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illfoandillfie · 4 years

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5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Just Go With It

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: Ben's confession left you stunned but how will it effect your overseas trip to promote the movie? Especially when you have to share hotel rooms with him. And will you let him talk you into meeting the one other person who knows the whole truth of your situation?

Warnings: Same old same old, bit of angst, sexual references but nothing explicit (yet), mentions of smoking

Words: 8908

A/N: This chapter was originally going to have another bit at the end but, once again, I prove how bad I am at estimating word count lmao. Anyway, that just means an extra chapter.

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

It felt like hours before you could move though the clock on your phone insisted it was only minutes. Ben was right, you couldn’t leave. But you also weren’t sure you should stay. So you dithered on the spot. The notion of sneaking out the back, though people’s yards until you were clear of the paparazzi’s notice popped into your head, but it wasn’t really an option. For one thing your dress was not made for sneaking, not that you could have pulled it off even in a full cat-burglar costume. You took a step towards the doorway but there was nowhere for you to go so you moved back to the couch and sat, perched on the edge. Right where Ben had been moments before. The seat was still warm. You stood up again. Doing nothing was worse than trying to decide what to do, so you began pacing. One end of the room to the other, trying to clear your mind enough to come up with a plan but not enough to think about what Ben had said. You lost yourself in the rhythm of your movement, the soft pad of your bare feet on the wooden floor, the slide as you turned on the ball of your foot and then the steps again. “Y/N,” Ben’s voice startled you to a standstill, the sudden lack of footsteps louder than the pacing had been itself. You turned to face him slowly. He looked smaller than normal. There was a spot on his lip that had clearly been bleeding, torn as he worried it with his teeth. His brow was creased, his mouth turned down. Still in the same clothes, though they were ruffled, probably partly your fault. “Hi,” it was all you could think to say. “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,” he gestured vaguely towards the front door, “haven’t left yet, I thought you might like a cuppa.” “I didn’t think you drank tea,” “I don’t really, but you do.” You nodded and follow him toward the kitchen, though there was still the urge to run. Ben busied himself pulling out mugs and sugar and milk, boiling the kettle, as you took a seat at the counter. He didn’t say anything more until he was standing on the opposite side of the bench, your mugs between you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” “I get why you wouldn’t have wanted to. I wouldn’t have wanted to either.” “Yeah but still,” he took a breath and stared into his mug like there was some sort of answer hidden in it, “I know you’re thinking of leaving as soon as that lot have cleared out but please don’t. 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 looked so worried and sad that before you could second guess yourself you reached across the bench and lay your hand over his, “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,” his voice was heartbreakingly soft and his eyes were pleading, shimmering with near tears, and if you hated anything it was that he could think such a thing. “I could never.” You knew exactly what you’d do, how you’d comfort him, if this was about anyone but you. But it was about you and you weren’t sure if it would be overstepping or making things worse to do it, “Can I hug you?” As soon as you saw him nod you were off your chair, around to his side of the bench, wrapping him up in your arms. His shoulders shook and you felt the damp of tears against your neck, but you didn’t mind, you just hugged him tighter.

You had to tell him to shut up after he’d let you go and immediately begun apologising for it. He smiled a small half-smile and nodded, letting out a slightly shaky breath. “We should get some sleep.” “Probably,” he sighed, “Does that mean you’re staying?” “If you don’t mind.” “Of course not,” Truthfully you felt too exhausted to think about going anywhere. You wished Ben goodnight and headed towards his spare room, that had really become your room, as he was filling a glass with water. With a start you remembered the flowers he’d given you and backtracked towards the front door to get them. They weren’t in great shape, slightly wilted, some stems bent more than they had been when they’d been given to you. All the same you picked them up, carried them back to the kitchen. Ben had gone but there was a tall glass jar on the drying rack that he must have been intending to recycle which made a fine enough vase. You carried them carefully back to your room and placed them on the bedside table before you changed and turned out the light.

