#one of us is My Abba Song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

supernovafics · 2 months ago

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𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealous!reader, a bit of angst, fluff

summary: in which you don’t expect to feel so bothered seeing steve talk to another girl, but you do

author's note: this was unfinished for months and i finally felt inspired to actually finish it thank god. i'm trying to slowly get back into writing stuff for this series so enjoy this for now<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

When you first heard about the party, you didn’t think too much about it because your Friday night plans were already settled. A simple movie night in your living room with Steve featuring some of the new arrivals that had just gotten to Family Video. However, you still nodded and said a quick, “Maybe I’ll check it out” to your college friend when she told you about her party and you got the address from her too out of niceness.

It wasn’t until you half-mentioned the party to Robin as you picked through the new arrivals cart during the final hour of her and Steve’s shift that going actually became a possibility.

“Wait, what? A party at a lake house sounds perfect. We have to go.”

Steve was quick to look up from the computer and shake his head at her words. “No way. We already have plans for the night, Robs.”

The eye roll he received in response was immediate. “You two can waste away on the couch any night you want. Tonight we should go to a party.”

You considered her words and nodded after a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Thank you,” She smiled at you before looking back at Steve. “And you need to remember that I’m only gonna be here for a few more weeks, so we need to do as much stupid shit as we can while I am still here.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her words. “Okay, you can’t keep using the college card like it’s an ‘I only have two weeks left to live’ card.”

“I second that,” Steve agreed. “Also, you keep making it seem like you’re going thousands of miles away. You’re only gonna be an hour away from here.”

“Yeah, well, still, things are changing,” She told you both. “And I wanna have fun before I leave.”

Fun ended up being an understatement.

Barely an hour into the party she was drunk due to one too many cupfuls of whatever punch concoction had been thrown together and put in a big bowl in the kitchen. You and Steve shared one cup of the weirdly sweet drink and then decided to simply settle into the role of babysitting Robin.

You both were currently lingering by a wall and watching as Robin danced with all of the other people crowded in the living room; you vaguely recognized the ABBA song playing. You made a mental note to tell her no if she came running over to you and Steve and proposed the idea of getting another drink.

“This is your fault, you know,” Steve told you, leaning into your ear to be heard over the music. “If you didn’t mention the party to her earlier, you and I would be on the couch watching a movie and eating takeout from Third Street.”

You gave him a sad look coupled with a pouty lip and he immediately felt bad, taking your look to heart. He quickly leaned in to apologetically kiss you.

“Sorry,” He mumbled against your lips.

You were smiling as he pulled away. “You’re too easy.”

He immediately rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side, which made you laugh. “And you’re very evil.”

“Sorry, I had to,” You said and initiated the quick kiss that time around. “Anyway, yes, I know this is my fault and I’d kill to have Third Street right now, but look how happy she is.” You gestured in the direction of where Robin was in the packed living room, dancing with all of the other people who you were convinced were at least half-drunk, but you now couldn’t see her. “Wait, shit, where did she go?”

Steve looked around for a second too and then let out a sigh when he also couldn’t spot her. Maybe you two weren’t the best babysitters after all.

“Okay, I’ll check upstairs and you look around down here,” You said to him. “Oh, and maybe grab some water too. She’ll probably need it sooner rather than later.”

Steve gave you a quick nod. “Okay.”

You checked every room upstairs and instead of finding Robin you accidentally interrupted one too many couples making out. After quickly peeking into the last room and mumbling out another “Oops, sorry,” you headed back down the stairs, hoping Steve had better luck than you. You noticed him in the kitchen, two water bottles in hand, and talking to someone who wasn’t Robin but you immediately recognized.

Vanessa. A girl who was in one of your classes last semester and had gone on a handful of dates with Steve at the end of last year.

It was hard to decipher what they were talking about right then, but Steve had a small smile on his face and so did she.

You couldn’t recognize why— or maybe you just refused to admit it right then— but you felt the sudden urge to insert yourself into the conversation; sidle up next to Steve, grab his hand and wrap his arm around you, kiss his cheek or simply plant one on his mouth. Essentially mark your territory for everyone, especially Vanessa, to see. But, you were way too sober to actually consider doing any of that, so you instead looked away from him and went back to searching for Robin.

You found her moments later, sitting on the chair swing on the front porch of the house.

“Hey, Robs, what are you doing out here?” You asked softly as you sat down next to her, trying not to move the swing too much but that proved to be a lot harder than you thought.

Robin didn’t seem to mind, though. Her eyes were closed as she shrugged at your question. “Just wanted some fresh air.”

“Makes sense,” You nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Her eyes stayed shut as she answered you. “Sleepy, but at the same time I kinda wanna get another drink and dance some more.”

“I’ll allow the dancing, but I need to be a good babysitter right now and say no more drinking.”

She gave you a quick nod. “The logical side of me knows you’re right.”

Things got quiet for a second and in that moment of quiet you thought about Steve and Vanessa in the kitchen. It seemed as if all your brain wanted to do right then was play that moment on repeat. You could inwardly admit that the conversation had looked completely innocent and probably quite literally meant nothing, but for some reason, it still bothered you.

