Ben X Reader - Blog Posts

Who Dunnit (Kylo Ren x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Someone left their panties in the control room after what must have been a night of fun and Hux is determined to find out who.

A/N: Small lil thing that I’ve had rolling around in the ol’ hat rack for a while. Hope you like it!

Word count: 643

        “What the hell is this?” Hux’s voice when he was angry was all-too familiar, but today there was an added element of pure abhorrence. 

        Curious, you glanced up from your holopad to whatever the general had screeched about only to widen your eyes at the sight. 

        Panties. 

        More specifically, the black lace panties Kylo had torn off you after last night’s mischievous “rendezvous” in the control room. 

        Fuck.         “Oh-” Hux turned his attention to you and maintained furious eye contact while one index finger continued to point at the pair of destroyed undergarments flung directly behind his main computer. “-Oh, my God, how disgusting!” you choked out, trying to avoid the burning of your cheeks. “Sir, I will take care of that right away for you.” 

        You rose from your chair and took two steps forward only to rethink your plan and grab two number two pencils, reaching for the panties and stabbing them ever so precariously. With pursed lips, you lifted them up at just the perfect height to make awkward eye contact with Hux over the torn waistband. 

        One lone eye twitched while the other was so wide you could almost see your panicking reflection in his cornea. “Burn them,” he hissed, “and never speak of this again.”

        “Y-yes sir,” you nodded, “of course, sir.” As fast and discreetly as you could, you speedwalked over to the doors that led into the hallway.

        “YN, wait!” Hux’s back was to you as you flinched and turned to face him.

        “Yes, sir?” 

        Fuck fuck fuck.

        “You hear any word of who might’ve done this, you bring it straight to me, understood?”

        Hallelujah.

        “Yes, sir.” Without another word, you dashed into the hallway, hightailing it as fast as you could run with your two arms precariously holding your own panties between a couple of pencils before you crashed into something solid.

        “Oof,” you coughed, bouncing back and shaking away the disorientation of the collision, only to meet eyes with the very culprit.

        “YN.” Kylo acknowledged your presence curtly as he had agreed to do for the past few months since your relationship had started. With his mask removed, you could almost see his eyes bug out of his brain when he noticed just what exactly you had been holding.

        “Is that…?”

        “Yep.” You nodded with nervous eyes. 

        “Yours?”

        “Yep.”

        “From yesterday?”

        “Mmhmm.”

        “Where did-”

        “The control room.” 

        “Fuck.” Kylo ran a hand through his hair and breathed out a sigh, eyes still locked on the panties you were currently stabbing. “Who-”

        “Hux.”

        “Damn.” He nodded and gestured to you. “Does he know they’re-”

        “No.”

        “Thank God.”

        “Yeah,” you scoffed and shook your head, trying to ignore the way even the sight of Kylo left you feeling. “Well, I better-”

        “Yes, of course.” Once more, he nodded, gesturing to the panties. “You… do that.”

        Awkward silence settled around the two of you as you watched the other over the outstretched pencils. Kylo’s eyes flickered with something more than you could decipher at such a moment while you squeezed your thighs together. 

        Finally, he made the first move to turn away and stepped aside to let you pass. 

        As you did so, a single hand snagged your hip to stop you in place before a pair of lips planted on the skin just above your collarbone. 

        “Same time tonight?” Kylo whispered, kissing the mark you had tried so hard to cover up. 

        “Yes,” you hummed, tilting your head to let his lips travel further up your already marked neck.

        “Same place?”

        “No!”

His Mask (Kylo Ren x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After your very first mission for the Resistance goes awry, you can’t help but feel a connection to the Supreme Leader sent to interrogate you. However, when he lets you go after reading the name on your wrist, you can’t help but feel like the mission hadn’t accidentally gone so wrong after all. 

A/N: So like… this was one of the dudes I’ve been drooling over for the past couple weeks. Just a warning, I’ve only watched the first movie of the prequels and even that was like four years ago, so I wish you luck. Kylo is just *mwah* so freaking pretty I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy my first fic about a *non-animated* person, and Merry Christmas y’all!

Word count: 4115

        Hot. Dark. Dank.

        The bag haphazardly shoved over your head blinded your eyes along with your other four senses. Stray hairs plastered to your forehead with ease thanks to the sweat you produced combined with the condensation from your own breaths.

        “Please, let me go,” you sniveled. “I don’t know anything, I swear.”

        Your hands flexed and tugged against the metal clamps strapped over your wrists, doing nothing but leaving behind a rash you yearned to soothe. The chair you were strapped into was more like a reclining board, leaving your head to rest on stiff metal while your feet hovered above the floor, ankles confined akin to your arms. 

        “I think you know more than you’re letting on.” The voice was gruff and modulated, giving signs that this was the masked man you oh-so wanted to be the last person to interrogate you. 

        It was frustrating and terrifying all at the same time. Not only did you have no idea what information they wanted to extract from your brain, you also knew your denial of such would only cause them to hound you more. 

        “Come on,” you whimpered, head slamming back with a clang. “Just let me go. Please.”

        Silence followed your words for a solid minute before a whoosh of fabric met your ears. 

        “Leave us,” the robotic voice mumbled, causing two or three heavy pairs of footsteps to trail out of the room. What you assumed was the door hissed to a close with one final click. 

        More footsteps, these ones drawing closer to you, left you only to tense up in anticipation as the heat of another person took the place of the stale air on your right side.

        The bag over your head was ripped away in an instant, causing you to gasp and swallow as much cool oxygen as possible. The light of the room stung your eyes less than you expected, most likely because it itself was dimmed with hues of deep blue climbing up the walls. 

        Taking in your surroundings, you immediately noticed your interrogator was nowhere near your field of vision--probably on purpose. 

        His presence, instead, was palpable behind you as the heat of his form rolled off in waves. 

        “There’s no one here to save you now.” 

        Though you didn’t need to be told that, the thought still drove a cold stake of fear through your heart. 

        “Come on, I don’t know anything,” you pleaded, shifting your position to try and stare at the man who seemed adamant on not allowing you even a glimpse of his form. 

        “Then perhaps I should stop bothering with the theatrics.”

        The man the Resistance had warned you about was… intimidating. At least you knew you could trust them about that fact. Black leather covered every inch of his powerful figure, save for his helmet and cape, and a lightsaber was strapped to his hip. Watching the way his hand twitched just near the handle of the weapon, you feared he would pull it out and slice you right in half any second. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears but it couldn’t silence his voice. Sweat dripped down your face and clammed your palms when his head tilted to the side. 

        He wasn’t shy about observing you, doing so for what felt like hours. 

        “What is your name?” he finally grunted out, posture never changing. You, on the other hand, twitched and shivered every few seconds, itching to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

        Should I lie? Should I tell the truth? Would he be able to know even if I did?

        This man held your fate in his hands. To him, you were just another prisoner to gain information from and deposit into the nearest waste planet when he was done.

        But to you, he was the man who could kill you without batting an eye. It didn’t matter if you were someone’s soulmate or daughter or friend; you were just someone who happened to get involved in this galaxy’s war. A poor soul among many this man was ready to sacrifice in order for him to gain power. 

        You were nothing but another bug to squash. 

        “YN,” you dropped your head to your chest, acknowledging your fate. “YN YLN. And I still don’t know any information that might-”

        Clang!

        You flinched as the lightsaber crashed onto the floor, following its path back to the shaking hand that had dropped it. The man before you now stood stiff as a board but you could hear him suck in a breath between his teeth.

        “Your name is-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat. “What’s your name again?” Unlike the last five minutes, his voice suddenly sounded less sure and demanding. He sounded unstable--one of the many emotions you never expected from one of the most feared people of the galaxy. 

        You hesitated, furrowing your brows before forcing your eyes to trail from his still-trembling hand to his mask. “It’s… YN.” You swallowed, licking your lips before continuing, “Why?”

        “Your wrist. Let me see it.”

        “What?” Suddenly, his every movement had your attention. You reared back in your chair and tensed all your muscles, trying even harder to rip straight through the solid metal. “No!”

        “Show me,” he ordered, his tone now sharper than a blade. 

        To hell with him.

        The second he reached for your hand, you ripped it away, keeping your wrist face down against the metal clasp he had unlocked to reach it. Just when he grasped your hand for the third time and tried to rip it away from your side, you did something that shocked both you and him out of the stupor of war. 

        Spit dribbled straight down the middle of his helmet, sparkling in the dim lighting of the room while trailing down every indent in the silver detailing around his eyes. 

        Oh shit. I’m fucked.

        Ever so slowly, he dropped your wrist and straightened his posture, facing his head towards something just off in the distance past your own. You bit your tongue and watched his every move with a hawklike focus, knowing that a man trained as much as him could kill you in a split second without you even realizing. 

        Even when his hand raised in what you expected to be the last backhand of your life, you never looked away or braced for impact. 

        So you grew confused when his hand traveled up to his mask, which came undone with a small hiss of pressurized air. 

        Oh. 

        Oh okay. 

        Wow.

        He was…. His hair was…. Damn.

        This man, the man before you, was hot. Beauty marks decorated his right cheek as hazel eyes burned into your own. A long, straight nose sat naturally lifted above lips that seemed too plump for their own good and dark brown curls that had never heard the words “helmet hair” just barely reached the end of a pointed chin--all of which made you consider your sanity. 

        How-… how?

        “Sorry about the helmet.” Nice one, YN. Apologizing to the enemy.

        His face never changed; he only looked you up and down, properly this time. You were too caught up in the shock of his surprising allure to notice just where his eyes had landed. 

        It was only when you felt your arm being lifted away from your body that you were shaken from your daze. “Hey-”

        “Hmm.”

        Your brows furrowed. “‘Hmm’?” You tried to rip your wrist from his iron-tight grip but you soon noticed the effort was useless. “What the hell does that mean?”

        “Your soulmate…” he trailed off, cheek twitching as he glanced away. “He is…”

        “What?”

        “He’s…” the man set his jaw and returned his gaze to yours. You only noticed there had been a warmth in his eyes when it was gone; all he gave you now was stone-cold nothingness. “He’s dead.”

        His gloved hand dropped your right wrist and it only flopped down to your side. He’s dead. Whatever emotion you’d had on your face dropped in exchange for a blank slate. Tears pricked your eyes and yet you felt stupid for even mourning someone you’d never met. 

        “Oh.” 

        The logical part of you that had shriveled to the size of a worm still questioned the relevance of this all. How did this man know your soulmate? Why had he been so adamant on seeing his name in the first place? What did he have to do with any of this?

        The man you still had no name for clenched his jaw and turned away as a tear slipped down your cheek. 

        “We have no use for you.”

        “What-”

        “You will be returned to where you were found. Now that we know you have no relation to the Resistance, your name will not be blacklisted and you will be left alone.”

        “Why-”

        He left no room for your confused--albeit broken--questions as he turned away and pressed his hand against a glowing panel near the entrance to the room. The door slid open to reveal a blinding, white hallway guarded by a single stormtrooper. 

        “Hey, wait!” You tugged against the restraints as your eyes stayed locked on his back, only to crash onto the cold floor when the clasps suddenly released. “Oof!”

        Click. With his mask situated back over his face, he finally faced you once more, his soldier standing at attention by his side. 

        “I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.”

                                +++

        “YN, you’re back!” 

        The Resistance leader, Leia, glanced up from the holopad. Her dark brows raised high enough to meet her hairline as her lips separated in shock. 

        “YN.”

        You struggled to meet her eyes or even fake a smile at the one who had greeted you. “General,” you cringed at your raw voice, feeling the onset of crying side-effects attack you all at once, “can we talk in private… please?”

        Leia schooled in her surprise enough to nod at the other Resistance members, gesturing her head towards the exit just behind you. They filed out accordingly, each one more concerned than the last about your distraught appearance. 

