Your pulse pounded in your ears.
The sound of shattering glass rang through the kitchen as sharp fragments rained down beside you, some skidding across the floor, others embedding themselves into the walls. Your breath caught in your throat. Liv hadn’t even hesitated.
You turned your head slowly, staring at the splintered remains of the glass that had been inches from your face. If you had moved just a second slower, it would have cut you. Maybe even blinded you. And she didn’t care.
Rage and heartbreak coiled inside you like a living thing, suffocating, burning. “You—”. The words died on your tongue as Ava lunged at her sister again, fists crackling with power. Liv met her head-on. The force of their clash sent a shockwave through the room, knocking chairs over, rattling the cabinets, and making the lights flicker. The air between them warped from the sheer energy radiating off their bodies. They were really going at it now—no longer just screaming at each other, but attacking, their hits meant to hurt.
You staggered back, your heart slamming against your ribs. This wasn’t just sibling rivalry anymore. They were out for blood.
“STOP IT!”. Your voice broke as you stepped forward, but neither of them even glanced your way. They were lost in their rage, their need to dominate, to win.
Ava caught Liv with a blast of energy, sending her skidding across the floor, crashing into the island. The impact cracked the wood, but Liv was already back on her feet, her lip curled, a red streak across her cheek from the fall. “You wish you were better than me”, she sneered, and with a flick of her wrist, the entire fridge ripped from its place, hurtling toward Ava. Ava dodged at the last second, the massive appliance slamming into the wall instead, leaving a gaping hole where it had once been. You let out a strangled sound, hands flying to your mouth.
This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t your home anymore. It was a warzone.
“Enough!”. You screamed, desperation lacing your voice as you tried again, but your words meant nothing. You were nothing in this moment—just a human caught in the crossfire of two beings who didn’t seem to care anymore. Tears burned in your eyes. You had spent everything—your youth, your dreams, your sanity—raising them, loving them, protecting them. And this was what was left.
A sob caught in your throat. Ben wasn’t here. He was never here when things got bad.
Ava’s hand was wrapped around Liv’s throat as she slammed her down onto the cold, cracked tile. The impact sent a deep tremor through the floor, rattling what little was left of your already-destroyed kitchen.
For a moment, there was only silence—harsh breathing, the hum of their residual energy still crackling in the air. And then, Ava turned her head. Her furious, glowing eyes locked onto yours, but the second she registered the tears streaming down your face, the way your hands trembled at your sides, something in her expression shifted. The fight drained out of her, like she was only just realizing you’d been there the entire time.
Her fingers loosened around her sister’s throat. “Mom…”, she breathed, like she didn’t know what to say. Like she wasn’t sure how to fix what she’d already shattered.
But Liv wasn’t done.
With a sharp cough, she shoved Ava off her, rolling onto her side as she propped herself up on her elbow. A deep, ugly bruise was already forming along her collarbone, but instead of anger, all she had for you was disdain.
A smirk curled at the corner of her split lip, and she let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “God, you’re so fucking weak”, she spat, shaking her head. “It’s pathetic”.
The words hit you harder than any attack she could’ve thrown. Weak. Pathetic. From your own daughter’s mouth. You swallowed hard, every inch of your body shaking with the effort of holding yourself together. She wasn’t just saying it to hurt you—she meant it. She meant every single word. You could see it in her face, in the way she looked at you, like you were nothing. Something inside you shattered.
Fourteen years. Fourteen years of late nights, of scraped knees and lullabies, of holding them when they were sick, of staying up with them when they had nightmares. Of fighting for them. Of loving them with every part of your soul. And yet here you were. Nothing but a weak, pathetic human to them.
You pressed your lips together, forcing down the lump in your throat. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the kitchen. Not because you were backing down, but because, for the first time, you didn’t have anything left to give.
Your hands were shaking as you snatched your car keys off the counter, barely able to breathe through the overwhelming wave of exhaustion and heartbreak crushing your chest. You couldn’t do this anymore—not right now. Let them burn the house down for all you cared. Let them fight until there was nothing left. You just needed to go.
