#oh my god i fucking hate my teeth why can’t they just be NORMAL JESUS CHRIST

[milimeters-morales]

NO OMG I FUCKED UP ANOTHER TOOTH BC OF MY PEPPERMINTS AGAIN

[jupiterpiss]

SIGHHHHH

Roman Roy brain rot has me in a chokehold. SOMEONE HELP. I did a brief read through. This probably has a thousand grammar errors and stuff. this isn’t my best work. Sorry bout that. This is short. Might make this into something else.. idk. We’ll see. Sort of x reader.. but no use of “you” or anything. It’s a fem!reader btw!!

On one hand, Roman could name a few things he genuinely took an interest in. He couldn’t name them now, as his mind is always juggling fifty different thoughts, and he’s certain that if he were to try and focus on one he would have an aneurysm.

Though if he thinks hard enough the list goes something along the lines of “petty drama” as third or “the latest headlines about either him or his father” as second.

If he thinks harder, somewhere in there his father’s approval sits as fifth. Something he wishes was further down.

Then somewhere else, squeezed between his desperation to know what his father thought of him and what others thought of him, was her. As first. Or fourth. Right in the thick of it.

He thinks of it as a piece of popcorn lodged in the gaps of his teeth, something his tongue pokes and wiggles but can never slip out. He could use his fingers or a toothpick, metaphors for the obvious solution of just letting her go and moving on with his life, but he was never a fan of picking the easy way out.

“Aren’t you just gluttonous for punishment?” He scoffs at Kendall’s words now, pushing away the fact he was correct. Of course, he was. It was a fucking obvious thing.

It was exactly why he never strayed away from her.

Being hated wasn’t new for Roman, if anything, it was the ‘normal’. Being ‘nice’ didn’t get anyone far, at least that was the idea rammed into his head since childhood. It was why he never looked for anyone sickly sweet, never fell for someone who didn’t have some bite to their bark.

It was why he never bothered to tug loose the leash that was strung snug around his neck, tied neatly by the very woman he should’ve despised years ago.

He couldn’t though. Hate her, that was. He couldn’t. Physically, mentally, emotionally something inside him tug deep into his bones and ripped out any anger he could feel.

Whether it was possession or his inability to accept the fact he deserved better, something held him back. He didn’t really know, and in all honesty he didn’t really fucking care.

“You’re a sick pervert sometimes, you know that?” She tilts her head at him, brows furrowed as her eyes flicker between his. Seeking from something he isn't aware of, but is certain she’ll find.

She always did.

He smirks, “Maybe,” He shrugs, “Reason for everything,” her gaze only makes him nervous, forcing him to cast his gaze somewhere else.

“Right. Your pervy nature is just a part of something bigger,” she presses.

And just like wet clay under moist hands, he gives in, “something closer to a lawsuit than a ‘higher being’ nature sort of deal. Right? That’s what you always joke about?” She stays silent, he only continues, “fuck- Jesus, staring at me like my creepy pervert uncle-“

“Just trying to give you the ‘Roman Roy experience’ you always gift me,” she argues which only makes him sputter, “oh fuck off.”

“Can’t, you’ll only follow,” and god damn it, isn’t it just funny? Because he would follow, he would follow in a god damn heartbeat. Probably like a sad kicked puppy too. Fuck.

“Don’t you have some businessmen to jerk off? Someone to give the old ‘slip and slide’ too.”

He hopes for some sort of response, some small jab and maybe some banter that would fill the void of a conversation they never have.

But he doesn’t get that, he only gets the continued ‘creepy uncle stare’ as she peers into his wandering eyes. She’s still searching. It’s only when brow twitches and a pout forms on her lips that he realises she found what she was looking for.

“Right, something you’d only wish for,” She backs away from him, “Should really stop speaking your imagination out loud. People might get the wrong idea. Might think you actually want to fuck me,” she pauses, “But I highly doubt your rat dick can handle anything past your hand.”

She walks away, leaving him standing like an idiot.

Later that night he looks at engagement rings.

[stevesjockstrap]

kinktober day 11: Steve/Eddie

& biting/marking

read on ao3

MNDI - rated: E - cw: possessive behavior

It started with the licking. He’d be across the house or across town and he’d need to lick Steve. Now that he was his, he just needed to lick him. Randomly he’ll walk into Family Video just to run his tongue up Steve’s throat. Sometimes he didn’t stop the conversation he was having with Robin during it and he’d have to drag him into the back room. 

Then it turned into biting. Don’t ask him why, if it was cute aggression or possessiveness or just abject insanity.  The longer Steve was his, the less sense it made but he needed to sink his teeth into him. Or suck a mark into his skin. Something he could look at or press on later to prove they were both real and Steve was his.

He hadn’t gotten to see him at all today, Steve had to do inventory because Keith hates him and Wayne had needed his help with a project. 

“Jesus Christ, Eds-“ he hissed when he came up behind him to wrap his arms around him but also to sink his teeth into his neck. 

“Missed you too, babe,” he quipped when he’d stopped worrying his teeth in to make a nice impression there. 

“Missed you, but I didn’t maul you on sight.” Steve turned around in his arms to give him a normal hello kiss but Eddie took over and turned it ravenous. They were both panting when Steve finally pulled away. “Wow. You really missed me, huh?”

“Bedroom. Now.”

“Fuck!” Steve cried out as he thrust into him, and bit and sucked a mark onto his favorite spot on his neck. 

Eddie tried to hold back some of his internal monologue as he continued to pound into him and bit marks down to his chest. “All mine. So beautiful. You’re mine, Stevie. Gunna show everyone-“

Steve pulled his mouth to his and Eddie licked possessively into it. 

“Oh my god, Eds.” He gasped as he pulled away but kept him close, leaning their foreheads together. “Yours, babe. Oh- I can’t believe this whole thing with the biting has been you like, marking your territory.”

Eddie groaned and had to kiss him again. “Please don’t be mad, baby. I’ll stop, or- shit, don’t ask me to stop.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t want you to stop. Always want to be yours. I love when you mark me all up, Eds.” Steve looked up at him with his big eyes and his shy little smile and Eddie was done for. 

“I love marking you up, beautiful. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” He sucked a mark in the hollow of his throat while Steve writhed and rubbed his cock against their bellies. Eddie grabbed his hips hard enough to bruise and pulled him back and forth to meet his thrusts. “Come for me. C’mon. Holy shit. Stevie- ah!” His inner walls squeezing around him as he came wrung his own orgasm from him. 

Eddie rolled them to their sides and they met in a kiss, panting into each other’s mouths. Eddie finally pulled back to trace hands across all the marks he made across Steve’s body. 

“Look so good carrying all my marks, baby. So pretty. All mine.”

“Yours, Eds.”

Not in love with this one but @lighthousebeams wanted Eddie marking up Steve 🖤

[fandomficsnstuff]

Redemption For All - 8

(Warnings: fluff, fluff and some more fluff)

Notes: I do NOT speak spanish but I think it is a very beautiful language and sadly all I can say in spanish is ‘I can’t speak spanish’, so I used google translate, sorry. Some words are in Italic, which is the translated words, and others are just straight up spanish.

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

“I hate dresses.”

“It ain’t a dress, it’s a skirt-”

“Fine, then I hate skirts.”

“No, you don’t-”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you just ain’t found the right one yet.”

“I didn’t even wear a dress to my prom, Abby” Leah pointed out, Abigail frowning, making her look back at the magazine that was given to them “it’s a flashy event sort of thing for teenagers in school” she explained, Abigail humming quietly “well, maybe you ain’t found the dress that makes ya like dresses? Even back then-”

“And the shoes you have to wear with them for it all to ‘match’, God!”

“You can just wear your normal shoes, ain’t no one’s gonna mind” Abigail chuckled, Leah looking up at her, narrowing her eyes before humming, looking back at the pictures and available clothes with less tension in her shoulders, making Abigail smirk. “What ‘bout this one? I like the top that comes with it” Abigail pointed out, Leah studying the drawing before nodding ever so slightly, making Abigail grin “alright then, we can see if it fits? You don’t gotta buy it if ya don’t wanna” Abigail reminded her and Leah let out a shaky breath “god, this is stressful” she muttered, making Abigail chuckle “ain’t you cute. Alright, hey, mister. You got one of these in her size?” Abigail asked politely, the man sizing Leah up before nodding “I think so. I’ll leave it in the changing room, you can go on in and try it when you’re ready” he stated politely and left, Leah nodding to herself with a small nod. “Wait… fuck!”

“What is it??”

“If-... I haven’t-” she cut herself off, peeking around the corner before leaning in closer to Abigail “what if we kiss??”

“Then you’ll kiss.”

“B-But-... what if it goes-... further?”

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that. Arthur don’t care-”

“No, what I mean is-... I haven’t-... like… you know…?”

“What?”

“... ‘Trimmed the hedges’...” Leah whispered harshly through gritted teeth. She was sure her head was going to burst from humiliation and embarrassment, Abigail just blinking at her before her eyes widened, mouth a little open “oh… well… some men like it-”

“Jesus Christ-”

“You ain’t got nothin’ to panic over, if a guy really likes ya, he won’t care-”

“But I will! I’ll care! I-I’ll feel disgusting and unprepared and like I’m some kind of hermit and-”

“Room’s ready when you need it, miss.”

“Thank you” Leah’s entire tone changed as she forced a smile at the male clerk before looking mortified again, Abigail chuckling “relax, why don’t you try this on and see if you like it and if you do then we’re gonna buy you a bath at the hotel and you can go on and do what you wanna do ‘n get cleaned up. C’mon, Javier gave me some money for the dress ‘n a bath is only a few cents” Abigail comforted and Leah nodded to herself, looking slightly less mortified as she walked to the changing room. She began to take off her clothes, putting on the simpler pieces of clothing by herself before she froze when she looked at the corset. She poked her head out of the changing room, thinking herself in bloomers and a chemise with stockings to be decent enough as she looked towards the front of the store “uh, Abby?” she called, Abigail smiling at the male clerk before walking around the corner to the changing room, her eyes widening and she quickly looked around before hurrying towards her, ushering her into the changing room in a fit of suppressed laughter. “What?”

“You pokin’ your head out there like this?! You’re mighty confident! And for good reason! I mean, look at you! But I ain’t sure I’d have had the nerve to do that” she stated with utter amusement, Leah frowning, looking down at herself “what?”

“Nothin’, it’s just-... in this place and time, it’s a bit… revealin’” Abigail admitted and Leah blushed, eyes widening and Abigail chuckled “don’t worry, I made sure no one saw ya. Now, what do you need help with?”

“Uh… do I have to wear the corset?”

“Not if you don’t wanna, but we can put it on real loose, so it won’t squeeze ya to death” Abigail stated half-jokingly and Leah nodded with a blush “s-sure” she muttered, turning around as Abigail helped her lace the corset, keeping it loose but just tight enough to hold on to everything as it was supposed to do, aside from making the waist so small all organs would be up in her throat, the shoulder straps of the corset, which she realized were more like a vest now that she was wearing it, were comfortable and not as horrible as they looked, they didn’t dig into her armpits, instead resting against them while lifting her breasts in what she thought was a very attractive way. Abigail helped her put on the sort of chemise tank top-ish long shirt, the straps of the chemise aligned with the ones of the corset-vest she wore. Then, apparently, came the top, which made it four layers, but luckily the two chemises and the vest-corset didn’t feel warm at all. The top was a soft-looking, pearl white piece of fabric with the same straps as the corset and her chemises, which meant that it’d all line up perfectly and wouldn’t look mismatched. Underneath she had white stockings that went up to her knees, Abigail securing them with a small lace rope just under her knee, tying a little bow under them to hold them up. Then came the first skirt. Abigail helped Leah put on a light, loose skirt that could easily be worn in the hot, clammy air of Lemoyne; it was made of cotton and felt thin, just like the first chemise that was under the corset-vest thing. Then, another skirt came over it, a little thicker than the first, a sweet dark salmon color. It was breezy despite it being a little thicker than the first layer. Finally, she stepped back to admire her work, a grin on her lips as her hands were on her hips “you look mighty fine, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so” she complimented and turned Leah to the full body length mirror.

Leah smiled a little at what she saw, gently grabbing the sides of her skirt as she tilted from one side to another to watch the skirts sway a little, just briefly and subtly, but Abigail smiled at the cute act “I’m guessin’ you don’t mind dresses ‘n skirts now?”

“Most definitely not” Leah admitted, Abigail nodding as she laughed “alright, I’ll go on ‘n pay for it while you’re starin’ at yourself in the mirror” she teased before leaving the changing room, Leah walking out soon after, her old clothes in her arms and the male clerk reached for them but Leah moved away a little, frowning. “It’s alright, I got it” Abigail stated with a soft smile, taking the clothes and Leah gave an apologetic smile to the male clerk who nodded in return. “You look mighty fine, miss, that fella yous was talkin’ ‘bout, if he don’t see it, I’m single” he joked, Leah chuckled lightly as she was on her way out of the door, behind Abigail “I’ll most certainly think about it, I promise” she joked back, the man chuckling in amusement and Leah walked out after Abigail. “He was nice-”

“Well, hello there, what’ve we got here?” a voice asked, both of them turning to see Uncle walk over to them, stumbling a little “I ain’t never seen you lookin’ like that, Doc!” he exclaimed, Leah blushing as she smiled “thanks- at least, I hope it was a compliment?”

“‘Course it was! If it weren’t for my lumbago-”

“Alright alright, uncle” Abigail interrupted with a smirk “why don’t you go on back to camp, I hear there’s a party happenin’ later” Abigail admitted, Uncle seeming to light up at this “well, then you two fine ladies know where to find me” he tipped his hat and saddled up on his horse, riding off as Leah and Abigail chuckled lightly with each other. “Alright now, I’ll order the bath, I’ll be outside by the wagon with your old clothes, I’m thinkin’ you might want ‘em back at some point?”

“Yes, please.”

“You need any help taking anything off and on?”

“I think I’m good-”

“There’s a wash girl who’ll come knockin’, I’m sure she’ll help you” Abigail stated with a soft smile, walking inside, paying for the bath before walking back outside, Leah giving her a small wave as the man went off. He soon returned, walking up to Leah with a smile under his bushy mustache and sideburns “alright now, miss, the bath’s ready. I heard somethin’ ‘bout needin’ some help with gettin’ dressed later on? We got a real nice bath girl named Beth if ya need ‘er.”

“Uhm, I’ll call if I need help, would that be okay?”

“Sure thing, miss. The bath’s right this way” he led her down a small hallway to a room, opening the door for her and she smiled “thank you.”

“My pleasure. Now, there’s the bath ‘n all that. We don’t get many, uh… customers of the fairer sex to get a bath here, but I think we got some, uh, pomade ��n… maybe some perfumed soap-”

“It’s alright, thank you” Leah stated and he nodded “right, just-... holler if you need somethin’, miss” he stated and left, closing the door behind him and Leah took in the steamy room, the giant (in her opinion) brass tub. She got undressed, struggling a little with the corset-vest but she got it off, leaving her just a tiny bit proud, it was only a little harder than a bra… okay maybe more than a little, but still. She tied up her hair using the lace ribbons that had been under her knees to hold up her stockings to keep it from getting wet and then she got into the bath, at first hissing at the heat before she instantly felt her muscles relax, her eyes closing, her body covered in the hot water and suds. She flinched when there was a knock on the door, thinking it must be Abigail or something.

“Y-yeah?”

“Hi there, my name’s Bethany, do you need any help there?”

“Oh-... u-uhm, no thanks, I’m already in the water… and I’m a woman…?”

“I know, I ain’t gonna try nothin’. I can help ya wash your hair if you want?”

“Uhm… sure…?” There was a small silence before a woman walked inside, carrying a small bucket with water and a soap bar. “Hi there. I ain’t seen you around here before, how are ya?”

“Uhm… fine…”

“You sure? You ain’t lookin’ too good…”

“I’m fine, it’s just-”

“Your first time bathin’ out?” she asked with a soft smile after closing the door, Leah nodding hesitantly, looking away from her and Bethany smiled “don’t you worry ‘bout that, I’ll take good care of you, promise. Want me to undo your hair or do you wanna do that yourself?” she asked politely, Leah sitting up a little straighter in the tub, her hands wet as she lifted them, untying her hair, the tips of it so long that it floated in the tub, originally reaching around her mid-back. “Alrighty then. You mind if I sit behind you?”

“No…”

“Alright” she grabbed a stool and did as she said she would, sitting behind Leah, gently guiding her to lay back against the tub, carefully taking Leah’s long hair out and over the edge so it hung in front of her, the bucket with water and a soap bar resting on the floor under Leah’s hair. “Where are you from, if I might ask?”

“Uh, Washington… I mean I-I grew up in Texas until I was like twelve but then we moved to Washington where I was born.”

“You been livin’ there your whole life?”

“Sort of, I uh, lived in Chicago for a while, though. Actually, for the last ten years or so…”

“So, you’re a city girl. What brings you to our little charmin’ town?” the casual chatter was nice as Leah felt her hair being slowly and gently washed, her eyes almost closing in bliss “uh, traveling… with friends.”

“Sounds nice. Ain’t it different bein’ outside of the big cities?”

“It is, but in a good kind of way. Cities are so noisy and all the pollution just-... chokes you” Leah admitted, her entire body relaxing as Bethany began to massage her scalp. “I can imagine. I once went to Saint Denis, I ain’t rightly sure my lungs are clear yet and it was two months ago for my sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, what’s your sister’s name?”

“Tina. She’s a few years older than me, looks as pretty and innocent as a daisy but she’s sharp alright” Bethany chuckled, making Leah smiled “sounds nice… having siblings…”

“You an only child?”

“Yeah, mom died when I was young and dad never remarried, so…” she trailed off, Bethany sighing softly “I’m sorry ‘bout that. What were your parents like?”

“Kind… my dad sometimes took me hunting, but it was really more just camping and learning how to hold a gun. Though he didn’t let me hunt with it, he knew mom would kill him if she found out that I’d shot it at anything but cans and bottles” Leah admitted with a chuckle, Bethany chuckling along with her as she washed the soap from Leah’s hair. “You got mighty fine hair if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“Oh-... thanks.”