“A part of me wishes I got drunk with you,” You said to Robin with a sigh and leaned back into the chair.

She smiled at that and looked at you. “You definitely still can.”

Before you could answer, you heard the front door open and subsequently close, and then Steve’s voice filled the brief quiet. “Good. You found her.”

He handed one of the water bottles he was holding over to you. “I grabbed one for you too.”

He the. placed the other bottle in Robin’s lap and she gave him a small smile. “Thanks, dingus.”

If the circumstances were different and your thoughts weren’t confused and scattered, you would’ve shifted over a bit and made room for Steve on the small chair swing, and a random conversation would’ve played out for the next few minutes before you or he suggested leaving. But things weren’t different, so you didn’t.

Steve didn’t think too much of it, though. Instead, he simply asked, “Should we head out?”

You nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah.”

He looked at Robin. “We’re taking you to our place, right?”

“Yes, please,” She answered, smiling. “You guys are great babysitters.”

She shut her eyes again and Steve looked at you, giving you a smile and you were quick to force one back. It was then that you could tell that he knew something was up with you because of the look he gave you in response to your forced smile, but he didn’t get to ask you what was going on because Robin was abruptly standing up and asking which way the car was.

It wasn’t until you all were finally in Steve’s car and driving away from the party— Robin fell asleep in the backseat almost immediately— that he finally asked.

“What’s wrong?”

You let the question linger in the air for a bit— keeping your eyes focused out the window and letting your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the zipper of your jacket— before you answered him.

“I don’t know…” You mumbled with a shrug and then you sighed and shook your head. “Actually, I do know, but it’s dumb. It’s stupid.”

His right hand moved off of the steering wheel and found one of yours. “You can tell me.”

You knew he was right, but that didn’t make being a thousand percent honest feel any easier in this moment.

“Vanessa was at the party,” You ultimately said, figuring that would be the easiest way to start the conversation.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, we talked for a second.”

“Yeah, I saw,” You said and wanted to end the conversation there, but you knew that you couldn’t. “It kinda annoyed me a bit.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, taking a quick look at you.

“I don’t know…” You sighed again. “Just seeing you guys talking was a little annoying, I guess.”

Things got quiet for a second, and that managed to make you get even more inside your head. Maybe Steve thought you were insane or he was even mad at you for feeling this way. This was entirely unchartered territory between you two, so you weren’t entirely sure what his reaction would be.

“Oh,” Steve said as if he was realizing something and then smiled a bit. “You were jealous.”

You immediately rolled your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

You used your free hand to gesture to his face. “With that smile on your face.”

“I think it’s cute that you were jealous,” He told you, pulling your intertwined hands up to his lips so that he could kiss the back of yours.

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.”

“It really is,” Steve said and you decided not to protest him that time around, looking out the window again.

“I love you, by the way,” He continued. “Just in case you forgot.”

That managed to finally get a smile out of you.

“I did forget, actually. Thank you for the reminder,” You joked and then turned to look at him. “I love you too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Guiding a half-awake Robin from the car to your and Steve’s apartment was a feat in itself, but it somehow worked out. You two helped Robin into your bed instead of letting her take the couch and then you set a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand because you had a feeling she’d need it in the morning.

You changed into your pajamas in Steve’s room, which simply consisted of a t-shirt that you had long ago stolen from Steve and a pair of shorts, and then both you and him settled into his bed.

He had fallen asleep pretty quickly and you thought, or more so hoped, that you would find sleep easily too, but instead, you tossed and turned in bed because you couldn’t seem to shut off your mind. You weren’t entirely sure why you were still feeling a little sulky and weird about everything— Steve didn’t care and he wasn’t upset with you for feeling jealous— but there was something still nagging at the back of your head about the whole thing.

“I know what you’re thinking right now,” You heard Steve sleepily mumble after what felt like an hour of you trying but failing to force yourself to sleep but it was probably only twenty minutes. His arm circled around your waist and he pulled you back against him. “And you should stop it.”

The fact that he could easily read your mind wasn’t surprising and it was probably the only thing that made you feel a little bit okay and made you want to at least attempt to verbalize the thoughts that had been running through your head.

“I just hate being like this. It feels so— I don’t know…” You were then squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your face into the pillow as you admitted, “When I saw you and her talking I really wanted to just go up and kiss you in front of her, so that she knew that we’re together and you’re mine.”

“Mm, you should’ve done that,” He mumbled into your neck. “That would’ve been really hot.”

You finally turned on your side to face him. “Shut up. I don’t know why I just admitted that, honestly. I told you this was stupid.”

“Don't feel embarrassed about it,” He said, somehow managing to sum it all up perfectly; you were feeling embarrassed. “This happens to me all the time.”

You laughed a little. “You don’t have to lie to try and make me feel better about how dumb I'm being.”

“I’m serious,” He told you. “Remember last Thursday when you came to Family Video during the last hour of mine and Robin’s shift?”

When you gave him a quick nod in response, he continued. “I was so annoyed watching you talk to that one guy.”

