#benjamin greene x reader

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list:@obscurilicious@the-blind-assassin-12@something-tofightfor@logan-deloss@lexxierave@madamrogers@yannii04@gollyderek@carlaangel86@maydayfigment@vetseras@thisisparadisemylove@malionnes@thesandbeneathmytoes@my-rosegold-soul@delos-destinations@luminex3@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves@witchygagirl@fific7@pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange– you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically.He’sbeen lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering– his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to–”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Here, you’ll get another glimpse into the life of one non-gold digger, Mr. Benjamin Greene, in the form of another series of little moments that all leads up to something much bigger. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 10: Benjamin Greene x reader (requested by the lovely @breanime)

Rating: PG-13ish for mentions of nudity

Word count: 1712

Tag list:@obscurilicious@the-blind-assassin-12@something-tofightfor@logan-deloss@lexxierave@madamrogers@yannii04@gollyderek@carlaangel86@bicevans@maydayfigment@thisisparadisemylove@ladyofnaps@malionnes@thesandbeneathmytoes@crushed-pink-petals-writes

Follower event tag list:@luminex3@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes@witchygagirl@breanime 

If anyone wants to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask!

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading a little bit of this one!

This is related to all other Benjamin Greene x reader fics, which can all be found in my masterlist.

You woke up smiling. Eyes swollen from sleep, you rubbed at them with balled up fists, clearing morning residue from the corners. Reaching upward, you wiggled your fingers as you stretched your arms, feeling the overnight stiffness melt away from your fingertips to your shoulder blades. Your eyes were still adjusting to the sunlight streaming in between the slats of the blinds covering your windows. Pale yellow light decorated the floor in long parallel lines, breaking up the shadows. Benjamin’s soft snores as his chest rose and fell were the only sounds hindering the house from complete silence. It was tranquil. Perfect. 

Rolling onto your right side, you admired the beautiful bouquet of flowers Benjamin had surprised you with the night before. It was bright with spring blooms, pink tulips and pure white irises; pale peach miniature roses, striking orchids, and daffodils the color of the bright sunshine. Eucalyptus leaves and tiny blooms of sweet pea and chamomile as fillers, the arrangement was quite fragrant. It was colorful and different; definitely not the typical flower bouquet. 

“I chose them all,” Benjamin had told you just after bursting in the door, the bouquet wrapped in paper, all long stems and pops of color and a kiss in greeting. “Nothing pre-arranged said Y/N.” He offered the bouquet to you, a slight flushing of his cheeks as he did so. “You’re stunning and remarkable and an amalgamation of beautiful things all mixed perfectly.” He nodded to the flowers, tickling your nose with sweet aromas. “They suit you; they’re mostly wildflowers.”

Your eyes shone with awe and the threat of tears. The wrapping around Benjamin’s hand-picked array crinkled as you carefully accepted them. “You’ve stolen my words,” you said as you glanced down at the flowers. You’d have time to admire them later, but for the time being you were entirely enamored with Benjamin. “Have I forgotten something? Is today significant?” Your brows knitted together in worry as you searched your mind.

“No,” Benjamin said with a chuckle. “Just a Saturday.” He regarded your face, the top knot you wore your hair in, your old oversized university t-shirt and boxer shorts. “You’ve been working.” It was more of a statement than a question. 

“Just finished,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you. Let’s get them in a vase, yeah?” You held out the flowers for Benjamin to take, freeing your hands so you could rummage in the cupboards under the sink. 

You climbed out of bed quietly, making an effort trying not to wake Benjamin. After making a cup of tea, you rummaged around making little to no noise until you found what you were looking for. Using your drawing board as a makeshift tray, you piled the remainder of your supplies on top: pastel paper, tape, and your collection of Prismacolor pastels, as well as colored pencils to outline. Your cup of tea was also precariously balanced atop; your mind had been so trained on your task at hand that you hadn’t thought about the clattering of the cup. Thankfully, Benjamin was a fairly heavy sleeper. 

