#They are literally bowing in the same pose but Reversed I am crying

[thyandrawrites]

Had a sudden realization

They're both theater kids

[forever-rogue]

Unintended Consequences - Part 5

Summary: Y/N and Ben had been best friends since the day six year old Y/N dropped her ice cream in front of Ben and he had offered her his. The rest is history. Until Ben went to Hollywood and disappeared for five years, before suddenly waltzing back into Y/N’s life with one simple request.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your support on this story! I hope you guys continue to enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it! Taglists are open! Please let me know what you think, or if there are tag issues! xx

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (get a snack!)

Warnings: slight language

MASTERLIST

“How do you get used to this?” Y/N narrowed her eyes as spied a few people shamelessly starting at the two of them. She stuffed the bite at the end of her fork into her mouth, doing it so aggressively that the metal clinked against her teeth. The sound and feeling enough to make her cringe as Ben snickered at her, attempting in vain to hide his smile. She wanted desperately to roll her eyes, but decided against it since people were already scrutinizing them.

“You get used to it,” once he finally calmed down he shrugged innocently, not even bothering to look around and see who was watching his every move. It had become so second nature, so normal to him, he paid it no mind, “just don’t acknowledge them.”

“They’re just staring and taking pictures,” she hissed at him, trying to adjust herself so she was behind him and no one could capture her. Ben raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of coffee. He used to be so awkward and abhorred getting his picture taken, but apparently five years had changed that. She let out a small sigh and hung her head, “do they do this all the time? I hate it already; I feel like I’m under a microscope.”

“People are always going to be watching, Y/N. They’re going to judge and criticize every single thing you do,” he set his cup down and leaned in closer so only she could hear him, “they’re going to talk and say things, and you’re going to see it. The thing to remember is that they don’t matter. Their comments don’t mean a thing.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not a soft little bitch,” letting out a long breath, she bit the inside of her cheek to try and hold back some more smart remarks. She’d never been extra sensitive, but it was going to be hard to ignore people blatantly talking about her online. But if Ben had gotten used to it, she supposed she could over time. If she was going to be in this for the long haul, she didn’t have much of a choice, “I guess I’ll be good and try to ignore them all. If people do say anything, I guess it’s not a good idea to start fights with strangers on the internet.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” he agreed giving her a ghost of a smile, “not a good plan to get on anyone’s bad side. Unfortunately, all you can do is smile and take it with a grain of salt. Have more dignity than other people.”

"Wow, thank you Dr. Jones for your insightful advice,” she cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn’t push the issue. He was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She grabbed a forkful of egg and shoved it into her mouth, chewing each bite thoroughly to avoid talking to him anymore. Couples had silent breakfasts with one another, didn’t they?

“If you get uncomfortable or scared, just let me know. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” he commented and she could already picture the scene - people herding after them and her tucked under his arm, trying not to either cry or start a fight, “just-”

“Don’t start a fight with anyone,” she acknowledged his sentiment before pouting at him, “you know, I used to have to protect you and that ended up in fights. Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“When was this?” he teased lightly, “we’ve only known each other for a few days…unless you know something I don’t?”

“Oh hardy har har,” she pretended to jab him with her fork, “didn’t know you were going to be so damn serious about this thing.”

“You get what you ask for.”

“How about a reversal of the last five years?”

“Touché,” he murmured in a defeated tone.

“Sooo, I just gotta sit here while you do...your thing?” she asked quietly, looking around the intimidating studio. Ben looked at her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, but she looked utterly like a deer caught in headlights. Ben had an interview to do, accompanied by a photo shoot, and what loving, caring, girlfriend wouldn’t accompany their boyfriend to such a thing?

“It’ll be okay, lo-” he stopped himself as she gave him a sharp glare. He awkwardly cleared his throat, “most people are super nice. They can show you around and get you settled in. Or you can leave if you want...I can give you my card if you want to go shopping…”

“I don’t want your money, Ben,” she immediately scoffed at him, crossing her arms over chest. He nodded, hanging his quietly, almost embarrassed, “besides what you’re paying me for the job. I’m not here for your handouts.”

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it…” he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair that would shortly be styled and teased and coiffed into submission for the photo shoot, “I was just offering.”

“‘s okay,” she closed her eyes for a moment before a slight sense of guilt set in; he had looked so upset when she had snapped at him. As annoyed as she wanted to be with him, she could tell that he was trying his best, “look, I-I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that-”

“Ben?” a pretty woman holding a camera came up behind him, tapping gently on his shoulder, clearly trying her best to not interrupt what she considered to be a private conversation. He closed his eyes and let out the lightest of sighs before turning on his heel, his plush lips forming an almost believable smile.

