#im sorry for not having much to say – instead filling the page with nothing but vapid wishy-washy wordz ..

[spookythesillyfella]

Hii <3 It's been a bit of a year for me so far, More than ever has it been really unnecessarily hard to live but I think in the last few days I've oddly felt comforted checking your blog? Granted I do get here late (Since I suffer anxiety checking my feed most of the time during the day) I get a sense of ease seeing your posts. I know that sounds like a lot of phony junk of words Considering the circumstances but I do hope you know that I really look forward to you.. It's been really hard to. Be there. Though you cross my mind a lot even when I don't expect it? Example. Earlier today when I was actually having a breakdown and having those (run away from home) thoughts, I saw our clock in one of the rooms and thought of you. WHICH SOUNDS REALLY STUPID AND NOT SO IMPORTANT IN THE MOMENT BUT I COULD HEAR DHMIS 2 IN MY EARS.. Making me sort of slow down a bit.. I never realized it until now that friends can be there for you. Even when they're NOT ACTUALLY THERE. Even in my several low moments lately there is these little glimpses of you and others showing up in my life. I don't know how it works.. How it seems so pointless/useless to associate internet friends with such importance but really can change so much of my empty colorless world.

What I'm trying to say is. Thank you Spooky- For everything you've done to change my world just enough. Through your artwork, Through your storytelling, Through your posts about Dobuno Awa, The pins you've shown me, The cosplay of Tony progress.. I know all of this seems not important to you and I'm not going to tell you how to feel but you have no idea how much you've inspired me to some degree. Even if I don't think I'll have a far future- To some extent you've still put some kind of life into my empty desolate world. I do hope someday I can draw you so many things, And I can just ask you questions all the time about everything.. Genuinely I just care about you a lot. Even if you might not believe that. Ilysm (Don't feel forced to reply. This is a huge inbox.. Didn't plan on sending it but I've been REALLY EMOTIONAL today and need to get feelings out that are positive for a change)

man ... thatz genuinely so nice of u . doll

i dont know how i can even rezpond to thiz ; itz not even that im struggling with my wordz a lot – ive been rendered speechless by the sheer emotion of it all

i find it VERY hard to believe that people not only remember me . but that they look at me in a pozitive light – im alwayz convinced that they dizlike my company or what i do

but i think ure one of the few people that i can GENUINELY believe when they say "spooky ur exiztence iz meaningful" ; i cant ever bring myzelf to disagree with u – you actually saying i "inspire u" and that "i brought life to an empty . dezolate world" makez me tear up . it truly doez

ive been struggling a lot theze past few dayz . and ive been a lot more inclined to push away people – both irl and online – but i can't help but find myzelf mizzing u every time i do ; uve motivated me a lot and i genuinely cannot strezz how much of what i still work for iz becauze of u – ur art . ur writing . ur characterz . ur exiztence already .. it fuelz me ... remembering that ure here to see it ...

in any caze ; sorry for not making a sufficiently meaningful anzwer – thought my wordz may not reflect the extent to which my love for u runz . u have a very special spot in my brain and in my heart <3

[lvrslvt3]

A SMALL CRUSH | w.lenney

main masterlist | yt masterlist | will masterlist

౨ৎ will lenney x reader

౨ৎ summary : reader has a small crush on her youtuber brothers best friend, willne.

౨ৎ warnings : alcohal

౨ৎ notes : can we pretend james drinks?? im sososos sorry but it’s for the plot!! also, i don’t like this but i neeedddd to post before i lose the plot

it started out completely innocent. you had of course knew of will through your brother james, however you never expected that you'd make a fool out of yourself before you'd even met him. it started with a clip that came up on your tiktok of will making a joke about you to annoy james, which you laughed at and liked. then slowly, but surely, your for you page was filled with will. you'd swipe by, liking some of the ones that also had james in them until you made a mistake one day. you liked just an edit of will.

you didn't even realise, the innocent small crush not making you think any deeper until you were bombarded with people posting the proof of you liking the tiktok. when james finally messaged you about it you wanted to hide and never show your face again but instead you said it was a silly mistake, and ignored james's teasing and just prayed that you would forget it about it.

and you did. until now, since you were finally meeting the man.

—————-

"everyone's going to be there, it will be fine!" james exclaimed while placing an arm around you, and you pushed your older brother away from you with a disgusted look. "that's not comforting, james." you grunted out as you finally made it to the bar. you sighed before walking in behind the man, hoping to hide behind his frame.

"james!" a male voice exclaimed, far too loudly for the setting, as you approached a full table. "how you been, lad?" the voice was recognisable even though you'd never heard it in person, will stood from the table to throw his arms around his friend. james spoke with him before turning to face you. "will, this is y/n, my sister."

"hey." you gave an awkward wave but he was on the receiving end of a genuine smile, your cheeks slightly rosy from the heat of the bar, the drinks you had while getting ready and mainly the presence of the man in front of you. he was taller than you imagined, and when he smiled you thought you were going to faint. he was gorgeous.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, and you tried to hide the way you flushed at him saying your name. he gave you a half hug before stepping away with a cheeky grin on his face, "it's nice to finally meet my biggest fan." he joked, and you groaned while putting your head in yours hands - debating your life choices.

"i swear to god i'm not a freak--"

"you don't have to defend yourself to me." will interrupted, leaning in slightly and putting a hand on the small of your back as he did, "i don't mind anyways, darling. promise." he then moved back to face the table as if nothing had happened, getting everyone's orders before setting off to get them.

will eventually came back and slid into the empty spot beside you, denying peoples offers of moving so he can get his original seat. he had even gotten you a drink, and you tried not to overthink how the small action made you feel too much. that grew increasingly more challenging though as he had settled his arms at the back of your chair and you could feel heat radiating off of him, and the bulge of his bicep was close enough that when you moved your arm you could feel it.

the whole night consisted of you subconsciously moving closer and the two of you accidentally falling into private conversation even though you were with a group of people. by the end of the night your small harmless crush had quickly developed into more. little did you know it was reciprocated, and had been from before you had ever saw the clip of him and james.

"do you think we could just pick him up tomorrow?" you asked will, looking at james who was stumbling out of the bar infront of you two, loudly saying bye to the rest of the group who were going the opposite way. "heavily debating it." will mumbled as he brought out his phone and ordered an uber. "where are you meant to be staying?”

"i was going to go back to the hotel." you told him. you had planned this trip last minute so the hotel was out of the way, which was why you and james had arrived after everyone else."i can help you with him, though, don't worry." you reassured him, but that wasn't the thing that will was upset with. "you're not going all that way yourself at this time." will said - matter of a factly. "you can come to mine."

you fought your smile, looking up to will. "if you really don't want to stay then i'll come with you to make sure you there." he added in, his confidence lacking a little, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. you shook your head, "as long as it's fine with you."

—————-

james lay heavily against will as you held the door open for the pair, locking it after them. "i'm gonna go get him settled. i know your luggage is all at the hotel but you can grab something more comfortable from my closet." he stated as he kicked off his shoes, and waited while james did the same but much slower.

"you sure?" you double-checked while also taking off your small heels, glad that you had the opportunity to get out of your outfit. it was cute, but uncomfortable. "whatever you want, don't be shy, darling." he glanced back at you with a small smile before manoeuvring himself and your brother to the bedroom.

so, since you had his consent, you found your way to his bedroom. it was tidy but clearly lived in from the cozy vibe it gave. you made your way to the closet - which was also perfectly organised - and grabbed sweat shorts and a hoodie. you then found the ensuite and changed before neatly folding your clothes and making your way back out to the living room.

will was in the kitchen, a smile taking over his face as came out, doing a small spin to show off your new outfit. "you wore it better to me." he admitted, and you awkwardly giggled as you stood at the other side of the counter. "he has water, medicine and a breakfast bar which is definitely not going to get ate."

"you know," you sat your clothes on a stool before leaning on the counter, "that is very kind of you to do." you complimented, smiling at the blush that took over his face. when he smiled, properly smiled, his eyes partially closed and you wanted to kick your feet at the sight. "it's nothing." he shrugged it off, "are you hungry? i'm not that tired so I was gonna make some food and watch something before bed."

you were exhausted but you weren't going to miss out on a vital opportunity to spend time with him. "sounds good." you smiled, and so you raided his kitchen with him before finally just settling on making some frozen pizzas. while they cooked will pulled out his couch to make it into a bed - deeming it would be comfortable as they'd be more space - before going to change into sweatpants and a hoodie.

while he did you added all the pillows and blankets you saw to the couch, and then put the pizza on some plates and moved your drinks to the coffee table. as soon as you settled down will appeared, and you gawked at him from the warm, dim light of his living room. "making your self at home, i see." he commented with a chuckle while settling himself down beside you and using a hand to ruffle his hair before moving his arm behind your seat again.

you shrugged, already eating the pizza infront of him as he picked a movie before joining you with an arm around you. you continued to speak as the movie began, falling into an easy atmosphere as you laid against him while eating.

-------------------

twenty minutes later, you were passed out. you tried to fight it but you couldn't help yourself, not when the warmth from the man beside you was lulling you into it. you had fallen into will in your sleep, and he looked down with a small grin as you laid on his shoulder. he fixed the blanket so it covered you fully before brushing away the hair from your face and eventually laying his arm properly around you.

he held you as you slept, even when you moved in your sleep under your head was on his chest. he kept you as comfortable as he could while he ate before eventually he too fell asleep.

-----------------------------

"what the hell did you two get up to?"

you grumbled, sitting up and peeking over the couch to see your brother emerge looking rough. "shut up." you spoke while glancing down at will, "some of us are asleep." you added, "and we didn't do anything, we watched a movie after getting you home." you explained to your brother who stared at you, debating if you were lying or not, before rubbing his eyes and stating he was going back to sleep.

you looked back over at will when you heard a small groan escape him, watching as he woke up with an annoyed look on his face - and you quickly realised that he was not a morning person.

"morning, sunshine." you snickered slightly as he looked over, his hair a mess. "morning, darling." the words slipped out quickly, but with the sound of his groggy voice you didn't mind the fact that he was closing his eyes again.

"is it okay if I make some coffee?" you questioned, and he let out a hum. "if you make me some too." you got up from that and began to find your way around his kitchen.

by the time you were almost done will had freshened up and made his way beside you, leaning on the counter. "how do you even move this early in the morning?" he asked, crossing his arms.

you tried not to stare and instead focused on the task infront of you. you shrugged, a small smile unable to escape your face as you finished up and handed him a mug.

"is that okay?" you asked when he took a sip, and he hummed with a nod. "perfect." he answered. you smiled, taking a drink from your own before settling it down.

"how did you get toothpaste on ur chin?" you asked with a giggle while, without thinking, putting your hand up to scrub it away. you didn't realise ur actions until you felt the heat of his skin underneath ur finger, and he sat his coffee down. "sorry." you mumbled while putting ur hands down.

"its okay." will answered quickly, and you fell into a slightly awkward silence. you stared at him as you thought of something that would continue your conversation. you were not willing to let your morning together end like that. “your skin is very smooth.”

will paused for a second, raising a brow before chuckling at you. "thank you?" he answered in a slightly confused tone, smiling widely at the red flush that overtook your cheeks. "you're very pretty."

"you really think so?" you lightened up, a cheesy grin on ur lips as you stared up at him. you could smell coffee, and him. it was amazing and if you could spend the rest of your mornings like this you would. "i know so, darling." he leaned closer, gaining more confidence at your reactions. "can i kiss you?" his voice rasped out.

he stared you down as you nodded, swiftly and without any other thought except from the fact that it was what you had been imaging from the moment you saw him in the bar.

"please." you murmured as he finally closed the gap between you two, his lips nettling on yours. he kissed you softly, slowly. you felt the world around you disappearing as a hand settled on the small of your back and the other on your hip.

you placed your hands around his neck to keep you from slipping away from the moment. this is all that mattered to you in the moment. this moment. his flat. his lips.

after a few seconds you pull away and you stare up at him, not letting him go incase he somehow got away. you giggle as he pecks your lips gain, feeling his smile against your face as you relish in the sensation of each other. it was something you wanted to consume you.

[mariistic]

THESE MARKS ACROSS MY NECK (TELL ME IM YOURS)

mari ibarra × fem!reader

synopsis: A cold night, lingering tension, and the sharp press of teeth—Mari always finds a way to leave her mark.

warnings: mari taking a page out of shauna shipmans book, biting, marking, jealous!mari, allusions to nat and reader, possessive!mari, extreme gay sexual tension, I know this is my second mari fic sorry yall she just looks so scrumptious this season.

The nights were still cold, but spring had started to soften the edges of winter’s cruelty. The wind whistled low through the trees, rattling the makeshift tents like a warning, heeding them that winter would come once more. You were used to it by now—the brittle shelter, the dampness that crept into your bones, the weight of another body curled beside you for warmth.

Mari’s body.

You weren’t exactly sure when the two of you had started sharing a tent, just that it happened. Maybe it was because Lottie’s group was too much, or Van’s tent was already full, or maybe… maybe it was just easier this way. Even if it meant the nights were filled with restless tension, the kind that simmered between you, waiting for one of you to snap.

Tonight felt worse than usual.

Mari hadn’t said a word to you since the sun had dipped into the horizon, not even one of her usual snide remarks. It was unlike her to hold back. But you knew why. You weren’t stupid.

She’d been watching you with Nat earlier.

You and Nat had always gotten along—something about the way she carried herself. Her sharp edges softened just enough around you. You wouldn’t call it flirting, but you also wouldn’t call it not flirting. And Mari… well, Mari had glared so hard it was a wonder she didn’t set the girl on fire.

You shifted on the furs, turning your back to her, waiting for her to finally say something.

She didn’t.

Instead, she moved.

A rustle, a shift, and then—heat at your back, her breath warm against your shoulder. You went still, muscles tensing as her hand brushed over your hip, fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes.

"You were with Nat a lot today." Her voice was low, almost casual, but you could hear the bite beneath it.

You exhaled sharply. "Yeah? So?"

Mari’s fingers tightened. "So… you didn’t have to be."

A scoff caught in your throat, but before you could say anything else, something sharp pressed against your shoulder.

Teeth.

You sucked in a breath, stiffening. Mari didn’t move away. She didn’t let up. Her teeth pressed harder, just shy of breaking skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt—not really—but enough to send a pulse of heat down your spine.

Your breath hitched. "Mari—"

She pulled back, just enough to murmur, "Mine." Then she bit down again, this time on the slope of your neck. A shiver ran through you. You weren’t sure if it was from the cold or her. Maybe both.

"You’re acting crazy," you muttered, though your voice came out weaker than you wanted.

Mari hummed against your skin. "Crazy enough to do this?" Her lips brushed over the mark she just made, then lower, her teeth grazing over your collarbone before biting down again.

Your fingers curled into the furs beneath you. "Mari."

She didn’t stop. Another bite, this time on the side of your throat. She was marking you, staking her claim, letting the bruises bloom in places no one else would see in the morning but you.

When she finally pulled away, her breath was uneven. So was yours.

"You get it now?" she asked, her voice quieter, rougher.

You swallowed hard. "Yeah."

Mari exhaled, satisfied. Then, just like that, she shifted back, curling into her usual space beside you, as if nothing had happened. The tension in the tent didn’t disappear. If anything, it was worse.

And you weren’t sure which one of you would break first.

[sappygentlemen]

PART FIVE. to my beloved, basement dweller

you know the drill.

TW: DARK, GORE DESCRIPTIONS, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS/ATTACHMENTS/BEHAVIORS. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION ☝️‼️

beep. beep. beep. beep.

".... do you think Sam will wake up today?.."

".......I dont know Quincy... im doing everything I can, but between, all their current injuries, their lack of a leg, the mass amount of VERY old injuries it seems, that never healed right..... i... i dont know Quincy."

".....its been 3 weeks........"

Quincy wanted to ask if Sam would EVER wake up... but he knew he couldnt handle the potential answer to that question. He chose to hold his tongue. even though Nate knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

sigh "i know Quincy. Im sorry.....Your welcome to stay, but i suggest you go hom-"

"Id like to stay.. please.... please nate.."

Quincys voice was wavering, cracked at the end. His previous sobbing evident in his hoarse throat and sniffles. The eye bags proved the lack of sleep hed been getting these past few weeks, but Nate didnt need them to know.. Nate had been Sams doctor since Quincy bravely rushed Sam to his mentor.. their next door neighbor.. Dr. Nate.

As Quincy stood, wobbly, but standing, Nate could do nothing but look at his usually lively and strong assistant, with sympathy, and concern. Hed promised not to look into the situation that caused Sams state, under a promise he made Quincy, that possibly went against everything Nate stood for, but a promise Nate intended to keep ,for Quincys sake nonetheless.

"very well. please have a shower though.. i know this is hard but, im sure your friend wouldn't want to see you suffer like this."

Silence fills the room. Quincy walks to the white, clean, neat hospital bed. Sams hospital bed. The same bed, hed been laying, un-moving, for 3 weeks. Sams condition was stable, and he was healing well, but he had remained in the coma, causing Nate to be concerned... concerned that maybe he would never wake up..

Though, he was interrupted and his attention was stolen, as he got an urgent code, not being able to say a proper goodbye to his former assistant, before he was rushing and running down the halls of the hospital. Quincy was understanding, he knew no matter how much Dr.Nate cared, he still had a job to do.

He calmly pulled a small book of poems out of his bag, as he pulled a chair up next to Sams bed, making sure to avoid all the wires. He had read this book to Sam everyday, since the second day of Sams hospital stay, when Quincy made a trip home, to pack a bag of stuff.

"this was always your favorite book.. you used to read it to me, remember?... i hope you can hear me reading it...im trying my best to do get all the voices right.."

The silence in the room is interrupted, by a cracked, hoarse, sob escaping Quincy's throat, as he chuckled lightly, whipping away his tears with his jacket sleeve.....more specifically.. Sams jacket sleeve...

"everyone knows you were always the best at that...i hope im doing just as good for you."

Quincy sighed, putting the book down. he hated crying while he read the book of poems, afraid to get his tears on the precious pages. Quincy held onto Sams larger hand, before laying his head on s\Sams lap. letting the tears flow silently as his mind recounted these last three weeks.

He had visited his house, and his Brother, once every week. to grab supplies. The first time he went home. he was bombarded by his older brother, though, he couldnt bear to look Declan in the eyes. He fought Declan, proving he could hold his ground, and that he was no longer the little baby brother Declan once knew. Instead, he had grown into a man. A man who promised himself to be better then Declan or his Father could ever hope to be. He loved Sam like a father, and losing Sam gave him all the strength he could never muster, to finally stand up to Declan. When he left Declan, he had made sure to leave his mark on that house, and Declan himself, without even being physically violent. he had destroyed every gift hed ever received from Declan, including, the most valuable, and meaningful... his beloved piano.

Declan was of course, devastated by Quincys absence, and "betrayal", but Quincy could care less. Quincys last piece of pity to his older brother, came in a promise, a promise to never spill Declan and Sams, dark secret. But, the promise came at a cost. Declan could never speak to him or Sam again.

As Quincy laid his head on Sams soft lap, covered in a soft fleece blanket, that Sam had loved dearly. Quincy finally looked up, and out the window. it was dark outside.... he hadnt realized hed been here this long... maybe he would take a shower in the morning.... just a quick one. but for now. he need to sleep. Crying for so long made his body weak and his head heavy. Quickly setting up a little space beside Sam, on the bed, as he did every night, and began squishing his small body, into Sams side, not moving Sam, too afraid to worsen his condition or mess up a wire. Eventually, as Quincy calmed down, next to Sam, he began to slowly drift off.

Not noticing the figure behind the hospital curtain.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, met with an entirely sore body, a weight on my side, and a horrible migraine. There is an extremely annoying in my ear. god damn beeping.

I slowly blinked and looked around to my left, seeing Quincy laying in my side, peacefully curled up, head on my chest. so thats where i was. a hospital. such a smart boy, i leaned my head down, pressing a kiss to his forehead, slowly and painfully moving the hand underneath him, out from under him, and then draping it over his body, instantly relaxing his tense form, as, even in his unconscious state, he began to uncurl and wrap around my side, head snuggled deeper into my chest.

even as a growing young man... hes still my little boy..

After a few seconds of staring at Quincys obviously disheveled and weak body, i turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings. but before I could. I was met with a sight i never expected.

Declan.

Declan was standing about 6 feet away from my bed, no emotion, just a blank stare as we made eye contact. I was un-phased. I did not care if he wanted forgiveness. i did not care if he was was "right" or if i "deserved" this punishment. i was no longer his. he was no longer my soulmate, and im starting to think he never was.....

Declan and me made eye contact as his gaze turned from blank, to one of remorse, opening his mouth. but before he could, i shook my head. turning away from his form. I could hear his hesitant and heavy footsteps as he walked towards me.

"youre still mine. youll get better, and then we can be better again... all of us... we can be a family.."

a deafening silence filled the room

.............

i cleared my dry, hoarse throat as i attempted to whisper. Quietly pressing the "doctor" button, on my hospital bed remote.

"no. I am not yours anymore. I may have been, once upon a time... but that twisted fairytale, has long since ended. Goodbye."

Declan must have heard the hurried footsteps too, as he quickly left the room, but not without one more scowl my way.

very Soon, a very.....handsome? man hurridely stepped into the room, body obviously tense and in a panic as spoke quickly, without looking up....oh.. so this was my angel.. how cute

"QUINCY!! you called?? what hapened??? Are they coding?!?!........oh. um, hello?"

The short, nervous doctor, let out a small chuckle as he came closer to me, at a slower, calmer pace now.

"its good to see you awake.. mr. sam... im sure Quincy will be elated by the news"

"hello... yes, im sure he will be too... thank you.. for saving me that day.....but um.. speaking of days.... what day IS it"

"Its the 30th. youve been in a coma for 3 weeks. its good to have you back."

To my concerned displeasure, Quincy woke up, likely at all the noise. quickly stiffening, when he saw my wide, tired eyes. He quickly sat up before launching himself into my arms, with wide eyed, smiling sobs.

"SAM!!! YOURE AWAKE!! OH GOSH I WAS SO SCARED!!!!"

his voice trailed off, as he laid his lower body, between my legs, and his upper body, on my chest and stomach, arms wrapped around my waist. I slowly stroked his hair, hoping to offer some comfort

"....i thought you might never wake up......i was so scared"

The handsome doctor, pulled up a chair next to me, smiling and began explaining things to me, such as the next steps treatment wise. I would receive a prosthetic leg, and daily walks/physical therapy. but i needed to stay under their care, to monitor all my other injuries.

MONTHS LATER

I had been officially released from the hospital two weeks ago, though i received daily physical therapy sessions. my new prosthetic leg was helping a ton, Quincy had gone back to working as an assistant for Dr- i mean.. Nate,, just Nate :)

Nate had moved, recently, to a bigger space. Allowing me and Quincy to move in with him. He was a kind, gentle man, and he was incredibly sweet to me.... even when i had my strongest PTSD episodes... he and Quincy were always there.

I had been diagnosed with BPD and PTSD, during my time at the hospital, with the help of my amazing therapist and psychologist. Life had been hard to manage with those two together.. the meds.. the physical therapy.. the healing process... it was all incredibly hard.

But it wasnt all bad!! I had gotten closer to Dr.Na- i mean. just.. Nate :)

And i had begun working at a nearby bakery, to help pay the bills and my medical expenses. Quincy deserved a childhood, and i was prepared to give him one, always trying to take him places with my extra money, or give him cute little gifts. he was a sweet kid, he deserved the world. Nate and I had gotten close, and i had developed a mini crush on him, though i wont act on it yet.. my therapist says i need to differentiate fiction from reality, so i dont potentially hurt Nate. so, im gonna do my best.

however.... Declan also hasn't left me alone.... ive been getting weekly letters.. dark letters... letters with pictures of me in different places. it was all concerning.. though id decided to ignore it.. surely he wouldnt try anything again?

......right?

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

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as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

[mcu1shots]

could you please make me a tony xplus size reader story and getting proposed to but telling him no because she's insecure about her body and him seeing it? it would mean alot im in a dark spot right now.

Of course! Here you go, I hope you enjoy and feel better soon!

Notes/Warnings: insecurity, self doubt, mentions of being a playboy, implications of body negativity, fluff, angst, Plus Sized!Reader

Word Count: 2,351

Nothing More Perfect (Tony Stark x Reader)

Of all the things you had heard about Tony Stark you had never imagined him to be quite the way that he was. He had always presented himself as the playboy billionaire, hosting large parties and being seen with many women. It was always all over the front page of every gossip magazine who Tony’s woman of the week was, it almost had become a game at one point of which celebrity or model would be the next one to fall to his charms. But everything changed a short time ago after the attack on New York.

Everyone had seen how Tony flew directly into the portal that led to… well, perhaps only the man himself knew the answer to that. Ever since then he had become… different. Parties hosted in his honour were still as rowdy as ever, but the inventor himself was barely there for a few minutes, enough time to enjoy a couple of the drinks being served, before he disappeared for the evening. Gossip columnists no doubt mourned for the stories that they used to have from him, for no longer did he have his classic ‘woman of the week’ but he was barely seen to be forming connections with anyone. That is, until someone sent in a picture of Tony with a woman.

That woman was you. It had been around two years ago now when the press found out about you, and all it had taken was someone’s untimely photo of him kissing you goodnight in the hallway of your apartment complex. Before that you had always been very careful not to tell anyone but your close friends about your relationship but, Tony being Tony, insisted that he had to kiss you one last time before your night together ended. And who were you to try to resist that?

The gossip columnists, no doubt bitter from the stories that they had been starved from for so long, had a field day writing about you and Tony, you found paparazzi at your work and it was hard to escape the articles. You remember Tony clearly telling you “everything they’re saying is just for the story” as he urged you to never pick up a magazine or read a single article, even going as far as to suggest blocking results from anything that would come up on your computer or phone.

And for a while you were successful in ignoring anything that the press said about you. You listened to Tony’s suggestion and turned a blind eye to any article about your boyfriend just in case it mentioned you in any way. You were struggling enough with self image without the words of journalists all fighting to get the most clicks on a story, Tony was helping you through everything and you didn’t want to jeopardize that in any way.

Things went well after that, you ignored anything that you saw about you and Tony’s relationship. And since the press already knew about you, you were free to have a normal relationship. Well, as normal as it could be when you’re dating a famous billionaire and superhero. Anytime you did something in public there was the risk of the press writing about it, but Tony’s nonchalance about the entire affair rubbed off on you and you allowed yourself to turn a blind eye.

Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, when Tony was away and you were left to your own devices for a while, it was hard not to go on social media and glance at the headlines that were advertised all over your feed, some of the articles seemed kinder than others, and some just seemed to be going for that dramatic effect. Those were the hardest ones to see, those were the ones that unraveled all of the work you had put into loving yourself. And you tried not to read them, you really did, but sometimes you weren’t all that successful.

Tonight was one of those nights, Tony had some Avengers meeting and would be away for a few days. He had invited you to come with him but you had declined, you always felt out of place in those meetings, surrounded by heroes more perfect than you could ever be. Captain America was genetically modified for perfection, Black Widow was trained from infancy to reach that level of perfection, and Tony had built himself into a perfect hero with his iron man suit. It was hard not to feel self conscious around all of that.

Though perhaps you should have gone with him, as you sat in the bedroom you and Tony shared at his Malibu estate. The window was open, allowing the warm night breeze to flow through. It was a beautiful evening, you should have been outside enjoying yourself, perhaps sitting on the beach and watching the stars, but instead you were sitting on the bed looking at your laptop, staring at one of the not-so-nice articles that had popped up on your screen. You hadn’t even clicked into it, but the title and thumbnail was enough to fill you with a wave of insecurity.

You had to force yourself to tear your eyes away from it and put the device on the edge of the bed. You swung your legs off of the side and stood, stretching out your arms and allowing a deep sigh to escape from your lungs. You should have taken his advice to block out those articles from appearing, but it was too late for that now. You rubbed a hand along your face, feeling more emotionally tired than anything else, and decided you needed some water and a bit of a walk around the house to clear your mind.

So that’s exactly what you did, after shaking out your legs which had started to fall asleep from how you had positioned yourself on the bed, you headed downstairs to get some lemon water from the kitchen. However you were confused when you heard the soft sound of music coming from the living room. Wondering if you had forgotten to turn something off, you changed your path and headed there instead.

And there was Tony, a piece of paper in his left hand and a small box in the other. He seemed to be reading over a speech of some kind which was unusual to you as you had never known him to actually prepare a speech in advance, usually able to come up with something magnificent on the spot, even with cameras and microphones pointed at him. His eyeline raised and caught on you as you stood at the edge of the room and he quickly shoved the paper into his pocket and got on one knee, opening the box.

“Y/N,” he paused to remember the words he had just been rereading for what felt like the hundredth time, and yet seeing you illuminated by the dim lighting of the moon and the stars that filtered in through the large windows, he forgot it all. “I had a whole speech prepared for this, of how I love you so much and all of that sappy stuff. But, it all boils down to the question of… will you marry me?”

You were stunned into silence as you watched him, the seconds seemed to tick by as he waited for your response, a grin still placed upon his face. But you weren’t in the best mindset right now, the image of that headline and thumbnail plastered in your mind. What were you supposed to say? You knew what he wanted you to say, he wouldn’t have asked the question if he wanted you to decline, but how could you say yes? How could you ever be good enough for the Tony Stark?

Your silence and stillness was broken as you took a step back, shaking your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the word ‘no’ but by the way the inventor’s face fell you knew he got the message. “I’m sorry, Tony…”

You turned on your heels and rushed back up the stairs, unable to look at him any longer. Unable to offer him an explanation as you weren’t sure you could even get the words out. Tears rolled down your face as your mind was flooded with thoughts you hadn’t dared to allow for a long time. But your insecurity was like a bucket of water, catching drips of self doubt. That bucket had slowly been filling up over the past two years but the last drop that had been placed by that stupid article was what caused it to overflow, your tears were only proof of that.

Tony had to admit that wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting from you, not in the slightest. He had been expecting tears, of course, but one of joy as you proclaimed that you loved him too and would be delighted to marry him. He shoved the box into his pocket and followed after you, he would accept your denial of his proposal but he couldn’t leave you to be upset on your own, what kind of man would that make him?

He followed you up to the bedroom that you both shared but you had locked yourself in the ensuite bathroom before he could stop you. “Y/N, hey, come on, love, talk to me,” he begged, knocking on the door. But he received no response from you. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, trying to think of if he had done something wrong. Then he saw it, the laptop still placed on the bottom of the bed, screen glowing in the darkness of the room. He paused, looking at the door and considering what he should do. But he figured that you wouldn’t be opening it any time soon and so he stepped away to see what you were looking at. Immediately he knew why you were so upset, seeing the headline and the image plastered across the width of your screen, a pop-up ad for one of those gossip companies that existed only in the depths of the internet. He knew about your struggles with confidence and self worth, and he was able to use his genius mind to put two and two together.

