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#NEXT CHAPTER IS PROBABLY GONNA BE IN BUDDY'S POV
linddzz · 1 month
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Oooh wip game! Do tell more about the Audacity in Human Form pretty please 👀🤲🏻
So the actual idea I had for the entire Issue that gets in the way of them getting together was:
The Time Out Orb followed by all the forced personal growth in Season1 gave Morpheus juuuuust enough self awareness that he has started to figure out who the common denominator of all his failed romances is. Combine that with his human fetish and you get him actually kinda being afraid of what he might do to Hob if they went All Out Romantic.
Which leads to: The moment he lets himself admit to himself what his feelings are, he's doing the internal equivalent of desperately holding himself back like a beast on a fraying leash, while horribly aware that Hob keeps doing the equivalent of serving himself on a platter to said beast.
(he has NOT grown enough as a person to know that if he doesn't want to keep having these tense moments of Temptation then he maybe should take a break from seeing his Good Buddy Pal.)
The upcoming chapter is probably gonna be the longest of them all, and it's where Morpheus has his little "Oh. Oh. I'm. Not gonna be able to be Chill about this" moment :)
From Hob's POV the "holding himself back on a leash" is gonna keep looking like this little moment from the chapter after next:
”You have no idea, do you?” Morpheus’ whisper thrums in the air. It makes the floorboards shiver. The eyes flash like daggers, and his voice slides into tones of a wyrm shifting in the deepest depths of the darkest cavern. “You must not, to dare me so flagrantly.” This is supposed to scare me. Hob thinks. In a way, it sort of is. There is a bit of his instinctual hindbrain that knows he's being stared down by the most dangerous thing he's ever come across. The terrified hindbrain gets his heart up to speed, and it begins to pound in his chest. It's a bit of him that is clanging the bells and reminding him that Dream is temperamental, proud, and as unpredictable as a forest fire. “I must not.” Hob answers. The bit of him that remembers what self preservation is thinks he shouldn't be smiling right now, shouldn't be tilting his head so he can better see the way those two stars are blazing. “Such bravado.” The voice is softer, a razor slicing through silk in a dark room. Then it gets stronger, pulsing through the air in a way that pushes at Hob's skull, though it sounds like Morpheus is half talking to himself. “Perhaps I should make it clearer. How wrong you are. How much I deny. How much better that is.” One of Dream's hands moves in a flash that stops only a few inches up between them, fingers curled like talons where it hovers in the air. Once, on a ship, Hob stood at the highest point in the crows nest, swaying with the black night water so, so far below. The sky was the expanse of stars that it used to be everywhere, before cities drowned them out. And from that high, swaying point, feeling like the smallest thing on the earth, he watched a storm rolling like a mountain towards them. The edge of it was a curved wall, an unstoppable churning, the black of it swallowing the night and bursting it with explosions of lightning. He couldn't die, but that didn't seem to mean much when he was a tiny thing high above the black sea, beneath the black sky, with the black lightning-toothed storm consuming it all on its way towards him. It was, present company excluded, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Maybe you should.” Hob breathes.
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toppersjeep · 7 months
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Chapter 2- All For Love Charles Leclerc
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Elena’s POV
“Wake up” Daniel said. “No” I said throwing a blanket over my head. “I did make you coffee also isn’t your Netflix thing today” Daniel said. “Yeah probably” I said. “Thought we promised never again” he said. “Yeah we both said that and here we are” I said.
“We can’t keep doing this” he said sitting on the couch next to me. “Yeah I know” I said sitting up. “You know I love you but” he said looking at me. “But what” I said getting up and grabbing my pants. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with this” Daniel said.
“The whole hooking up thing and staying friends” I said putting my clothes back on. “Yeah that I can’t do it anymore” Daniel said. “Okay” I said. “Elena sometimes it’s hard for me to look at you and this” he said I sat down beside him.
“This what Daniel” I said. “Elena I broke up with you because you wanted someone else I know you don’t wanna admit it” Daniel said. “Danny I didn’t say I did” I said looking at him. “You don’t think I see the way you look at him” Daniel said.
“You used to look at me that way and then all the sudden it was Charles” Daniel said. “Why are we having this conversation again” I said. “Elena I love you but I can’t keep this up you are just doing this because..you can’t have him” Daniel said. “I gotta go.. I’ll see you at the track” I said.
“Elena” Daniel tried to say but I was already out the door. And of course April was outside our apartment with George she just had this disgusted look on her face. “April” I said but she stormed off. “Bad move el” George said.
“I know George thanks” I said. “She’s really pissed off” George said. “Okay so is Daniel I can’t deal with this bull shit” I said.
I showered and changed and then headed to the track in Monaco. I parked by car by Charles. Who had just gotten out of his car.
“The Mercedes driver doesn’t own a Mercedes” Charles said with a funny face. “I own many cars Charles” I said. “But you chose to drive the mustang lord” Charles said I playfully pushed him. “Piss off” I said. “Ooo you are filming for Netflix today huh mon chéri” Charles said putting an arm around me.
“Yes now I gotta go or I’m gonna be late dummy” I said running away. “Your shoes untied by the way” he yelled. “Ugh” I said stopping to tie my shoe. Then I was greeted by Roscoe. “Look Roscoe your favorite” Lewis said. “Roscoe my buddy” I said hugging him. He gave me a big kiss.
“I missed you little buddy did you get more handsome” I said petting him. “He definitely did” Lewis said. “Okay I gotta run ros ill snuggle you later” I said.
I then went into the filming room and sat on the chair. A lot of people were staring at me.
(Blue bold will be DTS(Drive to Survive) Narration By El)
“Oh introduce myself” I said smiling at the camera. “Yes whenever you’re ready Elena” the producer said. “Hi I’m Elena Verstappen and I’m a car model” I said everyone laughed.
“Okay just kidding I’m Elena Verstappen and I drive for the Mercedes Amg formula one team” I said. “And well it’s pretty great” I said smiling.
“So can we ask about your relationship with Daniel Ricciardo” the producer asked. “Ahh Daniel I knew you guys wanted the gossip” I said. “Daniel and I dated for about 3 years” I said. “Uhh yeah and that’s that” I said. “The age gap didn’t bother you” they asked. “No it didn’t we were in love you know it sight matter what everyone else thought” I said. “Were in love” the producer asked.
“I’ll always love Daniel he was my first real love” I said. “And I’m thankful for the memories with him” i said. “But now I’m focused on becoming a world champion”I said with a smile.
____
After filming I went out to find Charles. We were supposed to meet for lunch before everyone saw the new cars for this season.
“Lando have you seen Char” I asked walking over to him. “Yeah he’s over by the Ferrari paddock outside” Lando said. “Thank you Lando” I said running away. I went over to the Ferrari paddock. Charles was outside talking to Carlos.
“Ahh there she is” Charles said. “Hey losers” I said. “Loser oh please” Carlos said I hugged him. “Oh shush you missed me” I said he smiled. “Sure not like I saw you last night” Carlos said. “How’s your mom doing” Charles asked.
“Good she’s been feeling better” I said. “You’ll have to take me to see her when she’s feeling up to it” Charles said. “I will she misses you” I said. “So lunch then” Charles said. “Yes” I said.
Charles and I grabbed food and sat at a little picnic table. We caught up on a couple things while we waited. It was nice to have him to talk to. He was one of the few people here who actually treated me equally.
“So are you and Charlotte doing good” I said. He hesitated. “Ummm.. we broke up I ended it” Charles said. “Oh I’m sorry” I said. “It’s alright El it wasn’t working plus there’s” he said then stopped himself. “What char” I said.
“It doesn’t matter El” Charles said. “Oh it’s a secret then” I said. “Ummm you know I should be heading over to the paddock” Charles said. “Alright I’ll see you” I said he hugged me quickly.
“Mmmh see you later” Charles said. “That was interesting” Addie said. “What about it Addie” I said. “Do you not see the way he looks at you” Addie said. “He’s my best friend we’ve been best friends for years” I said.
“Friends sure keep telling yourself that.. you still wear that necklace he gave you years ago” Addie said. “It was a birthday present” I said. “Friends don’t give friends things like that” Addie said. “Addie” I said. “Shoot look at the time I gotta go deal with your brother” Addie said.
“What Lando” I said as he stared at me. “Oh ummm don’t know but she’s right” Lando said.
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callsigndragon · 1 year
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The Christmas Date | Chapter 5: 'tis the damned season
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Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader
(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)
Wordcount: 3.9k (i had to stop writing bc it kept getting longer and longer)
Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?
(there won't be smut in this series)
Warnings: prOtectIVE ROOSTER, mentions of having babies, mentions of food, drinks, alcohol, Solo being a fucking asshole and a creep, angry rooster, ROOSTER'S POV AT THE END. (i've probably missed something but please, do tell me and i'll add it to the warnings)
A/N: okay so this is literally turning in something i'm sure nobody expected, but that's why i love it so much. Tell me your opinions about this chapter!
Taglist:@ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp @k-k0129 @mygyn @castle-bookworms-world @chaoticversion @one-sweet-gubler @loveforaugust
(If you want to be added, write in the comments!)
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You are woken up the next morning by a loud, incessant knocking. You open your eyes, blinking a few times before searching for the tiny, red clock on your bedside table. It’s too early for someone to be that energetic. 
“Aunt Thena, Uncle Roos, it’s time to wake up!” Jesse calls you two. 
Looking at the white door, you try to remember if either Rooster or you locked it the night before. The only thing you can recall is being very worried about Rooster’s words and the meaning behind them. 
"Shit," you murmur under your breath, taking one pillow to throw to the man lying on the floor, who is completely unaware of his nephew's plans. “Rooster, get up!” you yell quietly after the pillow hits his face, so only the two of you can hear. 
“Thena, shut up. Let me sleep.” He turns to the other side, and in the meantime, you grab another pillow, preparing to throw it at him, but you don’t get that opportunity. Rooster’s brain registered the sound, causing him to get up from the floor. He throws the blankets he's been using as an improvised mattress over the comforter, and the pillow collides with your face. "Next time, don't throw the pillow,” he complains, “Move over!" 
"I'm already on my side of the bed?" 
"As if I would let my girlfriend sleep on the side closest to the door." He grumbles, grabbing you by the waist and moving you to the other side of the bed, which is near the window.He moves to the side of the bed where you have been sleeping these last two days and lies down.  
Jesse pushes the door open. He’s giggling and quickly making a beeline towards your bed. 
"Good morning, Jesse," says the older man, his voice low and husky as he has just awoken. 
"Why are you sleeping in the same bed?" your nephew questions. 
You look at Rooster, his worried eyes moving to yours in an instant. He doesn't want to lie to Jesse. You don't want either, but it's important that everybody believes that this relationship is real. 
"Uncle Roos and Aunt Thena are dating, peanut" 
"Ohhh, she's your girlfriend?" inquires the kid. 
"Yes, buddy. Thena is my girlfriend" 
"Kiss her!" 
"What?" Rooster deadpans. You just sit there, looking at the exchange between the two of them. 
"Kiss her," Jesse insists. "I wanna see you kiss" 
"C'mon, pal, we've got to go down and have breakfast." Bradley leaves the kid on the bed, looking at you. “We told Sarah we were doing pancakes this morning”
“Oh, it's true. And then we’re gonna decorate the tree!” you say, clapping your hands. There’s something blissful about being around the tree with the family, Jesse singing carols with Sarah, Iceman, and Mav arguing to see where the F-14 models should be hung... Just a normal Christmas. 
“But can I see you kiss? Please” you look at your fake boyfriend, knowing that there is no way you can get out of this situation without kissing him. 
"C'mere" you say, moving closer to Rooster and whispering low enough for him to hear. "Just a quick peck, it won't kill you" 
He nods, leaning down to press his lips softly against yours. It's not a proper kiss. It feels like a tender peck between toddlers. But there's a warm feeling inside you, something you cannot quite understand, that makes you want to smile when you pull away. But the smile never reaches your mouth because of what you see in front of you. 
Rooster's eyes are closed. 
Closed. 
Who closes his eyes for a peck? 
Does he think you're so ugly that he has to close his eyes to accept the kiss? 
Jesse's clapping hands snap you out of your thoughts. "I don't remember Mom and Dad kissing. Now I can remember Uncle Roos and Aunt Thena kissing" he explains, getting up from the bed and going downstairs to get ready for the pancakes. 
"We're such bad godparents..." you mutter, sitting in bed, hiding your face behind your hands. 
Rooster kneels in front of you, moving your hands away and holding them between his. "Hey, think about this. We will not be angry with each other when this ends because it's not real. It will be the same, he's not going to be in the middle. It's not like we're gonna get a divorce, okay?" 
You nod, squeezing Rooster's hand. "Thank you" 
"Now help me get those pancakes done, or I will add salt instead of sugar" 
You get up, following Rooster to the kitchen. "It wouldn't be the first time." 
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Once all the pancakes have been done, you sit next to Rooster, stealing the chocolate from him. Your pancakes always have chocolate on them. 
"You have such a sweet tooth," Bradley comments, smiling a bit at the amount of chocolate on your plate. 
"And I'm proud of it," you retort, making him chuckle. This has to be the most peaceful conversation you've ever had with him. 
"I don't want to know how your kids will turn out," Sarah laughs, causing you to cough and Rooster to pat your back to relieve the coughing. 
"Kids?" he questions, his voice raising an octave. 
"It seems like a pretty serious relationship to me, you sure are thinking about the future," she continues. "How many kids are you gonna have, Y/n?"
"Mom, leave them be," Becca cuts in, trying to avoid the topic. 
"Honey, I need to know if I'm going to have more grandsons! Your brother told me yesterday that he doesn't want to be a father," Sarah says, nodding to Nick, who shakes his head, as if confirming that his future does not include children. "And you don't want to marry again, so they are my last chance!" 
"Darling, you shouldn't be asking those questions." Iceman shakes his head, pushing his plate away from him. 
"Tom, I want to be a grandma again. "I only have a grandson," she insists, you can only concentrate on the pancake in front of you. 
"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but none of them have any obligation to give you kids." Tom is getting angry; his smile dropped long ago, and he's gritting his teeth, making the jaw muscles very visible. 
"I raised them! They call me Aunt Sarah" 
"No. Terry raised Y/n, Carole raised Bradley. We just took care of them when Terry decided to leave her life behind and move to New York, and Carole... Damn, why are you making me say all of this out loud? Sarah you're acting like a child" 
There are tears in your eyes. Your mom and dad... They waited until you turned 18 to get a divorce. You couldn't blame any of them; you've seen during your childhood how the two of them became strangers living under the same roof. There were heated arguments, some crying, some yelling, and the occasional object thrown by your mom to make her point valid, and most of the time it was you who had to collect all the broken pieces of a vase or buy a new picture frame for the photo that your mom used to make Slider feel guilty. 
It was a picture of the three of you from the day you were born. 
They're not bad parents... but being around each other turned them into toxic, harmful individuals. Iceman told you once that there are some perfect couples that, once they get married, end up hating each other.
The divorce made them better parents. Your dad took more interest in your life and became more supportive. Your mom called you every week, genuinely interested in everything you were achieving by yourself. Before that, you felt like an object that they used to argue about. When they were thousands of miles apart, you felt like a person again. 
"Sarah, my daughter will do whatever she wants to do," your dad snaps, tired of the topic and how it's making you lower your head more and more. 
You're glad that your dad has your back now, even though he wasn't there in the past. He's trying to fix all the mistakes he made, and you know it. 
But some things are easy to forgive and hard to forget. 
"Thank you, dad," you try to smile, but Slider's expression indicates that he, too, is concerned about the future of this relationship. 
Rooster sighs, letting the fork fall on the plate, the sound startling all of you. "Listen, I'm gonna say this once, and only once. Whatever we decide to do with our relationship, it's our call. You don't have anything to say or comment about what we do, what we don't, or how we do it. I don't know if we're going to marry or if this is going to end in a year or tomorrow, but all you need to care about is that I love her, that I care for her, and that I will never do anything to hurt her. Thanks for the pancakes, fly girl," he says, getting up, kissing your head, and leaving the house. 
"I'll go talk to him," Mav offers, but you get up before him, excusing yourself and following him outside. 
"Roos?" 
"I'm here," he says, and you follow his voice to one of the porch benches. You sit next to him, remaining silent for a few seconds. "I'm sorry" 
"It's not your fault" 
"C'mon, Thena. You can be angry. They asked you about babies. Babies!” 
“Rooster, it’s not that big of a deal” you claim, but the truth is that it has affected you a bit. Sarah was treating you like a walking incubator for a second. As if having children was something you owed anyone. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
“You know, I've never...” you begin, only to be interrupted by him. 
“Don’t have to explain anything to me, or anyone else. You don’t owe anything to any of them. For fuck’s sake, if she wants a baby so bad, I’ll get her a dog” he jokes, making you smile a bit. 
“You know, the dog will probably try to jump over the fence the same day you bring it home” 
He chuckles, moving his hand to your knee and squeezing it softly. “Look at that smile, that’s my Grouchy”
You groan, punching his shoulder. “You were doing so good for a second, I almost thought you were being a normal human being for once” 
“I’m a normal human” he argues, getting up from the bench and moving to the door. 
“Last time I checked, you were a freaking chicken," you say as you walk inside, searching for Jesse. You have to decorate the tree before getting ready to see Mandy and Solo. 
When it rains, it pours.
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“How the fuck do you wear a suit better than most men?” Rooster questions, opening the door of the car for you. From where you are, you can see the pub and some familiar faces here and there. 
Mandy had texted Rooster early in the afternoon, when you were finishing with all the Christmas decorations inside the house, to tell him that Solo thought going to dinner after some drinks at the pub would be a good idea. So he had made a reservation. 
You nearly choked Rooster with a Christmas garland. He never blocked Mandy's number? A complete idiot.
“It’s a natural talent,” you brag, getting out of the car and buttoning the jacket up. It’s one of Becca’s suits that she wears on special occasions. You didn’t bring clothes for a social gathering like this, and she was more than happy to lend you something. 
“You look really good. Mandy’s gonna be mad” he states, offering you his hand. He’s opted for a more mature look than the one he’s used to, with some black slacks, a black shirt, and a leather jacket. 
“Well, I'd be mad too if my ex entered the bar with a new girl and looked like that,” you say, moving your hand up and down to signal his outfit. 
"Wait, is that a compliment?” he raises an eyebrow, incredulity in his voice. 
“Treasure it, you won’t hear another one from me anytime soon” 
Rooster locks the car and grabs your hand, walking towards the pub. He stops at the door. “Is PDA an option?” 
“Make her pay, Bradshaw,” you agree, opening the door and walking inside. Rooster's hand finds its place on the small of your back, moving to your hip once you see Mandy and Solo in one of the booths. "Lord, I can see her cleavage from here," you whisper, looking at him. You're thankful they haven't seen you yet. 
"She's showing her most interesting personality traits," he mutters, making you burst out laughing. He kisses your temple. "C'mon, you're doing me a great favor here. But if Solo says something, we're leaving" 
"Rooster, I can handle it now," you try to persuade him, but he refuses. 
"First, you don't need to handle unsolicited, disgusting compliments from him. And second, it's my job to make you angry. I won't let him take that from me" 
You elbow him in the stomach. "I can always leave, you know?" 
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, his face contorted in pain. "Please, don't go"
"I never thought you were one to beg" 
"Shut up, princess" 
And it's back. That damned pet name. Why does he call you like that? It's not the name, it's how he says it. How it feels to be embedded with other feelings. Mockery. Loathe. Reproach. 
You don't deserve any of them.  
"Y/n! Bradley! Over here" yells Mandy over the crowd. She waves at you, smiling. 
"Why are they sitting on different sides of the table?" Rooster asks, waving back at Mandy.
"So he can see her boobs," you explain, knowing that that's probably the only reason. 
You walk slowly to the booth. "My only options here are letting you sit next to him or in front of him?" 
You hadn't realized that until Rooster brought it up but it's true. Did he make it on purpose? "I already want to leave," you whisper, only a few feet away from the pilot and his girlfriend. 
"I got this" he whispers back, winking at you. "Hello, guys. Sorry to make you wait, I didn't want to leave the house when I saw this precious woman dressed like this" he looks at you with shiny eyes, and it makes you wonder where he got such good acting skills. 
Just like this morning, half of the things he says are lies, but they are said with confidence and determination. No one could ever guess that he is faking it. He definitely should have pursued an acting career instead of becoming a naval aviator. 
"Oh, I get it. If my girl dressed like that, clothes wouldn't have stayed on." Solo jokes, and it makes you shiver. Rooster's hand, still on your hip, moves up under your jacket, caressing your back softly and muttering a soft 'it's okay' that only you can hear. 
"I'm sorry for liking my dress," Mandy says in a teasing tone, but you can see hurt in her eyes. You almost feel bad for her. Almost. 
Rooster sits next to Solo, and you move to the other side of the table, but his hand grips your wrist, stopping you. He looks at you with a silent plea in his eyes to trust him. 
You walk back to him, his hands moving to your middle and making you sit on his lap. It’s weird how, if it were any other person, you would have run away in an instant. And even though you hate Rooster, you know that he wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. Rooster is just trying to make Solo understand that you’re taken. And his comments are unwelcome. 
“Bradley, you can’t leave her alone for two seconds?” Mandy jokes. 
“We don’t have many chances to act like a normal couple. I want to cherish every moment I have” he simply responds, his left hand on your hip, the right one squeezing your knee. 
“That’s what happens when you date someone from your team.” Solo laughs. Man, you’re not funny. Shut up. 
“Oh no, it’s not because of that. It's just that we're always deployed, and khakis are not the best outfit to wear on a date," you explain, looking at Rooster who hasn't stopped looking at you since you sat down. 
"You look beautiful in everything, fly girl" 
Suddenly, you’re 17 again. He said those same words to you the night before prom, when your date ditched you for the popular girl. You bought a dress for yourself, without anyone’s help. You took two different part time jobs to earn enough money to buy that dress. It wasn’t a cheap one, and even though your parents would have given you the money if you asked, you wanted to do it on your own. Rooster came home that night to your house, you were in your room on the verge of tears, and when you told him what was wrong, he hit you with one of your stuffed animals. 
“Bradley, what the fuck?” 
“I don’t want to see you crying for an asshole like Tim Johnson” he stated, raising the stuffed teddy bear as a warning. 
“He's an asshole, yes. But look at me. I’m an idiot in an expensive dress,” you muttered, turning away from the mirror. 
“No. You are breathtaking. And that idiot doesn’t know what he’s missing” 
“Do you really mean it?” 
He took your hand in his and turned you around to face your reflection once more. “You look beautiful in everything, fly girl” 
You went to prom alone the next day. Your friends were there with you, and it was the most perfect night you could have ever asked for. 
“It’s the second time you say that, Roos” 
“You remember it?” he asks, a bit shocked by it. 
“Of course! It was the reason I went to prom. I felt confident in that dress” 
“Oh, you two did not go to prom together?” Mandy asks, sipping from his Cosmopolitan. 
“Well…” Rooster chuckles, a bit embarrassed. "She has no idea, but... I bought a suit and went to her house that day to take her to prom.” 
You must look like a deer in headlights, because Rooster laughs even more when he faces you. “Are you serious?” 
He nods, his cheeks turning red, and looks away from you. The intensity of your stare it’s too much for him to handle. You give him a quick peck on the cheek. “We’ll talk about that later” 
During the next thirty minutes, Mandy keeps asking questions about your relationship. She seemed more interested in learning how the two of you got together than in bragging about her own boyfriend. It’s obvious that she’s jealous. Maybe she’s seeing a side of Bradley that she didn’t know about, even though it’s all a façade. 
Solo’s eyes never leave your body, and even though there’s not an inch of your skin showing, just like when you saw him yesterday, you feel completely naked under his eyes. It makes you feel nauseous. You look at your phone, realizing that maybe it is time for the four of you to move to the restaurant, have something to eat, and go separate ways. If you are lucky enough, you won’t have to see them again. 
“Honey, look at the time! We should stop talking about us and go to the restaurant” you say, looking at your phone again. 
“Yes, please. I don’t want to know about your entire relationship.” Solo grunts, raising his arm to call the waitress. 
You glare at him, raising your eyebrows. “Are you jealous?”  
He moves his hand to your thigh, caressing it and leaning closer to you. “Of someone keeping my leftovers?"  
“The fuck did you just say?” Rooster snaps, grabbing Solo’s wrist and moving his hand away from your body. “You touch my girl again and I will fucking kill you” 
It’s the first time you’ve actually been scared of Rooster. You have no fear of him doing something to you, you know he would never hurt you. But don't expect Solo to return home tonight without getting what he deserves. 
“Didn’t she tell you about us?” he mocks, grabbing his drink. “I thought you told each other everything” 
Getting up from Rooster's lap, you grab your cup and pour the contents over his head. Mandy's loud gasp alerts everyone, and everyone turns to look for the source of the sound. There are some laughs when they realize what has happened. 
O’Malley, the bar owner, an old, amiable Irish man in his sixties, walks over to your booth to see what’s happening. “Rooster, is everything okay?” 
“This bastard is saying things about Thena” he explains, taking the empty glass away from you and leaving it at the table.
“Lad, you better get out of here” 
Solo gets up, pushing his wet hair back, and looks at you. “You’re lucky he's here” 
He leaves, not waiting for Mandy, who is completely shocked by the whole situation. Rooster takes his wallet out, ready to pay and leave, but O’Malley refuses to accept his money. You leave the bar silently, not a word leaves your lips. Rooster keeps close enough to you to grab you in case you need it, but leaves space between your bodies, so he’s not touching you. You’re glad he's so considerate. 
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Rooster doesn’t know how he has managed to take you home without turning the wheel around and going after that fucking bastard. Who does he think he is, touching a girl like that? It doesn’t matter what you two had at some point in the past. You’re not an object. 
He’s scared of how silent you are. He doesn’t know if you’re scared, in shock, or planning Solo’s murder. If it’s the last one, he’s more than ready to help you. 
He watches you exit the car, your blank face never showing what is going on in your head. Rooster follows you to the house, going upstairs without greeting anyone. Becca looks at him, waiting to know why his friend was walking around the house like a lifeless corpse. But he can’t really explain because he doesn’t know exactly what’s the story between you and that bastard son of a bitch. And he knows he can’t ask you. Not now, at least. Maybe tomorrow, if you’re feeling better. But he knows that it’s better to just wait until you come to him, if you want to tell him. It’s not his place to ask, after all. He’s just your fake boyfriend. 
Wait, he’s not your boyfriend. Then why is he waiting outside the room waiting for you to change out of your clothes and put on your pj’s? He's not a moron; he understands that you need some alone time right now. It’s been a lot in just an hour. He understands your need and is meeting it right now. 
But... Why was he so enraged when Solo touched you? He knows that you could have stood by yourself. He has seen you doing that over the years to pricks in bars who thought that you were just a pretty face. You never needed help, why did he think this time was different? 
Why does he care this much about you? 
Why does he think about you all the time?
Why did he close his eyes when you kissed him this morning?
Oh.
Oh. 
Oh.
272 notes · View notes
lovebillyhargrove · 8 months
Text
Chapter 2 of "Wake me up when July is around"
Proofread by the amazing @dragonflylady77 thank you for your much appreciated help ❤️
Chapter 1
***
Notes: So, to avoid confusion: I've changed the timeline of canon events
Steve gets together with Nancy in spring 1984. In June Barb goes missing. Summer wasn't as fun as he had wanted it to be, obviously.
No fight with Jonathan, not yet. Jonathan hasn't developed the film yet. School was closed, summer was busy. They just got Will back, so he's waiting for September to develop the film when he gets access to the photography lab.
After that, certain events will start to unfold.
*** Billy's pov
As much as he hates being here, Billy's first day at Hawkins high is okay, all things considered. He is so beyond giving a shit, he just has to get through this year, it's not like he's desperate to make friends.
However, Billy won't mind a little fun, no harm in that. Especially when new acquaintances come looking for him. Also, getting through the year means taking each fucking day at a time, and even though he doesn't want to be talking to any of these people, he'll probably have to, eventually.
Motherfucking Hawkins. It's giving him a dull neverending headache.
During his first lunch when, as a new kid, he is of course sitting alone and feeling very comfortable about it, a couple of girls get close to his table. The one with light brown frizzy hair is clutching her tray nervously but is brave enough to start a whole conversation, although Billy can see the blush hiding under the layers of makeup. Come on, sweetie, I don't bite.
Or do I ?
"Hi."
"Hi." Billy is looking at her like he's looking at the dazzling sun, smiling languidly and squinting his eyes a little, letting his eyelashes do the dance. Add the husk, add the drawl, which he doesn't have to force, it comes naturally. The girl stutters.
"Are .. are you n-new here?"
"Yeah. Just moved from California." He should probably go easier on her, so he stops with the lashes.
"Oh, California? Wow. Uhm .. I'm Vicky. This is Tina."
"I'm Billy."
"Hi, Billy. Nice to meet you." Tina's joining in.
"The pleasure is all mine."
Billy can feel that practically all the girls' eyes in the lunch hall are on them.
"We wanted to ask you if you're free next Saturday cause I'm throwing a party. You know, the beginning of senior year. Uhm .. you are a senior, right?"
"Why, do I look like a freshman to you?"
Both girls are giggling. Billy knows how to party, so he's gonna say
"Yeah, I'm free next Saturday."
"Okay, great!" Vicky would be clapping her hands now if not for the tray. "I'll catch you later for the details?"
"Sure. Thanks for the invite, gorgeous."
Gorgeous is an exaggeration, but Billy always aims to please the ladies.
"See you around, Billy."
Tina is whispering something in Vicky's ear, and they again giggle sweetly, walking away.
Billy notices later that the dark-haired one, Tina, apparently is taken, cause a tall athletic-looking guy is hugging her and kissing her on the lips. He throws Billy a glance like a warning to stay away from his girl.
Noted. Billy's aware of the no trespassing signs.
Trespassing is super fun and risky, but it has to be really worth it.
Billy sips cola from a can and looks around the place absentmindedly. A usual scene, nothing extraordinary. There are guys from the basketball team, nerds, geeks, loners, all types of kids.
