#ANYWAY.. also sorry this is another blurb that's longer. The text is always longer when there's actually spoken interactions lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplekiwis · 8 months

Text

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

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Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old couple they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they were retired and watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the pretty girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to complete.

Their journey was always the same. As soon as they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

They'd just grabbed their pizzas, as well as another two for his grandparents since pizza happened to be one of the few fast foods that they tolerated, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face, coupled with her mischievous gaze got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your other friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was stressed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or even that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick the drink they’d be having later, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her favorite snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the review paper with you.”

“I do every school project with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him nervous about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really progressed anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he really liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of sci-fi movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in grown-up stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had videogame-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he mostly stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since his childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how exquisite his peepers were.

He thought Y/N had nice peepers as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

It had been a good while since they had returned from the supermarket. The issue was that when they arrived at his house, they found Harry's grandparents working in the backyard. And while Harry had never been a fan of getting his hands dirty in the garden, Y/N thought it would be nice to offer to help, so they ended up spending a good chunk of their afternoon pulling weeds and pruning flower bushes.

And then, since it was already close to dinner time when they finished, they decided it would be best to begin working on the paper after eating and showering the gardening sweat off their bodies. That plan was shelved, however, because Harry really wanted to play Mortal Kombat since it was multiplayer, and he rarely had anyone to play it with. So they wound up wasting an additional hour on that.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started late, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him in bed for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up working much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I came across this really interesting essay on our subject and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could actually collect samples of these microbes to study them in the lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the headboard. “You’re telling me that you really find water microbes that intriguing?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered the possibility that there could be species growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.”

“I didn’t find it so surprising, which is making me wonder if it could be that I’m smarter than you...”

“Not a chance.” Due to the silence that followed his teasing, Harry realized that Y/N was nearing sleep but was resisting in order to maintain her supportive role. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need rest my eyes a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “You don't mind if I cover up with your sheets, right? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a pretty girl would be laying in his bed and would most likely leave a bit of her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was pretty. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled at people like they wanted to break their nose that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on… or the way his body warmed up whenever he felt the pressure of Y/N’s soft boobs against his side.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two hot spring locations since they keep coming up in the articles.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago from Portugal.” With that, Harry rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling, that seemed to come out of nowhere. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up just as a blazing sensation swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax! You look like you’re about to blow up!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm to try to calm him down. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry curled up in a ball, covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it a lot, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel really gross.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially not with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just trying to be funny.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that stupid website ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab at some point. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… classic, scripted porn… you know, the typical “oh no, I’m stuck!” cringe stuff that always shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I’ve watched my share too and overall I think it's much better than that other porn you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so keen on sharing, but he was really enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very intimate feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find real naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like it when girls tell you what to do? because it seems a little more plausible?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed already so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He laughed at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of stressing about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; My grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just really don't want to go to sleep by myself for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could turn back the clock and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even think twice. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option anymore. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I would really like to get contacts soon. I was also thinking it could be nice to start exercising more just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things in order to cheer me up but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind until now, really. I don't know why my brain decided to picture that ridiculous scenario all of sudden.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was getting nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never too serious… just a little crush since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or expressed attraction for anyone in particular, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something regarding his feelings, what made it even worse. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don’t think it’s funny at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to trick me or to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember that time when we were 9, my parents took us to a fancy playground with boats and there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it from your hands?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone at school that Nintendo’s were waterproof. All the parents got so mad, and the girl wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was pretty... and it made me upset that you’d replaced me with her and left me to play alone, despite her being mean to me.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “Obviously I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day a lot... it makes me feel embarrassed of what I did, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends you would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I have green eyes and am tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, I like all of those things obviously, but they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me a little jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I loved it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… knowing you like me and all, it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is one of the most fun parts.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your stupid glasses are getting in my way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her tummy against his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the sensation on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction. She was being good and taking it nice and slow like Harry had asked though.

Still, she could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want my thighs all wet and sticky from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of her pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.��

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me.” She took advantage of his staring to steal a kiss from his lips. “Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled proudly at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so pretty like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little hums of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest, so he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you out so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing your little pussy this way, just like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got her right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even more drenched as he stroked her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and lay down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

A smile spread across Harry’s face as she pulled him in for a cuddle.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #nerd!harry #sub!harry #harry styles x you #purplekiwis #kissable

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sluggmuffin · 10 months

Note

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 - send a prompt from either this list or this one & a character and i will write you a blurb!

Can I get number 2 from the 2nd prompt list with Earth 42! Miles?? Plss

ALSO HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY WEEK

Hugs From Behind ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Summary: Miles is low key a dick but it's okay bc it was an accident

Warnings: angst, crying, u make up in the end

A/N: oops. umm I didn't mean to make this angsty it just came out. anyways if u wanted fluff I will gladly write another one I love my boy

"Get out" Y/n commanded, keeping their back to their window Miles had come in.

"Ma, cmon you can't be serious." He pleaded, swinging himself over their window so he's fully in their room.

"Get. Out" Y/n repeated through gritted teeth, organizing their desk further. Truthfully, they didn't want him to leave. They just wanted an apology. And Miles knew that. And as hard as it is for him to admit he's wrong, he knew he had to do it.

"I'm sorry. Really I am."

"You said that last week. And the week before that. I want you to mean it."

He inched closer to Y/n, and even though they didn't want to give in, the minute he wrapped his arms around their waist they knew how this would end. Miles lay his chin on their shoulder, and pressed small kisses to their jawline.

"Miles"

"Yes ma?"

"I want a proper apology."

"Y/n," He starts, before pressing another kiss to your neck. "I'm very sorry I didn't respond to any of your texts-"

"for 7 hours" They mumbled.

"for 7 hours, yes. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand I'd be busy, and I'm sorry I didn't text you goodnight." He urged, swaying back and forth while keeping his arms around you.

"Miles, you know I always go to bed at 11:30, and if you can't respond to my messages past 4pm, then the least I expect is a 'sorry I'm busy right now baby, I'll text you later, goodnight' when I'm getting ready for bed. I've told you before that I don't want to have to wait, worrying about you, and I've told you before if I don't care if I have to go to bed without a text from you. I know my worth and if you won't give me 2 minutes of your life, then I don't need you." Their voice cracks, on the verge of tears they don't dare turn around to keep them from falling.

"Then why'd you wait" He asks.

"What?"

"You said it yourself. You would go to sleep without a text from me because you don't need me and you know your worth. Then why are you up at-" He leans over your shoulder to turn on your phone that's on the desk, a picture you have of the two of you at the pool as your background lighting up the room."-3am waiting for me?"

"I am not waiting for you," they scoff at the accusation. "I'm cleaning my desk."

"At 3am?" He cocks an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Even though you hate staying up past 12?"

"Okay you know what Miles, yes I was waiting for you. I haven't heard from you for hours so I stayed up for the slim chance you'd text me back, or come apologize, because I really cannot go to bed without knowing your safe." They finally admit, a drop falling from their eye onto the floor.

"Ma, please don't cry," He cranes his neck that's still rested on your shoulder, pressing more kisses against their skin. "I'm really sorry, and if you can find it in your heart to forgive me" He pokes their chest, making the ends of their mouth curve upward. "Then I'd make it up to you as best I can, and I promise, with all my heart, that I will no longer leave you without sleep waiting for my texts."

He unwraps his arms from around Y/ns waist, turning them so their facing him. He gets a good look of their face, eyes puffy from crying, and tear streaks making marks on their face. He kisses the tears away before planting one last kiss on their lips.

"Anyways if you really did want me to leave... I can go. But if not let's get you to bed yeah?"

"Yeah." They agree, a smile tugging at their lips.

And with that, Miles never left them without a goodnight text again, but instead he left them with a healed heart, kisses, and hugs from behind.

#mick 🐝#slugs birthday celly!#e42 miles #miles morales x reader #miles morales #spiderman atsv #atsv #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #slugs writing!

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harry-writings · 3 years

Text

My Birthday Girl

Another Drive Me Wild blurb for all my emotionless!h lovers out there! I hope you enjoy!! <3 I truly did not know how to end this but oh well, she’s cute anyways :’)

Masterlist

How to support me <3333

Chocolate covered strawberries.

They’re Y/n’s favorite — the snack she always asks him to make for her on special occasions, and even on her lowest days does he find her craving the sweet treat, an unbelievably easy way to her heart.

So here he is, dipping fresh strawberries in melted chocolate on the morning of her birthday. Their flat is silent as Y/n sleeps in their bedroom, Harry borderline exhausted as he is now on his third hour of being awake, his second cup of coffee already brewing beside him.

But his excitement is stronger than his lack of sleep as he runs through the day in his head, a small smile toying on his lips for everything he has planned for her. After their morning spent in bed, he arranged a picnic for them to go on at their local park — the basket already prepared and filled with cheese and crackers, wine and grapes — tickets for an immersive art exhibit she’d been begging for him to take her to, and a reservation to Y/n’s favorite Italian restaurant later tonight.

He wanted to make her birthday something she’d never forget, simply because this is the first birthday they’ll be spending together and he doesn’t want to screw it up. But also because last night, Y/n had told him that she had spent her last four birthdays alone, and something about that small confession was enough for him to nearly tear his own heart out.

It’s been eating him up all morning — thinking about how sad she must have felt on the days she was supposed to be her happiest. Surely, he’s been through that feeling practically his entire life… but something about Y/n spending her birthdays alone physically pains him to think about.

His stomach twists and churns whenever his thoughts wander off to Y/n sitting at her favorite restaurant, celebrating at a table for one with a glass of wine and a cup of ice cream, with nobody for her to talk to. And for him to fathom the idea of her going home to an empty house and an even emptier bed, ending her night without receiving a single happy birthday text, as if it were no different than any other day, makes his chest cave into a pit of guilt for not being the one there with her.

He knows it’s not his fault, but there’s nobody else to blame and he’d much rather take the fall than for her to ever blame herself (which she already does — another confession that had also slipped out to him last night). He frowns a bit at the remembrance.

And the emotional turmoil his body undergoes thinking about her past makes him ache being so far away from her now. So he finishes the last couple of strawberries in a haste, swaps the batch he made earlier with the new batch out from the refrigerator, and plates the chocolate covered strawberries on a floral serving tray.

With one last look around the kitchen, he makes his way into their bedroom.

He smiles softly as he enters, Y/n snuggled with the covers under her chin, soft snores falling with each breath she takes, as beautiful as ever in her dream state.

He places the tray of chocolate covered strawberries quietly against the nightstand, careful not to wake her just yet, before sitting down on the bed beside her legs. He reaches his hand out to pet through her hair, watching as her nose scrunches and eyes blink open beneath his touch.

He leans down to kiss her, his lips resting gently on her forehead as he continues to run his fingers through her hair, growing a hint of a smile when she huffs and puffs to her morning wake.

He removes his lips from her skin, sitting himself back up to admire the view. It never fails to amaze him just how stunning she truly is. No matter the time of day or the mood she’s in, no matter how done up or how done down, she always manages to take his breath away and make him fall more in love.

She pouts tiredly at him, her eyes blinking as they adjust to the light. And he pouts back at her, his fingers rubbing at the edge of her jawline back and forth softly. “I’m so sorry, pretty, but I missed you.”

She softens a little at his words, her cheeks turning pink beneath his touch. “I missed you, too.”

He smiles a bit as he continues petting her, the silence between them affectionate and comfortable. And she pushes herself deeper into his touch, in absolute bliss.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

She hums, in awe at just how perfect he is. His chest is on display for her to see, his tattoos prominent against his skin and begging for attention. And his face… so soft, so sweet, so precious… she wants it all to herself, all day long.

“Why do you look so good right now?” She frowns, her oozing with lust as they soak him in. It feels as if she’s seeing him for the first time all over again.

“Shaved for you.” He leans down to kiss at her lips once, twice, three times before he sits up again, his expression blank but his eyes full of love. “For later.”

She whines, her hands gripping his arm and pulling him back down to her, the sight of him no longer enough as her watering mouth finds its home against his cheek. “How about for now?”

She’s being greedy and she knows it, but who could ever blame her? It’s her birthday and her only wish is for him to fill all of her senses, to hold her close until she’s in a world that belongs to just the two of them, to touch every single part of him.

Her lips are persistent against him, her fingers in his hair as she kisses and kisses and kisses the soft and smooth skin. And Harry indulges himself in her affections, enjoying it all too well even though it should be him drowning her with love.

“But I made you breakfast.” He tries, his walls crumbling as his voice wavers between his words because of course he’d rather be doing this, but today is about spoiling her rotten, not the other way around.

“How could I possibly want breakfast when you’re right here, shirtless and all clean shaven?” Her teeth graze at his jaw, as if taking a bite of him, growling at his taste. “So scrumptious right in front of me.”

His breath falters and weakens at her touch, the breath of her words sending a chill down his spine he can’t seem to shake off. And curse her for being so irresistible and knowing exactly what he likes, he never fails to give into her in a heartbeat. “But I made your favorite.”

“So that’s a no to morning birthday sex?” She raises her eyebrow at him, pulling away from him and stilling her movements.

“Absolutely not.” He argues plainly, gently pushing her back onto the mattress, his blank and nearly cold expression making her chest jump from within her. She loves how much he loves her beneath it all.

He strokes her cheek with the back of his finger, his lips linear and eyes darkening with endearment, admiring every inch of her face. And she can recognize that look anywhere — he’s going to make a mess out of her.

He reaches over to the night stand, grabbing one of the chocolate covered strawberries and dangling it over her mouth. “Just one bite for me.”

She opens her mouth for a taste, pushing herself up on her elbows to reach, craning her neck. But right before she could sneak a bite, Harry pulls it away from her, making her head tilt in confusion as he looks at her with hesitation.

Rather, he opens his own mouth, his teeth lodging into the stem end of the berry, ready for her to take. And he leans back down, Y/n’s eyes glistening at the idea as she meets him halfway. Her teeth sink into the hardened chocolate and through the juicy fruit, her lips meshing with his along the way. And they both let out a moan at the feel and taste of it, never having done anything quite like this before.

Harry leans back with the fruit stuck between his teeth, eyes fixating on her for just a moment longer before he turns his head and spits the stem onto the ground. And if Y/n wasn’t so infatuated by the filthy sight of it, she’d grimace at the thought of the juice leaving a stain on their perfectly clean hardwood floor… but how could she ever care when he’s about to make his mark on her?

She licks her lips up at him, slowly and seductively, humming at the sweetness.

His eyes darken at the angel splayed in front of him, ready to be touched and ruined by him. And something about the way she wanted this, craved this, starved for this — over the chocolate covered strawberries he had made with love, delivered to her side, ready to be devoured — even when she has it every day, makes him want this so much more… as if it were even possible.

“You just lay back and look pretty.” He instructs, his hand running down the length of her shirt (that’s technically his, but she wears it nearly every single night for bed and it always drives him wild whenever she does) and onto the plush of her thigh.

She squirms into his touch.

“And I will give you everything you ask for, m’birthday girl.”

Harry’s got his hands over Y/n’s eyes, carefully guiding her toward the kitchen — where he had dedicated his entire morning to make everything look perfect for her — as she giggles and squeals and tries to guess what he could have possibly surprised her with.

He laughs with every other step they take, biting teasingly at her shoulders whenever she makes more guesses, already feeling somewhat accomplished that he’s found a way to make her this happy.

He stops them at the entrance of the kitchen, where he kisses the back of her head. “Okay. Are you ready, baby?”