        Finally, when it was just the two of you left in the room, Leia directed you to the table she stood at, shutting down the holopad so the only light in the room buzzed from the ceiling, flickering every two seconds due to the overgrown tree roots weaving in and out of each electric wire. 

        “YN, I’m so sorry we got separated on that mission. I never meant for you to be left behind like that.” Leia shook her head at herself in shame, but something told you she was avoiding eye contact for a reason. “Did you-... are you okay?”

        “Yes,” you nodded, dropping into a single leather chair sitting at a computer a few feet away from the holopad’s table. “Yeah, for some reason, I’m fine. They-,” you glanced at your wrist before swallowing and returning your eyes to her face, “-they let me go. I don’t know why they did, but they let me go.”

        “Did you-”

        “General,” you interrupted with a shake of your head, “please, I need to tell you something.”

        Leia got the hint and grabbed the second chair in the room, sitting with a straight back and hands splayed out on her lap. They seemed to twitch for something--something like a weapon to protect herself. You guessed it was a habit of hers, but since you had only known her for six  months or so, you tried not to think too much of it. 

        Ever since she had found you holed up in your home hiding from the First Order soldiers that had attacked your town, she had taken you in. “Something about you,” she had said with a knowing smile, “I just want to make sure you’re safe.” She had treated you like her own daughter, much different from how she’d treat the other Rebels. Every two seconds, she would scan you for injuries or ask if you were okay. She’d even let you stay in her own home, in a spare room. 

        At least, you had thought it was a spare room. 

        It only took her two months of knowing you before she revealed the name on your wrist was her son’s. The very room you stayed in had been his, Ben Solo’s, and she’d wanted to make sure her son’s soulmate was safe and healthy in case she’d ever found him again. 

        She’d told you the story of how she got separated from him during a skirmish with the First Order and ever since she’d been searching for him. 

        It was only today that you knew she needed to give up the search. 

        “Leia, I-,” your breathing grew quicker and your headache grew worse and before you knew it, you were shedding tears. “Leia, I’m so sorry.”

        The former princess tensed up and reached a hand toward you. “YN, what-”

        “He’s gone,” you whispered, shaking your head and pursing your lips, “I found out when I got captured.”

        “Kylo’s dead?” she breathed out, eyes growing forlorn. You paused, raising your eyes to study her face. 

        “What?” You sniffled, wiping away the tears and growing confused at her words. “What do you mean? Who’s Kylo?”

        “The man who…” Leia’s words broke off when a sort of realization dawned in her eyes. “Oh.”

        You were at a loss for words, utterly confused at her silence when you noticed something. 

        Her eyes. Her nose. The hair, the nervous habits, the “lost” family pictures, all of it. 

        “Kylo was the man who captured me,” you muttered, eyes growing wide and thumb running over your wrist, “but he’s not Kylo on my wrist, is he?”

        Leia was trained in keeping secrets and her expression was as calm as one could expect, but it was only for one single reason. 

        She wanted to let you down easy.

        “No, YN. His name used to be Ben Solo.”

        “And it’s not anymore.”

        “No. Now he goes by Kylo Ren,” she closed her eyes and dropped her head. “That’s his name now… in the First Order.” 

        “You knew?” A spark of betrayal flickered in the pit of your stomach. Though he was Leia’s son, he was also your soulmate. Some part of you felt like you had a right to know what had happened to him--especially if he had done something as significant as turning to the dark side. 

        Instead, she had lied to you, omitting just enough of the truth that you would stick around. 

        Lord knows you would have left months ago if you had learned of the person he had turned into. 

        A thought hit you--a terrible, painful thought that had you gulping and biting your cheek. “Did…” your fingernails dig into your palms to steady your breathing, “did you want me to get captured? By him?”

        Her lack of a response was all you needed to know. 

        “Oh, my God. You knew. You knew the entire time. That’s why you took me in. You thought I could save him.”

        “YN, please, I had to-”

        “You didn’t have to do anything,” you clenched your eyes closed, resentment overtaking anguish deep in your chest. “You didn’t have to lead me to him like a lamb to the slaughter.”

        More tears fell, and the one person you thought you could trust in this galaxy only sat by and watched, opening and closing her mouth without a single word escaping. 

        “I just wanted my son back,” she finally whispered, “I didn’t want him to lose himself like my father had.” 

        “Yeah,” you scoffed, licking your lips and rising from your seat. “Well, now you’ve just lost another person.”

        “YN, wait-”

        “I’m leaving,” you breathed out, shaking your head hopelessly, “so please don’t bother coming after me.”

        Nobody said a word to you as you walked to the nearest empty craft and boarded, and the only ones who tried were hushed by Leia. 

        “Let her go. She wants to be alone now.”

                                +++

        The bar was chattier than usual, though you blamed it on being a Friday afternoon. The outside was hot and though you could still feel the beating sun through the glass windows, the tan building was a hell of a lot cooler. Air conditioning clanked and buzzed as you cleaned glasses and bused bottles. 

        “YN,” the bartender of the night handed you a damp rag and gestured to a table just over the bar ledge, “stop moping around or I’ll cut more than your paycheck.”

        You sighed and grimaced, accepting the dripping cloth before tiptoeing your way around the many customers already reaching their alcoholic limits. 

        Only two weeks had passed since the worst day of your life and you still felt the sting of betrayal and rejection. Not only had the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life ended up being the daunting Supreme Leader of the First Order, but the woman you had almost grown to love as your own mother had delivered you straight into the palms of his hands. 

        You were lost and confused, trying to find some sort of way to keep traveling across the galaxy by making money anyway possible. Sadly, only bounty hunter bars seemed interested in allowing an unknown, unwanted female to wash their dishes and tables. 

        “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, wedging a used fork under what must’ve been the third piece of gum stuck to a wooden chair that day. Gambling and poker around the room must have reached an all-time high as cheers and groans ringed in your ears. An all-around unpleasant buzz settled directly between your temples as you bit your lip, scraping at the gum harder and harder until finally--finally--the last string of green tore away from the seat and gathered around the fork’s prongs. 

        Forearm burning, you almost permitted yourself a small cheer in success until you noticed a change in the bar’s atmosphere. 

        Everyone was dead silent as the bell atop the entryway stopped jingling. The wooden door creaked to a close and five to ten pairs of heavy footsteps thumped against the dusty concrete of the bar’s floor. 

        Panic froze you like a deer in headlights, hoping your location in the back corner of the bar hid you from whoever had entered. You didn’t even dare raise your head for fear of drawing attention to yourself. 

        The person who had the power to silence a crowd of former soldiers, bounty hunters, and drunk mechanics was not someone you wanted the focus of. 

        More footsteps pounded on the floor, drawing closer before a familiar voice spoke up. 

        “Clear everyone out,” Kylo ordered. “Then leave us.” 

        Your heart jumped at his firm, mechanized tone and a warm wave of fuzzy feelings washed over you. After being by your bitter self for so long, you suppose the new emotion wasn’t completely unwanted. You just… weren’t sure if you were happy about its cause. 

        Eyes still locked on the tabletop, you listened as people filed out of the building without question, more than likely at gunpoint with hands raised above their heads. A solid five minutes passed before the room was left completely empty aside from you and your soulmate, and you chastised yourself for deriving some sort of pleasure out of the opportunity of getting to see him again. 

        “YN.”

        “Why are you here?” You spun around to face him, surprised to find his hand outstretched and reaching towards you. Almost immediately, it dropped to his side as he straightened his posture. 

        Deep down, your heart glowed at his presence, and you hated it. You hated that even after everything that had happened, everything you had learned, that you still wanted to see him. You wanted to feel his touch and see his face again. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to see your own name in your own handwriting on his wrist. 

        You cursed at whoever had placed his name on your wrist, because you were falling for the man before you before you had even seen his face twice. 

        Kylo’s hands raised from his side, pausing midway for just a second before reaching up fully and removing his helmet. Like before, it clicked and pulled away with a hiss and, of course, his hair looked untouched. 

        That said nothing of his appearance, however. 

        His eyes held dark circles you didn’t quite remember from your last meeting and his lips seemed paler. The brown locks, as you took a second closer look, seemed more flat and dull than you remembered. 

        Maybe it had been the glory of your first meeting, or maybe it just so happened to be that he was feeling as bad as you had been without having your soulmate by your side. 

        No, it wasn’t physical, like a stabbing pain in your side. It had been more like a piece of yourself had been missing; like there was a hole in your heart that ached and ached, but you just didn’t know how to solve it. 

        Seeing Kylo now made it fade just a little, but just as much time together would be needed to heal how much time you had spent apart. 

        The Supreme Leader set down his helmet just next to your forgotten rag and gum-fork on the table before returning his attention to you. With a twitch of a muscle in his jaw, he met your eyes and spoke. 

        “I thought tracking you down would have been hard, and yet you decided to find home in a place where information can be bought at any price.”

        “Maybe I wanted to be found.” The words slipped from your lips without volition but you couldn’t deny their truth. You wanted to see him again because, though your first meeting had only lasted minutes, you found it hard to focus on anything else.

        His lips twitched at your confession and he took that as an invitation to step closer. “I’m glad then.” 

        “Kylo-”

        “Because you’re coming with me,” he latched a hand around your wrist, “willingly or not.”

        Your eyes widened and some part of you screamed to pull away; maybe it was the logical part of your brain, or perhaps it was your brain altogether.

        Either way, you didn’t care to listen.

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, “but only on one condition.”

        Hazel eyes met yours and he nodded curtly. “Anything.”

        “Let me see my name.”

        His brows furrowed for a split second before he released your wrist and removed his right glove, tugging up his sleeve and flashing just the minimum amount of bare skin. 

        YN YLN. Same easy handwriting, a little too heavy in the beginning but lighter in tone at the end. Your name was a bold black, a stark contrast from the rest of his paled wrist. 

        Without a word, you reached forward and snagged his hand, running your index finger over the name and smiling at the quick breath he sucked in. 

        You felt it too--the rush of pure endorphins travelling down your spine, through every nerve ending in your body. 

        Unconcealed happiness. Sheer pleasure. You shivered a tad at the giddiness running through your veins. 

        Kylo was much better at concealing his emotions, allowing only a small tilt of the corner of his lips while his pupils widened at the feeling. 

        “I’ll go with you,” you nodded, a small grin making its way onto your face. “I want… I want to be with you.” If possible, his eyes glowed even brighter and a hint of adoration creased the corner of his lids.

        “Good.” Ever so hesitantly, he reached a hand up to cup the side of your face. “Then we shall rule this galaxy together, my empress.” You leaned into his hold and pressed a hand against his own, intertwining your fingers with his against your cheek.

        “Just one more request.”

        “Anything for you.”

        “Stop wearing that goddamned mask.”

Negative One. [ SISTER]

Ben Hargreaves x Sparrow! black reader,NOT A CHAPTER.

......._........_........._......._....._..._........_.............._........._....._._........_...._

This is Sam Hargreaves, the twin of Diana Hargreaves, just a lot more sensitive. This is not it's on story. This is a character introduction for the story. [ Number Zero ]

Sam is a siren and a part time, Witch Sam died two years ago, and Diana, like Klaus and Ben, can see her ghost.

Sam can breathe under water like it's normal.

She can swim every well and she can't grow a tall.

Sam can sing every well like movie star good some would say like Arianna Grande?!

Sam only knows how to make things with her Witch hobbies.

Sam in siren form:

Previous chapter:

"Cheating" BEN_Drowned Oneshot

---------------->

“Oh, come on! You’re totally cheating!” Y/N shouts, roughly standing up and pointing at the screen that said she lost with her controller. BEN only grinned and exited out of Super Mario Kart, returning to the menu screen.

“Nuh uh! You just suck at gaming.” He stuck his tongue out at her and yelped when she threw a pillow at him. “Woah, chill out!”

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Y/N tossed her controller onto the couch cushion and tackled him, rolling them both off the couch.

He held onto her hands and screeched, trying to push her off of him. He failed miserably, though, granted her wrath was much stronger than what his twiggy arms could handle.