He misses being at his school in San Diego like crazy, sitting together with his buddies, listening to their stories about the summer, making plans for the year.
Fuck you, dad. I didn't want to move. I liked the way things were, but you just had to do it, didn’t you? Had to fuck up my last school year, the last year I'm under your roof and control.
Billy's eyes land on that jock who he's seen in the parking lot, again surrounded by the same company, a frail girl with brown hair, his girlfriend obviously, although ... something seems to be wrong there. Billy might be a dumb teenager but he's pretty good at reading people and the situation. He'd give them a couple of months, three tops. The other couple? The guy with freckles and his bitchy half, the one who's been flashing interested looks at Billy across the hall now and earlier in the parking lot? These two are solid, you can tell right away, despite his girlfriend's alluring glances.
If he puts a little effort into it, he'll be fine here. Even if he doesn't, he'll still be fine.
***
Or not. Jesus fucking christ. These small-town morons can't play basketball, like at all. He gets to know Tommy and Andy and Roy and other guys from the team during their first practice. Coach Nelson shows a spark of interest in Billy when he hears California. He doesn't seem super excited to be back to work at the beginning of the new school year, but who would, with this bunch of losers.
That stuck-up polo shirt guy is apparently captain of the team. Steve Harrington.
Give me a fucking break. More like a pretty bitch, busy styling his hair ninety percent of his time. Captain, my ass.
After the introduction and a long warm-up coach splits them up into two teams. Skins and shirts, let's go. Billy takes his shirt off and feels proud of his sculpted tanned body. Fucking superior. Everyone here definitely needs some sunshine and work outs. How uninteresting. No wonder the honeys are already throwing themselves at Billy, with such a gloomy landscape to look at. They play for like ten minutes and Billy is trying his best not to destroy the other team completely. Like, he's trying his hardest to let other guys show what they've got but
They haven't got much.
Faaantastic. Guess he'll glow here as well, like the bright ray of motherfucking sunshine that he is.
He can see that while the others are mostly looking at him in awe, as if he was some NBA super star, the captain? Steve .. what? Hair-rington? Ooohh, the captain is pissed, even though he's doing his best not to show it. That bratty curve of his lips says everything without words. Billy can feel the vicious energy here — the dislike, the jealousy? Something's definitely off, and Billy thinks there will come a time when the rich boy's gonna have to meet his fists.
Well, you better learn how to play, sucker, and hold that attitude back, or you'll get your ass handed to you for the whole fucking year.
The coach is whistling.
"You see, boys? That's how they play in California! Hargrove, you said, right? Billy Hargrove?"
Billy is nodding while going off to the showers. The skins have won, of fucking course. He has won.
With the amount of time Billy has spent on the streets playing basketball? He'll wipe the floor with these snotty idiots. Every damn game.
The idiots don't seem to mind that much. Only one is boring a hole in his back during the shower. What the fuck is his problem. If he's got a huge dick, which he does, he thinks he's king of the world? Billy's not small himself, so. Just learn to play the game, asshole, and maybe the attitude is not gonna be an issue. All the boys, even Tina's boyfriend, Andy, are like "Go Tigers" and "Maybe now we're actually gonna win some fucking matches", but the captain still hasn't said a word to Hargrove, which is very strange.
Tommy, the freckled dude? He's all over Billy. Asks him if he's gonna be at the party on Saturday. You wanna be best friends with me?
I don't think so.
***
Max is on time for the pick-up after her classes, and thank fuck for that, because Billy is not in the mood to be having siblings squabbles right now. He's speeding again, but just a teeny tiny bit. Still needs to find out the whole police situation here. Bets they have a very stern sheriff patrolling the roads.
"First day okay?" He's muttering through clenched teeth.
What the fuck is wrong with him? Does he want to talk to her? No. Then why the fuck?
"Fine."
"Anyone gave you shit?"
"No. Everyone seems friendly."
Alright, Billy's just checking. He couldn't care less about what's happening in the red-haired dweeb's life.
She's not his sister.
***
When Neil gets home, they all gather for family dinner. Neil likes it that way. Billy hates it with all his heart.
"How was your first school day, son?"
"It was good, dad."
Oops.
"Sir."
"I expect you to be on your best behavior here, do you hear me?"
When the fuck am I not on my best behavior.
"Of course, sir. I understand."
That's it, that's the conversation. Susan then asks Max about her day and Billy zones out. He hopes they aren't gonna sit at the table together every fucking day. Back in San Diego such dinners happened, but thankfully not every evening. Neil had different shifts, and Billy always tried to sneak away to shoot some hoops or go to the beach. It's been a week of such numbing dinners already, and Billy truly hopes he'll find an out.
He helps Susan with the dishes, and goes to his room. They already have some homework, not right for tomorrow but he can do it now since there's nothing else to do in this fucking town anyways. He's gonna ace all of his subjects if it goes on like that.
When Billy gets under the blanket and closes his eyes, he hears the ocean waves whispering their magic on the beach sand. It lulls him to sleep, and Billy dreams of the hot asphalt and the sun burning down on him. He's driving around in swim shorts and a tank top, cigarette between the lips, music blasting, flip flops on his feet and sand in his car.
Free.
***
In the next couple of days, Billy is already sitting with the guys from the basketball team during lunch, surrounded by Vicky, Laura, Katie, Tina, all the prime ladies of Hawkins High.
He can do absolute fine without all the attention, but if it's coming to him that easy, why not take advantage of it?
Billy wants to call his friend Nick so bad, but interstate calls are fucking expensive, and Neil is definitely gonna be mad when he sees the phone bill.
Billy has some cash saved from his San Diego jobs, but that's like ... for emergencies, until he finds a job here. Dad gives him an allowance, mostly because he drives Max around, well, and lunch at school, but that's it. Susan sometimes slips him a couple of bucks extra for gas, Billy spends it on cigarettes and beer. He thinks it's her way of saying sorry. For not seeing the problem. Whatever.
Billy needs a job. Needs to ask around. He'll get to it, soon.
*** Steve's pov
Steve is actually feeling pretty good at the start of the year. He's got a girl, his friends, this is his last year at Hawkins High which he is King of. He's a senior now, so he's got serious stuff on his mind like graduation and applying to colleges which, he fears, is not gonna go that smooth, but anyways, he's feeling good. Okay, the accident with Barb was terrible and it weighs him down, and Nancy sulks sometimes too much or gets in a mood, but hey, where was his fault in that? Exactly. It's not like he killed the girl. No-one knows what happened. It's creepy as fuck and Steve has never swum in his pool alone since that time, but nobody knows exactly what really went down in his backyard that night. Maybe she'd wandered off and got kidnapped by a maniac in the woods. The police have no clue. Steve doesn't either.
Steve can see that his friends still don't like his girlfriend, and she doesn't like them, but it's fine for now, they tolerate each other. He doesn't know how long it'll last though.
Anyways, he needs to focus on what's important this year. His parents have been nagging him with endless questions about his future - that is, when they are around. Steve's best shot is at a sports scholarship, he's not only King here, he's also captain of the Hawkins Tigers. They aren't a very prominent team, that's true, but .. the title is still his.
There's one little thing that's been on his mind for a few days already, and it's a bit of an annoyance. Like a splinter you catch by accident and then it poisons your entire existence until you take it out. That new guy, Hargrove or something. Steve doesn't like him. He plays basketball too well, he's smart and has all the girls spun around his finger, he looks too good. Other guys seem to like him. Steve doesn't get it why they do. He's a show-off, a fucking nobody. An exotic thing, who soon will stop being so interesting. Until then, Steve will have to put up with his bullshit, but the problem is, it’s been a week of school and he's already had enough. Hawkins High doesn't need a guy like Hargrove. It's got its current King, and Steve wants to be crowned at prom. He's studied in this school all twelve fucking years, so that's his god given right. There's a potential danger in Hargrove, like he just might ruin Steve's game, and that's not what he needs this year.
He doesn't like the dude. The mullet is atrocious. There's something in his whole look and his entire being that just puts Steve off. It's annoying, like an irritating itch.
***
The party at Vicky's place is loud and buzzing with all the summer energy that's still left in everyone's veins, multiplied by the last year of school drive. The doors of the house never close, it's a warm evening, and people are going in for a shot of excitement and deafening music, and out for a breath of fresh air. There's no keg, cause Vicky's cousin promised to get her one, but something went wrong, and he didn't deliver. The hostess is devastated, however, the hiccup turns out to be less of a problem than Vicky imagines it to be and is soon forgotten. People get drunk anyways. Punch saves the party. The crowd still needs some kind of a show though, so at some point Tommy shouts he's gonna arm wrestle Hargrove, and the entertainment begins. Everyone gathers round the dining room table.
Steve's with Nancy, sipping punch and watching how the new guy easily beats Tommy, Roy, Rick, Andy, Kevin, Johnny, Adam and Ryan. Against his will Steve has to agree that Hargrove looks good. He's wearing dark blue jeans and a black button down. His chest is out in the open, the right side of the shirt is tucked into those tight jeans while the left one is hanging loose. The pendant on his tanned chest is glistening. His mullet is a wild mess, like he didn't even brush it after getting out of bed in the morning.
Steve always styles his hair.
"King Steve!!" Tommy's drunkenly hollering. "King Steve, everyone!" and the crowd joins him.
Nancy is rolling her eyes, slightly, but Steve sees it.
"Promise me you'll take me home after this?"
"Why, you don't want to stay?"
"I'd rather study. We have this big project in Chemistry coming up."
"Are you sure?"
"Steeeeve. You know I don't really like all of," - she's gesturing around - "this."
God, she's always like that. Okay, Steve's happy he's with her, but why can't she just have a little bit of fun?
"Yeah .. Yeah of course, I'll drive you."
Nancy is looking at the red plastic cup of punch he's holding. There's a question, but Steve has been expecting this look all along
"Don't worry, it's just my first one, and I'm not drinking anymore."
Steve puts the cup down.
Tommy is already putting his arm around his shoulders
"Listen, man, the guy is crazy strong..." Tommy's punch scented breath is all in Steve's face. "You gotta show him that Hawkins still got it. You're our last hope. Whip his ass!"
Steve gets dragged to the table where Hargrove is waiting for his next opponent.
Harrington sits down opposite him. He can see that Hargrove's more drunk than he is, it's in the glint of his eyes. Deep blue.
Why is he paying attention to the colour of this asshole's eyes, anyways.
Hargrove's elbow is already on the table, expectant.
He's not saying anything and Steve's silent as well.
He puts his left arm on the field, and the battle begins.
Hargrove's hand is warm, hot even, and dry. Steve's slightly embarrassed cause his hands are just a bit sweaty, and getting sweatier under Hargrove's hard stare. The dude's grip is like iron.
Fuck, it's impossible to win, but Steve's trying, putting all of his body strength into the push. Hargrove's immovable and there's a disgusting smirk on his face
"The King doesn't like losing?"
"Fuck you."
With one swift motion Billy brings Steve's arm down. The crowd is whooping, Tommy's going insane.
"No, loser. Fuck you."
Billy's standing up and yelling.
"Anyone else?"
The guys are laughing, shaking heads and clinging to their alcohol. The party goes on, Vicky comes up to Billy, all flustered and touching his bicep. Harrington can't hear their conversation, but he knows it's something stupid like Wooow. Oh my god, Billy? .. You're sooo strong.
Lift me up with your strong arms and carry me upstairs.
Something like that.
Steve remembers about his promise to Nancy, and searches for her in the crowd.
***
He comes back about half an hour later to see the same scene, only everybody's more drunk. The majority of people are dancing, some have gone upstairs. Steve's gonna miss these stupid teenage parties. He should also throw one this year, for old times' sake.
Hargrove is nowhere to be seen. Steve thinks he's already slipping his dirty paws in Vicky's panties in her room, but then he sees Vicky all sad and disappointed near Tina who's trying to console her friend. Turns out, Hargrove ditched the party early, sending all the girls' hopes down the drain. Harrington is slightly amused. The Californian beach boy needs to get in bed in time for his beauty sleep? Who does he think he is, really, playing hard to get?
*** mixed povs
God knows what has gotten into him, but on Monday, at the beginning of History class Harrington sticks his foot out when Hargrove's passing him on the way to his desk. Just to mess with the Californian macho man. Maybe he's gonna trip and make an ass of himself. For funsies.
The asshole pays attention though, and sees it. Stops.
"Get your foot out of my way, dickhead."
"If it's in your way, I dunno ..." - Steve's shrugging his shoulders. "Just step over it."
Billy is aware that the entitled polo-wearing piece of Indiana cowshit wanted him to trip. What kind of kindergarten game is that? Are you for real? Dumbass.
He grabs Steve by the collar and gets closer to his pretty boy face.
"Mr. Hargrove!! The lesson is in progress."
Shit.
"Oh? I'm sorry, Mrs. Jenkins."
Mrs. Jenkins is as old as the first Pilgrim who stepped on the blessed new land.
"Just some trash on the floor. Must teach the kids to pick up after themselves."
He lets go of the collar and pats Steve's shoulder. Kicks Harrington's foot out of the way so hard it hurts.
Tommy is grinning like an idiot. The whole class is watching.
Billy takes a seat.
"I apologize for the interruption, ma'm. You have my undivided attention."
Shows Steve the middle finger the moment the teacher turns away to the blackboard.
Mother.
Fucker.
Harrington is fuming. It's like he doesn't have enough problems already.
***
Chapter 3
23 notes · View notes
sorikkung · 2 years
Text
what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 3: conversations, conversations, camboys?
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word count: 9.8k
pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)
genre: fluff, smut and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will
au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny
warnings: adults talking abt their feelings, mutual masturbation, camming, bondage, remote controlled toys, edging, ruined orgasms, boys crying, cum swallowing but its realistic
a/n: the jump between me taking half a year to update to months to two within the same months??? progress is real guys. anyway we're finally delving into another pov this chapter how exciting!! a lot goin on, a lot of set up here i hope you guys are as excited as i am for what it leads to 🤭
please reblog and leave feedback if you enjoyed, it’s what keeps us writers going :’) (for every comment i get i open up a wip and write a few sentences. thats not bribery but literally just how motivating it is.)
tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)
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>you: i got some mad fucking tea to spill are you ready
>mingi’s bitch: omg bet come over
>you: aight @energeric where r u
>you: ???
Figuring you’d just meet him at the couple’s apartment, you slip some shoes on and grab your keys from the hooks in your doorway to leave, only to find the very man you were pinging grabbing his to do the same.
“Oh, did you see the texts then?” you ask, figuring he’d be going too, but then it strikes you that he probably would’ve started pestering you for details already before you even made it to their apartment.
“No, I’m– I’m heading out. Gonna hit the gym with a buddy.” He pauses mid-way through slipping on his shoes and tying the laces to look up at you. “What happened? Dude, your cheek is bruising, are you becoming the same kinda painslut as Wooyoung is or did you get into a fight?”
“Got clocked in the face by Changbin at the food court with Wooyo today, but it’s what his boyfriend texted me afterward that I’m gonna go discuss with him– you should come, the tea is piping hot.”
He shakes his head, hastily finishing tying off his laces and getting up. “Nah, I don’t wanna leave my friend waiting, he’s already there. If you can’t brief it in a maximum of maybe four and a half sentences, it’s gotta wait.”
You snort. “What the fuck is half a sentence meant to look like?”
“And you just used one. Three and a half, go.”
“Changbin’s boyfriend is hot and Felix is still definitely in love with you.”
For a moment, Eric doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares at you, unblinking, and you expect his eyes to widen or his brows to raise or show any inkling of surprise after a few seconds, but he doesn’t. For once you can’t read the dark clouds in his eyes, though you know he’s definitely having some sort of emotional reaction to the news, but he simply turns to grab his keys as if you didn’t say a thing.
“Cool.”
“Cool?” It stumps you, how normal he’s acting when you’re positive he’s feeling anything but. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t hide how he feels, so the way he’s been acting in regards to Felix raises a few questions. Granted, you didn’t expect him to go running back to him – or maybe you did, just partially – but you certainly expected more than that. “That’s it? I thought you still liked him.”
He sighs deeply through his mouth and twirls his keys around his finger idly while standing in the doorway. “Why would I? Yes, I still like him. Maybe a part of me always will. But he’s the one who broke up with me because he didn’t have time for me. Now I see where that time went, and frankly, I don’t think I have time for him either. I too would rather focus on the people I care about. I don’t care if he still loves me. If he really, truly did, as much as I loved him? He’d do a better job at showing it.”
“That’s… fair,” you sound out slowly, nodding. It makes perfect sense, and in hindsight if he’d jumped at the opportunity first you might have even warned him for being too hasty for that very reason. “Don’t worry, he’ll see what he’s missing. We’ll wipe the floor with him and all of his friends.”
Eric gives you a nod and a half smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, then bids you goodbye and heads off. How abrupt, you think. You’ll probably come back to that one later.
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There are many benefits to dating Jung Wooyoung, Mingi finds. One of them is that it can never really get boring. Everything about Wooyoung is exciting, and he tries to share that with Mingi as much as possible, whether that be spicing up what they try out in the bedroom or taking him on all sorts of wild adventures for dates, or just always having something going on exciting enough to talk about even on their lazy days.
Today is no exception; he sits on their couch in just his sweatpants, while Wooyoung lies draped across his lap in only his t-shirt. Not his own, but Mingi’s, naturally, and he’s already accepted he won’t get it back until it stops smelling like him. When today’s excitement – you, of course – strolls in and gives them a knowing look, he shakes his head before even greeting you.
“We weren’t fucking this time. Though if you took any longer we might’ve!”
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time you’ve walked in on them in more provocative positions, if that were the case – most times these days, they don’t bother to stop at the interruption, and more often than not you’re quick to join in on the fun anyway. It’s not unheard of, however, for you – or any of the other band members, for that matter – to pass on joining in and merely scroll on their phone or read a book or snack while in the very same room as the deed is being done, but nobody really minds. It’s just a thing that happens, at this point, just as normal as eating or playing video games. You all prefer it that way.
Hell, Mingi is a huge fan of the concept. It didn’t take Wooyoung very long to figure out how much he enjoys showing off, so as soon as his days of being a little shyer and more self-conscious fell behind him in favour of his newfound confidence in his sex appeal and comfort with the band, he became quite the tease when he has an audience. Perhaps that’s why he was all too keen to let Wooyoung drag him down the corridor Changbin went down at the battle of the bands and start making out with him on the spot, knowing – no, even better, hoping – the other man would be watching.
“Without me? How cruel.” You’re quick to join them on the couch, cuddling into Mingi’s side and allowing Wooyoung to sprawl across your lap as well. They both silently appreciate how you fit so easily into their lives as to not even need so much as a greeting when you arrive at their apartment. It’s your home as much as theirs, probably helped by how the whole band lives in the same apartment complex, albeit different floors. At this point, you might as well all be roommates. “Though I suppose I’ll be the crueller one, considering I’m gonna be having a threesome with Changbin and his hot boyfriend and you’re not invited.”
“What?!” Wooyoung jolts up off your laps, staring at you like you just grew a second head. “Why the fuck not? After I sucked the soul out of him that one time? Damn, he has no idea what he’s missing, I’ve only gotten better since.”
“Actually, he kinda does,” you chuckle, taking his place across his and Mingi’s laps so you can cheerily grin up at him and poke your tongue out. “Little birdy told me it was, to this day, the best head he’s ever had. Not that he’d ever admit it.”
“Wait a second, who was the little birdy? Changbin or Minho?” Mingi asks, idly tapping his fingers on your back while the gears turn in his head. Truly, excitement follows Wooyoung wherever he goes — he doesn’t even need to try.
“Minho. We’re Instagram mutuals now, apparently. He had soooo much juicy tea for me. Like how the reason Changbin is gonna deny all your advances is because he’s been in love with you since high school but doesn’t wanna admit it, even to himself.”
Wooyoung freezes, and Mingi freezes at Wooyoung freezing. Mingi doesn’t know the full details of Wooyoung and Changbin’s history beyond being best friends in high school with another friend who went back to Korea — Yeonjun, Mingi thinks his name was — and that the three of them helped each other experiment and realise that they all liked boys. It sounded very casual, and Mingi figured that makes sense; Wooyoung was one of the key players in opening the band up with each other more physically, and, by extension, his relationship with Mingi. Wooyoung is just the kinda guy who likes being physically and sexually affectionate with his friends, and that didn’t bother him. Not when he enjoyed it almost just as much. In many ways, Wooyoung was the reason Mingi could come so far outside his shell. He’d forever be grateful to him for that.
It takes Wooyoung a good, long moment to remember to breathe again before he bursts out laughing, loud and wide and unfiltered in all the ways Mingi just can’t help but fall for. He isn’t sure what is so inherently hilarious about Changbin’s feelings for him, but he doesn’t realise he’s grinning goofily until you give him a very particular smirk that he’s awfully familiar with. The ‘You’re so damn whipped it’s written all over your face’ smirk. But who in their right mind can blame him? At least, that’s what he thinks to himself while his lover takes a moment to recover.
“No way,” he says at last, “Changbin? In love with me after all these years? Oh, that’s rich. You don’t think- you don’t think that’s the real reason they joined the battle of the bands, is it? To see me again?”
“You and your massive ego,” Mingi huffs, nudging him in the shoulder. “I mean, possibly? I feel like it’s more likely that they’re tryna suck JYP’s dick. But that and Felix possibly holding some resentment for Eric and doing it out of spite might be part of it too.”
“Nah, Felix doesn’t resent Eric,” you inform him, “He’s still in love with him. Did Wooyoung not fill you in? That’s why Changbin was all like, ‘just because Felix still likes Eric doesn’t mean you can use him like that!’ It’s kinda the whole reason I got clocked in the face, which was lucky for your boyfriend’s pretty face because if I wasn’t there, it would’ve been him.”
“He didn’t really fill me in, no,” Mingi pouts, shouldering him again, but Wooyoung only scoffs and shoulders him back. “He was too busy telling me all about how hot Changbin was in a fitted t-shirt and how you went flying across a table to really elaborate on the why. Also how hot that Minho guy is and how he seemed down for the double date, so I’m wondering why all of a sudden we’re not invited to the gangbang!”
“Pfft. It’s- Just read the texts.” You unlock your phone and shove it in his hands to save yourself more explaining. Wooyoung snatches it from you before Mingi can grab it, so he simply leans over his shoulder to read without further complaint.
>lino.ooo: i wish he’d understand that being attracted to other people doesn’t mean i love him any less
>lino.ooo: but him accepting that would mean accepting he has feelings for people who aren’t me either 🤭
Mingi reads this and his first instinct is to look at Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung, eyes adorably wide and almost trying to shove his face into the screen with how invested into these texts he is. The puzzle starts to piece itself together in Mingi’s brain, sneaking suspicions he hasn’t accepted enough to address yet, but he can’t help but feel for Minho’s situation.
>lino.ooo: but i’ve been dating him for a couple years now, and i’ve been his friend even longer, i know the signs. i know what he looks like when hes in love with someone, because he’s like that with me, too
That makes him look at Wooyoung once again, analysing every detail on his stupidly perfect face, and that’s when it really clicks. Mingi feels for Minho because it’s too easy for him to imagine himself in similar shoes – possibly because he’s already standing in them. And possibly has been for a long time now.
He thinks back to how their open relationship all started; how you and Sunwoo had been best friends with benefits since your last year of high school before you dropped out and ran away without him, anyway, and Eric since not long after, jokingly justifying your relationship with there being ‘nothing wrong with kissing the homies goodnight.’ It was an inside joke at first, one followed by obnoxious PDA between your trio or Mingi and Wooyoung calling themselves ‘totally platonic homies’ despite having been dating for a while, but somewhere down the line you had all started actually giving each other goodnight kisses.
He thinks about San, who used to blush such a pretty pink at the gesture, and how he couldn’t help himself turning a chaste peck on the lips to a kiss that lingered, hands that wandered – next thing he knows, Wooyoung is running to him saying he fucked up, genuine fear in his eyes, quick to confess how his goodnight kiss with San escalated to making out against a wall and how it all happened so fast and he stopped it as soon as she realised he was enjoying it too much for a goodnight kiss and ran to Mingi first thing to come clean. He had apologised so vehemently that day, like he was really, truly scared he would lose his lover for such a careless mistake; Mingi then wonders how much of that fear lies beyond the simple kiss.
How much of it was the feelings San made him feel that scared him so.
He decides to keep these thoughts to himself for the time being. After all, maybe he’s simply overthinking again, comparing himself to the other rapper now that he’s come and changed up the scene. Wooyoung has a type, it seems. Thick lips, broad shoulders, reckless confidence, and spits fire on the mic. He wonders how long it’ll be before he inevitably falls for Sunwoo, too. He fits the type to a T. Maybe he already has, actually, he isn’t too sure – but he’s far surer that the way he looks at you, San and Changbin, isn’t the way people usually look at their platonic friends. Or their former friends who they haven’t seen in years and desperately want to get in the pants of and show off to.
Mingi remains quiet.
“Well, I think our next plan of attack is rather obvious,” Wooyoung hums, barely concealing his excitement. However, neither you nor Mingi seem to follow, so you wait for him to realise and elaborate. “Like… if he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with me, we gotta make sure he does.”
“What is that even supposed to mean?” Mingi ponders aloud, raising an inquisitive eye at Wooyoung. He stares back at him.
“Exactly what it sounds like? We need to make Changbin realise he’s in love with me whether he likes it or not. Like, he’s in love with me, that’s so exciting? This whole time? I was literally his gay awakening, I gotta remind him how he got to this point in the first place.” Wooyoung states it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but Mingi simply blinks, then cuts you off before you can say anything.
“Why?”
That renders both of you silent, and it’s only then when Wooyoung and you seem to finally notice the seriousness of Mingi’s expression, the atmosphere sobering up so quickly it gives him whiplash.
“B-Because… come on, it’ll be fun! What’re you looking so serious for, I'm not the one in love with him! I think I just get a sick sense of satisfaction from it. Plus, he’s hot, you’ve already agreed with me that much, do you not want to make him squirm a little?”
Mingi only frowns harder. It’s true, they already discussed bringing Changbin and even Minho into the bedroom if the opportunity presented itself, but this wasn’t quite the opportunity he was thinking about. If Wooyoung sleeps with someone who he knows likes him like that, wouldn’t that be more than just a casual fling? Why would he want to engage when he knows feelings are involved already? Mingi thinks he knows the answer.
It begs the question, considering when it was brought up they never defined what ‘messing with’ other people implied. Mingi figured they were on the same page in it meaning just having sex or touching or kissing, but now he wonders if he missed something. “How far does our ethical non-monogamy go?”
“What are you–“
“Wooyoung, you’re really excited to hear that your old best friend likes you like that… what’s so exciting about it? You have me already.”
“What? I’m not excited, I just–” Wooyoung flounders at the accusation, bumping you out of the way so he can crawl half on top of Mingi, so he sees just how serious he is. Like the physical closeness would bridge the gap slowly forming. “Jagiya, that’s not what this is at all. I haven’t felt like that about Changbin since I was like, seventeen–“
“So you admit you did once have feelings for him, then?”
“Woah, woah! What is with that accusatory tone? Mingi, I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours, only yours.” He grabs both of his boyfriend’s hands in his, clasping them tightly while he looks in his eyes, wavering. It’s almost uncomfortable to watch. “There’s no competition. Whatever feelings I had for him back then are long gone now, it’s really just a sex thing, like we have with the band, that’s all it is! You know you’re the only one for me, you know I wasn’t even interested in settling down before you, that’s how much you mean to me. I’m yours, first and foremost, no one else’s. However else I get my dick wet doesn’t matter, it– it doesn’t change that. What we have is so much more than that.”
It’s definitely uncomfortable for you to watch now, evident in the way you try to awkwardly shuffle away from them. If Wooyoung notices anything off he doesn’t mention it, gazing almost unblinkingly into Mingi’s eyes in hopes it’ll make him feel his sincerity, but the only sincerity Mingi feels in that moment is Wooyoung’s sincerity to himself. Like he’s trying to convince himself of this just as much as him.
He can’t just tell him that, though. Who is he to tell his boyfriend which of his feelings are real or not? Who is he to say he’s deluding himself? That would be borderline gaslighting if he did, but he can’t ignore the signs that are becoming increasingly obvious the longer he stews on them. He speaks in Korean next in hopes that you won’t catch the meaning of his words.
“Your ears go red when you lie, Wooyoung.”
His mouth opens to say something, then shuts, then again, soundlessly appearing almost like a gaping fish. You don’t stay to hear more, quickly and wordlessly grabbing your phone back from where it had fallen to the couch in Wooyoung’s surprise and trying to make as little noise as possible on your way out to not disturb them. Mingi doesn’t blame you; all of a sudden the air in the room feels awfully stuffy and borderline suffocating, but he has to face this head-on, or else Wooyoung will be lightly dancing around the topic until it escalates.
“I’m not lying,” Wooyoung mumbles, his voice small and caught in his throat. “Is that really what you think I’m like?”
“I– Look, Wooyoung, I’m not going to tell you how you do or don’t feel, I just… Minho’s texts felt kind of relatable when he was talking about how he noticed how his boyfriend looks at other men because he knows what his in love look, looks like. I saw the way you look at Changbin and it just… reminded me of that. But I also see the way you look at them, too,” he gestures towards the door where you just made your escape, “and San. Honestly, I can argue for all of the band, but those two in particular, you look at them the exact same way you look at me. And I just… don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that. How I’m supposed to feel about that.”
Wooyoung shakes his head slowly, almost in disbelief. “There’s nothing to feel about. I meant what I said–“
It’s the denial that gets him. Maybe it wouldn’t sting so much if he just came clean and confessed it, admitted to feeling things for other people, and maybe they could talk about it and what it meant for their relationship, but if he can’t realise it himself they won’t get anywhere. And the more he tries to deny it, the more he digs himself into a hole that only highlights Mingi’s very suspicions.
“No you didn’t. Is that really all the band is to you? Just another way to get your dick wet?”