“Yes,” he stuck out his hand to her, and she took it gingerly, eyeing him up and down and trying to deduce the relationship between him and Y/N.  Sensing the minute tension, he stepped back so the two women were facing each other, “this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” she shook Ben’s hand quickly before offering it to Y/N. An annoyed look crossed her features as she anticipated Y/N’s response. Y/N had been in his same situation a few times before, she knew what was happening: the woman was sizing her up, marking her a competitor. She knew it would be coming at some point, but she hadn’t realized it would be so soon. People really were that crazy for over Ben.

“The pleasure is all mine,” she lied through gritted teeth, taking her hand and delicately give it a few shakes. She wasn’t about to bow this intruder, “are the one that’s going to be photographing my boyfriend? Or is your boss coming soon?”

“I am the boss actually,” she let out a throaty chuckle, her tone almost sickly sweet as observed her. Ben’s eyes were wide as his head whipped back and forth, like he was watching a tennis match as the two women tried to assert dominance, “were you planning on staying and watching or do you need to go and do whatever it is you do?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she wished she could just tell her actually this is my job. But instead she decided to remain civil, not wanting to cause a scene or do anything that would require a lecture from Ben later, “I’ll be staying here. Don’t worry, I won’t interfere with your work. I’ll let you carry on.”

“You can head to the green room if you’d like,” she seemed all too eager for Y/N, ready to get her hands on Ben and have be in her exclusive control, “there’s monitors back there so you’ll be able to see everything.”

“Thank you,” her tone was calm and even, but the fire that was inside her was raging and wild. She wasn’t trying to be defensive over Ben, and never thought she would be, but it appeared, she had been terribly, terribly wrong. Ben was hers, at least for the time being, and she wanted to make sure everyone knew that. Possessiveness wasn’t her MO, but there was something about the photographer that rubbed her the wrong way.

“My assistant can show you the way,” there was a smug little smile on her face as a man came over to get her. Y/N tilted her head to the side and give her a tight lipped smile. Just before walked away with the assistant, she turned to Ben, put her hands on shoulders and gave a soft, but passionate kiss, knowing everyone was watching them. It took Ben a moment to respond,  but his hands immediately went to her waist and he added a couple more pecks in; whether or not it was for show, she wasn’t sure. But she hated that she liked it so much, the sweet peppermint taste of him lingering in her mouth.

“Goodbye my love,” she touched his cheek softly, “I’ll see you soon. Don’t have too much fun.”

“B-bye,” he stammered after her, his eyes wide as he started at her retreating back. The photographer huffed slightly, a pout on her face as she grabbed his arm and lead him over to the makeup and wardrobe area. Her sights were still honed in on Ben, who gave her no more than polite interest, but she was willing to work for it - too bad she didn’t know that he literally only had eyes for one other woman - Y/N.

Popping another m&m into her mouth, she watched the screen that displayed Ben and photo shoot intently, scrutinizing every move either of them made. Ben remained calm, relaxed as he was told what to do and how to pose. He’d been through his paces plenty of times in the last several years, and he was all but used to it by now; he looked pretty and someone took pictures.

It was just making her grow more irritated as she watched the other woman all but drool over him, eyeing him up and down like he was her prey and she was the hunter. Rolling her eyes to herself, Y/N chewed on her candy aggressively, causing her teeth to gnash together in a grating manner.

“Fucks’ sake,” she rubbed at her jaw, now annoyed by the lingering feeling of tooth on tooth, and how touchy this woman was. Knowing it would only drive her more crazy the longer she observed them, she pulled out her phone and starting scrolling through the endless mess that was Instagram.

Quickly tapping through the stories that awaited her, she was about to look through posts when she noticed that she had several messages waiting for her. Much more than she was normally used. Curious, she thought to herself as she clicked the small airplane with the red notification, letting it take her to her inbox. Her jaw dropped when she the hundreds and hundreds of messages and requests starting back at her.

“How?” she asked no one in particular, as the room was empty save for her. Hitting the newest one, she frowned when she saw that it was someone that had decided to call her a gold digging floozy. She snorted at the message as she quickly denied the message request and blocked the girl who looked to only be a young teenager. She’d been called a lot of things in her time, but this was a new one.