Once back in the bedroom, you smiled at you peeled over at Benjamin, who hadn’t moved a muscle. Carefully, you placed your drawing board on the floor before sitting down beside it, first placing your tea to the side after taking a sip. Your pastels were put to the side, colored pencils placed in your lap, and you tore off four tiny pieces of tape to secure your pastel paper to your drawing board. Smoothing your hand over the paper, you paid attention to the way it felt beneath your palm, the toothy surface of the paper that was akin to the feeling of sandpaper, only finer. 

You gazed up at your bouquet. You’d all but memorized the way they were arranged in the case, which flowers had thicker stems, how bright the yellow of the daffodils were, how saturated the pink petals of the tulips, the shadows the larger blooms cast over the sweet pea and chamomile. Precariously, you opened the tin your pencils were arranged in, squinting your eyes as you regarded the flowers, then peering into your lap. Your pencils were just used for a rough sketching, an outlining of sorts that would be completely obscured by the pastels as you worked. It had been awhile since you’d  been inspired to play with color, the time to mull over saturation and warmth versus cool, to meticulously muck over the stark difference it was to shadow with pastels instead of charcoal. 

Your thoughts regarding color always started and ended with Benjamin’s eyes, the particular deep, warm brown of his irises, the chestnut undertones and flecks of gold within them. They were a color, you thought, that not even legendary artists could get just right. You loved the way they darkened even more with desire, when his mind was full of nothing except all the different ways he could devour you. 

After about five minutes of sketching later, you looked up from your work and over to Benjamin, who was very much awake, just watching you. You’d been so immersed in your work, you’d missed the change in his breathing. He smiled at you, creases forming at the outer corners of his eyes. “Good morning, love. You should come back to bed.”

Benjamin’s smile was contagious. Since the two of you had met, his smile had always drawn out your own; the expression held with it warmth, affection, and sometimes a bit of mischief. Your smile was broken by laughter at Benjamin’s invitation. 

“I’m working,” you said simply, still wearing a residual smile. Repositioning himself, Benjamin propped himself upward over the pillows. He glanced to the array of supplies around you, garnering that you were playing with color, and color had absolutely nothing to do with charcoal. He raised his brows just a shadow, yet you didn’t have to look up to witness it. Youknew Benjamin Greene. 

“Congratulations on the new job, Y/N! Now, come back to bed and allow me to congratulate you properly.” And there was that smile, the one with a bit of mischief mixed in. 

Playing as if you were toying with the idea, you glanced longing over at your pastels, untouched as of yet. Without another word, you began clearing your lap of kelly green and sunshine yellow, candy apple red and tangerine orange. The pencils slid easily back into their tin container. You heard the rustling of bedsheets as you turned your back and bent to pile your things back into your old drawing board. 

You righted yourself back upward and stretched toward the ceiling, straightening your spine. You turned back toward the bed, but were captured by a pair of strong arms instead. You hugged Benjamin tight around his middle and your eyelashes fluttered against his bare chest as he placed a lingering kiss to your crown. 

“What are you working on, Ms. Kahlo?” Frieda, is it?” A warm breath of laughter followed the slight tickling of your eyelashes over his skin and Benjamin relished in those small, unconscious touches. He held you for a moment longer until you pulled back to nod toward your bouquet.

“Hand-picked flowers by a bloke called Benjamin… something-or-other. He has a good eye for colour, yeah? His name really should be renowned, the surname, too. Benjamin  is just too common a name, but so is Britney and everyone knows when the name is uttered, exactly who you’re talking about… oh, baby, baby.” 

Your impression left a lot to be desired, but that just added to the level of ridiculously adorable you’d hit without trying, and a loud timbre of laughter bounced off the bedroom walls. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your smirk was completely erased as your jaw dropped and your mind whirled. He…what did he just say? It couldn’t have been— he had never—

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden beat of silence throughout the house, just as it had been an hour before. He dipped his head in an effort to catch your eyes. You looked up to see his own, much darker ones, filled with worry. 