With your pulse pounding in your ears, you stormed through the front door and onto the porch, the cool evening air hitting your tear-streaked face like a slap. You didn’t even know where you were going—maybe you’d just drive until the exhaustion swallowed you whole.
But the second your foot hit the driveway, you stopped dead.
Ben stood there.
His broad frame was backlit by the headlights of an idling SUV, his uniform torn and caked in blood and dirt. His knuckles were still bruised, his jaw clenched, his hair a mess of sweat and filth. He looked like he’d just crawled his way out of hell.
He wasn’t supposed to be back for another week. And yet, here he was. And you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
His tired green eyes flicked over you, taking in your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling fingers clutching the car keys so tightly your knuckles were white. His gaze snapped up to the house behind you, where the faint sounds of destruction and arguing still echoed from inside.
And just like that, his expression darkened.
“The fuck is going on?”. His voice was low, gruff, edged with exhaustion but laced with something far more dangerous.
"Nothing", you mumbled, heading further towards the car.
Ben moved before you could, a firm, gloved hand wrapping around your wrist before you could make it to the car. His grip wasn’t tight—not enough to hurt—but enough to stop you dead in your tracks. “The fuck it’s nothing”, he muttered, voice rough, edged with something unreadable.
You swallowed hard, still facing away from him. You didn’t have it in you to fight him, not after everything. Not when you were already holding yourself together by a thread. “Ben”, you whispered, voice hoarse. “Please. Just let me go”.
His grip tightened just slightly, a breath passing through his nose, controlled, measured. “Not happening”.
You squeezed your eyes shut, another wave of exhaustion crashing over you. You didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not with him. But Ben had never been one to just let you go.
You felt it before you saw it. The heat of his body as he stepped closer, his presence grounding, suffocating in the way it always was. It wasn’t just his strength keeping you in place, it was him. He had always been the immovable force in your life, the one thing that had anchored you in ways you weren’t sure he even understood. Especially after the pregnancy, when you had almost died.
Carrying half-supe twins had taken everything out of you, and he had been there through all of it. Through the hospital visits, through the months of uncertainty, through the moment you nearly bled out on that table.
For a man who barely let himself care about anything, he had never quite recovered from the fear of losing you.
And now, standing here, with you trying to walk away from him? Not a fucking chance.
Ben exhaled sharply, his free hand coming up to brush against your shoulder, an almost hesitant touch. “Talk to me, baby”, he said, quieter this time. “What the hell happened?”.
Your throat tightened, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. You just stood there, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I can’t do this anymore”, you finally choked out. “They don’t listen to me. They don’t care. They don’t—”. Your voice broke, and you sucked in a sharp breath, willing yourself not to completely fall apart in the driveway.
Ben went rigid behind you. “What did they do?”, he asked, and his voice had changed. Dangerous. Low.
You shook your head, because you weren’t sure you could even say it out loud. But Ben wasn’t stupid. His hand slowly trailed down your arm, down to where your fingers were still trembling, and something in his expression darkened even more.
Then, without another word, he let go of you and turned on his heel, striding straight toward the house.
“Ben”, you called after him, alarm creeping into your voice. But he didn’t stop. Didn’t even hesitate.
You hurried after him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You knew what Ben was like when he was mad, when he was really mad. And right now, the storm raging off of him was something terrifying.
"Ben, wait—". Your voice was hoarse, but he didn’t stop.
The second he stepped into the kitchen, his whole body went stiff. You saw it happen. The way his fists clenched at his sides, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breathing slowed, controlled but lethal. And then, you saw his eyes. They flickered over the wreckage. Shattered glass, cracked countertops, the gaping hole where the fridge had once been. Over Ava and Liv, who were still breathing hard, still radiating energy, both of them bruised and scratched from their fight.
And when his gaze finally landed on you, on your tear-streaked face, your trembling frame, the way you were still struggling to breathe, his entire expression darkened into something lethal.
Neither of your daughters had noticed him yet, too caught up in their own battle. Liv was still smirking like she had won something, like she hadn’t just shattered every ounce of patience you had left. “You gonna cry again, Mom?”, she sneered. “Man, you’re pathetic”.