He closed the tab on the screen and then closed the laptop, not wanting you to see that again. He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked softly. “Y/N, my love, I know what the world says about you sometimes, how cruel they can be,” he began, resting his hand against the door, his face inches away from it and his eyes closed. “But as I close my eyes and I think of perfection, all I see is you, every part of you, no exceptions. My entire career I’ve tried to make something perfect but never would I be able to make anything that could compare to the perfection of you. We don’t have to get married, but please, please, come out here so I can hold you. I love you, Y/N, all of you. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was a pause, that agonizing silence as Tony tried to figure out if you believed him or if you could even hear him, there was a chance you were tuning him out and he truly was just talking to a door. But then he heard the click of the lock and stepped back as the door opened to reveal his beauty.

“How can you say that, Tony?” You asked, your voice shaking as you wiped tears from your face, your eyes were red from crying and you sniffled.

Tony lay his hand on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb and smiling softly at you, it was the kind of smile that seemed to be reserved for you and only you. It wasn’t some cocky grin or a smartass smirk, it was just… Tony. “Because I mean it, my love. Because, whatever I do, I will never find or make anything as perfect as you.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, finding yourself unable to look at him, unable to face him. A shaking sigh fell past your lips as you exhaled and tried to think of how to articulate your thoughts to him. “The rest of the world doesn’t seem to agree with you, Stark,” you pointed out in a quiet tone.

Tony chuckled and stepped towards you, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead. “Maybe not, but I do pride myself on being the smartest man in the world. They don’t call me a genius for nothing, you know.”

And there he was, the Tony that you knew so well. The confidence that he had in himself, that he had in you. And a smile slowly came onto your lips and you nodded a bit at his words. “Then… yes.” You told him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

For a moment he looked confused, an eyebrow raised. “Yes?” He repeated, asking for clarification on what exactly you were agreeing to.

“I’ll marry you, Tony Stark,” you said, leaning into the warmth of his hand and reaching out with your own to hold his free one, giving it a gentle squeeze.

And his smile grew, one that was bright and warm and reserved only for the two of you at that moment. “See what I mean? Perfect. I love you, Y/N Stark.” He said, tilting up your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss onto your lips.

“I love you too, Tony Y/L/N.” You countered as you looked up at him, your red eyes now filled with love and happiness instead of doubt and despair.

Tony chuckled at your response. “Touché.”

You simply nodded and pulled him closer. “Now, kiss me properly this time?” You asked sweetly, pulling him close to you.

A grin passed his face and he nodded, leaning towards you. Before your lips met in a kiss he spoke, keeping his tone soft and his warm breath fanned across your face, “As you wish, my perfect fiancée.”

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[cacoetheswriting]

for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

-

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?” 

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

~~

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

~~

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined. 

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his. 

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

~~

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking. 

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment. 

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace. 

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play. 

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling. 

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

~~

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around. 

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

-

masterlist

[hoodieofholland]

Can u write a tickling war with best-friend!tom. Maybe Haz records them and post on insta so fans start to ship them ? ❤️

A/n: added some context first, got this idea and couldn't help but write it, hope you dont mind :)

Friends to lovers au - Actor!tom x best friend!reader

Warnings: none, just fluffy stuff

Masterlist

"Have anything planned for the evening, love?"

You hear Tom calling for you, but decide to keep reading the book on your hands nonetheless, not daring to avert your gaze to his face. Keeping a stoic face, you read through the lines of your book, though you're not really paying any attention to it. You just wanted to teach your best friend a lesson.

"Y/n? You here?" He chuckles nervously, trying to ease the thick air of tension he brought to himself. You were mad at Tom since last night, when he admitted he watched a movie with a girl, his date - a movie that both of you were excited to watch.

You shouldn't be so mad at it, you thought to yourself, but you were. Tom was your best friend, and you wanted all the best things for him, but that didn't mean putting any other girl above you. Knowing that he spent a precious time - which is pretty scarse for him because of his job - with another woman, watching your favorite movie together, drove you mad.

And, obviously, it did have something to do with your little crush on him, but you'd never - ever - admit this part.

"Y/n, darling, won't you talk to me?", he sighed, taking a seat on the couch besides you. You're taking most of its space, but he doesn't mind, touching your ankle ever so softly.

"I'm not your darling, for what I recall", you say in a cold and empty voice, flipping a page on your book.

Tom sighs heavily. He knows it's not true, but he feels hurt anyways. "Well, at least you're not giving me the silence treatment", he mumbles to himself, under his breathe. You look at him through your lashes, face still down.

"I would, if I wanted to", you flip through another page, "But came to the conclusion that it's not worth my time nor energy".

Tom grimaces, knowing you were joking, but not liking your tone. "Y/n, love, I've told you I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again".

His pleading voice touches your insides, and you squirm on your seat. Once you make the mistake of looking to his face, into those beautiful puppy brown eyes, you sigh in defeat, closing your book and putting it aside.

"It better not, Holland", you cross your arms. Tom wrinkles his nose.

"Don't call me that"

"Well, since you're in redemption, I think I might call you whatever the shit I want", you say, shrugging.

Tom opens his mouth in chock, but doesn't argument. "So, we're fine again?"

You pout, a fake deep in thoughts expression, before saying, "We'll see about that. For now, I rather be on my own company and maybe watch some of my favorite movies alone. Or maybe I should invite Haz"

Tom narrows his eyes. "Your favorite movies are my favorite movies", he says as a matter of fact.

"Yes, that's correct", you give him a victory smile and then get up from the sofa. "So, I'll be back in-"

Before you can finish your sentence or moves, a yelp scapes your throat by the surprise when Tom grabs your hips and pull you back to the sofa, your back landing on it not so softly.

"What the fu-"

"You're not gonna do it, y/n", Tom says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning both of your hands above your head. And though he was so talented on what he did for a living, you couldn't say he was playing the greatest role now, pretending to be stern and mad while hovering his body over yours. In fact, you could see his playful smirk on the corner of his thin lips. "'Cause now you're held against your will. And if you wanna watch those movies so bad, you're gonna take my company, you liking it or not".

"Unfair. You take another girl to watch what I wanted to, but I can't invite Haz, my incredibly friendly best friend?", you tease, wiggling your brows, but Tom's smile drops.

"He's not your best friend", Tom states, the grip on your wrists getting a little tighter.

"From now on, I decided that this is him".

Tom's face assumes an expression of doubt, just to fade to a smug one once again. "You're just jealous".

You arch your brows, incredulous. His breathing is so close to your face right now that you can sense your closeness, and if you're not imagining this yourself, it was very possible that the both of you touched each other's lips right now.

"Jealous of what?", you swallow thickly, eyes averting to his lips on them on. You can see his smirk growing immediately.

"Well, darling...", he emphasized, his accent thick enough to send shivers down your spine. "You're jealous of my date".

"Only on your imagination, Thomas", you split too quickly, which didn't make it any easier to swipe off that smugness on his face. If anything, it just made the whole situation worse.

"It's clear as water to me", he leans in, a wide smile plastered on his face, making his eyes wrinkle. The air seems to be stuck on your throat as he does so, and your heart scapes a beat when he gives you a sweet kiss on your cheek. "But you don't have to, sweetheart. You're the only girl I wanna around".

You know you shouldn't take this to the heart, but it's not up to you the tight feeling on your chest when you hear these words. You try yo convince yourself that he only says it as a friend, but something in his eyes, in the way he speaks those words with so much meaning slipping out of his lips, makes you imagine that wanted to share something else with you.

You sigh, feeling your walls break down. Tom was a charmer, you knew it already, but the way he spook with you, the sweetness of his words were beyond this part of his personality.

"You sound convincing", you try to say playfully, but you don't smile and stare directly into his eyes. He does the same.

"Because it's true", Tom tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding your eyes as he loses himself in his thoughts. "Yesterday, I realized that I was looking for something that I already have. Isn't it dumb?", he looks at you with a kind yet insecure smile. You give it back.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me". You heartbeat is so quick that you can bet he can listen to it, for the proximity. He's so pretty. You want to tell him that you feel like this, that you couldn't chase whatever you and Tom had, that this part of your life felt complete.

But the moment you part your lips to say so, Tom's smile widens and he releases your wrists just to take his hands to your belly. "You sure about that, love? Wanna take it back?", he says, a devilish smile playing on his face.

"Never"

"You asked for it, y/n", and then it all started. Tom started to tickle your belly, just on your weak point, where he knew you were more sensitive at. You quickly loose your air, gasping and laughing at the same time as he works his fingers on your skin.

"Oh, my God, Tom, stop!", you yell, rolling to the sides as you try to kick him away from you. Tom laughs' fill the air around you, and it's the most beautiful sound of your day.

"Make me, darling"

You fight with all your strength (and part of you believe he left his body loosen a bit, so you could have any chance to turn the game over). Finally, you're able to throw your body towards his and have him laying on the couch instead, your body over his as you tickle his neck, holding him im place by lacing his lower half with your legs.

"Not so funny, uh?" You tease, watching as his body squirms under you. You laugh along him, but it's not much time until he starts to tickle you back.

"What the hell you guys doing? Can hear you from across the-" Haz enters the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he catches the sight of his two friends in a tickling war. He chuckles silently, amused by the way you looked like a lovely couple already.

He knew about Tom's crush on you, and even though you'd never verbalize it, he had an idea about yours too. He sigh contentedly, a peaceful smile on his face, leaning against the door frame. The two of you don't even notice the moment he grabs his phone and point the camera at you, recording the scene.

Tom suddenly flip the two of you, propping himself on his elbows over you. "Say you're sorry", he demands out loud, still managing to tickle you.

"I- I have nothing- to be sorry abou-" you can't even speak an entire sentence, out of breath as you fight to win the battle. "You the one in redemption!"

Haz has to hold back his laughter. What two love birds.

He stops the filming when the two of you seem tired enough and are about to give up the tickling war. Making his way back discreetly, he opens his Instagram app and post the video as a Stories.

After the fight, reconciliation

Laughing to himself, he shakes his head and post.

Haz didn't know it by the time he posted the video, but by the end of that day, the internet would be overwhelmed with so many messages shipping you and Tom, who couldn't avoid the obvious fact that both of you were in love with each other anymore.

[yunhostinyuyu]

bunny, bunny

pairing: friend!yunho x fem reader

gerne: pwp (im sorry), uni au, friends to friends with benefits

wc: 1.8k

synopsis: when your friend and you ended up in a bed in between each other’s thighs, your friendship was in danger of being disrupted. thankfully, you two came up with a solution…

warnings: cock warming, public play, exhibitionism, grinding, descriptions of past sex scenes, use of pet names, orgasm control? a little praise and a little degrading thrown in too because why not

authors note: this is not proof read and I wrote it at 1am please be kind <3

—

It was a summery afternoon, Yunho and you spend it per usual at the park near campus, studying for your final exams. The last rays of sunshine shining though the pine trees that spend shade to the entire space decked in greenery and flowers. It was especially quiet at this time, which was the reason you went there regularly. Yet the specific place in the very back spend and enormous amount of silence that the both of you enjoyed thoroughly.

But despite the breeze that fanned over your legs and arms, your insides were burning. As if someone poured hot chili sauce in your gut, focus not present and the notes you compared and tried to burn into your memory were wasted efforts. The burn inside churning your stomach in all shapes, trying to sit still - but to no avail.

Why? Because your friend right next to you railed you last weekend, and since then acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you. Never had you ever thought of him like that, but ever since it happened, you couldn’t pull your mind off it. It was a thought chain that disrupted every effort to study, reimagining the things that went down in his bed. But anytime you tried to hint at it or even talk about the incident, he avoided it, changed the topic, or even flat out pretended he didn’t know what you were referring to. And it was exhausting. You were even considering forgetting about the whole thing to continue on with your friendship and not to get the mush of sexual fantasies and your blatant neediness between that.

But still, you thought about it. You couldn’t not think about it. Never had anyone… fucked you the way he did.

“I love the way your boobs bounce, the way you clench around me like that- fuck, like that. You feel so snug around my cock, so good bunny. Just for me.”

Panting. Moaning. Maintaining your rhythm. Repeat. He stretched your walls so well, the constant dragging against your velvet walls make you go crazy. Orgasm pending as your legs got more tired, yet trying your best to continue riding your friend.

“Dumb little bunny, getting tired already? Don’t you want to cum?” He teased, seeing and feeling your struggle, releasing a incoherent chain of moans and complaints. His smirk still ever present on his lips, clearly enjoying himself. After a few more attempts on continuing to get your release on him, he rolled over to change your positions, moments before your thigh muscles would have given out.

“Bunny, answer when I ask you something. Do you wanna cum on my dick, huh? I guess you don’t want to then…” he provoked, knowing exactly what he was doing while slowing his movements. “Yun, no! No I wanna cum, please don’t stop, I’m begging you, please please please, I’m just a dumb little bunny. Make me cum, please Yunho. I need-“ he muffled your pleas with his giant hand, pushing his fingers against your tongue while snapping his hips harder then before, sounds of skin slapping filling the room. Crying as he gifted you with your well earned orgasm.

“Snap out of it, Y/N. You’re off somewhere in Dreamland.” his deep voice woke you from the depth of your naughty mind.

“Fuck- Yunho! Don’t startle me like that!” Playfully hitting his arm as you try to compose yourself again and at least pretend to study, so you can find an excuse to get home and take care of the blinding ache that was slowly bubbling up in between your legs.

Yunho got another book out of his backpack, flipping through the pages as he side eyed you again and again. “What did you think about? You’re been really distant today, I’m almost offended.” His voice sounded calm. And yes, he was right, you acted strange - but to your defense, you didn’t know what the late events made you two. Mind rattling without coming to a conclusion, you simply sighed and looked up from your study material. Rolling over from laying on your stomach, to now rest on your back and searching for Yunho’s attention.

“Yunho, I don’t - no I can’t anymore. You idiot make me crazy, all I can think about is you fucking me and I can’t get this image out of my head. And I can’t stand how you keep on pretending it never happened. I hate this so much. I cannot get over it, and you certainly don’t help with your whole spiel.” words hitting him square in the chest, and even while they came out more forceful than you imagined in your head, it seemed to work in your favor… well more or less…

“Bunny, bunny, if you want me to touch you, just tell me. I can tell by the way your thighs rub together…”

“That’s not what I mean Yunho. You’re doing it right now, again! You’re avoiding the issue at hand, and if you don’t man up I’ll leave until you grow a pair of balls.” You shake your head, denying your arousal pooling in favor of getting your point across. His features turned serious for a moment. Closing your eyes in frustration and hiding your face behind your fingers to avoid his stare boring through your skull. But before he said anything, you felt something along your legs-

“You’re too riled up. But let’s talk this though if it bothers you - which it clearly does. But before that-“ his fingers traveled up until they felt the damp material of your panties, moving it to the side to push his own digits in. Mentally cursing at your choice to wear a skirt today of all days. “- let’s relax. Please, just sit up.”

Trying your hardest to keep any signs of newly found ecstasy to yourself, one hand moving in and out of your hole, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you up from your lying position and bring you onto his lap. His chest pressing against your back, his mouth ghosting over the shell of your ear. Whispering, only for you to hear “good bunny, now-“ he pulled his fingers out of you, which contracted a short whine from your end, and despite trying your best to play coy, you failed. Feeling a grin on his face as he continued to work you up. One hand untucking his half-hard member out of his sweatpants. Your mind went blank as you felt him teasing your entrance, hands searching for him to stop.

“Yunho, we’re in public, someone will see us. Please-“ you whine, slowly loosing control of yourself and almost grinding against him, begging for stimulation. Without answering, he slipped inside effortlessly thanks to your arousal that drenched your core. Lewd moans leaving you as his grip found your hips again, holding you close to him, while not giving you a chance to fuck yourself on him.

At this point all the built up composure was thrown out the window and you tried your hardest to get any stimulation from him, which his death grip on you prevented. “Stop clenching, let’s talk.” He commented, not letting up on you. Brows furrowed in confusion while glancing back at him.

“I didn’t expect you to be this needy for me in public. It explains a lot. But in all seriousness…” he started, and despite everything, you could think clear thoughts again, his rough touch comforting you in a way. “Let’s talk it through.”

Deep sighs escaped while chewing on the inside of your cheek. “You know, I don’t know. It was all so awkward since we… you know, did it. I don’t want to loose our friendship but at the same time my mind is filled with you. But not my friend from Uni-Yunho, instead it’s just ‘bunny looks so good doing this and that’-Yunho.” You found it surprisingly easier to talk your mind without having to look into his eyes. But your voice was thin and could break off any moment to turn into whispers.

“I’m- I don’t know what to say, honestly. Did I ever make you feel uncomfortable, or push you to do things you’re not okay with?” He asked out of the blue, and you shook your head vehemently at his question. His grip on your hips let up, feeling that his hold may cause a few bruises, but that was the last of your concerns. “Never. If it did, we would have never gone that far. You know me, I’m quick to reject people when I feel iffy.”

A soft, breathy laugh left him and you felt his warm breath against your neck. “I know. Suppose I’m lucky then.” Hands coming back to lift you off his cock, and you turned around to face him. Slowly sinking back onto him and finding his hands once you bottomed out.

You both were nervous about this, but nonetheless you were determined to get this topic over with, to come to a conclusion. A proper result to see where you both stand at.

“I have a proposal then.“ he spoke, hands leaving yours again to hold you and make you sink onto his boner once again, this time moaning louder than the first time, and a heat crawled up your neck and cheeks. “What if we…“ he guided you up and down, your hands frantically grabbing onto his shirt to deal with the sudden stimulation. Tiny groans tumbling from his lips as well, “Let’s keep this casual. Make it our thing. We don’t have to get caught up with any feelings or attachments. We can simply keep going as friends, and when… you know. We get desperate, we can play with each other.” He suggested while keeping a steady rythym, bucking his hips ever so perfectly, hitting your spots better than anyone before him did.

“Are you suggesting that we- oh fuck! T-that we… become friends with benefits? Mmmh- you sure about this?” trying your hardest to talk properly without drawing too much attention to your situation. Even if any bystander wouldn’t think you were getting off in public, your skirt hiding both of your private regions perfectly. Your sounds and movements would prove anyone otherwise.

Yunho slowly but surely slacked off and stilled his movements while staying snug inside you again. “That’s what I’m saying. You think you can do that?”

In all honesty, this newly found confidence surprised you, but it suited him so well, ever since becoming intimate with him. And having this side of Yunho, alongside a normal friendship, a friendship you cherished and celebrated? Where he still was that funny, yet slightly clumsy and sarcastic person? It seemed like a jackpot.

Breathily, leaning your forehead against his, and nodding at his suggestion. “I can. I want to. I mean, I wanna try this thing with you. Please-“

Suddenly, lips slotting against your own sloppily. Hands touching you everywhere, heavy breathing and panting.

“Let’s take this back to the dorms then, bunny. Be good and I’ll make you cum as much as you want. Sounds good?”

—

[dirtyoatmeall]

Good for you

A/N: Wow sorry I've been gone!! I suddenly got back into reading and suddenly found myself in the middle of multiple series! anywayz, I finally listened to Olivia Rodrigo's new album so here is a songfic for good for u. I ended up going in a completely different direction than I had in mind. It's also long as fuck. I proof scanned it, but it's like 18 pages, as always sorry for the incorrect grammar, I do what I want. Call me Maybe will be getting one soon as well :)

Pairing: ex!Kageyama x reader, foreshadowed Atsumu x reader

Genre: angst? hurt/comfort? Its sad for pretty much most of it.

Word Count: 10.3k (im so sorry)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking, implied adult themes, all characters are 21+ !!, detailed breakup. 16+ only por favor

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks.

Your phone chimed, alerting you of a new text, you reached for it on the side table, pausing the movie you were watching. It was a message from Shoyo and an image: ‘I’m sorry, I figured it’d be better if I told you instead of finding out on Twitter.’ Your brow pinched, what could that mean? You unlocked your phone to open the text.

The pinch deepens as you zoom in on the picture, eyes beginning to prickle with tears. It was a photo- most likely taken by a fan or paparazzi- of Tobio, your boy-, ex-boyfriend. He was with a woman, she seemed slightly familiar, probably a model or something along those lines. Your face heated and shame burned in your chest, the embrace they were in looked so intimate; private, that it seemed wrong to look. You deleted the image and left Shoyo on read for now; you’d reply when you’re in a better headspace.

It had only been a couple of weeks and he had already moved on, meanwhile, you were just starting to not cry at the little reminders of him scattered about your apartment. He hadn’t even come to get his stuff. You sniffle and walk over to the wall to your left; the picture wall- and gently take one of the photos off, smiling faintly at the memory it brings to the surface.

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

The sun filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow around the room. Groaning, you squint at the brightness before rolling over. Your eyes find blue ones, startling you slightly. He chuckles softly, voice deep and gravelly with sleep; sending heat through your body. “you’re so jumpy in the morning.” he whispered in the otherwise empty apartment.

You roll your eyes and let him pull you into his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his fingers traced lazy shapes into your hip. “Shut up, you know it takes me a day or two to adjust after you’ve been gone.”

You meant for the words to be light; not expecting the emotion you heard behind them. He sighs, arm winding tighter around your waist as he kisses the top of your head. You bring your head up to meet his gaze and shift in his arms, frown tugging on your lips. “’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

He sighs again, shaking his head softly. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, I should, for never being home, missing holidays and-“ You put a hand against his lips silencing him, brows drawn tightly together.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for either. I knew what I was getting into when we got together, it didn’t bother me in school and it doesn’t bother me now. I’d much rather you live out your dream than being stuck here with me all the time.” You feel his mouth open to object, but your hand stays firm. “I’m serious Tobio, I mean every word.” He nods against your hand and you release him. You flush slightly at the open emotion in his gaze. He pulls you into a kiss, murmuring against your lips. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you, I promise I’m gonna give you the world.”

And good for you, I guess that you've been workin' on yourself. I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

A few days later you meet Shoyo for lunch, a new onigiri place where he apparently knows the owner. He sighs as he sets down his menu, your eyes snapping back your own, pretending like you’ve been mulling it over this whole time. “Alright, go ahead and ask.”

You look up from your menu, feigning innocence. “Hm? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” He rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow. You hold his gaze for a few moments before your shoulders sag in defeat. Your eyes fall to the table as you pick at the corner of the laminated menu. He gives you a minute to collect your thoughts before he places his hand atop yours, a sad smile gracing his features.

“(Y/N), it’s normal to want to know how he’s doing.” You chew your lip and mumble, “Well he’s obviously doing good since he already moved on.”

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He started going to that therapist you recommended a day or so after,” he pauses, trying to gauge where your mind is. You’re meeting his gaze, and he can see you got what he was implying so he continued. “He’s been going consistently; says it’s really helped him.” You nod, blocking out his next words; too busy thinking about how you’re going to find a new therapist.

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

As you eat, you think over his words. You swallow and take a deep breath, trying to instil confidence in yourself. “Are they… good together?” Your voice comes out softer than intended and you inwardly cringe. He smiles faintly and nods. “They are.” You nod in understanding and turn your focus back to your meal.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me-If you ever cared to ask

You knew it was inevitable, your apartments aren’t that far apart, you just wished it wasn’t so soon.

You were grocery shopping for the week, trying to figure out how many oranges to get before settling on 4 with a sigh, you toss them into your cart, turning around to see blue eyes at the other end.

You inhale sharply, your gazes met and he was too close for you to run away, leaving only one option. You were suddenly glad you met Shoyo for breakfast this morning, you were dressed up a bit, but you weren’t so glad when you became queasy. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped, letting it fall shut. You feel your face flush with heat and you duck your head, mumbling a soft “sorry!” and move to continue down the aisle, hoping he’d let you go.

Those hopes were crushed with the hand that gently captured your elbow, halting your escape as he turned you to face him. You were silent for a moment before he realized he was still gripping your elbow, dropping his hand to his side. You crossed your arms around your middle, trying to look- be smaller, small enough to get away. Though the rational side of you knew it wouldn’t happen, that you’ve known each other too long to simply stop. So you raised your gaze, uncurling your arms and bringing your shoulders back to at least look the part of an old friend caught by surprise, smiling as you spoke.

“Oh, Kageyama! I didn’t see you there, how are you?” He cringed ever so slightly at the use of his last name, filling you with a sick sense of pride that weighed uncomfortably in your chest. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a brunette coming up to him, not noticing you as she surveyed the list in her hand.

“Babe, did you find the oranges? Oh, remind me to pick up my birth control at the phar-“ Her eyes widened as she noticed you; cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. Unfazed, Kageyama snorted softly, wrapping an arm around her waist before turning back to you. “This is Yumi, babe, this is (Y-) uh, (L/N).” You smiled and waved, which she mirrored, going to speak but instead was interrupted by you, who had decided to spare all of you of the awkwardness of prolonging the conversation. “It’s nice meeting you Yumi, and it was nice seeing you Kageyama, but I gotta run.”

They nodded and waved in farewell as you continued down the aisle, letting out a deep breath before heading into the next aisle. You needed more alcohol.

Good for you. You're doin' great out there without me, baby. God, I wish that I could do that.

You saw them a few more times during your shopping trip. You had wanted to leave right away, but you had been putting off groceries for too long, and leaving your cabinets and fridge almost barren. Thankfully they were always far enough where if you accidentally made eye contact a smile in passing was warranted enough.

As you contemplated between mini pizzas or a large pizza, you heard a loud giggle from further down the aisle. Your head turned towards the noise instinctively and you saw them at the end, near the ice cream, which you hoped they moved soon because that was next on your list. They were laughing, her arms around his waist as she looked up at him, he had an arm around her, resting on her hip as he met her gaze and you felt your chest tighten and an emotion you definitely did not want to name and wanted to shove down, down far enough to forget it. They looked the part of smitten lovers, and you decided you didn’t need ice cream all that bad and grabbed the mini pizzas before heading to checkout, continuing to ignore the emotion swelling, weighing down your chest and moving up to your throat.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You took a deep, shuddering breath that broke halfway into a gasping sob. The emotion was suffocating, burning in the back of your throat and pulsing against your skull as you hugged your knees to your chest, the cold press of the tub against your back doing nothing. You tried to take a breath again but your chest was too tight, it was constricting your lungs, pushing hot tears down your cheeks and pulsing harder as with the ringing in your ears.

You could faintly comprehend the door to the bathroom opening, but didn’t look up as someone wrapped their arms around you, pulling you to them; the feel of fabric twisting in your grasp somewhat grounding as they smoothed down your hair, their words muffled under the ringing. You couldn’t think about the tears and who knows what else dampened their shirt, couldn’t think of anything except the emotion weighing so heavy in your chest you were positive it was going to break your ribs, break through you and continue down, down, deep underground.

You have no clue how long you were there with them, not even sure how long before they arrived. They shifted their arms to pick you up, and you let them, not even moving your hands from their place on the shirt, you were sure they were glued there, the tears acting as an adhesive. Sobs still racked your frame as you were set down, tucked under the covers of your bed before the person laid next to you, resuming their soothing touches as the weight in your chest slowly lightened, gradually releasing its grip on your lungs as the ringing quieted, allowing you to hear the slew of soothing words softly coming from the person next to you.

But as the emotion lessened its grip on you, tiredness swiftly replaced it, the pounding at your temples only encouraging the darkness to weigh you down, until it settled over you like a blanket, your fingers laxing enough for them to fall back to your side. Your breathing slowed, the occasional hiccup breaking the silence as you slept.

But you’re so unaffected, I really don’t get it, but I guess good for you

Shoyo let out a deep breath as he gently shut the door to your bedroom behind him, shoulders slumping with exhaustion when he heard the latch click. He dragged a hand down his face, combing his fingers through his hair as he went to your kitchen to finish putting away your groceries, throwing away what was defrosted before collapsing on your couch, pulling out his phone, debating whether or not to text the person likely responsible for your tears. Turns out he didn’t even have to, they had already called him and left a message about an hour ago, a little after Shoyo first got to your apartment. He brought the phone up to his ear as he pressed play.

“Hey, I ran into (Y/N) at the store today, you know I thought you might be right; that our friendship ended with the breakup, but it was like nothing had changed! She even met Yumi though Yumi didn’t notice at first and started talking about her birth control,” a laugh, “I don’t know why you were so worried, she seems perfectly fine. I was thinking about having a little get together in a few weeks, Yumi really wants to meet everyone from Karauno, you both should come! Oh one sec, what? Okay! Sorry, I gotta go, Bye.”

Shoyo slid down the couch slightly, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Really? He was glad you stocked up on alcohol at the store because after hearing that, he needed a drink.

Well, good for you, I guess you're gettin' everything you want. You bought a new car and your career's really takin' off.

Two weeks later you sat on your couch, eyes focused on the match televised. You tell yourself you’re watching the tournament to see who Shoyo will end up going against; if you can give them any pointers, though a part of you knows it’s a lie.

At the end of the match, the Adlers, no, To- Kageyama, had scored the winning point, securing a spot in the semi-finals. You lifted the remote to change the channel, but you froze as the camera zoomed in on the edge of the court, where you watched Yumi jump into his arms, he threw his head back laughing as he spun her around before kissing her. You could hear the commentators discussing the game after making a cheeky comment but you tuned it out. You watched them walk off the court, snapping out of the trace as soon as the camera cut to the other team. You quickly turned it off. Taking a deep breath in your silent apartment.

You were going through your Instagram feed when you came across a post from Tobio. It was him and Yumi in front of a new car, kissing. You noticed it had multiple pictures, and swiped through, all of them of the couple. The last one was the most recent, earlier today, in fact, you recognized the jersey of the other team in the background. You part of the caption, deciding to scroll past before scrolling back up to read the long paragraph that was pretty much a love letter to Yumi. You bit your lip and liked it, cursing afterwards, you didn’t want him to know you still followed him. You debated unfollowing but decided against it, it’d only look weirder if you had liked a post and weren’t following him. You couldn’t get his expression out of your head, he looked so happy.

It's like we never even happened. Baby, what the fuck is up with that?

Over the next few days you received multiple texts from Kageyama, updates on his family; that they were asking about you, wanting you to visit, an invitation to a small gathering they were having next week, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi and Yachi were in town and he wanted to introduce Yumi to everyone. And several attempts to start a conversation.

You replied to all of them, thanking him for the update, politely declining the invitation; using work as an excuse, and you halfheartedly tried to keep up with the conversations until it got to be too much. It was like nothing happened, like he hadn’t suddenly broken up with you, after almost 7 years together. There were times you wanted to remind him, but decided against it. You didn’t want to be the bitter ex, you wanted to move on, like he had.

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

You think Shoyo had a talk with him.

After it all became too much, the media, the texts, the times he tried to call you, you told Shoyo. He was furious, ignoring your pleas to just leave it be as he left your apartment.

Later that night he came back, less angry and with takeout. When you had asked where he went he just smiled and told you not to worry about it. You watched movies the rest of the night. When you awoke the next morning there were no texts from Kageyama, and nothing on social media. Your nosiness got the best of you and you looked him up, only to furrow your brow as the results came up blank. You checked the other social media you had each other on and couldn’t find him anywhere. You didn’t dare text him, just in case, but it was obvious- he had blocked you, on everything.

There was an emotion curling in your chest, but you couldn’t quite name it. You didn’t know how to feel about it, so you stayed in bed for a few more hours before migrating to the couch. Shoyo didn’t come over that night, and you hated that you were slightly relieved.

Remember when you swore to God I was the only person who ever got you?