She nods excitedly, clapping her hands in anticipation. He counts to three, taking a deep breath in before releasing his hands from her eyes and settling them around her waist.

Her jaw drops at the sight of it.

Dozens of baby pink balloons floating around the kitchen, the table full of gifts in pastel colored bags, white streamers hanging from the walls, bouquets of flowers scattered throughout the mix. And never has Y/n seen something so thoughtful or so full of love, she can hardly believe that it’s all for her.

She never knew things like this existed.

“You did all this? For me?”

Harry kisses her head from behind, tightening his arms around her front and squeezing her to him, resting his chin against her shoulder.

His heart sinks whenever she doubts his intentions, always unsettled at the thought of her insecurities fooling her to believe she doesn’t deserve to be loved like this. Because she does and she always will, every day for the rest of her life, and he intends to remind her of that every day for the rest of his.

“Wouldn’t do it for anyone else.”

He gives her one last squeeze before releasing her, allowing her to roam free and look at everything he had to offer. And she seems tentative and wary at first, but with one soft and gentle push from Harry, she makes her way over to what he had laid out for her.

Her eyes dance between the gifts and the decorations, slightly overwhelmed at how much there is… she doesn’t know what to look at first. Everything is just so perfect — beyond anything she could ever imagine and better than anything she’s ever dreamed of.

But something in particular catches her eye — there, set on the middle of the table, are two glasses of mimosas with a note laid before them, reading ‘Cheers to you, my love, for being alive with me.’

Her stomach dances, heart falling at the words he wrote out for her. They’re so simple, yet quite possibly the most beautiful thing she has ever been told. She’ll be sure to smother him with kisses for it later.

She diverts her attention to the gifts, her fingers dance along the pastel bags, ruffling the tissue paper, gleaming at how much thought and time he must have put into everything. Because they are always together — at home, at work, on their days off — and yet he still found a way to make this day as special as he possibly could for her, leaving countless of surprises along the way.

“You spoiled me.”

He leans himself against the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He pauses, then, trying to find the right words. “I know I’m not always the most expressive when it comes to our relationship, so I like to make up for it whenever I can.”

Her lips fall into a pout, watching as her fingers fiddle around the corner of a tissue paper, her heart dropping at the insecurity laced within his words.

It breaks her in two whenever Harry doubts himself, always saddened at the thought of him never feeling good enough in their relationship despite everything he’s done for her. Because he goes above and beyond every single day, in ways she never even knew was possible, and it aches to feel all the weight he burdens himself with.

“H... that’s never something you have to worry about. You’re very expressive towards me.” Her hand falls to her thigh in defeat, her frown sinking deeper. “It kind of breaks my heart that you don’t see that.”

“No.” Harry says instantly, shaking his head as he makes his way towards her, his hands resting at her shoulders to bring her attention back towards him. “No broken hearts today. Just forget I said anything, okay? And instead...” He grabs a particularly small bag up from the sea of gifts, holding it out to her with hopeful and anxious eyes. “Open this.”

She looks up at him, her cheeks flushed and lips twitching into a smile. She grabs it from him slowly, a small and quiet thank you falling from her lips, suddenly shy under his watch.

Her hands shake as they remove the tissue paper from the bag, her eyes curious when they spot a black velvet box laid delicately inside. She reaches for it, placing the gift bag back on the table before looking back up to Harry, trying to read his expression.

She opens the velvet box and feels a certain tug on her heart she’s never once felt before, stuttering at the meaning of it.

“You got us matching rings?”

He nods, rolling his lips between his teeth. It’s his nervous habit — the subtlest form of one but the only external sign he’s in a situation he’s unsure about. But she can’t imagine how he could ever be unsure of something like this… it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever done for her.

“Look on the inside of them.”

She takes her ring out of the box, gleaming at the silver band for a moment longer before flipping it to its inside, and she gasps again. Engraved with the most perfect cursive writing, read the words forever and always.

“I know how much you love my rings. You’ve made this really cute habit of fiddling with them before bed to help you fall asleep, and — and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but… I stopped wearing any on my left ring finger once you and I had gotten together.”

She did notice, of course, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions. Especially since she first noticed the morning after their first night together. She was in a trance as she watched his hands work each ring onto his fingers, one by one, precise and confident and effortless. He wasn’t even looking and that’s what made it so much more mesmerizing to her.

But it wasn’t until he reached his left ring finger that he hesitated, his fingertips skimming the skin there, as if in contemplation. And her eyebrows furrowed, even deeper when he proceeded to the next finger as if nothing peculiar had happened at all, the question on the tip of her tongue but swallowed down in seconds.

He hasn’t worn one there ever since.

“I know it’s stupid but, my rings mean a lot to me, you know? They all have their place and their reasons and it just — it felt wrong once you stayed the night because I’ve always had intentions on spending my life with you, I just didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Her eyes water as he speaks, feeling more loved and cherished than she ever has before. And there’s this sense of peace that washes over her knowing that he’s always seen himself with her, even before they had gotten together, because that’s all she had ever seen since the moment she laid eyes on him.

“I just don’t like that it’s so empty when my heart isn’t, so I figured this would be perfect for us.”

Y/n sniffles, holding back a sob as she nods her head. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

He smiles, his fingers gripping hers before taking the ring from her hand, holding it out to her. And he slips it onto her left ring finger, admiring the way it looks on her and drooling at the idea of them sharing something so sacred and promising together.

He kisses it.

And Y/n doesn’t hesitate to then take his ring out of the box, her stomach fluttering at the intimacy of it all as she slips the silver band on the only empty finger he has. It’s so real — the feeling of it all, seeing a token of his devotion to her out for the whole world to see.

“I love it so much, H.” She whispers, intertwining their hands together. “This is just… so much. All of this and you… it’s all so much. I love you so much.”

He pulls her to him, her lips so close to his he has no choice but to lay a kiss to them. But what was supposed to be slow and delicate ended as a mini makeout session — much like the ones they had in the break room at work, hidden behind closed doors, before they were much of anything besides two people absolutely desperate for each other.

“This is all I wanted.” Y/n whispers between their kisses, referring to the man she’s holding and loving and praising between her arms. “I got everything I wanted.”

Forever and always.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles preferences

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annab-nana · 3 years

Note

hi, can I request a JJ blurb with this prompt: "You feel intense pain in your soul when your soulmate is in life-threatening danger."

Ooo this one is gonna hurt my heart and also it went kinda long so I hope you like it

Tw: abuse; violence; mentions of alcohol

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When you were really little, you found out that when people’s soulmates are in danger, they can feel it. Your father got into a car accident that was pretty bad when you were three but you swore your mom was in more pain than he was. They both made it out and are happy as ever. You couldn’t have asked for a better example of soulmates in love.

However, you never expected to feel the pain your mother did for your father that night so soon and so often. It started around when you were five and you’d be walking home from school before you’d feel it, a harsh pain spreading through your chest. You gripped onto the nearest mailbox for stability as you waited for it to end, silent tears seeping out of your eyes. That first time was hell but you didn’t know what you had coming for you.

It happened almost every other day when you were growing up but now it’s slowed to about once or twice a week. You had grown to have a pretty high pain tolerance after feeling the searing hurt that ripped through your chest every time your soulmate was in danger. You honestly felt so bad for him and wondered what the hell he was getting into to be in such danger constantly.

“Hey JB! Where’s JJ?” you asked John B as you plopped down onto his couch. Pope and Kiara were working at the moment, but JJ was normally here right after school let out.

“Uhhh I don’t know,” he mumbled and that’s when it hit, that pain that took over your chest that caused you to squeeze your eyes shut and grip something tightly. “Is it happening again? Here, hold my hand.”

You took John B’s hand and held on tight as you waited for the pain to pass but this time it was a persistent motherfucker and it hurt worse than any other one had too.

“I think,” you breathed as John B helped lay you down, “I think he might actually die this time. This one hurts so bad.” Tears sprung to your eyes while you tried to breathe through the immense pain. John B sat with you, holding your hand and commenting on how good you were doing. He had seen this happen a lot during your friendship as did the rest of the pogues. JJ was only around a couple of times but that was normally when there was a fight you were all involved in and you were too focused on throwing punches than dealing with the pain.

There wasn’t much John B could do but sit there and hold your hand as you each hoped it would end soon. This was the longest you both had ever seen this happen and you were growing a bit worried.

“Fuck,” you muttered as the relentless pain was finally lifted and you could breathe better now. “That was the worst one.”

“I wish I could find this guy and punch him for being so reckless. Like how does someone put themselves in this much danger? Not to mention that he has to know he’s inflicting his pain onto you. That’s selfish!” John B cried while you pulled your hand out of his. He hated seeing his friends in pain and there was absolutely nothing he could do to help yours except be your soulmate and it was obvious that he wasn’t.

“It’s okay, JB. It’s probably not even his fault and anyway, punching him would only hurt me too, you idiot,” you chuckled, sitting up. “Well, I’m going to find JJ because I know you’re going to ditch us for Sarah again.”

“Hey! That’s no fair. I found my soulmate. I just wish we could find yours,” he mentioned, a long look on his face. You leaned over to press a friendly kiss to his cheek.

“We will. Don’t worry. Now go have fun with your girlfriend,” you teased before walking towards JJ’s house. You had passed the place several times and met his father a time or two, each time being creepy and unpleasant. You knew JJ hated being home but sometimes he had to go back for some of his things. You never knew why he hated being home so much, figuring his father was never home so why be there when he can be with his friends. You didn’t expect to see the blond all bloodied and laying on the grass, tears falling from his eyes.

“JJ!” you yelled as you ran to where he laid. He didn’t turn his head to you and that scared you even more. Please don’t be dead, you thought when you came to his body. You knelt down to see if you could hear breathing and you did thankfully.

“Leave him alone, y/n,” you heard the gravelly voice of none other than Luke Maybank behind you.

“What? You’re his father and your son is unconscious in your yard. Don’t you care?” you spat as you texted John B to come over, being sure to add SOS at the end.

“He got what was coming to him,” the man told you as he took another swig of beer. “He loves you, you know?” he added to the conversation as if his son wasn’t about to die behind you. He stepped off the porch and took slow steps towards you. With wide eyes, you searched all around until you found a wrench that was in JJ’s hand.

“Stay back!” you shouted, holding the wrench between the two of you as he continued to walk closer to you. “I mean it!”

“What’s that little thing gonna do to me? You see it didn’t help your little boyfriend,” he stated, admitting to causing JJ’s pain.

“You? You did this? He’s your son,” you muttered in disbelief.

“Not everyone has a picture-perfect family, princess,” Luke laughed as he gripped your wrist tightly, grabbing the wrench with his other hand and tossing it to the side. With all this going on, you both didn’t realize that JJ had woken up and picked up a hammer from somewhere else. He stood and swung, hitting his father right in the head and knocking him out.

“JJ!” you yelled as you pulled the boy into your arms as he chuckled in your ear. “You scared me. I thought you were dead. Are you okay?” you asked as you pulled away from him to look him over.

“Yeah, you saved our lives, you know that?”

“How? You were unconscious and I was about to get my ass kicked. What did I do?”

“I always thought we were soulmates because you always get hurt when I’m home but you’ve never been in immediate danger like that so the deep pain in my chest from Luke coming at you woke me up,” he explained with a dumb grin on his face.

“We’re soulmates? That’s why my chest hurts all the time? Because of him? JJ, I’m so sorry.” You felt so bad for never noticing sooner but you two didn’t get the chance to talk much longer before the dingy orange van you all knew and loved came in hot to JJ’s house.

“Someone better be dying,” John B spoke before he caught sight of JJ, immediately thinking it was some random fight that the boy had gotten himself into.

“I almost did, asshole,” the blond chided while he limped next to you, using your body for support which you let him.

“Hey, we need to go to the hospital. Also, we’re soulmates,” you told the curly-haired boy when you helped JJ into the back.

“Okay, the hospital and what?!”

Send in some blurbs

#anon #blurbs #jj maybank #jj maybank blurbs

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Ben’s POV

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: 14 scenes told from Ben's Perspective.

Warnings: A whole lotta angst and badly handled feelings. swearing, drinking, a little bit of smut/masturbation (18+) basically everything from the other chapters but from Ben’s side lmao

Words: 22 790 (oh god im sorry, but all the sections are separated so you don’t have to read it in one hit!)

A/N: I know it's like super duper late but here is the final chapter of this series that I promised! Basically just a collection of blurbs (maybe a few oneshot length parts too) that tell the story from the other side. Some are his point of view of things that occurred in the main chapters, some fill in gaps that reader wasn't around for.

I had a lot of fun writing from a perspective I don't normally write from! It was a bit of a challenge at times but definitely something I'd like to do again.

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.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #its currenty 1am #i have to be up for work in about 5 hours #this took longer to edit than i thought it would #(probably because its 22 effing words long lmao)#but here you go!#its done!#i think some of my formatting went a little janky when i was copying it into this post #but whateveri think its just added extra line breaks between paragraphs #so it should still be readable #anyway #im gonna pass out now #i'll see you tomorrow when i come to complain about work

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swervingkpoptrashcan · 4 years

Text

I Wanna Be Your Favourite Boy - Felix (best friends to lovers fluff)

Summary: No one expected that acting for your friend’s film project would force you and your best friend, Felix, to act on your feelings. (lol)

Genre: Female reader, fluff, best friends to lovers AU, college AU, ft. Hyunjin

Word count: 1.4K

Note: The longer and more edited version of this blurb, the title and story is loosely based on the Rex Orange County song, Best Friend. I’m also a scriptwriting student and I LOVE dialogue so… I love Felix and also Hyunjin, tell me what you think and if there should be a part 2!

“Sorry, she can’t.”

You tear your eyes away from the cute boy in front of you, quickly glaring at your best friend who had just said the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Haha, you’re so funny Felix.” You replied in a (very obviously) forced joking tone, aggressively mouthing for Felix to cut it out.

You focus back on the boy in front of you, who’s fidgeting as he waits for your reply.

“Sure Hyunjin, just drop me a text and let me know when you need me.”

A smile grows on the boy’s face before he excitedly nods and bids you and Felix goodbye. You turn to face Felix who has a frown on his face as Hyunjin bumbles away.

“Why are you being mean to the poor kid, he just needs help for an assignment. Plus, aren’t you guys like friends?” You questioned.

A pout forms on Felix’s face, as he clings onto your arm and mutters, “Yeah, he’s in my dance team, but… He obviously likes you and I don’t like that.”

You couldn’t control your heart that picked up speed — it was difficult to not crush on Felix when he always pulled things like this, but you knew a relationship wouldn’t ever work out between the two of you. Felix just never seemed interested.

Although everyone thought you guys were dating, Felix would always deny any possibility of a relationship forming, replying with a firm, “We’re just friends��.

So you crack a smile at what he said, thinking that he was just protective over you since you had a terrible track record of relationships. You gave Felix’s head a pat before shoving him off your shoulder, him pouting and rubbing his head.

“Anyway, why couldn’t Hyunjin ask me? I’m totally actor material. Psh, what a dumb excuse. He’s just too scared to ask you out on a date.” Felix grumbled, taking a sip of his tea.

You tutted and shook your head, offering a bite of your cake to Felix so he would stop grumbling. Hyunjin was a film major, and needed a main lead for one of his class assignments. Though you didn’t know much about the film, he was a cute nice boy, and Felix’s friend, so you didn’t see any problems helping him out.

“Just come with me if you’re so worried, I’m sure Hyunjin won’t mind.”