Before you could even react, before the words could even settle in your chest, Ben moved. He was on her in an instant. Liv barely had time to register the shift before his large hand was gripping the back of her neck, forcing her forward, slamming her against the already-damaged kitchen island. The wood cracked under the impact, a sharp gasp leaving her lips as he pinned her there. Ava immediately froze. You sucked in a breath, still sobbing, still terrified of how quickly this was escalating.
But Ben? Ben wasn’t even fucking done yet. His voice was low when he finally spoke, and it was calm. Too calm. “Say that again”.
Liv let out a short, breathless laugh, her cheek still pressed against the splintered countertop. “What—”.
He tightened his grip. She gasped again, fingers twitching against the wood. “Dad—”.
“You think you can talk to her like that?”, he murmured, still eerily calm. Too calm. “Think you can disrespect her? Make her cry?”. He leaned in just slightly, lowering his head beside hers, and his next words sent a shiver down your spine. “After everything she’s fucking done for you?”.
For the first time since this fight started, you saw it. Fear. Liv might have been half-supe, but she wasn’t Ben. And right now, Ben wasn’t the father who had held her as a baby, who had carried her on his shoulders as a child, who had let her get away with things he never should have. Right now, he was a soldier. And he was pissed.
Liv swallowed hard, struggling slightly under his grip, but Ben didn’t let her go. Instead, he turned his head slightly, flicking his gaze over to Ava, who stood frozen, wide-eyed, chest still heaving. “You too”, he muttered, his voice like steel. “You think this shit is okay? You think tearing each other apart, tearing this house apart, disrespecting your mother is okay?”.
Neither of them said a word and that only pissed him off more. “I asked you a fucking question!”. Ava flinched. Liv clenched her jaw, but she didn’t dare say anything this time.
Your breath was still shaky, your fingers gripping the doorway, unsure if you should interfere. But you knew Ben. You knew he would never really hurt them. And more than that—you knew they deserved this. They needed to understand.
After a long, heavy silence, Ben finally exhaled through his nose, slowly, controlled. Then, he released Liv, letting her stumble back slightly as he stood up to his full height. The room was suffocating with tension, and for a long moment, no one said anything. Then, Ben finally turned to you. His face softened, just slightly, as he took in your tear-streaked face again, the exhaustion still carved into every inch of you.
And when he spoke again, it wasn’t for them. It was for you. “Go upstairs, baby”. His voice was still rough, still edged with leftover anger, but it was softer now. Gentle. “I’ll handle this”.
Your chest tightened. You weren’t sure if you should stay, if you should make sure things didn’t get worse. But one look at his face, at the way his entire body radiated barely-contained fury, and you knew, he wasn’t asking. He was telling you.
So, with one last shaky breath, you nodded, wiped at your face, and turned toward the stairs. And as you walked away, the last thing you heard was Ben’s voice, darker than you’d ever heard it before. “You two have no fucking idea what you just did”.
You climbed the stairs, still shaking, still raw, but you didn’t make it far before Ben’s voice erupted behind you, low and dangerous at first, but quickly rising into a full-on roar.
“The fuck is wrong with you two?”.
You froze just at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing, listening.
“I leave for a few months, and you think you can act like this? Think you can fucking destroy this house, disrespect your mother, like you’re a couple of fucking animals?”.
Neither of them answered. Of course, they didn’t. But that only made it worse. Ben scoffed, pacing. You could hear his boots scuffing against the shattered glass, crunching debris underfoot. “Do you have any idea what she’s been through? What the fuck she sacrificed for you?”. His voice was like a growl now, cutting through the dead silence of the house like a blade. “Fourteen fucking years. Fourteen years of putting you first. Of giving up everything she ever fucking wanted to make sure you had a goddamn life. And this is how you repay her?”.
“It’s not our fault she’s—”. Liv didn’t even get the words out before something slammed. Not a hit. Not violence. Just the sharp, sudden crack of Ben’s fist colliding with the already-damaged countertop, making the entire room shake.
You winced. Oh, they fucked up.
