#I know a few sallies. I’m even friends with a couple. n I have no idea how to feel abt that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

Text

a new chapter

summary: a new year has arrived in Hawkins, Indiana. I shall show you different months and interactions that our Byers sibling will be having. we will watch as she goes through the ups and downs of dealing with this new trauma. will she eventually come to terms and slowly start to recover and process everything?

WC: 4.1K

warnings: depression, ED mention

A/N: ALL THE STORIES CAN BE FOUND UNDER THE TAG- The Byers Harrington Story-

this is where i’m gonna be a bit worried about my writing because it’s fully just my imagination working at whatever speed it can. i’m not sure how many of these in betweens i’m gonna do, i want to try and do a couple for each month. i already have the last in between planned and after that one it will lead into season2. i hope everyone enjoys these little stories.

previous chapter next chapter

January 5, 1984

“Mom, do you think you can get me a job here?” you asked while picking a lollipop from the display rack.

Joyce was organizing items behind the counter, and you were sitting on the checkout counter at Mendel’s. You were a bit bored at home so you felt like following Joyce for the next few hours of work.

It’s only been about three months since you quit, sorry, since you were fired from Lenny’s pizza. It was nice to have a break from working, focus on school, and you can freely be depressed in your room. Your sleeping was still not great, even with the weed you would buy from Eddie, but it didn’t help all the time. You were also on a tolerance break right now so you didn’t get too used to the drug and its effects. Plus, you didn’t want Joyce to find out, she was starting to get suspicious of your behavior, “Honey, did you get sprayed by a skunk?”

Anyway, you’ve enjoyed not working and all that, but you need to sum up all the money you can get your grubby hands on. You aren’t a big spender anyway, but still, you want to save up money for the future. Five months of paychecks, two a month, $3.75 an hour, it’s not a lot in the long run. You would look in the paper and check if anyone was hiring, see if something caught your eye. You may be a little desperate for a job, but you still have standards. You didn’t want to work in food again, you’re kinda worried about Carol or Tommy H showing up wherever you're working and making a scene. You thought retail would be the next best thing, always good to have different job variations.

“I don’t know honey, business isn’t exactly busy,” Joyce huffed from the ground where she was sitting.

“I know, but I’m just asking for a part-time job. Maybe I’ll get a second job when summer comes around,” you looked around the empty general store while the two of you were having this conversation.

Joyce stood from her seat behind the counter and looked over your hunched figure on the counter. You were sucking on the lollipop and just staring out the glass windows and looking out to the empty main street. You looked to the different stores that might be hiring. Sally’s Sugars and Sweets Bakery, Johnson’s Formal Attire, Hawkin’s Post, etc.

None of them caught your interest as you scanned the store signs. You sighed, maybe you could see if the library needs attendants, maybe City Hall could use interns or something. Maybe you could be a newspaper girl, Jonathan does that on the weekends.

“Honey, why don’t you just use this time to focus on yourself? You look like you could use it.”

“What does that mean?” you replied a bit timidly.

“Well I- I’m just saying you should spend time with your friends. You know, Steve sometimes calls for you.”

That got your head perked up. You already knew this information, but something in Joyce’s voice got your interest. The way she said Steve’s name and how he calls for you, no one else, just you in the Byers’ household, she was playing coy. Also, you could tell she was warming up to Steve and his new presence around the house and with you, Will also didn’t seem to mind, Jonathan though… “I know, it’s just sometimes I end up third wheeling him and Nancy, also Jonathan doesn’t like Steve, so I try to keep them separated from each other.”

“I know honey. What about that girl from school? Jonathan tells me that you’re together during lunch and after school sometimes.”

Robin. The two of you have been getting a little closer after your first study session. At first, you still tried to keep your distance a little, worried if you get attached to her, she’ll be dragged into this terrible predicament. But then her bright smiles and chipper attitude started to crack at the brick wall you placed around your heart, and each day the two of you hung out, a new crack would form in the wall. Eventually, you just gave up the cold facade and welcomed her in openly, but still trying to refrain from mentioning anything to do with the Upside Down and all that stuff.

“I’m- I’m just nervous. What if she’s just a school friend?” “School friend? What?” “You know, someone you hang out with only at school. It’s a line you don’t want to cross ‘cause some people are completely different outside of school, like a whole new personality.”

Joyce was looking at you like you were a bit crazy with this whole “school friends” explanation.

Her brows were furrowed with the crease in the middle, her head cocked to the side and her lips were puckered. She was leaning a hip against the counter while her hands rested in the pockets of her work shirt.

Her hair was longer now, her bangs more grown out and the ends of her hair now touched her shoulders. She looked healthier, a bit happier after just these past few months. That twinkle in her eyes was back, it may still be a bit dulled, but it was shining again. That’s all that mattered.

You on the other hand. Your hair was disheveled most days or just thrown into a pony or low bun to tame the rat's nest. Your clothes were rumpled and mismatched, but not in your usual way, more in a ‘throwing on the first piece of clothing that you grabbed off the floor because you couldn’t bother putting in effort’ way. Your skin was growing ghostly white from not going outside unless needed, like school, or walking into the woods so you could smoke freely. The bags under your eyes were growing and the dark circles were starting to look like someone punched your eyes in a fight. You’ve probably lost some weight, your appetite comes and goes, sometimes you could eat three meals a day, or sometimes you would just eat breakfast and just chug water the rest of the day.

Joyce removed a hand from a pocket and gently tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. Anytime she did the action you felt like a child like you were pulled back in time. It felt like she was protecting you from the outside world, wanting to keep you safe and wrapped tightly in bubble wrap. Like she wasn’t witnessing her daughter slowly destroy her body and mind because of something horrific that no one should ever experience. Like you weren’t staring into the eyes of the woman who birthed and raised you with such hollow emotions tucked behind your corneas.

No, the simple motion of the hair being tucked behind your ear brought dreams and childhood innocents.

“Honey, I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I don’t want to push you to do something that you don’t feel comfortable with, but I just want to see you happy. That’s all a mother could ask of her children after all.”

You felt yourself getting choked up, “I know mom,” you whispered.

The both of you are just gazing at each other with tears growing, but not yet falling over. It felt like a switch of who was taking care of who, when Will was missing it was you and Jonathan worried over Joyce and watching as she was slipping. But now you were slowly losing a hold on yourself and Joyce was trying to show that she was here for you. You know Jonathan and Will would also be there for you, but you tried to keep this side of yourself hidden from them, you don’t want them to worry about you.

“You know, you’re the best mom anyone could ask for,” you sniffled.

Joyce gave a slight chuckle at that, “coming from you, that’s the best compliment I could ever hear.”

The both of you just shared in choked giggles until the bell from above the door signaled a customer. You hopped off the counter and stared over the top of the small aisles to try and see who entered the store. With a quick look outside the windows, you were able to see the beige Hawkins Police truck before you saw the mystery person.

“Hi Hopper,” Joyce exclaimed.

You turned in the direction that Joyce was looking and saw as Hopper walked closer to the counter the both of you have been at for the past hour and a half. He held his hat in his hands and gave both of you a welcoming smile, “Hello Byers.”

“Everything good at the station Hopper?” you asked, making polite conversation.

“You know Hawkins, pretty quiet.”

“Right.”

You all knew that wasn’t true, but at least you weren’t the only one choosing to be a little delusional about everything.

Hopper hit your arm with his hat in a playful gesture and grinned at you, “actually I have something that you might like back.”

Your eyes widened and you stood a bit taller. You completely forgot about the rifle. Nancy took Lonnie’s revolver for herself and you had other stuff clouding your mind that you just forgot the rifle you took from the shed. Not like you planned on going hunting or whatever, but at least with the rifle back home you knew there was some protection for the four of you.

“I checked your house to see if anyone was home to take it, but all of you are out.”

“Well, I was planning to head home soon, if you give me a ride I’ll take it.”

Hopper looked from you to Joyce behind you and gave her a ‘is that okay?’ look. You turned to see what her response would be, well you already knew, “yeah, that’s fine. I don’t want her riding out too late anyway.”

Hopper nodded his head. You looked between the two adults and noticed the looks they shared, mostly Hopper’s gaze. It peeked a bit of curiosity inside of you, but you weren’t one to meddle in other people’s business.

“How’s Will doing?” Hopper spoke after a cough.

“Um, he’s- he’s okay. He seems like he’s getting back to his normal self,” Joyce supplied.

You wanted to interject and say something, like how sometimes you could hear Will’s cries through the walls late at night when you couldn’t sleep and no one else should be awake. Or how sometimes the two of you run into each other in the kitchen and the both of you would just eat cereal at the table together. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you would go outside in the backyard and lay down on the grass and just stare at the stars, and sometimes Will would end up joining you. You two had each other in the dead of night when everyone else had peaceful dreams, the two of you had nightmares that sunk into your skin making it hard to fall back asleep.

“(Y/n), honey, are you ready to leave?”

You blinked a few times and realized you zoned off for a moment as Joyce and Hopper continued their conversation. You turned to Joyce and her expression was blinking like a sign showing that she was worried about you. You then make a glance at Hopper and he looked just as concerned.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll see you later mom.”

“See ya, honey.”