The next morning neither of you brought up what happened. He was already awake and cleaning up after his breakfast when you got up and stumbled into the kitchen. You paused in the doorway, but he turned and gave you a single nod and asked if you wanted a coffee. There was an unspoken agreement to pretend that everything after you got out of the car at his place hadn’t happened. You were both tired and drained, but it was easier to write it off as a small hangover than admit to what had actually kept you up late. And, though there were a few slightly awkward moments, slip of the tongue phrases and hesitant touches that might have led somewhere if you let them, it wasn’t hard to fall back into your regular routines as if nothing had changed. The next month passed more or less incident free. You saw Ben as much as you ever had but it was never under the instruction of your agents, just spur of the moment trips to cafes or casual visits to each other’s places while neither of you was working. The tabloids were all over you anyway, there was no need to organise special dates or anything like that. You just made sure to let them see small intimacies that they could read as romantic – fond looks across tables, hands resting close enough to touch. Generally, away from the cameras, you maintained a respectful distance, the only acknowledgement of what had happened that night. Occasionally you allowed yourselves to get closer, a warm hug when Ben found out he’d got the part in the action movie he’d auditioned for, him brushing hair off your face as you sat in the sun reading. Whenever it happened you were left with a tightness in your chest and the overwhelming urge to kiss him again. It confused you, the way just thinking about him made your heart beat faster, how you couldn’t stop thinking about what it had been like straddling his lap with his hands squeezing you under your skirt. If you’d put your symptoms into google it would have turned up pages of information about crushes and compatibility, but that couldn’t be right. You couldn’t actually fancy Ben. Yes, okay, maybe there was some attraction there, but he was an attractive guy and you weren’t blind. You’d known he was handsome since you first saw him at the audition for Edith but that didn’t mean you wanted to jump his bones. It didn’t mean there was any substance to the thoughts. It had to be the job playing tricks on you. Afterall, it had been months since you started pretending to date him, months without so much as considering another person. Your brain was suggestable at the best of times – the nights you’d spent thinking about sleeping with Ben were testament enough – but now, with the knowledge that he was in love with you and having gone so long without anyone else’s affections, it was no surprise you were getting confused. And then there were the rules. Behaviours you’d ruled out. You’d broken about half of them just in the one night. You really only had Rules 5 and 1 still intact. No families, no sex. And humans were infamous for wanting what they couldn’t have. You couldn’t have sex so that’s why you kept thinking about fucking Ben. It wasn’t that you actually wanted to fuck him. It was just the situation, a combination of weird circumstances making you, for want of a better word, yearn for him. If only you could talk about it with someone. You were sure if you just talked though it with someone other than your own idiot brain you’d be able to prove it was situational, for sure. But Ben was the only one you wanted to talk to about it and he was absolutely off limits. It would just get his hopes up, make it harder for him to move on and eventually crush him when you turned out to be right. So you kept a polite distance.

The most interesting thing to happen all month was an in-person meeting with Ben, Peter and Mary to discuss the plans for the promotional tour. If either of them sensed anything was amiss between you, they didn’t mention it. Instead they spent the meeting raving about the success of the story and outlining what was to happen next. “Obviously, you’ll need to share hotel rooms.” “Is that really necessary?” Ben asked, glancing over at you. “Well you have to admit it would look odd if you didn’t, but I understand the concerns.” Peter said, though he’d have no way of knowing the full reason for Ben’s reluctance “You don’t have to worry though. The suites you’ll be in will have a secondary roll out bed that stores under the main one or, if that isn’t comfortable enough, there’ll be a couch as well.” “You’ll also be doing all your interviews together, aside from a couple of phone interviews that will be one on one and a few larger ones with the rest of the cast. The others will be either paired off or in a group for their part of the promotions. Except Claudia, who has a conflict in her schedule that means she won’t be able to join you in the US.” “So, it’ll start here with appearances on a few breakfast TV shows and then a day spent meeting journalists from magazines, newspapers and some entertainment blogs. Then you’ll head out to New York. We’ll email your flight details through to you, but it’ll be an early flight, first class naturally. You’ll have the day you land to yourselves to get settled but it also gives us extra time in case of delays with the flight. After that it’s back to business. Day one is another junket with various American publications and websites. You’ll have to take a few photos but mostly it’ll just be the interviews. The next couple of days are the same but it’ll all be recorded to post online. There’ll be more specific interviews that are a bit spaced out but I’ll get to them in a minute. After you’re done in New York then you have another flight to LA where the process will be pretty much the same. So, specifics. You’re booked to do a few radio interviews in both cities, as well as some more online content.” Peter checked his notes, “The puppy and thirst tweet interviews with Buzzfeed, the autocorrect interview with Wired and also something with Vanity Fair,” “Career timelines. One from each of you, filmed on the same day.” “Thank you, Mary, anything else?” “Vanity Fair also want a sit down interview with the both of you for their website. Plus we’ve got you onto James Cordon and Jimmy Fallon so you’ll have to record those episodes. And then, once you’re back home there’ll be a few more interviews for youtube channels and the like, and GQ are lined up to talk with Ben. It could be a cover; we’re waiting on confirmation. And I think…that covers it,” she snapped her notebook shut. “What sort of questions are going to come up?” you were curious how much of your romance was going to be off limits to the interviewers. “We don’t know specifics but you’re likely to be asked things like how this role was different to others you’ve done, um, what the director was like,” “No, I get that. I more meant questions about us.” Mary thought for a moment before she spoke, “There will of course be some questions relating to your relationship but nothing that any other couple wouldn’t want asked. It’ll be kept to respectful, non-intrusive questions about how you met and working with each other. If any questions are raised that you don’t want to or can’t answer you can always say you’d rather not talk about it.” “You’ve got nothing to worry about. The thing is, if we let anyone ask anything that would be considered too personal, everyone is going to work out that this isn’t real. So it’s in our interests and the studio’s interests, as much as yours, to keep everything above board. Sound good?” “Brilliant, thanks.” “Any other questions?” “Will we have much time off?” Ben asked, “I’ve got a couple of people I wouldn’t mind stopping in to see, if I get the chance.” “Of course. There’ll be some off time between interviews later on in the week and you’ll have most nights free. We’d like for you to go on at least one sit down dinner date, just the usual sort of thing, you know the drill. But other than that you’re free to spend the time that you’re not doing publicity however you want.”