—

Felix looked on in pure rage as Hyunjin talked to you. All Hyunjin was doing was rehearsing with you, demonstrating the actions the male lead — who was nowhere to be seen — was supposed to do.

Stood by the camera equipment and the rest of the crew, Felix was far enough that he couldn’t hear the conversation happening. He could, however, see Hyunjin cozying up to you, stepping close and leaning down to look you in the eye as you struggled to hold back a laugh. When the pair of you look over, Felix quickly returns his gaze to check his empty phone lockscreen.

Unbeknownst to you, Felix was struggling to keep his feelings under wraps. Though it seemed so easy to just confess and call you his, he always saw the look you gave him whenever people asked, “Oh, why aren’t you guys dating”. Thinking you were uncomfortable, he came up with the bright idea to just deny any of these suggestions. The last thing he wanted to do would be to force his feelings on you and lose years of friendship.

Felix peeked and saw Hyunjin leave to talk to one of his crew members, leaving you standing in the shade under a tree, muttering to yourself. He walked over with your favorite drink, seeing your flushed face.

“Tell me again how Hyunjin isn’t doing this to flirt with you?” He questioned, watching you slurp away at the ice cold beverage.

“Hyunjin’s just making sure I don’t mess up his project, that’s not flirting, dummy.”

Felix shook his head at your lack of awareness, knowing full well what Hyunjin was up to.

Except, he really didn’t.

—

“Felix probably wants to rip my head off right now.” Hyunjin states as he leaned towards you.

You held back a laugh, shaking your head, “No, he’s like my biggest fan but it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

Both of you glance over to Felix who was looking at his phone, unbothered, just like you thought.

Hyunjin tuts and moves away from you. “No one buys that, by the way. As much as both of you say no way, we all know you guys like each other.”

You blushed at his words but couldn’t deny anything. Hyunjin shot you a knowing look before he got called away by his producer.

—

“No way dude, are you out of your mind! I’m not actor material!” Felix argued.

By a stroke of luck (or well, misfortune), the male lead was down with a terrible case of stomach flu. Hyunjin had literally gotten on his knees to beg Felix to save his project, but the boy was stubborn and rejected him. With only a few hours left of sunlight, Hyunjin just needed a new lead to do some lines and Felix was the only choice.

“Please! I know you helped with her lines, why not just act with her then? Isn’t that just perfect?” Hyunjin pleaded, even going as far as to give you his puppy dog eyes.

You tugged at Felix’s arm and he leans down to hear you whisper, “Just do it and I’ll owe you a favour.”

His eyebrows raise at that proposal, and he instantly agrees.

“Hyunjin, you owe me big time.” You smirked.

—

Hyunjin watches the camera monitor as you and Felix complete yet another scene without any issue. Not surprising anyone, the chemistry between the two of you was perfect.

“Okay, last scene, let’s move!” Hyunjin announced.

As the crew packs up, Felix reviews the script for the last scene. You bumble over and the both of you make your way to the next location, a classroom on the other side of campus.

“I can’t believe I have to be all couple-y with you.” You joked, reading through the script.

Felix stopped walking, staring at you. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, if it was with some stranger it would be easier. But you’re like my best friend and I have to ‘almost’ kiss you? That’s so awkward.” You explained, tugging him along the hallway.

While what you said made sense, Felix couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart, but he could only let out a sigh and get dragged along.

Upon reaching the empty classroom and deciding to rehearse the ‘difficult scene’ before everyone else got there, the pair of you sit criss-cross applesauce on some tables, facing one another.

“You’re still my favourite girl. But...” Felix said.

His gaze was piercing and you had to force yourself to remember that it was just the script. It wasn’t real.

“What?” You asked.

“I wanna be the one that makes your day.” He replied, scooting nearer to you.

His knees bump yours.

“The one you think about as you lie awake.” He leans in.

His hands are on either side of you.

“I wanna be your favourite boy.” He gently places his forehead on yours.

His breath fans across your face.

Your heart is absolutely pumping at this point and you’re sure Felix could feel your heartbeat through your forehead. You blink hard, trying to remember your next line but with Felix literally breathing on your face, it escapes you.

“I want to claim that favour now.” Felix mumbles.

Felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then up to your now open eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You could have sworn your jaw dropped to the floor. Were you dreaming? Did you forget some lines? Was this in the script? It didn’t matter what breakdown your brain was going through because you ended up nodding.

A soft smile spreads across Felix’s face, as he closes the gap between you two. His soft lips land on yours and you feel the warmth of his lips for a split second before he pulls away.

Felix sees the dazed look on your face and chuckles, hopping off the table. Right on cue, Hyunjin comes crashing into the room with his trolley full of equipment.

“What did I miss?”

#stray kids #fluff #stray kids fluff #felix #felix fluff #felix lee #kpop #kpop fluff #stray kids scenario #stray kids scenarios #imagine #stray kids imagine #college!au #college au #friends to lovers #au

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nostalgiabones · 4 years

Text

Home Is Whenever I’m With You // C.H

This is a request from this prompt list, with a few details from the anon that requested it! I really hope you enjoy this. I’m still taking requests so send me a band member and number(s) for a blurb. Also the title came from the song Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Feedback is always appreciated! 💞

3. Travelling long distances just to see them

The house didn’t feel the same without Calum.

The scent of his skin mixed in with his cologne still lingered on the bed sheets, on his pillow case; for you to bury your face into whenever you missed him just that little bit extra. Duke felt it too. He’d sleep curled up on Calum’s side of the bed, keeping you company. Mornings were far too quiet; you missed the familiar sound of his singing, whilst he made his first of several coffees for the day. The nights were lonesome too, without the rumbling of bass strings through the house.

He had only been gone for a few weeks.

FaceTime calls only went so far. You tried to stay distracted with work, or by taking Duke for walks, but every time you returned home it just reminded you that Calum wasn’t there. It wasn’t the first tour he had been on in your relationship, but it was the first since things had gotten a little more serious between the two of you.

Talking to Calum through a screen became more unbearable as time went on; wanting nothing more than to just reach through the phone and hold him.

“Miss you, babe.” Calum murmured from the middle of an unfamiliar bed, in another hotel room, in a different city from when he spoke to you last. He had been in so many hotel rooms, yet they all felt and looked the same to him. “Wish you were here.”

“I miss you too, Cal.” You replied, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, and realising just how tired he looked. “Do you have a day off tomorrow? You look exhausted, baby.”

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes and laying back against the pillows. You couldn’t help but think about laying with him, getting to sleep next to him, and waking up next to him. Most of your deepest conversation happened at 3:00am. When the two of you couldn’t sleep, you’d stay up into the early morning, wrapped up in each other. You’d talk through anything and everything that came to mind. You craved one of those nights with Calum.

“Not tomorrow. But then we’re travelling to New York, and we have the day off after that.” He explained, trying to recall the schedule in his head that he had been told earlier. “I’ll sleep on the flight.”

“Okay, baby. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, yeah? I don’t want you burning yourself out already.” You didn’t want to sound like his parent. However, Calum had a tendency to exhaust himself before he realised it was happening. You didn’t want to let him do that again, so soon into tour. “Duke misses you too.”

He jumped on the bed at the call of his name; laying down against your body, his head resting on your arm. “Look, here he is. Duke, it’s pops!”

Calum couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight of his two favourite beings, even though it was through a screen. He just wanted to be there; wanted to sleep in your bed, to hold the two of you. His heart ached at the thought. Hotel beds would never compare to how it felt to sleep next to you, no matter how comfortable they were.

“Duke, I miss you too, bubs.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. You just wanted to hold him, to kiss him, and tell him that he was okay. “I’m gonna get some sleep, my love. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Okay, Cal. Good night, love you.

“I love you too, baby.”

Knowing Calum had gone to bed, you laid in the dark, thinking about how badly you wanted to see him. You knew he’d be in New York in two days time, and that you could get there by then too. Taking a week off of work would be do-able. All you could think about was seeing the smile on his face if you were there.

You dropped Ashton a text, alerting him of your plans and making sure they were okay with the rest of the team. He helped you book a flight, making sure you’d arrive just after they did, and planning with security how you’d get from the airport to their hotel. Everything was in place, and you fell asleep that night knowing it would be your last night alone for a while.

The flight felt longer than any other had before. All you could think about was seeing Calum at the other side, getting to wrap your arms around him and force him to sleep. To take care of him for even just a short while, and to get to see him live out his dreams on stage. Getting to see him play live was another thing that could never compare, when experiencing it through a screen.

You collected your luggage and headed for arrivals; where a member of security would be waiting for you. Pulling out your phone, you desperately wanted to text Calum to tell him you were close to being with him. Surprising him would be much more fun, though. Hearing your name, you attention was pulled from your phone to Ashton standing in front of you.

“Hey, you.” Ashton pulled you into a friendly hug, happy to see you; knowing Calum would be in a much better mood when you got there. “It’s good to see you. I know Calum will feel the same.”

“It’s good to see you too!” You followed along behind him and the security guard; pulling your suitcase along behind you. “Is he okay?”

“We only got to the hotel about an hour ago, I think he crashed. He was in his room when we left.” He replied, your heart simultaneously aching and racing at the thought of seeing him. Even the journey from the airport to the hotel felt like forever. Ashton’s small talk helped to pass the time, catching you up on tour and what you had missed. He helped with your luggage and lead you to the floor they were staying on; taking you to outside of his room. “Cal is next door. You two have fun.”

You said your goodbyes to Ashton, before pulling your suitcase to outside of the next room. Knocking lightly on the door, in case he was asleep, you waited until you heard movement from the inside of the room.

“Ash?” Calum sleepily mumbled out, clearly having just rolled out of bed and expecting that Ashton was checking up on him; like he often did. Calum rubbed his heavy eyes, before peering through the hole in the hotel door. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when his eyes landed on you, feeling as though he was dreaming. He swung open the door, a gasp leaving his lips as he realised you were really there.

“Hey, Cal.” You murmured, tears springing to your eyes as he pulled you into the room and into his arms. He held you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. He was dressed only in boxers, his skin warm against yours, fresh from taking a nap. His blonde curls were a mess upon his head, begging for you to run your fingers through them.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” He rambled, lifting his head from your shoulder and holding your face in his hands gently. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you. He couldn’t believe you had flown all this way just to see him; it made him want to cry.

“I organised it with Ashton, he helped me plan it out. I decided to come out after you called the other night. Guess I just missed you too much.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He still looked half asleep; cheeks rosy and eyes heavy. “You should go back to bed, babe. Sorry I disturbed your nap.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He smiled against your lips, unable to resist kissing you for any longer. Kissing you felt like home, like it expressed everything he had missed about you for the past few weeks. “I’ll sleep better with you here anyway.”

“Go on, get back into bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” You pressed your lips to his in a few more kisses. He whined, not wanting to let go of you for a moment now that he had you. He couldn’t stop kissing you; he wanted to feel the gentle pressure of your lips against his. He wanted to commit the feeling to memory. With a bit more gentle coaxing from you, he reluctantly pulled away and settled back into the bed, waiting for you to return.

“Hurry, babe.”

You freshened up in the bathroom, changing into one of Calum’s hoodies that he had lying around before joining him.

“Missed you so much.” Calum murmured against your neck, voice thick and ladened with tiredness. It felt good to be holding him. To have him practically laid on top of you; legs intertwined, his free hand in yours, skin touching where ever possible. He was a comforting weight.

“I’m here now.” You smiled against his forehead, before kissing him once more. Stroking your hand through his hair, he sighed in contentment and pulled the duvet over the two of you. He realised that, wherever you were, felt like home. “Get some sleep, my love.”

“Love you.”

****

Taglist: @irwinkitten @ukulelecal @wildflowergrae @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil @fivesecondsof-mee @maluminspace @fluffsshawn @xhaileyreneex @goth5sos @flowerthug @calpops @youngblood199456 @aliencal @wokeupinjapanisabop @banditocth @cashtonasfuck @5-secondsofcolor @g-l-pierce @monsteramongmgc

Masterlist

#tbis took me so long and for what LMAO #im happy with it though!!!!#boyfriend!calum #boyfriend!calum blurbs #boyfriend!5sos blurbs #boyfriend!5sos #boyfriend!sos #boyfriend!sos blurbs #boyfriend 5sos blurbs #boyfriend calum blurbs #5sos blurbs #myblurbs #mywriting #wtsily

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

summertime sadness .4.

tgif

Sequel to kiss me in the d-a-r-k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (masterlist under construction)

Warnings: dub con sex (oral)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and dark(professor!)Bucky explicit. 18+ only. I know they aren’t super dark, but like questionable so I’m keeping those tags just to be safe.

Summary: You settle into your new job but can’t get too comfortable.

Note: Okey, dokey. Here’s the fun part (for me at least). Still tryna figure out how exactly this one will pan out by part 6 but we’re all having a ride together, eh. Thanks everyone for their support and I love you all! 💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog, reply, or like. I’m loving the feedback from y'all and the enthusiasm! Also as always, memes accepted.

💋💋💋

It had only been a few weeks since your last visit to the university but it felt longer as you walked onto campus. Just as planned, you were due to meet Bucky in his office. He texted you as you rode the subway. He was eager to start his ‘marking’. You smirked and wondered how long he’d last at that.

You entered the English Building, the elevator back in service and empty. Not many instructors were in their offices on a Saturday and most students were hungover or readying for another party. You knocked on Bucky’s door before you entered. He had a stack of essays on his desk as he sat behind them listlessly.

“Finally,” He said.

“I slept in.” You replied. “For the first time in a week.”

“Then you’ll have lots of energy,” He reached below his desk, the sound of his zipper discernible beneath it. “I’ve got about forty papers here.”

“Forty? And how many do you think you’ll get to?”

“Knowing that mouth, maybe one.” He snickered. “Come on, baby, I’m rock hard over here.”

He rolled his chair back as you neared and set your purse down behind his desk. He slapped your ass and you got to your knees. You grinned up at him as you ducked under his desk and gripped his thighs as he pushed closer. You pulled down his briefs and his cock sprung out. He groaned and grabbed his pen.

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, baby.”

“You’ve got marking to do,” You reprimanded and stroked him. “Now get to work.”

You stretched your lips over his tip and he groaned. He slid closer and you could hear the clumsy scratching of his pen on paper. As he reached the back of your throat, his leg twitched. You pushed past your gag reflex and he nearly choked. You pulled back and felt the shiver in him.

“Mmm,” He hummed and flipped a page. “Just like that.”

The sloppy sounds of your mouth added to the flutter above, the scribbles of ink. You bobbed your head steadily, every now and then forcing him to your limit and holding him there. And then you stopped as a knock came at the door. You both froze.

“Shit,” He pushed himself against the desk entirely and trapped you underneath it. The front shielded you from view on the other side. “Keep going.”

“Buck---”

“Slowly, quietly.” He grabbed his dick and slapped it against your lips. “Now.” He cleared his throat and shoved your head down as he glided into your mouth again. “Come in.” He called and the door opened.

Your eyes widened as he pulled his hand away. You carefully dragged your tongue along his length.

“Hey,” He greeted in a smooth tone. “Tanya.”

“Sorry to disturb,” His visitor replied. “I was just grabbing some stuff from my office and I just remembered I still had this.”

A thump sounded on the top of the desk as you slobbered down his cock.

“Thanks,” He said and squeezed his legs around you. “I almost forgot myself if I’m being honest.”

“I owe you one,” She said. You recognized her voice. She taught the other section of journalism, though you had her for a social movements class in your first year. “Maybe a drink. I could hang around til you finish with those.”

