Summary: As Sidney’s daughter, you’re used to playing host and showing newbies around, so when you meet Ben you take him under your wing.
Note: Different Crosby!Reader than the Macklin one lol. Ik I had the poll and everything but then this request came in and it was so cute I wanted to do it
The first Penguins team event you ever went to, you were small enough to fit in the crook of Sidney Crosby’s arm. There are pictures somewhere, your tiny fist grabbing his tie, the expression on his face is a mixture of proud and terrified. He was twenty-something and already carrying the weight of a franchise, trying to balance that and being a dad.
Since then you’ve been to every charity gala, every team dinner and family skate. Every draft party where the room filled with loud teammates and flowing champagne. You learned early on how to properly shake hands, how to smile for pictures without looking frozen or crazy. And how to rescue a rookie trapped in a conversation with a sponsor who won’t stop talking about golf.
By eighteen, this environment feels like yours just as much as it is your dads. So when you step into the ballroom for tonight’s charity event, in heels instead of light-up Sketchers, you feel like you belong. Because you do.
You move easily alongside your dad in a dress you picked out weeks ago, your dad pretended that he didn’t care what you wore but he vetoed the red dress you had originally decided on.
“Remember to stay out of trouble.” He murmurs beside you, adjusting the sleeves of his suit jacket.
“You say that every year.” You remind him.
“And every year you get smarter.”
“That’s literally how aging works.” You quip back, grinning.
Your dad laughs quietly as his eyes scan the room.
“Oh, over here.There’s someone I want you to meet.” He says, eyes locking on someone across the room.
“Is this another ‘he just got here so play nice’ situation?”
Sidney gives you a look, the one that says yes and also please. Having a single dad in the NHL means you’ve always been part daughter and part host, so you know how to make people feel welcome.
You finally notice who your dad is looking at. A new rookie, standing near the wall, awkward like he’s waiting for someone to tell him where to go. He’s nodding absentmindedly at a man in a suit, who seems to be talking his ear off.
“That’s Ben Kindel. He’s a good kid.” Your dad tells you.
“That translates to ‘be nice’.”
“It translates to ‘he’s new’.” Sidney corrects.
You notice his emphasis on that.
You look back at Ben and catch him staring, eyes widening at the man next to you. He straightens up as the two of you approach.
“Ben, this is my daughter.” Your dad introduces.
You extend your hand to Ben as you smile. He shakes it.
“Uh, yeah. Hi. I’ve heard about you.” Ben says, a little rambly, but you don’t mind.
“Only good things, I hope.” You say, laughing.
His face heats up slightly. “Yeah, of course. Mostly about how you’ve been running these things since you were five.”
“Six.” You jokingly correct, and Ben laughs slightly.
Your dad is dragged away again, of course. He’s been being pulled every which way since you got here. But now it’s just you and the rookie, standing on the far side of the room. You take a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s go get a drink.” You say, looping your arm through his and pulling him towards the bar.
“Oh…I can’t, I’m eighteen.” He starts to say, but you cut him off.
“No, me too. But we can get something else. Like sparkling soda or a Shirley Temple or something.” You explain. “You gotta do something or else we’ll just stand awkwardly, y’know?”
He nods as you order drinks. You stand off to the side taking small sips as the two of you survey the room.
“It feels like everyone is watching me.” He admits to you.
“Oh, they are.”
Ben’s eyes go wide.
“But, like, not in a bad way.” You add quickly. “You’re just new, y’know. They’re curious.”
“And you’re not new.” He states.
“Definitely not, I’ve been coming to these things forever. I learned how to kiss ass before I could walk.” You joke.
And Ben laughs, you can tell he’s finally loosening up, finally relaxing a bit. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again, sipping your drinks, staring around the room.
“So,” Ben starts, turning back towards you, setting his drink back on the bar. “Any embarrassing stories about your dad you want to share?”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “Bold move. Looking for dirt on the captain already?”
He smiles at that, the grin lighting up his face. “I’m just trying to survive out here.”
“You think blackmail is gonna help you survive?”
“Information is power.”
“That’s a good fucking quote, Ben Kindel.” You laugh.
And he laughs too. And so you tell him about your dad. About the time he tried to make pancakes for dinner and set off all the smoke detectors in the house. About how he tries to pretend he’s not competitive at board games, but he definitely is. And the time he tried to cut his own hair before playoffs and was stuck with an uneven cut for weeks. And Ben laughs at each one.
“Okay, now you owe me one.” You say to Ben.
And you can tell he’s thinking about it because his face is getting redder.
“Okay, my most embarrassing story is from picture day. We were all dressed up in vests and we looked like some barbershop quartet but I’m just happy to be there. But then I notice everyone is looking at me and laughing. And it took me way too long to realize that it was because my tie was on the outside of my vest.” He tells you, and now you’re laughing and he looks like he’s still experiencing that moment with how pained his face looks.