“It’s long, too.”

“Yeah, I uh… I haven’t had it untied in months now, except for maybe once or twice to redo it, I hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten” Leah admitted sheepishly, Bethany nodding a little as she hummed in response, making sure all the soap was out of Leah’s hair before carefully wringing the water from it as much as possible before grabbing the bucket with water and soap, getting up from the stool after pecking Leah’s wet head, right at her hairline “alrighty then, I think I’m done here. Just holler if you need somethin’ else” she stated, Leah giving her a soft smile and a nod “thank you.”

“No problem, you enjoy your bath” she called, about to close the door after her when Leah sat up abruptly “uh, Bethany?”

“Mhm?”

“Uhm…” seeing Leah’s hesitance, Bethany walked back into the room and closed the door behind her, Leah blushing a little “uhm… I-I’m sort of going to a party later and-... there’s a guy and I’m not saying anything is going to happen but if-... and I don’t have anything to, uhm…”

“You mean shavin’?” she asked softly in a low yet audible voice, Leah nodding shakily and Bethany smiled “don’t you worry ‘bout that, I’ll bring a shavin’ kit for ya” she stated and Leah let out a brief breath of relief. At least that would be something she knew what to do with. She knew it’d probably be an old shaving razor and not a razor blade like the ones she was used to, but she’d seen those be used even back home, she could do it.

[hes-writer]

Under the Table

Summary: harry eats y/n out under the table

Warnings: smut, public sex, oral, female receiving

Word Count: 2744 words

A/N: my submission to the 'sex bucket list fic challenge' hosted by @berrynarrybanana !! so many wonderful writers have participated in this and their works are out of this world ✨

___

Y/N had never been to this restaurant. The fanciness and seemingly high-end decorations should be enough explanation as to why. She stared at Harry in complete adoration as he touched the small of her back, gently pushing her forward to follow the waiter. They walked near the back of the restaurant. The waiter unlocked a door, gesturing for them to enter.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes to get your order,’ He placed the menus on the mahogany table. The round furniture draped with black cloth, accentuating the starch white plates and crystal silverware. A bottle of wine stood to the right, candles lit in the middle of the table. They nodded at his statement.

“Gosh, H. This must be so expensive,” She glanced around the room in amazement, dazzling lights reflecting in her irises. He pulled her chair out for her like a proper gentleman.  She smiled in appreciation.

“Only the best for my girl,” He planted a kiss to her temple, settling himself on his seat. Harry tried his best to focus on reading the description of each dish but Y/N was more interesting. Her hair curtained as she faced down to read the menu. She bit her lip in thought, her stomach growling in anticipation.

“Think ‘m gonna get the steak with mash,” She stated, folding the menu closed. Harry immediately glanced down to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at her beauty, imagining dirty thoughts. Her thighs parted around his head. Her juices dripping past her clenching hole, looking for something thick and big to fill her.

“I’ll get the same but with a side of peas,"

“Copy cat,” She teased, filling her glass with white wine. The stain of her lipstick on the rim made him absolutely mad.

___

“What’s gotten into you? Aren’t you hungry?” Y/N asked, slicing her steak, popping a bite in her mouth. She moaned at the taste, releasing a satisfied moan and even letting her eyes roll a little. “It’s so good,”

Harry dug his blunt fingernails on his outer thighs to prevent himself from gripping her hair and fucking her into oblivion. She had no clue of her effect on him. Y/N raised a brow at him, utensils paused to wait for his answer. He glanced at his plate, clearly untouched except for the small spoonfuls he scooped of his peas. “I am,”

“Why aren’t you eating then?” She questioned, easing another forkful in her mouth.

“‘M hungry for somethin’ else,” He drawled out, suggestiveness dripping from his tongue. His lustful gaze eyeing the pucker of her lips.

She widened her eyes, freezing at his statement. “We’re in public!”

He shrugged, gesturing to the private room he had booked for them that surely was about to be handy. “And? Y’can’t tell me you don't want my head between your thighs,” He leaned back against his seat, one arm resting on the opaque table cloth draped over the table. “That you don’t want my tongue licking your cunt,” He bit his lip, watching her take a sip of her wine nervously.

“Stop it, Harry,” The waver of her voice indicated to Harry that she was being affected. Her thighs squeezing tightly for the slightest bit of friction against her core. She tucked a strand of hair, shifting uncomfortably at the growing wetness. The fabric of her satin red dress suddenly feeling too heavy on her skin. Warmth crawling up her legs despite the shortness of her dress. Despite the exposure of her cleavage from the deep cut, she couldn’t help but feel completely naked under Harry’s scrutiny.

“Don’t you?”

She heaved a deep breath, stabbing her steak in frustration for letting his words affect her so much. “No, I don’t.” She gritted her teeth, hating the way his dimple deepened with the curve of his lips upward.

“That’s a lie,” He pushed his elbows forward, making her instinctively rest her back against the seat in intimidation. “I know you’re squeezin’ your thighs right now. Wanting to feel something touch your pussy. Bet you’re wet, soaking your panties,” His tongue darted out to lick his lips, glistening his mouth and making it almost impossible not to kiss him. “Want me to go on?”

Her utensils clanged against the plate. A shot of arousal flooding her body. If she focused, she was sure that she could feel the moisture on the apex of her thighs. She wondered if it would be a good idea to tell Harry that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath her scarlet dress.

“I-I,” She stuttered, “I’m not wearing anything underneath,” Her whisper was attentive as if there was an ear pressed up against the door.

“Jesus, fuck,” He seethed through his teeth, rolling his head back at the thought of her dripping on the chair. The stain of her slickness flooding between her thighs. It was enough to make his mouth water, “You’re making it hard not to drop on my knees right now,”

As much as she wanted his lips around her clit, tongue prodding between her slit; Y/N knew that this wasn’t the place to do it. She failed to stay quiet when his mouth attached to her core. He was way too good at eating her pussy. Feverishly mouthing her wet skin into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Groaning in pleasure like seeing her eyes closed in pure bliss was bringing him satisfaction. “Don’t,’

He tilted his head, saying in a mocking tone, “No?”

She shook her head, watching as he disappeared under the cloth, “What the hell is he doing?” Y/N mumbled to herself. The opaque table cloth prevented her from seeing him.  Harry crawled underneath the table, the light from the room seeping through the cloth, allowing him a great view of Y/N’s shaking legs, bouncing up and down.

“H-Harry,” His warm palms pushed her legs apart, her scent engulfing his senses. She gripped the corners of the table, keeping her eyes glued on the door directly facing her. “Nghh,” She moaned, extremely turned on, throwing caution in the wind.

He pushed her dress up, bunching the silky fabric on the tops of her thighs. Y/N was grateful that the table cloth was long. Harry pulled on her hips, asking her to move closer to the edge of the chair. He spread her thighs further, creating a little nook for himself between her legs. He nipped at the plush skin, making Y/N straighten her back.

“Oh my god,” She whispered. Mixed feelings swirled in her; the rush of being eaten out under the table in a private yet public place spiking her arousal. He gripped her calf, placing her legs over his shoulder for a better position. She tried to appear as normal as possible; not like her boyfriend was about to grace her with his talented tongue. He fisted the fabric of her dress to get it out of the way, balancing her as he traced the tip of his tongue against her slit.

“No fuckin’ panties. Tryna kill me, I swear it,” Harry growled lowly. Y/N sucked her lips into her mouth, eyeing the hinge of the door. A knock sounded from outside, the waiter probably checking in on them. He lifted the table cloth to meet her frantic eyes, “Try to stay quiet for me, yeah?”

The door opened less than a second later. The waiter entering with a tray of wine for a replacement of their empty one. “Hello there, where’s your date?“ A friendly smile directed to her.

Y/N nodded in response, a tight-lipped smile was returned, “In the bathroom,” She inconspicuously reached down to tug on Harry’s hair, warning him to not do anything. Of course, he didn’t listen.

“I’ve brought our finest selection of wine,” The waiter’s gloved hands gestured at the bottles, proceeding to explain each wine’s flavour and history. Y/N tried her best to appear present despite Harry’s warm tongue flattening to lick her deeper. Languid licks stroking her wetness from her fluttering hole to her sensitive clit, depositing the wetness under the hood. His plump lips puckering around her nub. He sucked softly, trilling his tongue.

“Which one would you like?”

Y/N’s lulled eyes snapped open, “The second one,” The waiter nodded, turning his back to uncork the bottle open. Y/N took the distraction to wet her dry lips, Harry peeking a slit from the cloth to stare at her throat bobbing as she stared at the ceiling. He smirked at the sight, dropping it to get back to work. His fingers dug on the skin of her ass planted on the chair. Heavy breathing filtering through his nose and hitting her mound as he stretched his lips to fit her whole pussy in his mouth. Y/N couldn’t help but release a whimper at the sensation.

“What was that?” The waiter turned around pouring the wine in hers and Harry’s empty glass. Harry bit her thigh as a warning to stay fucking quiet.

“Just...can’t wait to taste it,”

“Is there anything else you need?”

Y/N shook head immediately, “No, you can leave now,” Barely holding on to the moan she wanted to release. The door closed shut, exhaling a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, Har,”

“Great job, baby. I can’t wait to taste it too,” Harry tightened his wet muscle, firming the tip and using it to outline circles around her entrance. He traced the rim of her opening, gathering all the sweet juices that he had yet to savour, humming low in his throat as he swallowed it down. Groaning heavily against her core, his nose pressing into her clit in added stimulation. She wanted to scream. Her throat ached to yell out his name instead of being forced to experience this much pleasure without an outlet. Y/N wanted to see his face but she was too fucked out to reach over and hold the cloth. The mystery of not knowing his next actions heightening her anticipation, clenching her stomach with the unknown sensations. She balled her hands into a fist, slamming them against the table that had Harry chuckling

He curled his tongue inside of her, feeling each groove of her core, slicing each wall with an intimate stroke of his tongue. He dropped his legs from his shoulders. She just about shrieked when Y/N felt his middle and ring finger prodding her tight hole, petting her slit as he kissed around her body. She felt frustrated at him for taking away his tongue. She felt absolutely insane and out of control when his fingers plunged into nudge at her swollen g-spot, tapping his tongue rapidly against her button, “You’re so good to me,” She sighed, allowing her body to slouch, her thighs shaking with his abuse. She was sure that the waiter won’t be entering for a while.

“Taste so good for me,” He muttered in response, moaning at the way a clear, thick liquid attached to his bottom lip. He swiped his tongue to break the string, savouring her taste. His fingers curled up, jolting her hips along with the wave of pleasure he was providing her. Silent whimpers littered her mouth, desperate pleas of his name escaping her lips in breathy gasps. Her hand grabbed the back of his head, encouraging him to continue his actions.

Harry made out with her pussy--a full lip-smacking, tongue grazing session with his fingers toying inside of her. He pulled his fingers out of her. She hissed in response, mumbling quiet begs.

“What was that?” He asked arrogantly, instructing her to hold the cloth so that they could see each other. “Want somethin’ from me? Tell me what,”

Sweat dripped on her chest, slipping under her dress. Her eyes clenched shut as she tried to collect her heaving pants into a calm breath, “I want your tongue on me and your fingers,”

“You want my tongue, honey?”

She whined at the nickname, pushing her hips up to feel something. Anything. She was so desperate to cum that she nearly forgot where they were. Her half-eaten dinner was cold from being untouched. The meal was probably in the hundredths yet the only thing she cared about was coming undone.

“Yes, please,”

He granted her wish to stick his tongue further in her pussy until a pull at the back of his throat prevented him. He explored her center with ominous hunger, cheeks wet with spit and arousal. He pressed his face closer, a newfound determination to make her cum right under his nose. Strong strokes of his tongue planing up her nerves almost to the point of pleasurable pain. The harshness of his licks splitting her pussy around his tongue. His mouth pulled her clit, harshly sucking at the nub until it popped from his mouth. Leaning into taking it into his mouth again, humming low in his throat to push her further over the edge. Watching the engorged bundle of nerves redden with his deep sucks and trilling licks. He shook his head, dipping the tip of his tongue into her core, letting his movement prod her walls.

“C’mon, puppy. Cum for me,”

She sobbed feeling the electricity sparking. The coiling spring in her stomach tightening to the point that she could feel the heat radiating from her body. The chilling in her spine buzzed with each flick of his muscle stroking her up and down. Tiny pricks of pins and needles flickered her bum, the rough movements of her hips rubbing her ass against the coarse seat. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, white noise filling her ears. She hadn’t had the sound mind to muffle noises with her palm, leaving every cry she had to release in the open air. Luckily, Harry snaked his arm to cover her mouth just as she heaved a tortured sob. His palm getting wet with tears that exuded from her strained eyes from the force of her orgasm exploding from her center to the rest of her body.

Her fingers twitched with the need to ground herself. Toes curled in her high heels while Harry continued to prolong her orgasm with slick rubs to her clit. His fingers spreading to squeeze the nerve in between, catching the nub at its most heightened sensitivity until she had to push him away, using the tip of her heel to nudge at his torso.

Harry slipped out from under the table, knees cracking from being bent for too long. He stretched his arms over his head. He used his napkin to wipe his dripping fingers, sipping his wine while Y/N panted tiredly.

“You’re insane. I can’t believe you did that,”

He rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you almost got us caught,” He inspected the questionable stains on his maroon velvet suit, clicking his tongue as if to say ‘oh well’.

“You’re the one who kept going!” Y/N defended, crossing her arms over her chest. She stood up on shaky legs to give him a hug, burying her face in his chest. “Next time, it’s going to be you,”

Harry pushed her back by her shoulders, “Me? What do you mean?” Y/N swatted his chest in annoyance. As if he didn’t know what she meant.

She glazed her eyes over with innocence, a pout on her lips, “I dunno. Might just duck under the table and lick your cock. Maybe even suck the tip. You know how much I love your taste,”

He tensed in her arms, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “You wouldn’t,” He chuckled in denial, knowing full well that she wasn’t the type to do something as dirty as that.

“No?” She mirrored Harry’s words from earlier, tilting her head to the side. “But I wanna watch you squirm in front of everyone. Wanna feel your big cock deep in my throat and they’d have no idea that you’re letting your little girl suck you off under the table,”

The hardness in his pants nudged her lower stomach, forming a discernible bulge in his black trousers. He was not only a narcissist. Harry wasn’t one to shy away from exploring his sex life with Y/N, wanting to do anything and everything with her.  Uncomfortable blurts of precum soaking his boxers at the thought of having to act as if he wasn’t quite literally getting his dick sucked by Y/N’s heavenly mouth.

He can’t wait for their next date.

____

do y’all wanna see what happens on their next date 👀

____

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[elliesguitarstrings]

Silence (Part 1/Prologue)

Peter Parker x stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way... at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This is my first ever post so idk how many people will see it but if you do feel free to send in any requests for Tom Holland or any of his characters and tell me if you like this story - part 2 coming soon!