You sighed, still slightly out of breath and damp with sweat, snuggling into the body next to you regardless, smile stretching your lips. He tightened his arm around your waist, petting your hair as he shifted onto his side, bringing you closer and tangling your legs together. You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely, softly kissing his throat, right below his adam's apple before resting your face against his collarbone. He shuddered and drew you impossibly closer. “I know I don’t say it as often as I should, but I love you (Y/N), so much. I swear sometimes I feel like you’re the only person in the world who understands me. Ugh, that sounded so cliché.” You snorted as he slightly shook with laughter. “I love you too Tobio.” You brought your head up for a tender kiss before the two of you settled into a peaceful slumber.

Well, screw that, and screw you. You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

You awoke the following morning with a hollow ache in your chest, your eyes burned but nothing came. You don’t know if it was good that the tears never came, but the hollowness settled heavily in you, it seemed to be all around you, weighing down the air equally. You were on autopilot the whole day, not fully there.

You blinked at the chime from your phone and raised your brows at the time, and your eyes widened at the name in your notifications. You quickly opened the text and looked at the image 2,3,5 times. It was a selfie, only the top part of Yumi’s face was visible, she must’ve been taking it, having to have it out enough to get Kageyama and all of his family in the frame, everyone smiling brightly. The typing bubble popped up for a few seconds before it disappeared and was replaced by a small message. You read it over and over before biting your lower lip. This is when the tears would normally come, when they’d be expected and yet they didn't. The burn was there, the lump in your throat but nothing else except the hollow pulsed in your chest. You didn’t think that was a good sign.

From Tobio:

We miss you! The kids keep asking when you’re going to come to play again. We love you, and you’re always welcome to visit. -Miwa~

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me if you ever cared to ask

You decided not to tell Shoyo about the picture, after all, it was his sister who sent it. He sent an apology the next day and you quickly dismissed it, asking him to tell her thanks and to tell everyone hello for you and that you hoped they had a great trip.

He unblocked you later that day. You assumed it was because of your text, he probably thought everything was fine now, that little bump in the road passed and things were back to normal again. And you tried, you tried so hard to go back to the person you were before. Fake it ‘till you make it was something you lived by, and you certainly were doing a great job faking it, but the ache in your chest told you that you hadn’t made it yet.

Good for you, You're doin' great out there without me, baby

You always kept up with the volleyball news and media, now for just Shoyo, but it was impossible to not see Adlers updates, and as MSBY’s rival you felt you needed to keep up. They were a force to be reckoned with, win after win; tournament after tournament they were at the top, MSBY one of the few to keep up. You sent him a congratulatory text after his last win, if he didn’t want to leave your friendship then you’ll try your hardest not to either, even if it hurts.

God, I wish that I could do that

Well, that lasted about 2 weeks. It’d been about 2 months since Kageyama broke up with you. You texted occasionally, most of them short conversations. They used to be longer, but you knew that to really get over him, you couldn’t be his best friend like before, you had to distance yourself. Shoyo wanted you to block him, even if just for a few more months, so you can move on quicker, but you disagreed. Your lives were so intertwined it wasn’t possible to not see him or hear about him at least once a week, usually in the form of sports journalism.

You laughed at Tsukishima’s joke, choking on the margarita you were in the middle of drinking, causing the others to laugh at you. Everyone was miraculously in town this week and demanded that you all hang out all week. Yachi stayed at Hinata's apartment since he had a roommate, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stayed at yours, though everyone decided to congregate at your apartment, the former two falling asleep on your couch and after the third night in a row, you convinced them to just stay. Hinata packed a bag and slept on your futon, Yachi slept in your bed with you, and the last two shared your guest bedroom.

While they all swore it was a mere coincidence everyone was in town, you had a strong theory that Hinata invited everyone down to stay with you, since in 3 days was what would’ve been your 7 year anniversary with Kageyama. They did their best to keep you distracted, going out to clubs, having movie marathons and game nights that lasted until dawn. You were filled with immense gratitude for that, and you made sure to let them know it. You were glad your little group was able to stick together, even if the shadow of the empty seat at the table grows with each passing day.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

You almost made it. Everyone stayed in today, keeping a careful eye on you all morning, until you got a call from your mother. Your parents lived in the countryside, they didn’t have great reception out there, even if they did they’d keep the single landline they have now. They called every so often, for holidays or updates on health and family members. The last time you talked to them was about 6 months ago. You head into your bedroom before you answer, a little worried about what might be going on, you knew your father’s health was declining, could something have happened? You took a deep breath and accepted the call, bringing your phone to your ear. “Hello? Mom?”

It takes a second before she replies, probably trying to get your father to stand next to her. “(Y/N) sweetie, sorry it’s been so long, it’s been busy down here and since your father can’t do a whole lot anymore, it’s been taking longer to keep the farm in shape.” You can hear your father grumble something in the background and you can imagine your mother rolling her eyes.

“Nevermind that! We were calling to congratulate you and Tobio on your anniversary, that’s today right? 7 years, I hope you know how lucky you are dear, these days relationships just aren’t lasting like they used to, but I’ve always known you two would stick through, I still do. Hopefully one of these days I’ll get a call about a ring? Or maybe some grandbabies?” She giggled on the other end, going on to talk about her and your father’s relationship, not paying attention to if you’ve replied or not, and you haven’t, you’re- you’re- you jolt out of whatever trance you were in to find yourself on your bathroom floor, back against the tub, your mother still chattering away in your ear, though you can’t hear her.

She’s right. Today is- would’ve, been 7 years. A flurry of emotions roars to life in your chest and you feel the familiar burning and grip start to take hold. You clear your throat, interrupting her story.

“Uh mom, me and Tobio aren’t together anymore. I’m sorry, I meant to call earlier, but there’s a lot going on. I actually have to go, I promise I’ll call later okay? I might be able to get away from work in a few weeks to visit. Love you.”

You ended the call, guilt joining the mix, you had completely forgotten to tell your mother, her words stirring the pot of emotions and memories in your gut as they rose into your chest, filling your lungs, spilling into your throat into your nasal cavity, behind your eyes and into your skull. You slackened your hold on your phone, and it tumbled onto the tile. You choked against the burning in your throat, pressing your palms into your eyes, trying- uselessly- to stop the slideshow of memories.

He had been your best friend, your longest crush, your first- well, everything. You truly thought you would be spending the rest of your life with him, travelling the world as he plays volleyball, eventually settling down and buying a house somewhere, anywhere. Marriage, a cat, maybe a dog, and kids. You never once thought the father of your future children would be anyone but Kageyama Tobio. Apparently, he thought differently. Against your will, the night he ended everything played back in your vision.

You heard the door close as you finished up dinner, a smile stretching wide on your face as you imagined his reaction. You spent the week learning how to make this dish, an old family recipe from his grandmother that he apparently adored and ate every time he visited home without fail. After years of watching her make it, you’d think you would have a good idea of how but you were naïve to think so. You finish plating the dishes and setting up the table, brows pinched in confusion, he hadn’t come to greet you yet, which he always does. You shrug it off, he might’ve had a tiring practice, hopefully the food makes up for it.

You pad down the hallway, thinking he jumped straight in the shower. You stop in the doorway of your shared bedroom; He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as his elbows dig into his knees. Worry and confusion rose; what was wrong? Was practice that bad? You don’t try to mask your steps towards him, though he flinches all the same when you lay a hand on his shoulder, quickly withdrawing it. You sink to your knees in front of him, gingerly holding his wrists as you speak softly.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad practice? Why don’t you tell me about it over dinner, I got everything at the table.” He sighed deeply, sagging further, like the weight of the world weighed down on him. Your concern grew and you squeezed his wrists in a silent question. He took a deep breath and sat up, you let your hands fall away but he caught them, cradling them in his grasp, pity and guilt swirling in his glassy gaze as it met yours.

You sat up on your knees, why in the world would he look at you like that? “Tobio? What’s wrong, baby you have to tell me so I can help, you gotta let me in.” You were pleading at this point. He so rarely showed this much sadness, you were sick with worry, mind going to the worst-case scenario. He squeezes your hands, bringing them up to his lips. He keeps them there for a moment, his eyes shut, brow drawn tight.

He brings them back down to his lap and lets out another sigh, meeting your gaze again. You can see the conflict on his features bright as day. “(Y/N), I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay back what you’ve given me. I’m truly, truly grateful and you've been one of my longest friends, one of my best friends. Which is why- why-“

He lets out a shuddering breath gaze dropping, tightening his grip around your hands. Your brow is pinched deeply, eyes searching his features for any sign of what could be going on. He takes a breath, trying to calm himself before continuing, and when he meets your gaze you no longer see the guilt, you see a wall you worked so hard to bring down. You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “You are one of the most important people in my life, which is why I have to do this. I can’t keep doing this, prolonging the inevitable only makes it more painful and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. But, (Y/N) I can't keep this up any longer, I thought- I thought it might pass, if I kept going along, pretending like everything is fine, when it’s not.” Your heart drops, no, it can’t be, what does he mean?.

“Everything is fine Tobio, what are you talking about? What are you saying, I-I don’t understand.” The emotion thickens your voice and his face falls as he sees the tears gather in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I loved you so, so much. I promise, I loved you more than anything, so much it hurt.” The tears are escaping both your eyes. You want to get out of his grasp but his hands only tighten around yours, like a lifeline. You suppress a sob bubbling up to speak, the world tumbling softly from your quivering lips. “Did?”

A hand touching your shoulder tears you from the memory. You’re aware of the hot tears streaming down your face, of the tight sobs wracking your frame, ripping from your throat against your will. You feel hollow, the ache grows and pulses until it’s all you feel, grief rising to meet it. You blink the tears away, to look around the room, you hadn’t recognized it right away, still disoriented from the memory. You see your friends, concern and in some cases, anger, in their gaze as they hover. You were surprised to find Tsukishima was the one at your side, the one who had pulled you from the memory turned nightmare. Your lip wobbles and he pulls you into his arms, embracing you as you cry into his sweatshirt, much like you had to Hinata weeks ago.

You’re vaguely aware of hushed voices around you, the rumble of Tsukishima’s voice oddly soothes you. You can hear Shoyo behind you, you think you hear him say your mother’s name, was she calling again? The thought slips from your mind as quickly as it came. You sat in your bathroom for who knows how long, crying in Tsukishima’s arms, surrounded by your friends.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it but I guess good for you

Later that night, when everyone has finally passed out, you slip through your apartment door, pulling your hood up as you head towards the street. You have your phone, keys and pepper spray. You just wanted- no, needed to get out of there, the slight chill in the air rousing you. You take in the surroundings, letting your feet take you wherever they please.

You sigh as you take in the park in front of you. You used to come here a lot, whenever you needed to clear your head. It was a space for you to be truly alone to work out your emotions. Which is exactly what you needed now. You smile faintly as you reminisce, not paying attention as you head to the swings, only to stop in your tracks, still hidden in the shade as you watch on. What the fuck.

The creak of the swings is drowned out by laughter, two people sit on the swings, legs pumping to go higher and higher. Her hair whips in the wind and she closes her eyes, leaning back for a moment. You watch him slow down, eventually stopping and getting up to approach her flying form. Right when she is about to pass him, he moves, grabbing her and the swing, halting them mid-swing. She squeals, which quickly melts into laughter as she lets go of the chains, wrapping her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck. Her smile is a sun in the night, love radiating from the couple as they kiss. You look away and spot an open picnic basket, a bottle of wine poking through on a blanket rumpled from use.

You leave as silently as you came.

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow ache starts to burn as you walk back to your apartment. You didn’t expect him to be as affected tonight as you were but you thought he’d- what did you think he’d feel? Mourning? Grief? Sadness? Why would he? He was the one who broke it off, who ‘fell out of love’ or at least that’s what he said when he broke your heart. And to bring her there?

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You shared that spot with him a year after you moved in together, he knew its significance to you, to your relationship. How long had he been bringing her there? What did he tell her about it? Did he use the words you said to him all those years ago? You wondered if he even remembered what today was. He said he had loved you, but was he truthful? He promised quite a few things during your relationship that were broken when he admitted it, when he confessed ‘what had been eating him up inside.’

Maybe I'm too emotional but your apathy's like a wound in salt

The hollow was slowly filling, bitter, anger, loss, and more flooded the space as you recalled his words that night.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You had never felt more dread than in that moment.

“I loved you so, so much.” You had wished the past tense was a mistake, but you knew it wasn’t.

“I don’t know when it happened, if it was slowly or quickly.” You could tell it was a lie.

“I-I just realized I loved you in a different way than you loved me.” A cute way of saying he no longer loved you.

“I thought that if I just stuck with it, that it might change, that it was just a slump.” Another way to say ‘leading you on because I was too afraid to tell you the truth.’

“I tried, I tried so hard to love you the way you wanted me to.” For how long? How many years did he lead you on, how long did he let you think everything was ok?

“You deserve more than I can offer.” You knew that was true, you did deserve more. You deserved a lot more than this, than an offer.

Maybe I'm too emotional Or maybe you never cared at all

You were crying by the time you got to your apartment building, but it was different. You didn’t feel the aching hollow as strongly as before. You felt anger, bitterness about what he said, you had a million things you wanted to say to him, to make him know what he did. But didn’t he already know? He was there, he saw what his words did, he saw the aftermath, at the very least he heard about it. And yet the night after he was pictured entering a popular high-end club. It was on your Twitter feed that morning, effectively pouring salt and lemon into the hole in your heart. You had thought it then, and you’re thinking it now.

Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy, not me If you ever cared to ask

The next morning, no one brought up last night, and you were thankful for it. You think they could sense the shift, from the aching despair to the brittle anger. So you all lounged on the couch, playing Mario Kart to help you channel it.

You were on the fourth stage of Grief according to Yamaguchi, who brought it up the following day over breakfast. He explained: Denial- which was during the breakup and right after, Depression- which came to fruition after you ran into them at the store, Bargaining- When you tried to go back to how it was before, trying to keep the friendship alive so you’d still have him around, Anger- which was now, when you realize that you wasted years of your life for someone who didn’t even love you and now they want to go back to friends, after they immediately get into a new relationship. The next step would be the final- Acceptance, when you would finally accept he was gone, when you could finally move on.

Good for you

After that night the change became more obvious. You weren’t hiding anymore, you would hold your head high and snap others off if they trod down the wrong path. You felt the hot anger slowly cool over time, as you continued to go out, to clubs, bars, parties Shoyo always invites you to but you always decline. You met his teammates, finally after too long.

He had dinner for you and the team at his apartment that he shares with one of the said teammates. You dressed up a little, enough for Shoyo to whistle when you showed him over facetime as you finished getting ready. You weren’t planning on going anywhere except your apartment after; there was just something about knowing you look good that does wonders to the confidence. You grin widely as he complains about not wanting to deal with his teammates crushing on you. You end the call when you get into your car, you were going to stop by the store to get something and then head over, despite his assurances no one else was bringing anything.

You purse your lips in thought as you surveyed the wine selection in front of you, bending slightly to read the label of one on a lower shelf. You didn’t realize you were taking up the aisle until someone cleared their throat behind you. You paid the little mind, murmuring an apology as you stepped to the side. You felt their presence next to you, and after a minute of them burning a hole through you with their gaze you turned towards them, lips pursed in annoyance rather than thought.

You're doin' great out there without me, baby, like a damn sociopath

The wide eyes of Kageyama Tobio meet yours as you study him for a moment before smiling. “Kageyama! Sorry, I didn’t realize I was taking up the whole aisle, you know me; always so indecisive.”

Your joke seems to snap him out of whatever train of thought he was in. He smiles and chuckles, turning to look at the wine in front of you. “What kind of an occasion is it?” He asks after a beat. “Oh Shoyo is introducing me to his teammates today, wine’s something people bring to dinners right?”

He smiles and nods before pointing out several bottles. “These would be appropriate, and Shoyo likes this brand.'' He plucks one from the shelf before presenting it to you. You smile and thank him, before parroting his question back to him. He turns back to the wine. “Uh, Yumi got a promotion and I’m surprising her with dinner with her coworkers.” You hum in thought before grabbing a wine off the shelf for him. “I think this would be a good one. It's white, so the stain won't be as bad and won’t stain her lips like a red would. It’s a dessert wine so even her younger colleagues should enjoy it. Oh, and tell her congrats for me.” He smiles and thanks you before you part.

You arrive right on time at Shoyo’s, the wine was well received and his teammates were great. They were everything he told you and more, you all got along great, especially you and Atsumu, he was Shoyos roommate and it was great to have another person to make fun of his horrible habits with, much to Shoyo’s dismay.

The dinner flies by, and eventually, you’re the last to leave. You wave to Atsumu before hugging Shoyo. “Thank’s Sho, for everything you’ve done for me these past 6 months. I love you.” He squeezes you tight, kissing the crown of your head before pulling away.“You don’t need to thank me (Y/N), I know you’d do the same. I love you too, drive safe.” You wave as you leave back to your apartment.

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night. Cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

The next 6 months fly by, and you spend more and more time with Shoyo and his team. Bokuto dubs you an honorary Jackal and you celebrate drinking until dawn, as a true Jackal would. You spend time with them individually, the gym with Bokuto, reality TV with Sakusa, movie nights with Shoyo, and all of the above with Atsumu, in addition to annoying his brother Osamu at his restaurant.

It hits you out of the blue. You had felt a little off all day, but you had chalked it up to the takeout you had last night. You glance at the calendar as you walk past, only to backtrack and look again, with wide eyes. Today marked a year since the breakup. It had taken you a long time to move on, but you were finally starting to feel yourself again, so why did your heart ache all of a sudden? Why did the burning rise in your throat, prickling the back of your eyes as you began to breathe faster, feeling the despair rise out of the depths to rip a sob from you lips? You try to stop, taking deep breaths, count five things in the room, but none of it works. It’s not as bad as the other times, but you feel shame crawling up to join, you were finally turning things around, how could you let it all go to waste?

You curl into yourself on the couch, blindly calling Shoyo to ask for his company, maybe he’d know, he helped you get this far, maybe he can make sure you don’t fall too far. You listen to the rings until you hear the click of an answered call, not even letting him speak before crying into the phone, asking him to be with you, help you understand. Half your words are unintelligible as you ramble on, not really listening to the other end until you think you hear him say he’s on his way, but he sounded odd, different. Had you interrupted him? Was he too busy? No, he would’ve told you and sent someone else, probably Yachi since she was the closest.

You quickly tire of trying to hold everything back, and let it wash over you, all the feelings from this past year rise up, poised to drown you, and you allow it, letting it crash down and wash over you. You let the sobs free themselves, somehow knowing it was the right thing. You give yourself to the despair, the anger, the loneliness.

You don’t hear the knocking at the door, or the sound of the door opening, too absorbed untangling the knot of emotions in your heart; until you feel the cushion next to you you sink with the weight of another person, and a hand gently rubs your back soothingly.

You lean into him, letting him pull you to him like many times before. He pulls you into his lap, curling an arm around your waist while the other hand cradles the back of your head, letting you sob into his shirt. You take a deep breath, letting his familiar scent calm you- wait.

You freeze and your stomach drops. It’s not Shoyo. They're bigger, enough to cradle you against their chest. They’re whispering soothing words into your hair, and you hear a familiar accent, leaning back quickly enough to send a wave of dizziness through you and you sway for a moment.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Atsumu asks, moving his hands to your hip and back to steady you. Your wide eyes meet his and he tilts his head slightly in confusion. “(Y/N), hey sweetheart, you okay? Gave me quite the scare there earlier ya know?” You continue to stare at him until he waves a hand in front of your face, breaking whatever spell you were under.

You blink a few times, shaking your head slightly as the corner of his mouth quirked up. You look back at him, brows furrowed, cringing when you hear your voice, hoarse after however long of crying. “’Tsumu? What’re you doing here? Where’s Sho?” He raises an eyebrow at your question, lifting his hand to wipe a tear from your cheek.

“Whaddya mean? You called me cryin’ an’ askin’ me to come here to keep ya company. Speakin’ of, what in the world is wrong? What’s got you so sad sweetcheeks?” Your face heats at the nickname.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I meant to call Sho, he knows; it’s- today is-” He embraces you as a fresh wave of tears springs from your eyes. You can hear the rumble of his chest as he speaks, breath fanning your ear. “It’s all ok, ya don’t haveta cry, I can call chibi if you want him instead of me, it's no prob-“ You shake your head, cutting him off.

“No, s’kay. Thanks for being here ‘Tsumu, sorry I pretty much threw myself into your lap when you sat down.” You rub an eye, feeling awfully close to a toddler. He chuckles and combs your hair back, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him in the eye. “No needta thank me doll, and I won’t object to a pretty thing like you throwing themselves into my lap, though I’d enjoy it more if you weren’t crying. Now, d’ya wanna tell me what made you cry a river in here. Or at least what I can do to help.”

You curl inward slightly, not sure how to explain your wants at this moment, the emotions tangling in your chest too raw to name. You use actions to express your needs as words continue to fail you. You shift in his lap, straddling him instead of the awkward side hug you were doing before. You break eye contact, looking anywhere but him, feeling awkward and exposed. He snorts softly and his hands run up your knees, palm flat against your thighs, up and over your hips to splay against your back, bringing you back to his chest. Your pals lay flat against his sides, sliding along his ribcage and then south, fisting the fabric against his lower back as you rested your cheek on his shoulder. You waited and waited but the tears didn’t come, you could feel the tear tracts cool on your cheeks, trying to put your feelings into words.

A shudder than through his body as he felt you sigh into his neck, arms wrapping tighter around you, pulling you closer, until you were flush against him. The minutes passed by as the two of you stayed wrapped around each other, you breathing the only sound in the apartment. You sighed again, pulling away from him slightly to lean back to look at him. He searched your face, taking in the emotions clouding your eyes, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips soothingly. You gave him a weary smile and took a deep breath, looking down at your hands as you spoke.

“I don’t know if Sho told you about this, but about 6 months before I met you guys I got out of a pretty serious relationship, I mean it was my first relationship and the breakup hit me really hard. The day of the dinner was one of the first times I had truly felt myself again.

“We got together in our first year of high school. We had been friends years before that. God, I had a crush on him for so long, I can’t remember anyone before that.” Your voice is whispy, reminiscing on a better time. “I wasn't a manager that first year, though I was around often enough that I helped where I could. I was at almost every practice, which is how I got acquainted with the other first years. He was still guarded and grumpy then, so I was friends with everyone first, and we all slowly warmed up to each other.

“When he asked me out at the end of the year, after saying goodbye to the third years, it just- it felt so right, like this is supposed to happen. I was a manager our last two years and by graduation the six of us were close. We managed to stay in touch and visit each other whenever possible. Sho had gone to travel, Kei to Sendai for school, Hitoka and Tadashi stayed for school before she went to Tokyo and he stayed in Miyagi. Tobio was picked up by the national team immediately after graduation, to play in Rio. I was accepted into a university in Osaka, and he moved in with me when he got back.” You ignored the way Atsumu’s hands tightened their grip when you said his name.

“It was perfect, we- we were doing fine, or at least I thought we were.” Your voice cracked and you took a shuddering breath before continuing. “He traveled between Tokyo and Osaka a lot and of course for games but it never bothered me, I knew what I was getting into. Eventually, Sho came back, and joined your team, moving into an apartment not far from ours. I was so happy.” You whispered the last sentence, afraid if you said it too loud it’d sound like a lie.

“I hadn’t noticed any changes, he didn’t seem withdrawn or unaffectionate, he was like he always was, until he wasn’t. He came home one night and said he didn’t love me like that anymore, that he couldn’t love me the way I loved him. He- he said he tried to, he said he tried for a long time, in case it was a slump but it wasn’t. And all-all I could think about was the way he said it, like he had been thinking about this for a long time, he looked so tired like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders as he told me the last who knows how long was a lie.

“He left and stayed at a teammate's house until he could get an apartment. He moved close by, I still don’t know why he didn’t move to Tokyo. Sho came and stayed with me for a few days, until I kicked him out so he could focus on the tournament that was coming up. He kept in touch with Tobio, and would update me when I asked.

“That was a year ago, and I know I should be over him, and I am, or I thought I was until I realized what today was and- and everything, all the emotions I had pushed down came back up, no longer letting me ignore them. All the grief and anger and insecurity kept rising and rising until I thought I was gonna drown. Which is when I called Sho, or at least I thought I did.” The corner of your mouth twitched into a small smile as you met his gaze.

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

“I- I think it would’ve been easier if he hurt too, if I saw that it affected him even half as much, because that would mean he had felt something, he had loved me at one point. And I don’t know, maybe he came to terms with it before he ended it, but seeing him with someone else, not even 3 weeks later just rubbed salt too deep into the wound that just seeing them happy together sent me into tears. When I ran into them days after I found out, when I saw with my own eyes how good he was, how happy he was without me; I don’t know how long I cried, but it was suffocating, it had such a tight grip on me I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t even realize Sho was there until he was hugging me.” You watched your tears fall onto your hands, leaving droplets on his pants. You took in a shuddering breath, suddenly meeting his gaze.

“I just- I don’t know what wrong with me, why can’t I let myself be happy?” Your voice cracked, and you brought a hand to your face, embarrassment simmering low in your gut. Atsumu gently pried your hand away from your face, replacing it with his own as he cupped your cheek. He wiped the tears that fell from your lashes with his thumb. He brought you forward to kiss the crown of your head before returning his gaze to you.

“Doll, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you, ya hear? Your heart was broken, it ain’t gonna fix itself in a day. You will be happy, I promise. Whenever we lose someone we love, a piece of us goes with them. He was sucha huge part of your life, I’d be more worried if you weren’t sad. I can’t say when, but one day you’ll notice it hurts less and less until you barely notice it. Until then you have me and everyone else to help you, so don’t hesitate to lean on us when you need to, got it?”

Your bottom lip wobbled and your eyes were glassy with tears yet again, though this time for a different reason. You threw your arms around his neck and crushed him into you as you cried his name. “I didn’t know you were such a softie! I bet no ones gonna believe me when I tell ‘em.” He wrapped his arms around you again, you were so close you could feel his laughter in his chest. “Yeah, and I didn’t know ya were such a cry baby.” You snorted and pulled away, “That’s on you, I am a well-known cry baby.”

You matched his grin, feeling lighter. You pulled yourself off his lap, but he didn’t let you get very far, pulling you into his side, your legs thrown over his thighs as you turned on the TV. You ended up falling asleep on your couch together, your neck cramped and you found out you drool, but it was worth it.

But I guess good for you

The next few months went by relatively quickly. There were a few hiccups, mostly on holidays, but you listened to what Atsumu had told you and you leaned on your friends during those times. Speaking of Atsumu, while you two were close before, after that night you felt even closer. You found yourself at the apartment he shared with Shoyo more and more. You came to every MSBY game you could, usually helping Osamu run his booth.

When you weren’t with him, Atsumu would often find you helping his brother run orders at the restaurant; under the guise of an apology for annoying him so often, but both twins saw how happy you were when you were working. Eventually, Osamu just gave you a position there, because he didn’t want to get caught exploiting free labor, not because he liked you or anything, you were just as annoying as his brother- or so he says.

The blonde hadn’t noticed just how much time the two of you spent together until you went to visit Yachi in Tokyo for a week, and had odd chunks of time with nothing to do. It was confusing, and frankly off-putting how different it was when you weren’t around. Everyone noticed of course, and teased him for it, more the team than Osamu, because he couldn’t deny he missed you too.

Despite your protests that it was just a 2-hour train ride from Tokyo, and maybe another 10-minute ride to the stop near your apartment, Atsumu insisted on picking you up from the station during your call earlier. “ ‘M not taking no for an answer doll, I’m picking ya up.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and sighed. “Fine, but I’m venoming you for the gas, no ifs ands or buts about it.” You smiled at the sound of his groan from the other line, good thing you were just as stubborn.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You were idly scrolling through your Instagram feed, about 10 minutes away from Osaka when you saw a glimpse of a ring, you scrolled back up and read the caption. ‘I’m the luckiest man in the world’ followed by a picture of what must’ve been Yumi’s hand, and adorned on her left ring finger was a large, and no doubt expensive, engagement ring. 6 months ago it would’ve summoned tears, but now you smile faintly, commenting your congratulations before scrolling past. Atsumu was right, eventually, it started to hurt less and less and now it was barely there.

You stood up when the announcement of your arrival in Osaka rang overhead, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bags to exit the train car. You immediately spotted your chauffeur, thanks mostly to the gaggle of young girls surrounding him as he laughed and signed autographs. You walked slowly, trying to buy time until they left but (un?)fortunately he spotted you. A wide grin stretched his features and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, lifting your hand in a small wave. He turned back to the girls and said something before breaking through, jogging towards you as you met him halfway.

You had an amused look on your face from his theatrics and the wide gazes of the girls he left behind. “Hey.” He said when he stopped in front of you. You snorted, “Hey.” He pouted at your tease, which only made it more funny, before rolling his eyes and taking some of your bags, giving you a pointed look when you tried to object. You huffed and walked next to him towards the exit.

You startled slightly when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you by your hip into his side. You looked up at him but he kept his gaze ahead, though you could see the slight flush to his cheeks and the slight twitch of a grin. You reciprocated, hooking your thumb through the belt loop by his hip as you kept your gaze ahead, his stare bringing a slight heat to your face.

He laughed lightly and you two continued out to his car where he tried to make you sit in the back seat because “ it’s not professional for a chauffeur to let their passenger sit up front.” You laughed before letting your face fall into a mock-serious stare and said “no.” in the best deadpan tone you could conjure up before climbing in.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him when he didn’t start the car. His hands were on the steering wheel and he was looking ahead in thought. “Atsumu?” He looked at you, smiling softly, still not saying anything. “Uhh you okay? Do I really need to sit in the back for you to be able to drive because-“ He laughed, waving your concerns off. “No, no, I’ll allow it this once. Sorry for spacin’ out, I’m happy yer home.” You looked at him incredulously, “ I was 2 hours away ‘tsumu.” You see a faint flush creep up his neck and he clears his throat, turning back to the wheel and turning on the car. ‘I know, I just missed ya ‘s all.”

You were just able to make out his dejected mumble, quietly huffing in amusement as you glanced down briefly before turning to look forward, biting back the smile at his flinch when you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your lap as you intertwined your fingers. “I missed you too, ya big softie.” Smiling, he squeezes your palm before focusing on the road, and you feel something stir, a bud sprouting from the once hollow place in your chest. It hasn’t bloomed yet, but you have a feeling it will soon.

[wizkiddx]

i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream. 

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself)  ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned. 

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes. 

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily. 

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting. 

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.” 

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds. 

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile. 

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out. 

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself. 

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl-  he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it. 

“Will you chill please?” 

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner. 

Home for 5 weeks. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully. 

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came. 

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have. 

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was  so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle. 

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face. 

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.” 

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted. 

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee. 

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate. 

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself? 

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers. 

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle  of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side. 

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation. 

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm’; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show. 

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you. 

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning. 

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it. 

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank. 

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open.  Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear? 

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle. 

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced. 

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile. 

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt. 

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head. 

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.” 

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different. 

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle. 

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Getting Over You by Lauv

Summary: Unexpected things happen all the time but meeting him was one of the best parts of it.

Pairings: Atsumu Miya x gn!reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags, Genre: implied enemies to semi lovers! trope, slight angst, curse words, timeskip! Atsumu

A/N: pls i didn't intend to change it last minute but pls let me know if u liked it cuz im still having second thoughts <3

“No- I’m sorry.” Atsumu says as you felt your heart snap and break into two distant pieces. You already limited your expectations but there was a miniature amount of hope that you held onto and that was when you should’ve lost your grip.