“Oh that’s awful.” You breathe out between giggles.
His face morphs from embarrassment to laughing too.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad. You’re dad thought they had told me to do that.”
“Brutal.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Ben smiles, nodding at that. As the two of you sit there, sipping your drinks in silence, the room keeps moving along. Some players glance your way and you smile back, others give knowing smirks at Ben. He sees that, and uncomfortably shifts on his feet, face heating up slightly.
“You don’t get nervous about all this?” He asks you, quiet.
You glance across the room to where your dad is standing. He’s mid conversation, good posture and pleasant smile like he always talks about.
“I used to.” You admit to Ben. “When I was little I thought that if I ever messed up it would reflect on him. One time in school, I got a C on a test, and I was so nervous I threw up and they had to send me home. But he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t even a little upset. He just helped me study for the next one.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Now I know he just wants me to be happy.”
“Wow… honestly you’re not what I was expecting.”
“Am I disappointing you?” You joke.
Ben shakes his head quickly.
“No, I just thought you’d be more… I don’t know. Famous, kind of. Like proper, like you grew up here and you’re comfortable here, but you don’t act like you’re better than anyone.”
“I know I’m not. We’re the same, if anything you’re better than me. You actually play hockey.” You say, grinning.
Ben smiles again, when you notice a photographer out of the corner of your eye, his camera raised. Ben sees it too and he tenses up. You instinctively angle yourself, subtly posing. You tap Ben’s wrist lightly.
“Hey. Just pretend you’re talking to me.” You say quietly, just for him to hear.
“We are talking.” He points out, obviously.
“Exactly.”
And the flash goes off. When it’s finally over Ben lets out a deep breath.
“You’re good at this stuff.”
“I’ve had eighteen years of practice.”
There’s a pause, and you’re at that point in the conversation where it could end naturally and you two could go your separate ways, or you could stay here, move forward with whatever this is.
Ben decides to stay.
“So what happens now? Do I get a full orientation from you? Penguins survival guide?” He asks.
You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with a finger. “Let’s see…rule number one: never challenge my dad to a ping pong game. You will lose and he will gloat.”
“Understood.”
“Rule number two: if Geno or the other older guys start chirping you, just chirp back. They’ll respect it.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“And three: stop acting like you don’t belong.”
Ben goes quiet, just holding your gaze. He straightens up slightly.
“What if I don’t though?”
“Then fake it ‘til you make it. But you do. You earned your spot. They all know that.” You say.
He glances around the room at the other teammates, and your dad catches his eye, watching carefully.
“They’re gonna chirp me about this.” Ben says, and it’s not a question.
“Probably. But if you make it through this you’re basically in.”
“In? With Sidney?”
“And me.” You say.
For a second Ben looks surprised, then he starts grinning slightly, glancing down at the floor.
“I guess I better not mess this up.”
And when you look at him, it feels like you’re not just talking to someone as “Sidney Crosby’s daughter”, it’s really you. And he’s really seeing you. And you think maybe this is the beginning of something that’s just yours.
So when Ben’s hand brushes yours accidentally (not), you don't pull away.
In which you try to face your feelings for your best friend despite knowing he doesn’t reciprocate them
wc: 1,843
author’s note: ughh this is such a stupid cliché trope but i love it anyways + you guys voted for this one 🥹🥹
You’ve always known that you’d never be able to get over Ben.
It’s not the first time you’ve cried about hopelessly being in love with him, and you know it wouldn’t be the last, yet there was still something in you that hoped he’d notice how much you longed for him.
You’ve always been willing to wait, wait as long as needed just in case he finally notices how mad you are for him.
And still, he never does.
He was currently lying on a beach chair next to you on the back porch of your house, trying to dry off a little before going back in your pool later.
You, on the other hand, were scrolling on your phone, trying not to get too distracted by Ben’s abs, which were being hit perfectly by the sun.
At one point, once one of you had gotten tired of the silence, your conversation shifted to the topic of dating and partners.
“I’m actually shocked you don’t have a girlfriend, everyone seems to love you.” You said, wrapping your arms around your knees as you talked to him, subtly looking him up and down.
He shrugged before pushing his sunglasses back up. “I dunno, I’ve never really found anyone.” He paused before being sparked to continue. “I do have my eyes set on someone, I don’t think she likes me though, it’s hard to tell.”
“I’m sure she does, it’s pretty hard not to like you.” You chuckled, trying not to let your voice falter as you listened to him talk about some other girl that wasn’t you.
“I don’t know, maybe.” He sighed as he turned his head before standing up and walking to the edge of the pool. “You gettin’ back in?”
“Maybe in a little bit.” You smiled at him as you sat up in your chair. “I promise.”
“You better keep that promise.” He winked which instantly brought a blush to your cheeks.