The breakfast shows suited Ben more than they did you. He’d always been an early riser. Though even he admitted having to be up by five in the morning more than once in the week was not what he’d have chosen. But they were a good way to ease into the press tour. They never lasted long, and the questions were always easy and always the same. It was an early indication of which questions you’d receive again and again, the ones you were bound to grow board of. “So, can you give us a quick rundown of what this movie’s about?” “Well we play Andy and Edith who have just gotten engaged and, at the party, decide that, since they’re so good at the whole relationship thing, they should play matchmaker with their friends.” “The only problem is the friends don’t necessarily want to play along and it causes some problems for us.” The plot rundown was always followed by a short introduction to your characters. Then there was always a question aimed at Ben about how different Andy was to previous rolls he’d played. And then a question for you about what attracted you to the role. If you were lucky you’d get a few about the process of filming but more often than not they seemed to be running out of time and skipped straight to the last questions which always revolved around what it had been like to work with each other and how your relationship transfer to real life. The first time you had to answer it was a little awkward. You stuttered over your words and Ben wasn’t much better, but you got through it and by the time you were asked again you had your answers sorted. As predicted, you were able to pull those same answers out during the first junket day. Occasionally you’d get something different. One of the entertainment magazines did a quickfire quiz with all their interviewees which made a nice change, though you were sure your slow answers were because your brain had turned to mush during all the other repetitive moments. By halfway through the day you and Ben had begun playing games to keep yourselves entertained. You’d make bets for small change over dumb things like what the next interviewer would be wearing or how many times you could use the word romantic in a single interview. A few photos were taken, some just you and Ben, leaning against each other or gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, some with the other cast members which were fun. They broke up an otherwise fairly monotonous day. But it was only the beginning of what would turn out to be a rather long few weeks.

Felicity dropped you to the airport the morning of your flight, fussing over you as if you were moving to the other side of the world rather than visiting. She gave you a tight squeeze in the drop off zone wishing you luck and promising to collect your mail and water your few houseplants in your absence. “Tell that boyfriend of yours to look after you. If anything happens to you it’s his dick on the chopping block.” “You’ve not even met the poor bloke,” you laughed, “he wont have any idea why a mad woman is coming after him.” “Well that’s on you for not introducing me.” “Good thing you’ve got nothing to worry about then.” “I know. He loves you too much to let anything happen to you,” You had to force yourself to keep smiling at the reminder, still dealing with your mixed-up brain and confused desires. Eventually you managed to extract yourself from Felicity, promising you’d text her as soon as you landed. With a final hug you turned and headed inside. Ben was waiting for you a little inside the door, where you’d agreed to meet, both of you falling into your roles easily for the sake of whoever was watching and taking photos. It wasn’t until you were at security that you could drop hands and breathe freely again. Together you headed to your gate, stopping for coffee along the way, and met up with the rest of the cast, as well as the publicists who were organising the trip, which let you subtly put some space between you and Ben. It was fun, or at least as fun as sitting around an airport could be, and when your flight was called you all got up in an excited babble, making sure everyone had the correct bag and ticket. “Now, no funny business you two,” Alfie said pointing a warning finger at you and Ben, “save it for the hotel room.” You rolled your eyes and Ben laughed, both of you assuring him there’d be nothing of the sort. “Maybe just don’t use the bathroom after them,” Amber suggested with a wink. “I think the bigger worry,” you said, “is that Ben’ll try and squeeze in a sneaky smoke. I’ve never seen him go a full twelve hours without one.” “Bullshit! She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Your seat was beside Ben’s in the middle of the cabin and gave you plenty of space to spread out and get comfortable. A wall wrapped almost completely around the two seats to give you some privacy which was nice though you were sure you’d have to endure a few more jokes about what mischief you might be getting up to. But that was a train of thought you definitely did not need to be on. Especially when you literally couldn’t get away from Ben. You shook your head and looked around, waving at a couple of the others as they were led to their own closed off seats, but the image of what might happen were you actually dating Ben stuck. A flight attendant came around offering glasses of champagne as well as pyjamas, slippers and an amenity bag. You gladly accepted the drink, hoping it would help you relax more. “You’re not a nervous flyer, are you?” Ben asked quietly. “What? Oh, no, definitely not. Just…excited to get going.” “Good. I’m not either but I do get a little tense with the landings. So if I like, seem off towards the end of the flight that’s probably why.” “Thanks for the heads up,” you laughed, “if it helps I’ll let you squeeze my hand.” You instantly regretted the offer, inwardly cringing, but Ben was gracious enough to pretend he hadn’t heard it. Instead he opened his amenity bag and began examining the contents, pulling out a tube of shaving gel and giving it a sniff. Thankfully, the rest of the flight went smoothly. Ben was the perfect buddy for such a long flight. Calm and prepared, a host of potential time killers packed into his carry-on luggage. Shortly after take-off, he offered you a controller from his Nintendo Switch so you could play a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. It caught the attention of the others and you ended up sharing the controllers round in a tournament style battle for victory. A little later he pulled out a magazine of puzzles, inviting you to help him solve crossword clues and crack codes, your heads together as you leaned over each page and bickered about how to spell the answers. But he was also equally happy not talking, letting you do your own thing while he did his. It made you glad he was okay with just being friends. You did love him, just not in the way he meant, no matter what Felicity and your stupid subconscious said, and if you’d had to miss out on everything that came with being his friend because of this one thing, it would have made the whole situation ten times more distressing. It was rough enough as it was. When it came time to sleep Ben raised the privacy screen between your beds. You knew it was for the best and you wouldn’t have argued about it, but you couldn’t help the pang you felt, like you were being shut out. There had been a time when he would have offered to cuddle, even if it was said jokingly. But of course he wouldn’t now. You wished he would though. The discomfort of an unfamiliar bed with all the odd sounds and smells of an airplane made it hard to settle completely, but you wondered whether being able to cuddle Ben as you drifted off wouldn’t have helped. He was warm and familiar, and you associated him with your home as much as his. Perhaps that’s the sort of comfort you needed.