“It’s fine, ‘Tsumu.”

It obviously wasn’t. No matter how loud the cries of your heart were, what mattered to you in this moment was to forget it ever happened- to run away and never face another failed trial of love. Atsumu can see past your smile and he hated the way it had to end in a way he avoided. There would be a time where his feelings would be up to confrontation but when it finally happened, he’d became a coward.

He was late to realize what the outcomes could lead to. How certain was he that your paths would meet again? How was he sure that he can revert this scenario in a better way that he wanted when you were losing your hold onto him?

“I have to go but it was nice knowing you, Miya.” Your lips were tugged in a weak smile while he questions why his body lacked the power to move but what resumes to play in his mind was the way his name escaped your lips like it was a curse to say it.

Turning your heel, there was an ache in Atsumu’s head. Was it regret? His decisions tied in knots? His emotions unable to declutter themselves? Hesitantly, he reaches for you. His hand wrapped around yours as you glanced down on his soft skin you used to despise to get near to.

His eyes told you stories that were hard to decipher all at once. His stories didn’t start with a setting, it started and ended with you, not a single page where you weren’t there but it seems like the chapters you had in your own story were being torn off to erase the traces of false hope.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry.” He whispers while you felt his hand tighten to make sure that you could stay- even if it lasted for a minute because he wasn’t sure fate could spare you two another moment.

But then, you softly removed his hold on you while the cold sweat runs down his forehead.

“It’s okay, ‘Tsumu. We were just never meant for each other.”

We could’ve been.

-

“Thank you for your time.” You bid the player as both bow each other as a way of manner. You gathered your bag as the athlete turns to you with a kind smile.

“I enjoyed the interview. I’m impressed at how prepared and professional you are. How long have you been doing this?” He asks, adjusting his outfit while you toss your bag on your shoulder with your camera slung around your neck.

“There was a journalism club back in my high school and I joined in ever since I was a first year.”

“You’re in college now?”

“Yes, sir.” He chuckles at your formality while he gives a pat to your shoulder.

“That’s good to hear. Goodluck with everything- I believe that you’ve got bright things ahead of you.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment while you bid your goodbyes. You step out of the hotel feeling the satisfaction hit you like a prize. The report can finally be simplified into a few more subtle fixes and maybe by 1am, you’d be able to present it to your professor without doubting your work.

Sighing happily, you decided to reward yourself to a lovely lunch with a view you often visited due to a reminiscent feeling that bubbles in your system. After ordering, you sat outside admiring the way the sun sets and leaves a lasting beauty before the moon shows.

The stress was fading from you. You had expected that the project would’ve taken weeks for you to finish knowing that some retired athletes usually avoid questions to why they left the sport they used to love. You had called a few, a struck of confidence was enough to make you do so but they often cancel your request because they either paid attention to your young age or because they weren’t ready to be asked such personal questions about them. You were lucky to score and interview with a well-known athlete whose had his fair share of the spotlight during his early 20’s. Sadly, his retirement was due to an accident and his weak body levels couldn’t bare the adrenaline of the sport. He was kind, patient, and understanding. Ever since he agreed, your attention was on the questions you’d lay upon him seeing that this was an opportunity you can’t waste. After gathering some of his past glories, you narrowed down your interrogation on what remains important to benefit the topic of your project. You were more than proud because of the compliment he had given you and the fact that you might be able to catch a break after a hectic week.

Opening your camera and flicking through the photos to decide on which you were going to use. Suddenly, a photo meets your sight. The peak of blonde and gray hair with a uniform that you missed.

The Inarizaki Volleyball Team.

Most especially, him.

A few years has passed since you’ve seen him and his brother. Osamu’s last interaction with you was filled with nothing but sweet memories and a hug that you could never forget the warmth of, while Atsumu’s last memory with you remained bittersweet- like a sour flavor in his tongue that never left. You tried too hard to forget fragments of your time with him but because of how much work you put yourself through, you lost time to reflect on the moments that didn’t hurt.

Half of your high school life was compressed into confusing parts of your story.

But the chapter that seems to be the most influential part of it, was where you got to meet the blonde who has stomped on your heart.

It was funny to be remembered as a person who had the guts to sneeze during the great Miya setters serve.

“Achoo!”

You immediately cover your face with your handkerchief as your sneeze echoed through the gym making Atsumu’s hand lose its power because he was stunned by the sound, the ball hitting the net instead as he almost hits Aran who was wide eyed that ball went his way. The team could hear Osamu’s ‘uh-oh’ and it was enough for them to know what the setter feels after the unfortunate event.

Atsumu grits his teeth as the other team cheers knowing they got the score while his head jolts to the crowd, aggressively searching for the one who messed up his serve. Even eyeing his fans who got scared by the way he turned his head in their direction.

Meanwhile, you’ve got glares surrounding you as your friend nudges you, letting out an exhale of disbelief that you’ve got death stares.

“We’ll get the next point ‘Tsumu, don’t worry.” Osamu says landing a hand to his brothers' shoulder while Atsumu readies himself for the serve of the opposite team.

“Whatever.”

After that certain match, Atsumu was more than determined to hunt down whoever caused the flunk of his serve. Silly as it is, he’s never heard someone dare to speak during his serve. He’d always let out a hand signal for them to be quiet- let it be known that if someone spoke, he’d be fine with it but a whole sneeze? He’d never let it go, especially when it resonated in his ears.

So, imagine the look on his face when he hears the exact same sound when he was just stopping by his locker.

“Fucking dust.” You said sniffling as you closed the door to your locker, and you were face to face with a wide-eyed Miya Atsumu holding out his finger and pointing it to you, as if he was accusing you of murder.

“It’s you!” He shouts making you raise your eyebrow at him, but the raise of his voice had intimidated you.

“What?” You asked him, not finding a single clue on whatever he was pertaining to.

“You messed up my serve by sneezing.” He says in the tone of ‘as-a-matter-of-fact’ making you lick your lips, a hand to your hip as you looked at him.

“I’m not apologizing for something I can’t control.” You were completely baffled by this man. Sure, you were his classmate, but this was your first year and you barely cared to take notice of all of them, only focusing on your school group that had you busy.

“You could’ve held it for like 2 more seconds at least.” You blinked before letting out a tired exhale as you eye him up and down. The setter of the school's volleyball team, you were aware of that because of how many matches you’ve been dragged to, but he’s never come up to you before.

This was a whole other introduction.

“Miya, right?” You asked him as he steps forward, looking down on you with a sly smirk.

“I guess I’m sorry.”

Atsumu stays silent for a few seconds but returns to his angry pout as he continues to stare at you.

“What’s your name?” Atsumu asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Y/N.”

From thereon, it looked like your life’s plot had spiked up. Atsumu was- you could call it as a miscalculation. Someone so loud and had his ego constantly fed was not someone you would stick around due to your strict schedule of balancing schoolwork and papers from your club. It was like a bump in the road wherein the objects in your car would’ve been juggled around because of the impact- that's what it felt like. Thinking that two years would’ve passed by like a breeze, time slowed down with him. The constant bickering and arguments were embedded in you like a tattoo. The way his cackle would echo through your ears when he’d struck a nerve to you, the way he’d purposely call you nicknames you swore you hated, to the same jokes can be dragged on for hours, and how every fiber of your body promised you’d leave when you’ve had enough.

But promises were always broken.

You stuck around and he did too. Atsumu provided you with his trust and company whenever you needed it. It’s a pleasant experience but it surely wasn’t at its best. What comes with it were headaches and harsh words but having a person who knew you until graduation and stayed was a different reason. He was a familiar, a person who isn’t a call away when you needed it but being in their presence would give you a pinch of comfort.

Maybe the only thing you can thank Atsumu for is getting to know his twin brother.

You accidentally sent a text to Osamu about you panicking about a missing file to be passed the following day and Osamu was up and ready to help you locate it. After finding it, you decided to treat him for being a life saver and he of course, was having the time of his life for the free food- it was also his favorite restaurant at that moment. During this time, you’ve got to talk more about each other. Months pass now Osamu and you were way better friends than you and his brother.

You and Osamus’ bond were the type that was just so serene, hardly any type of judgement when you’d bring up a problem, and all secrets were kept tight.

Osamu was the shoulder you can lean on, while Atsumu’s would shove your head away when you do so.

Your friendship drifted away when Atsumu stabbed your heart with the words “No.” and “I’m sorry.” You hesitated that day, to dial Osamu’s phone the way you used to, but it never happened. Your sobs muffled your voice and if you called him, he’d never understand a word that you’d say.

The opposite is that Osamu would understand everything.

Because you and Atsumu mirrored the same amount of pain.

He’d never seen his brother so- ruined. Atsumu’s thin walls didn’t shield his shouts of sorrow while Osamu withstood every bit of the torture show his brother had. Checking him on the next day, the setter was fast asleep with bags under his eyes and a red nose, clutching onto his pillow so tightly.

Osamu knew that day that the damage has been done and not a single band aid would mend the two shattered hearts.

-

Atsumu strolls to the around looking for a restaurant along with his teammates. The sun has fully set making the streets of Japan light up with how busy and crowded they were. Bokuto and Hinata were busy pointing at stands that had their favorite slabs of meat while Sakusa trails behind them with a mask, wanting to be removed from the push of people. As the eyes of the blonde land on a certain stand with multiple notes stuck onto a board, he smiles fondly. He then sees two kids running with smiles on their lips as they held each other's hand, obviously excited to explore the night.

“Come on, don’t be a wuss.” Atsumu says as you rolled your eyes and thought hard about his hand that was held out in front of you. Atsumu grunts before taking your hand in his before you could even decide properly. You followed his lead as he walked you through the sea of people. You were nervous that he had left practice to accompany you. Observing you from afar, you looked devastated, but you continued the rest of the day with a smile like nothing happened. Seeing that you looked dull talking to Karou, he pulled you away from whatever void of sadness you surrounded yourself in.

“Atsumu shouldn’t you be at practice?” You asked sighing, still with his hand in yours as you stopped by a stand.

“I should be but whatever that Karou did is obviously hurting you, you idiot.” Your eyes widened at his statement and this reaction confirmed his suspicions as anger forms inside of him. What could that boy have done to get you this upset? Did he physically hurt you? Atsumu hated how he cared- it wasn’t his business to meddle with but the frown on your lips was something he wanted to remove from you.

“Thank you.” You muttered as he buys you the same thing he ordered. He sees how you weren’t as colorless as before. The lights of the night brought saturation to your features as his eyes adored every feature of yours.

“It’s nothing.”

“Atsumu-san?” Hinata asks, tapping the boy on the shoulder while the blonde awakens from his escape.

Atsumu looks around once more, seeing that there wasn’t a trace of you, he moves on.

Like he was supposed to do in the first place.

-

“For our new assignment, why don’t we take the vice versa of your last project. Retirement is inescapable but why not find the reason they’d got into the sport. What makes it so exhilarating and unforgettable? That will be our topic this week. I’m giving you a week for interviews, photos, and articles. Video format is more suited for this task. Is that clear?” You all nodded as you wrote down the list of possible athletes to meet, jotting down an outline of some key points to remember.

“A tip for you all: look for the younger generations. It doesn’t matter to me what status the athlete stands in right now, it could be a friend or even a child. What I’m looking for the depths of the details in your research.” The professor stands making all of you bid him goodbye as he walks out of the room. You gathered your notebooks, sighing that you won’t have the time to properly rest- an exam was near right at the submission of your new task. You realized that you needed to sort out the things you were required to do before everything would pile up and get tangled in the short amount of time.

Who should I interview? God, everyone is so busy at this season. You thought. It’s true- you realized that matches were always lined up by this month. You also had classes to attend to and your mind could collapse at any given moment. You were more than worried about organizing your time properly but the feeling that you’d have several sleepless nights haunts you. You wished he could have extended the submission- though it didn’t get any better since after exams you tended to be drained from studying all night.

Going back to your apartment, you decided to put sticky notes all over your wall to help you sort out your priorities. Tomorrow would be Saturday meaning that you’ve done all the works to be passed on Monday and that you had zero meetings or classes. Saturday and Sunday would be divided to work parts, by Monday you should be up and running to work again.

You couldn’t let go of this group. It had given you countless of opportunities- even an offering to be an editor at a well-known magazine agency. You were in queue for the letter, so you decided to continue with the tasks of the group. You were thankful that you got used to the craziness of it all. The ability to multitask, to put the phone down once in a while, managing your time, those were just one of the benefits of getting used to it. The things you hated was that you barely had time for yourself. To lounge and just do nothing never met with what you were doing. You envied how some people from your group would plan some hang outs during a busy week and you always questioned how they managed to do it all without panicking.

You yawned as you felt your stomach growl at the scent of the delicious street food. Seeing that you fell short on money because the amount that was in your wallet was enough for your way home, it meant you’d have to wait to eat dinner until you came home. Letting out a groan you decided to walk your way even if you get shoved. God, you were starving and exhausted. The emotions were starting to fill you the more you moved. It didn’t help that everyone was so loud. You could hear the sound of the cackles from the drunken men in the corner, the cries of the baby that brought irritation to your eardrums and even the off-key singing of a (possibly) drunk girl at karaoke. You just wanted to cover your ears and crawl back to your bed not caring if you’d only be able to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep.

As you walked, you felt a boiling pile of liquid drip to your stomach making you let out a yelp as your clothes were drenched in the coffee stain that you despised. The liquid got to your skin making you wince at just how it impacted on your skin. You felt your eyes water as the woman tried to pat away the drink but instead made it worse because you wanted the fabric to be away from you as possible- which was the opposite of what she was doing.

“Oh my god- I'm so sorry.” She kept saying while patting your abdomen while you tried to wave her off, but she kept going making the tears flow from your eyes as you chose to walk away, covering your face at how humiliated you were. You sobbed in your hands as you bumped into someone before removing them from your face to find a bench to sit on but seeing that people were already turning their heads to look at you, you’ve had enough already.

Finally finding your bus stop, you sat down burying your face in the palm of your hands sobbing as your mind replays how you’ve made a fool out of yourself for the last time. Everything was going terribly and you didn’t know how to control it without losing your cool. Sure, you’ve managed to escape the people but the feeling is still badly glued to you.

“Is everything okay?”

Someone asks but the voice became a blur to you because you were so focused on your sobs and the unstable breathing.

“Go away.” You whispered but there was a weight added to your left side as you kept your face hidden behind your hands.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” The man says looking down before standing up to leave the bench, making you intake in a sharp exhale, relieved he left.

“Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult? How am I gonna interview a volleyball player at this state?” You rambled on thinking that guy has exited your business and was free from companion.

“I mean- we’re not close- but I’m a volleyball player?”

You wiped your eyes as your heart started to run a mile now that you’ve familiarized yourself with his voice.

Lifting your head, there in front of you was the one thing that your heart had wished to see.

“Atsumu?”

His eyes widen as his chest expands, his heart growing ten times bigger than it was while it beats like a drum on heavy metal song.

“Y/N- I didn’t know- wow.” Breathless, speechless, weak- those were the words that defined your emotions. You wanted to pass out- to act like you just mistaken him for a person but he was real and you had a hard time believing it.

“Atsumu?" God, he missed it. The way his name would fall of those taunting lips of yours. The tone in your voice leading him back to the memories that he couldn’t push away.

You had to believe it. There was no other way that your starvation can make you this delusional. You called his name like you were unsure that he was ever real- like a character your brain had developed to cope with your sorrows. You dared to touch him, maybe if you did it would be a wisp of air but you were scared that if you reached out to him, you could feel his skin and remember how you wanted it to be within your grasp all the time.

Perhaps it’s a dream but this time you’d never want to wake up if this was the only way you can be together.

“Y/N..I- how are you?” How could he manage to act so civil? Your presence shocked him like electricity in his veins, pumping his heart at an unusual speed. His voice was unsteady and low, experiencing the same thoughts like you.

It’s like he was dragged back to your last encounter. Seeing your eyes filled with so much agony and how you looked so torn from his rejection, it’s the same look that you had now. It’s like his eyes were playing a risky game with him but he couldn’t complain since he’s been wanting to see you ever since you let go.

“Well, I’m burned-out that’s for sure.” You said with a light chuckle as he sits back down, wondering if it’d be alright to be close to you.

“What’s this interview about?” He asks, fiddling with the strings of his jacket while you tore your eyes away from him because you knew the admiration for him would erupt anytime soon.

“What got athletes into the sport in the first place.” Atsumu places his finger under his chin, thinking deeply about what offer he just made.

It’d mean that he could be in the same room with you for more than the hours he spent crying to himself but why waste the chance? You needed it- heck you wouldn’t be this distraught if you weren’t so affected by it. There was a never-ending list of things to do but meeting with Atsumu wasn’t even in your list of expectations because you were over with hoping into something that takes a miracle.

But he is the miracle.

“Atsumu..I don’t want you to see me like this.” You said, looking down on your hands that were on your lap, letting your hair fall in front of you to avoid his concerned gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t seen you in years, this is not what I planned to look like when I first see you.” Atsumu feels his heart frown at how low you spoke of yourself, but he understood. If you saw him in the state that you were in right now, he too would feel like he could’ve done or look better, even at least handle the situation without crumbling apart.

He knew you were in a troubled place of your mind but he just wonders where you could talk about why everything fell apart.

He missed the way it was casual to talk to you. Maybe an insult as a greeting, or a flick to the arm but he never expected to talk to you with his heart dropping in your hands. He just couldn’t forget the way you’d let him go that day during graduation, it’s almost like the sensation was still lingering around his palm even if he held a ball.

He just wished he said yes, only then, you’d be meant for each other.

“Do you mean it?” You asked sighing, not baring the weight of his silence. The pace of his heart quickens as he starts to worry if this was the confrontation that he held back all these years.

“The interview.” He was more than glad to do it. He was thankful that you weren’t talking about the bad memories or the circle of tension you two were in.

He looks at you while another strike was given to his heart seeing you this way. He’d do everything to bring back the color in your features.

“Of course.”

You smiled at his words as you both stand up but you felt conscious about the stain that was still stuck to your shirt making you desperately try to hide it by pulling your bag to the messed up section. Atsumu didn’t know that the person he had followed was the same person that got coffee dipped down on them. He didn’t recognize you at first because you had your hands covering your cries. He was worried for you when you ran off but when he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe if it was luck or a granted wish.

“Just wear this.” He says, handing you placing his jacket on your shoulders as your heart flutters at how he looked at you, completely filled with sincerity and the way his hand stayed on your shoulder.

“What the fuck do you want?” He asks you with a knife-like stare, purposely bumping harshly into you.

“Wow Miya, I was just walking.” You said returning the same fuel that he had.

“Then get out of my way then.”

“Thank you.” You said smiling lightly. He catches a glimpse of your smile and he feels his world light up at the sight of it.

I missed you.

“So where to?” He asks as you walk beside him just like old times. His height still intimidating you but it was still difficult to believe that this was the same Atsumu you had fallen for in high school.

“My apartment. We missed the bus so I hope it’s okay for you to wait.”

“I can always drive us there.” You’ve never whipped your head faster than this moment. You always trusted Osamu when he said that Atsumu couldn’t be a better driver than his own brother because Atsumu liked to rev up the engine like one of those scenes in a movie.

With the thought in your mind, you laughed.

Atsumu stops walking as he lets himself dwell at the sound of it.

Then there was a smile that he couldn’t contain.

“Sorry for laughing, ‘Tsumu. Never pictured you to have a car earlier than ‘Samu that’s all.” You explained as he chuckles, continuing to be beside you, a place that he finds himself to be the happiest.

“Yeah yeah I get it- I’m a little careless but not all the time y’know?” He says while he leads the way. The breeze felt comfortable now, it had a tweak of coldness but maybe it was just the atmosphere of you two.

When you walked to his car and told him your address, there was another silence but you tried to tell yourself that this was just Atsumu. Nothing to be worried about because you’ve known him for too long to act like all distant.

This is Atsumu- that's every reason that there is to feel nervous around him.

“How long have you been living there?” He asks while you started to feel just how badly you wanted to give in to sleepiness. You shifted once in a while to control yourself from falling asleep in his damn car. Every urge to just lay quiet for a while but you knew this would lead to a deep slumber.

“Ever since graduation.” You answered, annoyed that his jacket was inviting you to lay there and sleep away your stress though you were scared that once you wake up- Atsumu would be gone again.

“And you didn’t call to tell me about it?” He jokes but the chuckle that he expected never came because he knew just how awkward it’d be if you actually called just for that sole reason. Atsumu bites his lip at his failed attempt to drag the conversation on.

Then you giggled.

“I wanted to but I wouldn’t wanna bother the famous MSBY player.” You said smiling at him, proud that he continued on. You knew from Osamu of course, a single update when he had mentioned how well his restaurant had become, you also saw them in a poster once, even recognizing a few of his past opponents.

“Well, it would be a shame.”

There you are.

You finally arrived at your apartment and again you felt the slice of satisfaction as you removed your shoes and placed them on the table. You were partly thankful that your apartment was clean since you never have the time to spend a whole day in it only coming home late at night. Atsumu looks around as you prepare him a drink and a few snacks-it'd be rude not to.

Atsumu sees the photos where you won several awards for your loyalty and hardwork at your club. He sees how time passes and you grew into a version of you that he finds even more flawless then before. Your equipment and how everything was organized on your desk, he knew how much things changed because he used to see you doubt yourself every time you’d finish a paper but now you won awards because of them.

“Atsumu, is it alright if I shower real fast?” You asked while he raises a brow at you confused that you had to ask for his permission.

“Of course, Y/N- you didn’t have to ask.” He said chuckling while he sits on the couch, letting his eyes wonder around.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

“Please don’t rush yourself. Take yer time. “ He says while you smile at him before dashing to your room to gather new clothes, feeling like you’ve won a lottery with how happy you were to remove the coffee drenched top, tossing it to your laundry bin while you step into the shower enjoying the way the water decorated your skin, cleansing it from all the worries. While Atsumu scrolls on his phone to ease himself from the anxiousness. His finger would casually glide over Osamu’s phone number, to ask him what to do.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower like a whole new person. You saw the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up when you walked in but you pushed the thought away. He pats the seat next to him while you grabbed your notebook and pen, ready to scribble down the questions.

“Are there any uncomfortable questions you’d want to avoid?” You asked him while he shakes his head while you took note of the possible questions.

“Is it okay for the interview to be filmed?” He nodded while you leaned onto the pillow, sighing happily at how you’ve managed to calm down from the pile of embarrassment earlier.

“Thank you for doing this, ‘Tsumu- really you don’t know how much I appreciate you for this.” You said leaning your cheek on the side of the couch as Atsumu copies your actions staring at you lovingly.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He says smiling while you returned to write a list of questions for him. With every time you look down on your notebook, Atsumu’s eyes never left you while his mind recalls every moment where he msised the opportunity to tell you just how beautiful you were.

Soon, you’ve fallen asleep while he lets the feeling sink in.

I’ve never wanted to hold you more than I do now.

He sighs before placing the blanket on your body while he kneels down and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his finger tracing your cheek.

“You’ll never know how much I missed you.” He whispers while you shifted in your sleep meeting his face. Before he stands up, he feels you reach for him while he’s left surprise at your touch.

“Stay please.” You whispered while he smiles weakly, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I always will.”

-

The morning comes and you felt the blush creep on your cheeks remembering how easily you felt asleep. You wondered if Atsumu stayed, if he left- you couldn’t really blame him. So yawning and stretching when you woke up, you certainly didn’t expect to see Atsumu cooking you some breakfast. You couldn’t even move your legs, every part of you has gone stiff just admiring the way he moves.

“Hey, good morning.” He greets with a wave, a spatula in his hand, a bright smile tugged on his lips.

“Atsumu- oh god I’m so sorry.” You said as you went to him. You caught a whiff of what he was cooking and you swore you could’ve drooled knowing you didn’t even got the chance to eat dinner. Atsumu knew that of course so he called Osamu up in the morning to serve you the best breakfast he could ever make. He was initially supposed to make you dinner but you fell asleep before he could do it so this was his rebound.

“Idiot, it’s fine. Just sit down on the table and I’ll prepare the food.”

“Atsumu-“

“Just go, Y/N. I promise it’s okay- you deserve to rest before you work again.” You couldn’t even think properly with his words. It was so minimum but it was something you’d forget to do- rest. Hearing him remind you that sets a new feeling in your system. You did obey him though, you sat on the table as he even handed you coffee for him and you, placing the breakfast on the table. God, he was everything. You thought that after a few years, you two would completely drift apart but it seems like you were wrong for the hundredth time.

“Please don’t even think about ways to thank me, it’s nothing to me. “ He says taking the seat next to you while you place the food on his plate. You couldn’t even utter a word at how grateful you were for him and he’d be happy to get used to seeing you first thing in the morning.

“Atsumu, after breakfast can we have a run down of the questions first?” You asked him, growing more comfortable.

“Yeah sure.”

-

You sat on the couch, placing your camera on the table aligning it to the best possible angle as Atsumu sits down in front of you. You had your notebook on your lap as he praises how you looked so professional even if it was just a practice.

“Ready?” You asked while he nods with a smile as you pressed the camera to shoot so you could keep your composure, even if you struggled to.

“What does the sport mean to you?” You asked him, your eyes glimmering with the suns rays hitting it perfectly, while the words were removed from Atsumus mind. Seeing his hesitation, you decided to reassure him.

“It’s fine if you can’t answer straight away. I can always change the question if you like.” You commented, smiling at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed to answer. He nods, still not finding the exact same words to describe what he wanted to say.

“I’ll change the question for now.” You said while he let’s out a sigh before listening to you once again.

“What was the biggest struggle in your career?” He sends you a worried stare but his mind nearly bursts at his answer.

“Getting over you.”

You dropped your pen on the couch as Atsumu continued to speak since this was the answer his heart was sure of responding to.

“I tried to forget- I did. For every year that passes, the more fucking harder it gets to act like I didn’t love you back when you walked away.”

“Atsumu-“

“I know I said no- I was too late to realize how stupid I was to be scared of falling for you. I couldn’t let myself be the man who could love you when all this time I tried to hate you because I knew I would hurt you- and I already did.”

We get hurt a lot but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you.

Love grew and died during your second year at Inarizaki.

Before Atsumu, you found Karou. A boy who was a new recruit to your group whose helped you multiple times and has shared a conversation with you about your similar likes. There was this strange infatuation with him that even Osamu had to question how deep was the bite of love on you. You’ve fallen, of course. Occasionally leaving notes on his desk to just let him know how he made your day but it never worked. He would only paste the note on another persons desk like it was nothing. Not even getting the reaction you wanted, it felt too normal when it shouldn’t be. Realizing how this was just rejection in the shadows, you gave up. Obviously heart broken at the mere thought of how your chances were blown away. When Atsumu saw how gloomy you were that day, he had to show you how much you didn’t need Karou and there grew a different bond between the both of you.

And with a bond like that, you became attached to him.

It was all becoming clearer and clearer as you realized that you fell for the wrong person first.

“You’re too stupid to fall for a douche like him. “ He says kicking the rock that was in front of him.

“You’re lucky with that admirer of yours, Miya. I’ve never seen someone stick around you for so long.” You teased. It’s true the half of the twin hearthrob has gotten himself a sincere admire. It wasn’t one of his crazy fans- this was a person who genuinely cared for him and the words on every note he received would make the poor boy blush uncontrollably and you envied how he’s yet to realize that he too was falling for this unknown person.

While you two were oblivious to the slip up of the universe, it took a toll on you.

Because the notes you’d leave on Karous desk, always ended up on Atsumu’s instead.

“I wanna meet them so bad. Just to see if they actually care and it’s not a prank. They haven’t given me a note and it’s been what a month? I doubt it was ever real.”

“With the amount of effort they gave, I’m sure it was real.”

It’s real for me even if it shouldn’t be.

There wasn’t any other way then to accept the feelings that stayed on your skin. The moments where you thought that being around Atsumu would bring you stressful banters and more, it turned into butterflies that surrounded your room. You chose to deny it at first but remembering that graduation and good-byes were near, you had to tell him at some point.

And when you did, you poured your heart out and not even a single drop was caught.

“Last words before I forget your dumbass?” He taunts while you felt your sweat drip down the side of your forehead as you couldn’t control it anymore. You wondered if there was a simple word to describe just how much you adored him without turning it into a whole speech. This was it- you had to do it or else you’d end up being stuck on the feeling of loving him.

“I..like you Atsumu and I can’t say good-bye without telling you.”

Then there was the awful silence that he gave making you clutch onto your shirt, preparing you for the worst.

But by the way he looked so terrified and frozen, you knew.

“Atsumu?”

“No- I’m sorry.”

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I let you leave again.” He whispers as he leans closer to you, taking your hands in his while your ability to speak has been taken away by how gentle he was as his thumb caresses your hand and a look that looked so fragile.

He takes his hand and cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as his vulnerability increases.

“Do you feel the same too?” He was being so careful because a wrong choice of a word could make it all fall apart again and you could feel how tense he was but he holds you like a gem- something so beautiful that it’d cost him his life if he ever dropped you.

Your hand lands on the same hand that was on your cheek while Atsumu’s eyes widen remembering how you neglected to hold his hand before.

But it stayed.

Closing your eyes and melting in his touch, you spoke.

“I never stopped loving you, Atsumu.”

He lets his forehead rest on yours, a smile on his lips, who was soon to be on yours.

“Then be mine all over again.”

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: im so sorry i know i need to start editing these

***

Nesta stands in her guest room at Cassian’s cabin, hands on her hips as she eyes the garbage bags full of things she managed to salvage from her old apartment. 

All of her rain-soaked clothes sit in two huge bags, waiting to go through the laundry, while her books are carefully spread out on the windowsill, floor, and anywhere they can catch enough sunlight to dry their pages. Nesta almost cried when she saw that Lorene had salvaged her few adult coloring books and the art supplies to go with them, still dry. 

For a brief moment, she’s glad she didn’t buy any physical copies of her textbooks this year— the loss of that money would be too much to bear.

A brief knock sounds at her door, and Nesta spins to find Cassian standing there, laundry basket in hand. “I can take your clothes down for you if you want,” he offers, lifting his own basket with a hand. 

Nesta’s lips tighten. He wants to do her laundry with his. Their laundry will get cleaned together. Her underwear will get tangled up with his. 

Cassian’s brow furrows. “Nesta?”

This is her new reality now. She’ll have to accept it at one point or another. 

“We can do separate loads if you want,” Cassian adds. “Feyre told me you— well, she said you might be more uncomfortable with some things than others. It’s totally fine if you don’t want your clothes mixing—”

“No.” Nesta finally snaps out of it. “I don’t care about the laundry. My clothes are right here.”

 Because she has a sneaking suspicion she might be being unintentionally bitchy again, Nesta helps Cassian drag her bags of drenched clothes downstairs. 

“I feel sort of bad for bullying you into this deal,” Cassian rambles as he dumps clothes into the washer. “Which is why I need you to know you can enforce whatever rules and boundaries you want while you’re here. If you’d prefer I never speak to you for the rest of your time here, I can manage that, too.”

