#the actual text of the dialogue can’t do as much heavy lifting because there just isn’t as much of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

midnight walk — bang chan.

— “I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.”

— “in which you and chan walk through a park during midnight to catch up on some much needed alone time, and you’re prominently reminded of how much you love him, and he does too.”

pairing: chan x (gn) reader

word count: 3 k

genre: fluff, boyfriend au, idolverse au (though not very prominent throughout the fic)

⇥ warnings: none, very self indulgent making out but nothing sexual, just kissing. minimal dialogue, kissing in public even though there’s no people around, also this situation is just for fictional purposes okay, I am not encouraging any acts of pda that takes place here between idols or anyone (quite frankly i have no idea about it’s legality, but as I said, it’s fictional), it’s just for entertainment purposes. Please take it as such. Also this park is huge and Chan and Y/N walk pretty slowly, and they’re from different companies.

type: drabble.

⇥ disclaimer: This fic does not intend to represent the actions of the real Bang Chan in any way, shape of form, nor does it intend to represent JYPE. Events are pure fiction, please take them as such.

note — Something soft because I wanted to write. This idea was brought up in a convo between me and ella and it was originally for han but then I wrote it for chan because i need my comfort kpop boy right now. Also @meiiyue. I hope this is not shit but i have no idea haha. Please, please leave feedback. Not edited, please excuse grammatical errors and typos. I;m sorry is this is trash, I really haven’t written seriously in a while ;-;

The air over here is way too moist.

So much so that you can feel beads of sweat litter the top of your brow the moment it’s been five minutes since you’ve arrived. You suppose you can’t complain when you and Chan made up the plan to meet immediately after a heavy downpour — you loved the smell of rain and he wanted to see you — it was a win-win situation.

But where is he?

You wipe your forehead with the back of your sleeve, clutching your umbrella tightly in one hand while simultaneously going through your phone with the other. Your surroundings are calm, quiet, peaceful, exactly what you need to delve into your own thoughts and relax from the actual week you’d gone through. You can feel the tension in your shoulders, very very slowly, seep away as a blanket of mental peace is wrapped around your shoulders. As nice as it feels to be alone in this quiet place, all you want right now, is to hold your boyfriend’s hand and revel in nature.

You make a “tsk” noise, brushing the hair stuck to your face before scrolling through your contacts. You’re about to click on the one that says “channieeee <3″ when you feel hands — warm hands, grab at your shoulders from behind, and you shriek at the sudden shock that overcomes you. Owing to it being very quiet in this park, you slam a hand over your mouth, turning around to see the only person you were waiting for this whole time, albeit not this way.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You frown, though a small smile does pull at your lips when your eyes meet his warm brown ones.

“I was letting you know of my presence?”

“By sneaking behind me and giving me a heart attack?”

“I was going to give you a back-hug—” Chan points out, waking around the bench to sit down next to you, not needing to ask at all. “—but then you screamed and I had to revoke it.”

A part of you wishes that had happened — as terrifying as that encounter was, Chan gives great hugs. One of a kind. It’s almost like every time his hands wrap around your waist or shoulders, every inch of stress, thoughts melt away, leaving you in a calm state of bliss. That’s what Chan’s hugs are — pure bliss and honestly, your escape.

You give yourself a second to analyze his sharp features. Soft eyes, delicate smile, the pale, soft skin on his cheek so inviting. In this place where you and Chan are together, all you want to do is crawl into his arms, let go of the barrier that surrounds you and just be... yourself. You want to cup his cheeks and kiss him, just like you do whenever you meet up in secret.

But there’s more secrecy and hiding involved in an idol’s life.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say, fixing your mask properly over your nose before standing from your place. “You know better than to revoke my hugs, Christopher.”

Chan chuckles in endearment. You only call him Christopher when you’re unsure of your own statement, and it’s evident in the way your words end like you’re questioning him. Chan’s waiting for the “...right?” that should be following soon, but, oh well. He knows himself that denying you isn’t something his heart would allow, especially not when you look at him like that.

Eyes gleaming under the dim lights of the park at midnight, a soft, almost unseen smile that only he’s allowed to see adorning your lips, and soft, unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. You didn’t even have to tell him you missed him, or that you wished to be in his arms again, because the connection between the both of you was on a whole other level — he could read all your emotions, just from looking into your eyes.

“Can’t deny that, can I?” He says, getting up from his seat before smoothing his shirt, while you put your phone into your pouch and fix your coat. Then, his hands silently seek your own, lacing his fingers with your own as warmth spreads through your chest. His hand feels soft, even more so than the last time you met him. In a silent want to hold him close to you, you tighten your grip as you smile at him and he reflects it back.

You walk around the path slowly, each step lingering against the mossy ground for a good second before moving on to the other. It’s so, so calming. The cold, moist winds refreshingly cool against your skin now that you’re not sitting idle in one place, the darkness in the park oddly calming. There’s the slight chirping of insects that resounds through the space like gentle music, and eventually, you feel yourself relax as you take in your surroundings.

“So, how was your week?” You ask, feeling yourself blush when you silently lean your head against your shoulder whilst walking, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he snakes an arm around your waist, sending shivers up your spine when he gently smooths the fabric of your coat with his thumb.

“Stressful, honestly.” The both of you turn around the corner without second thought. You’ve done this so many times, it’s like your bodies are being pulled to the place you wish so hard to be in right now. You missed him. You missed him so, so much. You can see the stress lines on his forehead and the darkness around his eyes, almost sure that he isn’t getting enough sleep either. After a long pause where you take in his words, he murmurs silently. “Missed you during the shoot.”

“Awh darling,” You coo, pressing a soft kiss onto his shoulder, and even though he doesn’t feel it through his own coat, Chan can feel himself smile affectionately. Every tiny gesture you provide is just so... attracting. Comforting. Be it lacing your fingers through his hair and stroking gently to lull him into sleep or just a hand against his thigh, a soft whisper of an “I’m here” when his stress gets the best of him and he’s clinging desperately onto your shirt, fluttering of your lips all over his face the occasional time you wake up together, or just this — walking through a park at midnight because it’s hard to meet up when you’re both popular idols, hand in hand with almost no words spoken. Everything about you is just so... beautiful. “Did you eat and drink well this week?”

“I did. You wouldn’t stop texting me every day, remember?” Chan laughs, the kind that makes your heart flutter and do backflips.

“It’s very necessary. We both know you're total ass at taking breaks.”

“Hey!” Chan pouts, almost offended at your statement. “I’m trying, okay?” He then smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the fruity scent of your shampoo. “Besides, I have an amazing girlfriend to remind me, am I right?”

“Yeah yeah.” You brush him off, feeling the light grow darker in a particular section of the path, and that’s when you know you’ve reached the place you’ve been walking towards. There’s a bench placed in this place too — it’s the perfect spot for hidden conversations and maybe, kisses, because the chicken wire is completely hidden by trees, making this spot invisible from the outside.

“There it is.” You point out and Chan follows in pursuit, dusting the seat off for you slightly. Once you’ve sat down, you feel your cheeks burn, because the events that take place once the both of you find this spot has been engrained in your mind at this point. They’re the kind that get you flustered every time you see Chan in the JYP building the next day.

The chirping of insects is so much more intense here, yet you don’t even hear it when Chan puts an arm on your shoulder, gently sweeping his thumb against the material of your overcoat, a soft smile taking over his lips as your eyes lock.

A gush of wind then sweeps past you, the chill in the air higher over here than near the entrance. You lean into Chan and he gets the idea immediately, pulling his coat over the both of you as you snuggle into his shoulder. He’s warm, so warm, so cozy, all you want to do is melt into his embrace and stay. Stay locked in this position you’ve grown accustomed to and found yourself in many times, with the gentle murmur of wind and chirping resounding all around you, almost like you’re trapped in utopia. You want to stay right here, but unfortunately, time runs fast.

“It’s cold.” He comments, and you let the words settle into the air.

“You’re warm.”

At that, Chan feels his smile widen genuinely, his grip on your shoulders tightening just the slightest before he trails up to tangle his fingers with your hair. You feel yourself tense before melting further, lifting your head up to look into his eyes, and my gosh, you can see the whole galaxy in them. His eyes are more sparkly, more lustrous than the clear night sky that lies above him, though the combined visual is truly enough to take your breath away.

“Always for you.”

One second, you feel his hand gently hold your chin and tip your head up, and the next, he leans to press his lips to your own. A mixture of warmth, fuzziness and nervousness bubbles inside you, mostly because you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re in the park — pitch black with dim lighting, yes, but still a public space.

Well, blame it on you for telling your partner you wanted thrill in your life when you were on your first date. It wasn’t a regular occurrence when you and Chan had the idea of meeting up at the park every Saturday midnight, kissing each other at midnight in a park where the trees were barely covering the partitions. Quite frankly, you have no idea when this whole thing started, all you know is that it became quite a frequent occurrence to go home with your cheeks feeling warm and your thumbs fidding with the collar of your shirt.

Your hands stay frozen on your lap and your brain fills with white noise. His lips feel so, so soft against your own as you basically melt against him. You can feel your knees go weak even though you’re sitting down, and Chan’s hands immediately grip your arms as though to cage you from your surroundings. Being in his arms seems like a whole other world to you. They surround you like that warm whiff of air when you get back home after a cold day at work, lock you against his body and protect you against any negativity that may threaten to look your way. Being in his arms, you feel like you’re in a cage you never want to get out from. A cage in which you are complete, you are content, you are loved.

And so, you gently press your palm to his cheek, running his thumb against the high end of his cheekbone, humming when you feel the soft skin underneath. His lips linger against your own for two seconds before he pulls away, feeling your delicate touch against his cheek. Then, he slowly turns to brush his lips against your palm, leaving a soft kiss there, and my god, you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. It’s too much for you to handle, his gestures are too sweet, to loving for you to not turn into a flustered mess.

He leans in once again, and this time, you cup his cheeks, pulling him closer until your lips meet and move in a synchrony of pure bliss. The hum he lets out is your favorite kind of music, it always build up the want for you to hear more. It’s just a pure expression of love that the both of you share, erasing every memory of anything else except each other. You love him, he loves you. That is all, and that is enough.

You never really knew that the man who wore his heart on his sleeve would end up meaning so much to you, but now that he’s yours, you never want to let him go.

It seems very practiced, owing to the countless times you’ve done this before, yet making your heart flutter all the same when the words “I love you” leave his lips in a hushed whisper. Only you’re allowed to hear those words, that tone, that beaming smile that pulls at his lips when his eyes meet your own even in this darkness. Even in this darkness, he thinks you look absolutely stunning, and all he wants to do is tell you how much he loves you over and over again. Well, that’s love. And love is an amazing thing to experience, you can say for sure.

You let yourself smile into the kiss before leaving a quick peck and pulling away, feeling him do the same before opening his eyes and gazing at your features. You shyly look to the side, noticing the leaves that sway gently where the gentle wind hits them.

Even though the atmosphere is cold, you feel fuzzy and warm when Chan giggles, sparing a quick look to his watch before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Come on, we have some time before leaving, we can play on the swings.”

Oh, he knows the child in you too well.

When you’re done swinging the swings and collecting some flowers that seem fresh, you circle the route of of the park and back to the entrance, it’s already one in the morning. Most — especially your group members — would argue that the both of you should’ve been sleeping by now, owing to your hectic schedule that leaves you weary by the end of the day. But you tell them sometimes, just to get that one hour to spend with your lover, you’re willing to make the sacrifice — and seeing the loving, misty glint in your eyes, they understand.

“So, I guess... I’ll see you tomorrow?” Chan says, and you kick the air gently before pulling your mask over your face. Seeing you, he does the same.

“Yeah, you’ll be in your studio, right? I can drop by.”

“Yeah. So, um...” You and Chan can never seem to ever part ways once your quality time with each other comes to a halt, the both of you want to reach out and embrace, and never leave. You often wonder what lead to your silent life being plagued with the essence of love, but then you see Chan, and you smile when you realise the answer.

And so, as if trying to hold onto the moment, freeze time a bit, you turn to him and pull him into a hug. He immediately responds and wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on your neck as you sway from side to side. The road is quiet with the occasional vehicle speeding past, but you pay no attention to it. All you feel is Chan’s welcoming arms, his familiar smell that clouds your senses and makes you feel relaxed than ever.

“I love you, so much.” You murmur, not even sure if he’s able to hear it, but he does. He always does.

“I love you too.”

At that, you try to pull away to look into his eyes one last time, but Chan doesn’t let you, pulling his arms tighter across you and holding you close.

You laugh. “Chan.”

“Yes?” He drags the word and smirks mischievously.

“I have to go back to the dorms, and so do you.” You remind. “It’s late.”

“Mmh, alright.” He says, straightening himself from the embrace but not quite letting go yet. “But give me one more kiss before you go.”

You raise an eyebrow before looking around. While the interior of the park does have trees and stuff to cover the walls, the entrance doesn’t, and that sparks some nervousness within you, though you aren’t exactly worried. You’ve gotten away with stuff like this before, when either of you gets clingy and wants that one last lingering moment before you go your separate ways.

You lean in slowly and he just stands there, waiting for you to kiss him with that smile that he just can’t contain when he looks at you. When you pull both your masks down and your lips meet, it’s only for one tiny peck. You then quickly pull away and pull your mask over your face again, and Chan, though giggling furiously at the way he can see you’ve gone a little warm at the action, does the same.

You then bid goodbye and walk your way back home, the warmth that lingers all over skin so, so soothing to your mind. It’s like someone took away all your worries, leaving you in a bubble of contentment. It’s almost surprising how in the grand scheme of things, one person could stumble into your way and completely take your breath away, all because of the word we call love. You’ve realised how love means so much to you after Chan entered your life, and you don’t seem to be changing that idea any time soon.

When you’re almost close to home, your phone dings with a message, with the sender id “channieeee <3″. Instantly, you click on the message.

channieeee <3: so channieeee <3: same time tomorrow? channieeee <3: pls 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 pls pls pls pls-

A dizzy, pure smile captures your expression, and so, not wanting to delay your plans to meet your lover again, you reply.

y/n: same time tomorrow, then 🥺💞 love you <3

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

230 notes · View notes

danniburgh · 3 years

Text

A million little times. (Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: You scourged yourself for starting it and then having the audacity of asking for more.

You fell in love, he didn’t love you, yet you were willing to let him ruin you a million little times.

Word count: +5.2k

Warnings: welp this IS Dave York, but somehow came out softer than we’re used to lmao, SMUT SMUT SMUT minors BEGONE, some dirty talk, infidelity (not condoning it), some of reader’s and Dave’s dialogues may get you uncomfortable as they talk about possessiveness and HINTS of doing things against one’s will.

A/N: look guys, i don’t know what came onto me but i wanted two things, to write about our dear suburban murder daddy (because i love him and i love the dave york pit) and write something HEAVILY based on illicit affairs by my dearest ty ty. So here it is, this is more based on the bridge and the chorus of the song because those lines just do stuff to me, hope you like it :)

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

“I’m going out” you said, zipping up your hoodie, heading for the door.

“Where the fuck are you going? it’s pouring outside,” your roommate questioned from the sofa she was lounging on, looking at you then at the window, she could see a lightning at the distance.

You grabbed your car keys and an umbrella from the small rack you kept by the door, more to make her stop questioning you than to actually use it outside.

“Somewhere” you replied without looking at her.

“Are you gonna see him? again?” she stood up and walked towards you, you rolled your eyes, she knew you too well “I thought you… dumped him”

“I did” you muttered, looking at your running shoes, knowing that if you held her really heavy judging gaze she would pull out the truth from you. You never left him, but you were about to.

“Then why the fuck are you going to see him?” she crossed her arms on her chest and you felt a tug on your stomach and bit your lip “holy shit” she made you look at her by grabbing your chin with her fingers and lifting your face “oh c’mon dude, seriously?”

“I’m gonna break up with him today!” you told her, almost whining.

“There’s nothing to break up!” she dropped her hand and let out an exasperated sigh, you knew she was right “he’s married! he’s older!”

“Don’t you think I don’t fucking know that?” you spat at her. She rolled her eyes.

“You had tried to end things with that man four times now,” she sounded tired, she wasn’t scolding you anymore, she was trying to remind you “what is he doing to you? Fuck, you’re not like this!”

You dropped your eyes to the floor again. He was doing so much; he was a lot to take. That man was killing you inside and taking away everything you were, he was eating your soul and you were letting him.

He was incredibly overwhelming, astonishingly overpowering, he suffocated you in the most delicious way; he was exhausting and demanding and knew you thoroughly, inside and out. He was too much and not enough. He was never nearly enough. And that was consuming you.

“You don’t really wanna know,” you said “but I’m gonna end things... today, I promise”

“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” she murmured, going around you to open the door “I really hope you know what you’re doing”

“I am” you turned around and walked out. She called your name before closing the door.

“Please, be careful” you nodded instantly, not knowing if she knew something else you hadn’t told her or if she was just referring to the terrible weather outside. “good luck,” and she closed the door.

You stood in the hallway for a few seconds. Her last two words were weighing heavily in your mind, and you wondered again if she knew something. She couldn’t, but it wouldn’t be at all surprising. But you were grateful, you needed good luck. With Dave York, you always needed the luck on your side.

You parked the car and turned off the ignition. It was already dark, the only light that softly illuminated the inside of the car was the pink and blue led lights of the motel’s signboard, and the thick raindrops hitting the windshield made a gloomy, unsettling symphony that invaded your ears and was starting to drill inside your brain.

You hesitated to send him a text that read im here, but did it anyway, and waited there for his text back as you always did, he would tell you which room you needed to go to and how long you had to wait for him.

Because he always made you wait. He made sure you knew he was the one making time for you in his so full schedule and you had to be available for him at any time, any day he wanted.

You wanted to leave; you were considering just turning back on the ignition, reverse the car out of the parking lot and go back home.

Were you seriously thinking about standing him up?, you couldn’t do that, not to him. You knew he was capable of driving all the way to your apartment, kick off the door and fuck you senseless as a punishment.

He was too much and you couldn’t take it, that’s why you wanted it to stop.

Yet you received his text almost right away, he was already waiting for you inside. That made you anxious, because he never did that.

You got out of the car and ran to the stairs, not minding getting wet as the distance from the parking lot to the covered hallway was not very long. You tried to control your breathing as it hitched when you reached the room with the number 2B on the white door and you failed.

The door opened before you could even raise your hand to knock, and there he was. In all his clean, broad, stiff glory.

“Hi” was the only thing you could breathe out, his eyes wandered through your body from the running shoes you slipped on when you got his i want to see you text, to the black leggings you were already wearing that he liked too much and your crimson hoodie you grabbed from the laundry pile on the floor of your room.

His face was unreadable as always, but somehow after all the time you’ve been… what you were, you knew he wasn’t very fond of the ensemble you had put together.

“Dave?” you broke the silence, he looked back at you and moved to the side to let you into the room. Once you got in, he swiftly closed and locked the door and in one long step he was pressing his chest against your back and his half hardened cock against your ass, ripping a whimper out of your throat.

“I missed you, baby,” his voice was deep and hungry in your ear, his hands were hot and heavy roaming around your hips and your stomach, one of them traveled quickly under your hoodie and the tank top you were wearing and cupped your breast, he liked you better when you weren’t wearing a bra “I missed these tits” he pressed an open mouthed kiss on your jaw and a moan left your body without your permission, his other hand was about to snake inside your leggins when you grabbed his wrist and stopped it.

“Dave” you breathed, feeling his smirk on the skin of your neck, his hand on your chest kneaded the flesh and his fingers played with your nipple. You were wet and for the first time in god knows how long you didn’t like it.

“Say my name again” he ordered. You shook your head trying to focus.

“Dave, stop” your voice was thin but sharp and stung into him exactly like a needle. He stopped his movements but didn’t remove his hands from your body.

“What do you mean stop?” he grunted, still in your ear you tried to move your head away from his lips, to move your body away from him but his embrace was tight and it was too overwhelming for you to form a coherent sentence.

“I want this to stop” the words left your mouth before you could really measure the weight of them.

Then and only then Dave broke all contact with you, and even there, your body shivered at the loss of his heat.

“Again with that shit?” he grunted out, you looked down and tried to regain your composure “you need to understand something, baby” he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him “you’re mine” he cupped your face with both hands and pressed his mouth with yours hoarsely, your hands instinctively placed themselves on his chest and you tried to push him away “your mouth is mine” he growled, his lips traveled to your neck and he bit the tender flesh over the jugular, making you whine “this neck is mine” one of his hands snaked down and he cupped your breast over the thick fabric of the hoodie “these tits are mine” that same hand traveled further down and around your body and he fisted your buttcheek, you started trembling “this ass in mine” you shook your head again, his hand gripped your chin and you felt his fingers digging on your cheek, a shaky moan escaped you when he palmed your pussy over the leggings “this cunt is mine” he moved your head and made you look at him in the eyes. Lust and anger had darkened his brown hard eyes “you’re all mine and you’re not leaving me”.

“I’m not yours” you breathed out on his hand and when you thought his eyes couldn’t look at you worse, they hardened even more.

“No?” he pulled your head, making your forehead clash with his “are you telling me you’re not?”

When had you become so scared of him?

You felt a familiar sting on your throat and your lower lip started trembling.

“Don’t even think about crying right now” he spat, his voice was two octaves lower than it normally is and a tear slipped out. He grumbled and lick it away off your cheek “even your tears are mine”

“Please,” you pleaded “Dave, please”

“Dave please” he mocked you and his hand moved to your neck, your breath hitched and you closed your eyes, waiting for him to squeeze “why do you wanna leave me?”

The question lingered in the tight space between your faces and you gulped hard, trying to understand if it was just a rhetorical or an actual question. The silence fell heavy and the gloomy symphony the rain was making had stopped outside.

He stood there, crazily close to you, his hand around your neck and the other grabbing your wrist. He was waiting for you to respond and you were trying to gather all your thoughts. You weren’t sure if your reasons were going to be enough for him, but you needed to try.

“Can you please let go of me?” you asked him softly, opening your eyes to meet his. “please”

His hands left your body, and he sighed, visibly tired, and you knew you had little time to try to explain to him everything you wanted before he got desperate and tried to fuck you again.

“Sit” he ordered, you stepped backwards and the back of your knees hit the mattress, you sat and he stood in front of you, crossing his arms on his chest, just waiting for you to begin.

“I–I want more” you mumbled, dropping your gaze yet again to avoid his heavy eyes on you “and you can’t give it to me”

“What more do you want?” he walked to you and his body heat made your eyes close

“You” you let out, feeling your eyes fill with tears again and your chest stung when he let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’ve got me” his voice was rough, you shook your head.

“No, I don’t” you stood up “fuck, Dave, you’re married!” you panted, his arms dropped and he just stared at you.

“Sit down!”

“Drop it!” you cut him off “you have kids!” and the sudden realization that he didn’t care about that as he looked at you with a serious but blank expression made you want to scream “and I’m what? your relief?”

“Listen to me–” he started, you shook your head.

“No, stop!” you blinked your tears away “and I think I might be sick because I–I think I love you”

You saw his eyes shift, his strong, inexpressive facade fell for a few seconds as his brow furrowed slightly. And against your will, it gave you the smallest hint of hope.

No, he doesn’t love you, he will never love you.

“And you’re consuming me, Dave,” you let out “I don’t like the person I am when I’m with you”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that” you begged, wiping the tears that had fallen down your cheeks “I’m a mess, Dave” you sobbed out “I let you take over my life!”

He gave a step towards you and you lifted your palm to make him stop.

“I let you control every single aspect of my life, I’m such an idiot,” he shook his head “yes! I am be–because I’m still here! I’m letting you ruin me yet another time!”

He called your name roughly, and you shivered at the sound of it in his voice. There had been a long time since he last used your name.

“I’m not gonna let you leave,” he drawled, his voice still low. He walked towards you again and grabbed your wrists “you’re not walking out on me, you hear me?” your face quirked in pain and he let go of one of your wrists and moved his hand up to wipe your tears with the back of his fingers “you knew what you were getting into,” he cupped your face “I’m not letting you go and you will take what I give you,” he closed the distance between you.

You knew this would happen; you knew he wouldn’t accept it; you were tired. He was exhausting.

His lips were soft and warm against yours and for a moment, his touch on your face made you feel cared for.

“For how long?” you asked on his lips, he moved back to look at you with a frown “how long will you keep me?”

Were you really agreeing to this? Were you just about to take it? He was basically forcing you at that point and you were really just… embracing it?

“You really want out?” you saw him studying your face, his eyes traveled around your pained expression and you saw them flash in front of you, you blinked away the tears that had gathered in your eyes and nodded.

“You’re destroying me,” you whispered.

“How am I destroying you?” his question sounded genuine, as if he was surprised at your revelation.

“Don’t you know?” you saw him shaking his head slowly “think about it Dave, you’re too overwhelming, too apprehensive, too rough, too much,”

“You like it” he let out, almost as if he was reminding you of it.

“That’s the thing, I love it,” you whined out “I love you and you don’t love me and all thi–”

“Who says I don’t?” he cut you off, you widened your eyes.

“What?” your voice roughened and his jaw tightened.

“Don’t think for me,” he spat, his hands moved to your shoulders “if I’m telling you I won’t let you leave it’s not because I want to keep you against your will,” you sighed “it’s because I just want you,” he licked his lips and breathed out heavily “I get it, it’s not fair, I won’t leave my family,” you felt your lids drop and a whimper left your body “I can’t give you what I already gave to them,” you felt your legs weaken and his hands slid from your shoulders to your waist as he held you “I can just give you this, and if you won’t take it, then go and I won’t bother you again”

“Fuck,” you breathed out, he broke the embrace he had you in and you sat on the bed slowly, hand resting on your thighs, head hanging low, tears slipping out. He kneeled in front of you. His face was blank again, but there was something behind his eyes that told you he didn’t want you to leave him.

For a moment you let yourself remember how everything had started. It was an autumn night, months and months before that felt like years.

You were getting into a coffee shop and he was heading out; you bumped into each other and he spilled his black coffee all over your beige coat. You had giggled, and he was almost mortified, rambling about paying the dry cleaning and buying you another coat, he even gave you his card and offered to pay for your coffee order. You told him over and over not to worry and accepted his drink offer with the condition of drinking it with him. He introduced himself and asked for your name; you had seen the golden ring in his left hand right away and yet you still flirted with him because you didn’t think he would take onto your advances; he told you he had enjoyed your company and asked for your number when you were saying goodbye.

He called you for the first time the next day and asked you out. He proposed it as two new friends getting to know each other, but the whole dinner he was eating you with his eyes. You were enjoying the way he was looking at you and talking to you and how his hand slid on the table to brush your knuckles, and when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere else you didn’t hesitate in saying yes.

That night he fucked your brains out in a nice hotel suite he had previously reserved, because he knew you wouldn’t say no.

And from there you opened up to him, he taught you new things about your body you had never known; he made you cum in so many ways you never knew were possible; he kissed you and took your breath away; he ate you out like a thirsty man drinking a glass of water after three days on the dessert; he fucked you like it was the first and the last time.

He had memorized every single thing you liked; he knew your body in ways you didn't and he let you get to know his so you could give him as much pleasure as he wanted.

Dave soon enough became the owner of every single thought and free hour you had.

He invaded your mind and your body in the most delicious way; he took over and appropriated your whispers, your sighs, your shudders, your orgasms and every gasp and moan that came out of your mouth. He was rough and broad and hard, and he praised you as you liked it, and he gave into your demands and kinks as much as you gave into his.

He became everything you wanted, and he possessed you in so many ways you stopped going out with friends to meet with him. You changed your schedule as he asked and accommodated yourself to please his needs. Dave occupied your life and you let him.

Yet you knew nothing about him.

Of course he told you he was married. But you found out he had two daughters when you picked up his wallet from the floor and saw the picture of them he had inside. He never told you their names or their ages. He never told you what he did for a living or where he lived.

And after some time he stopped taking you into nice hotel suites and started meeting you in cheap motels. He started being rougher, and you started loving him.

And every orgasm he took out of you and every sigh and moan and whimper and gasp came out of you with so much love you knew he could feel it, yet he said nothing and made sure you didn’t ask for more.

You didn’t know at what point it became unbearable, unsustainable, incredibly hard to meet him. You started thinking about his wife, about his daughters, about the things he had with them and not with you.

You scourged yourself for starting it and then having the audacity of asking for more.

Then you asked him to stop all of it for the first time, and he just brushed it off and fucked you with his fingers and his mouth and his cock until you forgot the idea.

The second time you asked, he took you to dinner after having you ride him for two hours and ripped out of you so much pleasure you thought it was going to change something.

But it didn’t.

And so on.

And now he was kneeling in front of you while you sobbed your eyes out and he was still as overwhelming and overpowering as he always was, yet his body radiated so much heat you wanted to rip his clothes off and show him how much he had made you love him.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he muttered, taking your hands and intertwining them with his “you keep roaming around my mind like it’s your job to invade my every thought,” you looked at him and his eyes pulled something inside you that didn’t have a name until that same moment “I think about you when I’m fucking my wife, and I have to stop myself from calling her by your name,” two thick tears escaped your eyes and he took a hand out of the entanglement on your lap to brush them off softly “I need you,”

He said he needed you and you believed him. You needed him too, even though he was never going to fully be yours, even though he would never give you what you wanted and the cheap motels or the nice hotel suites and the sporadic dinner dates would never be nearly enough.

He said he needed you and you needed him more. More than he could ever need you. You needed him and wanted him and loved him so bad you were willing to take in whatever he wanted to give you from himself, even if it was scraps and crumbles of an already taken and loved man.

“Fuck, Dave,” you looked at him, his eyes deep and mysteriously bewitching, and you knew instantly, you would let that man break you in infinite pieces, you would let him use you and manhandle you as he pleased and you would let him ruin you over and over again.

“I need you” he repeated, with another connotation. He needed your body, and you needed his. You let out a heavy sigh and lifted your hands to cup his face, he immediately pushed himself up and took your lips on his.

His kiss was eager, anxious and hungry. His hands moved to your waist, and he slowly made you lay on the bed, leaning down with you to hover over your body with his knees on each side of your thighs on the mattress, without breaking the kiss.

Dave slid a hand inside your hoodie and started wandering around the skin of your belly and your chest. His hand was still warm and his touch was softer than it had been the last few dozen times he had touched you.

You let out a soft whimper when his tongue licked your lower lip and gained access to your mouth; he let you put your hands around his neck and your fingers started playing with the short hair on his nape.

“Your lips are mine” he whispered against your lips, you smiled softly. Of course.

“Yours, ”

His hand inside your hoodie moved to your breast, and he started playing softly with your nipple, you felt your arousal gathering inside your thighs.

You felt a tug inside your lower belly when he moved his mouth to your neck and started leaving kisses on the soft skin, Dave hadn’t kissed your neck like that since the first time he had fucked you.

“Your neck is mine” his breathing hit the wet spot he had kissed, and you moaned.

“Yours,”

His other hand played with the hem of your leggings, and he licked your earlobe.

“Stand up, let me take off your clothes,” he whispered into your ear, it wasn’t an order but it wasn’t a plea, you moaned and he moved back to help you stand off the bed.

You stood in front of him and he grabbed the hem of the hoodie; he lifted it up, and you raised your arms for him to remove it from your body; he dropped it on the floor next to him and did the same with the tank top you were wearing underneath. His eyes stayed glued to your breasts, and he raised his hands to cup both of them. He walked to you and kissed you again, kneading the flesh softly as he breathed in the sighs you were letting out.

“Your tits are mine” he whispered on your lips.

“Yours” your hands moved to his chest, and you started to unbutton his shirt nimbly.

He let you slide his shirt off and drop it on the floor. You moved to his belt and unbuckled it.

Dave snaked his hands from your chest to your waist and then around your body to caress both buttcheeks over the fabric of the leggings.

“Your ass is mine” he whispered, you nodded as you unzipped his pants and slid your hands from his waist through his briefs to his own ass and knead him for a second. Dave looked at your face and you smiled at him softly, he saw your puffy red eyes from crying and leaned down to kiss you again.

For a moment you let yourself forget all the powerfully negative things you had felt about the whole situation. His lips being soft and warm enough for you to blank your mind.

You wanted to ask him why was he being so soft with you, but you didn’t want him to stop.

He moved his hands from your ass back to the waistband of your leggings and pulled down along with your underwear, breaking the kiss only to help you get out of them and out of your shoes.

“Lay down” he murmured, again not ordering yet not pleading. And you did as you were told.

Dave removed the rest of his clothes and grabbed your knees, spreading you open in front of him, he saw you wet and his hand trailed all the way up your thigh; he slid two fingers across your slit; you gasped at the contact and your hips circled, trying to get closer to his hand.

He leaned down and supported himself on one hand, his knees between your legs, while bringing the hand in between your legs to your mouth and spread your arousal on your lips.

You were about to lick them to taste yourself when his lips clashed into yours, hungrier than before, both of you tasting your juices in the kiss.

Your hand reached down between your bodies to grab his hardened cock and pump him a few times, his kiss became sloppy and wet as you played with the pre semen on the tip, he let out a grumble when you choked the head with your thumb and your index around it and he bit your lower lip when you squeezed it.

He took your wrist as he broke the contact of your lips and removed your hand from his cock; you knew what was coming and you spread your legs wider to give him space.

Dave lined himself up to your slit and played the tip up and down from your entrance to your clit and pressed it on the bundle of nerves, ripping a loud moan out of you.

“Dave, please,” you whispered, he was looking at you, his brown eyes were less hard and less dark and you moved your hips to try to get him closer to you.

“What, baby,” he asked, low voiced.

“Fuck me,” you said, he gave you half a smile as he slid himself into your core, his hand gripping your hip. You let out a sigh in relief as he painfully slowly bottomed up.

He stayed inside for a few seconds for your walls to stretch and get used to his thickness.

“Your cunt is mine” he whispered, looking into your eyes, you nodded and he kissed your temple “you’re still so tight, baby,” he pulled out almost entirely and thrusted into you slowly “so tight and wet as the first time I fucked you”

You curled your arms around his shoulders when he hid his face in the crook of your neck and let out a moan when he circled his hips inside you and hit ever so slowly that sweet spot that only his cock could find.

“Dave, shit,” you gasped when he thrusted into you harder “no–nobody could,” he pounded into you again “e–ever fuck me like you do,”

You felt his smirk on your skin and he licked and kissed the skin that was within reach of his mouth, moving his hips faster until he found a pace that made you squirm and whine under him.

“You’re all mine, baby,” he breathed on your ear “say you’re mine,”

“I’m yours, Dave,” his hand snaked from your hip to the spot you were joined and he gathered some of your arousal with his fingers, he started circling his wet fingers on your clit and you whimpered “oh my–god, Da–Dave,”

“Fucking say you’re mine,” he moaned again in your ear as his hips moved faster “you’re mine to take, mine to use mine and only mine,” his thrust became deeper, “your body and your mind are mine, say it,” his fingers played your clit nimbly.

“Shit,” you hissed out, closing your eyes and clenching around him, he moaned your name “I’m yours, Dave, I’m all yours,” you cried out as you felt your core on fire and the known tide of sensations drowned you from the inside of your lower belly “I’m so close,” you panted.

“Cum around my cock, baby,” he moved faster and his fingers slid into your pussy almost by themselves and you felt so full by his cock and his hand you felt your orgasm hit you like a giant wave in the middle of a storm.

You cried out his name once, twice, three times as he fucked you through your high chasing his own orgasm.

He moaned your name again, and he lifted his head from your neck to kiss you. His fingers were still inside you along with his cock and he was so close he could see white spots behind his closed eyes.

“Dave please come inside me,” you whispered against his lips, he kissed you again and you bit his lower lip, he opened his eyes to see your post orgasmic smile and your glassy eyes “claim me, fill me up, baby,” you pleaded “please, I want to feel your cum,” he moaned again and pounded deep once, twice and you felt his hot seed spilling inside your core.

“Fuck,” his breath hitched “holy shit, baby,” he pulled out his hand out of your pussy as his cock finished spurting and he licked his fingers clean. You smiled at him and he stuffed them into your mouth. You giggled, licking his saliva and the rest of your juices off.

He watched you recover your breath, and you traced his clean shaven jawline with your fingers. He moved his head to kiss your palm without losing eye contact.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” he muttered against your hand.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m gonna make some changes,” he breathed. You nodded, “but you're not leaving,”

“I'm not leaving,”

“Good,”

#Dave York #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york might be the love of my life #again dave york can fucking wreck me and id say thanks #dave york fanfic #dave york fanfiction #dave york the equalizer #the equalizer #the equalizer fanfic #david york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters

238 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Dialogue heavy part. Also, I plan to make a masterpost with a link in my description so all the parts are easy to find in one place, and I can keep adding to it.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Harry spent most of the day with you Sunday, and went back to his place a little before dinner time. You woke up early Monday so you could get your workout in at home, and showered. Feeling fresh, you were thankful you had plenty of slacks to wear for the week. You hated wearing skirts or dresses on your period. You couldn’t wait to see Niall to ask him about Sarah.

You stop at the coffee shop and grab yours and Niall’s coffees. You get up to your office, and go right to his. He’s just settling in, and smiles at you.

“Hey there, lady killer.” You said handing him his coffee.

“Shh.” He looks around and closes his door. “Did she tell you anything?”

“She said she had a great time with you. Have you texted or called?”

“We’ve texted. I could kill you for not setting me up sooner.”

“I could say the same thing to you about Harry.”

“Fine, we’re even.”

“Besides, she was in between guys, I didn’t even know she was available. She raved about you, so I hope you guys see where it goes.”

“I’m hoping to see her Tuesday after work for a movie.”

“Oh, nice.” You smile at your friend. “You know if it goes well, the four of us could go on double dates, how much fun would that be?”

“Not so much.” Your face falls.

“Why not? I feel like we never hang out anymore.”

“Well, you’ve been busy, which is perfectly fine. And, I don’t really like double dates with Harry. I feel like I have to compete with him or something.” He shrugs, sipping his coffee.

“Compete with what?”

“I don’t know, everyone finds him so charming.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now. Sarah may decide the only thing she likes about you is your tongue.” You tease. Niall nearly chokes on his hot drink.

“She, she told you?”

“Only a couple of details.” You lie, you didn’t want to embarrass him. “It was all good things though, she was very impressed.”

“I honestly have to thank Harry for help in that department.”

“So I’ve learned.” You say blushing.

“Hold on a second.” He sits down next to you in the chairs across from desk. “Did you two get a little frisky this weekend?”

“Maybe a little.” You play with the top of your coffee lid.

“How do you feel?”

“Safe.” You lock eyes with him. “I only let him do…that. I didn’t let him use his hands or anything.”

“What made you want to do it?”

“Honestly, I was curious.” You shrug. “And I was just feeling really close to him. He, um, asked me to be his girlfriend.” Niall jumps up with a huge smile on his face.

“That just made my whole morning!”

“You don’t think it’s too soon to be official?”

“Not at all, in fact, Harry hasn’t had an actual girlfriend in like two years. He really does like you, (y/n).” You can’t help but giggle at his praise. “You haven’t changed your relationship status.” He says checking Facebook.

“I honestly hadn’t thought of it since he doesn’t have a Facebook.” You say getting up. “I’ll ask him if he minds if I change it.”

“Why would he mind?”

“I don’t know, then it’ll like really be official. Everyone will know I’m seeing someone. I don’t know if I’m ready for my parents and siblings to be up my ass.”

��Fair point. Okay, I’ll tell you what, things go well with Sarah, and all four of us can hang out some time.”

“I would love that.”

You go to your office, and get some work done. Lunch rolls around quick. Before you can go meet Niall you see a name on your phone. It’s Kate.

“Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Um, what’s up?”

“Nothing, just saw the pictures Rachel posted of the three of you. Thanks for the invite.”

“You wouldn’t have come anyways.”

“So, it’s still nice to be included.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one who made the plans, so take it up with them.”

“You’re my best friend, you should’ve texted me.”

“Kate, I’m at work.”

“You’re on your lunch break.” There’s an awkward pause. “Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone new?”

“Because it’s still really new.”

“Still, I hate hearing things from other people about you.”

“Who told you?”

“Rachel. She said some guy showed up to the club, and his friend took Sarah home or something. Apparently he’s super-hot.”

“You’ve met Niall before. Remember? He came with me to your wedding?”

“No, I mean the guy you brought.”

“His name is Harry.”

“Harry what?”

“Don’t bother looking him up, he doesn’t have a Facebook, and his Instagram doesn’t have any pictures of him.”

“Great, so you’re seeing a serial killer.”

“You could be happy for me. He’s really into me.”

“I just think you need to be more cautious.”

“I am. We haven’t done anything…serious.”

“Define serious.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations.” Usually, you and your friends were very open about sex, but lately it was hard to talk to Kate about these things.

“(y/n), you were practically ra-“ You cut her off before she could finish the word.

“Stop it! Harry is nothing like Jake!” Niall walks into your office horrified. You wave him in, and put your finger up to signal you’re almost done. “Kate, I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Fine. Look, Kevin and I are spending the weekend in the city, and we were wondering if you’d wanna hang out. Maybe the four of us can do a double date.”

“You know, it would be nice if just us girls could get together. You never come here alone.”

“You know how Kev is.”

“Possessive, controlling.”

“Enough. Do you want to see each other or not?”

“Of course I do. I’ll see what Harry’s up to. When did you want to get together?”

“Friday night? Dinner at our spot?”

“Alright, I’ll text you later, I need to go eat.” You hang up in a huff and nearly throw your phone across the room, but you stop yourself. You look at Niall.

“Was that Kate?”

“Yeah! God, she is so fucking infuriating. She has no problem making me feel bad about my past, but the second I call her out on something.” You try to steady tour breathing. “And now I have to see her this weekend.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I miss her, Niall. She used to be so much fun.”

“Well, if you bring Harry, just be prepared, he’s not going to let someone speak to you like that.”

“Great, dinner and a show.”

You show up to Harry’s after the gym. You drive there sort of on autopilot. You let him know you’re outside, and he buzzes you in. You have an open sweatshirt on over a sports bra. Your hair is up in a messy bun, and you’re wearing cropped leggings. You only went to lift weights since you got your cardio in this morning.

“This is a nice surprise.” He says kissing you on the cheek. He makes you stand in front of him to get a good look at you. “Sexy outfit.” Your cheeks flush. “Want something to eat? I was just making dinner.”

“I don’t want to impose, love.”

“S’not an imposition.” He smiles. “ I always make extra.” You walk over to the stove to see what he’s making. “Nothing special, just roasted chickpeas to top my salad.”

“It smells delicious. I’ll have a little.”

“Good, go sit.” He makes a plate for you, and sits down at the table with you. “So, what do I owe this honor on a school night?” You giggle.

“Well, I got a call from my friend Kate today.”

“The one you miss who’s married?”

“Correct.” He nods. “Her and Kevin, her husband, are coming into town this weekend, and she wanted to know if we’d have dinner with them.”

“We huh?”

“Mhm.”

“I didn’t even have a chance to tell her about you. Rachel told her I was seeing someone.”

“What night?”

“Friday.” He takes out his phone and checks his calendar. “Um, yeah that works. I have to work late that night, so if they’re okay with an eight o’clock dinner…”

“That would work well I think. I’m sure they’ll hit traffic. The place we’re going is kind of swanky, so you may want to bring a change of dress clothes with you to work.”

“Alright.”

“Is this okay with you? If you don’t feel comfortable-“ He puts a hand over yours.

“I would love nothing more than to meet more of your friends. Plus, she seems important to you.” He shrugs.

“I have another question?”

“Shoot.”

“So, we’re together.”

“Correct.”

“And typically, when two people make things official, it’s customary for them to change their status online, to let others know they are no longer available.”

“Are you asking me if it’s okay to change your Facebook status?” You smile nervously and he starts laughing. “Go ahead, baby. I mean, s’not like you can tag me in it, so it’ll just say you’re in a relationship.”

“I know, it seems silly. But now that Kate knows, and Sarah and Rachel…I mean, god I haven’t even told my mom.” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So wait to change then.” He takes his phone out. He goes into Instagram, and you get a ping on your phone. “style2294 has requested to follow you?” You smile at him.

“That’s my private Instagram. Told ya it wasn’t really under my name.”

“Very cryptic that you left it as style and not styles. Is that your birthday?” You ask, accepting the request, and follow him back. He accepts.

“Yup.”

“That’s around my half birthday.”

“Wait, don’t tell me.” He thinks for a moment. “August?”

“Bingo.”

“What’s the date?”

“The fourth, ’95.”

“So you like just turned twenty-four only a couple months ago. You young thing.” He teases.

“Oh stop, you’re literally a year and half older than me.” You go to scroll through his pictures, but he stops you.

“Wait to do that until we’re not together, please, some of those pictures are old, and embarrassing.”

“Alright.” You stop to think about your own photos. “I have some embarrassing ones too.”

“I’ll bet.”

“So, Friday, you’re sure?”

“Positive.” He takes both of your empty plates and places them in the sink. “Now then, come here so I can kiss ya.”

You go over to him, and he holds you in his arms, and kisses your cheecks, nose, forehead, and jawline. His hands move down to your bum, and you jump back with a squeak.

“Still got my period.” He gives you a funny look.

“So that means I can’t squeeze that glorious-“ You put your hand over his mouth.

“Please, I’m begging, don’t finish that sentence.” You say looking up at him with big eyes. He smirks at you. “What?”

“Lil horny are we?”

“Harry!”

“You are, aren’t you?”

“It’s not funny!”

“I’m not laughing!”

“Your smile says it all.” You cross your arms over your tender breasts. “It’s the hormones.”

“Sure it is. How were your cramps today?”

“Much better. What you saw yesterday was an anomaly.” You look down at your watch. “I should probably head home now.”

“I’m going to be really busy this week. With the weather still nice, and the leaves just turning, I’ve racked up some freelance stuff. I don’t want you to think I’m ignorin’ ya or anything.” You give me a hug and rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you for letting me know.” You kiss him on the cheek. As you’re about to break the hug he pulls you in, and kisses you on the mouth.

“Didn’t think I’d let ya leave with just a peck on the cheek?”

“What was I thinking?” You kiss him again. “Thanks for dinner.” You say on your way out.

Your period ends Thursday, thank god. Kate texts you saying that eight is perfectly fine for dinner Friday. You and Niall find yourself chatting before you leave for work Friday.

“You never told me how the movie with Sarah went.”

“We never made it to the movie.” He winks at you.

“You dirty dog.” You tease.

“So, tonight is your big double date?”

“Yup, I gotta go home and change.”

“Where are you guys going again? That Italian place?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice. Kate and I used to save up our money once a month to go there when we were in college.”

“Well, I hope it all goes smoothly. I know Harry will be there, but if you need anything, I’m there for you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. I’m seeing Sarah and Rachel with Kate and Kevin tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Sarah told me. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“Dirty, dirty dog.”

You go home, and freshen up. You pull out a red dress. It has a high neckline, but hugs tight around your thighs, accentuating your bum. You know Harry will love it, and Kate won’t be able to say anything because your chest is covered. The back is open, so you opt to not wear a bra. Instead you just tape yourself up. The material is thick enough that you can’t see your piercings through it. You curl your hair and brush it out to create your waves. You put on some red strappy heels, and uber to the restaurant. You want to be able to leave with Harry in his car later.

Kate and Kevin are standing in the lobby of the restaurant, it’s ten of eight. You two smile at each other and take each other in for a big hug. You give Kevin a much smaller embrace.

“You look amazing!” Kate beams at you. “That gym membership is doing wonders for you.”

“The best part is my company pays for it. I think laying off the meat has helped too. I mostly am forced to eat fruit and veggies.” You hear Kevin scoff.

“I still can’t believe you’re a vegetarian. It’s like you crossed over to the darkside.” You flip him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Harry’s a vegan, and I don’t want you making fun of him.”

“What the hell is he supposed to eat here then?”

“He’ll get some gluten free pasta and a salad or something.” You shrug.

“Where is he anyways?” Kate asks.

“It’s only eight now. He said he might run late, he had a really busy work week.”

“What does he do?” Kevin asks.

“He’s a photographer, a highly sought after one at that.” The two look at each other. “He works for a magazine, and does some freelancing on the side.” You take your phone out to show them his professional Instagram.

“Wow, these are actually really good.” Kate says.

“Don’t sound so surprised. Niall wouldn’t have set me up with some idiot.”

“Oh, you two met on a blind date?” Kevin asks. “Kate didn’t tell me the story.”

“That’s because she didn’t tell me the story.”

“Well, you can both hear it soon, when he gets here.”

“I hope it is soon, I don’t want them to give our table up.” Kate says harshly.

You feel a gust of wind, and turn around. Suddenly everything feels like slow motion. Harry walks in with damp hair, accentuating his natural curls. He’s wearing a light blue suit and a white dress shirt. He has brown dress shoes on. He looks heavenly.

“That’s him.” You say to Kate before walking over to greet him. He takes you in his arms, and kisses the top of your head.

“So sorry I’m wait, love, I had to have a shower. I was rolling in dirt all day.” He looks over at Kate and Kevin whose mouths are hanging open. “Hi, I’m Harry.” He sticks his hand out and they each take a turn shaking it. They both furrow their brows at his nails. He must have gotten them done this week because they were now a pastel pink and blue. His forefinger and middle finger were both pink on one hand and the rest blue. The opposite hand had the same, but opposite. He notices them notice. “Right, shall we?”

You all go to the hostess, and she seats you. Harry pulls your chair out for you, and helps you in. He takes his suit jacket off, and puts it over the chair. Kevin and Kate just sit down. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give him a gentle squeeze.

“It’s great to meet you, Harry.” Kate finally says.

“Likewise.” A waiter comes over before anything else can be said.

“Hi folks, I’m Matt, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you all off with a drink?”

“Vodka tonic for me please.” You say.

“Lime?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll have a glass of pinot noir.” Kate says. You frown for a second. She’s drinking, which means she’s still not pregnant.

“I’ll have a corona.” Kevin says.

“I’ll, um, have a gin and tonic.” Harry says.

“Perfect, be back with those in a few.”

Harry squints at the menu trying to see what he can actually eat. Another server brings over some bread and butter, and fills the water glasses. Harry leans into you.

“You look lovely, by the way.” You giggle.

“Thank you.”

“What are you going to eat?”

“Not sure yet. Maybe some ravioli?”

“So, Harry, (y/n), tells us you’re a vegan?” Kevin asks.

“Um, yeah.”

“If we had known we could have gone somewhere else.” Kate says, trying to make you look bad.

“It’s really no problem. There’s actually a lot I can have. They have zucchini noodles it seems. I’ll probably have that.”

“Don’t you feel hungry all the time without the protein?” Kevin asks.

“Not really, I eat a lot of nuts and beans.”

The waiter comes over with the drinks. He notices Harry’s nails.

“Oh, sir, I don’t mean to sound weird, but I love your nails.”

“Oh, thanks mate.” Harry smiles up at the young boy.

“So, um, did we have a chance to look over the menu?” Everyone nods. “Great, miss?” He nods to you.

“Can I please have the cheese ravioli, and can I have a side of whatever today’s vegetable is?”

“Of course. Sir?”

“I’ll have these zoodles with the roasted vegetables on top. No sauce, please.”

Kevin orders steak tips of course, which nearly makes you gag. Kate orders the raviolis as well. The two of them dig into the bread, and you also have a piece.

“Since the waiter brought it up, can I ask why you paint your nails?” Kevin asks. You want to kick him under the table, but glare at him instead.

“Just something I do for fun.” Harry shrugs. “I’m sure as an oral surgeon, you’re probably not allowed to have yours painted.”

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t. It’s a little girly.”

“Kevin.” You say, warning.

“S’alright.” Harry says. “I know it looks a little weird. But, I don’t necessarily think it’s girly. I like having clean nails. Why should women be the only people allowed to have a manicure?” He sips his drink.

“You can get a manicure without getting your nails painted.” Kate interjects.

“What’s the fun in that?” Kate looks down at his hands.

“The rings are nice.” She says.

“Thanks.”

“Is that an anchor on your wrist?” Kevin asks.

“Yup.” Harry rolls his sleeve a bit so they can better see it. “Can’t remember when exactly I got it, but it was a while ago.” Kate sees the cross on his hand.

“(y/n) is Jewish, you know?” Harry raises an eyebrow at her, then looks at you. “We all are, that’s how we became friends at school.”

“I didn’t know that.” He says looking at you, and smiles. “Guess the mezuzah in your front hall makes more sense now.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“It didn’t come up, Kate.”

“Alright, so, how exactly did you two meet?” Kevin interjects.

“We have a mutual friend that set us up.” Harry rests a hand on your thigh.

“Niall, right?” Kate asks. “He came to our wedding with (y/n).”

“Yup, Niall. He and I were mates in school, and he works with (y/n), obviously.”

“What did you do for a first date?” Kevin asks.

“We went to dinner at that tapas place.” You say, smiling at the memory. “And then after that we just kept seeing each other.” You lean close to him.

The food runner brings all of your plates over. You stare at the steak tips. They smell heavenly, but as soon as you see the juices drip down Kevin’s knife, you find yourself standing up.

“You alright?” Harry asks, slightly standing.

“Yeah, just, um, excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.”

“I’ll go with you.” Kate says standing up.

You two rush to the bathroom, and you splash a little cold water on your face.

“What’s wrong?” She rubs your now clammy back.

“Nothing, I thought I was going to puke. He had to order steak tips?”

“I thought you weren’t an ethical vegetarian.”

“I’m not, Kate, but jesus, I can’t help being absolutely disgusted.”

“Is this because Jake ate steak on your first date? Is it triggering?”

“No! You mentioning his fucking name is triggering.” You turn to face her. “You both could also stop grilling Harry so much. He’s really sweet and you both are judging him. Nail polish on men is becoming more and more popular, it’s really not that fucking weird.” She sighs.

“You’re right, we’ve been rude. I’ll settle down a little. Just please come back and try not to look at his food.”

While you both are in the bathroom, Harry and Kevin wait to eat.

“I hope she’s alright.” Harry keeps his eyes locked on the direction you ran in.

“She’s fine. So, how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“It’s been a month this weekend, actually.”

“I think that’s the longest she’s ever seen someone.” He laughs. “She was pretty wild in college.”

“Who wasn’t?” Harry shrugs off the statement, taking a sip of his drink. He sighs in relief when he sees you walking back to the table, and stands up. Kevin stays seated. “Alright?” He says sitting back down as you do.

“Yeah, just needed to powder my nose.” You keep your eyes locked on your food. Everyone digs in to their own.

“(y/n), I was thinking we could all go back to your place tonight after dinner.” Kate says. “That way we can keep getting to know each other.” She says with a smile.

“Um, sure, we could do that.” You look up at Harry who is giving Kate a funny look. “Does that work for you?”

“Sure does.” He smiles at you.

The waiter comes over and asks if anyone wants dessert, you all say no, and he leaves the check. Harry and Kevin reach for it at the same time.

“Your money’s no good here.” Kevin says. “We asked you both here.” You guess all men have this rule.

“I insist, at least let me split it with you.”

“Sure, we can split it.” They each put their credit cards in, and the wait come by and grabs it. He brings it back in no time, they both sign the slips. Harry leaves some extra cash on the table.

“Where’d you park, love?” He asks putting his jacket on.

“Oh, I didn’t drive here, I took an uber. I figured I’d just leave with you.” You shrug. He smiles and kisses you on the cheek. “Right, so we’ll just meet you guys at her place?”

“Sounds good, see you soon.” Kate says.

You and Harry don’t say much on the car ride to your place. Once you’re inside, you quickly tidy up. He sighs.

“What?” You ask, as you run around.

“Kinda rude to invite herself here, don’t you think?”

“That’s Kate.” You pull up a playlist on your Spotify, and connect it to your Bluetooth. “It’s a late 2000s playlist, should help lighten the mood.” You say, taking your heels off. “They won’t stay long anyways.”

“Kevin is, interesting.”

“He used to be more fun too.”

“He mentioned you used to be wild.” Harry puts his hands on your waist. His touch burns into you. “This is a really nice dress.”

“Thank you, and he’s just talking smack. I did used to party probably a little too much. But who doesn’t when they’re in college?”

“That’s what I said.” The buzzer goes off, and you buzz them in.

“Harry, could you open that bottle of wine for me please?” You ask pointing to the one in the kitchen, as you go to open the door.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” Kate beams at you. “You really should be an interior decorator.”

“Oh stop, you know my Nannie picked everything out.”

“Nannie?” Harry asks.

“My grandmother, I call her Nannie.” You say giving him a peck on the cheek. “You guys want some wine?” You take out four glasses.

“Yes, please.” Kate says. You pour the wine into the glasses.

Kate and Kevin sit on the couch. Harry sits in the large chair adjacent to the couch, and you sit on the arm rest of the chair. He takes his arm, and moves you to sit on his lap. You giggle, and make yourself comfortable.

“So, how did you all meet?” Harry asks.

“Oh god, well (y/n) and I met at an activities fair. We both were looking for a film club.” Kate says. “I think you and Rachel were roommates freshman year right?”

“Yup. Then we met Sarah at that Jewish students meeting, that school had a club for everything. You and I roomed together sophomore year.”

“Awe that was such a good year. Then the four of us lived together our last two years. We met Kev our junior year.”

“And when did you two start dating?”

“Mid-way through our senior year.” She squeezes his hand. Kevin smiles at Kate.

“Yup, and then I stole her away.”

“That’s an understatement.” You say, sipping your wine.

“Excuse me?” Kevin says.

“Nothing, we just barely saw Kate after. You two stopped hanging out with us.” You shrug.

“We were busy.” Kevin says with a smirk.

“Kev, please, don’t flatter yourself.” Kate says, teasing. “You know we had a lot of classes together second semester, we were studying together a lot.”

“You practically moved out of our apartment.” Harry taps his hand on your thigh to the beat of the song playing, and you lean back further into him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice, with how little you slept there.” You shoot daggers at her. “And at least I was staying with the same person every night, not just throwing it around for anyone who would take it.” She takes a large sip of her wine.

“That’s because you got all of that out of your system your freshman year, remember?”

“I do remember, I remember you saying how jealous you were of me.”

“Little did I know there wasn’t much to be jealous of. You’re still bitter that Eric stopped seeing you because he wanted to see me.” You take an even bigger sip of your wine.

“Really? You’re bringing up Eric?”

“You started it.”

“Well, at least I never got an STD!” You stand up and so does Kate. The guys just look at the two of you.

“Kate! For the last time, I did not get scabies from sleeping with someone!”

“Oh no? Then you how else do you get scabies?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t sleep with any dirty guys.”

“Are you sure? Sophomore year you fucked anything with a dick! And you wanna know why we stopped hanging out with the three of you that last year? I told Kev how you felt about him, and he didn’t want to be around you anymore.”

“How I felt about him?” You point at Kevin. “I didn’t have feelings for Kevin, fuck Kevin.”

“Yes you did, you told Sarah that you wanted to fuck him, and you knew I liked him!”

“Well good fucking thing you married him, Kate! And I never told Sarah that, I never wanted to fuck your fucking boyfriend.”

“Then why would she have told me you did?”

“She was probably talking about Kevin from the track team. Did she tell you when she was drunk? She probably got confused. And just like always, instead of you just talking to me about an issue, you let it blow up for no fucking reason.”

“What do you mean like always?”

“You always make mountains out of mole hills, and you always think you know better than everyone else. Guess what, just because you’re married doesn’t make you any better than me.”

“There it is, you’re jealous that I’m living the life that you want.”

“What is there to be jealous of? You never have any fun, Kevin never fucking lets you go out!”

“Stop it.”

“You’re afraid of him, right? You’re afraid he’ll leave you? Personally, I think you could’ve done a lot better than him, but you needed the security right? You’re lonely, and you get mad at us for actually having lives. I didn’t tell you to run off with him, and buy a big fucking house. No one had a gun to your head, you made your choices.”

“Would you shut up!? You’re making me sound like I’m this idiot that can’t make a life for myself. Kevin and I love each other, and you’re just jealous of that because you can’t stand to see a married couple happy.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Ever since your parents separated you haven’t been able to stand the thought of marriage! I think you’re mad at yourself, you’re a slut, just like your mom!” You’re about to raise your hand to Kate, but Harry grabs your wrist.

“Alright”, he turns the music off. “I think that’s about enough of that.”

“Who are you?” She says to him.

“Kate, he’s right, you went too far.” Kevin says standing up.

“I won’t sit here and listen to you talk to my girlfriend like that.”

“Girlfriend? You two just started seeing each other!” She looks at you. “You said you were going to take it slow this time.”

“I did, we are!”

“Then how is he already your boyfriend, Jesus Christ, you are so fucking stupid! You trust people way too easily.” She shakes her head at you. Your blood is boiling, and you go to lunge at her, but Harry wraps his arms around you and holds you back. “Go ahead, let her hit me, it’s what she wants.”

“I think it’s time for you both to leave.” Harry says, still holding onto your shaking body. You steady your breathing, and tap his hands.

“You know something Kate, I know what you’re really mad about.” You smirk.

“What’s that?”

“You’re not actually angry with me, you’re angry at the fact that you married a guy that hasn’t been able to make you orgasm since you met.”

“Woah, what?” Kevin interjects. Kate’s mouth falls open.

“Speechless? That’s a first.”

You don’t register what’s happening until you feel Kate’s hand connect with your cheek. Harry steps in front of you.

“You need to get the fuck out now.” He says to her with dark eyes. You’re holding you’re stinging cheek.

“Have fun with your fru fru boyfriend, and his photos and his painted nails. Let’s see how long this one lasts.”

You don’t say anything, Harry follows them out. He comes back to you, tears streaming down your cheeks. You can barely breathe, your mascara starts to sting your eyes, and you can feel your cheek swelling. Harry crosses the room, he goes to touch you, but you flinch away from him.

“I’m so sorry all that happened. I should have interjected sooner, but it just seemed like you two needed to get something out.”

“It’s not your fault.” You say with a crack in your voice. “She’s just a bitch, and I should have stopped talking to her a long fucking time ago.” You press your fingers slowly to your cheek. “Fuck.”

“Let me get you some ice, go sit on the couch.” You do as he says. He pulls some ice out of your freezer and puts it in a baggy, then wraps it in a towel. He sits next you, and lightly dabs your face.

“Thanks.” You sniffle.

“She’s not worth your tears, love.” He takes his thumb and wipes just under your good eye. You lean into his touch.

“Baby?”

“Mm?”

“Will you please take me to bed?” He smiles and nods.

He scoops you up in his arms, and carries you to your room. He gently sets you down on the bed. He goes over to your bureau, and pulls out a t-shirt and shorts for you.

“I’m just gonna go down to my car. I, uh, packed an overnight bag just in case.” You nod.

You go into the bathroom, and wash your face, your cheek is still sore, but it shouldn’t leave a mark. You didn’t want anyone thinking Harry hit you. You change, and grab your phone. You sit down at your desk, and you call Rachel, knowing Sarah is with Niall.

“Hey girl.” She says to you.

“Kate fucking slapped me.”

“What?!”

“That bitch fucking slapped me!” Harry walks into your room, and starts to change in front of you. You can’t help but watch while you talk to your friend.

“Why? What happened?”

“She started a fight with me…I know I added fuel the fire, but she called myself and my mom a whore, so I blurted out that Kevin can’t fuck her right, and she slapped me.”

“Jesus, and she did this in front of Harry?”

“Of course she did!”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it just stings a little, she slapped me with one of her rings on.”

“Well, you know how she likes it rough.” You and Rachel burst out laughing.

“Oh yeah, she a freak.” You stifle your laughter, as Harry gives you a very confused look. He looks heavenly in his grey sweat pants.

“So, I’m assuming we’re not all hanging out tomorrow?”

“I’m not seeing her again.”

“Alright, maybe Sarah and I could come by to see you then. You know Kate is going to twist this whole thing around. I’m glad you called to tell me first.”

“Me too. It’s sad how much she’s changed.”

“I think if she just left Kevin she would be so much happier. They’re not a good match.”

“We tried to tell her, Rach.”

“But mother knows best.” Rachel groans. “Is Harry still with you?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, then go be with your man. I’ll text you tomorrow to see when we should come by. Probably in the afternoon. Sarah is with your friend again tonight.”

“Oh, I know. And sounds good, talk to you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone, and look at the man sitting at the edge of the bed.

“What was so funny?”

“Nothing, Rachel just reminded me of something that Kate likes.” You shrug. You stand up and walk over to him until you’re standing between his legs.

“Do you wanna just go to bed? I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, would you cuddle me?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You both get cozy under the covers, and he spoons you nice and close to him. You wiggle your bum against him a couple of time, and he adjusts himself.

“If you keep moving against me like that, we’re going to have a problem.” He says into your ear. He starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just can’t believe she slapped you.” You start laughing with him.

“She’s an idiot.” He hugs you closer to him, and nestles in your hair. You both slowly drift off into sleep.

Early that morning, you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. Harry jolts awake and you look at each other.

“How many friends of yours have a key to this apartment?” He asks getting up.

“Too many.” You hide under the covers. “Make her go away.” He gets up, and leaves the room.

Kate looks much different from last night. She’s in sweats, her hair in a messy bun, and no makeup. She looks up at Harry. Her eyes are swollen and red, probably from crying. He crosses his arms when he looks back at her.

“I really don’t think she wants to see you.”

“I just need to talk with her privately. I need to apologize, I can’t lose her.”

“Seems like you lost her a long time ago.” She sighs and stands up. She starts to walk to toward your room, but he stands in her way.

“Move.”

“No.”

“You don’t get to decide who she speaks to.”

“You’re right, but she did ask me to make you leave. And you should probably leave that key on the counter on your way out.” Kate brushes past Harry, and she bursts into your room. She closes the door quickly behind him and she locks it.

“Harry!”

“She locked the door!” He yells. You get out of bed, and stand with your arms crossed.

“I have some explaining to do. I acted like a psycho last night.” You roll your eyes at her. “I suppose I was just taking all of my frustrations out on you.”

“Like you always do. I can’t be your punching bag.”

“I know that. I’m so sorry. Kevin and I stopped trying to get pregnant, and I haven’t wanted him to touch me. I may have lied about him not being okay with me coming to visit you guys.”

“What do you mean?” You both sit on the bed.

“Well, I made it all up. The truth was, it hurt to hang out. I was jealous of your lives. My parents pressured me into staying with him, and I stupidly listened. I love him, I do, but there’s no passion. Not like there was. We’re, um, going to separate for a while.” She chokes back a few tears. “I don’t expect you to feel bad for me, because honestly I deserve everything bad that has happened to me.”

“You don’t deserve to be unhappy, Kate.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve been having an affair for the last month. I told Kevin last night.”

“Oh my god, with who?”

“One of his colleagues.” She says looking down. “I was always attracted to him, and one night we met up and just fucked, all night. It was incredible. He, um, likes the same things that I do.” Her cheeks grow red.

“Where are you gonna go?”

“Kev’s gonna sublet an apartment closer to the hospital so I can stay in the house. At least until we figure everything out. We’re probably going to get divorced.”

“What did he say when you told him about the affair?”

“Well, he asked why I would do that. And he asked how he could better satisfy me, and I told him what I was into, and he said he just didn’t feel comfortable with it, and I told him I knew that. He knows it was just a sex thing. We’re both still so young, and we don’t want to waste anymore of each other’s time.”

“What will you do?”

“Well, I’m almost done with my master’s degree, and once I have that I’ll start making more money so I’ll be able to move out. He said once I’m a month into my raise we’ll put the house on the market.”

“You figured all of this out last night?”

“Yeah, we were up all night talking. God, my parents are going to be pissed.”

“It’s not their life, Kate.”

“I know. Listen, I am so sorry I said that stuff about your mom, I never should have gone there.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because it’s not.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to move on from this?”

“You assaulted me.”

“I really shouldn’t drink anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to need some time. I know I said some hurtful things to you too.”

“I told Rachel and Sarah what happened in a group text.”

“I called Rachel last night.”

“I cancelled our plans today. Kev is waiting in the car downstairs, I just wanted the chance to explain.”

“I appreciate you being honest.” You reach out and hug her. “I need some time to cool down from all this.”

“Okay.” She breaks your hug and stands up. “When will we talk next?”

“When I feel ready, I’ll call.” She nods. “Kate, I still care a lot about you, and I want to be there for you. But…”

“I made this mess, it’s time I cleaned it up.” She opens the door. Harry is leaning against the hall closet. “Thanks warden.” She says to him. She looks back at you, and then to him. “Treat her right, she’s special.” Kate leaves the apartment, and leaves the key on the counter like Harry said. Harry sits on the bed next to you.

“Good talk?”

“Sort of. Her and Kevin are going to separate. She’s been having an affair with another doctor for over a month.”

“I heard a little, why exactly did she stray from Kevin?”

“Kate, how do I put this, she likes to be a little rough when she has sex.”

“She likes to be rough, or she likes when someone is rough with her?”

“The second one. We all know about it, and promised not to say anything. At first she said she was just into like being tied up, you know little fantasies, but she’s into some really dark shit. Not to kink shame.” You say in defense. “People like what they like.”

“Define dark shit.”

“God, don’t make me say it.” You say a little embarrassed.

“What is it, a daddy kink?”

“Yeah, but like it’s more than that. She likes when a guy is like really dominant, like scary dominant. Like one time she came back from hooking up with this guy, and she showed us her butt and it was beat red, like it left this giant bruise. I guess he spanked her like ten times in a row or something. And then she told us that he like choked her and would spit in her mouth.” It sends a shiver up your spine. “Gross.”

“And Kevin wasn’t willing to do any of that with her?”

“Not really. He was scared of hurting her, which I completely understand. Ugh, this whole conversation has turned my stomach. Could you imagine spitting your own come into someone’s mouth?”

“Wait what?” He bursts out laughing.

“Some guy came inside of her, went down on her, licked it up, and spit it into her mouth and made her swallow it.”

“And she liked that?”

“Loved it!” You start laughing. “I really shouldn’t laugh, it’s not her fault she’s into that sorta thing. She just discovered it.”

“At first I thought you were just grossed out at like regular spitting, but I can see how that would gross you out. Even I wouldn’t do that.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“Regular spit isn’t gross, you’re already swapping spit as it is.” He shrugs. You put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m only going to say this once. Please, do not ever spit into my mouth.” He chuckles.

“You got it.” Your phone starts to buzz, it’s Sarah.

“(y/n), are you okay????”

“Yeah, Sarah, I’m fine.”

“I felt so bad, Rachel told me everything and I didn’t get Kate’s texts until a little while ago. Do you want us to come over?”

“No, I think I’d like to just hang out with Harry today. I’ve had my fill of girl time, but I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

“Alright, sweetie. Talk soon.” You hang up, and fling your back on the bed and groan.

“I just want to turn my brain off!” You look at him, he’s smiling at you. “What?”

“You wanna spend the day with Harry huh?”

“Sorry, do you have other things you need to do?” You say apologetically.

“Nope, I just thought it was sweet.” He climbs on top of you, and you wrap your legs around him. “Let me distract you for a little while.” He says into your neck, and he starts to kiss you slowly.

“I really should take a shower.” He sighs, and gets off of you. You get up, and look at him confused. “Well?”

“Well what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I wanna be close with you.”

“You realize I’ll be naked, and you haven’t seen me yet.”

“But I’ve felt you. And who says I would even look?” You say playfully. “C’mon, come shower with me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, and gets up, following you into the bathroom.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles y/n fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #take it slow #photographer!harry

456 notes · View notes

harry-styles-sunflower · 4 years

Text

Meeting You In The Hallway Part 3

a/n: HII lovely people! I hope you are all doing well today! This is part 3 of Meeting you in the Hallway.

What it is: You move into the apartment across the hall from Harry and you begin a friendship which you both want more from but can’t communicate that want.

Word Count: 4k

Warning: fluff, angst, cursing, and sexual tension again bc why not.

Lil fun fact: new character in this part named Derek, there's ~some~ (honestly a lot of truth) truth to this character. Different name obvs. If you wanna picture somebody, picture Jacob Elordi, because that’s kind of what the real dude looks like.

Pls reblog if you like it 😊 Thank you for all the support so far! Means the fuckin world! Lot of dialogue in this one, let me know if yall like that or not. I think there will be one more part which will wrap this all up.

~~~

You both decided to just sit in silence after you ate, just laying your heads back.

"Do you have morphine?"

"Harry just because I work in a hospital doesn’t mean I have hard drugs lying around my apartment"

"Thought you could sneak some, excuse me" he waves his hands up in surrender.

You sigh, "No, there's a thing called inventory that gets checked every day. And what is it with you and morphine?"

"What do you mean?"

"It was in your song yesterday"

His head quickly looks over at you, "You remember yesterday?"

"I remember everything before the tequila shots" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Oh okay" he avoids your question about morphine and maybe if you didn't have a headache you'd keep pushing for an answer.

Your phone rings and it’s an odd looking number, its 10 digits long.

"Har, look at this number"

He looked over before laying his head back against your couch, "Its European"

"European?" you picked up, "Hello?"

"y/n?"

"Yeah who's this?"

Harry was listening, just didn’t show it.

"Hey um, it’s me, Derek. I don’t know if you remember me"

"Oh yeah. Sorry give me a sec." You pressed the mute button, double checked it was on, then whisper yelled, "holy fucking shit!!"

"What? Who's Derek?"

"This guy I had a hugee crush on in college. He was a year above me. We helped each other in Psych. We wo- hold on I need to answer him" you unmuted the call.

"Hey Derek"

"Hey um I was just wondering if you still lived here? In New York. I'm here for a trade meeting."

"Trade meeting?"

"Yeah with my agent, remember? Basketball?"

"Oh yeah, right. Okay. Um yeah I actually live in the city now"

"Oh, that’s great. Did you wanna grab dinner sometime? I’m here until Friday"

"Y-yeah we could settle on something"

"Okay. I'll uh text you a time and date"

"Yeah okay. Cool"

"Cool. Uh bye"

"Bye" you hung up quick. "Holy shit"

"That was the worst conversation I've ever heard in my life" he laughed.

"Shut up we were both nervous" you hit him with a pillow.

"Who is he again?"

"Long story short, we took Psych together in college and he was on the basketball team so every girl was obsessed but we would hang out all the time. A few nights before he graduated, we had like a moment. It was so romantic," you blushed thinking about it and Harry hated it, "and well, the next week he was gone to play basketball in Europe. It was like maybe right person but wrong time?" Harry swallowed before facing you, "Does that mean you see a future with him? If it was right person, wrong time?"

You looked at him and shook your head, "A girl could dream but I don’t know. I don't think I know him the way I used to you know? It's been like 4 years."

"But you're going on a date"

"No harm in that, right?" For some reason it was like you wanted his permission.

"Yeah, I guess, you said he played basketball in Europe?"

"Yeah, his name is Derek Belov, he's really tall."

"Belov? You're joking me."

"I'm not, you know him?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, "he's big over there. Only over there I guess."

You shrug, "I could honestly care less about it. He's a cool guy in general"

"I have a headache, I'm gonna lay down" he says as he adjusts himself on your couch and puts his feet in your lap. He puts your tv on and watches the office.

You check your phone and Derek had texted you about seven minutes ago. It’s alright though because you didn’t want to seem too excited. You two began texting and settled on a date that night. He swore he didn’t need to fight off the jetlag so you agreed. He'd pick you up at 6, It was almost noon now, so you had plenty of time.

"I'm leaving at 6, he'll pick me up."

"The least he could do, will it be a limo?" you could hear the bitterness in his voice but you blamed it on his hangover.

"No." you slid down your couch and harry tucked your feet under his arm while keeping his eyes on the tv.

You stayed like this for a while, you set an alarm for four o'clock so you wouldn't let time escape.

"Har, when was the last time you went on a date?" you wondered if this could answer your question from last night. If Harry was hooking up with somebody.

" I don't know why?"

"Well like years, months, weeks?"

"Month or so I guess"

"Oh okay, I was just wondering. I guess you could relate to me then. Dating life."

"Yeah sure"

He was being super dismissive and you hated it. You were tired of it actually. You sparked 0 conversation and once your alarm went off, he went back to his apartment and you got ready.

~~~

When harry got back to his apartment he felt angry. Angry with the way you spoke about that Derek guy. The fact that you were going on a date with him. He wanted to ruin your plans but he knew he couldn't be selfish. He felt bad for not being the supportive friend he knew you wanted in that moment. With a big sigh and heavy heart, he walked across the hall and knocked on your door 3 times.

You slowly went to open the door, already annoyed with Harry, you opened it with an eyeroll.

"What Harry?"

"I've come in peace," he said with a cheesy smile, "Look I'm sorry for being dismissive earlier I was really just not feeling well and well I'm sorry. Can I help you pick out your outfit now or whatever a girlfriend of yours would do? I even volunteer to do your makeup"

You rolled your eyes and opened the door wider, " Fine. Help me pick an outfit and I wanna borrow the earrings you have on. I like the simple loop look" you said as you walked deeper into your apartment.

"Deal."

You walked into your bedroom where you had a black lace lingerie set on your bed. Harry pretended he didn’t see it as he sat down next to it on your bed.

"I think I might wear a blouse with some high waisted jeans?”

"Yeah I mean why not just go comfy. Wear sweats and a baggy tee. I could lend you one of mine." He winked towards you.

"Harry," you gave him a warning look, "We're having dinner at a restaurant, I'm not gonna wear sweatpants." you looked through your closet and grabbed some black high waisted skinny jeans and tossed them towards Harry. They hit him right in the chest.

"Hey," he grinned at you and laid the jeans flat on your bed. "So is your theme black tonight." he said referencing to the lingerie on your bed.

"Um, I don't know. I think I got too excited. I don't think I'm gonna actually wear it."

"How come? You don't want something to happen?" He hoped not but he kept that to himself.

"I don’t need lingerie to make something happen Harry." he loved your confidence but he hid his smile and nodded.

You grabbed a light blue silky button up blouse from your closet and turned around to face him. "So, I'm thinking tuck the shirt in, roll up the sleeves, and white vans?"

"Sounds.. good"

You nodded and stepped in between his legs from where he was sitting on your bed and then got down to your knees and reached under your bed reaching for a box. The sight made him want to pull you on top of him but he knew he couldn't. Were you teasing him? You pulled a small box and placed it on his lap. Which he was a little thankful because his bulge was only growing in his pants.

"It's my jewelry box, could you pick out some bracelets or something?"

"Yeah, okay" he nodded.

As he kept his head down you went behind him to take off your shirt. You buttoned it up and then jumped into your jeans. Once you finished you faced his front again.

"Should I leave the top two unbuttoned or three?" you said as you unbuttoned a third to show. It showed more cleavage but still wasn't too much.

He rubbed his head and looked anywhere but your chest for too long. "I think two is fine. Leave three for another time. It's still just the first date"

"Aw Harold, you think I'm getting a second date? You're getting better at this girlfriend thing."

"Yeah yeah, here" he passed you his choice of bracelets and his earrings that he took off and you put them on. You enjoyed the fact that you could do this with him.

He grabbed your wrist and turned you around slowly so you were facing your full-length body mirror. You saw him lift his cross necklace above his head and then over yours. He adjusted it between your breast which made you suck in a breath. He felt satisfied when he heard your breath hitch just little bit.

"For good luck." But really he wanted you to remember him while you were out.

You looked him in the eyes through the mirror and whispered, "You don't have to, I've never even seen you take this off"

"Don’t worry about it" He leaned forward and moved your hair to the side and kissed your cheek.

His lips lingered on your cheek for a bit until you heard a knock on your door. You both jumped and walked away from each other.

"I could get it if you want. I know you need to put your shoes on and whatever else."

"Y-yeah please." You felt so confused. You were so excited to go on this date but now you just wanted to stay home with Harry. Feeling his lips on your cheeks made you want to stay and feel his lips on yours. You finished tying your shoes and put some mascara and light makeup.

Harry approached the door and took in a deep breath. When he opened the door, Harry wanted to say "what the fuck" but he actually said,

"Hello, I'm Harry"

"Oh uh, I think I've got the wrong place"

"Looking for Y/n?" he fucking hated that he had to look up to this guy. Damn basketball player, his guess was 6"7. (Derek was actually 6"9)

"Yeah?"

"Yeah she's in here, come in"

"Oh okay," he crouched down just a little to walk. "Do you live here?"

"No across the hall, I'm Y/n's best friend" he grinned. They walked into your living room and took seats waiting for you. Derek nodded at Harry's answer and rubbed his hands against his thighs. Harry noticed his nervousness and debated whether or not to use this to his advantage.

"So where are you taking her?"

"A restaurant, near the Statue of Liberty."

"Nice. Been there before?" maybe with another woman?

"No, actually" Derek looked around like he was becoming impatient with Harry.

You walked out and Derek stood up instantly.

"Wow, y/n it’s so nice to see you," he said as he bent down to give you a hug. It was almost a 2-foot height difference. Harry looked away as it happened. You hugged him back remembering his smell. Some Armani cologne if you remember correctly. Different than Harry's Tom Ford one but why were you even thinking of Harry?

"You too. Let's go? I'm hungry."

"Still the same I see"

"Old habits die hard," you winked. "Har, close the door behind you?"

He nodded at you. You felt bad for some reason and walked over to him and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for everything," you smiled up at him.

"Yeah, no problem." he blushed but you couldn't tell in this lighting.

As you were walking out your apartment with Derek beside you, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You reached into your pocket behind you and saw Harry had texted you.

H: Let me know when you get home please? Or if you stay at his place? Just wanna know you’re okay. Xx

Y/n: most likely coming home H, I’ll let you know tho :)

Harry debated whether or not to ask if she wanted him to stay at her apartment but he didn’t want to intrude on her plans if she wanted to bring Derek back home. He hoped not. He decided to just not answer.

You and Derek approach the elevator and wait.

“I like your necklace, it’s nice”

“Oh yeah, thanks” you fiddled with it.

The elevator doors opened and you made small talk all the way until the restaurant. You had finally made it to Gigino’s, an Italian restaurant by the waterfront at Wagner Park. It was beautifully lit. You’d never been on a date quite like this one. After you finished ordering your drinks, you spoke up.

“I’m surprised you remembered me. It’s been so long”

"I honestly couldn't forget you" he smiled but looked down trying to hide from you.

You bit the inside of your cheek and reached over to put your hand over his. He looked different, more manly.

"How's the big dream been?"

"More exhausting than I thought it would be. I thought college ball was similar to professional but they're nowhere near close. How's nursing?"

"Good, I have many kids I like to think are my own. I work on the pediatric cancer floor."

"Oh wow, that must be tough"

"It can be, can also be rewarding."

"I'm sure you're great for the job"

"Thank you."

Your food came interrupting your conversation but you didn't really mind. You ordered tagliatelle with mixed shellfish. You nearly moaned at the first bite, it was so good.

"So, Harry.. Best friend he says?"

You laughed a little, "Yeah, the bestest." you couldn't believe Harry said that. You weren't mad, you were humored.

"How long have you known him?"

"Few months"

"He hang around a lot?"

"Derek? Why the 20 questions?"

"Sorry, sorry, I was just wondering. Threw me off I guess." He sipped his wine.

"It's okay. Um yeah, I moved in and we became really good friends. We're just always there for each other. That's all." Lies.com.

"Okay. Could I be honest though?"

"Yes," Here we go…

"He likes you."

"Oh my god Derek," you rubbed your temples.

"He does okay, a guy can tell. I really don't care though. I mean, you're here with me right now."

You didn’t know how to take his last comment. Was it cocky? Was it trusting? Genuine? You felt awkward. You just continued eating quietly.

"I'm sorry, I've gone and made this awkward haven't I?"

"Yep."

You had lost your appetite and so you told the waiter you'd like to take the rest home. Derek had finished his plate.

"Dessert?" the waiter asked with his thick Italian accent and gave you the menus. You looked it over and saw the chocolate covered strawberries with whipped cream. Your weakness.

"Do you still like chocolate covered strawberries?"

A little surprised you looked up from the menu and nodded. Derek ordered for you and bought himself a tiramisu.

"Surprised you remembered that too."

"y/n, I don’t think you realize that I was in love with you."

Was.

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! I was. But I had to leave, my dad would've killed me if I didn’t continue his legacy in the game."

"Yeah I know, how is Mr. Bolev?"

"We don't talk."

"Oh." Now you made it awkward. This night was becoming… disastrous?

"Well, yeah I was. I wish I'd said it sooner, who knows what would've happened."

Maybe it was the wine, but you felt a little tingly. You sipped and squinted at him.

"Yeah, who knows?"

"Care to find out?" he grinned.

"Can't go back in time sweetheart."

"No but maybe I could show you something similar."

You laughed and stayed quiet as the waiter came out with your strawberries. He watched you as you ate your strawberries. You might've been doing it a little seductively if you were honest. You wiped the corners of your mouth with your finger and sucked on them lightly.

"Fuck," he mumbled and called the waiter over. "Check please?"

You laughed and drank your water. You’ve had enough wine.

"Do you wanna walk around the park?"

"Its dark," you leaned in to whisper, "There's rats. I've seen them"

"Holy shit, no way."

You nodded his way and he looked around nervously. You giggled at how big he was yet scared of a tiny, well sometimes big, rat. He paid quickly and grabbed your hand running out of there. You made it to his car and got in.

"So, where to?"

"Um where you got me from?"

"Right." You don’t know why, but you wanted to feel something. You wanted to see if there was anything there still. He was nice, but he wasn’t… he wasn’t what you thought you wanted anymore. If things went wrong you could blame it on the wine. You leaned across the center console before he could pull out of his parking spot and grabbed his face and kissed him. He kissed you back instantly and you felt nothing. Nada. You kissed him deeper trying to find something, anything. You just had a romantic dinner and now felt nothing? What sick game was life playing? He placed his hand on your hips and encouraged you get on top. You complied and straddled him. Now you felt something. He was already hard and he felt big. You had this internal battle in your head of whether you should grind on him or not. You didn’t want to give him the wrong intention. What were your intentions?

"You're here till Friday?" you asked breathing a little heavy.

"Yeah," he licked his lips and you kissed them again.

Maybe a hookup wouldn't be horrible. But maybe not on the first date.

"You free tomorrow?"

"Mhm," he kissed you and you leaned against his wheel setting the horn off. You both jumped and laughed. He put his hand on your cheek and kissed you softly. "Let’s get out of here?"

You nodded and he drove to your building.

"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" he looked over at you as he put the car in park.

"Yeah. I'll text you when I'm free and stuff."

"Okay." Maybe he expected an invitation upstairs but you weren't in the mood to give him one. You really wanted to go upstairs and knock on Harry's door. You wanted to hang out with him. Derek reached his hand over and played with your, actually Harry's, necklace. Little did he know... He tugged it lightly and leaned in towards you. You gave him a quick kiss and said goodnight. You practically ran inside wanting to change. You went into your apartment and changed into some pajama shorts and a baggy t shirt. You put your slippers on and walked across the hall and knocked three times. You heard harry yell a, 'finally!' before he opened the door. When he opened the door, it seemed it wasn't you he was expecting.

"oh, y/n?" his eyes were red.

"Who were you expecting? Are you crying?"

"No um no, and pizza."

"Can I come in?"

"Um I don’t think that's the best idea."

"Harry what's going on?"

He leaned against the door so you could walk in. Lo and behold he was watching The Vampire Diaries without you. It was the scene where Damon was trapped on the Other side and told Elena how much he loved her but she couldn't hear him.

"Are you serious?"

"I got bored okay!"

"Were you crying over this scene?"

"Maybe."

"Aw, poor baby." you walked up to him and pinched his cheeks.

"How was your date?" he said as he pushed your hands down gently.

You stayed looking up at him, "It was good, food was good," he kept eye contact with you and you didn’t even realize he was still holding your hand.

"He didn't walk you up?"

"No, I kind of didn't let him. I wanted to hang out."

He gave your hand a light squeeze and tried to hide his smile. "Doesn't sound like it went all that well then"

"It was fine Har," you dropped his hands and walked towards his couch. "I should be mad at you for watching without me."

"I know, will you ever forgive me?" you both sat on his couch and he helped you put your legs on him. His fingertips left little flames on your skin.

You take off his necklace and crawl up to him and put it back around his neck.

"Back where it belongs." you twisted a curl from behind his neck around your finger.

"Did you know I used to have my hair really long? Like up to my collarbones?"

"Really?"

"Yeah," he pulled out his phone and showed you a picture. He looked so young. So handsome.

"I think you should grow it back out." you giggled.

"How come?" he settled his arm on your knees as you were still facing him on your knees on his couch.

"I don’t know," you ran your fingers through his hair, "you look handsome either way."

"You think I look handsome?" he looked up at you.

You nodded, scared to speak. You thought maybe you'd say something you might regret. Like how much you wanted to kiss him. Or how you wished Derek smelled like him. Or how you thought of him from time to time. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.

"I guess I should finish this episode."

You nodded and went back to laying down on the other end of the couch. Harry felt confused. You had just gone on a date and come back to him and called him handsome. Did you like him or not? You interrupted his thoughts when you spoke up.

"We kissed," you felt like you had to tell him, yet he felt he could live without that information. "but I didn't feel anything. Like those sparks you're supposed to feel. I don’t know."

Harry stared at the screen and just listened. He didn’t want to hear that you kissed but he did like that you didn't like it.

"But I'm supposed to see him again tomorrow, now that I'm here I kind of don't want to."

Harry sighed and turned off the tv. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Y/n, do you feel anything for me? Because I'm honestly fucking confused. You go out on a date with some guy and then come back here, touching me in some ways. Call me handsome. The other night you put your fingers through my belt loop-" he caught what he was saying when you gave him a confused look.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me"

"The other night, after my gig you were drunk and you pulled me towards you.. You didn't remember so I didn't remind you." He sighed heavily.

"Oh, I'm sorry I did that to you."

"I didn’t mind it"

"What's that supposed to mean"

You both sat up and faced each other. Sharing the middle cushion.

"Harry, do you feel anything for me?"

Part 4 is now up!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #one direction #Meeting you in the hallway #myith #pls reblog

28 notes · View notes

subasekabang · 4 years

Text

i've got some falling to do

Title: i’ve got some falling to do Rating: T Word Count: 8,020 Pairings/Characters: Neku Sakuraba, Joshua Kiryu Warnings: near character death, implied character death, injury Summary: Seven days after Neku’s returned to the UG, he receives a text that sends a chill down his spine. The Composer needs help. You’re the only one who can do it. Partner: @sugarsomg, desiquiche Author’s Note: Many thanks to @beyondworldborders for… practically writing a good portion of this. She’s my go-to Neku dialogue person. She also betad! neku-phones-sakuraba also gave this a once over and pointed out a lot of spelling and grammar errors. Title from Lemon Demon

The soda tastes sharp on Neku’s tongue as he leans back on the bench, gaze flitting around from person to person. The condensation slicks the cardboard cup in his hand, stealing his attention from the way the crowd threatens to overwhelm him. The Shibuya crowd is as loud as ever, but it doesn’t really bother him anymore, not like it used to. He likes the reassurance that people can see him, can feel him on the off chance that he shifts a little too close to another and accidentally shoulder checks someone. It’s a reminder that he’s alive, that the breath pulled through his lungs isn’t just due to muscle memory. His free hand raises to grip at the familiar weight of his headphones around his neck, but his fingers only curl around air.

Right. He sort of left his limited edition CAT headphones in the middle of the Shibuya Scramble Crossing when he’d woken up on the pavement for a fourth time to find that he was alive after-

Well. Neku’s in high spirits. He’s had a good day. No thoughts of the past are going to wreck that.

It’s been seven days since he’d miraculously come back to life after his three long weeks fighting for his right to existence in the second, hidden layer of reality hidden right on top of Shibuya. For seven long days Neku has sat anxiously on the bench at the statue of Hachiko, hoping and praying to the maybe-god he knows there is that his friends are okay and will show up to greet him. He had almost given up hope by the seventh day, but seventh days had always been so monumental when it came to Neku and his friends. If they were going to show, it would be today.

And sure enough, Beat and Rhyme and even Shiki in her unfamiliar body with that very familiar smile had finally shown up- a week from the Game at Hachiko, just as promised. Their presence had lifted a weight from his chest, let a smile grow wide on his face as Beat snagged him around the neck, as Rhyme showed him her bell with glee, as Shiki had shoved Mr. Mew into Neku’s arms in order to talk animatedly with her hands as she discussed her reunion with Eri and her family. It had been a good day spent with his friends. Now it’s late, nearly dark, and Neku’s friends have headed back to their homes. Neku stopped for a drink, wanting to revel in the moment just for a bit longer- and to linger just for a few more moments, to give that one person just a few more seconds to pop in unexpectedly with that light step, that lazy swagger to his movements.

Neku still isn’t sure that he even wants to see him, but he does want to know that Joshua is okay, despite everything. He realizes now that Joshua had spent their week together within the Game intentionally hand feeding him bits and pieces of information, showing him where to go to jack Shibuya- from Joshua. He still isn’t sure what it means. Why give Neku the chance to shoot him, in those final moments in that dark grey room, if all Joshua wanted was to be done with Shibuya? Neku would have thought that he’d failed whatever test Joshua was levering against him when he faltered at pulling the trigger on the boy he’d come to think of as a friend.

So why is everything still standing?

Why does Neku hope to hear that gratingly self-satisfied voice so badly?

Neku can’t understand- it’s impossible to. But he knows he isn’t seeing Joshua anytime soon, much less tonight, so he pulls himself to his feet with a heavy sigh to begin the walk home, one hand shoved into his pocket to fiddle with the black lacquered pin he keeps tucked away. He absently chews on the straw of his drink as he ambles through the busy Shibuya streets, headed to the station to take his train line home. He reaches for his pocket when his phone buzzes with a text. Probably just Shiki or Rhyme letting him know they got home… safe…?

Unknown The Composer needs help. You’re the only one who can do it.

Unknown Immediately

The soda cup cracks open and spills along the concrete as Neku breaks into a run towards the station.

Neku’s lungs are burning by the time he reaches the sewers that Joshua had so carefully led him to during the Game. It’s as dark and dank and cold as he remembers, the sound of his feet echoing down the tunnels so loud it sounds like gunshots in his head. He half expects another barrier pulled up to keep him out, to keep him from making sure that stupid asshole is alive- or existing, or whatever.

But no, the door to that weird retro underground club is open, cracked open with a flip flop of all things stuck in the doorway so it doesn’t swing shut and activate the padlock again. A bubble of anxiety wells and pops in Neku’s chest. What is this? Is someone here to hurt Joshua? Or is this the person who messaged him to help Josh? He doesn’t understand what’s going on.

What if this is another of Joshua’s Games?

Neku takes a deep breath and shoves the door open, barreling into that same retro lounge he’d once been forced to fight Shiki in. It’s quiet, near silent except for the hum of the refrigerator behind the bar. No sign of anything or anyone. The schools of fish in the walls and floor continue to swim idly, completely undisturbed. It seems like a normal lounge. It all sets Neku’s nerves on edge.

Neku silently pads into the room, every muscle aching with how tense he feels. Okay, room empty. Where’s the jackass then? His heartbeat thunders in his ears, reminding him that yes, he’s alive.

Which, Neku realizes as he searches the room to find no one around and no other exits except the one he entered through, means he’s in the RG. That huge wooden door that Neku had to scan for isn’t open for him now. His Player Pin is dead without whatever energy the UG carries within it, nothing more than a token of his trials. He pulls the tiny pin out anyway and clenches it tight in his hand, breathing in deep and closing his eyes as he opens his senses.

…

Nothing calls out to him, nothing shifts in his mind or pokes at his attention. No stray thoughts or Noise distract him from the solitude of his own head. There’s nothing. It’s what he’s always tried to achieve.

Now it only reminds him of that last day, barreling through a still Shibuya to finally regain his life.

With a snarl of frustration, Neku’s eyes snap open. No door. Nothing has changed whatsoever except for the speeding up of his pulse hammering away, the shaking of his hands that want to fight doing nothing to calm him.

“How the hell am I supposed to save him if I can’t even get in?” Neku shouts into the empty air, raking a hand through his hair. He stomps a foot, fish scattering in alarm underfoot. Something is wrong, he can feel it in the air. If Joshua were okay he’d have appeared already to taunt him, right?

Why Neku, did you miss me so badly today that you had to break into my home?

Yeah, jackass.

“Please,” Neku whispers into the empty air, eyes closing once again. Panic has his chest tightening. Joshua needs him, he can feel it through whatever connection has been left between them, right? So why is he being forced to just sit here? What if he’s already too late? “Please let me in.”

With bated breath, he opens his eyes once again. Relief, strong enough to send him nearly to his knees, surges through him as he sees a tall, oaken door standing before him.

The panic in his chest curls tighter and tighter with every step closer he takes, has him hesitating as he shoves past the heavy doors. What is going on? This… doesn’t feel like him. He’s done this before, he’ll be fine. He has to be fine. Joshua has to be fine.

Why does he even care about the bastard anyway? What has Joshua ever done for him, really?

Graffiti rushes past him as his aching feet carry him deeper and deeper back to that fateful spot he and Joshua had last seen one another- that smirking grin, the smoke wisping off of the barrel of the gun. Three weeks of hell, just for that. What if this is just another of those stupid games of his?

Trust your partner.

Well. It’s gotten him this far, if with an extra bullet scar to his chest. He can trust CAT’s words one last time.

Besides, he can hear screaming.

Neku feels what’s wrong before he can actually see it, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rising as something that he would describe as feeling like static dances across his skin and through his veins? What the hell? Is that Noise? That’s one hell of an energy spike for even a dangerous Noise.

But then Neku stumbles into that throne room and immediately has to throw his arm up over his eyes, squinting as a bright light nearly blinds him. Wind whips around the epicenter of this glow, tugging at his hair and his clothes and his heart. “What the hell?”

He plants his feet and squints through the bright light, grinding his teeth together through the pain as something deep in him tells him to get out, go, run. But he can’t because there in the middle of this power, this personal storm wrapped around him, is a tall figure with broad shoulders, curled over in pain and mouth open to scream, a pair of white fluffy wings sprouting from his back and flexing as if to try to pull the figure free from the storm. Neku can really only recognize him by the sight of that messy, curly hair and that connection that urges him closer, urges him to help. His partner is in pain.

“Joshua!” Neku grits his teeth and tries to take a step forward, only to be buffeted back by the power. He snarls and firmly plants his foot forward, then again, determination settling in his chest. He could turn back, return to the life Joshua gave back to him and forget this storm is happening, give in to the fear and anxiety and live like the ignorant RG person he is. Neku scoffs and takes a third step, bringing himself that much closer to his bastard of a partner. “Like hell I’m giving up on you after everything! You hear me, Josh?”

The storm seems to shudder in response, lessening slightly. That head lifts weakly, showing glazed, blank eyes that close in… resignation? No, that feels wrong. The Joshua he knows wouldn’t be giving up. What’s happened to him to get him here?

The fear curls up again as Neku fights his way through the storm. What’s to keep Joshua from killing him again, or this power that surges back up to meet his forward progress? His hands are shaking.

To think this is how he sees his partner again. No smarmy sudden howdy, Neku from around a street corner, or the bastard showing up suddenly to their friend gathering. No, Neku has to save his ass from whatever the hell this is. Fucker. He wants to yell at this idiot until his throat is hoarse, to yank him from this oppressive static clinging to him and hold him tight in relief. But Neku has to get Joshua free before he can do anything. Stupid.

“Get down here!” With another snarl, Neku shoves forward and plunges his hands into the glowing mass, eyes widening when his hands sink in to settle around a familiar wrist, a wrist he’d grabbed and dragged around Shibuya when his partner hadn’t wanted to participate in the mission. Neku grits his teeth and tightens his grip, thrusting his other hand in to snag Joshua’s shoulder. The form under this glowing feels like the kid he knows, the bastard who would giggle and taunt him. But it’s wrong, trembling under the power he’s trapped in. Static pricks along Neku’s arm, stinging warningly as if to make him release his prize. Neku shakes his head and ignores how he can’t feel his arm. “Damn it, I’m not letting go! That’s my partner!”

Neku grits his teeth and yanks, pulling Joshua free of the storm that tries to cling tight to it’s Composer. When he pulls that trembling hand free first, the white glow seems to peel away and leave a small, pale hand behind. Sure enough, as Neku hauls Joshua down from the epicenter and safe into his arms, static fizzles out and pops off of the tall form of what Neku can only assume is the Composer, leaving nothing more than the small teenager that Neku thought he knew so well leaning helplessly against his chest. Large feathered wings, disheveled and shuddering, hang limp from his friend’s back, drag against the ground as Neku quickly backs away from the storm that had possessed Joshua. White feathers rip free, pulled by the storm, and vanish upon hitting the ground. Joshua shudders in his arms and weakly looks up at him.

Joshua blinks hazily up at Neku, limp against his chest. His voice breaks when he speaks, hoarse from screaming if Neku had to guess. “N..?”

“Josh…” He looks exactly the same, right down to his clothing choices. But he also looks completely different, torn and beaten to hell and back from whatever was trying to rip him apart up there. Around his neck, hair tangled in the headband, lies a large pair of purple and grey headphones, battered and beaten from years of heavy use and worn from love. What the hell? Neku had tossed those things to the ground as soon as he’d realized he was alive. How did Josh end up with them? Why is he wearing them?

Questions for later. Are they safe?

Neku glances up warrily. The storm is just… gone, after its victim has been freed. Neku looks back down at his rescue in his arms. What was that? What’s been happening for the last week? Why does Joshua look dead on his feet? Neku frowns. “Are you okay?”

“I-” Joshua coughs, turning his face away from Neku’s. Everything about the boy in his arms looks worn and beaten. Dark circles cling to beneath his eyes. When’s the last time Josh slept? Does he even need to sleep? He sure looks it. His cheek rests heavily against Neku’s shoulder, tired gaze searching the dark corners of the large stone room. Neku follows his gaze, but can’t find anything. “I’m fine.”

Joshua seems to sigh, almost resigned as he tries to straighten up. Neku slowly lowers his arms, a hand resting between his partner’s shoulder blades- between those wings- as he wobbles, unsteady on his feet. The wings flare a bit, as if to steady him, but Joshua grits his teeth and they slump back to the ground. Neku frowns. Does that hurt him?

“You look like you’re about to keel over.” Neku scowls back at Joshua’s dirty look sent his way. It’s true. “What happened? What was that?”

“I am.” Joshua licks at his lips, gaze still slightly unfocused. Neku’s tempted to wave his finger in front of his eyes to see if he can track it. The blond leans in against the supportive touch to his back. “About to keel over, that is. It seems, Neku, that you’ve…” Joshua wobbles and raises a shaking hand to his shoulder, rolling out the joint a bit. He laughs sardonically under his breath. “It seems you’ve interrupted my execution.”

“Your what?” Neku asks sharply, baffled. As per usual with Joshua, every answer to a question only raises five more answers he needs. Joshua just cringes back at the noise, head falling back as his eyes squeeze closed. The guy looks like he’s about to drop, frail and ready to shatter. This isn’t the Joshua he knows.

Neku presses his lips into a firm line and gently takes Joshua by his upper arm, urging him towards that large throne at the back of the room. “C’mon, sit down.”

Joshua digs his heels in when Neku tries to pull him deeper into the room, shaking his head. He’s trembling in Neku’s grip, nearly collapsing in his attempt to pull back from where Neku’s leading him. Neku nearly lets him fall in surprise as panic flashes across Joshua’s worn expression, gaze locked onto the cold stone. “No, no, not there. The couch, in the Pad, but not here.”

“Okay, okay… not there. Got it.” Neku reaches for Joshua again, feeling almost like he’s reaching for a scared animal. What happened to him? He frowns and winds his arm around Joshua’s thin wait and drapes his arm across his shoulders. A little barbed tease about how Joshua needs his help rests on the tip of his tongue, laced with fury, but Neku swallows it down. He’ll have plenty of time to get mad at Joshua later. “C’mon, lean on me. You said we’re going to the pad?”

That has to be the weird western retro looking room outside of those invisible doors. What’s with that thing anyway?

Joshua gives Neku a blank look, reluctance in his eyes as he nods and leans against Neku. His gaze flits over one more time to the far wall, searching the dark corners, before falling to watch where he’s placing his feet. Must be taking a lot of concentration, Neku guesses, even with the way Joshua’s leaning his weight against Neku. Those pitiful, ruffled wings that look like they should be fluffy and bright drape over his arm and drag along the ground as they slowly make their way through the graffiti halls back to the RG. Joshua’s silent along the walk except for a tiny muttered curse when he trips over his own feet.

“Careful,” Neku mutters, pulling Joshua closer. This feels wrong, seeing Joshua so exhausted and practically defeated like this. The last time he’d seen his partner, the jackass had been smirking at him over the smoking barrel of a gun. He looked like he’d had the world resting in the palm of his hand, content and satisfied with how his plans had gone. But this Joshua looks like he’s on his last legs, tossed to hell and back and only clinging on to existence for some determined reason only he knows. Neku lowers Joshua carefully to the couch when they finally make it into that glaringly bright room, despite the urgency in his nerves. “There we go…”

Joshua blinks up slowly at Neku as he sinks into the couch, a grimace pulling at his lips as those long, wilted wings get pressed against the back. His eyes slide closed for a moment, brows knitting together in what Neku has to assume is pain, and the wings seem to simply fizzle out of existence. Neku can’t quite even focus on where they would be on the couch anymore. Huh.

Long, pale fingers are pulling at a thick blanket draped over the arm of the couch, but Neku can see how much effort it takes his once proud partner to even tug the blanket over himself. He exhales slowly through his nose, but looks around to find a distraction. He draws the line at tucking his murderer in.

Neku turns away, gripping his arm. What now? He’s got questions, so so many questions, but he doesn’t even know where to begin, much less how to get the answers out of Josh when his partner knows so well how to run Neku in circles.

His gaze lands on the bar on the far side of the room. Neku’s feet take off before he can process the thought, taking him behind the bar to search through the various glass bottles lined up against the wall. He can feel Joshua’s curious gaze tracking his movements, sending the hairs on his neck standing on end. Neku scoffs. “Do you have nothing but wine and liquor here?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Neku,” Joshua murmurs lightly. He sounds so tired, but there’s a little more life to his voice now that he’s sitting down. Neku rolls his eyes. Who’s the ridiculous one here? “We have plenty of soda and juice back there for mixers.”

“I’m looking for water, dumbass,” Neku snips back, kneeling to investigate the minifridge stashed beneath the bar. He pops open the stainless steel door and breathes a sigh of relief. Behind a neat stack of soda and juices stands a few bottles of water. Neku snags one and grabs a soda for himself before standing with a groan and looking at his ex partner.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the blond look so small, curled in on himself with the thick blanket draped so carefully across him. Everything about him seems wilted, even his curly hair more tangled and limp than usual. His shoulders sag, as if those wings are still weighing him down. His gaze listlessly tracks the fish swimming through the flooring underfoot.

What’s with those things anyway? Is Joshua so far removed from humanity that he has wings? Maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised. The Reapers had wings, though they were black and gothic, skeletal and reaching. Joshua’s were long and seemed like they would spread wide if he were to extend them, feathered and full even as disheveled and painful as they looked. Joshua looked like he could have flown with them, if they were taken care of better.

Neku sighs and sets the can of soda and the bottle of water on the bar, leaning against it as he pops the tab with a quick jerk. Joshua looks up at the noise, tired violet eyes meeting Neku’s gaze. Huh. Neku’s lips turn down as he stamps down a surge of anger.

“So…” Joshua’s gaze dims even more as Neku starts off. His lips press together as Neku clears his throat. “What was that back there?”

“What was what, Neku?” Even his voice is tired, none of that cocky inflection that used to color his tone.and infuriate Neku so much. Neku needs to hear that tone again, if only so he wouldn’t feel like shit for still having the urge to deck the kid.

“That, Joshua, back in that stupid stone room.” Neku’s voice rings in the empty room, crossing the expanse between them. He’s worried about the jackass. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Is Joshua still in danger? Is Neku? He doesn’t like worrying, doesn’t like the bubble of anxiety that builds and builds and builds in his chest so he does what he always has and turns it into something else. That anger rises again. He comes all this way after missing the asshole who shot him for a solid week, and now he’s going to try and play coy? He was led like a dog to some stupid final showdown between people much more powerful than him and this is what Josh is going to try and pull in response? No. Neku grits his teeth. “What did you mean by execution? And damn it, you need to give me a straight answer this time.”

“Neku…” Joshua turns his gaze back down, expression unchanged by Neku’s outburst. He raises a delicate hand to press against his temple. He’s probably still in pain. “Now?”

“I can’t help you if you won’t share what’s going on!” Neku snatches up the drinks and marches around the bar to stand in front of the couch, facing down Joshua. He tosses the water bottle down beside Joshua, reaching behind himself to set his own soda on the table. His hands are shaking. Yelling at someone who looks like a walking corpse doesn’t feel good at all. “Why was I called here to help if you won’t even take it?”

“Called here?” Joshua blinks, expression slipping as he stares flabbergasted up at Neku. His brow furrows in as he gapes open mouthed at Neku. He clears his throat and looks away, tucking his hair behind his ear as he reschools his expression. “I don’t know of any such calling, Neku. I was a bit preoccupied.”

Right. Josh looked pretty wrapped up in that storm. Neku can’t forget those agonized screams. There’s no way he would have been able to make a phone call, much less send two different messages.

Neku can’t get over how exhausted his friend looks. The anger drains out of him all at once. With a heavy sigh, Neku flops onto the couch beside Joshua. He does relish the visible surprise on his partner’s face when he bounces for the force.

“What are you doing?”

“Staying with you.” Neku sighs and runs his hand through his bangs, shoving back the gelled spikes. “I’m making sure you’re okay. Drink some water.”

Joshua sputters when Neku reaches across him to pick up the bottle and press it against his chest through the blanket. He squirms, hands fighting free of the confines of the fabric to grip the bottle even as he protests. “I don’t need-“

“Drink. The water.” Neku snaps, crossing his arms. His gaze drifts to those headphones around Joshua’s neck. He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, or anything about what’s going on in Joshua’s head, but there’s some connection between them even still that Neku has to figure out. He doesn’t know why Joshua has his headphones. But it reassured him, strangely enough. “I want to help, dumbass.”

He meets Joshua’s wide gaze. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still pissed at you and I will be getting answers. But I trust you.” His voice softens. “I won’t leave you alone like this.”

“But…” Joshua falls silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. The fabric tightens and loosens, as if fingers are clenching at it from the inside.

Neku nudges Joshua’s shoulder. “Water.”

“This is my penance, Neku,” Joshua murmurs quietly. The plastic of the water bottle snaps as he twists the cap off. Joshua pulls his feet up onto the couch. Neku swears he sees his jaw trembling before he turns away. But Joshua’s voice does sound tight, like there’s something stuck in his throat. “I’m supposed to be left ‘like this,’ to be left alone.”

“That’s bullshit,” Neku spits. The quiet admission strikes a chord in him. He once thought he could live alone too, that it was fine if he kept his world borders closed to only himself. That he deserved it. But he learned differently, thanks to his friends. To Shiki, Beat, Rhyme, and yeah. Even Joshua. “I’m sitting here right now, aren’t I? You don’t have to be alone.”

Joshua’s silent for a moment.

“So chivalrous, Neku. When did that happen?” He laughs, quietly and sardonically. Neku wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Joshua, face still turned away, tucks his hair behind his ears. “What I mean, Neku, is that I am quite literally not allowed to have any unnecessary contact with anyone. A Composer’s identity is supposed to remain a secret, you know. Only the Conductor can know who he is.” Joshua’s expression falters, a dark shadow across that cutting gaze. “And the powers that be have decreed that I’m not allowed to have another. Can’t be trusted not to break my toys, apparently.”

Some kind of punishment? That makes sense, Josh did try to nuke Shibuya. Even if he changed his mind, Joshua shot him, and even he has to face some sort of consequences for that, right? Sounds like it, if he has some kind of higher tier watching his movement. They probably weren’t too crazy about Joshua apparently going renegade.

But if Joshua isn’t allowed to have any kind of contact, then who the hell called him here? Someone who would insist that Neku is Joshua’s only chance at living.

It seems like every answer Joshua deigns to give him, he only has so many more questions to give back.

“Does that have anything to do with why you were being torn apart back there?”

“Ah…” Joshua flinches, the fabric of the blanket tightening around him as if he’s squeezing himself inside his cocoon. His voice comes out as a near whisper. “Yes. As you can imagine, Shibuya was… rather dissatisfied with my actions. She wasn’t too happy with me trying to destroy her current UG and hand the reins off. So… it appears as if she decided to simply give me what I wanted.” Joshua’s breath hitches. “Really, she must have seen it as a kindness, perhaps. After all the trouble I went through.”

Joshua laughs, one of those forced giggles. He nudges Neku’s arm with his elbow. “But how lucky for me that Shibuya adores you so much.”

She? Does Shibuya have… her own personality or personification or something? Alright. Sure. Not the weirdest thing that Neku’s heard of in the last month. His mind is running a mile a minute, stumbling over itself. He frowns in response to Joshua’s playfulness and nudges him back. Joshua’s smile wavers, but he covers it up with a sip from the water bottle.

Neku’s surprised at how quickly he’s learning to read this more fragile Joshua. He’s entirely on the defensive. If Neku pressed hard enough, he might be able to get any answer he wanted.

He just wants to know if Joshua is okay.

“So Shibuya was mad that you tried to nuke it- her.” Neku rubs the back of his neck. “But what? Adores me? What does that mean?”

“You spent three weeks tromping all across her UG, meeting the challenges set by her denizens and spreading your influence. You left a bit of you, Neku, near everywhere you went.” Joshua just laughs softly when Neku stares, flabbergasted at him. “It’s only natural that she would grow to love you. The same way that you grew to love her, no?”

“I… guess you’re not wrong.” Neku shifts uncomfortably, lacing his fingers together to hang loosely as he leans forward on his knees for support. He used to hate this city, hate its ideals and the noise and the crowds that made it all clash. But Shibuya is his home. The Game taught him to appreciate it, to listen to people and see how their differences make it a better city. “So… what are you saying? Shibuya led me here?”

“No.” Joshua shakes his head. The tiniest and most honest smile Neku has ever seen on Joshua’s face curls his lips. “And if my suspicions are correct, I can’t tell you who did. That’s beyond my jurisdiction. Normally that wouldn’t stop me, but I’m trying to get time off for good behavior.” He laughs- forced again- and tucks his hair behind his ear. “No, Neku, Shibuya was trying to kill me. Why would she lead you here?”

“I don’t know.” Joshua just sounds so resigned. He’s never heard him sound like this before. Neku feels helpless. “Because she knew I would try and save you?”

Joshua freezes beside him, the plastic of the bottle crinkling. Neku turns to glance at Joshua, catching only a glimpse of wide eyed confusion just as his head snaps away. Joshua shakes his head as if to clear it. “Ah, well. Of course, I’m very grateful to still be sitting here.”

“Will it happen again?” Neku takes Joshua’s momentary tension as a yes. Joshua’s clearly trying to hide his reactions and expressions as he usually does, but nearly dying must affect the amount of effort one can put into that.

“I have to assume so,” Joshua murmurs. He sighs. “A Composer is not meant to be without a Conductor. A Conductor not only serves as his Composer’s link to the Reapers and makes sure the Game goes smoothly, but he also helps to assist the Composer in guiding and mitigating the sheer power of the city that runs through the Composer. And as I don’t have a Conductor, I have to try and handle all this power on my own. Add Shibuya’s anger to that and…”

And Joshua doesn’t have long, Neku finishes silently. Joshua’s set back into the couch by this point, gaze tipped idly towards the floor. His partner looks sleepy, of all things. Guess that makes sense. Neku follows his line of sight and isn’t at all surprised to find him watching the fish again. He wonders what Joshua is thinking. He’s lost the one person who was allowed to know him. And now he’s fucking dying because of it.

“There has to be something we can do…” Neku offers weakly, mind racing. Joshua doesn’t deserve to die. He firmly believes that, even as the snarled knots of dual scars in his chest twinge at the thought. He still doesn’t quite know what Joshua was thinking during the Game (what did he mean, Shibuya was going to give him what he wanted? Shibuya was killing-). But it all worked out, in the end. He didn’t destroy Shibuya. He even restored it. Rhyme’s back, and she lost fair and square. Neku’s even pretty sure that he saw a poster for a Def March concert pop up a couple days ago. Josh did all that.

Neku runs a hand over his mouth. Could he…?

“You need a Conductor, right? They won’t give you one and aren’t exactly giving you the chance to appoint a new one.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but essentially that’s the gist.” Joshua tiredly lifts a hand, letting his fingers drift through his own hair. His shoulder leans just a bit more heavily against Neku’s. Neku sits back to support him better. Joshua sighs heavily. “So I’m quite out of luck, you see.”

So if Joshua gets a new Conductor, he’ll live. Those higher ups of his have made it so Josh can’t find a new one. Probably fair enough, considering what happened to his last one.

Neku has to be crazy to be thinking what he’s thinking, then.

“What if I was your Conductor?”

Joshua’s head snaps around, wide startled eyes clashing against Neku’s calm gaze. Jaw dropped, Joshua stares. Neku almost has time to find amusement in it when Joshua’s gaze narrows. “Are you an idiot, Neku?” Joshua snaps through grit teeth. Neku’s almost offended by the venom in Joshua’s voice. “You hated every second you spent in the UG.”

“Not every second,” Neku mumbles. It’s where he met his friends, including Josh. He would still be a lonely, abrasive asshole if he wasn’t forced into the Game. It doesn’t mean he forgives Joshua, and he’s going to punch him as soon as he can without knocking the Composer flat on his ass. But he can’t let him die like this.

“Nonetheless, you don’t even know what you’re trying to sign up for.” Joshua spits, shaking his head. He scowls at Neku, glaring. “Are you always so impulsive?”

“No,” Neku answers plainly. But he’s not thinking about himself right now. He hasn’t thought about if he wants back into the Game, even if he isn’t a player. All he can see are those wings that had dragged against the ground, the way they had shed feathers all across the ground like tears. Joshua could die. Neku can’t just sit back and watch something like that happen again. “But I can’t just do nothing.”

“You absolutely can Neku.” Joshua sighs. “I’m simply dealing with what I’m owed.”

Neku frowns and scoots closer to Joshua. Josh leans away for a moment, but looks down as he slumps against Neku’s shoulder. Neku clears his throat. “Your face deserves to meet my fist, but you don’t deserve an execution.”

“Don’t I?” Joshua tips his head back, leaning just a little bit more against Neku’s shoulder. He runs his tongue across his teeth, clearly deep in thought. “… do it.”

“What the fuck, Josh,” Neku spits. A surge of hot anger runs through him. What kind of jackass does Joshua think he is? “I’m not going to punch you right now. Do you think I’m that shitty?”

“You said I deserve it. Get it over with,” Joshua says simply with another infuriating shrug. “I’m waiting.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Neku bites, leaning away from Joshua. He grits his teeth. “Don’t fucking toy with me, Joshua. I’ve got some things I want to say, but it can wait until after I help you.”

Joshua scoffs. “You do still have all of your memory, yes? I know I haven’t taken anything I didn’t give back to you. Why would you help me at all?”

“Because you’re my friend, damn it!” Why the hell is Joshua being so difficult? Is this another of his stupid games? Neku’s anger burns hot in his chest. “I haven’t forgiven you, if that’s what you’re asking, but we’re still friends. I don’t want you to die. If you need me to become your Conductor for that, I’ll do it.”

It probably isn’t that simple. But in this moment it feels like it is. Maybe the Game won’t be so bad if he has some control over it.

“I don’t get friends, Neku,” Joshua hisses. A sympathetic pang runs through Neku’s chest, quenching some of the fire. He’s… shaking. Neku’s eyes widen as their gazes clash. Is Joshua… afraid? “Apparently I have a tendency to get them erased. You should run while you still can.”

Josh… wants him to get mad, Neku realizes. Is he trying to push him away? Well. Like hell is Neku doing anything that Joshua wants. He crosses his arms. “You don’t get a say on people caring about you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You do realize what you’re volunteering for, yes?” Joshua sneers. He’s clearly shaken. This can’t be one of Joshua’s games. Neku doesn’t think he’d ever voluntarily look so weak. “Did you like the taste of metal so much, Neku?”

Neku’s breath hitches and his chest seizes up. He hasn’t forgotten what being shot felt like, or the ring of gunfire through Joshua’s pistol. He fought so hard to come back to life. He doesn’t want to die again, he just found friends, a new goal, things to live for! But he can’t leave Joshua like this… Josh is his friend too. But Neku can’t swallow around the taste of metal in his lungs, can’t hear around the thunder of gunshot in his ears.

But then there’s a hesitant weight against his shoulder, a warmth to distract him from the memory. Neku blinks and looks down to find Joshua facing away, but leaning to brace his back against Neku’s shoulder. He’s pulled both legs up onto the couch, knees to his chest with the blanket wrapped around him as he faces away completely from Neku. Is Josh… trying to comfort him? Neku can’t see his expression like this. It’s odd, but not unpleasant.

“What would I have to do? As Conductor.”

“That’s classified information.” Joshua sinks deeper into his blanket. If Neku had to guess, that petulant gaze is locked on the fish below again. He sounds like he’s pouting. “I don’t want you as my Conductor, Neku, we’ve been over this.”

“You don’t exactly have a lot of people lining up for the position,” Neku tosses back. He frowns and leans in to press his weight against Joshua’s. A reminder that he’s there. This isn’t going to be the last time they talk. He won’t let Joshua be alone.

Joshua sighs. Neku can see the way his finger curls again and again and again in his hair. “You’d have to die again, for one, and how boring to lose your life just after having it returned to you. And then you’d have to put up with me constantly, listening to my whining and my demands and then you’d have to obey them. And most Conductors get erased in the line of fire when someone is gunning for the Composer’s position.”

Joshua’s tone is a little rushed, a little frantic. Neku can’t help but huff softly, smiling a little.

“Do you give this campaign speech to every candidate you have?” Neku snarks.

“Only the ones I don’t want.” Joshua sneers.

Neku hums in response. None of that really sounds great at all. But Joshua’s still trying to push him away. That can’t be all to it. “I’ve seen Def March in the RG. So I could still see my friends and could grab a burger here and there.” He nudges Joshua’s back. “Could grab you some of those chili dogs you like.”

Joshua’s hair pulls taut around his finger. Neku’s a little worried he’ll pull it out, but Joshua’s sigh cuts his thoughts short. “Theoretically, yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” Neku can still expand his world from UG just as well as from the RG. He can finish the murals he’s started. He wouldn’t even have to give up any goals. Except maybe graduating, but it isn’t like Neku hasn’t thought about dropping out of school before. Hell, that only sweetens the deal.

“You are unbelievably frustrating, Neku!” Joshua shouts, running a hand through his hair. Neku’s never heard the other sound so done with the situation, not even when dealing with the Grim Heaper. “I am fine. I don’t need you as my Conductor.”

“Why are you being so frustrating?” Neku shoots back, shifting to look at Joshua properly. The other boy reluctantly shifts away to meet his gaze, frowning hard. Neku’s hands start to tremble. “I know you’re in pain. Every movement projects it so hard you should just give up on trying to hide it. You’re dying, Josh, and Shibuya’s going to finish you off if you don’t let me help you. I can do that.”

Neku sighs and sits back without breaking Joshua’s gaze, even as his friend visibly flinches. “If you really don’t want me as your Conductor, then fine. But let me fill in until you find someone you can work with so that you don’t just evaporate out of existence.”

“I don’t want to kill you again, Neku!”

“What, you already killed me once for your Game. You can’t kill me now to save your own life?” Neku snaps back immediately. Joshua looks hurt, like it took everything for him to admit that. It might have. Neku doesn’t particularly care. And yeah, he’s a little bitter. He’s allowed that.

“That was before you had to go and change! Had to go and change me!” Joshua tugs at his hair with both hands, teeth ground together. Joshua’s head snaps up to meet Neku’s gaze. He looks desperate. “Why didn’t you just shoot me?”

Neku presses his lips together in a firm line, meeting the stubborn Composer’s glare with one of his own. “How could I? You put me through all kinds of hell. You stole my life. Forced me through a cruel game. You manipulated me. But I’m still trusting you despite all that. Like I keep saying.” Neku softens his voice. Joshua’s just gotten more and more visibly distressed the more he’s spoken. “You’re my friend.”

“You trusted me and I threw another bullet at you!” Joshua scowls. Neku’s struck again by how fragile he looks. A shaking kid wrapped in blankets, beaten to hell and back and… nearly crying. Joshua hiccups as he struggles to fight back tears. Neku’s heart squeezes tight in his chest. “How could you call me a friend? I don’t… I don’t understand, Neku…”

If Joshua’s trying to convince Neku that he’s a horrible person who doesn’t deserve to be saved, this heartbreaking image isn’t cutting it. He just sees a lonely kid who’s been forced into even more solitude. Slowly, timidly, Neku reaches out to curl an arm around Joshua and tug him close.

“Wha-” Joshua gasps in his ear, but doesn’t fight when Neku pulls him into a tight hug. He squirms in Neku’s grip, but rests his chin on his shoulder. “N-Neku?”

“Just shut up for a second, Josh.” Neku wraps his other arm around Joshua, shifting to rest his chin on the crown of the Composer’s head. Joshua’s chest, pressed to his, is heaving and he can hear Joshua trying to take measured breaths. Neku tightens his grip. This is… really warm. He can’t remember the last time he had a hug. He squeezes his stubborn, frustrating jackass of a friend closer. Neku closes his eyes. “I missed you.”

Joshua shifts again and takes a moment to work a hand out of the blanket. Neku hides a smile in those blond curls as a tentative hand curls in the back of Neku’s shirt. Joshua sighs softly. “I’d tell you that I missed you too, but you told me to shut up.”

“Dumbass,” Neku laughs, snorting softly into Joshua’s shoulder. Damn it. He even somewhat missed arguing with this guy. They still have a lot to work out, but Neku just can’t let him die.

Joshua chuckles back and seems to melt into the hug for a few moments before loosening his grip. He pulls back to look at Neku, smile slipping away. Neku’s own grin falls at Joshua’s serious look. “I don’t want to have to kill you again, Neku.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not crazy about the idea either, Josh.” Neku crosses his arms. He really isn’t. He remembers the taste of metal in his mouth, the way blood had welled in his lungs. But he got Joshua to smile. It makes Neku just as happy as when he made Shiki smile today. “As long as I can see my friends again and live my life to some extent, I can handle it.”

“I suppose you will know your way around the Game by this point,” Joshua muses, the curl of his knuckles pressed to his lips in thought. Neku raises an eyebrow as Joshua laughs. “Especially as I was one of your guides.”

Is that him giving in, or bragging? Knowing Josh, probably both. Neku rolls his eyes.

“Right.” His gaze tracks Joshua’s movement as he pulls his fingers through his messy hair. His chest feels heavy. “So… we should probably get this over with quickly, yeah?”

Joshua twists his hair between his fingers. “If this is what we’re doing, then… yes, best to get this done as soon as possible, before Shibuya…” Joshua falters. Clears his throat. “Before Shibuya decides she’s tired of waiting.”

Joshua waves his hand. Neku flinches as a familiar heavy gun snaps into being in Joshua’s palm. His partner raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can handle this, Neku?”

“No,” Neku answers honestly. “But the only other choice is to let you die, right?”

Joshua nods, silent.

Neku takes a deep breath- his last one, maybe. He glances towards the padlocked door, towards the RG. Does he have any loose ends he wants to take care of as living and breathing Neku?

No, actually, nothing he hasn’t been told he’ll be able to do as Conductor. He can keep his friendships, can keep Shiki and Beat and Rhyme and he’ll be able to meet Eri eventually and he’ll be able to create still.

And he’ll be able to work out his complicated feelings towards Joshua.

“Neku?”

“What?” Neku looks up at Joshua. He holds himself up a bit better now, seeming to sit up a little straighter. One hand lightly grips the headphones draped around his neck. Neku’s a little afraid that the familiarity of the gun in his other hand is what’s bolstering Joshua’s confidence. But he kind of hopes that it’s Neku offering to be his Conductor that’s helped Joshua pull himself together. Neku raises his chin stubbornly.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot.”

#TWEWY #TWEWY Bang 2020 #The World Ends With You #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #shadowstryker #submission

13 notes · View notes

mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 10: Not a Bad Thing

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Monday November 24, 2008

It’s been days since they’ve had a normal conversation...or any decent form of communication for the matter. This past week had consisted of multiple attempts (on her part) to talk to him, but each time he’d make up some excuse to cut all dialogue short. “My mum’s waiting for me outside, maybe next time?” or “I’m actually late for practice, but I’ll catch up with you later,” but of course he never did. Beyond her comprehension is how she had managed to mess everything up so badly in so little time.

Eleven minutes.

Harry had arrived eleven minutes after she had accepted Jasper’s invitation. There’s nothing she can say that can justify why she’d done it because even she isn’t so sure. Maybe she was scared. She’d been so hopeful about where this friendship with him would lead them once before, and it had costed her the first heartbreak of her life. The biggest part of her wanted so badly to wait for Harry to ask her, but a small yet seemingly influential nerve had let her insecurities take over.

She wishes she hadn’t cared so much about what other people had thought, and instead used her own judgement. She hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be for their roles to be reversed, and she only has herself to blame for it.

“I wish you’d stop stressing,” Cici tells her as they do their warmup stretches. “I doubt he’ll be able to stay mad at you for much longer.”

“You might be wrong for once,” she smiles sadly, facing down to stare numbly ahead as she reaches for her toes.

Once she and Harry had parted (or more accurately, when Harry had left her standing ashamed in the hallway), Cici had found her sitting on the floor beside her locker, a somber expression painted all over her face.

“I messed up,” is all she had mustered up in that moment of fragility, dejected eyes having fallen into her lap. And Cici –– who had already passed an equally, if not more, crestfallen boy on her way to find Y/n –– was readily equipped with her words of enthusiasm, even if she was quite disappointed in the turnout of the day. “You made one mistake –– it doesn’t make you a bad person.” Doesn’t it, though?

Cici scoffs as she tightens her ponytail. “I am many things, but I am never wrong,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone –– almost arrogantly, if you ask Y/n –– before standing up and brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “It’s not in my vocabulary.”

“But it’s in mine, apparently,” her lips curve down.

“I didn’t mean it like–”

“I know.” She rises to her feet. “It was a stupid decision and I wish I could redo it, but I can’t now. He can barely stand to be in the same room as me for more than a class period. He hasn’t dropped by the Home Ec. Room in who knows how long, and I haven’t been able to make a decent pumpkin pie since. Me? Screw up a pie? That doesn’t happen! This weekend I typed out twenty-seven texts that I never sent. Twenty-seven, Cici! Who does something like that?! All saying the same thing, that I like him so much that it makes my heart go crazy, and how it hurts that he might think otherwise because I’m going to this stupid dance with someone who’s not Harry and it fucking sucks!”

It leaves her chest to heave heavily, and her lungs to feel completely depleted of any oxygen. With an outburst like that, she’s managed to surprise herself. And while conversations amongst the other cheerleaders continue, it feels like she’s once again in the spotlight as the heat creeps up her neck and settles on her forehead and the apples of her cheeks.

Cici stands in front of her, eyes rounded in astonishment and mouth hung open wide. Her eyes quickly dart down at her arm.

“You’ve never cussed before, I literally just got chills!”

A smile slowly reemerges. “It felt good,” she admits, and she breathes out in relief as her shoulders feel lifted from at least a portion of the weight that had been set upon them. “I’ve been holding that one in.”

“No, that was totally clear.”

A restful silence falls upon them, and Y/n makes it an opportunity to reflect on the upcoming days. She needs to fix this and salvage whatever she can before they permanently fall apart. Hating to sound dramatic, but she has a strong feeling that if they can’t recover from this, then it could be over for good.

And that’s just not in the cards.

“I’m going to tell him.”

***

Tuesday November 25, 2008

“Got any plans for Thanksgiving?” Maxxie asks him.

Harry lets out a heavy sigh, staring down at his jumbled pile of flashcards on his desk. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about it constantly because it had been toying with his mind for the better part of the weekend. “You could say that, I guess.”

The answer, in all its vague glory brings about an amused grin from the boy across from him. Maxxie leans over the table and goes as far to lift his hips off the chair just invade his personal space. “What was that tone?” he gawks, wiping the cards off the surface of the table.

“Well...” he starts off timidly (a bit of annoyance mixed in because he’s going to have to clean up the mess later), and a small burp erupts from the back of his throat as a sign of his mild discomfort. “I was sort of...maybe...actually invited to...” but the tail of the sentence is nearly undecipherable to the human ear.

Maxxie squints his blue eyes across from him. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch all of it.”

Blowing out the air from his lungs, Harry’s head falls back so all he has to focus on are the dull cracks in the ceiling. Part of him still doesn’t believe it, or rather hadn’t thought it an admissible option given the recent events. He pokes his inner cheek outwards before letting out a tired groan. “We’re spending it with Y/n’s family, okay? There, I said it.”

“You’re bluffing!”

Harry whistles out a breath. “Not today, mate,” he chortles, rubbing the base of his palm against his left eye. “Jeremy literally asked my mum the day after...well, you know.”

“Are you going to be able to manage it?” there’s a weariness in Maxxie’s voice.

But honestly, Harry doesn’t know. Yes, he’s still broken up about the whole thing. Yet, the hardest part is being next to her and feeling as though he’s missed every chance that he’s had at being hers. Because he’s sure it’ll take him a long time before he’s over her, and that’s what hurts the most.

***

On Day 6, Pattern D finds itself at ten in the morning, the third class of the Tuesday before Thanksgiving break. To Y/n it’ll be the first class she has with Harry, meaning another chance to get things straightened out between them. Now that their positions are reversed, she feels even worse about having treated him so harshly the month before when there had been a hefty cloak of uncertainty to keep things understandably complicated.

Just as Mr. Daughtry’s door comes into sight, her path is intercepted by a body suddenly appearing before her.

“Hey, you!” Jasper greets her with a bright grin. There’s a moment of clumsiness when she predicts his fluid movements based on how his arm extends and fingers point in her direction as they rise to the height of her shoulder. In a slight panic, she twists arounds, pretending to fish for a pencil from the side pouch of her backpack. Luckily (for him) he’s able to stop himself from proceeding, and he shrugs the action off as he stretches that same arm over his head. With a skittish laugh he continues. “I feel like I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

“I’ve just been busy,” she mumbles, hugging her grey math notebook close to her chin. She can’t help but wonder if he isn’t late to some class, or club meeting, or some discussion about hair accessories (the latter causes her to snigger to herself).

Jasper simply nods, pulling slightly on the knot of his tie. “So, I told my mom about the formal and she’s super stoked that we’re going together,” he blushes. “I mean, I’m really happy you said yes.”

Meanwhile, the metallic taste of blood starts to fill her mouth the longer she keeps her tongue trapped between her teeth. “Yeah...” she struggles to find her voice. The right thing to do would be to come clean, to be straightforward with him and give him the honest answer he had deserved from the beginning.

Blowing the air from her nostrils, she parts her lips as they wrap around the words. “Jasper, I actually need to talk to you about that...”

“Karan! What’s up, man?”

She forces an unbothered appearance in front of Jasper’s friend –– Karan –– as they start a whole conversation of their own.

This is something she’s found to dislike very much, how Jasper always seems to forget that his friends aren’t her friends...well, at least none that she particularly like enough to call by such an intimate name. It bothers her because she doesn’t know if she can walk away or if this boy has any intention of including her or even continuing with what they’d started only minutes before.

She taps her foot contempt, not even caring if either find her actions to be tactless. All Jasper does is shoot half a smile before carrying on talking about the latest scandal to hit the tenth grade.

“I should really get to class,” she meddles in the momentary pause between speakers. “See you around.”

Before Jasper can send her off with a proper goodbye, she turns around and keeps en route for the classroom. As soon as she’s about to cross under the arch, she collides with another body, notebook falling from her hands and falling open-faced on the floor.

“’m sorry,” the other rushes out, his voice all too recognizable to her ears. Harry quickly picks up the notebook and holds it out for her to take, but all she notices is how his eyes remain low and unwilling to look at her.

“Thank you,” she whispers. He gives her a nod in response before signaling for her to go enter ahead of him. But she stays in glued in place. “Do you think we can...”

“There might be a pop quiz, I heard,” he interrupts, his hand finding the small of her back to gently prod her into the room. Despite it being nothing more than a graze of his fingers over her sweater, she still feels jolts of electricity run up her spine and tickle the back of neck.

With their arrival being just a minute or so before roll call, the only available seats are towards the very rear, two desks grouped together and pushed in the far-right corner of the room. His hand falls back to his side, the absence of his touch leaving her colder than she had just been. It makes her frown, and as they make their way to the back, the space between them only grows.

For her, this has to be the most difficult consequence to deal with.

“Alright, since everyone is settled in,” Mr. Daughtry starts, uncapping a blue dry erase marker. “Let’s go over last night’s homework.” And he ponders down at the reference notes on the podium, before the shrill squeaks of the marker against the whiteboard slowly begin to reveal an equation.

Beside her, Harry opens up his notebook, each homework problem neatly organized (this includes all the work he’d done to solve them) over two pages. She looks straight ahead, slightly squinting so she can decipher the correct answers on the board. “How is it 43?” she asks under her breath, staring down at problem #5.

“It was a negative two, not positive...which would mean b becomes positive in the expression,” he answers. He orients his notes towards her. “Right there,” he points to it with tip of his pencil. He leans in a little closer, elbow coming to rest on the table as his head tilts in her direction. Her heart goes crazy as he goes on to explain the steps of the equation. It’s the first time in days he’s willingly talked to her, even if it is about schoolwork. But she forces herself to shake off the feeling for the time being, if only to prevent herself from messing this up.

“How’d I even...” And she cross checks with his work, brows curling inward. “Oh, I’m such dummy. I didn’t even notice that!” she shakes her head and rubs her eraser over the page.

He looks at her for the first time today with a prelude of the softest smile. “You’re not.”

She offers him a toothy grin as she settles back down. Every now and again will she sneak an admiring gaze.

***

“Harry!” she calls after him. In the short period of time she’d taken to pack her things, he had already fled the room by the time she looked up. It took squeezing her way through two bulky juniors from their class to quickly find his mop of brown curls in the crowded corridor.

At the sound of his name, he begrudgingly comes to a stop. He sighs and scratches the back of his head, his internal monologue arguing that he should continue forward. The decision is to be outweighed by a greater influence.

“Hi,” Y/n says in a bit of a wheeze.

“Hi,” he returns, nodding. He watches as those around them disperse in their difference directions, until the hallway soon becomes barren during this first lunch period. “What’s going on?” he asks simply.

She absentmindedly goes to mess with a loose strand of hair. “I was just...” she snivels (allergy season can be a real nuisance). “Wanted to say that I’m really looking forward to Thursday.”

“Oh,” his mouth forms an o with his lips. He glances to the floor and wriggles his feet as though pebbles were buried in his shoes. “Yeah, I think my mum’s bringing trifle or some kind of dessert.”

“That’s sweet of her,” she affirms. “Are you excited?”

Harry looks up, noticing the hope embedded in her eyes. “It could be fun,” he says evenly. “Your dad seems pretty keen on watching the Packers game together. Mason, too, I guess.”

“Mason hasn’t stopped talking about it,” she admits shyly, but can’t help but giggle at the thought of her brother. “You know, he told his teacher that you were his best friend.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh. “Really?” Y/n nods enthusiastically. “He’s a cool kid. Tell him I’m honored.”

“You can always tell him on Thursday.”

Harry smiles. “I will.”

***

Thursday November 27, 2008

Thanksgiving Day has never been more stressful for Y/n. Not only has she been baking since last night (did someone say four different flavors of pie and three fall-themed cookies, and a carrot cake bigger than her dad’s head?) but she must have changed her outfit at least nine times in the last half hour. The Styles’ are expected to arrive at around 5pm, which means she only has another forty-five minutes to come up with the perfect ensemble. Earlier in the afternoon, it had just occurred to her that she hasn’t met Anne nor Gemma, and she’d be dishonest if she said she wasn’t ultra-nervous about it.

Gosh, how her stomach feels so full of air.

She wishes she could be as carefree as Mason because all he’s been fretting over is which boardgame to play with Harry after dinner and which Disney movie he’s going to have running on the laptop whilst Jeremy slaves away to the television at approximately 8pm.

“Do you think Harry likes Monopoly or Connect Four?” the little boy asks. She tears her attention from her cookie display to look down at her brother who’s holding two boxes up for her to examine.

“But, Mase,” she giggles, wiping her hands on her apron. “You don’t know how to play Monopoly.”

Mason looks at the box in his right hand and eyes it carefully. He gives her a signal of understanding before trotting off back into the living room to set up. Shaking her head, she continues setting up the cookies along the three-tier server. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to impress their guests. “It’ll be fine,” she tells herself.

***

The doorbell rings, and almost instantly does it cause alarm within Y/n.

“Oh my god!” she panics, running around the kitchen to quadruple check that everything is exactly as it should be. “Dad! Dad! Did you–”

“Yes.”

“How about the–”

“Yes.”

“Okay but what about–”

“Y/n,” Jeremy says sternly from the foyer. She closes her eyes as she listens to the bottom rim of the door brush along the mat. “Welcome! Nice to see you again, Anne. Harry, ready for that Packers game? Oh, hello! I don’t think I’ve met you yet?”

Her eyes widen, he must be talking to Gemma! Harry had told her stories about how close they are since Anne’s job requires a lot of traveling. Oh gosh, she must hate her for having done what she did to her brother. She knows this because she would absolutely despise anyone who would ever dare to hurt Mason. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she breathes unevenly and braces herself over the counter.

“Not to validate anything your father says,” Olivia sneaks up from behind, “but you really do need to relax.” She takes a good look at her daughter. “Weren’t you wearing the brown sweater?”

But before Y/n has the chance to answer, three new faces enter from the side, her heart skipping over multiple beats as she becomes tightlipped.

“Hello!” Olivia greets them. “We’re so happy to have you join us! I’m Olivia, by the way.”

Harry’s sister nudges him from behind. “Oh, um...” he looks behind him. “This is my mum Anne, and my sister Gemma.”

“So nice to meet you,” Anne smiles, and she extends a hand to Olivia, Gemma does the same. “You have such beautiful home. Are those chrysanths you have along the walkway? They’re absolutely stunning!”

Olivia covers a hand over her heart. “I like you already,” she sobs playfully. “Finally, someone who gets it! Two kids and neither of them share a love for gardening.”

“You can say that again,” Anne returns. The two share a laugh, and Olivia leads them into the dining room to continue on with their chat.

It leaves Y/n with Harry and Gemma, and she isn’t even sure where Jeremy might have wandered off to now. Harry whispers something into Gemma’s ear, and she rolls her eyes before shoving her elbow into his side. Y/n can’t help but wonder what he’s saying. Is it about her? Has he found something wrong? Stop this! She reaches behind her and pinches herself. Relax.

Taking a bold step forward, she strikes up conversation. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Gemma replies, a warm aura radiating from her being.

Y/n tilts her head. “Good things, I hope.”

“Well,” the older girl starts, sending a smirk at her brother and sniggering when his eyes widen in realization. “This one never stops talking about you.”

Harry gasps, “Now wait just a minute.” But as soon as he’s about to come up with a rebuttal, he’s immediately attacked from behind with a hug. Short arms lock his legs together, and if it weren’t for his sister standing there for support, he would have most definitely fallen over. “There he is!”

“Harry!” Mason giggles, reaching his arms above his head, a notorious signal for Harry to lift him up. “Did you miss me?”

“Duh!” Harry teases. “How can I not miss my bestest mate?”

***

Dinner goes better than either she or Harry can expect. Their families seem to have taken well with one another, Anne and Olivia having already formed that instant bond over maternal care and green thumbs. Jeremy is shocked to hear that Gemma is interested in programming herself, and he’s even more impressed to learn that she’s in the process of building her own website. As for Mason, well...it’s a little hard not to fall in love this boy when all he pours out into the world is happiness, and maybe a little bit of cupcake frosting.

A seating arrangement had predetermined their positions at the table (thanks to Olivia and her brilliant mind). As it had happened, Y/n and Harry are seated beside each other, their chairs closer than usual with the extra chair on his other side. Although, it became apparent throughout dinner of the gap –– while not visible to the human eye –– that remains between them.

Y/n doesn’t understand why that is, especially since they’d seemed to be on better terms on Tuesday. While they hadn’t eaten lunch together, he did sit next to her during Spanish class so they could work on the conjugation exercise together. Sure, it hadn’t been the most romantic thing they could have done, but it was a start, right? But now she feels bothered that the extent of their communication today has been polite smiles and requests to pass whatever dish the other is closest to.

Deciding she’s had enough of this, she turns to him. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she whispers to him.

“It is the holidays, so...” he keeps his answer elusively.

She has to play it back in her mind to determine if there’s any underlying meaning behind it. Pushing around the remains of her pumpkin pie she speaks up again. “Are you still mad at me?”

He takes his time before answering, mulling over the words carefully. Yet, there’s no intelligible way to organize them to make it sound any better. “It’s not that simple.”

And that manages to stir something within her. “It’s either yes or no.”

“Y/n,” he warns, not wanting to cause a scene in front of their families. “Now’s just not the time to talk about it.”

She scoffs, shaking her head and willing herself not to cry. “It’s never the time with you.” And she excuses herself from the table.

***

Giving himself one last glance in the mirror, he wraps his hand around the copper knob. He takes a long breath as he prepares himself to rejoin everyone and pretend that he doesn’t wish he could be anywhere else today. For majority of the day, he had thought he’d moved on from the rejection. However, the more time he spends with her, the more those feelings regress him back to those open wounds. Despite how much he likes watching football with Jeremy and playing Connect Four with Mason, he can’t help but get distracted whenever she comes over and asks thoughtful questions about the game. And that distraction causes him to remember how difficult it’s been to keep up this charade.

When he opens the door, he’s immediately met with her figure looking up at him with doe-like eyes. His jaw clenches as he tries to ignore how the pout on her plump lips makes a part of him go a little crazy. What’s worse is that he shouldn’t feel this way, not right now at least. Not when he’s trying to stay mad for a little while longer.

“Please,” she starts off faintly, looking all too small as she stands before him. His expression softens only the smallest amount that she isn’t sure if maybe it was just a twitch. “Can we just talk?” She can see it in his eyes, the answer that’s about to roll off his tongue so blatantly obvious. And before he has a chance to decline, she latches onto his hand and starts to walk him towards the stairs. They’re careful not to draw attention to themselves as they practically tiptoe through the dining area where Anne and Olivia continue to share embarrassing stories from when both Harry and Y/n were much younger.

The grip she has on him while she leads him up the steps surprises him. Her soft hand squeezes his so tightly that his palms start to sweat from the sheer pressure (and maybe from a bubbling sense of nervousness that’s brewing inside). “Is this really necessary...” he hears himself muttering out loud, even though he’s expecting no answer in return. Although, he may have just felt just the smallest bit of added compression around his fingers as they round the corner.

Once they’re in her room, she’s sure to close the door this time around. If she’s learned anything from the numerous times they’ve been interrupted, it’s that one can never be too sure around her family –– or anyone really. She debates whether to take it all the way with caution, standing frozen as she stares down at the lock with hesitancy.

“Are you planning on keeping me hostage or something?” he chuckles lightly, plopping down on her bed, having already accepted his defeat. He combs his fingers through his hair a couple times before allowing himself the chance to relax.

She exhales fully and closes her eyes. “If that’s what it takes.” With the lock pinched securely between her fingers, the faintest sound erupts within the space. Click. “Then, yes.” Rotating on her heel, she presses her back up against the door, hand still loosely grasping the handle as she tilts her head back. She keeps her eyes low at first, but as seconds on the clock begin to outnumber them, she has no choice but to have them ascend.

He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she says shakily, whatever confidence she had absorbed seems to have fizzled out. But she can’t back down now, not when the opportunity is right in front of her. “I knew you were going to ask me, and I swear I was going to wait but then Jasper completely caught me off guard and then everyone was watching and I just...I just didn’t...I just didn’t think. It was stupid and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just want things to go back to normal.” She crosses her arms over her chest, a twinge of embarrassment filling her as her own words repeat through her ears.

He shifts uncomfortably. All the feelings he’d been trying to avoid are being unlocked, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. It’s not even that he’s mad (he’s found it impossible to harvest any ill-feelings for the girl in front him), it’s more that he’s dreading whatever might come out of her mouth because he isn’t sure he can handle another rejection. “We don’t have to talk about it, really. We’re fine,” he says as neutrally as he can.

“No, Harry. We’re not. And you know it.”

He knows she’s right, no matter how much he wants to deny it for the sake of saving his own heart. But now that she’s locked him in, he has no choice but to confront the issue. “Look, whatever might have been between us, I’ll get over it, okay? I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to feel–”

“No!” she almost screams, and she marches right to where his knees bend off the side of the mattress with her lips pursed in a newfound determination. “That’s the complete opposite of what I want to happen.”

His green eyes are fixed on her. “What do you mean?” he whispers. But she shakes her head, as though regretting the words to come out of her mouth. Because now they implicate her of the thing she’s been dying to say, and there’s no coming back once it’s said.

Not even thinking, he places his hands on her waist to bring her closer. She still refuses to look at him, her arms further wrapping around her vulnerable self. There’s something in the way her bottom lip moves in the slightest matter that intrigues him. And now he just needs to know. “Hey, look at me,” and he gently cups her cheek to encourage her. “What?”

She stays quiet as she tries to get her breathing back to a normal pace, but the feeling of his stare causes a sweat to form down her back. “I don’t want you to be over us.”

With that, she finally looks forward.

It’s about time one of them be brave.

“I don’t want you to be over me,” she says in the most delicate manner. “I don’t want you to get over me because...” She uncrosses her arms, only to have them wrap around his neck as she settles between his open legs. “Because I don’t want to have to get over you.”

Their eyes meet, and she lets her forehead fall against his. The tips of their noses nudge against each other. A sigh of pure bliss fights its way out of him. He pulls her even closer, thumbs rubbing small circles into the plush of her hips. Her heart beats erratically, as does his as they bask in the echo of a declaration. Two pairs of lips pull up into benevolent smiles before finally coming together.

Eight letters.

There are eight letters to be remained unsaid (until another time).

***

#president!harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles drabbles #harry styles au #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction preferences #writing

145 notes · View notes

hockeyisreligion · 4 years

Text

The One That Got Away - Part 5

hey guys, this is a bit of a filler chapter with A LOT of dialogue but still, pls enjoy!! (I’m procrastinating finishing my finals papers so)

link to part 4

“So what is up with you guys?” Sarah quizzes Talia the minute Elaine excuses herself to the bathroom during their brunch date.

“With who?” Talia murmurs back.

“You and Adam.”

Talia almost spit out her coffee. “Um,” she coughs, regaining her breath. “Nothing.”

Sarah scoffs. “Tal, you are being naive.”

“How am I being naive? I don’t even know you are going on about!” Talia whisper-yells back to her, not wanting to disturb the other people having brunch around them. They were at Elaine and Dave’s country club and Talia did not want them to look bad.

“Adam is still in love with you.”

It was Talia’s turn to scoff. “Its been 6 years.”

“Yes, 6 years and neither of you got to have closure.”

Talia spots Elaine coming back from the bathroom, “I’m not having this conversation with you.” To Talia, Sarah was her sister and Talia knew Sarah was just asking her as a sister but also for the interest of her brother. Sarah, being the oldest felt she needed to protect everyone in the family.

“What did I miss?” Elaine smiles taking a seat beside Sarah and across from Talia and Tessa.

“I was telling Talia about hockey and school.” Tessa thankfully changes the subject.

“How has your summer training been going?” Sarah asks, which Talia was grateful that she didn’t bring up what they were actually talking about.

“Good,” Talia somewhat drowns out the conversation they were having thinking about what Sarah had said.

____

Talia and Adam had been more regularly texting each other, talking about their days, Adam’s workouts, and Talia’s coworkers. They were slowly becoming closer and closer of friends and Adam was so happy about that. When Talia and him broke up, they obviously broke up relationship wise, but their friendship also broke up with them too. Adam hated not being able to talk to her and confide in her as he had been so used to that since they were best friends since they were 7. So to be back talking to her almost daily made Adam’s heart and head happy.

They were even planning on meeting up for drinks that night after Talia got off work. This would be the first time they hung out in person since they went for coffee. Talia was a little nervous because they hadn’t talked a lot about their break up and the messiness that came with that. They were in a little bubble and Talia nor Adam wanted for it to pop.

Adam and Talia had decided on a low key sports bar near Talia’s work to meet. Talia had a feeling she would be a little overdressed in her blouse and dress pants but she didn't care all that much.

Adam was already there when Talia got off work and had downed a shot to take the edge off. He ordered a beer for himself and got Talia a cider they had on draught, he hoped she would like that.

“What would you do if I told you I detest hard cider?” Talia jokes giving Adam a little side hug before sliding into the booth across from him.

“I would be seriously shocked because you used to drink apple juice from the gallon growing up.”

“Well I guess you won’t be shocked.” Talia chuckles taking a sip of her drink.

“How was the day at work?”

“Good, I basically had client meetings all day so it was busy, flew by. What about you? How was your workout?”

“It was tough, coach worked us hard today. Heavy lift and basically bag skated us.” Adam replies referring to his offseason trainer, his father as coach.

“Do you ever get annoyed at having your dad as your trainer?”

Adam chuckles. “All the time, he’s a menace. And if you screw up or don’t work as hard he tells on me to my own mother.”

That makes Talia smile. They continue talking until their drinks are empty and Talia springs up to get the next round. “Canadian?” Talia asks with a smile.

Adam stutters, “Yes but put it on my tab, I already have one going.”

“Not a chance.”

Talia returns shortly after to a girl talking to Adam. Talia was used to it by now, the Lowry family was pretty well known in Calgary as Adam’s dad was a NHL player and as Adam is now.

“Babe,” Adam greets with a glint in his eye as Talia slides him his own beer.

“Hi,” Talia greets back to Adam and the woman with him. Talia’s brain short-circuited a little when Adam called her that, she didn’t realize how much she missed hearing it. “I’m Talia,” Talia reaches her hand out for the girl to shake.

“My name is Claire.” The girl responds and Talia gets to have a good look at her. She was petite, slim figure with blonde hair. It takes a second for Talia to clue in to what was happening, making her chuckle a little under her breathe. Adam has slept with this girl before and she was talking to him again, hence Adam’s red face and the use of the pet name.

“Did you wanna sit?” Talia asks, moving over in the booth. For some reason, Talia wanted to see Adam squirm.

Claire looks at Adam with an unreadable expression. “No, thats okay. My friends are waiting for me, I just wanted to say hi. Thank you though,” Claire swiftly answers, putting her hand on Adam’s forearm before walking away. “It was good seeing you again Adam.”

“It was nice meeting you” Talia answers back with a smirk on her face, looking at Adam the whole time. Once Claire is gone, Adam visibly exhales and looks down at his lap. “She seems really nice.” Talia comments.

“Oh hush,” Adam laughs a little. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

“What did I just experience there?” Talia asks with a smirk, wanting to hear Adam say it.

“Talia,” Adam starts.

“Oh don’t worry about me,” Talia pauses, “babe.”

This makes Adam bark out in laughter. “I can’t tell if you are mad or not.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I had you pretend to be my girlfriend just so I could avoid an interaction with someone I slept with once.”

“Oh? So she wasn’t an ex?” Talia replies, wanting to continue Adam’s pain.

“What?” Adam asks confused. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? What is so wrong with her Adam?”

This makes Adam stutter. “Nothing-nothing is wrong with her. She’s cute, but she’s not my type.”

“What’s your type then?” Talia questions.

“Why are you making me squirm so damn much?” Adam huffs.

This makes Talia crack, bringing a smile to her face and a little laugh to Adam’s ears. “I’m sorry, but THAT was so much fun.”

Adam pouts a little. “I hated every second of that interrogation.” Adam begins to crack a smile.

“I couldn’t help it,” Talia shrugs. “So how long ago did you sleep with her?”

Adam pauses, wondering how he should go about answering this question. “Um.” Adam pauses, but decides against not answering. “Last summer I wanna say.”

“The sex is that good? That she’s coming up to you in public places a year later after having sex with you ONCE?” Talia mock asks.

“Remind me again, why exactly am I speaking to you about this?” Adam questions, kind of baffled at how the conversation has turned.

“Because isn’t that what friends do?” Talia replies back sipping her drink.

“Pretend to be each other’s boyfriend or girlfriend to hide a run-in with someone you have slept with?”

“Oh? So this won’t the first and only interaction we have tonight? I’m impressed Lowry.”

Adam groans, “Please stop.”

“I get it, you are a hot shot hockey player who is single and you look like that so.” Talia points to his body.

“Look like what?” Adam smirks.

“Is the huge ego an act? or did the NHL really change you?” Talia jokes.

“You know me.” Adam replies seriously, halting the light hearted conversation for a moment.

“I know your sense of humour has gotten terrible.” Talia smiles, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Okay fine,” Adam sits up straight. “Tell me about the guys you have slept with.”

“Well to be fair, I have only met one of the girls you had sex with.”

“Fine, just one guy then. What does he look like?” Adam sips his beer.

“Well hopefully none of them come up to us tonight,” Talia jokes. “I’ve hooked up with one of my co-workers.”

“Which one?”

Talia chuckles, “Like I would have told you about him.”

“Why? Aren’t we friends?”

“His name is Jake, he works in another division at my office.”

“Is his job similar to yours?”

“Not really,” Talia pulls at the sleeves of her blouse. “He — he owns part of the firm.”

Adam whistles. “I knew you had it in you.”

Talia blushes, feeling so weird that she was feeling comfortable with sharing this type of information with Adam, her high school sweetheart.

“Was it a one time thing?”

“Yeah, we both had too much to drink at the office Christmas party.”

“Thats going to be a great story to tell your kids one day,” Adam jokes, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Oh shut up,” Talia laughs. “Now you have to tell me the story behind Claire.”

“I don’t think it can compare to your romance novel of a story.” Adam jokes. “We meet one night at a bar and went home together” Adam shrugs.

“So are you more of a one-night stand type or a friends with benefits thing?” Talia asks.

Adam thinks about his answer carefully. He found it so odd to be talking about this stuff with Talia but it felt nice to be able to be friends like this. “One night stand type,” Adam comments. “Is that bad?”

“Why would it be bad?”

“I don’t know some people are not into that.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean your opinion isn’t valid.” Talia replies, making Adam feel a little better.

“What about you?”

“Um,” Talia pauses. “I’m a little bit of neither, but probably I’m more of a benefits person”

“Really?” Adam questions.

“Yeah,” Talia replies sheepishly, sort of put off by Adam’s reaction to her choice.

“Why would you say neither?”

“I never really do the one-night stand thing often. In university I had a benefits thing.” Talia shrugs. “I’m more of a relationship girl.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, did you date after us?”

Talia nods. “I’m mean sure I dated other people, but enough to be in a serious relationship? No. Not until Liam.”

Talia was pretty sure Adam had known about her ex-boyfriend as he was from Calgary, he went to a different high school than they did, and she figured Sarah had told him.

“Who’s Liam?”

“My ex-boyfriend. We dated after I moved home from university so like two years ago we dated. He went to Nelson, we met through Natasha’s boyfriend.”

“How did that go?”

“Good, we were good until he wanted to get more serious and I panicked. I wasn’t ready for that type of relationship so we broke it off.”

“I didn’t know that,” Adam comments.

“I figured Sarah would have told you.”

“She didn’t.”

“Have you had any girlfriends since us?”

Adam cringes a little, he was sure Talia knew about Emily. “One, Emily.”

“What was Emily like?”

“My second year in St. John’s, she had moved there for school. To be honest, she reminded me of you and I think thats why I dated her.”

“That’s unfair to her.” Talia comments.

“I know, but I was still grieving our break up.”

“How long did you date her for?”

“It was like on and off for a year and a half.” Adam replied, the last thing he wanted was for Talia to get uncomfortable.

“So you tried long distance with her?” Talia asks quietly, she was hurt just thinking about that.

“Yeah, for a couple months before I broke up with her.”

“Oh.”

“Talia, I didn't love her.”

“She just reminded you of me.”

“She is nothing like you. You two are incomparable.”

“But you were able to compare us.”

“I was 18 and completely stupid and immature.”

“It sounded like you tried to replace me.” Talia murmurs, downing the rest of her drink.

“No one could ever replace you.”

#TOTGA #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #adam lowry fanfiction #winnipeg jets imagines #The One That Got Away

50 notes · View notes

ptrbprkrs · 5 years

Text

oh, if you only knew

summary: peter believes you don’t like him, and vice-versa, but everyone knows you and peter like each other. when you two are paired up during a team exercise for the academic decathlon team, the truth comes out. pairing: peter parker x reader warnings: mutual pining, miscommunication, fluff, dialogue heavy word count: 2.6k words notes: prompt “For someone so smart, you’re certainly an idiot.” for @starkparker’s 10k celebration! thank you for letting me participate and i’m sorry i’m 20 years late || this is trash and has been in the oven for so long i’m really done with the story but i hope someone likes this ahhH

gif posted by sansvstarks

In Midtown’s library, you, Ned, and MJ sat around the table, studying diligently for the upcoming academic decathlon competition. Sitting beside MJ, you just threw a rolled up paper ball at Ned, sticking your tongue out at him, when a panting boy came up to the table with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” He greeted everyone with a smile and dazzling eyes.

Except at you. When his gaze landed on you last, his smile slowly faded. Looking up at him, a smile almost crept against your face, a reaction from being naturally friendly and simply head over heels for him, but you forced yourself not to. Thus, with tight lips, you nodded to greet him, mirroring his apathetic expression.

You’ve tried to talk to Peter before, but he wouldn’t say much. Even through text, he would barely reply more than a word or two. Peter made it clear he didn’t like you back, not even as a friend.

Now you were always unsure of how to act around him.

Your eyes stuck to your book, avoiding eye contact with Peter as he sat down in the empty chair beside Ned. In contrast, the three figures surrounding you didn’t utter a word and simply glanced at each other in silence. MJ caught Peter’s attention and kept looking back and forth between you and him, hinting to the brunette he should do something. Peter squinted his eyes in confusion.

After some time passed, the tension in the air thick and blatant between you and Peter, you hastily announced your goodbyes to Ned and MJ, leaving without another word.

Peter softly let out a breath, his head twisted towards the sight behind him, as he observed the way you floated towards the exit, your hair swaying with each graceful step you took.

The second the door closed, which caused an echo throughout the library, MJ broke the silence.

“For someone so smart, you’re certainly an idiot.” Immediately, Ned and Peter’s heads whipped towards her direction. Like always, her nose was back in her sketchbook. The train of confusion tore through Peter’s mind faster and faster, not stopping any time soon.

“What do you mean?”

“She likes you dumbass,” MJ’s gentle sketching protruded within his ears. He wondered if she was drawing him; she always loved to draw others in crisis - not that he was in crisis. Not in crisis at all. “And you like her too-don’t try to deny it.”

“What?” he laughed with a little shakiness. He turned to Ned for support, but Ned wasn’t doing a great job; his friend pretended to be occupied with studying. Peter’s focus darted back to the decathlon captain.

“I don’t like her and she doesn’t like me. At all. How could I even like her?”

Lifting her head from her sketchbook, she pointed the tip of her pencil’s eraser towards Peter. “You like her so much that you blocked her out. She told me she tried talking to you a few times, but you never let the conversation go anywhere.”

“Because she doesn’t like me!” he protested, more bitterly than he intended.

“No,” MJ sternly shot, her eyes like lazerbeams. She pointed her pencil towards the exit behind him. “Can’t you see? She tried to talk to you,” Pencil back to Peter. “And she thinks you don’t like her. Now she’s embarrassed to be around you.”

Once again, Peter glanced over to Ned. This time, Peter’s best friend awkwardly looked away, even from his books.

Was Peter really that blind? You two have been like this for months now. He couldn’t recall how things ended up like this, but this was the game you kept playing.

Every time Peter stepped into the room, you’d leave.

Every time you stepped into the room, Peter would desist to speak.

And yet, whenever Ned or MJ spoke of you in front of Peter when you weren’t around, he’d make an effort to listen in on the conversation. Super-hearing or not, he was conspicuous when he’d stare at the respective speaker with starry, intrigued eyes.

And vice-versa. Whenever Ned or MJ spoke of Peter in front of you, you’d freeze and focus on what they were saying about your crush. You didn’t make it any less obvious when you even inquired further about his life, asking questions about him since Peter wouldn’t tell you himself.

The revelation engulfed the corners of Peter’s mind. Blinking several times, he began to stammer incoherently, unable to comprehend the new knowledge. “I-I-”

“Let her in, Peter.” The observant girl cut him off. “She cares about you. More than you think.”

Afterwards, any mentions of Peter and you were exempt from the conversation and things were back to normal. Ned and MJ bantered while all Peter, still reeling in disbelief, could think about was the possibility of you actually liking him back.

On the other hand, MJ’s words echoed over and over.

Let her in, Peter.

She cares about you.

But Peter couldn’t afford to let any more people into his heart, not with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Two days later, the academic decathlon team met up in the usual spot after school. MJ sat on the steps of the raised stage while Mr. Harrington was too busy texting his new girlfriend in the corner of the room. Your feet slid across the floor as you entered the room, noting everyone spread around.

A habit you couldn’t shake off, your gaze immediately fell upon Peter, who was talking to Ned. He laughed so bubbly, so lively. A pain ached momentarily in your chest; you wished you were the reason behind that laugh.

MJ caught sight of you, the last member to arrive for practice, coming in. Consequently, she barked:

“I’m pairing you off for today’s team-building exercise!”

Your heart skipped a beat. MJ never paired off people for team-building.

The captain glared at Peter with a smirk.

“Parker!” All eyes were now on him. You held your breath, wondering who name she would call next.

She called yours.

“You guys are together. Leeds…”

Walking towards each other, meeting each other halfway in the middle of the room, and each respective party with averting eyes, you two finally arrived to face each other about three feet away.

“Today’s warm-up exercise is to give your partner five compliments. Go back and forth between each other and compliment them on anything!”

Both of your eyes wandered, immediately seeing and hearing the scattered three pairs, complimenting each other without difficulty. Having your heart in your throat and ears didn’t make anything easier. You glanced over at the wavy haired boy, who still avoided eye contact too.

Every second passed excruciatingly. You even stared at the piece of gum stuck on the floor next to Peter’s red Converse shoes and mentally grimaced. You figured one of you had to speak first, so after what felt like forever, you finally found the courage within you to speak up.

“I…” You gulped. God, you wish you could disappear. Even being that old gum on the floor seemed to be a better position than you were in. Defeated, you realized you may as well just make the best out of the situation.

“I like how smart you are.” With a small smile, you quickly glanced up to see if Midtown’s brightest gave any reaction to your compliment.

He nodded in thanks, but still diverted his gaze elsewhere. Why did Michelle have to pair the two of you out of all the others?

Peter then rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. To your surprise, he mustered up a compliment. “I, uh, can say the same for you.”

His eyes glanced up and finally met yours for a few seconds. Your breathing hitched and you swore the earth stopped, or maybe it was your heart giving out. “I like how you study hard, even though you don’t have to.”

Your eyebrows ruffled alongside a tilt of the head, shocked at his response. Your chest warmed at the thought of Peter thinking anything highly of you, or just anything at all.

“Uhm, I…” What else could you say next? “I guess I like how passionate you are with the Stark Internship. I know it’s hard to juggle everything, but I get it. After graduating, it’ll be great for your future and I really admire that.”

Peter’s mouth dropped a little too much and you chuckled, fearing of having to pick it off the floor. He blinked in disbelief a few times, still trying to register your words. The flattery began to make his cheeks crimson with joy and his lips curl upwards.

Not wanting to copy your compliment again, he chimed, “You work hard. I always see you helping with the other clubs during lunch and after school. I mean, not always-that’s a little creepy-I mean, when I’m around, I do.” Peter inhaled sharply with pressed lips. His fingers tugged on his jeans tighter as he restrained himself from doing anything more embarrassing. A large exhale followed.

“Anyway,” he continued, trying to save face, “I like how you work hard and I admire you too.”

You had begun to play with your fingers, mentally compiling the next thing you could say. Then, holding onto the perfect thought, you bit the inside of your bottom lip.

“I think you have good heart, Peter.” It was his turn to tilt his head to the side, caught off guard by your sweet words. “You always try to be at our meetings and our study practices. I know you leave unexpectedly at times for whatever reason, but you try your best. And Ned tells me that you take care of your Aunt May a lot. I think you’re really sweet.”

You huffed, relieved that you two were almost done. Just two more compliments left. You rocked on the balls of your feet and were about to face the others again when Peter turned your attention away.

“Okay, I don’t mean to do this-sounding like I keep copying your compliments because I can’t think of any myself-but I mean every word I say. I think you have an even better heart than me…”

With a pout, you began to shake your head in disagreement. The persistent boy dared not to digress. “...for thinking so highly of me when I’m not a good team member or friend or anything. I don’t think I deserve you-” Peter blinked and caught himself in mid-thought, aware of what he was saying. He coughed, correcting himself. “I mean, your kind words.”

“Peter...” You stepped a little closer to him, now only a couple feet away.

“You deserve everything great.”

Your eyes scanned Peter, noting all the little details of him and wondered what he was possibly thinking as he continued to have a hard time peering at you for more than a few moments. Trying to figure out what to say next, you closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, and let your heart take control.

Opening your eyes, you, barely in a whisper, opined, “I like your eyes.”

The slight glisten. The way his eyes dance when he smiled or laughed. The way they sparkled every time he walked into a room. You broke away from his trance and were red from head to toe.

“I-I really like your eyes,” was all you could assemble as a follow-up.

Don’t say the same thing. Peter mentally told himself. Anything but her eyes. Not that her eyes aren’t gorgeous but-

“I like your smile,” he blurted. He nodded, content with his response. “You have a beautiful smile.”

Funny enough, his compliment made your lips curve into a smile. You couldn’t believe what was happening.

“I like...” Your eyes tried to meet his for the last compliment. Your heart took the lead and without thought, you focused your stare on him as you stated-

“You.”

This time, Peter’s gaze didn’t break whatsoever. Piercing into you, his look reached the depths of your soul and shook you to the tips of your toes and fingers.

“I like you, too.”

It felt like you two were the only ones in the room, staring into each other’s eyes like there was no tomorrow. However, you broke your gaze soon after, realizing the room was awfully silent. Turning around, you noticed the silence lingering in the air. Everyone on the team, even Mr. Harrington, witnessed your reciprocating confessions.

“Penis Parker is finally getting some!”

“Shut up, Flash!” MJ retorted. The captain looked at the two of you from afar and nodded with a pleased smile. “Well, I think that was one of the better team building exercises we’ve done. Let’s get ready to practice.”

It was one of the only times Peter had stayed through a full decathlon meeting. Throughout the entire practice, you and him kept exchanging glances and small smiles with each other. By the end, you said your good-byes to everyone and began to walk down the hall in the opposite direction of most of the members.

All of a sudden, Peter’s “Wait up!” echoed in the hallway before he finally jogged to catch up with you. When he stopped and stood in front of you, you two began to speak at the same time.

“I just wanted to apologize-”

“No, I’m sorry-”

Both of you halted, laughed, and realized maybe you two were more alike than you thought.

“You go first,” Peter said.

You winced, “I’m sorry for being rude and always leaving whenever you came into the room. I just didn’t know how to handle you not liking me as even a friend. It was stupid of me.”

He shook his head, reflecting the same regrets. “I wanted to apologize for not talking to you, back then. I thought you didn’t like me as a friend either when you started talking to me. I’m really sorry. I’m not the best at these things.”

An abrupt buzzing came from Peter’s jean pocket and his eyes widened as he frantically grabbed the phone out to shut off the alarm.

“Sorry, I have to go. It’s the-”

“Stark Internship.” You beamed as you finished his sentence.

“Yeah,” he mirrored your smile. “Uhm,” he plucked at the sleeve of his sweater and his eyes looked towards the floor. “So, there’s this deli near my place-”

“Delmar’s? Please say it’s Delmar’s.”

Peter glanced up and he chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“The best sandwiches in Queens. If you said anywhere else, I’d probably have to fight you.”

His tongue slid against the left side of his bottom teeth, raised an eyebrow, and nodded softly in agreement. “Anyways, like you said, best in Queens. I go there all the time and their sandwiches are the best and I forgot you just said that so you probably go there all the time too, but I was just wondering if you might wanna… I don’t know, get something there sometime? Maybe? With me?”

Peter’s voice crack made you hold in a giggle; oh how adorable he was. You inhaled deeply before answering, keeping Peter on edge.

“It’s a date.”

“Great! Great, I’ll text you later tonight after my nightly rounds-” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. He clarified, “-my nightly rounds at the Stark Internship.”

Watching him walk away backwards, you noticed he was about to walk into the hallway pillar. “Peter, watch ou-”

Dodging it just in time, he swiftly twirled around it as if nothing happened and coolly ran his fingers through his hair. “I totally saw that there. I knew that was there.”

Laughing you called out, “Text me later!” as he grew further from your line of sight.

“I will!” he promised with a wave before running out of the school.

You glowed brightly as you went home, anticipating Peter’s next move.

Maybe MJ was right. Peter thought with a wide smile as he ran to the nearest alleyway.

Maybe Peter could afford to let one other person into his heart.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #userkavvy #one shot

496 notes · View notes

suits-of-woe · 5 years

Note

Top 5 Edmund moments? Thank you!

Thank you! I can literally never talk about him enough and honestly it was hard to pick just 5 but honestly if I’d written any more even about these ones tumblr probably would have been broken by the sheer word count so here we go.

(edit: forgot to tag @princess-of-france if you’re interested)

1. “Call by the trumpet: he that dares approach / On him, on you, who not? I will maintain / My truth and honor firmly.” AND “In wisdom I should ask thy name / But…What safe and nicely I might well delay / By rule of knighthood, I distain and spurn.” aka The Duel

I don’t actually know if I’ve ever talked about this but I think this is one of the most likable in Edmund moments in the play. Reasons I love it:

a. He is SO ready to fight. This is what I was talking about when I said Edmund is such an impulsive disaster compared to other villains he often gets compared with, he doesn’t hesitate here, he’s ready to go. And you can’t convince me he couldn’t have found a way out of this – Albany’s all like “I dismissed all the soldiers so now there’s no one to fight for you” but like? This is the same Edmund who got a random captain to agree to kill the literal ex-king and his daughter (who’s also a queen!) basically just by telling him to man up; you can’t convince me Edmund couldn’t find a single champion willing to fight this super poor and sketchy-looking guy for him. But instead he’s all in, he gets into a fight or flight situation and his brain just goes FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT and he does it without a second thought. Amazing.

b. He really doesn’t care about status at all. Like sure it’s all well and good to dismiss social distinctions when you’re a bastard and have been disinherited for it but this scene shows it’s not just opportunism – Edmund SO believes in what he’s been advocating the entire play. He doesn’t care who he’s fighting, even now that he’s risen to the top, he knows the rules of knighthood don’t mean shit. He’s taken everything with the justification that if you can manage to take it then you deserve it and he doesn’t abandon that philosophy here, he sticks to it, even though it ends up costing him everything. How is that not so admirable? Am I actually supposed to not love him or?

c. I LOVE the fact that he clearly could not believe less in the idea of trial by combat. This is a me thing but it honestly makes me so happy. He’s lying through his teeth here with zero remorse, he’s 100% happy to let his innocence be decided in a fight all because he clearly thinks there is no divine intervention here. In his head there’s no reason why fighting for a just cause should have any impact on who wins, and even though the text goes against him on that idea…it’s still great. Because it’s not that he doesn’t have a conscience, he SO does as I’ll talk about later, but it’s not tied at all to to spirituality or the idea that he’s going to be cosmically punished for his actions. It’s all him, and I think that makes it so much more powerful.

2. “I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.” aka The Best Speech

*gasps of shock* Wow who would’ve guessed? But yeah. This is THE defining Edmund moment for me. (I put the other one first bc I’ve said all this stuff before so I don’t care if it gets hidden under a cut, but yeah, this is #1) Like I love it because it’s one of the few moments in Shakespeare that aligns with my irl beliefs without being cartoonishly evil, but also like, it’s more than that, this speech is just SO GOOD. It’s about the FREE WILL okay, it’s about the fact that he takes FULL responsibility for his actions, that’s my SHIT. But it’s also what makes him a villain because he has no delusions at all about what he’s doing, he knows it’s wrong and he still does it but like…I’m still so obsessed. And other things too, like the pointed, razor-sharp references to adultery are everything, I’d love to see this whole speech done as just a scathing and furious condemnation of Gloucester too…okay this is gonna turn into a whole essay if not careful but basically YEAH BEST SPEECH.

3. “Yet Edmund was belov’d.” AND “Some good I mean to do / Despite of mine own nature.” aka The Repentance

Anyone crying yet? I sure am. I had to include both of these quotes here bc “Yet Edmund was belov’d” is definitely another all-time fave but also it’s less of a moment and more just the one line and also I can’t justify not including the WHOLE CULMINATION OF HIS CHARACTER so yeah. Like okay though, sometimes I forget just how radical this moment is, but like!!! This is almost entirely unique in the canon. A villain who actually goes back and changes his mind and his heart and tries to make it right. But it’s not just that, it’s the way he does it, like I’ve been saying. It’s not because he thinks the gods are watching; it’s because he’s listening to Edgar talking about what he and Gloucester went through together and then he finds out that Goneril and Regan died for him and suddenly he remembers that there is love in the world and he was loved despite everything and just because it’s too late for him doesn’t mean it has to be too late for everyone and AHHHHHH. And he’s still pushing back against the limits set for himself while he’s doing it, he starts off the play rejecting the idea that the stars have any influence on his nature, but here he’s even rejecting that, defying the fact that he has to be one thing, he’s still fucking up his idea of the status quo even as he does this one last beautiful good thing. Just…holy shit.

4. “Yours in the ranks of death.” aka I Had To Pick At Least One Sexy One Cause I’m Too Sad

So this wouldn’t be an Edmund post if I didn’t talk about how hot he is. So yeah. This scene. Honestly this is maybe more of an iconic Goneril moment than an Edmund moment because she’s doing almost all the heavy-lifting dialogue-wise but still. I talked about this way more in that one post about how Edmund is lowkey a sub but the power dynamics in this scene okay, the tension. I’ve seen this scene done anywhere from a decently quick kiss to a full-on sex scene – the potential to get really intense is there. And I just love Edmund for it, he’s really out here, sleeping with a princess, making out with her on her husband’s doorstep – ICONIC. The BDE is just through the roof. Also for that line specifically I love how it comes back in 5.3 with “I was contracted to them both: all three / Now marry in an instant” akdlhglkhglaksdg. This is the peak Sexy Bastard moment.

5. “Now gods, stand up for bastards!” aka The Invention of Bastard Energy

Idk how Edmund’s most famous soliloquy is just making the bottom of this list, but I think I spend so much time defining my entire life around his second one and giggling at “Both????” in his third that I sometimes neglect this one a little. But it is That Good – it’s up there with the most iconic character intros in the canon. It’s everything. It’s so GREAT and VILLAINOUS like you get “Well then, legitimate Edgar, I must have your land” and all the set-up for him in all his smug evil glory and it’s HEARTBREAKING with the repetition of “Why brand they us / With base? With baseness? Bastardy? Base? Base?” like you can just hear how often those words have been thrown at him, how much they hurt and it’s SUBVERSIVE like we get Edmund’s whole philosophy here and we see he could give two shits about birth and status and he’s ready to turn the world on its head. My only complaint with this moment (or with any of these moments) is if Shakespeare really wanted me to dislike Edmund then he frankly did a terrible job.

#mine #asks #edmund #king lear

39 notes · View notes

phoenotopia · 5 years

Text

2019 August Update

"Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the clouds." That's a quote ... that I think succinctly captures what transpired these past 2 months. A lot of progress... but the game is still not done >_<

(extra note: actual quote is land among the "stars", but stars seems like a higher goal was achieved, so I modified the quote).

Anywho, here are some of the things we have accomplished in the past 2 months.

--- ALBUM ART ---

With the sound track essentially done, Will requested some album art. So Pirate and I compiled a bunch of album art that we liked from other games, and from that Pirate made a bunch of concepts - and then we narrowed it down from there, with the 3 of us interjecting our opinions throughout the process, and Pirate doing all the heavy lifting. The album art will be revealed later. For now, here's a teaser of our initial brainstorm process.

(round 1 : brainstorming and concepts)

(round 2 : Survivors from round 1 progress a little more)

--- NEW BOSS ENCOUNTER ---

I thought the scope of what needed to be done for the game was settled, but while writing out the new ending sequence, one part started to drag. There was too much exposition, so after brainstorming a bunch of ways for how this new ending sequence could flow better, it became clear... There needs to be another boss encounter! This boss would really help the pacing of the scene, and it made nice thematic sense and tied up the game's whole story arc in a more satisfying manner. To avoid spoilers, I won't talk it too much, but here's a little silhouette teaser.

(hint: it's not a bat)

--- WRITING ---

Writing doesn't happen linearly since I'll skip around fairly often. It's a delicate balancing act - if I force myself to stick in one area before I move on, progress will grind to a halt, snagged on those last few unscripted lines due to writer's block. But if I skip around too much, the context switch takes some time in itself, and the game can't be enjoyed by playtesters. So for that reason, the beginning and ending sequences are now finished (excluding the credits roll...). But there's still a lot of middle parts to fill in and plenty of side quests still.

For example, there are ~90 NPCs in just Atai town. And each one will talk about 4 text boxes of dialogue (some more, some less). A bunch of NPC dialogue will also change when a big event occurs in the story. So there needs to be a healthy mix of NPCs that push the important story bits, NPCs that push side quest hints, NPCs that talk about geography or history, NPCs that are just for fun, etc. So there's a lot of variables to keep track of.

I've started thinking of better ways to manage it all. One of my new workflows is to use a spreadsheet.

Topics to cover exist in a column on the left. Lines to be spoken by NPCs are stacked to the right. A cursory glance at the spreadsheet lets me see which conversational topics could use more coverage, and so on.

I even took on new writing help in a young Mr. Cody. Taking on a new writer has been a process because it is not as simple as tossing them some NPCs and letting them run loose. There has to be a ramp-up period for the writer to become familiar with the lore and writing style. There are also unspoken rules about Phoenotopia's universe I implicitly understood and never had to think about. But now that I'm cooperating with someone, I've had to think about verbalizing what those rules are. It takes up more time, but in a weird way, having an outside perspective also helps me understand Phoenotopia more. I also find that I can push through my writer's block more easily when coming from a corrective angle.

I've been quite the strict taskmaster to the new writer, but he's been very resilient and teachable. He's also a great ideas guy. So look forward to Cody's contributions in the finished game!

--- PLAYTESTING ---

The long road of playtesting begins! As mentioned in my previous blog, my goal was to have my brother playtest the finished game during our trip. He didn't get to playtest the *finished* game, but he did get to playtest through a good 40% of it. The game is pretty complete in a linear fashion up until the 40% mark - after that, the rest of the game world exists but the NPCs have placeholder dialogue, and the cutscenes to connect the story events together are still unscripted.

But that wasn't too big a limitation because my brother only reached the 40% mark during the tailend of our trip. My brother preferred to play in 1-2 hour chunks throughout the trip (no marathon session on the plane as originally planned). I think it took him about ~15 hours to get through the game's first 2 chapters and a little extra - unfortunately, the game's timer bugged out so I don't have an exact figure.

Tons of useful information came out from his play test. I wrote down *127* things to fix based on his playthrough - some were small things, like adding more signposting. Others were big issues - a boss stage needed to be redesigned, a needed change to the control scheme, item dupe bugs, etc. I'll speak on some of the ones I've fixed so far here:

A. Warehouse Visibility Low

For some reason, when starting out my brother completely missed the warehouse where you'd find the starter weapon. He ran past it a few times. Upon inquiring him about it, he said he didn't think it was interactive. Sure enough, all the doors on the left start open, so I see how the misconception could form. When players experience a game for the first time, they're developing a mental image of the game's rules - what's interactive and what isn't. And this early on, the language for doors is still unclear. Per his suggestions, I made this door start open, and moved the camera's edge left a bit to make it less likely to be missed.

B. Eating instructions unclear

Another thing that didn't go as planned was the food eating tutorial. Early in the game, an NPC gifts the player a potato and asks the player to eat it there. After doing so, the NPC gives the player additional tips regarding food. But my brother actually just ran away with the potato so the rest of the tutorial didn't occur. But now with an additional subtle dialogue box, the player is more likely to behave as desired.

(If you design it right, the player won't know you're holding their hand at all)

C. Gear Ring Too Sensitive

youtube

One of the game's new features is what I now call the "Gear Ring". The player can equip 8 items to it and quick-access items/tools with a flick of the right control stick. My brother HATED this feature since it was too easy to flick it accidentally when reaching for the regular face buttons. I've now guarded the quick-equip behind an addition RIGHT-CLICK press. Add in a few more FX, and it now works and feels better!

D. Wrecker Too Hard

(In the old boss arena - the 3D printer on the ceiling just made the fight more confusing)

The game's difficulty to players is a big blind spot for me. My brother's no slouch when it comes to gaming. He's beaten all the Dark Souls games and he loves a challenge! So to see him get pulverized in 10 seconds (literally) was a clear sign that the boss was too hard. The boss is able to easily corner the player and there’s no clear opportunity to escape. So I've decided to rearrange the arena - get rid of the 3D printer above and add 2 platforms to the battlefield's edges. This makes the fight more manageable (for the first encounter).

E. Aerial Attacks Too Hard

(Each hit fills the meter at the bottom. Hit the speed bag 10 times in quick succession to win a prize!)

I love the current aerial attack system but there's a steep learning curve to it. Gail takes time to wind up her aerial swing so the player has to time it so that Gail's jump trajectory and swing coincide with the target. Swinging the bat too close to the ground will result in Gail not only failing to attack, she'll be punished with a short "landing lag" recovery state. So aerial attacks are hard it seems. Instead of revamping the system, which I'm still fond of, I've introduced an aerial training course disguised as a mini-game.

So that's a small snippet of some issues I'll sort through with playtesting. Once the game is further scripted, my plan is to do another round of playtesting, followed by fixing. Then rinse and repeat until the whole game is all polished. It seems there's still a long road ahead... So I apologize if I've gotten your hopes up!

--- FANART ---

Three new fan arts popped up in the last 2 months.

The first one is thanks to Cody. G, who's made many fanart submissions before. He continues to improve - really interesting choice of angle and great water effects!

The next two are thanks to Shafiyahh on reddit. Both depictions are of Gale in 2 different art styles and angles. I really like the sparkling effects! Gale also has 2 different eye colors. Which do you think is more fitting?

That's all for now. We'll continue working diligently, and be back with another update come end of September.

51 notes · View notes

ellynneversweet · 4 years

Text

Ok, so I’ve finished Normal People and I have ... thoughts. Mostly about whether it succeeds or fails as a text, and what the relative metrics are by which success should be judged (it’s succeeded in getting me to think about it, for sure). This got long and a bit ranty, and does discuss the mental illness aspects of the book, so I’ve put it below the cut. Spoilers etc.

I haven’t watched the show or read any of Sally Rooney’s other books (book?) or reviews yet, because I wanted to get down what I took away from the book by itself, rather than what other people thought about it. I did see the headline of like, one review that seemed to think it was all about capitalism, which struck me as a significant stretch as a primary theme, but hey. My take was that it was primarily concerned with (many and various) degrees of mental illness and unwellness experienced by various characters, the causes and effects thereof, etc etc, and it’s really because of that that I don’t know whether or not I actually liked the book.

Ultimately I think my ambivalence comes comes down to how the narration is structured, and the way Rooney doesn’t at any point step in explicitly prompt the audience in one direction or another.

So what took me a hot minute to realise was that the book’s written in a very close third person narration, alternating between Connell and Marianne’s perspectives.The thing is, however, that this close third person isn’t immediately obvious, because Rooney subverts the whole ‘show don’t tell’ advice. There’s a lot of phrasing given as ‘she felt good’ ‘he felt anxious’ ‘then they had sex’ etc. The most personal aspects of the plot are constantly elided with this flat, clinical, definitive language that sounds almost like a witness statement in a criminal case. That’s especially the case with Marianne, who disassociates a lot, and slightly less so with Connell, who’s anxious, but the flat description is pretty present throughout. There are moments when the narrative dips into describing sensation, but that seems to occur only with regards to things that are irrelevant and impersonal, like drinking a glass of (insert carbonated beverage here), or feeling the breeze from an air conditioner. The book is all about this very intimate, arguably co-dependant and unhealthy relationship between these two intermittently sexually involved characters, so the aforementioned flatness struck me as an odd choice initially.

However. There’s two things that this does. The first, and IMO more significant, is that is creates an illusion of the narrative voice as omniscient and impartial, rather than biased and unreliable as it actually is. The seeming authority of the definitive statements in the narrative is emphasised by the stock filler phrases that the each of the dual protagonists uses in direct dialogue, and which inevitably mean the opposite of what’s actually said — in the case of Marianne we get ‘okay’ (I disagree but I want this conversation to end) and ‘I don’t know’ (i believe this to be profoundly true but it makes me unhappy), and in the case of Connell we get ‘obviously’ (I’m not sure at all, what do you think?). So the upshot of this is that especially in the earlier parts of the novel the audience is led into thinking the description of a particular plot point is what objectively happened, rather than the biased viewpoint of one of two people who keep talking past each other (I’m thinking particularly of the part in which Connell moves home because he can’t make rent, and each of them was waiting for the other to propose his moving into her flat instead).

So it is really interesting on that level of language structure. I do feel that the section headings (‘two weeks later,’ ‘six months later,’ ‘five minutes later’) were a bit of a red herring — especially towards the climax of the book, when things became violent, I was frankly expecting it to take a schlocky turn towards one or both of the main characters being maimed or killed in a domestic violence and/or drunk driving accident, à la Jodi Piccoult.

It didn’t, which was a relief, but I didn’t subsequently find the ending satisfying, and I think that’s because the way that it ended — a breakup that’s not really a breakup, just a breather — felt like something that had occurred at least three or four times already in the text. It’s always tricky to write a satisfying ending when all the main characters are alive and young and (presumably) going to continue their lives. Why stop the narrative here, rather than there? I think for that sort of ending to work, a story does need to feel like it’s shifting into a different stage of the characters’ lives, one that can be inferred, however dimly, but is distinct enough from the part described in the text to form a natural break. This didn’t feel like a break from what had gone before. It felt like a groove in an emotional cycle that had already been repeated, that had been shown as being repeated, that gave every sign of being repeated again and again, forever and ever amen.

This leads into the part where I talk about what I didn’t like, fyi, and fair warning, mostly what I didn’t like was the characterisation of Marianne. Sorry if she’s your fave.

So Marianne gets the last word of the narrative, in which she thinks about how ‘they’ve [Marianne and Connell] been so good for each other’. And i would argue two things, which is that 1) unreliable narrator or not, this being the last part of the text gives weight to this being read as a true statement 2) this is, uh, pretty clearly not the case. Marianne’s still fundamentally the same, teetering on the edge of self-destruction, and Connell is still anxious (and being made more so by Marianne’s reaction to his small successes).

Now, neither character is perfect. They’re also not bad people -- but they are struggling people who use maladaptive coping strategies and don’t ever really appear to move past those.

At first glance, on a scale of quantifying unhappiness, Marianne gets the raw end of the stick. She’s a character who’s sympathetic and pitiable, because she starts out as the smart, bullied kid who turns out to have an abusive home life and who is brutally dumped by her first boyfriend. So far, so sad. Connell, by contrast, is much less upfront about the things that cause him trouble (although they’re very much there) and has the initial upper hand. Connell also comes off as much more self-aware than Marianne — the part where he’s lying on the floor in a post-shower depression slump reminds me of that piece that goes around tumblr occasionally, about lying on the floor sobbing about the state of the world, and simultaneously noticing that the last time you painted, you didn’t do a good job with the brushwork in the corner you’re looking at, and thinking about how you should re-do it once you finish crying.

But the thing I can’t get my head around with Marianne is how Rooney feels about her, and it boils down to this: what level of awareness and intentionality is Rooney operating at when writing about Marianne’s mental health arc? Does Rooney agree with Marianne’s self-assessment of herself as ‘better’ and ‘normal’ (ie still acting in more or less the same way as she did throughout the text, but no longer a subject of gossip) at the end of the book, or does she not?

As I mentioned, I haven’t seen the adaptation, but I’ve seen a gif or two, and what struck me as I was reading was that the way that Marianne is described as looking (and styled in the show) is reminiscent of the pop-culture caricature of Sylvia Plath — increasingly thin, indie-fashionista, bangs, statement lipstick, weird but precociously brilliant, magnetic, male muse and male victim, mentally ill in a way that is complex but always sexy and sexualised (of course she developed a cute, posh eating disorder that involved eating half an expensive sugary pastry and a sugarless black coffee every day. Of course she did).

Basically, what I want to know is, is Marianne someone Rooney wrote based on that image of Plath, or is Marianne someone cosplaying as that image of Plath, whom Rooney is consciously deconstructing?

See, I think writing Marianne as someone (possibly unintentionally) cosplaying Plath is interesting. The myth of the hot, damaged girl is pretty pervasive (Harley Quinn, the suicide girls, etc etc) and writing Marianne as a character who has legitimate issues that she has trouble facing, who then instead focuses her self-awareness into this trope of ‘acceptably damaged’ has potential. I feel like there’s an opportunity there to examine the line between struggling with a mental illness vs self-consciously performing that struggle in a way that’s socially acceptable, which is a topic that suits the period when the novel’s set.

Unfortunately though, I think Rooney is probably buying into that myth rather than examining it, because the fact that no-one, in a book that starts in 2011 ever sits Marianne down and goes, ‘yes, I get that people have told you you’re mentally unwell as a tactic to bully you, and that was shitty, but you pretty clearly have a raging case of ptsd which is NOT YOUR FAULT, please accept some help’ — that is frankly hard to believe. Not Connell who seeks out therapy and takes some dubiously successful medication? Not Joanna, who is by all accounts well adjusted and who makes a point of caring in a friendship where she’s doing a lot the heavy lifting? Not Lorraine, parent of the decade? Not some random teacher or professor, looking out for an obviously promising student? Really, no one?

Marianne is supposedly brilliant and a tireless researcher, but she apparently never becomes aware of the possibility that there might be ways to process her past experiences in a way that would allow her some measure of peace. Never wants it, even in the worst of times. Never ceases to wallow in her own unhappiness. And it’s relevant, I think, that in the period of the novel where Marianne is (kind of) happy, when she’s making a success of things at uni, the focus of the book is on how she’s making Connell jealous by dating an abusive man. The closes she comes to self-awareness is recognising her proclivity to seek out unhealthy relationships and decide to lean into that, in what is consistently the least unhealthy romantic relationship she has. That feels like a cop-out.

Like, I’m not suggesting that every story that features mental illness as a theme needs to show recovery. That’s, unfortunately, not always the case. Some people never get better. Some people can’t bring themselves to believe in the possibility of getting better. It’s not even the case that recovery is a straight line, when it happens. I know that. I’ve seen people I care about it struggle with a whole range of problems, I’ve struggled myself. But this felt like 13 Reasons Why for adults, like depression-porn, and I just...am a bit angry, I think, that I can’t tell if that was the intention, it that wasn’t the intention but was the outcome, or if that’s just my take and I’ve misread the thing entirely.

Obviously people can write whatever they want in fiction, but I do think that when you’re dealing with a topic that has impacted a lot of people, that’s been poorly handed in fiction in the past, you do have a responsibility to treat it sensitive and thoughtfully, and not glamorise something that is ultimately destructive under the guise of ‘this is interesting and cool, and a good way to treat yourself and others, actually.’ And I don’t know if that’s the case here.

#textual analysis I guess #ranting about writing #normal people #i'm aware there are five thousand 'i' statements here #but I can't be bothered going back to remove them

2 notes · View notes

oopsabird · 6 years

Note

1; & 3, 5, 10 for take my heart &/so much like stars

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favourite and why?

Of all of my fics, that award I think would have to go to “I have loved the stars too fondly” (my Hamlet fic). Partly because I’m exceptionally pleased with how the prose and story/visuals execution turned out (in the most recent edited edition, which I think was last spruced up in 2016), and partly because since Hamlet is public domain, it technically sits on a sort of par with The Lion King in terms of canon-ness (or at least that’s what I say to boost my own ego lol). Of my WW fics (completed ones), I like “And In The Morning” best - it executes exactly the imagery and mood I intended it to, and I like it so much that I actually frequently forget that the hug it adds to the airfield aftermath scene isn’t actually canon, despite me carrying it over to all my other fics (it happened off-screen and I will take that headcanon to my grave). gambit, that wonderful whumpy collection of historical anachronisms, medical bullshitting, and tropes, is a very close second there, purely because I designed it to be a collection of things I enjoy in fic so of course I love it.

3. Which part of [title] was hardest to write?

take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat: Trying to convey exactly the physical positions and body language I was picturing in my head while maintaining prose and mood was probably the toughest. I tend to picture my fics like films in my head beforehand, complete with camera angles and cuts and mood lighting and a lot of minute physical/action detail, so trying to cram all that information into a sentence that still reads nicely and gets the intended feeling across is my most frequent struggle in writing. This was a fic that to me carried just as much of its mood and angst in things like the touch of a shoulder or the intonation of a word as it did in the prose, so it was tough, but I think I struck a pretty good balance.

so much like stars: I know the answer to this instantly, and you may know it too since I mention it in the end note of the fic: the undressing scene. Like, I basically worship Lindy Hemming for her costume design work in this movie and legitimately think she deserved to at least be nominated for an Oscar for it (product placement: the Wonder Woman Artbook is well worth its $50 price tag for the incredible insight into the crazy amount of craftmanship and work that went into making this movie. Must-have if you are fascinated by film-making and Wonder Woman. Hence why I have it.) All that being said, the (truly excellent) costumes for Sameer and Charlie have an INSANE amount of layers and pieces, and because I am a stickler for prop continuity I took it upon myself to keep track of each and every one. Except for a few I omitted because I knew nobody else is enough of a nerd about this movie to know the difference lol. It was a nightmare of my own making but in the end also a good writing exercise for managing prop pieces in a scene. But still. SO. MANY. JACKETS.

I really do go on in the rest of these answers, so please find them tucked under the cut!

5. Did you make an outline for [title], and if so did you stick to it?

I have what I would call a very ADHD writing technique, in which I will generally impulsively write the scenes I have visualized most clearly first, regardless of their place in the fic; then I spend possibly weeks jumping around and filling in the patches between scenes whenever inspiration strikes, generally working either from a vague “it will go like this overall” plan stored in my brain, or a placeholder in-text like “[they leave the bar and travel home. Charlie falls asleep in the cab]”. I almost always write my openings last, after having built the rest of the fic together bit-by-bit and now needing a way to segue the reader into it. That’s process is basically how I wrote both of these, except these were essentially written as a moment of hyperfocus rather than over a long period of time - each of them developed very quickly from initial idea to publication in a short period because I didn’t do literally anything else during that time (take my heart over a period of 12 hours, so much like stars over a period of three days). The only fic I have that really has a concretely written formal outline is The Big Fic (that mythological creature from my WIP list), and that’s because I’ve spent months actively workshopping the shit out of it and treating the damn thing like a novel (which is probably why finishing it escapes me).

10. What are some facts that readers may not know about [title]?

Ooooooo this is a delightful question, because as you can probably tell from my lengthy author’s notes on AO3, I looooove giving “director’s commentary” and spilling extra-textual info about my fics!

take my heart:

I don’t like that this is yet another WW fic I’ve done where Diana appears but doesn’t speak, but couldn’t (yet) find a way to give her even a passing line that didn’t feel shoehorned.

The choice to use present tense was made on a whim.

Though the fic doesn’t actually mention it explicitly (the one that I borrowed my own headcanon from does), the injury Charlie received to his shoulder and was put on leave for is that he “froze up” during their last mission and got shot (it was a graze), fell off his sniper perch and hit his head (a version of this incident is detailed in To Burn And Keep Quiet).

I worry that I write too many fics where Sameer is just a lens for processing Charlie’s trauma and emotional arcs in the text, and want to do more pieces that give Sami other plots and motivations and have him operating as a character more independently from his relationship to and feelings for Charlie.

Originally the idea was going to be Sami saying “I love you” knowing it will be forgotten in the morning, but then when I was writing it I was like “wait, I’ve thought of something worse! how delightful!”.

The “over breakfasts and newspapers” line is intended as a reference to Steve’s in-movie explanation to Diana of what people do when there are no wars to fight.

I decided to have it rain at one point because in the movie when Diana enters the pub with Steve the pavement is shown to be wet so I figure it must have been that kind of day, and also because it was raining all day while I wrote so I was really feeling it.

so much like stars:

I went to painstaking googling lengths to find a French-language song for the opening that was both period-accurate and suitable to the mood.

I actually omitted at least one costume piece: Sami wears these absurd-looking knit legwarmer-looking things over his boots and the bottom of his pants (these can be glimpsed in some scenes), and not only do they really look strange with just the suit (less so with all his coats and everything on), but I have no idea what they’re called and was sick of writing costume pieces, so I left them out knowing nobody else is enough of a nerd about it to notice.

I originally wanted to give this fic a fade-to-black/”soft focus” They Done Fucked romantic get-together conclusion (hence the setup with the windowless room, the creaky bed, the washbasin), but as the fic progressed I decided against it because it didn’t feel right for the tone/situation or the fact that that’s not my actual headcanon for how that night would’ve gone (and I was shooting for canon-compliant). An unfinished draft of that alternate ending does exist, but it’s not as of yet in any shape to be shown to anybody. Yet.

I worried while writing (still do, a bit) that this fic wouldn’t be liked/read by other fans because I know that the version of Charlie I have developed/analyzed out of my repeated close readings of the film and headcanons is a much more likable character than the impression of him you get after just one or two viewings of the film, so I worried that more casual/less obsessed fans reading this (and indeed, several of my other fics) wouldn’t be able to suspend their disbelief enough to accept me saying “yeah, Sameer is very in love with him. attacted to him, even.” without having been along for the ride on my entire crazy obsession with this movie and these characters. Luckily the way Sameer’s interactions with him in the film are acted and shot do the vast majority of the heavy lifting in-canon for this ship already, so readers are more likely to take “Sami is in love with Charlie, secretly” as read without me having to do too much extra stuff to back it up or make it plausible. “Charlie is in love with Sami” doesn’t require nearly as much work to “justify” because Sami is extremely handsome and charming and much of the fandom seems to adore him anyway, so its more like “yeah obviously, who WOULDN’T be in love with him in some way or another?”

I watched the entire “Night In Veld” set of scenes (through from Sami bringing Diana and Steve drinks to that wonderful Wondertrev fade-to-black scene) probably about 8+ times during the process of writing this fic, just to keep myself in the right frame of mind/mood; at this point I could recite it word-for-word.

Sami’s list of “Reasons Not To Tell Him” is pretty much my favourite part of the fic.

The “Sami wears undershirts with sleeves, Charlie wears sleeveless ones” distinction is my own little bit of costume design and also a headcanon that I carry through almost all of my fics.

I had a lot of trouble trying to balance my dedication to the principle “write non-English dialogue in the correct language” with “you can’t subtitle this, there is a LOT of French, and it needs to be comprehensible for an English audience”. What you see in the fic is my version of a happy medium, which I think works rather well.

Thank you for asking this!!!! And thank you to anybody who stuck it out to read this whole damn thing and indulge my infodumping!

#asks #long post #fanfic #charliexsameer #ww 2017

4 notes · View notes