Warnings: language, awkwardness, a little bit of fluff

italics mean flashbacks

~~~~~~~~

Today was a special day. Well, to you that is. To everyone else, it was just a normal Saturday. But to you, and hopefully to Peter too, it was special.

Today marks one year of you and Peter first meeting. One year since he walked through the glass elevator doors of the Avengers Compound. One year since you met your best friend. You remember it like it was yesterday.

Waking you up from a deep sleep, you hear a loud knock on your door, one you recognized only to be your dad’s.

He opens the door and peeks his head in.

“Hey, get up and come into the living room. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Barely awake, you respond, “No, let me sleep. It’s too early for this shit.”

“Watch your language young lady! Now get your ass out of bed and be out in ten minutes.”

He walks away, not even bothering to close the door.

You groan into your pillow and proceed to throw it across the room as you reluctantly get out of bed.

Lately you’ve been fed up with everyone in the compound, and you’re taking out all your anger on them. But what else are you supposed to do? Everyone treats you like a kid, but they still expect you to act like an adult. They don’t let you go on missions, but they still make you train. They don’t let you go to actual school, but they make you study twice as hard. Everyone is just so hard on you, especially your dad, and you’re fucking done with it.

You walk into the bathroom and pull your hair up into a quick ponytail, not bothering to brush your mess of hair. Hastily, you brush your teeth and splash some water on your face in an attempt to make yourself look somewhat alive, but the dark circles are still extremely noticeable. You walk back into your bedroom and think about changing out of your hoodie and shorts, but you decide against it. You look halfway decent, and whoever it is that your dad wants you to meet certainly can’t be so important that you have to change into something nice.

After a quick look in the mirror, you slowly make your way into the living room, dreading the coming interaction with another one of your dad’s boring co-workers.

However, when you look up and see a teenage boy sitting next to your dad on the sofa, your mood changes.

Your dad stands up and turns to you, gesturing at the boy.

“Y/N, this is Peter Parker, Spiderman, whatever you want to call him. He’s the newest addition to the team, and he’s moving into the compound in a few days. He’s the same age as you, so I thought you should show him around. So be nice.”

Peter blushes and smiles, giving you a small wave.

Suddenly you regret not changing.

He’s cute. So fucking cute. He has fluffy brown hair, brown puppy dog eyes, the cutest smile, and he’s your age. Your age. Everything about him is perfect.

Realizing that you have been staring for probably a little to long, you speak up.

“Um, hi Peter, I’m Y/N. Uh, it’s- it’s nice to have you here. Sorry I look like shit.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Peter responds, just as awkwardly as you.

“You don’t look like shit by the way,” he adds, “you look pretty.”

You smile, about to say thank you when your dad interrupts.

“Well, that was really fucking awkward, but I think you two are going to get along just fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it then, see ya around.”

He winks at you as he leaves to go to his lab, and you roll your eyes in return, mentally hitting yourself at how embarrassing this whole interaction has been so far.

You turn to Peter, “So, uh, why don’t I show you around and you can meet everyone.”

“Sounds good to me!” he smiles.

You start in the kitchen and show him around the compound: the movie room, the game room, the pool, the sun room, the training room, the labs, and the bedrooms, introducing him to all of the Avengers along the way. Finally, you stop at the largest spare bedroom, which happens to be right across from yours.

“This is probably gonna be your room. No one really uses it right now but since it’s the biggest one I thought you might want it.”

“Oh, um, thanks, but even the smallest room here is like ten times bigger than my room, so I’d be happy with anything. But since it’s across from you, I’ll take it.”

You blush, not sure if he’s flirting with you or just trying to be nice. Either way, it’s not helping your already developing crush on him.

“So, um, that’s the tour I guess. What do you want to do now?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t want to leave so you can spend more time with him.

“Well Happy isn’t taking me back home until three, so we still have a few hours to do whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Do you just want to hang out in my room? Maybe watch a movie?”

“Sure! Sounds great!”

The two of you walk across the hall to your room and you open the door, regretting again your poor choice to not clean up this morning. Your bed was a mess, your clothes were strewn everywhere, and your desk was piled high with papers and books.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, my room is such a mess.” you exclaim, rushing to push your clothes in the corner and hastily pull your covers up in a sad attempt to make the bed.

Peter smiles and laughs, “Don’t worry, if you think this is messy, you should see my room. This is nothing.”

You laugh as well, sitting down on your bed and grabbing the TV remote. You pat your bed, motioning for Peter to sit down next to you.

“Y- you want me to sit next to you? Like on your bed?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Oh, um, yeah. But only if you want. You can sit on the beanbag chair over there instead, I guess. I just thought the bed would be more comfortable. And you would be able to see the TV better.”

“Oh, um, ok. That’s fine.”

He makes his way over to your bed and sits next to you, and you silently turn on the TV, starting to overthink everything.

There was a boy. On. Your. Bed. You weren’t doing anything, but still. You suddenly realized how little interaction you’ve had with people your age. Even girls. You didn’t go to school, so you only hung out with the Avengers. The closest person to your age was Wanda, and even she was a lot older than you.

‘Am I being too forward?’ you started to think to yourself. ‘Should I have not asked him to sit on my bed? What is he thinking right now? Oh my god, this is so bad. He probably thinks I’m so weird. He probably hates me. Fuck.’

When you see him looking in your direction, you decide to stuff the thoughts in the back of your head and try to act as normal as possible.

“So, what should we watch?” you ask.

“Um, do you, uh... do you like Star Wars?”

“Are you kidding me? I LOVE Star Wars!” you exclaim, the tension and awkwardness easing slightly.

“Really? My favorite is A New Hope.”

“No shit! Mine too!”

“Then A New Hope it is I guess!”

You turn on the movie, smiling, and you notice that he scoots a little closer to you, seemingly more comfortable.

A few minutes into the movie, Peter breaks the silence between you two and asks, “So what’s it like living with the Avengers?”

“Oh,” you look away from the TV, “it’s cool I guess. But after a while it’s gotten pretty boring. And really frustrating.”

“Frustrating? Why?”

“It’s just, well, they treat me like a kid all the time. And before you say it, yes, I know I am a kid, but it’s still annoying. There’s no one here even close to my age, I mean fuck, Thor’s like 1500 years old. And none of them know how to talk to me. They act like I’m a toddler even though I’m literally sixteen and they never let me go on missions with them, because they don’t think I’m ready even though I’ve been training since I was like ten – “

You cut yourself off, realizing you’ve been ranting for probably a little too long.

“Sorry about that,” you mumble. “It’s just that I haven’t really had anyone to talk to about this.”

“No! Don’t be sorry. That fucking sucks. Not gonna lie, you’re kinda making me regret moving here if that’s how everyone’s gonna treat me,” he laughs.

“They’re not gonna treat you like that.”

“Why wouldn’t they? I’m the same age as you.”

“Because. You’re a fucking superhero. They don’t give a fuck about your age if you can climb walls and shoot spider webs out of your hands.”

“Well, even if they don’t treat me like a kid then I’ll still back you up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and smiles. You blush and smile back.

“Thanks”

“Of course.”

He scoots even closer to you so that your shoulders are barely touching. If this had happened five minutes earlier, you would be freaking out. But now, something is different. You aren’t sure what, but you suddenly feel more calm and comfortable with him around.

You finish the rest of the movie in silence, and you realize you let your head fall onto his shoulder. You were scared he would push your head away, but he didn’t care.

“You awake?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night and my dad woke me up early, well, to meet you.”

He smiles down at you, and suddenly your dad bursts through the door. You scramble to sit up, lifting your head off Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey kid, Happy’s here to – oh?” He stares at the two of you sitting next to each other in your bed, both blushing. “Jesus, you’ve only just met and you already slept together? At least tell me you used protection.”

“DAD, OH MY GOD, NO!” you exclaim, blushing even harder now.

“Mr. Stark, I promise. We- we were just watching a movie. Nothing happened!” Peter assures him.

“Sure, sure,” your dad winks at the two of you.

“Dad, seriously. Nothing happened!” you groan in frustration.

“Whatever. Anyways, Happy’s here to take you back to Queens Pete. Be down in five.” He leaves the room.

“God, that was fucking embarrassing,” Peter laughs getting up from the bed.

“That’s my dad for you.”

You both walk to the door, and before you leave the room, you give him a small hug.

“I’m glad you’re moving in, Peter.”

“Me too,” he smiles, “Friends?”

“Definitely.”

You smile thinking back on the memory. After that day, you and Peter have spent almost every hour of every day together. You’re rarely ever apart, even at night. You sleep with him in his bed, and he sleeps with you in yours. The rest of the team bugs the two of you to get together, but you both agree that you are just friends.  Best friends cuddle with each other and kiss each other’s foreheads and play with each other’s hair, right?

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ Going Underground - Edited Version. Part 3.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC) Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c​

Zero to Six ~ Part 1. Edited Version. Materlist. ​

​​

It was exactly one month after Zero had last seen One in her flat, she had flown back home two days after the incident and hadn’t heard from him since. Apart from tickets emailed to her for Las Vegas and a hotel room that she assumed was where their next mission was going to be. 

She’d flown out to Vegas a few days back, part of her was glad that she hadn’t had to converse with him. She was still incredibly upset that just the thought of hearing his voice nearly put her into a fit of rage. She kept all contact to a minimum while throwing herself fully into her research, she’d only kept in regular contact with Three and Five, although Four would randomly drop in to annoy her. 

She’d woken up at about 10am, she hopped out of bed only for the purpose of making food. Once the pancakes had finished cooking she hopped back into the comfort of her bed and opened her laptop, she went back and forth eating and doing research. The next time she found herself looking at the clock it was 12:30pm, it took all of her will power to drag herself back out of bed to put her plate and utensils in the dishwasher and then into the bathroom for a shower. When she reemerged from the steaming room she was greeted by the ding that signalled she had a email. 

She opened it and the first thing that caught her attention was that it was from One. Sighing she knew that she couldn’t ignore it, for it might have been something really important. 

‘Meet me at the Golden Cafe down the street at 17:00 sharp, make sure to wear something that won’t draw attention to you. Wear a black cap.  P.s Remember don’t say anything the others about this. -One.’

‘Don’t wear anything that will draw attention to you.’ who the hell did One think she was? She really had to calm herself down before she went to meet him. If this meeting was going to go well, she would have to have a level head around him.

“Ah Zero, you’re online. To be fair I should have guessed as you’re always online.” She slightly jumped as Fours deep voice burst through the speakers. 

“Jesus Four.” She put a hand over her heart to calm herself down. 

He started to laugh. “Did I startle you darling?” She huffed and plopped down on the bed next to her laptop so she could connect the earpiece and speak to him properly. 

“No, I just wasn’t concentrating fully that’s all.” She glanced at the time again, It was still early she furrowed her brow confused. “What are you doing up so early anyway? I thought you always stayed up late doing dodgy stuff on the internet?” 

He just scoffed at her in disbelief. “Excuse me darling, but who do you take me for?” 

“She’s not wrong though is she? I think I’ve accidentally walked in on you enough times to say that, that is the truth.” Two chimed in, to which Four immediately started up his defence. 

Zero just laid back in her bed and basked in the happiness that was, to her a family argument. 

Four had the last word though. “Oh shut up Two! I bet you’ve seen worse, Wait a second How do you know what I’m doing on a night?” 

Zero all but gasped. “Is that a confession Four? And I might have to carry out routine security checks on the bases internet. Which means looking through some of your histories.” 

“Jesus woman.” 

She couldn’t help but giggle at how worried Four sounded, knowing that she could see everything he searched on the internet. “Look I’m just doing my job, I’m just keeping everyone safe.” 

“But you’re basically stalking me.” Four hissed. 

Zero clicked her tongue. “Did you not hear me sweetie? I HAVE to look into your history for security reasons. Don’t get all shy on me now Four, plus your history isn’t even the spiciest.” 

“So who’s the worst then?” 

She laughed, like she was going to tell him that. “That sir, I can’t disclose.” 

“You’re no fun Zero, I thought we told each other everything.” She could hear the pout in his voice and she wished she could see his adorable face. 

“Oh we tell each other everything do we?” She laughed. “Then how come I didn’t know you had a marking kink?” 

“LISTEN STOP STALKING ME! I SWEAR TO GOD ZERO! JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU I’L-” Just like that she cut off the coms laughing hysterically at Fours outburst. 

Looking to the clock she noticed that she just had enough time to change and dry her hair before she had to make her way to the cafe.

When she finally made it to the cafe she spotted One straight away, he was stood by the counter. When they made eye contact he ushered her to follow him to the furthest booth in the back of the shop. 

“Why did we meet here? Why didn’t you just come up to the hotel room?” She whispered as she sat down by the side of him.

“Because I’m here, and he doesn’t want me to know where he’s keeping you.” Zero’s head shot up to the second voice, she looked at one expecting him to instantly tell her who this other woman was.

But her brain finally caught up to her and it registered the accent. “Five?” She said in disbelief.

She quickly snapped back to One who seemed more interested in the phone in his hand then on the meeting. “I thought you said I couldn’t tell the others about this?”  

“He asked me to help you get ready for tonight.” Five had now moved around the back of One’s chair and took a seat. 

“Tonight?” Zero’s brows furred in confusion. “You mean the mission is tonight?” 

“Yes.” One said still more immersed in his phone, It was starting to piss her off. “Did I not mention that in the email this morning?” 

Zero gritted her teeth. “No, you made no mention that a big mission, not to mention my first ever mission would be tonight.” 

Finally he peered up from his phone to see Zero angrily staring him down. “Okay look.” Finally the phone landed on the table. “It’s simple really, You’re going to be working as a bartender. Which luckily for you, you already have experience in. Serve drinks to anyone that comes up to the bar, start conversations, ask questions but most importantly listen to the conversations around you. People get drunk at these things and spill shit that their not suppose to, and so the rest of the team aren’t suspicious your coms will be off when you start your shift.”

“What will you tell them? Isn’t it going to be more suspicious that I’m not at the end of coms?” She looked between One and Five. 

“It’s not really a tech based mission, I’ll just say I gave you the night off.” He shrugged. 

“What about the others? Where will they be?” By that she meant where would Four be, but she wasn’t going to outright say that, not in front of One at least.

“Two and Three have their own little mission in the hotel, Seven will be taking a backseat and Four and Five will be working the floor in the club you’ll be serving.” She looked to Five at the mention of Four, her eyes lit up. “AH! Don’t even think about it, off limits Zero.” 

She just scoffed at him, he acted like he was her real father sometimes. “As if I didn’t know that already, I’m not a child One. I can handle myself.” 

“Yeah well I’m trusting you, don’t fuck this up Zero. Five has everything prepared for you she’s going to leave first, you wait twenty minutes then follow her to the hotel. Room 374, she’ll get you ready for tonight.” 

One got up from his seat without a single sound, he nodded at both the women and then headed for the door.  It wasn’t until he was out of sight that Zero looked over at Five, they just smiled at each other. With all the information she had just consumed she hadn’t even stopped to think that she was actually in the presence of one of her family members, one that wasn’t One!

“This is crazy.” 

Five just smiled at her, a genuinely beautiful smile that Zero couldn’t help but return. “It’s so nice to finally put a face to the voice.” She looked down at her watch and sighed. “We shouldn’t do this here though, I’m going to leave now I’ll meet you at the hotel. Room 374 remember.” 

“Got it! I’ll meet you there.” She couldn’t stop smiling as Five got up and waved her goodbye. 

The twenty minutes she waited to follow Five were the longest twenty minutes she’d ever had to wait in her life, it seemed to drag on she was so nervous she had to physically hold her knee down to stop her leg from shaking. 

The walk to the hotel didn’t take too long and she reached the lobby in no time, she put on the dark cap paired with some black shades. Nothing too out of the ordinary but it kept her face hidden none the less.  Once she walked inside she was in awe, she’d never seen the inside of such an expensive and vast hotel. It was absolutely beautiful, she dreaded to think what a room would cost in this place. As she walked further in she lowered her glasses to get a better look at the foyer her eyes were glued to the ceiling so she didn’t know she was on a collision path with a tall beefy guy who was looking down at his phone until they hit one another and she nearly went flying. Luckily he had reacted in time and broke her fall, though her glasses weren’t so lucky. 

She got up and brushed herself off. “God I’m so sorry mami!” Her head shot up at the familiar voice. 

Staring back at her was Three, she quickly had to remind herself who she was and where she was. “No problem, I think we were both at fault, I was mesmerised by the ceiling and you by your phone.” The first accent that came to mind was an Irish one, so she went with it. 

He just nodded in agreement and gave her a lopsided smile. “Ah! here, you dropped these.” He bent down and handed her back her sunglasses. 

“Thanks, sorry again.” She smiled at him one last time then scurried off to the elevators. 

Once she was secured and alone in the metal box she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, and sighed. This was going to be one hell of a long night.  Her thoughts were interrupted when the elevator dinged, she rushed down the hall and knocked hurriedly on the door labelled 374. She had no intentions of bumping into anyone else, not even a second later Five opened the door and Zero rushed inside.

“Woah, what happened? Are you okay?” Zero moved to the couch in the room and laid down, burrowing her face in her hands. 

“I just accidentally bumped into Three downstairs.” She sided eyed Five who looked at her in shock. “Don’t worry I don’t think he knew who I was, I put on an Irish accent. Don’t tell One though he’ll probably pull me from the mission if he finds out.” 

Before Five could even respond to her, Zero took notice of her laptop and ear piece on the table in front of her when it started to crackle. “Hey party people, are we all ready for tonight? It’s a shame I won’t get to hear your beautiful voice in my ear tonight Zero, can’t believe that One has actually given you the night off.” 

She reached out and took the earpiece. “Don’t be too sad Four, at least you’ll be able to actually concentrate on this mission.” She looked up at Five who was just giggling, It was so strange to actually be in the same room as her. Zero smiled, she could get use to this. 

“Who I’m I going to piss off tonight though?” She could practically hear the pout in his voice. 