BEN kept screaming for help as she threatened him repeatedly, and looked over at the stairs as Jeff ran down them.

“Help! Please! Oh my fucking God, help me!” He yelled over at Jeff, and the rugged man only snickered and took a picture of them. 

“Nah, I’ve got shit to do. Funny as fuck, though.” Jeff shoved his phone back into his hoodie pocket and went into the kitchen, no doubt grabbing a beer. 

BEN continued to shout until he kicked her knee and she fell off of him, and he took his chance to run behind the couch. He and her played an odd game of ‘Ring Around the Rosie’ with it, and she looked for any opening she could to get to him. 

“Just admit you cheated!” She shouted, and threw another pillow at him.

“Just admit you suck ass at Super Mario Kart!” BEN shouted back, and Y/N stopped chasing him around the couch and stared at him. He also froze, unsure of what she was doing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N climbed over the couch and jumped onto him, tackling him down again. They both rolled around and continued to fight, her threatening him and him taunting her. 

Jeff stood in the kitchen and watched at a distance, sipping his beer.

“They’re really going at it, huh?”

“Fuck!” Jeff jumped and spilled his beer, and looked over to where Clockwork had randomly appeared next to him, and she laughed lightly as he grabbed a towel and cursed her out.

/ᐠ-˕-マ~ master list for...

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 !

《 ♡ 》 𝐣𝐚𝐲

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐝𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐥

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐦𝐚𝐥

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐛𝐞𝐧

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐠𝐢𝐥

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐮𝐦𝐚

nothing here yet :(

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《 ♡ 》 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

nothing here yet :(

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : [active] [hiatus] [offline]

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : [open] [closed]

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 :

idk why some of them have last names and some don't, but if anyone wants to help me find/make up some, I'm open to that :).

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞

Dear God x Ben Shelton

In-short: lovers-to-exes-to-fwb inspired by Dear God from Tate Mcrae (+ a little angst)

Word Count: 6k bc apparently i have too much free time

Warnings: NSFW

Noties: wrote this when the So Close To What album just dropped and i had Dear God on loop. ngl it feels weird to write about Ben now that he has launched his relationship lol, but i digress! i do this for the girlies and the gays.

the story is in 1st POV bc i can never write in 2nd. wattpad did numbers on my back in the day haha. first time writing in a long time, so pls enjoy and lemme know how you like it <3

Author: my twt is @hyunhocrumbs if you wanna be moots >.<

- Dear God - Ben Shelton -

“You’re really red now.”

Coming from the other side of the net, his voice has a hint of enthusiasm interlaced in it. Dear God. I let out an annoyed breath, while my doubles partner, Arthur, chuckled from the baseline.

European clay court season on a late May afternoon felt like an early summer. Our breath was ragged, footsteps heavy and what was supposed to be a simple hit session with two other players had turned into a full practice match. Arthur had insisted we hit with Taylor Townsend and Ben Shelton, although they weren’t even running for mixed doubles in Roland Garros that year.

So, we did, and it was fine. It was casual. Until I saw Ben and the way his eyes twiddled with amusement every time I had something to say. How he strolled into the court, curls bouncing on his head in the humid heat, and nonchalance rolling off his shoulders. How he flew these little playful comments my way and followed through with deep cross shots. 

To me, this was a simple hit session - clean footwork, clean shots. In and out. To him, it was entertainment, amusement, and even a little competition.

Normal baseline hits turned into strong, deep forehands. He was intentional in the way sent the ball flying, wanted to know how well I would take it. How competitive I could get with it.

Once I ignored it. Twice I entertained it. The third time around I let it fly past me and instead approached the net.

He was already grinning. “Sorry ma bad. Need a little break?”

It was funny how our partners were just there. However, I was the only one he was interested in talking with. “Thought this was going to be a hit session.”

Taylor asked if we wanted to switch it up a little. I could already see Arthur jumping in agreement. Ben’s brown eyes were fixed on mine, observing, anticipating. “C’mon, afraid of a little competition?”

Something about how he had said it, the playfulness resting on his tone. That smirk toying at the edge of his lips. It irked something in me.

A practice match has very low stakes. But I liked a good game.

“It’s on then.”

From there it was always on with him– bumping in the player’s lounge, his curls sticking to his forehead and a coy grin on his face when he would congratulate me on my win. The little smirks he threw here and there while passing on the corridor, playful comments about my game and how he could not stop staring when I was playing. The way he would purposefully lean in closer every time we were talking. How I could feel his breath on my cheeks and see his dazzling brown eyes up close playfully staring at me.

Ben made it so easy to like him. He was charming - so awfully charming that he had everyone wrapped around his little finger. He would flash them his gummy smile or his sassy smirk and people would swoon in a puddle. He was soft, witty, funny and so annoyingly aware of what he was doing.

He would joke I’m his lucky charm and manage to bring me up in interviews I was not even part of. Mid-game when I would raise my eyes to the crowd, it was his gaze that would always be following me. 

Ben would search for me right after his matches, head full of damp curls, and his arms still glistening in sweat. Mid-sentence, his shirt would come off and nothing could make me miss his smirk as he would catch my breath hitching.

“I watched your last set today.”

His toned arms would twist and flex as he searched in his bag. “Oh, yeah?”

I rolled my eyes. Dear God.

“Sorry, pretty hot out there.” He would say and not mean it in the slightest. He would look at me as if to let me know that he wanted me to see, wanting me to gauge at him, to play his game.

“You were playing like shit.” I would raise at him.

Pulling the new shirt over his head, he would flash me a mischievous grin. “Wanna give me some private lessons later then?”  

Before I knew it, we were having dinner, sneaking out of hotels late, calling until the sun met us again. I would watch him drown to sleep, his curls covering his features as they softened, exhausted from the intensive training. Watch him again flex his giant limbs lazily and flash me a witty grin in the morning.

He was ferociously flirty and such an incredible sight to see, it was impossible to deal with him. We would rush to one of our hotel rooms right after gym, mouths colliding and hands rushing to touch, to feel. Chuckles and giggles as he would struggle with my sports bra and then hoist me up easily.

Dear God, how I loved feeling his body pressed against mine, skin to skin. How Ben’s soft lips would find my neck, while his fingers trailed my chest to then hook under my knees. How he’d make me see stars like it came easy to him.

Always afterwards, he would hold me there, pressed against him. I’d smile at his silly jokes and tug at the silver chains resting against his chest just to make him go again, and again and again.

There was always breakfast with him, rushed warm hugs at the player’s lounge with him, late nights at masters’ events with him. Bustling through the cameras as we rushed to his car, dodging questions and comments from all sides. It was the way he’d kiss my shoulders and say goodnight. How he would cross continents on his free time just so he could say ‘I love you’ in real life.

A lot of people loved Ben, but at the end of the day, he would only come home to me. It felt addicting to have his smiles and grins all to myself - his soft teasing comments and his stupid dork moments. To have him obsessed with my scent, trailing behind me in everything I did.

“You look gorgeous today.” He’d say and lean it to capture my lips.

I would dodge, smiling at his failed attempt. He would release an exasperated sigh like it hurt him for me to even consider not allowing him a kiss.

“I’ll beat you today. Then, it’ll be more than a kiss that you owe me.” Always a game with him.

But no matter what, he was always there. I remember when I lost one of my biggest finals and how he held me as I could not stop shaking from crying. Roland Garros was supposed to be mine, my first grand slam victory coming home. Yet it slipped out of my grip, and I watched it happen. I couldn’t stop it.

I sat for the debrief, went to the team dinner, had a call with my parents even. I told them I was fine. They saw me angry and frustrated, but my composure was straight, my shoulders squared up and my chin high, unwavering.

Later that night, Ben found me curled up on my hotel room couch. Crouching in front of me, he reached out his hand to trace circles on my cheek. “Hey, love.” It was so soft, so delicate. His eyes knew, and that broke me.

“You can let go now. It’s just me.”

I did. The first tear fell down and then the other. They kept on coming, pouring violently down my face in streams. Ben hugged me tight in his chest, his hands caging me in as my body kept shaking. Pressing his lips against my temples, he let me have it and kept whispering sweet nothings into my ear as I poured out all my vulnerability.

When the crying and shaking stopped about 3 hours later, he had me still in his arms, drying away the tears with his thumb. All I could feel was the warmth of his solid body grounding me as his voice lulled me to sleep.

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That year’s Roland Garros changed everything. I started chasing another grand slam high, while his ego started dangerously brewing. Ben had more titles under his belt, he was getting greedier, his mindset shifting and his competitiveness growing.

There were fewer late-night calls then. Less joint practices. Sometimes I would not hear from him for days. But his charming voice would be all over social media, his laughter light-hearted, gum smile flashing at interviewers. After his matches, he would wink at the front rows filled with girls who adored him; get the crowds to scream his name.

It drove me crazy. Made me feel as if I had something to worry about.

“Didn’t think you’d be so jealous.” He said and I could almost swear to him this was just teasing.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and doing my best not to let my voice rise to levels I would regret. “You were out there forever.”

“I was just signing some stupid tennis balls.” Ben’s hands were already reaching for his tennis bag. His tone unfamiliarly dismissive.

“Well, you could have spent those stupid minutes with me.”

He sighed like this conversation was such a burden to him. “I can’t do this right now; I have to go to physio.”

I heard the door slamming before I could even concoct a retort for him. Ben loved to leave like that. Middle of the conversation, no accountability. Hitting balls was easier than facing responsibilities for him. I’d feel the walls caving in and a tear or two drop. It was exhausting.

He was everywhere on the news, on the court, in the lounges. Just not next to me.

But then he would come around apologising, saying how he would do better, try harder. For us. How his lips would search mine, teasingly at first, but then impatiently, intensely. As if eager to prove that he missed me so much, that he always thought of me. In the shower, in his car, on his bed - moaning my name.

He would pull his shirt off and suddenly I would forget how I cried for hours because he wasn’t there when I won. His lips would trail my neck, and my hands would find their place in between his curls to tug him even closer. As if it would make up for the distance that already existed between us

It grew. It only grew deeper and sharper. We started fighting more. He would lose and we wouldn’t speak for weeks. I would lose and he would be my first target. We would end up slamming the door in each other’s faces after the entire staff and tournament had heard us screaming.

“Can’t you just listen for a moment?” He was pacing in front of me, my legs hurting as I chased him down, the weight of my bags cutting my shoulder.

“I’m not a fucking kid.” Ben hissed.

“Well, fucking act like it then.”  

When he turned around, he was fuming. Chest rising rapidly, his eyes a fire so dangerous. His head dipped as he leaned close to me, and it took all my strength not to push him away.

“You will shut that pretty mouth up right now, Y/N. You’re not my fucking coach, so stop treating me like I’m one of your little projects.”

The door shook from Ben’s forceful impact. A few heads perked around the corner. I couldn’t even blame them for wanting to know. Hot tears streamed down my face and my cries were silent. Muted. I couldn’t even bring my feet to turn away and go somewhere to be alone in peace.

Always, after 15 minutes, he would unlock the door and leave it open so I could shamefully sly into our room. Late at night would be the only times I would feel him again. In all darkness, laying in bed. He would lie down, and I would pretend sleep had already taken me.

The mattress would dip, and his warm breath would send shivers down my spine. I hated it. A beat or two would pass in complete silence. Then I would hear him sigh and feel his lips press tenderly against the skin of my shoulder. I would wait for him to say anything, do anything. Instead, he would roll over, our backs facing each other to wake up to another day fighting.

Not even an ‘I’m sorry, goodnight’ anymore.

Then the Australian Open mixed doubles draw came. Our coaches thought we had a chance at winning. How cruel, to have your distance attempted to be fixed by forced proximity.

Practice started, yet we were still seeing each other less. It was all nerves, fumes, exhaustion. Day in and out. The season was brand new, yet we were already losing it. We would scream at each other like crazy and then fuck numb as if that would fix how fragile our team play was.