“I will, you know I do. But you have to make a promise too.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“If you start dating that girl you like, you have to promise that you won’t stop talking to me. I don’t want to lose my best friend.”
You swear you could’ve seen a slight tint come to his cheeks, but you convinced yourself it was just from the heat.
“I promise.” He said with a grin before stepping down into the pool.
You watched him closely, unable to take your eyes off of him, and unable to take your mind off of the fact that he’s clearly in love with someone else.
Later, a while after he had left, you were in your bedroom sitting cross-legged on the ground while your best friend, Lila, was sprawled out on your bed, a random show playing in the background.
“Ugh, but I can’t just hide from him, Lila! If I randomly just ghost him he’ll start bugging me constantly, but on the other hand, if I do ghost him, I can just push everything I’ve ever thought about him away into the back of my mind.”
“Or you could just convince yourself you don’t like him and stay friends. Personally, I don’t want to see you ruin your relationship with the person you’re closest with, I mean, besides, me of course.”
You groaned, flipping over onto your stomach dramatically as you face-planted.
“Look, I don’t know what answer you want me to give you, babe, but you have two options. You can either be a fool, and try to forget your feelings for him, or you can hold on to hope and try to get him to fall for you.”
“I mean besides those choices, there really isn’t anything else for me to do, is there?” You said as you looked up at Lila.
“Not really. Unless, of course, unless you try the secret third option.”
“Yeah, and what could that possibly be?”
“You tell him just how much you like him so that he forgets about that new girl and decides to date you instead.” She stated, looking at you with a smug grin as she rested her head in her hands, acting like she had just suggested the easiest thing in the world.
You rolled your eyes as you pulled yourself up onto your bed to lay next to her. “Yeah, like I would ever do that.”
“I think you can if you stop overthinking it so damn much!” She giggled as she poked at your side, causing you to start laughing too.
“You know that’s not even close to possible.” You sighed, out of breath from laughing.
“Yeah, whatever.” She said, flipping onto her back so that the both of you were staring at the ceiling together. Then, something clicked for her. “Hey, wait, isn’t your dad throwing a party next week to celebrate the end of playoffs?”
“Yeah, what about it though?”
“Ben’s coming over! You have a chance to talk to him. Even though I know you really don’t want to, I think it’s the best chance you have, plus if it doesn’t work out, he still has to act like nothing happened because he won’t want to seem weak in front of the Sidney Crosby and his daughter.”
You thought about it for a moment before finally accepting that Lila wasn’t going to change her mind about you trying to do this, so you figured you would just lie. “Fine, maybe I’ll try. Maybe.”
You didn’t even make a slight effort to do that. In fact, you actually made things worse before you even had the chance to decide if you were going to tell him or not.
In the next week before the party, you had started to distance yourself with him, not inviting him over, not hanging out, not picking up an extra coffee for him.
Your dad was a little confused, he didn’t know what happened to cause you to stop being so attached to Ben like you always were.
You played it off, saying that he was just super busy lately, but you were really doing this because you didn’t want to interfere with the relationship that was blossoming with him and that girl.
You were sitting on the couch when Ben had arrived, trying not to bring too much attention to yourself as you watched him wander around.
You thought you’d make it all night without having to talk to him, but he changed that.
You were sitting on the back porch by yourself, listening to the music from inside seep through the screen door as you watched the gray clouds that were looming over the sky, preparing for rain.
“Pittsburgh weather, am I right?” You heard Ben step behind you, sliding the door shut.
“Isn’t this your first year living here?”
“Yeah, but I think that’s enough to realise how bipolar it is. I mean, it was crazy sunny an hour ago and now it’s gonna storm.”
“That’s fair.” You chuckled, though you tried to hold it back.
You looked up at him as he sat next to you, placing down two cokes in the empty space between you both.
He looked up at the sky for a second before turning to look at you, whispering. “Did I do something to get you to ignore me?”
“What’re you talking about?” You said as your voice shook slightly.
“After I left, when we hung out in your pool last week, you haven’t been talking to me very much. Dry texts, cancelling plans, I just want to know why you’ve been like this. I want to know if I did something to cause this.”
Your mouth formed a line, your gaze reaching the ground so that you didn’t have to make eye contact with Ben.
“I didn’t want to complicate your relationship with that girl you like, or liked. I’m not sure if you’re still talking to her or not.”
“Well, I didn’t talk to her much last week, but I am talking to her again now.”
“See, distancing myself helped you because you’re talking to her again. You should be thanking me, Ben.”
“No, you’re not getting what I’m trying to say.”
“I don’t need to understand it though. You just need to know that I actually helped you and now you and that girl can–”
Ben cut you off, grabbing your face and crashing his lips against yours just as thunder crashed down in the sky.
He pulled apart from you slowly so that you could process what had happened.
“Why would you do that?” You exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing together as you watched the serious expression on his face.
