#at least im pretty sure they’re only in the second one but im still partway through that

[starlesscitiess]

i just think that once you read unholyverse you can never go back. you’re a changed person. now in a completely convoluted backdoor sort of way, catholicism is in your head forever

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: Picture Perfect

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery:  A whole day with Ben's family and no way to escape. How will you survive? And will any rules be left intact by the end of the night?

Warnings: SMUT (finally lmao), nothing like super kinky but it is explicit, plus the usual stuff,  drinking, mention of smoking.

Words: 6284

A/N: ARE YA'LL READY FOR THIS? smut scene is marked with a *** so you can skip it if you like.

Taglist:  @laedymoon  @dtfrogertaylor  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor  @hannafuckingsucks  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @tenement-funstah @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @queenlover05

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless @im-an-adult-ish​

A week later you were in the passenger seat of Ben’s car, your bags in the back, watching the scenery pass by. You found your eyes drawn to him more often than usual but he didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it was that he was so focused on the road and the traffic around you or maybe it was because you were playing I spy and a few glances from the person who’d spied the object were expected. I spy was a good game. Distracting enough to focus your mind on something other than wanting Ben. For the most part at least. “And we can definitely still see it?” “Yuuuuuuup,” you popped the ‘p’ and glanced over at Ben again. “And it starts with ‘M’ but isn’t ‘Mazda’ like what’s driving behind us, or Mars Bar like what I was just eating?”” “Nope,” you popped the p again and laughed, “d’you want a clue?” “Go on then, otherwise we’ll be stuck like this all day,” “We’ve been following them since we got on the motorway,” Ben’s forehead creased as he thought about your clue, “Truck doesn’t start with ‘M’,” “Clever boy. You deserve a gold star for that one,” “Bite me,” You laughed and gave in to the temptation to look at him again, noting the crease of his forehead as he thought about your clue, “Should I just tell you?” “Fine, I’m never going to get it at this rate,” “I spy with my little eye a mudflap girl. Two of them actually,” “What the fuck is a mudflap girl?” You pointed at the silhouette on the tuck’s mudflaps, “Her. The chick with the stupidly pinched in waist and big knockers.” “Is that what they’re called?” “What knockers?” “No, I’m perfectly familiar with those,” Ben laughed and you whistled teasingly, willing your mind to stop picturing what it was picturing “Shush, I meant the mudflap girls, is that what they’re called?” “Yeah. You didn’t know?” He shook his head slightly, “Never really came up.” “Sorry, would have picked something else if I’d realised,” “‘s fine. Just means I won’t hold back with the next one.” You’d been a little nervous at the prospect of driving hours with just Ben for company, still coming to grips with the fact you wanted to knock boots with him. You couldn’t even think about it in direct language, just roundabout phrases your mum used to use. But, thankfully, all your concerns had disappeared the moment you got into the car, infected by Ben’s bright smile and insistence that he’d make it fun. His definition of fun was a lot of classic driving games, hence the I Spy, plenty of road trip snacks, and a healthy dose of a specially curated driving playlist. You’d made fun of him for including I’m In Love With My Car on it but he just turned it up louder and sang it at you which only made you laugh more. It stopped any awkwardness or uncomfortable silences in their tracks. But all the laughter and playful teasing was just another reminder of how close you were and that made you think about how badly you wanted to do the dirty with him, hear him whining your name, feel his hands all over you, cuddle up with him and doze as he read to you. You shook your head as the third image sprang to the forefront of your mind. That wasn’t right. Bumping uglies was one thing but dozing was out of the question. Unless it was in a post-coital come down of course. Not that any of it mattered since you weren’t going to act on it. Joe had made it very clear that something actually happening was a bad idea. Although, looking at Ben now he didn’t seem to be that bad off. Certainly not white knuckling it as Joe had said. He was happy and bubbly and you couldn’t see a single sign of him falling apart. What did Joe know anyway? He lived so far away, how could he possibly know what was good for Ben or, for that matter, you.