At first, you weren’t sure what guy he was talking about, but then it hit you. It had been the all too familiar situation where someone thought that you also worked at the store because you were the only one standing behind the counter since both Robin and Steve were stocking shelves. But even after you told this guy that you actually didn’t work there, he kept the conversation going and you laughed and smiled along for a bit to be nice before making up some excuse and retreating to the break room for the rest of Steve and Robin’s shift.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t seem annoyed at all, and we didn’t even talk about it.”

“Yeah, because for like two minutes I felt jealous, but then I remembered that I’m the one you’re with and nothing could change that— especially not some random blonde guy— so…” Steve trailed off with a shrug and smile.

As if flicking a light switch, his words changed everything for you. Once again, he was right; there was nothing that could change what you two had.

“And just so you know,” He continued, voice soft and quiet. “I always feel embarrassed and stupid about it after it happens too.”

You were smiling as you kissed him then, closing the small bit of distance between you two and finding his lips in the darkness that consumed his room.

“I can’t believe you’re turning out to be the rational one out of the two of us,” You joked when you pulled back from the kiss and proceeded to bury your face into his neck and completely entangle your body with his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” He whispered back and pressed the softest kiss to your shoulder before he started to pull away from you. You immediately pouted at him in protest but he continued, pulling the blanket off of both of you and getting out of bed. “It’s only midnight. Let’s do what we were actually supposed to do tonight.”

Hearing him say that made you follow suit and get out of bed too, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Movies and Third Street?”

Steve was nodding as he walked over to you, arms slipping around your waist and pulling you close to him. “Yup.”

“That’s a great idea,” You whispered, looking up at him. “But, no funny business on the couch, though. The walls are way too thin and we’ll never hear the end of it from Robin if she hears anything.”

“Okay,” Steve said, and then proceeded to kiss your forehead and then both of your cheeks and then your neck; all of which made you softly laugh. “Sorry, just needed to get those out of the way first.”

You gave him an understanding nod that you hoped looked as serious as you wanted it to be, but there was a wide smile on your face as you spoke. “Okay, yeah, makes sense.”

He gave you one final kiss, that time against your lips, and then he was pulling away from you and heading toward his shut door. Your arms circled around him from behind as you followed him out into the living room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff

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coff33andb00ks · 6 months ago

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world around us

summary: you're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night word count: 1k pairing: lando norris x oscar piastri x driver!reader (lilli. it's lilli) warnings: just pure fluff, slightly suggestive language(?) a.n.: final installation of my I need Lilli to have an amazing birthday series! this is once again for @maxlarens HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILLI MY LOVE!!! playlist: completely unhinged songs that fit the vibe

"No no no no no no no! You can't do that! You fuckin' muppet!"

Oscar mirrors your eye roll as Lando protests you placing a house on one of your properties. "She owns it though?" he says tentatively.

Lando scoffs, snatching up the guide and snapping it open. "The rules say–"

"I refuse to follow rules when you rolled twice so you wouldn't go to jail," you say with a huff, snatching the guide from him.

"I had to! One of the dice landed on the floor!"

"Oh but when we play golf I have to play no matter where my ball lands?"

"Yes." Lando gives you a look of disbelief, as though the idea of breaking a golfing rule is akin to murder. "It's not my fault you can't hit a ball straight."

"Just for that–" You slap more brightly colored money in front of Oscar - Oscar has to be the banker he's the most honest one among us - and grab a hotel to replace the house. "Suffer."

Lando groans, throwing up his hands. "You're cheating. I hate games night."

Oscar's grin shifts and he begins to chuckle. "We could play Trivial Pursuit?"

"No," Lando whines, picking up the dice to take his turn. "That game makes me feel stupid."

"Uno?" you suggest sweetly.

"No, we'll finish this. Capitalism is good to me, I'll make a comeback." Lando nods to himself as he shakes the dice. "Just shut up so I can focus."

And then, twenty minutes later–

"What d'you mean I owe you double the rent?!"

The rules are checked - well this is fucking bullshit - and he counts out all of his money to pay up. Suddenly capitalism sucks and he's clinging to his one property block and his cash like they're his lifeline.

You'll never know how (he probably cheated) but he wins. Monopoly money rains down as he celebrates and you fall back with laughter when Oscar flips the board in disgust.

You love games night. The silly playlist Lando put together plays, Disney movies play, muted, on the tv, and you've got them.

Lando and Oscar. Your biggest rivals on the track and your closest friends off. You're celebrating Oscar's first win this week now that summer break is here, enjoying the lazy days before you each take off in different directions to visit family and recuperate from an exhausting first half of the season.

"Loser cleans up," you remind Oscar and he groans as he gives you a kiss then begins picking up the mess. Lando's singing along to the latest country song he's obsessed with - Is it your heart or mine? Is it whiskey or wine? Is it somethin' in the night Makin' us wanna cross that line? - and he follows you into the kitchen to get more drinks.

"You sure you don't want to come along with me?" he asks, reaching around you to get a beer from the fridge.

"Let me see... Golfing with a bunch of men versus beach time with my best friends…" You hum thoughtfully, squealing when loops an arm around you.

