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inhibitionfreewriting · 22 days ago

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Right Person, Wrong Time (pt4)

it has been a long time coming. but here we are. part 4 went through multiple rewrites so i hope you guys like it!!

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

🌠🌠

Your limbs ached, lungs burning from your first breath after waking up. Was this headache from the heavy sleep? It took your eyes much longer to adjust than you’d like, sunlight peeking through your curtains wherever it could. Vague, blurry images passed through your mind but when you tried to focus on any of them, your head throbbed.

Whatever had happened last night you were glad that you from yesterday had decided enough was enough and to get home… however that happened. Who did take you home? You know what sounded better than solving that mystery? Scrambled eggs and maybe some bacon.

Your stomach suddenly lurched, covering your mouth to prevent a trip to the bathroom to hurl your guts out, but the wave of nausea passed and you chose to think about anything other than food. Your legs tiredly carried you out of your bed and towards the bathroom, choosing to be responsible and brush your teeth and your hair… but the sweat from the night before and the drool that was dried to your chin made you make a small noise of disgust.

The hot water of the shower soothed the rising hangover from rearing its ugly head, knowing that afterwards you’d have to force yourself to eat to keep the hangover at bay. The scent of your shampoo and bodywash was a good way to start the rest of your day, telling yourself you would be taking it easy today. You deserved it, after all.

Loose clothes, unable to take the heat still radiating off your body from the shower, you headed down the hallway and turned into your kitchen and paused. You would, unfortunately, recognize that body shape anywhere. His shoulders were possibly tighter than you remembered, assuming it was coming from being in the same space as you. You almost felt that your eyes unfocused for a long silent moment before you managed to get out -

“Hey.”

You watched him jump a little and turn around, phone in his hand. The way his eyes traveled over your face was strange, really seeing you for the first time, but you caught his gaze and everything felt… sideways. His eyebrow quirked as he watched the way your head tilted, trying to understand why you were looking at him differently too.

You shut your eyes to shake your head, ridding yourself of the intrusive thoughts edging at the back of your mind.

“You picked me up last night,” a statement, not a question.

“Yeah, Will-” You put your hand up and he stopped.

“I’ll talk to Will,” an emotion passed through his face but you couldn’t pick it out, you tried to keep your voice steady, feeling vulnerable. You couldn’t remember much of last night. Just the taste of acid reflux tinged with alcohol and the vague feeling that you had seen your ex. Your other ex. You brought your hand to your forehead and rubbed at the bridge of your nose. “Did I say anything weird to you last night?”

What a loaded question. Weird was subjective so that gave him the opportunity to pick and choose if he told you anything at all, and you really weren’t quite sure you trusted him to tell you anything after letting you go through with an incredibly long relationship only to speak up at the wedding and destroy the whole thing.

“Not sure I should tell you if you’re going to keep looking at me like that.” His words stung, which was strange. Your eyes dropped away from his face and to the counter between you both.

The words were strained, but you still said them, “I’m sorry.” You had to be the adult, clearly, always with him having to be the adult, a dull anger that you had long tried to drown out with any vice that would help rising in your belly. There wasn’t any way around this without being open. You were both adults, you could be adult about this. A friend helped you home. That’s it.

You continued, “I just don’t… remember much of last night. I remember the bar, and I remember,” you almost spat it out, not even able to actually say his name, “him being there. And then you and a car ride home and I woke up in bed.”

“You uh,” Hasan sighed, bringing his hand to his chin and scratching, pausing for such a long time you could actually kill him.

“Look if it was that bad you don’t have to tell me and you can leave. Thank you for bringing me home but if I turned into a freak last night-”

“You told me to stay.”

“I. What?”

The knowledge could have knocked you off your feet, but you stayed standing despite the wave of nausea that washed over you, and you were suddenly very aware of your heart thrumming in your ears. You wanted to convince yourself that it was the hangover, but the realization was much stronger than the lingering effects of the night before.

Because you did, didn’t you? Ask him- no. Actively tried to get him to stay, tried to hold his hand so he wouldn’t leave you. Twice.

‘With me?’ Yes, but no.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and you rubbed at the space between your brows again, but he spoke before you could.

“If you’re worried, I slept on the couch.” You couldn’t tell if he was making a joke or not, but it made you breathe out a laugh. And then another one and another one.

“What-” still laughing, “what would I be worried about?” You could barely tell that his expression had changed from trying to be genuine to straight confusion as to why you were laughing at him. It didn’t take more than a second or two for a strangled laugh to leave him too and it must have taken everything in his body not to come meet you where you stood in the kitchen. Laughing with a world's amount of space between you.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” Hasan breathed out and through his shaky laughter tried to shrug his shoulders and add some kind of nonchalance to the conversation, push past the awkward air that clung to your bodies. “Is that not just - is that not what you’d say? To a woman?”

Your face twisted into incredulity, eyebrows pulled together but raised, laughter still playing at your lips which forced them to curl into a confused smile. “Yeah, definitely, just start telling random women, if you’re worried I slept on the couch, see how they reply.” “That’s, holy shit you’re impossible, that’s not what I meant,” Hasan pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumbs, pushing them gently into his brow. “You know exactly how I meant that.”

You did know, because even after all this time he was still the Hasan you had fallen in love with all those years ago. Even if realizing that made your chest hurt.

#hasan x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi x reader #hasan #bunny writes #tw angst #lmao i think #rpwt

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inhibitionfreewriting · 2 months ago

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for anyone new who hasn't read through this series yet I encourage it because I am actively working on part 4 for real this time :')

Right Person, Wrong Time (pt1)

(or Wrong Person, Wrong Time, from Hasan's perspective).

this is probably the most purposefully sad thing i've written and i really love it.

edit - 12/10: part 2 / part 3

🌠🌠

People are brought together for two reasons - weddings and funerals.

Hasan was grateful it was the former, though right about now he wished that it was a funeral. His funeral, or your betrothed's if he was really being honest with himself. Once upon a time that could have been him, standing at the end of the aisle and waiting for you to walk down. Your betrothed stands tall at the end of the aisle, hands clasped nervously in front of themselves, staring towards where you are supposed to make your entrance.

Hasan stands with the rest of the crowd and with his height towers over just enough to have a perfect view of you. He can feel his own heart tighten in his chest, beating erratically against his ribcage, drowning out the wedding march out of his ears.

You are ethereal. Dressed to the nines with your hair done to suit your face the best, cheeks with a noticeable twinge of heat to them, and nothing but love radiating from your eyes.

He is happy for you, he tells himself, working on memorizing the way the light hits your face as you walk.

He is not upset that you are reaching for someone else's hand and not his.

He does not seriously contemplate standing up to object to the wedding which is why he sounds surprised as his body moves on it's own to stand say the words "I object." And you are horrified.

"What?" you gasp. How could- no, how dare he show up only to ruin everything! To ruin everything again! Your eyes lock and you are transported back to a memory that you aren't sure Hasan even remembers. (He does.)

"I'd never let you marry some douchebag," he says, tilting his water bottle back for another swig while you're talking on his stream. Neither of you pay attention to chat while you are tapping back through the video.

"Good thing I'm not planning on getting married, marriage is a scam," you keep the video paused and sit back in your spot. "Because what do you really get out of marriage? You can just get your last name changed to someone else's if you want, it just costs money instead of being 'free'. Disability benefits if you're in America get yeeted into the trash can, not that I'm on disability but the point stands." Hasan nodded along listening to you speak.

"I feel like if you get married to someone and things change, it probably wasn't a good relationship in the first place."

"Yes!" You say clapping to accentuate the word, "yes if you need to get married to continue on the relationship? Don't do it. It's a mistake, get out."

"Would you marry me if I asked?" Hasan's voice was genuine and your eyes flicked to the audio levels to see that his voice indeed going through his stream still. It was hard not to stammer and take the question into serious consideration with your eyes focusing on the very quick stream of people screaming in chat. "You're gonna leave me on read in person?"

"No! No, I. Oh my god-"

"You wouldn't marry me? Wow chat, can you believe it? I give my girlfriend a loving spot next to me for a stream and she says no in front of 10 thousand people." The smile on his face was huge, clearly enjoying that you were covering your face in embarrassment.

You hear him say it out loud, "I would never let you marry some douchebag," loud enough that you can see your mother gasp and cover her mouth in response. You cannot move - can't imagine that this is actually happening. Your betrothed looks at you with aggravation and a hint of suspicion. Before you can speak and defend yourself, they cut you off.

"What is he doing? I told you not to invite him, I knew this would happen," your betrothed is much louder than you assume they intended. Their hands come up and they wave them in front of themselves taking a step back and away from you. "For someone who has 'no feelings' for you, he sure is ruining our life right now." You tear your eyes away from them and towards Hasan, who only speaks when you're looking at him.

"You can't marry him," he moves towards the aisle and your to be marches down to meet him but Hasan has strength on him. "You've been uncertain for months, you can't do this to yourself."

"I-I," your voice comes out as a whisper with tears running down your cheeks, the officiant putting a hand gently on your shoulder. Both sides of the families start to try to break up the stalemate that stands with the distance that feels like forever between you and he. You're frantically looking at the people who don't know who to turn to and your father comes to your rescue, stepping up to the two of them, while you pick up your dress with the help of your maid of honor and walk past everything. You can't do this. Not now.

"Not now", you remember saying, standing in front of Hasan on your doorstep. You're still holding hands even if you've just broken up, staring down through tears at the connection of your fingers. "I don't understand."

"I promise it's not you, it's me," he says, smoothing his thumbs over your knuckles. He hasn't looked you in the eyes once since the conversation started, couldn't stand the idea of seeing you cry. "There's just a lot going on right now and trying to commit to someone isn't fair."

"When have-" a deep, shuddering breath, "when have I ever pressured you for more time together? Was I not asking for enough time? Did I... when did being committed to me become such a chore?" You took your hands from him and wiped away at your eyes. The places he touched stung like bees and you took a step back towards your door. "Go - just go, I don't want to be around you right now."

Before he could say anything, you disappeared beyond the barrier of your home, a place he was no longer welcome and wouldn't step inside of for 2 years.

The next few hours were a whirlwind of people getting kicked out of the wedding, your maid of honor trying to salvage whatever she could while you sobbed in the room where a few hours prior you had your makeup done. Two little words, two, and the last three years of your life could collapse like a poorly constructed bridge. You could hear your betrothed yelling and being escorted out by (you assumed) one of your larger cousins and your father.

"Hey honey," your mothers voice carried across the room quietly as she entered, closing the door behind her. She crossed the distance and wrapped you up in her arms as you started to sob again, unable to hear what she was saying as she consoled you from how loud everything else was.

More time passed and eventually you had amassed the important people in your life in the room with you. Your parents, your maid of honor, and a few of of your friends. Your betrotheds family left along with him sans a handful who felt like he was the one being a jackass. Nobody would quite call you calmed down, but you were able to speak through it now, apologizing that this had all been a waste of time. That inviting your ex to your wedding was a bad idea, but you really did feel blindsided by his outburst.

The exhaustion in your bones by the end of the day would have been enough to paralyze a horse. An uncomfortable silence, only disturbed by the phone buzzing occasionally on the bed next to you. You couldn't bring yourself to silence it entirely, convinced that it was keeping you tethered to reality.

11:19 PM

Love of my Life - 17 Missed Calls

Love of my Life - 24 unread messages

Hasanabi - 2 Missed Calls

Hasanabi - 1 unread message

... bzzzt ...

Hasanabi - 2 unread messages

Love of my Life - 18 missed calls

Another time, another day, another life. You'd give up anything to do over today, without the interruption, without letting the next few years of life plans collapse on the whim of someone who dumped you in the first place. Someone who had now broken your heart not once but twice. Twice!

A pathetic choked laugh left your throat before you rolled over, away from sight of the phone and waited for sleep to grace you with it's presence. If anyone asked you to estimate how quickly you fell asleep, you would tell them you didn't. You don't remember ever closing your eyes long enough for time to pass. Restless. Brokenhearted.

A few weeks down the road and you were at what was was supposed to be day one of your honeymoon. Instead of boarding a plane, you were making a call to Will Neff to ask him to tell Hasan to stop contacting you. He even tries to apologize for him.

"I know he fucked up but I really don't think that he..." he trailed off and you didn't have the energy to cut him off. He wants to tell you that Hasan was just doing what he thought was best, he really didn't want you to marry someone who he thought was not good enough for you. "I really don't think that he even meant to do that. I know he's talked about it before but, you always kind of think and hope that it's a joke." He tries for a laugh but it falls flat out of his mouth before he sighs. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay Will."

"You can always call me if you need me."

"I know."

"I know he loves you!" Will yelled, gesturing towards the sky. You didn't know it at the time, but Will knew that Hasan had bought you a ring two weeks before breaking up with you. "He loves you because he never shuts up about you, he didn't tell me that he was thinking about any of this at all. It doesn't make any sense." It made you feel better to know that Will was on your side, but if he wasn't talking to him about it, was he talking to anyone?

"I hate him," you say before downing the liquor in your glass and sinking further into your seat. "I never wanna see him again, okay? Gonna delete his number from my phone. Teach him to... teach him to drop the best thing that ever happened to him!"

"Yeah!" Will yelled and slapped his hand against the couch. As supportive as ever, even if his best friend was an absolute dickhead.

"I know he loves you still," Will said after a long slow minute of silence. "I think after all this time he does, in his fucked up Hasan way. I'm not saying you give him another chance-"

"Oh thank you for clarifying, I was almost certain you were going to tell me to get with the man who destroyed the marriage that didn't even have a chance to start."

"I'm JUST saying... feelings make people fuuuuucking dumb." That got the softest chuckle out of you and you weren't sure if Will heard you, but he continued. "It's not an excuse, but at least it can be closure for you. Maybe. Just know he's as stupid as he's always been."

#bunny reblog

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