You landed around eight in the morning and were greeted by a couple of drivers which took you straight to the hotel. The excitement came back as you all compared suites, trying to work out who’d got the best one. Yours and Ben’s was the biggest, but only because there were two of you, and it ended up being designated the official party room. Not that you had the opportunity to party much. The first day was mostly spent unpacking and fighting the urge to go to sleep way too early. You and Ben took a walk, hand in hand just in case, to explore the area, making note of nearby bars and restaurants. You’d half been expecting to be swamped since the US was notorious for having particularly intrusive paparazzi but there ended up only being a couple following you, no more than you’d been dealing with back home. Ben made a joke about EastEnders not cracking the American market, but whatever the reason it wasn’t unwelcome. The others joined you, all yawning, for a dinner provided by room service and a quiet drink to toast the trip and the movie that had brought you all together. When they’d all cleared out, headed gratefully to their own beds, you and Ben flipped a coin for who’d get the bed on the first night with Ben winning out. It wasn’t too bad, the roll out bed. Not as soft as the main bed but with how exhausted you felt you didn’t really notice. After that it was down to business. The first few days were all pretty much the same. Wake up, earlier than you’d have liked, always beaten by Ben. Shower, get dressed, head downstairs to grab a coffee and watch Ben eat breakfast, listen to him offer you a bite of his toast and remind you of the importance of the meal, and then back up to your rooms were a black screen and a large print out of the movie poster had been set up behind some chairs. The games you’d began playing with Ben during the first lot of interviews in London continued because it was a quick and easy way to not lose your minds when you had to answer what drew you to the romantic comedy genre? for the hundredth time. A lot of the interviews blurred together but there were a few more memorable moments. One overenthusiastic woman entered the room and immediately began flirting with Ben. He smiled politely and shook her hand but you could see how uncomfortable he was and swung in to rescue him, introducing yourself to her. He whispered a quick thank you as you took your seats but she wasn’t completely distracted. “This movie. I’ve gotta say it has everything – I laughed, I teared up, the shirtless scenes,” she fanned her face and laughed, “Y/N, what’s it like working with this man. I mean, he’s gorgeous for a start.” You felt Ben tense up a little beside you but lay your hand on his reassuringly as you leaned forward and let out a giggle, “Obviously I agree. I wouldn’t have let him take me out on our first date if I didn’t. Plus he’s a total sweetheart, always knew how to keep moral up when we were shooting late and, professionally speaking, he’s one of the best people I’ve ever worked with. He always had really interesting ways to explore the characters and just made sure we had fun on set. Honestly, I can’t imagine having done this movie with anyone else.” “And I think you’re forgetting how gorgeous Y/N is,” Ben said, catching on, “I tell you, this woman looks stunning the second she gets out of bed. And she kept me on my toes for the whole shoot. She gives everything she does 110% and I think you’d have to agree that it shows in the final product.” “Aww, thanks babe,” “You’re welcome, cuddle bunny.” After the woman had left you bust out laughing about how uninformed she’d been about your relationship considering the look on her face. It helped you ignore how warm you suddenly felt. But she was the only uninformed one. Everyone else who came in had at least one question about what it was like to date the person you acted with. Did it make acting as a couple easier? (“A lot of the time, yeah. Although those scenes where we were fighting were a bit tough. I hate seeing her upset.”) Not to spoil anything but there’s one seen where Ben’s character Andy hooks up with someone else, was that hard to watch? (“I mean, we’re actors. We’ve both been doing this for a while and y’know sometimes you have to kiss someone at work. It’s kinda odd but it’s also pretty normal for us and we both understand how it works.”) Normally we end our interviews with a silly question about who your celebrity crushes are… (“I think you could probably work our answers out,”). Thankfully because there were so many to get through they moved quite quickly. You’d be out for lunch before you knew it and then it’d be time for a few more, often with the larger group or sometimes on your own. After the last journalist had left you’d go out for dinner with everyone else and maybe follow it with a drink at a nearby bar if you weren’t too worn out, and then I was back to your rooms to relax and sleep until your alarm woke you the next day to repeat it all over again.