“That’s… that’s what the flowers were for, Y/N. I had a bit of… something prepared, just a rambling of things that have made me realize over time that…” His hands slid down your arms, around the curving of your hips and waist, down to the small of your back. “But I was late and I could tell you were working. You were beautifully smudged but I wanted you to hear it. To know. It just wasn’t the right time, and—“

“Benjamin.” Your voice was a whisper as your hands rose to gently press against his chest, but firmly enough for his hands to fall from your back as he took a step back. “Y/N, I’m—“

You turned to see the hurt in his eyes, as if his heart had been pulverized. Turning away, your own heart seizing in your chest, you clutched the frayed ends of your old t-shirt, fabric bunching between your fingers as you lifted it up and over your head. Your hair tumbled down and over your shoulders and you bent to rid yourself of the boxer shorts, pushing them down and stepping out of them. Finally, you slipped between the sheets, the cool material sending a pleasant chill over and under your naked body. 

“I think we have another thing to celebrate,” you spoke finally. Your eyes shined, not with tears but absolute awe. Benjamin blinked, one, two, three times as he strode to the opposite side of the bed and crawled in beside you. 

“You don’t—“

“Shhh.” You hushed him by lightly touching your finger to his lips. The man before you was simply exquisite. “I love you, Benjamin Greene. It’s been for awhile now.”

Shock passed over his features briefly. Before he could say another word, you took his cheeks in your hands, meeting him halfway for a long, lingering, deep kiss. He smiled against your lips and pulled your body atop his own, skin to skin. Drinking you in with darkened eyes, he kissed along the curve of your shoulder. “Show me how much, Y/N.”

You never finished your sketch.

This is the start of a little mini-series in the same line of In the Line of Fire– four parts instead of three, all from different characters: Ryan Brenner, Billy Russo, Logan Delos, and Benjamin Greene, who’s kicking it all off. These aren’t plot-driven, but little snapshots of each character I write for, all tying into the title. I hope reading as enjoyable as it was writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Rating: Fluffy fluff, so read at your own discretion.

Word count:599

Tag list:@obscurilicious@the-blind-assassin-12@something-tofightfor@logan-deloss@lexxierave@madamrogers@gollyderek@yannii04@carlaangel86@vetseras@maydayfigment@thisisparadisemylove@malionnes@thesandbeneathmytoes@delos-destinations@tenhargreeves​@luminex3​@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​@fific7​@everything-lost-and-unsaid​@pheedraws​@my-rosegold-soul​@commanderlola​@leeanncodes​

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask!

Thanks for reading! 

The rise and fall of  your chest was steady, and your breathing deep and rhythmic. You were asleep, but Benjamin was not. He was wide awake, alert, and mesmerized, and all he saw was you. 

The weather was mild, and the two of you had set up camp outside. It had been your suggestion to spend time, if not the entire night, outside with a bottle of chilled Chardonnay ,taking advantage of the weather and star-gazing. Benjamin had met you outside, carrying a blanket under one arm, the stems of two wine glasses clutched between his fingers. You’d already brought the Chardonnay, and you’d pulled out the cork, taking a sip straight from the bottle. He just grinned, standing still on the porch for a few seconds, just watching you. You were whimsy and brilliant and held a contagious spirit. Benjamin was entirely smitten, just as he had been the day the two of you had met, a chance run-in in the corridor of university due to a late start to a meeting he’d scheduled. You were chaos and calm, and the center of his world. 

With the blanket spread over a stretch of grass just a yard from the garden the two of you had planted, Benjamin tapped at his phone and soft jazz colored the air. He extended an arm, palm of his hand facing upward in an invitation to dance. Your arms reached to circle around his neck, forearms resting over his shoulders, and his large hands settled low on your waist. You sang along, albeit a bit off-key, to the classic tune: Someday he’ll come along, the man I love.  You loved Ella Fitzgerald. 

“Her voice is intoxicating,” you managed to murmur between verses. Benjamin pulled you closer, holding you to his chest as the two of you barely swayed. Benjamin acknowledged you with a hum of agreement. 

You’re intoxicating. He dipped his head to press a kiss to the crown of your skull, breathing in deeply. Your hair smelled of coconut with a hint of grapefruit, then some drugstore shampoo you always kept stocked in your shower caddy. The scent would always cause his heart to quicken. 