"That can't be right. Me and Osco are your best friends," he says.

"Let me rephrase. Best women friends."

He's holding you close, swaying a little to the song playing - you think Oscar's the one who added ABBA, or maybe it was you - and you smile a little as you sway with him. He hums songs without realizing it and it's one of his more endearing habits.

"But I'll miss you," he murmurs, tucking his chin on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you too." And you will. This season you've grown closer to him. Literally, considering he finally talked you - and Oscar - into moving to Monaco. But also figuratively. You're just as rough on yourself as he is on himself, and with all the macho bravado that surrounds you every race week, it's nice to have someone who understands your being upset over missing out on a podium due to your own failings as a driver, your miscommunication with the team. It's rarer to have someone who understands shouldering the blame of the team's missteps – if I was better at this, they would trust my judgment but I'm not so they don't and that means—

"Not getting sappy on me are you?" Lando teases.

"You started it," you mutter. Turning, you wrap your arms around him. "We can live a few weeks without each other."

"I mean… You'll text right? Call?" he asks softly.

"FaceTime too," you promise.

It's tentative and new and so fucking scary but he gives you a soft kiss. Not your first with him, but it still makes your heart do that weird little flutter that it's only ever done with one other person.

"Jenga?" Oscar calls from the living room and Lando perks up instantly, nearly knocking you down in his haste to get back to the only other person he's going to miss during break.

Jenga with your boys is impossible. They're too competitive, know too many things they can say that make the other break and send the blocks flying.

"Oh of course he's going for the bottom, man loves to be at the bottom," Oscar mutters to you and Lando's giggling, covering his face with his hands as the tower collapses.

The games are abandoned, and you're squished on the couch between them, Oscar's lips on your ear, Lando's head on your stomach as the three of you, tipsy and relaxed, begin making plans for the last days of break while a Studio Ghibli movie plays. It's not said by either of you, but you already know that the three of you will find each other long before the break is over.

The world is easier to bear when it's the three of you together. It's still new, still tentative, still scary as hell, but it feels oh so right.

#f1 #f1 imagine #oscar piastri #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #landoscar x

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tamaharu · 2 years ago

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love the girl trying to choreograph our choir stuff asking us to bring in sunglasses as if half the choir doesnt wear glasses

#i literally dont even own any sunglasses bc i cant use them #so annoying not only is the one we're dancing to the SEVEN MINUTE song. but also i hate dancing.#if i wanted to dance and sing at the same time i wouldve done musical theater instead of choir idiot #anyways i gotta stop complaining out loud she was telling us this last class #and i thought i was being quiet when i was sadly like 'i wear glasses.... :(' um. i was not being as quiet as i thought oops #IN MY DEFENSE. i was very eepy. and i hate having to dance for choir THE SONGS ARENT EVEN GOOD #the end of year concert is supposed to be the fun pop music time and the theme is fucking like. retro. its all shit 70s and 80s songs.#LIKE THE 7 min one is a medley of fucking YACHT ROCK. including a worse version of dancing queen by not abba #i hate the songs soso much. theres one w a line about squares (nerds) and the prof gave a lecture abt what it means WE KNOW WHAT IT MEANS #complainibg. ill have to remember to see if i can find sunhlasses before tomorrow i can steal. i literally dont own any sunglasses.....

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graynvmbr · 2 months ago

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I've Been Waiting for You | Harry Potter

pairing: harry james potter x female!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: welcoming someone new

word count: 5.1k (I apologise)

based on the song by abba

The soft patter of rain against the windows filled the quiet of your cottage. Outside, the world was wrapped in the muted greys of a late November morning, the trees bare, the ground frosted from the night’s chill. Inside, warmth seeped from every corner—the faint crackle of the fireplace, the glow of the kitchen lanterns you’d forgotten to turn off.

Upstairs, the bathroom felt like its own cocoon. You stood by the sink, clutching the small plastic test in trembling hands. The air seemed heavier, thick with your anticipation, and the only sound was the erratic rhythm of your breathing.

You stared at the test, the seconds feeling like hours as you waited for the result to appear. Your mind raced, flipping between hope and caution, between the dreams you’d held for so long and the fear of another disappointment.

For as long as you could remember, you’d dreamed of this moment. You’d imagined tiny hands clutching yours, soft laughter filling the house, and a little one who you could hold and love unconditionally. Being a mum wasn’t just something you wanted—it was something you felt destined for, a part of who you were.

And then it appeared.

Two lines.

You froze, staring at the test as though it might vanish if you moved too quickly. The world seemed to tilt and slow all at once. Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively flew to your stomach, as though the life within you could already feel the overwhelming love coursing through you.

Tears blurred your vision as a shaky laugh escaped your lips. You pressed the test to your chest, clutching it as if it were the most precious thing you’d ever held. You sank onto the edge of the tub, your hand still resting protectively over your stomach, your mind filling with the enormity of what this meant.

This was it. The moment you had waited for.

Footsteps creaked softly in the hallway, pulling you from your thoughts. A familiar voice called out, warm and tinged with concern. “You okay, love?”