It was a relief when the junkets ended, and you got to break the monotony of it all to record some slightly more interesting interviews. Ben was very little help during the Buzzfeed puppy interview – way too distracted by the balls of fluff climbing over his lap and attempting to lick his face to form a coherent answer to any of the questions. It was a cute sight though, the way his eyes lit up as soon as he met the dogs and how much he was laughing as he rolled on the ground with them. You were on the verge of suggesting you should get a dog when you remembered you weren’t actually living together, trying to clear the image of you and Ben snuggled up on a couch with a napping puppy across his lap. It was a little disconcerting how easily the fantasy had appeared, and it left you feeling out of sorts. If you’d hoped the next segment they had you record would distract you, you were quickly proven wrong. The thirst tweets were fun to read, mostly because you enjoyed making Ben blush so fiercely in payback for not answering anything during the puppy interview, but they could hardly be called a distraction. If anything, they just made you think about what else you could get up to, without the puppy. “Ben’s lips look like they were made to kiss…and not just on the mouth. Oh, um, well he is a very good kisser. Very very good. And, that’s all I’m gonna say.” You gave the camera a sly wink, already able to imagine how happy your agents would be and hoping Ben wouldn’t hold it against you. You glanced at him to check and found him covering the flush on his cheeks with his palms. He dropped his hands and looked straight at the camera, “God I hope my mum’s not watching. Sorry mum.” When you go back to the hotel you wished you had a separate room. The Buzzfeed videos, though short, took most of the day. You had to wait while the puppies were wrangled together and taken away, and then there were all the pauses to set up cameras and check mics were working. Plus you ended up filming a Q&A video about the movie as well. But not once did you stop thinking about Ben and what it might be like to actually date him. By the time you got back to the hotel all you wanted was to be alone for a little to try and sort out what you were feeling and maybe get yourself off. But it wasn’t to be. The others returned shortly after you did and bounced into your room to hang out. You had a few minutes after they went off to freshen up before dinner and Ben jumped in the shower but it wasn’t enough time and it took all of your energy to not think about joining him.

The next day was quieter with just two interviews booked, both with radio stations. You got to sleep a little longer and had a long break between commitments. Ben suggested you use the time to go on the “date” your agents wanted. You posted to your Instagram stories to make it look more legitimate, a selfie of you both on the street and then a shot of your drinks with Ben visible in the background “So I’m going to visit Joe tonight,” Ben said, glancing at you over his plate. “That’ll be good. How long since you last saw him?” “In person? Uhh, seven months I think, maybe a bit longer. But, um, you’re invited if you want.” “Me? Why?” Ben shrugged, “He wants to meet you.” “This is the same Joe that’s been leaving comments on your photos of us as if he’s jealous?” “That’s the one,” Ben chuckled. “The same Joe I heard you talking to?” “Mmhmm,” “And he was the one who suggested I come?” “Yeah.” The idea made you feel a little apprehensive, “Should I be worried?” Ben smiled to himself, “Do you want to come or not?” “Well I don’t want to intrude.” “You wouldn’t be, I swear. We’d just be having a quiet night at his anyway. He’s gonna make dinner or we’ll order something in and we’ll probably have a drink or two but like nothing outrageous. And it’s not a catch up visit because we talk all the time and he already knows everything I’m up to. It’s just a hang out, and probably the first of a few while I’m over here.” “You’re sure I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes?” “Positive. It was his idea so it’s not like you’ll be crashing.” That wasn’t hugely reassuring, but you said yes anyway, kind of curious yourself as to what he might have to say to you. Maybe he’d have something comforting to say about the whole situation with Ben.