“You finish that fucking sentence”, Ben growled, “and see what happens”.
Silence.
“I fucking dare you!”.
Neither of them moved, while you barely even breathed.
Then, after a long, heavy pause, Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, like he was forcing himself to regain control. When he spoke again, his voice was steadier, but no less dangerous. “You’re gonna fix this”, he ordered. “Now”.
Still, neither of them moved.
Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, you don’t wanna?”, he mocked. “You don’t feel like it?”.
More silence. Wrong answer.
“Clean it the fuck up!”, he roared. “Now!”.
Ava moved first. Slowly, hesitantly, she stepped toward the mess, toward the shattered glass, the broken wood, the overturned chairs. Liv hesitated a second longer, but when Ben took one slow step toward her, she flinched and quickly followed her sister’s lead. “Fix the fucking counter while you’re at it”, Ben snapped. “And the fridge. And anything else you two decided to rip apart like a couple of fucking animals”.
You heard them shift, heard them muttering under their breath as they reluctantly did what they were told. But it wasn’t enough for Ben. “You don’t mutter”, he growled. “You don’t fucking complain. You do it, and you do it right, because if I so much as see one goddamn scratch left behind when you’re done—”. He didn’t even finish the sentence. Didn’t have to.
Another silence.
Then, finally, a small, trembling “Yes, sir”, from Ava. Liv didn’t say anything at first, but when Ben turned his gaze toward her, sharp as a blade, she swallowed hard and muttered, “Yes, sir”.
You exhaled shakily from your place at the top of the stairs, pressing a hand to your chest, your heartbeat still unsteady. Ben wasn’t done with them yet. Not by a long shot. But for now, for the first time in months, you finally felt like someone was on your side.
Ben’s voice was still sharp, still cutting through the silence like a blade. “I don’t fucking care how you do it. I don’t care if you have to use your goddamn powers, glue it together, or call a goddamn contractor. This kitchen better look exactly the way it did before by tomorrow”.
Neither Ava nor Liv spoke. They just nodded, their movements tense, their energy subdued for the first time in months.
Ben scoffed, shaking his head. “None of you get to fucking sleep until it’s done”. His voice was lower now, gritted between his teeth. “You don’t get to wreck shit, disrespect your mother, and then go to bed like nothing happened”.
Ava swallowed hard, her head hanging slightly. Even Liv, who had spent the entire evening testing every last limit, finally had the sense to shut the fuck up. Ben muttered a few more curses under his breath, something about how they were out of their goddamn minds, before finally turning on his heel and walking out of the kitchen.
And then, his eyes landed on you. Still standing there, your arms wrapped around yourself, your face still wet with the evidence of the tears you had tried to hold back. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you.
Then, without hesitation, his large hands settled on your waist, pulling you toward him, and before you could process it, he was already walking, guiding you down the hallway, up the stairs, not even giving you the chance to resist. “Ben—”. You sniffed, your voice still wobbly. “I need to—”.
“You don’t need to do shit”, he muttered.
You didn’t argue. You didn’t have it in you to.
His grip was firm, steady, his calloused fingers pressing against your hip as he pushed open the bathroom door. Without missing a beat, he reached over, turning on the shower, the sound of rushing water filling the space. You barely had time to blink before he was already undoing his bloodied, dirt-covered uniform, his fingers moving fast, practiced. And then his eyes were on you again. Unyielding. Soft, but still burning with something you couldn’t name.
“C’mere”, he murmured, his voice quieter now. He didn’t give you the chance to hesitate. Didn’t let you overthink. His fingers were already working at your clothes, peeling the day off of you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between you. Until all that was left was warmth, his arms, the steam curling around you both.
He didn’t stop moving until the water was cascading over both of you, until his hands were running slow, careful circles along your back, down your spine, grounding you. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your forehead against his chest, your body finally letting go of all the tension you had been holding in.
Ben exhaled sharply, his chin resting against the top of your head. “I got you”, he muttered, his voice lower, rougher. He squeezed your waist just slightly, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. “I got you, baby”.