“I’m sure you’ll find some beautiful girl to have on your arm and piss off the entire night.” She felt sad just thinking about it. “Well good luck team, do me proud! and don’t miss me too much.” She shut the communication line down before he could respond. 

She looked up to Five as she shut the laptop and took out her ear piece, placing it on top of the laptop. She wouldn’t be needing that now for the rest of the night.

“You okay?” Five gave her a sad smile.

Zero forced herself to look completely unphased. “I’m fine, let’s go get ready.” 

.....

Zero stood at the bar, Five had dressed her in black skinny jeans paired with some black Doc Marten boots, a black silk button up and a deep green velvet waistcoat. She wore a dark black wig that came down to her chest and flowed in light curls, her makeup was smoky to match the uniform. She looks professional. The venue was dark, with moody but classy lighting which meant she blended right in.  The bartender role came naturally to Zero, before she was a ghost she had worked in a small bar for about two years before everything had kicked off, the events of which led her here. 

She started the shift by just cleaning up glasses, serving mostly already drunk customers and listening to every word of every conversation. About five minutes early she had spotted Five enter the room with a rich looking man on her arm, she’d caught Zero’s eye from across the room and winked at her which put her at ease. 

Suddenly the air in the room shifted, she couldn’t explain it but her eyes were drawn to the entrance of the club. A man walked in, his blonde hair was slicked back on the top but the sides where shaven. A tight black tux hugged his body, Zero wished she could picture this moment for the rest of her life, butterflies started to stir in her stomach.

It was Four. 

[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.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

heyyyy luv could you please bless us with a secret relationship and bucky :')

specifics: bucky is always disappearing from the compound and everyone figures that it's bucky being bucky.. but he's visiting his civilian girlfriend and knows that she'll be in danger the moment they go public so he doesn't even tell the team about her.. and their circumstances of meeting could be in the aftermath of some Avengers thing?

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

Word Count: 2,837

Y/N had just hopped out of the shower and was now combing her hair and applying all your moisturizers. She was home alone in her small, one-bedroom apartment. She had some soft music playing from her laptop, trying to wind down from her day.

However, when she stepped out of the bathroom, there was a large man casually moving about her bedroom.

Y/N yelped and nearly dropped her towel from the fright.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

He immediately looked guilty and tried to make himself smaller and less intimidating. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” she pointed out, hand still over her heart as if it would calm its racing.

He stepped over to her and gave her a hello kiss. “Got home quicker than we planned. I texted you, but I can obviously see that you were in the shower when I sent it.” He pointed to her phone that she’d left on her nightstand.

Then Bucky cupped her cheek and kissed her again, slower and more passionately this time.

“I really am sorry for scaring you,” he told her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

He could clearly hear the rapid beating of her heart with those insane super-soldier senses.

“It’s OK. Should be used to your sneaky, ninja ways by now.”

He chuckled.

That’s when Y/N saw the bruise on his left cheek. His hair was wet too. 

Bucky always showered before he came to see her after missions. Y/N had told him time and time again that he could shower at her place. Bucky always just shrugged and said it was quicker to do it at the compound. But he was actually just trying to hide all the blood that was left on his skin. Y/N didn’t need to see it. Especially when it wasn’t his blood.

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises. Don’t you go starting…” Bucky warned when he saw the concern in her eyes as she stared at his bruise.

Y/N sighed and allowed him to brush over it.

Then she moved around him to hunt for some pajamas and underwear.

“What’d you tell the team?” She tried to ask in a nonchalant manner as she shuffled through her dresser.  

“What do you mean?” Bucky played stupid.

Y/N straightened and turned to give him a look. “I mean, what lie did you tell them before you came over here.”

She didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh.

“I didn’t tell them anything. I snuck out when they were all in the kitchen eating.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, just went back to find clothes.

Bucky was suddenly filled with guilt. “Y/N–”

“It’s fine, Bucky.” She threw on a crew sweatshirt without even realizing that it was one of the many items of clothing Bucky left at her place.

“It’s not fine. You’re upset.”

She was fully dressed now and turned around to face him. “I’m not upset. I’m frustrated.”

Y/N was always one to be direct with her emotions. Never lied about being fine when she was not. Always told Bucky exactly how she was feeling, even if it took her a bit to fully figure out what that was. It was one of the countless reasons he loved her. And it made him less shy about expressing his own emotions. His mental and emotional health only improved because of it. Because of her.

“OK…” Bucky said slowly, inviting her to continue.

Y/N sighed and plopped herself on the edge of her bed. He sat down next to her. 

“Look, Bucky…I know why this – us – is secret. I understand where you’re coming from. I know…” She took a breath. “I know you do it because you think it keeps me safe. But the team…they’re more than the Avengers. They’re your friends. They’re your family. And I might not have ever met them, but from what you’ve told me, they would die before they told anyone your secrets.”

Bucky swallowed and was wringing his hands in his lap, head hung in slight shame. “I know that.”

“So why are you keeping me a secret from them?”

“It has nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bucky immediately shot down. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of you, Y/N. Hell, every day I wake up and wonder how I even managed to snag a dame like you. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s you.”

She waited for him to continue and explain.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Then he reached over to hold her hand. “It’s just…I feel like as soon as you meet them, our little bubble of happiness is going to pop.” His metal hand ran through his wet hair. “When I’m with you, I just feel like Bucky. Sometimes I even feel like my old self, that naive bastard from the 30s.” He sighed. “But as soon as I introduce you to that part of my life, I’m scared you’ll see all the things about myself that I don’t want you to. You’ll be reminded that I am – was – the Winter Soldier. That I’m not just Bucky, your boyfriend. I’m a surviving POW, I’m an assassin, a soldier, an Avenger. I won’t be able to hide all my baggage once that happens.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, love was in her eyes.

“Bucky, I knew those things all along.”

“I know. I know, doll. But I just – I don’t want anything to change between us.”

Y/N laughed lightly. “Of course things will change between us. That’s part of a relationship. We grow together.” She laughed again. “Or grow apart.” Then her smile dropped and she got serious. “But I don’t see the latter happening for us.”

Bucky just nodded in agreement.

“They love you like I love you.” Y/N shrugged sadly. “I just want to meet the people that take care of you when you’re not with me.”

Bucky gave her a sorrowful grin.

Y/N sighed. “I’m not going to pressure you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I just wanted to tell you how I was feeling about it all.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for telling me.”

Their night went on like it normally did. Bucky had returned Friday night, so now he got to spend the whole weekend with his girl.

When he was gone from the compound for long periods like this, Steve was the only one that really showed concern. He thought Bucky was always on some weird mental bender, going night after night without sleep and just wandering around. Bucky figured Steve imagined him trying to get drunk from one bar to the next.

Obviously Bucky felt guilty for unnecessarily worrying his best friend, especially when he was actually doing better than OK. But letting Steve believe in the false ideas was a sacrifice Bucky was willing to make in order to have Y/N in his life.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N’s argument for her to meet his friends. He understood completely where she was coming from. He wished he could give her that. He wished he could give her normal – that he was a different person, who didn’t have to hyper analyze every single decision in his life in order to keep himself and the people he loved safe.

But that kind of life was taken from him when he fell off that damn train.

————————————————

“You’re a god damn idiot, you know that?” Steve snapped at Bucky as he started ripping bandages from a roll with his teeth.

Bucky was currently laying down on the quinjet’s operating table.

“Sometimes I just hate that Captain America gets all the attention,” Bucky joked.

But Steve wasn’t laughing.

Because Bucky was bleeding out. 

And he was in pain, yes. But he wasn’t about to tell anyone that.

“Well, dying on me is definitely one way to steal the spotlight, punk.”

“Captain Rogers, if I could interrupt,” Vision was looking at Bucky over Steve’s shoulder. “The bullet was a through shot and it thankfully hit no important arteries or organs. Do not be fooled by the blood, Sergeant Barnes’ super-soldier enhancements will heal him faster than the average man.”

Steve ground his teeth, thankful for Vision’s scientific encouragement but also still irritated with Bucky’s condition. “Thanks, Vision.”

“See,” Bucky started coughing. He could only imagine how pale and clammy he looked. “I’m fine.”

“Oh. Well, I do still suggest we stop the bleeding or he will surely die of blood loss.” Vision piped in again.

Bucky glared at the cyborg. “We gotta work on your delivery, pal.”

Vision winced, but got out of Steve’s way.

“You just had to go and get yourself shot. You couldn’t let me take a bullet for once,” Steve muttered as he put pressure on Bucky’s giant wound.

“Well, you see, your shield was still planted in a brick wall and I saw someone pointing a gun at you. I thought my metal arm would do the trick but the bastard shifted his aim at the last minute.” He glared at Steve for real now. “I’m not sorry. And I’d do it again.”

Steve exhaled, knowing that there was no point in scolding Bucky. The man would sacrifice himself for any of his teammates and any civilian. That’s why Steve was friends with him.

“Hey, Steve?” For the first time since getting shot, Bucky sounded scared.

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

Steve nodded. “OK…”

“You can’t…You can’t ask any questions. You just have to do it, OK? I promise I’ll explain later.”

His tone was starting to worry Steve. “Bucky, you’re not dying on me, you hear me? If this is some final wish, I’ll smack you.”

“I’m not dying today. I’ve been through worse shit. Just tell me you’ll do the damn favor, Steve.”

“OK. OK. OK. What is it?”

“I’m about to pass out from the blood loss. So, listen to me carefully.” Bucky’s eyes flickered around him to make sure no one else was paying attention to him. “I need you to get my cell. Find the contact labeled Smithsonian Institution Offices. Text them that I’d like my dog tags returned from the museum. She’ll know what to do from there.”

Bucky’s body relaxed once his instructions were finished. His eyes fluttered close. Sleep sounded nice.

“She?” Steve asked.

But Bucky was already passed out.

——————————————

Steve had been pacing in the welcome lobby of the compound for a solid 20 minutes now. He was pretty sure he’d correctly put together the puzzle pieces. But Steve was having trouble believing that Bucky would do what he was suspecting.

All pacing stopped when he saw security escorting a young woman through the doors.

She was beautiful. Anyone with sight would notice that immediately.

Even if her eyes were red – which Steve suspected was from crying – they were mesmerizing.

She looked uncomfortable and clearly felt out of place at the Avengers’ compound.

Steve stepped forward. “Y/N?” He asked carefully.

She stared at him for a moment, taking him in like she was trying to match up the reality to how she had pictured him in her head.

Then she nodded.

Steve eyed the two security guards on either side of her. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks.”

Then he turned his attention to Y/N. “Follow me.”

They started their journey through the large and complicated halls of the compound. Every so often, someone walking past them would eye Y/N, not recognizing her or wondering who was lucky enough to be in the company of Captain America.

“So…” Steve felt the need to break the silence on their long walk. “You and Bucky. You’re…”

“This is not how I wanted to meet you, Steve.” She quickly rushed out. “I’m so sorry. It was Bucky’s idea, keeping me a secret.”

“Oh, I know there was no way it was anyone’s idea but his own. This has Bucky written all over it. I’m just still trying to…” Steve scratched the back of his neck, “wrap my mind around it.” Then he shook his head. “It explains a lot actually: the late nights, leaving for days at a time, keeping his phone on him at all times.”

Y/N smirked then. “I send him a lot of stupid videos during the day. Mostly cats.”

They were at the medical wing then. Steve turned to face her. “I get it. I get why he did it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt that he thought he couldn’t tell me.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, understanding where he was coming from. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m happy to be meeting you now. Obviously I wish the circumstances were better.” She gave him a sad smile. “He’s told me all about you. I feel like I know all of you actually.” She bowed her head. “I practically begged him to let me meet all of you. But Bucky – he’s very protective of me.”

Steve nodded. That same characteristic was the very reason Bucky was even injured in the first place.

“He might be sleeping. But he’s in the first room on the left. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

Y/N nodded. She was about to take a step forward, but then quickly changed her mind and hurriedly pulled Steve into a hug.

Steve was caught off guard by it, but quickly recovered.

“Thanks for always taking care of him, Steve.” She whispered into his shoulder.

“I think I should be the one saying that to you…”

Y/N pulled away and quickly wiped away tears with embarrassment. “Right. I should…” She awkwardly pointed to the room and walked away.

Steve was going to give them a moment. But his curiosity couldn’t be stopped.

Ever so quietly, he tiptoed to the edge of the room and stood hidden off to the side of the door.

“Doll, please don’t cry. I promise I’m OK. It’s all part of the job.” Steve heard Bucky trying to console her.

“When I got the text,” Y/N cried. “I just knew it wasn’t you who sent it. I knew something was wrong. I’d been feeling off all day.” She sniffed. “Bucky, I was so scared.”

“Shhh. I’m OK. Everything’s OK. Come here, Y/N.”

There was shuffling and Steve could only assume Bucky had pulled her entire body to him.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered.

“I love you too, doll.”

An hour later, Steve found both of them passed out. Even injured and asleep, Bucky had both his arms protectively around Y/N, holding her as close as possible. His nose in her hair. Her head on his chest.

——————

A week later, Bucky found Steve in the study.

He’d been discharged a couple days ago, but firmly ordered not to overexert himself. The team had let him heal, all of them slowly being told about Y/N’s existence and letting her be the one to nurse Bucky back to health in privacy.

“You want to talk about this?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the doorway.

Steve closed his sketchbook and rubbed his face with a sigh.

“You’re allowed to be mad at me, you know.” Bucky added.

“I get why you did it. I do.” Then Steve finally looked at him. “But that still doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“Y/N…she was the only thing in my life that was all mine and no one else’s. Everything else about me is owned by the world. My story, my history, my imprisonment. It’s out there for the world to read and make unfair judgements about.” Bucky shook his head. “I just couldn’t bare to bring Y/N into that: to be judged and criticized.”

“It’s me we’re talking about, Bucky.” Steve argued.

“But it wouldn’t stop there. Next it would’ve been Sam, then Nat, then Tony. It’s a slippery slope. All I ever wanted to do was keep her safe, Steve.”

“I know. I know.” Steve sighed. “That’s why I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.”

“That means a lot to me, Steve.”

“You know, it all makes sense now.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What does?”

“Why you’ve changed so much – and I mean for the better. You seemed happier, lighter, healthier. It’s because of Y/N, isn’t it?”

Bucky smiled even at just hearing her name. “Yeah, it is.”

Steve nodded and gave him a shy grin. “I talked to the team. They understand the situation.” His eyes grew heavy with earnestness. “Your secret is safe with us, Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “She’s one of us now. And we protect our own.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Can you just do us all a favor though? Can you start bringing her around? Maybe just properly introduce her to everyone at least?”

Bucky smiled. “I think we can manage that. Y/N would – that would make her really happy.”

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

I have a few more of these requests to fill. Honestly, they’ve been fun and a great palette cleanser.

Let me know what you think!

(My requests are no longer open FYI.) 

[et-lesailes]

alibi

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

word count: 2485

summary: the death of harlan thrombey is being investigated, and while ransom seems to be the perfect suspect, he also has the perfect alibi.

themes: mentions of murder, drama, fluff

taglist: @evanstush​, @chibi-crazy​, @tanyam93​, @bval-1​, @wonderwinchester​,  @patzammit​, @rohaintahquil​, @deidrashouseofpain​, @sammyslonglostshoe​, @mizariomi​, @jadedhillon​, @bohemian-barbie​, @marvelouspottering​, @sebabestianstan101​, @lille-kattunge​, @peach-acid​, @heyiamthatbitch​, @cptn-sgrogers​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​, @bangtan-serendipity​, @troublermalik​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​, @hannie-stark​, @bookish-shristi​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​, @whores4thor​, @gingerninjaprincess16​, @straightforwardly​, @danathewitchywoman​, @denisemarieangelina​, @mango--mango​, @frencchfries​, @xlanawriter​, @littlemoistcarrot​, @pottxrwolff​, @arianatheangelworld​, @ifuseekamyevans​, @southerngracela​, @nsfwsebbie​, @rororo06​​, @almost-had-the-stars​, @sebastian-i-stan​, @whysparker​​

notes: this was based on an idea given to me by @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ and i absolutely loved it! i did change it up a little, and no i did not reveal who the actual killer is-- because i don’t know how to write mystery fics for shit, and i wanted to focus on ransom and reader’s relationship rather than solving an entire ass murder. anywho there are references to scenes from the movie so if you’re sensitive to spoilers then don’t read! and thank you to @thewritingdoll​ for the graphic!

“You think I killed my Granddad.”

Ransom looks at Detective Benoit for a few seconds before scoffing, even smirking as he looks to the window of the elegant room lined with bookshelves. “And why exactly do you think that?”

“Now I didn’t say that.” The detective drawls, leaning forward and looking at the younger with intense crystal hues. “But you left his party early, right after a rather serious fight with him, and you don’t bother to show to the funeral… seems a little suspicious. I’d like to know where you were.”

Ransom looks at the detective for a few moments before leaning in as well. “Where I was,” he lowers his voice, “is none of your goddamn business. It’s not even relevant to anyone in this goddamn family, so you can go ahead and get your Kentucky Fried ass out of it right now.” He stands up, looking at the detective almost challengingly. “Maybe you should find another occupation, Detective, because you don’t seem all that great at this one.”

Benoit watches as the man turns around and walks out the door. A few seconds later, he stands up as well, walking outside. He gets into the passenger side of a waiting car, the headlights turned off.

He nods towards Detective Elliot sitting in the driver’s side. “Follow him.”

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS EARLIER

“Interesting how you’ll show up at the reading of the will and not at your grandfather’s actual funeral.” Walt Thrombey comments as Ransom strides into the room, his expression bored as he tucks his sunglasses into his pocket. He barely smirks in amusement upon his uncle’s comment, sitting himself down on one of the couches and crossing his legs. “Had another commitment. Unlike you, I wasn’t stuck up his ass my whole life.”