Following suit and reading some more of the messages, it didn’t take long before she noticed a pattern; it was loads of girls and women, and a few men, calling her all sorts of names, accusing her of only being with Ben for his fame and money. It had been less than a week and already the hate had started. He hadn’t been kidding when he explained that people would be cruel and vicious.

As much as she wanted to message some of these people back, especially the ones that had decided to be very bold and forward, she stayed her hand and just deleted them all. It was almost a mystery to her how people had identified her so easily, but in this day and age, it really wasn’t too much of a feat.

Searching Ben’s name and looking through the tags, it didn’t take long before she stumbled upon photos of the two of them; at the grocery store, out for an evening walk, strolling hand in hand, out at breakfast just that morning. Some of these people were really like vultures, capturing their every move and posting it for the world to see.

Although she knew it would only annoy her more and press all of her buttons, she selected one of the photos of them on a walk, and started reading through the comments. For the most part, people seemed intent to remain respectful commenting on the fact that Ben looked happy, and wondering who the girl with him was. Others though were the exact opposite. They called her a miserable cow and claimed that he looked more sad and tired than he had in a long time.  

They shouldn’t have gotten to her, but they did; she was only human after all. This was going to take some getting used, she already knew, and for once in her life she was thankful for the thick skin she had developed over the years. My skin has turned to steel she reminded herself. 

The only action she decided to take was to make her account private and change the settings so one could tag her. It probably wouldn’t stop people from trying to come after her, but it provided the smallest sense of relief for the time being.

“Maybe you could take your shirt off?” her voice was nails on a chalkboard to his ears, and he wished he was anywhere else but his current situation. She had coerced him into believing she was going to be like any other photographer, professional and courteous, but she had quickly proven him wrong, “you know that will drive the ladies wild.”

“I think I’m okay without doing that,” he didn’t want to argue with her, but he wasn’t about t let himself be backed into a corner and felt like he wasn’t given an option, “I don’t think this particular shoot calls for that, does it?”

“I wasn’t aware you were the artistic director for this shoot?” her voice was almost saccharine as a half smile worked its way onto her face, one eyebrow raised at him, “I don’t want this to come off as rude or condescending, but you do realize that people aren’t going to be buying the magazine for your interview, right? They want to look at you, your body, your face. That’s the money maker right there, sweetheart, not your words.”

“That’s a bit crass to say, isn’t it?” he subconsciously pulled his shirt tighter on his body, vehement that he wasn’t going to strip any further just for her pleasure, “do you speak this way to all of the people you shoot?”

“Just the ones that it applies to,” she shrugged as she put her hand on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently, “are you going to do it, or should we just cancel this whole thing?”

Y/N wasn’t able to hear their exchange from the monitors that were in the green room, but she could tell easily tell that things were heading south, and quickly. Ben had never been one for confrontation, and it was apparent to her that he was struggling to stand his ground, the body language he exuded gave him away. Don’t interfere she silently reminded herself, but each passing second made it that much harder. She had always protected him, putting her own neck on the line to save his hide when necessary, as he had often down for her as well.

There was an unreadable expression on Ben’s face as he flinched back when she tried to touch him. Almost jumping out of her set, Y/N had decided enough was enough as she stormed back out to where the altercation was taking place. She didn’t even bother to try and be silent as she stormed in the room, a surprised expression crossing both of their faces.

“Back off of him,” was all she said as her eyes narrowed and she protectively reached out an arm to put a block between them. The photographer set down her camera as she sneered at Y/N, almost rolling her eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” she laughed, trying to decide who was currently annoying her more, “are you going to fight me?”

“I would,” Y/N nodded, taking a step closer to Ben and lightly pushing him behind her back, “but you’re not worth my time. He doesn’t want to take his clothes for you, and he won’t. Leave him alone about it and do your job like a professional.”

“What a strong man,” she let out a devilish laugh as she shook her head at them, “can’t even stand up for him and has to have his little girlfriend do it. You’re pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic,” Y/N countered, ready to throw down if she had to, “taking advantage of someone you’re working with to try and get them to strip. Are you that desperate that you need to use your job to see a naked man? Not only is that pathetic, it’s extremely unprofessional. I’d watch your step if I were you, or you’re going to have a tough time finding work.”

“Is that a threat?” she spit out, growing nervous along with annoyed. Most people normally just did what she said and didn’t bother to fight back, until today that was.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” she spat, grabbing Ben’s hand and starting to drag him away, “you’ll use what you have. You’ve been drooling over him long enough...and rest assured if I ever see you do this to someone else, you will rue the day. You’re a foul, loathsome, evil little -”

“Come on,” Ben tugged on her hand gently, trying to diffuse the situation from escalating any further. Y/N opened and closed her mouth a few times, holding back her true feelings as she realized he was right, “come on, love.”