“Because I need you to understand that you’re the girl I was talking to. You distanced yourself so I said that I wasn’t talking to her very much until now because tonight was the first time in a week that I’ve been able to have a conversation with you.”
He watched you intently as the realization slowly set in for you.
“I was the girl all along?”
He nodded, smiling at you. “Yeah, it’s you.”
Your eyebrows had shot up in surprise, and happiness at the same time.
“My feelings weren’t one-sided all this time?” You said, a huge grin drawn on your lips.
“No, not at all. I’ve liked you ever since your dad had first introduced me to you, though I didn’t think you would ever see me as more than a friend, but I still decided that I would try to make myself noticeable.”
“Well, I’m glad you did because I don’t think I would’ve even tried. I always thought my crush on you was hopeless, but I couldn’t get myself to stop liking you.” You said.
Neither of you realised that as you were talking about your feelings, the space between you shrank. Your hand was suddenly stacked underneath his, your face closer to his than you had previously thought.
And without thinking you two had pushed your faces together again, his hands locked onto your waist as you held onto his face gently.
The rain had started to come down harder, droplets settling in your hair and dripping along your skin, but that didn’t stop either of you from keeping your tight grip on each other.
“Hey, the rain’s getting pretty bad, you guys might wanna come on in so that you don’t catch a cold–” Your dad paused as he walked by the door, causing the both of you to jump and pull apart at the sound of his booming voice. “What’s going on here?” He said more seriously
Before either of you could defend yourself, Geno popped up behind him, placing his hands on Sid’s shoulders.
“Young love, da? Leave them alone.” He winked at you, slowly guiding Sid, who had a nasty look on his face, away so that you could be yourselves again.
Both of your faces were flushed as you looked at each other, immediately bursting into giggles.
And then you were back to the peace that you’d built with him.
OMG WAIT I DIDNT KNOW U WROTE FOR BEN KINDEL!!! could u maybe write some smut with him being the whiniest subby boy? just so needy!
BK81.||ben kindel.
smut.
ben loves being used by his gf.
“Benn, stay still,” I commanded, my voice dropping to a low, steady hum. I pressed my hands flat against his chest, the heat radiating from his skin as I dictated the rhythm.
“Can’t,” he whined, a broken sound that vibrated through his ribs. He wiggled beneath me, whimpering as his fingers dug into my hips, his grip bruising and desperate as he tried to find some semblance of stability.
“Stop, stop,” he moaned, his hands sliding back to my waist to physically stall my movements.
I paused, looking down at him with a tilted head. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s too much,” he cried, his eyes already glassy and unfocused from the sheer weight of the pleasure.
I didn't listen. Instead, I picked the pace back up, moving faster until his back began to arch off the mattress. He was thrusting involuntarily now, his body acting on pure instinct. “Good boy, letting me use you like this,” I whispered. His plump, pink lips hung open, catching the air in short, jagged gasps.
“Feels so good,” he panted, his hands moving back to my hips—this time not to stop me, but to help me bounce. The rhythmic sound of our skin meeting echoed loudly through the room, a sharp contrast to the soft, needy noises he was making.
I slowed my pace just enough to draw it out, hearing his whimpers become more rapid and high-pitched. “You're so big inside me, baby. You keep me so full,” I murmured, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to his lips. I ran my fingers through his wavy hair, which was a beautiful, damp mess against the pillows.
“I have to cum.” His eyebrows scrunched together in a mask of beautiful agony. His hands clawed at the tangled blankets, his head shaking back and forth as he felt the wave finally starting to break.
“Hold it, baby. Let me go first,” I said, my voice hardening with an edge of authority. I leaned down, burying my face in the crook of his neck and sucking on the sensitive skin there. I felt him twitch violently inside me, his pulse racing against my own.
“I can’t!” A few stray tears escaped the corners of his eyes, rolling back into his hair.
“No, baby. Hold it. Don’t you dare do it yet,” I said sternly, increasing the friction, riding him with a frantic, driving force as I chased my own peak.
I reached down to wipe the tears from his cheeks before gripping his biceps, pinning him to the bed as he lay there helplessly under me. I watched his stomach muscles contract, his breath hitching as he tried his absolute best to obey, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.
Whimpering cries flooded the room as he tried to find the words to tell me he was at his limit. Just as the world began to blur for me, I felt the clench of my own release. I leaned down, catching his mouth in a deep, searing kiss as I finally gave him permission.
“Cum, baby. Go... let go.”
I reached down to rub his stomach, feeling the tension finally snap as his breath rushed back into him. I felt every bit of him as he filled me, his whole body shuddering through the aftershocks. As the room fell quiet, save for our heavy breathing, I rubbed my nose affectionately against his.