“Ella’s got nothing on you, love.”

You laughed— it was a sound of pure, unadulterated happiness— and the rest of the night carried on in the same fashion. You and Benjamin danced and sang, you both ignored the quickly forgotten wine flutes he’d brought out earlier, and you shared secrets and stories while passing the bottle of Chardonnay back and forth. The both of you took advantage of the seclusion of your home and your yard, your sighs accompanying the whispers in the wind. 

At some point, with the twinkling of the stars and soft light of the moon, you’d both dozed off, but Benjamin’s sleep didn’t last. He woke with swollen eyes, your face slowly coming into focus, and he smiled sleepily. Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I, he thought to himself— another classic by Ella that you loved.

Your lips were slightly parted, dark eyelashes brushing your cheeks. Propping himself up on one elbow, Benjamin relished in the sight of your bare back, bathed in moonlight. Moving closer, he dipped his head to lightly press his lips to your cool skin, kissing a line down the length of your spine. You stirred and turned over, your eyes never opening as you softly moaned and pulled him closer. Your face was almost obscured with shadows, but the moon illuminated your mouth just before he covered it with his, and despite his waking you, you were smiling. 

I’ve been writing and re-writing and changing versions of this story since May 9th. I wrote I don’t know how many fics between, and I not one idea why this took me so long, but it’s finally here. The lovely @obscuriliciousrequestedimage 12 with Benjamin Greene x reader. 

That being said, aside from a little more coming for Flash (featuring the irreplaceable Billy Russo), this wraps up my follower event. Thank you allso much for participating, for requesting and reading and hopefully enjoying what I’ve come up with. It means the world to me, from the bottom of my heart!

Image prompt 12 :Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating:PG

Word count: 2890 of pure fluff

Tag list:@obscurilicious@the-blind-assassin-12@something-tofightfor@logan-deloss@lexxierave@madamrogers@yannii04@gollyderek@carlaangel86@maydayfigment@vetseras@thisisparadisemylove@malionnes@thesandbeneathmytoes@delos-destinations@luminex3@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes@tenhargreeves@witchygagirl@fific7@pheedraws@my-rosegold-soul@russobill

If you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM!

Special thanks to @something-tofightfor for beta reading this monstrosity far too many times.

I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

You were filthy and so was Benjamin. The two of you were seated on the ground outside, caked with soil and dirt and laughing and grinning like fools. In front of you was a small pile of vegetables. But they weren’t just any vegetables. They weren’t bought at a farmers market or picked up from a grocery store. They were, of course grown, but home grown, at your home, and by you and Benjamin. They were planted and nurtured and cultivated by the two of you together, and despite his playful reservations and general eye-rolling in the beginning phases, you and Benjamin— neither of you having any knowledge about gardening whatsoever— had successfully grown vegetables. And you found the irony of it all hilarious. 

Piled haphazardly in front of you were long orange carrots, radishes just a shade shy of mulberry, and beetroot so caked with dirt, they resembled potatoes. You’d even been able to gather a couple of your zucchini , and your radishes were close to being ready for picking as well. 

“We were born with green thumbs. We just didn’t know until now.” You turned to Benjamin and grinned, happiness shining in your eyes, and it was unmistakably obvious how genuine it was.

Your relationship with the man was different than anything you’d experienced before. Benjamin wasn’t one that never had tricks up his sleeve, but he didn’t base time with you on grand gestures. He didn’t get annoyed when he came home with plans to take you to an impromptu dinner and you were covered in charcoal dust. Benjamin understood that the smallest of moments, the most mundane of activities, the parts of life that could be seen as tedious or necessary, didn’t have to feel that way. There was always room to spin things into something more meaningful. An infinite amount of room. 

You could be just as ingenuitive and impulsive as Benjamin was. There was never a dull moment, never a lack of surprise. The garden the both of you sat in front of in awe, the soil and mud that you’d both be scrubbing off in the shower until the water grew cold was an impulsive idea, and on your part. You’d woken up one Tuesday morning with the idea that you had to plant a garden. 