Halfway there you found a place to pull up so you could stretch your legs and refresh your snacks but then it was back into the car for the second leg of the trip, winding through the traffic until it thinned out and you pulled up outside a nice white house with a tidy yard. “This is it?” you asked, the nerves back in full force. “Yeah, you good?” You just nodded your head but Ben gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “Remember the plan, yeah? Hold hands as much as we can, look as loved up as possible, just like what we do for the cameras. What’s our story?” “Met at the audition for Edith since you’d already been cast. Hung out a lot as prep for the movie. You asked me out a couple of days before filming began and we dated secretly for a while but then, partway through filming, we were caught by paparazzi and decided to be open about it.” “Very good. What el- shit, no time for the rest of the pop quiz, the front door just opened.” “It’s okay, I’m good. We’ve been doing this for months now, it’s just more of the same.” Ben nodded and then let your hand go so he could get out of the car. You opened your door and stepped out, smoothing out your skirt, your hand cold outside of Ben’s grasp. But he fixed the problem, taking your hand again as he led you towards the front door and the person who’d come out onto the driveway. He squeezed your hand again. “Hi mum. This is Y/N,” “Well it’s about time,” his mum said, already stepping forward to hug you, forcing you to drop Ben’s hand “lovely to meet you, darling.” “Pleasure to meet you too Mrs Jones,” you smiled politely as she stepped back. “Oh, Angela, please,” her hands were still on your shoulders as she examined your appearance, “Gosh aren’t you pretty.” You managed to stutter out a thank you, suddenly feeling much more shy than you normally would have. “Oh c’mon mum, let her go.” “I’m just saying she’s beautiful, what’s wrong with that?” but her hands fell from you as she turned her attention to Ben, “I still think you’re very handsome too Ben. Need a bit of a haircut though.” He rolled his eyes but hugged her all the same. “Mikey’s already there setting up with your father and I expect you’ll be giving him a hand soon?” “Can I not have five minutes out of the car before I get piled up with chores?” Ben whined as you both followed her inside.

She led you on a brief tour of the house, pointing out where the bathrooms were and coming to an end at Ben’s old room where you’d be staying. She promised you enough time to grab your bags and freshen up before you’d be asked to help and then she headed back towards the front of the house. You peeked inside the bedroom door hoping to see what teenage Ben’s sense of style was but it had since been redecorated. “Don’t look so disappointed,” Ben laughed, “Mum had the whole house redone a few years ago and it didn’t make sense to keep my room how it was.” “Please tell me there’s photos here somewhere,” “Probably but you’re not seeing them,” “You have to tell me something, I’m your girlfriend and I need to know.” “Fuck off, you do not,” “Please?” you extended the word in a childish whine, pouting at him until he broke. “What d’you want to know then?” “What’d you have on your walls? Band posters?” Ben laughed, “Uhhh, a few sports things – my favourite teams and that. Some girls with big tits leaning all over cars…Couple of theatre posters too,” “Nerd,” “Shut up,” he laughed again, pushing against your shoulder, “Sorry about Mum by the way,” “It’s totally fine,” “I promise it’ll all be over soon,” You were taken aback as he wrapped you up in a tight hug but very happily relaxed against him. Carefully, so as not to break the moment you looked up at him only to find him looking back at you. It was the closest you’d been since the almost-kiss in the hotel. Sure, you’d been close, even hugged before, but not in this long, lingering way and even then, it was mostly just in public. A sharp knock at the door made you break apart. “Sorry to rush you but Mikey’s just called asking after you. Better get a move on,” “Who’s Mikey?” you asked, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the air. “My brother, Michael. S’pose we should crack on. You’ve got about twelve bags to pull from the car.” “Fuck off, it’s only two and one of them’s a hand bag. Plus, it’s you’re fault for not being more specific about dress code.” You hadn’t known exactly what to pack and got no clear answer when you’d asked, so you’d packed a few different outfit options, from casual jeans and a nice blouse to a slightly more fancy little black dress, the clutch you’d taken to the French restaurant packed with it in case you needed a stylish purse. “You’re such a drama queen. Just help me with them yeah?”