Harry’s silhouette filled the doorway, his hair tousled and his cheeks faintly flushed from the morning chill. He paused when he saw you sitting there, his brow furrowing as he noticed the tears streaming down your face. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, stepping into the room.

You couldn’t find the words, your emotions too big to articulate. Instead, you held out the test, your hand trembling slightly.

Harry’s gaze dropped to the test, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, his eyes widened, and his lips parted in disbelief. “Is this—” His voice caught, unable to finish the question.

You nodded, tears spilling over as a breathless laugh escaped. “We’re going to have a baby, Harry.”

He stood frozen for a heartbeat before dropping to his knees in front of you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he buried his face against your stomach. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it’s happening.”

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, your own tears falling freely now. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life, Harry. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Harry pulled back just enough to look up at you, his green eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know,” he said softly, his hand resting over yours on your stomach. “And no one deserves this more than you. You’re going to be the most incredible mum.”

You let out a small laugh, your heart swelling with love for the man kneeling before you. “And you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your stomach before looking back at you. “I’ve been waiting too,” he whispered. “But this... this is your moment, love. And I’m going to be right here with you every step of the way.”

For a long while, you stayed like that, your hands clasped together over the life growing inside you. The rain continued its gentle patter against the windows, but inside the cottage, the world had shifted forever. The wait was over, and the dream you’d held in your heart for so long was finally coming true.

—

By April, the chill of winter had melted into the gentle warmth of spring. The days grew longer, the sun lingered in the sky, and the meadow beyond the cottage bloomed with wildflowers, their colours spilling across the green like a watercolour painting. Everything felt alive, renewed, and full of possibility—a reflection of the new life growing inside you.

One particularly serene evening, you found yourself sitting on the back porch, wrapped in the glow of the setting sun. The light breeze carried the scent of lilacs and the faint hum of bees. You wore a long skirt and your favourite cardigan, its softness offering warmth against the coolness of the early April evening. The skirt brushed gently against your legs as you gently swayed on the old wooden swing. One hand rested protectively on your belly, the other tracing the edge of the armrest.

Harry stepped out a moment later, balancing two steaming mugs of tea. He paused when he saw you, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you silhouetted against the evening light. Your figure, gently outlined by the soft curve of your belly, was framed by the glow of the setting sun.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, crossing the porch to sit beside you.

You smiled up at him, accepting the mug he handed you. “It’s the glow,” you teased lightly. “Pregnancy has its perks.”

He chuckled as he settled in beside you, his knee brushing yours. “That, or it’s just you.”

The two of you sipped your tea in comfortable silence for a while, the swing creaking gently as it swayed in time with the breeze. Around you, the world seemed to exhale in harmony, the hum of springtime settling like a melody.

“I think he’s going to love it here,” you said suddenly, your voice quiet but certain as your gaze drifted to the meadow.

Harry raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smile. “He?”

“Just a feeling,” you said with a small laugh, placing your hand over your belly. “I can’t explain it. I just... know.”

Harry set his mug down and shifted closer, his hand covering yours as he looked down at your belly. “You’ve got good instincts,” he said softly. “And if you’re right, he’s going to be so loved. So incredibly loved.”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with affection as his green eyes met yours. “Boy or girl, they’re already loved more than I thought was possible,” you whispered. “I’ve been waiting for them for so long, Harry. My whole life, really.”

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then another just above your bump. “And they’ve been waiting for you too,” he murmured against your skin.

A lump formed in your throat, and you reached up to wipe a tear from your cheek, laughing softly at yourself. “This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “And now it’s real.”

“It’s only the beginning,” Harry replied, his voice steady and filled with love. “And we’re in this together, every step of the way.”

The swing rocked gently as you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. Above you, the sky began to darken, the first stars appearing like scattered diamonds.

Then, as if in response to your words, a tiny flutter stirred under your hand. You gasped, guiding Harry’s hand to the spot. “Feel that?”

His face lit up with awe as he felt the movement, his hand stilling as he focused on the sensation. “They’re saying hello,” he said with a grin, his voice filled with wonder.

You laughed softly, your heart swelling as tears welled in your eyes. “Hello, little one,” you whispered, brushing your fingers gently over the spot. “We can’t wait to meet you.”

Harry leaned down, resting his cheek against your belly for a moment, his voice low and tender as he murmured, “We’ll be here waiting, and we’ll love you more than anything.”

In that moment, as the two of you sat on the porch with the world alive around you, you felt the weight of the waiting lift completely. This was the dream you’d carried with you for so long, now unfurling in the warmth of spring and the glow of the love you and Harry shared. And as the stars began their nightly dance above, you knew that everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

—

Come June, the air around the cottage had turned warm and inviting. The meadow outside had blossomed into a sea of vibrant greens and wildflowers, the gentle hum of bees and rustle of leaves a constant melody. The longer days brought with them a soft golden light that spilled into the house, touching every corner with warmth.