He pauses, settling back down on his legs as the weight of his words finally sink in. “No, I… of course they’re more than that, they’re... I probably shouldn’t’ve said that in front of him, I’ll– I’ll have to apologise to him later.”
Mingi nods. “Yeah, you should. Like, aren’t we constantly going on about how platonic love is just as meaningful as romantic love? Isn’t that why we’re as close with the band as we are? Saying that what we have is so much more than that just because its romantic is so diminishing. That’s how I know you don’t mean it – you don’t believe that, do you? That’s against everything we both believe in.”
“Well, yes, but–“ he gnaws on the inside of his cheek, trying to formulate a response. “I guess I panicked? I just don’t want you thinking after all we’ve been through together that I’m gonna be into Changbin now all of a sudden just because he likes me. As far as romantic love goes, I just want you. I don’t want anything to change that, to change what we have.”
“We don’t have to change anything,” Mingi reminds him calmly, hands smoothing over the smaller man’s thighs in a soothing motion. “I just want you to be honest with me, and honest with yourself. I won’t be mad at you if you like other people because I know you love me, I just… want you to be able to tell me. To trust me.”
Wooyoung nods silently, slowly at first, then frantically. “I-I will. I’m sorry, Mingi.”
“What are you apologising for?”
“I–“ He falls flat. “I don’t know.”
“Then don’t apologise,” Mingi reassures him with the faintest of smiles, cupping his face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. “Well, maybe do apologise, just not to me. I apologise for putting you on the spot like that.”
Wooyoung chases his lips after the first kiss, hands slipping around the back of his neck and pulling him in, kissing him deeply and sending tingles down Mingi’s spine. They’re both just so handsy, grabbing at whatever they can reach, Wooyoung drawing closer into Mingi’s lap to close the distance between them, so they can hold each other while they kiss like this. Mingi is honestly content to simply kiss him like that for hours on end, but Wooyoung seems to have other plans as their kisses grow hotter and their hands wander further, teeth digging into lips and nails digging into skin.
When he breaks apart, it’s to slip down Mingi’s lap and onto the floor on his knees, spreading Mingi’s legs apart and reaching for the band of his sweatpants. On his knees for him in nothing but his shirt, Mingi knows he’ll never not be affected by such a sight – if it isn’t old by now it probably never will be, and Mingi finds comfort in that. He likes knowing his boyfriend has him wrapped around his pinkie finger, and that he’ll never fail to drive him wild. It’s safe, secure, how his heart beats for him.
“Let me show you exactly how much you mean to me,” Wooyoung murmurs, low and sultry, but it has the opposite of the intended effect. Mingi tenses up, grabbing both of Wooyoung’s wrists on instinct, then pushes them away from him. The flash of distress on Wooyoung’s face doesn’t slide past him, but he doesn’t have it in him to feel too guilty about it.
“Wooyoung,” he breathes out, not letting go of his wrists. “How is this any different? How is having sex with me proving how much I mean to you when you just said all your relationships with other men are just about sex? What kind of message are you giving me with this?”
How Mingi’s heart beats for Wooyoung is safe. He knows that no matter what happens, that will never change – it will always beat for him. That much he is sure of.
Whether Wooyoung is the same, however, he is not.
His mistake seems to crash down on him all at once, and he slips his hands free and back to his sides as he scrambles to his feet in panic. “No, no, I didn’t mean–“
“Just… stop,” Mingi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s tired. He doesn’t want to wrestle with – whatever this is that they’re wrestling with – any longer. “I don’t wanna go in circles again, can we just… cuddle?”
Wooyoung is eager to oblige, grabbing a throw blanket off the couch and curling up to Mingi’s side with a quickness he only ever really sees from him on-stage, but he's visibly relieved at the change of topic though guilt still lingers on his features. Mingi turns on the tv; white noise at this point, to leave him alone with his thoughts. Well, not too alone, with Wooyoung in his arms, but he likes it that way. Maybe a small part of him fears that if he lets go, he’ll lose him – but mostly, he just enjoys having him close, even when they’re not the happiest with each other. They’ll get through this.
He leans his head atop the crown of his lover’s, not before pressing a quick kiss to the top. Wooyoung buries his face in his shoulder, returning the kiss to his bare skin, and in that moment, that is all Mingi needs.
That’s enough excitement for one day.
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It’s only when you finally get back to your apartment and shut the door behind you do you finally feel like you can breathe again, far away from the stuffiness of the couple’s apartment and the thick tension between them as they fought right in front of you. Not the first time they had done so, and you are usually comfortable enough in their home to just scroll on your phone on their couch until they’re done, but you’re not sure you’ve witnessed a fight quite so personal between them before. Besides, it’s not like you had anything planned for staying longer, so it felt easier to get out of there as soon as you can rather than wait it out as a spectator and hope they’d feel up to sex or video games or going for a cheeky fast-food run in the aftermath.
Sunwoo is sprawled across the couch when you arrive, and he raises his eyebrow at you over his shoulder when he notices the loud exhale at finally arriving home.
“What, did your gossip sesh with Woogi not go so well?” he jokes, but when you plop yourself across his lap, staring up at the ceiling with a humourless chuckle back, he figures he’s probably exactly right.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Wanna talk about it?” He turns off his phone and slips it back into his hoodie pocket to give you his full attention, so you sigh.
“So the goss is that Felix is in love with Eric still, which I already told him and he doesn’t wanna do anything about it, which is fine, and then the other part was that Changbin has been pining over Wooyoung since high school. Which is like, a long ass time to be pining over someone you’ve barely seen since, but it’s enough that his boyfriend noticed – oh yeah, I’m leaving out details again. So Changbin ran into me and Wooyoung at the food court and punched me in the face–“
“–he what?! –“
“–yeah full-on sent me falling over a table, it was hot– yeah and then in a last ditch attempt for him to not like, literally knock my lights out in the middle of the plaza, I complimented his muscles and fed his ego enough for him to be too busy preening to deck me, and then his boyfriend came in. Lee Minho, or Lino apparently is his stage name, and he grabbed my ass, put a metaphorical leash on his boyfriend and basically said we had a point and then plugged Stray Kids’ Instagram, to which obviously I had to stalk, and then I followed his account because he has three really cute cats and we started dm-ing and– here I’ll just show you the messages.”
Sunwoo is straight-up laughing by the time you finish your tale, grabbing your phone from you as you pull up the direct messages with the eccentric man. “You know, just because you’re a rapper doesn’t mean you have to exercise that breath control when telling a story, take it from me.”
“This is how I normally talk!” That draws an exasperated giggle from you, and that’s enough to ease some of the tension that was weighing on your shoulders from the argument. “Basically, you’ll see what I’m talking about when you scroll down to it, but basically I told all this to Wooyoung and he was like, ‘If Changbin has feelings for me and doesn’t even notice I gotta make him notice,’ which for obvious reasons made Mingi a little uncomfortable, because why would he care about his crush on him if he’s already happily taken anyway? So he asked how far their ethical non-monogamy is meant to go and Wooyoung got all defensive and basically said that Mingi is his everything and everyone else is just how he gets his dick wet but doesn’t compare to him, and honestly… that one kinda stung a little.”
Sunwoo visibly winces at that, looking away from the messages to make sure you are okay. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” You huff, sinking further into the couch and mentally hoping it absorbs you completely. “I dunno it was just so… tense for that moment there. Felt like there was a lot to unpack. Mingi seemed to think so, too, because then he just switched to speaking in Korean and I took that as my cue to leave.”
“Do you remember what he said?” Sunwoo offers helpfully; you aren’t fluent in Korean by any means, but being friends with a whole band of Korean speakers and roommates with two of them forces you to pick some basics up over the years. Especially with Sunwoo practically acting as Eric’s personal tutor, as the latter didn’t learn to speak it growing up but was familiar enough with it for it to be easier for him to learn. Similarly, Kevin never learned it at home either, but was a lot better at self-studying than you were and had also been learning for a lot longer – you had only decided to really commit to it after moving in with the boys and hearing how much they would practice at home.
“I recognised the main words, I think. ‘You’, ‘red’, ‘ears’, and ‘lie’. Lying maybe? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where that was going, though.”
Sunwoo nods, reaching down to play with your hair in a motion you think is supposed to be comforting. It does help. “That’s pretty awkward. How do you feel about it? What are you thinking?”
It’s in times like these when Sunwoo’s maturity shines through; while usually he’s one of the first to goof off and tease or get fired up and in his feelings, in contrast, he can often be very objective with other people’s issues.
“I feel… weird. Like I saw something I probably wasn’t meant to see,” you start with a sigh. It’s hard to place exactly what you’re feeling at first. “It was kind of… disheartening? The way Wooyoung talked about him and Mingi. I don’t know how to explain it, it was just so… uncomfortable. How he kept saying Mingi is basically like, above the rest of us, when I thought we all agreed that romantic relationships shouldn’t be the be-all-or-end-all of human connection because other bonds can be just as strong, but he kept emphasizing how what they have is so special and how he’s Mingi’s and no one else’s, and it’s like… what does that make us? I know he’s not our boyfriend, but I like to think we’re a lot more to him than just friends who get his dick wet.”
Sunwoo mulls it over for a moment, then stills the movements of his hands to give you a steadfast look.
“Do you want us to be more than friends?”
The question kicks your heartbeat into overdrive, suddenly picking up like you’re being chased by an unseen beast that could snuff you out at a moment’s notice. You try not to let that alarm show, but you have the gut feeling that Sunwoo picks up on it, at least on your hesitance to respond, so you open your mouth to say something before it looks like your silence has more meaning to it.
“No– yes? I mean, aren’t we already more than friends, in a way? Friends don’t usually do what we do. Is there not an in between friendship and dating? Since when were we the types to be stuck in singular boxes and labels, huh?”
Sunwoo doesn’t seem to buy it, shifting beneath your weight so you sit up to let him adjust his position and get more comfortable. What you don’t expect, is for him to instead swiftly cage you between him and the couch, towering over you with his eyes boring into yours. He doesn’t touch you, his hands placed firmly on either side of your head, but the proximity makes it feel like his whole weight is pushing down on you.
He says your name unwaveringly. “If friendship is just as strong and important as romance, why do you not want to consider us just as friends?”
Your voice gets caught in your throat. You want to ask why he has to be so, so close to ask you such a question, but the time it takes to gather your wits to reply is probably exactly the reason. You can’t lie to him like this, you can’t bluff or flounder or get anything past him. When he looks into your eyes like this, he sees everything beneath him, and in that moment, you feel more naked before him than you ever have been even without the presence of clothes.
“I… because it feels weird to call you guys my friends. Cause I have other friends, I’ve had close friends with benefits, too, but you guys are just… different. It feels different. You guys aren’t on the same level as people I call my friends,” you explain, hoping that it makes even a lick of sense, but you fear now that you’ve said it out loud it only serves to prove Sunwoo’s point.
Do you want to date them? You’ve been bouncing the idea around in your mind for a few years now, and you still don’t have a clear answer. When you first met San and Kevin, the answer was yes. For Wooyoung and Mingi, it was an ‘if only,’ but they were fresh in their relationship at the time, so you figured they were off-limits. Eric and Sunwoo you had figured any attraction to them was just physical and a result of you messing around with them while also developing a meaningful friendship beyond being an experiment or a booty call, but that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to date them.
But as the band formed and you all grew closer, they quickly became the most important people in your lives by a long shot, people you’re closer with than you ever have been with anyone else, and that’s uncharted waters. Throwing sexual attraction into the mix only further muddies them, because is it that you’re attracted to them as a person in a romantic sense, or you’re attracted to them and the fact that you’re close to them as people and care for them deeply seem inherently romantic through that lens? Is it possible to be attracted to someone physically and love them platonically? Your logic tells you yes, of course, queerplatonic relationships of all kinds exist, but you’ve gotten to the point where you don’t know the difference anymore. Not when this type of relationship is all you’ve ever known, and you’ve enjoyed them too much to bother trying to pursue anything romantic with anyone. After all, explaining to any possible romantic interest that you don’t plan on stopping sleeping with your entire band and whoever else strikes your fancy, and that you and your band are so incredibly close and live together and spend basically all your spare time together, doesn’t usually score you any second dates.
It's not like that has bothered you much, though, perfectly content with what you have with them – they know you far better than any romantic interests ever have, so why would you bother when you already have almost everything you could ask for in a connection? But that only sounds like you’re already dating them, or at least treating it like you are but dodging the big scary ‘label’ question to not frighten them off and burst your bubble.
“You’re thinking really hard right now,” Sunwoo comments, smirking as he analyses your face. Why is he smirking? What does he think he just won? You can’t read his at all. What you do know is if he doesn’t just close the distance and kiss you already you might just explode, but he’s determined on running his mouth and for once in your life you feel helpless to stop him. He’d see right through your attempts at distraction. “Are you finally putting two and two together? Because what I see, is that Wooyoung talking about Mingi as the only one for him made you uncomfortable because you don’t want Mingi to be the only one for him. You want him to be ours, isn’t that right? You want him to be yours, too.”
You feel like the slightest slip of the tongue will end in instant regret, your last coherent thought fizzling out. “Are you trying to tease me right now, Sunwoo? I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He moves one hand to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger, making sure you can’t look away from his steadfast gaze. “Dead serious. Do you want to date us? Be romantic with us, tell us those three words you’ve been too scared to say for too long, take us on dates that are explicitly dates, call us yours? Is that what you want?”
How are you even meant to answer such a question? Do you? Don’t you? What would happen if you said yes? Or no? Your head is swimming – if the energy at Wooyoung and Mingi’s apartment felt suffocating, the tension now felt like walking a tightrope with a blindfold on. One wrong step, one wrong breath and you plummet to your untimely demise, but the tightrope you tread on is merely a thread and may snap at any moment regardless.
He says your name again, calling your attention back to him, awaiting an answer.
You don’t have one for him.
The door swings open so violently it bangs against the wall, San bursting in with a shout and his laptop in hand, screen facing toward you, and the most positively mind-blown expression on his face.
“You guys won’t fucking believe what I just found–! Oh. Uh.” His voice is booming until it’s not, dropping to the lowest of volumes once he sees you and Sunwoo’s position on the couch and the seriousness on your faces. Both you and Sunwoo break that contact to look at him in surprise, his equally surprised face staring right back at you. It’s laughable, even, how San has walked in on far less innocent interactions between you guys before, but it seems that even at a moments notice he can feel the thickness of the tension in the room. “Should I uh. Should I come back later? Am I interrupting something?”
You want to say yes, but it’s not like you had an answer for Sunwoo anyway. You suspect Sunwoo will tell him to leave so he can continue drilling you in private, but instead his attention catches on to whatever’s on San’s laptop. It’s porn, which isn’t very surprising, but Sunwoo cuts off whatever he was about to reply and narrows his eyes.
“Is that… Hyunjin?”
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San is thrilled to launch into his story about how he was looking into camming as a potential source of income as he may or may not be about to get fired from the Snack Falcon he worked at after one too many shifts of just clocking on and leaving whenever he felt like it because hardly anyone shows up to that store anyway – “Ham Panther is literally right across the street,” he argued, “And they just sell the same shit, and more shit, for cheaper! Anyone who wants good food would have a better time at like, any other store that actually exists.” – but the final straw may or may not have been him and Eric smashing their old lights in the carpark at the back of the store when he was supposed to be closing.
“Jesus Christ, San,” you wheeze, “I’m honestly surprised it took them this long. Wait, but, wasn’t the reason they hadn’t fired you yet was because you were like, the only other employee they had?”
Sunwoo had given you a long, hard look before removing himself from you and letting San come in and go on about his story, which spoke all the words it needed to say. ‘We’ll come back to this later.’ You’re not sure you want to, but you’re happy indulge in San’s shenanigans for the time being and catch your breath again, even if it’s a struggle to shake off the heaviness of everything all at once so suddenly.
“Yeah, well, I was, but then this new guy joined, I think his name is Jeongin or something? I dunno, but it probably doesn’t matter since if he can take my shifts I’m probably done for. I’m at least gonna see a cut in my shifts, but also, I think the night shift guy is leaving, so there might be hope for me yet.”
“But not for your sleep schedule,” you joke, and San nods solemnly.
“Yup, no hope for that one. But anyway! Either way I was like, this probably won’t bode over well, and I’m hot as fuck so I might as well give a shot at being a camboy on the side? Like, seems easier than being a stripper, since I don’t have to learn how to dance or work a pole, and we have enough sex that I probably wouldn’t need to change much of my routine as much as just like, chucking on a camera every now and then. I could make sure your faces aren’t included in the shot, or I could just go solo. Helps to have an apartment to myself.”
“Keep flexing that on us, why don’t you?” Sunwoo huffs, rolling his eyes. He’s quieter than usual, but not enough for it to look like anything more than just being tired, but he’s no less sassy. “I’m less shocked you still have a job and more shocked that you can still pay for an apartment on your own.”
“Well, it helps that I don’t spend much on food,” San reasons, “Considering Wooyoung cooks enough to feed a small country and gets offended when we don’t eat it, and the rest of you guys don’t mind me raiding the fridge every other night or so.”
You snort. “Who said we don’t mind? You know the rule, if there’s only one left it’s not yours – take the last slice of pizza again and I will fucking end you, Choi San.”
He guiltily covers his hand with his mouth. “Oops! Enough of that though, so long story short I heard this site was pretty safe and pays well so I take a look to see what my competition would be like, and lo and behold… the one and only Stray Kids’ Hwang Hyunjin’s cock, balls and ass, first thing on my laptop screen. Viola!”
Placing himself on the couch next to you two with his laptop on his knees for you to see, he clicks play. You only recognise the man after your thorough Instagram stalking from earlier, but it’s definitely him – he doesn’t cover his face at all, the side of it pressed to the mattress with his ass up in the air, stuffed with a pink toy, hands tied behind his back and hard, leaking cock on full display for the camera, trapped in a cock ring that keeps vibrating around him. You wonder how he’s planning to untie himself after he finishes – or how he tied his own wrists behind his back anyway, and if he did that on camera or before turning it on, because there doesn’t seem to be anyone else with him. He must’ve been live for a while now because he looks on the brink of tears as the buzzing stops, brokenly whining and writhing on the bed.
“Please,” he whimpers, shamelessly shoving his hips down on the mattress where he’s stained it with his pre-cum already in an attempt to get any kind of stimulation while bound, “Please let me come. I’ve been so good for you guys, please, I was so, so close…!”
You can’t deny that the visual – hell, the audio too – is hot. Anyone with eyes, ears and a sexual attraction to men would agree on that much. While you thought you’d probably end up zoning out and overthinking your interactions with your bandmates the whole time, you find yourself instead transfixed with the performer on the screen and his alternative form of performance. Does his band know about this, you wonder? If not, it could be quite the juicy secret to leverage later. Regardless, heat simmers beneath your skin with every one of Hyunjin’s whiny pleas.
The chat is moving so fast you almost can’t keep up with it. But you do notice the sudden influx of donations, and suddenly the buzzing resumes again and Hyunjin’s whole body jolts as he squirms to get back on his knees so the camera can see his dick again. He doesn’t seem like he’s acting or playing much up, eyes glazed over and breathing heavy in between his honey-sweet moans. He’s so unfathomably pretty that even fucked out like this, he looks picturesque.
“Don’t come…? Guys please, please just let me come, haah, I’ll- I’ll put on such a pretty show for you I p-promise!”
San shamelessly adjusts the raging hard-on in his pants as you watch, hand hovering over the tracking pad. “So he’s managed to hook up both a cock ring and a vibrator to the site’s donations, but there’s options both to make it vibrate but also to make it stop, which I’ve never really seen before. It’s like a bidding war between the ones who want to edge him and the ones who want to make him come, which might be hell for him but holy hell is he raking in mad cash that way.”
“That’s actually so smart,” you hum thoughtfully, “Leveraging control freaks’ need for control to make even more money. Guess the orgasm denial enthusiasts are winning tonight, huh?”
“Do you think this is how they afforded all that fancy shit for their stage? Look, that guy just donated a hundred bucks to edge him again. If I can make this much money off camming, I can quit Snack Falcon for good and get like a day’s worth of pay in an hour or two!”
Sunwoo isn’t even paying attention to what he’s saying, fixated on the view on the screen and the sounds of Hyunjin’s whimpering filtering from the speakers. He slips a hand down the waistband of his pants and boxers to stroke himself languidly, wetting his lips. “He’s fucking hot.”
Jerking off to porn together isn’t exactly the most common activity between the renegades, but it’s not unheard of, either, if one of you happen to stumble across something hot enough to be worth sharing. It’s just that most of the time, with so many options readily available, you don’t really need to look for porn when the group chat’s attachments are full of it, and you could create an equally hot or even hotter scenario yourselves.
It’s still normal enough that you all just fall into it naturally without talking about it, San also tugging his cock free to jerk it a lot hastier than Sunwoo, obviously riled up from the moment he entered the apartment, shamelessly letting his head fall back and a groan filter from his lips at the sight. “He’s so fucking hot it’s unfair.”
Unfair to who? You think San is arguably just as breathtaking, but it doesn’t seem like the right time to voice that thought, especially after everything that just happened, so you keep that part to yourself and simply take in the sight of him, jaw clenched and almost fucking into his fist before turning back to the screen.
“Yeah, no kidding. Perfect face, perfect body, I can’t really say I’m surprised people are paying hundreds just to have their way with him,” you mutter in awe, working your fly undone because that visual is enough to make you throb but the sounds just make it maddening. Is that how desperate he usually sounds, or is that just him on camera? You’re itching to find out, already having decided on your next target for your borderline malicious flirting.
To your surprise, Sunwoo slaps your hands away with his free one before you can slip them down your underwear, but before you can protest or ask why he replaces it with his own, quick to rub at your enlarged clit without any of his usual teasing. You’re not sure if he just feels like it, or if it has anything to do with the conversation you were having before San interrupted, but if that is the case you’re not exactly sure what the message he’s trying to give is supposed to be. You don’t oppose to it though, happy to reach over and grab his dick instead, but he doesn’t let you do that either, clearly insistent on you not doing any of the work and him getting both of you off. You’re almost shocked that San doesn’t complain at being left out, but he’s not even looking at you two, just at Hyunjin’s trembling form on his laptop.
“O-Oh fuck, my love– my loves, I’m close, please, please let me come, d-don’t you think I deserve it? Ha-ah… please…!”
He desperately glances somewhere beyond the camera, and that answers your question from earlier; someone lucky is in the room with him – you wonder who, whether it’s a partner, a bandmate, or some else, but the thought doesn’t occupy you for long as much as the thought of him liking an audience even without a camera – watching as Hyunjin’s mouth falls open in a silent plea; please. He must be truly at his limit if he’s asking someone to interfere with his viewer’s wishes just for the sake of his orgasm, but the beautiful distress on his face tells you that whoever is on the other side of the camera isn’t budging. You like seeing him a mess like this, rather than the pretty and powerful man you saw on stage and talking to Felix at the Prism, and knowing that he’s your competition has you hoping they prolong his suffering just a bit longer; the thought of seeing him break and cry along with the feeling of Sunwoo’s skilled fingers between your legs has you almost dizzy.
“San, make him turn it off.”
“Wait, what?” San finally looks at you, hands balled into fists by your side as Sunwoo continues working his magic. “Like, turn off the stream or–“
“No, donate like twenty bucks to turn it off, I’ll pay you back later– I just hope no one pays higher to keep it on…”
“You’re cruel,” San scoffs, but he’s grinning just as sadistically as you as he sets up the donation to turn off the cock ring and the vibrator at the same time, and to your luck, as soon as the donation goes through, Hyunjin’s body goes limp as both toys immediately turn off.
“No, no, no, please let me come!” Hyunjin borderline screams, voice cracking under the strain as tears stain his pretty cheeks. His hips twitch in search of the stimulation he just lost, but within seconds he’s spurting cum all over his stomach and the sheets beneath him completely untouched, gasping and thrashing around on the bed. “No, fuck, no, please…”
He sobs into the sheets, the muscles in his arms bulging with effort to free himself from his restraints, but the moment passes and his dick is still achingly hard and an angry red from his ruined orgasm. His ruined orgasm after being edged for possibly hours by strangers, the orgasm that you decided to ruin just to see him squirm.
The rush of power hits you all at once, and with the addition of Sunwoo rubbing at your clit with vigour, you follow after Hyunjin, hips bucking up into Sunwoo’s warm hand as your high rolls through you in waves. You don’t make much noise beyond a brief groan, wanting to hear Hyunjin continue to plead, higher-pitched this time as the toys turn on again to overstimulate him after having his orgasm ruined. He’s an absolute wreck, covered in sweat, tears and cum, hair sticking to his face and framing his head on the mattress like a crown, and you find yourself coming harder than you usually would just from rubbing one out with someone’s fingers.
Sunwoo smirks, retracting his hand and licking them clean, moaning at the taste as he finishes in his own fist, grunting lowly at the feeling. Wanting to repay his generosity, you lean over and take his dick in your mouth, sucking it clean and making him twitch wildly at the oversensitivity, but you move to suck his fingers clean instead before it becomes too much, and he strokes your hair affectionately with his free hand as a silent thank you.
San is a lot louder as he gets closer, moaning and biting his lip, face scrunched up in pleasure. “Me next, please, I’m so close, just–“ He gently holds the back of your head, and you allow him to lead you to his cock and take the tip in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base while you suck. “Fuck! Yes, just like that, thank you, fuck, I’m gonna come– can you– can I–“
You hum in confirmation, swirling your tongue around him and making sure to drag the ball of your piercing along the underside of the sensitive head just the way he likes it, and he comes within seconds, emptying his load on your tongue. As hot as the action is, it doesn’t taste great, probably due to the amount of americanos he’s been drinking as of late – so, feeling a little cheeky, you lean up to kiss him in his post-orgasm glow, and make sure to shove your tongue in his mouth and give you a taste of himself.
“Mmh–!” He makes a cutely disgruntled noise as you, for all practical purposes, spit his cum back in his mouth, but he doesn’t push you off him right away. When he does, he clicks his tongue a few times with a scrunched nose, tasting himself, then sticks his tongue out. “Okay, loud and clear, you don’t have to say it.”
You snicker at that, happy with your petty revenge and his endearingly peeved expression. “Less coming in my mouth till you lessen your coffee intake, ya nasty.”
San chuckles, covering his face with his arm in mild embarrassment. Only mild – it would probably be far more embarrassing with a partner or a hook-up, but the runaways unique closeness shines through once more as it doesn’t seem to bother him or ruin the moment. There wasn’t much of a moment to ruin, really – it was simply a casual release between friends. Bandmates. Whatever. It was casual, is the point, and comfortable enough to pick on each other like this and for him to dismiss it. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’ll invest in some pineapple juice or something.”
Sunwoo simply snorts at the exchange, tucking himself back into his pants and getting up. “Alright, I’m gonna go get us dinner, San are you staying?”
He beams, dimples on full display, charming as can be. “If you would be so kind, yes please.”
The other man simply rolls his eyes as he grabs his keys and goes to slip his shoes on. “I’m only so generous to you because you effectively pay for all our snacks by not looking while on duty.” He turns to you just as he’s about to head out the door. “Give some thought to what we were talking about earlier.”
San glances at you in confusion at you at that, but you don’t pay him any mind. “I think I wanna hear your answer first, mister.”
Sunwoo quirks a brow, the slightest of smirks pulling at his plush lips. That damn infuriating smirk that you usually love but is now driving you an entirely foreign kind of crazy that you are not equipped to deal with.
“Hm. I think that in itself tells me yours.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to elaborate or respond, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind him, leaving you feeling as exposed as Hyunjin was on the screen moments earlier. Of course he has to get the last word in, that ass – but the implications of it haunt you all the way to your bed that night, staring at the ceiling, while Sunwoo sleeps with an arm around you like nothing – or maybe everything? – ever happened.
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trappedwriter · 10 months
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Chapter 28
Content Warning, this is intended for people that are 18+ and this chapter includes ddlg themes (always forced age regression) abdl themes, mentions of killing, torture and cannibalism, fluff, lots of swearing.
Sebastian’s POV:
After putting the girls to bed, Chris and I spent the evening disposing of all the meat in our freezers. We couldn’t remember exactly who the girls ate but we must’ve had someone else for dinner. Our poor girls got sick and as much as it hurt us to get rid of our hard earned work, we couldn’t have our precious littles getting sick again. Instead of wasting it we decided to give it to Marc. I’m sure he would make good use out of it. He prefers killing and torturing over eating but he’s a firm believer in not leaving behind any evidence. Marc knew all about how evidence works, how forensic teams can find the tiniest bit of evidence and have your life ruined within a couple of days. It’s always good to have someone on the inside of the police force who is on our side.
———
I woke up to the sound of little pitter patters on the hardwood floor next to me. Without opening an eye, I swooshed open the blanket and felt her little body fall against my chest. I held her closely by the waist and flipped the both of us around so that we were facing Chris, that earned a little giggle from her. “Shh little one, dada is asleep.” I kissed the top of her head. “Otay” was the only response I got followed not long after by faint little snores that accompanied loud ones. I lay there for a time and just enjoyed. I snuggled in closer to Chris, gently smushing our little one between our bodies.
When I woke up for the second time, the bed was empty. My snuggle buddies had abandoned me. Probably for the best. Jessica’s diaper was already soggy when she came in this morning. Wouldn’t want a… I rolled over and immediately felt a huge wet patch on the bed. Great. I got up and stripped the sheets, showered, and joined my family in the kitchen.
“Good morning, babe, and little ones. How did we all sleep?” I asked as I walked over to the kitchen island and kissed Chris on the lips. I got a chorus of “great” from the little ones and a groan from Chris. Grabbing what I could from the fridge, I made myself a decent breakfast. A reminder that we had to go to the grocery store today. Chris and I had talked about it last night and we both agreed that Jessica would come to the store with me today. We trust her the most and plus she needs a little daddy daughter day.