That evening’s plans were on your mind for the rest of the day, though you shoved it aside to get through the final radio interview. Thankfully, the two hosts were funny and asked some questions that you hadn’t answered a thousand times already. “So, we’ve heard actors like to keep props from movies they work on as, like, souvenirs. Did either of you get to keep anything from The Perfect Match?” “I did,” you said, “Um, I kept Edith’s engagement ring.” “Really? You never told me that,” Ben said, clearly surprised. “Well I…shit I might be dropping myself in it here. I kinda didn’t tell anyone I took it,” Ben let out a bark of laughter. “It wasn’t a real engagement ring,” you hastened to add for the benefit of the audience, “just plastic but I got so used to wearing it and I wore it home on the last day of filming without thinking and I just…never took it back. If any of the crew are listening and have been wondering where it went, I’m sorry.” Ben was still laughing, “I can’t believe you stole the ring.” “What did you take then?” “Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head, “I’m not a thief like you apparently. And I didn’t think to ask for anything.” “Well, what would you have taken if you could?” one of the hosts asked. Ben thought for a moment, “Is it inappropriate for me to say the body pillow?” It was your turn to burst into laughter, “depends which version.” “Sorry, body pillow?” Both of the hosts looked at each other excitedly and then back to Ben. “Uhh, okay, so, no spoilers but there’s this one scene,” Ben started, “Andy’s a bit down because Edith isn’t there so his friends try to cheer him up by ordering a body pillow with Edith’s image on it.” “Yeah, but there were two versions made. The one that’s in the movie and one that was deemed, umm, a little too racy for the rating we wanted.” You could feel your face getting hot but it was partly the struggle not to laugh too much as you turned back to Ben, “So, which would you have asked for?” Ben shrugged, “Doesn’t really matter since I got the real thing.” The interviewers laughed at that, “Very smooth Mr Hardy,” “Clever answer.” You laughed and let them move you onto other questions but the thought stuck with you. Had he meant it? Or was it all for show?

Afterwards you returned to the hotel to kill time before you had to be at Joe’s place. Your mind was still racing with thoughts of what had happened during the radio interview and what might happen that night. Thoughts that were not helped by how worked up you were after days of pent up frustration. “Did you really take the engagement ring?” Ben asked, knocking you out of your reverie as he sat beside you on the couch. “Yeah, it’s sitting in my jewellery box at home. “Huh,” “What?” “Nothing, just uh, kind of funny that I drew it on your mug and you stole the real thing.” “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that but yeah, it is a bit funny.” “That thing about the body pillow was a joke, by the way. I wouldn’t have actually asked for it,” “I figured. But um,” He was sitting so close his thigh was pressed up against you, “Yeah?” You shouldn’t say it. It was just because you were horny and he was available and into you and you really shouldn’t say it, “Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if you’d kept it.” You licked your lips, noticing the way his eyes focused on the movement and didn’t shift away. “You wouldn’t?” “Maybe.” “Maybe it wasn’t so much a joke,” He was so close you could feel his breath on your face, and you had the desire to lean in and close the distance. You were half a second away from doing just that when Ben shook his head. “Fuck.” He leaned back, paused for a second, and then stood up, “We’ve gotta get ready to go to Joe’s.”

When you arrived at Joe’s place he greeted you wearing an old, navy blue apron over a t-shirt and jeans. “Benny boy!” he half yelled, throwing himself at the laughing blonde. “Hey Joe, this is, alright get off me, Jesus. This is Y/N,” “Hi, Y/N,” he said, still grinning as he held out his hand, “Lovely to finally meet you.” “Likewise,” you said with a smile, noting the way he glanced at Ben. He led you into the house saying something about checking the dinner and told you to make yourselves comfortable. Ben had no problem with that, heading straight for the fridge and grabbing out three bottles of beer. “Y’know you’re mean to eat this pasta with red wine, you uncultured swine,” but Joe accepted his bottle anyway. You took the one Ben offered you, mostly just to give you something to keep your hands busy as you took in the pale walls and clutter covering the benchtop – a mix of vegetable scraps and used dishes. Joe was instantly likeable, putting to rest any worries you’d had about meeting the one person in the world who knew the whole truth of your situation. You’d assumed Ben would have called him after you’d made out, and by the way he kept a close eye on your interactions with Ben you guessed you were right. But that wasn’t too hard to block out and you supposed he had good reason. He asked you questions over dinner, about yourself and your family and your work. And he made plenty of jokes, most of them at his or Ben’s expense. It was clear they’d known each other for a while, just based on how they acted when they were together and you could see why Ben would have confided in him. All around it was a very nice evening. Or it was for the most part.