One evening, just as the sun began to set, painting the horizon in shades of amber and rose, you found yourself standing in the nursery. The room was a perfect blend of coziness and anticipation. Soft, pale colours graced the walls, a light green that reminded you of fresh spring leaves, and the furniture was simple yet elegant—wooden shelves lined with books and small mementos, a plush rug on the floor in gentle pastel shades. The crib, already assembled and carefully decorated, sat in the centre, waiting for the little one who would soon call it home. The rocking chair in the corner, with its soft cushions and worn wood, seemed to beckon you to sit and relax.

The heat of the day had faded into a comfortable coolness, and a light breeze carried the faint scent of lavender through the open window. You wore your favourite flowing dress, the fabric brushing softly against your ankles as you shifted your weight, one hand resting on the small of your back while the other cradled your growing belly. The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the window, casting long, warm beams across the room and illuminating the golden wood of the crib. The room felt peaceful, filled with quiet joy and the promise of new beginnings.

The light outlined your silhouette, highlighting the curve of your figure and the soft fullness of your stomach. You stood there quietly, gazing at the crib, lost in thought as the fireflies outside the window began to blink into existence, their soft glows dotting the landscape like tiny stars. You imagined the little one you’d soon be holding in your arms, and your heart swelled at the thought of it all.

Harry’s footsteps were soft as he entered the room, but you heard him immediately, his presence familiar and comforting. He stopped in the doorway.

You turned slightly, offering him a small smile as your hand moved to smooth the fabric of your dress over your belly. “It’s peaceful in here,” you said, nodding toward the crib. “I like to imagine what it’ll be like when we can bring him home, when he’ll sleep here in his crib, and we’ll be the ones to tuck him in.” You glanced toward the rocking chair in the corner, imagining rocking him to sleep in the quiet of the night, his tiny body cradled against you. “When he’s old enough to run around, play with the toys we’ve got waiting, and maybe even chase the fireflies in the garden.”

Harry crossed the room to stand behind you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders before sliding down to join yours over your bump. He stood there for a moment, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he took in the soft surroundings, the nursery filled with love and warmth. “I can see it now,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “Him running wild, laughing like it’s the best day of his life. And you, chasing after him, probably just as carefree as he is.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him, the weight of your belly making the small movement feel all the more significant. “I hope he gets your sense of adventure,” you said, your voice filled with affection. “And your heart. He’ll need both to take on the world.”

Harry turned his head, brushing a kiss to your temple. “And I hope he gets your kindness. And your patience.”

You snorted softly, glancing back at him. “Patience? Have we met?”

He grinned, his green eyes sparkling with affection. “Alright, maybe not patience. But your love, your strength—those are things he’s going to feel every day.”

Your smile softened, and you rested your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a quiet reassurance. “Sometimes I still can’t believe this is real,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “That after all the waiting, it’s actually happening.”

Harry tightened his arms around you, his embrace both protective and loving. “You’ve been waiting for him your whole life,” he said gently. “And now he’s almost here. And when he is, you’re going to be the most incredible mum.”

You closed your eyes, savouring the moment, the warmth of the setting sun on your skin and Harry’s arms around you. Outside, the fireflies continued their quiet dance, the world settling into the soft stillness of the evening.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” you said after a moment, your voice filled with emotion. “And now that it’s real, it’s more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“It’s only the beginning,” Harry replied, his voice steady and filled with quiet joy. “There’s so much ahead of us. And I can’t wait for all of it—with you.”

For a long time, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in the golden glow of the evening, the promise of the future settling warmly around you. In the quiet of the nursery, surrounded by love, you knew that the wait had been worth every second. The life you had dreamed of was finally within reach, and together, you would welcome it with open arms.

—

It was the early hours of August 3rd when things finally started moving quickly. You’d been at St. Mungo’s for hours, the contractions coming at steady intervals, each one more intense than the last. The sterile room was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the healer and the soft beeping of the machines monitoring your progress.

Harry never left your side. He was a steady presence, his hand gripping yours through each contraction, his voice low and soothing. You barely spoke anymore; the pain made it difficult, your focus narrowing to just the next breath, the next moment. It felt like everything else had faded away.

The healer had told you early on that it might be a while, but as the minutes stretched on, you could tell things were changing. The pressure in your body was relentless now, and the time between each contraction seemed to shorten.

Harry kept a cool cloth against your forehead, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there as you clenched your teeth. He was watching you closely, his face pale, his eyes wide with concern, but he didn’t say anything to distract you. Instead, he whispered soft words of encouragement when he could, his voice a familiar anchor that kept you grounded.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured again, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just breathe, love. We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t respond; words didn’t seem to matter anymore. Instead, you focused on the rhythm of your breath and the pressure that continued to build, your body responding with instinct and determination. It was hard to believe how much time had passed, and yet, each minute felt like it had been stretched into eternity.

At one point, a sharp contraction hit, sending a wave of pain through your body. You tensed, your grip tightening on Harry’s hand. The pain was almost unbearable, and you let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a gasp.

“Stay with me, love,” Harry said, his voice steady as ever. His hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, his thumb moving in small circles. “Focus on me. Just breathe.”