“Such a good boy,” I whispered, showering him with praises as he drifted back down to earth.
pairing: ben kindel x reader
summary: when he forgets to tuck in his tie...the one thing you said not to forget
warnings: fluff
wc: 827
by the time you look up from your phone, ben is almost completely ready. his suit is perfectly fitted, the vest buttoned neatly, and his hair styled just right. everything about him looks polished, put-together, and effortlessly sharp -- except for the tie, which hangs undone around his neck as if it refuses to cooperate.
"you're really leaving that for last?" you ask, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow.
he gives you a half-smile, a little sheepish, a little exasperated. "it's the worst part. i wanted to save it for last."
"you've been 'saving it' for ten minutes," you point out, smirking. "it's not going to tie itself."
"i was thinking about it," he mutters.
"that's not doing it," you tease, standing and stretching your arms as if to prepare yourself for the task. "hand it over."
he sighs dramatically but holds the tie out. "fine, fine. help me."
you take the ends from him, and immediately he straightens, adjusting his posture as if knowing you're in charge somehow makes him more proper. you run your fingers along the fabric, fixing the collar first, then starting the loops and knots. your movements are deliberate but quick, practiced, and ben watches quietly, eyes fixed on your hands, muttering softly that you make it look easy.
"it is easy," you reply without looking up, "for someone who actually knows what they’re doing."
"for you," he murmurs, almost under his breath, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
once the knot is in place, you smooth the tie down against the vest, checking that it sits just right. "there. perfect."
ben glances down, adjusting it once, then nods. "yeah. that's good."
you tap lightly against the front of his vest, giving him a pointed look. "and keep it tucked in. don't forget."
he follows your motion with his eyes and nods again, a quiet, confident smile forming. "i'm not gonna forget."
you give him a skeptical look, but he heads toward the door, tossing one last glance over his shoulder. "i won't," he promises, though there's a trace of mischief in the tone.
later, when he returns, the door clicks softly behind him. his posture is relaxed in a way that makes it clear the formalities of the night have finally worn off. you immediately notice his tie -- it's tucked in his vest. you're slightly surprised he actually remembered to tuck it in.
he flops onto the edge of the bed with an audible sigh. "i forgot to tuck it in," he admits, gesturing vaguely toward his chest.
"what? what do you mean? your tie is in your vest." you can't help a laugh that slips out, sharp and amused. he watches you, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in his eyes.
"the guys saw it, of course," he continues, shaking his head. "right before the group photo, someone finally points it out. and everyone- well, they wouldn't let it go. they teased me the whole time."
you shake your head, still smiling. "i told you not to forget."
"i know," he says quickly, hands running through his hair. "i really tried. i tied it, i had the vest on- i just…left it like that."
"and they noticed immediately," you say, shaking your head again, laughing softly.
"yeah," he says, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth now, despite the embarrassment. "they waited until basically the last possible moment, then got me right before the photo. apparently it was 'too good to ruin early.'"
you step closer, still smiling, and reach out, smoothing the tie again where it has fallen loose. he doesn't flinch, just sits still and watches quietly, the earlier tension slipping away. "i did have it at the start," he says in defense, a quiet attempt at salvaging some dignity.
"for five minutes," you tease.
"still counts," he murmurs, letting a small laugh escape.
there's a brief pause, a quiet moment after all the laughter and teasing, before he looks at you again, more certain this time. "next charity gala...you're coming with me."
you hold his gaze for a second, smiling softly. "so you can make sure i'm there to fix your tie?"
"so i don't mess it up again," he says, quieter now, with just the faintest warmth in his tone. "and so they don't have anything to tease me about."
you laugh lightly, shaking your head. "they'll find something anyway."
"yeah," he admits, a faint grin lingering. "but at least it won't be the tie."
another pause. he leans back slightly on the bed, relaxed now, and glances at you. "come with me next year," he adds, more gently, more firmly.
you nod, smiling. "okay, i will."
he relaxes fully, finally letting himself settle. when you smooth his tie one last time, he actually pays attention, as if he's making a mental note. maybe next time he'll remember. or maybe, next time, you'll be there to make sure he does.
a/n: need 2025-26 cards to drop so i can get a kindy card pls...#ilovebenkindel !! that video of him not tucking his tie into his vest genuinely lives in my head rent free
song on repeat: it's amazing to be young - fontaines d.c.
Content Warnings: whiny ben, secret relationship, little brothers
AN: I'm still figuring out my plans for this au bc they deserve their own story!
Synopsis: you try to squeeze in one last quality date with Ben before he heads out on a grueling three-week road trip, but hiding a secret relationship while being hockey royalty is an extreme sport. When your dad forces your little brother Nikita to tag along for "family time," your plans to properly say goodbye to your boyfriend are entirely hijacked. When Nikita catches you sneaking a frantic goodbye kiss in the garage, you have to find a way to explain why you and your dad’s rookie teammate look like "kissing friends" without accidentally blowing your entire six-month secret.
part one part two part three
The Penguins’ practice facility had become a second home to you over the years. I mean, of course it did. You took your first steps in the locker room.