…

You and Hopper drove in silence for a while. Neither of you not knowing what type of topic of conversation the other would be interested in. The radio was playing some AC/DC song, something as background noise. Hopper had the windows done just a crack allowing for the cool late winter air into the truck, it felt refreshing.

You noticed the way that Hopper was tapping his fingers against the wheel, either in rhythm with the song or just a mindless motion, you didn’t know. He was rubbing his free hand across his facial hair and then went back to rest it against the windowsill. While you sat in your seat you were twiddling with your fingers in your lap and looking out the window, watching as the trees and buildings whizzed past the moving vehicle.

“Hey, um…I know I probably sound like a broken record, but, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a bit out of it lately.”

You look away from the moving scenery and over to Hopper. He took a glance your way when you didn’t say anything right away and you noted the way his brows furrowed just a little in the middle and the concern pooling in his warm eyes. You were debating in your head if you should tell the truth. When people have been asking if you’re okay, you mostly just say “I’m fine” and they would just accept the answer. But you weren’t fine, and you did want to talk to someone about it, but you didn’t want to add any extra concern to anyone, and it’s not like you can go to a therapist.

You let out a sigh and looked to Hopper’s side profile, “if I tell you, can you not tell my mom?”

You noticed the way Hopper’s mouth opened a bit like he was gonna say something before the thoughts formed, “ah…Why- why would you not want me to tell your mom?”

“Well, she’s already worried about Will, and she does notice that I’m a little different now, but I don’t want her to know the extent of it.”

It was silent, you allowed Hopper to think about what you said. You want to talk about this stuff with someone you trust, someone who won’t judge you. You know your family wouldn’t judge you for anything, you and Steve were still getting used to your new friendship, you and Nancy were friendly but…eh, and it’s not like you could dump this stuff on the kids. Hopper was the only adult other than Joyce that you trusted.

When the truck pulled up to the house and Hopper shut the engine off, you turned to him. He was rubbing his facial hair again and then turned his attention to your waiting gaze.

“Let’s talk in the house.”

You felt a tiny smile on your lips.

The both of you slammed the doors close and Hopper grabbed the rifle from his trunk. With your keys, you unlocked the door and walked to the kitchen. You started to pull out stuff to make a sandwich and grabbed a coke from the fridge.

“You want anything to eat, I could make a sandwich or something?”

You called out to Hopper who was still in the living room. You didn’t hear a verbal response so you looked up and saw as he walked into the kitchen and just sat at the little table.

“I’m fine, (Y/n).”

You just nodded and when you finished making your sandwich you put everything back and sat in the seat across from Hopper. The air was slowly building in tension, the tension mostly coming from you because you were suddenly deciding if this was a bad idea.

Hopper speaking broke through your loud decision-making thoughts, “what’s going on (Y/n)?”

You kept your head down and just stared at the sandwich you made and tapped your nails on the plate or the table. Running your teeth along your bottom lip you looked at Hopper, he was leaning forward and had his arms on the table with his hands clasped together. His hat was also off, it allowed for you to stare freely at his face.

“Well, I-I…you know how me, Jonathan, and Nancy along with Steve went up against the Demogorgon?”

“I do, also I remember telling you and Jonathan not to do that.”

You just gave a cheeky smile at the comment, “well you can thank Nancy for bringing the idea back.”

“Anyway, so I’ve been having these nightmares, and this was before the attack. I had one the night we went looking for the monster the first time.”

“The first time?” Hopper questioned.

“Yeah, we went into the woods. I know it probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but we’re dumb kids.”

Hopper breathed a laugh at the statement. It made you smile for a moment.

“So these nightmares, how bad are they?” Hopper asked after a few seconds.

“Umm, on a scale of 1-10 I would say that they sit around 10 for 10.”

Hopper gave a solemn nodding at your answer.

You continued to just stare at the sandwich, you don’t even know why you made it, you had no appetite while talking about this. You just huffed a sigh out through your nose.

“Do…Do you want to talk about what happens? In your dre-nightmares.”

You were hesitant, but after a few seconds, you gave a timid nod to Hopper. He didn’t say anything or move closer to you, he let you take your time in formulating your thoughts and kept a good distance so you didn’t feel suffocated.

“It’s kinda always the same format, someone else and I are running away from the monster, and then it would get to them first. It was like it was taunting me, enjoying that I was witnessing it rip this person to shreds and I would just freeze from fear and stare as the life drained from their eyes. And then when it was satisfied it would drop their body onto the floor and stalk towards me as I was shaking and coward against the wall or in a corner. It would lean in close with its flowered face and open allowing for me to stare at the rows of teeth within and then it would get me, but that’s when I wake up. And I’m a cold sweat and shaking when I wake up and I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed. I would be up until my body just collapses from exhaustion.”

The tension in the air you felt earlier dissipated and all you felt now was a form of exhaustion but it wasn’t in the air or from Hopper, it was you. Just talking about them made your body feel like it was running laps without stopping until your legs just gave out. You heard the creaking of the chair and looked at Hopper who now moved to the seat next to you instead of across from you.

“Do you take any sleeping pills to try and sleep?”

‘Weed’ you answered in your head, “yea, they worked for a little, but it still wouldn’t help,” you half lied out loud.

“If you could, well want really, could you tell me who is usually running with you?”

You hesitated a bit in this part. Yeah, it would be fine if you said Joyce or Jonathan, but mentioning Steve or Hopper, to Hopper, you weren’t sure if it would be weird for him. You don’t know how Hopper would feel if you just said ‘hey sometimes I dream that you get eaten by a monster and I can’t do anything but watch’ you don’t want to scare him off, but he asked and you need to talk.

“Sometimes it’s Jonathan, especially how I remember the scene that played out in the house. Where it pinned him down and stood over him, drooling like he was dinner. Other times it’s Joyce, but not often luckily. Um, for this next one could you not mention it to anyone, like at all?”

Hopper looked a bit worried and confused but nodded his head.

“Sometimes- Sometimes the person I’m with is Steve. And as we’re running he’s always protecting me and that’s how he got killed and I can’t even do anything.”

“Harrington? Why- Are you two close or something?”

“It's a- It's a new development you could say,” you muttered.

“Is there anyone else in these scenarios? You seem a bit hesitant.”

You turned your gaze on Hopper and tried to see if this silent answering of just your eyes could answer his question. It seemed he understood, but not exactly, so you cleared your throat and said, “actually the only other person in these scenarios is…its-its you, Hopper. I sometimes watch you get ripped apart before my eyes.”

Hopper looked taken aback by this information you laid out for him. You just told Chief Hopper, a man who you didn’t converse with before this crazy government stuff, that sometimes you watch him get killed. Maybe your subconscious was trying to say something, maybe you were starting to latch onto Hopper because he was the only older male figure in your life at the moment. A.K.A, daddy issues.

“Hey,” Hopper quietly said, he tapped your hand on the table to draw your attention.

You kept your head tilted low so you looked up a bit with your brows raising. You were gnawing on your bottom lip anxiously because you weren’t sure what he was going to say. You weren’t trying to overstep any boundaries, you didn’t want Hopper to stop checking in with your family because of your disturbing nightmares.

“These are just nightmares, dreams. They aren’t real.”

Real, it felt weird, but you had to mention this detail, “Hopper, I know this sounds crazy, but sometimes when I do have dreams they manifest in some way or another. When I first dreamt of being chased by the Demogorgon I pictured it with the flowering head and rows of teeth, I didn’t even know what it looked like, Nancy didn’t even describe it to me. And another dream, Steve was in it and he was giving me a gift, a piece of jewelry, and for Christmas, he said a similar line from the dream and gave me a ring. It’s not like I think I’m psychic or whatever, but with these dreams or nightmares, I get worried that they’ll come true somehow.”

Your body started to lightly tremble and your vision was blurring around the edges, the tears were coming. Distracted by your anxious state you didn’t pay attention to Hopper and his actions. All you felt was the slight shift in the air from his movement, heard the chair move and his feet taking steps. Then you felt his hands on your upper arms moving you into a standing position, and then he pulled you into a hug. It took you by surprise for a moment, but then your arms moved into action and you wrapped them around Hopper’s waist, and just lightly, barely anything, you clenched some of his uniform into your fingers and held on.

One hand moved to the back of your head to keep you pressed against his chest and the other was resting high on your back and was moving between your shoulder blades in a comforting motion. You felt the hard pressure of his chin soon resting on the crown of your head. The tears kept slipping from your closed eyes, but it wasn’t because of your nightmares. No, it was because, for the first time, you felt like you had a father. The only time Lonnie ever touched you was to give you an undeserving beating, whether it was because of a stupid accident or cause he was drunk, he never even gave you even one hug you could remember.

Hopper, a man who mostly kept to himself, a man who somehow became a welcoming presence in your life, and a man who could have just ignored your paranoid and tired behavior. Hopper was someone who was comforting you because he knew you trusted him and just needed someone to listen and just be there for you.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

He whispered these kind reassurances into your hair and with each one spoken, you lessened in your shaking and your tears were drying. Soon when all you had was tear streaks and a few hiccups escaping from your mouth you loosened in the holding of Hopper’s arms. He moved his hands back to your upper arms and leaned back to look you in the face.