Nesta looks at him with a hint of disbelief. Sometimes he says the oddest things. “I don’t want you to never speak to me again.”

There’s relief in his sagging shoulders. “That’s good,” he says as he pours out detergent. “I mean, I was a little worried you were against this so much because you hated me, but you don’t know me enough to hate me, do you?”

Hate. Nesta rolls the word over her tongue, tastes the hard corners of it, and decides it doesn’t fit for Cassian. Not even close. She wonders how to articulate this to Cassian.

She settles on: “You seem nice enough. Obviously, since you’re letting me live in your luxury mountain cabin for free. But I don’t want to set any boundaries while I’m here. You shouldn’t have to change your normal lifestyle just for a guest. Do whatever you want; it’s your place.”

Cassian presses a button and the rumble of the washing machine begins. “I want you to be comfortable,” he says, turning to face her completely. “Whatever you need, Nesta, seriously.”

For starters, it would make Nesta comfortable if he didn’t say her name like that. His earnestness makes her skin itch, but she’s not going to tell him that. 

Instead, she bravely lifts her chin. “I’ve been pushed so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t think I know how to find my way back.” The honest truth. “At this point, you might as well keep me out here.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow. “If you don’t tell me what things bother you, I’ll have to find them out for myself, you know.” It sounds like a challenge.

“Go ahead,” Nesta deadpans. She doesn’t know what Feyre’s told him about her, but contrary to popular belief, Nesta isn’t a glass doll. Sensitive, high maintenance, yes, but fragile? Never.

She turns on her heel and leaves Cassian in the laundry room, determined not to let her circumstances get the better of her while she stays here.

***

Cassian takes everything back. He’s obsessed. 

He can’t pinpoint the exact moment, how or when or why he decided he likes Nesta. Maybe it was an amalgamation of different things, but by the time she settles onto his living room couch with a box of takeout Thai food, it’s safe to say he’s fascinated.

She’s nothing like how Feyre talks about her. She’s barely anything like the woman he met at the dinner party two years ago. The problem is, Cassian hasn’t pinpointed what she’s like. There’s still too many walls in place, but here, as she slurps noodles unabashedly while watching TV with an intense fixation, she’s softer than he’s ever seen her. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t feel the need to defend herself to a sitcom; there’s no self-consciousness, only a deep focus on the Community episode they’re currently watching.

Cassian splits his focus between offering commentary in an attempt to make Nesta laugh and observing her reactions from the corner of his eyes. A few things he’s noticed so far: 1) Her cheeks bulge like a squirrel’s when they’re full of food; she seems to have no shame about this. 2) She isn’t inclined to respond to Cassian when he makes comments on the show, but the corners of her mouth tilting up imply that she likes it anyway. 3) She watches sitcoms like she’s studying for a final exam about them. 

When the episode finally ends, she turns to him and glances at his hands. “Are you going to eat that?” she says. 

Cassian glances down at his untouched container of food, a little surprised, but hands it over to her without a fight. He can’t pretend it doesn’t do something to him to see her eyes light up over something as simple as curry and rice. 

Nesta’s poking her chopsticks around the box when she notices Cassian watching. “What?” she says, immediately on the defensive.

“You eat funny,” he admits. Her brows furrow so deeply he thinks they might create a permanent indentation. He’s quick to add, “It’s adorable. Seriously.” It isn’t something he would have said yesterday, but he’s taking Nesta’s words from the laundry room to heart. He won’t put a damper on his personality as long as she can handle it. 

Her hand comes up to self-consciously touch her cheek, but she quickly drops it. “Play the next episode,” she says as she picks up her chopsticks again, and that’s the end of that.

***

Cassian wastes no time coming up with ways to push Nesta out of her comfort zone, just as he promised. The next morning, he greets her downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Nesta takes a long, slow blink at his bare torso, muscled arms, and brown skin, and turns around to get started on making breakfast. It’s not good enough— he catches a glimpse of her reddened cheeks when she reaches for the milk container anyway.

It’s only until they’re both settled in the living room after dinner that he realizes he doesn’t have the upper hand he thought he did. 

Nesta is stretched out on her stomach on the Persian rug in an oversized tee and nothing else. Her bare legs swing in the air behind her, and she’s listening to music and coloring. 

Cassian’s unanswered emails sit abandoned on the phone in his lap. He truly can’t stop staring; there’s just too much to absorb.

For starters, she wears glasses. Big, round, gold-rimmed glasses that are almost slipping off her nose at the moment. That revelation alone is so affecting that he has to quickly move on to other, smaller details. Like the sound of her uncapping different markers and filling in smooth lines on the page before her. Cassian feels a desperate desire to see what she’s coloring. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and her legs…

Cassian can’t say that ever since he first took notice of the beauty mark at the corner of Nesta’s lush mouth that he hasn’t wondered where else on her body she might be hiding little moles and freckles. He just never expected to get an answer so soon. Because right there, where her shirt rumples up to reveal her bare thigh, is the smallest dark spot. 

He wants to put his mouth on it. 

His own thoughts take him by surprise, and he realizes he’s gripping his phone so hard the screen might crack. 

He uncurls his fingers from the phone and squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of desire crashing into him. Desire and something else, something achingly fond and frustrated at the same time.

“Cassian?” The sound of his name has his eyes snapping open. Nesta’s watching him, brow furrowed. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

He feels stupid for trying to play this push-and-pull game with Nesta, because it’s barely even started and he’s already losing. “I’m gonna go put a shirt on,” he mutters, moving to get up.

Nesta’s lips turn down a little. “And ruin the view?” She says it completely seriously, not a hint of slyness to her words.

Cassian’s ass falls back into his seat in pure surprise. His eyes widen. “Was that a joke?” Did Nesta Archeron just make a joke?

Her frown turns deeper. “I don’t think so. Was it funny?”

“It was teasing.”

“Then it wasn’t a joke.” She shrugs and returns back to her coloring. “If you put a shirt on, I’m putting my pants on,” she says without looking up. 

Cassian has absolutely no idea what he’s gotten himself into. But he doesn’t move from the couch for the rest of the evening. 

***

By the end of the weekend, Nesta has gotten the hang of being around Cassian. There are several occasions in those first couple of days— slips of the tongue, really— where she pauses in trepidation, worried she’s said or done too much. She is always doing too much. But then Cassian grins, or laughs, or as of more often lately, teases her right back, and her muscles can relax again. 

He has also relaxed around her. Nesta knows that quiet front he put up when they first met was partly for her benefit, because the more comfortable they become with each other, the more he reminds her of the Cassian Feyre’s always talking about. And yet, the person he is with her is nothing like the person she’s seen hanging around Feyre’s inner circle. This person doesn’t make her feel excluded or ignored. It’s the exact opposite— she hasn’t been on the receiving end of this much male attention since Tomas. 

And as much as it surprises her to like it so much, she’s not in the mood for his particular brand of teasing at seven in the morning on a Monday. 

She stumbles into the kitchen fully dressed and more than a bit disgruntled, needing the strongest cup of coffee available to get through her morning classes today. Cassian is already sitting at the island with his laptop, and raises his brows to see her up this early. He dares to smile at her before the sun is even fully up. “Glad to see you woke up ready to play, Nesta.” 

Nesta almost throws her empty mug at his head. “Don’t talk to me,” she says, thumping her mug down beside the coffeemaker. 

Taunting becomes questioning as he eyes her outfit. “You have somewhere to be at this hour?”

“I’m a law student,” she grumbles, punching buttons on the coffeemaker. “I have morning classes three days a week.” It’s unacceptable, but it isn’t the worst thing she’ll go through as she tries to get her J.D.

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Who’s taking you to class?” Her car is still in for repairs, and she has yet to rent one to make up for it.

“I’m Ubering,” she tosses over her shoulder.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cassian says. “I’ll drive you.”

Nesta spins around at that. “No way in hell.” She throws whatever bite she has into her refusal. 

Cassian is unfazed. “It’s on my way to work.”

“You work from home.” He’s not even dressed.

“Then today is the day I’ll make a stop at corporate headquarters. My subordinates get to see my pretty face for once, you get to go to class, and we all win.” He grins, and in this moment Nesta truly hates his grin. It lights up his whole face in a way that should be illegal. He’s probably robbed banks with that grin. 

Nesta doesn’t have the brain capacity to argue with him. She doesn’t even feel like criticizing the fact that at twenty-seven, Cassian runs the entire security division of Night Court Inc. thanks to the help of the CEO, also known as his adoptive brother.

She’s never met anyone who makes nepotism look so good.

Grabbing her steaming coffee mug and taking a deep sip, unflinching at the feeling of her tastebuds being burned away, she meets Cassian’s expectant gaze. “Get dressed.”

***

When Cassian texts to ask her when she’s getting out of class, she doesn’t expect him to actually show up outside the law building with drinks and a paper bag of food. She has to stop and glance around for a moment, as if he could possibly be here for somebody else. 

Approaching him cautiously, Nesta takes the cup holder from his hand and inspects the contents. A green tea and a rainbow-colored slushie. She looks back up at Cassian, and he smiles. “Shall we?”

They end up settling under the shade of an oak tree on the lawn outside where her Principles of International Law class is held. “So how was your day?” Cassian asks as he bites into a burrito. 

Nesta can’t remember the last time someone asked her that and sounded genuine about it, and she almost doesn't know how to answer. “It's noon,” she says.

“Fine. How was your last four hours?”

“Nothing more interesting than yours.” She eyes his outfit at that. She’s never seen Cassian in this manner. Work Cassian wears expensive buttondowns tucked into slacks. Work Cassian must use some kind of fancy product on his hair to make it so flowy, because for the first time ever, he looks exactly like the amount of money he makes. “You look so...adult. I’d almost buy it if you didn't have the taste palate of a five year old.” Nesta sips from her tea.

He actually rolls his eyes at her. “You wish you had what it takes to handle an every-flavor-slushie.” Because that's what he’s drinking, a heart attack in a 32 ounce cup. 

“That's bait, and I’m not falling for it,” Nesta says through a mouthful of burrito. 

“You don't need to.” He offers the drink out to her. “Try it.” 

Nesta stares at the cup, chewing slowly. Usually the thought of sharing a straw with someone would disgust her, but— 

She just wants to know how it tastes. Swallowing quickly, she grabs the drink. “Whatever,” she mutters, and wraps her lips around the red straw. 

Cassian watches intently as she takes a deep pull. Ten different flavors hit her tongue at once, and she thinks her brain spasms. She's too tough to make a face, and swallows the slushie like it's nothing.

“You like?” Cassian looks hopeful.

Nesta slams the cup down. “It’s disgusting. My point was proven.”

He laughs. “Weak.”

More easy moments pass like this before he says, “I wish you came around Feyre’s more often. I could have gotten to know you earlier.”

Nesta stills, food halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

Cassian shrugs. “It just seems odd that we’ve talked more in the last three days than in the last three years I’ve known of you. Why don’t you hang out with Feyre like Elain does?”

She stiffens, and considers whether the conversation is even worth continuing. “Feyre’s always with you guys,” she chooses her words carefully. “There’s rarely time left for me.”

She waits for Cassian to tell her that sharing exists, and that she’s allowed to be at Feyre’s place with Feyre’s friends at the same time, but he just watches her patiently. Waiting for her to go on. 

“Besides, I used to come over all the time before my sister moved to Velaris. You were there, too.”

“I was?” That gets his attention; he drops his food and turns to face her fully. “What are you talking about?”

Nesta nods, but an odd, old feeling is bubbling up in her chest. It tastes hard and a little sad. “I doubt you noticed, but I was there. In the background while you guys got drunk or laughed together.”

He huffs an odd sort of laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have noticed you from a hundred foot radius from Feyre’s apartment. We’ve only seen each other twice before this weekend.”

Nesta is caught between disbelief and disappointment, but she hides it well with a scoff. “We’ve only spoken to each other twice, idiot. I’ve seen you plenty of times.”

Cassian looks like she just came up to him with scientific evidence that the sky is green and grass is blue, and he can’t wrap his mind around it. “That just doesn’t make sense,” he says.

Nesta raises a brow. “Are you implying I’m lying?”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, but— it’s like you’re saying I failed to notice a fucking lion in the room every time I didn’t see you. It’s just not something someone fails to notice. It’s impossible not to notice!” He throws his hands up.

You’re impossible not to notice. Nesta has no idea what to make of that, or whether she should be insulted or not. He didn’t say it with the same backhanded tone as so many of the people she knew in high school, but it didn’t sound like high praise, either. On the other hand, the words are so ironic they’re almost funny.

She settles for a shrug and begins sweeping up her napkins and trash. “Well, it isn’t impossible for a lot of people.” The look she throws him says clear enough, Including you.

He works his jaw, seeming upset, but helps Nesta up from the ground anyway. Walks her all the way back to his truck in near-silence and drives them home.

A/N: you’d think the ‘ready to play’ line was a cute reference but i actually just suck at writing banter so i needed to borrow from sarah.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy

if you want to be added or removed please send an ask or dm!

[lordabovehelpme]

ONE MORE! How about after an attack or something happens, the reader made a mistake and ends up getting hurt. Din gets super upset and says a lot of things that are hurtful towards the reader and instead of fighting back they kinda just nod and accept it. after a few days Din notices how the reader starts to act different and apologizes once he realized that the whole thing was because of him. Just some angst ya know? THIS IS SO MANY IM SORRY

Dead- Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: You’re sure you died, but maybe not. 

Warnings: Drowning! 

A/n: No, it’s totally fine. I love all your asks! :) I hope you like this one! 

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s surreal and calm under the icy water. It feels like you’re being held still in time and space. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be. The water should feel freezing and yet, you can’t feel anything. Your chest should be screaming for air but you feel tranquil, not needing anything and nothing needing anything from you. Existing and nonexistent all at the same time.

The world surrounding you is tinted blue and it stays invariably silent. Your hair floats around, framing your face as you look about. Light casts down from above, highlighting the vast water. You’re starting to get tired, eyelids slowly opening and closing. Bubbles work themself from your mouth until no more are left.

Everything fades away, you can’t feel anything. Death is comforting, you conclude. It’s like the moment just before you drift off into a deep sleep. It’s not lonely or spine-chilling like people say, it’s like a blanket of security has been placed over you.

Is this it? Is this the final page in your story? 

You feel warm and cozy, accepting your fate. Opening your eyes to take one more final look at the world, you’re met with a dark blob swimming towards you. You smile as you realize it’s your mandalorian. Reaching out, you cup his cheek before closing your eyes for good.

***

His heart stops as you sink under the water. Body moving on autopilot as he shoots the rest of the group. Running over to the hole in the ice where you were discarded so ruthlessly by the quarry. Bodies surround the area and yet he pays no mind to them. Not thinking twice before diving into the dark icebound abyss after you.

Swimming as fast as the beskar will allow him, he nearly gasps when you reach out to him. Heart dropping to the pit of his stomach when you smile and close your eyes.

No! No, no, no! This can’t be right! You’re not dead! You can’t be! Thoughts fly through his head as he pulls you both up to the surface.

Running to the Crest with you in his arms he checks your neck for a pulse. His blood runs cold when he finds nothing. Yanking off his helmet he presses his head to your chest, no breath.

The water from the lake mixes with the salty tears trailing down his face. He starts pumping over your heart, willing it to start.

“Come on, cyar’ika! Don’t leave me like this!” He’s begging now, wishing he could have only been a tad faster. If only he would have kept you in the ship. You’d be safe and sound then.

He takes a deep breath before smashing his lips to your own. Tilting your head back slightly, he forces the air into your lungs. He starts pumping again, tears blurring his vision.

“Please, please.” If only he had shot the quarry sooner. Then it wouldn't have been able to grab hold of you. The memory of the quarry holding you over the frozen lake, its hands wrapped around your neck, playing over and over again in his head. “Cyar’ika.” He murmurs. The sound of your scream is endless, repeating like a broken record.

It’s been at least six minutes of his desperate cycle before his muscles ache for a break. You’re not coming back, you’re gone. He rests his head on your chest above your heart. He’s wailing now, loud sobs filling the Crest.

The child runs over to your body. “She’s gone. Buir’s gone.” He is broken, like his entire soul shattered into billions of pieces. The child lifts a hand before closing his eyes. But not long after, it collapses into a slumber. He picks up his son and sets him in his hammock.

“Good try, but nothing we can do can help her.” He says more to himself than his son.

***

Lights flash behind your eyelids. Your stomach protests and sends waves of bile and water up your throat. Yanked out of your peaceful sleep you are brought back to the world. Failing your arms you cough and hack up at least a gallon of water. Clutching your newly started heart, you finally get all of the water out of your lungs.

“Cyar’ika?” It’s the whisper of your nickname that greets you first. You open your eyes into the pitch black of the hull.

“Tin can?”

Arms wrap around your body pulling you close. What happens next surprises you more though.

“Cyar’ika! How dare you leave the ship without telling me!” He’s growling and yelling at you. “Are you so weak that even an unarmed quarry captured you? And what was going through your head when he strangled you?”

“I’m sorry.” It comes out meek and timid.

“Saying sorry doesn’t change the fact that you got in the way of my entire plan!” He doesn’t understand why he is yelling at you. All of his anger for the quarry is being thrown onto you but he can’t stop it.

You nod your head while looking at the ground, tears welling up.

“Don’t ever, EVER, do that again. Just stay put when I tell you to!” He gives you one final glance in the dark before pushing his helmet back on and opening the hatch, walking out into the world.

You’re absolutely flummoxed.

***

It’s been three days since the incident, neither of you talk about it. You’ve been trying hard to please the mandalorian, trying to make up for your mistake.

He realizes something is wrong when you’re two hours into hyperspace and you’ve not uttered one word. “Cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”

You look up to him with the most innocent eyes. “Oh, nothing.”

“Come on, I know something is up. What is it?”

“Nothing, Mando.”

“See that's the thing, you never call me Mando, it’s always tin can. What is wrong?” He is starting to get agitated and you can tell.

“Nothing, I swear.”

His fist pounds on the arm rest. “Tell me!” He is yelling now. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Fine! You want to know what's wrong, then I’ll tell you.” You’re yelling back at him. “It’s the fact that I literally died and you have not said one thing except that it was my fault!” You take a shaky breath before continuing. “If I am such a nuisance and I always get in your way, then why didn’t you just leave me to die?”

You can’t tell if anything you’re saying is affecting him, because he just sits there. “Did you even care?” Your voice cracks with vulnerability. Biting your lip you look away from him as the tears slip from your eyes.

It's silent for a couple minutes before his own shaky voice says, “Oh cyare, if only you knew how much I care.” He reaches for your hand but you flinch away. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I was mad at the quarry and it all was projected onto you.”

You face his visor, locking eyes with the space where you know his eyes are.

“Cyar’ika, my world stopped when I saw you in danger. I just want you to be safe.” He reaches for you again, except this time you take his hand and plant yourself in his lap. “I love you so much and it hurt so bad when you were gone. I am not used to holding these emotions so I just distanced myself from you. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” It's a hushed question that makes its way past your lips before you even realize it.

He chuckles and brings his helmet to press against your forehead. “I do, cyar’ika.” He takes a breath, “I do so much.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well that was an emotional rollar coaster. Thanks everyone for reading and I hope y’all liked it!

Love, Lordy. 

[sunnydaisy1]

Just a Cold

MARK SLOAN X READER

REQUEST: Could you do one for when Mark is the reader is sick, but is doing everything to not have him notice. Then ends up getting worse. Sorry hope this makes sense lol :)- Anonymous

A/N: I loved this request sooo much! I wasn’t sure whether you wanted Mark and the reader to be in a relationship or not so I kinda did it like they might be but it could also be just flirting idk? I hope I wrote it okay and that you enjoy it :)

*WHY ISNT THERE A CONCERNED MARK GIF WHERE HE ISNT CRYING URGH*

I blinked my eyes open as sun shot through the blinds into my room, glaring across the white and grey walls. I groaned and rolled over, covering my face with a pillow as i slammed the alarm clock off. A vicious cough ripped through me and I winced, my chest contracting and sharp pains running through my head. It was my own fault really, i had gotten off work a little earlier than usual and decided to go for a walk while it was still light out. My downfall really was when I had decided against bringing a coat, instead trusting the stupid jumper I was wearing to keep me warm. The weather had looked nice enough to begin with but after 20 minutes the sky had decided to chuck buckets of water down on me and I was drenched, resulting in the now painful cold I had given myself. I opened my eyes again and looked at the clock, trying to turn the minutes back to give me more sleep. When this failed, I rolled out of my fluffy, lucious cloud of a bed and walked to the bathroom, hoping a warm shower would wake me up and heal my blocked sinuses. I rubbed my eyes as I stepped into the tiled room, looking at the mirror. My reflection wasn't too bad although I could see my eyes were a little puffy and my nose was sporting a tinge of flaring red. Sighing, I turned the shower on and undressed, pulling my hair up into a bun and stepping into the relaxing steamy fumes. When I had finished getting ready and had grabbed a breakfast bar that would end up ignored in my locker, I trudged out the door, locking it behind me and starting the 10 minute walk to the hospital. I really hoped I would have time to grab some medicine before rounds but I doubted it, seeing as I had spent way too long dying in the shower. A strong breeze ripped past me and I shuddered, pulling my coat closer to me and trying to hold down the scratching cough at the back of my throat. I soon arrived at the hospital doors and gladly went inside, thankful for the shelter against the weather. I walked slowly to the residents' locker room, smiling at a few nurses as they walked past. The room was bustling with noise as I entered and a few people called out my name but I just smiled, making my way over to my locker next to Alex. He turned to face me once he saw me coming over and chuckled at my pained expression. "You look like crap." He said as I stripped off my jacket and jumper, pulling my scrubs over the long sleeved shirt I thankfully wore. "Thanks so much Karev." I hissed, now pulling off my trousers and yanking on the rougher blue scrub ones. "No worries Y/N." He grinned at me and I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to him. The locker room seemed to be getting louder by the second and I shut my eyes, trying to block out the dull pain in my head. I stayed like that for a few minutes until I felt Alex nudge me, "Come on don't want the interns slacking off." I nodded and groaned, standing up. We walked side by side until we reached the nurse's station and he went off to torment his group of suck ups. I gathered the folders with patient info and dragged myself over to my 4 interns who stared at me. "What are you waiting for?" I said harshly and they scampered, heading off to the first patient's room as I followed behind. I wasn't usually that harsh with the interns but I was strict and they behaved well, eager to learn. I tried my best to educate them but sometimes they really got on my nerves. Once we made our way into the first patient's room, the interns lined up by the door while I walked to the bed. "Goodmorning Mr Davis, how are you doing today?" I asked softly, trying to hide my running nose. "Alright, hurts a little but it's getting better." I nodded and looked over to one of my interns, "Johnson?" At once the intern started pratlling on about Mr Davis' case and I nodded along, half listening to him, half trying not to close my eyes. He stopped talking fairly quickly and I nodded, "well done, we need hourly checkups on Mr Davis' vitals for the next few days but you should be ready to go home in a few days." I directed the last part at the patient who nodded and smiled. I walked out the room and passed the interns out the patient folders. The next patient was Mrs Walker who had recently had a rhinoplasty to fix her incredibly wonky broken nose from falling off a ladder while painting her house. It had been a simple case but there were complications in the OR and she was now under careful watch. I noticed Mark standing in the corner of the room and I winced, hoping he would ignore me. I walked to the corner of the room by the door and stood a little away from the patient, listening drowsily to the interns. "Morning Y/N." A voice behind me whispered and my heart picked up pace when I recognised Mark's flirty tone. "Sloan." I said curtly, trying to disguise my illness because I know he would make a big deal out of it and really it was nothing. "Ouch, what's got your panties in a twist today?" Mark teased, easily letting the dirty words roll off his tongue. "Nothing." I retorted, not daring to look Mark in the eye. I could feel the warmth of his body behind me and I wanted so desperately to reach out and let his comforting hold engulf me but I couldn't, not wanting him to make a big deal. "If you say so missy." He replied, whispering close to my ear. Despite my cold, I could feel heat rush through my body at Mark's seductive words. Normally I could retort with a witty remark but today the only thing my brain could focus on was the increasing ache in my bones. "Mark if you have finished flirting with Dr L/N, we have other patients to attend to." Derek called out, and I blushed, not even realising he had come into the room. "See you later L/N." Mark said as he left the room, leaving me wanting his heat back. The rest of rounds passed by incredibly slow and I now sat in the locker room again, trying to catch up on forms and paperwork that needed filling out. I had turned most of the lights off so the room was darker and was nursing a warm coffee in my hands. The soothing silence was helping to ease the growing ache in my head but the incessant coughing wasn't letting up. Suddenly, my pager started beeping and I groaned, putting my hot drink down and speed walking to Bailey. I was almost in the patient's room when I spotted Mark coming out of another room a few doors down and I quickly leaped into a supply closet before he could see me. I really loved Mark but he didn't need to see me when I was all runny nosed and coughing like a diseased hag. I waited 20 seconds, counting in my head before opening the door again and checking the coast was clear. It was so I walked out and over to Bailey's patient's room where she stood, talking to him about his upcoming surgery. She shot me daggers when I entered the room and I mouthed a sorry before explaining to Mr Morrison the risks. At lunchtime, I had just finished with a code blue, hoping to head to a dark, quiet space away from distractions. I was just stepping around a corner when I bumped into a solid chest, immediately apologising before looking up to see who it was. "Oh, Mark." I said, scanning the area to look for a way out and avoiding his gorgeous eyes. "Sorry about that Y/N, seems I have a knack for bumping into pretty women going for their lunch." I nodded absent-mindedly, trying to get away. "Right yeah urm I need to go." I said, going to walk past Mark but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Woah woah woah what's the matter?" He asked, instantly concerned at my dismissal of his flirting. "Nothing." I said and he shook his head, bending his head down to meet my averting gaze. "You said that earlier." Mark continued, both hands now on my arms as he kept me still. "mm." I hummed, staring at the wall behind Mark. "You sure you're okay, you look a bit like your going to throw up." He said, concern lacing his voice. "No Im fine." I said, smiling weakly before scooting off down the halls leaving a worried plastic surgeon behind. For the rest of the afternoon, I sat on the bottom floor filling out charts. My headache and coughs had been getting progressively worse to the point where I could barely move due to my body aching so much. Luckily I wasn't in any surgeries today and Bailey hadn't been so much on my heels today although Mark had paged me a few times to the Attending room which I ignored. He had spotted me earlier after Mer had wanted me in the research room but I had run down the halls back here before he could catch me. I knew it was only a matter of time before he sought me out. I was almost done filling out the last chart when the door swung open and a familiar head of peppered hair came through the doors. I cringed inwardly and tried to make myslef as small as possible in the gap between the two hospital beds. I waited, trying to control my laboured breathing as he walked nearer, calling out my name. I closed my eyes shut as he closed in on my position. "Y/N?" Mark asked as he spotted my feet poking out from between the two beds. I winced at his voice and he ducked down, crouching in front of me and placing a hand on each of my bent knees. "Y/N?" He asked again and I opened my eyes. He sucked in a breath and immediately tried to bring me closer to him but I groaned. "No please Mark it hurts." I whispered, my voice just a croak. "Jesus Y/N you look like a ghost." Mark said, his face serious and eyes kind. I tried to smile but I couldn't manage, my head flaring up with every movement. Mark gathered the charts I had lying around me and placed them on the nearby bed before squatting back down. "Hey let's get you out of here." He softly said, but I shook my head, sniffling and wincing at the ache. "Come on, I'll help you." He continued, placing a hand on my warm cheek. I looked into his eyes and gave in, nodding slightly. Mark wrapped an arm around my waist and put another on my hip as he helped lift me up, careful to not be to rough. "That's it." He softly spoke, my hands resting on his upper arms for support. As soon as I was standing he brought me into his chest, resting his head on top of mine and stroking my back softly. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent, relaxing into the warmth. I felt Mark's hand smooth my hair and kiss the top of my head before he whispered, "Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" He stepped back slightly but still held me close, looking into my eyes. "I didn't want to bother you, it's not that bad." I replied, slightly shaky. "Y/N..." Mark said, brushing my hair behind my ear and cupping my face. "What bother's me is not knowing your ill and not being able to help." He said, bringing me back into his arms. "Im sorry." I said, nuzzling into his neck. "It's okay, let's get you into bed." Mark replied, kissing my forehead. Mark had ended up persuading me to go to his house, and I was currently stood in his bathroom, a towel wrapped around me. The steam from the hot shower had freed up my nose a little but the throbbing in my head hadn't let up yet. I walked into Mark's bedroom, rubbing my eyes. "Hey." Mark smirked, making me open my eyes to see his stupid self standing there with a cheeky grin as his eyes ran up and down my body. "My eyes are up here." I said quietly, making him chuckle and a small smile come across my face. "You know I think my towel on you is my new favourite look of yours." Mark said as he watched me walk across the carpeted floor to him. I narrowed my eyes at him and sniffled, holding onto the white fluffy towel that just surpassed my bum tightly. "If I wasn't so ill right now Sloan, I'd punch that pretty little grin off of your face." I hissed, taking the sweatpants and tshirt out of his hands. "Oh so you think I'm pretty then?" Mark teased, eyes still wandering. "Piss off." I said, watching Mark as he smirked wider and I headed into the bathroom again, closing the door. When I had managed to pull the black tshirt on, I looked at the sweatpants and groaned, resenting having to struggle into another item of huge clothing. It was worse than putting leggings on after swimming. I had panties on and Mark's tshirt came down to my mid thigh so I unlocked the door, hoping Mark had a pair of shorts I could wear. As soon as I stepped out, Mark sat up on the bed, eyes raking my body yet again. "Jeez Y/N you think you were trying to kill a man." He said as I walked towards him, cradeling the sweatpants. I was exhausted and couldn't think of any remark so just stuck my hands out, extending the sweatpants to Mark. "I'm too tired to put them on." I said quietly before a violent cough coursed through my body. "Okay come here." Mark said and sat me down on the bed, taking the sweatpants. I expected him to walk off to get some shorts but he crouched down in front of me and lifted my ankle into the cuff of the sweatpants. I blushed and muttered, "thanks." Mark just grinned and winked cheekily, making my face flush even more. He brought the sweatpants to my knees before asking me to stand up which I did. He went to take them up further and started lifting the tshirt before I grabbed his hands. "I think I can do the rest." I said softly, rolling my eyes at Mark's constant dirty flirting. "Worth a try." He remarked, brushing the hair out my face. Once I had gotten the sweatpants on and had gulped down 2 glasses of water and some medicine, I walked back from the hallway to Mark's room, seeing him lying in the bed with his pyjamas on. I yawned and smiled sleepily. "Gonna come join me missy?" He asked, flicking the duvet off to reveal his tartan clad legs and comfy bed. I nodded, dragging myself to the other side of the bed and climbing in before resting next to Mark. He chuckled and lifted me slightly, laying my head down on his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist while he hugged mine. I sighed contently and snuggled into his warming body, letting waves of sleepiness wash over me, lulling me to sleep. Mark turned the bedside light off and kissed the top of my head, whispering, "Night love." I smiled and closed my eyes, drifting off. 

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Ben’s POV

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: 14 scenes told from Ben's Perspective.

Warnings: A whole lotta angst and badly handled feelings. swearing, drinking, a little bit of smut/masturbation (18+) basically everything from the other chapters but from Ben’s side lmao

Words: 22 790 (oh god im sorry, but all the sections are separated so you don’t have to read it in one hit!)