You would have known he was Ben’s brother even before you’d heard about him. His face was thinner and his shoulders less broad but they had the same smile, same eyes. He was lovely too, jumped down off a chair and dropped the coil of fairy lights he’d been holding so he could shake your hand and introduce himself. Then came their dad, maybe not quite as warm as their mum but just as welcoming. Both you and Ben were handed lengths of lights and sent off to find places to hang them. Inside it wasn’t necessary since the restaurant was already lit up, staff busting about making sure everything was ready for that afternoon. So Ben led you away from the big open door, into the beer garden. It was mostly paved, small shoots of grass sprouting up through the bricks, though there was also a large strip of grass at the very end of the yard. Ben’s brother and dad were on one side of the yard, securing their lights to the fence so you and Ben headed straight for the grassy end where the light of the restaurant wouldn’t quite reach. “Wait here a sec,” Ben said, handing you his coil of lights and turning back towards the paved area. You watched as he dragged on of the sturdy wooden tables over to you. At the first scrape of the wood on the brick he looked inside to see if anyone was going to go mad at him but, aside from his family members, no one noticed. When he finally got it in position, he climbed up onto the table and held out his hand for the lights. You kept lookout as he wound the wire around a tree branch and then jumped down again, handing the end of the lights to you so you could wrap it around the tree trunk and secure the battery pack out of harm’s way, as he pushed the table back into place. It wasn’t long before the yard was covered with lights extending from the doorway all the way to the fence that blocked the yard from the road. Of course, all that work meant you deserved a drink so, by the time Ben’s mum and other family members began arriving in the late afternoon, you were already halfway through your first glass. Ben gave you a running commentary of everyone who walked into the restaurant. “That’s my cousin and her daughter. And the couple behind her are my,” he thought for a moment, “Well let’s call them cousin’s too because I don’t know how seconds and removals work. The bald guy over there talking to Mum is my great uncle. And the woman who just waved is an Aunt. Whatever you do, don’t mention her son. He’s had a run in with the law and it’s a touchy subject.” “Noted. But shit, when you said family get together you really meant it,” “Yeah,” Ben laughed, “The Jones’ don’t do things by halves. ‘Specially not when there’s drinking involved.”

As the place began to fill Ben took you around to meet people. You felt a little like the ball in a pinball machine, bouncing from one person to another, introducing yourself and then moving on to someone else, almost immediately forgetting any names you’d just been told. It was almost like doing interviews again except with more movement and more alcohol. Ben kept a hold of you, either interlocking his fingers with yours or else wrapping his arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side, only letting you go to grab you another drink or light up a cigarette. At one point you had a small crowd gathered beside you, all pointing out things they’d seen in magazines or on the internet about you, all wanting to hear about how you met. Thankfully you’d become quite practiced at telling the story. “We met at the audition actually,” Ben said, “I had the part but they wanted to try me with different actresses to find someone that would work well on screen. I’d met, I don’t know, eight or nine women and then Y/N came into the room. She looked kinda nervous,” You shook your head in disagreement but Ben ignored you. “but we got a chance to say hi before we had to read the lines and we just clicked.” “Our director really liked us together so I got a call back and we did another scene,” “So they could, y’know, see us kiss, make sure the chemistry was there.” “They must have liked it because I got the part. We did a couple of weeks of all this, um, like, bonding stuff. The rest of the main cast was there too but me and Ben had a few one on one things because we were playing a couple that was already engaged so they wanted us to look really connected.” “Anyway, I wanted to ask her out after day one but I wasn’t sure if I should because we’d be working together,” “I took a little longer to see him in that light but he was so sweet and charming and fun to be around, and by the end of the week I was thinking the same thing. Only neither of us wanted to make the first move because if it wasn’t mutual then it could make the next few months of work really awkward.” “Eventually one of the other actors pointed out how into me she was so I asked her out for a coffee and it went from there.” He returned your smile and then pulled you closer into his side, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as you leaned against his chest. “Well your casting director knew what they were doing because you two are adorable together.” A few more questions followed but eventually Ben was able to extract you from the crowd with the excuse you needed more drinks. “Actually, I gotta run to the loo, I’ll bring some food back with me though, okay?” “Okay, I’m gonna grab another cocktail, you want anything?” “Beer’d be great,” “Sure thing, babe,” He smiled again as he left you but you were smiling too. There was something fun about the act. Even with everything that had happened and how mixed up and hard it had been at times, an evening like this was fun. He made you laugh and made sure you felt comfortable in what could have easily been an extremely uncomfortable situation. Plus, it meant you got to indulge the part of you that was still fantasising about being with him. You were allowed to kiss him and touch him because you were acting. There was no confusion about why, no worries about if you were crossing the line you’d put down, nothing to stop you from enjoying it. So what if occasionally your fantasies extended beyond just doing the horizontal tango? It wasn’t so bad to think about cuddling up in front of the TV with him.