The healer checked in again, confirming that it wouldn’t be long now. You felt like you couldn’t take much more, but somehow, you kept going. The feeling of Harry’s hand in yours, the way he never wavered, gave you just enough strength to keep pushing forward.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you could feel the shift. The pressure in your body intensified, and your instinct took over. You squeezed Harry’s hand so hard that he winced, but he didn’t let go.

“Almost there,” the healer said. You could hear her moving around, adjusting the bed, preparing for the final stage. Harry’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of awe and concern.

“Just one more, love,” he said, leaning close to your ear. His voice was low, gentle. “You’ve got this.”

With that, you gave it everything you had left. The final push. The room seemed to quiet in that moment, the world narrowing to just you and Harry. Then you felt it—a moment of relief, of release.

There was a sudden, sharp cry that cut through the silence. It was loud, raw, and filled with life. A mixture of relief and joy flooded through you as you exhaled.

Harry kissed your forehead before looking over at the healer, who was carefully lifting James into your arms. You could barely take it all in, but when they placed him on your chest, everything else faded away.

Your son, tiny and warm, his skin soft against yours. You looked at him, his face scrunched up in that unmistakable newborn way, and your heart swelled.

Harry stood beside you, one hand gently resting on your shoulder. His eyes were glistening, a rare softness in them. “He’s perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, still in a daze, as you cradled James in your arms, marvelling at the weight of him, at the life that had come from you both. The exhaustion hit you all at once, but the relief was overwhelming.

You looked down at your son, the exhaustion from labour still lingering in your muscles, but it was all worth it in that instant. The weight of him, small and warm against your chest, grounded you in a way nothing else could. He blinked up at you with wide eyes, his tiny features scrunched as though he was trying to take in the world.

“James,” you whispered, your voice rough with emotion. The name sounded so right, so final, and everything felt real now. “You’re here.”

Harry’s breath caught as he watched you, his face softening with a look you had never seen before. His hand gently brushed over James’s tiny hand, his fingers delicate as he traced the little palm. "You did so well." Harry murmured, his voice cracking slightly.

You nodded, too overwhelmed to say anything more, but the tears that welled up in your eyes were enough to say what words couldn’t. Harry leaned in close, pressing his lips to your forehead with a quiet, “I love you,” as he placed his hand on your shoulder. He didn’t need to say it again; you both knew the truth of it, the depth of the love that had led you to this moment.

The healer moved in the background, checking on James and making sure you were both stable, but none of it mattered. You were lost in the tiny details—the way James’s fingers curled around yours, the softness of his skin, and the slow rise and fall of his chest as he settled against you. The room, the world beyond, felt so far away.

It was just the three of you now.

James let out a small, sleepy sigh as his eyelids fluttered closed, his tiny body curling into yours as though seeking the comfort and warmth of your embrace. You could feel his breath even out, a quiet, contented rhythm that made your heart swell. He was finally in your arms—where he belonged. The tension that had been building in your body since the start of labour began to melt away, replaced by a deep, profound peace. The noise and chaos of the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the soft sound of his breathing and the warmth of Harry’s presence beside you.

Harry was still watching you both, his face soft with awe as he traced his finger lightly over James’s tiny hand. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, but it felt like a gentle embrace. James, so small, so perfect, seemed to understand instinctively that he was safe now—that he was with his mother, the person who had waited for him, loved him, and dreamed of him long before he was ever born.

You held him tighter, savouring the feel of his soft skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He seemed at ease, calmed by the simple act of being in your arms. He was no longer alone. He had his family now. And somehow, that made everything feel right.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, turning to Harry, whose eyes were now filled with tears.

“I love you too,” he murmured back, his voice barely a breath, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re a family now.”

He was right. For a long moment, the world outside seemed irrelevant. The waiting, the uncertainty—it was all in the past now. James was here, and you, Harry, and him were finally a family. But in that quiet space, in the dim light of the hospital room, you knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

—

Bringing James home was a moment you’d dreamed of, and the reality was even sweeter than you could have imagined. The journey back to your cottage had been quiet, the familiar sight of the ivy-clad stone walls, the cozy windows glowing with soft light, welcoming you back. Inside, the summer warmth lingered in the air, the breeze flowing through the open windows, carrying the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. Everything had been prepared—the crib, the blankets, the soft toys waiting in the nursery—but it was this moment that you’d imagined for so long: the three of you, together at last, in your home.

Inside, the house was as welcoming as always—bright and airy, with light streaming through the windows, casting soft shadows across the walls. The nursery, ready and waiting, was perfect—fresh linens, a gentle rocking chair in the corner, and small books placed on the shelves, all set up just for him. But it wasn’t the room or the preparations that made the house feel like home. It was the feeling of James in your arms, the sense that your little family was finally together in the space that had been waiting for him.

You sat in the rocking chair by the window, your legs propped up on the ottoman, holding James close. His tiny body rested against your chest, warm and peaceful, the rise and fall of his little breaths matching the soft rhythm of the chair rocking back and forth. The room was quiet except for the occasional creak of the chair and the gentle sound of the birds singing outside. You could hear the rustling of the trees and feel the cool breeze coming in through the open window, but inside, it felt like time had slowed, just for you three.