“Better go on and take care of your little puppy,” in that moment there was nothing Y/N wanted to do more than to punch the woman, and wipe that smug little smirk on her face.

She didn’t say another word, but mumbled to herself, fuming silently after Ben. She had let her temper get the best of her in her rush to protect Ben. Worry flooded her mind as she realized the gravitas of her actions, and the possible consequences that could flood back to them.

Ben remained silent and stoic as he changed back into his regular clothes, and she wondered how he would react. She didn’t bother to hold her breath and think it would be a positive response, but it was too late to go back and change anything.

“Are you just going to give me the silent treatment forever now?” she tested the waters lightly, biting on her lower lip as he pulled on his shirt. She averted her eyes slightly, trying to give him his privacy. It felt odd; she had seen him shirtless hundreds of times in the past, but it all felt so different now.

“Thank you,” was all that came out of his mouth, and he finally brought his eyes to hers. Conflicting emotions reflected in them, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should be pushing her against the wall and making out with her, or getting annoyed that she had interrupted his work.

“I-I’m sorry,” she awkwardly said as she rubbed her arm nervously, waiting for the inevitable but, “I shouldn’t have butted in like that. You’re a grown man and can handle your own business...I just...I couldn’t stop myself. It was like all the times we were kids and I just saw a glimpse of that little boy who would get so worried and scared.”

“I figured,” he said with a small laugh after a few tense moments of silence, “I appreciate it though, really. Even now, all these years later, I still need you to defend me apparently. I guess we’re just better together…”

“I know women, and men, like her. She’s a predator, but will always act the victim,” she shrugged off his last comment, “and I wasn’t about to let her do that to you, or whoever would been in that situation.”

“Whatever the case,” his heart fell a little bit as she immediately tried to downplay her feelings for him. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to tread into the territory just yet, “thank you. You took this one for the team.”

She gave him a curt nod, and contemplated telling him about all the messages and comments she had received. Not even a word had come out before Ben nudged her gently, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing-”

“Y/N.���

“Fine,” she admitted defeated, “people on Instagram are already going wild. They’ve sent me messages, posted photos of us, and have overall been complete dicks. I’m trying not to let it get to me, but it is tough.”

“I don’t know what to tell you besides I’m sorry,” he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, “it doesn’t make it any better, but it’ll get easier over time. And after a while people will tire of us. Just try your best to ignore them...and if it gets terrible, let me know and I can deal with it.”

“I know this doesn’t help much,” he suggested, pulling her along with him as he headed for the door, “but how about we go home and start packing for LA? We’ve got a couple days before we leave, but it’ll be better to get a head start...and we can do takeaway or some thing easy for dinner?”

“Movie night with blanket fort?” she blurted the words out before she could fully comprehend the importance and significance they held. Movie nights were sacred tradition - the last time they had one had been right before he left her for five years. Was she really ready for a redo?

“Maybe not…” he said quietly, trying to gauge her reaction, “we can save that for another time…”

"If you grip my arm any tighter I think you might break it," Ben was amused at look on her face as she clutched on his arm, the most panicked expression on her normally serene face. It took her a moment to process but when she did she let out a small breathe and loosened up her grip just ever so slightly.

"I hate this part," she whispered, eyes darting around the cabin and watched people who refused to listen as they already started moving about to get their carry ons. The plane had finally landed after hours upon hours of flying at LAX, and she was more than ready to be off and done with this flight.

“You hate this?” he chucked gently, but the way she glared at him spoke volumes. He wasn’t a big fan of flying either, especially not the long transatlantic flights, but he had gotten so used to them they were all but second nature by now, “this isn’t even the worst part, love.”

“I hate the landing, I hate the waiting around while everyone gets impatient and starts moving around…I don’t know it all makes me anxious,” she admitted, shrugging lightly as she unwittingly burrowed her head into his shoulder, trying to block out the people around them, “I just want to be back on the ground with my own two feet firmly planted already.”

“it’s just a few more minutes,” he said quietly, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together. Parts of her wanted to tear her hand away, annoyed with how comfortable she had gotten with him over the last week. In some ways it was almost like they hadn’t been apart at all; like there was never any large passage of time between when they had last seen each other.