"You're late," Ben said, leaning against the boards with his skates already laced, gloves tucked under his arm. "We were all worried sick!" His grin was crooked, the kind that made your stomach flip every time.
You snorted, shoving your bag into your locker. "No you weren't. Look at Sid, he's asleep right now."
"No I'm not."
You rolled your eyes and turned toward the equipment room, but Ben's glove hooked your sleeve, yanking you backward. "Noooooo come back!"
You sighed but couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at your lips as his fingers lingered on your sleeve, warm even through the fabric. “You’re such a pest."
Ben trailed behind you into the equipment room like a lost puppy, his skates scraping against the concrete floor in a way that would’ve earned him a glare from any of the trainers. You pretended not to notice him hovering, deliberately slow as you rummaged through the bins of tape rolls, even though you knew exactly where yours was. The silence stretched, thick with the smell of sweat and sharp new rubber, until Ben exhaled dramatically and slumped against the doorframe.
"Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNN," he whines, dragging out your name like a child denied candy.
"Mmm, yes?" You turn just in time to catch the full force of his pout, lips jutting out, eyebrows doing that pathetic little wiggle that makes him look like a kicked puppy.
"Benny… don't look at me like that," you mutter, but your resolve is already crumbling. Ben sees it, and his pout deepens, eyes widening just enough to make them glint under the fluorescent lights. His fingers twitch at his side like he's physically restraining himself from grabbing you outright.
The tape rolls clatter against the metal shelf as you abandon them entirely, their rattle drowned out by the sharp intake of Ben’s breath when your hands fist in the front of his practice jersey. His mouth is warm and familiar, and his hands are everywhere: cupping your jaw, sliding into your hair, skimming down your ribs like he’s trying to map the spaces he missed.
"Happy now?" you mutter against his mouth, but he’s already shaking his head, chasing your lips when you pull back just to tease him. His nose bumps yours, clumsy, and you can feel the curve of his smile when he murmurs, "Nope. Try again."
"Try again?" you huff, but Ben's already nodding, eyes bright with that familiar, irresistible mischief. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you flush against him, and you swear you can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat through the layers of his gear. "You're ridiculous," you mumble, but it's half-hearted at best—your hands are already sliding into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands at the nape of his neck.
Ben whines, high and needy, the sound muffled against your lips when you kiss him again, slower this time. His grip tightens, pulling you impossibly closer, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you before he leaves. The thought makes your chest ache—one night was bad enough, but this time it’s a three-week-long road trip, half the continent between you and his stupid face. You bite down on his bottom lip, just hard enough to make him gasp, and he melts against you with a shudder.
"Gonna miss you," he murmurs between kisses, voice rough, and you can't tell if it's the admission or the way his thumbs trace circles over your hip bones that makes your breath catch.
The sound of voices outside the equipment room door slices through the quiet like a skate blade on fresh ice—your dad’s unmistakable Russian baritone, followed by Sid’s dry, amused reply.
“Y/N here yet?” The question—your dad’s voice, all rough edges and barely contained exhaustion—carried through the half-open door of the equipment room. You froze, Ben’s mouth still pressed to yours, his fingers twitching against your ribs like he was debating whether to let go or pull you closer.
“Yeah,” Sid answered, “went to grab tape. Ben went to help.”
"Ah, I figured they were together."
You and Ben spring apart like someone dumped a bucket of pucks between you. His hands, which had been warm and steady on your hips a second ago, fumble for the nearest shelf as you lunge for a stray helmet rolling near your feet. The camera. The camera. That’s what you were supposed to be in here for.
The door creaked open wider, and your dad’s broad frame filled the doorway, his practice jersey hanging loose over his shoulders. He blinked at the two of you and raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"
"Hi, Geno," Ben chirped, voice cracking just enough to make your teeth clench. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. "Just helping Y/N out."
Your dad’s gaze flicked between you, slow and assessing, and for one terrifying second, you were sure he knew. But then his face split into that familiar, lopsided grin, and he clapped a heavy hand on Ben’s shoulder. "Good. Come, warm-up starts soon. Sidney ask for you."
-------------
"'Kay, bye Dad. Ben and I are going out but we'll be back soon."
The words take your brother hit your ears like a puck to the ribs—unexpected, bruising, and entirely unfair. You freeze mid-step, halfway through pulling your hoodie over your practice jersey, and whip around to face your dad. "Seriously?" The whine in your voice is unbecoming, but you can't help it. "We're just gonna grab food. Why does Nik have to come?"
Your dad raises one eyebrow, slow and deliberate, like he’s waiting for you to hear yourself. Behind you, Ben’s already bouncing on his toes near the door, keys dangling from his fingers, trying—and failing—to hide his smirk. "Because," your dad says, shrugging into his jacket, "is family time. You don’t see him all week, now you complain? You have no plans today."