After dinner, while you were working on a bottle of wine Joe had insisted on opening, Ben excused himself to have a smoke, leaving just you and Joe at the table. As soon as Joe heard the door shut behind Ben he leaned in, more serious than you’d seen him all night. “Don’t hurt him.” “I’m sorry, what?” you asked, not sure you’d heard right. “Ben’s told me everything. I know how he feels about you, I know you overheard him when he was talking to me, I know about the fight and what happened after the makeup date. I know everything. And I am begging you not to hurt him.” “I’m not going to.” He sighed, tilting his wineglass slightly, playing with the stem, “I’ve known Ben for a few years now. I’ve seen him crushing on someone, I’ve seen him drunkenly flirt with people, I’ve watched him ask someone out and then move on when they said no. I have never seen him this hung up on someone.” You went to speak but before you could Joe held up a hand and continued. “He’s not going to let on but he is white knuckling it at the moment. He’s been attracted to you since you first met, I have the texts to prove it. The day your situation was proposed he called me, as soon as he’d got home from work. He told me all about it, asked if I’d ever been offered something similar or if I knew someone who had. I didn’t believe him at first but he insisted it was real and asked what I thought. Of course, I told him it was a bad idea if he had any sort of a crush on you. The next day he sent me a message that just said I fucked up. I think he’d originally planned to ask you out at the end of the shoot but then he volunteered to torture himself instead.” “That’s not my fault,” “I’m not saying it is. I’m just trying to help you understand where he’s at because I know he won’t have told you. He’s pretending he’s getting over you, that he’s moved on from whatever weird little hiccup he had. But it’s not true.” Joe paused, turned towards the door, but when he heard nothing he kept talking, “I’ve been watching him all night. The way he talks to you, the way he looks at you. He’s still in love you and this press trip is killing him. Do you like him?” “If you’ve heard everything then you already know,” you said, ignoring the way your insides squirmed. “I’d like to hear it from you,” “No. I don’t like him. Not in that way.” Joe watched you intently, frowning, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you said, hoping it sounded more certain than you felt. Joe sighed again, “If that’s true then you’ll understand why I wanted to have this conversation. Please don’t toy with him.” Your mind jumped straight to that afternoon when you’d nearly kissed him again and you felt guilty, “It might come as a surprise to you but I do actually care about Ben and I really am trying not to overstep or make this harder for him. And it’s not so easy on my side of it either” “I know, I can see that. All I’m saying is to be careful. For his sake.”

You were still thinking about the conversation as you lay in bed that night. What exactly had Joe seen in the way you and Ben interacted that made him determined to say something? Why, when you said you weren’t into Ben, had he said if that’s true, like you were intentionally lying about your own feelings? And god the butterflies you’d felt at the suggestion he might have asked you out. What the fuck was that about? Was it because you liked the idea or hated it? Or was it some in between thing where you really hated it but practically living with Ben had clouded your judgement until you thought maybe it’d be okay? You suddenly felt desperate for the trip to be over. At least that way you’d be able to get some personal space back, be able to think without Ben there on the other side of the room all the time. With a sigh you rolled over to face the wall and tried to sleep so you’d be ready for another day of press. The next week and a half was full of interviews with online content creators and radio stations you’d never heard of before. But at least they weren’t as monotonous as the earlier interviews had been. Ben visited Joe again a few times which you were grateful for since it meant he was out of your hair for a while, but you rarely got the time to yourself, the others usually setting up camp in front of the TV in your suite. Then it was time to pack up and fly to LA to start the whole process again. Another two days of junkets and then more spaced out press. You did the autocorrect interview together, took a quiz about romcom quotes on James Cordon’s show and ranked your favourite romcoms on the radio. And then it was back to London to finish the publicity. Straight from the airport to a hotel, already set up and waiting so you could meet with some entertainment vloggers who had missed out at the beginning of the tour. You sighed when you realised it was going to be another day of the same old questions and bet Ben that you’d have to repeat the story about almost breaking your leg during the engagement party ten times. He took you up on it but only because he thought it’d be closer to twenty. Ben called in a room service order for coffee and you both crossed your fingers and hoped you’d make it through before the jetlag really kicked in. “God you’re lucky you’re done,” Ben said once the last interviewer had left, “I’ve still got fucking GQ tomorrow.” His voice turned into a whine, “All I wanna do is sleep,” You had to laugh as he pouted, “Poor Benny,” “Yes, poor Benny. I’m so ready to just sleep in my own bed and have a long, hot shower in my own bathroom.” “And a wank without being interrupted,” if you’d been less worn out you would have stopped yourself from saying it. “All this time I’ve known you and I’ve still not managed to pull your mind from the gutter,” Ben tutted, clearly equally as exhausted since he didn’t even flinch at the suggestion. “If anything I’ve pulled you down with me.” “You’re a horrible influence,” You both fell into laughter, further proof you needed some rest, but it felt good too. You only stopped when one of the publicists came over to let you know you were free to go. “Alright, cuddle bunny, I’ll see you later, yeah?” Ben pulled you into a hug. “Let me know how GQ goes. I’m gonna get Thai for dinner tomorrow night so if you wanna come chill at mine, that’s totally cool.” “Thai sounds really nice,” “You don’t have to,” you suddenly realised what you’d offered, “we were just talking about wanting time alone so whatever,” “Hanging out with you wasn’t the problem, it was how busy we were. But if we’re just eating takeout and watching Netflix then I’m there.” “I’ll make sure to get the large pad Thai then,” “I’ll bring the diet coke.”

