The first night of Ben and his band's concert tour, and his nerves were getting the better of him. He anxiously ran his hands through his hair, rehearsing the set with you beside him, far more times than necessary. But when the rehearsals were finally over, he found solace curled up in bed with his head resting on your stomach in the cosy hotel room.

Ben sighed deeply against the soft, delicate skin of your belly, a low growl escaping his lips as the weight of his stress began to press down on him. In moments like these, he was almost certain that only you could ease his anxiety. You were his refuge.

“Fuc—, love, are you alright? Can you breathe?” He lifted his head, concern etched on his face as he checked to ensure he wasn’t crushing you. But when he saw the grin spreading across your face, he realised he’d worried for nothing. “You gave me a right scare, you know that? I mean, between this whole concert madness and…” His voice trailed off as you placed a gentle finger against his lips, silencing him with a quiet shush.

Ben wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he adored these moments. The way you quieted his fears with the simplest of gestures, your playful sass, and the way you seemed to understand him in ways no one else could—oh, how he loved you. You were his sweet sanctuary.

Your gentle scolding was music to his ears, like a mischievous pixie whispering wisdom to a man burdened by his own doubts. Since when had you become the wise one in the relationship? He wasn’t sure, but he relished in it, savouring every second of your reassuring presence. And he had to admit, he found it utterly endearing the way your nose crinkled when you disagreed with him.

With a soft chuckle, Ben shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes twinkling with affection.

“Alright, alright, I get it, Commander. No more fears, just dreams,” he teased, a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned in closer, showering you with kisses.