A/N: I know it's like super duper late but here is the final chapter of this series that I promised! Basically just a collection of blurbs (maybe a few oneshot length parts too) that tell the story from the other side. Some are his point of view of things that occurred in the main chapters, some fill in gaps that reader wasn't around for. 

I had a lot of fun writing from a perspective I don't normally write from! It was a bit of a challenge at times but definitely something I'd like to do again.

Taglist: @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

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

“Pick up Joe, pick up,” Ben mumbled to himself, pacing around his trailer. The phone rang out and he let out a grunt of annoyance as he switched to text message.

I fucked up. Call me.

It was an anxious ten-minute wait in which Ben found it hard to sit still or focus on anything other than what a colossal mistake he’d made. He tried to go over his lines instead, tried to focus on the next scene you’d be filming together but all he could think about was you. You and how badly he’d fucked up. Finally Joe put him out of his misery. “Thank Christ,” “Sorry I was asleep,” a yawning Joe said from the other end of the line, “What happened that you needed to contact me at 6am?” “I said yes,” “To?” “Joe, I know it’s early for you but please try to keep up. I said yes.” There was a pause as Joe tried to work out what Ben meant and then realisation dawned, “Nooooo,” “Yes. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Oh my god,” Joe groaned, sympathetic, “You said yes? To the fake dating schtick?” “I wasn’t going to,” “I should fucking hope not. After everything we talked about yesterday? After we agreed it was a horrible idea?” “I know! I know,” Ben had to pause to gulp in a breath, his chest suddenly feeling too tight to handle the oxygen, “I was going to say no. I came in with a plan to say no and it was on the tip of my tongue for the entire meeting. They were going through these pages explaining it all and all of the rules we’d have to follow and I was ready to say no, I was going to say no,” “So what happened?” Ben flopped down onto his couch, the one he liked to nap on when time allowed, running his hand through his hair as he spoke, “I looked over at her and my mind clouded over and I said yes,” “Did she ask you to?” “Nope. I think she knew what I was thinking through the whole thing, she seemed shocked when I agreed to it. Fuck, why did I say yes?” “Cause you’re a fucking idiot.” “You can say that again,” “I could but I won’t.” Joe exhaled slowly into the receiver, “Jesus man,” “Yup. You wanna know the worst part though?” “Agreeing to it wasn’t the worst part?” “I’m not totally disappointed,” “Ben,” Joe sounded mildly horrified so Ben hurried to explain. “I mean, I know it’s bad. I know there were a thousand ways to better handle it...sticking to the plan and asking her out after we wrapped being the least of them. But...I have date ideas picked out already. There’s this wine and art place she’d love and the ice-skating rink and I’d love to take her to that Chinese restaurant near me. And I’m kind of happy I have an excuse to look at her now, touch her. I don’t have to worry about if she’s caught me staring or if I’m doing a bad job of hiding my feelings because everyone’s going to think we’re dating anyway so what’s the fucking harm,” “Alright Ben, I’m gonna stop you there. You need to get this shit under control. I suggest going to a bar, getting drunk, and getting into the pants of the first girl who talks to you.” “Can’t,” “Oh don’t give me that bullshit. You’re not so hung up on this Y/N chick that you can’t think about sleeping with someone else, are you?” “Doesn’t matter, I literally can’t unless I want everyone to think I’m cheating on her. Don’t think that’d go down well with the studio or anyone else really. They’d crucify me for fucking up the plan after less than a day.” “Would you have followed my advice even if that wasn’t the case?” Ben mad a non-committal noise, “Probably not. I just want her,” “Doesn’t she have a boyfriend? I distinctly remember you whining about a boyfriend.” “Apparently it was never that serious. He was boring.” “You’re boring too Ben. Hate to break it to you but you’re dull, unexciting, tedious. She’s not going to want to date you either. Might as well give up now,” “Have you got a thesaurus sitting in your lap?” Joe laughed despite himself, “I thought this was going to be a crush Ben. Short lived.” “Me too. It’s not though. I can’t get her out of my mind. When I’m with her I don’t want to leave and then when I have to leave all I can think about is when I’ll next see her. She’s so wonderful and beautiful and kind-hearted. She likes pulling faces at me from behind the camera and she’s got the cutest laugh…When she’s nervous about a scene she bounces her leg. Every time. And she’s so sweet to everyone on set, always chatting with whoever is around and making jokes and stuff. I want to make her laugh. I want to calm her when she’s nervous. I want her.” “Maybe you should just tell her how you feel now. I know you wanted to wait until after the movie but I think that horse has bolted,” “I can’t tell her now, are you insane? If I tell her now she’ll call up her agent and cancel the whole fake dating thing and she’ll never want to see me again,” “Maybe she wants to date you too,” “Nope. She literally said to me she wouldn’t date me in real life,” Ben paused, thinking, “d’you reckon there’s a chance she might fall for me too? Like, with the whole pretending to date thing? Maybe I could convince her I’d be a good boyfriend,” “Don’t get your hopes up Ben,” “You’re right. She’s not going to change her mind about me. We’re friends and that’s it. And I’ve just gotta focus on finishing this movie and getting through the whole relationship without her figuring anything out.” “I don’t envy you, buddy.”

                                                       ***

It took Ben a few moments of lying in the dark to remember why he felt so nervous first thing in the morning. But the waiting message from Peter about what time the photographer would arrive was enough to remind him. He lay there a little longer, trying to prepare himself for everything, trying to convince himself that seeing you first thing in the morning would be enough of a turn off to stop him from feeling the way you made him feel. It didn’t work, the convincing or the seeing you. If anything, seeing you yawning as you left his spare room just made it all the worse. You, in his pyjamas. It made his stomach flip. He found it hard to pull his eyes from you as you drank your coffee, found it hard to not enjoy the sight of you in his pyjamas in his kitchen. You’d never been there before but you didn’t feel out of place. He could imagine other mornings, making pancakes together, you with a spot of batter on your nose that he’d wipe away and replace with a kiss, or else making you the first tea or coffee of the day and bringing it to you in bed, snuggling under the covers with you, your head resting on his chest as you talked quietly about whatever was happening that day. But planning out how you’d look for the camera was a sharp reminder that it wasn’t real, that you were only there because of work.

“And, um, he was very careful in how he worded it, but they want us to look like we fucked. Also I told them I’d take you home so there may be someone waiting for us there too, he never got back to me on it.” “Shit, okay. Umm, guess I’ll just wear this then?” he watched as you indicated the pyjamas you’d borrowed, his pyjamas, “might lose the pants though, help sell it a bit more.” “Yeah, guess so,” Ben had to clear his throat and avert his eyes, terrified that you’d be able to see what he was thinking, willing himself to stop thinking about helping you out of them. “What time is it?” He glanced at the oven, thankful to have even the smallest of diversions, “Twenty past eight,” “God I haven’t been up this early on a weekend in months.” “Not one for farmers markets or anything then?” This was a better topic. Boring, safe. “Not really. Much prefer lying in bed doing nothing.” Shit, “Me too,” he laughed, trying not to imagine you in his bed in just his shirt (fuck the pants they were too big for you anyway). “We’re meant for each other,” Ben took another sip of coffee to keep from groaning. You had no idea what you were doing to him and he wasn’t going to be the one to tell you. Not now at any rate. He’d killed any chance of anything happening when he’d agreed to this stunt and now he had to suck it up and deal with it. “Did you want to have a shower or anything?” “Nah, you can if you want though,” “Might as well wait until I get home. But I am gonna clean my teeth, especially if we have to kiss.” Jesus, the kiss, he’d almost forgotten about that, “Maybe mess up your hair too, make it look like you didn’t sleep much.” This is dangerous territory. “Well how could I when you’re such a good lover,” Oh god oh god oh god, “I know you’re joking but if anyone asks, I’m incredible. You came like three times,” “Did I now?” “Of course,” “Good thing no one’s gonna ask then, don’t think I’m great at lying,” Ben wanted to stop, wanted to switch back to talking about farmers markets and breakfast options but he didn’t seem to have control over himself anymore, “Besides, it’s not really a lie, I am that good. You just haven’t experienced it personally.” You poked your tongue out at him as you turned back towards the bathroom. As soon as he heard the door shut Ben collapsed forward against the kitchen counter, leaning on his palms as he grappled with what had just happened. He’d need to keep his wits about him from now on. Flirting like that couldn’t happen again, he’d been lucky that you'd treated it like friendly banter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the voice that suggested you’re lack of awareness was proof of how disinterested you were. It was only when he heard the bathroom door swing open again that he forced himself to move.

“How do I look?” you asked as you re-entered the room. Can’t avoid looking at her now, she wants your opinion, “Gorgeous.” It was true. Everything you’d done to make yourself look like you’d had a late night just made you even more desirable. The messed up hair, the smudge of makeup around your eyes. He gulped when he noticed the undone buttons of the flannel shirt, just enough to tease, and the missing pants. Tell her you want to pin her to the wall and undo the rest of those buttons. Tell her you want to wake up to that sight every morning. “But do I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked?” “Oh, right, ummm,” he gave you another cursory look, trying not to linger on any part of you for too long, “yes, I think so,” “I feel like there’s something missing,” suddenly you turned on your heel and stepped back towards the bathroom. Ben waited where you’d left him until, “Oh! I know. Might be taking it a bit far though.” Clearly he was supposed to be part of this conversation, so he followed you to the doorway, stepped just over the threshold, “What is it?” You were scrutinising your appearance in the mirror and he let himself watch your reflection, “what if you gave me a hickey?” Ben’s breath caught in his throat though he managed to stutter out your name. “Yeah, I know, that’s a weird thing to ask. Don’t worry, I think we’ll be fine without it,” He inhaled deeply wondering if your backtracking was a sign that you’d worked out what was going on in his head. He couldn’t let that happen. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to give you a love bite, though he’d prefer to be covering you in them. Slowly, he let the breath go again, “no, you’re right. A hickey will definitely make it look more authentic,”

“It’s not totally inappropriate for me to ask?” Babe this whole thing is inappropriate, “No, no, we have to make it look legit. Here, I’ll uhhh,” With another, less than steady, breath, he stepped behind you, close enough that you were practically leaning against him. His heart began to beat faster, his stomach did summersaults. Carefully he wrapped his arm around your waist to steady himself, pull you closer, as he pushed your hair to the side. He glanced at your reflection, waiting for you to stop him, to notice his shaky fingers and burning skin and to jump away from him. But you didn’t. You let him lean in, let him press his lips to your neck, let him mark you. He felt your own breath speed up, felt you tilt your head, inviting more. And then. It was only a small hum, but it had definitely come from you. He glanced at the mirror again, saw you had your eyes shut. You liked it. He was giving you a hickey and you were enjoying it. This might be his only chance to do that, to make you feel that way. He refocused on your neck, where his lips met your skin, soothing the fresh brand with his tongue. He could happily have given you ten more, was tempted to go in for a second at least. Instead he let you go, stepped backwards as quickly as he could manage. If he waited too long he’d end up saying something he’d regret. “Will that do?” “It’s great Ben really ties the whole look together,” He tried to match your smile though it felt like there was a warning siren going off in his head, “Good. Good. Okay then, I’ll umm, what time is it?” “Just after nine. Wonder if the photographer is here yet,” “I think I will jump in for that shower actually, by the time I’m done he will definitely be here,” he needed some time to compose himself before he even thought about stepping outside the door with you, “Make yourself comfortable though, watch some TV or something.” “Alright. Thanks for being so cool about all this. I know you’re a little sceptical about the benefits and everything.” “It’s fine Y/N, no need for any of that,” he forced another smile as you left but the moment you’d pulled the door shut it slipped again. Slowly he made his way to the tap, splashed his face with cold water. His fingers still tingled where they’d rested against you. The echo of your hum was stuck in his head. Your perfume still lingered in the air. “Fuck,” Ben directed the curse at his reflection, unsure any other word could sum up better than that. The fact that you didn’t want him was fucked, having you here looking the part of the perfect girlfriend was fucked, giving you a hickey for the performance was fucked. And the fact that he was sporting a semi from it was really just the cherry on top of his totally fucked sundae. He couldn’t go back out to you in such a state, especially not when you were going to have to make out for the camera. A shower to relieve himself was the only answer, though he felt bad about you being only a couple of rooms over.

With a final prayer that you wouldn’t overhear or work out why he’d changed his mind about the shower, he turned the taps on and began undressing, wincing a little as he stuck his arm under the scalding hot water. With some adjustment he was able to fully step into the shower, pausing for a moment to relax under the steady beat of the water before reaching for the soap. Of course, you were on his mind as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly started stroking himself. The way you looked in his shirt, the swell of your breasts just barely exposed, tantalisingly so. The hem of the shirt draped over your bare thighs. You’d make such a sight dressed like that, lying in his bed, the sheets tangled around your legs. Better still his legs tangled between yours. He thought of the hum you made as he’d sucked at your throat. On the verge of a whine, maybe even a moan. Would you whine if his lips were on your chest instead? What about your thighs, leaving a trail up to… His breathing was faster now, hand moving at a similar speed. We’re made for each other. Your voice, your words. You’d say it, half pant it, while he was inside you. Made for each other. And you’d hum that hum of pleasure. Your thighs, under his shirt. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he pulled your hair aside. What if you gave me a hickey?  The warmth of your body leaning against his, such a contrast to the cool bathroom tiles. That hum. Those thighs. The way you say his name. Made for each other. Your lingering perfume. Your lingering warmth. Your lingering hum. His name on your tongue. He bit his lip to keep from making any sound as he came onto the floor of the shower. It took Ben a few moments to right his breathing, eyes pressed shut so he could hold onto the fantasy for just a little longer. But he knew he didn’t have the time. At least you get to kiss her again. He rushed through washing his hair, scrubbing himself clean. As he stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and swiped his palm over the fogged-up mirror. He forced himself to smile, tried to make it seem natural but that just made it feel more fake. Maybe you wouldn’t notice. With a final exhale he left the bathroom, heading towards his bedroom to find some clean clothes. Your laugh cut through the mostly quiet house. Something on the tv, a cartoon by the sounds of it, had made you laugh and Ben couldn’t help but smile for real at the sound. It made it all seem worth it. 

                                                      ***

It had been a bit of an odd week. Everyone at work knew about the relationship and Ben had found himself set upon by well meaning set dressers and ADs who were curious to know when it had started and how they’d kept it such a secret because “seriously Ben, no one suspected anything.” That was nothing to his friends though, who were shocked he’d never brought it up even in passing and who demanded to know when they could meet this secret girlfriend of his. “Someone’s gotta tell her about the time you pissed your pants at the fair,” “I was seven and had drunk a lot of coke,” “Excuses, excuses. What’s your excuse for never mentioning her before?” “I thought we were going to play FIFA, not talk about my love life,” “We were but that was before we all saw your girlfriend’s arse online,” “You can’t see her arse in that shot,” “Near enough. And we can definitely see the giant fucking hickey on her neck. Now explain yourself,” “Alright mum,” Ben shook his head, “I mean, you know I don’t normally date people I work with. Neither does she. We both wanted to give our selves some time to see if it worked, to make sure what we thought we were feeling was legit and not on screen emotions carrying over or anything like that.” “Well it looks legit judging by photos,” “Shut up,” Ben sighed, rolling his eyes, “I actually really like her,” “Hey, I have a question. When the fuck have you been seeing this chick? Because your down time is spent with us.” “Oh, umm, y’know, after work and stuff. I don’t spend all of my time with you guys,” “Uhhh beg to disagree,” Ben tried to keep his tone normal though his heart was racing. If they figured it out now it could all be over, “Fuck off I have a life outside of you. And just because I was hanging with you guys in the evening doesn’t mean I didn’t see her earlier in the day.” “Nooners?” “Lunch dates.” “Uh huh. Okay, lunch dates. She’s a good shag though, right?” “Oh yeah, fucking….great shag,” “You gotta give us more than that mate,” “Sure, okay, but first can one of you kill me,” “Boooooo,” Ben laughed as he was pelted with crisps, “I’m so going to kick all your arses, now hand me a controller.”

The week had also brought him a copy of your rules. He’d taped the sheet to the bottom of his sock draw where no one else was likely to see it but he could still have a daily reminder that none of it was real. Being around you made it easy to forget you weren’t actually his girlfriend, the lines between friendly banter and flirty teasing becoming too blurred. Of course, he also had Joe reminding him to keep his head straight. He’d called after he saw the morning-after photos. The conversation had started with Joe calling Ben a moron but quickly shifted into Ben ranting for close to an hour because he’d, that morning, heard all about the conversation with Felicity and how you’d spent so long talking up his prowess. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream. “Is this some kind of punishment? Did I do something completely fucked up in a past life and now I’m paying for it?” “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a lesson on why you don’t agree to something because a pretty girl smiles at you.” “Oh bugger off, you’re absolutely no help,” “Well what do you want me to do?” “I don’t know.” “I could talk to her for you.” “Mate, that’s you’re worst idea yet.” “When’s the date?” “This Saturday.” “Just keep reminding yourself you’re there as friends. Don’t get sucked in by the act.” “I’m trying.” Easier said than done, especially when he’d had the date planned for a solid few months. Not officially of course, but in the back of his head. You and him and a bottle of wine as you sat close together and painted. When he imagined the date you wore a sun dress and decorated your canvas or plate, or whatever it was he pictured that time, with little hearts and lipstick kisses. He’d make you laugh with some kind of joke and you’d lean your forehead on his shoulder. Everyone else would melt away as you looked up at him, still smiling. And you’d say something about how you should have realised you loved him sooner. “Because I do, Ben, I love you,” Which is when he’d kiss you, softly.

Ben shook his head to clear it, focusing back on the script in his hand, though you’d soon distracted him again. The real you, not the fantasy date one. The one who was bouncing her knee and staring off into space. He gently touched your shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” “Huh?” “You’re jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?” “Oh, nothing,” He didn’t believe you, “Is it about our date tonight?” “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?” What a blessing that would be. I might actually be able to get over you. I could stop imaging you in my bed, “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” “What?” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that last bit out loud, “I’ve been worried about it too.” You nodded, your leg twitching as if gearing up to bounce again. “But I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?” “Yeah I was, but-” “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake,” Ben didn’t necessarily believe it himself, or at least not for himself. He was going to struggle. But you didn’t have any underlying feelings to fight. For you it really was just a good time painting, “they’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple,” “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” “It’s okay,” before he could stop himself he’d reached for your hand, rubbing the back of it. He wanted to do more, to hold you tight and tell you it would be okay. But that would be too much. Instead he rubbed your hand and tried to distract you, “I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.” “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?” “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?” “Theres like six, Ben,” “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,” You laughed. It was the best sound in the world and he was determined to make sure he heard it again on your date.

It took Ben an hour to decide on an outfit. He’d had one set aside but looking at it in the mirror it felt too dressy, he needed something more casual. He paused for a calming smoke and then had to brush his teeth again. On set he chewed gum after a smoke, especially if there were kissing scenes, out of politeness more than anything. But the small part of him that hoped you were treating the date as an audition for the roll of real-life boyfriend worried that it would hurt his chances if he tasted like cigarettes. Assuming you’d kiss. So he brushed his teeth again and changed into an outfit he didn’t hate and then worried that he was overthinking it and should have gone with his first outfit, and needed another smoke. Which meant he had to brush his teeth a third time. It took all his willpower to not ask the uber to pull over so he could have another quick puff. But then he was at your place and you were there and he wasn’t panicking anymore. Maybe it was because you looked jittery and nervous and something in his brain overrode his own anxiety to ease yours, or maybe you just had that effect on him. Whatever the reason it meant he could focus on helping you relax. “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” He was nearly positive you hadn’t eaten yet, too anxious. “Uhh, s’pose so,” “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?” “I swear I’m not normally.” “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” Ben inwardly groaned. When the fuck did snookum become a thing? Why won’t you stop me Y/N? Please god stop me from flirting with you!  It was a relief when he made it to the McDonalds without any more slip ups and he could focus on his food and encouraging you to eat yours. He felt things were going well as you walked hand in hand through the bottle shop. He’d squeeze your hand if he felt you tensing up, make you laugh again, distract you. But then you had nudged him and pointed out the photographer. “Relax, he’s not important,” he said softly, pulling you into his side, trying to keep his own breathing even. Your face had paled at the sight of the camera, and Ben was hit by an overwhelming urge to protect you. He kept you as close as he could, soothed you as best he could. It became easier once you’d reached the shop and could get lost among the other couples and groups of friends, though he caught you checking for the photographer through the glass of the shop front. Ben hesitated for half a second before he turned your head towards him, “Forget the photographer Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We’re just two friends having a fun night out, okay?” This wasn’t the carefree date he’d been fantasising about for months. But he held out hope it still could be. If only he could make you see it. He opened the wine, talked about the art options, anything to distract you from the world outside of the shop. You took a little to warm up but he was glad to see you looking around the room as he went to collect your blank ceramics, taking everything in, and soon enough you were both contemplating designs for mugs, the photographer and the reason for the date seemingly forgotten.

Ben’s hope grew with each passing minute. The longer you were there, the more at ease you became. He got to hear your laugh again, frequently. And the conversation flowed naturally as each of you concentrated on your artwork. The design came to him quickly and he went slow, trying to make his lines as straight as possible and trying to make the engagement ring look like the one you’d spent so much of the shoot wearing. We’re really good at this dating thing. Part encouragement to help when you got nervous, part wishful thinking perhaps. But it was a quote from the movie so you wouldn’t read too far into it. He couldn’t wait to see your reaction to the mug and, as soon as he was done, announced it. “Alright, show me then,” Ben watched closely as you examined the still wet design, chewing on his lip as he tried not to care if you cared that the lines weren’t totally straight or the colours didn’t work. But as soon as you realised what the quote was you smiled. He found himself grinning as you told him how much you loved it. “Thought it was kind of fitting. Plus, it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.” “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had,” Ben turned the mug back towards himself, double checking for any flaws. He wanted it to be perfect for you, “Best proposal I’ve ever given.” He was on the verge of adding, “My real one will be better though,” but stopped himself short. That would lead to a topic of conversation he didn’t want to deal with. Not with you. Not now. He was a little surprised as you leaned in close and lowered your voice. “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?” “Promise,” he said leaning closer as well. From the outside you must look like a proper couple, whispering sweet nothings as you ignored the rest of the room. His eyes darted to your lips. Kiss her. He could, couldn’t he? He could get away with it. That was what you were there for, to be a couple, to have photos taken of intimate moments. No one would question it if he just closed the gap, not even you. But he hesitated too long, the shriek of laughter from another table interrupting the moment. He leaned back in his seat, trying to put some distance between you before he lost his head again, “So do I get to see mine?”

Ben was nearly speechless when you did eventually let him see it. The guitar with the lyrics beside it. He couldn’t have stopped from smiling even if he’d wanted to. “And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?” “It is? It’s just the song I overheard you playing that one time.” That one time. A few weeks previous. Between scenes, as he’d waited for the cameras to be organised around the new set. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear him, least of all you. But he’d been starting to feel tense and wanted to unwind before filming resumed so he’d gone back to his trailer and taken out his guitar. It was a song he’d always liked but he’d been listening to it more often since meeting you and it was the song his fingers had begun to play without him realising. Now here it was, on the mug you’d painted for him. And you had no idea that when he sang about the stun gun lullaby, he was singing about your laugh, or that you so completely had his attention that no other woman could compare. The song might have been written for someone else but whenever he heard it, it was you being sung about. Was that a sign to not give up hope? His heart ached with how much he wished you loved him the same. Fuck, love? He’d never let himself think the L word before, that was serious shit. But it fit. He was hopelessly in love with you and there didn’t seem like there was much he could do to change the situation.

                                                      ***

Ben looked up from his laptop to see you, brows furrowed, digging through your bag. “Something wrong?” he asked as you pulled your lips between your teeth, worrying at it absentmindedly, in what he had to admit was an adorable fashion. “Uhh, I think I need to go home,” “How come? If you forgot something I have a replacement here. What was it sunnies? Chapstick? A book?” “No, it’s not that sort of-” “Then what? You already have a toothbrush and PJs here,” “No it’s something else... I just think I’d be more comfortable at home today,” Ben tried to keep his voice steady but his mind was whirring with the possible reasons for your sudden wish to leave. Did you know about his secret? “Well a-are you sure I can’t help. We’re meant to be seen together this afternoon and if we leave now they won’t be able to get a shot of us smooching,” You chuckled at his word choice and he found it hard to repress his smile. “I’ll apologise to Mary and Peter, tell them something came up and see if we can reschedule,” “Are you positive there isn’t anything I can do?” You shook your head slightly, “if you really must know my period is a little early and I don’t have any tampons on me. Happy?” “Oh,” he began to laugh at your slight embarrassment, more relieved than embarrassed himself, “is that all?  Y/N, you’re not the first girlfriend I’ve had, fake or not. I’m a 29 year old man I can deal with talking about periods, and I can certainly run to the shop for you,” “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that. I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today,” ““Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” You didn’t look convinced, eyeing the doorway to the hall. “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.” You hesitated a moment longer, “oh alright, as long as you don’t mind,”

It took Ben two minutes to collect his shoes and wallet and car keys and then he was out the door, assuring you he’d be as quick as possible. On his way out he saw the photographer, getting into position by his front gate. He shot Ben a questioning look at the detour from the set plan as Ben hopped into his car. As he reversed out of the driveway he caught the photographer’s attention. “Making a run to the shop to pick up something for Y/N. Might be a good photo in it,” Ben felt odd talking to the man – a man who he recognised well enough, who had witnessed every intimate moment he’d shared with you (and who had been the catalyst for a number of them), but a man he knew next to nothing about. But he hoped that by leading the photographer away he was ensuring you’d have a peaceful respite from the constant intrusion of knowing you were being watched. The photographer nodded, replaced the lens on his camera and headed to his own car, following Ben to the closest supermarket. The distraction of communicating with the photographer was almost enough to make Ben stop kicking himself for not being more prepared for this eventuality. It was only once he was at the store, standing in front of a shelf of feminine hygiene products that he was truly side-tracked from his lack of foresight, and realised he had no idea what you wanted. You picked up your mobile on the third ring. “Hey, it’s Ben, what do you want?” “Don’t tell me you forgot already,” “No, I mean, what sort. There’s hundreds of boxes to choose from, I have no idea which brand you like or what, um…strength you need.” “Oh,” you laughed and described what your go to brand’s packaging looked like. He scoured the shelves, trying to block out the snap of a phone camera as the photographer got his shot. “Ah, got it,” he said as he finally located the right one, pulling down a box for you now and one to keep in his bathroom for future use, “see you in a few.” “Thanks Ben,” “It’s nothing,” he refrained from closing the call with a love you, instead just saying, “Part of the boyfriend package.” On his way back towards the register he detoured into the tea and coffee isle, picking out a box of herbal tea bags that said For Women on the box, hoping they’d sooth whatever cramps you were dealing with, and then grabbed a box of chocolates in case you wanted something sweet to snack on. The photographer was outside already, waiting to get a shot of him leaving with a full bag. 

It made Ben’s heart swell to see how grateful you were for his haul. He went to the kitchen to make you a tea and himself a coffee as you ducked into the bathroom. “Did you find the Panadol?” he asked, rattling the box of painkillers as you joined him in the lounge. “Yeah, thanks. I took two but I might need more in a few hours, if I’m still here. I’ll buy you a new box if I use too many,” “Don’t be daft. How are you feeling?” “Yeah fine. A few cramps but it’s nothing.” “Do you want a cuddle?” he asked without thinking. “What?” Ben shrugged, “I don’t know, my ex said that cuddling up with me made her feel better. But that’s a different- she probably said it so she had an excuse to make out a bit,” You laughed, “a cuddle would actually be very welcome right now,” “Oh, well in that case,” Ben shuffled over, patting the space beside him, and tried to remember that you weren’t really dating. But he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you tight against him and breathing deeply.

                                                      ***

Ben wasn’t drunk. Not properly so anyway. He was too much of a chatty drunk to trust himself when he was sloshed. He’d had enough to loosen up and to dull the ache he felt whenever he looked at you. And to leave his keys at the bar. Nothing a glass of water and some TV couldn’t fix. He’d lost himself in the show when his phone dinged, nearly jumping at the unexpected noise. It was a text from Joe.

WTF?

It took Ben a few seconds to work out what it referred to but then the afternoon came back to him, the last scene you’d filmed, the photo he’d posted. Shit. “Ah, shit. Forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep?” he cast around for a reasonable excuse, “We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.” “Sure,” you said, already pressing buttons on the remote. “I promise I won’t be long,” “Take your time, it’s fine.” Ben smiled though it slipped as he left the room and pulled up Joe’s number. He shut the door of the room he used when he stayed over, already sure this would not be a conversation he’d want you to overhear. “What the fuck is that photo Ben?” “It’s nothing,” he sighed, “just the last day of filming,” “Are you alright, you sound weird?” “We went out for a drink.” “You and Y/N?” “And the rest of the cast and crew. And, before you say anything, no I didn’t get so drunk I blabbed about anything. I do have some self control,” “I wasn’t saying anything,” “No but you were thinking it. Anyway, I think I’m allowed to have a few drinks under the circumstances. Not exactly easy being secretly in love with your co-star who you’re also fakely dating,” “Alright, alright, point made. But that doesn’t explain the photo,” “Like I said, last day of filming,” Joe waited for more and begrudgingly Ben continued. “It was our last scene together and I wanted to commemorate it,” “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.” “Y/N said it was a bit cheesy,” “Uhh yeah, little bit,” Joe laughed, “you’re not worried it was a bad idea?” “No. We got told to post stuff, which you already know since Y/Ns posted tonnes and you’ve commented on nearly all of them. Figured I should pull my weight,” “Someone has to keep an eye on you two. Stop you from doing something stupid.” “That’s what you’re doing is it?” “You sure you didn’t post the photo with that caption because you’re dying to tell her how you feel and this is a safe way to do so?” Ben scuffed his foot along the carpet, digging his toes into the rough material and feeling like a school boy being admonished by a teacher, “So what if it is?” “All I’m saying is be careful. You’re keeping two very large secrets and–” “Yeah Joe, I fucking know but I don’t have much of a choice here,” “That’s what I’m saying…look, I know you’re a bit of a romantic at heart but you’re also not the sort to get this hung up on unavailable skirt so I believe you when you say you love her. But don’t let it slip out because that’ll just make things worse.” “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess,” “Neither do I. Frankly I don’t think you were thinking. At least, not about yourself.” “Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it?” “Alright. This is going to sound harsh, but it’s coming from a place of friendship. Just stop.” “What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.” “That’s not what I meant. I understand you can’t get out of the fake relationship stuff. But, maybe you can get out of the other side of things. Just tell her. Intentionally, tell her. I know it’s not what you want to hear and I know you’re going to argue with me and say you can’t but why not? If you tell her and she admits she likes you then great, you can be together for real. Or, if you tell her and she says she doesn’t feel the same then she can’t get out either and you can be miserable together and she’ll at least stop hanging around you so much when you don’t have to be seen together and you can get over her.” Ben shook his head, “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel,” “I just think this whole situation…sucks for you. A mirthless laugh rose in Ben’s throat, “of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening,” “Are you sure she doesn’t feel something, even if she’s not saying it?” “No I know it’s completely one sided.” “Is there any chance she already knows? You’re not the most subtle guy in the world Ben, maybe she figured it out before you were approached about the fake out,” “No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew,” Ben heard Joe sigh, “I don’t know what to say then man,” “I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her. But it fucking sucks that it’s only in public.” “What about now that the movie’s finished?” “I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will make it easier to stop thinking about her…I doubt it though. It’s not like I haven’t tried already. I spent the whole of pre-production and the first weeks of filming trying to get her off my mind and I couldn’t I don’t know how and I don’t think I could unless we literally stopped talking to each other entirely and, honestly I don’t know that I could handle that. But again, we’re back at I don’t have a choice here. I have to keep seeing her and being with her and being her boyf-” A door slammed at the other end of the house, making Ben jolt. “What is it?” “Nothing, I think Y/N just went to the bathroom or something.” “She’s at your place?” “No, I locked myself out of my place. I’m at hers. I should go though, we’re halfway through an episode.” “Ben. Be careful.” “Always am.”