After clearing up the mess the little ones made, I sat Jessica down and explained what was going to happen. “Honey, I want you to listen very, very carefully, okay?” “Otay” I smiled and continued “you and daddy are gonna go on a little date to the grocery store. If you are super-duper good then maybe we can get some new toys and ice cream, how does that sound?” I’ve seen Jessica excited before but never this excited. She bounced around on her little tiptoes, she wouldn’t even stop when she was getting ready. 20 mins later we were all packed up in the car, Jessica firmly strapped into her car seat happily looking out the window whilst I was a bundle of nerves. It was the first outing from the campsite, Jessica knew the rules but how well it would go would depend on her.
———
An hour later and we arrived at Edgewood, a small town with a population of only 204. The perfect place to stop for groceries. I parked the car outside the local grocery store and helped Jessica out of her car seat. “Remember the rules honey, misbehave and there will be no toys, no ice cream and much worse punishments to come.” No response, she just nodded her head. I took her hand in mine and grabbed a cart. Sadly, she wouldn’t fit in it so I had to trust that she wouldn’t run away.
I handed her the list and she proceeded to read out the items. She was so adorable trying to pronounce the words, we both knew she could, but she was playing her part. She’s definitely a good little actress. After picking out all the fruit and vegetables, we made our way to the cereal section. Jessica didn’t need to look down to read what we had to get, she knew exactly what we were getting. She looked up at me with begging eyes (god I loved when she did that) and I gave a silent nod. She took off squealing and ran towards the cheerio’s. I couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle.
A woman, a very beautiful one appeared next to me “she’s adorable.” I tried not to jump but she did surprise me. “Thank you.” I responded. I didn’t take my eyes off of Jessica. The woman continued “I wish my little girl was as well behaved as…” Picking up on why she stopped I interrupted “mine, she’s, my daughter.” Jessica returned to the cart carrying a very large family size package of cheerio’s, plopped them into the cart and slid her hand back into mine. Good girl.
The woman smiled and introduced herself “I’m Aliyah, but you can call me Ali.” With my other free hand, I reach out to shake her gorgeous hand “Brad and this is Riley.” Ali bent down “hi Riley it’s so nice to meet you, how old are you?” Jessica put up four fingers. “oh wow, you’re very tall for your age. You must have your daddy’s genes.” She straightens up and as she does, her eyes take in every inch of me. I chuckle “that she does.” I pull Jessica closer to me. Ali smiled at the loving affection “Are you new here?” I kept calm, can’t show any signs of stress. “No, we’re just visiting some family.” “Oh, that’s a shame, have you been here recently before? It’s just I recognise Riley, I dunno where from, maybe the park?” Shit. “Yeah, we have been here a couple of times, my aunt is sick, and Riley has been spending some time with her cousins, I dunno probably went to the park at some point.” I smiled, hoping that was a good answer.
It wasn’t. Ali looked at me questioning and angry “Wait, probably? Don’t you know where your little girl is at all times. What the fuck kind of parent doesn’t know where their child is. There are creeps out there, anyone could have taken her and your response is “I dunno probably at the park”, and here’s me thinking you’re hot I was gonna give you my number. You need to sort out your shit and take better care of her, ya hear me?”
At this point, lots of shoppers were looking down the aisle, wanting to look at all the commotion. Not what I wanted. I didn’t say a word but dragged Jessica down the bottom aisle and into the next one. People were giving me weird looks and were looking at Jessica. Not wanting to drag her around, I forced her into the child’s seat in the cart. She whined and a few tears fell but I quickly wiped them away, not wanting to add to the new attention. I grabbed random tins of food and went to checkout.
The cashier was too happy and bubbly and I didn’t have the energy to force myself to be nice to her. “Good morning, sir, were you able to find everything you were looking for today?” “Yes” I answered angrily. The woman clearly didn’t like my tone but continued to ramble on. “And would you like these bagged or…” “I’ll do it myself for fucks sake.” She didn’t like that at all “sir, please refrain from using that language around me and your child. It’s not tolerated.” She looked at Jessica and her eyes widened. Fuck. “Sir I’m gonna need to make a quick call, please stay here.” And off she popped, frantically walking to appears to be the staff room. I knew that look and without hesitation I threw the money on the counter and took off with Jessica.
I flung the food into the car and tried to get Jessica out of the cart. Fuck sake why did she have to be so big. I struggled but eventually got her out and buckled up. I abandoned the cart and sped off hoping that no one saw the license plates. I was full on panicking, the cashier knew Jessica but how. What are we gonna do. All these thoughts were racing in my head, meanwhile Jessica’s was crying in the back seat. I stopped the car and turned around to her “what the fuck is wrong? Would you stop crying.” She let out a shaky “ice cream toys.” “You’re not getting any now just shut up.” I yelled. I picked up my phone and texted Chris.
Code red: We have to go, NOW!
Chapter 29
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newty · 5 months
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dion fic ch2 meta and edit process!
this chapter kicked my butt! i did not expect it to get so long but overall i like the places i went to a lot. overall i think that in a perfect world, there's a lot i would have extended and lingered on more, but the work it would take + the return it would give wouldn't be that different. i wanted to move on rather than beat over the same themes in the name of a smoothly completed scene. i think this choice is evident in the way each scene ends a bit abruptly.
this was the hardest chapter to keep my limited 3rd person pov active tho omg. terence and kihel had so many thoughts that i had to hold onto for later while dion made everything about himself. this chapter was full of demands on terence, but it also will be the end of dion's passivity after he realized that he was party to his own 'uselessness.'
i like that i was able to keep dion's relationship with kihel a little fraught, too. i didnt want them to be immediately buddy-buddy in some kind of Destined Together vein, so it was important for me to keep giving them misunderstandings and things that isolated them from each other.
their conversation while gathering yarrow is also a mess i enjoy. kihel doesn't have the ability to express herself as succinctly as dion does, so it becomes extremely one-sided, awkward, and confusing with too many emotions that don't get properly tied up. walking away and not addressing that (beyond some lousy attempts) was important to me. they're all in an extremely uncomfortable situation and nothing will relieve that but time (and more earnest but lousy attempts).
i think that the aether floods disappeared within a few weeks or less of the game's end. people still avoid those areas from superstition, which freed up moore for some bearer irony. at first i wanted to fill the town with branded while the chapel operated like a sanctuary for those in worse health, but then i narrowed the whole operation to the chapel and ahmed. the dragon was also irony re: doing its job rly bady and being a confused angry disabled weapon that terence has to smack down with
speaking of terence. hes exhausted. i wanted to give the dragon fight some Real Repercussions but after dion went thru his whole church monologue i was like. yeah no i dont need to add another thing to the pot rn. i also wanted him comparatively healthy to dion and his rock skin.
anyway. worming in part of the eucharistic prayer/roman canon into dions orgasm was probably top tier blasphemy im ngl. that sex scene was an absolute MESS of half-conversations and lifelong guilt. at some point i sat there like. if these bitches dont stop being sad abt the One good thing ive allowed them, im gonna have to find Another way to get them to be shitty dads and leave a re-traumatized girl home alone so they can try again.
have i mentioned lately that i love writing idiot men that find increasingly convoluted ways to validate their increasingly selfish decisions. bc. theyre back.
regardless, the bit of prayer after my shameless lifting of ascension lyrics is from an intersession to st george. shout-out to the prof dragon killer himself but hes got good violent prayers. i also made a really accidental shout-out to ffx tidus/yuna kiss and had to stare at a wall for 15 minutes until i decided i was NOT going to rewrite it into smth else. i just like the ocean and wanted to incorporate part of its danger into snapping dion out of his emotional suicide plan. and terence's tattoo is ffiii bahamut by amano.
next chapter is The Family Problems I Ignored And Compartmentalized For 30+ Years Are Coming Back To Bite Me In The Ass Now That I've Started My Own Fantasy Family. and TERENCE POV, FINALLY
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fatherramiro · 2 years
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For the unpub/unwritten ask game: 4, 8, 15, 16
thank you!!
4. Is there anything in the fic you're unsure about including?
for my big lost rewrite that centers dan, char, and miles, im really hesitant about killing off jack so early on - i don't want to alienate anyone by not having him there, i just want to explore what lost would look like if the producers had followed that original plan? im also going to be curious how people react to how im incorporating both theresa and the o6 plotline
for the last part of the nothing's forever series, im a little unsure of how people are going to react to the resolution of the anna plot. but that's because why she was important to include isn't clear until that fic so im mostly wondering if people are going to think that what happens with her is motivation enough for charlotte and dan in that story.
8. Which character is gonna have the biggest storyline?
in all my unwritten fics, i think dan has the biggest plotline (certainly in the big lost rewrite, and he shares equal importance with charlotte in the charladay AU im working on). he's just my darling blorbo. though charlotte usually gets equal plot
15. Do you have any unwritten scene that you think about a lot?
YES!! from the big lost rewrite, im always thinking about a few scenes, and from the charladay AU im just constantly thinking about how to make it fit with canon and what that means for certain scenes. im so excited to write the sixth part of nothing's forever because i think it'll really tie a lot of my plot threads together (and also there's a really immensely emotional arc that starts next chapter and goes through the rest of the fic)
ive also been imaging a scene where dan and sawyer talk about lost love from my season six compliant fic because. wow that would've been a lot instead of having sawyer treat dan's grief as him being "crazy"
16. Is there any written scene that you think about a lot?
the opening scene of the upcoming dan and sawyer buddy fic is probably my favorite dan POV scene ive written tbh, because i feel like it manages to set up his arc really well and in an in character way!
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gloriousfemaleworrier · 2 months
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fic update #1
Chapter two is on her way.
T'will be either Ted's POV or Keeley's, I haven't decided yet.
These next few chapters are where the angst is gonna come from, folks, but we'll also see some very Parent Trap-ish behavior from Keeley, Beard, and Roy super soon so that's fun!
Ted has a rough few chapters ahead of him, not gonna lie -
Rebecca is improving slightly (overdue breakup and healthy support system) but Ted is absolutely not improving in any way whatsoever.
Sorry, Ted. Things are about to get so much worse, buddy. Consider this my vengeance upon not Ted but the actor who portrays Ted, who also happens to be one of the writers and the source of my endless frustration. Curse you, Jason Sudeikis.
I promise I will not let Ted be at rock bottom for very long (probably) but he needs to make some major realizations and I need that to happen in a very dramatic and emotional manner so our boy is gonna cry a lot.
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mrs-faggot · 4 years
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I love the Penumbra Podcast fandom but also why is no one talking about Juno Steel and The Shadows On The Ship Part 2.
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makeste · 4 years
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BnHA Chapter 285: You Looked Like You Needed Saving
Previously on BnHA: Deku was all, “hey guys I’m just gonna fight Tomura one on one and risk my own life rather than risk letting him do the whole Destroying Everything bit again.” Kacchan was all “WAIT NO ARE YOU SERIOUS THAT’S THE EXACT THING I HATE THE MOST” and indignantly launched into his “P.S. I CARE ABOUT DEKU” flashback, which was a revelation in that it proved exactly what Bakugou fans have been saying this whole time, AND YET OUR MINDS WERE STILL BLOWN ANYWAY, BECAUSE HOLY SHIT, HE REALLY WENT AND SAID IT OUT LOUD THOUGH. Anyway, so Deku’s strategy for defeating Tomura is to, you guessed it, break his fucking arms again; and meanwhile a frantic Katsuki is gearing up on the sidelines to do something really awesome and incredibly stupid, probably; and all in all it’s a pretty terrible situation our boys have found themselves in. Terrible for them, but GREAT for me, and I’ve never been so hyped in my life omg.
Today on BnHA: Deku breaks both of his arms like a dozen times over. Like, just pages and pages of arm breaking. Just like in the good old days! Meanwhile Kacchan is all “jesus christ, okay you know what would be a better idea, JUST SETTING HIM ON FIRE AGAIN”, and so he grabs Shouto and Endeavor, and they do a whole Prominence Burn combo thing. The AFO-inside-of-Tomura is all “‘sup it’s me again, but seriously now would be a REALLY good time to let me take over your body”, and so Tomura TOTALLY DOES LET HIM TAKE OVER, WHOOP, and so AFO is all “HELLS YEAH.” And then he STRAIGHT UP STABS MY SON, WHOSE BODY WAS SIMPLY MOVING ON ITS OWN, YOU KNOW, JUST HERO THINGS. Anyway so now Kacchan is fucking dead*, and so if I were AFO I would start putting as much distance as possible between myself and Deku right the fuck now, because boy, IF YOU THOUGHT HE WAS MAD BEFORE? Holy shit. We’re about to see a whole new level aren’t we.
LOL WE’RE OFF TO A GRAND OLD START
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Deku’s arms should sue for legal emancipation. I think most of us can agree that they’re probably better off without him. sure they’ll have to buy their own food and stuff, but I think the trade-off is more than fair
oh wow that 100% shit really is something though
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too bad it did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!! spoiler alert. I don’t even have to scroll to the next page, Deku. we already know
OH MY GOD ARE YOU SERIOUS
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did Deku really pull off some “three hits in one” bullshit, or is this a mistranslation referring to the fact that Deku’s already hit him twice with his left arm, and so this is now the third 100% hit. kinda hoping for the latter, ngl. either way though, I’m really getting a “Deku’s arms are legitimately done for” vibe from this
ESPECIALLY SINCE:
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DEKU YOU SHRUB!!! WAS IT WORTH IT YOU EGG FDKF KKDJ YOU DON’T GET BONUS POINTS FOR BREAKING THEM TWICE
goddammit I’m pretty sure he just Detroit Smashed the last remaining hero brain cell. now they have diddly squat to work with, oh this is bad
...
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do you guys remember a few weeks back when I was joking about him breaking the rest of his bones and using Blackwhip to move his shattered body around like a grotesque marionette. do you specifically remember the part where that was a joke
holy shit Deku. it’s like we’re all the way back to square one with you. wasn’t that like the first thing Aizawa taught you, not to break your whole body apart? how are you supposed to fight Tomura if you can’t move?? why didn’t you wait for one of your pals who could hit him with an attack from long range WITHOUT BREAKING EVERY SINGLE BONE IN THEIR BODIES. WHERE DID YOUR BIG HERO BRAIN GO
boy you better pray one of those remaining quirks is a healing factor, or else you’re gonna be on IR for a LONG time. anyway. idk why I’m getting so worked up when I already knew this was going to happen lol. it’s just like Katsuki said; he takes himself out of the equation. it’s worth sacrificing his own body if it means he can take out AFO and prevent Tomura from hurting anyone else again. it’s just that... well. you know that saying about taking calculated risks when you are bad at math?
GUH I REALLY HATE THAT TOMURA IS STILL COMPLETELY FINE KSKWOILWKKJ AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE A LITTLE HURT, WOULD YOU
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please ignore all of those worried-sounding thoughts; I think we all know that’s a bunch of bullshit. completely and utterly fine. the only person Deku’s attacks hurt was himself. hip hip hooray
anyway. so now, this!
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pretty sure he can’t use Decay or AFO without at least touching SOMETHING, so I’m guessing this is another one of his new quirks. dammit Tomura why are you so fucking invincible
HAHAHA MEANWHILE
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if I were you, Deku’s Arms, I would simply detach from his body altogether at this point. cut my losses. mmm
OOF HE HIT HIM WITH THE WHOLE OF TEXAS
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spoiler alert: again, it did nothing. SORRY TO KEEP RUINING THE SUSPENSE FOR YOU GUYS. is there a single human being reading this who thought for even for the milliest of seconds that this stood a chance of working though
OH MY GOD
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DEKU GET IT TOGETHER YOU’RE STARTING TO LOOK LIKE THE ENIGMA OF AMIGARA FAULT AND I CAN’T STAND THIS ACTUALLY
so Tomura is all “there must be something I can do to stop this fucking kid” and shuffling through his quirk pokedex while he’s tossed around bleeding in the air
hey Tomura I’ll tell you right now that you don’t actually need to do a damn thing except not die for roughly the next thirty seconds or so, and then you’ve got this. the quirk that can stop this kid is called “One for All”, and it just so happens he’s already got you covered bruh
and Katsuki’s realized the same thing, apparently!
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SHOUTO YOU’RE NOT EVEN LOOKING?? wow that is some trust right there. focused on cauterizing Gran and Aizawa’s wounds, I guess
MEANWHILE KATSUKI IS PULLING OUT ALL THE STOPS. HE FOUND A NEW BRAIN CELL! A WHOLE DAMN CACHE OF FRESH NEW BRAIN CELLS, LOOK AT THIS
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THANKS FOR THAT, PROFESSOR
OH SHIT SON ARE WE MOUNTING A COUNTERATTACK?
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I like how Endeavor is just SITTING THERE in the background looking all disgruntled. yes, sorry about that sir, this is now Kacchan’s show. he’s in charge now. time for that long-range attack I was complaining about them not doing earlier?? hopefully?? omg
OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT’S A BAKUROKI TRIPLE COMBO?!?!
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ARE YOU GOING TO YEET THEM A LA GANG ORCA?? ALSO OH MY GOD, HE REALLY IS IN CHARGE. FIRST DEKU TOOK OVER FOR TWO MINUTES UNTIL HE BROKE ALL HIS BONES, AND NOW IT’S KACCHAN’S TIME. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU KIDS
LOL SHOUTO’S GETTING IN ON THIS TOO
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THIS JUST IN, THE KIDS HAVE TAKEN OVER THE MANGA, ADULTS OF BNHA IN SHAMBLES
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WELL MAYBE NEXT TIME DON’T LET AIZAWA GET SHOT THEN, YOU HAT!!!
WOOP OKAY WE FLYING NOW
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Kacchan, tired of sitting back watching Deku invent new ways to die, decides to improvise a few of his own. hmmmmmmm
(ETA: HE LEARNED FROM THE BEST ORZ.)
OKAY WAIT A MINUTE NOW
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why does this sound like he’s planning something on his own after the Todorokis have done their part. KACCHAN. EXCUSE ME, KACCHAN
SDLFKJLKJLJ
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OKAY HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE
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IS THIS LEADING WHERE I THINK IT’S LEADING, HOLY --
-- ooOF
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I WASN’T FUCKING READY FOR THAT ONE. BAKUBULLYING FROM HIS OWN NOW-REMORSEFUL POV. SHIT. FUCKING FELT THAT. HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE BUILDING UP TO AN “ALL FOR ONE FOR ALL” REVEAL, AND THEN YOU GO AND PULL THAT INSTEAD, WHAT’S GOING ON
-- HOLD UP WE’RE NOT DONE WITH THIS ONE YET MAYBE!!
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“ONE FOR ALL IS”??!? KDSLFJAKLSJLKJLKJL AND THEN INTERRUPTING ME WITH THE CUTE BABIES WATCHING THE ALL MIGHT FOOTAGE, OH MY GOD. I’M JUST WILDLY REACTING TO EVERYTHING THAT’S BEING THROWN AT ME RIGHT NOW LMAO I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS IS LEADING
OOF THE NOTEBOOK
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KACCHAN THIS ISN’T EVEN YOUR MEMORY HONEY, GET IT TOGETHER
OH MY GLOB
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THIS IS THE MOST NONSENSICAL SEQUENCE OF PANELS RIGHT NOW. I’M SURE THIS IS ALL SHORTLY GOING TO COME TOGETHER IN SOME PROFOUND WAY THAT’S GOING TO KICK MY EMOTIONS SQUARE IN THE BALLS, BUT RIGHT NOW I’M JUST ALL “OOH AHH” LIKE SOME HAPLESS RUBE ALONG FOR THE RIDE. p.s. this chapter still doesn’t have a title!! p.p.s. Horikoshi is a knave
(ETA: HORIKOSHI IS A FUCKING MALFEASANT!!)
I CAN’T TAKE THIS??
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PLEASE STOP BUILDING UP TO WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE BUILDING UP TO AND JUST SAY IT ALREADY, I’M DYING OMG
...and we’re cutting back to the action. godfuckingdammit it’s gonna be one of those chapters where the entire thing is just buildup to some huge reveal on the very last page isn’t it
(ETA: [sounds of screaming heard in the distance])
anyway so this next page is just Deku flying in the air, and Tomura flying through the air, and Endeavor+Katsuki+Shouto flying through the air, and everyone’s flying through the air, and we’re all just flying. TALK TO ME MORE ABOUT THE CURSE OF OFA DAMN IT
OOHHHHHH
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guess if it was good enough for Hood, it’s probably their best shot huh. better than whatever the fuck Deku was trying to pull at any rate
OOP
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gotta admit, if I didn’t already know full well that Tomura could not possibly die here, I’d have been pretty convinced he was dying here lol
DSFKJL ENDEAVOR BUDDY YOU MIGHT HAVE POSSIBLY OVERDONE IT JUST A BIT
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wait... is that Blackwhip...?? or???
OH SHIT
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WHAT EVEN IS THIS CHAPTER, COME ON
-- FMMMJAKAKJDJL, UM
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TIME TO SCROLL BACK UP TO THAT PANEL OF TOMURA BEING MELTED, AND READ WHAT AFO WAS SAYING A LITTLE MORE CAREFULLY LMAOOOO. LOL. WHOOPS. OH NO KATSUKI WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
AHHHHHHHH
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WHAT’S WITH THE NARRATION SQUARE ALL OF A SUDDEN AHHHHHH
oh my fresh and citrusy lord. this is it isn’t it. all of my theories converge at once. Tomura being possessed by AFO; OFA is AFO/Deku has AFO; Katsuki does something stupid and loses his quirk. THE PERFECT STORM. THEORY SINGULARITY
oh my lord oh my god oh my lord oh my god honey what are you doing, honey, no
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his body’s moving before he can think. WHAT ARE THESE FLASHBACKS OF ALL HIS DEKU RELATED MEMORIES. BULLYING DEKU, BEING SAVED FROM THE SLUDGE MONSTER, RECONCILING WITH HIM AT GROUND BETA, OH MY GOD. I’M NOT READY. [WRAPS MYSELF IN A BLANKET BURRITO AND SLOWLY SCROLLS DOWN FROM THE SAFETY OF MY COCOON]
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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HORIKOSHI KOUHEI: [LOADS GUN WITH CHAPTER TITLE AND AIMS DIRECTLY FOR MY HEART]
ME: [SWEATING]
HORIKOSHI: [SMILES, REACHES FOR THE TRIGGER... AND THEN SUCKER PUNCHES ME SQUARE IN THE FACE]
excuse me WHAT. PARDON, THE FUCK. WHY ARE THE FIRST FEW LONE PIANO NOTES OF ADELE’S “SKYFALL” PLAYING. WHAT THE FUCK
excuse me, Horikoshi. excuse me, could I just -- could I get. COULD I JUST GET A WORD WITH YOU FOR A MINUTE. SIR
son of a. ...how am I even supposed to wrap this up. just
sob okay. so let’s just. ...
All for One 100% just took Tomura’s body over. like, he was all “Tomura, you’re fucking dying, just give me your body you muppet”, and Tomura couldn’t really argue on account of he really was dying, and so, YOINK. which is the sound that a body makes when it’s being taken over, I think
All for One then activated his forced activation quirk?? which OF FUCKING COURSE he passed on to Tomura as well. so THAT’S JUST GREAT
Kacchan is seriously the fastest character in the series. the reflexes, the sheer speed necessary to intercept that hit? goddamn
every single one of those BakuDeku flashbacks are now wanted by the FBI for first-degree murder of me
this has nothing to do with Kacchan fucking dying and stuff, but is it just me or were there HUGE “Kacchan as Bakugou’s hero name” vibes earlier on in this chapter with the flashbacks to Deku explaining the meaning behind his own name, HMM
and speaking of, this is the first time we’ve gotten Kacchan narrating in the little box panels, unless I’m completely mistaken somehow. Horikoshi really waited almost 300 whole chapters to do that. and it was worth it. holy shit
fun fact, this moment is something that’s been on my wishlist since chapter 12 lol, you can go back and check the recap if you want. back then I called it a long shot. oh how the times have changed
I DON’T KNOW HOW I’M EVEN SO STUNNED ABOUT THIS, GUYS. this is exactly what I predicted at the end of the last chapter. MY CHILD IS DUMB. THAT’S ALL THERE IS TO IT. HE’S THAT EXACT KIND OF SHOUNEN DUMB. WE’VE KNOWN IT ALL ALONG
oh my god. and now Deku’s gonna go ham, arms or no arms. AND BETS ON WHICH NEW QUIRK HE’S ABOUT TO UNLOCK? because the last time someone so much as insulted Kacchan in his presence, he SPONTANEOUSLY GREW SHADOW TENTACLES OUT OF THE BLUE AND ATTEMPTED TO MURDER THE PERSON. so if this kid has got ANYTHING left up his sleeve, I have to imagine that SEEING HIS PRECIOUS CHILDHOOD FRIEND TAKE A DEADLY ATTACK MEANT FOR HIM is gonna leave him feeling SOME KINDA WAY. I literally have no idea what’s going to happen next but I would not count this angry little broccoli out yet. not as long as he’s still conscious
anyway. so I wonder what’s the world record for continuous screaming, and whether or not I could break said record by doing such nonstop from now until a week from now when I finally get to read the next chapter
...lol apparently the record is only 8 mins and 45 seconds so GOOD NEWS GUYS, WITH THE POWER OF THIS NEW CHAPTER, WE ARE GOING TO MAKE HISTORY. DEEP BREATH. -- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
363 notes · View notes
horansqueen · 3 years
Text
New Angel - Chapter 11
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story masterlist [x]
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chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10
NOTES
☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.6k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE
NIALL
We remained half an hour together in silence. I tried to focus on her breathing or the way her fingers would squeeze mine from time to time. After a while though, I decided to get up and ask everyone to leave. It took me twenty minutes until the apartment was empty but I couldn't lie and pretend I hadn't noticed Louis' shoes near the door along with a pair I had never seen before. Thinking that we would all have to eat breakfast together on the next morning was making me nauseous but I decided not to mention anything to Millie.
"Wow, it's so quiet. Did you kill everyone?" she asked with a smirk, making me chuckle as I leaned against her door frame.
"Told them to leave. I just thought it was late enough."
"Thank you, Niall. For... listening."
I glanced at the hall and decided to walk back in her room and close the door behind me. I was pretty sure Louis couldn't hear anything or that he would even want to, or try to, but I didn't want to take the chance.
"How do you feel?" I asked softly, walking closer to her as she sat up and leaned against the wall behind her.
"Like shit." she admitted, shrugging a shoulder. "I spent all night crying, and I want to do that again right now but I'm exhausted. I just don't want Louis to know, because I don't want him to feel bad. I'm so... scared to lose him completely."
I blinked a few times, feeling my heart twist in my chest at her confession, and finally licked my lips. "Wait here."
I didn't wait for her answer and quickly rushed out to reach the kitchen. I was gone for less than a minute and when I closed the door behind me again, I held the wine bottle to Millie and kept the vodka one before sitting back on her bed, facing her. She laughed and shook her head, already a bit tipsy, and tilted her head a bit, still staring at me.
"That's the best remedy when you feel like shit."
"One that you end up regretting in the morning." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows with a grin.
I shrugged and took a sip of vodka, trying not to make a grimace as it burned my throat. "They say what matters is now, so let's numb that pain."
Once again, Millie laughed and took a long sip of wine. The more she drank, the more my lips curled and after a while, I decided to go sit next to her, if only to be able to lean against the wall. I was feeling dizzy and blinked a few times to see better, but I also felt in peace and happy. I didn't want to think about Grace and how she broke my heart. I didn't want to think about Summer and her confession. I just wanted to get drunk and forget that I even had a heart at all. I wanted to forget that it was broken, that it was aching, that it was beating.
"I don't think you can really lose Louis." I admitted after we joked and laughed for over an hour. "A friendship like the three of us have... it can't be broken like that."
"People change, Niall. You and I were not really close a few weeks ago. You seriously got on my nerves and I was pretty sure I was annoying you, too."
I smiled sadly and turned to her, feeling my lips curl into a fond smile despite myself. I was drunk and tired but I knew exactly what I was saying and I couldn't lie to her anyway.
"Yea, you got on my nerves. You still do, but a bit differently. I never met anyone else who was so... honest and open about everything. It can be a shock sometimes, but I'm getting used to it."
Millie grabbed the bottle of vodka from my hands and that's when I realized that she had swallowed what was left of the wine. She took a small sip and wiped her mouth with the back of her hands before giving me the bottle back.
"I've been lied to so much. I've been... played, and cheated on, and had my heart broken. I told you, I know a lot about break ups." she admitted right before her eyes met mine. I could read how sad and hurt she was and I wanted to take her in my arms to comfort her. "I was always quite forward but when I was 14, after my first break up, I decided I'd never lie. I know sometimes I'm rude and I'm sorry. I'll work on that."
"I'm mostly used to hypocrite people. They don't know that I can read them and know what they really think. The cool thing with you is that I always know what you really think. That's not a flaw." I said before my voice became softer. "I don't get why you're lying to Louis about your feelings, though. Why are you sparing him?"
Her small smile fell and I could see her eyes water but we both remained motionless. "It's me I'm trying to save, Niall. It's a selfish move. I'm not trying to get him back, or show him what he's missing. I'm trying to get over him quick so I can get my friend back."
The fact that we were both trying to get over someone we had feelings for, even if for different reason, made me feel suddenly closer to her. The story was different, the relationships were different, but that hole in our chests was the exact same, I knew it.
"Maybe you should try to find a friends with benefits like what I have with Summer." I shrugged a shoulder, making her chuckle low.
"That's what I had with Louis apparently. I think I'm gonna pass for now."
I let my eyes roam on her face and she leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes. She looked miserable and I knew I probably looked just as bad. I started asking myself if she was right, and if maybe I shouldn't have started something with someone so soon, even if it was just a sex thing. I was not ready and I felt like I was just playing with Summer. I had been clear, or at least I thought I had, but with what she had told me earlier at the party I knew I was going to have to take a decision and then have a painful discussion with her. It made me want to lock me here, with Millie, and never come out.
"You're gonna miss having sex." I pointed out.
She opened her eyes as her eyebrows raised and when she turned her head my way, her lips curled into an amused smile. "Why do you think that?"
"I heard you and Louis," I started with a chuckle, shaking my head. "I only have three words : hard, intense and often."