The trip had given the tabloids a lot to work with. You hadn’t kept up to date with it all while you’d been away because you’d been promoting the movie but, once you got back home, you found yourself checking on them more regularly, filling in the spare time by scrolling through twitter or Instagram. There were photos of you at the airport, photos from the streets of LA, gifs and screencaps from interviews you’d done, posted by fans yelling about how cute you were together. The way Ben had described you to the flirty reporter was reposted over and over with pleading face and heart eyes emojis and comments about finding a man like that. Miniscule looks you’d shared without noticing were slowed down in gif form and posted as proof of how in love you were, how wrong anyone who suggested you might be fake were. By far the most commonly occurring one was the thirst tweet video. You saw it shared over and over and over. You were tagged in fanfics inspired by it, in which Ben ate you out until you were an overstimulated mess. It was odd and you’d never have admitted to reading them but it was definitely entertaining and not too far from some of the things you’d imagined yourself. But going back to living on your own didn’t help your confusion the way you thought it might. You missed seeing Ben every night and every morning, couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened if you’d kissed him. And you were fast running out of excuses for why. It was one thing to blame the situation when you were sharing a hotel room, practically forced to spend most of your time together, and playing up the relationship for the cameras. But now, in the comfort of your own home, when you and Ben could freely choose when and how often you saw each other, it was much harder to justify how often you thought about him, how badly you wanted to return to that night on his couch and just let it happen. And the more you spent time with Ben, the harder it was to keep from admitting you might actually have been wrong before. Maybe there was something there, though Joe’s words stuck in the back of your mind making it hard to admit it to yourself. You got quite good at telling yourself it was just physical. You loved Ben as a friend and a small part of you wanted to spend the night with him. That wasn’t so unusual. Friends slept together all the time. Maybe if you could sleep with him you could stop thinking about him. Maybe he’d stop thinking he was in love with you too. You laughed at yourself the first time it occurred to you. It was ridiculous and stupid and so unlikely to help…but maybe. Maybe you could make a deal with the universe. Just this one thing and then you could be done with it all.

You came to regret that little notion, came to curse the universe for listening to you. Ben and you had decided to go out for coffee when his phone rang. He excused himself to answer it, leaving you to your slice of brownie as you waited for him to come back. When he did he was frowning. “What happened?” “Uhh, okay. You remember that,” he glanced around and lowered his voice, “that rule we have about not meeting each other’s families? Yeah, I don’t think we can hold them off any longer. That was my mum. See, there’s this big family reunion next week – and I mean big, like all the cousins and great aunts and uncles and grandparents and fucking everyone. We have one every few years, book out this restaurant slash beer garden for a whole day and basically just have this big family piss up. And, um, when my parents heard I was dating you, they extended the invite to you as well but it was like a few months ago and I said I didn’t think you’d be able to make it but now they’re insisting and I tried to say we weren’t ready to meet each other’s families yet but they’re calling bullshit on that because as far as they know that was part of why we had the fight but then we fixed it and also I might have said I was meeting your parents to get out of a lunch I didn’t want to go to.” He said everything so fast you could barely keep up. “Wait, you told them you were meeting my family to get out of a lunch?” “Maybe. But that’s in the past Y/N. Our problem is happening next week.” “Shit,” “Yeah. It’s…I can try and tell them you’re busy that day but I’m pretty sure they’ll just ask again and then we’d be stuck having dinner with just mum and dad and maybe my brother. This way we get it over and done with and if there’s more people we should be able to sneak out earlier.” “Yeah, no, that makes sense.” “There’s just one other little thing.” “What?” “Well, my family live a couple of hours away from here and I’d kind of originally planned to stay overnight in my old room because otherwise I’d have to worry about how much I’d had to drink and if I was able to drive back late at night and it’s just easier to stay there and head back the next day.” “Oh, well, I mean I don’t mind staying over. Um, would we have to share the bed or…?” “Maybe. It’s not like the hotel where we had a whole second bed but I’d be fine sleeping on the floor for a night or we can divide the bed with pillows if that’s easier. I could try looking into other accommodation but Mum’d probably kick up a stink about us paying for it when she’s got a perfectly fine room on offer.” “If you’ve already said you’d stay then we might as well stay. Wouldn’t want her thinking I’m so high maintenance I can’t stay one night under her roof now would we?” Ben laughed, “I don’t know, it’d stop her from inviting you over again. You swear you’re okay with this?” “Yeah. We knew something like this might come up.” “Alright, I’ll let her know you’ll be there. And I’ll buy you dinner tonight to make up for it.” You smiled and said that was a fair exchange but you’d suddenly lost your appetite.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #finally got this edited to a point where i think im happy with it #hope you like it #it's all building to something good i swear

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