The second Ben pulled you closer, the warmth of his body soaking into yours, something inside you snapped. You had held it together for so long… too long. But now, standing here, in his arms, with the water running down your back and his firm grip steadying you, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. A broken sob tore out of your throat, and you collapsed against him. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders, your face burying itself into his chest as the weight of the last two and a half months finally crushed you all at once.
Ben stiffened slightly at first, but only for a second. Then, his grip tightened, his arms wrapping fully around you, holding you so damn tight it was like he was trying to pull every ounce of pain straight out of your body. "Shit", he muttered, voice gruff, but gentle. One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers threading through your wet hair as his lips pressed a slow, grounding kiss against your temple. “I’m here, baby”.
You shook your head, the tears coming harder now, your entire body trembling against him. "I—I can't—".
"Yeah, you can". His voice was steady, like a rock against the storm raging inside you. "You already have".
You clenched your eyes shut. He didn't understand. Not yet.
Your hormones were everywhere, your body betraying you, the stress of the past few weeks mixing with the overwhelming knowledge that you were pregnant again.
Two weeks ago, you had found out, alone in that same bathroom, staring at a stupid little plastic stick while your daughters tore through the house downstairs. Two weeks of carrying that secret, of trying to navigate every emotion that came with it, of trying to figure out how you would even tell him.
And now, with his arms around you, his voice in your ear, his body grounding you after so long apart, you couldn’t stop crying.
Ben let out a sharp breath, his hand trailing down your back, pressing firmly between your shoulder blades, his other arm still wound securely around your waist. "You're okay", he muttered, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You're okay, baby, I got you".
You clutched at him even tighter. His muscles tensed slightly under your grip, but he didn't move, didn’t let go, just let you cry. Let you fall apart. His grip was firm, steady, unshakable, just like he always was.
It was a long while before your sobs started to quiet, before your breathing evened out just enough for you to lift your head, your tear-streaked face pressed against his chest.
Ben sighed, running a rough hand over his face, shaking his head like he was still trying to process everything. “Those little shits”, he muttered, his voice gruff. “I swear, grounded till they’re eighteen”.
You let out a breathy, wet laugh, barely able to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. But he wasn’t kidding, he looked dead serious. Ben scoffed, shaking his head again, muttering more to himself now than to you. “No, fuck that. Grounded till they’re twenty-one. No powers. No leaving the house. They can sit in their goddamn rooms and think about what they’ve done”.
Your lips twitched, exhaustion still weighing down on you, but for the first time in hours, you actually smiled.
Ben trying to be a dad and not a soldier was always ridiculous. He was terrible at it. “You can’t ground them till they’re twenty-one”, you murmured, voice hoarse from all the crying.
“The fuck I can’t”, he shot back immediately.
You let out another weak, breathy laugh, leaning your forehead against his chest. “That’s not how parenting works”.
Ben huffed, still glaring like he was ready to walk downstairs and yell at them all over again. “The fuck do I know about parenting?”. He gestured vaguely toward the door. “They’re terrorists”.
You let out a real laugh at that, shaking your head, wiping at your face as your body finally started to calm down.
Ben exhaled, watching you for a long moment, eyes scanning over your face, lingering on the fresh tear tracks still marking your skin. Then, finally, he softened. One of his hands came up, tilting your chin so you’d look at him, his thumb brushing slow, steady circles against your cheek. “I mean it”, he murmured, his voice lower now, rough but real. “They don’t get to treat you like that”.
You swallowed hard, your throat still raw.
“They don’t get to disrespect you like that”, he continued, voice firm. “Not while I’m here. Not while I’m alive”.
Your chest tightened, your fingers curling against his damp skin. "They don’t take me seriously since I’m just human. No powers. No supe" You had never said it out loud before, but you had felt it.
For years, you had felt it creeping in, that slow, painful realization that your daughters were outgrowing not just their childhoods, but you. That as their powers grew stronger, your place in their world became smaller, less significant. You had given up everything for them, your youth, your dreams, your future. You had poured everything into being a mother, into loving them. And for what? For them to look down on you?