“Ah, you know, I wish I could,” He lamented. “But I promised a buddy I’d swing around to watch the game.”

You kept from gagging and held your breath, afraid to give yourself away.

“You don’t seem like the sports type,” She countered.

“Not really but a few beers and I am,” He dismissed her easily.

“You sure you’re not avoiding me?” Her toe tapped impatiently just on the other side of the desk.

“Avoiding you?” He chuckled. A slight quaver in his voice as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Why would I be doing that?”

“Well… Ever since our little… you know…” She hesitated to say it aloud.

“I thought we agreed that it was just a little fun.” He said and you stopped suddenly. He nudged you with his toe and you wrapped your lips around him once more. “A drunken bit of fun.”

“Hmmm…” She sounded disappointed. “You free tomorrow?”

“Sorry, maybe next weekend,” He said. “But I really gotta finish here.”

“Okay, okay,” She accepted with a trill. “We’ll sort out a time then.”

“Sure,” He confirmed unconvincingly. “Next weekend. See ya.”

“Bye,” Her voice was cheerier as her heels clicked back across the floor and the door opened and closed once more.

You tried to pull away but he caught your head and held you down as he emptied himself down your throat. You choked and smacked at his thigh as he cupped his sac with his other hand. He left your mouth salty and sore as he slipped out and rolled back with a sigh.

You spit his cum into your hand and crawled out from under the desk. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry, I had to-- fuck, I almost came with her right there.” He grabbed a tissue and handed it to you.

“You could’ve warned me,” You wiped your hand off with a grimace. “What was that anyway? Did you fuck her?”

“Why? You jealous?” He cleaned himself up and zipped up his pants.

“No,” You rolled your eyes. “But I did just suck you off within two feet of her as she obviously wanted to do the same.”

He laughed and pushed his shoulders back. “It was months ago. Before… us. There was a conference, there was wine, and I regret it.” He sighed. “And she looks back on it fondly but… lots of teeth and she was stiff as a fucking board.”

“Wow,” You said dryly and wiped your mouth. “You know, I’m barely surprised.”

“This… thing between you and I, it’s not--”

“It’s just a bit of fun. Trust me, I get it. I haven’t got time for anything but.” You tossed the kleenex in the small bin beside his desk. “Right? That’s what it is?”

“So much fun,” He assured you. “You wanna hang around till I’m finished?”

“Thought you already were,” You jibed. His brow furrowed and you grinned. “Sure,” You pulled up a chair. “I got nothing better to do.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” He said. “Besides, I might need some more help sooner than later.”

💋

You scribbled along the margin of your agenda and dropped the pen. The keys clacked beneath your fingers as you typed up a manic sentence. Your screen glowed back at you as the seconds ticked by with each letter. So enthralled by your task that the speck in your peripheral gave you a start.

You leaned back and turned your chair to face the man watching you. Loki’s lithe fingers swept up your golden pen and he admired the engraved letters beneath the fluorescent light. You watched him nervously as you pushed yourself away from your keyboard.

“Mr. Laufeyson.” You greeted him meekly. “I am just finishing the blurb you wanted.”

“Hard at work, as always,” He mused as he carefully set the pen back on your desk. “A beautiful pen…”

“A gift,” You smiled awkwardly.

“Well, I hate to interrupt you so I will let you finished,” His fingers brushed along your desk and he leaned on it as he casually cross his right leg in front of the other. “But when you have, I would like a moment in my office before you leave for the day.”

“Of course,” You affirmed. “It shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”

“As you will,” He stood straight and smoothed his jacket and buttoned it. “Then you are free to enjoy your weekend.”

“Okay,” You nodded and he turned away.

You watched him go, his strides long but lingering as he retreated to his office. The usual crowd had thinned out and Stacey was readying for her own departure. You spun back to your computer and resumed your work. Your second week down and not a stumble yet. You dared to be proud of yourself. Even, to be happy.

Another weekend ahead of you and you weren’t entirely excited. You liked being in the office; liked working with the other journalists, writers, and editors. Enjoyed your chance to shadow one of the most powerful men in New York publishing. And he had achieved it all at such a young age. You could only hope to achieve as much in the next fifteen years.

It was more than a bullet point for your resume, it was your own paradise.

So you finished up your blurb and attached it to an email. You logged out and packed up your agenda and pen beside your laptop. You pushed your chair in as you hooked your bag over your shoulder and trod tentatively to Loki’s office. You knocked on the open door and he looked away from his screen.

“Ah, there you are,” He beckoned you in with a wave. “Close the door behind you, please.”

You glanced back into the main office and did as he said. You stepped inside and sat across from him, your bag set down against the leg of the chair. His green eyes focused on you and he tilted his head as he absently traced his fingers over his phone. You fidgeted as you struggled not to shy away.

“I just wanted to check in,” He said. “And I was recently reviewing your references.”

“My references?” You wondered.

“Mmm,” He hummed. “Your professors speak highly of you. One of the reasons I even considered a second year, let alone one who had so suddenly changed majors, was a certain word on your behalf.”

“Okay?” You were confused and gripped the arms of the chair as you blinked at him dumbly.

“James Barnes has earned his tenure at the university and on occasion, he has written pieces for my own magazine. A respectable writer, admirable in his work both in teaching and otherwise. And when he proposed this workshop, the tours, I thought it was a charming idea. He proved me right so I had no doubt when he spoke to me of you.”

You gulped but said nothing. Your stomach churned and you brought your hands together and wrung them.

“You see,” He lifted his phone and blindly unlocked it. “You have lived up to his reference and your work is commendable…” He smirked as he flicked a finger across the screen. “But I still questions the veracity of his endorsement as I find his integrity has come into doubt.”

He set his phone down and slid it across the desk. He nodded for you to pick it up. You slid forward on your chair and took it. Your lips parted in horror as you stared at the screen. It was you and Bucky in the bookshop, your lips locked and his arms wrapped around you. You looked up, mortified, as the phone shook in your grasp.

“I…” The breath went out of you and you put the phone back on the desk before it could fall. “How did you--”

“It’s a quaint little shop.” He purred. “I venture in every now and then.”

You chewed your lip as your cheeks burned.

“You do realize that this could be… damaging. To you more than him.” He stood slowly and came around the desk to stand before you. “He has tenure, he is established. You, my dear, you’re barely getting started.”

You gaped up at him. The pet name unsettled you and you wiped your sweaty hands on your thighs.

“And aside from the ethical dilemma, I do wonder what a girl your age sees in a man his age. Especially when your work speak so boldly on its own.”

You shook your head, speechless.

“Surely there are boys your own age who would be delighted to offer you… companionship.”

“I never… I would never use him like that.” You insisted. “It’s all… my work. My own work.”

“Oh, I know it, dear,” He said as his lips curled. “But to risk that work on him? On an affair better fit to a dime store erotica?”

“Are you-- Are you going to report him? Me?” You asked. “Am I fired?”

“Well,” He leaned on the desk, his long fingers gripped it’s edge as he leered down at you. “That depends on you, my dear.”

“Me?” You squeaked.

“Oh yes, this is a very powerful secret, don’t you think?” He slithered. “And in our business, well, it would sell.”

“What do you want?” You asked.

He pushed himself away from the desk and reached to tickle your cheek. His fingers crawled along your chin and he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I haven’t yet made up my mind,” He bent so that his face was only inches from yours. “But when I do, my dear, you will appease me, won’t you?”

You shuddered but didn’t pull away. You were too frightened. A lock of his dark hair fell forward as his pale skin shone sinister in the lamp light. His green eyes bore into yours and you wanted desperately too look away.

“Y-yes,” You stammered weakly. “I--I will.”

“Very good,” He drew away slowly. “Now, darling, go enjoy your weekend.” He scooped up his phone and tucked it in his pocket. “And give the professor my regards.”

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calumance · 4 years

Note

Hi! First: I’m so in love with your hood family! 😍 Could you maybe do a blurb in which one of the boys has his first date & asks uncle ash for advice since he’s to embarrassed to ask his parents. & ash comes up with the “greatest advice“. When he comes over for dinner the next time, he asks if it worked. It did not. The kid is embarrassed & ash doesn’t understand the world anymore,since his advices “are always the greatest”. Maybe he decides it’s time for some „man time“ for him and the kid. (:

I hope this is what you were looking for 🙈🙈 Kind of wanted to make this longer but I shortened it a lot! Let me know what you think!! 🥰🥰

“I’m so excited for dinner tomorrow night.” The message on Aiden’s phone read. Aiden’s heart pounded, the nerves starting to build already. He sets his phone down next to him as he runs his fingers across his forehead. How was he even supposed to act on a first date? Was he supposed to pick her up? There was no way he was going to be able to drive his dad’s Range Rover, and there was no way he was going to pick a girl up in his mom’s car, the car seat in the back was too hard to get in and out. Maybe his parents had some advice to offer him.

Aiden abandoned his phone on his bed as he walked out of his room and towards the kitchen. When he looked out the back door, his parents were tangled together on a lounge chair. His mom leaning back with a book in her hand, lifted slightly since his dad’s head was resting on her chest. He was asleep, so his arms hung limp off the sides of the lounge chair, and their legs twisted together like a pretzel. Who was Aiden kidding? His parents have been so deeply in love with each other since the day they met that getting first date advise from them would be like asking them for help with his homework. They’ve done it before, but it’s been so long that it’s hard to remember how. Aiden sighed and made his way out the backdoor, “Mom, can I borrow your car for a few hours?”

His mom moved her book away from her face and pulled her sunglasses down to the end of her nose. “Where are you going to take it?” She barely moved, careful not to wake the sleeping man on her chest. He had been home from tour for only a couple of days, the lack of sleep still hitting him hard.

Aiden shifted his weight, he hated lying to his parents, but they didn’t really need to know what he was doing. “I just want to go into town and get an iced coffee or something. Tired of being stuck in the house on such a nice day.” Aiden shrugged, the fear of his mom catching onto him bubbling in his stomach.

She stared at him for a second, then finally pushed her sunglasses back up her nose and put her book back in front of her face. “They keys are hanging in the normal spot. Please be careful, text me every once in a while to keep me updated.” Aiden’s stomach settled as he turned on his heels to walk back into the house and grabbed his phone and they keys.

The front of his Uncle Ashton’s house looked a bit more inviting than it usually did. It was a quiet place Aiden went often when he wanted to hang out with someone who wasn’t his parents or his siblings. Ashton had even started to teach him to play the drums not too long ago. Aiden rang the doorbell and stuck his hands in his pockets. When Ashton opened the door, his hair was damp and he was shirtless. Aiden took a step back and Ashton immediately reached to the side to throw a shirt over his head. “Aiden, I wasn’t expecting you. What’s going on?” Ashton said, tugging on the bottom of his shirt.

“I need some advice.” Ashton pulled his eyebrows together and stepped off to the side, allowing Aiden to walk in. Ashton walked Aiden to the couch and sat down. “I’m taking this girl on a date tomorrow, and I’ve never been on a date that was just me and a girl. All the dates I’ve been on have been group dates. How do I even go about a date like that? My dad would never let me borrow his car.” Aiden continued to spill all of his concerns to his uncle. Ashton nodding every once in a while to let Aiden know he was still listening.

Over the next hour Ashton lined everything up for Aiden. Ashton told him that Aiden could borrow his car to make sure he picked the girl up in a nice car. He also told him how to be a cool guy, but a hot guy. Aiden ate up everything Ashton said, almost as if he were taking notes in his head, making sure to remember everything. The good news was Aiden left Ashton’s house feeling more confident than ever, the bad news was Ashton was also a little rusty when it came to first dates.

The date did not go the way Aiden had wanted it to go. She was interested in him until he started to pull out all of the seduction tips Ashton had given him. It was then that she started to be short with him and brush his hand away from hers every time he brushed his fingers over hers. “I’m sorry, Aiden, I just thought you were different. You seemed goofy and cute, and now you’re acting like someone I don’t even know.” She said to him as she ran her hand up and down her arm.

Aiden dropped his head into his hand and sighed. “I’m sorry, I was really nervous for this date so I asked my uncle for advice. He’s been on a lot more first dates than me so I thought he would be better at giving me advice than my parents who are so stupidly in love with each other that they can’t even define their first date.” Aiden looked up and shifted his weight, “I should’ve asked them anyway.” That earned him a giggle, her cheeks flushed a soft pink and she ran her hand down his arm. That was the only thing that saved the date from being a complete and utter disaster.

The day after the date, Ashton came over to have dinner with the Hood clan. Aiden came out of his room, smiling at the message his new found girlfriend sent him. “Ah, so the advice I gave you worked then!” Ashton exclaimed, seeming happy that he still knew how dates worked.

Aiden looked up at Ashton and looked around the room to see his parents outside manning the grill. Aiden made eye contact with Ashton and smiled. “Yeah, no, you’re advice did not work. She told me I was acting like someone else and was about to leave.” Aiden raised his eyebrows and dropped his phone and his hands into his pockets. “I saved it by apologizing and saying I got advice from my dumb uncle.” Aiden shrugged, a joking smirk pulling at his lips.

Ashton took a drink from his beer while shaking his head. “Back when I was your age, all of those things I told you to do would’ve killed with the ladies.” The glass bottle clinked as Ashton set it down on the granite counter top, “I just don’t understand the world anymore. Maybe you and I should have some ‘man time’ so you can teach me to act around the ladies.”

As Ashton raised his eyebrows, Aiden made his way closer to Ashton. “Sure, uncle Ash, ‘man time.’” Aiden patted Ashton on the shoulder before chuckling and heading out to the backyard to join his parents, Ashton following close behind him.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday @talkfastromance4

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blissfulparker · 5 years

Text

Not like us→fratboy!tom pt.1

Parings: fratboy!tom x reader

Warnings: pure angst

Summary: you over hear some things tom said to Harrison and it turns out your relationship has been something tom doesn’t want the rest of the world to see.

A/n: there will only be two parts to this but this was from a blurb requested by an anon and I got multiple requests to do a second part or make it into a fic so this is the extended version and also the first part! I have another frat boy tom fic this week along with ‘black beauty’ hope y’all enjoy!!

“I don’t wanna be rude or anything it’s just that...it’s just that people aren’t use to that type of stuff.”

It was Friday afternoon. After your last class of the week you found yourself curled up in Toms plaid comforter bed trying to cool off after a long stressful week. You were no stranger to his bed, or his room. You spent endless nights here studying, sleeping, cuddling, watching movies, the left side was your side and the right was Toms. Tom joked he slept closer to the door to protect you if anyone came in.

“I mean, yeah...you’ve been dating for about What? 5 months? If you wanna break up with her just do it now, it’s just gonna suck if you wait longer.” Harrison, Toms best mate since primary school, spoke loudly.

The kitchen, the boys were talking about you in the kitchen. You were awake now, trying to fix the mess on your head and wiping off mascara that moved in your sleep. You clung onto Toms university hoodie that smelt just like him and always made your stress go away.

“I love her though, I do. I just don’t want her to get hurt you know? Guys like me aren’t supposed to date girls like her.” Toms voice broke at the beginning but stayed strong at the end.

You, they were talking about you. You who’ve been dating the infamous campus fratboy Tom holland for about five months and it started over a broken down car, Taco Bell, and mental breakdowns. It was the stupid start to a loving relationship but you and tom were almost made for each other in the strangest way. You two were polar opposites that became one when the two of you were with each other.