You open your mouth, then close it. What are you supposed to say? Actually, Dad, I was planning on getting Ben’s tongue down my throat in the backseat of his car, maybe dry hump a little, and Nikita’s presence severely complicates that agenda?
You huff, loud and dramatic, scuffing your shoe against the rubber mat by the locker room door. "I do have plans, dad" you insist, crossing your arms tight enough to feel the press of your own elbows through your hoodie. "You guys leave tomorrow and I wanted to spend some time with my friend before he leaves."
Your dad blinks at you, slow and unimpressed, the way he does when you're being ridiculous but he's too tired to call you out properly. "Plans?" he echoes, glancing pointedly at Ben—who’s suddenly very interested in the frayed edge of his shoelace. "What plans? You eat, you talk, same as with Nikita."
Instead of responding, you groan loud enough that Sid glances up from his stall across the room, eyebrows raised. “Fine,” you mutter, stomping away like a toddler denied dessert. “I’ll be right back with Nikita."
Ben leans against the wall outside the locker room, twirling his keys around his finger with practiced ease. Your dad lingers nearby, digging through his duffel bag like he hasn’t already emptied half its contents onto the bench. “So,” he says, voice casual, eyes still fixed on some imaginary item he’s pretending to search for, “where you kids going?”
Ben shrugs, glancing toward the locker room door like he can see right through it to where you’re sulking inside. “We were gonna go to Subway, but I'll ask what Niko wants."
Your dad hums, nodding absently. “What a kind young man.” He zips the bag shut, then straightens, fixing Ben with a look that’s somehow both pointed and utterly blank. “No accidents, da?”
You emerge from the locker room with Nikita trailing behind, your pout exaggerated enough that Ben has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. He wants to drag you into the nearest empty hallway, press you against the wall, and kiss that sulky expression right off your face—but instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and nods at Nikita. "Hey, Niko," he says, easy as breathing. "Subway sound good, or you wanna hit up that burger place by the rink?"
-------
"Niki, go inside and play on your Switch. I need to talk to Ben."
Nikita’s footsteps barely fade inside before you’re already halfway across the console, fingers twisting into the fabric of Ben’s hoodie. He barely has time to inhale before your mouth crashes into his, all teeth and desperation. Ben makes a muffled sound against your lips, half-surprise, half-relief, his hands flying up to cradle your jaw like you’re something fragile even as you bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to make him gasp.
Ben’s mouth is warm and yielding under yours, his grip on your hips tightening as you shift closer across the center console. His fingers slide under the hem of your hoodie, skimming over bare skin, and you shiver—not from the cold garage air, but from the way his breath hitches when you nip at his lower lip.
You pull away just as the garage door groans open again—perfect timing, because Nikita’s knuckles rap against the passenger window three seconds later, sharp and impatient. Ben’s lips are still parted, his breath coming out in short pants, and you have to physically turn his face toward the door with both hands before Nikita notices the flush creeping up his neck.
Nikita’s nose wrinkles as he peers through the fogged-up window, his breath leaving little condensation circles on the glass. "Did you guys lick the car?" he asks, voice muffled, and you swear Ben chokes on air beside you.
You yank the passenger door open and step out before Nikita can lean in further. "What, Kita?" you say, trying not to sound frustrated. "What's up?"
Nikita blinks up at you, utterly oblivious, his winter coat zipped all the way to his chin like a tiny astronaut. "I can’t find my Switch." He frowns.
"Where's mom?"
"I dunno."
You turn, flashing an apologetic smile at Ben before he can even pout. His shoulders slump theatrically, but the corner of his mouth quirks up anyway—that stupid, soft smile he saves for moments like this, when the world keeps conspiring to keep you apart but he’s too fond of you to actually complain.
You sigh, "alright. Say bye to Ben."
"Bye, Ben," Nikita chirps, waving enthusiastically before bolting toward the house without a second glance.
"Love you," you murmur, leaning in through the passenger window for a kiss.
"Love you."
Nikita's voice—bright, curious, and entirely too loud—cuts through the quiet garage like a referee's whistle. "Are you and Ben kissing friends?" You jerk back from Ben's window so fast your head knocks against the doorframe, pain shooting down your spine.
"What? No." The lie bursts out of you too fast, too sharp. You clear your throat, force your voice into something resembling calm. "Go inside."
edging ben kindel - drabble
wc: 1k
warnings: edging (kind of), hand job, sub!ben
note: not proofread lol i'm tired sorry
18+ content below the cut!
You’ve had him like this for over an hour now, sprawled out on the bed at your mercy. He’s naked, you’re still fully clothed, his moans and whimpers echoing off the apartment wall. You keep telling him to be quiet, that he’s going to regret being so loud when he has to greet the neighbors in the elevator tomorrow morning, but he just can’t control himself! It’s embarrassing, really.