You sniffed, your fingers clenching slightly against Ben’s chest, voice small, breaking. "I miss the days when they were little".
Ben exhaled sharply, his hand still cradling your face, his thumb brushing away the new tears slipping down your cheeks.
"They were so excited to see me back then", you whispered, voice wobbly. "So happy when I picked them up after daycare at the Tower. They’d come running, their little arms up, like I was the most important person in the world". Your throat tightened. "They loved me back then", you choked out, your voice cracking on the last word.
Ben stilled. His jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break. And then, before you could spiral further, before the weight of it all crushed you completely, Ben moved. He cupped your face fully in both of his large, calloused hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes, those sharp, deep green eyes, locked onto yours, holding you there. "You listen to me", he said, voice rough, steady. "They still love you".
You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek. "No, they—".
"Yes, they fucking do". His grip tightened just slightly, his forehead coming to rest against yours, grounding you, keeping you from slipping away into that dark place. "They’re little shits right now, yeah. And they don’t deserve you. But they love you".
Your breath was shaky, your heart pounding against your ribs.
"They just don’t fucking get it yet", Ben muttered, voice lower now, almost more to himself than you. "They don’t understand what you’ve done for them. What you’ve given up. But one day? One day they will".
You swallowed hard, your lips trembling, your vision still blurry from fresh tears.
"And by then", Ben murmured, his voice gritted, his fingers brushing over your cheek, "they’re gonna fucking regret ever making you feel like this".
Your breath hitched, and another tear slipped free. Ben caught it with his thumb, his lips brushing against your temple, against your wet skin.
"You’re the best fucking mom in the world", he muttered, his voice unshakable. "And they don’t deserve you".
You let out a broken little breath, your fingers gripping at his arms, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you standing.
Ben helped you out of the shower, his hands steady, warm, gentle in a way that only you ever got to see. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your shoulders before reaching for the robe hanging on the hook. Without a word, he slipped it over you, his fingers brushing against your arms as he tied the fabric snugly around your waist.
His own towel hung low on his hips as he led you toward the bedroom, his hand resting firm on the small of your back. You were exhausted, your body heavy, your emotions drained, but at least now, wrapped in the warmth of Ben’s presence, you didn’t feel like you were falling apart.
As you walked down the hallway, voices from downstairs caught both your attention. Liv and Ava. Still snapping at each other, their hushed, angry tones barely carrying past the kitchen, but not quiet enough to escape Ben’s ears. Not quiet enough to escape yours, either.
"Just shut up and do it", Ava muttered, her voice sharp.
"You shut up", Liv hissed back. "This was your fucking fault!".
"My fault?", Ava scoffed, and you could practically hear the eye roll in her voice. "You threw the first fucking punch!".
"And you threw me through the goddamn counter!".
"Well, maybe if you weren’t such a—".
The moment Ben stopped walking, you knew shit was about to go down. His body tensed beside you, his jaw tightening, his expression darkening all over again. They were trying to be quiet. Trying to keep it low enough so that he wouldn’t hear. But of course, he did. Of course, you did too.
Ben exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "These fucking brats", he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
You let out a small, tired sigh. "They’re not gonna stop, are they?".
Ben scoffed, rolling his shoulders like he was physically forcing himself to stay upstairs instead of marching down there and ripping them a new one. "Not until one of ‘em is in a goddamn coma".
You swallowed, rubbing your temple, the weight of everything settling in your chest again.And Ben caught it immediately. His frustration didn’t leave, but he shifted, just slightly, his hand coming back to rest on your hip, grounding you.
"You wanna go down there?", he asked, voice lower now, steadier. "Or you want me to?".
You hesitated. For weeks, you had been the only one handling this. The only one trying to parent them, to keep them from killing each other, to keep them from destroying everything around them. For weeks, you had been at your wits’ end. And now, Ben was finally here. Finally handling it with you.
You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temple again. "You", you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "You handle it".
Ben didn’t hesitate. "Yeah", he muttered, his grip on your waist tightening for a brief second before he pulled away. "That’s what I thought".