Her heart ached for that familiar close bond, as he had been the only that had been by her side over all their entire youth, but a part of her was still hurt and angry. It was inevitable that there would be a time when they came to the discussion of what had happened in their lives while they were apart, namely hers, but she was trying to push that as far back as possible. For the time being, she was okay with getting to re-know him, to learn about him again, and find out all the new things he had adapted into. He gave her a hand a small squeeze, “don’t worry, Y/N. I’ve got you. Soon it’ll be all sunshine and beaches here in sunny California.”

“It doesn’t look so sunny,” she pouted as she glanced out the window that was currently being barraged by droplets of water. They’d had better weather when they had left England the day prior. The irony of feeling a gloomy place to come the golden state where it was supposed to be eternally sunny, “perhaps it’s a sign we’re not meant to be here….”

“Or perhaps it’s just the weather?” he joked, “besides we’re going to be here for a few weeks. I promise you’ll get your rays of sunshine.”

“And warm sandy beaches?” she chanced, craning her neck to try and see out the window. A vain attempt to try and see what the city offered, but all she was a slew of airplanes, and large, architecturally savvy buildings.

“And warm sandy beaches,” he promised, slowly starting to get up, pulling her up along with him. She was reluctant at first, but eventually gave in, knowing it should be a quick process, in all things went well, and she’d be back on solid ground soon.

“Welcome to California,” Ben said as soon as they stepped into the actual airport, leaving the long walkway from the plane behind. She felt like she could breathe easier again, relaxing a little bit as they slowly made their way through the crowds, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

Her eyes were darting around, unsure of where to look; there were so many new sights, sounds, and people all rushing around trying to get to their destinations. There were tons of people were tears in their eyes, hugging their loved ones, either reuniting or getting ready to leave one another. Going to an airport was always an interesting, almost cathartic experience, and she was unsure of how to feel. This trip was a new beginning in a multitude of ways and she was ready to accept that head on.

“Y/N?” Ben gave her a gentle nudge to try and snap her back into reality. She had been so bright eyed, looking at everything he almost didn’t want to interrupt her. She shook her head lightly before turning her attention back to him, “did you even hear a word of what I said?”

“Sorry,” she admitted sheepishly, so lost in her own fantasies that his voice had become all but a blur in the background, “what were you saying?”

“Joe’s meeting us here,” he reminded her as her rate increased in a little bit. He had told her that they would be staying together with Joe during their stay in LA, and she’d be lying if she said her interest hadn’t been piqued. She’d already heard a lot about Joe from Ben and was eager to meet him in person; but currently all she felt was a wave of nausea, “and picking us up. You did remember, right?”

“Of course,” she said quietly, anxious to know what his friend was like. He had worked in a way to replace her really; he was Ben’s best friend, not her. She’d gone through his various social media feeds and did some did recon on him on the sly, trying to learn as much as could about the man -  she really hadn’t learned too much about him except that he presented quite the enigma. He was attractive, to be sure, so opposite from Ben, but seemed to have a decent sense of humor, plus they shared the commonality of both having lost a parent. A morbid conversation topic, but it was something at least.

“He’ll love you, don’t worry,” he did his best to calm her down, knowing hoe nerve wracking it was to come to a new place with new people all around – he’d done it himself a few years back. As they grabbed their luggage and started heading out of the baggage claim area, she noticed a few people looking at them curiously, no doubt recognizing Ben, but luckily most seemed unphased, probably so used to seeing celebrities.

Looking towards the doors where she could see people reuniting and gathering in groups, when she spied a pale, lanky ginger eagerly looking around the droves of people, holding a sign that displayed Benny and Co. There wasn’t single doubt in her mind that this was the one and only Joseph Francis Mazzello. His face lit up as soon as he spied Ben, almost dropping the sign as the two men all but ran towards one another.

“I’ve missed you mate!” Ben said as he threw his arms around the other man, hugging onto him tightly. In reality, they’d only been apart a few weeks, but they made it seem so much longer. Y/N stood there awkwardly, wondering if he was going to introduce them or if she would have to do it herself.

“I’ve missed you too,” Joe sighed dramatically, if only he knew how long she had waited to be reunited with Ben. He jokingly ruffled Ben’s already messy hair before coming to his senses and spotting Y/N. 

His breath caught in his throat as he took her, looking tired and slightly disheveled from all the traveling, but still managing to be more beautiful than any woman he had seen in a long, long time. Turning to her, he took a step closer and held out his hand to her, butterflies erupting in his stomach, “I-I’m Joe. I presume you’re Y/N.”