“I get it, she’s kinda a dork...no offense.” Harrison spoke and you now cracked the door open to hear the conversation a little bit clearer. You didn’t know if any of the other boys were downstairs and you really didn’t want to find out.

“No I understand, she is. And like that’s the thing, she’s dorky and cute and all nerdy and I’m this fratboy who can chug a whole bottle of vodka in an hour if he tried. What does that say about us? More me specifically.” You look down at the jaw strings of the hoodie and mess with them. Was it safe for you to keep listening? No. Were you going to anyways? Yes.

“I’ve got a reputation to keep up, so does she. Remember Megan? Megan is the type of girl people want to see me with. Not (y/n), but I love (y/n). That’s the thing, I love her and people are going to hate us for that.” His voice was broken but it was almost like he’s been needing to rant for awhile now. You couldn’t go out there, what would you even say?

“Have you fucked?” Harrison’s bold statement made you step back. Tom was your first, it was two months in and you were 100% ready. Tom has had sex Dozens of Times But you, you were different because this time it was for love, not for fun.

“Of course, but it’s best if no one knows. Keeps her safe. Keeps our reputations high.” The sound of a beer bottle hitting the recycling bin made you crawl back into bed. Pretend you’re asleep and act like you’ve never heard a thing.

Everything made sense though why he never wanted to post pictures on Instagram, no snapchats, you never went to the parties—not that you wanted to anyways—never got super affectionate around his friends. Why Harrison was the only one to know about the relationship.

He was ashamed of you. He was embarrassed to be in love with you.

No, you weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. Not a party animal nor a outgoing person. You were simple, nerdy, studied hard, loved to stay in, hopeless romantic. You were a girl tom always dreamed about but never thought was real, and you were perfect but he knew other people didn’t think that.

“Baby?” Tom whispered and you sat up rubbing your eyes and pretending like you just woke up. “What’s wrong?” He noticed the tears and the red eyes and flushed look in your face.

“I—it’s—my allergies, they’ve been acting up. Seasons changing are the worse.” You lied and tom wrapped his arm around your waist. How could he act like this, a loving and adoring boyfriend, when he just claimed he was ashamed of you.

“Oh, I have some medicine if you want—“ he starts and you shake your head.

“It’s best if I go back to my dorm. Alone. I think I need a full nights rest.” You sniffle as you stand up and look over to his mirror and fix yourself up.

“Oh okay, text me when you get there please.” He hands you your backpack and kisses your forehead. The kiss felt sour against your skin, his lips no longer felt soft and plump but bitter and hard.

“I will.” You give a soft, fake smile before walking out. You pass Harrison who gives you a sweet smile before you exit the door.

He was ashamed, he was ashamed, he was ashamed. That’s all that ran though your head. You weren’t like Megan, his ex who was drop dead gorgeous—she cheated on him with two different guys so you have that huge advantage of not being an asshole—but she was still what he wanted. They were perfect, the light of every party.

People like you weren’t supposed to be with people like him. Study hard, nerdy, good grades, good girls, weren’t supposed to end up with frat boys like Tom Holland. Boys like him were supposed to be with party animals and adventurous people. Not you.

Boys like him are never supposed to be with girls like you.

Saturday evening, the next day.

Books scattered across your bed as you shoved information into your brain about chemistry. Your glasses have a glare and your roommate was out for the night. Normally you’d spend your Saturdays with tom but currently you didn’t know where he was and didn’t bother to see him. You didn’t respond all day and you made sure to let him know you wanted to be alone.

Two knocks. Two knocks on your front door is what made you jump and take out your headphones.

“I’m coming!” You shouted as you hopped off the bed and jogged over to the door.

There stood tom, two bags of Chinese food and a bag from wallgreens. He wore a skin tight green Ralph Lauren polo shirt and some joggers.

“You never told me if you made it home safe.” He pouted as he walked past you.

You forgot that your Saturday nights were perfect, cuddled up in bed, eating Chinese food and having messy makeout sessions.

“Sorry, my phone was off and I fell asleep.” You lied. He set the stuff down before opening the wallgreens bag.

“I got you some more medicine, and this green smoothie thingy? I dunno, the lady said it helps clear your sinuses. I kinda looks gross I wouldn’t drink it either.” He sets it down and you watch him with folded arms.

“Don’t you have a party to attended tonight?” Your voice bitter as you talk about the frat.

“It’s overrated. Saturday’s are meant for us and I like them this way.” He sets kicks off his shoes. You were mad and you didn’t know how to handle it, so you did it in the most petty way possible.

“No, lets go to the party, what’s the theme I bet I can find something.” You walk over to your closet. Tom follows you to stop you.

“Why would we do that? You hate parties remember? Too many people. We always stay in.” He grabs your hand and you can’t help but to feel your eyes water. He was an idiot, an actual idiot that you wish wasn’t so pretty.

“Why don’t you want me at your parties?” You step back and he furrows his brows.

“Peach, What are you talking—“ He starts and you shake your head.

“You can at least invite me! An offer would be nice! But you never did, because I’m too dorky and nerdy to be around you. Or maybe it’s because I’m not like your other Ex girlfriends in the past.” You sniffle and he steps closer.

“Are you on your period? What’s happening? Who’s telling you all this?” He stands there clueless and you wipe your nose.

“You! Yesterday I woke up from my nap and I heard you and Harrison talking. ‘People Like me shouldn’t be with girls like her’ and ‘I’ve got a reputation to keep up’? What the fuck tom!” You shout at him and he steps back.

You heard all of it and it was hitting tom. He never meant any of it, not in the way you took it. He just didn’t want people teasing you, making fun of you, bullying you, he wanted to keep you safe. He was also selfish, he knew that if he took you to one of his parties you’d get taken advantage of. He would leave you for one second and you’d be gone, he can’t even think of the worse case scenario or else it would hurt him.

“You know, I know I’m not super popular nor am I this victoria secret model but I’m not embarrassed to be around you nor am I ashamed which I probably should be because smart girls can’t be with guys like you!” You say out of anger and now tom gives a look.

“Are you calling me dumb?” He asks and you walk over to your bed.

“You didn’t listen to me at all! You are the one who said all these things and that was only the stuff I heard! What else did you say, Huh? I want to know.” You wipe your eyes and he shakes his head.

“Nothing! I said nothing else! Harrison just asked me why I never post with you or why the other boys don’t know about you it’s to keep you safe! It’s only to keep you safe! The people I hang out with are not good people and I just don’t want anything bad happening to you!” His face was red and you wanted nothing more than to run out and never speak to him again.

“I’m a fucking adult I can take care of myself! You’re the one who said that people will care if they know about us. I don’t care about my reputation, Holland! I have absolutely nothing to lose, it’s you who are selfish and it’s you who still wants to be the golden boy of the circle. The one thing that I have that all those other girls don’t is fucking loyalty, and trust, and I give a shit about you! They don’t! Megan cheated on you and I would never even think of that! Sydney only used You for sex and popularity and guess what tom? I’m not doing that because I actually love you but it’s very obvious that you only care about yourself.” You grab your keys and purse which causes tom to freak out even more.

“What are you doing?” He stops you but you yank away and keep going.

“I need time to cool down, im going for a drive. When you decide what you want to do with us, come find me.” You storm off leaving tom in your dorm.

Tom fucked up. He did that a lot but most of the time he could find a simple way out of fucking up. This time he couldn’t, He was about to loose the most valuable thing in his life.

The most logical thing for him to do was not chase after you. You didn’t want him to chase after you anyways, you wanted him to figure out what he wanted not for him to beg on his knees for your love. He stormed out of your dorm as well, leaving everything he’d brought and went back to his frat house.

He couldn’t forget though that there’d be a party in about two hours, the boys were setting up and tom stormed in and ruined their mood.

“Hey! Look who showed up to help!” Yelled one of the boys, Alex.

“Hey mate, you alright?” Harrison stopped him. Bright red eyes, heavy breathing, tension in his whole body, he was pissed.

“Leave me be.” He mumbled and Harrison stopped him again. The whole frat was looking at him, even the extra friends who came to help out.

“Hey, What happened? Where’d you go?” Haz stops and tom tries to push past him.

“She heard, she fucking heard everything and all the shit—“ tom started and everyone was confused but Haz.

“(Y/n)?” Haz says and immediately everyone goes to shock.

“Woah man, you’re fucking (y/n)? Nice!” One said and Haz gave a look to the boy. The rest were confused with who you even were.

“Let me go, please.” Tom had tears back in his face and Haz let him run up into his room like a child. He didn’t know where you were and didn’t know what he’d say if he called you.

You had found yourself at the place where it all started, the place where your car broke down at 12:00am trying to get home from the library and tom just happened to be driving around that night.

“Hey, are you okay?” A thick voice pulled you out of your crying and knocked on your window. You had your hazard lights on and pulled to the side.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just my car broke down.” You sniffle and he helped you out of the car and popped the hood.

“Can you call someone to tow it? I don’t think I can really help you here.” He asked and you nodded calling your insurance and trying to figure the most out.

“So uhh, you’ve got someone coming?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you.” You smile at the stranger and he stands there. “You can leave...” you trail off and he shakes his head.

“It’s midnight and it’s a college campus, not so safe to leave a pretty girl alone.” He goes to lean up against his car.

“Thanks.” You wipe your eyes and start to feel yourself cry some more. It was a really long week. Tom jumped up and came over to hold you. Comfort you, make You feel safe.

That was the start of your relationship

He helped you call someone to get it towed and offered to get you some food to help you calm down. The first time you met tom you were crying while eating a burrito from Taco Bell in the back of his car. The fratboy held you in his arms and let you cry all that you felt that day.

Now it was different. It was just you. No tom, no broken car, no Taco Bell, nothing.

Tom holland had broken your heart, how did you not see that coming? Maybe it was because you were blinded by the British charm and the white lopsided smile and floppy curly hair. Maybe if you weren’t as naïveté as other girls then you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation.

If you could go back five months ago and just stay at the library a little longer and have someone else help you, you would’ve. If you could go back and jut say thank you instead of saying yes to his dates, you just might’ve.

The last thing you wanted to feel was tom Holland’s little secret.

Some tags(because my perm tag list is too long): @thollandss @quitetommy @keepmeholland @spiderboytotherescue @delicatepeterparker @candlelightparker @klusterffucked @stormyholland @spiderboytingle

#fratboy!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #college!tom #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #imagine tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you

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hes-a-rainbow · 4 years

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Locked Away

A/N: Never believe me when I say I’m writing a ‘blurb’ because apparently I’m incapable of it. Anyway, please enjoy this short little one shot that’s basically just harry being cute af 👜

Based on prompt from here!

“Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: None!

P.S. thank you @harrywavycurly for this “anon” 🥰

Please reblog if you enjoy!

You push open the large front door, “Harry?” Your voice echoes throughout the expanse of his vast entry way. You close the door behind you, kicking your shoes off to the side before walking towards the stairway to the second floor.

“Harry?” You repeat a little louder this time. He knew you were supposed to meet here at noon for brunch but when you texted him that you were here, he didn’t respond. You could only hope that he didn’t fall back asleep because you were sure when you factored in traffic, you were going to be at least fifteen minutes late for your reservation.

The door leading to the master bedroom is cracked open but you still knock out of courtesy in case he is getting dressed, “H?” The squeak of the hinges make your cringe as you slowly sneak them open. It wasn’t your first time in there but you had only been there a handful of times and still weren’t quite comfortable just charging in.

The bed is still unmade but you’re just happy he’s still not sleeping in it. There’s some of his clothes tossed on the floor carelessly along with his black leather gucci crossbody sitting on his dresser. You can see the light underneath the bathroom door and can hear him banging around as he gets ready for the day. The fan in the bathroom is on, evaporating the steam from the shower indicating why he hadn’t heard you in the first place.

You walk over and knock a little too loud just in case he was still in the shower.

“H?” You repeat again, starting to feel like you’re playing hide and go seek with your younger cousins. The door swings open and you are greeted by a smiley Harry, “Hi love!” He wraps you up into his arms and you can smell his shampoo as his still damp hair tickles at your nose.

“Hey,” You squeak out as you return his hug, “I thought maybe you were still sleeping.” He pulls away but keeps his hands on your hips, thumbs grazing them slightly. “Well I won’t lie to you, it took everything in me to actually get out of bed this morning. I didn’t know it was possible to hit the snooze button so many times.”

You roll your eyes, knowing how dramatic he could be sometimes, “Long night?”

“Not really,” He removes his hands from you as you both walk out from the bathroom, hearing the click and silence of the light switch and fan being turned off behind you. “Was home by eleven but the two bottles of wine definitely didn’t help.” You stood in the middle of the room as your eyes watched Harry enter his huge walk in closet. “How was work anyway? Did you get everything finished?”

“Yeah, you know how it goes, same old shit, different day.” You plop yourself down on the end of his bed, examining the cuticles on your fingers. You hear the clanking of metal before Harry walks out pulling a black belt through the loops of his corduroy pants. “Mitch and Sarah keep asking about you.” A blush washes over your face at the mention of his best friends taking any interest in you. You had only been on a few dates with Harry and had yet to meet any of his friends. Last night you were supposed to go with him for dinner at Mitch and Sarah’s when you got caught up at work helping with a deadline that technically wasn’t even for your department.

“I’m starting to think they think I made you up or summat.” He gives you a smirk as he walks over to the dresser and places his signature rings on their designated fingers.

“Ah, I know. I don’t want them to think I blew them off or anything.” You play with the hem of his comforter, feeling guilty for canceling on him last minute even if it was for work. He had been trying to get you to meet Mitch and Sarah for a few weeks now, ready to take the next step with you which made you more than a bit anxious and a bit confused on where you two stood since you technically weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend yet.

“Nah, they understood.” He lifts the leather crossbody over his head, dropping it so it lands just above his hip. “We can plan something for another time. Maybe dinner here?” He checks his bag to make sure he has his keys, phone, and wallet before looking to where you sit on the edge of his bed. He sighs a little before taking the few steps until he’s in front of you. He takes your face in his hands, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Your eyebrows raise in bewilderment.

“You’ve been here for longer than five minutes and I haven’t even told you how beautiful you look today.” It was little things like this that made you fall for Harry in the first place. He could always manage to make you swoon with just a look and make your heart jump with just a sentence.

You blush and look to the floor, still not used to being doted over, “Ah, thank you.” He raises your face to look at him before you see his eyes look down to your lips and back to your eyes. He leans in closer, “Hi.” he whispers onto your lips with a smirk. Your lips grow into a smile as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a proper kiss. It starts off innocent, just a few pecks here and there, but when he tilts his head and pulls you closer, you can’t help but follow along.

Suddenly with his mouth on yours, the last thing you’re thinking of is making your brunch reservations. Your fingers tangle into the hairs on the nape of his neck and he hums in agreement before slipping his tongue in your mouth. You would never grow tired of kissing Harry and in some ways, every kiss made you fall for him even more. A loud ping breaks you two out of your reverie and you both jump at the sudden sound, hearts somehow managing to beat even faster than before.

“Sorry,” You mumble against his lips as you pull your phone out of your bag. “S’okay,” he responds while taking a step further back to let you stand. “It’s the restaurant.” You announce. You can see Harry adjusting his pants in your peripheral vision. “They want to know if we’re still on for our reservation.” You look up to Harry who has a cheeky look on his face and you know he’s thinking about canceling brunch all together for some other activities.