Ben led you into the bedroom first, his touch still firm, still grounding. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, slipping them on before running a rough hand through his damp hair. His eyes flickered back to you once, scanning over your still-exhausted face, the weight of everything still sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Lay down”, he muttered, voice softer now.
You hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the robe, but before you could argue, he was already shaking his head. “Not asking”, he said, giving you a pointed look. “Lay down. Get some rest. I’ll deal with them”.
You exhaled slowly, finally relenting as you sank onto the bed, letting the exhaustion pull at your limbs. Ben hesitated for a moment, watching you as if to make sure you were really going to listen before he turned and made his way toward the door. And then, with one last roll of his shoulders, he stormed downstairs.
The second his footsteps hit the floor, the arguing stopped. Liv and Ava froze. Both of them stood in the middle of the half-cleaned kitchen, still covered in leftover destruction, their bodies stiffening the moment they realized he was there. Ben’s gaze was sharp, scanning the mess they still hadn’t properly dealt with, then landing on the two of them, standing there like a couple of guilty little criminals.
Liv was the first to break, grimacing dramatically as she threw a hand over her face, turning away from him.“Ew, Dad! Pull on a shirt!”. Ava, standing beside her, made a similar sound of disgust, covering her own eyes like she was witnessing something horrific.
Ben stopped in his tracks, looking down at himself, at the way his bare chest was still on full display, before letting out an incredulous laugh. “You two little assholes have the nerve to destroy my kitchen, act like a couple of feral fucking animals, and this—”. He gestured vaguely to himself. “This is where you draw the goddamn line?”.
Liv groaned. “It’s just wrong”, she muttered, still shielding her eyes. Ava nodded in agreement. “Seriously. There are boundaries, Dad".
Ben let out a sharp, humorless scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think this is bad?”, he asked. “Try seeing your mother standing in the driveway ready to fucking leave because of the two of you”. That shut them up.
Liv’s fingers twitched slightly against her face, while Ava shifted on her feet, her shoulders stiffening just a bit more.
Ben’s smirk dropped immediately. “Yeah”, he said, voice dropping into something low. “Not so fucking funny now, huh?”.
Neither of them spoke.
Ben took another step forward, his presence heavy, the sheer disappointment rolling off of him in waves. “Sit”, he ordered.
Neither of them moved.
“Now!”.
Liv dropped into the nearest chair first. Ava followed a second later, both of them stiff, tense, like they knew this was about to be bad.
Ben inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, his fingers pressing into his temples like he was trying to physically keep himself from throwing them both out of a window. Then, finally, he spoke. “Let me tell you something about your mother”, he muttered, voice like steel. “That woman is the best goddamn thing that ever happened to you. You know how I know that?”.
Neither of them answered. But Ben didn’t give a shit.
“Because you wouldn’t even fucking exist without her”.
Ava shifted uncomfortably.
Ben scoffed. “Oh, what? You don’t like hearing it? You don’t like knowing that she almost died to bring you into this world? That she put her whole goddamn life on hold to raise you? That she’s spent fourteen fucking years doing nothing but giving a shit about you two?”.
Liv swallowed hard.
Ben leaned forward slightly, his hands braced against the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes burning straight through them. “And this—”. He gestured to the destruction around them. “This is how you repay her?”.
Neither of them spoke.
Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he ran a hand down his face, barely containing the frustration burning beneath his skin. His voice came out low, lethal. “I didn’t raise you like that!”.
Liv scoffed under her breath. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but Ben caught it. And then she muttered, “You barely raised us at all”.
Silence. The kind of silence that made the air in the room heavy, suffocating.
Ava’s eyes widened slightly, her body stiffening. Even Liv, who had never backed down from a fight, looked like she was regretting saying it the second the words left her mouth.
Ben slowly turned his head, his expression blank, unreadable, but his eyes? His eyes were sharp, cutting straight through her like a blade. “What the fuck did you just say?”. His voice wasn’t raised, wasn’t angry, it was calm. Too calm.
Liv swallowed but lifted her chin anyway, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “You’re never here”, she muttered, her voice quieter now, but still defiant. “You come and go whenever the fuck you want. Mom’s the one who’s always been here”.