“Thanks, Hopper, I really needed that.”

He gave you a reassuring smile and rubbed his thumbs over your clothed arms, “anytime kid.”

“I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

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

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessmxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx

#The Byers Harrington Story #stranger things reader insert #stranger things self inster #reader insert #strangers things byers!reader

214 notes · View notes

reikuto · 2 years

Text

⋆ฺ｡*:･CONTENT! bokuto koutarou x gender neutral reader. bokuto’s pov. angst. takes place four years after part 1. WARNINGS! cursing. A/N! this is heavily inspired by bad habit by steve lacy + when harry met sally lol. also this is part 2 of graduation aches, pt 1 is here and pt3 is here･: *｡ฺ⋆

CURSING UNDER HIS BREATH, bokuto koutarou looks down at his wrist for the time, 10:42pm. he pulls out his phone and types out another set of apologies to send to his friends. it’s been way too long since he’s gone out and he’d be a liar if he said he hasn’t been itching to wind down with a couple beers. however, he should’ve never assumed he’d wake up from his power nap on time, especially after a particularly exhausting practice. now he’s an hour late - not that kuroo and akaashi would mind, but it meant less time bokuto has to spend with them.

luckily, bokuto isn’t so easily deterred, having faith in his ability to make it to the bar in under thirty minutes. spamming a couple emojis - to which kuroo replied with ‘stop texting and start running’ - bokuto shoves his phone in his pocket once he feels the train steadily come to a stop. as soon as the doors slide open, bokuto’s zipping off the train as if his life depended on it.

in his peripheral, he catches a glimpse of a familiar face walking past him. was that - no, doesn’t matter, i’m late! bokuto continues walking toward the escalator but comes to a sudden halt, his curiosity ultimately getting the best of him. turning around, bokuto watches as the individual boards the train, staring at the back of their head and ignoring the anxious churn in his stomach at the possibility that he wasn’t just imagining things. when they turn around and take their seat, he swears his heart skips a couple beats at the sight of you.

i was right, bokuto exhaled a breath, watching as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. you’ve got your head down, your attention focused solely on your phone. you look good; your hair’s longer than it was in high school and the way you carry yourself is different. had you grown too? you look the slightest bit taller. of course your face had matured, sure, but it was the same nonetheless.

bokuto could never forget that face.

the bar completely slips his mind as he boards the train again. except now that you’re less than ten feet away from him, bokuto realizes he has no idea how to approach you. in fact, he realizes he has absolutely no idea what to say and this was stupid, and he should get off while he still can. the doors sliding shut behind him let him know that it’s too late to back out. he finds it funny how even after four years, your proximity still makes him nervous. the feelings he had for you easily come surging back into his chest at the sight of you smiling at your screen.

sensing his gaze, you look up from your phone and your smile drops.

the two of you stare at one another in silence, shocked at the sudden reunion. you’re the first to move, standing up and slowly taking off your ear buds, almost as if you’re afraid you’ll scare him off. the stare off only lasts a few more seconds before bokuto’s breaking out into a grin. laughing joyously, he gives into his instincts when he steps forward and scoops you up into a tight embrace, just as he would four years ago. you laugh along with him, tossing your arms around him and squeezing him back.

when he puts you down, he catches sight of an elderly woman glaring at the two of you for being loud. normally, he’d apologize but right now, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “i can’t believe you’re here!” bokuto exclaims, hands on your shoulders and eyes full of child-like wonder. “you came back?”

bokuto vividly remembers the day he learned that you had left to purse college in america. of course he was happy for you, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. he had pushed off asking you out for months and just when he had built enough courage to go through with it, he found out you were in another continent. as any normal person would, he often wondered if things would’ve been different had he confessed before you left. would you have stayed in japan with him? would you two still be together? would your relationship have survived long distance? that was years ago, when he was still young and would fall into a mood at the thoughts of what could’ve been. he likes to think he’s matured since then.

but that didn’t matter now, you were here!

“i graduated last week and i decided to visit.” you sigh, and he’s quick to notice the way your eyes glance over his features. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you looked almost sad. “i didn’t expect to run into anyone.”

“are you doing anything? i was just about to get a couple beers with some friends, you should join!” bokuto eagerly suggested. kuroo and akaashi wouldn’t mind, if anything they’d be thrilled to meet the girl bokuto had been fawning over during high school. “i’d love to catch up!”

“i would but i’ve gotta be up early. i’m announcing my engagement to my parents tomorrow.”

bokuto feels his heart sink to the very bottom of his stomach. your engagement? he tries his hardest not to let his face reveal his devastation, keeping a smile plastered on his lips at the news. “you’re engaged? wow, congratulations!”

“yeah, he actually proposed right after we graduated.” you hold out your hand to reveal the pretty band on your finger. you stare at the engagement ring with what bokuto thinks is a frown, but that can’t be right. “we came to japan to tell my parents.”

“we? he’s here too?”

“oh yeah but he had to solve some issue with our rental. i just came out to get us some dinner.” you explain, finally looking away from your ring to gesture to the takeout bag on the seat beside yours. “his favorite, yakiniku. is it still your favorite too?”

“yeah, it is.” bokuto laughed, looking down at his feet. this has to be some cruel joke. “i’m surprised you still remember.”

“of course, bo, you used to talk about craving it all the time.” you tease. “i don’t think i could forget even if i tried.”

“good, i’m glad that fact is permanently engraved in your brain.”

you don’t immediately respond, seeming content with just gazing at him. bokuto almost cries out for you to stop looking at him with those eyes. bokuto feels himself lean in, feels the urge to just give in and just kiss you; cup your pretty face and—no, enough, you’re engaged!

fuck, why were you engaged?

“i’m playing volleyball professionally.” bokuto says abruptly, putting a reasonable distrance between the two of you. he needs to the conversation to keep moving, needs a way to suffocate his impulses.

“i know,” you scoff softly. “i’ve watched all your games so far.”

“what?” bokuto’s eyes widen a fraction. could you be any more perfect? “you have?”

“yeah, my mom told me when you had made the team and i’ve been tuning in since.” you reveal with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. “besides, i had to brag to all my friends that i went to high school with the bokuto koutarou.”

“wow, i can’t believe you’d do that for me.” bokuto grins, running a hand through his hair. “thank you for your support!”

“always, bo.” you smile softly as the train slowly eases into the station. “well…this is my stop. can we get a rain check on the drinks? we’ll be happy to join you guys once our affairs are in order.”

“no, yeah, of course.” bokuto nods, internally cringing at your use of ‘we’. you’re already a ‘we’? fuck the ‘we’, i just want you. “i can’t wait to meet the lucky winner.”

“winner?” you hum in amusement as you step off the train, turning around to face bokuto, who doesn’t get off. “you make it sound like there was competition.”

“there definitely was. who knows, if i had gone through with asking you out, i could’ve been the lucky winner.” bokuto laughs, but it wasn’t funny. bokuto felt fucking sick. he knew better than to project his feelings onto you but it slipped out before he could stop himself. “…or you know, a runner up.” so much for being mature

apparently you didn’t think it was funny either, because you’re looking at him as if he had just told you he had some terminal illness. “what?”

“it’s nothing, i was just…being stupid.“ bokuto waves it off. “anyway, i’m really happy for you. congratulations again on the engagement!”

before you got a chance to reply, the doors of the train slide shut and bokuto finds himself exhaling in relief that he didn’t have to explain that final comment. planting another fake smile on his face as the train starts moving, he waves you goodbye. it isn’t until you’re completely out of sight that he let his smile drop, feeling the knot form in his throat. pulling out his phone, he sends another text to his friends,

not gonna make it tn, sorry

#[🍹] bokuto bae!#bokuto koutaro x reader #sfw #[🍹] haikyu!#haikyu!#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!!#hq!! angst

38 notes · View notes

helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings

GN reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@twitchchatvroom @parkeepingparker

#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur x reader #jschlatt x reader #mexican dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: near death #tw: blood #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: grief

710 notes · View notes

serafilms · 3 years

Note

Heyy! I’m so sorry about your blog! Last one I had got hacked and I lost most of my stories, it’s really awful but I promise it gets better!