“Benjamin,” you’d said, sleepily, scooting closer toward him as morning light streamed through the windows and gauzy curtains. White sunlight bathed the floor in swaths, and as you curled up to press your body against his back, the idea struck you. It was a eureka moment, the kind you saw on old Saturday morning cartoons that was always accompanied with a lightbulb turning on. 

“B,” you repeated, so alert it was as if you’d had several cups of the morning coffee you hadn’t bothered to make quite yet, “B, let’s plant a garden.”

 It hadn’t taken too long for Benjamin to agree, though you’d given him time to wake up and eat breakfast first. You couldn’t believe he actually conceded, yet he laid out a disclaimer of sorts beforehand: he was not, under any circumstances, a gardener. That washer thing. I was never allowed to help, not even to assist by handing over a tool.  Far be it for me to taint her process just by being there.  For Benjamin, just stepping foot into Julia’s greenhouse garnered a look of annoyance and feeling of intrusion. It had made the idea of ever venturing into any sort of agricultural task turn sour… that was, until you had mentioned it. Benjamin was convinced that anything you touched was magic, like you’d been sprinkled with fairy dust– a reason you’d laughed about once that had turned into a childish inside joke.  Who were you to debunk a theory that worked so well in your favor?

But you weren’t a gardener either, you reminded him. And I’m not her, you added silently. I’m nothing like her. Any and all expertise you’d had with plant life was either in sketching them or bringing your work outside instead of staying  cooped up in your studio.

“We can learn together,” you promised, your voice bright and a glimmer of excitement shining in your eyes. Benjamin had pulled you close, your cheek pressed to his chest, and he kissed the crown of your head, lingering there to breathe in the scent of your shampoo , entirely as enticing and unique as you were. 

“You’re entirely aware that I can’t say no to you.” One corner of his mouth turned upward into a half-smile. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, blinking innocently 

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Greene?” He leaned down to kiss you again, and you playfully darted from his arms, laughing as you turned to walk away. You turned your head to shoot him a wink followed by a cheeky grin. “You’re not ever meant to, B.”

                                                ****   ****   ****

“Why did you choose root vegetables?!” 

Standing upright and, wiping at your hairline with the back of your hand, you surveyed your work so far. The raised beds you and Benjamin built before planting hadn’t been too difficult, yet he built twice as much as you had, and  in the same amount of time. “Are you sure you’ve not done this before?”

Squinting up at you from where he was squatting, Benjamin shrugged in a joking manner. “I did my research. And because root vegetables are some of the most difficult to cultivate and grow… and especially to plant.”

You threw up your arms in defeat and brushed your soiled hands against your denim-clad thighs. “Unbelievable!” You were smirking,  however, as you turned to walk inside for bottles of water. “

“Go big or go home,” Benjamin called after you. 

You called back to him,“I’m already here!”

Just an hour later, you and Benjamin had managed to plant several plots of seeds: his chosen root vegetables of radishes, beetroot and carrots, and rutabaga. You’d picked up zucchini and cucumber seeds as well, but decided to save those for planting the next day. Gardening was hard work.  After a bit of clean-up, you kissed Benjamin’s face, wiped soil from his cheek, and went inside to clean yourself up.  After a hot shower, you promptly fell asleep across the bed, towel still wrapped around you.

Because of your impromptu accidental nap, you woke around 11:30. Now that you were awake and Benjamin was asleep, you had time; you were working on a surprise for Benjamin. It was an idea that had entered your mind the moment you’d started to pluck packets of seeds off the shelf the morning prior. Another eureka moment, which seemed to be occurring much more often in regard to this entire gardening thing . 

Garden markers seemed necessary, but aesthetics were important in your artist’s mind. Regular, plain garden markers just wouldn’t do, so you’d decided to mix things up a bit.

Benjamin had  fallen asleep sitting up in bed, glasses askew and a textbook in his lap. You seized the opportunity, stopping by your chaotic supply closet and pulling out several plastic bags. You put a great amount of effort into keeping the rustling to a minimum as you sneaked outside onto the front porch. 