I felt my heart jump in my chest, feeling suddenly bad that I brought up Louis again, along with a few good memories they had and I was pretty sure a few of those sexual encounters were playing in her mind at that exact moment but she just smiled more before bursting out in laughter.
"Okay, maybe you're right, Niall!" she admitted in-between chuckles. "I'm probably gonna miss sex! But I have hands. And toys. I'll be okay. Maybe you'll even hear me again!"
My face twisted in a grimace and I let out a short groan, making her laugh even more. She pushed me gently and I nudged her back. "That's way too much info!"
"Hey, if no one's gonna take care of my libido, then I will!" she argued with a big smile. "I know you touch yourself too, even when you were with Grace, and even now that you literally have a fuck buddy. It's just human nature."
"Maybe, but at least I'm discreet and quiet!"
"Probably because your orgasms are weak."
We both started laughing and when I glanced at her, she was laughing so hard that a few tears were falling down her cheeks.
I don't know how long we chatted and I couldn't remember when I fell asleep but I woke up in the middle of the night with a headache and feeling quite nauseous. I got up slowly and with difficulty, trying not to wake Millie up, and dragging my feet until the bathroom. I swallowed some meds and ended up drinking two full glasses of water before leaning against the counter and closing my eyes. It's only when I got out of the bathroom that I heard noises coming from the living room. I walked slowly, seeing lights moving around and frowned before realizing it was probably the tv. I stopped near the wall, leaning the side of my body against it until Louis looked up at me with tired eyes and a sorry smile.
"Are you still mad at me?"
I stared at him a few seconds and sighed low before shaking my head. His smile got slightly bigger and I walked to him, letting myself fall on the couch. I grimaced again as the pain in my head started thumping harder but I just closed my eyes for a few seconds and finally turned to Louis again.
"Mill told me she's the one who told you that you could bring your girlfriend." I admitted, debating whether or not I could say more without betraying Millie. "It's just.. Tommo, you should know better."
"I don't know, Niall." he started, looking down at his hands as he played nervously with his fingers. "I don't want to hurt Millie, but I'm so in love with Eleanor... I've never loved anyone like that, and I know I'll never feel like that for anyone ever again in my life. I know you can understand, right? I know you've been through that before."
His voice was soft and he didn't have to tell me how he felt. Just the way he pronounced her name, the way he talked about her, I knew he was head over heels in love with her. He was gentle and soft with Millie too, but never the way he was with his new girlfriend. I could almost see hearts in his eyes, even in the darkness of the room.
"I still love Grace, but if she came back, I don't know if I'd want to try again with her. She betrayed me and she broke me." I explained, shrugging a shoulder and staring into space as my ex girlfriend's face appeared in my mind. "I don't think I'd ever be able to trust her again."
"Do you think... Millie will ever trust me again?"
I held my breath and turned to look at him, blinking a few times. He looked sincerely scared and I sent him a small smile before nodding slowly. "Yea, probably. But it'll take time."
Their friendship seemed to be important for both of them and I couldn't help but hope it would get solved, too. Perhaps it was a bit selfish but I didn't want to be stuck in the middle of all this. I just wanted us to be friends like we used to be, and even closer, since I was now building a real and strong friendship with Millie. It was crazy to think that our broken hearts made us bond and it was a bit sad at the same time, but I guess it's true when they say that something good always comes out of a bad experience. Millie was my 'good thing' and I was thankful for her.
"It's cool that she's got you." Louis confessed in a low tone. "I've been a bad friend to her recently... or whatever you want to call the relationship we used to have. I mean, Im surprised. Millie doesn't trust easily. But it's cool."
I didn't want to tell him that all Millie needed was someone to care and listen to her but it's still what I thought. Somehow, she seemed to step aside or hide so no one would really ask about her. She was so used to help people but was uncomfortable when I was trying to help her in return. Shouldn't Louis know that?
"I'm happy I have her, too."
---
I could have walked back to my room to sleep in my bed but I hesitated, standing in the middle of the hall, my eyes moving from my door to Millie's door over and over again. I finally walked back in her room slowly to make sure I wouldn't wake her up and lied back down in bed next to her, over the covers. I brought my hands under my head and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. I couldn't stop thinking about Grace and Summer, trying to find out how I felt for them and what I could do about it. I finally turned on my side and fell asleep staring at Millie's back.
Unfortunately, the doorbell woke me up very early the next morning, or so I thought. I could feel the sun hitting my eyes and I groaned low, turning around and pushing my face in one of Millie's pillows. There was no way I was going to answer the door. I was not alone here and I was clearly hungover which, in my opinion, deserved a few more hours of sleep. I was about to fall back into slumber when it rang again. This time, Millie groaned next to me and moved a bit.
"There's someone annoying at the door!" she yelled in a mumble to whoever wanted to hear.
No one answered and I started wondering if Louis was still home or if he had left earlier with his girlfriend. I wanted to say he took into consideration what I had told him the night before and that he was kind enough to spare Millie some more pain and at the same time, I wanted him to be there so I wouldn't have to go answer the door.
It rang for the third time and Millie and I groaned at the exact same time, making me chuckle tiredly.
"Please Niall? Can you go?" she asked in a smooth and honeyed voice. "I'm heartbroken."
"I'm heartbroken too." I muttered low, my face still pressed on her pillow.
"Mine is more recent."
I tried to find an argument but finally just groaned and forced myself to get up. I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, making her chuckle sleepily.
"Next time it's you!"
"Yea yea..."
I rolled my eyes with a small smile and once again dragged my feet to the front door. I yawned and passed my hand in my hair, noticing how messy it was. As I opened the door, I told myself that perhaps I should have get dressed by my mind went completely blank when my eyes met the person on the other side of the door. My heart sank in my chest and my lips parted but I couldn't seem to move.
"Grace?"
The look she sent me was a mix of hope and guilt and it made me frown. I couldn't help but think that I had called it by discussing it with Louis during the night and at the same time, I was trying to tell myself that she was probably just here because of something she forgot in my room. After all, last time she was here was because she needed her passport, right?
"Niall, I really need to talk to you."
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toppersjeep · 2 years
Text
The One- [Jay Halstead X Matt Casey]
Chapter 8-I Want You
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Elle’s POV
“Will you just let me fix your tie at least” I said. “It looks fine don’t you have to get ready anyways” Jay said. “Yes I do” I said. “Then go do that” Jay said. “But please don’t laugh I absolutely hate dresses” I said. “Maybe a little” Jay said. “What am I going to do about you” I said.
I went into my room and put the dress on. I had my hair done up. Which was rare for me to do anything like that. I put on the necklace Justin had given me on my birthday a couple years ago. He had a matching bracelet. It made me feel like he was still here.
“Promise you won’t laugh” I said opening the door. “No I.. wow” Jay said. “A good wow or a bad wow” I said. “When attractive women stand in front of me I get speechless” Jay said I blushed.
“Well thank you” I said. “Of course your ready to go” Jay said. “Absolutely” I said grabbing my bag and the gift for Trudy and Mouch.
We got to Mollys everyone was there. I set the gift on the bar.
“You clean up pretty nice” Brett said. “You look great yourself” I said hugging her. “She does look pretty incredible” Cap said. “Watch it buddy” Jay said I laughed. “He’s kidding Cap” I said. “Oh alright” Cap said. “Elena Trudy asked for your help” Kim said. “You behave” I said.
“You got it” Jay said.
I went into the back with Kim and Stella.
“What’s going on” I said shutting the door. “I can’t do this” Trudy said. “Yes you can” Kim said. “Just take a drink” Stella said. “You ladies can’t even hold a man down” Trudy said. “Hey” Kim said. “And Elena you belong with Jay” Trudy said. “Everyone keeps saying that” I said.
“We’ll go for it your stubborn like your father” Trudy said. “Well thanks” I said handing her the flowers. “Alright ladies” Trudy said I smiled. “Show time” said Kim. I walked back out and sat by Jay and Brett. “There she is get lost” Jay said.
“No” I said he put an arm up around me.
Later…
“I’m so happy for you guys” I said Trudy smiled. “It’s always nice to have you here Elena” Mouch said hugging me. “Of course” I said. “I’ve known this beautiful girl since she was like 14 look at her now” Trudy said.
“She’s beautiful that’s for sure”Jay said. “Like her mom” Dad said. “Hank glad you could come” Mouch said. “Yeah I figured I’d stop by” Dad said. “Want a drink” Jay asked. “No I’m alright Jay Elena you look great” Dad said. “I don’t really dress up” I said. “Well you look happy I’ll be over there” Dad said.
“Want another drink” Jay said. “No I think I’m alright I’m gonna go bother Otis” I said walking up to the bar and taking a seat. “Hey” Otis said. “So where’s this new girl I’m hearing about” I said. “You see I really like Brett is just after Joe” Otis said.
“Yeah I get that” I said. “So you and Halstead” Otis said. “I mean I think so I just” I said looking over at him. “Well if it makes you feel better I think that you two would be better than, you and Jimmy” Otis said. “Don’t remind me about him” I said.
“Can I accompany a beautiful lady to the dance floor” Jay said. “Absolutely” I said. He took my hand and we slow danced next to Trudy and Mouch. “You do look really beautiful” Jay said. “Thanks” I said. “Never thought I’d see you in a dress” Jay said.
“It’s only gonna happen once” I said. “Maybe twice down the road” Jay said. “Halstead more dates first” I said. “Your right” Jay said. “This is actually quite nice” I said resting my head on his chest. “It really is” Jay said kissing my forehead.
Later..
“You good to drive” I said. “Yeah aren’t you cold here” Jay said putting his jacket on me. “So does this count as our first official date” I said. “Hmmm possibly” Jay said turning to face me. “So when is the second date” I said.
“Whenever you say yes” Jay said I smiled. “You know if your gonna kiss me you should probably do it” I said. He then pulled me into a kiss wrapping his arms around my waist. “Wooo” Kelly and Joe yelled fell behind. “They are like brothers I swear” I said laughing.
“It’s all good I get it” Jay said. “So back to the apartment then” I said. “Wanna grab ice cream” Jay said. “Jay it’s like 2am I have to work tomorrow” I said. “So no ice cream” Jay said. “What if I told you there’s some in the freezer” I said. “I’d say that this is our second date then” Jay said opening the door to his Jeep.
“Well then it’s our second date” I said kissing him. “Alright” Jay said.
Back at Jays apartment..
“Told you I got some” I said. “Guess you are full of surprises Elle” Jay said. “You have no idea” I said. “What why are you looking at me like that” I said. “I am thinking” Jay said setting his bowl down.
“What about” I said. “About you and us” Jay said. “I don’t know” I said. “I know what I want and I’ve known for a long time” Jay said. “Then what’s stopping you” I said.
“Nothing at all” Jay said I kissed him. “I want what you want” I said looking into his eyes. “Elena I want you everyday” Jay said.
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ssa-babygirl · 4 years
Text
Out of My League [Part 1]
Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader
Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)
Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)
Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV
Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby
[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]
You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.
He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.
“Hey, Spencer!”
His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.
“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”
“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”
“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”
“Oh! N-no charge.”
“Really?”
“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”
That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.
“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”
“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Great! Are you free after school today?”
He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.
~~~
You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.
“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”
“I’m so fucking stupid.”
“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”
“You don’t make mistakes like that.”
“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”
“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”
“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”
He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home. 
Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.
“Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”
“No, not yet at least.”
“How do you just… know that?”
Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”
That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.
“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”
“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.
The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal. 
You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.
You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.
“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”
“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”
You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.
“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”
“When does it end?”
“Five.”
“Library closes at four.”
“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”
You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.
“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”
“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”
Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence. 
After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.
“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.
“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.
You had to step in. You had to say something.
“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”
The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.
~~~
The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.
“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.
You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”
He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”
“Uh… to get food? Duh.”
“But what about your food at home?”
“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”
“You don’t have to get me anything.”
“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”
“It’s fine! Really.”
“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”
Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”
“Happy meal?”
He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”
“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”
Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”
You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.
After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly. 
“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”
“Her name is Orange Blossom.”
“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.
“Substitution.”
“Correct! Now balance it.”
Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.
“Please don’t make me.”
“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”
“What’s one wrong question, really?”
“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”
“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.
He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”
You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.
Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
~~~
When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?
“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”
“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”
“And I’m not like them?”
“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”
“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”
“You’re not! That came out wrong--”
“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”
“I don’t wanna baby you!”
“So stop it!”
You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”
He warmed up and agreed.
So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.
You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”
She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”
“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”
You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--
“Check the field.”
You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.
“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”
“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”
“How many were there? Who did this?”
“Y/N, please--”
“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it!”
You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”
You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.
“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”
“Don’t.”
“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”
“Y/N, please.”
“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”
“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”
You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.
After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”
“Yours. Please.”
You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.
“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.
“What time is it?”
“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”
He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.
The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.
When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.
“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”
“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”
“Mom, she’s a fr--”
“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.
A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”
“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”
You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.
~~~
Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.
“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”
“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.
“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”
“She was worried, I get it.”
“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”
You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”
“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”
“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.
“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”
“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”
“I’d love to. And Spence?”
You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t wanna scare you.”
“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”
“Really?”
“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”
Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”
Taglist ~~~~~~
(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)
@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly
390 notes · View notes
boop-le-snoot · 3 years
Text
PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 4
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Rating: Explicit.
‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Bullying and non-explicit violence in this chapter, Peter whump.
Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!
A/N: WE'VE GOT PLOT! Peter Parker deserves better. Steeb needs a vibe check cuz he keeps failing them :( Boomers are hot but ... Boomers. KitKat, anyone? Natasha is a Brain Cell™. Enjoy, deviants.
THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit​ @littlegasps​ @pilloclock​ @shereadsinquiet​ @hermione-grangers-wife​ @downeyreads​ @individualistfem​
Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings 👑 - titty gators assemble! 👀
I scheduled a visit to the tower two days after my "illness" episode. Most of my lows passed without any lingering, the headache was gone and so was the nausea. My mood was still somewhere between "please kill me" and "I could eat a lot of cake right now" but it was bearable. I was very much looking forward to occupying myself with the project if only to divert my focus from overthinking about my own misery.
Peter said he was going to see Tony straight after school and offered for me to tag along with him: Tony sent his driver to pick up the boy. I didn't have the heart to refuse, seeing no point in waiting for an Uber on a rainy workday afternoon. Traffic was horrendous in New York city no matter the weather but a downpour took the congestions to a new height.
When I spotted the sleek, black brand new Audi I made a beeline for it, waving to Happy as I crawled inside as fast as I could. "Don't get the seats wet," The chauffeur grumbled.
"It's wet outside," I rolled my eyes into the next dimension. Whoever thought his nickname was in any way appropriate needed a psych eval. Peter sat on my right side looking wet and downright miserable. I had to swallow a string of expletives at the sight in front of me: the entirety of Peter's right cheek was an ugly shade of blue, eye on it's way to swelling shut and lip busted open. "What in the everliving fuck happened to you?!" Breathing through my nose, I fought bubbling rage inside of me. Peter looked like he went toe to toe with a Hulk.
"Flash happened," The boy mumbled, whining and brooding simultaneously. His cheeks glowed.
"That little runt?" I took another pause to steady my breathing, tentatively reaching out for Peter's hand. He grasped it tightly in gratitude. "Well, did you at least fight back?"
"No, I... I can't do that," Peter became even smaller, curling into the seat and in himself. I was disappointed for sure as I wouldn't just stand there and take a beating, but Pete was different. He was sensitive-a total pacifist to boot.
"Do any of the teachers know? I'm guessing this isn't the first time," Sure, I've seen Parker with an occasional scrape or a bruise but I'd always figured it was just him being a teenage nuisance. Curtain of depression I had over the previous days slowly began morphing into cold fury.
"No, well, they probably do. But Flash is the principal's son so they ignore it, I guess," Peter sighed in defeat. "Mr. Stark doesn't know either. Please don't tell him," He begged.
"Abuse thrives in silence," I parroted our sex-ed teacher but otherwise made no promises. My mind raced between comforting Peter and ordering Happy to turn the car around so I could find the shitty excuse of a human named Flash Thompson and violently make it known what happens to people when they get me pissed off.
"What are you going to tell Tony?" I asked Peter as we herded into the elevator, slightly wet and mostly miserable.
"I have an idea or two," The boy answered darkly.
"You have been summoned to the common floor, I was instructed to notify you there is food to be eaten before sciencing, per Doctor Banner's orders," Friday announced, rerouting the elevator to the aforementioned destination. Peter groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands.
"What the fuck happened to you, kid?" Bucky decided screeching like a banshee and attracting at least five of his teammates to come running from the dining room was the best way to approach an obviously spooked Peter. The boy shuffled his feet awkwardly.
"Our classmate beat him up," I answered before Pete could lie. "The fucking runt that doesn't know his damn place. His two cronies probably too," The venom in my voice could've melted steel. I was genuinely furious.
"What's his name?" Captain-Steve growled. I was taken aback at the large blonde man suddenly standing up, fists clenched. My feet moved involuntarily, taking a step back from the enraged supersoldier and Pete cowered, startled.
I stepped in front of him immediately. "I'm gonna need you to chill the fuck down, Cap," The trembling in my voice persisted but I stood my ground nonetheless. "Your roid rage is going to land you in prison if you keep going," In my own rage, self-preservation went out of the window along with common sense. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, Peter was downright shaking behind me.
"She's right," Bucky darkly eyed his friend. "Off to the sparring mats with you." He grabbed Rogers by the shoulder with his prosthetic arm all but hauling the blonde towards the elevator. Thor immediately took the Captain's other side, not quite touching him but obviously giving his friend a vibe check. I could've clapped. Not that Steve resisted much, but still.
"Everyone calm down, please," The Black Widow piped up in an even tone. I can always count on a fellow woman to keep calm in a situation where men's tempers almost cause a disaster. "Now, tell us what happened," She approached Peter on quiet feet. The boy shuffled around me looking every bit as dejected as I felt about the situation. "And someone fetch some ice for that bruise," Romanoff's offhand gesture had Barton scrambling into the kitchen.
Peter sat down on the couch, looking at the floor. "Flash has been bothering me since, like, forever and today I just ignored his usual remarks because I had a calculus test, I- I wanted to make sure I knew everything, and I was sitting in a really quiet corner, and I- Ned was hanging out with MJ somewhere and I guess Flash got angry that I didn't answer," Peter rambled in his usual nervous fashion, sentences jumbling together. Natasha kept nodding, simply hugging the boy softly with one arm. As soon as Clint came back with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel Natasha's other arm pressed it gently to Peter's bruised face. The assassin frowned at the pained whine that left Peter's lips.
"Honestly, that dude is a fucking piece of shit, I'm surprised how he's not in jail yet," I piped up from where I was pacing along the large window overlooking the city skyline. Wound up and tense, I couldn't stay still. "He stole a senior's car for a joyride, last year. He routinely picks on the freshmen and I've personally dislocated his wrist from slapping me on the ass in, like, eight grade," Peter's eyebrows raised at my admission and Natasha gave me a vaguely approving hum.
I caught Peter's eye the moment elevator doors opened revealing a panicked looking Tony and a worried Bruce with Loki standing behind them, talking to a man in... Robes? And a red cape?
"What happened to my science child?!" Tony's fury rang high. The engineer rushed over to Peter, frantically checking him over and growling at the state of his face, letting out a string of expletives seeing the busted lip had started to bleed again.
I gave a tiny tilt of my lips to Bruce who had the oddest compilation of worried, confused and amused in his expression.
"You should probably get him to a doctor, I think his mouth is cut on the inside," I scooted closer to Banner, informing him quietly.
"I'm a doctor," The man in the cape announced, ... strutting (!) over to Pete. There was really no other way to describe his long, precise strides. He quickly butted Tony out of the way and instructed Peter to open his mouth.
"This is utter chaos," Loki muttered, sitting down on the furthest end of the couch.
"It is and I'm living for it," I sighed. The situation was very disorganized with Tony flailing about in blind panic, Bruce just standing there, Cap's rage quit and subsequent intervention by his buddies. Then the new strange dude... Loki was brooding and honestly? Big mood. The only person who made some resemblance of order out if this cluster fuck was Natasha.
All and all, it was quite endearing. I imagined that's what a large, close family would look like. When I said I was enjoying myself - no lie there, even despite the grim situation.
"How are you? Are you hurt?" Bruce quietly asked me, laced with concern. His shoulders relaxed somewhat when I shook my head negative. "Hungry?" I nodded affirmatively and the doctor produced a kit kat bar seemingly out of nowhere, winking at me with a boyish smile. I just about melted on the spot, tearing off a block and giving it to him to avoid any embarrassing reactions I might possibly spout in the wake of my recently acquired crush.
We munched in silence as the Cape Guy explained to Peter (and anxious Tony) that a few butterfly stitches would be needed as well as CT scan to rule out a possible concussion. At that point Tony was steadily turning purple in colour, rage and anxiety combining for a large storm that no doubt will hit sooner or later.
I felt responsible, I guess. Peter must've known Tony was going to react so strongly to his science son getting hurt and well, I hated seeing Tony so mad and helpless. On soft feet, I padded over to the engineer, making sure to stay within direct line of vision. "Tones?" He shot his eyes at me. He was furious. "Look, I'm going to make that fucker's life a living hell," Tony made an agitated noise of protest however I wasn't having it. I knew I'd be in trouble later but for now, I firmly placed my palm over his mouth, enjoying the surprised widening of his eyes at the frivolous gesture. "Listen, right now you can't do shit. You guys are super-powered individuals and Flash is just a nasty kid. You'll get in a big fat mess and he'll get to go away with a slap on the wrist," Tony sagged, visibly, bodily, and I felt it was safe to remove my hand from his face.
"I hate to say it but she's right," Bruce piped up behind me, voice soft.
I nodded. "I'm going to ruin the guy without putting a single finger on him," Tony nodded grimly and Cape Guy halted his examination of Peter's head to give me a mildly concerned stare. "My mother is a litigator, a vicious one at that. I've learned a trick or two," I winked with a grim sort of amusement causing the man to snort. Tony chuckled humorlessly. "As much as I hate to be the voice of reason, it would be a shame for anybody in this tower to end up behind bars. Even if it would be for a good cause," I finished my speech, patting Tony on the shoulder. The surprised squeak made its way out of my mouth when the billionaire pulled me tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a desperate hug.
Ignoring my skyrocketing heartbeat, I wrapped myself around him as best as I could. Whatever issues the man had, they had to be quite painful if he reacted to the situation so intensely. I was selfish, but not heartless, so I gave into the affectionate gesture despite the inappropriate feelings that blossomed within me.
"I don't know what I've done to deserve you," Peter whined, fat round tears beginning to drip down his cheeks. I could tell he was embarrassed beyond Hell but his feelings overwhelmed him enough to just spill through. I immediately made my meanest big eyes to Natasha and Cape Guy who immediately hugged the life out of Pete. There, all set.
"Now go get that scan done," I frowned, seeing Peter start to nod off. "I don't know your name, but can you arrange that? Since you're a doctor," I nodded to the Cape Guy.
"I'm Stephen Strange," he replied, effortlessly picking up a dozing Peter and carrying him to the elevator. Before I could react, he waved his one free hand in some sort of a circle and a glowing ring appeared with what seemed to be a ER room - Strange hastily stepped through, followed by Tony suddenly withdrawing and hurrying after the ... Wizard? The portal closed immediately after.
"What the fuuuuuck..." I gaped at the now empty space. Strange, indeed. Even Loki's scoff didn't put a dent in my perplexed curiosity.
"So, lawyer family, huh?" Natasha, who I'd forgotten about, spoke up, mildly interested.
"Just my mother," I replied casually. They were the last thing in the world I wanted to talk about, especially after being so upset for the past hour. Man, I needed a drink. My hands itched for a cigarette.
"What about your father?" The spy didn't relent, pushing the issue with deadly politeness - I was actually sure she'd threaten me into talking about it even if I refused to.
"He's a celebrity manager."
"Cool," Her tone perked up at that. "Know anyone famous?"
"Know? No," I thought about all the A-list Hollywood stars I've been around, the endless parade of one-hit-wonder musicians that my dad hung out with on a daily basis. "I've crossed paths with at least half the Billboard TOP 40 but that's about it. Katy Perry was really nice," I added as an afterthought.
"I see," Natasha gave me a thoughtful once-over, patting the seat next to her. "So tell me, what do you have in mind for this Flash kid?"
My smile came out sharp and vicious. People tended to underestimate the quiet, quirky loner and I was about to remind them exactly why my kind of kids usually ended up with either millions in their bank accounts or a lengthy criminal record. "I'm going to annihilate any chance he has with having a social life, a girlfriend and I'll be damned if he gets into college without his parents going bankrupt. It goes like this..."
The ominous beginning of my plan attracted everybody in the room, even Loki. If anything, he offered the most constructive advice and the smirk he wore was positively devilish. Steve, Bucky and Thor emerged sometime during the scheming and hastily joined us, identically grim expressions on their faces. We barely managed to get done with our nefarious cackling when a portal appeared once again, Stephen stepping out of it with Tony carrying a sleeping Peter. The boy's head was bandaged, he looked like a mummy.
I stood up, beelining for Tony. "Is Pete okay? Did you call May?"
"He's not concussed but he's taking the day off tomorrow. Yes, I called May. Pete is staying here tonight," Tony looked and sounded like an exhausted, worried parent.
The urge to squee appeared again and I stomped it down with a hard "Good. We made a plan. The fucker is going to choke on his own misery," I gestured to the people sitting in a circle behind me.
Strange snorted.
Furious. I was furious.
Hands on my hips, I swerved towards him, instantly recognizing the ridiculousness of the situation. Here I stood, an eighteen year old high school student, in my fluffy rainbow sweater and denim overalls, staring down a whole grown ass man with magic powers. I digress, my pride won the race against my common sense. "Ex-fucking-cuse you, Voldemort, that's my fucking friend on the line," I seethed, giving him my best death glare.
"Language," Tony barely held together his laughter, looking at the unfolding mess with amusement. Somewhere behind me, somebody chuckled, then I recognised Loki's signature "ehehe" and it kind of went downhill from there. It's a miracle Peter didn't wake up.
"I'd be careful, Strange, she holds up against Stark very well," Loki's quiet compliment only made me preen and puff out my chest in a display of dominance. Stephen's responding eye roll was more fond than annoyed. I counted it as a win.
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illfoandillfie · 3 years
Text
5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Ben’s POV
5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST
Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader
Summery: 14 scenes told from Ben's Perspective.
Warnings: A whole lotta angst and badly handled feelings. swearing, drinking, a little bit of smut/masturbation (18+) basically everything from the other chapters but from Ben’s side lmao
Words: 22 790 (oh god im sorry, but all the sections are separated so you don’t have to read it in one hit!)
A/N: I know it's like super duper late but here is the final chapter of this series that I promised! Basically just a collection of blurbs (maybe a few oneshot length parts too) that tell the story from the other side. Some are his point of view of things that occurred in the main chapters, some fill in gaps that reader wasn't around for. 
I had a lot of fun writing from a perspective I don't normally write from! It was a bit of a challenge at times but definitely something I'd like to do again.
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Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies
@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @friccinfricks​ 
“Pick up Joe, pick up,” Ben mumbled to himself, pacing around his trailer. The phone rang out and he let out a grunt of annoyance as he switched to text message.
I fucked up. Call me.
It was an anxious ten-minute wait in which Ben found it hard to sit still or focus on anything other than what a colossal mistake he’d made. He tried to go over his lines instead, tried to focus on the next scene you’d be filming together but all he could think about was you. You and how badly he’d fucked up. Finally Joe put him out of his misery. “Thank Christ,” “Sorry I was asleep,” a yawning Joe said from the other end of the line, “What happened that you needed to contact me at 6am?” “I said yes,” “To?” “Joe, I know it’s early for you but please try to keep up. I said yes.” There was a pause as Joe tried to work out what Ben meant and then realisation dawned, “Nooooo,” “Yes. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Oh my god,” Joe groaned, sympathetic, “You said yes? To the fake dating schtick?” “I wasn’t going to,” “I should fucking hope not. After everything we talked about yesterday? After we agreed it was a horrible idea?” “I know! I know,” Ben had to pause to gulp in a breath, his chest suddenly feeling too tight to handle the oxygen, “I was going to say no. I came in with a plan to say no and it was on the tip of my tongue for the entire meeting. They were going through these pages explaining it all and all of the rules we’d have to follow and I was ready to say no, I was going to say no,” “So what happened?” Ben flopped down onto his couch, the one he liked to nap on when time allowed, running his hand through his hair as he spoke, “I looked over at her and my mind clouded over and I said yes,” “Did she ask you to?” “Nope. I think she knew what I was thinking through the whole thing, she seemed shocked when I agreed to it. Fuck, why did I say yes?” “Cause you’re a fucking idiot.” “You can say that again,” “I could but I won’t.” Joe exhaled slowly into the receiver, “Jesus man,” “Yup. You wanna know the worst part though?” “Agreeing to it wasn’t the worst part?” “I’m not totally disappointed,” “Ben,” Joe sounded mildly horrified so Ben hurried to explain. “I mean, I know it’s bad. I know there were a thousand ways to better handle it...sticking to the plan and asking her out after we wrapped being the least of them. But...I have date ideas picked out already. There’s this wine and art place she’d love and the ice-skating rink and I’d love to take her to that Chinese restaurant near me. And I’m kind of happy I have an excuse to look at her now, touch her. I don’t have to worry about if she’s caught me staring or if I’m doing a bad job of hiding my feelings because everyone’s going to think we’re dating anyway so what’s the fucking harm,” “Alright Ben, I’m gonna stop you there. You need to get this shit under control. I suggest going to a bar, getting drunk, and getting into the pants of the first girl who talks to you.” “Can’t,” “Oh don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not so hung up on this Y/N chick that you can’t think about sleeping with someone else, are you?” “Doesn’t matter, I literally can’t unless I want everyone to think I’m cheating on her. Don’t think that’d go down well with the studio or anyone else really. They’d crucify me for fucking up the plan after less than a day.” “Would you have followed my advice even if that wasn’t the case?” Ben mad a non-committal noise, “Probably not. I just want her,” “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend? I distinctly remember you whining about a boyfriend.” “Apparently it was never that serious. He was boring.” “You’re boring too Ben. Hate to break it to you but you’re dull, unexciting, tedious. She’s not going to want to date you either. Might as well give up now,” “Have you got a thesaurus sitting in your lap?” Joe laughed despite himself, “I thought this was going to be a crush Ben. Short lived.” “Me too. It’s not though. I can’t get her out of my mind. When I’m with her I don’t want to leave and then when I have to leave all I can think about is when I’ll next see her. She’s so wonderful and beautiful and kind-hearted. She likes pulling faces at me from behind the camera and she’s got the cutest laugh…When she’s nervous about a scene she bounces her leg. Every time. And she’s so sweet to everyone on set, always chatting with whoever is around and making jokes and stuff. I want to make her laugh. I want to calm her when she’s nervous. I want her.” “Maybe you should just tell her how you feel now. I know you wanted to wait until after the movie but I think that horse has bolted,” “I can’t tell her now, are you insane? If I tell her now she’ll call up her agent and cancel the whole fake dating thing and she’ll never want to see me again,” “Maybe she wants to date you too,” “Nope. She literally said to me she wouldn’t date me in real life,” Ben paused, thinking, “d’you reckon there’s a chance she might fall for me too? Like, with the whole pretending to date thing? Maybe I could convince her I’d be a good boyfriend,” “Don’t get your hopes up Ben,” “You’re right. She’s not going to change her mind about me. We’re friends and that’s it. And I’ve just gotta focus on finishing this movie and getting through the whole relationship without her figuring anything out.” “I don’t envy you, buddy.”