Drinks in hand you headed back to where Ben had disappeared, trying to spot him in the crowd. “Y/N!,” You spun round to see who was talking, finding yourself face to face with Ben’s mum again. Angela, you reminded yourself. “Come join us over here,” she said leading you to a table where a few others sat, “You’ve met my husband Keith already, yes? And this is Doug and Katherine. This is Y/N, Ben’s girlfriend.” You took a seat and chatted with them, glancing around for Ben every so often. Eventually Doug and Katherine got up to talk to someone else and Keith went off in search of more food, leaving you and Angela alone. “Now, darling, Ben tells me you’ve got a work thing to get back home for tomorrow so you’ll be leaving a bit earlier than originally planned.” Angela said, patting your hand. “Yeah, um, it’s an audition,” you lied. It was a cover Ben had come up with so you didn’t get guilted into staying an extra day. “Well that does sound important. I’m sad we won’t have longer to get to know you though. I must admit, I saw a photo of you and Ben a while ago and I was hoping he’d bring you up because you just looked so lovely. And you obviously make him very happy, which is of course what every mother hopes for. So you have to come back soon so we can have a proper chat. Make a weekend of it or something.” You were a little taken aback, stunned to hear how much of an impact you’d had without meaning to. It made you feel a bit guilty. This was Ben’s family and you weren’t part of it, you shouldn’t be there. But you swallowed the doubts, tried to ignore how much you wanted it all to be real, and smiled back at her, “I’d love that. Just say when.” “Oh now don’t tempt me or I’ll have the date picked out before the end of the night. I don’t want to jump the gun or seem too forward but just seeing how you two are together…I hope you know you’re welcome in our family. Ben loves you a lot, I can tell.” “I know. And it’s very kind of you,” “I mean it darling. And if the next family get together was your wedding, well….but of course that’s neither here nor there.” You laughed it off but your insides were churning. “So this is where you got to,” Ben’s voice interrupted as he dropped into the seat beside you and lay his hand on your knee. You hadn’t realised your leg had been bouncing but you stopped it the moment he touched you. “I was just telling Y/N that you should come back again soon, when there’s no auditions to interrupt your stay.” “Sure, Mum,” Ben said, still touching your leg. You chatted for a bit longer until she got distracted enough for Ben to lean into your ear and softly ask, “You okay? Or do you want to get out of here?” “Please,” you whispered back. “Okay, follow me,” He took your hand and told his mum he wanted to introduce you to someone but you barely heard it, your head buzzing as you made a polite exit and let Ben lead you outside, making excuses to anyone who tried to stop you. As soon as you were clear of the venue he pulled out his phone to find a car, one hand on your lower back, rubbing soft circles over your shirt until you felt you could breathe easy again. “Better?” “Thank you. How’d you know?” He shrugged, “I just know you. I saw your leg bouncing and figured Mum had said something,” “She mentioned us getting married,” “What? Why the fuck would that have come up?” “It was just a passing comment but I….” You half shrugged, trying to find the right words. “It’s okay, c’mon, let’s go home you can tell me everything.” You nodded and let him hug you as you waited for the car.  