Walt widens his eyes, immediately shooting up from his seat through struggling slightly with his limp. “What the hell did you just say to me? That’s not true, w-we worked together, of course we had to spend time together!” His wife quickly grabs his arm, giving Ransom a dirty look. “Just sit down, sweetheart.” Ransom notices his father barely chuckle out of the corner of his eye. 

What a family.

“You shouldn’t be here, Ransom,” Meg hisses, glaring at her older cousin. “You never appreciated Granddad. All you did was fight with him all the time.” Her mother Joni bites her lip but murmurs, “Up until his very last night…. Seems a little suspicious.” Linda immediately turns on her. “Excuse you? Are you trying to imply something here concerning my son?” 

“Oh come on, Linda,” Walt scoffs, “I bet you wouldn’t put it past him either. Kid’s a sociopath, always has been. We’ve been telling you to get him help for years.”

“My son does not need help!” Richard raises his voice, standing up infuriated. “And do you really want to talk about damaged children right now? Have you met Jacob?”

The young teenage boy looks up from his phone, clearly offended. “What’s wrong with me? Besides, I told you guys, I heard Ransom basically threatening Granddad! He clearly did it!” His mother quickly rubs his arm. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Jacob.” The fight only escalates from there, insults directed towards all the Thrombey children firing back and forth. 

Ransom can’t help himself. It starts out as a grin, then a low chuckle, then finally a loud cackle of laughter. He’s practically thumping the armrest of the couch, shaking his head to himself. “Oh, God. You guys are too funny. We should do this more often.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Meg practically screeches, “What is wrong with you? How are you getting enjoyment from this?” Over her voice, other comments can be heard-- “He shouldn’t even be here!” “Can he just fucking leave already?” “Do something about your son!” “Why do you guys suck as parents?” “He should be removed from the damn family!” “Fucking spoiled brat!” “Cut him off already!”

Ransom scoffs, his face still full of amusement. “How about… eat shit,” he points to Meg, then Walt, “and you eat shit,” he continues, then chuckles seeing his parents reprimanding him, “you definitely eat shit…” 

He’s still going as everyone’s telling him how “classy” he is, the uproar becoming louder and louder. Perhaps anyone else in his position would be affected by this-- it normally isn’t easy for most to be so hated and despised by their own family, and it’s generally quite stressful to be in a yelling match with at least seven other people. Not for Ransom, though. He’s lived with this dysfunction his whole life, and now, he only finds it hilarious how uptight and irritable his high strung family gets. They make it so damn easy for him to have some fun.

“Hello? Excuse me!” a loud voice rings above all the fighting, and everyone falls silent, looking towards the doorway. An old man is standing there, looking at the family in both shock and disgust. “We’re ready to read the will now, if you all are done.” Everyone immediately gets up, nodding their heads and forgetting all about the drama Ransom’s started.

For now, anyways.

Detective Benoit Blanc can’t help but study Ransom as the will is being read, taking in how calm and collected he is. He has not eliminated any suspects, and God knows this entire family is a mess of dysfunction and motive, but he has at least had the opportunity to talk with them and get to know them a little better. Ransom is still a mystery, and he finds this suspicious.

It is not long before the family is in an uproar again, this time over the will. Even Benoit is shocked. All of Harlan’s inheritance, gone to Marta Cabrera? He looks to Ransom, who’s simply sitting there grinning like an idiot- even beginning to laugh hysterically.

Ransom appears to be the only one who knew of Harlan’s plans before anyone else in the family. Benoit takes note of this. Perhaps it will help him later on. 

PRESENT TIME

“There’s two cars in the driveway.” Lieutenant Elliot notes, the two of them watching as Ransom gets out of his. “A Honda Civic. Nothing flashy, expensive-- certainly not Ransom’s.” Benoit murmurs, keeping his head slightly low as he keeps an eye on the man from their spot behind a tree. He walks into the modern style home, and Elliot barely chuckles. “These giant windows sure help. Jesus, he must not care too much for privacy.” He raises an eyebrow, adding, “Not that this is going to give us anything, Benny, come on-- the guy killed himself. That’s all there is to it.”

“There’s just something about this boy.” Benoit sighs, looking to the house calmly. “He’s… hiding something. From his entire family. I’d like to make sure it doesn’t involve Harlan’s death.” 

What the two see in the next five minutes is definitely unexpected, to say the least. Elliot watches the living room window in shock, scoffing slowly. “Unbelievable. This is what he’s hiding? How-- how could his family not know?” 

Benoit watches, his expression unreadable for a few moments before the corner of his lips slowly tugs upwards. “I see.” He murmurs, more so to himself. “I suppose the kid could be innocent, after all.” 

“Why am I here again?” Ransom raises an eyebrow at the man before him, crossing his legs. “We’ve already gone over this. I didn’t kill my Granddad, and I’m not answering any questions as to where I-”

“Anette Harper Drysdale.” Benoit cuts him off, looking at an open file in his hands. “Born November 22nd at 11:42 AM.” He looks up at Ransom’s shocked expression, tilting his head to one side. “During your grandfather’s funeral.” He looks back down at the file, flipping to another page. “It appears her mother arrived at the hospital the night before, though. Early contractions. You checked in to see her at 9:23 PM and didn’t check out until after the baby was born.”

“How do you have those?” Ransom immediately hisses, shooting up from his chair and reaching out to grab the file. Benoit lets him, having suspected he would do as much anyways. “We had reasonable suspicion, and so the hospital was required to give it to us. I’m only confused as to why you didn’t just tell us all of this from the start. You clearly had no part in your grandfather’s death. Why not prove yourself innocent with this?”

“Because my family can’t know about Y/N. And they especially can’t know about Anette.” Ransom sits back down, teeth grit from frustration. “Fine. You got me, alright? I’m married. And now, I have a daughter. A daughter who isn’t even a week old. That’s all I’m hiding here, and I want to continue hiding it. I’m not introducing my real family to this fucked up bunch.”

“I won’t tell them.” Benoit replies after studying the other for a few moments. “I have to admit, I had you all wrong.”

“Yeah, most people do. Look, being with Y/N- I’m not the same person I was before. I mean, sure, I’m not a fucking saint. And I’ll still take any chance I can to see my parents, cousins, uncles, aunts-- to see them get screwed over just because of how damn entertaining it is. But I’m never, never going to do something to jeopardize my wife, and now, my daughter. Do you get that?”

Benoit looks at the intensity in Ransom’s features. He’s sure the boy knows how to lie like a pro, but he can tell he’s not lying now.

“You can go, Ransom. I’ve officially eliminated you as a suspect from this case.”

You’re sitting at home in the nursery and cradling your sweet baby girl to sleep when Ransom walks in, his loud sigh echoing through the spacious living room. “Oh!” you whisper, wanting to call to him that you’re upstairs but definitely not wanting to wake little Anette. You carefully stand up, holding her close as you walk out of the nursery, coming to the banister that gives you a view of the front door so you can wave to him to come up. He immediately grins upon seeing you, taking off his coat and scarf tossing both on the nearby couch before making his way upstairs. “Hey.” He mumbles lowly, wrapping one arm around you and kissing your head. “How is she?” You smile, leaning into your boyfriend’s hold. “A little angel. I can’t believe how lucky we got, she barely cries-- only when she’s hungry.” 

He stares down at his daughter’s face, almost in disbelief with himself. He never cared for babies, or for people for that matter. After living with such a shit family like his, he had never really learned what loving or caring for someone was like. He watched them use others, use his grandfather’s money for their own success, and so that’s what he did. People were puppets to be manipulated, and he could bend them to his will however he wanted because of his family’s money.

And then he met you. No, it wasn’t love at first sight, no bullshit like that. He hates to think about it but in the beginning, he saw you as he saw every other female companion he came across. Someone to play with, someone to throw money at for a couple of weeks just for the hell of it, someone to satisfy his sexual needs. 

At least, that’s what he had wanted from you. And you were certainly not giving into it. 

He remembers how shocked yet intrigued he had been. You wouldn’t accept any money from him, and you didn’t fall for any of his charming flirtations. He even had to watch you date other men right in front of him before finally realizing this was driving him crazy. It started out as simply wanting something he couldn’t have. As he got to know you, it turned into just… wanting you no matter what. It stopped becoming some type of challenging game to him. It became reality. 

He thought he was the master manipulator in any relationship, but damn, you managed to twist him into all sorts of shapes and forms without even trying.

“She gets it from you, you know.” He mutters playfully with a scoff as he carefully walks you back into the nursery, eyes still fixated on his sleeping baby’s face. “Can’t even imagine having one like me running around.” You laugh softly at the thought, gently setting the little girl down into her crib. She barely frowns and you hold your breath, worried that those blue-green eyes might open along with a wailing mouth, but she simply settles down again and resumes sleeping. “Well, that might be a possibility in the future,” you remark as you step back, looking up at him with an amused smile. “Aren’t you the one who said you want us to have at least three?”

“Mainly because you look so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Ransom mutters, leaning down to bury his head in your neck and start kissing at every inch of skin he can. “It’s just so hot seeing you carry my child.” You smile as you tilt your head, reaching your hand up to stroke his hair. “Well my handsome baby daddy, you can calm down for the time being because I have no plans of being pregnant again right after giving birth.” He sighs dramatically as the two of you leave the nursery, closing the door but leaving it slightly cracked open. “Mm, fine, we’ll talk when Anette’s one.”

You chuckle softly but bite your lip, holding his hands as you stop to look up at him. “What did he ask you?” Ransom pauses before sighing, looking down at you seriously. “He knows about us. About Anette. But he promised he wouldn’t tell my family. He just cleared me from the case, I’m officially not involved anymore.”

You sigh in relief, squeezing his hand lightly. “That’s great, baby. But... what are you going to do?” you ask, a little worried. “Sooner or later you’re not going to have their money anymore. I don’t mind being the only one working, babe, but with a single income we might have to move out of this place…”

Ransom looks down at you more seriously, reaching out to stroke a strand of your hair behind your ear. “If I have to get a job at my mom’s stupid real estate agency, I will. No matter what, we’ll figure this out. I’m going to do whatever I can if it means providing for the two of you and giving you the best damn life possible, got it?”

You smile and nod your head, standing on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “As long as you’re here with us, we’ve already got the best life.” 

[anothermcytblog]

do not ask why i made this but here is the entire transcript of “Wilbur talking about eating Sand for 14 minutes...” I wrote in two hours for no reason other then boredom.

Phil, farming sand in minecraft: -it is similar to how the 0 tick farms work where it pushes pistons underneath and on top. 

Wilbur, donating with Text To Speech: Phil have you ever eaten sand? 

Phil, laughing: No. I don't think I have. I might have when I was a kid I guess. Why Wilbur? Whas- wuah wuh wuh What is this? 

TTS Wilbur: Could eat the sand. 

Phil, silent for a second: 

Phil: I could the...

Phil: 

Phil: I could? 

TTS Wilbur: Might be faster. 

Phil, laughing again: Inhaled sand. Okay. Into my body, then what? I need to place it dude, what do you mean? I'm just gonna shit out bricks. I'm just gonna shit out- I'm just gonna shit out sandstone is that it? 

TTS Wilbur: Then you put sand somewhere better. 

Phil, wheezily chuckling: Wil I have- I have actually no idea where you are going with this. I'm legit just as confused as some people in chat. I don't- *laughing* 

TTS Wilbur: Well if the sand is somewhere better then it's not in your way anymore. 

Phil: You okay WIl? You alright mate? We were playing Civ for a long time last night. Are you okay mate? You’re not gonna start worrying me are you? We’re pretty close to each other. 

TTS Wilbur: Yeah I’m fine. If you eat the sand and move it then you won’t have to keep shoveling it. 

Phil, sighing like a disappointed dad: Brilliant. Chat I don’t know he’s gone off the- he’s gone off *gasp* Oh my fucking god dude he was so quiet. That is a threat they make no noise when they’re on lava. Jesus. I was like “What’s hit me!?” It was like a single hit that made me think it was a player or something cause it was silent. I was just like- there was no noise. Okay dually noted, magma cubes don’t make any noise on lava. 

TTS Wilbur: Magma cubes are boring Phil. Let’s talk about eating sand again. 

Phil, laughing: Wil have you- have you ate sand is this what you are talking about *hears a ghast* fucking hell. 

TTS Wilbur: Yes I have. 

Phil, softly: What is this conversation… *Normal tone* Was it nice? 

TTS Wilbur: It gets between your teeth and is fun to crunch in the car ride home. 

[ Phil, grossed out and letting out various forms of Nope and nooo in funny tones of voice ]

Phil: Ooohhh that was a horrible vision. That was a horrible visual. You had a strange childhood Wilbur I’m just gonna say it wasn’t my fault though. *Laughing* Did you just pocket sand and start going- *mimickings eating sand* 

TTS Wilbur: Then when I get home I put it in my mouse. I successfully move the sand. 

[ Phil sighs disappointedly ] 

Phil: Chat I don’t know what we’re going to do with Wil. 

TTS Wilbur: I would sometimes put it in my pockets too yes. 

Phil: I don’t know what we’re going to do with Wil he’s a lost cause chat. Genuinely worried for my dude. It’s not five head. 

TTS Wilbur: This wasn’t in my childhood, Phil. 

[ Phil is silent in disappointed dad™ for a solid like, seven seconds]

Phil: Wil when I come to visit you, uhhh, later this year we’re going to have talks about this. We’re going to have talks, son.

TTS Wilbur: Why? 

Phil: Stop eating sand son. *Laughing* It’s not good for you. 

TTS Wilbur: What’s in it that’s bad for me? 

Phil: It is literal rocks! *Sighing* Oohh I can’t. Chattt. Tell him pleaaase. 

TTS Wilbur: So is salt. 

Phil: Oooohhh I knew he was gonna pull some weird sh- I fucking knew- *chuckling* Not the same dude. *Laughing* Not edible. Please he does not have a point do not give him any sort of leeway here chat. 

TTS Wilbur: Please enlighten me on what makes salt edible and sand inedible. 

[ Phil is silent in disappointed dad™ part 2 electric boogalo]

A TTS Donation: Human biology college major here. I do not recommend eating sand. 

Phil, cackling: Ohh… god. 

TTS Wilbur: Why not? 

Phil: Wil does sand- does sand dissolve in water Wil? I don’t think it does, does it? 

TTS Wilbur: Any further questions? Or have I persuaded you? 

[ Phil Laughs ]

A different TTS Donation: Now I know why Wilbur’s humor is so dry. It’s from all the sand he’s been eating.

Phil, losing his mind laughing: Ohhhh- *cackles* Nice Trixtin.  

TTS Wilbur: So we’re relying that sand isn’t contaminated with dog piss or something. Sand physically can not harm you if you eat it. It’s fun to chew like chewing blades of grass in fields. A simple pastime. No nutritional value like salt. 

[ Phil is silent in disappointed dad™ part 3: Batman returns ]

Phil: A simp-

[ Notification that Niachu is raiding ]

Phil, laughing and losing his mind: I didn’t even get to finish my sentence I just said “A simp” and then Niachu shows up with a raid. Niachu get your man, he’s fucking being weird. Thank you so much for the raid. *Laughing*

A different TTS Donation: Chewing sand is basically inviting fiberglass into your system. 

Phil: Yes- uh Nikki, Wil is boasting about eating sand and saying that there is nothing wrong with it. 

TTS Wilbur: I invite fiberglass into my system. Formally. 

[ Phil is silent in disappointed dad™ part 4: This time it’s personal ]

Phil: He’s lost dude. Oh nooo *chuckles*  

TTS Wilbur: My teeth grow perpetually like a hamster. Akin to a hamster I must chew sand so the teeth don’t puncture my skull and kill me. 

Phil, laughing: WHAT?! Bro you’re on some fucking shit what the fuck am I hearing? 

TTS Wilbur: It’s quite similar to the taste of pretzels. 

Phil, sighing but trying not to laugh: You need to stop- You need to stop conca- *wheezing* You need to stop comparing sand to food. He has infinite text to speech chat. I’m giving- I’m applying- I’m giving him a platform of 5.8 thousand. Dude, dangerous information he is spreading. This is the thing right chat? This is not- This is not Wil on any sort of drug at all- this is Wils natural state. Sometimes he just does this. 

TTS Wilbur: Chat. Say 1 if you’re gonna go and try some sand now. Say 2 if you aren’t and also hate anyone who looks different to you. 

Phil: Ohh my god you did not just- just rig the vote dude. You just fucking rigged the vote. *Laughing* Wil, do you just want to get on a call and discuss this? 

Phil, presumably after calling Wilbur on discord: Explain yourself. 

Phil, after a moment of silence: Guys he’s silent I’m scared. *laughing*

TTS Wilbur: Oh fuck wait. 

[ Phil, losing his mind ]

Wilbur, now on call and verbally talking: No I’d like to know- I’d like to- I’d like to genuinely know what’s wrong with what I’m saying. 

Phil: What is wrong with eating sand? 

Wilbur: Yeah. 

Phil: Bro it’s sand.

Wilbur: Well actually I’m not saying chewing- I’m not actually swallowing the sand I’m pretty sure. Might be a couple you know? Might be doin’ a couple of swallows… but. 

[ Phil laughs but in the disappointed dad kind of way ] 

Wilbur: Like you know you chew plastic pen caps. Probably something wrong about that but no one gets angry at you for doing that. As long as the sand is clean I don’t see anything wrong with chewing on some sand. Maybe you’ll swallow some as well you know it’s not- it’s not my business. 

Phil: It’s gonna ffffuck up your teeth what do you mean? 

Wilbur: What do you mean fuck up- so is chewing pen lids. 

Phil: That is nothing compared to sand!

Wilbur: Have you ever had a pretzel, Phil? 

Phil, laughing: Shut the fuck up. Yes. 

Wilbur: Nonono listen, yeah so you know- have you ever bitten the salt off of the pretzel? Have you ever done that?

Phil: Not really no. 

Wilbur: Oh. Well you can do that. Would that fuck up your teeth do you think? 

Phil, a little confused: No I don’t think it woullld. Unless… 

Wilbur: No it’s quite the same consistency as sand.

Phil: Is it thoughhhh…? Is it though? It’s sodium. 

Wilbur: As someone who- As someone who eats sand I’d say it is quite consistent- 

Phil, laughing: Shut up! Stop saying sand is okay to eat please. 

Wilbur: It’s fine to eat- literally I’ll google it. I’ve never had to google it because it’s just so intrinzic in my knowledge that is is okay to eat. 

[ Phil is silent in disappointed dad™ part 5: who raised this man? ]

Wilbur: Goodness! I didn’t realize this was an actual question. I’m obviously just so shocked that one would wonder because it’s so obviously is okay. “So I am curious, under what category does a sand cuisine fall under and why does the fascination-” This person is just being rude, I’m going to skip them. 

Phil, wheezing a little and lightly mocking Wilbur: “I’m going to skip people who don’t agree with me.” 

Wilbur: Uh this person- nonono I’m going to read out this person- This person says “At least not in a good way. It contains quartz which is harmful for your tooth enamel and over time it may harm your teeth although I know of many food recipes which consain- contain sand. There is not much problem for your gut unless you eat to much of it of course.” So basically it’s the quartz that is bad for your tooth enamel but the problem is I don’t have tooth enamel. I- I gave it up for Lentso I’m perfectly fine. 

Phil: What are you talking about? What are- *Laughing* What are you-? Wait hold up go back a sec. 

Wilbur: Yeah? I mean I don’t- I don’t know what recipes include sand but I’d love to try some. 

Phil: Go back to what you just said before. 

Wilbur: What, I gave it up for lent? Why are you laughing? 

Phil, mumbling a little: I don’t… 

Wilbur: Okay around the time of easter uhhh Christan people are supposed to give up something that means a lot to them that’s called lent.

Phil: And you gave up your enamel?  

Wilbur: Well it means a lot to me.

Phil: You can’t give up your enamel. 

Wilbur:  Wilbur: Wh- Well what have I been doing? 

Phil, laughing a little: I don’t know what you’ve been doing. That’s like saying “I gave up my bones for lent.” 