“I might be,” she teased as she took his hand and shook it gently, noting how soft it was. She felt a wave of her nerves wash over her under his gaze and tried to keep herself from becoming a completely giggly loon. She didn’t know what it was, but even just his simple touch, had set off sparks throughout her whole body. She hadn’t felt that type of feeling with anyone in a very long time, “it’s nice to meet you, Joe. Ben’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good things I hope?” he asked as he reluctantly let go of her hand. Ben looked at the two of them, trying to gauge their interaction as he noticed that both of them were acting slightly different from what he had anticipated.

“That’s neither here nor there,” she countered, earning herself a bellowing laugh from Joe. Alright, she admitted to herself, she was already smitten with him, the laugh being like music to her ears, “but don’t worry, it was all good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” his eyes lingered on her lips for a moment as he too slowly put two and two together and realized those were nervous jolts of ecstatic energy flowing through his veins, “if it makes it any better, Ben’s told us almost nothing about you. You get to start off with a clean slate. But any friend of Ben’s is a friend of mine.”

“Well, Joe, I guess that makes us the best of friends,” her heart ached a little at the fact he had neglected to mention her to them. But, in a small way it didn’t surprise her; but what was done was done.

“Indeed it does,” the smile he gave her was electric and she felt a little blush creep into her cheeks. They stared at each other silent for a few moments, both of them with goofy grins on their faces. Ben noticed what was happening and immediately cleared his throat, trying to get their attention.

“So, should we go or are we going to hang around here all day?” it came out saltier than he intended, but Y/N turned to him, embarrassed to have been caught as he made it a point to take her hand. Joe offered to take their bags and followed them out of the airport, hanging back a few feet.

He didn’t know exactly what was happening to him, but he knew he was already falling head over heels for Y/N. It take take about .02 seconds for her to steal his heart.

Little did he know that she felt the same way.  

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[kainablue]

LECTURE ME - Don’t Ask (part 1)

[Chain Reaction]  [Distracted]  [A Quick Smoke]  [Into the Wild]  [Heavy Rain (part 1)]  [Heavy Rain (part 2)] [Moonstruck (part 1)] [Moonstruck (part 2)] [On the House]

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Okay, wow, I have a small collection here! Yay! 

Here’s the next chapter (finally!) In case you’ve forgotten - this is a dirty little bundle of stories about a professor and his student (and some other peeps). You can read them in any order that you like (except for the ones with ‘part 1′ and ‘part 2′ on them - these chapters were too long and that’s why I separated them like this)

The first part is pretty safe. Only some profanities and a bit of thirst! Enjoy! 🍷

Don’t Ask (part 1)

Oliver

What a shitty day. And not just because of rain.

As if getting scolded by the department's secretary for losing the keys to my office - again! - wasn’t bad enough, a couple of students at my last lecture were particularly annoying. Two wiseasses trying to convince me that morality is completely unnecessary in modern times. I wanted to crack their shit-filled skulls with an iron bar. But I kept my cool, I did. Barely, though. And I wonder was it really worth it because now I have a fucking headache as if someone smacked me with an iron bar.

A familiar smell of petrol tickles my nose. My eyes dart to my dashboard - I’m almost out of juice. Fuck. I rub my throbbing forehead and wonder what the helI did I do for karma to punish me like this. 

Well - I can feel a smirk tugging my mouth - I haven’t been an innocent lamb jumping around the meadow, have I?

As I turn around the corner, two streets away from my home, a slight silhouette darkens my peripheral view. I would have missed Filipa if she wasn’t always on my mind. I do believe my brain is overstimulated and now I am hypersensitive to anything related to her.

I memorized the sound of her shoes walking over different types of floors. From the way utensils are positioned on a plate, I can recognize her leftovers in the dining hall. And I can sense her arousal by breathing in her sweat enriched with musk and floral perfume. Aaah, just the memory of that sex aroma, that perfect combination of refined and vulgar, is making me dizzy.

I pull over next to a willow tree bending over the gates like Juliet over her balcony. A shower started recently, a light drizzle, but strong enough to be annoying. Filipa is pacing, her head bowed down, carrying a box in her hands. Several rectangular stamps are one it. Oh, so she’s been to the post office. But why aren’t her packages delivered to the Academy's department office, like everyone else's?

I open the window. “Need a ride, pretty lady?”

Filipa lifts her head and stops, swaying a bit. There’s something odd. Was she— A tight knot of pain stabs me in the throat. Was she… crying? There are no telltale signs on her face, just… the feeling. Like when you see a famous actor on the street for the first time. They look the same but it’s not the character you know. Like another person. Like someone without a mask.