                                                       ***
It took Ben a few moments of lying in the dark to remember why he felt so nervous first thing in the morning. But the waiting message from Peter about what time the photographer would arrive was enough to remind him. He lay there a little longer, trying to prepare himself for everything, trying to convince himself that seeing you first thing in the morning would be enough of a turn off to stop him from feeling the way you made him feel. It didn’t work, the convincing or the seeing you. If anything, seeing you yawning as you left his spare room just made it all the worse. You, in his pyjamas. It made his stomach flip. He found it hard to pull his eyes from you as you drank your coffee, found it hard to not enjoy the sight of you in his pyjamas in his kitchen. You’d never been there before but you didn’t feel out of place. He could imagine other mornings, making pancakes together, you with a spot of batter on your nose that he’d wipe away and replace with a kiss, or else making you the first tea or coffee of the day and bringing it to you in bed, snuggling under the covers with you, your head resting on his chest as you talked quietly about whatever was happening that day. But planning out how you’d look for the camera was a sharp reminder that it wasn’t real, that you were only there because of work.
“And, um, he was very careful in how he worded it, but they want us to look like we fucked. Also I told them I’d take you home so there may be someone waiting for us there too, he never got back to me on it.” “Shit, okay. Umm, guess I’ll just wear this then?” he watched as you indicated the pyjamas you’d borrowed, his pyjamas, “might lose the pants though, help sell it a bit more.” “Yeah, guess so,” Ben had to clear his throat and avert his eyes, terrified that you’d be able to see what he was thinking, willing himself to stop thinking about helping you out of them. “What time is it?” He glanced at the oven, thankful to have even the smallest of diversions, “Twenty past eight,” “God I haven’t been up this early on a weekend in months.” “Not one for farmers markets or anything then?” This was a better topic. Boring, safe. “Not really. Much prefer lying in bed doing nothing.” Shit, “Me too,” he laughed, trying not to imagine you in his bed in just his shirt (fuck the pants they were too big for you anyway). “We’re meant for each other,” Ben took another sip of coffee to keep from groaning. You had no idea what you were doing to him and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell you. Not now at any rate. He’d killed any chance of anything happening when he’d agreed to this stunt and now he had to suck it up and deal with it. “Did you want to have a shower or anything?” “Nah, you can if you want though,” “Might as well wait until I get home. But I am gonna clean my teeth, especially if we have to kiss.” Jesus, the kiss, he’d almost forgotten about that, “Maybe mess up your hair too, make it look like you didn’t sleep much.” This is dangerous territory. “Well how could I when you’re such a good lover,” Oh god oh god oh god, “I know you’re joking but if anyone asks, I’m incredible. You came like three times,” “Did I now?” “Of course,” “Good thing no one’s gonna ask then, don’t think I’m great at lying,” Ben wanted to stop, wanted to switch back to talking about farmers markets and breakfast options but he didn’t seem to have control over himself anymore, “Besides, it’s not really a lie, I am that good. You just haven’t experienced it personally.” You poked your tongue out at him as you turned back towards the bathroom. As soon as he heard the door shut Ben collapsed forward against the kitchen counter, leaning on his palms as he grappled with what had just happened. He’d need to keep his wits about him from now on. Flirting like that couldn’t happen again, he’d been lucky that you'd treated it like friendly banter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the voice that suggested you’re lack of awareness was proof of how disinterested you were. It was only when he heard the bathroom door swing open again that he forced himself to move.
“How do I look?” you asked as you re-entered the room. Can’t avoid looking at her now, she wants your opinion, “Gorgeous.” It was true. Everything you’d done to make yourself look like you’d had a late night just made you even more desirable. The messed up hair, the smudge of makeup around your eyes. He gulped when he noticed the undone buttons of the flannel shirt, just enough to tease, and the missing pants. Tell her you want to pin her to the wall and undo the rest of those buttons. Tell her you want to wake up to that sight every morning. “But do I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked?” “Oh, right, ummm,” he gave you another cursory look, trying not to linger on any part of you for too long, “yes, I think so,” “I feel like there’s something missing,” suddenly you turned on your heel and stepped back towards the bathroom. Ben waited where you’d left him until, “Oh! I know. Might be taking it a bit far though.” Clearly he was supposed to be part of this conversation, so he followed you to the doorway, stepped just over the threshold, “What is it?” You were scrutinising your appearance in the mirror and he let himself watch your reflection, “what if you gave me a hickey?” Ben’s breath caught in his throat though he managed to stutter out your name. “Yeah, I know, that’s a weird thing to ask. Don’t worry, I think we’ll be fine without it,” He inhaled deeply wondering if your backtracking was a sign that you’d worked out what was going on in his head. He couldn’t let that happen. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to give you a love bite, though he’d prefer to be covering you in them. Slowly, he let the breath go again, “no, you’re right. A hickey will definitely make it look more authentic,”
“It’s not totally inappropriate for me to ask?” Babe this whole thing is inappropriate, “No, no, we have to make it look legit. Here, I’ll uhhh,” With another, less than steady, breath, he stepped behind you, close enough that you were practically leaning against him. His heart began to beat faster, his stomach did summersaults. Carefully he wrapped his arm around your waist to steady himself, pull you closer, as he pushed your hair to the side. He glanced at your reflection, waiting for you to stop him, to notice his shaky fingers and burning skin and to jump away from him. But you didn’t. You let him lean in, let him press his lips to your neck, let him mark you. He felt your own breath speed up, felt you tilt your head, inviting more. And then. It was only a small hum, but it had definitely come from you. He glanced at the mirror again, saw you had your eyes shut. You liked it. He was giving you a hickey and you were enjoying it. This might be his only chance to do that, to make you feel that way. He refocused on your neck, where his lips met your skin, soothing the fresh brand with his tongue. He could happily have given you ten more, was tempted to go in for a second at least. Instead he let you go, stepped backwards as quickly as he could manage. If he waited too long he’d end up saying something he’d regret. “Will that do?” “It’s great Ben really ties the whole look together,” He tried to match your smile though it felt like there was a warning siren going off in his head, “Good. Good. Okay then, I’ll umm, what time is it?” “Just after nine. Wonder if the photographer is here yet,” “I think I will jump in for that shower actually, by the time I’m done he will definitely be here,” he needed some time to compose himself before he even thought about stepping outside the door with you, “Make yourself comfortable though, watch some TV or something.” “Alright. Thanks for being so cool about all this. I know you’re a little sceptical about the benefits and everything.” “It’s fine Y/N, no need for any of that,” he forced another smile as you left but the moment you’d pulled the door shut it slipped again. Slowly he made his way to the tap, splashed his face with cold water. His fingers still tingled where they’d rested against you. The echo of your hum was stuck in his head. Your perfume still lingered in the air. “Fuck,” Ben directed the curse at his reflection, unsure any other word could sum up better than that. The fact that you didn’t want him was fucked, having you here looking the part of the perfect girlfriend was fucked, giving you a hickey for the performance was fucked. And the fact that he was sporting a semi from it was really just the cherry on top of his totally fucked sundae. He couldn’t go back out to you in such a state, especially not when you were going to have to make out for the camera. A shower to relieve himself was the only answer, though he felt bad about you being only a couple of rooms over.
With a final prayer that you wouldn’t overhear or work out why he’d changed his mind about the shower, he turned the taps on and began undressing, wincing a little as he stuck his arm under the scalding hot water. With some adjustment he was able to fully step into the shower, pausing for a moment to relax under the steady beat of the water before reaching for the soap. Of course, you were on his mind as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly started stroking himself. The way you looked in his shirt, the swell of your breasts just barely exposed, tantalisingly so. The hem of the shirt draped over your bare thighs. You’d make such a sight dressed like that, lying in his bed, the sheets tangled around your legs. Better still his legs tangled between yours. He thought of the hum you made as he’d sucked at your throat. On the verge of a whine, maybe even a moan. Would you whine if his lips were on your chest instead? What about your thighs, leaving a trail up to… His breathing was faster now, hand moving at a similar speed. We’re made for each other. Your voice, your words. You’d say it, half pant it, while he was inside you. Made for each other. And you’d hum that hum of pleasure. Your thighs, under his shirt. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he pulled your hair aside. What if you gave me a hickey?  The warmth of your body leaning against his, such a contrast to the cool bathroom tiles. That hum. Those thighs. The way you say his name. Made for each other. Your lingering perfume. Your lingering warmth. Your lingering hum. His name on your tongue. He bit his lip to keep from making any sound as he came onto the floor of the shower. It took Ben a few moments to right his breathing, eyes pressed shut so he could hold onto the fantasy for just a little longer. But he knew he didn’t have the time. At least you get to kiss her again. He rushed through washing his hair, scrubbing himself clean. As he stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and swiped his palm over the fogged-up mirror. He forced himself to smile, tried to make it seem natural but that just made it feel more fake. Maybe you wouldn’t notice. With a final exhale he left the bathroom, heading towards his bedroom to find some clean clothes. Your laugh cut through the mostly quiet house. Something on the tv, a cartoon by the sounds of it, had made you laugh and Ben couldn’t help but smile for real at the sound. It made it all seem worth it. 
                                                      ***
It had been a bit of an odd week. Everyone at work knew about the relationship and Ben had found himself set upon by well meaning set dressers and ADs who were curious to know when it had started and how they’d kept it such a secret because “seriously Ben, no one suspected anything.” That was nothing to his friends though, who were shocked he’d never brought it up even in passing and who demanded to know when they could meet this secret girlfriend of his. “Someone’s gotta tell her about the time you pissed your pants at the fair,” “I was seven and had drunk a lot of coke,” “Excuses, excuses. What’s your excuse for never mentioning her before?” “I thought we were going to play FIFA, not talk about my love life,” “We were but that was before we all saw your girlfriend’s arse online,” “You can’t see her arse in that shot,” “Near enough. And we can definitely see the giant fucking hickey on her neck. Now explain yourself,” “Alright mum,” Ben shook his head, “I mean, you know I don’t normally date people I work with. Neither does she. We both wanted to give our selves some time to see if it worked, to make sure what we thought we were feeling was legit and not on screen emotions carrying over or anything like that.” “Well it looks legit judging by photos,” “Shut up,” Ben sighed, rolling his eyes, “I actually really like her,” “Hey, I have a question. When the fuck have you been seeing this chick? Because your down time is spent with us.” “Oh, umm, y’know, after work and stuff. I don’t spend all of my time with you guys,” “Uhhh beg to disagree,” Ben tried to keep his tone normal though his heart was racing. If they figured it out now it could all be over, “Fuck off I have a life outside of you. And just because I was hanging with you guys in the evening doesn’t mean I didn’t see her earlier in the day.” “Nooners?” “Lunch dates.” “Uh huh. Okay, lunch dates. She’s a good shag though, right?” “Oh yeah, fucking….great shag,” “You gotta give us more than that mate,” “Sure, okay, but first can one of you kill me,” “Boooooo,” Ben laughed as he was pelted with crisps, “I’m so going to kick all your arses, now hand me a controller.”
The week had also brought him a copy of your rules. He’d taped the sheet to the bottom of his sock draw where no one else was likely to see it but he could still have a daily reminder that none of it was real. Being around you made it easy to forget you weren’t actually his girlfriend, the lines between friendly banter and flirty teasing becoming too blurred. Of course, he also had Joe reminding him to keep his head straight. He’d called after he saw the morning-after photos. The conversation had started with Joe calling Ben a moron but quickly shifted into Ben ranting for close to an hour because he’d, that morning, heard all about the conversation with Felicity and how you’d spent so long talking up his prowess. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream. “Is this some kind of punishment? Did I do something completely fucked up in a past life and now I’m paying for it?” “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a lesson on why you don’t agree to something because a pretty girl smiles at you.” “Oh bugger off, you’re absolutely no help,” “Well what do you want me to do?” “I don’t know.” “I could talk to her for you.” “Mate, that’s you’re worst idea yet.” “When’s the date?” “This Saturday.” “Just keep reminding yourself you’re there as friends. Don’t get sucked in by the act.” “I’m trying.” Easier said than done, especially when he’d had the date planned for a solid few months. Not officially of course, but in the back of his head. You and him and a bottle of wine as you sat close together and painted. When he imagined the date you wore a sun dress and decorated your canvas or plate, or whatever it was he pictured that time, with little hearts and lipstick kisses. He’d make you laugh with some kind of joke and you’d lean your forehead on his shoulder. Everyone else would melt away as you looked up at him, still smiling. And you’d say something about how you should have realised you loved him sooner. “Because I do, Ben, I love you,” Which is when he’d kiss you, softly.
Ben shook his head to clear it, focusing back on the script in his hand, though you’d soon distracted him again. The real you, not the fantasy date one. The one who was bouncing her knee and staring off into space. He gently touched your shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” “Huh?” “You’re jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?” “Oh, nothing,” He didn’t believe you, “Is it about our date tonight?” “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?” What a blessing that would be. I might actually be able to get over you. I could stop imaging you in my bed, “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” “What?” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that last bit out loud, “I’ve been worried about it too.” You nodded, your leg twitching as if gearing up to bounce again. “But I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?” “Yeah I was, but-” “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake,” Ben didn’t necessarily believe it himself, or at least not for himself. He was going to struggle. But you didn’t have any underlying feelings to fight. For you it really was just a good time painting, “they’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple,” “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” “It’s okay,” before he could stop himself he’d reached for your hand, rubbing the back of it. He wanted to do more, to hold you tight and tell you it would be okay. But that would be too much. Instead he rubbed your hand and tried to distract you, “I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.” “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?” “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?” “Theres like six, Ben,” “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,” You laughed. It was the best sound in the world and he was determined to make sure he heard it again on your date.
It took Ben an hour to decide on an outfit. He’d had one set aside but looking at it in the mirror it felt too dressy, he needed something more casual. He paused for a calming smoke and then had to brush his teeth again. On set he chewed gum after a smoke, especially if there were kissing scenes, out of politeness more than anything. But the small part of him that hoped you were treating the date as an audition for the roll of real-life boyfriend worried that it would hurt his chances if he tasted like cigarettes. Assuming you’d kiss. So he brushed his teeth again and changed into an outfit he didn’t hate and then worried that he was overthinking it and should have gone with his first outfit, and needed another smoke. Which meant he had to brush his teeth a third time. It took all his willpower to not ask the uber to pull over so he could have another quick puff. But then he was at your place and you were there and he wasn’t panicking anymore. Maybe it was because you looked jittery and nervous and something in his brain overrode his own anxiety to ease yours, or maybe you just had that effect on him. Whatever the reason it meant he could focus on helping you relax. “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” He was nearly positive you hadn’t eaten yet, too anxious. “Uhh, s’pose so,” “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?” “I swear I’m not normally.” “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” Ben inwardly groaned. When the fuck did snookum become a thing? Why won’t you stop me Y/N? Please god stop me from flirting with you!  It was a relief when he made it to the McDonalds without any more slip ups and he could focus on his food and encouraging you to eat yours. He felt things were going well as you walked hand in hand through the bottle shop. He’d squeeze your hand if he felt you tensing up, make you laugh again, distract you. But then you had nudged him and pointed out the photographer. “Relax, he’s not important,” he said softly, pulling you into his side, trying to keep his own breathing even. Your face had paled at the sight of the camera, and Ben was hit by an overwhelming urge to protect you. He kept you as close as he could, soothed you as best he could. It became easier once you’d reached the shop and could get lost among the other couples and groups of friends, though he caught you checking for the photographer through the glass of the shop front. Ben hesitated for half a second before he turned your head towards him, “Forget the photographer Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We’re just two friends having a fun night out, okay?” This wasn’t the carefree date he’d been fantasising about for months. But he held out hope it still could be. If only he could make you see it. He opened the wine, talked about the art options, anything to distract you from the world outside of the shop. You took a little to warm up but he was glad to see you looking around the room as he went to collect your blank ceramics, taking everything in, and soon enough you were both contemplating designs for mugs, the photographer and the reason for the date seemingly forgotten.
Ben’s hope grew with each passing minute. The longer you were there, the more at ease you became. He got to hear your laugh again, frequently. And the conversation flowed naturally as each of you concentrated on your artwork. The design came to him quickly and he went slow, trying to make his lines as straight as possible and trying to make the engagement ring look like the one you’d spent so much of the shoot wearing. We’re really good at this dating thing. Part encouragement to help when you got nervous, part wishful thinking perhaps. But it was a quote from the movie so you wouldn’t read too far into it. He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to the mug and, as soon as he was done, announced it. “Alright, show me then,” Ben watched closely as you examined the still wet design, chewing on his lip as he tried not to care if you cared that the lines weren’t totally straight or the colours didn’t work. But as soon as you realised what the quote was you smiled. He found himself grinning as you told him how much you loved it. “Thought it was kind of fitting. Plus, it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.” “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had,” Ben turned the mug back towards himself, double checking for any flaws. He wanted it to be perfect for you, “Best proposal I’ve ever given.” He was on the verge of adding, “My real one will be better though,” but stopped himself short. That would lead to a topic of conversation he didn’t want to deal with. Not with you. Not now. He was a little surprised as you leaned in close and lowered your voice. “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?” “Promise,” he said leaning closer as well. From the outside you must look like a proper couple, whispering sweet nothings as you ignored the rest of the room. His eyes darted to your lips. Kiss her. He could, couldn’t he? He could get away with it. That was what you were there for, to be a couple, to have photos taken of intimate moments. No one would question it if he just closed the gap, not even you. But he hesitated too long, the shriek of laughter from another table interrupting the moment. He leaned back in his seat, trying to put some distance between you before he lost his head again, “So do I get to see mine?”
Ben was nearly speechless when you did eventually let him see it. The guitar with the lyrics beside it. He couldn’t have stopped from smiling even if he’d wanted to. “And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?” “It is? It’s just the song I overheard you playing that one time.” That one time. A few weeks previous. Between scenes, as he’d waited for the cameras to be organised around the new set. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear him, least of all you. But he’d been starting to feel tense and wanted to unwind before filming resumed so he’d gone back to his trailer and taken out his guitar. It was a song he’d always liked but he’d been listening to it more often since meeting you and it was the song his fingers had begun to play without him realising. Now here it was, on the mug you’d painted for him. And you had no idea that when he sang about the stun gun lullaby, he was singing about your laugh, or that you so completely had his attention that no other woman could compare. The song might have been written for someone else but whenever he heard it, it was you being sung about. Was that a sign to not give up hope? His heart ached with how much he wished you loved him the same. Fuck, love? He’d never let himself think the L word before, that was serious shit. But it fit. He was hopelessly in love with you and there didn’t seem like there was much he could do to change the situation.
                                                      ***
Ben looked up from his laptop to see you, brows furrowed, digging through your bag. “Something wrong?” he asked as you pulled your lips between your teeth, worrying at it absentmindedly, in what he had to admit was an adorable fashion. “Uhh, I think I need to go home,” “How come? If you forgot something I have a replacement here. What was it sunnies? Chapstick? A book?” “No, it’s not that sort of-” “Then what? You already have a toothbrush and PJs here,” “No it’s something else... I just think I’d be more comfortable at home today,” Ben tried to keep his voice steady but his mind was whirring with the possible reasons for your sudden wish to leave. Did you know about his secret? “Well a-are you sure I can’t help. We’re meant to be seen together this afternoon and if we leave now they won’t be able to get a shot of us smooching,” You chuckled at his word choice and he found it hard to repress his smile. “I’ll apologise to Mary and Peter, tell them something came up and see if we can reschedule,” “Are you positive there isn’t anything I can do?” You shook your head slightly, “if you really must know my period is a little early and I don’t have any tampons on me. Happy?” “Oh,” he began to laugh at your slight embarrassment, more relieved than embarrassed himself, “is that all?  Y/N, you’re not the first girlfriend I’ve had, fake or not. I’m a 29 year old man I can deal with talking about periods, and I can certainly run to the shop for you,” “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that. I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today,” ““Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” You didn’t look convinced, eyeing the doorway to the hall. “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.” You hesitated a moment longer, “oh alright, as long as you don’t mind,”
It took Ben two minutes to collect his shoes and wallet and car keys and then he was out the door, assuring you he’d be as quick as possible. On his way out he saw the photographer, getting into position by his front gate. He shot Ben a questioning look at the detour from the set plan as Ben hopped into his car. As he reversed out of the driveway he caught the photographer’s attention. “Making a run to the shop to pick up something for Y/N. Might be a good photo in it,” Ben felt odd talking to the man – a man who he recognised well enough, who had witnessed every intimate moment he’d shared with you (and who had been the catalyst for a number of them), but a man he knew next to nothing about. But he hoped that by leading the photographer away he was ensuring you’d have a peaceful respite from the constant intrusion of knowing you were being watched. The photographer nodded, replaced the lens on his camera and headed to his own car, following Ben to the closest supermarket. The distraction of communicating with the photographer was almost enough to make Ben stop kicking himself for not being more prepared for this eventuality. It was only once he was at the store, standing in front of a shelf of feminine hygiene products that he was truly side-tracked from his lack of foresight, and realised he had no idea what you wanted. You picked up your mobile on the third ring. “Hey, it’s Ben, what do you want?” “Don’t tell me you forgot already,” “No, I mean, what sort. There’s hundreds of boxes to choose from, I have no idea which brand you like or what, um…strength you need.” “Oh,” you laughed and described what your go to brand’s packaging looked like. He scoured the shelves, trying to block out the snap of a phone camera as the photographer got his shot. “Ah, got it,” he said as he finally located the right one, pulling down a box for you now and one to keep in his bathroom for future use, “see you in a few.” “Thanks Ben,” “It’s nothing,” he refrained from closing the call with a love you, instead just saying, “Part of the boyfriend package.” On his way back towards the register he detoured into the tea and coffee isle, picking out a box of herbal tea bags that said For Women on the box, hoping they’d sooth whatever cramps you were dealing with, and then grabbed a box of chocolates in case you wanted something sweet to snack on. The photographer was outside already, waiting to get a shot of him leaving with a full bag. 
It made Ben’s heart swell to see how grateful you were for his haul. He went to the kitchen to make you a tea and himself a coffee as you ducked into the bathroom. “Did you find the Panadol?” he asked, rattling the box of painkillers as you joined him in the lounge. “Yeah, thanks. I took two but I might need more in a few hours, if I’m still here. I’ll buy you a new box if I use too many,” “Don’t be daft. How are you feeling?” “Yeah fine. A few cramps but it’s nothing.” “Do you want a cuddle?” he asked without thinking. “What?” Ben shrugged, “I don’t know, my ex said that cuddling up with me made her feel better. But that’s a different- she probably said it so she had an excuse to make out a bit,” You laughed, “a cuddle would actually be very welcome right now,” “Oh, well in that case,” Ben shuffled over, patting the space beside him, and tried to remember that you weren’t really dating. But he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you tight against him and breathing deeply.
                                                      ***
Ben wasn’t drunk. Not properly so anyway. He was too much of a chatty drunk to trust himself when he was sloshed. He’d had enough to loosen up and to dull the ache he felt whenever he looked at you. And to leave his keys at the bar. Nothing a glass of water and some TV couldn’t fix. He’d lost himself in the show when his phone dinged, nearly jumping at the unexpected noise. It was a text from Joe.
WTF?
It took Ben a few seconds to work out what it referred to but then the afternoon came back to him, the last scene you’d filmed, the photo he’d posted. Shit. “Ah, shit. Forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep?” he cast around for a reasonable excuse, “We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.” “Sure,” you said, already pressing buttons on the remote. “I promise I won’t be long,” “Take your time, it’s fine.” Ben smiled though it slipped as he left the room and pulled up Joe’s number. He shut the door of the room he used when he stayed over, already sure this would not be a conversation he’d want you to overhear. “What the fuck is that photo Ben?” “It’s nothing,” he sighed, “just the last day of filming,” “Are you alright, you sound weird?” “We went out for a drink.” “You and Y/N?” “And the rest of the cast and crew. And, before you say anything, no I didn’t get so drunk I blabbed about anything. I do have some self control,” “I wasn’t saying anything,” “No but you were thinking it. Anyway, I think I’m allowed to have a few drinks under the circumstances. Not exactly easy being secretly in love with your co-star who you’re also fakely dating,” “Alright, alright, point made. But that doesn’t explain the photo,” “Like I said, last day of filming,” Joe waited for more and begrudgingly Ben continued. “It was our last scene together and I wanted to commemorate it,” “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.” “Y/N said it was a bit cheesy,” “Uhh yeah, little bit,” Joe laughed, “you’re not worried it was a bad idea?” “No. We got told to post stuff, which you already know since Y/Ns posted tonnes and you’ve commented on nearly all of them. Figured I should pull my weight,” “Someone has to keep an eye on you two. Stop you from doing something stupid.” “That’s what you’re doing is it?” “You sure you didn’t post the photo with that caption because you’re dying to tell her how you feel and this is a safe way to do so?” Ben scuffed his foot along the carpet, digging his toes into the rough material and feeling like a school boy being admonished by a teacher, “So what if it is?” “All I’m saying is be careful. You’re keeping two very large secrets and–” “Yeah Joe, I fucking know but I don’t have much of a choice here,” “That’s what I’m saying…look, I know you’re a bit of a romantic at heart but you’re also not the sort to get this hung up on unavailable skirt so I believe you when you say you love her. But don’t let it slip out because that’ll just make things worse.” “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess,” “Neither do I. Frankly I don’t think you were thinking. At least, not about yourself.” “Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it?” “Alright. This is going to sound harsh, but it’s coming from a place of friendship. Just stop.” “What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.” “That’s not what I meant. I understand you can’t get out of the fake relationship stuff. But, maybe you can get out of the other side of things. Just tell her. Intentionally, tell her. I know it’s not what you want to hear and I know you’re going to argue with me and say you can’t but why not? If you tell her and she admits she likes you then great, you can be together for real. Or, if you tell her and she says she doesn’t feel the same then she can’t get out either and you can be miserable together and she’ll at least stop hanging around you so much when you don’t have to be seen together and you can get over her.” Ben shook his head, “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel,” “I just think this whole situation…sucks for you. A mirthless laugh rose in Ben’s throat, “of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening,” “Are you sure she doesn’t feel something, even if she’s not saying it?” “No I know it’s completely one sided.” “Is there any chance she already knows? You’re not the most subtle guy in the world Ben, maybe she figured it out before you were approached about the fake out,” “No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew,” Ben heard Joe sigh, “I don’t know what to say then man,” “I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her. But it fucking sucks that it’s only in public.” “What about now that the movie’s finished?” “I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will make it easier to stop thinking about her…I doubt it though. It’s not like I haven’t tried already. I spent the whole of pre-production and the first weeks of filming trying to get her off my mind and I couldn’t I don’t know how and I don’t think I could unless we literally stopped talking to each other entirely and, honestly I don’t know that I could handle that. But again, we’re back at I don’t have a choice here. I have to keep seeing her and being with her and being her boyf-” A door slammed at the other end of the house, making Ben jolt. “What is it?” “Nothing, I think Y/N just went to the bathroom or something.” “She’s at your place?” “No, I locked myself out of my place. I’m at hers. I should go though, we’re halfway through an episode.” “Ben. Be careful.” “Always am.”
Ben hung up with a sigh. Joe could tell him to move on or spill the beans all he liked but it wasn’t so simple. He slapped his cheeks and shook his head to clear it, pulling a smile back onto his face as he headed back to the living room. He was a little surprised to see the room empty but settled himself on the couch once again, pulling a throw blanket over himself. It smelt like you. Without thinking he pulled up Instagram on his phone and revisited the photo. You’d commented on it, less cheesy but there were heart emojis strewn throughout. A similar sentiment to his original caption. He sighed and shook his head, clicking out of the app to find something else to read until you returned. The sound of your footsteps drew his attention. Something had changed. You looked pale and unwell. “Are you okay?” “Fine, thanks. Just tired. Might call it quits after this ep.” He didn’t think you’d drunk that much but maybe it was just starting to catch up with you now. Then again, it had been a long and emotional day. You had every right to be wiped out by it and especially now that you were home with no filming or celebrating to distract you from how exhausting it all was. He offered you a spot under the blanket in case it would make you feel better to have some human contact. Just for that reason of course, nothing to do with wanting to hold you. He shrugged it off when you refused and didn’t really think of it again until the episode ended and you went off to bed. He was still too alert to sleep himself, still dwelling on the conversation with Joe. So he flicked TV channels until he found something mildly distracting, a rerun of a dumb home renovation show that was easy to get sucked into.