Once you were inside Ben grabbed a couple of glasses from the kitchen and then headed into the dining room. “Thank you dad,” he mumbled as he pulled a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label out of a cupboard and turned to show you, “He’s kept a stash of this stuff in here since I was a kid. Got in trouble for stealing some a couple of times.” “Better not let him find out about this then,” you laughed, feeling more relaxed now that it was just you and Ben, a sizeable distance from the rest of the party. Ben chuckled along as he poured a little into each glass and carefully replaced the bottle, “So what happened back there?” “I don’t know,” you accepted your glass and took a sip, leaning against the corner of the table. Ben didn’t cut in, he just took his own drink and waited until you could say more. “I guess it was just harder to be around your family than I was expecting. It wasn’t the same as sitting in a restaurant on a date,” you drew the quotation marks in the air with your fingers, “That was a room full of people who care about you and they were all so lovely and welcoming and your mum said she’d been hoping you’d bring me here since she saw a photo of us and invited me back so she could get to know me and I said I’d love to because what else could I say and she seemed so happy about it and so pleased that you’re so happy and I feel so guilty about lying to them all. What if they find out? Your mum’ll be so disappointed.” “Don’t worry about lying to them, I’ve done it plenty before,” when you didn’t laugh he put his glass down beside you and took you free hand in his, “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, and they’ll accept it and never have to know the truth. And then we can forget this whole thing and move on.” You weren’t so sure that was what you wanted anymore, but you weren’t sure enough to say it. Instead you put your glass down as well and said, “but it must be hard for you too. Having me here and everything.” It was only when you looked at him that you realised how close you were standing. He was still holding your hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your fingers. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to do it, the drink maybe, or just pent up sexual tension, but he was so close and he was looking at you with those eyes and before you could stop yourself you leaned in to kiss him. He seemed a bit shocked, taking half a step back, and you were sure he was going to tell you it wasn’t a good idea and then leave you standing there alone. But then his hand was on your jaw as he kissed you back, all hesitancy gone. You felt him sigh against you as if he’d been holding his breath, waiting for this to happen again, and pulled him in closer.

***

Maybe it was the months without sex, or maybe it was how often your mind had conjured similar scenes, or maybe it was just how good it felt to have him press you against the table to kiss you again, but whatever the reason it wasn’t long until you were pushing the hem of his shirt up over his stomach. He took the hint and stopped kissing you just long enough to pull it over his head, quickly finding your lips again as his fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt. He got about halfway through and then stopped, instead dropping his hands to your arse so he could lift you up and carry you up the hall towards his room. He kicked the door shut once he was through it and pressed you against it, kissing you as if to make up for lost time. It was a heady experience, being pinned to the door, your legs wrapped around him as you kissed messily. Too much and not enough all at once. You needed him closer still and clutched at his shoulders to try and make him understand. Either he really could read you well or he wanted the same thing because a moment later there was no longer a door behind you, Ben taking the few steps towards the bed and letting himself drop to the mattress. He pushed your shirt from your shoulders, no longer needing to hold you up, and ran his hands over your sides as if trying to map out he lines of your body. A whine escaped you as your need to remove layers grew and you dropped your hands to his belt, fumbling blindly with the buckle. A voice in your head told you it was a bad idea. You still weren’t certain of your feelings, weren’t sure doing this would cure you of them or if it’d just make everything messier than it already was. But the voice got quieter with every shift of your hips and every stroke of his fingers. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he mumbled against your neck. All you could manage was a small whimper of agreement as he kissed you again, and traced his fingers up to the clasp of your bra. It was on the floor in seconds, his hands replacing the material, only making you want more. You arched your back into his touch, panted against his lips. He smiled, circled a nipple with his thumb, delighted in your response.