Wilbur: I think- I think we’re going off track here. The point is sand is perfectly fine to eat and that- that the quartz in it that damages your teeth I’m sure- I’m sure you guys can do fine without it. 

Phil: I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree here. I- 

Wilbur: That’s fine I’m not- I’m not saying you should enjoy eating it I’m just you should be happy with me eating it- I mean there is a lot of prejudice in this chat. 

Phil: O-ohh… I should respect your choices to eat sand and damage your teeth?  

Wilbur: Yeah. I know you’re saying that sarcastically but you really should. You should think about this one- you knowing chewing hay? Like- Like a blade of grass if you’re walking? You must have done it, hanging out the right hand side of your mouth. Maybe have a bajo with you as well. 

Phil, laughing: I think- I agree with Trixtion, “Being happy with- for you is a bit much. The most you can expect is tolerance.” 

Wilbur: That’s fine. Do you tolerate me eating sand Phil? 

Phil: Where are you getting sand from to begin with now that I think about it. You live- you live in Londen there’s just- fucking tems dude. 

Wilbur: Any convenient store, construction sites-

Phil: Ooooookay. 

Wilbur: Hour glasses-

Phil: OOOOhhh okay. 

Wilbur: Fish tanks- 

Phil, laughing: Nooooo- stop what you are doing right now. 

Wilbur: Crematoriums-

Phil: Bruhhhhhhh- *Cackling* This conversation is over. 

Wilbur: Okay, bye bye phil. 

Phil, wheezing: You know sometimes I don’t know what I expect from Wil when he’s in one of these moods- uhhh- I was not expecting that though. 

TTS Wilbur: Phil call me back. I have something important to tell you.

Phil, now on call again with Wilbur: Hey mate. 

Wilbur: So um, uh, on my minecraft did you know that concrete is made out of sand- and glass, a lot of glass is made out of sand. There is only certain kind of sand you can use for making concrete and glass right? And the thing is we’re actually uh, having a little bit of shortatage in the sand you can use to make concrete and glass so uh, due to that you can’t just use it just from like, like the desert you have to take it from like, the beach. Um, so what- there is a sand mafia that exists. 

Phil, losing his mind: Shuttt- I hung up on him- I fucking hung up on him. 

TTS Wilbur: Phil I wasn’t finished I think you hung up my accident. 

TTS Wilbur: Phil I’m going to need you to call me back. Phil, on call again with Wilbur: So there’s an actual sand mafia, you fucking-

Wilbur: Yeah yeah it’s apart of a resource depletion uh, sand is having an extreme amount of resource depletion compared to a lot of things in the world, there is a serious lack of sand- let me send you some sources of what I’m talking about here. This is national geographic and this is uh-

Phil, after a cut: I thought you were fucking with me. 

Wilbur: I am not fucking with you Phil. 

Phil, laughing: What the fuck is this? 

Wilbur: So basically the reason we need to mine so much sand is that we need to extract certain elements like titanium and zirconium. Their mineral, uh, is usually found in sand deposits due to pressure and, um, erosion. So it’s really important that you can uh- that that amount is kept under control and there is a lot of money in the sand business and where there is a lot of money there is- theres a short amount of supply, you know, you find organized crime and that’s why we have the sand mafia. I’m not going to say my eating of sand is contributing to the resource depletion because that would be uh- that would be- what’s the word… irresponsible of me but-

Phil: Mhm? 

Wilbur: I’m just saying if you wanna get into trying sand, it’s sooner rather than later. 

[ Phil cackles]

Wilbur: You think- I’m really not- I haven’t spoken a single lie this entire stream. I’ve just been talking the truth and everyone has been getting angry at me. I feel like- I feel like Jesus Christ right now Phil. 

Phil, laughing: Ohhhh-Kay alright. 

Wilbur, now sounding like he’s trying not to smile: I’ve been preaching nothing but the good word

Phil, still dying: Shut- 

Wilbur, very close to smiling: And you’re trying to crucify me. Phil: Shut- Shhhhhhhhhhhhshh. 

Wilbur, almost laughing: You’re tryna hang me on a cross, Phil. Just like the romans, dude. 

Phil: Was this the payoff? Was this the fucking- *Wheeze*

Wilbur, now back to a more calm tone: You’re tryna crucify me. You’re tryna kill Sand Jesus. 

Phil: Okay- 

Wilbur: It’s not a joke. 

Phil, laughing: I can literally hear the smile in your voice. 

Wilbur: I’m not smiling, I’ll turn on my webcam for you Phil. 

Phil, looking at Wilbur off screen: Jesus that’s horrifying. What is this- what is this angle? Oh I saw- *Laughing.*

[ Wilbur starts laughing as well ]

[ Both of them lose it ]

Phil: Oh my god I tipped over my water. I saw it- Okay okay- I’m gonna hang up. He cracked chat he cracked. Ohh fuck. *Wheezing*

[timextoxhajima]

Grounded: Level 7

Level 6 | Level 8

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader, angst cause is it a dana fic if there is no angst

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526​ @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs @yunapixie ​

[P R E S E N T]

Dispatch: TXT’s Yeonjun and BigHit Trainee Rumored to be Dating

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no, indeed.” Ju Rin pulls out the roller chair by the table with the iPad sitting on the wooden surface. 

“We literally just went out to the convenience store and... how do people even know I’m a trainee?”

Ju Rin blinks and rubs her eyes, subtly shrugging. “I don’t know what these people don’t know. Anyway, Bang PD’s already spoken to Yeonjun and I. I don’t know if he needs to speak to you because he knows the two of you aren’t dating, but might I suggest you be mighty careful when you leave the building now?”

“Yeah, sure,” A gentle frown befalls your face. “I just... Don’t really know what else I need to do to keep myself under wraps, you know? What’s gonna happen when our pre-debut photoshoot is released? I’m gonna be shat on by-”

“Hold your horses, now,” Ju Rin sighs and sits up, resting her arms on the table. “Look, BigHit’s going to release a statement denying the rumors tonight. Once that’s done, I doubt there’s much you need to worry about... Or can, rather. It’s not like everybody’s going to love us when we finally debut.”

“Yeonjun’s not gonna get shat on for this, right?”

“He’s probably getting shat on now but that’s not in our control, is it?”

Ju Rin’s look of slight nonchalance drifts to you, and you can’t help but return her worry in the form of furrowed eyebrows and tired eyes. 

“Look, I know you worry for Yeonjun, but he’s fine, believe me. Worry about yourself, and protect your identity first.”

Frustration clouds your head when you dig your fingers into your hair, eyes drifting from the table to Ju Rin. All the things the leader has to take care of, and you haven’t even debuted. 

As if the day couldn’t get anymore unpredictable, the shadow striding across the breadth of the translucent door of the conference room you were just in confuses you even more. 

Ju Rin was a few steps ahead of you, with her hand on the door handle, completely frozen. Then her voice runs through the air in utter disbelief. 

“You should not be here.”

The relaxed black hair is new, but there was no way you wouldn’t recognise that forehead, those brows and those eyes. Shoving your way between her and the frame of the door, you whack him gently on his arm before tugging on his jacket. 

“What the Hell are you doing here?!” Seething through your teeth, the words are strained and you pray that he’ll understand you. 

Ju Rin does not know what happened between Yeonjun and I. 

“You are the last person who should be here!” 

“I just- I wanted to talk to you.”

Minho’s voice is low and muffled with the mask on. 

How the Hell did he even get here without being spotted? Did his manager drive him?

“Jesus, get in,” Ju Rin halts the conversation before it gets any more intense, literally grabbing the materials around your shoulders and yanking you back into the conference room. The door clicks gently behind her as she scans the corridor, you and Minho shooting each other confusing glances. 

Ju Rin sighs heavily once she notices the death glare Minho is offering you. The eyebags beneath his lashes are more obvious than the Dispatch news that erupted all over social media just this morning. 

“I’m going to assume neither of you want me in the room when you have this conversation?”

Minho finally shifts his attention from you to Ju Rin, pupils slowly gravitating toward the ground like he was guilty - no, because he was.

“Does Chan-sunbaenim know you’re here?”

He nods. 

“Did you come alone?”

“My manager dropped me off.”

“Your what-”

Ju Rin quickly shushes you, brows furrowing upon the realisation that him being here must hold more than there is to the eye. 

“Is he coming to pick you up soon?”

“I have 20 minutes- Well, now probably about 15.”

Your fists are sweating and the sweat’s that collecting in the middle of your chest is slowly dampening the rim of your bra. 

“Fine, fine,” Ju Rin regains her composure and waves it off. “15 minutes. Then you better leave before more people find out you’re here.”

“Ju Rin-”

“No,” She holds your hands and pulls you closer, volume just loud enough for you to hear. “You stay and listen to what he has to say. You don’t have to tell me after, but you can if you want to, okay? I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Her hands slide out right beneath yours, and she offers you a reassuring smile before heading for the door, sending Minho one last glance as she closes the door behind her. 

You didn’t even notice how hard your heart is thumping because you were too occupied with trying to read his expression as he removes his mask.

“Minho, what are you-”

“Is it true? The news?”

A frown cements on your forehead. “What? Yeonjun and me? Dating? God, no! What- why would you-”

“Because I know he friendzoned you last year, maybe he realised he messed up and he does reciprocate.”

“I don’t understand why you’re mad about this-”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re not listening to yourself, are you?”

“I swear on God, I am not mad,” He huffs, running his hand through his hair. “I’m just... worried. You haven’t debuted and yet you’ve been swept up in this situation? Then what? Are you expected to cut off all contact with other people? How were you so careless?”

“BigHit’s releasing a statement tonight denying it. Yeonjun knows it’s fake. I know it’s fake. Everybody in this building knows it’s fake. It’s not going to be a problem-”

“You don’t know that. Do you know how careful I was when I just debuted? I didn’t want to drag anybody down with me if I did something wrong-”

“Minho, what are you really here for?” 

He finally shuts up, but his eyes are shaking, it’s scaring you. 

“You’re here just to get back at me for not understanding why you did what you did back then, aren’t you?”

He clenches his jaws and you can see his temples tightening.

“I thought we were past that. I thought the day I sobbed over Yeonjun was a great way for me to say sorry and that I was a complete idiot for being completely absorbed in myself.”

It irks you that he hasn’t said a word since you asked him that tormented question. 

“So you agree,” A slight nod finds your nerves. It feels like the world is against you now. The finish line at your feet, with all the people you thought had your back standing right behind you - only for you to realise that none of it is true. The finish line is slowly inching away, and everybody else is just looking back down at you instead. 

“I thought you were more than whoever I thought you were. I thought-”

“y/n,” The door clicks open, interrupting you. 

“What?! I’m in the middle of something over here-”

“Can you shut the fuck up and listen to him?” Ju Rin’s angry now, and it stuns you. You’ve never seen her angry. 

The anger in your blood is definitely drowning your logic, but you can’t ever prepare yourself for the view of Minho looking like he’s about to burst into a billion tears before you. 

“y/n, I just thought the news was true so I...”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Ju Rin finally steps between the two of you, magnifying your attention to her. “Minho thought it was real and he wanted to come over to ask if it was true, because the dumbass doesn’t want it to be.”

...What?

“What?”

“Look, I came over because I wanted to hear it for myself that the news wasn’t true, okay? I can’t... I can’t swallow it if I knew you were with Yeonjun, and that you chose to do it at a time most detrimental to your future and your career.”

Is this real? Is whatever Minho saying true? Is whatever Ju Rin saying what you think she’s saying? What if this is just another Yeonjun situation, and you make a fool out of yourself?

“No, there’s absolutely no reason why you wouldn’t be able to-”

“I meant it when I said I’ll always be here for you, because I didn’t think- I didn’t think today will come so fast, that I’ll be scared of losing you to someone else, putting me in a position where I can’t even fight for something I want... just because my dream is in the way; just because I’m a celebrity.”

Ju Rin’s shifted herself out from between you, but you didn’t even notice because you’re busy shattering over the look in Minho’s eyes, and he wasn’t even looking at you. 

“You used to need my help and my encouragement when we first met, but it’s different now, and I hate it because... it’ll get in both of our ways, yours especially.”

It sinks into a pool of satin and sad, mopey tears, your heart, when you piece the broken parts together. Broken parts of him that you didn’t even know were broken. 

“You used to need me, but now I need you. And I hate it because I can’t keep you by my side like a normal 23 year old can.”

His knuckles are the shade of the sun on a good day - perfectly white to the human eye - as his grip on the table is starting to tip the entire furniture over. He can’t bring himself to face you, and you understand perfectly why. 

He’s just put a halt to your decision to debut, because that would mean a good few years before you can date and you wouldn’t be completely trashed by the public. And even more importantly, he’s just confessed without knowing if you reciprocated his feelings; without knowing if your heart had ever been placed in his palms. 

But lucky for him, it’s always been in the heart of his palm. He just didn’t know it. 

His pride has been sucked out of him like the Grim Reaper collecting a soul, so you decide to be the one to relief him of his ache and take a few wary steps towards him. The skin on your forearms rub against the material of his jacket as you slowly nestle your head into his shoulder, fingers intertwining behind his lower back. 

“If that’s your way of saying ‘I love you’, then I love you too.”

[niksixx]

Number 73

Requested: Anonymously 

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader 

Description: “Hi it’s Tuesday so can I request a smut oneshot where reader is harsh to Axl cuz she thinks of him as a selfish womanizer, and he thinks she’s cold and pretentious so they’re basically enemies, but deep inside she’s unable to resist his hotness so when she’s with her friend she blurts our that she wants him to f*** her or sth, but actually axl accidentally overhears it and next day becomes her worst(best) day?” 

Warning: Smuuuut 

A/N: Reblog please !

*GIF is NOT mine, found on Google. Credit to the owner!* 

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

“My God, have they come up for air yet?” Y/B/F asks, eyes bugging out of her head.

Without looking, you already know who Y/B/F is talking about. “Let me guess. Blonde. Skinny. Around 5’6, 5’7. Tits squeezed into a shirt that’s too tight.”

“Holy shit,” Duff grins. “Spot on.”

Rolling your eyes, you look over your shoulder, scoffing at how disgustingly accurate your prediction was. The blonde is leaned against the bar, arms wrapped loosely around Axl’s neck as their tongues clash in a heated kiss. Soon, he’d ditch her though, and find the next best thing. That’s just how Axl operated.

“He’s a pig,” you whisper, but Slash hears every word.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say someone is jealous.”

You scoff. “Please. I have respect for myself, you know.”

Just as you suspected, Blondie trickled back to her friends, and Axl was on the prowl. You watch as he sidles up next to a brunette this time, turning on his charm. Their tongues are down each other's throats less than a minute later.

“Man, he’s good,” Izzy pipes up for the first time that night, earning a laugh from his friends and a death stare from his fiance.

Well, at least Axl’s friends weren’t despicable, womanizing assholes. All were dating, engaged, or married. None of them ever felt the need to sleep around, even though they’ve had plenty of chances. But Axl? It sent him on some sort of power trip.

Swirling the straw in your rum and coke, you turn your eyes down at the drink, leaning a cheek on your palm. It’s a shame Axl’s personality was shitty. He was an attractive man who knew how to please a woman. Not that you’d know, but damn if you wouldn’t love to find out.

Twenty minutes later, a drunk Axl falls clumsily into the chair beside you, earning stifled laughs from his bandmates. You roll your eyes and scoot away from him, only to be stopped by his hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Where’re you going?” He smiles lazily at you.

Conveniently, you notice your empty glass and you stand. “Anywhere you’re not.”

Steven hollers loudly as Axl’s jaw immediately tenses up. Shooting him a smirk, you find yourself heading over to the bar, turning in your empty glass and ordering three tequila shots.

“Rough night?” The bartender asks as she places the shot glasses in front of you.

You groan. “You have no idea.”

The shot glass touches your lips but before you have the chance to taste the bitter liquid, a man pushes his way through the crowd, nearly knocking into you, before settling himself beside you at the bar. “I’ll take three of whatever she’s having,” Axl flauts a fifty dollar bill in his hand, sending a wink to the bartender before smirking down at you.

“Charming,” you say, downing the tequila. It burns, and you kick yourself for not ordering a few limes to go with it.

“I know, I know,” Axl gloats. “It’s one of my best traits.”

“Clearly you lack the capacity to understand sarcasm.”

Axl grabs his first glass, drinking the liquid with ease. “And clearly you lack the ability to be nice. What’s your problem, hm? You always have this stuck up, bitchy attitude. I promise you, sweetheart,” Axl’s face is dangerously close to yours, and you pray he can’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks. “You’re not all that.”

“Oh, and you are?” On a normal day, you’d let Axl’s comments roll off your shoulders. The highlight of his day would be insulting you, teasing you, and irritating the fuck out of you. And somehow he always got to you before you could say anything back. This time, though, you’re determined to stand your ground and speak the fuck up.

“Of course I am. Take a good look at who I am, angel,” Axl holds out his arms as if he believes you’ll actually admire him. “I’m Axl fucking Rose for shit’s sake. Rock legend, millionaire, ladies man.”

“Actually,” You lean closer to him, finger rimming the shot glass. “You wanna know what I really think of you?”

“Enlighten me,” he says, teeth biting the corner of his bright pink lip. “Tell me everything I want to hear.”

“I think,” you whisper, body slightly pressing against his side. His eyes are dark, lustful, and they betray him. “That you’re a selfish, stuck up prick that never got any attention as a child, and that’s why you crave it now. You have commitment issues, which is why you’re a shag ‘em and leave ‘em type of guy. You’re a womanizing bastard and you know no woman would ever willingly choose to be with someone like you, and that is why your life revolves around sex. Sex is the only way women give you attention. And that,” your lips graze his ear. “Is truly fucking pathetic.”

Axl stares angrily as you down the second shot, staring back at him with such animosity burning in your eyes, he almost believes you truly hate him. But the hatred in your eyes is mixed with something else, and he can’t quite figure it out. As he replays your words over in his head, it hits him.

Jealousy.

Axl isn’t prepared for the next words that come out of his mouth, but he takes a shot of tequila anyway for courage. “And I think,” he creeps closer to your body, maneuvering around the tight crowd so your back is pressed against the bar, trapping you in his arms. “That you are so beyond jealous that I haven’t fucked you yet.”

Your eyes nearly roll out of your head as Axl laughs at your expression. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Axl prodes, eyes flickering to your lips. For a moment it seems as if he’s going to kiss you. “If I said let’s go back to my house right now, what would you say?”

“I’d say fuck no.”

“Riiiight,” he taunts, inching closer to your face. “And you actually think I believe that?”

“You should,” You briefly turn in his arms to finish the third shot before turning back, chest heaving, thoughts racing, pussy throbbing. He’s dangerously close and you need to get out of there, and fast, before you act on your thoughts. “Because I would never fuck someone whose dick has been shoved in about twenty different girls.”

“More like seventy-two, but who’s keeping track?” Axl winks, backing up to set you free.

Stomach twisting, you shoot Axl the most disgusted look you could manage. “You’ve had sex with seventy-two women?”

“And counting,” He grins, eyes racking your body. “Wanna be number seventy-three?”