When he did finally feel tired enough to go to bed he turned off the TV and the lights and began to tiptoe down the hall to his room. But there was light coming from your room. Not the yellow light of a bulb but the blue light of a phone or laptop. You were still up. Maybe you really weren’t feeling well. He wondered if he should check on you, offer to make you a tea with honey and lemon or something else comforting. Did you need tissues? A pot in case you had to throw up? Someone to hold your hair back? He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and sighed. This is exactly what you shouldn’t be thinking. He glanced at the light under your door again and then turned and continued his path up the hall. But, after that, he felt awake again. Unable to sleep. There was too much to think about. Maybe the caption on the photo had been a mistake. Maybe Joe was right and he should tell you. Maybe, maybe, maybe. When it came to you that’s all there was. A noise interrupted him, you groaning and the creak of springs as you shifted in the bed. Is she having a wank? That was his first thought. Does she need help? Was his next. Dangerous. Everything fell silent again and he realised you must have just rolled over to try and get comfortable. He didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. He rolled onto his side, pulled the blanket up a little higher, willed himself to fall asleep but it was out of the question. You shifted again, your bed creaking with the movement. Maybe he should check on you, in case you were unwell. Or maybe there was something on your mind too. Maybe he could help. It was bound to be easier to solve than the mess he was in at any rate. He was on the verge of swinging his legs out of bed again when he was reminded of what Joe said about trying to forget you. He could feel that need to protect you, look after you, rising in his chest again. That wasn’t helpful, it wasn’t what he needed. He sighed and stayed in bed and listened to your tossing and turning until he finally managed to sleep himself. Only to dream of you.
                                                      ***
Ben settled the bill, walked out of the restaurant and kept walking. The entire time thinking back on the days, weeks before the fight was due to occur. Something had seemed off about you. Or maybe that was just hindsight. If he had noticed anything, if he had ever thought you seemed out of sorts, he’d put it down to stress from auditions, trying to find the next job. It wasn’t always easy lining up another project after one had finished. He understood how stressful it could be, especially for an actress like you who was on the cusp of something bigger, looking for your big break. But maybe he’d been blind. After that dinner, after everything you said, there was no denying that something more was going on.
You’d been…not your usual self. From the moment you arrived. He’d asked if you were nervous, but he hadn’t been able to see any of the usual signs. No bouncing let, no bitten lip. So nervous wasn’t it. But you weren’t happy either. He had been though, happy to see you, happy to be with you again. Even with the looming argument. Truthfully, he’d been thinking of what would happen after, when you were alone together and able to just hang out or whatever. He should have realised things were going south the moment you told him to stop looking so happy. He just kept repeating the evening over and over, rewinding and rerunning every moment as if he could figure it all out just from that. Another moment leapt to the front of his mind. “So having a public spat doesn’t bother you but you almost lost your lunch over our first date?” “That was just because the whole situation was new and I felt weird about going on a date with you.” That had hurt though he knew he shouldn’t have let it. Of course you’d have felt weird about going on a date with someone you had no interest in just for the sake of a movie. But still, it had hurt. A taste of what was to come. “Are you nervous?” You didn’t really seem to care what he said. Of course, he hadn’t given you the whole truth. It wasn’t totally dishonest to say argument scenes made him more nervous than love scenes but that was omitting bigger elements. Maybe it would have been more truthful to say the concept of a public fight wasn’t something he was particularly fond of. But at the time he’d felt like if he’d said then he’d have ended up admitting that it was especially true when you were involved. That all he wanted to do was look after you and love you, not argue in a room full of strangers just trying to enjoy a nice meal. After that he felt like he hadn’t been able to get you to say more than a few words. You who was usually so open and conversational. You who he’d spent more time with recently than just about anyone else. You who he could always talk to, joke around with. It was frustrating that you wouldn’t just tell him. He remembers feeling frustrated, of getting short with you. He regretted that. But that was when he was sure something was wrong. He might have ignored all the signs before that but as soon as he felt you had closed yourself off, he wanted to know why. Wanted to figure out what was bothering you, what could have happened. A fight with Felicity? Bad news about an audition? Maybe he’d said something offhanded and hadn’t realised he’d upset you (god if thats the case I want to know even more so I can apologise a hundred times over). He asked about it all, wanted to make things better, but then you were letting rip. Completely off book and unscripted, even when he gave you cues to get back on track. He would have been impressed with your performance except he was so taken aback by it. Without thinking he’d reached for your hand. He can see it happening in his mind, as if he were viewing the scene from above. The way you’d wrenched your hand away, leaving his sitting uselessly in the middle of the table. And all he could hear was “clingy and needy” in your voice with such…what was it, disgust? Hatred? And before he could so much as open his mouth to stop you, you were gone. That’s not what was meant to happen. You were meant to leave together and laugh about it afterwards. He wasn’t meant to be walking through London on his own, trying to figure out what went wrong.
It was then that Ben looked up and realised he didn’t know where he’d walked to. He considered stepping into a bar with all the noise to drown out your voice, all the alcohol he could handle to make him forget. Clingy and needy. But he thought better of it and turned to hail a cab instead. What he couldn’t stop himself from doing was calling you, though he was left disappointed when it went straight to voicemail. He listened for the beep as if he were going to leave a message but when the beep came he didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? What changed? Am I really so clingy? What can I do? Closer to home he tried again but the same thing happened. He hung up before the beep.
As he was letting himself inside his phone rang and for the length of a heartbeat he thought it was you. But it wasn’t. It was just Peter telling him that the video had gone live, congratulating you both for putting on such a good show, being so convincing. He ran through some early statistics, something about how many times it had been shared already, and then followed it by saying they wanted separation for a few weeks, until the make up dinner. Ben listened in a daze. When Peter finally hung up Ben opened twitter. The video was easy to find. He put his phone down on the kitchen bench and moved to pour himself a drink. Maybe he didn’t have quite as much alcohol as a bar, but he had enough to do the trick. His phone was staring at him the entire time. He shook his head, moved the phone to his pocket and headed to his bedroom. His guitar was there, the perfect way to clear his head. He picked it up, sat on the end of the bed and, without thinking, he played the opening chords of that song. Your song. With a slight clatter as his hands knocked the wood, he let the guitar drop back to the bed, trying to dig his phone out of his pocket. The video was still there, waiting for him. Proof. It wasn’t a nightmare, it wasn’t made up. He couldn’t see your face from the angle it was taken. But he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you pulled your hand back as if you couldn’t think of anything worse than having him touch you. And he could hear you. Clingy and needy.
Ben watched it just the once, unable to suffer through it again. It wass already playing on a loop in his head, he didn’t really need the visual reminder. And then he called Joe. There wasn’t really much else he could do. No one else he could talk to about it. Joe had seen it, had watched it, and he commented on how good it looked, how real it seemed. “I think that’s because it was. Y/N went completely off book. We didn’t plan it to be like that,” “Is that why you look so shocked?” “Yeah, guess so.” Ben gulped down a mouthful of his drink and wished he’d brought the bottle with him. “I’m trying very hard not to call her something beginning with B right now,” “Joe she’s not a bitch, she’s…I don’t know. Something must have happened, I just don’t know what. “Maybe she’s starting to crack? Pressure of keeping up a fake relationship is getting to her,” “Can you try not to sound too excited by the idea. I’d remind you I do actually love her and if things work out between us I’d like for you to meet her.” “You can’t blame me for disliking her when I get a call from you every other day telling me she’s broken your heart again,” “You’re such a drama queen,” “Fine, I’ll try to keep my dislike to a minimum. But could it be that? I know she doesn’t have the same baggage as you but it’s probably not easy for her either,” “She called me clingy. Needy. Why would she say that?” “Because she’s a bitch.” “Bloody hell Joe,” “Unless…” “Unless what?” “Is there any chance she knows?” “You mean about me? Come off it, absolutely not. It’s not like I tell everyone I meet about it. You’re the only person who knows.” “Alright, then it must be something else.” “What do I do? I can’t,” Ben sighed, “It was meant to be different. We were going to have words at the restaurant and then go home together looking tense and then laugh about it when we were alone but instead…instead I’m home alone with half a bottle of whisky and a fake girlfriend who won’t answer my calls. What the fuck am I meant to do with that?” “Just give her some space Ben. You don’t know it was you. It could have been any number of things. It might just be that she was having a bad day and because you were already set to have the spat, you caught the brunt of her frustration. She’ll call in a day or two, embarrassed and apologising and you can go back to pining in peace. Out of curiosity, what was the fight originally going to be like?” “Oh, um…We’d decided that I was going to suggest she meet my family and she was going to say she wasn’t ready for that and it was all getting too serious or something like that.” “Well, that’s pretty much what she actually said isn’t it?” Ben thought for a moment. He’d been so wrapped up in her description of him, he’d not really thought about the overall message of her monologue, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” “See, she wasn’t as off script as you thought. She just jumped the gun a bit and took you by surprise. I’d guarantee that it’s something else entirely and you just happened to be the unlucky outlet for her anger.” “Maybe you’re right. She did say that thing about pretending everything was okay and acting like we’re serious….how I love her more than she loves me,” “And you’re certain she doesn’t know,” “100 per cent. She’s never had the chance to find out,” “Then of course I’m right, it was just an issue of timing and you being in the line of fire,” “Maybe I should see her,” “No! Bad idea Ben. Really bad idea.” “I just want to be sure it wasn’t my fault. If I’d been less wrapped up in pretending she was my girlfriend then may-” “Stop beating yourself up. Just try not to drink too much and get some sleep. She’ll sort herself out and call when she’s less mortified by the whole thing.” “Okay, yeah,” “And for fucks sake, stay off twitter,” Ben hung up, feeling marginally better but unable to shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. Clingy and needy. Clingy and needy. Clingy. And needy. The way you’d spat the words at him. The way you’d stormed out. He sighed, slumped forward, and ran his hands down his face. No, Joe’s right, it’s not you. But, as much as he repeated it, Ben still found tears clinging to his palms as he pulled them away.
                                                      ***
Ben looked at his phone and bit his lip. His eyes shifted back to the ocean of brake lights ahead of the car and then back to his phone. He was already running late and the traffic didn’t seem to be moving. God he did not want to be late. Not after everything that had happened. Not after you’d cleared up the mess from the fight, not after he’d made such an effort to be less clingy, to give you more space. Things weren’t back to normal by any stretch but at least you were talking again, at least you’d missed him. The conversation you’d had the previous night, staying on the phone to watch TV. He’d been surprised by your suggestion but equally as thrilled. It had to be a sign that you felt something too. People don’t just watch episodes of TV over the phone for anyone, do they? He was in with a chance, he knew it. But, in the hours after the episode had ended and the call with it, he’d come to one conclusion. He had to tell you. He had to bite the bullet and tell you. If he wanted something real with you, you had to know. And if he kept it secret any longer it could lead to more arguments which he definitely did not want. What he wanted was for you to understand why he’d become so attached, and hopefully, to reciprocate. So he was going to tell you. And he couldn’t be late.
As the car inched forward Ben made up his mind. He was going to be there on time, one way or another. With a thankful word to the driver he got out of the car and hurried onto the pavement, beginning to walk towards the restaurant. He’d spent all day feeling like he was about to have a heart attack, chest aching with how badly he wanted to see you and how nervous he was about your reaction. He wasn’t going to fuck up now. As he walked a display in a shop window caught his eye and he quickly stepped inside. The bell tinkled as he entered, getting the assistant’s attention. She gave him a up and down glance as she greeted him, as if trying to determine the occasion based on his outfit alone. “Welcome to Coming Up Roses, what can I do for you?” “I need a bouquet,” “I can certainly help with that. Any flowers you had in mind?” “Uhhh not really. Spur of the moment,” “Well what’s the occasion then? I have flowers for everything from weddings to funerals, I’m sorry to Congratulations,” “Um, I’m about to tell the girl of my dreams that I’m in love with her,” The woman smiled, “I’ve got just the thing,”
A minute later and Ben was once again hurrying up the street, clutching the freshly wrapped bouquet, his heart pounding as he tried not to worry about how much time was passing. He had to pause at one point to get a map up on his phone, unsure of the restaurant’s exact location. He was further away than he thought and quickened his step, threading through groups of people on nights out, trying not to bump into anyone. You were already there, waiting. He could see you from half a street away and ran to meet you, kissing your cheek and handing over the bouquet before he really registered that that’s what he was doing. It was only as you were smelling the flowers and complementing them that he realised you were there, actually there, and he suddenly felt extra nervous about it all. “I saw it in the shop and, um yeah, I don’t know, they seemed nice, a-and I know you, um, like nice things, so,” Ben wanted to die, wanted to be sucked into a hole in the ground, sent through a time warp, anything to not be there babbling at you like a fucking idiot. “It’s very sweet of you, thank you,” “I’m glad you think so because right now it feels kinda cliché and cheesy.” Shut up “Now you have to carry them around all night,” fucking shut up, “what was I thinking?” for the love of all that is holy, “And god can I just shut up. Sorry.” He didn’t know what had come over him, but he wished it would go away. And things only got worse as he looked you over, took in your whole appearance. Seeing you just made him want you even more, especially with how gorgeous you looked. He wanted to kiss you, tell you. But he had to be able to speak to tell you and he wasn’t going to be able to do that until he relaxed a little. A drink, that’s what he needed. He downed his first one fast, willing it to work its magic. It did help calm him, though your laugh just made his heart race again. Halfway through the next glass he felt like he could say it and was on the verge of just getting it out into the open when you were interrupted, shown to your table. He took it as a sign that it would be bad timing and that he needed to wait. Instead he focused on just having a good night with you. The memory of your last dinner was still in the back of his mind but he pushed it away by reminding himself that things were better now. He felt himself relax more as you talked and with every touch you gave him. The drinks were definitely part of it too but he put it down to you mostly. How much you sooth him, how happy he finds himself when he’s in your presence. He could breathe properly again. You startled him a little by saying Joe would want to meet you but of course, you don’t know that he knows that it’s all a big production so you just meant it in a friend-being-curious-about-the-girlfriend type way. Very far from the truth. But Ben agrees and changes the topic.
When dessert arrived, he thought maybe that could be a good time to say it because it’s the end of the meal and you can leave quickly if you need to. But before he get’s to it he finds himself asking something else instead. “Can I ask about these last couple of weeks?” He hoped he hadn’t wrecked the evening by bringing it up but he was curious too, “Was it good? The space, did you get what you wanted from it?” Ben worried at his lip as he watched you slowly finish your mouthful and set the spoon down. “Yes. I’m not going to lie and say it wasn’t helpful because it really was. Just, having that break from everything. I think I really needed it. But I really really missed you too.” That was a relief. Proof that you were on the same page again, back to normal. And proof that you did care about him. “I’m glad. It was hard not seeing you but yeah, helped me figure some stuff out too. Confirmed some other stuff.” “Like what? If you don’t mind me asking.” This is it, this is your moment, “Like, um,” He wanted to say it, had the words picked out already but, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk driving you away again, causing another scene. Maybe he could say it back at his place, away from the cameras and the interested public. Maybe that would be smarter. All the same, he felt disappointed with himself for not having the guts to just tell you, and to try to cover the moment asked if you wanted to leave. As you step outside he remembers the kiss that was expected and he leans in to remind you. It’s more than a kiss though, different to all the other times you’d kissed. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Any excuse really. And he says as much when he, somewhat accidentally admits to having missed kissing you. It was a thought that somehow slipped out of his mouth, but either you didn’t hear him or you were too caught up in the moment to say anything. Or she feels the same. He pushed the hopeful thought down as you kissed him back. His heart pounded as he felt your hands on his chest, as if it were trying to tell you what he’d been too much of a coward to say. And then you whined and settled on his lap and god what a fucking gorgeous sound. He’d spent months getting off to the memory of a hum and now you were gifting him a whine? An eager, excited whine at that. The sort of thing he’d been trying to imagine and it was so much better than anything he’d come up with. Your hand was in his hair and he very nearly echoed your noise back to you from that alone, but it caught in his throat as you kept kissing him, tongues twisting, your chest pressed against his. He wanted to hold you close and touch every part of you he could reach all at once, unsure of whether to grab your arse or you hip or the back of your neck. So he did a bit of it all, slid his hand along your arm and then down your back and then to your arse. And all too soon it stops. He could have cursed that driver and the heartless car horn that interrupted and sent reality crashing back down around him.
Once you were inside the safe zone of his house, away from the act, he expected things to go back to normal. You’d take off your makeup and then make a cup of tea and fill a glass of water for your flowers and you’d wind down with something on TV before you both went to bed. He’d have to have a shower to get off without you suspecting anything because there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with the memory of your tits pressed against him and your whine and your kiss swimming around his head. But you don’t walk to the bathroom like you normally do. He pulls the wallet from his pocket, places it deliberately next to his keys. But you still haven’t moved. He turns slowly, notices the way you swallow and lick your lips and he swears he’s on the verge of asking what you’re doing or saying something about it being a mistake, at least the thought crosses his mind, but you were standing so close (when did she get so close?) and when you kiss him again he just kisses back.
It’s a mistake probably, definitely, he knows that. He can hear the siren in his head again telling him to stop, pull away. But the problem is that it doesn’t feel like a mistake, doesn’t feel like it should be, and when he takes a step back you step with him and again and again until he’s somehow on the couch with you on his lap again. And why would he stop that, why would he say no to you when you fit there so perfectly and you feel so good? And all he can think about is that whine and that hum from all those months ago and he wants to see what other sounds he can pull from you so he drops his lips to your neck. “Wait, wait,” He’s confused as to why you’re stopping him and even more confused when you’re not in his arms anymore. “It’s rule one Ben,” Bugger rule one. Bugger all the fucking rules, you’ve broken most of them tonight anyway if they weren’t already broken. A voice in the back of his head reminds him what a big mistake that would be, but it can’t argue against making out. Making out isn’t against the rules and you know it too, you hesitate when he says it out loud. “I’d be good to you Y/N, you know I would,” he’s not sure if he’s talking about here and now, physically, or something deeper, something in the realm of boyfriend but what does it matter because both are true. You shake your head, “You know this isn’t real, right Ben?” And then it all comes out. That you knew about his crush. And everything stops. Just stops. He can’t breathe, air doesn’t exist anymore, and he’d say his heart had stopped too except he can hear it pounding in his ears, drowning out whatever you’re saying. You knew? You’d known for months? All those times Joe had suggested it, all that time he spent worrying about keeping it from you and you already fucking knew? And then everything seems to speed up all at once. The air rushes back, as loud as his heart, which only doubles it’s pounding until he can feel it trying to punch a hole through his chest and escape. Rational thought returns, connecting dots and drawing conclusions almost faster than he can keep up. “Is that why you were upset before the argument? Is that why you didn’t want to see me for the last two weeks?” “I thought some space might help you stop feeling that way.” He has to laugh at how fucking ridiculous an idea that is. That space would have ever helped him purge you from his system. Love isn’t that easy to get rid of. And his tongue must have sped up with the rest of his body because he’s saying it, the thing he’s been putting of saying, the thing he’s been wanting to tell you all night, and he wishes he could stop because this isn’t how he wanted it to go. This wasn’t how you were meant to find out. But no matter how much he screams at himself he can’t take it back. It’s out there. And you look horrified. “You love me?” Three words have never been spoken with more contempt than you managed to cram into that once sentence. “You don’t have to say you don’t feel the same, I know.” Your silence cuts through him like a knife, shredding what little hope remained. His heart isn’t beating against his chest anymore. It’s been kicked across the room and lies lifeless against the wall.  “That’s what I thought.”
He can’t be here anymore, can’t look at you. He wants to leave but he remembers all the cameras outside, reminds you of their presence in case you’re planning the same escape he is. He’s trapped there and so are you. So he puts as much space between you as he can, heads to his room and slumps heavily onto the end of his bed. All he can think about is those three words, you love me? Not a hopeful question. Not even stunned surprise.  More of an accusation. He tastes blood but otherwise barely notices when he tears his lip with his teeth. You must hate him for getting you both into this mess. He hates that he’s done it, that he’s put you in this position. And he knows you’re never going to want to speak with him let alone see him again. And he knows that as soon as the cameras leave, you’ll leave too. And that thought hurts just as much as everything else. You’re moving about, he can hear you walking around. It sounds like you’re pacing. Five steps and then a turn and then five more steps, another turn. Something about the rhythm breaks through his overactive, panicking, worrying mind. Something about it calms him. Maybe it’s that knowing you’re restless and agitated makes him want to comfort you, despite everything he’s feeling. Or maybe it’s just because the sound of your footfall means you’re still here. And if you’re still here then maybe he can smooth things over. He doesn’t expect to fix everything. He’d understand if you still wanted to erase him from your contacts and pretend you were only ever colleagues. But if he can just explain himself, explain that he never meant for this to happen, explain why he kept it from you or tried to anyway and maybe explain what he’d wanted tonight to be instead of the clusterfuck it’d become. If he can get any of that out then maybe you won’t hate him quite so much.
He says your name softly, not sure he’s allowed to say your name, “I heard you pacing.” “Sorry, I’ll keep the noise down.” “No, that’s not- it’s okay. I just thought, since we’re both clearly awake and since they haven’t left yet, I thought you might like a cuppa.” “I didn’t think you drank tea,” Have you really not noticed yet? He never bought tea bags, until you started coming to stay over regularly. Twice you opined about not being able to have a cup of tea before bed and that was all it took for him to start keeping them in his cupboard along with the biscuits you prefer. That’s how he knows it’s love. He took a breath as he pulled out mugs and stuck the kettle on, resolutely not looking at you. If he looks at you he’ll spill his guts and won’t be able to stop. He has to make tea first. Just the way you like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” It comes out the second he looks at your face and it’s only that you’re telling him you understand that he doesn’t immediately say more. He drops his eyes to the brown liquid in his mug, undrinkable in his opinion, but a perfectly adequate distraction. He needs to get the words right this time. No stumbling and stuttering, no blurting things out without thinking. He needs to say it right so you’ll listen and understand what he’s trying to do. “I promise I understand where you’re at and I’m not going to try and convince you or to chase you or anything like that. I really am trying not to feel this way.” He glances back at your eyes, terrified of what he’d see there. “It’s okay Ben, I know you wouldn’t. I just wasn’t expecting you to drop the L bomb.” “Please don’t hate me,” it’s a whisper compared to everything else he’s said but there’s no way to make his voice stronger. It’s the thing he’s most worried about and admitting it out loud to you is harder than he imagined it would be. “I could never,” the sincerity with which you say it is almost enough to make him cry but the hug is what pushes him over the edge. It’s more warmth and kindness than he thinks he deserves after everything he’s done. And it’s exactly what he needed. Comfort and reassurance in one simple gesture. He wraps his arms around you for the third time that night, his face pressed into the cook of your neck, and you let him, squeezing back, as he lets everything out.
                                                        ***
The night after you met Joe, Ben visits him again, this time without you. It had always been the plan, to see Joe a few times, as much as the press circuit would allow, while he was in the US. But after the previous night it’s more necessary. And yet, Ben was struggling to vocalise any of his questions. It’s not until after dinner, when Joe suggests they take their drinks out onto the veranda, that any of it comes up. It’s peaceful out there, sitting in the cool night air, each of them taking turns to swig from their beer bottle as they talk. But Ben’s mind is constantly disrupted with thoughts of you. It’s the first time since all the promotion stuff started that he’s had more than a couple of minutes away from your side. Joe isn’t helping, constantly glancing at Ben, frowning, as if he’s trying to work something out. But he’s the first to crack, making it easier for Ben to talk. “How’s it going?” “Press is fine, bit boring. You know how repetitive it can get,” “And you know that’s not what I meant,” “Yeah. Nah, everything’s fine. Mostly,” “Mostly?” “It’s not easy having to share a room with her. I mean, it’s fun though. I’m glad she’s the one I’m doing all this shit with. We’re mates and we’ve been working so closely for so long now that we…get each other. Like there was this interview where one of the questions made me uncomfortable and she knew straight away and broke in to take some of the heat. She just says whatever she can to make me laugh or ease the tension or whatever will help. And I know when she’s getting nervous and needs a break or a fresh cuppa. But when it’s just us in our suite it’s…hard. I don’t know, I’m just trying to keep some distance even though there’s not much to be had. What did you think of her?” “Honestly?” “Of course,” “She’s perfect for you. Except for the not being interested part.” Ben nodded, letting his eyes fall to where his fingernail was digging into the label on his bottle. “Although…” “What?” Ben looked back at Joe, “You think she might be?” “I don’t know. And I don’t want to get your hopes up. She certainly doesn’t think she is. I asked her about it while you were out here last night and she was adamant that she doesn’t think of you that way but that’s not how it looked to me.” “We had a moment yesterday. Just before we came here. Nearly kissed.” “Seriously? Again?” “I stopped it. Kind of wish I hadn’t. Maybe if something happened, she’d change her mind,” “I know I’m not part of this situation and I wasn’t there and can only go off of what you’ve said and the one time I’ve met her but, for what it’s worth, I think you made the right call.” “Yeah?” “I don’t think you want anything to happen with her until you’re both more sure where you stand. Definitely not while you’re stuck sharing a hotel room.” “But what if -” Joe shook his head, “I watched her last night. She looked at you a lot and not just because you were the one talking. She also smiled a lot whenever your attention was on her. I was half expecting her to say she had a thing for you but wasn’t sure if she should tell you or something like that. So I think there is a good chance she is attracted to you but for some reason, doesn’t want to admit it and I think sleeping with her would just make things more complicated and worse for both of you. You said she had her little freak out thing when you were hooking up after that date. You don’t want to let things get further and have her freak out again.” “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just confusing myself because we’ve been in such close quarters. I just wish things were more certain y’know? Like, she keeps saying she doesn’t like me as more than a friend but then we’ll have a moment like we did in the hotel, or like on the plane when she was leaning on my shoulder to help with my crossword puzzle, or when we fucking made out. And then I’m back getting my hopes up only for her to turn around and crush me again. And it’s probably nothing anyway. Just pent up urges since we’ve been fucking trapped in this for months now.” “I don’t know man, it might be more than that. She seemed really into you last night.” “Nah. She’s horny and I’m there and that’s why we’ve had these near kisses and stuff. She’s said she doesn’t like me so that’s it. Maybe it’s better that way anyway.” Joe shook his head again but let the subject drop, “So how long are you here for again? There’s this restaurant up the road I should take you to.”
                                                      ***
The closer he got to his parent’s place the more tightly wound Ben felt. Bringing a girl home to meet the family was always at least a little nerve wracking – wondering whether they’d like her, whether she’d like them, how many embarrassing stories he’d have to sit through. But he could safely say that with you it was worse than with anyone else. There was so much history with you, despite never having legitimately dated, that he couldn’t stop thinking about. You meant so much to him. And he knew his mum was going to love you (how could she not) and that meant he was going to be asked why it took him so long to bring you around and about where it was headed and they were questions he didn’t really feel up to answering. Of course, on top of all of that, there was the prospect of sharing a room with you, maybe a bed. You hadn’t entirely worked out the arrangement and not knowing was just making him more nervous. Not just for himself either, for you as well. If he was nervous he could only imagine you were too. You were going to be facing questions as well, judgement from a new family. A family you didn’t even want to be part of. So he kept close to you all night. Because it’s easier to pretend to be a couple when you’re by his side and it’s easier to avoid tough conversations when he has the excuse of introducing you to someone else up his sleeve. And it’s so much easier to keep his folks away from you when he’s got your hand in his. He does circuits of the garden with you, chats to everyone with you, repeating the story of how you met and the fiction of how you started dating. And the whole time he’s trying to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself at least a little because you don’t even have actual feelings for him to push you on. He’d gladly endure first meetings with every single member of your family tree if you asked but he knows you’re only there because you have to be. Unfortunately, he’s also had a bit to drink so eventually he has to relieve himself, silently cursing his bladder because it means he has to leave you on your own. You don’t seem to mind too much. If anything, it feels like you’ve found your feet and are actually having a good night which he’s glad for. But he still goes as quick as he can.
He’s on his way back when he sees you and instantly realises something’s wrong. Your leg is bouncing so rapidly it’s a wonder you don’t knock the underside of the table, and you’re looking around as if you’re trying to find him. His first thought is that someone has said something inappropriate. There’s plenty of drunk cousins around and who knows what one of them might have said or done in a misguided attempt to be charming or impressive or flirtatious. But then he realises who you’re sitting next to and his stomach drops. So he hurries over to the table and takes the seat beside you, laying his hand on your knee to try to calm you. It works well enough for you to be able to sit there a little longer until he can find a reasonable excuse to leave the table and his mum. He’s not in the mood to be at the party anymore and leads you to the exit, politely waving off anyone who tries to convince you both to stay a little longer. “Better?” he asks once you’re outside, relieved when you say yes. “She mentioned us getting married,” “What? Why the fuck would that have come up?” Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d been prepared for a lot but not that. “It was just a passing comment but I….” “It’s okay, c’mon, let’s go home you can tell me everything.” Without thinking he pulled you into a hug, breathing out when he felt you lean into him.
By the time he got back to the house Ben wanted another drink. You’d sat under his arm the entire ride back, keeping quiet, obviously lost in thought as you absentmindedly played with his fingers. Every brush had made him want to take your hand properly and tilt your head up to kiss you, irresponsible and selfish as it might be. One of the upsides of being back home was knowing where his parents hid their best booze, so he dug out a bottle of his dad’s Johnnie Walker, feeling a little like a teenager again, pinching a drink to impress a girl. You laughed though so he counted it as a win. But the reason you were alone together, no longer at the party, was still weighing on him and clearly on you as well. “So what happened back there?” He handed you a glass and waited until you felt you could speak. “I guess it was just harder to be around your family than I was expecting.” Everything you said made sense he supposed. He’d not really considered it that way because he wasn’t so much lying as just playing pretend. But, as much as he wished you were on the same page, he understood where your guilt came from. He tried to make you laugh again but when it didn’t work he set his glass down and took your hand. “Seriously, Y/N, there’s nothing to feel guilty about. The premiere is coming up in a couple of weeks and then pretty soon after that we’ll break up and I’ll tell them it just wasn’t working. They’ll accept it and never have to know the truth. And then we can forget this whole thing and move on.” His chest tightened at the thought of it, not being allowed to even pretend to have you anymore but he clamped down on it for your sake. “But it must be hard for you too. Having me here and everything,” He half shrugged, looking down at where his thumb was brushing the back of your hand softly, “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” Ben glanced back at you, about to tell you it was sweet of you to care about how he was doing, but when he saw your expression he stopped.