Btw, I had sent a request to your other blog about a Percy x Chaos daughter!reader headcannons, and I completely understand if you don’t feel up to it, but I had to try!

percy jackson x chaos!reader hc’s

pairing – percy jackson x chaos!reader

genre – headcanons, fluff, gender neutral reader

warnings – none

a/n – sorry this one's a little short! but don't worry about me bub, i'm feeling fine! it was awful at first but i'm kind of glad i got to start over. you're so sweet for your concern though :) hope you like this!

unlike the name of your godly parent suggests, you're quite calm and collected

percy was in awe of you at first because of the sheer power you held

(ik we don't talk about it, but picture the scene in the movie when he sees annabeth fighting)

chaos children have a lot of powers and some of your strongest ones are creating 'blackholes,' so to speak, to travel through (doctor strange vibes but make it an empty void), and manipulating energy

so when he saw you, you were sparring with a very angry child of ares, creating blackholes to teleport around him and shooting balls of energy at him

cue heart eyes

i believe you two are the power couple of the millenium

like you can literally absorb and create power from thin air and percy can literally create hurricanes and earthquakes

so unstoppable that even monsters are afraid of you both

despite how equally powerful you both are, percy still puts you on a pedestal above him

heart eyes whenever you do anything

he's completely in awe

"look how cool my s/o looks"

"percy, they're literally eating spaghetti"

he literally is your #1 hype man and nobody can ever change that

if someone tries to come after you he'll beat their ass

and it goes both ways

you know better than anyone what percy's been through the last few years and believe that he deserves the world

if anybody ever shit talks him, they'll probably find themselves trapped in a blackhole void struggling to move

unless

sally trusts you to protect her son

and you make sure to keep him out of trouble and snitch on him when necessary

sparring sessions with you two are crazy

like people are genuinely afraid to be anywhere near you two when they happen

playful competitive spirit (out of love)

you two have faith in each other and know the extent of your powers, so while you won't unleash full power, there's no going easy on each other

ofc if either of you get hurt then you stop immediately

and then it's all apology cuddles and kisses

you two love watching superhero movies (marvel and dc *chef's kiss*)

percy always says that wanda (scarlet witch) reminds him of you

and you just call him aquaman all the time

best friends with the seven

literally you will have the craziest adventures with all of them

sometimes it feels like you're babysitting them

you and annabeth joke about being the parents of the group

"y/n, maybe we should get married"

percy is distressed

but like you and annabeth would be goals he can't deny it 😫

but anyways you keep him in check and he lifts you up when you're down

perfect balance

and i reiterate

p o w e r c o u p l e

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagines #heroes of olympus #hoo #the first sentence had me hooked and i was not disappointed

351 notes · View notes

turntechgoddesshead · 3 years

Text

Promise

Hey guys! Remember me? I was the rando that said i was gonna write Sally Face fanfic, wrote one headcanons post and yeeted off the internet for a couple days. Well, i’m back and I did indeed write a thing. This is the beginning of a series, if ya’ll like it that is. I don’t know if this will end up as Larry x Reader or Sal x Reader but hell, i guess we’ll see. Anyways, here ya go!

Also feel free to hit me up for Headcanons, they’re fun warm ups.

Words: 1624

TW: Mention of animal death, Parents leaving, and Juvy.