“It’s up to you.” He responds looking a bit flushed in the face. As much as you really want to stay here with Harry, you have also been waiting weeks for this reservation, having told Harry he wasn’t allowed to use his name to get a table quicker. It was a beautiful new restaurant right on the beach and you had only heard amazing things about the food.

“I was really looking forward to it…” You turn the ring on your finger around a few times before meeting his eyes. He offers you a genuine smile, “Then let’s go.” He holds out his hand for you to take which you gladly accept. “You’re not mad?” You ask sheepishly as you puzzle your fingers together.

“What? No!” He grabs your hand in both of his and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the knuckles, “Of course not.” Your breath hitches a bit in your throat at his reply.

“Okay?” He inquires leaning his head towards your and nudging your noses together. You swat him away but keep your hand tightly in his and nod your head. You both walk out of his room and down the hallway to descend the stairs as Harry begins to tell you a story Mitch had told him last night. “...and then this lady starts shouting at him for no reason! As if it was his fault in the first place. God, I really would pay good money to see the reaction on his face as this lady tore him apart…” You two finally reach the end of the staircase and walk towards the front door. “Oh wait! You have to see this video I found last night, it’s literally you the other week when we went to the beach.” Harry scrambles to get his phone out of his purse (with only one hand as he keeps his other clasped with yours).

When he finally manages to get a hold of it, he lets out a small sound of victory and you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics. As he holds the phone up to his face to unlock, you notice his lock screen is different from the picture he had of his mom’s cat that had been gracing his screen since you two first met. His phone unlocks too quickly for you to get a proper look at what it is now.

“Wait! What happened to Mitzy?” He looks up at you and then back at his phone before his eyebrows begin to raise in thought. “Oh--um--she’s great. Wh-what do you mean?” He locks his phone and slides it into his back pocket seemingly forgetting the reason he pulled it out in the first place.

“We should get going if we want to make it in time.” He begins to walk away but you manage to pull him back with your hand that was still in his. “Harry. What is it? A picture of your girlfriend or something?” You let out a weak laugh but when he doesn’t laugh along you start to feel the familiar dread as your heart drops. You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest, bracing yourself for what he’s going to say next and all the scenarios in your head aren’t helping one bit.

“No!” You can see panic wash over his features as he grabs his phone back out from his pocket, “it’s not--it’s nothing--” He stumbles over a few more sounds before he finally sighs, running his hand over his face, “It’s sorta embarrassing.” You just stand there and look at him as if he has grown a second head.

He hands you his phone but doesn’t unlock it. The screen lights up before you and you are greeted with a black and white photo. Your heart beats faster the longer you look. You can remember the day just fine, Harry had taken you out to a small restaurant and you had both sat on the balcony that was draped with edison lights to keep it a light even on the darkest of nights. You saw yourself staring at something off camera, a smile baring your face as you seemed to be in mid laugh. You hadn’t seen this photo before, or even known Harry had taken it.

The screen shuts off and you are met again by your shocked reflection in the black mirror. “Am I your lockscreen?” Your eyebrows crease as you meet Harry’s eyes and for the first time since you met him he seems unsure of himself.

“Uh yeah,” He coughs a bit as he toes the hardwood floor beneath him, “I thought it was just a really nice picture and-and…” His green eyes met with yours, “God, it’s weird right? Mitch said it was weird but I told him he was full of it. And you weren’t supposed to see that! And like I know we aren’t like exclusive or anything but I mean I am seeing you exclusively. And I’m--I’m not trying to say you have to be exclusive with me because you don’t, and that’s okay, yeah, that your choice, obviously. It’s--It’s really just a picture that I thought was nice. I have a whole bunch of pictures of random people I don’t even know! Granted they're not my lockscreen but--”

“Harry!” You finally shout to snap him out of his nervous rambling that you’re pretty sure would have just kept going. He sighs, “Yeah?” He looks worried and it makes your stomach flip.

“It’s cute.” You bite your lip trying to hold back your smile. “It’s cute?” He repeats back as if he’s not sure he actually heard you right. “Yeah,” You hand his phone back over to him and it takes him a split second before he’s reaching out for it. “It is a good picture.” He nods slowly as he slips his phone into his back pocket.

He gnaws on his lip and you can tell he’s trying to figure out how to word something. “It’s not,” He clears his throat, “It’s not like weird because we’re not like exclusive, right?” He turns the rings around on his fingers as he waits for your response.

“I don’t think it’s weird.” He nods along before you add, “And just so you know,” His entire expression perks up as he awaits your next statement, “I’m not like...seeing anyone else either, ya know?”

He takes a step closer to you, “Yaren’t?” You shake your head no, “I just thought it was pretty obvious…”

“Please,” He grabs your hands in his holding it up to his chest, “if you ever think anything is obvious to me, it isn’t.” You laugh but he continues, “Literally I’m so stupid when it comes to this stuff. Just ask me or tell me because I basically have no idea what’s going on half the time.”

“Will do.” He lets out a dramatic sigh and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Just one thing,”You begin and he looks at you with curious eyes, “If somebody sees that and asks who that is, what are you going to say?” You don’t mean to trick him but you genuinely wonder what his answer will be.

A smile grows on his face as he wraps his arms around your waist, “Well, I guess, and only if this is okay with you,” You nod for him to continue you, “I guess I would say it’s... my girlfriend.”

You give him a quick peck on his cheek, “I could see myself being okay with that.”

“Oh yeah?” He pulls you in closer and gives you a quick kiss on your lips which lead to another, and another and another before you pull back whispering, “Hey Harry,” He hums in response as he sponges kissed on your jawline, “Fuck brunch.”

Thanks for reading and I hoped you enjoyed! Please reblog if you liked!

Masterlist 🌈

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #tpwk #harry styles love on tour #one direction #one direction one shot #one direction smut #one direction fic #one direction blurb #one direction fluff

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silentexplorer18 · 3 years

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Author Interview Tag!

I just wrote this whole thing out and tumblr deleted it. Not mad at all.

Thank you to the wonderful @celestialceci for tagging me in this! 💙 It was really fun to sit down and relax from a long day of school by answering these questions until tumblr struck again lol.

Name: Silent. I don't know why I picked this username, but here we are!

Fandoms: Oh gosh. Currently deep into Harry Potter, and I have several TVD/The Originals fics demanding to be written. I've been reading quite a bit of Newsies and The 100. And apparently Tom Holland?? Is? A Thing?? Now?? I still haven't rented his movies yet, but they've somehow sucked me in.

Where you post: Everything ends up on AO3. Most things end up on Tumblr (or are linked to elsewhere on my masterlist). Some things end up on Wattpad. But everything everywhere is under silentexplorer18.

Most popular oneshot: We Can Never Be Friends (Drarry, Explicit) has the most hits. The Howler (Drarry, T+) has the most kudos though I don't know why. Both by AO3 cause tumblr stats are confusing lol.

Most popular multichap: Inarguably Desperate Developments (Drarry, T+).

Favorite story you've written so far: I really love my current WIP Failed Education (Draco x Reader). I also really love Battle Scars (Drarry), though the writing isn't without flaw. And I really enjoy Abandoned (Colby), though I no longer support SnC.

Fic you were nervous to post: Desperate Developments. Multichaps are difficult, and I was so worried it wasn't very good.

How you choose your titles: I either use the 'sum up the plot/setting' approach or the 'pull a line from the text and use it as a title' approach (though sometimes the text finds a way to incorporate the title). For songfics, I tend to use lyrics (speaking of, I also really like 27's plot).

Do you outline: Ish? My outlines are essentially a paragraph of summary/ideas, and then the fic is written underneath while I cross off what the paragraph covers. It works okayish. It's currently not helping with my monster of a WIP 😂

Complete: AO3 puts me at 65 woah once my latest WIP is completed next week. I was on a roll at some point lol.

In progress: Currently I have one George Weasley multichap, two Drarry fics, one Draco x Reader fic, one Kol Mikaelson x reader fic, and one HxH fic that may or may not have a 1k word outline in the works. A few of these are currently sitting on the backburner, but I love all of them and can’t wait to finish them.

Coming soon/not started: 😬 Counting the WIPs for my current fandoms plus the pile of dead fics I have for Colby that I hope to rework into fandoms I'm comfy writing, I've got about 60 which is as outrageous as it sounds.

Prompts? I really enjoy prompts. They're fun. I want to do another blurb night once I get through my finals because those are always so exciting. But I do have a few prompts that I haven’t been able to get anywhere with yet (sorry folks).

Upcoming work you're most exicted about: If I can get the rest of my George multichap figured out and written, I have a feeling it'll be great. I love the plot I have figured out so far. But I also love the ending I have for Failed Education coming out next week.

Tagging: @ilguna (love ya Q), @slytherinbarnes (I thought these could be fun to apply to chapters or future WIPs 😊), @stuckonspidey (if you’re feeling up to it), @candybarrnerd (sending love, Le!), @im-a-writer-right (for when you come back), and @alxmeg (hello, friend!). No worries if you’re not up to it, but just in case you’re in the mood for something fun. 😁 And if you’re not tagged but decide to do it anyway, tag me!! I can never have enough fics on my list to read!

#tag game #celestialcece #silent talks #and apparently fights computers #I hope everyone's doing well and taking care of themselves!#sending love!

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hattywatch · 5 years

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J. Vesey - The Importance of Teamwork

Request #1: If you’re still up to doing any jimmy content could you maybe do a college jimmy best friends to lovers blurb of him taking care of you while at a party and like making sure you don’t have too much to drink but still letting you have fun. Maybe even him walking you home or something cute like that

Request #2: Can you do a harvard vesey imagine where you meet in one of your classes. Fast forward you’re dating him, you cheer at all his games and he invites you to all fam events, by graduation you two move in together in nyc. Thnx!!

A/N: This is very on brand (tm) for me. it is 19 pages and about Jimmy Vesey. I worked with the two requests above, which are SO OLD. I’m sorry but it is COMPLETE :) As always, thank you to my babies, @hockeyandtaylorswift and @xolilyxo for being cute and lovely and encouraging <3 Additionally, I am aware Jimmy was 21 the summer of his junior year and that he went to worlds that summer, but this is fiction- thank you for your suspended disbelief.

“Teams of 4, due in two weeks!” Professor Blanch shouts as the first wave of students make their way to the door.

Why any professor felt the need to assign a group anything at one of America’s most prestigious universities was just beyond you, especially before a coffee. You wait for your friend, Mallory, to finish scribbling into her planner.

“I’m starving, write faster,” you tug at her hood, but she finishes up her sentence anyway.

“We need to find two more friends for this assignment,” Mallory drops her planner into her purse and closes her laptop, following you out the door and into the courtyard.

“No new friends,” you say it loud enough that the boy behind you hears, and he slides forward in between you and Mallory, wrapping his arm around her waist, “What about an old friend?”

“Tom, no, you suck at group projects.” Despite her vitriol, she lets him leave his arm wrapped around her. Mallory and Tom dated in middle school, it was cute and short lived, but they’ve stayed close, the way you can when you date at the tender age of 13.

“I do! However, I came prepared,” he looks past you, and Tom has been running his mouth for so long, you failed to realize the boy standing to your left, just a step or two behind you.

“Jimmy’s wicked smart," Tom nods at his friend over your head.

Yeah, Jimmy’s wicked something that’s for sure. Your mind doesn’t immediately jump to smart, more like handsome, but the longer you stare, you’d venture to say he's probably wicked awkward too.

“Jimmy, don’t let him slide by on his good looks,” Mallory pushes Tom with her shoulder, “He’s gotta use that brain of his sometime."

Jimmy laughs. It makes you laugh too, because it seems like he's trying to hold in the sound before it makes its way out into the open; a burst of a chuckle left in the chilly air.

"Tom doesn't have a brain. But he's a good wingman so I keep him around," Jimmy's no longer a step behind the group and it appears you and Mallory have found your foursome.

"We're going to get food, but I'm making the executive decision that we're a team now. Tom, make a group text and well figure out a time to meet. See you guys later," you tug Mallory towards the dining hall and wave goodbye to the boys.

"At least we know we'll pass now," Mallory plops her tray down on the table across from you, "Tom's friend, Timmy? He's like a fuckin' genius apparently."

"Jimmy," you make out through your sandwich.

"Right. Is Tom looking really good these days? Or is it just me?" Mallory looks thoughtful for a moment before she digs into her burger, "I'm going to give him another shot, I think." You nod, you liked Tom, and you know for a fact he's always had a soft spot for Mal.

"You should." She smiles at you over her french fries and just like that it's decided. You're going to get Mal her man.

______

Everyone decides it's best to work in Jimmy's dorm, his roommate is never there, so he has reign of the common room most weekends.

You text Mal as you cross Elm Yard and she's running late as usual. She tells you she'll be there soon, which means she isn't even vertical yet.

Stopping outside of Weld, you take a second before you call Jimmy. Weld is beautiful and you wish your dorm was there instead of Canaday, but at least your roommates are great so you can't complain much.

Jimmy answers the phone and says he'll meet you at the entrance; you wait for him patiently. The weather is beautiful, so you don't mind; a mild day, warm enough that a sweatshirt was sufficient.

"Hey, sorry," he huffs out a breath and moves to the side so you can enter the hall and start climbing the stairs. "I realized it was kind of a mess up there, I was cleaning a little when you called." You nod, understanding how college boys tend to be.

After three flights you're getting a little winded, "Jesus, your dorm on the roof?"

"It's actually on the first floor, I'm just trying to help you get your cardio up," he says it so dry and matter-of-fact that you're sure he's serious; you're about to turn around and slap him. When you whip your head around to give him a death glare, he's got mirth in his eyes and you can tell he's kidding.

"I almost slapped you." You face forward and keep trudging up the stairs." He tugs your sweatshirt as you start to climb to the fifth floor. "I was a little worried. Thought you might push me down the stairs. This is me though, four."

He unlocks the door and lets you in. It's actually pretty tidy, which means he shoved all the mess away in his bedroom. You know, because you've done the same thing when you were expecting people in your dorm.

"Tom's not here yet?" You look around before plopping your backpack onto the floor next to a plush looking couch.

"He was here, but he decided to go get us all breakfast. So he'll be back in a bit." Jimmy sits in the arm chair and motions for you to sit on the couch before he kicks his feet up onto the table.

"Tom thought of that all on his own? That was nice of him." You're skeptical because while Tom has always been a very good friend, he's not really a thoughtful planner. Jimmy looks skittish, but leans forward and drops his feet down to the floor.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He drops his voice conspiratorially.

You lean in, butt on the edge of the couch and nod solemnly, "You can."

"He really likes Mallory. We talked about it last night and he wanted an idea that wasn't too pushy or over the top to start out, so breakfast and coffee is what we came up with."

Your heart kind of swells a little in your chest, because that's adorable: two bros plotting how to be semi-romantic. It also helps to know Tom's feelings; it makes your life a little easier to know he's interested.

You decide right there that you genuinely like Jimmy. He's a good guy to help his friend out and he seems respectful about the whole thing, so it's really serving to put him in your good graces.

"Should we start without them? Mal's running late too- because of who she is as a person," Jimmy huffs a breath out of his nose in what you assume is a vaguely amused response.

"Absolutely not; Tom's love life is not coming before this. It's 25% of our grade." He's right, really. You don't want to do extra work because Mal can't be bothered to be awake before 11 am on a Saturday.

"So, while we wait... " You're feeling a little awkward, sat in Jimmy's space when you barely know anything about him, but you don't want to be pushy and chatter his ear off either.

"I'm Jimmy, I'm from Massachusetts and my major is economics," he stands up and waves, like the professors make you do on the first day of your freshman classes and it makes you laugh.