He was a little shocked by the kiss, stumbling back a step or two, the warning siren blaring in his head again. Everything told him to run away and yet his feet were frozen in place. Joe had been right when he said he shouldn’t do this, and he’d been here before. It hadn’t gone well then so what made him think it would be better this time? But somehow he can’t find the words and you kiss him again and he decides he’s going to let it happen. He’s sick of trying to fight how badly he wants you and you clearly want this too. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be trying to undress him. He decides he’s going to let himself be selfish for once and just go with it. After the decisions made it all turns into a bit of a blur really. You’re leaning against the table and then he’s carrying you up to his room and it’s like every almost kiss, every missed opportunity and pent up moment you’d never let yourselves have is breaking all at once. You’re on his bed now and god he’s wanted you like this for so fucking long and who cares if it’s wrong. One night won’t matter. And he’s surprised by how wet you are when you pull his hand towards your cunt but he loves that you’re taking the initiative and that you clearly want him just as much as he wants you. You don’t tell him to stop. You tell him how to touch you, what feels good, and he loves that about you too. Even more than he loves how you sound saying his name as you clench on his fingers and shiver through your orgasm and fuck, he thought the whine from last time was a captivating sound but it has nothing on this, on how you sound when you cum for him. He’s going to be thinking about that moment, about you saying his name like that forever. He wants to be inside you, wants to hear it again, wants to make you feel even better and he’s forgotten where you are and how you got there so he leans over and realises this isn’t this room. This room isn’t as prepared as he’d like. For a moment he thinks that’s it and maybe it’s for the best except then you say you have condoms as you get up and rummage through your bags. He wants to know why – were you planning this or are you always just prepared like that? – except then you’re coming back towards him and he really doesn’t care why, just that you do. You climb on top of him and he feels breathless at the sight. He wants to worship you, every inch of you, and he wants to be as close as possible, pushing himself up to kiss you again because he loves you. He says it without meaning to but he doesn’t care, he’s just trying to get you to moan his name again, rubbing your clit until you’re both finished, breathing hard against each other. You’re kissing along his jaw and he wants to stay like that forever, blissed out and tangled in each other’s embrace. But reality rushes back, ignoring how desperately he’s trying to cling to the moment, and he realises how messy everything suddenly is. It hurts too. Knowing it’s not real, knowing that you don’t want what he wants. He remembers what he said just moments before, that confession whispered against your lips, and it makes him feel queasy with embarrassment on top of the heartache that’s already setting in. How many times does he have to put himself through this pain before he gets it through his head? It’s not reciprocated. It never will be. “I’ve gotta…” Ben nods his head in the direction of the door, hoping you’ll fill in the blank yourself. He wants to leave but he also wants to stay there with you, so he settles on shifting out of your reach and looking over at you, not quite able to meet your eye. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” Weren’t you? “Neither. Are you okay?” “Yeah. I, um, it was really good and I-I think I kind of needed it.” Ben tried to smile but it didn’t feel like it worked properly. Sure you needed it. A quick fuck to break the forced dry spell. He wanted to run from the room, flee the scene “It was good for me too. Really good. But it can’t ever happen again.” He averted his eyes again, focused on slipping back into his underwear. There was half a second where he looked around for his shirt before realising it was out at the table with the unfinished whiskies. He’d have to tidy up so no one would be able to work out what happened.
Ben downed what remained of both drinks, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction, though much too brief. He grabs his phone from the table, drops the glasses onto the kitchen sink and heads outside to throw the used condom into the garbage bin. As if he was going to leave the evidence of his cowardice and misjudgement inside for anyone to find. Ben turned to head back towards the door, but he didn’t want to walk through it. Inside he’d have to face you and he wasn’t sure how to do that yet. Instead he walked down the sideway into the backyard, taking a seat on the retaining wall by the flower bed of peonies. It’s not exactly warm sitting there in just his boxers and his fingers shake a little as he unconsciously find’s Joe’s name in his contacts. Joe must be busy or asleep or something (What’s the time difference again?) because he doesn’t pick up. Instead the call goes to voicemail. “Joe, it’s Ben here. Um… you’re gonna laugh so hard when you hear how fucking stupid I am,” Ben forces a laugh himself, “So I, uh, I just told Y/N that I love her….again….while we were having sex.” A pause as it sank in, “I’m not even sure how it…how we got to… We were just talking and then we were in bed and…. But it’s okay because I told her it could never happen again,” Ben thinks of how affectionate you’d been after, kissing his jaw and his nose, clinging to him, but it wasn’t real, it was just your post-sex, post-orgasm mood. He starts to laugh, less false but not entirely natural either, “I have to drive back with her tomorrow. Christ. Talk about bad timing, huh. But it’s fine though, it’s fine, totally fine. Joe, it’s fine. Because it wasn’t real. We’ve both been pent up and she spent all day with my family and had to listen to my mum talk about us maybe getting married. This was her reward. And that’s all it was. And I’m the idiot for hoping it could ever be more than that. I mean it’s not like friends don’t sometimes fuck, right? Especially when they’ve been drinking and pretending to date. Sex doesn’t have to mean feelings and it doesn’t for her and that’s fine.” There was that tight feeling in his chest again. Ben cleared his throat. “The drive will give me a chance to tell her it was a mistake. Because it was. This whole thing was a mistake. It was a mistake to fuck her and it was a mistake to bring her to meet my family and it was a mistake to pretend to date her and the biggest mistake of all of them was falling for her. And I haven’t been doing enough to reverse that. I know I said I have been, but I haven’t. I got caught up in the maybes and what ifs and I didn’t really try to move on. But now I…. It’s gotta fucking end sometime. I can’t keep doing this. So I’ve got to tell her it was a mistake and I don’t love her. Maybe I never did. Maybe I’m the same as her and it was all just because I was horny. Whatever. Now I can move on with my life. She doesn’t love me and I don’t love her and she’ll just be some bitch I nailed and we’ll both be happy, right?” Ben sighed and swiped at his blurry eyes. He’s not sure if the voicemail cut out midway through his thought process but it probably doesn’t matter. Movement from upstairs catches his eye. You in his old bedroom, getting dressed and leaving the room. He’s a little worried that if he heads back inside now he’ll bump into you on your way to get a drink from the kitchen but he can’t sit outside in the chill air all night. He takes a breath and swipes his knuckle over his eyes again before heading back inside, creeping towards the bedroom. You weren’t anywhere to be seen, though he guesses that means you’re in the bathroom. When he reached the bedroom again, he dug into the closet and pulled out a number of spare blankets, stealing a pillow from the bed. It’s not a particularly comfortable nest that he makes but it’s warm and doesn’t smell as much like you as the bed does. The pillow still holds a trace of you, but he flips it over and the scent is gone. He’s there when you get back, already pretending to sleep, curled in on himself facing away from you. “Ben?” He squeezes his eyes tighter shut, listening as you flick off the light and tiptoe back towards the bed. There’s a creak of springs as you get comfortable and then another as you move again. “Ben?” Your voice sounds even softer that time and Ben is tempted to answer but he bites his tongue. “Ben I-I…. Goodnight.” There’s another creak as you settle back down again. Ben lies perfectly still until he’s sure you aren’t going to move again. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re trying to say. It’ll just be everything he already knows. So he keeps quiet and feigns sleep in the hopes that real sleep will bring it’s respite sooner rather than later.
                                                      ***
Ben’s phone rang and he admonished himself for hoping it was you. He was meant to be getting over you. Besides, the hope was misplaced. It was his mum. “How did Y/N’s audition go?” “Uh,” It took him a moment to remember the excuse he’d made up, “yeah, well I think.” “She’s lovely, Ben. I’m glad you finally let us meet her,” “Yeah,” He didn’t know how else to respond but his mother didn’t need much more encouragement than that. “You should bring her back soon, I’d love to have more of a chance to get to know her. It was a bit hard with so many people there.” “Yeah, um, I’d have to check when we’re free.” He said, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m sure you could find one night for us,” “Yeah. But there’s the premier coming soon and we’ve both got auditions and meetings lined up so I don’t know for sure. But let me talk to Y/N and we’ll find a day that works.” “Maybe a weekend? You could stay for a couple of days then, wouldn’t have to rush off.” “We’ll see. Depends.” “Don’t leave it too long honey,” “I won’t mum. Sorry, I’ve got to run, expecting a call back about something.” “Alright, love you,” “Love you too mum,” Ben threw his phone to the other side of the couch and sighed. He’d been expecting that call but that didn’t make it any easier to get through. Not when he’d spent the last few days thinking about that night and everything that had happened. The way your lips felt on his, the way you’d looked sitting on his lap, the way you’d sounded when you came. He shook his head as if he were an etch-a-sketch but the thoughts didn’t disappear, they just morphed into thoughts of later, in the car on the way home. How you’d nodded when he’d said he didn’t love you, clearly overjoyed with the news but trying not to show it.
 Ben hadn’t gone cold turkey with you, there was still some contact, but he refrained from anything too unnecessary, spent as much time as he could with his other friends, and tried to keep any replies to you as simple as possible. Unfortunately his parents was less restrained. A few days later his mum called again, checking if he’d had a chance to invite you over yet. The day after he received a message from his dad suggesting he come down for lunch on the weekend (and encouraging him to bring you along), and then a couple days after that there was another call, one which he ignored. Every time he was thrown back to that night. But not even ignoring the calls helped. It just left him dwelling on everything and it didn’t even deter them. When next his mum called he found himself in yet another conversation on the topic and only just managed to stop himself from hanging up in her ear. He couldn’t do it anymore. It was pointless, all of it. The part of him that had thought you’d fall for him if you slept together had been proven wrong so there was nothing left to hope for. But with his family and friends thinking you were dating, always asking after you, and with you texting him memes and requesting his help, how was he meant to move on? What he needed was a clean break. But the breakup wasn’t scheduled until after the premiere and it wasn’t like a date had been set, it was up to the studio or your agents or someone else. And Ben wasn’t sure how he’d be able to wait it out that long.
 A breakthrough came in an email from Peter, an update about the movie Ben had signed on for. Originally it was meant to film in England, but those plans were in the process of changing. Part of it would still be done around London but now it seemed a big portion of the filming would happen in Spain too. Peter seemed unsure as to how this change would clash with the plans for the breakup but Ben saw it as the opportunity he needed. He wouldn’t be leaving until after the premiere anyway so it wouldn’t change your last public appearance together, but it would also work as the clean break he’d been looking for. Plus, as he reasoned to Peter, they could use the distance as an excuse for why the breakup happened. Peter seemed to like the idea and agreed that the change of location wouldn’t affect anything enough to make Ben drop out. Ben was relieved, having been excited about the project since he first picked up the script, and began looking forward to getting away from you properly. Being in a completely different country would give him the time and space he needed to stop thinking about you. It would be easy to sever all ties to you and get on a plane and move on, maybe meet someone who could drive you from his mind. He’d have to break up with you though, not just through the press but as a friend too. He couldn’t have you texting him while he was away or commenting on photos he posted online. It had to be complete. He had to remove you from his life entirely. After the premiere would be a good time to tell you. He’d pull you aside at the party or maybe tell you in the limo on the way home. It’d be hard to explain but you’d understand. She’s probably been wondering how to get rid of you anyway. Surely, you’d be pleased to hear he was going to leave you alone, not bother you with his stupid feelings anymore. You’d agree it was for the best.
                                                      ***
The night of the premiere snuck up on Ben. He’d been distracted with warding off his parents every invitation, on top of sorting out everything for his trip to Spain. Before he knew it the night had arrived making him feel equal parts excited about seeing the final product of what he’d spent so many months working on and anxious about seeing you. All he could think about was what he was going to say to you. He felt bad about cutting you from his life but there was relief too, knowing it’d be over soon. As he dressed in the suit his stylist had picked out he went over the speech he’d mentally written. It’s just a breakup, you’ve done it before. Tell her you’re sorry but you can’t see her anymore. That’s all you have to do. So, it was with this confusing mixture of emotions that he got into the limo and he only felt more ill at ease as he approached your place to pick you up. “You look lovely,” he said as you climbed into the car beside him. It came out more robotic than he meant it to. But there was a sense that this was the last time he’d be allowed to properly look at you so, while you were getting settled and taking in the interior of the limousine, he allowed himself a final chance to look you over. A hundred other adjectives to describe how beautiful you were, all dressed up and glowing, popped into his head but he kept those to himself. He couldn’t second guess his decision now. It was the only way to stop caring about you. And yet, he could feel his resolve crumbling just from being near you for the first time in weeks. No. Don’t let her get to you. This is why you can’t be in contact. Ben felt his hand curl into a fist as he reminded himself how useful the space would be. What he needed was some rules, guidelines to follow to help him stick to his plan. He ignored the irony as he came up with them. No holding hands. Actually, make that no physical contact. No voluntary physical contact anyway. He was bound to be asked by someone to take a photo with you or appear on camera with you and he couldn’t refuse if they asked for him to touch you or kiss you or anything. Do as many interviews as you can without her. That would hopefully keep interactions to a minimal. Don’t look at her during the movie.
 It was surprisingly easy to stick to the rules as you both made your way down the red carpet, but he knew it wasn’t so much his choice as it was how busy and noisy and chaotic everything was. People called his name from every side, reporters looking for quick interviews, fans looking for autographs or photos. He was able to sidestep you easily, answering questions that were thrown at him on his own until someone asked if they could speak to you both at once or get a photo of you together. Whenever you were waved over to join him, he attempted to maintain as much space as he could, but you seemed to have set your own rules just to make it harder for him. You took his hand, leant your head on his shoulder, stood so close your leg brushed against his, stroked your hand over his arm, anything and everything you could to be closer to him. Ben wasn’t sure if you really were acting more affectionate (clingy and needy) than normal or if it just felt that way because he was attempting to hold back. He put up with it though, unable to do much besides press on to the next interview without you. The hardest part was when you reached a bank of photographers who wanted a number of photos of the happy couple. Someone called out for him to kiss you and then suddenly the entire crowd was calling for it. He kept it soft and brief, though a part of him regretted not making the final kiss you’d share better.
 After that he was able to escape you for a little, talking to people as everyone gathered in the theatre to watch the movie. He didn’t look at you again until he was on stage with you, introducing the film and saying his words of gratitude and celebration. But even that didn’t last long and then he was able to take his seat and focus his attention on the screen. Watching himself was always a bit of a weird experience. Part enjoying what he’s helped create, part critiquing his performance, and part wondering why it had been edited the way it had been edited. But somehow it was even stranger sitting beside you and watching you play at being in love with him. He recognised expressions, small smiles and looks, that you’d given him on dates during the course of your relationship. Just proof of how fake everything with you was. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and an oddly jealous feeling in his gut. And he could feel you looking at him but he stuck to his rules and kept his eyes fixed ahead.
 He turned to his other side afterwards to talk to Alfie, wondering aloud how everyone would react to the movie and laughing about how well it had turned out. Ben couldn’t think what to say to you, knowing the inevitable end was coming. It was closer now that everyone was heading to the after party. So he was grateful when Alfie joined the two of you in your car. “You two ready to party?” He laughed, “Fuck I love that work gives me such a good excuse to get plastered.” Ben laughed along but he was stuck by the realisation that of course there’d be drinking. He’d have to watch how much he had, especially around you. He didn’t want to say something he’d regret or not be able to explain himself properly. “I think shots are in order to get us started. Meet you both by the bar?” “Sounds like a plan Al,” “I’m making yours a double Jones. We’ll have him dancing on the table by the end of the night, right Y/N?” “Oh I’d love to see that.” Cameras flashed as the small group got out of the car. Alfie headed off down the line, catching up with one of the others, leaving Ben and you on your own. Ben felt you press into his side, hanging off his arm, and thought about what waited in the club. Alfie with shots followed by champagne and cocktails and whatever else would be pressed on him during the night. He didn’t want to blurt it out or let it slip in front of other people. He had to tell you before he’d had anything to drink, just in case. It was now. It had to happen now.
 As soon as he was inside, Ben looked around for somewhere he could have a quiet word with you, somewhere no one was likely to overhear. A nearby mirrored hallways seemed the perfect place. Everyone else was busy heading into the main room and it was out of view of the photographers still hanging around outside, waiting for the stragglers to show up. “Can I speak to you over hear a sec?” he lead you around the corner, looking around to double check for eavesdroppers, “So, there’s something I need to…Y/N?” he realised you hadn’t been paying attention, probably keen to get inside and celebrate. “Yeah, sorry, Um…” Ben didn’t hear what you said next, too busy trying to remember everything he wanted to tell you, “I was going to hold off until later but I don’t want to let something slip after a few drinks or anything like that. I can’t do this anymore. This whole thing was a mistake that I should never have agreed to and I need it to be over now.” He could see how confused you were, “You know they’re going to break us up in like a week, right?” “Yeah well, that’s too long to wait. I’m breaking us up now.” He kept talking, sure the shock of it would wear off and you’d agree with him once you’d heard it all, “And…I don’t think I can see you again, not for a while at least. I need some space to forget this ever happened. I, um, I start my new job in a few days so I think they’ll probably use that in the magazines to explain our breakup. And I don’t expect I’ll see you until after it’s finished. If then. So…good luck with that witch movie. Take care of yourself.” He didn’t want to hear you agree with him, didn’t want to hear you say it was for the best or that you were going to suggest the same thing or even a goodbye. So he pushed past you and followed the noise until he found the bar. As promised Alfie was there, with a few others, a shot glass in each hand. He handed one to Ben. “Where’d Y/N go?” “Oh, uh, loo. She’ll be here in a minute.” “Well here’s to a job well done and hopefully some fucking record breaking box office numbers,” “Cheers to that,” Ben clinked his glass against Alfie’s and downed the shot, hissing a little, “another?” “Read my mind,” Ben lost himself in conversation and drinks, chatting with those around him for a while before moving on to talk to more people. Beer in hand, he headed towards the side of the room where a couple of the other main cast were sitting. Claudia looked up as he approached, “Heya Ben! Where’s Y/N? I haven’t seen her all night,” It was only then that Ben realised he hadn’t seen you come in after he’d left you in the hallway. He glanced around in an attempt to spot you, a pang of worry shooting through him but then he stopped looking. She’s not yours to worry about anymore.
                                                      ***
Ben woke up with a minor hangover the day after the premiere. Maybe it was karma. Despite what he told himself, he’d kept an eye out for you all night, but never saw you and he was more than a little worried that it was because of what he’d said. It was tempting to call and ask where you’d gotten to but a quick glance at the clock told him you’d likely still be asleep anyway. Besides, he knew he shouldn’t. He’d told you he wasn’t going to see you again and he intended to stick to his word. Instead he sent a group message to his mates and invited them around for one last hang out before he left for Spain. The next call he made was to his mum. “Hi honey. How’d the premiere go? “It was really fun, movie looks good.” “How long before you fly out?” “Couple of days,” “Shame there’s not enough time for you and Y/N to come over for dinner,” “Yeah, um, about that… we broke up.” “What? Why?” “It just wasn’t working. Mutual decision, we both felt it had run its course but decided to keep it quiet until after the premiere. So, yeah, no dinner, even if I was going to be in the country.” “Oh, honey, are you okay?” “Yeah, fine. Like I said, we both knew it was coming so y’know, no hard feelings or anything.” “It’s a shame, she was so lovely,” “Yeah, well, sometimes things just don’t work the way you think they will.”
The boys arrived in the afternoon, bringing a mixture of snacks and a few beers with them. They settled in the living room to play video games. Ben liked the company. It was a good distraction. Or it would have been if talk hadn’t turned to you. “Bit surprised you wanted us here and not Y/N. Figured you’d spend your last days in the UK with her,” “Why would I when we broke up?” “You what? When?” Ben shrugged, “We broke up. Few days ago,” “Jesus man, I’m sorry,” “Don’t be, it’s fine. I dumped her.” “Yeah but you had to go to the premiere with her right? That’s rough,” “Was a bit but there was an open bar so I coped,” Ben laughed. “Might be time we got him back on the market then,” “What? We only broke up a couple of days ago,” “You’re clearly not too cut up about it,” “What the fuck would you know, you’ve been single for what is it, three years now?” “Well you didn’t tell us when it happened, and you never even told us when you got together. We found out through a magazine, so obviously you weren’t really that serious about her” “We were waiting until after all the movie stuff was done, and that’s bollocks.” “Excuses. Besides, getting someone new to suck you off is the best way to forget an ex. This is your phone right?” “Oi give that back,” There was a scuffle as Ben tried to grab his phone back but he was outnumbered and pinned down as the boys redownloaded his Bumble app and signed in for him, laughing about how he used the same password for everything. “She’s fit, give her a like,” “Oh I like her, might be a bit tall for you though Ben,” Ben rolled his eyes as he watched them swipe on profile after profile until they heard a noise that meant one of the girls had sent him a message. “There you go Ben, didn’t take long did it. You’ll forget all about that Y/N chick in no time,” Ben snatched his phone back, “You guys are such wankers,” “That’s not very nice considering we’ve just got you a new girl,” There was laughter and more teasing as controllers were passed around and the game was loaded. Ben closed the app, thumb hovering over it to delete it again. But maybe they were right. Maybe someone new would be good. He set the phone down again and turned his attention to the game.
                                                      ***
Spain was beautiful and having a new movie to work on was the perfect distraction, especially considering how many stunts, fight scenes, and action sequences were involved. It gave him a chance to meet more people in the industry, people he was excited to work with, and really focus on something other than you. The cast went out together frequently too, dinners at local restaurants, drinks in the hotel bar, getting lost in an unfamiliar city. There was no trace of you there, no reminders of date nights, nothing but work and a new country to explore. Occasionally he’d get a notification that a reporter or curious individual was trying to message him, asking questions about you and the split but he ignored them. Ben deleted the Bumble app too within the first few days, knowing he wouldn’t use it. There was no time, even if he’d wanted to hook up with anyone. He could always reinstall it once he was back home. Once he knew you were in the past. Because the problem was that at some point every night, Ben would get back to his hotel suite and be left alone again. For a while he’d be able to think about what scenes would be filmed the next day, maybe practice some fight choreography. But eventually he’d run out of distractions and then all that was left to think about was you. Peter had sent through the first articles that reported the breakup and since then he’d found himself wondering if you’d moved on yet, found someone else to date now that you were allowed to. He’d considered checking your Instagram account but had held off, knowing it was a step in the wrong direction. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. He hadn’t gotten over you enough yet to deal with photos of you and another man together.
 This night was much the same as the others had been. Everyone met up for dinner, followed by a couple of drinks and then headed back to the hotel to unwind. Ben decided to call it an early night. He’d spent a good part of the day hooked up to harnesses and wires, being flung at a wall over and over. He was sore and tired figured some extra rest would do him good. He was just settling into bed, trying to keep his mind on the TV show he’d put on when he heard the knock. He listened closely for a moment but it couldn’t be for him, he’d put up a do not disturb sign on his door, so he turned back to the TV and flicked to a different channel. Another knock. It definitely sounded like his door but who would it be? Maybe one of the other actors? But they’d all heard him say he was going to have an early night, so surely not. Again Ben ignored it. The third knock got Ben out of bed, stumbling to the light switch and then the door, ready to politely tell whoever it was to fuck off and let him rest. “Sorry but can you not see the do not dis- Y/N? What ar-” Ben was surprised. Surprised you knew where he was, surprised you’d come there after he’d told you he didn’t want to see you, surprised that you were covering his mouth to shut him up. “You wouldn’t reply to my texts and I didn’t know if you’d listen to any voicemails I left you but I have something I need to tell you so that’s why I’m here.” There was a beat as Ben waited to hear what could be so important that you’d come all the way to Spain to tell him. “I love you.” He gasped but your palm was still over his mouth so he couldn’t say anything. It had to be a joke, didn’t it? But you didn’t look like you were joking. He waited, listening as you explained everything. It was wonderful to know you felt the same but his shock didn’t lessen. He’d been so sure about everything. So sure about how little you’d felt for him, so sure you would have understood why he needed space. And now you were here telling him the exact opposite? It was unfathomable. Maybe it was a hallucination? Maybe he’d got a concussion when he hit the wall too hard earlier. Does concussion make you hallucinate? But blinking didn’t make you disappear and the hand against his mouth felt real enough. “I’ve missed you so much, so fucking much, and all I’ve wanted is to see you again and hear your voice and hug you and I’d really like to date you for real, or at least be friends again because not having you in my life is complete shit.” Ben felt tears prickling his eyes as he realised how backwards he’d had it. You loved him. You. Y/N. You loved him so much you’d flown to Spain just to tell him. “That’s all I had to say,” you said softly, pulling you hand away. Ben staired in disbelief for a moment but you looked as if you were fighting the urge to run for it and it brought him back to his senses. “Thank god,” it was all he could think to say as he reached out to hold you, pulling you tight against him and kissing you the way he’d wanted to kiss you for so long. Relief flooded his system when you kissed back. He didn’t have to forget you or force himself to move on. It had been an impossible task anyway. He was glad to stop trying.
 It’s only when someone makes a noise further down the corridor that he lets you go, asks if you planned to stay, lead you inside and towards the couch. There were things he needed to clear up first, before he could let himself be fully happy with the situation. He looks at you properly then. You look tired, worn out. He’s not sure if it’s from the late hour or the flight or because you’ve not been sleeping properly but it makes him feel guilty that he upset you. He hates that he pushed you away and wasted months trying to get rid of you when you’d both actually wanted the same thing, to be together. But you’re here now. He reached out to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, almost dizzy with joy that he could do that. “I’m really sorry for how I acted,” You smiled softly as you took a seat and Ben fell into the spot beside you, unable to take his eyes from you. He lets you lead the conversation, trying to sort out his mess of emotions as he explains himself. I thought if I told you I’d never been into you, acted like it, then I could make it true.” “Did it work?” “Of course not,” How could you ever think it would work? That he could just forget you so fast, after he’d fallen for you so hard? “Which is why I pushed you away.” You nodded, seemed to understand where he’d been coming from. He hesitated before reaching out to grab your hand again, a little afraid of touching you lest you turn to smoke and vanish. But you didn’t. He stifled a yawn, hoping you wouldn’t take it as his disinterest in the conversation. He’d stay up as long for as long as it took to go over everything, no matter how tired he was. “Has there been anyone else?” “Anyone else what?” “I saw a thing about you dating again,” That was surprising, not what he’d expected you to bring up. He hadn’t even realised it had been reported on. But he shook his head, explained about his friends encouraging him to move on. It seemed to satisfy you because you leant on his shoulder, let him hold you. He apologised when he yawned again, about to suggest he put a pot of coffee on so he could keep talking. But then you suggested going to bed and he had to agree.
 As soon as his head hit the pillow Ben knew he’d fall asleep fast. Even with the excitement of your arrival and the buzz of joy you brought. He kept his eyes on you. Everything seemed too good to be true. You grabbed his hand and placed it around you, shuffling as close as you could. “You’re actually here, yeah? I’m not just dreaming it?” Ben asked, voicing aloud his biggest worry. “I’m here Ben.” She’s here. In your bed. “Don’t leave, okay?” “I won’t.” She’s here and she’s staying. “I love you,” he needed to say it again, to make sure you knew that he still felt the same. “I love you too,” It was comforting to hear you say it again too, made his heart burst as he kissed you again. He didn’t want to stop but he was much to tired to do anything else. Still, he fought sleep for as long as he could. He’d lost so much time being apart from you that, now he had you back in his arms, sleep felt like a waste of precious hours. Hours he could spend kissing you, being with you, making sure you felt loved. He couldn’t fight it forever though, eventually had to give up. The last thing he saw before he shut his eyes was you, smiling at him, as you lay beside him.
                                                      ***
It had been a long day what with moving you into his house. Even after the boxes were inside and everyone who had been helping out had gone home, there was still a lot to do. Everything needed to be unpacked and put away. Ben had been clearing space on all his shelves and in all his cupboards to fit everything you’d brought with you. Plus there was new furniture from Ikea to unpack and construct. Like the chest of draws he’d been working on before he got up to stretch his legs and grab a glass of water. He caught sight of the magazines that had been left in the kitchen and, chuckling at their stories of marriage and babies, stacked them in a neat pile before he grabbed his drink. As he walked back through the living room he saw you, curled up on the floor beside the box you’d been working through. “Y/N?” Ben shook your shoulder to wake you, trying not to laugh as you blink at him groggily, still half asleep. “Alright, cuddle bunny, up you get. Time for bed, yeah?” “But the boxes,” you argued though it was unenthusiastic and slurred with sleep. “The boxes will be there tomorrow. C’mon, come with me,” Ben half carried you to the bedroom and helped you under the covers, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead before heading back to the draws he was halfway through building.
 By the time he was finished putting the draws together Ben was feeling fairly tired himself. He moved the spare screws off the floor so no one would step on them and then headed back to the bedroom. You were still there, sleeping soundly. Ben paused in the doorway to look at you. It was a sight he loved, you in his bed. The first time you stayed over and slept in his bed rather than the guest room had been a monumental occasion though the novelty of it had worn off a bit now, especially with how frequently you’d stayed at each other’s places before the move. But still, he’d never get sick of seeing you beside him, where you belonged. Same as he’d never get sick of making you tea or trying to convince you to eat an actual breakfast or making you laugh. It was in that moment, leaning against the doorway of the bedroom you now shared, one wall lined with boxes of your belongings yet to be put away, it was then that he knew he wanted to marry you. Have a family with you, spend his life with you. He’d go out and buy a ring once you were moved in properly, though he could hear his friends telling him to wait a little longer, see how everything was living with you first. But that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have to give it to you straight away after all. But he knew that was what he wanted with you. And now that you were together, after so much time and trouble, he never wanted to let you go.
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