Filipa doesn’t avert her eyes (she’s never the first to buckle - never!) and approaches my car. A lovely, almost innocent smile curves her lips and the whole costume is back on - the mask, the robe, the hood – the girl I saw just a second ago has vanished.

She places one her elbow on the window edge and the other hand holding the mysterious box on the car roof, bending her back. There isn’t much happening at the front of her clothes: her flat chest covered by her school uniform with buttoned up shirt. But her skirt… I imagine it is now way up. As she lowers her upper body, adjusting herself to my height, the skirt is going up and up, slowly sliding above her knees and her thighs. Maybe even her ass. 

A passer-by checks her out from behind, looking under her skirt like a fucking pervert! 

That ass is mine! 

“We are going in opposite directions, professor.”

Her voice is creamy like always, with some light notes of mirth attached to the word professor. 

“How about a detour?” Really, why not? “Hop on. I have something to show you.”

Her eyebrow jumps in surprise and then joins the other one in vexation. A very different sounding words shoot me.  

“Seriously? Of all the cheesy lines you have, you are offering me 'I have something to show you' one? I know how your dick looks, Oliver.”

“But it’s a very fine dick, wouldn't you agree?”  The rolling of her eyes was expected but always entertaining. “No, something else, but not as big, I’m afraid. Come.”

“Where to?”

“My apartment.”

She tilts her head, amused. “Wouldn’t it be suspicious, professor: a young naive student and her mentor heading to his unholy den?”

“To earn her some extra credit.” 

I crack myself up sometimes. The absurdity of my statement even draws a low chuckle from Filipa.

“All right,” she sighs and pushes herself away from my car. I forgot about the box. Such a dull looking thing, wrapped in a brown paper, and yet she holds it like a treasure… The familiar static fills my brain clouding my every thought. Oliver, don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do —

“What’s in there?”

You. Fucking. Did. It.

If eyes could make a sound, hers would be hissing at me.

“I should head back, professor.” And with that statement, heavy as a concrete block, she proceeds to march towards the Academy.

I fucked up.

I put my Ford in reverse and start to follow her.

“Fine. I’m sorry. Don’t tell me what’s in your damn box. Let’s go.”

She doesn’t stop. There is no other person who can blank you like Filipa can. I turn off the engine and take a deep breath. She won’t like this. Not at all.

I get out, leaving the car door open. In several big steps I catch up with her and immediately block her way. Because she was walking with her head down, probably protecting her eyes from the rain, Filipa headbutts my chest. I touch her upper arms but she springs backwards. She clenches her package and snarls like a monkey holding stolen goods. The ire in her eyes is so forceful I freeze. 

We stand like that for a few moments. Rain is dripping down my face and dampening my shirt. It's cold. I swallow a lump. Filipa is all wet and beyond pissed now. Why do I get horny when she looks like she wants to massacre me.

“Come on, doll. I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

She hardly blinks. Rain is getting heavier by the minute and she… isn’t bothered even the slightest? Blinking is for the weak, and Filipa is everything but weak, I laugh inwardly.

A much lighter expression takes over Filipa’s features. Not necessarily a good thing. She shifts into a more relaxed pose. 

“Beg.”

Not what I expected. “Okay, please.”

“No. I mean… beg.”

Oh. 

Someone could fucking see us! I turn around: luckily, the street is empty, but that can change in a second. And far more importantly - my clothes! Crap! I stare down at her. I could literally scoop her up and carry her to my car, but… She wouldn’t just kill me then, though; she would literally crush me into a lump the size of a marshmallow and eat me.

The resting bitch face in front of me is unforgiving. I know she doesn’t care. She will just leave if I refuse. And… I don’t want that. Just like I wouldn't want any of my nails pulled out with rusty pincers. 

I take a deep breath in… and kneel. A humiliating wet cold enters my clothes and spreads over my knees and calves. Fuck! 

“Please.” I stare at Filipa’s ugly, dirty shoes, gritting my teeth. Someone will see us! And then I’m screwed! “Please, please, please.”

Filipa is silent. She is enjoying this so much, I just know it. Murky water around my knees is restless from the raindrops hitting it. But I can somehow make out two faces: one pathetic, with eyes wide open in apprehension; the other, upside-down – and victorious.

Her foot moves up, water dripping from the shoe sole. The dirty, worn-out tip has a shallow scratch - just above her big toe. 

"Kiss."

I swallow. I was expecting this.