The sky was clear— stars shining down like glitter dusted in the sky, the new moon beautifully bright. The temperature was mild, even a bit chilly when a breeze blew, and there was no humidity to hinder paint drying. One by one, you carefully slid each wooden garden marker from its bag, softly speaking to yourself as you lined them up, side-by-side. 

“Radishes… carrots, beetroot, rutabaga…zucchini, cucumber.” You sat back on your heels, eyeing the six blank signs you were turning into plant markers. Peeking into the remainder of the plastic bags, you removed paint, brushes, and other essentials, arranging them to your right. “Radishes, you’re up first,” you said under your breath, and with one swipe of red paint, you were off. In just over one hour, you were finished, each garden sign pushed off to the side and left outdoors to dry. Paint, brushes, and the like were gathered together and put back in the closet-meticulously - as to not disturb Benjamin, whom you were sure was still asleep.

When you tiptoed back into your bedroom, Benjamin was just as you’d left him. You lifted his book from his lap, closing it and gently laying it on his bedside table.Then, you attempted to slide his glasses the rest of the way off his face without waking him were unsuccessful. 

He stirred, and you froze for a moment. He was still asleep. Gently laying his glasses atop his book, you clicked off his lamp and climbed into bed, Benjamin rolled onto his side and scooped you closer, your back against his chest. You fell asleep almost instantly, muscles slightly nagging with ache as your breathing fell in time with his.

                                              ****   ****   ****

You were awakened with the slight prickling of a beard to your skin and warm, tiny kisses peppered over your cheek. Instead of your usual morning groan, you smiled and hummed in contentment, eyes still closed. Sleepily, you shifted to face him and your grin faded with a puckering of your lips, waiting expectantly. He kissed you softly once, following it up with a loud, playful smacking of his mouth on yours. 

“Coffee?” you offered. Before Benjamin had answered, you were already making your way back across the bed and planting your feet on the hardwood floor. “You stay here, coffee in bed seems essential today.” 

You were using liquid fuel as an excuse to sneak outside and peek at your handiwork, maybe even put each plant marker in place if you worked quickly.  Yawning as you set the coffee pot to brew, you semi-quietly slipped outside, leaving the door open slightly. The morning was balmy, but not humid. Catching sight of the work you’d done last night, you tiptoed across the porch and glanced down at the painted signs with a small smile. Sketching with charcoal might have been your favorite, the most honed artistic craft you indulged in, but painting brought a different sort of tranquility. You’d taken enough classes while working toward your degree that you were comfortable with painting, and it showed in your handiwork. 

The faint aroma of brewing coffee tickled your nose, but you had just enough time. Your muddy shoes from the day before were just to the side of the door, and you slipped them on quickly before stacking the wooden planks and carrying them down the steps and in the direction of the garden. The first plot of seeds were radishes, and you carefully chose a spot that wouldn’t affect Benjamin’s work.. Placing the remaining five signs on the ground, you stepped around the beds the both of you had raised. You realized then, as you swore you could feel someone watching you, that you’d probably need some sort of shovel or other garden tool to break up the dirt and secure the markers in place. 

“Coffee’s ready.” Benjamin’s voice called out, and you stood upright quickly. Shit. 

You waved at him sheepishly and made your way back toward the house. “I need to work on my timing, obviously,” you replied as you walked, your calf muscles and quads screaming with each step. “Are you as sore as I am?” you asked him. 

You slipped out of your dirty shoes as quickly as you’d put them on before, leaving them where you’d found them before approaching Benjamin,  the man holding a mug of steaming coffee in each hand. Holding out the one that was lighter with creamer, he looked down at you with a quirked brow and crooked half-smile. “Gardening without me? Were you sabotaging my radishes, Y/N?” His expression changed then into one of widened dark eyes and a slightly open mouth, and you laughed at Benjamin’s dramatics as you sat with your coffee on the top step leading to the ground. You patted the stone step you settled on, signaling for Benjamin to join you. 

“You’ve foiled my plan!”  You may have still had a touch of sleepiness in your voice, but you felt completely awake, excited about what you’d done for him. Taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid, you angled your legs to the right as Benjamin joined you, naturally turning toward him. “Today, radish sabotage. Tomorrow, it’s the carrots. I’ve got an entire schedule made out. I’m quite the seasoned saboteur, you know.”