Y/n Is a girl and uses she/her pronouns, has freckles and glasses. Sorry haha, i have a hard time not writing in those features bc this did indeed start off as a shameless self insert. Y/N also has two dads bc happy pride month.

~~~~~~

A tiny cry echoed through the hallways of the labor ward, as a new life had blossomed just merely a few moments ago. Her fathers welcomed her into their lives with open arms and tears shedding from their eyes, as they drank in ever tiny inch of her brand-new body. She was absolutely perfect to them, and everything that they had worked so hard for. Her tiny hand gripped tightly onto the finger of the man who held her, her small green eyes cried tears of confusion as the second man beside her smiled and placed a gentle hand onto the top of her tiny head of H/C hair.

“She’s so beautiful,” The first man spoke to the other, failing to contain his tears. The nurses watched in silent anticipation as the two finally introduced themselves to the newest member of their family. The woman who sat in the bed, smiled happily watching the two interact with the baby which she had carried inside her for nine months. She was finally meeting the family she forever deserved to be apart of, and the family which she had so graciously chosen to give her baby up to. After passing the baby girl off to the nurses, the two men embraced the woman into a teary hug, thanking her for all of her kindness.

“Thank you so much, for our little Y/N Moore.”

Days turned into weeks, which casually turned into months, leading to the sudden and unexpected change that occurs within the years of growing up. Five years into her young life, little Y/N and her fathers moved into their own little slice of heaven, room 402 of the Addison apartments in Nockfell. They happily lived along with the other residents, making friends with the Johnson family which resided in the basement below. Larry Johnson was the only child of his parents, Lisa and Jim, who was just excited to have another child his age in the complex. The two children eventually became inseparable, always in one room or the other inevitably getting into whatever trouble children at the age of five or six get into. Y/N eventually grew into a worrisome little girl, always anxious over whether or not the duo would get away with their latest antics while Larry easily concocted them in that little brain of his. Three years Into the Moore’s and Johnsons friendship Young Y/N and Larry played outside excitedly with a handful of firecrackers which Mrs. Lisa had brought home. Y/N expressed to the young boy how anxious she was about playing with something which her fathers would inevitably be angry about, but eventually calmed down and began to play after her best friend convinced her it would be alright.

“Larry, be sure to aim it away from the building!” She told him in between her high-pitched giggles. Snow outside fell from the sky and landed delicately into her hair, just to melt moments after.

“I don’t think you can aim them He-" Before the boy could finish his sentence, the firecracker went off, flying towards the building and into an open window, before exploding into a flurry of pops and whistles. The sudden silence after the firecracker ceased lasted for only a moment as a sudden screech emitted from Mrs. Gibson, the old woman who resided within the apartment. All color drained from the freckled face of the little girl as she gazed up at the window in horror, listening to the screams of terror and anger that omitted from just a few floors above her.

“L-Larry,” Larry had cut Y/N off before she could even form words. He gripped her wrist tightly, pulling her out of the sight of the window. Hurriedly he tugged her along to the side of the building so neither of them could be seen, glancing around the corner once for caution, before turning his attention to his friend. Y/N’s face had grown ghost-like as fat tears began to form in her eyes and roll down the center of her cheek.

“Larry, did we hurt her?” She cried, putting her face into her hands. Her sobs turned into hiccups as she constantly attempted to wipe the water off her face. The pressure of her best friends hands gripping tightly onto her shoulders, suddenly pulled her out of her panicked state. She looked up at Larry who seemed as cool as possible, his eyes were sharp as he looked down at her with determination.

“No Y/N, we didn’t,” He told her, nodding his head, “You were up in the treehouse by yourself, I asked you to play, and you were angry at me remember?”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she realized the weight of the situation, “No, Larry, I can’t leave you by yourself!”

Larry shook his head.

“Go sit in the treehouse, and count to a thousand. Once you do, climb down, and go straight home. When your dad asks you what you did, you say you played in the treehouse by yourself,” He ordered her, as though he hadn’t been coming up with this plan on the spot.

“It’s not going to work!” Y/N continued to sob.

“Yes, it is! Tell them you were mad because I nocked your glasses off with a snowball! But you didn’t play with me today, promise me you’ll do what I say!” Larry shook her shoulders slightly in desperation, before the girl eventually nodded to him.

“Good,” Larry sighed, releasing the grip he had on her shoulders. He watched as his best friend turned on her heal and began to run towards the tree house.

Y/N didn’t hear from Larry for two weeks after that. Her parents kept her at arm’s reach for what felt like an eternity, as she constantly wondered what her friend was up to. Every day she would ask permission to make her way down to the basement to see her friend, and every day she was denied. Weeks turned into months, as her parents protective grip seemed to loosen ever so slightly, reluctantly allowing her to wander the complex on her own after a plethora of begging on the young girls part. She sauntered through the hallway, her eyes glued to the stained hardwood floor as she walked mindlessly, wondering about her friend who she knew was just five floors below. It wasn’t until the little girl had bumped mindlessly into another person that she was snatched from her anxiety inducing thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She spoke meekly, fixing the round glasses that sat delicately on her nose. Upon looking up, Y/N immediately recognized the woman with long brunette hair and much more empty than usual eyes.

“Mrs. Lisa!” Y/N replied, her emotions suddenly too much for her small body to handle, “Is Larry here?”

Lisa looked down at little Y/N almost painfully, her eyes bore dark circles under them, and she held the mop in her hand tightly, “Larry is down in the basement right now Y/N,” She replied calmly.

Sheepishly, Y/N let out a small, “Oh,” and stared down at her feet as she rocked back and forth anxiously.

Lisa smiled just a little bit at the little girl and pulled a small card out of the back of her pocket, “Tell you what though, why don’t you just go visit him now?”

Excitedly, Y/N snatched the card from Lisa’s hand and hugged her with all her strength, excited at the opportunity to see her best friend once again, “Thank you Mrs. Lisa! You’re the best!”

In a hurry she quickly ran towards the elevator and stuck the keycard in, which allowed her access to the basement. It took her only a moment to get to the apartment that was underground, but when she did, she eagerly ran to the door. Not even bothering to nock, the little girl opened the door and ran straight for the room where she knew Larry was. She opened the door to his room, noticing him laying on his bed with his hands behind his head and bulky headphones covering his ears as his foot tapped ever so lightly.

“Larry!” She cried excitedly, jumping on top of the poor unexpecting boy, “I’ve missed you so much!”

Larry scrambled to take his headphones off and toss his Walkman to the side, “Y/N?! Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?!” She replied to his question, crushing him in the largest hug all while attempting to hold back her cries.

Larry grew silent, looking down at his hands before looking at Y/N in embarrassment, “The firecracker killed Mrs. Gibsons pet rabbit.”

Y/N let out a gasp and covered her mouth.

“And they sent me to Juvie for a couple weeks.”

“No!” Y/N cried, grabbing his hand in instinct.

“Y/N I-“ Larry paused, looking at her before sighing, “I think it drove my dad away.”

Y/N cocked her head in confusion and tightened the grip on Larry’s hand, “What do you mean?”

“My dad left a couple days after they sent me away,” He confessed, his face burning red in shame. He looked away from his friend and steadied his breathing, as though trying to contain his own emotions, “I thought I drove you away too.”

Y/N’s heart jumped to her throat as she defensively rose to her feet, “Larry, you couldn’t ever drive me away! Daddy and Papa have been acting so weird and protective, and now I guess I know why… but it wasn’t my choice I promise.”

Tears fell down her face, but she quickly wiped them from her face and continued to talk, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, but from now on, we do everything together!”

Larry smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.

“You promise?”

“Pinky.”

#sally face fanfic #sally face #sally fisher x reader #sal fisher x reader #larry johnson x reader #larry johnson #Sally Fisher #Sal Fisher #ashley campbell

88 notes · View notes

all-my-love-for-harry · 3 years

Text

I love you meow and furever

summary: the hard part about having animals is knowing we’re their whole life but they’re only here for a small part of ours.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with some fluff, mentions of death (of a pet) and grieving a loss.

a/n: hello again! i know i haven’t posted in a while and i’m sorry! i’ve been writing some pieces, trying to make longer one shots and whatnot, hopefully those will be out soon enough. the reason why i’m posting this is because recently my childhood cat passed away and i wrote this trying to feel a little better. hope you enjoy, please please let me know what you think!

read the rest of my work here.

(gif not mine)

Salem wasn't only a cat. Salem was a companion, a friend. Salem was, for the longest time, her shoulder to cry on. The only one who was there for her every night after a shitty day. She knew from the moment she looked into those yellow eyes that she was going to do whatever it takes to give that cat the best life it could possibly have. Y/n knew pets aren't immortal, and after fifteen years with hers, she tries to prepare herself for the day where Salem couldn't be with her anymore. People close to her tried to avoid the topic, and honestly so did she. Y/n didn't want to talk about how the world would look like after Salem is gone, so she always focused on her furry friend that was cuddled with her on the bed and pushing those thoughts away.

But all the preparation didn't make it hurt anything less when the day actually came.

It wasn't long after Y/n moved in with her boyfriend of two years, Harry. Both Y/n and Salem got used to the house pretty quickly, and Harry never minded seeing the black cat's things around the house, if anything it made him like his house was becoming a home and for once it looked like someone actually lived there. He liked the idea of coming home and going straight to the living room because he just knew he'd find them cuddling there. Salem was also an extremely well-behaved cat, he's never in his life scratched or hissed at anyone and has always been loving and affectionate. As Salem got old, it got harder for him to do things he used to do when he was a kitten. He stopped eating at some point and started to lose a lot of weight, causing Y/n to give him vitamins and all kinds of supplements to help him gain weight again. For some time it worked, and Y/n felt incredibly relieved about it. But then it got hard for Salem to get up and move around, causing him problems to go to the bathroom.

Harry was out at the gym when he got a call from Y/n. It was the way her shaky voice was interrupted with hiccups every few words and how she was practically asking him to rush home without really asking how he knew the moment of putting Salem down has arrived. Harry wasn't sure if he had ever experienced that kind of pain before that day, and to this day he still couldn't describe the way his heart broke into a million pieces when Salem's heart stopped beating and Y/n couldn't breathe because of how hard she was crying. He remembered staying on the floor with her for hours, letting her cry on his chest. She'd stop for a moment, thinking she had no tears left to cry but then she remembered her life companion was gone and a new wave of sobs hit her. That circle went on until the sun went down and the natural light of the moon was the only thing illuminating them.

Weeks passed and Harry didn't even question when he found cat food still in the kitchen, or when he saw Salem's toys and cat trees still around the house. She didn't seem to want to throw them away, and Harry certainly wasn't going to ask her to. He also didn't question the time he found her crying on the floor of the kitchen of their shared house because she bought cat food when she was at the store without realizing she didn't need it anymore.

However, Harry didn't realize how emotionally dependent she was on Salem until he came home one day and found her crying in their bedroom while holding a blanket Salem used to sleep with. He didn't know what to do to help her, and he hated the fact that he felt so useless.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, mum." He said one day through the phone. "I hate seeing her like this."

Anne sighed. "Poor Y/n, everyone knew how much Salem meant to her."

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Here's the thing, sweetheart. It's never going to stop hurting. Time will help, for sure, but it will keep hurting until it becomes a more bearable pain." She paused. "Let her grieve her loss. When the time is right, you will pull her out of that hole, I'm sure of that." Harry nodded even though his mum couldn't exactly see him. "Maybe not right now but, perhaps adopting a new kitten would help."

"I thought of that, I just didn't know how to bring it up to her. Don't want her to think I'm ready to replace Salem." He sighed. He only knew the cat for two years, but it was enough to know it hurt him too. He's shed a few tears himself, mostly in the shower to try and not disturb his girlfriend. "I'll tell you what we decide, I gotta go mum."

"Please do. I love you, baby."

"Love you too, mum."

Just as he told his mum, Harry started to find ways to tell Y/n they could adopt a pet if she wanted to, he understood if she didn't want to have another cat, but he knew how much Y/N loved animals. She was so good to them and had such a big heart Harry couldn't think she'd stop herself from giving some of all the love she had to offer to an animal that needed it. It could be a cat, a dog, hell he'd buy her a fish if that was what her heart desired.

Ever since Salem passed, Y/n laid on the bed of their bedroom and played All Dead, All Dead by Queen religiously every day through the speakers. Of course, Harry let her be. It was her coping mechanism, he guessed. So when he heard the music upstairs, he immediately knew where to find her. He stood by the doorway, looking at the love of her life lying on their bed. He hesitates to enter the room, not wanting to disturb her, but he needed to talk to her so he pushed himself from the doorway and made his way to where she was, taking a seat next to her.

"Hey, lovie." He said softly, reaching for her hand.

"Hey, H." She gave him a small smile. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Take your time, darling. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yeah! It's nothing bad, I promise." He said. "I talked to mum, she said the Humane Society back home just got a bunch of rescues in need for a home." Y/n opened her mouth to say something but Harry was not done. "I thought we could drive there this week and go there. We don't need to adopt one if you don't want to but look around wouldn't hurt."

"Harry... I'm not ready." She said. "I'm not sure I can go there without breaking into sobs."

"I'll be there with you, baby. I swear you'll be fine."

"I'm not ready to have another one." She said in a shaky voice. "I feel like... like I'm betraying Sally in a way. It's been only two months and... I miss him, H." Y/n started crying again. "I'm scared of forgetting him, how he was like. What if we adopt one and I forget him?"

"Oh, sweetheart." He cooed, taking her into his arms. "That's not going to happen. Salem will always be present with us and will always watch over you as he used to when he was here. Adopting another pet won't change what you lived with Salem, or how much he meant and still means to you. I get that you're not ready, but I also know how much you love cats, and how you're always thinking about the ones that don't have a home, someone to love them and take care of them. You have the biggest heart, and you've always been so good to animals, I wouldn't want you to close off to the idea of giving one the opportunity to experience what it feels like to have a person who loves them. We don't have to go this week if you don't want to but promise me you'll think about it, alright?"

"I promise." That's all she said before wrapping her arms around Harry's torso, cuddling closer to him.

Y/n thought about it for a while, she really did. Everything Harry said stuck in her head and with every day that passed, she felt less and less guilty of thinking about getting a new cat. The thought was still at the back of her head and it obviously still hurt but Y/n thought she was ready to accept Harry's offer to go to the Humane Society to look at the kittens and doing it without having a mental breakdown. She decided to tell Harry as they were making breakfast, only two weeks later after he first brought it up.

"So... I thought about what you told me the other day." She started. Harry's face lights up as he immediately knew what she was talking about. "And I think you're right. We can go there and look at the kittens. We don't have to adopt one."

"We don't have to adopt one." He reassured her, although he knew that thought might change once they crossed the doors of the Humane Society.

They decided to go on Wednesday. Halfway through the week, probably not many people would be there meaning they would have more time with the kittens if they wanted. The entire ride Harry could feel the anxiety radiating from Y/n's body. She was nervous, very nervous. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself she was fine, she still knew she was going to cry as soon as they entered the building. That's why she let Harry do all the talking and just followed him through the hallway that would take them to the room where they had all the cats. They had the cats and the dogs in different rooms, the majority of the dogs were in cages but the cats were allowed outside of them. They were the only ones there so as soon as they entered, Y/n cooed out loud at the sight of the cats and sat on the floor where immediately a couple of them walked towards her and started to sniff her.

"I'm going to cry." She announced.

"They're cute, aren't they?" Harry said, extending one hand towards an orange cat for it to sniff. "This one's name's Chester."

She looked up at Harry with tears in her eyes. "I want them all."

"I know you do." He smiled sweetly at her.

They spent a couple of hours there, just hanging out with all of the cats. Some of them were shy and wouldn't come close to them, and some would even lay on their laps and take a nap. The only thing Y/n could think about was how badly she wanted one. She's missed having the weight of a little ball of fur on top of you, purring and begging for some cuddles.

"Can we get one?" She looked at Harry again, who was patiently waiting for her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, I miss having a pet. And you're right, I will always love Salem, that won't change."

Harry nodded. "What if we get a kitten? You said that when you got Salem he was already a year old."

"I think a kitten will be amazing."

There were only two girl kittens available, one was a small white one and the other one was a tortoiseshell. The latest was so unique looking, and wouldn't stop rubbing herself on Harry's hand. The cat allowed Y/n to pick her up and started purring right away. y the look in his girlfriend's eyes, Harry knew that was the one.

They decided to name her Misty. They thought it suits her. Y/n couldn't stop smiling even after leaving the Humane Society, and Harry felt so happy about it. They told them they could come to pick Misty up next Monday, so they had to wait almost a whole week to finally take their new kitten home, but that didn't matter. Harry was fine now that Y/n's smile was back on her face. All she could talk about during the week was how excited she was about getting Misty, so Harry knew he made the right choice by taking her there.

When Sunday came, Harry felt how Y/n started to grow anxious again, her guilty thoughts making a comeback. So he decided to give her something to reassure her that everything was going to be fine.

"So I saw you with Sally's blanket again," Harry said, walking towards her with something behind his back. "And I know what's going through that little head of yours, so I wanted to give you something to assure you he will always be here with us." He shyly put what he was hiding on her lap. Y/n's eyes immediately watered when she saw the framed picture of the two of them with Salem. It was from Y/n's birthday. Anne took it after Y/n blew the candles of her cake, a huge smile on her face while Harry was holding Salem, a smile on his own face. Salem was wearing one of those birthday hats. "You can put it by the fireplace, or by your nightstand."

Y/n looked up at Harry. "Thank you." She breathed out, instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I love you so much, Harry."

"I love you too, darling. Just as much as Salem and Misty love you."

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs

327 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

And I always will - Tom Holland

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

week 3 babies! it’s been so long since i last wrote for Tom and this story just screamed for him when I made up the plot. so here is some cute friends to lovers christmas edition! updated the fanficmas post with next week’s fic and added another one for the 24th, check it out if you are interested!

word count: 4.2k

masterlist

It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date!

That’s your mantra for the evening and the closer the time is coming when Tom is picking you up, the louder you’re shouting it in your mind. Well, while it was sure he was nowhere near your apartment you physically kept telling yourself, heart pounding in your chest with each passing moment, but when he texted you that he’d be there in five you shut yourself up.

Stepping to the mirror you take one last look at yourself in your simple black dress and red blazer, a simple but fitting look for the annual Christmas party of the company you’re working for. You tug your hair behind your ears to make your earrings more apparent, they are like little red Christmas ornaments, the perfect touch up for the occasion and you also happen to know Tom loves how you wear them around the holidays every year.

This whole thing started a week ago when he was over for a movie night, something you often did when he was in town and you whined about having to go to the company party alone again and listen to your boss comment on how she was already married at your age. She is a very old school woman with strong beliefs that a woman should be able to catch herself a man at an early age if she doesn’t want to end up alone for the rest of her life.

You were only twenty three, not at all in rush to settle down, but you hated the teasing and commenting every year. It happened all through the year, but it was the worst at the Christmas party, because then she had the time to talk to you without the distraction of work, so she was able to touch on more personal topics as well.

Tom listened to you patiently, letting you rage about the irritation even the thought brings to you every year before proposing his idea.

“I could go with you and pretend to be your boyfriend.”

The words rolled off his tongue so easily, like it was nothing at all, when in reality it put your stomach into a knot immediately. It might have not mean anything to him other than just a friendly request but it meant so much more to you, being in love with the man for years.

Cliché, right? Falling for your best friend and keeping your emotions bottled up because you’re too afraid to come clear and possibly ruin your friendship. It sounds like a horrible teen movie, but this is the truth. It’s not something you can just blurt out without having to overthink about all the possible outcomes that would send you into a rabbit hole of the worst case scenarios until you are scared to talk about your feelings for life.

You were hesitant about his idea, but like every time, he managed to talk your ears off and convince that it would be a great idea.

“Lots are already thinking we are a couple, it would be easy!” he assured you, and he gave you a sly, cocky smirk, one you can never resist. So naturally, you said yes at the end and that brings you to this evening, when you’re nervously waiting for him to arrive to pick you up so the two of you could go to that stupid party together, pretending to be a couple.

You keep pacing back and forth in the small hallway as you wait for him to arrive and when you hear the knock on the door you jump.

It’s not a date, Y/N! Just pretentious!

You keep telling yourself your little mantra as you stride over to the door and open it for him. And there he is, handsome as ever, wearing black dress pants and a nice, crispy looking white shirt under his wool coat, the top buttons of the shirt left undone to let your greedy eyes a little hint of his toned chest underneath the fabric. You need to stop yourself from sucking on your breath, he looks so great, not just now, but all the damn time, making you feel lightheaded with just a simple smile.

“You look beautiful, girlfriend,” he tells you, putting a teasing tone into the last word and though it was just a joke, it made your heart flutter for sure.

“Thank you, boyfriend,” you shyly smile, the word tastes so sweet on your tongue, but there’s some hidden pain behind it.

“Ready to go?” You nod and grab your coat and purse before shutting the door behind you and locking the door.

The ride is short, but feels like forever. You’re anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, heart pounding in your chest and you fear that Tom might hear it and question you about it. This is so nerve-wrecking, and so not how you imagined to be his girlfriend for the first time.

Though it’s the closest you’ll get to the title, probably, you tell yourself, stomach churning at the thought.

“Hey,” Tom’s soft voice grabs your attention when he stops at a red light. “Nervous?”

“Just a little,” you nod shortly. “I just… want to my boss to take me seriously for once,” you lie, because there’s absolutely no way you are telling him it’s him that makes you shit your panties.

“I’ll be right there with you and we’ll charm the shit out of that woman,” he smirks making you laugh at his words.

“Hope so,” you mumble with a sigh, turning back to stare out the window.