R1. Joint effort.

R2. We were tolerating.

The deeper into the draw, the more competitive we started getting. The easier he made it for me to pick at his mistakes, the easier I made it for him to pick apart my confidence. I would savour every moment we were at peace off the court, and that was not a lot – because despite playing doubles, I did not trust him to have my back anymore.

Quarters. We had a close call.

That evening there was no debrief. Just dreaded silence.

There were cameras everywhere on us. Not that they weren’t always, but now there was something special worth watching for them. Two young singles players geared up to make a run for a Grand Slam final. Ben and I were walking on eggshells.

Semis. We had two close calls.

His backhands were hitting the net one after the other. Double faults. He was playing with anger, and I could not tolerate it. I threw irritated glance after irritated glance at him. My volleys marked out. Higher court coverage and we would end up bumping. Moon balls. Dear God, could I not even trust him to play reliable tennis. We barely scraped the last set and yet no one was celebrating. 

Finals.

I breathed his cologne that morning when I walked into the bathroom. I usually let him shower alone now, but today I needed to prove myself something. Ben was lying in the tub, water hiding his body all the way to his chest. His arms spread on the edges, silver chains sticking around his neck. His features were soft, an unreadable expression resting on his face.

His eyes followed me as I closed the door behind and, for a moment, I forgot. The memories, the pain, the screams. The fact that we were aimlessly hunting for a gold trophy. It was just me and Ben. My old Ben.

Crouching next to the tub, I reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Hey there.”

Even now his voice would take my breath away. I stared at him just like I used to stare when he would bump into me on the lounge after my plays. When he would look at me with that stupid grin of his and flirted his way into my lunches and my dinners, my hotel room even.

I sat on my knees and my other hand reached under the water. His breath hitched when he felt me on him. When I started stroking him his eyes were on me. Up and down, feeling him twitch under my touch. His mouth parted a little, his tongue wetting his lips. I looked at Ben as his head leaned back and eyes darted from the ceiling at me.

I would feel him grow hard around my fingers, feel the blood coursing through his length as my pace grew. “God, Y/N.” How I loved it when my name rolled off his tongue like a prayer. He grabbed my other hand, burning my skin with his touch as he brought my fingers to his mouth.

Fuck, how I loved it when he was a mess. When we would do this more often when I would be inside the tub with him, and we would laugh and giggle as I struggled to place my knees somewhere comfortable. How he would look at me like I was the only thing that could fulfil him.

His breath was heavy, chest rising and falling at the pace of my strokes. His moans filling the damp air as with one last stroke, he chased his release with my hand wrapped still around him. Ben relaxed against the tub wall, his body disappearing further underwater. A beat skipped before he moved towards me and gave my shoulder a kiss. “Thank you love.”

He didn’t use to call me love anymore.

I smiled.

He thought this was for him. But this was for me. Because whatever happened on court that day, reminiscing about the past was more secure than worrying about whether we would even survive the future.

Later that night, we lost the Australian Open mixed doubles final. Ending our intense Grand Slam run and together with it, our relationship.

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Two years. In two years, a small knife can turn into a seething sword.

Training, practice, gym, sleep, repeat. There was something so refreshing when your most important point of focus became success.  

Photoshoots, campaigns, new friends.  I was no longer a new kid in the draw. I was a force to be reckoned with.

Porsche, Nike, Cartier.

Glittering image of a new star who cemented her place. Not sharper and reckless. But sharper and brighter. I played with confidence, having conquered the Australian Open a year before. Consistently being in the Top 5. It was ruthless but in a kind way. A motivating way.

I had more control, but less at the same time. Training intensely, practising hard. Then, fooling around. Sometimes.

Two years since the Australian Open mixed doubles final. Two years since I did not see his face, did not hear his voice. This was tennis, a small world, and we were bound to see each other. However, I made sure we wouldn’t.

No social media, no interviews about each other. I blocked not only him but his entire team. When Bryan would walk the corridors, I would only greet and change my way. He understood. There were no mutual friends' hangouts, no funny jokes about getting us back together.

There was no accidental sight in the player’s lounge, at the player’s gym or during hit practice either. My team made sure we wouldn’t even cross paths outside of arenas; far apart hotels, private dinners, and separate transport. The only thing I could not control was the draw. Yet, we found a way to also make that work. Scarcer doubles, and pull-outs when we would be in his and his partner’s quarter. 

He left my life. Yet, we still breathed the same air, and I hated it.

I hated that sometimes his image would burn into the back of my head. How I would curl up after losses and I would wish, even for a little bit, that he was there. How I would sit and think about how he looked now. How his kisses would feel now.

It took only a split second of distraction. Two years and I made no mistakes. One thoughtless decision and we were standing on opposite sides of the net at the US Open mixed doubles semi-final. My team saw us on opposing sides of the draw. We didn’t give it a second thought. There was no way he would make it that far.

But one thing about Ben is that that lucky bastard can crawl his way up in incredibly disadvantageous situations. Next thing I knew, it was afternoon in New York, and I was preparing to return his serve.

I tried not to stare. Not to seem taken aback by how much he had changed. How he had grown bigger, stronger. His shoulders lean and sculpted. His black ON shirt clung to his figure for life, emphasising his every curve, every muscle. His legs moved at a speed I had never seen before.

Ben would hit his cross forehand with a precision that made it hard to even reach for a return. My backhand was spectacular, but he knew how to go deep and fast on a new level. He had gotten quicker, swifter, more intelligent and more precise.

While I was too busy reminiscing the old Ben, this Ben in front of me was hitting winners like it was his pastime. I could not read him. But I decided I didn’t need to. On the second set, Carlos and I started advancing with confidence. While Ben’s forehand might have gotten sharper, so did my backhand and my drop shots.

He would cross and I would return with equal loathing. Carlos would volley back to Iga and we would go into long, intense volley-rallies like psychos. Crazy shots and crazier saves. Push and pull. Running cross-court like every point was a match point for all of us.

The game lasted 2h and 49 min. Three sets, all three tiebreakers. By the end of it, all four of us were breathing like madmen.

Carlos was sprawled on the court floor, while I was resting my forehead on my racket, barely being able to focus. Sweat dripped from my forehead as I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. On the other side of the court, Ben and Iga were equally exasperated. Both panting as they hugged each other for the last time on their run.

Carlos and I had scraped the victory narrowly.

The crowds were roaring. This was tennis, this was fire and passion and high-level performance.

Carlos got up and I followed his suit to the net. I hugged Iga, still unable to regulate my breathing. She had been phenomenal. Carlos then reached for her, and I went behind him. It had been 2 years. I could be civil. I had to be civil.

I looked up at him with my face burning, and my heartbeat drummed in my ears again. Dear God, how much he had changed. Ben’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cheeks red and his damp curls sticking all over his forehead. When we shook hands, his fingers brushed against my wrist.

His eyes lingered on me for a second too long. Why was he always like this?

Carlos and I waved at the crowd and approached the interviewer. My eyes were on the camera, yet my mind was holding on to the image of the man I was meeting for the first time in two years. I could only hope his eyes were lingering on me too.

But the adrenaline of the match did not stop there. We had played like crazy, given it our all. I was on the bike, yet I felt like I could go another time. My heart was pounding, my thoughts were racing. Cross backhand, then drop-shot. Carlos’  volleys. Iga’s dunk. Neutral rally. My backhand again.

Ben’s forehand. Ben’s arms. Ben’s curls. Ben’s lips. Volley. Volley. Volley.

I cursed under my breath. Fuck. I was going too fast even on the bike. When we went back to change and debrief, my legs were still restless, my mind still racing, my feet still pacing. My blood was coursing through my veins like I was running in the woods.

I made my way to the players’ lounge for dinner. Another thoughtless decision. He was there - of course, he was there. Sitting next to Iga and across from his team. His hair was still wet from the shower. Someone must have said a joke as he threw his head back grinning.

The morning of the Australian Open mixed doubles finals ran through my brain. Dear God!

Our last time together, and the first time I craved him like a crazy woman.

I was staring at him like a hawk, yet he didn’t even bother to spare me a thought. I even walked directly next to him to get to the food line, yet he did nothing. Didn’t stare, didn’t look. Didn’t even turn his head.

My legs sped past his table. I didn’t hear his breath get caught up like mine did. I didn’t even know what I needed from him - to look at me, to acknowledge me? To tell me he sent all those forehands my way with persistence because he wanted to prove a point?!

It felt infuriating to be upped by a man who did not spare me two cents of his undivided attention.

Back to the hotel corridor, my mind was racing. I was sprinting to my room. Struggling to get rid of this feeling, of this match. I needed to rest. I need to forget this. Pump this out. I had a final coming up and I was going to win it.

Until I saw him. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall next to my room. The dim lights cast shadows on his face as he played with his feet. I stopped dead in my tracks near him. It was 11 pm. Why was he here? 

He was biting his lip as he looked up at me and it took me a second to gather myself. I began walking past him while he silently followed me with his eyes as I made my way to my door.

“Hey.”

I stopped. 11 pm after our mixed doubles semis match. 11 pm after nearly 3h of hell. My heartbeat was up in my ears again. My thoughts were racing like a tornado. One thoughtless decision and we were on opposite sides of the net. One thoughtless decision and he was at my door at 11 pm.

I swallowed and looked up at him. How his shoulders had widened, how his jaw had sharpened, his lower fade and his curls pouring over his forehead.

“Ben…”

His fingers circled against my wrist. The way they did at the end of the match. His eyes lingered on my face and then on my lips. My eyes darted to his silver chains, to the way his chest rose and fell. To his eyes, searching - thinking of a way to stop this.

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

What’s one more thoughtless decision?

His lips crashed down on me. My back hit the door. At first, his kisses were lingering, full but tentative. As if searching to make sure I was here for them, the way he was here for me. He was barely doing anything, and I was already suffocating. My hands reached for his silver chains, and I tugged at them urging him closer.

It sent him feral.

His kisses were not caressing anymore. They were devouring. He was aggressive and confident and rough. Just like he had been on court today. Ben kissed me like I was his last breath, like he had meant it for a long time. His hands were already everywhere, touching, grabbing with intensity. My eyes fluttered shut, my heartbeat rising to my ears again as I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me.

Two years and this man was starving.

We barely made it to my bed before both of us were stark naked. My back tattoo flashed in the mirror, and I knew his eyes caught it. I knew he would love it, would go crazy for it. He traced it with his fingers, his touch burning every single piece of my body like it was hell. I savoured the sight of him like I would no longer see the light of day. 

There was no fiddling, no giggling. Just pure commitment to this. To this bit, to burning whatever this was off.

Dear God, how much I had craved this Ben.  

The one whose lips touched in all the right places. The one whose movements were fuelled, demanding. Hands pushing my thighs apart without a doubt that this is what I wanted. His hot mouth leaving bite marks up my tits and my neck. His breathy grunts filled my ears as my nails dug into his back to pull him impossibly closer.

It was maddening. Whatever this was that we were getting off our chest, whatever we couldn’t say out loud, it was excruciating. Pushing us further, deeper. Dear God, I didn’t want him to stop.

He fucked like a man now. His body all muscle, hard like an anchor. He made me see stars. Fucked me until I went numb. Fucked me like he meant every single thrust.

In. Out.

In. Out

In. “Ben!”

Out. “Oh, fuck, like that yeah.”

Then, we did it again the next day after I won the final. And the tournament after that. And the one after that.

It became our new routine. No commitment, no complications. Just the man I used to be in love with buried deep inside me every now and then. Then, silence. Radio silence. Then he would reach out again. Sex on his car. Sex on my shower.

God knows, I left Christianity a long time ago, but he’d bring me to my knees in one breath.

How I would milk him dry. How he would breathe against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You take me so good.”

How he would fit in me like he belonged there.