Suddenly he flipped you over so you were sitting on the bed, kissed you again and then stood up. “Ben?” you were worried he was going to put an end to things before they got too far. Thankfully he didn’t, just shucked off his pants. You almost laughed in relief as he leaned over you again, making quick work of the fastening of your skirt so it too could join the clothing on the floor. The voice in your head was gone, silenced by the pure desperate need to have him touch you more, and he was making no moves to stop it either as you shuffled further up the bed, pulling him along with you. You let out a choked off moan as he kissed a trail down your neck, tilted your head to the side so he could reach all the spots that made you gasp. But it still wasn’t enough. You were going to go crazy with need if you didn’t get something more soon, so you let your hand fall between you, rubbed your palm over the front of his boxers, felt him rock his hips against your hand, already hard. He sat back on his knees so he could slip your underwear down your legs. “Fuck,” he groaned as soon as he realised how wet you were. You grabbed his wrist and put his hand between your legs, hoping he’d take the hint. He did, trailing his fingers between your lips, over your clit. Your breath caught as he slipped a lone digit into you, slowly, easing you into it before he added a second. He watched you closely, eyes half lidded and soft, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth like he was concentrating on memorizing every inch of you, inside and out. Even in that moment, when your breaths were coming shaky and uneven, and your skin was burning under his gaze, even then all you could think was how hot he looked, hair ruffled, lips kiss swollen, completely enraptured by you. He shifted his finger slightly and your eyes fluttered shut. “There, babe, fuck, right there,” you sighed. “Like that?” he asked softly, twitching his fingers against you again. You nodded though he drew a more vocal response from you a few seconds later when he added a third finger and leaned down to suck your nipple between his lips. He hummed when he heard you say his name and repeated the same motion in the same place, so you said his name again, louder, and then again and again as he kept going, hitting you exactly where you needed him. You were almost surprised by how quickly he managed to pull you over the edge. Almost. But it had been a while and he’d always promised he was good. He worked you through it before he carefully withdrew his fingers and kissed you again, stealing what little breath you had left.

And then he stopped. Sat back again. You blinked your eyes open and reached for him as he leaned over the edge of the bed, opened the draw of the beside cabinet and swore. Pulling himself back towards you he took your outstretch hand and kissed the back of it, “I don’t have any condom’s here,” he sounded apologetic. “I have some, wait,” you kissed him quickly before you stood, a little unsteady, and opened the wardrobe door, thankful Felicity had given you the handful of them and that you’d brought the bag with you. He looked like he was about to ask why but the sight of you climbing onto the bed, straddling him, with one hand on his chest to lay him down, made the question die in his throat. He let his head fall back onto the pillow as you pulled his underwear off and rolled the condom on as quick as you could manage. And then you sank down onto him, trying to take your time. “Fuck,” you whined, pausing to give you both a moment to adjust. His hand grabbed onto your waist, fingertips pressing into you, encouraging you to move. It was soft but not quite, both of you panting and groaning as you raised and lowered yourself on him, building up to a steady rhythm. His hands roamed over you, grabbing your arse the way he had done on his couch, moving over your breasts, squeezing your hips, gentle but firm pulling you to speed up each time. You needed to be closer though, so you leaned down to kiss him again, grunting at the change of position. But it interrupted your flow, made you stutter out of time, so Ben propped himself up on his elbows, and then when that wasn’t enough, sat up fully, his knees rising behind you. One hand was braced on your back to keep you steady as you circled your hips, the other cupped your cheek as his forehead leaned against yours, every uneven breath audible, able to feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest under your palm. “I love you,” he sighed, his nose bumping against yours as he searched for your lips again. You were on the verge of repeating his words back to him when he dropped his hand from your cheek, let it fall between you and brush against your clit, the confession lost in your moan. “You gonna c-cum for me?” You nodded, leaning into his neck as you did your best to keep riding him, legs shaking with the effort and your approaching release. He didn’t let up until you were crying out into his shoulder, following close behind you with his own moan.

***

You lost track of how long you sat there, leaning against each other as you came down, lost track of where you were, lost track of the reality of your relationship. Your instinct was to keep clinging to Ben, keep kissing along his jaw and nose as you pulled yourselves back together. But it was too much for him. He let go of you suddenly, as if just touching you was painful. “I’ve gotta…” he said with a half hearted nod in the direction of the doorway. “Oh. Right, yeah,” you climbed off him, trying not to react to the sudden emptiness, the sudden cool of the air outside of his embrace. Ben moved to the edge of the bed, glanced at you, ran his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you offered somewhat lamely, not sure how to explain everything you were feeling. “Neither. Are you okay?” “Yeah. I, um, it was really good and I-I think I kind of needed it.” This was it. There was no more running from what you were feeling. No more pretending it was platonic or just physical. You had to come clean, to yourself as much as to Ben. Ben smiled but it was a pained kind of smile, “It was good for me too. Really good. But it can’t ever happen again.” He stood up before you could say anything else, tied off the condom and put his boxers back on, making a hasty retreat. Something stirred in your memory and you had the sudden urge to tell him he couldn’t leave you because he owed you a third orgasm, but it was too late. He was gone and you were left sitting there, naked and alone, waiting for him to come back so you could explain. When enough time had passed without his return you got up, put your pyjamas on and went to the bathroom, running on autopilot as you considered everything that had just happened. Maybe Ben was right to walk away. Maybe it had been a mistake. He probably wouldn’t believe you if you told him how you really felt. You’d taken too long to work it out, been too vocal about not feeling it. And it would be poor timing to say it right after you’d slept together. He’d think you were saying what he wanted to hear so he wouldn’t be embarrassed about saying it himself. And maybe it was down to all the tension between you. You’d spent all day pretending to be the loving girlfriend after all, maybe it had influenced you a bit, made you think you felt things you didn’t actually feel. But something that good, that tender, didn’t just happen with anyone, surely. It certainly hadn’t been like that with anyone else you’d been with casually. And you’d assumed that having sex with Ben would be the solution, that you’d finish and be fixed. No more thinking about him, no more wanting to be with him. But all you really wanted was to cuddle up beside him. Fall asleep in his arms. That wasn’t something you usually wanted from one night stands. Normally you’d want to get out as fast as possible not sit in their bedroom and wait for them. And the thought of everything else that could happen if he just knew it was what you wanted – waking up beside him, making him coffee, listening to him play stupid love songs on his stupid guitar, comforting him on bad days, being his actual fucking girlfriend and not just his pretend one – all of that sounded so fucking wonderful. It couldn’t just be endorphins making you feel like that. There had to be something of substance behind it all. Afterall they’d been there for a while now, those feelings. It wasn’t like the sex had conjured them. You’d been pretending not to notice them but they’d been there for months. So the only way forward was to tell him.

When you got back to the bedroom Ben was there, curled away from you on a makeshift bed on the floor. He could have been sleeping except his shoulder’s were too rigid, holding too much tension. “Ben?” He didn’t respond, just kept feigning sleep. So you switched out the light and tiptoed to the bed, crawling under the covers. The sheets still smelt like him and it made your heart ache. What if you just said it? You sat up, turned your head in his direction. “Ben?” it came out as more of a whisper than you’d have like so you tried again, “Ben, I-I-” If you said it now would he join you? Or would he pretend he hadn’t heard? You fell silent again at that thought, not sure you could cope with it. Maybe you’d just hold off for a bit. Wait until the premiere. Give yourself time to find the exact right words to explain your apparent change of heart. He couldn’t write you off as trying to spare him some embarrassment if you said it weeks after he’d let it slip in the throws of passion. He’d have to take you seriously then. “Goodnight,” you sighed, and lay down again, though try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. You lay there in the dark, sure Ben was just as awake as you were, with only one thought in your head. You loved Ben. And you didn’t know what to do about it.