Ben hung up with a sigh. Joe could tell him to move on or spill the beans all he liked but it wasn’t so simple. He slapped his cheeks and shook his head to clear it, pulling a smile back onto his face as he headed back to the living room. He was a little surprised to see the room empty but settled himself on the couch once again, pulling a throw blanket over himself. It smelt like you. Without thinking he pulled up Instagram on his phone and revisited the photo. You’d commented on it, less cheesy but there were heart emojis strewn throughout. A similar sentiment to his original caption. He sighed and shook his head, clicking out of the app to find something else to read until you returned. The sound of your footsteps drew his attention. Something had changed. You looked pale and unwell. “Are you okay?” “Fine, thanks. Just tired. Might call it quits after this ep.” He didn’t think you’d drunk that much but maybe it was just starting to catch up with you now. Then again, it had been a long and emotional day. You had every right to be wiped out by it and especially now that you were home with no filming or celebrating to distract you from how exhausting it all was. He offered you a spot under the blanket in case it would make you feel better to have some human contact. Just for that reason of course, nothing to do with wanting to hold you. He shrugged it off when you refused and didn’t really think of it again until the episode ended and you went off to bed. He was still too alert to sleep himself, still dwelling on the conversation with Joe. So he flicked TV channels until he found something mildly distracting, a rerun of a dumb home renovation show that was easy to get sucked into.

When he did finally feel tired enough to go to bed he turned off the TV and the lights and began to tiptoe down the hall to his room. But there was light coming from your room. Not the yellow light of a bulb but the blue light of a phone or laptop. You were still up. Maybe you really weren’t feeling well. He wondered if he should check on you, offer to make you a tea with honey and lemon or something else comforting. Did you need tissues? A pot in case you had to throw up? Someone to hold your hair back? He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and sighed. This is exactly what you shouldn’t be thinking. He glanced at the light under your door again and then turned and continued his path up the hall. But, after that, he felt awake again. Unable to sleep. There was too much to think about. Maybe the caption on the photo had been a mistake. Maybe Joe was right and he should tell you. Maybe, maybe, maybe. When it came to you that’s all there was. A noise interrupted him, you groaning and the creak of springs as you shifted in the bed. Is she having a wank? That was his first thought. Does she need help? Was his next. Dangerous. Everything fell silent again and he realised you must have just rolled over to try and get comfortable. He didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed. He rolled onto his side, pulled the blanket up a little higher, willed himself to fall asleep but it was out of the question. You shifted again, your bed creaking with the movement. Maybe he should check on you, in case you were unwell. Or maybe there was something on your mind too. Maybe he could help. It was bound to be easier to solve than the mess he was in at any rate. He was on the verge of swinging his legs out of bed again when he was reminded of what Joe said about trying to forget you. He could feel that need to protect you, look after you, rising in his chest again. That wasn’t helpful, it wasn’t what he needed. He sighed and stayed in bed and listened to your tossing and turning until he finally managed to sleep himself. Only to dream of you.

                                                      ***

Ben settled the bill, walked out of the restaurant and kept walking. The entire time thinking back on the days, weeks before the fight was due to occur. Something had seemed off about you. Or maybe that was just hindsight. If he had noticed anything, if he had ever thought you seemed out of sorts, he’d put it down to stress from auditions, trying to find the next job. It wasn’t always easy lining up another project after one had finished. He understood how stressful it could be, especially for an actress like you who was on the cusp of something bigger, looking for your big break. But maybe he’d been blind. After that dinner, after everything you said, there was no denying that something more was going on.

You’d been…not your usual self. From the moment you arrived. He’d asked if you were nervous, but he hadn’t been able to see any of the usual signs. No bouncing let, no bitten lip. So nervous wasn’t it. But you weren’t happy either. He had been though, happy to see you, happy to be with you again. Even with the looming argument. Truthfully, he’d been thinking of what would happen after, when you were alone together and able to just hang out or whatever. He should have realised things were going south the moment you told him to stop looking so happy. He just kept repeating the evening over and over, rewinding and rerunning every moment as if he could figure it all out just from that. Another moment leapt to the front of his mind. “So having a public spat doesn’t bother you but you almost lost your lunch over our first date?” “That was just because the whole situation was new and I felt weird about going on a date with you.” That had hurt though he knew he shouldn’t have let it. Of course you’d have felt weird about going on a date with someone you had no interest in just for the sake of a movie. But still, it had hurt. A taste of what was to come. “Are you nervous?” You didn’t really seem to care what he said. Of course, he hadn’t given you the whole truth. It wasn’t totally dishonest to say argument scenes made him more nervous than love scenes but that was omitting bigger elements. Maybe it would have been more truthful to say the concept of a public fight wasn’t something he was particularly fond of. But at the time he’d felt like if he’d said then he’d have ended up admitting that it was especially true when you were involved. That all he wanted to do was look after you and love you, not argue in a room full of strangers just trying to enjoy a nice meal. After that he felt like he hadn’t been able to get you to say more than a few words. You who was usually so open and conversational. You who he’d spent more time with recently than just about anyone else. You who he could always talk to, joke around with. It was frustrating that you wouldn’t just tell him. He remembers feeling frustrated, of getting short with you. He regretted that. But that was when he was sure something was wrong. He might have ignored all the signs before that but as soon as he felt you had closed yourself off, he wanted to know why. Wanted to figure out what was bothering you, what could have happened. A fight with Felicity? Bad news about an audition? Maybe he’d said something offhanded and hadn’t realised he’d upset you (god if thats the case I want to know even more so I can apologise a hundred times over). He asked about it all, wanted to make things better, but then you were letting rip. Completely off book and unscripted, even when he gave you cues to get back on track. He would have been impressed with your performance except he was so taken aback by it. Without thinking he’d reached for your hand. He can see it happening in his mind, as if he were viewing the scene from above. The way you’d wrenched your hand away, leaving his sitting uselessly in the middle of the table. And all he could hear was “clingy and needy” in your voice with such…what was it, disgust? Hatred? And before he could so much as open his mouth to stop you, you were gone. That’s not what was meant to happen. You were meant to leave together and laugh about it afterwards. He wasn’t meant to be walking through London on his own, trying to figure out what went wrong.

It was then that Ben looked up and realised he didn’t know where he’d walked to. He considered stepping into a bar with all the noise to drown out your voice, all the alcohol he could handle to make him forget. Clingy and needy. But he thought better of it and turned to hail a cab instead. What he couldn’t stop himself from doing was calling you, though he was left disappointed when it went straight to voicemail. He listened for the beep as if he were going to leave a message but when the beep came he didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? What changed? Am I really so clingy? What can I do? Closer to home he tried again but the same thing happened. He hung up before the beep.

As he was letting himself inside his phone rang and for the length of a heartbeat he thought it was you. But it wasn’t. It was just Peter telling him that the video had gone live, congratulating you both for putting on such a good show, being so convincing. He ran through some early statistics, something about how many times it had been shared already, and then followed it by saying they wanted separation for a few weeks, until the make up dinner. Ben listened in a daze. When Peter finally hung up Ben opened twitter. The video was easy to find. He put his phone down on the kitchen bench and moved to pour himself a drink. Maybe he didn’t have quite as much alcohol as a bar, but he had enough to do the trick. His phone was staring at him the entire time. He shook his head, moved the phone to his pocket and headed to his bedroom. His guitar was there, the perfect way to clear his head. He picked it up, sat on the end of the bed and, without thinking, he played the opening chords of that song. Your song. With a slight clatter as his hands knocked the wood, he let the guitar drop back to the bed, trying to dig his phone out of his pocket. The video was still there, waiting for him. Proof. It wasn’t a nightmare, it wasn’t made up. He couldn’t see your face from the angle it was taken. But he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you pulled your hand back as if you couldn’t think of anything worse than having him touch you. And he could hear you. Clingy and needy.

Ben watched it just the once, unable to suffer through it again. It wass already playing on a loop in his head, he didn’t really need the visual reminder. And then he called Joe. There wasn’t really much else he could do. No one else he could talk to about it. Joe had seen it, had watched it, and he commented on how good it looked, how real it seemed. “I think that’s because it was. Y/N went completely off book. We didn’t plan it to be like that,” “Is that why you look so shocked?” “Yeah, guess so.” Ben gulped down a mouthful of his drink and wished he’d brought the bottle with him. “I’m trying very hard not to call her something beginning with B right now,” “Joe she’s not a bitch, she’s…I don’t know. Something must have happened, I just don’t know what. “Maybe she’s starting to crack? Pressure of keeping up a fake relationship is getting to her,” “Can you try not to sound too excited by the idea. I’d remind you I do actually love her and if things work out between us I’d like for you to meet her.” “You can’t blame me for disliking her when I get a call from you every other day telling me she’s broken your heart again,” “You’re such a drama queen,” “Fine, I’ll try to keep my dislike to a minimum. But could it be that? I know she doesn’t have the same baggage as you but it’s probably not easy for her either,” “She called me clingy. Needy. Why would she say that?” “Because she’s a bitch.” “Bloody hell Joe,” “Unless…” “Unless what?” “Is there any chance she knows?” “You mean about me? Come off it, absolutely not. It’s not like I tell everyone I meet about it. You’re the only person who knows.” “Alright, then it must be something else.” “What do I do? I can’t,” Ben sighed, “It was meant to be different. We were going to have words at the restaurant and then go home together looking tense and then laugh about it when we were alone but instead…instead I’m home alone with half a bottle of whisky and a fake girlfriend who won’t answer my calls. What the fuck am I meant to do with that?” “Just give her some space Ben. You don’t know it was you. It could have been any number of things. It might just be that she was having a bad day and because you were already set to have the spat, you caught the brunt of her frustration. She’ll call in a day or two, embarrassed and apologising and you can go back to pining in peace. Out of curiosity, what was the fight originally going to be like?” “Oh, um…We’d decided that I was going to suggest she meet my family and she was going to say she wasn’t ready for that and it was all getting too serious or something like that.” “Well, that’s pretty much what she actually said isn’t it?” Ben thought for a moment. He’d been so wrapped up in her description of him, he’d not really thought about the overall message of her monologue, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” “See, she wasn’t as off script as you thought. She just jumped the gun a bit and took you by surprise. I’d guarantee that it’s something else entirely and you just happened to be the unlucky outlet for her anger.” “Maybe you’re right. She did say that thing about pretending everything was okay and acting like we’re serious….how I love her more than she loves me,” “And you’re certain she doesn’t know,” “100 per cent. She’s never had the chance to find out,” “Then of course I’m right, it was just an issue of timing and you being in the line of fire,” “Maybe I should see her,” “No! Bad idea Ben. Really bad idea.” “I just want to be sure it wasn’t my fault. If I’d been less wrapped up in pretending she was my girlfriend then may-” “Stop beating yourself up. Just try not to drink too much and get some sleep. She’ll sort herself out and call when she’s less mortified by the whole thing.” “Okay, yeah,” “And for fucks sake, stay off twitter,” Ben hung up, feeling marginally better but unable to shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. Clingy and needy. Clingy and needy. Clingy. And needy. The way you’d spat the words at him. The way you’d stormed out. He sighed, slumped forward, and ran his hands down his face. No, Joe’s right, it’s not you. But, as much as he repeated it, Ben still found tears clinging to his palms as he pulled them away.

                                                      ***

Ben looked at his phone and bit his lip. His eyes shifted back to the ocean of brake lights ahead of the car and then back to his phone. He was already running late and the traffic didn’t seem to be moving. God he did not want to be late. Not after everything that had happened. Not after you’d cleared up the mess from the fight, not after he’d made such an effort to be less clingy, to give you more space. Things weren’t back to normal by any stretch but at least you were talking again, at least you’d missed him. The conversation you’d had the previous night, staying on the phone to watch TV. He’d been surprised by your suggestion but equally as thrilled. It had to be a sign that you felt something too. People don’t just watch episodes of TV over the phone for anyone, do they? He was in with a chance, he knew it. But, in the hours after the episode had ended and the call with it, he’d come to one conclusion. He had to tell you. He had to bite the bullet and tell you. If he wanted something real with you, you had to know. And if he kept it secret any longer it could lead to more arguments which he definitely did not want. What he wanted was for you to understand why he’d become so attached, and hopefully, to reciprocate. So he was going to tell you. And he couldn’t be late.

As the car inched forward Ben made up his mind. He was going to be there on time, one way or another. With a thankful word to the driver he got out of the car and hurried onto the pavement, beginning to walk towards the restaurant. He’d spent all day feeling like he was about to have a heart attack, chest aching with how badly he wanted to see you and how nervous he was about your reaction. He wasn’t going to fuck up now. As he walked a display in a shop window caught his eye and he quickly stepped inside. The bell tinkled as he entered, getting the assistant’s attention. She gave him a up and down glance as she greeted him, as if trying to determine the occasion based on his outfit alone. “Welcome to Coming Up Roses, what can I do for you?” “I need a bouquet,” “I can certainly help with that. Any flowers you had in mind?” “Uhhh not really. Spur of the moment,” “Well what’s the occasion then? I have flowers for everything from weddings to funerals, I’m sorry to Congratulations,” “Um, I’m about to tell the girl of my dreams that I’m in love with her,” The woman smiled, “I’ve got just the thing,”

A minute later and Ben was once again hurrying up the street, clutching the freshly wrapped bouquet, his heart pounding as he tried not to worry about how much time was passing. He had to pause at one point to get a map up on his phone, unsure of the restaurant’s exact location. He was further away than he thought and quickened his step, threading through groups of people on nights out, trying not to bump into anyone. You were already there, waiting. He could see you from half a street away and ran to meet you, kissing your cheek and handing over the bouquet before he really registered that that’s what he was doing. It was only as you were smelling the flowers and complementing them that he realised you were there, actually there, and he suddenly felt extra nervous about it all. “I saw it in the shop and, um yeah, I don’t know, they seemed nice, a-and I know you, um, like nice things, so,” Ben wanted to die, wanted to be sucked into a hole in the ground, sent through a time warp, anything to not be there babbling at you like a fucking idiot. “It’s very sweet of you, thank you,” “I’m glad you think so because right now it feels kinda cliché and cheesy.” Shut up “Now you have to carry them around all night,” fucking shut up, “what was I thinking?” for the love of all that is holy, “And god can I just shut up. Sorry.” He didn’t know what had come over him, but he wished it would go away. And things only got worse as he looked you over, took in your whole appearance. Seeing you just made him want you even more, especially with how gorgeous you looked. He wanted to kiss you, tell you. But he had to be able to speak to tell you and he wasn’t going to be able to do that until he relaxed a little. A drink, that’s what he needed. He downed his first one fast, willing it to work its magic. It did help calm him, though your laugh just made his heart race again. Halfway through the next glass he felt like he could say it and was on the verge of just getting it out into the open when you were interrupted, shown to your table. He took it as a sign that it would be bad timing and that he needed to wait. Instead he focused on just having a good night with you. The memory of your last dinner was still in the back of his mind but he pushed it away by reminding himself that things were better now. He felt himself relax more as you talked and with every touch you gave him. The drinks were definitely part of it too but he put it down to you mostly. How much you sooth him, how happy he finds himself when he’s in your presence. He could breathe properly again. You startled him a little by saying Joe would want to meet you but of course, you don’t know that he knows that it’s all a big production so you just meant it in a friend-being-curious-about-the-girlfriend type way. Very far from the truth. But Ben agrees and changes the topic.

When dessert arrived, he thought maybe that could be a good time to say it because it’s the end of the meal and you can leave quickly if you need to. But before he get’s to it he finds himself asking something else instead. “Can I ask about these last couple of weeks?” He hoped he hadn’t wrecked the evening by bringing it up but he was curious too, “Was it good? The space, did you get what you wanted from it?” Ben worried at his lip as he watched you slowly finish your mouthful and set the spoon down. “Yes. I’m not going to lie and say it wasn’t helpful because it really was. Just, having that break from everything. I think I really needed it. But I really really missed you too.” That was a relief. Proof that you were on the same page again, back to normal. And proof that you did care about him. “I’m glad. It was hard not seeing you but yeah, helped me figure some stuff out too. Confirmed some other stuff.” “Like what? If you don’t mind me asking.” This is it, this is your moment, “Like, um,” He wanted to say it, had the words picked out already but, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk driving you away again, causing another scene. Maybe he could say it back at his place, away from the cameras and the interested public. Maybe that would be smarter. All the same, he felt disappointed with himself for not having the guts to just tell you, and to try to cover the moment asked if you wanted to leave. As you step outside he remembers the kiss that was expected and he leans in to remind you. It’s more than a kiss though, different to all the other times you’d kissed. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. Any excuse really. And he says as much when he, somewhat accidentally admits to having missed kissing you. It was a thought that somehow slipped out of his mouth, but either you didn’t hear him or you were too caught up in the moment to say anything. Or she feels the same. He pushed the hopeful thought down as you kissed him back. His heart pounded as he felt your hands on his chest, as if it were trying to tell you what he’d been too much of a coward to say. And then you whined and settled on his lap and god what a fucking gorgeous sound. He’d spent months getting off to the memory of a hum and now you were gifting him a whine? An eager, excited whine at that. The sort of thing he’d been trying to imagine and it was so much better than anything he’d come up with. Your hand was in his hair and he very nearly echoed your noise back to you from that alone, but it caught in his throat as you kept kissing him, tongues twisting, your chest pressed against his. He wanted to hold you close and touch every part of you he could reach all at once, unsure of whether to grab your arse or you hip or the back of your neck. So he did a bit of it all, slid his hand along your arm and then down your back and then to your arse. And all too soon it stops. He could have cursed that driver and the heartless car horn that interrupted and sent reality crashing back down around him.

Once you were inside the safe zone of his house, away from the act, he expected things to go back to normal. You’d take off your makeup and then make a cup of tea and fill a glass of water for your flowers and you’d wind down with something on TV before you both went to bed. He’d have to have a shower to get off without you suspecting anything because there was no way he was going to be able to sleep with the memory of your tits pressed against him and your whine and your kiss swimming around his head. But you don’t walk to the bathroom like you normally do. He pulls the wallet from his pocket, places it deliberately next to his keys. But you still haven’t moved. He turns slowly, notices the way you swallow and lick your lips and he swears he’s on the verge of asking what you’re doing or saying something about it being a mistake, at least the thought crosses his mind, but you were standing so close (when did she get so close?) and when you kiss him again he just kisses back.

It’s a mistake probably, definitely, he knows that. He can hear the siren in his head again telling him to stop, pull away. But the problem is that it doesn’t feel like a mistake, doesn’t feel like it should be, and when he takes a step back you step with him and again and again until he’s somehow on the couch with you on his lap again. And why would he stop that, why would he say no to you when you fit there so perfectly and you feel so good? And all he can think about is that whine and that hum from all those months ago and he wants to see what other sounds he can pull from you so he drops his lips to your neck. “Wait, wait,” He’s confused as to why you’re stopping him and even more confused when you’re not in his arms anymore. “It’s rule one Ben,” Bugger rule one. Bugger all the fucking rules, you’ve broken most of them tonight anyway if they weren’t already broken. A voice in the back of his head reminds him what a big mistake that would be, but it can’t argue against making out. Making out isn’t against the rules and you know it too, you hesitate when he says it out loud. “I’d be good to you Y/N, you know I would,” he’s not sure if he’s talking about here and now, physically, or something deeper, something in the realm of boyfriend but what does it matter because both are true. You shake your head, “You know this isn’t real, right Ben?” And then it all comes out. That you knew about his crush. And everything stops. Just stops. He can’t breathe, air doesn’t exist anymore, and he’d say his heart had stopped too except he can hear it pounding in his ears, drowning out whatever you’re saying. You knew? You’d known for months? All those times Joe had suggested it, all that time he spent worrying about keeping it from you and you already fucking knew? And then everything seems to speed up all at once. The air rushes back, as loud as his heart, which only doubles it’s pounding until he can feel it trying to punch a hole through his chest and escape. Rational thought returns, connecting dots and drawing conclusions almost faster than he can keep up. “Is that why you were upset before the argument? Is that why you didn’t want to see me for the last two weeks?” “I thought some space might help you stop feeling that way.” He has to laugh at how fucking ridiculous an idea that is. That space would have ever helped him purge you from his system. Love isn’t that easy to get rid of. And his tongue must have sped up with the rest of his body because he’s saying it, the thing he’s been putting of saying, the thing he’s been wanting to tell you all night, and he wishes he could stop because this isn’t how he wanted it to go. This wasn’t how you were meant to find out. But no matter how much he screams at himself he can’t take it back. It’s out there. And you look horrified. “You love me?” Three words have never been spoken with more contempt than you managed to cram into that once sentence. “You don’t have to say you don’t feel the same, I know.” Your silence cuts through him like a knife, shredding what little hope remained. His heart isn’t beating against his chest anymore. It’s been kicked across the room and lies lifeless against the wall.  “That’s what I thought.”

He can’t be here anymore, can’t look at you. He wants to leave but he remembers all the cameras outside, reminds you of their presence in case you’re planning the same escape he is. He’s trapped there and so are you. So he puts as much space between you as he can, heads to his room and slumps heavily onto the end of his bed. All he can think about is those three words, you love me? Not a hopeful question. Not even stunned surprise.  More of an accusation. He tastes blood but otherwise barely notices when he tears his lip with his teeth. You must hate him for getting you both into this mess. He hates that he’s done it, that he’s put you in this position. And he knows you’re never going to want to speak with him let alone see him again. And he knows that as soon as the cameras leave, you’ll leave too. And that thought hurts just as much as everything else. You’re moving about, he can hear you walking around. It sounds like you’re pacing. Five steps and then a turn and then five more steps, another turn. Something about the rhythm breaks through his overactive, panicking, worrying mind. Something about it calms him. Maybe it’s that knowing you’re restless and agitated makes him want to comfort you, despite everything he’s feeling. Or maybe it’s just because the sound of your footfall means you’re still here. And if you’re still here then maybe he can smooth things over. He doesn’t expect to fix everything. He’d understand if you still wanted to erase him from your contacts and pretend you were only ever colleagues. But if he can just explain himself, explain that he never meant for this to happen, explain why he kept it from you or tried to anyway and maybe explain what he’d wanted tonight to be instead of the clusterfuck it’d become. If he can get any of that out then maybe you won’t hate him quite so much.

He says your name softly, not sure he’s allowed to say your name, “I heard you pacing.” “Sorry, I’ll keep the noise down.” “No, that’s not- it’s okay. I just thought, since we’re both clearly awake and since they haven’t left yet, I thought you might like a cuppa.” “I didn’t think you drank tea,” Have you really not noticed yet? He never bought tea bags, until you started coming to stay over regularly. Twice you opined about not being able to have a cup of tea before bed and that was all it took for him to start keeping them in his cupboard along with the biscuits you prefer. That’s how he knows it’s love. He took a breath as he pulled out mugs and stuck the kettle on, resolutely not looking at you. If he looks at you he’ll spill his guts and won’t be able to stop. He has to make tea first. Just the way you like it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” It comes out the second he looks at your face and it’s only that you’re telling him you understand that he doesn’t immediately say more. He drops his eyes to the brown liquid in his mug, undrinkable in his opinion, but a perfectly adequate distraction. He needs to get the words right this time. No stumbling and stuttering, no blurting things out without thinking. He needs to say it right so you’ll listen and understand what he’s trying to do. “I promise I understand where you’re at and I’m not going to try and convince you or to chase you or anything like that. I really am trying not to feel this way.” He glances back at your eyes, terrified of what he’d see there. “It’s okay Ben, I know you wouldn’t. I just wasn’t expecting you to drop the L bomb.” “Please don’t hate me,” it’s a whisper compared to everything else he’s said but there’s no way to make his voice stronger. It’s the thing he’s most worried about and admitting it out loud to you is harder than he imagined it would be. “I could never,” the sincerity with which you say it is almost enough to make him cry but the hug is what pushes him over the edge. It’s more warmth and kindness than he thinks he deserves after everything he’s done. And it’s exactly what he needed. Comfort and reassurance in one simple gesture. He wraps his arms around you for the third time that night, his face pressed into the cook of your neck, and you let him, squeezing back, as he lets everything out.

                                                        ***

The night after you met Joe, Ben visits him again, this time without you. It had always been the plan, to see Joe a few times, as much as the press circuit would allow, while he was in the US. But after the previous night it’s more necessary. And yet, Ben was struggling to vocalise any of his questions. It’s not until after dinner, when Joe suggests they take their drinks out onto the veranda, that any of it comes up. It’s peaceful out there, sitting in the cool night air, each of them taking turns to swig from their beer bottle as they talk. But Ben’s mind is constantly disrupted with thoughts of you. It’s the first time since all the promotion stuff started that he’s had more than a couple of minutes away from your side. Joe isn’t helping, constantly glancing at Ben, frowning, as if he’s trying to work something out. But he’s the first to crack, making it easier for Ben to talk. “How’s it going?” “Press is fine, bit boring. You know how repetitive it can get,” “And you know that’s not what I meant,” “Yeah. Nah, everything’s fine. Mostly,” “Mostly?” “It’s not easy having to share a room with her. I mean, it’s fun though. I’m glad she’s the one I’m doing all this shit with. We’re mates and we’ve been working so closely for so long now that we…get each other. Like there was this interview where one of the questions made me uncomfortable and she knew straight away and broke in to take some of the heat. She just says whatever she can to make me laugh or ease the tension or whatever will help. And I know when she’s getting nervous and needs a break or a fresh cuppa. But when it’s just us in our suite it’s…hard. I don’t know, I’m just trying to keep some distance even though there’s not much to be had. What did you think of her?” “Honestly?” “Of course,” “She’s perfect for you. Except for the not being interested part.” Ben nodded, letting his eyes fall to where his fingernail was digging into the label on his bottle. “Although…” “What?” Ben looked back at Joe, “You think she might be?” “I don’t know. And I don’t want to get your hopes up. She certainly doesn’t think she is. I asked her about it while you were out here last night and she was adamant that she doesn’t think of you that way but that’s not how it looked to me.” “We had a moment yesterday. Just before we came here. Nearly kissed.” “Seriously? Again?” “I stopped it. Kind of wish I hadn’t. Maybe if something happened, she’d change her mind,” “I know I’m not part of this situation and I wasn’t there and can only go off of what you’ve said and the one time I’ve met her but, for what it’s worth, I think you made the right call.” “Yeah?” “I don’t think you want anything to happen with her until you’re both more sure where you stand. Definitely not while you’re stuck sharing a hotel room.” “But what if -” Joe shook his head, “I watched her last night. She looked at you a lot and not just because you were the one talking. She also smiled a lot whenever your attention was on her. I was half expecting her to say she had a thing for you but wasn’t sure if she should tell you or something like that. So I think there is a good chance she is attracted to you but for some reason, doesn’t want to admit it and I think sleeping with her would just make things more complicated and worse for both of you. You said she had her little freak out thing when you were hooking up after that date. You don’t want to let things get further and have her freak out again.” “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just confusing myself because we’ve been in such close quarters. I just wish things were more certain y’know? Like, she keeps saying she doesn’t like me as more than a friend but then we’ll have a moment like we did in the hotel, or like on the plane when she was leaning on my shoulder to help with my crossword puzzle, or when we fucking made out. And then I’m back getting my hopes up only for her to turn around and crush me again. And it’s probably nothing anyway. Just pent up urges since we’ve been fucking trapped in this for months now.” “I don’t know man, it might be more than that. She seemed really into you last night.” “Nah. She’s horny and I’m there and that’s why we’ve had these near kisses and stuff. She’s said she doesn’t like me so that’s it. Maybe it’s better that way anyway.” Joe shook his head again but let the subject drop, “So how long are you here for again? There’s this restaurant up the road I should take you to.”

                                                      ***

The closer he got to his parent’s place the more tightly wound Ben felt. Bringing a girl home to meet the family was always at least a little nerve wracking – wondering whether they’d like her, whether she’d like them, how many embarrassing stories he’d have to sit through. But he could safely say that with you it was worse than with anyone else. There was so much history with you, despite never having legitimately dated, that he couldn’t stop thinking about. You meant so much to him. And he knew his mum was going to love you (how could she not) and that meant he was going to be asked why it took him so long to bring you around and about where it was headed and they were questions he didn’t really feel up to answering. Of course, on top of all of that, there was the prospect of sharing a room with you, maybe a bed. You hadn’t entirely worked out the arrangement and not knowing was just making him more nervous. Not just for himself either, for you as well. If he was nervous he could only imagine you were too. You were going to be facing questions as well, judgement from a new family. A family you didn’t even want to be part of. So he kept close to you all night. Because it’s easier to pretend to be a couple when you’re by his side and it’s easier to avoid tough conversations when he has the excuse of introducing you to someone else up his sleeve. And it’s so much easier to keep his folks away from you when he’s got your hand in his. He does circuits of the garden with you, chats to everyone with you, repeating the story of how you met and the fiction of how you started dating. And the whole time he’s trying to make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself at least a little because you don’t even have actual feelings for him to push you on. He’d gladly endure first meetings with every single member of your family tree if you asked but he knows you’re only there because you have to be. Unfortunately, he’s also had a bit to drink so eventually he has to relieve himself, silently cursing his bladder because it means he has to leave you on your own. You don’t seem to mind too much. If anything, it feels like you’ve found your feet and are actually having a good night which he’s glad for. But he still goes as quick as he can.

He’s on his way back when he sees you and instantly realises something’s wrong. Your leg is bouncing so rapidly it’s a wonder you don’t knock the underside of the table, and you’re looking around as if you’re trying to find him. His first thought is that someone has said something inappropriate. There’s plenty of drunk cousins around and who knows what one of them might have said or done in a misguided attempt to be charming or impressive or flirtatious. But then he realises who you’re sitting next to and his stomach drops. So he hurries over to the table and takes the seat beside you, laying his hand on your knee to try to calm you. It works well enough for you to be able to sit there a little longer until he can find a reasonable excuse to leave the table and his mum. He’s not in the mood to be at the party anymore and leads you to the exit, politely waving off anyone who tries to convince you both to stay a little longer. “Better?” he asks once you’re outside, relieved when you say yes. “She mentioned us getting married,” “What? Why the fuck would that have come up?” Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d been prepared for a lot but not that. “It was just a passing comment but I….” “It’s okay, c’mon, let’s go home you can tell me everything.” Without thinking he pulled you into a hug, breathing out when he felt you lean into him.