How Ben would go down on me in the middle of the room, let me ride his face until I could take it no more. His pace would tear me to pieces. Stronger. Rougher. Deeper. How he would press his hand against my lower belly while I took him just so he could feel himself in me. 

His name would roll off my tongue like a charm. My name would hitch in his breath like a curse. Dear God, how I hated to admit that I missed him like this. I liked him like this. When he was in between my legs, in the locker room, and we’d grunt as I took him full. When we would sneak out so I could feel his lips on mine. It was almost fun.

No love and it was almost working.

Almost.

Because at times, I’d fall asleep to the warmth of his chest and his arms wrapped around me, and wake up to the coldness of the reality that he was not mine. That this was a temporary fixture. Two athletes pumping out adrenaline. It was convenient.

Yet when he’d stay, I would be lying if I said a part of me was a little bit happier. He’d kiss my forehead like it was second nature and cook us breakfast because now he was not so terrible at it. We would joke around, fool around. I’d even wear his shirts again.

He’d flirt his way into my bed as if I wasn’t already waiting for him to consume me.

No one knew. No one needed to know. There were no cameras because this was no longer a love story. This was meant for the backstage, for the locker room where we would sweat it out, high on the adrenaline of getting caught.

In the player’s lounge, we would not even spare a glance at each other. Tables apart, separate entries and exits. No interactions, no unnecessary shared spaces. I hated him in public and moaned his name in private.

No love, and it was almost working.

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As the new season started, our old habits stayed. It was hotel room after hotel room. Silence. Sneaking out. But now, there was not just sex. I’d run to Ben whenever things became too much. He’d hide in my arms whenever his losses would weigh his shoulders down.

It became intoxicating, how I would wait for him to show up and wish for him to stay after - stay longer. This was convenience, yet I conveniently wanted him next to me at all times. “No one else makes me feel like this.” He’d whisper into my hair, and I would almost believe him.

It was fine.

Apart from when I would see his face plastered on social media with a new girl he was talking to. Flirting with, charming his way into whatever he wanted with her. It was fine. Apart from the drop in my stomach - how I felt a little sick, a little pissed, and a lot of anger.

So much for someone who wasn’t even mine.

Later when he’d show up to my room, it was ice waiting for him. “Not tonight, I’m not in the mood.”

Ben would raise an eyebrow. Rolling the leather jacket off his shoulders, he’d approach my bed in slow strides. “Is that so?”

I would barely look up from my phone from where I was sitting. “Thought you had company tonight.”

He would smirk, his eyes glinting with confidence. His hands would snake around my bare legs while his lips left an unforgiving trail up my thighs. Slow, measured, tempting. It would stop right before it reached my core. Ben would rest his face in between my legs and look up. “You know…in you is the only place I belong.”

Fuck him. It was the way he would say it, with such ease, with that raspy breath and glinting playful eyes.

“Then show me.”

It was all he always needed. He’d take me like he was starved. Put my panties away and eat me until my body was shaking. I’d fist his pretty curls, and his name would roll off my tongue like a prayer.

After Miami Open that year, we didn’t see each other for long. No sight of him with only a towel, water droplets decorating his glazed skin and tight pecks. Couldn’t feel his back muscles flexing at my every touch. His shoulder was not there for me to cry on when I felt exhausted. His lips could not soothe my nerves away.

It was fine. It didn’t matter. That he wasn’t calling or texting. Radio silence was usual for us.

“You look like you’re about to scream.” My physio said handing me a bottle full of electrolytes.

“I am not?!” I scoffed at her while downing the liquid all at once, almost too fast.

She shook her head. “Has that boy still not texted you yet?”

I shrugged, maintaining a calm expression. “Does it matter?”

“Y/N, do you miss him?”

“What?”

She was looking straight at me. “I said do you miss him? Because last time you told me this was not serious.”

“It’s not.” I answered almost too quickly.

My physio did not seem convinced. I did not like where this was going with her. “Yet, here you are checking your phone every 5 minutes. Make sure that boy does not ruffle your feathers too much.”

“He doesn’t, don’t worry.” I smiled, tight-lipped.

I didn’t miss him. My brain was simply just burning with the memory of us pressed together, his lips smiling against mine. How he’d use to whisper sweet nothings into my ear for me to fall asleep. The faint smell of cologne that Ben would spray right after a shower.

Dear God, I hope it ain’t him I’m missing. Just his body and his touch and his voice. It hadn’t even been that long since…

Strong arms wrapped around me, and I felt the notes of cedarwood in the air. “Hey, baby.”

Fuck.

Dear God, I hope you’re listening.

Crazy Little Thing Called Life

*Yes I know it’s not a gif, but just keep this picture in mind since he wears this outfit in this chapter when they gO oUt*

A/N: So, this is chapter six, wow. I said I was going to post this chapter on Tuesday but I got lazy and decided to wait until now. My friend/editor, wasn’t able to help me edit this one so there might be some mistakes I missed. Oops I guess. Also it’s like 11 pm here so i’m tired. ugh. but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! Bye for now! :]

~with lots of love, Jazzman~

Summary: A road trip/vacation between two old friends turn into something more(basic plot but whateva)

Song: Senorita by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello 

Pairing: Ben x Reader

Word Count: 5032

Warnings: Language, mentions of underage drinking and alcohol, horrible writing skillsss

If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

*Reblogs/asks/opinions are always appreciated!*

Ch. 6: So Fine Red Wine

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     It was SUPPOSED to be a small nap that was SUPPOSED to last an hour or two. But nope, you and Ben ended up sleeping in until five. Ben this time, was the first to wake up, he had looked over to the clock on his phone and realized how long both of you slept in. He wanted the two of you to go out and have some fun tonight now that you both were old enough to. Ben was old enough to drink but you, you weren’t allowed to drink since you were only eighteen. 

     Ben stumbled off the bed to the bathroom, he didn’t wake you because he wanted to get in the shower before since you always took forever when you got in first. He didn't know if it was to just piss him off or if you actually took that long. Either way, he quickly took a shower and quickly got back out. He didn't want it to be too late when you guys go out. 

     When Ben walked out of the bathroom, all he had was his towel around his waist. His hair was still damp and hanging in front of his face. He decided to walk over to your side of the bed and wake you up. At first you didn’t want to get up and you threw your arm over your eyes to try and cover your face. Ben was not having it today with you. He scooped you up bridal style and threw you back on the bed again. He thought that maybe this would wake you up enough to get you going. And it did, just a little bit though. You groaned at the sudden awakening and accidentally rolled off the other end of the bed. With a loud thud, you just laid on the floor in pain from the sudden drop. 

     Ben waltzed over to his closet that was directly in front of you and closed the door. You laid face flat on the floor until Ben peeked his head out and said “Y/n, go get in the shower. We’re gonna leave in an hour or two, love.” After he said that, he closed the door and resumed getting dressed. 

     “Why? Where are we going?” You stumbled up and off the floor until you held onto Ben’s bed side counter for support. You made your way into the bathroom and closed the door. Ben came out of the closet in some basketball shorts and a t-shirt since he wanted to get dressed later. 

     “We’re going to go out and it’s a surprise!” Ben said from outside of the bathroom door. The hot water against your skin was just enough to get you to start going and process everything. Where was Ben taking you exactly? You mind started to wander until you forgot that you had to hurry. You finished taking a shower and instead of going out through Ben’s bathroom door, you went through yours and into your room. You knew you didn’t have to leave until an hour or so, so you throw on some booty shorts and a tank top for now. You walk into Ben’s room through the bathroom once again and flop back onto his bed next to where he was sitting. 

     “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in your own bed?” Ben asked as he turned his head over to look at you. 

     “Stop questioning my every move, Mr. Jones” You sat back up next to him on the edge of the bed. “Plus, where are you taking me? Are you gonna kidnap me?”

     “No, I’m not kidnapping you, sweetheart! I’m just taking you to have some fun and to loosen up a bit.” 

     “Soooooooooo, what exactly is your plan?” You eyed him very carefully. Wondering what exactly was going on in that mind of his. 

     “You’ll find out later, just wear something nice.”

     “When you mean nice, do you mean formal nice or slutty nice? ‘Cause I can do both.” 

     “Well, go with slutty nice.” Ben said as he wiggled his eyebrows. “We’re going out on the town, not to the Oscars.”

     “You will one day Benny Boy. Your acting skills will take you somewhere!” Ben was amazing at acting. He would practice lines with you for plays in school and he took drama. Ben really could places with a career in acting. 

     “WE will someday, you will be my little tag-a-long partner.” Damn, Ben just friendzoned you into the future. You weren’t going to be his date, no, his little tag-a-long partner. You weren’t going to lie and say that didn’t hurt a little. At least he sees you in his future. Maybe you were over exaggerating a little bit. 

     “Sorry Benny Boy but I’m trying to settle down with a family. I’m not going to be partying all my life.” The expression in Ben’s face shifted for a second. You couldn’t make it out what is was. His expression went dull until he plastered on a fake smile. 

     “Of course, I want to but I can still go to award ceremonies now and then.” Ben started to fiddle with his thumbs. You didn’t mean to upset him. You didn’t even know he was upset, he was just emotionless, really. You leaned over Ben to grab his phone and checked the time. It was already 6:30 and you wanted to have enough time to get ready. 

     “Well, I’m gonna start getting ready. What time do you want to leave by Ben?” You asked as you stood up from the bed. 

     “We’ll leave around 7:30 or 8,” Ben said as he looked over to you, you were about to head over to your room before Ben called for you. “Hey Y/n?”

     You turned around to face him. “Yes Ben?”

     He tried to force the question out of his mouth but nothing came out. He couldn’t get the courage to ask you. “Nevermind.” 

     You turned back around and walked into your room to find a dress for the night. Ben closed his door and fell back onto his bed with a huff. Will he ever be able to ask? Probably not. 

     Once you got back into your room, you had to decide on a dress for the night. Maybe Ben was going to take you to your first club, or maybe a party. You don’t know so you go through your late night/club dresses. These are usually the type of dresses you wouldn’t wear to something formal. You went through them until you found it. The pearly white, silk dress you had recently just bought. You thought it would be nice enough for tonight at the least. You put it on your bed for now while you try to decide on what shoes would go with it. Which you ended up picking these white stiletto heels that you’ve never worn before. Now all you had to do was get dressed, you wanted to do your hair and makeup after. 

     After slipping on the dress, you stood in front of your dresser and used the mirror on top to do your makeup. Which didn’t take that long to your surprise. You checked your phone and realized it was already 7:30, you didn’t have time to curl your hair, so instead you just fluffed it out and kept it down. You grabbed your purse, finally put on the heels and walked over to Ben’s room, you knocked on the door. 

     “I’ll be out in a second!” Ben yelled back from behind the closed door. Instead of waiting for him, you made your way downstairs and into the kitchen. Your uncle must have some booze in here somewhere. You searched through the cabinets but couldn’t find any. Maybe your Uncle was really an old man now and didn’t drink alcohol anymore. What you didn’t notice was Ben coming down the stairs as you raided the kitchen. You huffed in frustration, you knew damn well you wouldn’t be getting alcohol tonight unless Ben bought you some and even then that was an obstacle. 

     “Didn’t find what you were looking for sweetheart?” You jumped at Ben’s low and husky sudden voice coming from behind you. 

     “Nope. You ready?” You said hastily as you turned around and grabbed your phone from the counter. As you did that, your eyes got caught on Ben. He looked amazing, he had a white shirt with a jet black jacket to cover it and some jeans. How did he look so goddamn good in everything? 

     “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” He said as he dangled the keys and headed over to the front door. You followed quickly behind him but these heels were making it ten times more difficult than it had to be. You closed the door behind you and made your way to the car. Now was the difficult part, climbing into the truck. You weren’t going to stress about it too much, so you just took off both heels and climbed in bare foot. Ben turned over to you and laughed as you climbed in. 

     “I would like to see you walk in heels, Benny Boy.” You huffed as he started up the car. 