Ben’s body glistens with sweat, stomach quivering as you drag your nails up and down his chest.. His eyes are shut tight, head tilted back into the pillows behind him. His cock is bright red, standing hard as a rock, bobbing with his every movement. You’ve edged him four times now, gotten him to the brink of release, and then pulled away completely.
“P-Please,” he begs, breathless. “Please, baby, let me cum, I’ll do anything!”
You tsk. “Be patient, baby.,” your tone is condescending, causing little beads of precum to slide down his shaft. “This is just so much fun for me!”
His hands twitch at his sides, clenched into fists to keep himself from touching you. When you’d first laid him down and started kissing him, you’d told him very sternly that you expected him to keep his hands to himself. And even though it looks like it physically pains him to not be able to touch you, he’s obeying what you told him to, being your good boy.
You remove your hands from his body entirely, and Ben lets out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard, eyes snapping open.
“N-No, wait, come back,” he says, voice cracking. “Don’t go!”
“Poor baby,” you pout, staring at him for a few seconds, just to make him squirm. You don’t make him wait long, dragging one of your hands from his calf to his thigh, to the base of his cock, but not grasping it. He’s shivering, eyes locked on to where your hand rests right next to him, throbbing and waiting anxiously for you. When you look into his eyes, you feel the heat in your stomach intensify, seeing that his pupils are pools of black, so large the brown of his eyes is practically gone. You sigh happily and say, “You’re perfect. My perfect boy.”
“Fuck,” Ben mutters, gripping the sheets so hard you think they might rip. “A-All for you, only for you. Good for you.”
You lean forward and peck him on the lips,soft and sweet. When you pull away, Ben chases your lips, but then you’re wrapping your fingers around his cock, and he falls back onto the bed, body convulsing as if it can’t decide whether it wants to tense or relax.
Long, high-pitched whines fall from Ben’s mouth as you stroke up and down, squeezing every time you reach his tip. His thighs are shaking, hips starting to buck up before he stalls himself, not wanting you to be upset with him. Your eyes rove up and down his body, how his lower stomach clenches every time you stroke down, the little beads of sweat falling down his face.
He looks beautiful like this.
It doesn’t take him long to start teetering on the edge. He grits his teeth with the effort of holding his orgasm at bay for you, since you haven’t given him permission yet.
“Benny,” you whisper, and his eyes crack open. “Look at me, baby. C’mon, I know you can.”
“Ohhhh,” he hums, breath shaky as he nods, eyes locking onto yours. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he gushes, mouth dropped open in a constant moan. “C-Can’t believe how lucky I am. Y’so perfect.”
You smile, heart soaring at the praise and compliments. Ben’s always had a way with words, always known exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the world. Usually, you like to ruin him to the point where he no longer has the ability to form words, but he’s being so good for you tonight that you decide not to make him suffer anymore.
“Let go, sweet boy,” you murmur, speeding up your hand. “You deserve it.”
Ben’s breathing speeds up, his cock swelling in your hands. He looks up at you, gaze full of love and hope and lust as he asks, “C-Can I touch you? Please?”
You shift a bit closer to him on the bed, your clothed knee bumping his thigh, causing a shiver to travel through Ben’s body. You give him a kiss, shocked at the fact that he hasn’t blown his load yet despite you giving him permission, and say, “Of course.”
Ben doesn’t hesitate, immediately picking his hands up from where they’d been tensed against his thigh, and settles them on your waist, gripping you tight and pulling you closer to his body.
Seconds later, he’s spilling into your hand with a wail.
“Oh baby,” you coo, continuing to pump him through his orgasm. You keep going, pushing the line of overstimulation, finally stopping when Ben starts shrieking a bit too loud. Ben just lays there, staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard. “I know, I know. You did so good for me.”
You get up and locate a tissue, cleaning off your hand, then go into the bathroom to grab a damp washcloth. Ben stays limp, eyes tracking your every movement with a heaving chest. He hisses when you start wiping him down, whining about the cold, but you ignore him.
It doesn’t take long for him to start drifting off, eyes fluttering closed. You turn around to throw the washcloth in the hamper in the corner of the room, and when you turn around, Ben’s looking at you with pleading eyes and making grabby hands at you.
You lay down in bed, Ben coming to lay his head on your chest. He’s still naked, wrapping himself around your body like a koala.
He’s asleep pretty much immediately.
You settle into bed too, carding your fingers through Ben’s thick, dark hair. He has a blissed out smile on his face, even in sleep, and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.
Tomorrow he’s going to be embarrassed about this, cover his face and tell you to “Stoppppp!” But for right now, he’s cuddled into your side, and that’s all that matters.
You turn on the TV and fall asleep, feeling calm and happy, and proud of how good Ben did for you.
a/n: this was lowk trash and there wasn't much actual edging but it's ok! thank you all for reading, and i hope you enjoyed this (:
