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buckyswheezes · 3 years

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Cruel Summer (Pt. 1/2)

Premise: Steve was 7, Bucky was 6, and you were 4 when you became family. And it was in the summer of your last year in high school when things started to change.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes / What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

author's note: First of all, this did not go the way I planned it to. Second, I was wrong; this isn't one-shot but a two-shot fic. Finally, I hope you guys like it. Again, @lokisblackwidow's post made me do this. Sorry if it's different from what you expected it to be.

warning: this fic contains cursing, sexual shit, and incest. Read at your own risk

It's been 15 years since your family moved to New York to start anew. The concrete jungle, skyscrapers, and bustling broadway shows were a stark contrast to California's tropical and easy-going nature. You were too young, though, to notice such things because you were just three years old at the time and mostly spent your time confused because you haven't seen your mom in a long time.

It's only been dad and your brother Steve for weeks now, and both didn't know how to tie your hair the way you like or read those bedtime stories you loved so much. Years later, you finally realized why -she died. The next thing you knew, you have a new mom and a new brother. It's been that way since.

"How's the college application going?" Steve's gruff voice came from the ongoing Facetime.

"I haven't had my breakfast. Can I please have my breakfast first?" You replied, annoyed. You didn't want to be reminded of that first thing in the morning. You slumped down on the seat beside your mom, and she handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, mom," You muttered.

Your dad sat on the other side of the table, flipping through the day's paper, and beside him sat Bucky, stuffing his face with bacon, completely ignoring the chaos around him. The empty seat beside him was where Steve sat (when he's home, that is, which was rare nowadays), but the tablet with his huge face plastered in it was placed on the space on the table, so it felt as if you were all still having breakfast together.

"Ooh, someone's grumpy."

"I'm gonna beat your ass when you get home." You threatened.

"Well, joke's on you 'cause I'm not."

"You're not?" Mom frowned.

Steve shifted to look at her. "I took a summer course this year, Biostats. It'll help with my thesis."

"You sure you're not just fonduing with Maryland girls in the summer?"

"Shut up, Buck. You're the playboy in the family, not me."

"Alright, boys!" Your mom chastised then turned to Steve again. "Well, you take care, and if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Will do."

Steve attended Johns Hopkins University -unarguably one of the best universities in America when it comes to Medicine. He'd always wanted to be a doctor, and even though he never said it, you knew it was because of your biological mom. He could've gotten into Harvard, but like you, Steve itched to get out of New York for a change of environment. It was only Bucky who didn't want to go anywhere, and so he attended NYU.

You love New York, no doubt about that. You grew up exploring its Burroughs, and the Central Park had been a staple in your formative years, but lately, you just wanted to get away from all of it. Recently, something changed, and you convinced yourself that it was because it's your last year in high school and you will be going to college soon.

But you knew there was something else. Well, maybe it was also because you turned 18 early this year, you're legal now, and with your going to college on the other side of the coast, you were excited to have a bit of freedom. CalArts was your first choice, being into Performing Arts and all that. Now, your parents weren't painfully strict, but being the youngest and only girl in the family, they couldn't help but be a little protective.

When Steve went to Baltimore two years ago, you were quite relieved. You get it; you're his only sister, but the way he used to hover around and scare away boys grated your nerves. You were just thankful that by sophomore year, he was gone. He'd passed on the mantle to Bucky, but he didn't really care -well, not as much as Steve did.

"Dad, don't forget you're picking me up later after school. I can't be late for my rehearsal." You reminded. Across the table, your old man's jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that today?"

"Uhh yeah, you forgot already?"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind, honey. How about you pick her up, Buck?" He turned to your step-brother.

"What?!" You shrieked in unison.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." He whined. You roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

"No, it's fine. I'll just ask Peter to come with me."

"Who's he, your new boyfriend?" Bucky spat.

You glared at him across the table. "No, he's not. I don't even have a boyfriend; you and Steve made sure of that." You downed the last of your coffee before shooting daggers at him once more. "Don't pick me up. Go do your stuff."

"Bucky…" It was mom's turn to speak.

"Fine!" He grumbled.

————

"Bye, Peter. See you around!" You stood up from the bench where you and your friend sat as soon as you saw Bucky drove up the school's entrance.

You don't know what your step-brother's problem was, but lately, he'd been nothing but irritable and annoyed, especially with your presence. You didn't wait for him to call you, so you jogged as quickly as you could across the schoolyard, silently climbing on the passenger seat as soon you reached where he pulled over.

You cast a wary glance at him; he didn't speak to you since you got on. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. His jaw was set, and he was intent on ignoring you, it seems, for the duration of the ride.

You and Bucky weren't always like this. You two were close; you played a lot when you were kids, you built forts, you wrestled, you chased each other with whatever gooey stuff you put your little hands on. Over the years, he became distant. You'd started to feel distant when Bucky and Steve entered junior high -you just couldn't relate to the stuff they talk about anymore. You're still very close with Steve, but with Bucky, he just drifted further away, especially when you entered high school. Bucky was only two years ahead, so you always saw him around during your freshman year. He was very popular, it seems. Senior girls used to befriend you in hopes of getting close to your step-brother.

You couldn't take it any more of his animosity, so you fully faced him, shifting in your seat. "Have I done something wrong, Buck?"

He looked at you incredulously for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

Annoyed at his lack of response, you hit his shoulder with your fist.

"What the hell y/n! I'm driving. Do you want us to die?!" He growled.

You retreated back to your seat, feeling remorseful for a second. Only for a second, then you burst out crying. "I hate you! I wish you're not my brother!"

You heard him chuckle, but he obviously wasn't amused. "Yeah, wish you weren't my sister too."

———

Bucky was in his last year in high school when he noticed it. He was waiting outside the school library because you said you needed to borrow a book before the two of you go home.

When Steve went off to college, he promised he'd look after you. He noticed firsthand how guys from all grade levels flock to you, hoping they'd catch your attention. Now, Bucky knew what these guys really want, and that's to get in your pants. Over his dead body would he allow that to transpire. So you two always walked home together.

He craned his neck to peek through the giant doors, wondering what's taking you long when he saw you chatting with a guy. His brows furrowed while his lips formed a thin, grim line.

Your smile reached your ears, your eyes glistened in obvious delight, and your cheeks flushed. Your shy gaze was directed at the guy in front of you.

Bucky frowns even more, when the guy ruffled your hair, a gesture that only he has the right to do (he believes). He felt a vein in his head pop in irritation. He felt like punching someone.

"Hey, Buck, let's go!" You chimed, pulling him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that's Stephen. A junior in the dance club." You almost giggled.

"Huh." He scoffed.

The next time he noticed it happen was when he stayed around to watch your cheer dance rehearsals. Your skimpy cheerleader outfit didn't leave much to the imagination; that's why he decided to hover around, ready to pounce on whoever looked at you the funny.

Bucky looked away for a second to glance at his phone when screams filled the schoolyard. The next thing he knew, you were in the air -free-falling. He ran as fast as his feet could take him to catch you, his heart pounding in his ears. Fortunately, someone was there to catch you before you hit the ground.

You fell on top of the guy -Stephen. He gritted his teeth, half-annoyed, half-grateful at the piece of shit. He saw how you stayed on top of him for a few seconds more; furiously blushing. The moment he reached you, Bucky yanked you up and from the guy's body.

"You okay?" He fussed, searching your body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Buck. Stephen caught me." You bit your lip as you shyly looked back at the guy. "Umm, thanks again."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Bucky grumbled, pulling you away from the group.

The way your body rested on another guy just didn't sit well with him. Once again, he felt like punching someone, and that someone is Stephen. He hated the way the guy was always around you. Bucky was sure what his motive was, and he'll never let him get it.

"I want ice cream." You muttered later that afternoon on your way home.

Bucky scoffed at your request. "What are you, five?"

You stopped walking and faced him, a pout on your lips. "Steve always buys me ice cream."

"Well, I'm not Steve."

"Please, I fell off someone's shoulder and almost hit my head. What if I died?"

"What has that got to do with ice cream?"

"I hate you. You're the worst brother, ever."

Bucky chuckled at your antics; he knew you didn't mean it. You just say that to get what you want because when you were kids, Steve and he used to compete for the Best Brother Award. "Fine." He conceded with a smile. He grabbed your grabbed, and you both ran to the nearest ice cream parlor, ordering one big bowl of banana split sundae and stuffing your faces.

Bucky's whole body tensed when your moans filled your ears. He didn't mind it back then, you were young and innocent, but now, Bucky couldn't ignore the sound spilling from your mouth. Sweat dripped down his nape.

This isn't right.

Your moans seem to ring louder in his ears. The way you licked your spoon clean was not helping his situation either. Bucky thinks about the thin line between sanity and insanity when the chocolate syrup trickled from your lips down to your chin until it reached the supple skin of your neck.

"I need to go to the bathroom." He muttered and hastily jolted from his seat, scrambling away from you. Bucky has a growing problem inside his pants, and he needs to take care of it.

Stop this, Bucky, you need to stop this! His mind chastised while his hands unbuckled his belt. You shouldn't feel this… this way towards her. He's your step-sister. It's wrong.

As soon as he reached his release, he made up his mind. He'll stay away from you; kinda impossible since you both live in the same house, but he'll try his best for both your sakes.

Bucky stopped waiting for you after school. He stopped watching your rehearsals. He stopped helping you with your Math home works and, much to your mom's surprise, he started watching evening dramas with her in the living room every night.

So to answer your question, the one you shot at him when he picked you up from school that day. Yes, you did something wrong.

You grew up. And it's been hard for him to see you as his step-sister ever since.

——————

The last day of school finally rolled in, and you intended to enjoy summer before you start college. What you didn't see coming, though, was being left alone with Bucky for one whole week because your parents are going on a cruise.

"Can't I come with you?" You pleaded, eyes wide as you hauled your mom's baggage into the back of the taxi.

"Sorry, honey. Promise, we'll be back as soon as we can." She replied before giving you a hug.

"Don't leave me here. Bucky's gonna bully me all week."

"He won't, right Bucky?" She raised a brow at him, who stood with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Try not to destroy the house while we're away." Was their final reminder before they went on their way.

Bucky was the first one to get back inside the house. Dread ate up your insides; you two haven't spoken since the car ride. You decided once and for all to get things straight with him. So you marched inside about five minutes later.

Bucky heard you barge in his room, but he remained still -eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. He jolted up when you unceremoniously hit his stomach with a pillow.

"What the hell, y/n?!" He snarled, clearly pissed at your assault.

Your nose flared at his attitude. "What is your problem, James Barnes?" You growled in return.

"Am I the one with a problem here?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I mean!"

Bucky pushed past you; you trailed behind, following his figure towards the living room. He needed to get away from you, fast. It irked him that you wouldn't stay the fuck out of his way. You'd even come and gone into his room. Bucky couldn't take it; he'd go crazy.

"Why are you avoiding me? Bucky!… Bucky! Answer me, damn it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, y/n. So, leave me alone." He was about to reach the door when you threw yourself in front of it, barring his way out. "Move."

"NO! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." You crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You weren't gonna let this day end without knowing why Bucky acts the way he does. If it was something that you did, then you'd wholeheartedly make it right, but you'll never know if he keeps on brushing you off. So, here you are.

"Y/n, move." Bucky hissed menacingly."

"No, Bucky." You replied in the same manner.

After your brief glaring contest, Bucky finally looked away, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Something's not right, okay? But it's not you, it's… it's… me, so let me handle this myself."

You relaxed and took a step closer to him. "Can't you tell me? I might be able to help."

Bucky looked away. How could he possibly tell you that he's harboring un-brotherly feelings towards you -his step-sister. How could he possibly tell you that you turn him on, that he's having inappropriate thoughts about you for a year now? How could he possibly tell you that he might be falling in love with you?

All those times you spent together when Steve was gone. The times you intently and genuinely listened to his adolescent problems. The times you cheered for him when he played football in high school. You were his number one fan. You were so different from the others, and he hated how it made him look at you differently. He hated when you boys started coming into your life. He always believed that you had a special place in your heart for him, but now he feared that anyone might snatch that place from him. You were his best girl.

Bucky grimaced at his realization. He finally admitted to himself that he is, indeed, falling in love with you. He felt angry at himself. How could he let this happen? He thought he was in control of his emotions.

"Eventually, I'll tell you. But not now." He said softly, hoping you'd let him go.

But you were persistent. "No, Bucky. I want you to tell me now." You demanded.

"Y/n," He growled loudly this time. "Move out of my way!"

"I won't until you tell me."

"Move!"

"Just tell me!"

Bucky's resolve broke. The sirens in his mind went off, but he ignored them as he strode towards you intently. He smirked when your bravado faltered before vanishing completely when he pushed you against the door; your bodies pressed together, making sure you could feel the tent growing against his pants.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Wha-"

"You wanna know why? Huh," He asked through gritted teeth, his face hovered dangerously close to yours that you could feel the hot breath coming through his nose. Bucky didn't give you time to answer because he roughly crashed his lips towards yours. He wasted no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

Bucky could feel your hands against his chest, pushing him away. He could hear the muffled pleas of protest as he relentlessly assaulted your mouth. His lips left yours only to find themselves on your neck, sucking on your skin.

"Bu.. Bucky.. stop.. s-s-top." Tears cascaded down your cheeks, but you were frozen in spot, unable to wipe them away.

But Bucky ignored your appeal. He continued sucking your skin while his hands traveled your side, feeling you up. When he couldn't get enough of you, he bit the skin on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain. "Stop! Stop, get off me!"

Still, Bucky did not listen. Dissatisfied with his actions, he dragged and threw you towards the couch; he straddled over you, your hands pinned on the cushion. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his hold.

Bucky pulled your shirt up and found his lips back on your skin again; this time, he latched on your erect nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. When he was done abusing both your buds, he moved to kiss your lips again, but your tear-stricken face met his eyes.

Bucky went stiff as a board, and you used that opportunity to push him, backing off as far as you can from him. Your loud sobs filled the house as you sank to a pool at your feet, hugging your knees to yourself.

You couldn't believe what your step-brother had done. Your mind couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Bucky sat motionless, his horror-struck at his deed. He bit back the long line of profanities that ran inside his head as he stared dumbfounded at your crumpled figure.

A painful pang of guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done?

"Y/n.. I-I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said and scrambled out of the house.

Bucky didn't come home for three days while you spent it in a daze.

Bucky kissed you; he put his tongue inside your mouth. He touched you in your private parts. He sucked on your nipple while you lay beneath him. He held you like a lover would.

But he was your brother; why would he do that?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you out from your thoughts. Your gaze met Bucky's; he had dark circles around his eyes, and you wondered briefly whose house he crashed when he didn't come home.

"Bucky…" You stood from the couch and approached him.

Bucky liked that about you. You were brave and face things head-on; you're not one to back down, just cause you were scared. But he doesn't think he could handle you right now, not after what he's done. He walked past you, intent on ignoring you.

"After what you did, I at least deserve to know the truth, don't you think?"

Your words hit home. You were right; you deserved at least that much. Sighing, he turned back and sat down on the couch.

"I know this is downright wrong, but I'm in love with you, y/n," Bucky confessed softly, and he heard your small gasp.

"But, we're… I'm your sister."

"step-sister," He corrected. "I can't help it. I love you more than a step-brother could love his step-sister. I love you as a woman y/n. I tried to stop it, but it was hard."

You deserved to know the truth no matter how disgusting, condemning, or how sinful it was.

"I am still trying." Bucky continued, and this time, he gave you a firm look. "And I need, need you to help me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you want me to do, Buck?"

"Stay away from me."

You pulled back in shock. "But-"

"No buts!" He hissed. "Can't you see how hard this is for me? You think it's easy to stay away from you when I love you?" He pleaded. "After this, I want you to stay away, don't talk to me unless it's a life or death situation."

"Mom and dad will notice."

"Then don't make them notice." He got up and approached you, then reached for your hand, clasping them together. "Please, y/n, you have to."

With a heavy heart, you nodded. Bucky moved and gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and it felt like goodbye.

Weeks quickly flew by, fortunately for the both of you, your parents didn't notice a thing. You bickered like you used to during breakfast, but both of you knew that it was forced. When they weren't around, which was much since both of them worked, you barely talked to each other and were barely left alone in the house.

Bucky spent most of his time playing basketball -his new hobby to get his mind off you. He's always gone during weekends playing with his college friend Sam Wilson. You saw the guy once when Bucky invited him to dinner with your family. After that, Sam can frequently be seen in the house. Your parents were cool with it since Steve didn't come home for summer.

One afternoon, Sam was there again; you could hear their banter all the way up to your room. However, what really bothered you though was the presence of a woman -Sharon. She's Bucky and Sam's classmate in one of their class, and along with Sam, she started hanging out at your house.

You groaned, annoyed. You couldn't focus on the application essay you were supposed to write with that woman's shrill voice downstairs. You slammed your fist against your study table, intent on giving the three a piece of your mind. You stood up and marched downstairs, catching their attention.

Sharon sat between Sam and Bucky, and they were pretty occupied with a mobile game before you came.

"Can you guys keep it down? You're not the only people in the house."

"Oops, sorry, y/n." Sharon squeaked.

"We'll keep it down," Sam promised.

You just nodded before glaring at Bucky, who did not even acknowledge your presence. You grumbled something before storming back to your room, slamming the door close.

Sharon and Sam ended up having dinner with them again. With Sharon seated beside Bucky, again. Your mom told them to drop by again. And, Bucky walked Sharon home, again.

And you were getting tired of this. You wanted to help Bucky, but you can't just sit back and watch him replace you with someone else. No, you can't allow it. This has to stop.

You waited for Bucky to come home; you were in his room sitting on his bed with a determined look on your face.

As soon as Bucky stepped inside, he was shoved against the door, making it slam close. He winced at the pain on his back, but he was startled and shocked when he felt your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. His first instinct was to push you away, but his desire got the better of him. His eyes slipped close, and he kissed you back passionately.

Bucky's thoughts were in a haze as both your lips danced with each other. It didn't take long for him to invade the warmth of your mouth, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, while your hands curled around the front of his shirt, trapped between your heated bodies.

"Why," He moaned before pulling away.

Your ragged breaths filled the room; you looked at him with glistening eyes. "I don't care anymore, Bucky. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be replaced by Sam or Sharon or anyone else." A tear escaped your eye, and it cascaded down your cheek.

Bucky leaned down and kissed it away, the salty taste lingering in his tongue.

"I want you back, Bucky."

Bucky felt a painful tug on his heart at the sight. He loves you, but he was also the one making you cry. He cannot bear the thought of hurting you. He caressed your cheek and gazed at you lovingly, longingly.

"You're making this hard for me, y/n. For the both of us."

You shook your head once more and pulled his face close to yours. "I don't care anymore, James Barnes. Love me any way you want, just don't… don't leave me again."

Bucky froze at your words. He pulled away then grasped both your shoulders. "Y/n, you don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I'm not a child anymore. I want how we used to be; if accepting your love could get things back to the way it was, I accept it.

Bucky shook his head. "No,…no y/n, nothing will ever be the same if you let me love you the way I want to."

Your face visibly fell at his words. Feeling hopeless, you asked. "Why?"

"Why?" Bucky asked back softly. "Because unlike then, I'll kiss you more like this…" He started and gave you a sensual kiss on the lips. "I'll hold your hand like this…" His hand went to yours, and he intertwined your fingers.

"We used to do that when we were kids."

Bucky just hummed in response. "And I'll pull you close to me like this…" He continued and did just as he said. He pulled you against his heated body and inhaled your scent. "And you'll always ignite that burning feeling inside me, y/n. So, unless you get used to these things, I will not let you do this."

"But we used to do some of those."

"It's going to be a lot different now."

"I don't care. I'm used to it. In fact, I miss it. Don't ever leave me again, Bucky, please. I love you so much."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart against his. He pulled you in once more for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, y/n. You don't know how much you make me happy."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #james buchanan barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

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I Get To Love You || Tyson Jost

Authors Note: When you get an idea that keeps you up until 3:30 in the morning...So I basically planned out this entire wedding but I don’t want to clog up this already overly long fic with a dozen photos. So I’ll post all of those separately along with the first dance song. All three will be tagged ‘033’ for those of you that find this through tags and don’t want to search through pages of my blog.

Song Inspiration: I Get to Love You - Ruelle

Warnings: none Word Count: 4,987 Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

~~~~~~~~~

The idea had come unexpectedly. You’d been brushing your teeth before bed when Tyson had slipped in behind you, his hands falling to your waist. Leaning back against him, you relaxed, the fatigue of the day finally settling deep in your bones.

You’d been running around since early in the morning, taking groceries to Tyson’s grandparents and visiting with them for a while while keeping your distance. Then you’d been roped into volleyball lessons with Kacey which only caused Tyson to laugh at you as you missed the ball entirely or failed to get it over the net on the off chance you did hit it. He’d hovered over your shoulder as you insisted on cooking his family dinner, your way of saying thank you for being so welcoming since you’d arrived. By the time you retreated back to Tyson’s childhood bedroom, you were ready to crawl into bed and cuddle your boyfriend.

“We should get married.”

For a moment you thought you’d imagined the words, but then Tyson squeezed your hip and you realized he had actually spoken and was waiting for a response. Nearly choking on toothpaste you quickly spit it out, twisting in his grasp.

“Umm...excuse me?” You questioned, your eyes wide with shock. You’d only been dating for eight months, though you’d been friends for nearly a year before you’d gotten together romantically. Getting married was something that had been only vaguely mentioned...the future, in general, had only come up casually once or twice.

“We should get married,” Tyson repeated, a shrug of his shoulders making light of his words while the look in his eyes revealed his sincerity and vulnerability.

Leaving your toothbrush laying on the bathroom counter, you tugged Tyson back into his bedroom. There, you plopped yourself onto the edge of the bed, guiding your boyfriend to stand between your legs.

“What brought this on?” You finally whispered, trying to figure out what was going on in Tyson’s head. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, honestly, it was something you frequently dreamed about, but you needed to understand why this had come up out of nowhere, long before you had expected it.

Tyson shrugged again, and you reached forward to take his hands, playing lightly with his fingertips.

“Dunno…” He mumbled. Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he continued. “Honestly...I’ve been thinking about it for months…”

“How long?” You breathed, the thrum of your pulse steadily increasing.

“The charity brunch.” Your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ shape and you peered up at him through your eyelashes. Another thousand questions came to mind but you felt Tyson shift nervously in front of you, so you hesitated in voicing them.

“I just…” Tyson’s voice was soft. “You’re so perfect. Sometimes I can’t believe you love me. Seeing you around my teammates, seeing you around complete strangers...you’re incredible. And I want...I want what Gabe has. I want an amazing, beautiful wife to come home to. Eventually, I want kids to cuddle and chase around. And you...you’re the only one I can picture all of that with. You’re the one I want all of that with.”

You didn’t need Tyson’s explanation to be convinced...truthfully your hesitations were silenced as soon as he mentioned that this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing.

“You’re the one I want all of that with too.” You admitted, tears pooling in your eyes as Tyson sunk to his knees in front of you. In his eyes, you saw steady warmth, the twinkle that only appeared when he was looking at you. At the same time, you saw that ounce of fear, his worries about never being good enough, his concerns that stemmed from not having his dad in his life. He’d never voiced them, but you knew that he’d always worried that he’d never have a complete family of his own.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his and let out a somewhat shaky breath.

“Do you really want to get married?” You questioned.

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t.” Tyson’s response that he was sure, the knowledge that getting married was for all of the right reasons, being certain that you both wanted the same things, that was really all you needed. Pulling back you reached up and brushed your thumbs along Tyson’s cheeks, a smile growing on your face.

“Let’s get married.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, trying to quiet Tyson’s whoops at the same time as he tackled you backward onto his bed, wrapping you up in his arms.

“Yeah?” He asked giddiness on full display.

“Yeah.” You agreed. The decision was sealed with a passionate kiss, one that was only broken as Tyson brushed against a spot that made you giggle because it tickled.

Eventually, you pushed him away, getting up to finish getting ready for bed. Though you knew you needed to sleep and your body was exhausted, your mind was filled with a new level of energy stemming from knowing that you were actually going to get to marry the love of your life and your best friend.

Laying tucked into the crook of Tyson’s arm, you gently trailed your fingers up and down his chest.

“So when can we get married?” Tyson murmured. “Tomorrow?”

“Wait what?” You replied, your voice coming out in a squeak. Tilting your head up, you peered at him through the darkness.

“You just agreed to marry me didn’t you?” Tyson insisted.

“I didn’t know you meant like right away!” You whisper yelled.

“Why wait?” The question was so matter of fact that it took you off guard. “I know you’ve never wanted a big wedding anyway.” He added.

“Yeah but…” It seemed insane to just get married out of the blue but while you tried to find a reason why you couldn’t, none came to mind. “Don’t you want your family there?” Was the only thing you could think of. “Your teammates even?” Tyson’s fingers carded through your hair for a moment as silence filled the space between you. Fallouts with your family meant that there wasn’t anyone you needed to have at your wedding but Tyson had close relationships with his family and friends and you couldn’t believe that he wanted to get married without their presence.

“I mean yeah I guess I want my immediate family there.” He murmured. “But I certainly don’t want to wait on a pandemic to end just to get married.” He added. The more you thought about it, the more that getting married now grew in appeal. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you pondered for a moment.

“Well, we can’t get married tomorrow...I’m sure getting a marriage license will probably at least take a few days. You know...as will finding someone to marry us.” You reasoned. “And maybe you’re right that I don’t want a big wedding but I only plan on doing this once so can we at least plan something small and intimate? Not just do like a city hall thing?” Tyson’s lips pressed against the top of your head before leaning down to meet your own in a sweet kiss.

“Whatever you want…” He agreed. “But let’s keep it a secret until we’re actually doing it.”

“Tys…” You gasped.

“What?” He laughed, mocking offense. “Don’t you think it will be fun to surprise everyone?”

There was a certain appeal to keeping your impending marriage a secret for a few days. You just weren’t sure how feasible it actually was.

“C’mon babe...imagine the look on my mom’s face.” He prodded. Sighing, you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” You conceded, a slight smile spreading across your face as you saw the triumphant grin spread over his. Gently he bumped his nose against your own before kissing you once more.

“I love you.” He mused. “And I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Jost.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the thought and you leaned up to kiss him one more time.

“I love you too, you crazy man.” You teased. “Now go to sleep. We have planning to do in the morning.”

~~~

It had been a whirlwind three days and to be honest you were shocked that Tyson’s family hadn’t started asking questions. Immediately upon waking up the morning after you and Tyson had decided to get married, you went online to order a dress paying for rush shipping and praying that it arrived quickly. Breakfast with his mom and sister was followed by running down to the local registrar for a marriage certificate, calling a local florist and baker from the car to see about possibly having something done last minute, however simple. If there was one advantage to getting married during a pandemic it was that every business was eager for new orders and was happy to put something together even with the tight time frame.

Day two of your wedding preparations was split. Tyson had insisted that he didn’t really care about the flowers or cake (as long as it was chocolate) and that he had something else that needed done. So you’d borrowed his mom’s car to go meet with the florist and baker, immediately falling in love with what they had planned and making arrangements to pick the items up in two days. It was harder than you imagined to keep all of the plans to yourself, and you were practically jittery by the time you and Tyson retreated to bed, eager to share with him. As you readied for bed you watched him slip two small boxes into his nightstand.

“Did you get rings?” You questioned, voice practically shaking at the thought. Tyson chuckled and nodded as he pushed the drawer closed.

“Did you think we’d get married without rings?” He teased. “But you can’t see them.” He added. Your pout and puppy eyes were met with resistance until you sighed.

“Fine. Then you can’t see the dress.” It was silly for you to think that would sway him because Tyson only smiled down at you wistfully.

“Perfect.” He declared. “I don’t want to see it until you’re walking outside to marry me anyway.” As he settled into bed beside you a few minutes later he pulled you closer, tucking you into his side. “I also arranged for someone to marry us.” He whispered.

“Hmm...that’s good. That’s kinda important.” You declared. He proceeded to share what he had told the officiant regarding your thoughts for the ceremony and you nodded along. There were still moments where it amazed you that he was on the same wavelength as you but at the same time that was one of the many reasons you couldn’t wait to marry him. Together you decided that your vows were going to be maybe not entirely written given the time crunch but certainly chosen individually rather than the standard traditional vow.

In only two days you had been able to knock off a good portion of a list for a simple wedding so the third day was spent just tying it all together. Tyson had convinced his grandparents to come over for dinner, outdoors of course, and you’d ordered catering for the six of you. Your dress had arrived and you’d sneakily tried it on, crying as the fabric settled over your hips. It was in that moment that it clicked how real this was. That tomorrow you’d become a married woman.

Less than 12 hours later, the day of your wedding finally arrived and it was the hardest yet to keep your mouth shut. While Tyson went rollerblading, you convinced his mom and sister to do home manicures with you. It was clear that they were starting to suspect that something was up but thankfully Tyson arrived back home before the other women in his life were able to crack you. After lunch, he convinced his mom and sister to go shopping, before picking up his grandparents on their way back for dinner.

With them gone you were able to set up the yard for a small ceremony while Tyson picked up the cake, flowers, and food. About an hour before the time you’d set, you slipped upstairs to do your hair and makeup, your excitement growing. When Tyson returned, he slipped into your room to kiss you quickly.

“Next time I see you…” He trailed off, winking. A giddy smile lit your face as you watched Tyson grab a change of clothes before slipping into a different bathroom. As you slipped into your dress you could hear him talking to first your officiant and then his family, urging his mom and sister to change quickly before heading outside because he had a surprise for them. There was a rush of activity for a few minutes before it all went quiet and you peeked your head out of Tyson’s room before slowly making your way downstairs.

From just inside the backdoor you could hear Kacey bugging her brother about what was going on.

“What do you think?” He inquired. Shooting him a quick text to see if they were ready for you, you set your phone on the table and picked up the bouquet of flowers hidden in one of the pantry cabinets. Your phone quickly buzzed and then the sound of the classic wedding march drifted inside from a speaker you’d placed out there.

“I guess it’s go time.” You whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath before letting your hand fall to the handle of the backdoor. As you slowly walked outside a part of you wanted to see the reactions of Tyson’s family. Instead, your eyes drifted to your groom watching as he broke into tears at the sight of you. You’d asked him the other night if he was going to cry and he swore he wouldn’t but...you were beyond glad he’d been wrong.

Stepping forward you let Tys take your hand, his eyes drifting up and down your body.

“You pulled this dress off in three days?” He mumbled. “You’re stunning.”

“You clean up pretty well too.” You replied. “Well besides the hair.” You teased knowing he hadn’t been able to get it taken care of for far too long.

“Are you two serious right now?” The sound of Kacey’s voice drew your attention and you glanced over to see his entire family getting emotional. Kacey was wiping tears from her eyes and you sent her a watery smile of your own.

“You can blame your brother for making me keep it a secret.” You insisted, praying that his family would be okay with this.

Before anyone else could comment, your officiant suggested that you proceed and you nodded, turning your attention to him as he oh so officially announced that they had all gathered together in order to witness the union of you and Tyson. He explained that per the wishes of the bride and groom that we were going to keep it brief and he asked Tyson if he wanted to start with the vows.

“Y/N, from this day forward I promise to be worth it. Worth the time. Worth the trip. Worth the energy. Worth the embarrassment. Worth your love. I promise that you will always count. You will always come first. Yes, even above hockey, believe it or not. From the moment you entered my world, you have filled it with life, colour, and energy. You are my best friend, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and who I want by my side through all of life’s challenges and adventures. I promise to be faithful, I promise to make you laugh, and I promise to love you. Now and Forever.”

Silently you thanked God for waterproof mascara and eyeliner as you wiped frantically at your cheeks.

“Y/N,” Your officiant prompted. Clearing your throat you squeezed Tyson’s hand, trying to remember what it was that you wanted to say.

“There are three words that are stronger than I love you. Today I stand in front of you to say ‘I choose you’. I choose you over all others. I choose you to share happiness with. I choose you to care for. I choose you to have a family with. I choose you to grow with. I choose you to love forever. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. There isn’t another soul on this planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I’m with you. I am forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me and I can’t wait to see what our future holds.”

By the end of your vows, your voice had cracked more than once and Tyson brushed his thumb over the back of your hand as a signal of strength. Your officiant asked Tyson if he had the rings and letting go of your hand for just a moment he dug them out of his pocket.

In turn, each of you repeated after the officiant as you slid rings onto each other’s left hand.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Your hand was shaking as you slid the ring over Tyson’s knuckles but once his hand was back in yours you felt a wave of calm rush over you.

“And now I guess it’s time for the part that I know Tyson has been eagerly awaiting.” Your officiant joked. “It’s certainly my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. You can kiss your bride.”

Tyson didn’t hesitate to follow that directive, tugging your body close to his as he pressed his lips to yours, dipping you slightly. As he righted you onto your feet he reached up to brush your remaining tears away before taking your hand once more.

“Mr. & Mrs. Tyson Jost.” Your officiant announced and you watched as Tyson’s family all stood to clap, smiles on their faces. As Tyson tucked you into his side, Kacey rushed up out of her chair and over to hug the two of you before pulling back and smacking her brother.

“How dare you keep this a secret.” She scolded, scowling at him for just a moment before the smile broke through again. “I have a sister!” She exclaimed, her arms wrapping around you once more.

“Kace...let her breathe please.” Tys chastised, ruffling his sister’s hair.

“I’m sorry! I’m excited!” Kacey declared.

“We all are.” Tyson’s mom, Laura, insisted. Her arms were the next to wrap around you and she whispered her thanks for making her son happy in your ear. Her hug with Tyson was much longer and you watched with fondness as he basked in his mother’s touch and words.

As much as you wanted to hug Tyson’s grandparents you knew that you should keep some distance so instead, you settled for a squeeze of each of their hands. His grandmother commented on how she had never seen Tyson so happy and his grandfather declared that he hoped his grandson knew how lucky he was because you were a special woman and looked absolutely beautiful. Thanking them both, you expressed how much you appreciate them being there to witness your special day and how you knew Tyson wouldn’t have wanted to do it without them.

After a moment Tyson’s arms came sneaking around your waist and he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You felt him dig in his pocket again before he reached for your hand, slipping another band onto the same finger as your new wedding ring. Glancing up at him with a puzzled expression, you felt him squeeze your hip before speaking.

“Did you really think I’d deprive you of an engagement ring?” He teased. “Figured I at least owed you that since I technically didn’t propose. Plus they just look better as a set.” He added. Glancing down at your newly ring laden left hand you had to admit he was right. While your wedding ring was gorgeous all on its own, the addition of the second band made it all feel complete.

You didn’t have long to bask in the arms of your husband...that was something you weren’t sure you’d be over saying any time soon...before the sound of his stomach growling filled your ears.

“Think we should maybe serve that dinner we promised everyone?” You inquired, turning to kiss Tyson before pulling away.

Before you could even make it into the kitchen, Tyson’s mom and sister waylaid you.

“You are not serving dinner in that dress.” Laura scolded. “We can do whatever needs done.” Throwing your hands up in surrender you backed off.

“Everything is in the oven keeping warm, it just needs served.” You explained. “And a bottle of wine or two needs opened.” You added. Kacey and Laura jumped into action, pulling the food out of the oven and cracking open a few bottles of wine. Tyson insisted that you settle into a chair at the table on the patio and he’d bring food out so you complied, leaning back and just examining your rings. You were married. It just hadn’t fully set in yet.

Dinner was full of questions: when you had decided to get married, how you had pulled it all together, how you had managed to keep it a secret. Laura mentioned that it was the best surprise her son had ever managed to pull off and that even if she wanted to be mad she couldn’t, seeing how happy the two of you were. It was Kacey that asked when she could expect to become an aunt and a panicked expression flittered over your face for a moment as you looked at Tyson.

“Give us some time okay sis?” Tyson declared, his hand rubbing over your thigh. “We just got married…” He took a sip of his wine before shaking his head. “We want kids but let us enjoy being newlyweds for a while before we think about adding that responsibility.”

“You know...my first thought when I realized you were getting married was ‘did you knock her up…’” Tyson’s grandmother declared. A flush littered your cheeks as you shook your head frantically. “I’m glad that’s not the reason.” She added. “Though I certainly wouldn’t mind having a few great-grandbabies at some point when the two of you decide you’re ready.”

With the obligatory topic of kids covered you relaxed back into your chair, letting your dinner digest as you basked in time spent with Tyson’s family. Your family.

“So what’s first…?” Laura inquired. “First dance or cake?” Glancing at Tyson you shrugged leaving the choice up to him. When his hand reached out to you, you let him pull you from your chair. As he stood in the middle of the yard he paused.

“We didn’t pick a song.” He mumbled. Giggling at him you quickly pecked his lips before moving to grab your phone from the table, scrolling to the song you had in mind before pressing play and letting it spill from the speaker.

“Now we do.” You replied, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled your body into his own. You’d danced with Tyson plenty of times, but this time definitely felt different as you swayed slowly to the music. This song was everything you wanted to say to him, everything you’d been feeling not just the past few days but since you’d gotten together in the first place. As your favorite part of the song approached you reached up to cup Tyson’s cheek, singing along to the words as you looked up at him.

And they say love is a journey

I promise that I'll never leave

When it's too heavy to carry

Remember this moment with me

You felt the shudder pass through Tyson’s body as the tears filled his eyes once more. Stretching to press your forehead to his, you kissed him softly.

“I’m yours.” You whispered. “You don’t have to worry about any of that anymore.” Tyson’s grip tightened and he buried his head in your neck as you settled back onto the flats of your feet. “Shh.” You whispered, your hand carding through his hair as you pulled him tightly against you. Glancing over at where Tyson’s family had been watching the two of you, you noticed that they had all disappeared, giving the two of you a moment of much-needed privacy.

It took a few minutes for Tyson to regain control of his emotions and you kissed him again, smiling up at him.

“I’m so goddamn lucky.” He stated. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. My husband.” Your grin turned to a burst of laughter as Tyson spun you around the yard. “Now should we go get cake?” You asked. “You know before your family eats it all.”

He insisted that they wouldn’t and you knew he was right but it had made him smile and that was the goal. The cake was on the counter ready to be cut by the time you got inside and with Tyson’s hand over yours, you cut the first piece. His mom took over from there, handing you a plate and you quickly cut off a small piece before lifting it with your fingers to smash into Tyson’s face.

His shocked expression was worth any repercussions and the fact that Kacey had gotten video of it on her phone made it that much better. After wiping his face clean, Tyson took the plate and while you expected him to do the same to you, he simply got a bite on the fork and fed it to you gently. Though you’d kissed him what felt like a hundred times today, you kissed him once more before taking the fresh piece his mom had served, this time all for you.

After dessert, Kacey and Tyson’s grandparents left so that she could get them home and Laura insisted that she would clean up and that you two should just go relax. That was how you ended up curled in Tyson’s lap outside as he pressed kisses to your head and ran his fingers over the bands on your left hand. Lost in his presence and touch you hadn’t even noticed him reach for his phone until he was flashing the screen in your face showing you a picture he’d just taken. It was clear that you were curled in his lap and wearing a white dress, though you couldn’t see either of your faces. Instead, the focus of the shot was on your left hand draped over his right forearm, your rings on display.

“Cute.” You whispered, snuggling further against him as the excitement and wine caught up to you. He lifted his right arm a bit to type frantically before putting the screen back in your face again. This time it revealed a possible Instagram post with the same picture and the caption “Here’s to Forever. #surprisinglyjost”.

“Can I?” His voice was tentative.

“Babe it’s your social. You can post whatever you want….within reason.” You could feel him roll his eyes and you sighed. “If you want to you can. I don’t care.” You knew why he was asking, people could be cruel online after all. “Maybe just restrict the comments.” You suggested knowing that way only people he followed would be allowed to reply. Nodding you watched as he adjusted his settings before hitting ‘post’.

You had kind of expected his phone to blow up when people noticed but when his phone started ringing off the hook you were more surprised than you expected. For the most part, he ignored them, even his close friends like Barzal, Fabbro, and JT. But when Gabe called first once, then twice, before requesting a FaceTime the third, you murmured for him to just answer the damn thing. Sighing Tyson complied, accepting the request before adjusting his phone in his hand.

Gabe was utterly dismayed that Tyson had gotten married and hadn’t bothered to tell anyone. Laughing to yourself, you watched as Tyson bantered back and forth with his captain before eventually agreeing that Gabe and Mel could throw you a dinner when it was safe to do so. Before he got off the phone Gabe asked one more question.

“How gorgeous did she look?” Smirking down at you Tyson kissed your head before responding.

“Absolutely stunning. I’m sure Kacey took pictures.”

“You’ve got it so bad. Good for you man. Mel and I are so happy for you.”

When Tyson hung up the phone he immediately turned his ringer to silent before gently guiding you up and off of him.

“No more distractions. I think it’s time to take my wife to bed.” He smirked. As he drug you inside, past the living room you heard Laura’s voice shout after you.

“Kacey and I have headphones but please try and be quiet.”

You could have sworn you flushed from your head to your toes as Tyson nearly choked on his own spit. Lifting and carrying you over the threshold to his room, he then gently laid you down on the bed, his body moving to press over you as his right hand trailed down your side.

“Well now that’s it's out there...what do you say, Mrs. Jost?” He smirked.

“I’d say I think you’re wearing too many clothes for that Mr. Jost.”

“Oh, that can be remedied.” He insisted, his tongue fighting for dominance as he kissed you.

And remedied it was.

A week ago you were sleeping in this bed next to your boyfriend with no idea of what the future held. Tonight you were sleeping next to your husband, and though the future may still be unclear, at least you had the most incredible man by your side for all of it.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche #cavalanche #033

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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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jhoudiey · 3 years

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The Debutante Ball is here!

There's dancing! Intrigue! ..uhhh..whatever the fuck else happens at balls. Introduce a new OC, and borrow a few from @twistedikon and @walpurga-nacht-academy no warnings 3450 words ____________________________________ “Got your key?!” Crowley chirped when they met him in the hallway near the door. Yoru rolled her eyes and pulled it from the waistband of her dress. “Oho! Look at you two! You match! How cute!!” She scoffed, uncomfortably aware how close in colour her dress was to Floyd's hair. “But we really must be off! If we’re late, Miss Astoria will be most mad at me, and I don’t want to spend the night getting yelled at!”

He marched off through the front door, Yoru and Floyd following along behind him. When they arrived at WNA, Crowley flying off to meet with the other staff to discuss the speeches they’d be giving. Yoru and Floyd met up with her RSA date near the front entrance to the manor.

“Floyd, this is Floyd” she gestured from one to the other, wondering why in the world she had invited a second Floyd to be her date, this was going to get convoluted. Floyd Leech looked down at his RSA counterpart, he must have been at least 30cms shorter than he was and at least that wider around. Floyd raised his eyebrow at Yoru and grinned, wondering what could have possessed her to invite a short, fat, blonde and blue haired boy as her date two years in a row.

“Ah Yoru-san! It’s nice to see you again! It’s nice to meet you, Floyd! I’m Floyd Dürer! Pleased to make your acquaintance!” He held out his hand, beaming at Floyd waiting for him to shake his hand. Floyd grinned and grabbed it, perhaps too hard and shook it wildly.

“Hiya Kinchakudai-chan. Nice to meet you ehe~” He showed off his teeth and the shorter Floyd quickly withdrew his hand and held out his arm for Yoru

“S-shall we go?” Yoru nodded, taking his arm, grabbing onto the taller Floyd's hand and dragging him along with them. It wouldn’t be good if she lost him before they even arrived, she was already dreading how he was going to act since she expected he’d be bored in under 10 minutes.

“After you!” Floyd gestured to the door for Yoru to unlock to take them to the mansion where the ball was to be held.

“Eeeh? We get to use a secret door? Cool!” Floyd Leech was so far entertained, Yoru hoped his mood kept up for a few hours but could never be sure what would set him off and put him in a bad mood.

They quickly spotted Jade seated at a table with Amity, Yoru's fellow second year at WNA and a student from RSA she didn’t know. Floyd skipped over to the table, dragging Yoru and Floyd behind him.

“Nee, Jade, Look! Another Floyd!” he laughed, pointing at the other boy as he made himself comfortable in the seat nearest Jade. Floyd Dürer smiled, and raised his hand as a greeting with a smile.

“Hello! It’s nice to meet you, I hope we all have a good evening!” He pulled out Yoru’s chair for her and waited for her to sit down before taking a seat for himself. Yoru had gone with him to the ball in her first year, he was one of the few students who hadn’t found a date before the deadline and she hadn’t wanted to bother searching and took whoever was available. Surprisingly she found they got along, he was a bit too sweet and naive for her, but he was pleasant enough.

She chuckled to herself thinking about the differences between the two boys she’d brought with her. The Floyd to her left was chatting animatedly to Jade, Amity, and her RSA date Xavier, laughing loudly, not caring who he may be irritating with the volume of his voice. On her right, Floyd sat quietly, looking around the room taking in the atmosphere waiting for the speeches to start, she found every time he looked at her he averted his eyes from her chest and quickly looked away.

The chatter around the room dulled as the speeches began, Yoru’s battle with Floyd just beginning. Shortly after they started, he had started loudly complaining that it was boring and he wanted to dance, she hurried to shush him hoping that the sounds didn’t carry to the front of the room. She was glad they were seated near the back and that it was unlikely anyone of consequence heard his whining. They spent the entire 20 minutes of the speeches locked in a whispered battle of him complaining, and her trying to get him to be quiet and to just suck it up. Jade grinned from his seat, clearly having more fun watching them argue as quietly as possible rather than listening to the heads of the schools talking about unity, longevity and whatever else they were rambling on about.

After the speeches were finished there was a smattering of applause, and the smaller Floyd held his hand out to her

“shall we go dance? I even made my pants talon-proof this year so you don’t need to worry about stepping on me again!” He laughed, waiting for her to take his hand. Yoru grabbed it but found she wasn’t able to stand. She had started panicking, thinking of last year’s ball where she spent the evening tripping over herself trying to learn the proper steps. Floyd had been very patient with her and hadn’t minded that she managed to shred both her dress and his pants every time she overstepped by accident.

“Um… I think I need something to eat first..” She muttered, dropping his hand and striding towards the table laden with food, feeling less confident in her choice of clothing by the moment. She shouldn’t have let Floyd talk her into going. She felt someone uncomfortably close behind her and knew who it was before he even opened his mouth

“Hey Fugu-chan, is this ball always this boring? I didn’t think it would be so stuffy” Floyd asked, plucking a tart off her plate and dropping it into his mouth. She glowered at him, adding more food to her plate while slapping his hand away from further thievery.

“Get your own plate” She complained, turning back to the table. There were already couples dancing on the floor, she looked on with envy wishing she had their grace. She was only ever graceful in the air, but her wings hadn’t fully grown back yet so at best she could manage an awkward lopsided flutter.

She’d barely finished eating when the polite Floyd offered his hand, another offer to dance. She reached for his hand again before it was pulled away by the more insistent Floyd.

“Come on Fugu-chan! Dance with me instead!!” He dragged her to the middle of the dance floor where he paid no mind to the other dancers, nor the music and threw his body around wildly, spinning her whenever he had the chance.

“Floyd, would you stop? Everyone is looking at us!” She growled at him, trying to hold him in place. He glared at her

“Huuuuuh? We’re supposed to dance, so I’m dancing, don’t know why you have a problem with it” he wretched free of her grip and continued to writhe around, bumping into everyone around them.

“Floyd! You can’t just do anything you want here, I could get in trouble if you cause a scene, cut the shit!” He frowned at her and stopped dancing, crossing his arms.

“If you didn’t want me to dance why’d you even invite me?” he complained. Yoru stared at him, wishing she could just throw him in the lake like she usually would.

“You can dance, just… do it properly. I don’t wanna get thrown out. The headmistress is really strict” She sighed, hoping that he’d listen to her this time. He sighed dramatically

“whatever Fugu-chan, this is boring anyway” he sulked and lumbered off the dance floor, sitting back down at the table they’d started from.

“Umm Yoru, would you like to dance?” A soft voice from behind her asked, she turned and saw the shorter Floyd carefully avoiding his view at eye level. She nodded and took his hand

“Thanks. I haven’t really practiced so sorry in advance” she grimaced at him and looked down at her feet, trying to follow his lead. After a few dances she was starting to get more comfortable, and her nerves began to fade. There were more couples dancing now, and they were more easily lost in the crowd, so she suspected fewer people would see her stumble. Floyd glared at the pair of them from where he sat hunched at their table.

“This is so booooorrrriiiinnnggggg” Floyd complained to himself. He was alone at the table, Jade was dancing with Amity somewhere in the center of the room, Xavier had excused himself to another table in the meantime, Azul was busy dancing too and would make him do all sorts of boring work if he interrupted. He sighed glancing around the room for something to do. He spotted Riddle dancing with some bunny girl across the room and had half a thought to go harass him before he remembered what Yoru had said about him getting her in trouble by causing a scene. He grumbled loudly and looked around the room for someone else he could bother, spotting Idia and Vita in the back corner of the room. Perfect.

“Hotaru Ika senpaiiiiiiiiii” He sang, flopping himself down at their table “entertain me, Yoru told me I couldn’t dance anymore” Vita glared at him as Idia fidgeted with his hands, he never really knew what to do with Floyd. He really wasn’t sure how Yoru put up with him all the time, he was so hard to deal with. When he didn’t answer Floyd turned to Vita

“Shiromakajiki- chan why aren’t you dancing? Do you not know how? I can show you” She sighed and continued to glare at him

“pray tell, don’t you have anyone else to prattle on to? We aren’t interested in your company” He pouted at her

“Too bad, everyone else is dancing and I’m bored. So do you need me to teach you? You do look like you don’t know how…” She scoffed at his accusation

“Scurry along now, won’t you, I wish to spend the evening with my husband and you’re interrupting”

“husband?” Floyd asked, raising an eyebrow at Idia “I didn’t know you were married, Hotaru Ika senpai! How did that happen, you’re such a shut in!” Idia chuckled a little, and scratched his head

“umm… you know.. We’re not actually… umm” He withered under Vitas stare, she sat up in her chair, fixing Floyd with the coldest gaze she could manage, bristling at the insult to Idia.

“Has the bird tired of you already? I know she hesitated to bring you in the first place, and now I see why” Floyd looked at her, confused.

“What do you mean she didn’t want to bring me?” he pouted. Vita laughed in his face.

“Oh, did Birdy not tell you that everyone else she inquired about in the first place had already secured a date and that you were her last choice? How tragic, the eel doesn’t even know he’s unwanted” She sneered at him, waiting for him to crumble before her. He glared at her as she waved him away as if he were nothing more than a gnat. Floyd sighed and wandered away from the table, he looked over to the dance floor and saw Yoru dancing with the other Floyd, they were laughing and seemed to be having a good time, they were perfectly fine without him.

Floyd walked out onto the balcony, his mood soured. Why had she even invited him if she didn’t want to? He launched himself over the bannister of the balcony and swung himself down into the garden to wander. Everyone was too busy tonight to entertain him, he found himself really lonely despite there being people peppered everywhere outside. He wondered if Jade and Azul thought he was a burden on them too, or if it was just Yoru.

Floyd walked through the garden until he came to a small pond, crouching at the edge to throw small stones across it, lost in thought. It had been nearly an hour before Yoru had ventured out to the garden to find him. She had seen him leave, but had almost mastered the foxtrot and wanted to make sure she had the steps right before asking him to dance. She knew he was more likely to make fun of her for a misstep, so she’d made sure it was perfect before being confident enough to track him down to ask.

“What are you doing out here? I learned a dance, come on” She said, gesturing back towards the mansion. He sighed and shook his head,

“was I really your last choice, Fugu-chan?” he pouted, refusing to look at her. She tilted her head, confused. Where in the world was this coming from.

“Huh? I…oh... I guess you were, though not like I really asked many people. Come on though, you said you wanted to dance earlier so I learned one” she held out her hand to him, he pushed it away before standing up to look down on her.

“You're acting really weird tonight Fugu-chan, I don’t like it” she took a half step back from him, annoyed that she’d spent the last hour trying to learn a dance so he wouldn’t be bored but he ignored her offer.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, perhaps a little too quickly “what do you mean I’m acting different?” Floyd glared at her and crossed his arms,

“you’re being all stuck up and stuff. It’s not like you” she took a step back towards him

“stuck up how? Because I don’t want you to get me kicked out of school?” He held his ground against her advance

“yea. Since when do you care about stuff like that?” he complained

“since i was able to get into the school I’ve wanted to attend since I was a kid and I don’t want you to ruin it? I’m already on thin ice here so you can’t just do whatever you want and not worry about any consequences because it doesn’t affect you!”

“haaaah? how would I ruin it?” Before long they were standing inches apart arguing, one breath away from shouting at each other.

“The way you act! You can’t just do whatever you want wherever you are, don’t you realize the problems you cause for people? I know you’re not that dumb, so unless you’re actually stupid you have to be doing it on purpose, right?” She shouted at him

“Eeeeeeh? I just wanna have fun! You’re the idiot out here looking and acting like some lame human following all the boring customs and rules! Its so lame!”

“WHAT?” she shrieked “I’m only here because you guilted me into it, I didn’t even want to come!”

“so why did you?!”

“You conned me into it when I hadn’t slept in 3 days! How the hell was I supposed to fight back? Not all of us are perfect like you, Floyd!”

“Eh? Who said anything about being perfect! You just need to be you,Fugu-chan, not this weird stuck up wannabe human!”

“Well sorry I’m not living up to your expectations, I’ll make sure I go back to hating myself and this stupid fucking dress. Is that what you want?”

“Heeeeeeeeh? Are you stupid?I just said -”

“It doesn’t matter what you said, I know what you meant! This whole night is a joke to you! I’m a joke to you!”

“ What? Do your ears not work, Fugu-chan? What do you expect me to say? That you do look like an idiot in your dress and that you’re pathetic for even pretending? Is that what you want to hear? Huh?”

She lunged and him and grabbed him by his shirt collar

“say it again. I dare you.” he grabbed onto her wrist and pried her hand off of his shirt, making sure to squeeze as hard as possible. He could feel her bones grinding together as he dragged her closer to him so he could stare into her face fully to repeat himself.

“I said you look stupid, Fugu-chan. Who the hell are you trying to fool looking like this? You’re never going to be human so why do you keep pretending? Just give up already”. Rage flared in her stomach and her eyes burned, she forgot where they were for a moment as she moved to attack Floyd with her free hand.

“YORU! Miss Astoria will be most displeased if you get blood all over her lovely garden! Time to come back inside!” Crowley had landed beside them and caught her hand before she could strike, tearing her away from Floyd and dragging her back into the ballroom.

“Now, I don't know what Mr. Floyd Leech-kun said, but that’s no reason to attack him! And Nugget, going for his throat… while that is normally an excellent striking point, I can’t have you murdering my students, please keep that in mind!” she wretched herself from his grasp and nearly walked directly into the other Floyd.

“Ah Yoru-san! I …. Are you okay?” He noticed the look on her face and reached for his handkerchief.

“I’m fine” She muttered, trying to push past him to get herself to the exit as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the most anticipated and largest waltz of the night had started and the room was full of couples dancing and weaving through the room, making an escape difficult.

“Here, I’ll dance you to the exit. This one is easy enough, just follow my lead” Floyd said to her gently, steering them towards the exit. Yoru focused on her feet, letting herself be dragged along by the shorter boy.

“Umm, I’m sorry for saying this, but we heard you two in the garden…” She gave him a half glance in panic, he looked at her with sad eyes. “Everyone outside heard, your voices carried so loudly… I’m sorry Yoru-san. Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head furiously, tears streaming down her face as she refused to look at him. Everyone knew. She knew that she was a fraud but had told herself that somehow everything would turn out alright, she should have known that Floyd was right and she looked like a fool. Despite her best efforts, she’d humiliated herself again, she just hoped that she wouldn’t get scolded by the headmistress. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle it, not tonight.

They danced nearer and nearer the exit, Floyd squeezing her hand gently in an effort to comfort her. When they reached the door he made sure to give her his handkerchief so that she would be able to dry her eyes when she needed to. He watched her rush from the room and out the door as Floyd Leech glared at them from a back table.

He’d slinked back into the ballroom shortly after their argument and watched her dance across the room wanting to chase after her, but Crowley was nearby and likely to stop them. That was no fun. He didn’t like seeing her with the other Floyd, even if she was mad at him it should have been him she was dancing with. They argued all the time and it was always fine in the end, he didn’t know why she was so angry this time. This is just what they did. They bickered but always laughed about it afterwards. She didn’t laugh this time though. He sighed wondering if he’d finally gone too far and she was going to stop being his friend now, that seemed to be how things usually went for him.

When Yoru returned home she tore the dress from her body, sequins falling to the floor. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror in the closet and screamed. She couldn’t even look at herself, why had she ever thought that tonight would be okay despite how she looked. She was a joke, and no amount of pretty clothing or makeup would change that. She wretched the mirror off the wall, dragged it to the upper landing and threw it down the stairs. She repeated the process with the mirror in the bathroom, she was done looking at her disgusting bird body. Floyd was right. She was never going to be human. Never. He was right. She collapsed to the floor, lost herself in the knowledge she was and always would be a failure.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #yoru crowley #floyd leech #twisted wonderland #twst #floyd durer #twisute oc #twst fic #twst oc fic #walpurga nacht academy #debutante ball #dire crowley

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chibinekochan · 3 years

Text

Angel in Hell Season 2 part 2

part 1 I

Gen. reader insert.

Words - 1.9k

Taglist:

@gothjuulpod ; @purgatoryhall ; @sibit360 ; @a-personnamed-ace ; @romy350-romyakari

I will address the previous Human Mc as Mc. I just want to avoid confusion. I hope everyone is okay with this.

I also have a warning for whatever Satan is doing. In case that you are sensitive to abusive behavior, this might be a trigger. So just skip everything that happens in his room.

I added a * when it ends.

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

Both of you leave Mammon's room.

You go to Satan's room. There are books even on his bed. It looks like he is researching something.

"Do you want some tea?" Satan makes some space for you on a chair.

"That sounds good." You sit down and see some notes on the table.

One catches your eye. You glance at the title: Regaining lost memories.

You read the words with disbelief.

Lucifer mentioned ways for you to regain your past life's memories, but you haven't thought about it at all.

Satan recognizes the note and looks troubled. "You see, I have been looking into this for quite a while now. I admit I have not yet found a way to make you remember just yet, but I'm certain I will be able to do it. I know an extremely powerful magician. He might be capable of helping me too." Satan has obviously invested much time on this. Many nights in the library, many hours searching for books. Obtaining many rare and forbidden books.

"I can understand why you would want me to recall my previous life, but it's not that easy." You fold your hands and twist them. You aren't sure if you would want that. It seems very frightening to you.

"I know it's not easy, but I will find a way. Just recently I acquired a book with the help of Lucifer. I feel like this will be a break, though. I mean it would be so great if you could get healed and could remember anything." Satan smiles at you. It's unsettling. Everything about this seems so wrong.

Your whole body is revolting against this. "Healing me? What are you even saying?"

Satan crooks his head, he is puzzled.

"You have amnesia, so it's only natural you require healing." Satan's face seems warped.

You slam your hands on the table, unsure why you even feel so uneasy or upset.

"I don't have amnesia. I was reborn as an angel."

Satan doesn't seem to comprehend. "Of course you are an angel. Your memories were erased when you became an angel. I merely want to get your human memories back for you."

"That is completely different from amnesia. MC DIED! I'M NOT MC!" You feel such frustration. You feel tears of anger welling up in you.

Satan seems genuinely surprised. "You don't know what you're talking about. They brainwashed you. They took everything from you."

You can't believe the words that escape Satan's mouth. Your mouth stands wide open. "That is nonsense, the angels gave my soul a new life as an angel. I'm not the same person." You don't know what to say to convince Satan.

Your words simply don't reach him.

Satan crocks his head. "I know you must be confused. They undoubtedly have done such terrible things to you, but your return to me is all the proof I need. I can bring you back." Satan sounds delusional.

You experience a sense of dread and stand up from the chair. When did he become like this?

"I should leave now." You slowly back away from Satan.

"Please MC you have to understand me. I want nothing but the best for you." Satan has lost it. It's equally tragic and scary.

You slowly take a few more steps backward. "I'm just very tired. I need rest." You look for a good excuse.

Was he always like this? No, he wasn't, your gut tells you that. Something inside him is broken.

Satan takes a step towards you. You hold your breath. You feel genuinely intimidated.

What will he do?

Satan casually grabs a note from the table. "You should read this. I'm certain everything will make sense once you read this." He seems to be convinced at least.

You grab the paper by shaking hands. "Yeah, I will…" You carefully and slowly step away from him.

"Get some rest now, MC," Satan murmurs the name but you still hear it.

You give him a fake and stiff smile and leave his room.

This was very intense.

You almost run back to your room, shaking. How far is Satan gone?

You feel like vomiting.

Then you run into something tall and warm. You look up and it's Beel.

"Oh, umm sorry Beel."

Beel smiles. "It happens are you in a rush?" Then he sees you are genuinely distressed. "What happened to you?"

"Well, Satan he is…" You are shaking, you aren't certain if you should tell Beel.

Beel's face stiffens, "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing really… he-he just…" Suddenly you feel tears on your cheeks. You aren't sure if you can even truly blame Satan for wanting you to remember, but he was just so unsettling.

"He wants you to remember about your previous life right?" Beel apparently knows. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry about Satan. He saw them die… It was the hardest on him. Come with me to my room. Belphie is also there and you are safe there. You can call Simeon." Beel is concerned for you.

You aren't certain, your relationship with Belphie is complicated.

"It's okay, Belphie is just upset that they sent you here. It has nothing to do with you as a person. He just didn't think he would ever see this body again. Should I say 'this body'? Sorry, I can't quite understand this." Beel seems very conflicted about this at all, but he looks out for you, and that alone means so much to you right now.

"I don't get it either, this whole rebirth thing is still new to me too." You let out a heavy breath.

"We will eventually understand it. I hope so at least." Beel tries at least.

Somehow he convinces you to go with him.

Belphie really is in the room, on the bed. He isn't sleeping. "Welcome back Beel… and welcome to you too…" He awkwardly greets you.

"Be nice, Belphie. They already have a hard time." Beel sternly tells Belphie off.

"I'm not a bully. I don't strike people that are on the ground." Belphie seems offended.

Their normal banter somehow causes you a feeling of relief. "Come sit down. Here, have some chocolate." Belphie awkwardly gets some chocolate out and hands it to you.

You sit down and silently eat the chocolate. Your tears have dried up at this point.

"Did anything happen?" Belphie is curious.

Beel looks at you, ready to explain it for you.

"Satan wants me to remember my previous life. That alone is not the issue, but he was just so… I can't really describe it…" You cast your eyes down.

"He is unhinged. I mean he works with Lucifer. I can understand where he is coming from, but that should be your decision, not ours." Belphie is extremely frustrated.

Beel places a cup of hot chocolate in front of you. "He is right, we all need to accept you are different now. Even when it's difficult. No matter what we feel. It's your life, and it's not as easy as Satan thinks it is." Beel says this very firmly.

"This is exactly why I didn't want any of this. You look like your previous incarnation. It just makes this all such a mess." Belphie sighs.

"Is that why you were so rude to me?" Suddenly it makes sense to you.

"I wouldn't say rude, I'd call it distant." Belphie looks away, probably pouting.

"Belphie, you were definitely disrespectful. It's not their fault. The angels messed this up. You need to give them a fair chance. Even if you don't like angels." Beel shakes his head.

You can tell he cares about you, regardless of his feelings.

"Easier said than done." Belphie huffs.

"First you should apologize to them. Just have a fresh start now where you don't have to lie any more it should be easier." Beel pushes Belphie just a little.

It's pretty impressive.

"Fine. I'm very sorry about being mean. I will be kinder." Belphie sounds a bit reluctant but you take it anyway.

"Thank you, Belphie, this means a lot to me." You give him a slight smile and take a sip of the hot chocolate.

"I will keep an eye on Satan, but you might want to stay with Simeon." Beel finds it difficult to admit this. His words genuinely touch you. He cares so much about his brothers, and yet he tells you to stay away from them.

"I hate admitting it, but Satan has lost it from grief. Levi was behaving shiftily, and I don't trust Lucifer anyway." Belphie sways his head. He seems very drained of this.

"We all have a hard time, but it's also very hard for you. We need to be better than this. This is what MC would have wanted." Beel has a pained expression.

"They must've been so special to all of you. I'm so sorry I caused you all of this grief. I probably should just go back to heaven." You feel extremely guilty.

"Don't say that. You would lose all of your memories from the devildom. That would be very sad, and I know MC would be happy to see you are such a good angel." Beel has a gentle smile.

Hearing this means so much to you, it's hard to put into words. “You're right. I have much to think about.”

Beel nods. “I'm here for you whenever you need me.” “I will try to be nice.” Belphie seems just a tad reluctant, but you can't fault him.

“Thank you both.” You feel good about having Beel in your corner, and at least Belphie seems to accept you are your own person.

"I will call Simeon now. Can I stay here until he picks me up?" You get your phone from your pocket.

"Naturally, you can stay here for as long as you want. Right, Belphie." Beel shoots Belphie a glance.

Belphie just shrugs. "Sure, you can even borrow my bed."

"That is very kind of you." It genuinely is a kind offer. This seems to get to Belphie. He shifts in his seat. "No problem." He says meekly.

You smile at this and call Simeon.

He picks up right away. "How are you? Is everything all right?" Simeon seems worried.

"It's kinda hard to explain over the phone but would it be possible for me to stay in your room?" You bite your lips.

"Absolutely, where are you? Are you safe right now?" Simeon agrees without hesitation.

"I'm safe, and am in Beel and Belphie's room right now." You feel immense relief.

"Stay where you are. I will come to get you." Simeon has mixed emotions, you can tell as much.

The call ends.

Beel looks at you. "Will he come?"

"Yes, he told me to wait here."

Beel almost seems a bit sad but swiftly recovers. "That's great."

Belphie meanwhile returns to sleep.

—-------------

The fact that Satan casually works with Lucifer alone is a massive red flag. Alongside the ocean of red flags that Satan is drowning in.

#obey me #angel in hell #obey me fanfiction #obey me!#obey me reader insert #omswd #tw: abusive behaviour

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mlovesstories · 4 years

Text

Assisting the Assistant

Tag List

Ask Box

Masterlist of Masterlists

Harley is Jensen’s assistant on the set of Supernatural. It wasn’t what she expected.

AN: Thanks to my amazing love @cherryblossomflowers for editing!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault

Words; 1600

Jensen x platonic reader

Jared x platonic reader

“So, what are you doing here, kid? How old are you?” Jensen asked in one of the production offices, interviewing for his set assistant.

“I don’t see why that matters, but I’m twenty. I feel like I can be of great help, and I have a few years experience in-“

“Do you know who I am?”

“A guy… needing an assistant?”

“You got the job. Welcome aboard,” he stood and shook her hand.

“Excuse me?” Harley gasped.

“You’re confident and not intimidated by a Hollywood actor, so to say.”

“Should I be?” She cocked her head to the side.

“No, but that’s the point.” Jensen smiled.

“Okay…”

“We start shooting the next episode tomorrow. Be here at 6am, kid.”

“You don’t know my name, do you?”

“You’re a kid, at least compared to me.” Jensen shrugged.

“Then I withdraw my application.” Harley snarled.

“Hey, wait!” Jensen chased after her in the office. “I’m sorry, it’s Harley, right?”

“Yeah, and I’m not a kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————-

“Morning, Mr. Ackles,” Harley caught up to Jensen as he exited the van dropping him off.

“Hi,” he smiled. “Follow me.” Jensen hastily walked toward his trailer. After they entered, he said, “take a seat.”

Harley slid onto the couch.

“Rules.”

“Woah- I’m not-”

“Stop being so defensive, kid,” Jensen laughed. “I’m not stuck up. Don’t wait on me hand and foot, and don’t follow me around like a puppy.”

“I can handle that,” she smiled.

“The PAs will get you settled. Go out and turn left. You’ll see the PA trailer.”

“Any other rules?” Harley looked to him.

“Plenty, but those can wait til later.” Jensen winked.

“Right…” Harley stood, unimpressed. “I’ll check in with you when I’m done,” she said matter-of-factly.

A few minutes later, Harley knocked on Jensen’s door. He opened it and she entered.

“You look official with your radio and clipboard,” he smiled. Harley offered a fake smile, not impressed. “What?”

“Nothing, Mr. Ackles. I’m just here to do a job that I’ve done before. I’m not new at this, and you don’t care about assistants.”

“Says who?”

“All the big stars don’t even do small talk with the staff. That’s just how it works in the industry.” Harley shrugged.

“Kid, I’m not like whoever you worked with before. Do your job and do it well, but ya gotta have fun too! Now that we got that out of the way, the PAs will give you the schedule for the day, it’s your job to make sure I show up at the right time. Can you do that?”

“Well, I can tell you, but it is really up to you whether you show up.” Harley grinned, joking.

“You’ll fit in just fine,” Jensen laughed.

Harley easily fit into the awesome that was Supernatural. This was the best set she had ever been on. Jensen talked to her and treated her with respect.

“Ackles! Makeup!” She yelled to him as she walked to the set from the wardrobe trailer.

“Stop bossing me around!” He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I refuse to get you gum if you don’t listen to me, Jensen!” Harley yelled back.

“FINE, you ass.” He playfully whined. Jensen turned and walked toward her and was about to pass her when she stopped him.

“Here, you earned it.” She gave him his favorite gum.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” he bowed.

“Oh, shut up,” Harley laughed. “Go!” She pushed him toward the trailer.

____________

“Harley,” Jensen nudged his assistant on set.

“Huh?” She snapped at his voice, clipboard almost dropping on his foot.

“Can you PLEASE,” he whined. “Get me a cup of coffee from that place down the street?”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes playfully at Jensen. “You’re due in Wardrobe in fifteen minutes, don’t forget.”

“Thank you,” he winked at her.

“Whatever, Winchester,” she laughed.

“I love you,” he thanked her.

“You better!” Harley yelled back as she walked away.

When she returned, she handed him and Jared each a cup of coffee.

“I get one too?” Jared looked at the cup in his hand. “Thanks, bud.”

“Jensen’s credit card paid for it, but your welcome,” Harley laughed.

“Hey!” Jensen gasped, ornery. “Next time take his card! Not fair!”

“Cool your jets, Jensen. You would have bought him coffee if you were getting it yourself anyway.”

“Hey, bud. What’s up with you?” Jared walked to Harley while Jensen was doing a scene.

“Huh?” She looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re… quiet.”

“I’m fine,” she gave him a short smile.

“If you say so.” He gave the expression back.

————

“Hey, Jensen,” Harley greeted him. As he exited the van, he noticed she backed away from him as he went in to give her a hug.

“You okay?”

“Yep! Sorry, a little jumpy today.” Taking her clipboard, she read off the schedule to him for the day. “Here are your sides.” Harley handed him a few stapled half-pages. She turned to walk with him toward his trailer when she gasped.

“What?” Jensen looked at her face.

“Umm. Forgot to unplug my curling iron. I’ll call my roommate if you don’t mind.”

“Uh. Sure.” He narrowed his eyes at her. He saw a large figure turn the corner of a trailer.

“Hey, Max. How ya doing?” Jensen shook the actor’s hand.

“Glad I got a few episodes out of this gig. It’s the least you people could do for me.”

Jensen froze the handshake and gave the man a serious face.

“Right,” Jensen let go of the man’s hand and told Harley to follow him. “See you on set, Max.”

��Yeah, sure,” Max scoffed.

“Ass.” Jensen whispered. Harley bit her lip. “Come on. Is Jared here yet?” Harley nodded her head. “Can you go get him for me? I need to go over some lines.” As he said that, rain started to fall, “and get in my trailer ASAP. I don’t need you all soaked or borrowing one of my sweatshirts.” He chuckled.

“You’re stupid.” Harley ran off to Jared’s trailer.

“Hey, Jared,” Harley knocked on his trailer. “Jensen said he wanted to talk to you. Runs lines or something.” He slowly grabbed a jacket. “Will you hurry? I’m getting wet!” Jared laughed.

“Okay, lets go.”

“I told you not to get wet,” Jensen groaned. “Here,” he tossed her a large sweatshirt that smelled like his cologne.

“Moose decided to be a slowpoke so I got rained on!” She ran into his trailer followed by Jared.

“Sorry!” The taller man hurried up the steps.

“Hey, you notice Max Green being a shithead?” Jensen sat down next to Harley. Jared sat across from them. “He was a jerk to me.”

“He seems like a stuck up tool to me. He’s been rude. Said that he’s so well-known, and he’s that way. So much for ‘we’re lucky to have him’” Jared huffed.

“Here,” Jensen handed Harley a cup of coffee.

“What?” She accepted it.

“You need it more than me. Get warm.” Jensen smiled.

“Aw. Thanks, Ackles.” She gratefully sipped the drink. .

————-

Jared saw Harley from across the lot.

“Hey, Harley!” He waved. Jared saw her wipe her fingers under her eyes. He walked up to her, no one else around.”what are you doing? You okay?”

“Bye, Harley!” The two turned to see Max Green leaving through a gate. With a smile and a nod, he walked to his car.

Jared saw her shutter.

“What happened? He hasn’t been that nice to anyone since he got here,” Jared chuckled.

When she didn’t respond, he dragged her by her sleeve to his trailer and left for a moment. “JACK!” He called for his friend.

Jensen threw open his trailer door.

“What, man? You’re ruining my-“ Jensen faked annoyance until he saw Jared’s face. “What?” He followed Jared back to the younger Winchester’s trailer.

Harley looked up when the two entered.

“What is going on?” Jensen looked at Harley, a serious, blank look on her face.

“She’s acting funny.” Jared answered. Harley wiped a hand over her face.

“I’m okay. Just got some news this morn-“

“Nah, that’s not it,” Jared stated. “She’s freaked out every time she is near Mr. Big Shot.”

“Max?” Jensen looked to Harley.

“Did Max have anything to do with you not acting like you?” Jared asked.

“No, just sad.”

“You’ve been with us for too long. Talk to us.” Jensen told her plainly. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really.” Harley whispered.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jared shot up out of his chair.

“No!” Harley shouted. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”

“You’re lying! I can tell!” Jensen growled. Harley burst into tears.

“He- he grabbed my ass and touched my-“ Harley fell over into her own lap, tears hitting her jeans. Jared ran out of the trailer, and he slammed the door. Jensen ran to her side and pulled her into him “no, I’m fine,” YN said. When she sat up, Jared bounded through the door.

“Security escorted him off the lot. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Thanks, Jared.” She stood and wrapped her skinny arms around his waist. Feeling his large body next to hers, she felt safe again.

Forever Friends (Everything):

@katymacsupernatural @unicornblood4ever @supernatural-crazed-girl

@fangirl-moment-x @empirialwolf @winchesters-favorite-girl @super100012

@percywinchester27 @waywardsuns @supernatural-jackles

@mcallmestiles @sdavid09 @kingandrear @bellero @skylarraker

@seality @jaycc7983 @luci-in-trenchcoats

@cherryblossomflowers @because-you-never-know-when

@sleepylunarwolf @choosemyname

@internationalmusicteacher

@encounterthepast @torn-and-frayed

@giggles1026 @xiumin-girl99

@mangueweaschester

@idksupernatural @silverstripe101a

@thevelvetseries @jennawinchester152a * @samsgirl93 * @supernatural3002 *

@tmiships4life * @breereadsthings * @mersuperwholocked-lowlife *

@a-magey @vicmc624 @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @beatifuldisaster018

@miraclesoflove @myopiamystical @fallen-wolf22

@waywardnewcomer

#Jensen Ackles #jensen x platonic reader #supernatural #supernaturalrpf #mlovesstoriesassistingtheassistant #mlovesstories

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fieryanmitsu · 4 years

Text

Worthy | A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 – Day 1 (Itaru/Izumi)

I AM SO LATE, but welcome to my first entry for the A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020!

This writing event is being hosted by @A3!_69min on Twitter and AO3 and focuses on writing romantic fics for unpopular A3! pairings. As it happens, every single Izumi pairing except Sakyo/Izumi is a rare pair per the event’s definition of rare pair.

SO, MY GOAL IS TO WRITE IZUMI SHIPS ALL WEEK!

Of course, I’m starting off with my OTP – I love ItaIzu so much, I’ll take any excuse to write them.

WORTHY

PROMPTS: Adoration / Jealousy

CHARACTERS: Itaru Chigasaki, Izumi Tachibana

PAIRINGS: Itaru/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

Izumi was curious.

The question had been on her mind all day since her conversation with Muku over breakfast. The middle schooler had been excitedly telling her all about the shojo manga he was currently reading. Apparently, he hadn’t slept well the night before because he had gotten worked up over the latest chapter.

“You’re staring a hole into my head,” her boyfriend remarked suddenly, though his eyes never left the television screen in front of him, his thumbs flying across his controller.

Itaru was playing some kind of action-adventure game and was currently exploring an underground dungeon with his character. Ever since she had mentioned that she liked the background music, he played this particular game whenever he had to wait for her to finish reviewing her post-rehearsal notes.

“Oh, sorry – I was just… curious about something. But, it’s a bit, er, awkward to ask about…” Izumi responded, one hand fidgeting with the pages of her notebook and the other absentmindedly poking the back of her pen into the Poyo – some pink, round mascot character that Itaru liked – cushion on her lap.

“Oh? Why don’t you try me?”

“Well… I was talking to Muku this morning about the shojo manga he’s reading. There was a scene where the rival character was confessing to the heroine. It was apparently a very heartfelt and passionate declaration of love. Something about how even seeing her with the other guy made his heart feel like it was being torn apart by knives. And that he hated seeing her cry because of that other guy and that he’d give up everything to whisk her away and make her happy. It ended with him asking the heroine to pick him instead.”

“Ahhh, yeah, that’s a classic. Never fails to stir up the fans,” Itaru responded with a knowing nod.

“And then, Muku gave me a 20-minute seminar on classic shojo jealousy scenes and, uh, well… They were more, um, thrilling than I expected? Sooooo, it kinda just, you know… made me wonder,” Izumi stiltedly blurted out. She couldn’t believe she was going to ask him this – her face was already flushed with embarrassment. Maybe Muku’s starry-eyed wonder was contagious. “Do you, umm… ever get jealous of seeing me with other guys?”

“Uh… I’m not sure how to tell you this, but you have twenty other guys, twenty-one if you count Kamekichi, hanging off you – sometimes literally – every single day. If I got jealous every time one of them sat next to you, I’d be six-feet under already.”

“Okay, yeah, that was dumb question – let me rephrase it!” Izumi backpedaled frantically. “What would you do if someone else confessed their love to me – like they were trying to steal me away? Would you be jealous? Would you fly into a blind rage? Or pin me against a wall and forcefully kiss me?! Or barge in and passionately declare: ‘Choose me, not him’?!”

“Man, you really are starting to sound like Muku – all of those options sound awful, by the way. But, in all seriousness, I, uh… don’t think that would ever happen,” he responded with a nervous chuckle.

Izumi felt herself deflate a bit, unable to help feeling just a teensy bit disappointed that he had shot down her fantasies so quickly. At the same time, she wasn’t sure that she could even imagine him acting that way. She just felt like… it wouldn’t be Itaru anymore – and that thought also made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe this whole jealousy thing wasn’t as exciting as she had thought it would be a few minutes ago.

As her thoughts came full circle, she suddenly heard an odd sound from the television. She had been watching Itaru play this game for a few days now and recognized the sounds his character made when he was dying. Thinking that he was losing against a boss, Izumi glanced at the screen and saw that he was just fighting a bunch of normal enemies. She noted that the usual boss music wasn’t playing, either. Yet, his health bar was slowly, but surely, depleting.

Thinking it was strange for him to be playing so badly, Izumi shifted her attention from the television screen to look at Itaru. What she saw made the blood in her veins turn to ice. Unceremoniously throwing her notebook and poor Poyo to the floor, she practically hurled her body across the empty space between them.

Itaru had taught her the basics of how to use his GameStation when she had borrowed a Blu-ray movie from a friend, and she knew that, if she pressed the middle button on his controller, it would bring the user back to the home screen. Reaching over his arm, she pushed down on the middle button and a blue screen immediately popped up, effectively pausing the game. Gently prying the controller away from Itaru’s limp hands, she set it down on his coffee table before she turned off the television screen.

“Itaru, what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly, placing a hand on one of his arms and squeezing it gently.

The salaryman’s brow was furrowed, and he kept his face averted from hers, gaze trained on the floor. Even from his profile, she could see that his mouth was set in a firm and tight line. It had been a long time since she’d seen him make this expression.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” he responded after a long pause.

Izumi could feel her stomach drop. She had heard those words before – it had been right before her last breakup. She had thought things were going well between them, but maybe she was wrong…?

“Why don’t you try me?” she prompted, trying to keep her voice light as she imitated his words from earlier.

At the same time, she did her best to brace her heart, despite that it was starting to beat erratically. Whatever he said, she would graciously accept it – telling herself that she couldn’t afford to have things be awkward between them.

“Getting jealous over someone… it only happens when you don’t want them taken away from you, right?” Itaru said slowly, deliberately. “So… I don’t think I could ever be jealous… because… I… I don’t feel that way.”

Izumi couldn’t have possibly braced hard enough for that kind of impact. She could feel a hot feeling well up in her throat and tears were already prickling at the back of her eyes.

“Does… Does that mean you don’t want to be with me, anymore?” she asked, unable to help the waver in her voice.

Her question hung in the air unanswered as she watched him clench and unclench his hands on his lap, his eyes still stuck on the floor.

“Itaru, will you look at me? Please?” she begged. She was starting to feel light-headed and she just… She just needed to ground herself somehow.

After a long moment, he shifted his position to angle himself towards her on the couch, though his eyes remained downcast.

Izumi gently cupped his face in her hands and lifted his head to level with her own. She could feel his jaw clenched beneath her palms.

“Itaru, talk to me,” she coaxed gently, fighting to keep her voice steady. “What did you mean earlier?”

Though he didn’t move her hands away, he continued to avert his eyes.

“I… I can’t be jealous,” he began quietly. “Because… if someone else confessed to you, it’d be better that way. I’d be happy.”

“Why would you say that?” Izumi demanded, her tone coming out harsher than she had intended. She inhaled deeply to try and calm herself, though her brain was still rattled by his words. “Weren’t you the one who confessed to me first, Itaru? You asked me to give you a chance, so why would you think that way?”

A long moment passed between them in silence, but Izumi could see Itaru’s emotions warring on his face. She didn’t dare breathe until he finally opened his mouth again.

“Sometimes… I think it was a mistake that I asked you out,” he said quietly, his voice cracking as he continued on. “The more time I spend with you… the more I think about how… how you deserve someone better than me.”

Suddenly, she felt a wet sensation tickle against her fingers. As tears fell from his magenta-coloured eyes, Izumi was struck by several emotions.

The first was awe. For the first time, she understood what it meant when people said that there were beautiful criers. Though she knew that it was morbid, at that moment, she truly thought that Itaru was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, even as tears blotted his cheeks and turned his eyes red.

The second was sorrow. She felt unspeakable sadness that this person before her had struggled through so much in his life that he felt unworthy of being with someone he professed to love and thought that she would be better off without him.

Anger was the third. She was angry at herself for being unable to reassure him, to stop him from feeling this way despite the amount of time they had already spent together.

Last of all, she felt a surge of… something. She had only been in a couple of casual relationships before, and none of them as passionate as the one she had experienced with Itaru in the past half a year. Nor were any of them as comfortable as what she felt when she was with him. Spending time with Itaru both calmed her and brought butterflies to her stomach. Never in her life had she felt like she mattered as much as she did than when this man looked at her.

Was this love? She didn’t know, since she had no landmark to compare it against. But, what she was sure of was that she didn’t want to see Itaru look this way. She wanted to see him with his usual crooked smirk, just like the one he always gave when he teased her. She wanted to see his eyes crinkle like they did when he won a game. She wanted to see a smile on his face – like the one that bloomed across his face whenever the curtains fell after a successful Spring Troupe performance.

She didn’t know when it had started, but she was crying as well.

“Itaru,” she started, ignoring the salty taste in her mouth as her tears rolled past her lips, turning his face in an attempt to meet his gaze. “You… You don’t mean that, do you.”

“I do,” he said firmly, still refusing to look her in the eye. Instead, he took her hands in his and removed it from his face – but rather than letting them go, his fingers squeezed hers tightly.

“No, you don’t,” she replied just as forcefully, finding her footing again as her heart resolved itself. “Because if you did, then you wouldn’t look so torn right now. Your hands wouldn’t be shaking. If you would truly be happy to have someone take me away from you, then you wouldn’t have been dying against enemies that you can usually beat in your sleep.”

Itaru closed his eyes, as if he were wincing in pain.

“Itaru, please. Don’t push me away.”

A fresh stream of tears rolled down his face as he let out a rasping breath, shoulders shaking.

“Did you know, the look on your face just now was so similar to when you told me you wanted to quit the troupe? You couldn’t look at me when I asked you to admit that you weren’t interested in theatre – that you didn’t care about performing with the others,” she said softly, using her thumb to wipe away the tears streaking his face.

As a quiet sob tore its way out of Itaru’s throat, he leaned forward and buried his head against her shoulder, quickly soaking the material of her shirt. Letting her own tears fall, she lightly ran her fingers through his hair.

“I… I want… to be with you… I want to feel worthy of you,” he gasped out in between sobs.

“Itaru, I’m not some deity on a pedestal. I’m just a regular person, like you. You don’t have to be worthy of anything to be with me,” she replied.

She felt him shake his head against her shoulder, his hair tickling against her chin.

“If you still think that way, then… then let me tell you what I told you once before. Give yourself a little more time,” Izumi said, wrapping her arms around him, and nuzzling her face into his hair. “You owe it to yourself to keep trying. And… it’s not all on you. I’ll keep trying, too. I want to be a person that’s worthy of your efforts.”

Then, after a long moment cradled in her arms, Itaru slowly lifted his head and finally allowed his red-rimmed eyes to meet hers, a small, lop-sided smile sneaking its way onto his lips.

“Well… then I hope you’re ready to accept responsibility for your actions again.”

“Of course!”

I had hoped to put this out on the actual first day of this week, but I kept rewriting it because I wasn’t satisfied with it. Even now, I’m not completely pleased with the finished product, but, I honestly don’t know how long it would take me to finish writing if I kept mulling over it! So, I decided to finally just settle with this version and post it and not look back!!

In the end, I still got my central point across: which is that I wanted to write about how and why someone doesn’t feel jealous in a romantic relationship. And, so, this happened, haha. But, I didn’t want a sad ending, so I ended up on a hopeful note.

Anyway, I APPARENTLY ONLY WRITE ITAIZU ANGST. I’m so sorry, Itaru – I’ll do you right next time!! No, really, HAHA. My entry for Day 2 (which will hopefully get written out in the next couple of days) is another ItaIzu and it’s NOT sad, I promise. In fact, it’s just PWP, LOLOL.

If you liked my first entry, please do stick around for my other pieces for “A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020”! After my ItaIzu for Day 2, I’ll be moving on to other Izumi pairings. It’s a secret for now which pairings will all be covered in the end, but I’m here to spread the Izumi love!!

Thank you for reading and please do leave a comment letting me know what you think! Any reblogs are always greatly appreciated and would really help me out!

I hope to see you again! Bye for now!

-Anmitsu

#a3!#act! addict! actors!#itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #itaru x izumi #chigasaki itaru #tachibana izumi #a3! game #a3! act! addict! actors!#act addict actors #a3! actor training game #itaru chigasaki x izumi tachibana #a3! itaru #a3! izumi #a3! rare pairs week 2020 #anmitsu writes

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expectingtofly · 4 years

Text

SPN Stay At Home Challenge

Week 6: Jealous

Picking up right where Season 15 Episode 13 left off...Dean is forced to spend more time with his alternate universe self and gets a little jealous of how well his douche self and his boyfriend/husband Castiel get along.

Words: ~3k

Rating: Teen And Up

Read on AO3

Thanks to @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge :)

In All The Universes

His and Sam’s alternate universe selves were supposed to be on a plane to Brazil right now. Instead, here they are, standing in the bunker once again. Their car, that disgusting small, green joke of a thing, had broken down on their way to the airport and they had trekked back to the bunker because, as Man-Bun Sam had said when Dean opened the bunker door and immediately started to shut it again, “You’re the only people we know and, besides, our cell phones don’t work in this world.”

“We’ll call them an Uber,” Dean says now, watching his other world preppy self and Man-Bun Sam try to get their phones to work.

“They’ve missed their plane by now,” Castiel argues.

Sam shuts his laptop. “There. I booked them seats on a flight tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Dean says, “So let’s get them a hotel room and,” he lowers his voice, “get them the fuck out of here.” Even just looking at his other world self creeps him out. It’s him, but not him, some ultra douchey version of himself.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” Preppy Dean speaks up. Dean turns to look at him. “We can stay here for the night.”

“If it’s no bother,” Man-Bun Sam says in that pretentious voice of his.

“We do have extra rooms,” Castiel points out. Dean glares at him.

Sam stands. “Right. Yeah, okay. You guys can stay the night.”

“Really?” Dean says. “You too?” Sam shrugs and tells Other World Sam and Dean he’ll show them what rooms they can stay in.

Castiel goes to follow them and Dean grabs his arm. “Those sons of bitches drove Baby,” he says. “Drove her!”

Castiel sighs. “Dean, I know how much the Impala means to you, but they didn’t know.”

“If they touch her again, I will kill them.”

“Fine, I’ll warn them. Though I’m sure you’ve scared them enough already.”

Dean lets go of Castiel. “Damn right they should be scared.” Castiel rolls his eyes.

***

“You guys sure have a lot of books in here,” Preppy Dean says as he and Man-Bun Sam walk into the library. Dean looks up from his laptop where he’s researching new cases, desperately searching for something, anything, to give him an excuse to leave the bunker. So goddamn nosy, he thinks, watching Preppy Dean poke at the books on the shelves. Man-Bun Sam holds his scarf over his nose and runs his finger over a shelf, frowning at the dust.

“You can read them if you want,” Sam says, sitting down next to Dean. Dean points to his laptop screen. “Man Drowns in Bathtub,” the headline reads. Sam shakes his head.

“You actually read these tomes?” Scarf Sam asks, gingerly pulling one from a shelf. He opens it, letting out a cloud of dust, and sneezes.

“Umm, yes,” Sam says. “To research cases.”

“We have secretaries who do our research for us.” Scarf Sam pulls out a handkerchief and blows his nose loudly.

“You have—?” Sam cuts himself off and shakes his head. Dean points to another news story: "Woman Believes Vacuum Cleaner is Possessed." Sam sighs. "Dean, no."

"Could be something," Dean mutters.

“Ooh, is this a real sword?” Nosy Dean asks, walking up to the long, curved sword on a stand by the bookshelves. Dean fights back a smile. Maybe his nosy-ness is good for one thing.

“It’s very sharp,” Castiel says before Nosy Dean can touch the blade. Dean turns around to see Castiel and Jack standing in the doorway. Don’t tell him! he mouths and Castiel frowns.

“Oh, I see.” Nosy Dean pulls his hand away from the sword and stares at Jack for a long moment. Then he looks away and studies the other artifacts in the room.

Jack sits next to Sam and Dean and Sam smiles at him. They’d had a long crying fest earlier when Jack had been processing the whole “having a soul again” thing. Lots of I-forgive-yous, hugs—Dean’s glad it’s all over and that Jack looks much happier now.

Nosy Dean gestures to Castiel. “Nice trench coat, by the way. Is that the current style, or whatever, in this world? Besides, I’m guessing,” he glances at Sam and Dean, “flannels?”

“Thank you.” Castiel smiles and looks down at his clothes. “But, no, I don’t know—”

“It’s not,” Dean says. “It’s his trademark look.” He stares his other world self down.

“Alright,” Sam says, looking back and forth between them. “So...Sam. Do you two work a lot of cases in your world?”

“Or do you have a troop of hunters who punch in every morning and do the work for you?” Dean asks. He ignores Sam giving him the evil eye.

“We do have quite a few hunters working for us,” Scarf Sam says. “Angels too.”

“The angels help you?” Castiel asks.

“I mean, some of them are dicks,” Preppy Dean says. “No offense, Cas.”

Dean blinks. Cas? Since when did they start using nicknames?

Preppy Dean continues, “But we’ve reached an agreement with the angels. And Sam and I take cases when our father allows us.”

“When Dad allows—wait, he doesn’t force you to go hunting?” Sam asks.

“No, why would he?” Scarf Sam asks.

Jack pipes up. “Sam and Dean’s dad made them hunt monsters when they were kids. They lived in a lot of motels. Do you guys live in motels?”

“What’s a motel?” Scarf Sam asks. Sam stares at him.

“They have a lot of repressed emotions from their childhood,” Castiel says to Preppy Dean. Kill me now, Chuck, kill me, Dean pleads.

“Clearly.” Preppy Dean sits next to Dean and Dean startles. “So do you work for Sam and Dean?” he asks Castiel. Sam laughs and Dean shoots him a look.

“No,” Castiel begins and Dean has suddenly had enough.

He slams his laptop shut—of course all the monsters take a day off when he needs them the most—and stands. “I’m going to make dinner,” he announces to no one in particular and storms off to the kitchen.

***

Dean sets a stack of plates down hard on the island in the kitchen and turns back to the burgers on the grill he had insisted they buy soon after he and Sam moved into the bunker. Apparently the Men of Letters couldn’t bother installing one alongside all the other useless contraptions and junk in this place.

At the sound of footsteps, he turns and sees his douche self walking into the kitchen. Swearing under his breath, he turns back to the grill, then spins back around to look at Douche Dean again. He’d switched out his jacket for...Dean peers closer. One of his flannels?

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demands.

“Castiel said I could borrow your clothes.” Douche Dean fingers the edge of the sleeve at his wrist. “Very comfy. I can see why you wear these.”

There are about a million things Dean wants to say but he can’t figure out a scenario that doesn’t end without Other World Dean and Sam kicked out on the street and his world Sam and Castiel very pissed off at him.

Gripping his spatula, he turns back to the grill and stares down at the browning burgers.

Douche Dean walks over to his side. “I have a question,” he says.

Why am I such an idiot in another universe? Dean thinks. What did I ever do to piss off God? Plenty, he decides.

“So Cas said you and him are dating, or whatever.” Dean rolls his eyes. “In our world, the angels stay up in heaven unless we need their help.” Fascinating, Dean thinks. Please shut up. “Did Castiel rescue you from hell in this world too?”

Dean frowns and looks at him. “You have a Castiel in your world?”

Douche Dean nods, then adds hastily, “He’s not like your Castiel, though. He wears a black overcoat, for one.”

“Sounds like he’s one of the dick angels then.” Dean flips a burger.

“Yeah, well, at times, but he’s one of the good ones.” He falls silent.

Dean glances at Douche Dean. He hadn’t thought to wonder what Castiel would be like in another universe. It seems strange to imagine a scenario where Castiel rescues him from hell and they don’t fall for each other. Another reason why this whole alternate universe mess is all wrong.

Douche Dean shifts. “Hey, I was looking through the records in your room,” he says. Dean tenses. “I didn’t see a single Beethoven—”

“Out.” Dean points his spatula at the door. “Now.”

Nosy Dean hastily leaves the kitchen, bumping into Castiel in the doorway as he flees.

Castiel looks at him, then back at Dean. “Can’t you try to be nice?” he asks, coming to Dean’s side. “Or at least not actively threatening?”

“My clothes? Really?”

“It’s a shirt you never wear. It’s been in the back of your closet for years.”

“Okay, one, creepy that you know that. Two,” he gestures in the direction Nosy Dean bolted, “it’s him, my annoying clone or whatever, wearing it.”

Castiel raises his hands. “Alright, sorry. I should’ve asked.” He steps forward and wraps his arms around Dean, hugging him from behind. “If it makes you feel better, I made Sam share his clothes too,” he says, his voice muffled in Dean’s shirt.

“First Baby, then staying the night, now wearing our clothes,” Dean mutters. “Asking all these damn questions, touching all our stuff. ‘Nice trench coat, Cas’,” he says mockingly, realizing belatedly that he’s mocking his own voice.

Castiel pulls away from him. “Dean.” He looks at him, tilting his head. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” Dean looks at him. “No! Jealous? Of that stuck-up, spoiled son of a bitch?” He tosses a burger onto a plate. “No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Alright,” Castiel says slowly. “But Dean—”

“I’m not jealous.” Dean thrusts a plate at him. “Help me carry these. If these assholes eat this shit anyway.”

***

“I don’t like tomatoes,” Jack says, lifting up the top bun of the burger Dean plunks down in front of him.

“I thought everything tasted like molecules to you.” Dean slides two plates over to his and Sam’s other world counterparts. Scarf Sam wrinkles his nose but Flannel-Stealer Dean grabs the plate eagerly.

“Yeah,” Jack says, picking the tomato slice off his burger. “But some molecules taste weird.”

“I think I’ll just have the salad,” Scarf Sam says. He’s lost the scarf and is wearing one of Sam’s shirts, but it only makes his hair look more ridiculous. He pushes his plate back and grabs the bowl full of lettuce Dean has begrudgingly brought over for Sam.

“Well you two are alike,” Dean says, sitting down next to Sam and handing him his plate with the fake, veggie burger hippy nonsense he insists on eating.

“I’m not like that,” Sam protests. He takes the salad bowl as Almost-Sam passes it to him. “I just think we can all stand to eat some vegetables.”

“Salad molecules also taste weird,” Jack says.

“Now that’s true,” Dean says. Sam gives him a look and he rolls his eyes. “But we’re going to eat it anyway because Sam insists.”

“Fine,” Jack sighs, taking the salad bowl from Sam.

“You eat too?” Flannel-Stealer Dean asks Castiel.

Castiel looks down at the plate in front of him. “Not really, but Dean always makes me a serving so he can eat a second portion with the excuse of not wasting food.”

“No,” Dean protests. “I make you food so you don’t feel like a weirdo being the only one without a plate.” Castiel smiles and Dean feels a small satisfaction at amusing him.

The bunker’s lights hum as they eat silently. Dean finishes his burger and Castiel pushes his plate over to him.

“Is there a version of me in your world?” Jack asks Other World Sam and Dean.

They look at each other. “No,” Almost-Sam says slowly. “We killed your counterpart before he was born.”

“You killed him?” Castiel asks, leaning forward.

“Well, he was a threat. He was Lucifer’s child.”

“Does he look like a threat to you?” Castiel asks, pointing at Jack.

Everyone stares at Jack and Jack pauses in licking ketchup off his finger. He stares back at them, seeming uncomfortable. “It’s alright,” he says.

“No, it’s not—” Castiel starts.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, putting a hand on his arm. Castiel glances at him and Dean remembers, painfully, how he himself had once been so determined to kill Jack, had nearly done so on multiple occasions. And locking Jack in the Ma’lak box...he’d feared Castiel would never forgive him for doing something so horrible.

“It does appear that Jack is not the threat we thought he would be,” Almost-Sam says. “Maybe we made a mistake killing Lucifer’s son in our world.” He glances at Flannel-Stealer Dean and Dean realizes his body double has been quiet this whole time.

Not-Dean stares down at his plate, then pushes back his chair. He leaves the room without a word.

“What’s his problem?” Dean asks, watching him leave.

“The decision to kill Lucifer’s son wasn’t unanimous,” Almost-Sam says. “Our Castiel was very opposed to it.” He looks at Dean and Castiel. “In our world, Dean and Cas don’t have what you two have. I always thought they might one day, but they’re both very stubborn.”

“Sounds familiar,” Sam mutters. Dean glares at him.

“But killing Lucifer’s son...Castiel can’t forgive Dean for it. Not that Dean’s been apologetic. And now that our world and Cas seem to be gone…” Almost-Sam looks at the doorway through which Not-Dean left. “I think Dean regrets how things ended between him and Cas.” He pushes back his chair. “Umm, if you’ll excuse me.” He leaves after his brother.

Dean stares at the table, feeling like a dick for how he’d treated Not-Dean. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but...it’s bad enough imagining losing Castiel forever, but to lose him like that? Well, he doesn’t have to imagine. He’s lost Castiel plenty of times, thankfully never permanently, and it’s been hell every time. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even his rich, douchey self from another world.

“Well…” Jack says. “That got awkward.”

“Yeah.” Sam shifts in his chair. “Sorry you had to hear that, Jack, about yourself in the other world.”

“I’m alive in this universe though,” Jack says. He smiles at them and Castiel nods.

“Right,” Dean says and tries to smile.

***

Lying in bed that night, Dean can’t shake what Almost-Sam told them. It scares him, how close he’s come to being in Idiot Dean’s shoes. Maybe he’s a lot more like Idiot Dean than he thought.

Castiel lays pressed up against his back, his arm around him. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever told Castiel how much he loves it that he goes “to sleep” with him despite not sleeping at all. He touches Castiel’s hand.

“You know I love you, right?” he asks.

“Of course.” Castiel shifts and Dean rolls over to look in his eyes. “I love you too,” Castiel says.

“Do you ever wonder...I don’t know. I mean with Jack and all. What if I had—”

“Whatever could have happened, didn’t,” Castiel says. “In this universe, we chose each other. That’s all that matters.” He kisses Dean, then snuggles up next to him and Dean smiles. Another thing he loves about Castiel: he says such sappy things so sincerely that it makes Dean want to say them too.

“I would choose you in every universe,” he says.

***

“This will be our first time flying commercial,” Now-Ponytail Sam says, looking at the flight ticket Sam hands him. He tries to look excited. “What an adventure.”

They stand in the drop-off area outside the airport and Dean pulls Ponytail Sam’s suitcase out of the Impala’s trunk. “What the fuck do you have in here?” he asks.

Ponytail Sam starts to say something about taking care of his hair and Dean cuts him off. “Actually, I don’t care.” He shuts the trunk and everyone stares at each other.

“Well, thanks for letting us stay the night,” Now-Wearing-A-Sweater Dean says. He looks at Jack. “It was nice to meet you. You too,” he adds, looking at Castiel. Castiel nods.

“Listen,” Sam says. “We’re going to try to get you your world back. You two belong there.”

“We appreciate that,” Ponytail Sam says. He and Sweater Dean grab their luggage and Castiel, Sam, and Jack get back in the Impala.

Dean hesitates. “Hey, Dean,” he says. His other world self looks back at him. “Cas—my Cas—has put up with a lot of shit from me, forgiven me more times than I can count...Maybe your Cas will too?”

Sweater Dean stares at him for a moment, then nods. He smiles a little and extends his hand. “Thanks, Dean.”

Dean shakes his hand and it doesn’t seem as strange as he would’ve expected.

He gets into the Impala and watches Other World Sam and Dean head to the airport doors.

“I hate flying,” Sweater Dean says, following Ponytail Sam. “Can’t we rent a car?”

“No, hurry up.” Ponytail Sam lugs his suitcase to the revolving doors. “I want to try to upgrade to first class.”

“I really hate that guy,” Sam says, watching them. Dean shakes his head, smiling despite himself.

“For the record, Dean,” Castiel says, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the seatback next to Dean. “There was no reason to be jealous.” Dean looks at him through the rearview mirror. “That Dean has nothing on you.”

“Alright! That’s enough of that,” Sam says. Jack laughs and Castiel smiles at Dean.

Dean smiles back and starts Baby. They pull out of the airport and he glances at Castiel again in the rearview mirror. It’s a nice thought, that he and Castiel are in love in other universes too. He likes to think that’s true in all of them.

Tagging: @spnwaywardone

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my destiel fics!

#supernatural #spnstayathome #ficlet #fluff #au sam and dean #deancas #i never write short fics #so it was nice to write something silly and sappy #and no angst!#expectingtoflywrites

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kyouxa · 5 years

Text

Diabolik lovers Lunatic Parade: Shu Sakamaki (Chapter 3)

Can I get a massage too?(๑•́ω•̀) Honestly, if anyone still has someone they want me to translate from Lunatic Parade in the future please type an anon ask and I will definitely see it! **Disclaimer: だるい = Darui (I wrote 『bothersome』 instead of it’s actual meaning “dull or sluggish” because I felt like it sounded more like Shu so please don’t yeet at me, thanks)

Monologue

"Healing Rigel-sama who lost his love and closed his heart''

The mission of preparing a party for him began.

I want to make a place where he can remember the good memories of himself and his wife.

I want to do whatever I can do to make exactly that happen—

Place: Hotel Mondstein — Guest room

Yui: (First of all, we somehow have to find the perfect venue)

Shu-san.

Where do you think would be a good place for Rigel-sama to remember his time with his wife?

Shu: Oh... what about the gondola station?

Yui: The gondola station... really... ?

Shu: If the information from the familiar are correct, then Rigel and his wife met each other there.

It seems that it had happened during the parade.

If you want to bring him to a place of good memories, I think this would good timing.

Yui: That’s right... ! I will talk to the owner right away. Please wait here!

Shu: ...Hey, wait a moment.

*Shu comes closer*

Shu: Are you really going alone?

Yui: Oh, umm... I don‘t want Shu-san to move for me because I know it’s bothersome for you...

Shu: Oh, I might change my mind. It‘s bothersome.

But... I‘ll go.

Yui: Is that okay for you?

Shu: Yes. Let’s go before I change my mind again.

Place: Demon world — Gondola landing

Yui: (The Illumination is reflected on the surface of the water and it sparkles... how beautiful)

If they really met in such a place, it will surely be a good memory for him.

Shu: — It would be bad if he’d remember something he didn’t want to.

You were the one who was scared of me at the beginning as well.

Yui: T-That was... Yes, that’s actually right...

But all of those things turned out to be good memories for me now.

Shu: Well... that’s fine for me... haha

— Now

If you want this as the party venue, you should talk the Gondolier in the back for permission.

Yui: Yes, understood!

(Okay, let‘s go and ask him)

Place: Demon world — Rubin canal

Gondolier B: Welcome! Are the two people of you goin‘ on a ride?

Yui: Oh... um...

I'm sorry we don’t, in fact, we came here because there was something we wanted to ask you.

Gondolier B: Ask me... ?

Yui: Yup.

Actually, we are planing on throwing a party...

And I would like to borrow this place as the venue for it.

Gondolier B: Heh!? You want to throw a party here!?

Yui: Yes. It really needs to be this certain place.

Gondolier B: Even if you say that. There are many customers durin‘ the parade and it’s my time to earn money.

Yup, that is the point, that’s why I can’t reply easily to you.

Yui: Th-That‘s right...

(No matter how much I beg it probably still will be unreasonable, right?)

(But there is no better place for us to hold the party for Rigel-sama than here...)

Gondolier B: It’s bad, but I’m busy today. Come early tomorr-

Shu: ....*yawns*

Gondolier B: ..... ! Y-You are... Karlheinz-sama's...

Whaat! You should have said it way earlier.

Okay, you can hold the party on the gondola and do anything. I’ll excuse my bad and awkward behavior.

That’s why... you should tell your father from me.

Shu: Well, if I feel like it.

Yui: (... W-Wow... it was really as I expected)

Place: Demon world — Gondola landing

Shu: Haa... I was able to secure this place.

Now, what’s next?

Yui: Umm...

The next thing should be necessary as well which contains food and drinks.

I'm mainly wondering if I can ask someone from the hotel ...

But I‘d like to arrange a special dish that he maybe ate with his wife in the past.

Shu: There certainly were informations from the familiar that they both liked sweet things.

Yui: Yes. I really liked the store "Garette de Loire" in the human world...

Why aren’t we going to a sweetshop in the Demon world that makes the same?

Shu: ... I don’t mind it, so let’s go.

Yui: (Fufu, I’m glad that you’re coming with me properly while saying something like that)

Place: Demon world — Zafia confectionery store

Vampire woman A: Wow, it looks delicious! As expected from the Makai-no saffir candy store!

Vampire woman B: It’s really hard to move to a different flavor from one day to another day. I honestly want to eat them all ...

Vampire man C: If this is what we all are thinking about, I‘ll pick everything from the left side today.

Yui: (Wow... it‘s very crowded... just moving around is already difficult...)

Shu: .....

You were the one wanting to come here. I am... sleeping over there.

*Shu leaves*

Yui: (Nn... he is just hiding himself in the eat-in corner...)

(I know that it surely is painful to get through this crowd)

(But I‘d like to talk to the shop staff as soon as possible...)

???: There! Look at this, look at this! The cake will be passing through!

Vampire woman A: Ah, the Manager! This smell... oh it’s really unbearable!

Yui: (That’s the store manager! Alright, let’s try talking a little... !)

Oh, uhm! I‘m sorry!

Confectionery restaurant manager: Hmm? What’s the matter? I'm currently really in a hurry, come back later!

Yui: Please wait, just a little! I have some sweets that I want to order on the last day of the parade ...

Confectionery restaurant manager: Order on the last day? That’s impossible! I'm particularly busy now and now you ask me to borrow my hand!

Ahh I’m super busy! Busy! I‘m drowning in work already!

Yui: (Such...)

I-If thats so...

Please let me help you! I-I will do my best!

Confectionery restaurant manager: That’s impossible! That’s indeed impossible.

*More costumers come in*

Confectionery restaurant manager: You! If you ask for help, please do so!

It’s okay even if I think about the previous case!

Yui: Huh? Y-Yes! Understood!

(I‘ll try my best to help out!)

Vampire woman D: From this cake, I‘d like to have three more slices.

Yui: Y-Yes!

Vampire woman E: Hold on! I was lined up first! First of all, give me four of these!

Yui: (That‘s hard! I‘m already busy now... !)

Shu: .....

*yawns* ...

Yui: (Oh... Shu-san seems to have woken up)

Shu: ... Just what are you doing?

Yui: As you can see, I’m helping out in this store.

Vampire woman A: The clerk there! Stop talking!

Yui: Aye!

(Agh!? The tableware got broken!)

Shu: Need help? With this?

Yui: (Uhh... I first of all I need to clean that up!)

Shu: Oh my... you really need help ...

Yui: (Hm, where did Shu-san go... ?)

Vampire woman A: Uhh, I'd like to have one pie with a modest sweetness if possible ...

Which one is better ...

Shu: ... How about this one here? The sugar is modest and the sweetness of the fruits stands out.

Vampire woman A: Oh, so you know about it.

Yui: (Wow...)

Vampire woman A: Yeah okay... I'll get this one which was recommended.

Shu: Thanks

Well... that’s how it should be.

Yui: That was amazing Shu-san! The customer was also overjoyed!

Shu: I would say, I‘ll do this never agai—

*More costumers arrive*

Vampire woman B: I heard that there is a shop assistants here who is familiar with cakes?

Vampire woman C: Could I maybe have a recommendation as well~?

Vampire woman B: Perhaps are you the managers brother!?

Vampire woman E: It‘s officially decided!

Yui: (Uhh... they really like it)

Shu: .....

To go back to sleep... I can just dream about it.

Yui: (Fufu...)

*time passed*

Confectionery restaurant manager: Yeehaw! Thank you very much for today! You two were great help!

I really need to show my appreciation...

Let me hear the story of the candy that you wanted me to make.

Yui: I-Is that okay?

Confectionery restaurant manager: Sure!

Whether it's the last day of the parade or not, as the store manager, I'll promise to do it!

Yui: (I did it!)

Confectionery restaurant manager: So? What kind of candy is it?

Yui: Uhh—

*time passed*

Confectionery restaurant manager: Then I will think of something special to make it for you.

Look forward to see it on the last day of the parade.

Yui: Thank you!

Place: Demon world — Glimmer Main Street

Yui: We did it thanks to you Shu-san. Thank you very much.

Shu: It was only because of my hard work... Haa...

— So? What’s the next thing? The preparations are not over yet, right?

Yui: Um, what about the gondola decoration?

I really want to decorate it nicely for him.

Shu: Then ... I think the "Reine • de • Azi" store is good.

Yui: "Reine • de • Azi"... ?

Shu: You will understand once we go there. Follow me.

Yui: (..... ?)

Place: Demon world — Reine • de • Aji store

Yui: (Wow! There are lots of beautiful ornaments ...!)

(I cant even decide what to pick)

What kind of decoration do you think would look good?

Shu: There’s no matter what you pick. There is no particular commitment anyway.

But, rather than the decoration I’d like to—

Yui: (Oh... there’s an old antique violin laying there)

*Shu plays some tones*

Shu: I think music would be more important for the party.

Yui: That may be true

Oh ... I know we got a lot to do, but what about Shu-san playing something?

Shu: No. It‘s bothersome.

Yui: (Ah, I thought that he would say that ...)

... But I really want to hear Shu-san’s violin skills after a long time.

Shu: .....

Yui: Is that a no?

Shu: Haa... maybe just a little

.....

*Shu starts playing*

Yui: (Those really are beautiful tones...)

*someone comes closer*

Shu: ...Who?

???: .....

Shu: Aji, is that you?

Yui: (So you mean, this is Aji?)

Reine • de • Aji: ...What is the eldest son of the Sakamaki family doing in such a place?

Shu: There is no need to explain myself. It doesn’t matter to you anyways.

Reine • de • Aji: Hmph... if you don’t want to answer, I don’t want to sell anything either.

Yui: (T-That‘s bad... !)

Aji-sama! Actually, we will throw a party for a certain person...

That’s why we came here to buy some decorations for that time.

Reine • de • Aji: ...I see...

Well, I’ll believe that this is really the exact reason why you two came to my store.

Because there is an abundant product lineup...

There is something really special I have.

Here, this is it.

Yui: A rocket pendant... ?

Reine • de • Aji: It’s not just a pendant

If you put a picture of someone in this, the person wearing the pendant will become a special substitute which makes them become that person.

Yui: T-That’s amazing!

(Now... that means we just have to put a picture of Rigel-sama's wife in there)

Reine • de • Aji: Well, this was just to show you. I’ll clean up, clean up now.

Yui: Ah! Please wait! Could you please lend me the pendant?

Reine • de • Aji: You want me to lend this?

Even if you say that...

Yui: Could you please lend it to me... ?

Reine • de • Aji: .....

Then there is one condition.

Instead of lending this pendant, you should bring Reine de Aji something more enjoyable than this.

Yui: ... Aji-sama... ?

Reine • de • Aji: If you can‘t think about something. Then what are you going to do?

Yui: P-Please let me do it! I will really do my best!

Place: Glimmer street — Eisen alley

Yui: (I have may have responded too vigorously... )

How do you think Aji-sama would be pleased?

Shu: .....

Yui: Shu-san?

Shu: Well... thinking about it, is that pendant necessary in the first place?

Yui: (I know you don’t feel like it‘s necessary. But...)

I‘m pretty sure Rigel-sama would be highly pleased by it.

Shu: .....

... Well, I understand it if you say it like that.

Anyway, we should go and ask some passengers in the city about what Aji could possibly like.

Yui: Y-Yes... !

Place: Demon world — Glimmer Main Street

Vampire man A: Hmm... to be suddenly asked something like that

Yui: Anything is fine. Any trivial thing...

Vampire man A: .....

Yui: .....

Vampire man A: I‘m sorry, but I don‘t know. You should ask others.

Yui: ... okay... thank you

Vampire man A: See you

Shu: *yawns* ... This was our 10th time already... what will you do? Have you given up?

Yui: ... No, I did not. I think we just need to change the place. I‘m sure it‘s that...

(I‘ll do my best without worrying about anything!)

Place: Glimmer Main Street — Front wagons

Yui: (There is even more traffic than before now. Someone in here must know something)

(Okay... ! Let‘s ask that person at first)

Excuse me... ! I‘d like to ask you a little question...

Vampire man B: ... Oh. What do you want?

Yui: Do you know Aji-sama‘s store on the other side of the street?

Vampire man B: Yes, I know it.

Yui: Actually, we want to please her... do you know any good treasure she‘d want?

Vampire man B: .....

... hmm...

Yui: (Maybe this time... !)

Vampire man B: I‘m sorry, but I don‘t think I can help you.

Yui: ... Oh, uhm, is that so...

Vampire man B: .....

The only thing that I know is... that she grows plants as her hobby

Yui: ... growing... plants?

Vampire man B: Yeah.... well then, i‘m sorry to rush off but I have a meeting

Yui: T-Thank you very much!

(Plants, huh...)

That’s it Shu-san. What about giving a special plant to Aji-sama?

Shu: ... I got no idea. I don‘t know if she really would be pleased or not either.

Yui: But, now we can at least rely on this kind of information we got...

Are there any shops around here that sell exotic plants?

Shu: Well, there are some.

Yui: (Okay... ! let‘s go then!)

Place: Demon World — Horticultual Shop

Yui: That place is...

(There are a lot of plants that I haven‘t even seen before!)

... Wow...

Shu: Not really. There are just pretty common plants for the demon world. I don’t think Aji would be pleased by any of them.

In other words... did I really just waste my time on walking here?

Yui: I-I‘m sorry...

(Hmm... we‘re in trouble. We once again need to start from the beginning)

???: ... Hmm? Welcome, dear customers.

Soun store owner: If you‘re looking for something don‘t hesitate to ask me, I‘m the owner of this store.

Yui: Thank you very much.

Soun store owner: Because it is only a boasting that you probably don‘t know anything about the flowers in the demon world.

Yui: ... That‘s right...

Which kind of flower would you give someone from the Demon world to please them with?

Soun store owner: All different kinds could make each person happy.

But... if you surely want to please everyone, the "ARE" flower would be the best.

Yui: "ARE"?

Soun store owner: Exactly. "ARE" is only blooming on the mountains.

Yui: It blooms only on the mountains... which part of the mountains is it?

Soun store owner: Don’t tell me... are you going to look for it?

Yui: If anyone would be pleased to get this kind of flower, I‘d like to go there if possible.

Soun store owner: I see

But I think it’s a shame, because it is quite difficult to get.

... Well, you will see for yourself once you get there. I‘ll show you the way on the map then...

Yui: (What does he mean?)

Place: Mine site — Entrance

Yui: (Um... i‘m surely we‘re close... next is the left...)

Place: Mine site — Underground lake

Shu: Hey... haven‘t we arrived yet?

Yui: Please wait. I think we‘re close to be there...

According to the map, there should be a cave around here.

Shu: Cave?

Isn‘t it this one?

Yui: Ah... !

Shu: Oh my. You were so focused on the map you couldn‘t even see what was around us.

Well, that is why it is not so hard to get lost while walking with no directions.

Let‘s go there quickly.

Yui: Y-Yes!

Place: Mine site — Selenite Crystal Cave

Yui: (Wow... somehow everything is sparkling...)

What is this... ?

Shu: It is a selenite. It seems that the cave was made out of it.

Yui: ... I see...

Shu: Hey, watch where you walk. Let’s go and search for the flower.

Yui: I agree

(In particularly, the store owner didn’t tell me anything about the flower)

(He just said that it would be in a spot where you couldn’t easily discover it...)

... Uhh...

..... ?

(I don‘t get it... where could it be?)

Shu: ... Oh. Hey, that’s probably it. I saw something glowing at the back.

Yui: Let‘s go

Monologue

It was a mysterious flower that we found on the other side.

It is in full bloom all around, giving off a warm light like a firefly that shines in the darkness. It’s so beautiful that I can‘t even believe it.

I reached out for the petals. However—

Place: Mine site — Selenite Crystal Cave

Yui: (Beautiful...)

Shu: This one seems to be a ghost flower.

Yui: Ghost flower?

Shu: Yes. It is a ghost-like flower that cannot be touched.

Yui: (That means it would disappear if I touch it)

(But... it really is beautiful. If you look at it, you really feel like as if it could make everyone happy)

(Including Aji-sama...)

... Now, Shu-san. Can you somehow carry this to Aji-san?

Shu: ... Haa...

You don‘t seem to give up, why don‘t you try it yourself?

Yui: (Uhh, this is... would it be okay for me to have it for awhile... ?)

(I will definitely try to think of something to get it out of here... !)

*time passed*

Yui: Ahh... another failure...

(No matter how gently I touch it, I can't change it‘s position to pick it up)

(I wonder if it is impossible ...)

Shu: *yawns*...

Yui: (Shu-san seems to be listening to music and yet he also seems bored ...)

(But ... I‘ll try it just one more time)

(It disappears if I touch it, so I should be careful ...)

(Then, why don't you scoop the whole soil instead?)

(Once again... okay... !)

.... ! Look at it Shu-san! The flower is still remaining without disappearing!

Shu: Seems like it.

Yui: Now we can take it back to Aji-sama ...! Oh, that is good!

Shu: .....

No, it wouldn’t remain that long.

Lay it down and wait a moment.

Yui: ..... ?

*time passed*

Yui: (How long should I wait? It’s already been over 5 minutes later)

Shu-san this is really—

*flower begins to disappear*

Yui: Kya!

Shu: …I knew it.

The gardener would have done the same if the whole soil was solved.

Yui: Th-That might be right...

(But like this we won‘t return to Aji-sama’s shop in 5min)

After all it is impossible...

Shu: ...No, that is not the case.

Yui: Eh... ?

Shu: I will ask you again... Do you really want to borrow that pendant?

Yui: I uhh... of course I want!

Shu: Then I will help.

— Hey, take the ghost flower from the soil again.

Yui: Y-Yes

(What exactly is he planing? Anyway, I will believe in Shu-san ...)

I did it.

Shu: Okay. And then...

Yui: (What will you do by picking up a stone ...?)

Shu: How about this— !

*bats flying around*

Yui: Kya!? There are bats!?

(I was surprised by the sounds the stone made! That's where the bats hide—)

*Shu hugged Yui*

Yui: Shu-san!? Just what are you... !?

Shu: If you give these guys 5 minutes, they will immediately bring us to the store.

Yui: I see—

— Wait, they what!?

Shu: Wake me up once we arrived.

.....

Yui: (Shu-san really is like that...)

(O-Okay. If nothing happens, we really can make it just in time)

Monologue

I made up my mind and decided to be quietly transported by the bats.

A quick glance over the ground showed that the parade continued.

If the Earl just didn’t stole my heart, I would go there with Shu-san as well... Such thoughts went beyond my mind.

I shook my head, cut off my thoughts and continued to pray that the ghost flower in my hands would not disappear.

Place: Demon world — Reine • de • Aji store

Yui: (I managed to arrive before the ghost flower disappeared!)

Shu-san! Please wake up! We arrived at the store!!

Shu: Nn... *yawns*...

We got here too fast. I want to sleep a little more...

Yui: Aji-sama might be able—

Reine • de • Aji: What is that fuss all about!?

Yui: Oh, Aji-sama!

Reine • de • Aji: It‘s you ...! Are you feeling like breaking my store in the anger of me not lending the pendant to you!?

Yui: N-No, that’s not it!

Please look at this! We wanted Aji-sama to be happy ...

Reine • de • Aji: Th-This is... it is a ghost flower...

It is a special phantom flower that I‘ve heard a lot about, but I’ve never seen one before...

Yui: (Oh, it disappeared...)

Reine • de • Aji: .....

Yui: (What should I do? Even if the bats helped us out I still couldn’t make it...)

(And now... it just disappeared...)

Reine • de • Aji: This just now was not a vision. I really saw a real ghost flower. I am …

It's completely fine, because I was able to see such a kind of flower in my store.

Did you really bother yourself to bring this to me?

Yui: I wanted you to be pleased ... but I'm sorry I could only show it to you a little...

Reine • de • Aji: It’s fine. I enjoyed it enough.

Besides, the flowers are beautiful because they die.

— Thank you. I am very pleased with this.

Yui: (T-Thats good! We did it...)

Reine • de • Aji: About the earlier story...

I‘ll surely lend you the pendant.

Yui: T-Thank you!

(I got it!)

Reine • de • Aji: There... the Sakamki one.

Shu: ...*yawns*

Reine • de • Aji: I honestly thought you guys would actually quickly give up on it.

But, you somehow managed to make me happy. Especially this young girl.

... This child really shows a lot of joy and happiness.

You really chose a nice partner. As expected from the eldest son of the Sakamaki family.

Shu: Thank you.

Yui: (Did his personality... just change? He may be a little shy after all)

Place: Hotel Mondstein — Guest room

Yui: (If you put a photo in this pendant and wear it, you can become that person)

(It's really strange when you think about it again.)

Anyway ... It looks like the party is fully organized now.

Shu: Yes

But ... you forgot one important thing.

Yui: What is it... ?

(What could he mean with "important"?)

We have a place, cake, and a surprise ... maybe…

Shu: .....

Yui: Maybe... ?

Shu: Haa...

Yui: Oh, uhm... would you mind telling me what I forgot to prepare?

Shu: Oh my...

*Shu comes closer*

— My effort

Yui: Yes?

Shu: Reward me.

Who do you think has prepared everything so far?

Yui: (From the beginning with the Gondola, it was impossible to proceed with everything without Shu-san's help)

Shu-san. Thank you very much for today.

I'm sorry for saying this so late.

Shu: Words are not enough.

If I don’t accept, then ... what else would you do?

Why don’t you ask me for something special once in a while?

Yui: Uhh...

(... what I can do ...)

Choices

1) — Massage Shu-san♡♡♡

2) — Write a letter of thanks

— Massage Shu-san♡

Yui: ... Oh, yes!

What about... giving you a massage?

Shu: Massage...

Yui: (Uh, I’m sure he feels exhausted)

Shu-san, you really worked hard today and that’s when a massage would be good.

Shu: Haha ... It might be good occasionally. Would you really like to do it then?

Yui: Y-Yes...

Shu: ...Hey. I honestly wouldn’t call this a massage. Try it with more passion.

Yui: Understood.

Shu: ... Hmm...

— Write a letter of appreciation

Yui: Then ... what about writing a letter of appreciation?

Like this I could show my appreciation in clear words...

Shu: .....

Yui: (Oh, he doesn’t look amazed)

Shu: Haa ... I'll just take what you said.

Yui: Yes...

(I wonder if it would have been much better to give him a massage ...)

(Let's do it next time)

end Choices

Yui: (In any case ... It was good that the party proceeded safely)

(Oh ... but ...)

(Shu-san, he didn’t really like the idea of the pendant)

(I wonder what’s the reason behind it?)

132 notes · View notes

lets-talk-appella · 5 years

Text

i’m nobody’s but yours

Chapter 8/25 - Chloe

Summary: Beca is straight as an arrow. 100%, totally, completely straight. Except for one problem that 100%, totally, completely changes everything: Chloe Beale.

Title borrowed from Calum Scott’s “If Our Love Is Wrong.”

Word Count: 6k

Rating: M (for dark themes, homophobia, masturbation, and eventual smut in later chapters)

TW: Internalized homophobia (slightly different form than what we have seen in past chapters)

AO3, FFN, and below.

Amy hands Chloe the mysterious, vaguely fruity concoction in a red Solo cup. “Bottoms up!” she cheers.

Chloe sips the drink carefully, too aware of the abandon with which Amy tends to make drinks. Thankfully, she mostly tastes the fruit, though she knows how strong the drink really is.

“Thanks,” Chloe smiles, then turns away from the makeshift bar Amy always sets up at the Treble house.

It’s her fourth drink in half an hour, and she knows that she shouldn’t indulge so much so quickly, but when Beca’s dancing around the party dressed in black skinny jeans and a navy top unbuttoned down to dangerous territory, it seems like the only solution.

The party is in full swing; music pounds from the speakers surrounding the pool, and all of the Bellas and Trebles are in attendance, plus several strangers from Barden’s assorted fraternities and sororities. The Jell-O shots were an instant hit; only a few remain, and Beca finished the taco dip almost single-handedly. More than once, Chloe spotted her glaring at anyone who dared to draw near it.

They haven’t spoken to each other since the earlier weirdness – Chloe refuses to think of it as an argument – in her room. She’s kept her distance, socializing with other people, but still keeping an eye on Beca, just in case she does have some unexpected breakdown over Jesse. Jesse himself seems fine; he’d greeted Beca with an awkward and brief hug, but other than that has mostly spent the party hanging with Benji and the other Trebles.

Chloe finds that she feels much more generously toward him now that he’s no longer dating Beca.

“Hello.”

Chloe looks up to see a guy she doesn’t recognize standing in front of her. He’s cute enough; tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and brown eyes. He reminds her a little of Tom, but she still feels the familiar twinge of annoyance at being approached unsolicited.

“Hi,” she replies, already knowing how this is going to go.

“Do you have a map?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “‘Cuz I’m lost in your eyes,” he finishes with a proud grin.

It’s lame. It’s such a lame line, and she’s heard it what feels like hundreds of times before. Still, for half a second, she’s tempted. He’d be a distraction, if nothing else.

But then, her eyes again find Beca, dancing as if her life depends on it. Recently single Beca. Chloe almost wants to laugh at herself; there’s a cute guy attempting to flirt with her. She’s young and single. She should pretend to laugh at the line. She should flirt with him, maybe even kiss him or, hell, sleep with him. There’s no reason she can’t.

Well.

Except that Beca’s single. And Chloe doesn’t know how to stop hoping.

“I’ve heard that one too much,” Chloe replies, refocusing on the guy. “Next time, be more original.”

His face falls in disappointment, bur before he can even think about trying again, Chloe says, “Excuse me,” and stalks past him. She needs another drink.

“Trouble?” Stacie appears out of nowhere, hooking their arms together and steering Chloe away from Amy’s bar. They double back, walking slowly along the side of the pool.

“The usual,” Chloe sighs. “He was harmless, just boring.”

Stacie laughs, and Chloe can smell the alcohol on her breath. “Honestly, Chloe, if I had a body and a face like yours, I’d tear this party apart.”

Chloe looks sideways at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, yeah, whatever,” Stacie concedes, her voice loud enough to carry over the party, making a few people glance over at them. “I’m just saying! You should be getting laid!”

“Stacie,” Chloe hisses, trying desperately to get her to be a little quieter. “You know why I’m not.”

Stacie nods sagely, stumbling just enough that Chloe has to tug on her arm to keep her upright. “Yeah, now that she’s single… you gonna ask her out?”

Chloe stops walking. Behind them, a drunken frat boy stops walking as well, trying to avoid running into them. He staggers, veers sideways, and topples into the pool with a splash that urges Chloe onward to avoid the water droplets, dragging Stacie with her.

“I… I’d like to,” Chloe replies slowly, not having to ask which “she” Stacie’s referring to. “But she’s straight.”

Stacie shrugs. “So is spaghetti ‘til it’s wet.”

“Oh my god! Stacie! That’s just –”

“Accurate?”

“I…” Chloe starts, then trails off at Stacie’s wicked grin. She settles for shaking her head, catching sight of Lilly staring at the flame on one of the tiki torches while Jessica and Ashley dance together nearby.

“She’s acting all weird anyway,” Chloe eventually mumbles. They’ve stopped walking and now stand off to the side of the party, near the bushes separating the Treble property from the Bellas’.

“What do you mean?” Stacie asks, frowning over at where Cynthia Rose appears to be teaching Emily a technique for consuming Jell-O shots that involves more tongue than strictly necessary.

“I mean, like. Weird.”

“That’s helpful,” Stacie quips, rolling her eyes in a strong impression of Beca.

Chloe sighs, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “It’s... I don’t know. She’s acting – she’s not – do you think there’s a way she could know?” Chloe asks in a rush. “About… you know. How I feel,” she whispers, glancing around to make sure no one is eavesdropping nearby.

Stacie blinks. “I really don’t see how she could,” she says slowly, swirling the drink in her hand. “She’s really not the most observant midget in the world.”

“But she’s not letting me – she’s not the same!” Chloe catches herself, feeling it would be childish or even creepy to say that Beca isn’t letting her touch her.

Stacie’s already shaking her head. “Look, I don’t know what... that’s about, but I can almost guarantee she doesn’t know. It’s not like anyone would tell her.”

Chloe shifts her weight, thinking. Across the party, Amy has wrapped up at the bar and is starting to wander around with a tray of tequila shots, prepping for her usual ambush of unsuspecting people for rounds of body shots.

“That’s true…” Chloe replies as Amy swoops down on her pair of victims. “It would just explain why she acts weird around me now.”

“Okay, fine,” Stacie says, sounding exasperated. “Say it’s that. Let’s pretend she knows about –” she gestures vaguely along Chloe’s entire body “– all that. Why would she break up with Jesse then?”

“I…” Chloe starts, then stops. “They... don’t have chemistry?”

Stacie snorts. “Well, duh. But, fine then, why would she stay here? She said they’re still on good terms, so why not just go with him to LA anyway?”

Chloe hesitates, drawing a blank. It’s true; Beca could still go.

Across the party, Amy approaches Emily and Flo with shots at the ready.

“Look,” Stacie continues, taking a generous swig of her drink. “Beca runs when she’s scared. It’s what she does.” she emphasizes when Chloe opens her mouth to interrupt. “And she’s staying put this summer, which means she’s not scared. Whatever her deal is, she doesn’t want to run from you.”

“That’s true,” Chloe murmurs.

“I know. And,” Stacie adds, “this means that even if she does know, which she doesn’t, she’s choosing not to run away.”

“That… actually makes sense,” Chloe says. “I knew there was a reason you graduated with honors.”

Stacie winks and opens her mouth to say something but is cut off by an enormous cheer. Chloe glances over at its source, expecting to see Amy doing something crazy. Instead, her eyes land on Beca, trapped in the middle of a grind-fest between three different guys. Instinctively, Chloe looks for Jesse, expecting him to put a stop to it, but he’s nowhere to be seen and she remembers that Beca’s single and probably living it up.

“See?” Chloe says bitterly, tearing her eyes away. Seeing those guys all over Beca makes her stomach ache. “Very, very straight.”

“Umm... look again,” Stacie suggests.

Something in her tone catches Chloe’s attention, and she forces herself to look back at the throng. Beca’s expression screams discomfort and she’s hunched in on herself, trying to make herself smaller.

“Maybe not as straight as we thought?” Stacie mutters, looking at Chloe expectantly. “Or at least, not into them,” she emphasizes, offering a free hand to Chloe.

Without thinking twice, Chloe hands Stacie her drink. “For Christ’s sake,” she mutters, and hurries toward Beca and the creeps rubbing themselves all over her.

She’s there in seconds; she doesn’t hesitate and grabs the back of the nearest guy’s shirt collar and pulls. Predictably, he’s drunk, and she’s easily able to haul him backward and give him a healthy shove in the other direction.

“Okay, we’re done here,” she says loudly to the general audience and catches hold of Beca’s outstretched hand. With a tug (much more gentle than she had been with the first guy), Chloe plucks Beca out from between the two remaining guys. Ignoring their looks of irritation, Chloe guides Beca away and back to a less-crowded corner of the party.

“Thanks,” Beca huffs once they’re away from the middle of the party. She looks down at herself in dismay and starts brushing off her clothes, as if those guys had gotten dirt on her. And maybe it’s the alcohol Beca’s already consumed, but she remains close to Chloe and doesn’t pull away or put space between them for the first time in days.

“Anytime,” Chloe says, resisting the urge to help Beca dust herself off. “Didn’t look fun.”

“It really wasn’t,” Beca agrees, now repairing her hair. “It’s just – they all heard I’m single now, so.”

“And who can blame them?”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Chloe wants to take them back. She blames the alcohol, the slight adrenaline rush, and the fact that Beca is voluntarily standing less than three feet away from her for the first time in days.

Beca’s mouth drops open a little in surprise. Chloe’s about to apologize, to take it back and insist she didn’t mean it, but then Beca’s eyes drop to her lips. Something flutters in Chloe’s chest, and she waits for Beca to jerk back or turn away, but instead, Beca only leans in closer a millimeter.

“I – about earlier…” Beca starts, her eyes jumping between Chloe’s lips and eyes. She leans forward again, and Chloe mirrors her, her heart pounding, until they’re so close that their noses almost touch and it would only take the smallest movement from either of them to close the gaps between their lips and –

“BODY SHOTS!”

Amy’s yell is so close and unexpected that it makes Chloe jerk back in surprise; she stumbles, trips, and is about to land on her ass in the bushes, but then Beca’s hand wraps around her forearm to steady her.

“Body shots,” Amy repeats, ignoring Chloe’s near-death experience. “It’s tradition!”

“Oh no,” Beca groans, releasing Chloe’s arm and backing away. “Oh dear god no.”

“Oh, come on!” Amy cries, latching a hand on Beca’s shoulder, holding her in place. “You have to do it sometime.”

“No, I really –”

“You’re doing it,” Amy insists. “Everyone else has at least once at some point. You’ve never.”

“I – I’m – there’s no way –” Beca’s stammering now, her expression becoming more panicked by the second. “Chloe?”

Chloe shakes the fog from her head (god, she’d been so close to kissing Beca) and shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “It’ll probably be less painful to just give in.”

“I –”

“It’s you two,” Amy says, pointing between them, “or you and some stranger of my choosing,” she threatens.

For a long moment, Beca hesitates. One of the guys who’d been grinding on her earlier, the one Chloe had initially shoved away, wanders past, his eyes locked onto her cleavage. Chloe glares at him, silently daring him to reach out so she can pummel him properly this time, but then Beca clears her throat.

“Uh, no, let’s just… Chloe?” she asks, something unidentifiable in her expression.

“What?” Chloe tears her eyes away from the creep. “Uh, are you sure?”

“She’s sure,” Amy butts in, forcing a lime slice and a salt shaker into Beca’s hands. “Let’s go, Shawshank.”

Beca eyes the salt shaker apprehensively. “How do I…”

The reality of what’s about to happen hits Chloe hard; she feels as if she’s been launched from her body. She’s just drunk enough yet and Beca’s perfume is so achingly familiar and they’d been so close to kissing. Something stirs low in her gut and she knows this is a bad idea, but she still doesn’t care. Chloe sees, as if floating above the scene, her own hands reaching forward to pluck the salt and lime from Beca’s grasp.

“Like this,” she says, the cool glass of the salt shaker and moisture of the lime against her fingertips working to pull her back into her own body. “Tilt,” she commands, her fingers tingling with excitement she’s trying hard not to show.

Beca only looks at her questioningly, so she reaches forward to cup Beca’s chin, angling her face up and to the side to expose the soft skin of her neck. She watches Beca’s throat bob as she drops her hand from Beca’s chin.

Beca’s arms fall to her side, hands balled into fists. Chloe glances at her face, just to double-check that she is really okay with this; her eyes are screwed tightly shut and her expression is tense, but she’s not stepping away. Chloe stares for a long moment, wanting to memorize the image of Beca standing in wait for her, but then Amy clears her throat and gives her a pointed look. Getting the message, Chloe sucks in a slow breath to steel herself, then steps forward and raises the lime.

She’s done this before, but never with Beca, and she’ll almost certainly never get to do this with Beca again. So, she allows herself to indulge, dragging the surface of the lime from the swell of Beca’s right breast, up her chest, and over her neck, stopping at her pulse point just below her jaw. Beca’s skin raises into goosebumps along the trail the lime had painted, but she doesn’t step away or even flinch. Before her good sense can kick in and change her mind, Chloe eases the lime between Beca’s lips.

“Hold,” she whispers, and Beca’s teeth bite lightly into where the fruit meets the rind, holding the lime in place.

Lifting the salt shaker, Chloe sprinkles salt over the line of juice she’d drawn with the lime, careful not to pour out too much so that she’ll still be able to taste Beca’s skin under the salt and juice. Handing Amy the salt shaker, Chloe takes half a heartbeat to steady herself. Then, while she still has the courage, she steps forward, rests her hands on Beca’s hips, and leans her head down.

The sounds of the party fade to a low hum, everything and everyone else falling away the instant Chloe’s tongue touches Beca’s skin just above her breast. She flattens it and drags it slowly upward, following the trail of salt. As she goes, she hears Beca’s breath catch and Beca’s hands land flat on her back, holding her in place. It surprises Chloe, her mind instantly launched to an entirely different scenario involving ragged breathing and Beca’s hands on her back, but she keeps going, her tongue collecting every last grain of salt. Under the salt and lime, Beca’s skin tastes like her perfume smells, sweet and delicate, and so completely Beca. Chloe traces up her neck, ending at Beca’s pulse point, where she can’t resist letting her lips press gently; it drags a soft, strangled sound of surprise from Beca’s throat that makes need pool in Chloe’s stomach.

She pulls away reluctantly, reaches for the shot of tequila that appears almost magically in her hand, and throws it back. She winces a little at the taste, but then she’s leaning forward again to find the lime to ease the flavor. She can see every detail of Beca’s face, as close as they are, can hear every breath she takes. Chloe captures the fruit gently with her teeth, but her courage falters at being that close to Beca, so she only barely lets their lips brush. Despite her resistance, though, the briefest sensation of Beca’s lips under hers sends fire racing down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

She wants to press closer, to kiss Beca properly without the lime in the way and give her everything she deserves. She knows instantly she’ll never recover from this, even that tiny contact between their lips, and she wants nothing more than to prolong it.

She steps back, Beca’s hands falling away from her as she creates space between them. Chloe bites into the lime, the juice bursting from the fruit and sending flavor exploding over her tongue. She sucks until it’s dry and the tang of tequila is gone, then places what’s left of the slice on the tray Amy still holds.

The whole thing takes barely ten seconds, but it leaves her hands shaking and heart pounding.

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

Beca’s skin is hot under Chloe’s fingers and lips. They’re twisted together in a tangle of limbs, bare bodies tacky with perspiration. Chloe is on fire, her skin burning everywhere Beca touches her. Their kisses are frantic and needy, and when Beca sucks on her tongue, Chloe thinks she’s losing her mind.

Chloe kisses Beca fiercely, pressing her down into the mattress as she leans over her. Beca’s hands are on her shoulders, her back, her ass, wherever they can reach, tugging her down and even closer as if trying to pull Chloe into her very skin. Chloe grinds forward and down from where she’s situated between Beca’s open legs, making Beca’s hips cant upward and dragging a groan from Beca’s throat.

“Chlo…” Beca whimpers, hooking a leg around Chloe’s hips to pull her in.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Chloe reaches her hand between them, trailing her fingertips down Beca’s jumping stomach, over her slim hip bones, and between her legs to brush through wet heat. They both groan at the touch, Chloe unable to resist stroking, exploring, her fingers gliding over Beca’s soft skin that somehow feels even better than she’d imagined. She finds Beca’s swollen bud easily and swirls two fingers around it, adding pressure with each pass, taking pride in the way Beca’s mouth drops open and her eyes slam shut. The hands on Chloe’s back clutch at her in desperation.

“God, that’s so good,” Beca moans, her back arching, her breasts rising to brush against Chloe’s.

Chloe groans in response, her fingers dropping to tease Beca’s entrance. It makes Beca throw her head back into the pillow, neck straining, and Chloe can’t resist dropping to attach her lips to the delicate skin there.

“Chloe, please, I – please, I need you,” is panted into the air, Beca’s hips again lifting into hers.

That – hearing Beca say she needs her – destroys Chloe’s self-control and she slides into Beca easily. Beca chokes on air and nails scrape down Chloe’s spine as Chloe curls her fingers, pulling out and pushing in, setting the slow, thorough pace Beca deserves.

All too soon, Chloe feels Beca clamping around her fingers; Beca’s pants and moans string together, rising and building until she cuts herself off with a gasp. For a second, she’s rigid and silent, and then she falls, pulsing around Chloe’s fingers, moaning and crying out, Chloe’s name falling from her lips in a beautiful symphony.

Chloe’s eyes fly open and she wakes with a start, the sound of Beca’s climax still ringing in her ears. She twists to look at the space beside her in her bed, chest aching when she sees how alone she is. She allows her mind to chase the dream for a second, desperate to remember what it feels like to touch Beca like that, to hear Beca moaning her name, what it’s like for Beca to be hers and hers alone.

She shifts in bed uncomfortably, her thighs flexing. The dream had left her wet and aching, and it’s second nature to let her hand slide down her stomach and further south. It’s so easy to imagine it’s Beca, returning the touch...

That’s when her brain catches up with the rest of her body and she yanks her hand back up. She can’t do this. She can’t touch herself while thinking about Beca. It’s wrong.

As soon as she realizes it, shame washes over her in a wave, warming her face and making her want to hide under the covers. It had been the most vivid sex dream she’s ever had, and it had been with Beca. Best friend Beca, straight Beca, currently-in-a-relationship Beca.

Jesus.

The backs of Chloe’s eyes prickle and sting as it sinks in that her dream will never be the reality. She’s never going to feel Beca’s hands on her like that, never going to lay Beca down on a bed and make love to her in a way she deserves. It’s utterly unfair, and completely cruel, that she can so clearly imagine what it would feel like to touch Beca when it’s the one thing she can never do.

Chloe rolls to her stomach and groans into her pillow. She knows Beca would never cheat on Jesse, even though they’ve only been together barely a year, so Chloe’s pretty sure the mere thought of being with Beca like that makes her a homewrecker. And, Jesus, If Beca knew about this, it would ruin everything. Their friendship would be over.

The tears start to fall then, leaking into her pillow, and Chloe forces herself to take several deep breaths to keep from breaking into all-out sobs. She knows rationally that it’s not her fault; it’s impossible to control dreams. Still, she still feels like some kind of pervert, or – Christ – a predator, even, for making Beca the unwilling star of her pornographic dreams.

She tries to burrow further into her bed, pressing her face down into the pillow and hoping she’ll somehow disappear completely, but that only serves to push her hips down into the mattress and, oh god, that had been such a good dream. The sharp reminder of it makes her twist sharply to lie on her back again, trying to think of something – anything – else to get her body to calm down, to not be so goddamn turned on.

What the hell is wrong with her?

It’s going to be a long night.

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

“So. That’s a body shot,” Chloe says, hoping her voice won’t betray her.

Beca nods, looking as shaken as Chloe feels. “That – that wasn’t so bad,” she says, lifting a hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “So…”

“So your turn!” Amy cries gleefully, shoving the salt shaker into Beca’s chest.

“Uh, I just do the same thing?”

“Well… you could always have her lay down and take it off her bellybutton,” Amy suggests, eyebrows waggling.

“Ew,” Beca wrinkles her nose. “No offense,” she adds, glancing at Chloe.

“You’re good,” Chloe assures her. “I don’t want a sticky stomach. The same way is fine.”

Beca nods, taking a deep breath of her own. She reaches over to pluck a slice of lime from the tray and takes a step forward, very much in Chloe’s personal space. “Tilt,” she says softly, reaching out to guide Chloe’s chin up and angled with a single finger. She’s light and careful, but Chloe can still feel everywhere Beca’s touch rests on her face.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Beca extends the lime forward. Chloe feels its coolness against her skin, low on her chest and gliding up her neck in a smooth line to end just below her jaw. It makes her shiver, but she’s not sure if it’s because of the coolness of the fruit itself or because of the person holding it.

“And then…” Beca mumbles to herself, raising the lime hesitantly to Chloe’s mouth. “Um, could you…?” she asks, and Chloe takes the lime rind between her teeth, already able to taste the tang of it. The feeling of Beca being that close, close enough that Chloe could count her eyelashes, is almost too much. She closes her eyes, in case Beca sees what she’s really feeling.

“Right,” Beca says, and a moment later, Chloe feels the tickle of salt grains tumbling over her chest and neck, sticking to the path of juice.

Then comes the clink of the salt shaker being replaced on the tray, and Chloe braces herself, knowing she’ll never be truly ready. Light hands land on her hips and air puffs over her chest, followed by something warm and soft that is unmistakably Beca’s tongue. It travels slowly up her chest, Chloe’s skin burning at the contact. Beca’s mouth reaches her neck and it takes every ounce of self-control Chloe has to remain silent and still, but then Beca reaches the apex of the salt just under Chloe’s jaw. Her lips press against Chloe’s neck and she sucks, running her tongue over skin drawn into her mouth to lick up the residual grains of salt.

Chloe’s hands twitch at her sides and she has to choke down the moan threatening to break free. For a crazy second, she’s sure Beca’s about to mark her, but then the sucking pressure stops and Beca steps away. There’s a beat, and Chloe pictures Beca taking the shot, can imagine her little frown at the taste –

And then she senses Beca move in close and just like that, Beca’s nose is nudging the side of hers and there’s a pressure on the lime as Beca closes her lips around it. Unlike Chloe, though, Beca lets their lips touch; the unexpected sensation makes Chloe’s knees weaken and she almost leans forward to begin a more purposeful kiss. Before she can give into the urge, Beca’s lips pull back and the lime is taken from her mouth, cool air rushing to replace Beca’s body in front of her.

Chloe forces her eyes open in time to see Beca take the used lime slice from her own mouth and place it on the tray. When she turns back to look at Chloe, the party around them fades away until they’re the only two people in the world.

And there’s a moment, a sliver of time where Beca leans in and her eyes drop to Chloe’s mouth, and Chloe’s sure she’s going to kiss her; but even as Chloe starts to lean into it, something small changes in Beca’s expression, a slight shift that sends warning bells glaring through Chloe’s brain. She panics and steps back before Beca can, breaking eye contact.

The moment breaks, and sound rushes back into Chloe’s ears as if someone had turned the world off mute. The party surges around them and Amy stares at Beca, eyes wide with excitement. More than a few people are watching them, including Stacie and Emily, and Chloe thinks she even sees Jesse’s face quickly turning away. All the eyes on her make Chloe feel trapped and claustrophobic, scrutinized by the people who almost witnessed the ruin of her friendship with Beca.

Because she’s positive that if they had actually kissed, it would have destroyed everything.

Beca’s still staring at her, eyes dark.

“See?” Chloe manages, her own voice muffled in her ears. trying to control her voice. “Nothing to it.”

“Yeah,” Beca blinks. Uh –”

“I’ve got to go,” Chloe blurts, unable to bear another second this close to Beca.

Beca blinks at her, eyebrows lifting, but before she can say anything, Chloe turns on the spot. She flies past Amy and weaves through the horde of drunken party-goers, her only goal to get away from Beca. She has to run, because if she doesn’t, she’s going to do something incredibly stupid, like pressing Beca into the nearest flat surface to kiss her senseless.

So, she runs, crashes through the bushes separating the Treble and Bella properties, flying over the lawn and into the Bella house, slamming the door behind her. She jogs up the stairs to the second floor, taking them two at a time, and reaches the landing in seconds. She can’t escape her thoughts, though; even as she launches herself into her bedroom and locks the door, all she can think about is how sweet Beca’s skin tasted and how hot Beca’s tongue felt on her neck and how perfectly Beca’s lips fit against hers.

Chloe paces around her room, hands clasped behind her neck and heart pounding as if it’s trying to escape from her chest. Beca’s straight, Beca’s her best friend. Chloe growls, angry at herself. What is wrong with her that she keeps letting things like this happen? God, Beca’s long-term relationship ended literally hours ago, and instead of being a supportive best friend, Chloe’s thinking about jamming her tongue down Beca’s throat.

There’s something really, really wrong with her.

She needs help.

Chloe stops pacing to throw herself down on her bed, landing on her back. She extracts her phone from the front pocket of her jeans and immediately calls Aubrey.

The line rings twice, then thrice, and Chloe only dimly registers she’s chanting, “Pick up, pick up, pick up –”

“Chloe?” Aubrey’s voice sounds groggy and confused, but the familiar sound of it sends relief crashing over Chloe in a wave. “Ugh, do you know what time it is?”

Chloe frowns and cranes her neck to glance at the clock.

“Bree, it’s barely after midnight.”

“Exactly,” Aubrey yawns.

Despite the anxiety rolling her stomach, Chloe’s lips twitch. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, I have to be up early. But you sound like hell, so it’s okay. What’s up?”

The situation rushes back, the harsh reality of what happened and what almost happened making Chloe want to melt into nonexistence.

“God, I – shit, Aubrey I really messed up,” Chloe chokes out, her throat tight. Her hands have started shaking; she grips her phone more tightly to get it to stop.

“What happened?” Aubrey asks, her voice sharpening and sounding more alert. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m –” Chloe stops herself before she can lie and say “fine,” and changes tactic. “It’s Beca.”

“What happened to Beca?”

“She’s okay, she – she just broke up with Jesse and then we almost kissed and then we did body shots and almost kissed again and I can’t do this anymore because she’s my friend and she’s straight and –”

“Chloe, breathe!” Aubrey interrupts. Chloe takes a massive gulp of air, once again feeling light-headed and panicky. “Take another,” Aubrey commands, and Chloe breathes again, and again, until her heart rate starts to settle.

“Okay,” Aubrey says. “So, uh, holy shit. She broke up with Jesse, and then... you guys did shots and almost kissed?”

Chloe shrugs, even though Aubrey can’t see her. “Yeah, basically.”

“And... this is a bad thing?”

“What?” Chloe snaps, surprised by how confused Aubrey sounds. “Yes! Of course it’s bad! Don’t you understand what almost happened?”

“But I thought –”

“It’s not right!” interrupts Chloe, a heavy guilt settling in her chest even as her breathing picks up again. “I shouldn’t have done body shots with her! It’s weird, and inappropriate, and –”

“No, sweetie, it’s not –”

Chloe laughs wildly, edging into hysterics. “Yes, it is! I got carried away because she’s single now and, God, I wanted to kiss her so badly, Bree. It was just – it’s horrible of me.”

“Chloe, I don’t understand,” Aubrey replies slowly. “You’ve never felt weird liking other girls. Unless… you just didn’t say?”

“That’s – it’s different!” Chloe stammers, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “It’s different because it’s Beca and she’s my friend and she’s straight! It never feels good to crush on a straight girl,” she sighs. “It’s – it’s creepy, and bad and terrible, and I – she didn’t ask for me to get all weird around her! She never did anything to – to lead me on, and I ruined everything by falling for her!”

Chloe throws her free arm over her eyes, wanting to shut out the world. “God,” she continues, “what’s so wrong with me that I can’t control my feelings around her? I – it makes me some kind of – of predator or something!” she explodes, her voice cracking.

On the other end of the line, Aubrey is silent. Chloe waits, swallowing hard against the massive lump in her throat. She takes a shuddering breath but isn’t able to calm her thundering heart.

“Chloe Anne Beale,” Aubrey finally says, her voice tight and measured. “You listen to me right now. I’ve been trying to tell you this for years, but you didn’t listen and – well, you’re going to listen now. Understand?”

“Aubrey, don’t –”

“No,” Aubrey cuts her off sharply. “I’m talking. You’re listening.”

Chloe hiccups and wipes at her eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“Look....” Aubrey sighs, her tone gentler and soft. “I can’t… even imagine what all you’re feeling, but… Chloe. Come on. I’ve known you for seven years.”

Chloe’s lips pull into a watery smile, remembering how they first met.

“And I know you are not a predator, Chloe. You aren’t. You never have been. You aren’t terrible, you aren’t creepy, and there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? There is nothing wrong about having feelings for someone.”

Chloe stares blankly at the ceiling, ensnared by Aubrey’s words, half-afraid to believe her.

“Chlo,” Aubrey implores, “you are a fantastic friend, an excellent captain, and a beautiful person, inside and out. You are… you’re the kindest, sweetest, and most caring person I have ever met. Listen to me, Chloe. Just because you’ve had these feelings for Beca all this time… it doesn’t make you weird, or creepy, or a bad person, and it most certainly doesn’t make you a predator. You are not – and never have been – a predator. You’re human.”

Silence fills the line. Chloe can’t speak; there’s something lodged in her throat.

“Okay?” Aubrey asks.

Chloe can only nod, forgetting that Aubrey can’t see her.

“Chloe?”

Clearing her throat, Chloe croaks out, “Yeah, I… yeah. Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome,” Aubrey replies briskly. “So if that’s all… wanna watch a movie? Switch to Skype?”

Chloe smiles, knowing that Aubrey hates getting sappy almost as much as Beca does. “Sure,” she replies, picking herself up from her bed to hunt down her laptop and charger. It’s not the first time they’ve watched a movie together like this. “You sure I won’t keep you up too late?”

“It’s fine,” Aubrey dismisses. “I’ll ask one of the other camp counselors to take point tomorrow. What do you want to watch?”

“Um…” Chloe pulls up Netflix and does a quick search for something light, funny, and relatively short (no matter what Aubrey says, Chloe knows her sleep is important to her).

They eventually decide on Mean Girls, and Chloe settles into her bed after changing into her pajamas. She pulls up Skype, connects with Aubrey, and they watch the movie together, laughing at the same old lines and quoting Regina George to each other. It’s exactly what Chloe needs.

At around 2:30 in the morning, after the movie has ended and Aubrey has said goodnight, Chloe lies in bed and listens to the sounds of the others coming home. She hears Amy’s loud voice, several thuds as – judging by the yelps of pain – Stacie, Flo, and Emily trip up the stairs, and the sounds of nine pairs of feet wandering the house in search of food, water, and bed. For one terrifying second, she doesn’t think Beca’s with them – what if she’d stayed with Jesse? – but then another thud and a muffled and familiar “Fuck,” reassures her. At one point, right as she’s drifting off to sleep, she almost thinks footsteps stop outside her door. No one knocks, though, so she thinks she must have imagined it.

As she always does, she falls asleep thinking of Beca.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect fanfic #i'm nobody's but yours #chapter eight #stacie and amy are here #parties #body shots #tw internalized homophobia of a differed sort

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