"Okay, I'm (y/n), and I'm also from here and my major is government… and I like long walks on the beach?" He smiles dopey at you and you notice his sweatshirt for the first time.

"Oh, do you play on the team?" The crimson Harvard Hockey emblem splashed across his broad chest.

His face gets rosy, but he looks proud when he answers, "Yeah, I do."

That's when Tom walks into the common room, Mal and the rustle of bags tagging along behind him. "Don't be shy Vesey. He'll probably be captain next year!"

"We should come see a game! School spirit, ya know?" Mal says in between sips of her coffee. Jimmy nods, but his face gets impossibly rosier and you can see the color drip down his neck.

"Yeah, that'd be cool," Jimmy smiles and clears his books off of the coffee table to make way for breakfast. "After this we need to get started. I have practice tonight."

_______

The hot chocolate burns your tongue a little but it's worth it, "a part of the experience," Jimmy had insisted. He did not mention how freezing you'd be sitting a few rows off the ice, patiently waiting for Mal to show up with gloves and hats, her habitual lateness being useful, for once.

It's still early before the game and the teams take the ice for warm ups. You go down to the front and press your free hand against the cold glass. When you see Jimmy you bang your palm against it, your ring clanking shrilly and turning Jimmy's head.

He waves and skates over, spraying ice on the glass and getting you to duck even though it isn't high enough to make it over the boards.

"Hey, you came." It's the closest Jimmy gets to excited. You've been hanging out with him more, especially since you two have joined forces to get Mal and Tom together, and you know it's high praise, despite the steady tone his voice maintains.

"I did. You gotta score a goal now," he raises his eyebrows and they disappear under his helmet. "To impress me, obviously,” shrugging you continue, “I mean, you drag me out here on a Friday night, better make it worth my while."

"You wouldn't know a good play if it danced around in front of you naked in Dobby's tea cozy," he smiles, an actual wide smile that's so rare, but this is why you and Jimmy became such fast friends. He teases you as much as you tease him, not to mention that dry sarcasm. It gets right into your chest and endears him to you. What a nerd.

"I've been doing research!" You shout as he laughs before popping his mouth guard back in and skating away towards his teammates who are clearly missing him in warm ups.

"Stop flirting and take some of this shit from me before I drop it," Mallory bowls into you, Tom hot on her tail holding two steaming cups from Dunkin. She really came in handy today, her arms are laden with hats and gloves and two blankets. You take your share and leave her with only one blanket, so she and Tom are forced to snuggle up together.

"Not everyone has to flirt with every male they see, Mallory. Don't project." She rolls her eyes as she pulls on her own hat and gloves and takes her drink from Tom.

The game is quick. As soon as the puck drops you can tell tensions are high. Cornell put together a really good team this year, you know this because you really have been doing research. You and Jimmy get lunch together a lot and hang out, with or without Mal and Tom, at least once a week. It only seems fair that you look into his biggest passion.

You think you read somewhere that games like this are referred to as "chippy." You're thankful when the first period ends and you can finally take a whooshing breath.

Tom must hear you, "This is sort of a rough game for it to be your first. We kind of have a thing with Cornell," he grimaces. Jimmy had told you as much, but you didn't think you'd be so worried seeing him wiz around in the ice, hardly dodging bodily harm.

"It's fun though," you say, because it's the truth. It's doubly enjoyable since you have a stake in the outcome, and can only hope you'll all be out celebrating come the end of the game.

The second period flies by as fast as the first and before you know it it's halfway through the third. Cornell has been up by 1 most of the game, but a rogue shot at Harvard's goalie finds Jimmy in the corner and he carries it up the ice and through Cornell's defensemen and shelfs it over the goalie's shoulder. He points over at you with his stick and a laugh bubbles out of your chest at the theatrics, but you clap and cheer with the rest of the building.

If Mal and Tom send a sidelong look your way, it is promptly ignored in favor of your formerly hot chocolate.

Apparently Cornell's defenseman considers this goal to be a personal affront, because he finds Jimmy celebrating behind the net and slams him against the boards. The home crowd makes their displeasure known and the ref sends him to the box for unsportsmanlike conduct.

Apparently two minutes isn't enough for him to cool off, since he finds Jimmy seconds after his next face-off and drops his gloves. The crowd is on their feet at once.

You've known Jimmy for almost the entire semester at this point, but you definitely haven't seen this side of him quite yet. He's furious, left hand wound in the shoulder of the d-man's jersey, right hand doing more damage than the opposing player expected. Jimmy is big compared to you, tall and lean towering over you, but he's slight when stacked up against a lot of the other players on the ice, slimmer and more wiry in build.

Despite the weight advantage of Cornell in this particular brawl, Jimmy is the one left standing at the end. You join the crowd in shouting his name. Two syllables, VE-SEY VE-SEY, over and over again until the refs eject them both from the game with less than 4 minutes remaining in the period. At least it's all tied up as Jimmy skates to the tunnel, helmet off and mouth still running.

They win of course. Bolstered by the adrenaline that a good bout of fisticuffs brings, the captain nets one with a minute left putting Harvard up by one. Cornell fails to tie it again before the end of the third.

You all wait around in the entrance of the rink, it feels good to strip out of the winter wear and be a normal temperature again. A bunch of the team passes through, bags over their shoulders and hair still damp from the post-game shower.

Jimmy is one of the last few out, he's talking lowly but animatedly to- who Tom identifies as- the team's captain. When he sees you all standing around waiting he nods his goodbyes to his captain and walks towards you. Under his eye you can just make out some discoloration which will surely be an impressive bruise tomorrow.

You hold out a fist for Jimmy to bump, "I may not know much, but good game. That was awesome, Vesey." He bumps your fist but wrinkles his nose at you. He hates when girls call him by his last name. "Reminds me of my coach," he had told you one night after he was gently rebuffed by a pretty redhead at the bar.

" 's a good game to be your first," he continues after thanking Tom and Mal for coming as well. You all walk outside to your cars, Mal and Tom walking slightly ahead of you and Jimmy- laden with his heavy hockey bag. They're walking close and talking softly to each other.

You bump Jimmy's arm with your shoulder and point up ahead at them, raising your eyebrows and smiling. He looks ahead and nods proudly at you, throwing an elbow back your way, comrades in arms.

Tom and Jimmy do a little bro handshake when they get back to their cars and decide to hit up a bar across town, Tom and Mal hop in and promise to get a table so Jimmy has time to return his bag to his dorm first.

You wait for Jimmy to shove the heavy duffle into his trunk before he turns around. "Did they drive you here? You need a ride?"

"No, I'm parked over there," you jerk your thumb behind you," I just wanted to make sure you got to your car okay and weren't concussed," you give him a sideways smile and he rolls his eyes at you.

"I scored you a goal just like you asked and this is the respect I get? Sad.” You shrug but start walking backwards to your car as Jimmy clicks his key fob to unlock his doors. “I’ll pick you up at your place? You deserve to celebrate. I’ll be DD tonight.” Jimmy places his hand over his heart and tilts his head sideways.

“Knew this friendship would pan out for me eventually.” You flip him off, but follow him to his dorm anyway.

________

It’s really lucky that Tom and Mal went ahead to get a table because the place is packed. As you and Jimmy flash your IDs (albeit fakes) to the bouncer, he walks ahead of you, breaking up the crowd so you can get through, his hand trails behind him for you to hold onto so you don’t get separated. You take it and squeeze it in thanks. He leads you over to where Mal and Tom have already secured a table.

They’re cozied up next to each other, so you slide into the inside of the booth and Jimmy sits beside you. The boys talk over the game and you don't miss the way Tom relaxes, leaning back against the booth with his arm around Mal. It feels like a job well done.

"Jim?" He breaks his conversation with Tom to look over at you, "I'll pay for drinks if you go to the bar?" You offer, hopeful that you won't have to bully your way through the crowd to the bartender.

"I thought you were DD tonight?" He looks at you sideways, but takes your card anyway.

"We can probably call a cab and leave my car here?" He smiles at the idea of a loose night out with his friends and agrees, "Alright, I got next round then."

You don't miss the whack Mal gives Tom. It's definitely not as sly as she thinks it is. "I'll get us another round too," the men make their way to the bar through the thick crowd and Mal turns on you.

"You and Jimmy look cute together," leave it to Mal to drop a bomb like that and go back to sipping her drink like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Stop, we're friends," you warn her gently. "And the focus right now is you and Tom." You take the time to follow her eye line to the boys, waiting patiently at the bar for their drinks.

You're still looking when a petite brunette makes her way over to him and taps him on the shoulder. He spins around and glances down to see who the offender is and his eyes shine with recognition as he hugs her hello.

Without being dishonest, your heart drops a little bit. She's really pretty; petite and well dressed. Mal catches your eyebrows, knit into a furrow as you chew on your cheek. "You just said you didn't like him."

It's more defensive than you want it to sound when you assure her, "I didn't- I don't" you stammer, knowing she's trapped you, "It's just, we're all here together- it's a friends night. I don't know. It's stupid."

Tom starts making his way back with another round for him and Mal, but Jimmy sips his beer and nods along to whatever she's saying before the bartender places a basket of fries on the counter and Jimmy dips down to hug her again and points over to where you're sitting before he picks up both drinks in one large hand, the fries in the other and starts back to the table.

He plops everything down onto the table between the two of you and swings his right arm over your shoulders before grabbing a fry and shoving it in his mouth. Mallory kicks you under the table.

"Who was that, Jim," a deep sip of your drink has you closing your eyes and doing your best to ignore just about everything going on at the table: Jimmy's arm around you, Mallory's meddlesome line of questioning, and Tom's moon eyes at her every word.

"Oh- uh," he shoves another 3 fries into his mouth. Mal clears her throat, a tactic she uses when she doesn't want to repeat herself but wants an answer. "She's, ah. She's an ex. I was trying to be nice. It didn't end well, but it's been a while."

You pick up a fry, aiming for nonchalance, "Sorry to hear that. She's cute."

Jimmy straight up snorts, "Yeah, she knows it too. We dated for a while, but she cheated on me. I found out eventually. It sucked."

You nod, because what else are you supposed to say, it does suck. He's right. What you're not expecting is when his arm tightens around you and he says, "I told her I was here with my girlfriend, so if you catch her looking, maybe just be… girlfriend-y?"

Slapping your palm to your face, you can only hear as Mal snorts and Tom straight up laughs.

"C'mon. You're pretty. I want her to at least be a little jealous," he raises his eyebrows in question and his orbital bone is already looking a little shadowed, so you nod and move closer, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

"Thanks, I owe you one." His arm wrapped around you tightens again and the weird thing is that your heart does that same inside your chest.

______

After the cab drops you off at Weld, Jimmy insists on getting you back to your dorm safe and sound. You're both a little worse for the wear, but you're emboldened to swing your arm around his waist, mostly to keep steady, but a little because you secretly hope he'll call you pretty again.

Jimmy's telling you some dumb story about the hijinx he got up to in high school and you're warm down to your toes. It's probably the beer, but it's likely the company too.

"...so then, I tried to jump onto the ice but he put tape on the bottom of my skates and ya know, without the edges I just fell right on my face. It was so embarrassing. The girl I liked was there, my grandma was there. It was awful." His arm is hooked around you too and you're doubled over hysterical.

"You deserved that!" You shout, slapping your thigh. Your voice echoes back in the courtyard and you don't mean to be so loud, but you're happy and having a good time and the semester is finally rolling to an end and you have found a new best friend in Jimmy and everything is just looking sparkly and happy through your beer goggles.

"Oh! We're here. I didn't realize we were so close," you want to read into his tone, but you're probably just drunk and hopeful. It's been a while since you've dated, laser focused on graduating for these past three years. With junior year quickly coming to an end you're starting to think that you may have missed out on something.

Standing in front of your building with Jimmy makes you feel a little hopeful, though.

"We're going to be messes in the morning," you mumble it into his side.

"Yeah, I'll call you when I wake up. Maybe we can grab some breakfast." He walks you up the steps and you don't quite want to scurry up to bed yet.

"Sounds good. Thanks for inviting me… us. Thanks for having us.. at the game.. tonight. And for my goal," you struggle through and he looks amused, right eye blooming purple now under the dim lights.

"Any time," he wraps you up in a hug and leaves you on the steps.

When you get up to your room and wash your face you decide to send him a text.

Let me know when you're safe back at Weld.

Because that's the kind of caring shit friends do.

______

The semester ends in a flurry a month later. Finals find you and Jimmy pulling all nighters in the library.

He helps. He is a fuckin' genius and his input is welcome when it comes to the stack of papers you have to submit. It isn't all one sided; his government class has been kicking his ass and you complement him there, filling in his knowledge gaps.

When you receive a text after his last final that simply says

FREEDOM

you laugh at first, telling him your last final starts in 20 minutes, before a sad sort of dread fills your belly.

You and Jimmy have grown so close this semester you're petrified that the summer will throw you back to casual acquaintances and that's a frightening prospect.

Mal got you to spill the beans to her last weekend. One last outing before the semester ends. She pumped you full of spiked seltzer and got you to wax lyrical about how smart Jimmy is and how your heart flutters when he skates over to the glass to say hi before a game starts- a tradition now, since they haven't lost a game since he's started doing it.

So when he's standing outside of your building, holding two iced coffees dripping condensation in the midday balmy heat, you're elated.

"Finally," he hands you one of the coffees and starts heading towards your dorm room.

Sipping your coffee you stay silent most of the walk before you decide to question the act, "Do you need something? Why are you being so nice?"

He feigns a pained expression and dramatically throws his free hand over his chest. "Ouch."

"I happen to know you're not ready to move out yet, so I cleared the day to help you and this is the thanks I get.”

It would be so nice if he'd just confess his love to you so you could stop dissecting every word he says, but it doesn't seem like that's going to happen any time soon, so you'll take what you can get- in the way of a really awesome friend who's willing to help you pack.

After you get back to your dorm, he's a dynamo, he says it's because of all the last minute packing for hockey camp, but the fact remains that between the two of you your stuff is ready to go after a few short hours. It looks sad, everything in boxes and ready to be stuffed into your little sedan. The only saving grace is that Jimmy orders pizza halfway through for both of your rumbling stomachs.

As you eat pizza on the floor sat atop the only two pillows you have, Jimmy pauses and clears his throat, calling your attention up, away from your pepperoni.

"So, my family has this summer home down at the cape. I was thinking one week I'd do, like, a friends party? You interested?"

Actual cemented plans would be exciting but this is definitely the right direction, so you nod and shove more pizza into your face, as does Jimmy.

______

He gets the call 3 weeks into summer. You've been texting daily and he face timed you once or twice when he was skating around with his little cousins, but when the notification comes through before 10am you're actually concerned that something is wrong.

"Hey, everything okay? You answer quickly, rolling onto your back and adjusting your hat to block out the bright summer sun. It's a beach day for sure.

"They made me captain. Coach just called."

You almost shriek in delight but then remember all of the other people lying on the peaceful beach, "That's incredible Jimmy! Congratulations. I'm so proud of you; you really earned it."

He brushes the praise off with a quick thank you and barrels on, "So to celebrate I'm going to do that party I told you about, at the summer house? Are you still in? I'm thinking next week?"

You're obviously so in, and you tell him you can't wait. He hurries off the phone so he can call his mom and dad with the good news and your heart jumps that you merited the first call. Not a big deal.