     “We both know how bad that would be, love.” He said as he backed out onto the street. And then you both were off to who knows where…

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     You were right, Ben was taking you to a club. It was packed with people but luckily Ben could easily make his way through the crowd with you holding onto his hand for dear life. You knew if you let go, you would never be able to find him again. He finally stopped at a booth in the back corner of the room. It looked like it would usually be used for more people or a group of friends but whatever. All of the neon lights were slowly but surely getting to you and the air was stuffy from all of the people in the nightclub. It was scary for you and you would never forget this night. Everybody was sweaty from all of the body heat and the dancing. Fuck, you were even sweating too and when you glanced over at Ben, he seemed totally chilled. And of course you have to remember that Ben has gone to a club before since he’s well over eighteen. Ben catches you staring at him from the corner of his eye. He could tell you were tense. 

     “Hey, how about we go and dance for a bit?” He said as he grabbed your hand from across the table. You nodded and headed to the dance floor with him. Dancing in heels wasn’t easy but you made it work and sure, your dress was a bit short but who cares! Tonight was going to be a fun night. The nightclub that you were at didn’t play any of the classic rock or oldies that you listened to but they did play some really good songs that you liked. Like the one that was playing now. 

               I love it when you call me senorita 

             I wish I could pretend I didn’t need ya

               But every touch is ooh la la la

                         It’s true, la la la

                  Ooh, I should be running

             Ooh, you keep me coming for you

     Throughout the whole song, it was just you and Ben, nobody else in the room mattered. Dancing your hearts out with each other, grind up against each other, neither one of you were even a tad bit tipsy yet and here you were dancing like crazy. This lasted for a good while until your feet started to hurt and you made your way back to the table and took off the white heels. Your feet were so sore from all of the movement, it hurt like a bitch. It’s been a while since the last time you wore heels. Ben finally made his way back to the table once he realized you were gone. He was dying of thirst and sweating like a maniac. He didn’t want this night to ever be over and neither did you. 

     “I’m gonna go get us something to drink, love.” He says as he stands up. “Don’t go anywhere with anyone, especially a guy.” 

     “Okay.” You didn’t argue with Ben because you didn’t want to get lost with some stranger in the club. You wouldn’t know what to do or where to go anyways. You pull out your phone and decide to go through your feed until Ben got back which was taking forever. You didn’t know if Ben was going to bring you back alcohol or something plain like water. But someone beat him to it. 

     “Hey girly. What you doing here all alone?” The guy was heavily drunk and you could tell from the heavy smell of alcohol on his breath. 

     “Just waiting for a friend to get back.” You told him back, not making eye contact. He seemed to have gotten closer than he was before. 

     “Well, my friends decided to leave me hanging around here and I was wondering if you would want to get something to drink, you know?” He said as he put out his hand for you to grab which you obviously didn’t. 

     “No, actually I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” You turned your head back down to phone. Not realizing that the guy’s face turn red in embarrassment. Or anger. 

     “Fine then bitch. Be that way.” He said as he walked away back to his group of friends who had “left” him. You weren’t even being rude and he took it the wrong way. You shrugged it off until Ben plopped back down in the booth on the other side of the table. 

     “Hey love? You alright? Saw that wanker come over here.” Ben handed you your drink which was just a plain ol’ beer just like Ben’s. 

     “I’m fine, he just got mad when I turned him down on an offer to get something to drink. Can you believe he called me a bitch? Unbelievable!” You weren’t really angry at the guy, maybe you came off a bit rude but he didn’t need to act like a big baby. You took your first sip of your drink and of course, you felt that sudden burn in the back of your throat but after a while you get used to it. When you had your first drink of alcohol, ever, you almost gagged at the sensation. You hated it at first but got used to it and liked the taste of it. 

     “Bloody twat.” Ben said under his breath as he looked over to the guy across the room. But of course you heard it anyways. But you didn’t care, it’s not like Ben would just get up and go fight somebody. You were usually the hot headed one, so it took you a lot of guts to not punch the guy right in the nose. 

     You had gotten suspended once during sophomore year for getting into a fight with a junior, but you had a good reason. She had just came up out of nowhere and started being a bitch. So you had to put her in her place and you beat the shit out of her. Luckily, she never bothered you again. Nobody ever did. 

     “Well Benny Boy, how long do you plan on staying here for? And what exactly do you do at clubs?” You honestly were curious since you had no idea. 

     “Usually it’s more fun with more friends and we just hang out, talk, and fuck around for a bit.” He said as he made a hand gesture to the basically empty booth. He has a point though, it would be more fun if your friends from school would’ve came with. 

     “Well then, I guess we just gotta make some new friends!” You really do want to make more friends but Ben was always the more quiet one and liked to keep his personal business between himself and you. Unlike him, you were outgoing and talked A LOT, you were the extrovert of the group. You missed your big group of friends but Ben was all you needed to survive. 

     “Maybe another time though. I kinda wanna go home and relax love.” And you nodded in agreement, you didn’t need to make friends right this second but it will happen soon. You were determined. He got up and out of the booth to help you out. He knew those heels were a pain in the ass for you. He lend you a hand out of the booth and back through the club. When you reached the parking lot, you took off your heels and sprinted towards the truck, you almost ran into it from how fast you were going. Ben unlocked the car and you instantly open the door and hopped in with ease. Even though you were tired as hell from dancing, you were somewhat wide awake. Ben climbed into the driver's seat and put his head against the steering wheel. He let out a sigh of breath. 

     “You alright Ben?” 

     “Just tired Y/n.” He lifted his head up and gave you a warm smile as he started up the car. 

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     You both ended up racing each other into the house and up to Ben’s room. He won by merely a second because you tripped over one stair step and tripped causing him to get the lead. When he stopped in his room, he headed for his closet before you came running in and landed on his bed. This was just a routine now to take over Ben’s bed. He didn’t care, as long as you made room for him too. Ben had grabbed out a pair of shorts and whatever for himself and went into the bathroom to change. This is your time to go back there and find Ben’s diary or journal, whatever he calls it. You dash in there and find the clothes you had on earlier when you were playing dress up, you officially named it the Bumblebee collection. And of course you were going to wear it again for comfort and fAsHiOn. But your main priority was to find his diary, you went straight to his sock drawer and started digging through it. But nothing, it wasn’t there anymore, maybe he hid it somewhere else. You were going to look some more until you heard someone clear their throat. Damn it, it was Ben.

     “You looking for something sweetheart?” Ben was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his bare chest. 

     “I was just looking for some socks to match with my Bumblebee outfit actually…” You sucked at lying and he knew it. 

     “Mhm, sure, just make sure you don’t leave a mess when your done.” He walked away to who knows where. You sat on the floor in defeat, he knew you went through his stuff so he hid it somewhere, but where? Whatever, you’ll find it a different time. For now, you had to get dressed. You kicked Ben out of the bathroom and switched into Ben’s clothes. 

     Once you were done, you opened the door and told Ben that he could come in now. You were so tired from the night that you didn’t even feel like washing your makeup off. Luckily, you had a bestfriend who had learned your entire nighttime routine in case of something like this. Ben sat you on top of the counter in front of the mirror. He pulled out your makeup wipes and started rubbing the makeup off your face. He looked completely concentrated on cleaning your makeup off, that his face was kind of scaring you. But as you start to look at him some more, he didn’t look concentrated, he looked like he was thinking of something or having thought bubbles as you called them. 

     “What you thinking about Ben?” You wanted to break the silence between the two of you, you wanted him to talk to you. 

     “Nothing…” But you knew he was lying, he always tried to lie with you but you always knew when he was lying. He never could get away with it. But you didn’t want to bug him right now. 

     “Okay.” Ben had finished up on your nighttime routine and even decided to put your hair into a messy bun for you. He really was an amazing person and you don’t know what you would do without him, if you were being completely honest with yourself. Oh, but Ben wasn’t done with you yet. You hopped off the counter and were about to head to your room until Ben dragged you down stairs into the living room. He had set up a perfect movie night with you, he knew you were going to go to sleep in your room (or his room for a matter of fact) for all of eternity so instead he brought you out here to hang out. There was hot tea and biscuits on the coffee table which were always your favorite, a big bowl of popcorn, and the two blankets your grandma had given you on the couch. Ben really out did himself with all of this, you didn’t even know what to say. Your mouth was wide open in shock but Ben took it the wrong way. 

     “If it’s too much, I ca-”

     “Benny, this is perfect…” You were so excited and couldn’t believe that he did this. “You did this for me?”

     “Yeah, I wanted to make you feel better after what happened tonight love.” You let your feet guide you to the couch and snuggle up into the warm blankets. After Ben got settled in, you laid against his side and slid under his arm so he could hold you. Ben was your safe place to go, his touches were a sense of safety to you. He was like your little bodyguard, he would protect you at any cost and anytime, no matter the situation. He’s told you this many, many times before. 

     An hour had passed and both you and Ben were relaxed and comfortable. You didn’t want this moment of snuggling to end, you didn’t want to leave his side. He brought so much warmth to your body and god, he looked absolutely divined. His hair falling in all the right places, his warm, angelic smile, and his touch. Oh god, with his arm wrapped around your waist, you felt like you were in heaven with his touch. You had your head laid against his bare chest that had gotten so toned from playing soccer. His hand was like holding your waist in place so you couldn’t leave. Not that you were anytime soon. 

     The movie had just ended and now it was just silence, both you were wide awake and there was nothing else to do. That was until Ben got up and made his way toward the kitchen. He called back after him.

     “Hey love? You want something to drink?” Instead of replying back like you usually do, you just got up and followed him into the kitchen. You didn’t want any water or anything because you were wanting some nice ass wine to down your problems away. But the problem was, was that your Uncle doesn’t have any alcohol and you weren’t about to make Ben go get you some at 11 at night. Ben looked around the kitchen to find the cups and he did after five minutes of being absolutely confuzzled. 

     “You never answered my question, so I’m just going to give you what I’m getting.” He said as he pulled something from the top cabinet, the one cabinet you didn’t check since you were too short. And out he pulled a bottle of red wine, not even opened yet. You walked around Ben to look into the cabinet but still you weren’t able to reach or see into it. Damn, you didn’t think you were that short. You placed your hands on the cool countertop and pushed yourself up until you could get both knees on. From that point, you stood up and looked into the cabinet area and come to find that your Uncle had stashed all of his alcohol in this one cabinet. He had liquor to whiskey and rum in there, basically drunken heaven. You were about to grab another bottle of wine but before you could, Ben wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you down like a toddler going through something they shouldn’t. 

     “Heyyy, I was gonna get another bottle. Bennnnnn.” You whined as he placed you back onto the tile floor of the kitchen. 

     “We’re not trying to make you pass out, just something to start the night sweetheart.” Ben said as he handed you your glass of wine. You pouted at him until you took a sip and realized that if you did grab that bottle, it would have been over in an hour. Alcohol isn’t your strong suit, sure, your stomach could handle it pretty well but your emotions and mind couldn’t. Your emotions always were wack when you drink and your mind wasn’t able to comprehend things clearly when you’ve had too much. Sometimes you spilled a little too much when you were drunk. And Ben knew that. 

     “Since we didn’t get to finish earlier.” 

     “Fair enough, but I am gonna grab that bottle down later, just for your information, Mr. Jones.” 

     “We’ll see about that Mrs. Jones.” Ben said with ease as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. For now, you’ll ignore it and move on. Your trying your hardest to not fall for him, you couldn’t lose him to your emotions. 

     “Well, can I have some now, Benny?” You gave him the puppy eyes so maybe he’ll hurry up ‘cause you were becoming impatient. 

     “Of course love, just don’t drink it too quickly.” He warned as he grabbed the bottle and his glass and brought it to the dining table. You followed suit behind him but sat on the other side of the table. 