By the time he got back to the house Ben wanted another drink. You’d sat under his arm the entire ride back, keeping quiet, obviously lost in thought as you absentmindedly played with his fingers. Every brush had made him want to take your hand properly and tilt your head up to kiss you, irresponsible and selfish as it might be. One of the upsides of being back home was knowing where his parents hid their best booze, so he dug out a bottle of his dad’s Johnnie Walker, feeling a little like a teenager again, pinching a drink to impress a girl. You laughed though so he counted it as a win. But the reason you were alone together, no longer at the party, was still weighing on him and clearly on you as well. “So what happened back there?” He handed you a glass and waited until you felt you could speak. “I guess it was just harder to be around your family than I was expecting.” Everything you said made sense he supposed. He’d not really considered it that way because he wasn’t so much lying as just playing pretend. But, as much as he wished you were on the same page, he understood where your guilt came from. He tried to make you laugh again but when it didn’t work he set his glass down and took your hand. “Seriously, Y/N, there’s nothing to feel guilty about. The premiere is coming up in a couple of weeks and then pretty soon after that we’ll break up and I’ll tell them it just wasn’t working. They’ll accept it and never have to know the truth. And then we can forget this whole thing and move on.” His chest tightened at the thought of it, not being allowed to even pretend to have you anymore but he clamped down on it for your sake. “But it must be hard for you too. Having me here and everything,” He half shrugged, looking down at where his thumb was brushing the back of your hand softly, “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” Ben glanced back at you, about to tell you it was sweet of you to care about how he was doing, but when he saw your expression he stopped.

He was a little shocked by the kiss, stumbling back a step or two, the warning siren blaring in his head again. Everything told him to run away and yet his feet were frozen in place. Joe had been right when he said he shouldn’t do this, and he’d been here before. It hadn’t gone well then so what made him think it would be better this time? But somehow he can’t find the words and you kiss him again and he decides he’s going to let it happen. He’s sick of trying to fight how badly he wants you and you clearly want this too. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be trying to undress him. He decides he’s going to let himself be selfish for once and just go with it. After the decisions made it all turns into a bit of a blur really. You’re leaning against the table and then he’s carrying you up to his room and it’s like every almost kiss, every missed opportunity and pent up moment you’d never let yourselves have is breaking all at once. You’re on his bed now and god he’s wanted you like this for so fucking long and who cares if it’s wrong. One night won’t matter. And he’s surprised by how wet you are when you pull his hand towards your cunt but he loves that you’re taking the initiative and that you clearly want him just as much as he wants you. You don’t tell him to stop. You tell him how to touch you, what feels good, and he loves that about you too. Even more than he loves how you sound saying his name as you clench on his fingers and shiver through your orgasm and fuck, he thought the whine from last time was a captivating sound but it has nothing on this, on how you sound when you cum for him. He’s going to be thinking about that moment, about you saying his name like that forever. He wants to be inside you, wants to hear it again, wants to make you feel even better and he’s forgotten where you are and how you got there so he leans over and realises this isn’t this room. This room isn’t as prepared as he’d like. For a moment he thinks that’s it and maybe it’s for the best except then you say you have condoms as you get up and rummage through your bags. He wants to know why – were you planning this or are you always just prepared like that? – except then you’re coming back towards him and he really doesn’t care why, just that you do. You climb on top of him and he feels breathless at the sight. He wants to worship you, every inch of you, and he wants to be as close as possible, pushing himself up to kiss you again because he loves you. He says it without meaning to but he doesn’t care, he’s just trying to get you to moan his name again, rubbing your clit until you’re both finished, breathing hard against each other. You’re kissing along his jaw and he wants to stay like that forever, blissed out and tangled in each other’s embrace. But reality rushes back, ignoring how desperately he’s trying to cling to the moment, and he realises how messy everything suddenly is. It hurts too. Knowing it’s not real, knowing that you don’t want what he wants. He remembers what he said just moments before, that confession whispered against your lips, and it makes him feel queasy with embarrassment on top of the heartache that’s already setting in. How many times does he have to put himself through this pain before he gets it through his head? It’s not reciprocated. It never will be. “I’ve gotta…” Ben nods his head in the direction of the door, hoping you’ll fill in the blank yourself. He wants to leave but he also wants to stay there with you, so he settles on shifting out of your reach and looking over at you, not quite able to meet your eye. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” Weren’t you? “Neither. Are you okay?” “Yeah. I, um, it was really good and I-I think I kind of needed it.” Ben tried to smile but it didn’t feel like it worked properly. Sure you needed it. A quick fuck to break the forced dry spell. He wanted to run from the room, flee the scene “It was good for me too. Really good. But it can’t ever happen again.” He averted his eyes again, focused on slipping back into his underwear. There was half a second where he looked around for his shirt before realising it was out at the table with the unfinished whiskies. He’d have to tidy up so no one would be able to work out what happened.

Ben downed what remained of both drinks, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction, though much too brief. He grabs his phone from the table, drops the glasses onto the kitchen sink and heads outside to throw the used condom into the garbage bin. As if he was going to leave the evidence of his cowardice and misjudgement inside for anyone to find. Ben turned to head back towards the door, but he didn’t want to walk through it. Inside he’d have to face you and he wasn’t sure how to do that yet. Instead he walked down the sideway into the backyard, taking a seat on the retaining wall by the flower bed of peonies. It’s not exactly warm sitting there in just his boxers and his fingers shake a little as he unconsciously find’s Joe’s name in his contacts. Joe must be busy or asleep or something (What’s the time difference again?) because he doesn’t pick up. Instead the call goes to voicemail. “Joe, it’s Ben here. Um… you’re gonna laugh so hard when you hear how fucking stupid I am,” Ben forces a laugh himself, “So I, uh, I just told Y/N that I love her….again….while we were having sex.” A pause as it sank in, “I’m not even sure how it…how we got to… We were just talking and then we were in bed and…. But it’s okay because I told her it could never happen again,” Ben thinks of how affectionate you’d been after, kissing his jaw and his nose, clinging to him, but it wasn’t real, it was just your post-sex, post-orgasm mood. He starts to laugh, less false but not entirely natural either, “I have to drive back with her tomorrow. Christ. Talk about bad timing, huh. But it’s fine though, it’s fine, totally fine. Joe, it’s fine. Because it wasn’t real. We’ve both been pent up and she spent all day with my family and had to listen to my mum talk about us maybe getting married. This was her reward. And that’s all it was. And I’m the idiot for hoping it could ever be more than that. I mean it’s not like friends don’t sometimes fuck, right? Especially when they’ve been drinking and pretending to date. Sex doesn’t have to mean feelings and it doesn’t for her and that’s fine.” There was that tight feeling in his chest again. Ben cleared his throat. “The drive will give me a chance to tell her it was a mistake. Because it was. This whole thing was a mistake. It was a mistake to fuck her and it was a mistake to bring her to meet my family and it was a mistake to pretend to date her and the biggest mistake of all of them was falling for her. And I haven’t been doing enough to reverse that. I know I said I have been, but I haven’t. I got caught up in the maybes and what ifs and I didn’t really try to move on. But now I…. It’s gotta fucking end sometime. I can’t keep doing this. So I’ve got to tell her it was a mistake and I don’t love her. Maybe I never did. Maybe I’m the same as her and it was all just because I was horny. Whatever. Now I can move on with my life. She doesn’t love me and I don’t love her and she’ll just be some bitch I nailed and we’ll both be happy, right?” Ben sighed and swiped at his blurry eyes. He’s not sure if the voicemail cut out midway through his thought process but it probably doesn’t matter. Movement from upstairs catches his eye. You in his old bedroom, getting dressed and leaving the room. He’s a little worried that if he heads back inside now he’ll bump into you on your way to get a drink from the kitchen but he can’t sit outside in the chill air all night. He takes a breath and swipes his knuckle over his eyes again before heading back inside, creeping towards the bedroom. You weren’t anywhere to be seen, though he guesses that means you’re in the bathroom. When he reached the bedroom again, he dug into the closet and pulled out a number of spare blankets, stealing a pillow from the bed. It’s not a particularly comfortable nest that he makes but it’s warm and doesn’t smell as much like you as the bed does. The pillow still holds a trace of you, but he flips it over and the scent is gone. He’s there when you get back, already pretending to sleep, curled in on himself facing away from you. “Ben?” He squeezes his eyes tighter shut, listening as you flick off the light and tiptoe back towards the bed. There’s a creak of springs as you get comfortable and then another as you move again. “Ben?” Your voice sounds even softer that time and Ben is tempted to answer but he bites his tongue. “Ben I-I…. Goodnight.” There’s another creak as you settle back down again. Ben lies perfectly still until he’s sure you aren’t going to move again. He doesn’t want to hear whatever you’re trying to say. It’ll just be everything he already knows. So he keeps quiet and feigns sleep in the hopes that real sleep will bring it’s respite sooner rather than later.

                                                      ***

Ben’s phone rang and he admonished himself for hoping it was you. He was meant to be getting over you. Besides, the hope was misplaced. It was his mum. “How did Y/N’s audition go?” “Uh,” It took him a moment to remember the excuse he’d made up, “yeah, well I think.” “She’s lovely, Ben. I’m glad you finally let us meet her,” “Yeah,” He didn’t know how else to respond but his mother didn’t need much more encouragement than that. “You should bring her back soon, I’d love to have more of a chance to get to know her. It was a bit hard with so many people there.” “Yeah, um, I’d have to check when we’re free.” He said, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m sure you could find one night for us,” “Yeah. But there’s the premier coming soon and we’ve both got auditions and meetings lined up so I don’t know for sure. But let me talk to Y/N and we’ll find a day that works.” “Maybe a weekend? You could stay for a couple of days then, wouldn’t have to rush off.” “We’ll see. Depends.” “Don’t leave it too long honey,” “I won’t mum. Sorry, I’ve got to run, expecting a call back about something.” “Alright, love you,” “Love you too mum,” Ben threw his phone to the other side of the couch and sighed. He’d been expecting that call but that didn’t make it any easier to get through. Not when he’d spent the last few days thinking about that night and everything that had happened. The way your lips felt on his, the way you’d looked sitting on his lap, the way you’d sounded when you came. He shook his head as if he were an etch-a-sketch but the thoughts didn’t disappear, they just morphed into thoughts of later, in the car on the way home. How you’d nodded when he’d said he didn’t love you, clearly overjoyed with the news but trying not to show it.

 Ben hadn’t gone cold turkey with you, there was still some contact, but he refrained from anything too unnecessary, spent as much time as he could with his other friends, and tried to keep any replies to you as simple as possible. Unfortunately his parents was less restrained. A few days later his mum called again, checking if he’d had a chance to invite you over yet. The day after he received a message from his dad suggesting he come down for lunch on the weekend (and encouraging him to bring you along), and then a couple days after that there was another call, one which he ignored. Every time he was thrown back to that night. But not even ignoring the calls helped. It just left him dwelling on everything and it didn’t even deter them. When next his mum called he found himself in yet another conversation on the topic and only just managed to stop himself from hanging up in her ear. He couldn’t do it anymore. It was pointless, all of it. The part of him that had thought you’d fall for him if you slept together had been proven wrong so there was nothing left to hope for. But with his family and friends thinking you were dating, always asking after you, and with you texting him memes and requesting his help, how was he meant to move on? What he needed was a clean break. But the breakup wasn’t scheduled until after the premiere and it wasn’t like a date had been set, it was up to the studio or your agents or someone else. And Ben wasn’t sure how he’d be able to wait it out that long.

 A breakthrough came in an email from Peter, an update about the movie Ben had signed on for. Originally it was meant to film in England, but those plans were in the process of changing. Part of it would still be done around London but now it seemed a big portion of the filming would happen in Spain too. Peter seemed unsure as to how this change would clash with the plans for the breakup but Ben saw it as the opportunity he needed. He wouldn’t be leaving until after the premiere anyway so it wouldn’t change your last public appearance together, but it would also work as the clean break he’d been looking for. Plus, as he reasoned to Peter, they could use the distance as an excuse for why the breakup happened. Peter seemed to like the idea and agreed that the change of location wouldn’t affect anything enough to make Ben drop out. Ben was relieved, having been excited about the project since he first picked up the script, and began looking forward to getting away from you properly. Being in a completely different country would give him the time and space he needed to stop thinking about you. It would be easy to sever all ties to you and get on a plane and move on, maybe meet someone who could drive you from his mind. He’d have to break up with you though, not just through the press but as a friend too. He couldn’t have you texting him while he was away or commenting on photos he posted online. It had to be complete. He had to remove you from his life entirely. After the premiere would be a good time to tell you. He’d pull you aside at the party or maybe tell you in the limo on the way home. It’d be hard to explain but you’d understand. She’s probably been wondering how to get rid of you anyway. Surely, you’d be pleased to hear he was going to leave you alone, not bother you with his stupid feelings anymore. You’d agree it was for the best.

                                                      ***

The night of the premiere snuck up on Ben. He’d been distracted with warding off his parents every invitation, on top of sorting out everything for his trip to Spain. Before he knew it the night had arrived making him feel equal parts excited about seeing the final product of what he’d spent so many months working on and anxious about seeing you. All he could think about was what he was going to say to you. He felt bad about cutting you from his life but there was relief too, knowing it’d be over soon. As he dressed in the suit his stylist had picked out he went over the speech he’d mentally written. It’s just a breakup, you’ve done it before. Tell her you’re sorry but you can’t see her anymore. That’s all you have to do. So, it was with this confusing mixture of emotions that he got into the limo and he only felt more ill at ease as he approached your place to pick you up. “You look lovely,” he said as you climbed into the car beside him. It came out more robotic than he meant it to. But there was a sense that this was the last time he’d be allowed to properly look at you so, while you were getting settled and taking in the interior of the limousine, he allowed himself a final chance to look you over. A hundred other adjectives to describe how beautiful you were, all dressed up and glowing, popped into his head but he kept those to himself. He couldn’t second guess his decision now. It was the only way to stop caring about you. And yet, he could feel his resolve crumbling just from being near you for the first time in weeks. No. Don’t let her get to you. This is why you can’t be in contact. Ben felt his hand curl into a fist as he reminded himself how useful the space would be. What he needed was some rules, guidelines to follow to help him stick to his plan. He ignored the irony as he came up with them. No holding hands. Actually, make that no physical contact. No voluntary physical contact anyway. He was bound to be asked by someone to take a photo with you or appear on camera with you and he couldn’t refuse if they asked for him to touch you or kiss you or anything. Do as many interviews as you can without her. That would hopefully keep interactions to a minimal. Don’t look at her during the movie.

 It was surprisingly easy to stick to the rules as you both made your way down the red carpet, but he knew it wasn’t so much his choice as it was how busy and noisy and chaotic everything was. People called his name from every side, reporters looking for quick interviews, fans looking for autographs or photos. He was able to sidestep you easily, answering questions that were thrown at him on his own until someone asked if they could speak to you both at once or get a photo of you together. Whenever you were waved over to join him, he attempted to maintain as much space as he could, but you seemed to have set your own rules just to make it harder for him. You took his hand, leant your head on his shoulder, stood so close your leg brushed against his, stroked your hand over his arm, anything and everything you could to be closer to him. Ben wasn’t sure if you really were acting more affectionate (clingy and needy) than normal or if it just felt that way because he was attempting to hold back. He put up with it though, unable to do much besides press on to the next interview without you. The hardest part was when you reached a bank of photographers who wanted a number of photos of the happy couple. Someone called out for him to kiss you and then suddenly the entire crowd was calling for it. He kept it soft and brief, though a part of him regretted not making the final kiss you’d share better.

 After that he was able to escape you for a little, talking to people as everyone gathered in the theatre to watch the movie. He didn’t look at you again until he was on stage with you, introducing the film and saying his words of gratitude and celebration. But even that didn’t last long and then he was able to take his seat and focus his attention on the screen. Watching himself was always a bit of a weird experience. Part enjoying what he’s helped create, part critiquing his performance, and part wondering why it had been edited the way it had been edited. But somehow it was even stranger sitting beside you and watching you play at being in love with him. He recognised expressions, small smiles and looks, that you’d given him on dates during the course of your relationship. Just proof of how fake everything with you was. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and an oddly jealous feeling in his gut. And he could feel you looking at him but he stuck to his rules and kept his eyes fixed ahead.

 He turned to his other side afterwards to talk to Alfie, wondering aloud how everyone would react to the movie and laughing about how well it had turned out. Ben couldn’t think what to say to you, knowing the inevitable end was coming. It was closer now that everyone was heading to the after party. So he was grateful when Alfie joined the two of you in your car. “You two ready to party?” He laughed, “Fuck I love that work gives me such a good excuse to get plastered.” Ben laughed along but he was stuck by the realisation that of course there’d be drinking. He’d have to watch how much he had, especially around you. He didn’t want to say something he’d regret or not be able to explain himself properly. “I think shots are in order to get us started. Meet you both by the bar?” “Sounds like a plan Al,” “I’m making yours a double Jones. We’ll have him dancing on the table by the end of the night, right Y/N?” “Oh I’d love to see that.” Cameras flashed as the small group got out of the car. Alfie headed off down the line, catching up with one of the others, leaving Ben and you on your own. Ben felt you press into his side, hanging off his arm, and thought about what waited in the club. Alfie with shots followed by champagne and cocktails and whatever else would be pressed on him during the night. He didn’t want to blurt it out or let it slip in front of other people. He had to tell you before he’d had anything to drink, just in case. It was now. It had to happen now.

 As soon as he was inside, Ben looked around for somewhere he could have a quiet word with you, somewhere no one was likely to overhear. A nearby mirrored hallways seemed the perfect place. Everyone else was busy heading into the main room and it was out of view of the photographers still hanging around outside, waiting for the stragglers to show up. “Can I speak to you over hear a sec?” he lead you around the corner, looking around to double check for eavesdroppers, “So, there’s something I need to…Y/N?” he realised you hadn’t been paying attention, probably keen to get inside and celebrate. “Yeah, sorry, Um…” Ben didn’t hear what you said next, too busy trying to remember everything he wanted to tell you, “I was going to hold off until later but I don’t want to let something slip after a few drinks or anything like that. I can’t do this anymore. This whole thing was a mistake that I should never have agreed to and I need it to be over now.” He could see how confused you were, “You know they’re going to break us up in like a week, right?” “Yeah well, that’s too long to wait. I’m breaking us up now.” He kept talking, sure the shock of it would wear off and you’d agree with him once you’d heard it all, “And…I don’t think I can see you again, not for a while at least. I need some space to forget this ever happened. I, um, I start my new job in a few days so I think they’ll probably use that in the magazines to explain our breakup. And I don’t expect I’ll see you until after it’s finished. If then. So…good luck with that witch movie. Take care of yourself.” He didn’t want to hear you agree with him, didn’t want to hear you say it was for the best or that you were going to suggest the same thing or even a goodbye. So he pushed past you and followed the noise until he found the bar. As promised Alfie was there, with a few others, a shot glass in each hand. He handed one to Ben. “Where’d Y/N go?” “Oh, uh, loo. She’ll be here in a minute.” “Well here’s to a job well done and hopefully some fucking record breaking box office numbers,” “Cheers to that,” Ben clinked his glass against Alfie’s and downed the shot, hissing a little, “another?” “Read my mind,” Ben lost himself in conversation and drinks, chatting with those around him for a while before moving on to talk to more people. Beer in hand, he headed towards the side of the room where a couple of the other main cast were sitting. Claudia looked up as he approached, “Heya Ben! Where’s Y/N? I haven’t seen her all night,” It was only then that Ben realised he hadn’t seen you come in after he’d left you in the hallway. He glanced around in an attempt to spot you, a pang of worry shooting through him but then he stopped looking. She’s not yours to worry about anymore.

                                                      ***

Ben woke up with a minor hangover the day after the premiere. Maybe it was karma. Despite what he told himself, he’d kept an eye out for you all night, but never saw you and he was more than a little worried that it was because of what he’d said. It was tempting to call and ask where you’d gotten to but a quick glance at the clock told him you’d likely still be asleep anyway. Besides, he knew he shouldn’t. He’d told you he wasn’t going to see you again and he intended to stick to his word. Instead he sent a group message to his mates and invited them around for one last hang out before he left for Spain. The next call he made was to his mum. “Hi honey. How’d the premiere go? “It was really fun, movie looks good.” “How long before you fly out?” “Couple of days,” “Shame there’s not enough time for you and Y/N to come over for dinner,” “Yeah, um, about that… we broke up.” “What? Why?” “It just wasn’t working. Mutual decision, we both felt it had run its course but decided to keep it quiet until after the premiere. So, yeah, no dinner, even if I was going to be in the country.” “Oh, honey, are you okay?” “Yeah, fine. Like I said, we both knew it was coming so y’know, no hard feelings or anything.” “It’s a shame, she was so lovely,” “Yeah, well, sometimes things just don’t work the way you think they will.”

The boys arrived in the afternoon, bringing a mixture of snacks and a few beers with them. They settled in the living room to play video games. Ben liked the company. It was a good distraction. Or it would have been if talk hadn’t turned to you. “Bit surprised you wanted us here and not Y/N. Figured you’d spend your last days in the UK with her,” “Why would I when we broke up?” “You what? When?” Ben shrugged, “We broke up. Few days ago,” “Jesus man, I’m sorry,” “Don’t be, it’s fine. I dumped her.” “Yeah but you had to go to the premiere with her right? That’s rough,” “Was a bit but there was an open bar so I coped,” Ben laughed. “Might be time we got him back on the market then,” “What? We only broke up a couple of days ago,” “You’re clearly not too cut up about it,” “What the fuck would you know, you’ve been single for what is it, three years now?” “Well you didn’t tell us when it happened, and you never even told us when you got together. We found out through a magazine, so obviously you weren’t really that serious about her” “We were waiting until after all the movie stuff was done, and that’s bollocks.” “Excuses. Besides, getting someone new to suck you off is the best way to forget an ex. This is your phone right?” “Oi give that back,” There was a scuffle as Ben tried to grab his phone back but he was outnumbered and pinned down as the boys redownloaded his Bumble app and signed in for him, laughing about how he used the same password for everything. “She’s fit, give her a like,” “Oh I like her, might be a bit tall for you though Ben,” Ben rolled his eyes as he watched them swipe on profile after profile until they heard a noise that meant one of the girls had sent him a message. “There you go Ben, didn’t take long did it. You’ll forget all about that Y/N chick in no time,” Ben snatched his phone back, “You guys are such wankers,” “That’s not very nice considering we’ve just got you a new girl,” There was laughter and more teasing as controllers were passed around and the game was loaded. Ben closed the app, thumb hovering over it to delete it again. But maybe they were right. Maybe someone new would be good. He set the phone down again and turned his attention to the game.

                                                      ***

Spain was beautiful and having a new movie to work on was the perfect distraction, especially considering how many stunts, fight scenes, and action sequences were involved. It gave him a chance to meet more people in the industry, people he was excited to work with, and really focus on something other than you. The cast went out together frequently too, dinners at local restaurants, drinks in the hotel bar, getting lost in an unfamiliar city. There was no trace of you there, no reminders of date nights, nothing but work and a new country to explore. Occasionally he’d get a notification that a reporter or curious individual was trying to message him, asking questions about you and the split but he ignored them. Ben deleted the Bumble app too within the first few days, knowing he wouldn’t use it. There was no time, even if he’d wanted to hook up with anyone. He could always reinstall it once he was back home. Once he knew you were in the past. Because the problem was that at some point every night, Ben would get back to his hotel suite and be left alone again. For a while he’d be able to think about what scenes would be filmed the next day, maybe practice some fight choreography. But eventually he’d run out of distractions and then all that was left to think about was you. Peter had sent through the first articles that reported the breakup and since then he’d found himself wondering if you’d moved on yet, found someone else to date now that you were allowed to. He’d considered checking your Instagram account but had held off, knowing it was a step in the wrong direction. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know anyway. He hadn’t gotten over you enough yet to deal with photos of you and another man together.

 This night was much the same as the others had been. Everyone met up for dinner, followed by a couple of drinks and then headed back to the hotel to unwind. Ben decided to call it an early night. He’d spent a good part of the day hooked up to harnesses and wires, being flung at a wall over and over. He was sore and tired figured some extra rest would do him good. He was just settling into bed, trying to keep his mind on the TV show he’d put on when he heard the knock. He listened closely for a moment but it couldn’t be for him, he’d put up a do not disturb sign on his door, so he turned back to the TV and flicked to a different channel. Another knock. It definitely sounded like his door but who would it be? Maybe one of the other actors? But they’d all heard him say he was going to have an early night, so surely not. Again Ben ignored it. The third knock got Ben out of bed, stumbling to the light switch and then the door, ready to politely tell whoever it was to fuck off and let him rest. “Sorry but can you not see the do not dis- Y/N? What ar-” Ben was surprised. Surprised you knew where he was, surprised you’d come there after he’d told you he didn’t want to see you, surprised that you were covering his mouth to shut him up. “You wouldn’t reply to my texts and I didn’t know if you’d listen to any voicemails I left you but I have something I need to tell you so that’s why I’m here.” There was a beat as Ben waited to hear what could be so important that you’d come all the way to Spain to tell him. “I love you.” He gasped but your palm was still over his mouth so he couldn’t say anything. It had to be a joke, didn’t it? But you didn’t look like you were joking. He waited, listening as you explained everything. It was wonderful to know you felt the same but his shock didn’t lessen. He’d been so sure about everything. So sure about how little you’d felt for him, so sure you would have understood why he needed space. And now you were here telling him the exact opposite? It was unfathomable. Maybe it was a hallucination? Maybe he’d got a concussion when he hit the wall too hard earlier. Does concussion make you hallucinate? But blinking didn’t make you disappear and the hand against his mouth felt real enough. “I’ve missed you so much, so fucking much, and all I’ve wanted is to see you again and hear your voice and hug you and I’d really like to date you for real, or at least be friends again because not having you in my life is complete shit.” Ben felt tears prickling his eyes as he realised how backwards he’d had it. You loved him. You. Y/N. You loved him so much you’d flown to Spain just to tell him. “That’s all I had to say,” you said softly, pulling you hand away. Ben staired in disbelief for a moment but you looked as if you were fighting the urge to run for it and it brought him back to his senses. “Thank god,” it was all he could think to say as he reached out to hold you, pulling you tight against him and kissing you the way he’d wanted to kiss you for so long. Relief flooded his system when you kissed back. He didn’t have to forget you or force himself to move on. It had been an impossible task anyway. He was glad to stop trying.

 It’s only when someone makes a noise further down the corridor that he lets you go, asks if you planned to stay, lead you inside and towards the couch. There were things he needed to clear up first, before he could let himself be fully happy with the situation. He looks at you properly then. You look tired, worn out. He’s not sure if it’s from the late hour or the flight or because you’ve not been sleeping properly but it makes him feel guilty that he upset you. He hates that he pushed you away and wasted months trying to get rid of you when you’d both actually wanted the same thing, to be together. But you’re here now. He reached out to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, almost dizzy with joy that he could do that. “I’m really sorry for how I acted,” You smiled softly as you took a seat and Ben fell into the spot beside you, unable to take his eyes from you. He lets you lead the conversation, trying to sort out his mess of emotions as he explains himself. I thought if I told you I’d never been into you, acted like it, then I could make it true.” “Did it work?” “Of course not,” How could you ever think it would work? That he could just forget you so fast, after he’d fallen for you so hard? “Which is why I pushed you away.” You nodded, seemed to understand where he’d been coming from. He hesitated before reaching out to grab your hand again, a little afraid of touching you lest you turn to smoke and vanish. But you didn’t. He stifled a yawn, hoping you wouldn’t take it as his disinterest in the conversation. He’d stay up as long for as long as it took to go over everything, no matter how tired he was. “Has there been anyone else?” “Anyone else what?” “I saw a thing about you dating again,” That was surprising, not what he’d expected you to bring up. He hadn’t even realised it had been reported on. But he shook his head, explained about his friends encouraging him to move on. It seemed to satisfy you because you leant on his shoulder, let him hold you. He apologised when he yawned again, about to suggest he put a pot of coffee on so he could keep talking. But then you suggested going to bed and he had to agree.

 As soon as his head hit the pillow Ben knew he’d fall asleep fast. Even with the excitement of your arrival and the buzz of joy you brought. He kept his eyes on you. Everything seemed too good to be true. You grabbed his hand and placed it around you, shuffling as close as you could. “You’re actually here, yeah? I’m not just dreaming it?” Ben asked, voicing aloud his biggest worry. “I’m here Ben.” She’s here. In your bed. “Don’t leave, okay?” “I won’t.” She’s here and she’s staying. “I love you,” he needed to say it again, to make sure you knew that he still felt the same. “I love you too,” It was comforting to hear you say it again too, made his heart burst as he kissed you again. He didn’t want to stop but he was much to tired to do anything else. Still, he fought sleep for as long as he could. He’d lost so much time being apart from you that, now he had you back in his arms, sleep felt like a waste of precious hours. Hours he could spend kissing you, being with you, making sure you felt loved. He couldn’t fight it forever though, eventually had to give up. The last thing he saw before he shut his eyes was you, smiling at him, as you lay beside him.

                                                      ***

It had been a long day what with moving you into his house. Even after the boxes were inside and everyone who had been helping out had gone home, there was still a lot to do. Everything needed to be unpacked and put away. Ben had been clearing space on all his shelves and in all his cupboards to fit everything you’d brought with you. Plus there was new furniture from Ikea to unpack and construct. Like the chest of draws he’d been working on before he got up to stretch his legs and grab a glass of water. He caught sight of the magazines that had been left in the kitchen and, chuckling at their stories of marriage and babies, stacked them in a neat pile before he grabbed his drink. As he walked back through the living room he saw you, curled up on the floor beside the box you’d been working through. “Y/N?” Ben shook your shoulder to wake you, trying not to laugh as you blink at him groggily, still half asleep. “Alright, cuddle bunny, up you get. Time for bed, yeah?” “But the boxes,” you argued though it was unenthusiastic and slurred with sleep. “The boxes will be there tomorrow. C’mon, come with me,” Ben half carried you to the bedroom and helped you under the covers, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead before heading back to the draws he was halfway through building.

 By the time he was finished putting the draws together Ben was feeling fairly tired himself. He moved the spare screws off the floor so no one would step on them and then headed back to the bedroom. You were still there, sleeping soundly. Ben paused in the doorway to look at you. It was a sight he loved, you in his bed. The first time you stayed over and slept in his bed rather than the guest room had been a monumental occasion though the novelty of it had worn off a bit now, especially with how frequently you’d stayed at each other’s places before the move. But still, he’d never get sick of seeing you beside him, where you belonged. Same as he’d never get sick of making you tea or trying to convince you to eat an actual breakfast or making you laugh. It was in that moment, leaning against the doorway of the bedroom you now shared, one wall lined with boxes of your belongings yet to be put away, it was then that he knew he wanted to marry you. Have a family with you, spend his life with you. He’d go out and buy a ring once you were moved in properly, though he could hear his friends telling him to wait a little longer, see how everything was living with you first. But that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have to give it to you straight away after all. But he knew that was what he wanted with you. And now that you were together, after so much time and trouble, he never wanted to let you go.