______

You, Jimmy, Mal, and Tom get there two days before everyone else. It feels cool, like you're old married couples on vacation together… except none of that is true, you and Jimmy just reaching legal drinking age this summer.

You spend the Wednesday settling in, picking bedrooms you know you'll lose once the next handful of Jimmy's guests arrive on Friday night. Mal already said you guys could share once that happens; Tom and Jimmy make the same pact. Jimmy insisting that the "core four" should get to sleep in real beds and not be relegated to couches or the cool hardwood floors.

The cape is gorgeous and after you pick rooms and get changed everyone heads to the beach and spends the day exactly how college students should behave during the warm summer; rotating between drinking in the sand, dozing in the sun, and cooling off in the ocean. It's glorious. By the time night falls you're all well and truly ready to crash.

Thursday finds the four of you in the supermarket, trying to figure out how much food a handful of hockey players and their girlfriends will eat over the course of two days.

"Listen, if they need more than this they can run to the store," Jimmy's cart is piled high with hotdogs, hamburgers and the like. You manage to slip in a bag of those ice pops in the plastic tube that make you think of summers as a kid and he doesn't catch it until checkout.

"Who's the six year old?" He looks at Tom but you raise your hand. Jimmy drops it onto the conveyor belt, "Okay, if it's for you." Mal gushes out an "aww," but you ignore her, as does Jimmy, and you move to the end of the belt to start bagging.

Friday morning you wake up early and start getting the house ready for the party. Jimmy saunters into the kitchen in a pair of boxers and you're happy you're pulling the meat from the freezer to defrost, because your ears are definitely getting hot.

His skin is tinged red on his chest from all of the summer sun; his face and shoulders sporting new freckles. When he starts talking, it's only polite to look over at him, so you try to keep your gaze north of his thighs, thick from hockey, and upwards from his toned stomach where his boxers sag too much to be good for your health, and slightly higher than his chest, since you don't have your sunglasses on like you did at the beach for inconspicuous staring.

"Did you see Tom? He's not in his room." You shake your head no, "He hasn't come out here that I've seen."

Jimmy peeks out the kitchen window, "All the cars are still here."

The thought hits you both at the same time as you slide across the kitchen floor, bare feet slapping against the hardwood straight to Mal's room.

Waiting outside the door you catch your breath and gently knock, "Mal?" You get no answer so you try again a little louder, "Mal?!"

You hear what you're sure is more than one person fumbling around behind the door and glancing over at Jimmy's amused face, you can bet he hears it too.

"Shit, yeah- don't! Uh, don't come in! I'm not dressed!" She tries to play it off, but you suddenly remember the way she batted her eyes after Jimmy bought your ice pops yesterday, so you decide to give her a little of her own medicine.

"Oh, you're not? Is Tom not dressed either?" Jimmy laughs, loud and clear and your heart practically bursts. You get fuzzy in your brain when he thinks you're funny; he's usually so reserved.

Mal's sigh can be heard through the door, "No he's not." Jimmy claps and you decide you've given her enough shit for now.

"We'll all talk about this when you guys are decent. Take your time." You fist bump Jimmy on your way back to the kitchen, "Mission accomplished."

______

"Slow down, champ." He says it with a laugh, so all you can do is smile back at him and continue to drink from the red solo cup in your hand.

"Why don't you hit a fucking cup, Captain? We're losing." He takes the cup from you before you can finish it, though.

"I will, just let me drink this real quick." He’d be infuriating if you were on the opposite side of the table. The way he shoots the stupid little ball while he's still draining the drink in his hand and it splashes gently in the beer it finds in the other teams rack, but right now you're on his side of the table and you love him for it.

“Let’s gooooo!” You jump up and down slapping high fives onto him, his hands aren’t even up, but it’s your third game in a row and you’re really excited.

“It’s your shot, c’mon you lush.” You hit the cup too and the other team begrudgingly rolls the balls back to your side of the table. When you both succeed in sinking the balls back to back again, the game is over and you jump up into his waiting arms. It’s the highlight of your evening.

The party slowly winds down, most of the others heading back into the beach house and crashing on the various makeshift beds. Jimmy wanders inside, but returns quickly with two bottles of water before he sits down next to you.

You sit, side by side, feet slipped into the water over the side of the dock.

“Hey,” he shifts his shoulder up. Your head, resting heavily on him, moves with it. You pick up your head and look up at him. “Yes?” He looks soft and tipsy under the moonlight, and even though it's breezy on the water, there's warmth radiating from your chest out to the rest of your body. You’re too tired to think about it, the sunny day finally catching up to you.

“Let’s go inside; I’m tired,” he pulls his feet back up and stands before you can, holding out a hand to help you up, which you take and pop up next to him.

You don't think about sleeping arrangements until you walk past your room for the past two days and remember that you're supposed to be sleeping in Mal's tonight. Her door is closed and she's wrapped a scrunchie around the handle. Awesome. Tom's room across the hall is locked up, so you know it's been claimed like yours was when a few of the players arrived this afternoon.

You follow behind Jimmy and knock on the still-open door of his master suite.

"Uh, Mal obviously forgot our plan to share." You pout, upset at the idea of having to sleep on the floor after spending the past two days in the plush guest bed. You lean heavily against the door jamb and hope you don't have to ask.

"I mean, she's still sharing, technically. Just not with you," Jimmy takes off his baseball cap and bends the brim in his hands, avoiding eye contact.

You really don't want to sleep on the floor and you've had just enough to drink that you decide you're not going to wait for Jimmy to stumble onto the idea himself.

"Can I stay in here with you?" It comes out soft- he doesn't look up right away and you're not entirely sure that he heard you until he drops his hat on the dresser and plants his hands on his hips, looking over at you.

"Did you think I'd let you end up on the floor somewhere? C'mon (y/n), get real," he has a soft smile on his face as he shakes his head and you finally step into the room.

You sit on the bed and it seems a little surreal. Jimmy says he's going to change in the bathroom. You hear the door close behind him and after a second he starts laughing.

There isn't much time to wonder why he's laughing. He comes out of the bathroom, still in his swim trunks, but with his freckled chest on display. Slightly distracted by his state of undress, it takes a second for you to see what's hanging from his hand.

Your duffle bag.

"Mal left a note," he holds it up in his other hand, "it's folded and says your name, so I didn't read it," he hands you the paper and you open it against your better judgement.

"What's it say?" You really want this conversation to be over, or for him to put a shirt on, or both. Both would be good.

Mal's bubbly handwriting just says "You're welcome," punctuated with a smiley face and a heart above her name. You hate her. It's official.

"It literally just says 'you're welcome,' nothing important." Jimmy's face gets red and it paints down his neck and onto his collar bones.

"Can I use the bathroom? I just want to sleep I'm so tired." He says yes and steps out of your way; you take the duffle bag and close the door behind you.

A quick tear through the bag reveals that you have brought very little in the way of pajamas. A short, old pair of yoga shorts and a threadbare tank top that has definitely seen better days. You dig through again hoping something better will magically appear but it doesn't, so you change into what you have and hope exhaustion carries you off to sleep before you can be too self conscious about your attire.

The light is still on when you exit the bathroom and drop your bag onto the floor next to the bed. Jimmy's already lying down scrolling through his phone and when you peel the covers back you peek that he's still naked from the waist up and your heart trips in your chest. It doesn't help that he's got on these ridiculous Gryffindor sleep pants and you just want to suffocate him in kisses.

"Can I turn out the light?" Your voice is soft again, nervous that the moment is too delicate and will break if you're not careful.

"Yeah, I'm good," Jimmy's voice sounds rough, which doesn't really help matters, but you don't want to think about that as you switch off the lights and lie on your side, facing away from him with as much space in between you as possible. You know you won’t be able to fall asleep for a while so you open up a crossword app on your phone and start a new puzzle.

It’s a minute before you can feel a breath on your neck. “What are you doing, why is it so bright in here?”

He must have rolled closer because you can feel the heat radiating off of him and onto you. “I’m doing a crossword. It helps me sleep.” You roll onto your back and the light from your phone illuminates Jimmy’s face and he squints against it.

“Can I help? I’m not tired yet.”

“Number 16 across, ‘wide receiver’s pattern?”

“Route? Does it fit?”

You type it in and nod, and he shifts closer to you so he can see the board. The crossword is a nice distraction from the fact that you are literally sharing a pillow and that you can feel his pajama pants against your bare leg. You keep reading out clues and he’s actually really good at this and you just want to kiss his dumb, nerd face.

It’s a good thing he’s moved onto poking at your screen, because as he rolls onto his side to face you and get a better view of your phone, you’re sure he'd notice you staring at his exposed collarbones and wide shoulders.

You hand your phone over, your arms tired from holding it up. Jimmy takes it and decides to lay flat on his back. Immediately missing the warmth, you huff and roll onto your side, sleepy and comfortable, tucked into Jimmy’s shoulder.

“You’re not sly, babe.” You jerk, ripping your eyes from all the smooth skin pulled tight over the muscle in his chest.

“Wha- what am I not sly about?” The only thing you can think of is to jump immediately on the defensive, Jimmy doesn’t even look away from number 22-down.

“What are we doing here?” he hits the home button on your phone and closes the app turning his head towards you, nose-to-nose. The direct eye contact is overwhelming, especially since there’s barely any distance between the two of you now, cuddled close after sharing the phone.

“We’re… sleeping?” you chance placing your hand gently on his arm, needing something to ground you for this conversation.

“We are not sleeping, (y/n).” You’re so nervous, breath coming quick and wispy. He knows, oh my God, he knows, how embarrassing, our friendship is ruined, everything is over. The doubts race through your mind, but he lays his big hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

You shake your head, “We aren’t,” your voice is small, timid in the dark.

“Can I just-?” His hand snakes from your waist, up your back, leaving chills where it trails, to the smooth skin of your neck. You nod, more furiously than you want to, anything that would have qualified as calm is long gone with the way his heat is seeping into your skin, bodies pressed together, but still so terrified and shy.

You don’t even know what you’re nodding yes to, but it’s Jimmy. He “can just” do anything he wants. He’s so, so smart, and funny, and sweet. Unsure of why you’ve been denying this for so long, he’s showing obvious, undeniable interest, you make a mental note to tell Mal she was right, you are cute together.

It takes him a moment, but he leans in, tilting his head at the last second and kissing you. It’s soft at first, barely brushing lips, with his thumb on your jaw, like you’d ever try to move away. Quickly you get frustrated, so much wasted time, you could have been doing this for months now. You back away and he’s a little breathless, looking up at the ceiling. You’re uncomfortable on your side, arm going numb; boldly you crawl on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Oh,-” he’s surprised before you lean down and start sucking on the tendon in his neck, hands roaming all over the freckled skin you couldn’t look away from hours before.

His words come out broken, and you take it as a victory, pushing your hips back and grinding down gently, “I didn’t- wha-, Jesus Christ.” You give him a break and stop circling your hips, “Use your words, Captain.”

“I wasn’t even sure if you were interested. Why didn't you tell me?” You don’t think he actually wants you to answer, he pulls you back down and his hands go to the bottom of your tank top, tucking underneath and resting on the bare skin of your waist. You don't want to let him get away with it, so you grumble into the kiss, "You didn't say anything either."

You back away because he’s so hard and you can feel him through your shorts and you’re tired of denying yourself the things that you want for some imagined, nonsense reasons. So, you lie back on your side, running your palm up and down Jimmy’s erection, hoping he’d stop you if he felt like it was going to far.

He sighs and puts his hand over yours, stopping the movement and you’re instantly mortified; you’ll probably just die here of embarrassment, but he pipes up, “I didn’t- didn’t bring any condoms. Didn’t know I had a shot.”

The laugh that bubbles up isn’t one you can quell, “It’s okay, we have time for that. Let’s just touch.” He lets go of your hand and lets you continue softly jerking him off. Becoming bold, he slides his pajamas down so there’s less material between you. It’s still not enough and you want to feel the silky skin you know is there, so you creep up into his ear and ask, while slipping the tips of your fingers under the elastic band on his waist, “Please, can I?”

You’ve hardly said please before he tips his hips up and pulls his boxer-briefs down to give you better access. He lets you tug, experimenting with pressure to determine what he likes best.

If asked, not that you'd cop to thinking about it at any length, you would have thought Jimmy would be quiet in bed- stoic and silent, like he usually is. You’re delighted to find out he’s so responsive- talkative and downright chatty. You never have to guess what he likes because he lets out moans and whispers your name like it was created just to fall from his lips in the dark.

He finally grabs your hand and pulls you off of his throbbing cock, “I need a break, I’m going to explode.” You’re annoyed for a second, because, yeah hello- that’s what you’re trying for here. But then he rolls you over onto your back and hovers above you and you’re not so annoyed anymore.

It’s not your first time, but by the time he gets your shorts off, sucks his fingers into his mouth, and gently dips a finger inside you, it may as well be. Nothing in your past has prepared you for the way Jimmy pays attention to you, two fingers in your pussy and his mouth attached to your nipple where he’s tugged the front of your tank top down.

It’s minutes before you come, muscles clenching around his pumping fingers, hands balled into tight fists behind his shoulders. You’re panting out his name, the distant worry that someone in another room may hear you exists before you orgasm, but it peaks and you couldn’t give two damns about anyone who isn’t Jimmy right now. You pull him down and kiss him hard on the mouth.

"Wow. Okay, your turn," he looks delighted at how you wiggle out from under him and push him against the headboard, crawling down to his pelvis. The look slips straight off if his face, replaced by closed eyes and a slack jaw when you take him in your mouth.

You're sleepy and overcome with the lust you feel for Jimmy; it almost seems like a hazy dream, too perfect to be true. Big hands wound in your hair as Jimmy gently supports you bobbing up and down on him, a steady stream of praise leaving his lips, "Baby, please. My god, so good- so pretty -like you so much."

It's the moan you let out around his cock that gets him, has him trying to pull you off, sputtering explanations and apologies as you try your best to let him finish in your mouth. You swallow him down, drunk with the high of what you've just done, a thick film of nerves slowly coating the two of you as you lie side by side in the king bed.

"My parents usually sleep in here," is what he comes up with, breathless and sweaty, pulling you close with one arm.

"OH MY GOD!" You slap your hand down over his mouth, but you can feel the grin that lingers under your hand. "Jimmy, you're the worst."

"Yeah, but you like me. How embarrassing for you." His grin hasn't waned and you're wearing a matching one.

"It is. It's awful," you yawn loud and as much as you'd like to lie in the afterglow, but you're physically and emotionally exhausted after that whirlwind. Jimmy's eyes are looking a little droopy too, so you lay a soft kiss in the center of his chest and snuggle in for the night, his chin resting on the top of your head.

______

In the end, everyone played a part.

It's Mal who finds you in the morning, squealing for Tom in delight of their handiwork.

It's Tom who slides into the room in his socks and high fives Jimmy for "finally manning up."

It's Mal who helps you pick out an outfit for when you officially meet his family at a cousin's wedding, diverting your gaze with warm cheeks after they invite you to their summer home in the cape.

It's Tom who helps Jimmy select an apartment in New York after graduation when Jimmy signs with The Rangers.

It's Jimmy who picks the ring he holds when he drops down on one knee to ask you to have him as your husband.

And it's you that nods yes, dropping down to wrap your arms around his neck and crying into his neck, promising you'll love him forever.

#jimmy vesey imagine #jimmy vesey fic #new york rangers fic #new york rangers imagine #buffalo sabres fic #buffalo sabres imagine #that feels weird i hate it #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #requested #writing #rpf

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