     Now was the fun part, to get absolutely wasted, at least for you. Ben probably couldn’t say the same since he doesn’t get shitfaced after just a couple of glasses like you. You both loved red wine though, it was something you shared in common when it came to the adult world. When Ben finally turned twenty one, and was legally allowed to drink and buy alcohol, it was an advantage to you. You were still eighteen and underage to drink but people didn’t need to know that. Ben would supply you with the goods, except sometimes he would cut you off when it got too much. Sure, you shouldn’t be drinking underage but it’s not like any other eighteen year olds didn’t. Besides, who cares? Not you. 

     At this point both of you were completely shitfaced and drunk. You definitely grabbed the second bottle and it made things way worse. Now you both were just rambling on about stuff from high school. 

     “So, your telling me that you had a crush on…” Ben tried to complete his sentence but almost failed. He really did have a lot to drink. “My teammate when we were Juniors? Caleb? Really? Could’ve done better sis.”

     “Ew, don’t EVER say sis again!” You laughed as you sipped some of your wine. You always liked wine glasses because they made you feel fancy in a way. 

     “I’m just saying.” Ben raised his arms and hands up in defense. 

     “It was just a small crush, calm down.” You rolled your eyes at him and started to giggle uncontrollably. “Ok, maybe it wasn’t a small crush but it didn’t last long!”

     “Sure Sweetheart, just keep telling yourself that.” 

     “You still gotta tell me who you had a crush on!” 

     “I gotta think, I don’t just fall for anybody.” And Ben wasn’t lying, he was a tough little prick when it came to dating. He always seemed to pick the not so hoe-y ones which was a good thing. His shortest relationship was ten months, he really knew his girls. You on the other hand, had a little trouble with the boys. You kept getting played over and over again, your longest relationship was six months. They never wanted anything serious and it always broke your heart. Poor Ben had to take care of you until you got over them which got easier as you got played multiple times. At least he was there for you. 

     “Oh, I got one! Rebecca, the only reason I liked her was because she was hot.” 

     “You liked bitchy Rebecca from the cheerleader sQuAd? Ew, even I did better.” You scrunch up your nose at that thought of Ben liking HER. She was a spoiled brat and always picked on some poor kid. 

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. It only lasted for like a week or two.” And by the end of that conversation, the second bottle of wine was gone. Maybe it was time to chill for a bit and get some sleep. You both downed the two bottles so fast, that it was a bit shocking. And honestly you were tired and needed some rest from everything that happened today. 

     “Hey Ben?” You yawned as you got up from the dining table. 

     “Yeah, love?” 

     “I think, I think I’m gonna go to bed now.” You walked over to the kitchen and placed your glass in the sink and filled it with water. 

     “Ok, I’ll clean up here and I’ll be up there in a bit.” He picked up his cup and the last empty wine bottle. You made your way up the stairs, even though you tripped over some steps several times. Maybe you were completely shitfaced, who knows? You treaded your way up to your room until you pushed open the door and plopped onto the soft bed. You wiggled your way under the covers and passed out without a worry as to what was going to happen in the next couple of weeks to come. 

     Oh you poor, poor girl.

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Taglist: 

@luvborhap 

Crazy Little Thing Called Life

*If this is your gif, tell me so I can credit you properly!*

A/N: This isn’t even that long and it took me forever to write it. I had a friend’s birthday vacation to go to so I couldn’t work on it for three days! My friend who’s helping me edit it, told me to not give up on the story cause I was kinda worrying like, do people not like it? Is this a stupid idea? I don’t know but I almost gave up but no, I will promise to finish the story with all of my heart! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! BYEEEE :]

~with lots of love, Jazzman~

Summary: A road trip/vacation between two old friends turns into something more(basic plot but whateva)

No songs todayyyy

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word Count: 4741

Warnings: Language, hehehe some tiny fluff thrown in, and horrible writing skills :)

If you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

*Reblogs/asks/opinions are always appreciated!*

Ch. 5: Pancakesss

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     The next hour or so (you weren’t really paying attention at this point) went by okay. It could’ve gone faster but it wasn’t too slow. Most of the ride anyway, was just you and Ben jamming out to music. You and Ben both had a similar taste in music. You both liked the oldies but couldn’t stay away from some of the more popular music now. When you both weren’t jamming out, you would be grubbing on food over in the back. Of course you had to bring your trail mix because trail mix slaps. Ben just decided to bring some chips because he said that raisins are gross, especially mixed with salted peanuts. He was so goddamn picky that it got on your nerves sometimes. Like who would turn down a perfectly good bag of trail mix? Which ultimately lead to your next argument. 

     “Trail mix is the superior snack, it has saltiness from the peanuts, sweetness from the M&M’s, and the raisins just add more fucking flavor! Mr. Jones, you are in the wrong here!” You looked over at him for his response. 

     “The peanuts are okay, but it just doesn’t mix with M&M’s because who likes salty chocolate? And who even likes RAISINS?!”

     “Actually, get your facts straight sir, many people like salty chocolate. Also I LIKE RAISINS! I’M LIVING PROOF!” 

     “Your not a fucking raisin, Y/n.” Ben rolled his eyes at you but looked back towards the road because it was getting pretty dangerous now that you were driving through the mountains. 

     “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!” You huffed in frustration. “What’s so great about your cHiPs that make it so much better compared to my trail mix? Hmmmmmm?” 

     “Chips are just an easier snack, dear.”

     “The fuck you mean EaSiEr?” 

     Ben sighed. “I mean more portable and they don’t make such a mess with the chocolate melting and they just taste better.” 

     “Point not proven. Trail mix is superior, end of story.” You turned back to your trail mix and continued eating. 

     You hated driving through the mountains because it terrified you. Everything about it was scary. The fact that if you made one wrong turn you could plummet to your ultimate death, that you were scared of heights, and that rocks could just come tumbling down at any moment. Which is why Ben tried to distract you from it because he knew that you would have a panic attack. It’s happened before. It was on a family trip to California with Ben’s family, of course, and you started having a mental breakdown and started hyperventilating. Poor Ben had seen it happen so many times to the point that he knows exactly what to do if it ever happened again. 

     Luckily though, you were okay this time which was weird. You weren’t about to go into full freak out mode. You felt… fine. You snuggled into Ben’s sweater some more and laid back to relax. Before you knew it, you passed out. 

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     When you finally woke up, you weren’t in the mountain range anymore. You were on your way to your Uncle’s house. Driving through the big neighborhood and streets. The streets were really confusing. Ben looked like he didn’t know where he was going. Luckily, you had already pulled out your phone to use the GPS. If you didn’t, you both would have been lost in the never ending streets and houses. Ben pulled up into your Uncle’s driveway and parked. The house was huge, at least 2 stories tall. You’ve been here before when you were like five but you can’t remember much. And everything you did remember was mostly a blur. Your thoughts were cut short when Ben called from outside the SUV to get out or at least hand him the keys to get in. 

     You grabbed the keys, jumped out of the car and sprinted over to the front door where Ben was. You ran through the grass and up the porch steps until you were face to face with the door. You were way too excited for this. 

     “Took you long enough.” Ben said as he walked up behind you. You didn’t notice that you passed him on the way. 

     “Sorry, got caught in my thoughts.” You were good at running but right now, you were too tired. 

     “Well? You going to open the door love?” 

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it.” You huffed as you put the keys in and finally opened the door. Of course the first thing you noticed about the house was the smell. The smell of the house was mixed in with the breeze of the ocean and the beach. You loved it. Ben on the other hand didn’t really care. He just walked in and was amazed by how big it was. You closed the door behind you and turned left to see Ben looking around amazed by the living room. You walked into the living room after him. There was a fireplace with the flat screen TV above it. There was a couch facing the fireplace with one small couch chair on the east and west side of it, facing each other with a rectangular coffee table in the middle of it. On the west side of the couches, there was a giant window to see out to the front lawn. On the east side, it led into the dining room. There were sliding wooden doors that separated the dining room and the living room. You opened the doors and walked in. There was a long rectangular dining table in the center with 3 chairs on the longer sides while one chair on each of the smaller sides of the table. To your left, there were two doors that lead to your Uncle’s office, but he told you not to go in there. On the opposite end of you and the long dining table was the kitchen. It had a bar top that had all the information like the wifi password and rules to the house that your uncle had left you two. The fridge was one of those double door ones, you forgot the name of it. On the right side of the dining table, there was the stairs that lead up to the bedrooms and everything. You decide not to go up there just yet because you wanted to check out the backyard. The door to the backyard was through the kitchen. 

     You had completely forgotten about Ben until he appeared beside you in the kitchen, you make your way to the back door and open it. The backyard was beautiful, there was a wooden plank cover over the rustic looking porch chairs and coffee table. Along the backyard walls were beautiful vines going up and down. There was even a palm tree in the back corner of the yard. The grass was actually green unlike back in Arizona where most grass died from the heat. The string lights that hung everywhere matched so well. You were definitely going to turn them on tonight. And maybe Ben too. 

     “So, you gonna stand here and look at the grass all day or are we going to get the stuff from the car and claim rooms?” Ben’s sudden statement made you jump, you were so lost in thought. You’ve been doing that a lot today. 

     “Awww, I was planning on just looking at the grass, why you gotta ruin my fun?” You pouted but of course he always caught your sarcasm so it didn’t matter. You stepped down to the porch from the steps and walked up to the gate that lead into the driveway. The gate was rusty so it made an awful creeking sound that made your face scrunch up in disgust. Ben just covered his ears in pain. 

     “We need to get oil for that, ‘cause there’s no way I can deal with that for the next two months.” Ben walked passed you towards the car to get the stuff out of the trunk. 

     “I think I got some in the car somewhere and if not then maybe my Uncle got some.” You walked over to the trunk and opened the back door. Grabbing both yours and Ben’s suitcases and placing them on the concrete and climbed in and crawled inside the SUV to check if anything else was left. You turned around and sat on the edge of the car and just dangle your legs around. Ben came back from the driver's seat and saw you just sitting there. You put your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. You looked… sad and he didn’t know why. 

     “Hey, what’s wrong love?” Ben walked closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. 

     “Nothing, I’m just thinking, I guess.” You looked up at him but didn’t move your head. Ben decided to grab both of your hands in his. You sat up at his touch and looked him in the eyes. Those fucking green orbs were really going to kill you. 

     “Thinking about what? I know that when you think too much, you tend to get caught in your feelings.” And he was right, because right now your feelings were caught for him. But you couldn’t tell him that. 

     “I’m fine, really, I was just thinking about the next two months.” You give a sly smile but it quickly disappears. Ben gets in between your legs now and his face is just mere inches from you. You can feel his hot breath on your face. Your hands are still in his. 

     “Are you though?” Every second Ben kept getting closer and closer until his stupid phone went off. He let go of your hands and grabbed his phone. His mom was calling, you loved her to death like your own mother but wrong time to be calling. At least for you. 

     “Sorry, I got to take this.” Ben whispered as he answered the phone. He put it between his ear and his shoulder to keep it in place as he grabbed his suitcases and headed for the back gate. You huffed in frustration, so close but so goddamn far. You jumped out from the back of the SUV and slammed the doors. You grabbed your luggage and start heading for the house, your grip was so tight on the handle of the case that your knuckles were turning white. 

     Once you entered onto the back porch, you let go of the suitcases and closed the gate, forgetting about the horrible screeching sound it made. Once it was locked you turned back to the backyard door and sighed. You had it so bad for that man but oh boy was it so complicated. You grabbed your things and made your way to the door and walked in. Ben was nowhere to be seen, maybe he was already upstairs. You passed through the kitchen and up the stairs you went. The stairs had five steps leading up and then a platform, then going to the left up another fifteen or so steps and then another stupid platform with five or six more steps turning left leading to the second floor. It wouldn’t be so difficult if it was just you but no, you had to carry two suitcases up with you. 