~

One too many tequila shots later, you’re stumbling down the street with Y/B/F right behind you. The liquor had hit when you least expected, and tequila mixed with anger was a deadly combination.

“Seventy-two women!” You shout, leaning on a nearby pole to regain your balance. “He’s fucked seventy-two women,” your chuckle is empty, “And he...and he asked me, me! If I wanted to be...be his number seventy-three.”

“Does that surprise you?” Y/B/F asks. “You said it yourself. He’s a pig.”

“I know and it’s even worse because I’d love nothing more than to be number seventy-three!” Axl hit the nail on the head when he called you out for being jealous. You weren’t just jealous. No, observing his hookups with random girls and hearing stories about them the next day was infuriating. You’d never even been a choice to him.

“You don’t mean that,” says Y/B/F, helping you off the pole. “You’re just a little too drunk.”

“No, Y/B/F, I’m serious.” The purse in your hand slaps against your thigh, free hand smacking your forehead. “I’ve wanted him for years, but I’ve never been good enough. I don’t want to date him or anything, I know he’s not really into that, but goddamn it can’t a woman get a little hate sex in her life? I hate him, he can’t stand me. It’s the perfect fuck.”

Y/B/F grabs your hand, rolling their eyes as they help you inside a cab. “Jesus, Y/N, quiet down before someone hears you.”

But it was too late for that, as just a few paces away Axl stood in the back alley of the bar, phone lifted to his ear, cigarette hanging from his mouth as it narrowed in a smirk. You wanted hate sex? Oh, he’d give just that.

~

As you sit on your couch, TV on low volume, book in your lap, you try to ignore the aches in your body. As you discovered this morning just by emptying your guts into the toilet, tequila was not your friend. This hangover was the worst one you’d had, and even though it was your fault you’d drank too much, you’d subconsciously blame Axl for making you so hot and bothered, you felt drowning yourself in liquor was the only way to handle it.  

There’s a knock on your front door and luckily you’d kept it unlocked. You had no intention of moving from the couch other than to go to the bathroom. “It’s open!”

Your eyes don’t leave the page in front of you, too engrossed in the scene playing out, until the all familiar voice has you slowly looking up from the book. “You look like shit.”

“Always the charmer, eh, Axl?” Snapping your book shut, you chuck it beside you, pulling the blanket to your chin. “What do you want?”

Your pupils dilate as Axl pulls his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Wandering eyes run over his chest. He’s not like other men. He doesn’t have hard pectorals or the outline of six pack abs, and you like that about him. You also like that he’s standing in front of you shirtless, but you don’t have a guess as to why. “Two words. Hate sex.”

Your breath hitches as he moves toward you. Instinctively, you shoot off the couch. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about, but you need to get out of here right now.”

“Cute shorts,” Axl gestures to the soft gray pajama bottoms that are two sizes too short, the curve of your ass peeking out, giving him a show. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You move around the couch, Axl watching you like his prey. His thumbs are hooked around the belt loops on his jeans as he shuffles his feet along the floor.

“I was drunk,” you admit, eyes flitting around the room, looking at anything other than the man in front of you.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” He says back, folding his arms across his chest. “I know you’re not a huge fan of me. I don’t particularly like you either. But what I do like is sex,” The bulge in his pants hardens, and you beg yourself not to look. “So, how about it, sweetheart?”

You hate the effect he has on you. He knows you want him, he knows he has total control over you now. But you can’t give into him. You won’t. “Get out.”

His demeanor falls briefly, as if maybe he’d read you wrong. “Are you serious?”

“I said get out, Axl.” Walking around the couch, you position yourself in front of him, lightly pushing his chest. “Now.”

He doesn’t budge. “You’re joking.”

“I said get out.”

His head tilts, but he backs up slowly. You follow him toward the door, heart thumping against your chest. Fucking hell, this was your chance! Why were you kicking him out?

“So last night was just a lie,” Axl responds, pursing his lips.

“No, Axl, it wasn’t a fucking lie,” Again, you shove his chest. “I want you. I really fucking want you. But for the six years we’ve known each other, you’ve never given me so much as a fucking wink. For some reason, I’ve never been good enough for you to fuck.”

“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it?” Axl taunts, shoulder leaning against the doorframe. “I knew you were jealous. And I’ve got to be honest, it looks hot on you.”

“Just go, Axl.”

“You don’t want me to go,” his voice is low, raspy, and if he doesn’t leave now, you may just pull him back in. “I know you don’t.”

“Axl, goddamn it--.”

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into his body, lips molding against yours. His lips feel just as you imagined. Warm and soft.

He moves them against your mouth with such expertise it was easy to let him guide you. With his free hand he shuts the door behind him as you cling to his body, locking your arms behind his head.

His tongue explores your mouth, claiming you with each sweep of his tongue. He sucks your bottom lip and a moan escapes you. He kisses like an angel, but he’s anything but.

Axl’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. He whispers “jump” into your mouth and you do, legs locking around his waist, never breaking the kiss. Heat crackles between the two of you, and you’re overwhelmed with the need to feel his skin.

Axl walks the two of you back into the living room, gently lying you on the couch. His lips disconnect from yours and you groan in want, but his lips find their way to your neck and you relax.

“So needy,” he whispers against the base of your throat. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt. “This is in the way.” In a swift motion, Axl rids you of your shirt, running the tip of my tongue over each of your nipples. They perk, and he smirks before closing his lips around the bud, flicking his tongue and softly biting the peaks. Arching your back forces more of your breast in his mouth, and you hook a leg around his waist, bucking your hips upward. “I need you.”

“Be a good girl and wait,” He demands, licking and kissing a line down your belly. He stops at your shorts, kissing your navel once before slowly dragging the shorts down your legs. He kisses the top of your underwear line, lowering his head until his mouth hovers above your clothed center, gently kissing the fabric. Your hips thrust upward in a frenzy. “Touch me, please.”

He says nothing as he takes his time pulling down your underwear. It’s been months since you’d been intimate, and the shyness takes over. Your legs try to squeeze shut, but Axl pushes them back open again. “You’re not hiding from me. I’ll stare at your pussy all day if I want to.”

His tongue licks a stripe up your center before disappearing between your silky folds. Wetness gathers between your thighs and he laps at it, sending a shutter of pleasure throughout your body. He licks and licks, using the tip and flattening his tongue, but what sends you over the edge is his lips sucking your clit into his mouth.

Your toes are curling and your chest is heaving. You do your best to suck in heaps of air, but you can’t focus on breathing as his tongue swirls around your clit.

You want to watch him. Back resting against the couch pillow, you hold yourself up on your elbows just in time to see Axl spit on your pussy. His thumb spreads the saliva across your clit, flicking it rather quickly.

His middle finger slides into your hole, wetness coating the digit as it pumps in and out of your folds. Axl adds his ring finger next, using his free hand to spread you open more. “So tight, sweetheart. Gotta loosen you up a bit so you can take my cock.”

You moan at the vulgarness of his words. This what exactly how you’d pictured sex with Axl. The dirty talk. The fingering. The gentle licks on your clit. This is what you’d been fucking wait for.

Your head falls back as his tongue finds your pussy again, the sensation of his fingers and tongue making your head fall back. “Fuck, fuck, Axl.”

“Yes, baby, I’m gonna fuck you.”

Cold air hits your clit as Axl pulls back, hands finding his jeans and pulling them down his legs. He kicks them off to the side, eyes locking with yours as he fists himself through his boxers. You reach out for him but he slaps your hand away, sliding the boxers down his thighs. His cock springs to life, thankful to not be constricted any longer. He’s long and hard with a few veins on the underside, and you whimper at the sight of precum that dribbles down the head. “Sit up.”

At that point, you’ll do anything he says. Axl sits, hand stroking his dick as you crawl over him, positioning your pussy directly over his cock. You lower yourself a bit, clit brushing against the soft head, and even Axl moans this time. His hands grab your hips, and together you lower yourself down, stifling a cry as his dick forces itself inside your hole, stretching your walls.

Axl’s mouth falls open as you sink yourself lower onto his cock. His hands never leave your hips, but instead aids in the bouncing of your ass against his thighs as you maneuver yourself up and down, up and down. Your tits are perched perfectly in front of him and he licks his lips in delight as he captures a nipple, swirling his tongue in circles.

Your body explodes in pleasure, from the tongue on your breasts to the dick burying itself in your cunt. Hands on Axl’s chest, you balance yourself over top of him, slightly craning your head back to watch as his cock slides in and out of your slick pussy.

Axl’s hand grips your face, turning you back to face him. “This is what you wanted?” He grunts out, hips thrusting upward to meet your hips. “You wanted me to fuck you like a whore?”

Your toes curl. Your legs squeeze against his thighs. Your head falls forward against his, breath fanning over his face as his hand squeezes your jawline. This is all you wanted, and even if you had to wait six years for it, it was worth it.

“Come on, ride my cock.” He grunts harshly as your hips pound against his legs, riding his dick as if there were no tomorrow. Like your life depended on it.

Your pussy clenches around him, and that all too familiar bubble in the pit of your belly only grows as Axl continues his pounding into you. He thrusts at lightning speed, and you’re so caught off guard you reach for the back of the couch, holding on as he fucks the daylights out of you.

“Axl! Shit, shit,” His balls slap against your underside, arms wrapping around your middle to steady you against him. “I’m gonna--fuck I’m--coming!”

Your thighs shake violently as you come, juices spilling out of your pussy, dripping down your legs, and puddling on Axl’s thighs. His load shoots into you and he pulls your forward, nuzzling his face between your breasts, breathing hard. With every twitch of his cock, you moan a little louder.

You close your eyes, steadying your breath as you come down from your sex high. Axl licks his lips, eyes trained on your mouth, and you lean in to kiss him, but your lips never meet as he pulls back.

“This can’t happen again.”

The words stun you as he slides his cock out of you. He stands from the couch, pulling on his boxers and pants before pulling his shirt down over his head, leaving you to process his words. This can’t happen again. Why the hell not?

“Wait, what?” You shoot off the couch, flustered and completely naked. Axl’s eyes run up and down your body, and you can see it in his face, he wants you. But something is holding him back. “I just had the best fucking day of my life, and you tell me it’ll never happen again?”

He shrugs, finishing the button on his jeans. There’s something sad in his eyes, and your heart breaks. “I don’t fuck the same girl twice.”

He turns, and you chase after him. Axl just gets to the door before you grab his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at you. “So that’s fucking it? You’re just going to leave?”

Axl nods, biting the corner of his mouth. “One and done, sweetheart. That’s all I can offer you.”

“But,” you stutter, unable to control the tears pricking your eyes. “But I thought-.”

“That fucking you would be different?” He asks, swallowing nervously as the tears in your eyes break free. Damn it. He wanted to be gone before the waterworks started. “That I’d want to be with you? We’re enemies, Y/N. Our personalities clash. You’re a bitch and I’m...well...you were right. I’m a bastard that only wants sex. You were never an exception,” Axl blows out a breath and watches as your face falls dejectedly. “You were just number seventy-three.”

[kindness-bliss]

New Beginnings Ch. 11

Timothy Thatcher x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Tim looked outside as he watched them drive off and rubbed his face and leaned against the wall and watched them all walk towards him. “I know, I know”

“Do you though ? Do you ?” Candice spat out “What in the absolute fuck were you thinking ? What happened ?”

“I just...I couldn’t handle the alcohol, it hit me all at once and then next thing I knew whats her face shoved her tongue down my throat and then...I was the one who initiated it” he admitted quietly “I was the one who took her to the bathroom to…to do that” Tim said not even being able to say the words

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?!” Oney demanded

Tim shook his head as he debated throwing himself in front of a moving car to end his never ending misery “Guys, Candice please”  “No, answer us” Johnny said sternly “Before we all take turns beating the absolute shit out of you, granted Maya clearly did a great job as we can tell by your slight limp and broken bruised nose you shit head !”  

 “Guys !” Tim exclaimed frustrated as he threw his hands down

“So you see her having a good time with us and Marcel so you decide to fuck someone in a bathroom at her own party when you claimed you were heartbroken and wanted her for yourself ? Instead of being a man and pulling her aside you do that ? To Maya, the legit most nicest and genuine person ?” Oney asks

“Oney….” “No I wanna know, I wanna know what it the absolute fuck went through your head when you decided to pull that shit ?” he repeated “This is a girl who liked you, spent 6 months sad over you while you couldn’t even answer a simple text message or call, you acted like a little bitch for 6 months moaning and complaining when you had absolutely no right to. She reached out, she called, left voicemails and sent text messages to you every fucking day for a month straight and you chose not to respond yet you get pissy because you see her enjoy herself with Marcel and all of us, you get jealous seeing her have fun. You’re bitter” he finally says “You’re nothing but a bitter child stuck inside a 38 year old man's body and you don’t deserve Maya. You don’t deserve her kindness nor her love and care because despite her being all lovey with Marcel tonight everyone here can see she wanted you, she craves you and that’s really fucking sad. But I think it’s time we don’t let that happen, it’s time we as her friends don’t let a 25 year old fall for a 38 year old bitter, disrespectful asswipe.”    Tim stood there in silence, swallowing the small amount he had left of pride. For Oney whom he had known for years to reprimand him he knew just how deep and bad shit really was.   “Yeah stay quiet buck teeth” Johnny muttered as he pushed past him with Candice and Fabian “Chipped teeth...not buck teeth” Fabian corrected quietly as he waited with them for an uber turning back when Johnny, Candice and Oney weren’t looking and giving him the finger ***** “Your place, not mine” Maya whispered meekly “I wanna be with you in your space, not mine”  “Anything you want” Marcel said softly as he noticed her holding his hand tightly in hers. This wasn’t in any way what he wanted for them, especially not for her. He felt disgusted as he drove thinking of how broken she must’ve been seeing that.    “I just wanna be with you, anywhere with you” she said quietly as she stared out her window “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay” He nodded as he blinked away tears, emotional at hearing her words as he pulled into his apartment building and helped her out   She let out a small shaky breath as she held his hand and walked with him towards the elevator taking off Fabian’s suit jacket as she handed it over “You can give this to him when you see him again, it was extremely kind of him”   “I will” he said softly as he pressed the button and stood with her with looming silence as the elevator took them up to his apartment   “I hate him” she said suddenly “and I’m sorry for everything that I did and said to you while being enamored with him, you didn’t deserve any of that from me”  

 “Maya, no. Don’t say that, listen things happened tonight and I really think tomorrow you two should talk I can call him over and-”

“No” she answered sternly as she shot him a look full of hurt and anger “It ends here, it dies here. He doesn’t exist to me and that’s that”   Marcel simply nodded as he didn’t push the topic any further and walked with her as he opened the door with his key and went to his bedroom to pull out a shirt and sweatpants for her and changed into his usual basketball shorts   

“Thanks” she whispered as she stripped down in the bathroom and threw them on immediately taking in his scent and feeling an immense feel of comfort

  “You didn’t eat” he said softly “let me get you some cereal at least, you still like lucky charms and almond milk ?”   Maya gave a soft grin as she nodded “Yeah...yeah I do, you still remember”

“Of course I do,” Marcel chuckled. “I remember all your likes and dislikes, what shows you love and hate, the fact that you need to sleep on the side by the wall, how you only like your eggs scrambled but never over easy. I remember it all”

 She walked over and looked up at him as he caressed his cheek with her hand “You truly never forgot, you remember and you’re always there for me”

“I always will be, no matter what” he whispered as he touched her hand “As much as I’d like to kiss you, I think you should eat and get in bed, you look exhausted as can be. You need proper rest” Maya nodded as she sat at his table and ate the bowl he served in front of her. It softened her seeing Marcel care so much about her and something about this made her see him in a different light. He wasn’t the vain wrestler who was into himself, he was the man she fell in love with 3 years ago who taught everything there was to know about love.   “What’s going through your head ?” He asked finally “You can be honest with me, I know you still like him a lot judging by how you reacted tonight”  “Marcel...it’s not like that” she explained “It was a shock, that was it. It was just purely shock but just...I don’t wanna talk about it anymore okay ? Can we just stop it please ?”    “Absolutely” he nodded as he picked up her plate “Let’s get to bed”  She nodded and followed as she laid down and scooted close towards him, going beneath his arm as she snuggled up and looked up at him caressing his cheek with her hand    “Hi” he whispered as he gave a soft grin  Maya looked in his eyes and sat up as she cradled his face and kissed him deeply “That’s what I wanted to do all night”   “I-I…wow” Marcel whispered as he licked his lips “That was just, did-did you just kiss me, is this a dream ?”   Maya chuckled as she rolled her eyes “Wow, way to ruin a moment. I’m trying to be romantic over here and do something”   “I’m just shocked is all….you like me ? As in like me more than a friend ?”   “I do” she admits “I really do, these last 6 months you’ve been there for me in so many ways and you’ve made my life so much better. It’s been hard you know ?”   “I do,” Marcel whispered, “But this isn’t exactly how I pictured things working out at all, it’s not how I wanted things to be. I wanted something nice and calm and a bit more romantic” She laughed as she shook her head “Listen life isn’t a fairytale and as much as we’d like to be it’s best just to not expect much and go with the flow. I for one can admit tomorrow I’m probably gonna be hungover and emotional just letting you know ahead   “I’ll be here with you” He pet her cheek as he watched her finally drift to sleep “I’ll always be here with you..” ****  “Well well if it isn’t my favorite student” Eli grinned as he opened the door into the room at the performance center “You’re bright and early Thatch, love when my worst promo student shows up early to class” he laughed Tim rolled his eyes and sat down “Not today alright ? Just get on with the private class so I can go home already” “Not even a death stare or shove today ? Something really must have you down” He raised a brow as he grabbed a chair and sat in front of him “Tell me”    “You haven’t heard ?,” Tim asked surprised. “It’s literally everywhere by now, seriously go check your phone or ask your girlfriend Alli. She has to know” Eli furrowed his brow, taking out his phone and putting it on speaker as he dialed “Baby, hey ! Um have you heard anything about something going down at EVE nightclub in downtown Orlando last night ?”   “Oh my god, yes ! So remember Maya ? Maya Dawson ? The girl we met during one of your commercial shoots in LA and had dinner with a few weeks ago ?” Alli asked not even giving him a chance to answer “Well she apparently had a thing with that one loner dude Tim you work with for a hot minute but nothing serious from what I’ve heard, like not instagram official or anything. All she told me was that they made out a few times but nothing too much”  Eli nodded as he listened “Oh wow, I didn’t know that. Okay go on….” “So they broke up because she didn’t tell him she was engaged prior to that really cute German dude with the blue eyes who happens to be friends with Tim. Drama ensues, she tells me over brunch he never bothered to respond to anything she sent for 6 whole months and she’s back with Marcel on “friendly terms” well she got that Maxim cover and had a big party last night which we got invited but obviously couldn’t go and well...Tim shows up, gets drunk and fucks none other than Kara Smith in the bathroom of the club ! THE Kara Smith !” Alli exclaimed loudly shaking her head disgusted  “NO ! No fucking way ! Um baby, I gotta call you back !” Eli’s eyes widened as he hung up and looked at Tim “You didn’t…. tell me she’s just somehow dramatizing shit”   “How the hell does Alli know everything ?” Tim asked “This is weird, this is why I stay away from social media, this isn’t normal”   Eli scowled “Jesus christ, you fucked Kara Smith and got away with it. That woman has had it out for Maya for the last year, all because miss bleach blonde can’t stand Maya’s more popular, she’s like 33 having it out against a 25 year old. You literally slept with her worst enemy, how drunk were you ?”   “Don’t even remind me” he rubbed his face “I literally am the most hated man in this building, I walked in and immediately it looked like I was gonna get jumped”   “And here I thought I was the whore yet I’ve been in a loving relationship for over a year” Eli chuckled “I can’t believe you man, who does that ?”   Tim shook his head “I don’t even know how to fix this, or even talk to her” “Don’t” Eli answered “Let her be, this isn’t something women get over fast or ever actually, you’re gonna have to suffer man. And quite frankly you deserve it”   He sighed and got up “I’m going home, I don’t feel like being here and quite frankly I don’t wanna hear anymore about how I fucked up”   “Since everyone hates you but me just come to my place” he offered “Alli won’t care, plus I’m done here I was just waiting for you to show up”  Sure it may have been a pity offer but Tim took it with no hesitation “Alright, I’ll drive behind you” he nodded as they both left ****   Maya stirred as she fluttered her eyes open checking her phone for the time, groaning when she saw it was only 8 am , leaning her head back against Marcel's arm as she turned her head and caressed his cheek lightly with her finger tips. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips taking in all his features, his cheek bones, his soft skin, his chiseled jawline, his defined lips. Everything she loved about him standing out to her as she gulped and moved her hand onto his chest as she kissed him once again slightly deeper, looking into his deep blue eyes once they opened    “Maya ?” he whispered as he pet her cheek, slightly confused as she had kissed him. Confused she had initiated their physical contact rather than him like it had always been   “Hey” she whispered back “I want you….” Maya finally said “I want you now”  As soon as she said those words he leaned in and kissed her ,gently flipping them around so she was on her back as he laid above her and kissed down her neck listening to her loud moans. It had been years since they were together, years since they had last had any kind of physical contact like this.    Maya groaned as she felt his hand down her sweats at her core “t-take them off” Marcel did as told, watching her as he moved his fingers in circular motions, breathing deeply as she kissed along his jaw and removed his shirt. He took his time as he continued to kiss focusing on her breasts feeling her arch her back slightly   “I can’t, please...now” she whimpered “please”  “Are you sure ?” “Yes” she nodded “I’ve been been so sure of something before, yes” He kissed her deeply as he guided himself into her and thrusted in slowly, feeling her nails dig into his shoulder blades “Is it okay ?” “Perfect” she nodded as she hands caressed his face “So perfect, I...I had forgotten how good you feel, how this feels”  Marcel gave a soft grin as he kissed her once again and picked up the pace, holding one hip with his hand as he found a perfect rhythm not keeping his eyes off of hers  She cradled his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips arching her back off the mattress and into his body as far as she could feeling the need getting closer and closer  “I’m so close, so fucking close” “Fuck you feel so good” he moaned as he swallowed a deep gulp “Every part of you feels amazing, god I missed you so fucking much Maya, so much”  “Marcel...I can’t hold, I can’t” she whimpered as she felt his hot breath in the crook of her neck He pulled out slightly and pushed back in giving a few more hard thrusts as he picked up the pace and felt her walls clench against him   “Fuck….” she cried out as she came with him wrapping her arms around neck, riding out what was left of their orgasm with him  Marcel collapsed on top of her as he felt her chest rise up and down, her fingers gently playing with his hair

“You okay ?” she asked softly as she lazily kissed his forehead

“I’ve never ever been better” he lifted his chin and looked into her eyes “I haven’t felt like this in a long long time” “Neither have I” she admitted with a smile “Just like old times….”

Marcel blushed at the memories “You mean when we almost got caught by my brother at my mothers house ?”

“And just like that the romance is once again gone” Maya chuckled as she sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover herself 

Marcel laughed as he held her hand in his and kissed it “Now, don’t call me cheesy but….will you be my girlfriend...again ?” “After an orgasm like that ? Of course” she joked as she kissed “But honestly, yes. I would love to”

He let out a sigh of relief as he kissed her back “Things are gonna be good, I promise you that”  

 “No promises” she whispered against his lips “Let’s take it day by day, no pressures no nothing. Just us being together”. She cuddled up against his chest, listening to his heart beat as she dozed back to sleep in his hold ***** “Tim, this is my girlfriend Alli” Eli grinned as he introduced them “Baby, this is Tim”

“I’m loner dude Tim” he said as he offered his hand with a small grin, retracting it when he received a stare back

 “You’ll have to excuse her…women sticking together and that whole thing” he whispered lowly as he sat with him    “May I offer you something to drink as dinner gets closer to being ready ?” Alli asked “Water, Coffee, tea, soda...a condom” she muttered under her breath   “Alli...” Eli looked up at her “Come on, the guy knows he messed up let’s let him not feel like crap for a bit”   “I wanna hear it all, all of it. Not one detail left behind” she scowled as she set the table “Come eat” Tim sighed as he got up and sat and told them everything, everything from how to they had met to their first fight, to finding out the truth and to the previous night  

“So here I am now, hated by 95% of people at the performance center and with a brand new reputation now so yeah life’s great” Eli turned to Alli who had the same expression he had as they both looked at Tim, Alli being the first to speak as she sipped her wine and let out a deep breath “Tim, do you realize you’re in love ?”   “Yeah” he answered quietly, putting his fork down “I do, I realized it last night when I felt myself get angry when I saw her with Marcel enjoying herself. I wasn’t angry because I was jealous or felt possessive, I was angry because she wasn’t with me” Tim admits “because she wasn’t by my side enjoying herself with me and because in that moment it hit me that I majorly messed up. That I was an idiot who let 6 months go by all because I had to be right, I had the need to be in the right when I was in the wrong” “Deep shit” Eli nodded sighing “I just, I just really think you gotta let things cool down for a bit but also send her a text, do what she did to you all those months ago but in your case don’t stop. Do it till you get some kind of response back”  “Or maybe not” Alli said softly as she looked at her phone and showed Eli “Oh…” Tim looked up “what ? what happened ?”,  he looked as Alii gave Eli a nod and moved his eyes towards her phone. A soft breath escaping his lips as he stared at the image in front of him, a picture of Marcel and Maya’s hands intertwined via his IG account  marcel.barthel.wwe “Matching and hand holding with my favorite girl❤️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨”

“Back together I see” Tim nodded “Well that’s perfectly fine, it’s their right” “I’m gonna um load the dish washer” Alli grinned as she got up quickly and left to the kitchen, Eli following shortly behind her   “Be right back man” he coughed leaving his phone behind on the table Tim looked around as he picked up the phone and unlocked it easily with Eli’s birthday, sure it was wrong as hell but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He quickly went to the instagram app and looked up Marcel’s profile, shaking his head when he saw everyone comment @candicelerae omg love birds ! I can’t handle the cuteness, double date soon please 😍 @thejohnnygargano what she said👆🏻, also u 2 make me wanna puke (in a good way) @indihartwell my other mom and dad, so cute 💕 @fabian.aichnerwwe so I take it you’re gonna take his gym pics now ? @wwestardestroyer I swear if you guys don’t get a damn room already 🤮🤮🤮 “Jerks” Tim muttered as he put the phone down and crossed his arms. Perhaps this was the end of good things for him, or maybe just this once he’d get out of his own shell and go for it. 

[prurientpuddlejumper]

F N V

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Had to go digging into fics I vaguely remember liking to find something XD idk if it's my favorite? but I am fond of using dominance/humiliation to build up a sub's confidence in themselves. It's always sort of unexpected and sweet. So I'm proud of this Chilton pegging scene [nsfw under the cut]

“You were trying to prove you were better than everyone today, weren’t you?” you leaned over him and hissed in his ear as you thrust.

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice strained and panting, so close to his release. He was drooling onto the blanket.

“What have I told you about being humble?”

“To… try it?” he struggled to answer as you thrust into him harder, his hips rocking to push against your thrusts, deepening the penetration.

“That’s right. Because you’re not better than anyone else, are you?”

“…No,” the answer tore from his throat in a shameful gasp.

You sank your teeth into his shoulder, and he cried out with pain and pleasure. “You’re a dirty slut who likes to be dominated, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes.”

“And you’re perfect just as you are and don’t need to prove anything to anyone, aren’t you?”

“Ye—” he almost answered, but then his hips stuttered in their movement and stopped.

“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His hips began to move again as his confusion cleared, meeting yours as they crashed against his ass.

“I think you’re perfect,” you smiled, feeling his muscles tense as his climax neared. “And you would never contradict me, would you?”

“Never.”

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

hahaha yesss, all of them XD

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh god. Right now, Forgive and Forget by @writefasttalkevenfaster because that one... Jesus. That one broke me. And I have been running painfully angsty scenarios through my head of how that relationship could ever be repaired... because it can't be. But god. They still love each other so much, but she also hates him. Part of her will always hate him for abandoning her when she needed him most.

Part of her will always remember him walking in, being so relieved because he was going to save her, and then he just walks away. Lets it keep happening for god knows how long. The DA smirking down at her because he knows nothing is going to get in the way now. Laughing about it because he has a witness for the defense if she ever tried to come forward.

And yeah, she understands that. She could forgive the misunderstanding, but then to have Barba shut her out? To not listen to her when she tried to disclose? When she was terrified no one would believe her and the one person closest to her won't even listen. To have to recover all on her own. Losing her love at the same time as going through that trauma?

Fuck.

Yeah, she hates him. Part of her thinks about getting back together with him now that he understands. Now that he's finally listening, and it's heartbreaking. He's sobbing and begging for forgiveness, and she just wants to hold him, and tell him its ok. To feel the familiar warmth of his body in her arms, the smell of his hair, his lips on her neck... It was all a misunderstanding, right? Everything can just... go back to normal now.

But there's no way to erase what he did. Those months of letting her suffer when she needed his support. As much as she wants to hold him in her arms, the impulse to slap him is just as strong. To hurt him like he hurt her. To let him cry all alone, and sneer, "How does it feel?"

They get close during the trial. He does everything as a witness to support her, help her find the best legal counsel. And that same spark is there, the chemistry between them. She misses him. He's throwing himself at her feet because he feels so guilty. And it's so tempting to take him back.

But that impulse to hurt him is still there. That hatred. The memory of how he wronged her. She forgives him--in theory. But it can't stop the bitter memories of that DA smirking as he pinned her down, after Barba walked away. The outside of his locked door as she broke down crying.

Being with him again wouldn't be healthy for either of them.

It's over. No way to repair it.

Barba begs her, if she still loves him, then he doesn't care if she hurts him. If she lashes out at him for what he did. He wants her to take it all out on him--he deserves it.

But she knows better. She can't. She doesn't want to hurt him, and he doesn't deserve it, but she will. Because there's no undoing the past. There's no getting over that kind of betrayal. No matter how much she forgives him, or loves him, or wants things to go back to how they were. There's no taking it back.

gsdfgsfgsfgfsf faaack.

[imlostinsantacarla]

@the-outsiders-blogg​ this is for you! if anyone’s wondering where the inspiration for this random ass imagine came from, there it is ➡ here. anyways i hope enjoy this! - admin kat 🌙❣

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Darry Interrogating Sodapop and Ponyboy Over Milk Being Put in the Cupboard Headcanons:

° So this all starts one sunny morning when Darry’s punk ass is looking for the milk in the fridge before work bc he finally wants some fucking cereal man. But he can’t find the milk. So he goes looking in the cupboard for a plate to put his toast on, bc Darry’s bland and likes that shit dry asff!

° Which leads him to find the milk in the cupboard and ma boii goes off!

° “Soda! Pony! Which one you idiots put the milk in the cupboard?” Darry hollers from the open cupboard in the kitchen. He’s dumbfounded, his kid brothers are fools!

° “What do you mean, Dar?” Soda inquires, damp wheat colored hair being combed into its usual hairstyle whilst he waltzes into the kitchen with a cocked brow.

° “Did you hear me stutter?” Darry deadpans, icy eyes glowering into Sodapop’s.

° “No, seriously! What are you talkin’ about, Dar?” Ponyboy asks before biting into the reddest apple you’ve ever seen. The kid looks honestly so baffled.

° “This isn’t funny! One of you guys did it, so fess up! The milks off now because of the heatwave. I swear if you admit it I won’t be mad.” Darry turns to face the boys, large hands articulating his speech.

° “You’re already mad, dammit!” Soda states, a smile creeping on his face because he honestly cannot believe that Darry’s bitching about milk right now.

° “Yeah, it wasn’t us.” Ponyboy mumbles with a mouthful of apple. Though to be fair, he’s kinda shitting it whilst looking at Sodapop because maybe… just maybe one of them did put the milk in the cupboard instead of the fridge? He has a distinct faint image in his head of the milk jug going into the cupboard, but was it him or Soda?

° Soda’s like ‘lol same’ mentally and just shares a look of uncertainty with Pony for a moment before turning to look at their eldest brother who looks totally done with their shit.

° “Listen, I can’t be wasting my damn money on milk when you two dumb fucks keep pullin’ stupid shit like this!” Oh, Darry’s mad!

° “Darry, honestly, we didn’t do shit! Why would we-” Soda’s kinda getting miffed at this point because like wtf? Man, maybe he did do it, but is he gonna admit this shit? Hell no! He’s questioning himself mentally, ‘Am I really that dumb? I mean, I know I dropped out and all…’

° “Don’t you get mouthy with me, you damn shit!” Darry’s red in the face, pointing a finger at Soda.

° “Listen, I’ll buy you some damn milk, Super Dope!” Steve interjects exasperated by how stupid this argument is.

° “What’d you just fucking call me?!” Darry slams his fist on the counter, getting ready to square tf up to Steve. Lmaoo Steve can’t help but laugh under his breath.

° “Darry, he’s right! It’s not a big deal, we can get some more milk.” Pony mumbles quietly, his eyes evading his eldest brother’s in fear he was gonna go off on a tangent again. Although Pony hated Steve, he really didn’t want to see the guy get his two front teeth knocked out over some damn milk.

° “Pony, I don’t wanna hear it! It was either you or Soda, and it’s about the principal of putting the damn milk away like a normal person! Use your damn head for once!” Darry snaps, this is clearly more than just some damn milk. I mean, Pony didn’t even think that cereal was even that good. Pony thought Darry should just stick to his tar-like coffee and get on going to his work by now.

° “Hey! How’re you so certain that is was me and Pony that did it, huh? Pony uses his damn head real swell, Dar and you know it!” Soda’s now pointing fingers at Darry now, it’s like an episode of Modern Family lmaoo.

° “I don’t have time for this and stop getting mouthy, kid!” Darry’s so exasperated that he walks out bc lol his ass is gonna be late for work now.

° The screen door just slams shut and Two-bit is sat on his backside with a beer by his side and a whole damn chocolate cake in his lap and the rest of the gang is like, “What?!”.

° “Man, I thought I put that in the fridge!” Two-bit grins widely.

° "And you didn't say anything?!" Pony and Soda cry in unison, staring at their beloved prankster of a friend with a look that could most certainly kill.

° “Two, how drunk are you right now on a scale of one to ten?” Steve quips with a scowl on his face. He almost got his teeth knocked out because of this idiot!

° “Pretty fucking drunk to pull a dumb fucking move like that, Steve. Why’re you even askin’ him that for?” Dallas pipes up from Darry’s armchair, his calloused fingers scraping against the stubble beginning to grow on his chin.

° Johnny's like 👀 bc the drama of it all!

° "I'm a fish,” Two-bit mutters under his breath, his attention now being stolen by none other than Mickey.

° "Jesus christ! Go get some milk you idiot!" Soda snaps bitterly as he walks out with Steve, Pony and Johnny in toe because they’re all gonna be late for work and school now.

° Lmaoo now it’s all quiet, except for the blaring audio coming from the television. 

° Dallas and Two-bit are left alone.

° "You being serious that you did that shit man?" Dally asks after ten solid minutes of silence.

° "I swear it was the fridge, Dal. I swear!" Two-bit looks at his buddy, a wise cracking grin plastered on his face.

° "Man, you're a lost cause." Dally chuckles before getting up to his feet to fetch himself a beer from the fridge. It’s not even 9am!

° Anyways, when Darry comes home that night there’s now five jugs of milk on the dining table bc everyone, - except for Two-bit bc he forgot -, bought some damn milk. I mean, even Dally stole some from the corner store.

° "Now there's too much milk! I ain't paying you all back. You better buckle up Popeye style because I'm not drinking it on my own." Darry snaps irritably as he looks at all the milk on the kitchen table, the entire gang is gathered around said table looking like a bunch of dumb butts.

° "Popeye loves spinach Darry not milk." Pony corrects Darry, bitch is mumbling under his breath but Darry whips his head up bc he fucking heard him!

° "I swear to god if you smart mouth me again I’ll-"

° "Darry! Stop okay? You bitched about having no milk, now you've got more. Eat your damn cereal you big BABY! And leave my kid brother alone!" The sass coming from Soda kinda makes everyone get a bit silent bc lmaoo not this shit again!

° "Man, can you guys quit arguin’? Two’s the one who fucking did that shit this morning! He admitted to all of us, I'm not a fucking snitch or nothin’ but fuck this is annoying." Dally would gripe as he takes a carton of milk, bursts it open and starts chugging it. Lmaoo it was the one he stole. He can’t listen to this shit any more, he’s gonna go insane. ‘What a bunch of pussies.’ He grumbles in his head.

° "Two, you fucking put my milk in the cabinet?!" Darry roars, his head whipping towards the living room where Two-bit’s sitting on his ass watching tv again.

° “Did I? I thought it was the fridge!" Lmaoo it’s so innocent the way he says it.

° Pony almost has a stroke.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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