Let's get this over with.

I close my eyes and press my lips on a dry patch, just above the scuff. The smell of mud and old leather tickles my nostrils.  

“Are you satisfied?” I croak. My head is flying from one side to the other, checking if someone’s approaching. This is so dumb and risky and… exciting. I suck on my lower lip. Fuck me and my sick, twisted brain! I want to bend even more, shove my elbows in this disgusting sewage water and lick her legs. I want her to place her hand in my hair and pull while —

A finger brushes along my jaw and lifts my head up. Filipa’s lips are curved into a poisonous smirk. Her smile is like a drug – a deadly line that boils my blood and ruins my life. And I need it all the time. 

All the fucking time.

“Very,” she whispers, a slight tremble in her voice. She really is. “Let’s go.”

***

Filipa

I expected Oliver’s room to be a bit more… chaotic. More bachelor like. More I’m-overwhelmingly-anxious-to-keep-my-job-but-also-uncontrollably-hedonistic-like. But it isn’t. 

His shoes are neatly aligned next to a hallway wall. The wooden floor is old but clean, not even a pebble stuck between the boards. No weird stains, no underwear on the kettle, no porn hastily hidden bellow a carpet. He has a separate bedroom, but I bet he even made the bed before leaving his apartment this morning. Smell of cigarettes is glued to every piece of furniture and I soon spot a full ashtray. But aside from that dirty metal container and a bunch of papers and books scattered all over the floor and any horizontal surface, this apartment is… quite neat.

“I don’t think you came here before?” Oliver moves the curtains and more grey light colours the room. 

“I haven’t.”

There are no pictures on the walls. I think they used to be white,long time ago when this house was built; but they are more creamy brown now. Years of tobacco using tenants did that, I guess. Except for one spot where colour is still unsoiled and almost completely clean. In the perfect center, opposite from the windows, there used to be a cross. Not a large one, nor particularly prominent judging by the shape. But it bothered Oliver enough to remove it.

“Have a seat,” he points to an armchair in childish excitement, “and get ready to be amazed.”

I humor him and take a seat. Right in front of me, taking up quite a large portion of the living room, is a… table? A desk? Huge tablecloth covering it falls down some unexpected curves. Not to mention the tabletop is set too low for any standard chair. And yet it’s also too high for a coffee table.

Oliver removes piles of books that were covering the top and, with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he asks: “Are you ready?”

This can only be something incredibly stupid when he’s so excited. I brace myself expecting to see a rocking horse or an overly complicated sex toy. I nod.

He takes the tabletop and lifts the whole thing in one swift move. Table cloth flies with it and for a moment Oliver resembles a magician uncovering a rabbit underneath a mystery box.

But there is no rabbit. Only a - bathtub.

Although,  I have to admit, a beautiful one. It is wooden and shaped as those old baths that you can see in period dramas. But this one is brand new and shining like a freshly licked candy. I stand up to get a closer look. It really is gorgeous. 

“You made it?”

“Yup.” This big man’s ego just got a bit bigger. “Touch it.”

I glide tips of my fingers along the rim. It’s like ice.

"I used seven layers of finish so it could be as smooth as glass," he trails off and zones out. For a few seconds I was almost able to observe his tiny thought monkey with cymbals taking a break from wanking himself and actually using his brain for a change. And then he spoke in enlightenment: "...for your lovely, precious, little ass."

I don't know what I expected.

"Lord Byron, step aside, you've been outshined."

Oliver chuckles. “I would be honored if your ass would be the first one to sit in it.”

I look at the bathtub again. Is there a trick? Will something happen? I hardly believe Oliver would do something to openly anger me, but to simply push my buttons for shits and giggles – yes. And I’m not in the mood for it.

“Come on, sweetie. You know you want to soak that wet and cold flesh of yours in a hot bath.” He shifts behind me, a towering presence of muscles and heat. Oliver kisses the top of my head. “I will wash you, my mistress.”

A purr escapes my lips in response to this deep, rich and velvety voice whispering in my hair. It would be quite nice to replace the moldy odor of this sad room to a floral scent of soap. Bliss overcomes me as I imagine warm water clinging to my body and the brisk air biting my flesh when I expose myself. Oliver moves closer to me. A slow shiver shoots up along the back of my thighs, where his legs are touching mine. And, of course, the idea of his hands gliding up and down my skin, feeling me, caressing me, teasing me in all the right ways - does sound divine.

“Fine, my beast. You can have your wish.”

~~~

[to be continued…]