Benjamin was amused, eyebrows quirked and his mouth curled upward into a smirk. He allowed himself to shamelessly stare, his eyes surveying your face before roaming down the rest of you, your legs exposed in the old pair of shorts you wore that were once a pair of sweatpants. You stared back, watching him and smiling over the rim of your coffee mug. Finally, his eyes moved back upward, catching yours. 

“Are you checking me out, Benjamin Greene?” He responded with a cheeky grin, taking your mug from you and setting it to the side with his.  “Hey!” you protested as he stood and reached behind you for his shoes. You reached over him to take your coffee back, but Benjamin was too quick for you. In one swift motion, he scooped you into his arms, kissed your lips, and threw you over his shoulder, proceeding to walk toward your newly-planted garden. 

You burst into laughter, your ponytail hanging in your face and you kicked your legs just once in the air.  “Benjamin! I haven’t got any shoes on…” He stopped as he reached the area of the yard the two of you had dug up and raised into beds just the day before. You just sort of hung there for a moment, gently batting your fists against his lower back, saying his name again. 

He readjusted you until he was holding you in his arms again, and he looked down at you with absolute love and adoration in his eyes. 

“I was wondering what you were doing out here at midnight.” 

You grinned up at him, shrugging sheepishly. “I didn’t want to wake you,” you laughed. Obviously, he’d only been half-asleep. 

Benjamin looked down at the ground, nodding toward the wooden signs you’d painted the night before laying haphazardly on the ground. They’d come out nicely, the names of your vegetables in their infancy painted in poppy red, vivid blue, kelly green. Your gaze followed his, just glancing at the plant markers you’d personalized. 

“Who put those there? What a nice gift,” you teased. You were actually very pleased at how they’d come out. They looked much better in the morning sunlight than they had as you painted by moonlight and then dim porch light that hung from the porch ceiling. 

When you looked back up at Benjamin to gauge his reaction, he met you with a kiss to your lips. You sighed against his mouth as he teased with his tongue, coaxing you to do the same. He tasted like coffee, diluted with just a drop of milk and too much sugar.  When he pulled back, you were breathless.

                                                  ****  ****  ****

Lying back in the grass, you squinted upwards at the sun as you smiled. You were already sprinkled with dirt, so lying down and getting soil and grass stains on the back of your clothes wasn’t any matter. It struck you again how ironic it was that you and Benjamin had actually planted a garden and, with no help, raised and cultivated vegetables. They’d actually thrived. 

You caught Benjamin’s eye, and he laid back in the grass beside you. He offered you a wink when he got settled. 

“All the pulling roots tired you out, Y/N?” he teased, punctuating his question with a peck to the tip of your nose.  Turning your head to the side, leaves undoubtedly stuck in your hair, you felt your heart swelling with love for the man lying beside you. 

Without thinking, you tangled your fingers with his and said what was on your mind. “Why don’t we sow some more seeds?” You frowned momentarily. That sounded not at all like what you were actually thinking.  “Or… why don’t you sow some permanently… here?” The space you called your own was quaint, but you were sure you had enough room to tuck away Benjamin’s belongings. He spent more time at your place than he did at his own, anyway, and it just made sense.  “After all, you’ve got a garden to tend to now.”

Benjamin stayed still for a moment, just searching your face, appreciating every feature, and then without warning, rolled over and hovered over you. You pursed your lips, suppressing a laugh. 

“You’ll decorate my moving boxes?” he asked, warm chestnut eyes shining. “You’ve got leftover paint, a closet full of art supplies. Perhaps some glitter to add a touch of pizazz.” His voice was low, his words tinted with laughter, but you could tell by the expression on his face that he was happy.

“I take that as a yes.” Your grin lit up your entire face. “Even better than I did those plant markers,” you promised.And with a simple raise of your head to seal the deal with a kiss, Benjamin readily reciprocated, then whispered in your ear.

“You’re too good to me, Y/N.”I hope you’ve got room for all my books.”