Ben inhaled deeply through his nose, rolling his tongue over his teeth, his fingers flexing against the back of the chair like he was physically stopping himself from putting a hole through the wall. “Yeah?”, he muttered, voice dangerously low. “And why the fuck do you think that is?”.
Liv didn’t answer.
“You think I wanna be gone?”. His voice sharpened, cutting through the thick silence like a knife. “You think I choose to be halfway across the goddamn world instead of here?”.
Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair, his patience hanging by a goddamn thread. “You think I wanna spend my fucking life hunting down out-of-control supes?”, he snapped. “Supes who think they’re better than everyone? Who think the rules don’t fucking apply to them?”. His eyes burned into hers. “Supes like you?”.
Liv flinched. Ava inhaled sharply beside her but stayed silent.
Ben scoffed again, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to physically shake off the anger rolling through him. “You wanna know why I’m not around?”, he muttered. “Because every goddamn day, I’m cleaning up the messes people like you make”.
Liv’s hands clenched into fists. Ben caught it. “Go ahead”, he said, tilting his head slightly. “Clench your fucking fists. Get mad. But you know what? That anger? That arrogance?”. His voice darkened. “That’s the same shit I see in every single supe I have to put down”.
The room was thick with tension. Liv’s face hardened, her jaw clenching so tight it looked painful.
“You think you’re so powerful”, Ben muttered, shaking his head, “so above everything, but let me tell you something—”. His voice was low, steady, like a goddamn threat. “You’re not fucking invincible, kid".
Ava swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between Liv and Ben, caught between wanting to say something and knowing better. Liv’s nostrils flared. “So what? You’re saying you’d kill us?”.
Ben felt the words like a punch to the gut. His jaw twitched, his breath coming in heavier as he really looked at Liv, looked at the way she sat in front of him, shoulders squared, fists clenched, actually believing he would ever hurt her. His own fucking daughter. The little girl who used to sit on his shoulders, who used to grip his fingers so tight with her tiny hands, who used to curl up in his arms when she had nightmares.
And now she was sitting there, fists raised, thinking, even for a second, that he could ever kill her.
His heart fucking broke. His expression didn’t soften, but something behind his eyes shifted. “Jesus”, he muttered, exhaling roughly, shaking his head. “You think I would ever hurt you?”.
Liv didn’t answer.
Ben scoffed, rubbing a hand down his face, suddenly feeling a whole different kind of exhaustion settle over him. “I sure as hell don’t kill my own kids”, he muttered, his voice lower now, not as sharp.
Ava swallowed beside her, her gaze flickering between them, and Liv, despite the stubborn set of her jaw, looked like she was faltering. But Ben wasn’t done. “You and your sister, you’re half me”, he muttered, voice rough. “You got my blood in your veins, my fucking strength, my temper”. He exhaled sharply. “But you also got your mother’s heart. And that’s the only reason I haven’t put my foot so far up your ass you’d be coughing up my fucking boot”.
Ava let out a small, breathy sound that almost sounded like a laugh, but she quickly smothered it. Liv’s hands slowly unfurled, her expression shifting from anger to something else. Something almost like regret.
Ben shook his head again, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’d kill you?”, he muttered. “Kid, I’d burn the fucking world to keep you safe”.
Liv sucked in a sharp breath. Ava glanced away, like she suddenly felt bad for even being here to witness this.
Ben inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, shaking his head one last time before straightening up. “Fix the goddamn kitchen”, he muttered, his voice rough, but no longer angry. Just tired. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving them both sitting in thick, suffocating silence.
The second he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes landed on you. Still curled up on the bed, watching him, waiting for him. And just like that, all the exhaustion, all the frustration, all the fucking heartbreak melted into something else. Something softer.
Without hesitation, Ben walked over, pulled back the blankets, and climbed into bed beside you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You okay?”, you whispered, your voice still hoarse.
Ben exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around you. “Yeah”, he muttered. “I just needed to remind ‘em”.
“Of what?”.
He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, his voice rough but honest when he said. “That they’re still my little girls”.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 2
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