Harry sat beside you on the floor, his back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he watched the two of you. His gaze was soft and full of awe, and he seemed as content as you had ever seen him. He reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you softly on the forehead.

“You’ve given me everything,” he said, his voice quiet and filled with emotion. He didn’t need to say more; you could see it in his eyes, in the way he was looking at you both. You’d always known he would be a great father, but seeing him with James in that moment, his eyes full of pride and love, made your heart swell in ways you hadn’t expected.

You leaned down and kissed James’s forehead, his tiny fingers curling around your hand as you did. “We’ve waited for this for so long,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “And now he’s here. He’s ours.”

Harry smiled softly, his eyes glistening. “He’s perfect,” he said, his voice catching slightly. “I can’t believe he’s here with us.”

The room felt full in that moment—full of love, peace, and a quiet kind of joy. Everything you had worked for, dreamed of, was finally here. You looked down at your son, so small and fragile in your arms, and a sense of complete contentment washed over you.

For the first time, you let yourself relax fully, letting the exhaustion from the days leading up to James’s birth melt away as you settled into the comfort of your own home. You felt Harry’s hand rest gently on your knee, his warmth beside you a steady reassurance.

The world outside was alive with summer—the gentle breeze, the sounds of the meadow—but in this moment, it felt like the rest of the world had paused. Just for a little while, it was just the three of you.

James let out a small sigh, his eyes fluttering closed, his tiny body shifting against you in the most natural, peaceful way. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you, the quiet hum of the world outside blending with the soft rhythm of your heartbeat. The house, filled with the warmth of summer, seemed to embrace you both, every creak of the floorboards, every soft rustle of the trees outside, somehow more alive with the sound of your new family.

Harry shifted beside you, leaning back against the wall, his gaze never leaving James as he slept soundly in your arms. His legs were stretched out, his feet tucked beneath him, but his posture was relaxed now, a rare moment of peace for both of you after everything. There was something in the way he looked at the two of you—an unspoken tenderness that made your heart swell.

“You’re going to spoil him, aren’t you?” you teased softly, catching Harry’s gaze.

Harry smiled, a soft, almost proud smile, and shifted to sit up straighter. “I’m just making sure he has everything he needs,” he said, his voice low but filled with affection. “And that includes all the cuddles and love he can get.”

You laughed softly, looking down at James’s tiny face, his features still scrunched in that adorable, newborn way. “I think he’ll be more than fine with that.” You paused for a moment, thinking. “It’s just... so hard to believe he’s really here.”

Harry’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of the moment settling in. “I know. I keep looking at him, and I still don’t believe it sometimes. But here he is, ours. He’s been worth every second of the waiting.”

You nodded, gently rocking back and forth in the chair, a calm peace falling over the room. “I keep thinking about all the days leading up to this, everything we dreamed about, and now he’s here. It feels... overwhelming, but in the best way possible.”

Harry’s hand found yours, squeezing it lightly. “We’ve built something beautiful, love,” he said softly, the words thick with emotion. “He’s proof of that.”

The room fell into a peaceful quiet, just the sound of the wind moving through the trees outside, and the soft, rhythmic creaking of the chair. You felt completely at peace in that moment, with Harry beside you and James nestled in your arms. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, and all that mattered was here, now.

The moonlight began to spill softly through the window as evening fell, casting long, gentle shadows across the floor. The light seemed to dance, filling the room with a quiet calm. You let out a deep breath, still holding James, feeling his tiny breaths against your chest, and Harry’s hand resting gently on your knee.

“Do you think we’re ready for this?” you asked quietly, the exhaustion from the past few days beginning to settle in, but the satisfaction of having your son in your arms still kept you wide awake.

Harry’s voice was steady, sure. “We’ve always been ready. Maybe not in the way we expected, but we’ve always been ready to love him, to give him everything.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with love for both of them, feeling so completely and utterly connected to your little family. “I’m so glad it’s with you.”

“Always,” Harry replied, his voice thick with certainty. “You and me, together.”

You leaned back against the rocking chair, cradling James in your arms, feeling a deep sense of peace. The quiet outside was perfect—soft winds brushing against the meadow, the distant chirping of crickets beginning their nightly song, and the gentle hum of life settling into its new rhythm. For a moment, time seemed to slow, the only thing in the world that mattered being the family that now filled the cottage.

With James now sleeping peacefully in your arms and Harry beside you, everything felt right. Your life had changed in an instant, but it was a change you’d been waiting for, and now it was here—your little family, whole, together, and more perfect than you’d ever imagined.

And as the night unfolded around you, you knew that no matter what the future held, you were ready for it, because it was just the three of you, at home, where you were meant to be. It felt like the fulfilment of every dream, every wish you had quietly held in your heart. You had been waiting for him—for this—and now, you had everything you ever wanted.

I hope the ending isn't too repetitive 🌷

back to my harry potter masterlist

#daniel radcliffe x reader #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #female!reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fluf #dad!harry potter #ri's writing

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month ago

Text

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

Summary: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

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

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding, and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late. He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him.

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you, that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life, you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry. Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do! And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.”

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly. "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question.

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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