     Once you got up there, your legs were about to give out. The first bedroom on your right was your Uncle’s and it had two giant white doors to it. The second door on the other side of it was one of the rooms you or Ben would be staying in. It was a bright pink color and it had a queen size bed with a window on the wall with the bed frame. The closet was on your left and it was a small one but it would do. The dresser was on the wall near the door and it had a big mirror. Then on the right side of the room, there was a door that lead to the bathroom. You decide to leave your stuff in here for now until you explored the rest of the house. You walked further down the hall. There was another room on your right but you weren’t too worried about it because it was more of a kids room. And next to it was another bathroom. Between your Uncle’s room and the kids room was the laundry room. At the end of the hall were two other doors. One on the right, it leads to a small living room with a balcony. It had a futon and a TV along with a small table in the middle. The room on the left was closed so you decide to open the door. It was a light baby blue color and basically identical to the pink room besides the balcony it had on the right side. The closet was a walk in on the left wall near the bathroom door. Ben was lying on the bed, all sprawled out. 

     “Hey Benny Boy, you still on the phone?” You walked in slowly only to find out that he was passed out. “Okay then…” 

     You walk through his bathroom into your room since they were connected. You walked over to your pink fluffy bed and belly flopped onto it. You were so tired from everything and all you wanted to do was take a nap but you knew you couldn’t. You had to unpack and get everything situated. Then you could sink into your new pretty pink bed and fall fast asleep. 

     You get up and groan. It wasn’t even that late yet, it was barely 4:30 pm. The sun was still out and luckily, it gave some natural lighting in your room. You sit down next to your bags and start to go through them. You put your bras, underwear, and socks in the top drawer of the dresser, your shirts in the middle drawer, and your pants in the bottom one. Your nice clothes on the other hand, were going to go in the closet to hang up. You brought a couple colorful sundresses in case you decide to go out somewhere and a couple of late night dresses in case you wanted to go out and have some fun. You place your shoes, sandals, and fuzzy slippers at the bottom of the closet. After, you went and put all of your makeup, brushes, and whatever you had for your skin care routine. You had finally finished unpacking when you checked the time on your phone to see it was 5:30 now. You didn’t realize you took that long. You really wanted to go out on the first night but you were just being lazy at this point. Maybe you and Ben would get some Postmates since you really didn’t feel like driving. 

     You walk through your bathroom and into Ben’s room. He’s still in the same place as he was an hour ago. You walk over and violently shake him until you hear him groan. 

     “What do you want love? I’m trying to sleep.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists and looked at you. 

     “I want to sleep too but you need to get unpacked and I’m hungry, should we get Postmates?” Ben scooches over to make room for you to sit down on the bed. You sit down and the next thing you know, Ben’s arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you down with him onto the bed to lay down. You should have known by now that he would do this. 

     “Ben! C’mon, we gotta get you unpacked!” You try to snake away from his grasp on you but it doesn’t work. Now your back is against chest and he’s breathing down your neck once again like back at the hotel. 

     “Your not going anywhere sweetheart. Let’s just relax for a bit… Hmmmm… How does that sound?” You can tell that he’s dozing off so you try to break from his arms. This time you actually get out. Once your free you shake Ben and push him off the bed. 

     “Fine! I’m up!” Ben pushes himself up from the floor and sits back against the bed. 

     “Took you long enough.” Mocking his words from earlier. You turn back to the door and open it. 

     “What do you want from Postmates?” You call back as you walk down the hall. 

     “I don’t know, your choice, surprise me!” Ben yelled back from his room. 

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     Ben had finished unpacking when the food arrived. You just decided to get some chinese food because you were craving it all day. You got Ben his usual and even then he was complaining. 

     “You didn’t surprise me!” He whined like a little child.

     “If I did, you would complain anyway about how the food was different.” You said back from the living room while stuffing food in your mouth. 

     “Whatever, I’ll still eat it, I guess.” Ben said as he walked into the living room and sat next to you on the couch. You decided to put Netflix on and binge watch Sugar Rush. Ben loved this show and so did you. You both loved baking shows and it was quite odd since neither of you could bake. 

     “Stop being a prick Benny. You know I’m right.” 

     “Sure, keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” Ben’s little nicknames for you were cute but sometimes you felt like his little pet. It didn’t really matter to you, sometimes you would give Ben little nicknames too like Benny Boy or Benji. 

     “Okay well anyways, I put on Sugar Rush.”

     “Is this really how we’re spending our Thursday night? Watching Sugar Rush while eating Postmates and being lazy bums?”

     “Yeah, I guess so. I don’t care. We can just go out tomorrow night.” You shoved more food into your mouth and looked over at Ben. 

     “M’sure but we just got here and I’m so ready to go and do something.” Ben said as he stuffed his face with food. You poked Ben to make him look at you. When he turned his head to face you, you had stuffed your mouth with noodles and they were just dangling from your lips. Ben started to laugh uncontrollably and almost choked on his own food. 

     The next hour went by pretty quickly and the next thing you know, you and Ben had finished your food and wandered into the kitchen to find something to do. Ultimately though, you found nothing and just ended back on the couch, watching Sugar Rush. It got cold pretty quickly so you got up and went upstairs to get yours and Ben’s blankets that your grandma had given the both of you. You ran back down stairs and sat back down next to Ben. You handed him his blanket and snuggled into yours. Even with the blanket though, you were still freezing. 

     “Hey Benny?”

     “Yes love?” He looked over you. You were on the opposite end of the couch, nearest to the window while Ben was on the other end. 

     “Am I the only one freezing to death?”

     “Your cold? I’m fine,” Ben said as he snuggled into his blanket some more. “Do you want me to keep you warm Y/n/n?” 

     “Please!” You basically threw yourself at him when he said that. You snuggled up against his side while he draped his arm around your shoulders. Ben’s body heat made you ten times warmer. You rested your head on him and dozed off. 

     Ben didn’t realize you fell asleep until he started getting tired too. He tried to get up but you wouldn’t budge. Usually he would just pick you up and carry you to your room. Instead he just let you sleep there and soon enough, he fell asleep too. 

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     When you had finally woken up, Ben wasn’t there anymore like back at the hotel. You didn’t care this time though, because he can’t be flirting with some random desk girl here. The sunlight shone through the white curtains of the living room window giving the room a soft and angelic feeling and look to it. What really caught your attention though was the smell of pancakes and fresh fruit. You flipped over to look into the dining room but the doors were closed. You got up and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders as you made your way to the sliding wooden doors. You parted them slightly to just have a peak, your eyes wandered until they fell onto Ben cooking. Your heart melted at the fact that he had an apron on. He looked adorable in it and his cooking was quite good too. You moved the doors to step into the dining room before entering the kitchen with Ben. You snaked around him to grab some fresh strawberries from the bowl he left on the counter. 

     “Hey! Those strawberries are for breakfast!” Benny said as he swatted your hand away from the bowl, but not before you could grab a couple. 

     “Free for all.” You turned back around and went on the other side of the bar top to watch him and his skills at cooking. As Ben continued cooking, you looked over everything your Uncle had left you. You had forgotten to go over it yesterday since you were so tired from unpacking everything. Your Uncle had left you a note that read: 

Dear Y/n, 

If you’re reading this(which I hope you are!) then you have finally made it to my house. All of the papers under this note are of some importance so make sure you read through them carefully! The wifi password shouldn’t be too hard to remember and if anything happens make sure to call and tell me. I will be away for three months but you are planning to only be here for two so I probably won’t see you when I get back. I have a groundskeeper so don’t call the police when you see a random guy walking around the backyard. That would be bad! Anyways, I hope you and Ben have a great time in San Diego and don’t do anything stupid! 

-Sincerely, Your Uncle

P.S.: I forgot to mention to not go into my office or my master bedroom because privacy! Bye!

     “What you reading over there love?” Ben said as he flipped the pancake that was in the grey pan. 

     “Just reading a note my Uncle left us.” You looked through the papers under the note and they got long and boring so you decided you’ll go through them later. Right now though, the smell of the pancakes really had your attention. Before you could say anything Ben saw that look in your eyes. 

     “No, you can’t have any pancakes until I’m done!” Ben swung the spatula in the air. You sighed in defeat. 

     “Fine, I’ll just go upstairs” You grumbled as you heaved your way up the flight of stairs to your bedroom. All you wanted was some of Ben’s pancakes but no, you had to wait until he was finished in the kitchen. Whatever, you’ll just find something to do in the meantime. And that something was going through Ben’s stuff. When you were back home, or Ben’s home to be exact, you would rummage through his clothes and play dress up. Ben was your judge, he critiqued you on your sense of style and how good you look. You loved how big his clothes were on you, baggy shirts and his basketball shorts were your favorite out of them all. Even though he didn’t play the sport, he still owned a few pairs like every basic teenage boy out there. 

     You walked into his closet which was bigger than yours but you couldn’t do anything about it. The first thing you looked for was a t-shirt. You went through his many drawers but you couldn’t make up your mind on which one to take. Until you find his soccer jersey, you decide to change your shirt for it. After finding that one, you look into his other clothes to find his basketball shorts. You didn’t really have to choose because they were just different colors so you chose the black ones. You looked like a bumble bee with Ben’s yellow jersey and black shorts but now all you had to get was his socks. You liked his socks more than your own, you called them his soccer socks since you couldn’t remember the name of them, but they were long and usually black. You tried to hurry and find his socks before Ben came up here to look at what you were doing. As you were digging through his sock drawer, you hit something hard, like a book. You digged through his collection of soccer socks until you found it. 

     It was a plain baby blue journal that said Ben on the cover. You didn’t want to invade Ben’s privacy but it was already in your hands so who cares? You open up to the first page which read: DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER! -Love, Ben’s Diary.

     Ben had a diary?! That you didn’t know about? Impossible! Ben’s not very good at keeping secrets so it really was a shocker to find out that he had this tucked away in his sock drawer. You wanted to continue reading but before you could even turn the page, Ben called you that the pancakes were ready. Nothing was going to stop you from getting those pancakes, even if it meant leaving Ben’s diary. You would come back for it later anyways. You quickly closed the book and covered it back into the sock drawer. Before you left, you also grabbed a pair of his soccer socks and slipped them on. You jumped up and slid down the hall to the stairs. 

     Ben saw you coming from a mile away, what he didn’t expect was you dressed in his clothes. What really caught his attention was the socks. You went through his sock drawer? Usually he wouldn’t mind but he had his diary in there! He didn’t have much time to think until you came into the kitchen. 

     “Pancakes!” You sounded like a five year old. 

     “Yeah, I know. Here,” Ben said as he handed you your plate of food. “I can see you decided to play dress up again, love.”

     “I did!” You scurried over to the table and sat down and started munching away at the pancakes, Ben even gave you most of the strawberries from earlier. At least the ones he didn’t put into the pancakes. 

     “Alright well, I’m going to go change myself. I’ll be back in a bit.” He said as he ran off to his room, tripping over some of the steps on the way. Ben sprinted to his room and into his closet. He went through his sock drawer and found his diary at the very bottom. He knew that you knew that it was here. What he didn’t know was how much of it you read. He closed the drawer and stuffed it into the top shelf. 

     You were stuffed from the food and still kinda curious about Ben’s diary. Of course you weren’t going to bring it up to him because you didn’t want him to not let you dress up anymore. Once you rinsed off your plate and silverware, you made your way up stairs to where Ben was. You slowly opened the door but to no avail, he wasn’t there. You decided to just flop on his bed instead and snuggle in his blankets which surprisingly already smelled liked him. He didn’t even sleep in the stupid bed yet. You started to doze off until you fell asleep. 

     What Ben didn’t expect when he came out of the bathroom, was you wrapped in his blankets, sound asleep. God, he just wanted to snuggle next to you all day but if that happened, neither of you would wake up until 7 pm. It was only noon, maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt. Ben decided to climb into his bed with you and pulled you into a cuddle except this time, your head was on his chest while his arms still wrapped around your waist. You put your arms in and cuddled in some more. It made Ben’s heart skip a beat or two, he never wanted this to end. 

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