Tom parks down in an empty spot near the venue that holds the part and he helps you out of the car giving you a hand, but he doesn’t let go of it once you are standing on your feet, holding your hand and even lacing your fingers together. When he gives it a gentle squeeze you peek up at him and notice that he is looking down at your with a warm smile as if he is trying to tell you that it’s gonna be alright without words. You try to swallow your anxious thoughts and hope he doesn’t find your hand too sweaty as the two of you head inside.

You work for a huge marketing company, one of the biggest ones in London. You landed an assistant job two years ago, fresh out of college and worked yourself up to be a fulltime graphic designer, mostly working on visuals for smaller campaigns running in the company, but you were proud of your work and enjoyed it to the fullest. One of the lead designers is rumored to retire sometime next year and you were hoping to be considered for his spot, thought there are quite a lot who has been working there for a longer time, but you felt like you have proven yourself to be suitable for the job. Tonight you are praying to charm your boss so she would move your name forward in the process and earn you a few good points at the admission, but this meant that you have to make her believe you are the definition of couple goals so she would get off your back and finally see that you are trying your best to move forward in life.

The venue is one big ball room, several tables set on the sides with the department’s name on the table to let people know where to sit, the luxurious decoration making the whole place appear like Winter Wonderland straight out of a fairytale. There’s a stage at the very back with a DJ already playing and a dancefloor in the middle, some guests are busting their best dance moves there, while others are enjoying the open buffet that runs along the two sides, tables filled with the most delicious looking meals.

A waiter greets you both, offering you champagne and you gladly take a glass while Tom shakes his head with a soft “I’m driving, thank you”.

Looking around you see some familiar faces but there are a lot new ones. The company has a whole office building with five floors and one usually stays on their own floor throughout the working days, you don’t interact much, so it’s hard to tell who you are working with on a wider level.

“Do you know where we are sitting?” Tom asks leaning closer to your ear so you hear what he is saying over the music and as his hot breath hits your neck it sends a shiver down your spine.

He is so close and his hand feels so warm on mine, you think to yourself while your eyes scan the place, trying to find your colleagues. When you spot them you pull Tom in their direction, plastering a nervous smile on your lips.

“Hi everyone!” you greet them arriving to the big, circular table. You work with a team of ten designers, some of them are older, but there are two around your age. Sally is twenty-five, her desk is right across yours and you’ve become closer, eating lunch together almost every day, and then there’s Owen, who is basically the office’s gossip source, always knows what happened to who and he makes sure to give the word away to the right people. Your older colleagues find him nosy, but you think it’s funny how he can still get any information from anyone even though he is known to have a big mouth. There’s just something about a tall, gay dude who approaches you with a sly smile, it’s like he puts a spell on people and they magically start talking. He often joins you and Sally for lunch, the three of you forming a club of young, ambitious people, holding each other up so you don’t get crushed by the judgy thirties.

When Owen looks up from his cocktail he almost spits it out seeing Tom standing next to you, holding your hand firmly.

“Little miss Y/N?! What is this supposed to be?” he gasps dramatically and you just chuckle shaking your head at him.

“This, is my uhh—This is my boyfriend, Tom,” you nervously introduce him and he waves around politely.

“Hi, nice to meet you all,” he calls out and most just acknowledge him with a nod and a hello, but Owen is over the roof that you just appeared with Tom Holland by your side.

“Why haven’t you tell me you were fucking Spider-Man himself?” he continues to rage and you almost choke on your own saliva hearing his words. Your cheeks start to heat up, but seemingly Tom doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as you, he just chuckles lightly, before pulling out your seat to help you sit before he takes the seat next to you.

Sally, who is sitting between you and Owen just slaps his chest in a warning manner.

“Control yourself!” she scolds him, but it only earns her an eye-roll.

“I’m sorry, but I feel offended I didn’t know about this,” he explains pointing at you and Tom.

“I hope you understand that I like to keep my private life, well, private. So it’s my fault Y/N hasn’t been bragging about us.” Tom rescues you from making up some stupid lie and you’re happy you didn’t have to say a word, so you just chug down half of your champagne in hopes it would ease your nerves a little.

Surprisingly, Owen backs off immediately, giving you a knowing look, as if he understood so well the life of a well-known actor even though he was far from being one.

“Oh, totally. I get it, don’t worry about it, Tom. Though I’m sure she’s been dying to talk about you all along.”

“Has she?” Tom teasingly looks down at you and you just let out an awkward chuckle nodding.

“Yeah. Exactly,” you mumble finishing off your champagne and putting it to the table. Tom can easily tell how nervous you are, so he puts a hand to your knee under the table and gives it a gentle squeeze, leaving it there afterwards, but it just rises your anxiety level. You are highly aware of every touch and look, as if your senses became hypersensitive all of a sudden, but only to Tom.

“So how long you two have been together?” Sally asks with a warm smile, trying her best to steal the opportunity from Owen to talk so he doesn’t say anything inappropriate and you are endlessly thankful to her for that.

“Um, couple of months,” you say the first thing that comes to your mind and from the corner of your eye you see Tom just nod along your words.

“And how do you know each other if I might ask?”

“We’ve been friends for a long time, actually,” Tom speaks up this time. “Y/N’s dad used to work with my dad when we were younger and we sort of became friends. I was always in love with her, though it took me a long time to grow the balls to ask her out.” You are stunned at how easily he is talking about something that’s not real, as if he has been building up this story in his mind for a while, but that can’t be the case of it.

“Oh, this is so cute! And did you feel the same way?” Sally asks you. Licking your lips you glance over at Tom.

“Yeah. Loved him all along,” you softly say and it’s the truth, however he will probably never know about it.

“It’s like in the movies!” Sally gasps, holding her hand to her chest.

Tom’s eyes still hold yours and he gives your knee another squeeze that makes you take a deep breath before you tear your gaze away from him, feeling giddy and lightheaded.

You stay at the table a little longer before the two of you head to fill your plates before everything is fully gone. It’s kind of a relief to get away from Owen and Sally, you hated lying to them, but you had no choice.

“Everything alright?” Tom asks, brushing a hand against the small of your back as the two of you stand at the buffet, looking at the food.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nod with a weak smile. “Just a little nervous,” you admit.

“Don’t be, we are doing just fine,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses your forehead gently. It’s nothing new, he often does this and the gesture always manages to pull you out of your boiling thoughts and it has the same effect this time as well. You feel like you can breathe again after holding it in for a long time.

You carelessly glance over your shoulder as you wait for Tom to finish packing his plate up with veggies when you spot your boss talking to a guy who you recall works as an accountant on a higher level. Her eyes move just enough to meet yours and you suck on your breath when she spots Tom next to you, right when he reaches out mindlessly sliding a hand to your waist.

“Oh God, she saw us,” you mumble under your breath as you watch her excuse herself from the guy and head in your way.

“Hm? What?” Tom lifts his head and his eyes quickly find the tall, lean woman walking towards you with ambitious and confident steps. Mrs. Winston is the kind of woman that could easily intimidate any high power man in the industry, and she worked hard to be where she is now. However, you don’t necessarily always share her beliefs of the world and life, for instance her vision of a woman marrying a man as young as possible.

“Y/N? Who is this handsome man you brought tonight?” she asks right away, eyes landing on Tom who has put his plate to the table behind him and circled an arm around your waist. Before you could even get a word out, Tom extends his other hand out for her, with a charming smile.

“Tom Holland. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Winston. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Oh God, you’ll never get used to hearing him say that and you’re amazed he remembered her name even though you just mentioned it earlier.

“Nice to meet you too. Call me Carol,” she smiles, seemingly already loving Tom and honestly, you can’t blame her. “I saw that you were bringing a plus one, but I was expecting a relative,” she comments finally paying you a glance and you can feel the sharpness in it, how she partially meant it as an insult, but you just smile at her widely.

“Oh, no. Hope you don’t mind it.”

“Not at all. So tell me, why do you look so familiar, Tom?”

“I’m an actor, you might have seen me in movies.” It takes Mrs. Winston to put the picture together, but when she eventually does, she gives you a highly approving look.

“Well yes! Now I remember! I think my son in law is a big fan.”

“Give him my best wishes,” Tom nods with a warm smile.

“You know, I’m happy to see Y/N finally with a worthy man by her side. I always told her to grab herself a good one before she runs out of time,” Mrs. Winston starts her usual sermon.

“Oh, I think Y/N is perfect on her own, I think she is an amazing individual,” Tom replies and your and Mrs. Winston’s eyebrows rise at the same time. “I don’t think a woman needs a man by her side to make her complete and I admire her strength as a person on her own, not just in a relationship.”

“Don’t you think a woman needs the support of a man to succeed in this man dominated world we live in?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head confidently and you feel him pull you closer to his side while you listen to his words curiously. “I think women deserve the recognition of them and their work and not to have it overshadowed by any men. I’m proud to be Y/N’s boyfriend and I’ll support her through everything, but I would never let anyone think of her as just a part of our relationship, or the person connected to me, because she is so much more than that and I want everyone to recognize that.”

You are at a loss of words, you knew Tom was a feminist, supporting women’s rights passionately, but you never heard him talk about it in a close relation with you. His words twisted your heart in the best possible way and though tonight is all about faking, something is telling you that these are his genuine thoughts, except the part about your relationship, but he could easily mean just your friendship under that.

Mrs. Winston seems stunned at the honest and forward answer, though you can tell it surprised her that someone went against her beliefs. However, it doesn’t seem like she is upset about it, more like she appreciates the balls that someone spoke up.

Her eyes fall back on you and there’s a small smile tugging at her red lips.

“He is a keeper, Y/N,” she simply tells you before walking away.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out when she is far away. Tom gives your waist another squeeze as he glances down at you with a smirk. “It’s like you put a spell on her!”

“I’m a charming bastard,” he shrugs smugly before grabbing his plate from the table and the two of you make your way back to the table.

Following the little talk with your boss you feel a lot more relaxed, knowing that Tom charmed the shit out of the woman. Now you are starting to enjoy the party, laughing with Sally and Owen and you’re happy to see that Tom is getting along with them pretty well too.

When the DJ starts playing All I Want For Christmas, the whole room cheers as one and most guests rush to the dance floor, that includes you and Tom as well.

He keeps you close, twirling you and moving around with you to the song, even singing it just like most people around you. Looking around you spot Mrs. Winston dancing as well, a lot more reserved than you, but she looks like she’s genuinely having a good time. She winks at you when your eyes meet and she sees Tom wrap an arm around your waist. You feel yourself blushing and you turn back to him, earning a sweet smile from him as he is enjoying the party.

When the song ends, the DJ slows it down a few knots playing Christmas Lights by Coldplay, people start to leave the dancefloor, only couple staying to slow dance to the song. Your eyes meet Tom and you thought he might want to go back to the table, but instead, his arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you to his chest, starting to sway to the rhythm.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you feel his body pressed against yours, his hands holding your waist firmly, and you cheek is next to his, occasionally brushing in the motions. You run your hands up his broad shoulders and rest them behind his neck, a shiver running down your spine when you hear him sing the lines into your ear:

“Like some drunken Elvis singing, I go singing out of tune, saying how I always loved you darling and I always will.”

You lean back just enough to look into his eyes, feeling like the words he sang were a message addressed straight to you and you needed to see it in his look. When your gazes meet your heart skips a beat when they validate your thoughts. He sang those lines on purpose and he wanted you to hear them, but still, you can’t bring yourself to say or do something. You just stand there, wrapped in his arms, eyes lost in his, swaying gently to the song.

He brings a hand up to your face and tugs your hair behind your ears, his yes fall to your earring and he can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips.

“I don’t know if this is the right time, but I feel like it is,” he softly starts, seemingly having a hard time to find his words. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you breathe out faintly.

“I love you.”

The words almost push you out of your balance, and you feel like you are falling down in a deep, endless hole. He said the words you’ve been aching to hear from him for so long, he really said them and he is looking at you with eyes you’ve only seen in the mirror when you were thinking about telling him about your feelings. But this time the look belongs to him and he is breathlessly waiting for you to say something in return.

“I love you too,” you softly tell him, brushing your fingers gently along his jawline. He breaks a relieved smile, but then furrows his eyebrows in a serious expression.

“Just to make it sure, you are not talking about a friendly love, right?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“No. Not friendly,” you assure him and he sighs in relief again.

“Great, because it would have been really awkward.”

You bite into your bottom lip, shyly staring up at him, a little lost about what should be said or done next, when you hear Owen call out from behind you.

“You guys are standing under the mistletoe! Kiss!”

First you turn to look at him and then you follow the direction where he is pointing and you see that you are in fact standing under a little mistletoe, hanging from the ceiling. Turning to face Tom you shyly smile at him, while he looks way more confident in himself.

“We can’t break the rule,” he chuckles teasingly, making you laugh as well before leaning down he captures your lips in a sweet, breathtaking kiss.

You feel like a teenager again, the butterflies are going wild in your stomach and you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking, but you couldn’t care less. All you could think about is Tom and that you were finally kissing him. Teenage you would lose her mind knowing you finally got to kiss him, after all those years of secretly dreaming about it.

Tom kisses you again and again until you both are breathing heavily, so he pulls back a little, resting his forehead against yours, his hands keeping you close to him.

“Wanna get out of here?” he breathes out and you nod your head eagerly.

“Fuck yes,” you chuckle making him laugh as well before he grabs your hand and pulls you back to the table to grab your stuff and then head out.

You don’t bother to say goodbye, or tell anyone you’ve left, you were busy feeling Tom’s hands touching you wherever he could, his lips finding yours every other minute. You both are a hot mess in the car on the way home and when you finally reach your apartment, you turn on the Christmas lights in your room, before Tom pulls you down to the bed and makes love to you all through the night.

general/forever taglist for Tom Holland

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Tom taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Tom fics!

@zaahidahhh @shawn-youth @wildflower-cth @imaginashawnns @haute-shawn @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @cutepenguin1 @madatmendes @harrysleftchelseaboot @sarcasticallywitty15 @dontworrysunflower

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

#tom #holland #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fictions #fanficmas #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

228 notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: dis a long one HAHAH

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

You groggily twisted in your bed as you tried to find the nagging nuisance that interrupted your peaceful slumber that barely lasted five hours. Your vision slowly focused as you rubbed your eyes vigorously, still searching for that damned alarm clock that you couldn’t seem to find.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, turning on the lamp beside your bed and hissing at the sharp light that was out to attack your pupils. The alarm clock, which somehow made its way onto the floor, read 7:00 AM, September 14th.

You scratched the side of your head, wondering why on earth your past self decided to wake you up this early on a random day.

Until it clicked.

September 14th. The Academic Decathlon competition that was being held in D.C. - the one your team had been preparing for months on end.

With all the ruckus that’s happened in the past few months, the competition was filed under the “unimportant events” cabinet in your mind. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to go. The only reason you were in decathlon was because you and Peter had a competition going to see who could get into as many after-school activities as possible while keeping their grades up. Plus, he said your intelligence would be an asset to the team.

It was stupid, really, but you both found joy in watching the other succeed, and at the time, Peter thought it’d be a push for you considering you were demotivated to study.

After he left you, you quit everything else besides decathlon. When you tried to, they told you you weren’t allowed to due to your name already being written down as one of the team’s members. You slacked off and often avoided going to the after-school practice altogether, hence why you forgot about it.

However, right now, it wasn’t a burden you had to bear. You were grateful for the upcoming distraction, and you thanked God Peter was somehow able to spontaneously quit the team the other day, the 'Stark Internship' granting him access to do so. Luckily for you, that meant some form of escape without having to be around him.

You felt yourself become lighter already, and you quickly got ready for the fast-approaching competition.

Once found your team waiting by the bus, you were greeted by a disoriented-looking Flash, making you giggle as you approached him while giving everyone you passed by a smile. “You look like shit.” You commented when you reached him at the back of the lengthy bus.

“I feel like it,” he groaned, his forehead pressing into the side of the vehicle, “I’m so not a morning person.”

You rolled your eyes and handed him the iced coffee you bought for him on the way, “I know, that’s why I got you this.” You said, shaking the beverage and holding it out for him, "Drink up, Eugene. We got people to beat. And before you ask, yes it has almond milk in it.”

He lifted his head and looked at the coffee in surprise, then back at you, “You’re a lifesaver.” He said, engulfing you in a hug so suddenly you had to hold onto the side of the bus to keep you both from falling back.

You teasingly shook your head and patted him on the back, “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

“I don’t disagree.” He said, pulling back and taking the coffee from your hands with a small ’thank you.'

You stared at him as he slurped on his drink and sighed in bliss, and wondered what it would be like if he treated everyone the way he treated you.

You knew of his past and understood why his actions came from a place of hurt and nothing more. During these past few months, Flash helped you open your eyes and made you more understanding of people. Especially those who tried to cover up their pain by pushing others away in self-preservation, in fear of showing others who they truly were because they were afraid of being hurt, taken advantage of, or even worse, mocked for it.

At the simple gesture of getting him coffee, he seemed shocked that you even remembered his order, let alone got him something. Your empathetic side was much stronger than you thought it’d be, you realized, your heart aching for the misunderstood boy who stood in front of you.

“What?” Flash inquired with furrowed eyebrows, capturing the metal straw once more (because plastic ain’t it).

You were about to make a joke about how you were staring at him to process how ugly he was when Abe gleefully yelled, “Hey, it’s Peter!” And pointed ahead of him.

You swore your heart stopped for a moment, the voice in your head repeating the word ‘no'.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around in astonishment to find that, yes, it really was Peter, in the flesh.

And he’s asking to rejoin the team, but you were still caught up in his presence.

And how much you hated it.

Of course he showed up. Last fucking minute.

Boiling anger shot up to your throat and escaped through your mouth with a growl, “No, no way,” you walked towards him, eyes burning with rage as he backed up, “You can’t just quit, make a grand last minute entrance and be welcomed back.”

Of course, he was welcomed back by all but you and Flash, but that didn’t make a difference to anyone else no matter how many times you whined and objected.

“One more smart team member couldn’t hurt,” Mr. Harrington said.

And that’s how he ended up taking his seat about two rows behind yours, as you and Flash took your designated spots in the front. All the memories of him being Spider-Man fogged up your brain like you couldn’t see anything but him in the suit. It was infuriating how just him being there seemed to fuck with you.

What really pushed you to the edge was that you caught him looking at you. And not just stealing glimpses, no, you mean full-on gawking.

The audacity, you thought, exhaling loudly through your nose.

You found it hard to answer Liz’s training questions correctly. How could you? You were consciously aware of his presence, and consciously aware that he could be hearing your thundering heart if he concentrated enough.

Okay, so you may have done a little bit of research about him and watched a couple of his one minute interviews with reporters. None of them explained how he got said powers, but in one he told the interviewer all his senses were far, far more advanced than normal humans.

You wondered if he ever got a sensory overload.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ring of a bell and his answer that followed, his voice echoing in your head. When you answered incorrectly for the second time, you decided to give it a rest. You plugged in your earbuds, raised the volume as high as it would go, and wished you could tune out your thoughts like you did to the world.

You were already awake when you reached your destination. While the rest of the students were in awe of how big it was, you and Flash weren’t.

Once all rooms were assigned, Peter and Ned immediately dashed to theirs without waiting to hear Liz’s plans to "act rebellious as a group". Normally, that wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but now that you knew about Peter’s little secret, you were skeptical. They must be doing something related to Spider-Man.

You ignored the dull pain in your chest.

And as much as you wanted to find out, you were drained. Thinking had seemed to take up most of your energy, which was something you needed in order to win. So, you grabbed your spare key card to the room you shared with Sally Avril and searched the second floor for Room 249 together.

Sally and you weren’t exactly friends, but you talked a few times and said hello to each other via a nod when you passed each other in the hallways. She agreed to be your science partner for this quarter��s project, and you knew that she was incredibly bright for her age, so you didn’t mind rooming with her for a while.

When the both of you were out of breath and complaining about your backs aching from your heavy backpacks, you thankfully found your room.

And, what do you know? It was exactly across the fucking hall from Peter’s.

You annoyingly rolled your eyes and hastily swiped your card on the card reader, pushing the door with your foot and throwing your backpack onto the bed before flopping on it with a groan, your tiredness leaving you and allowing anger to fuel you instead.

“You okay?” Sally asked, always the sweetheart, shutting the door and placing her own backpack on the bed, taking her possessions out.

“Just peachy,” you sarcastically mumbled, your face squished between the pillows. You could only describe their scent as hotel rooms, but they were cool enough to help put out a little bit of the fire that you still had within you. You took a deep breath and pushed yourself up, leaning on your elbows, “I’m gonna go check the gym out.”

A while back, you learned how to manage your anger by using it to your advantage. The excess adrenaline helped pump your energy and allowed you to finish your workout faster, which in turn made you stronger and defused the storm within you. You took your gym clothes to the bathroom and changed before yelling out a goodbye to Sally and exiting your room.

As you shut the door behind you, you looked up in time to make eye contact with Peter, who stood behind his glass window and froze upon meeting your eyes. You scoffed and turned away, and he sighed and continued closing the curtains to his room, obstructing anyone from seeing him remove the tracker from his suit.

When the clock struck 10 pm, you heard a secret knock that meant Liz was here to take your asses to sneak into the pool as a group. You tiredly tied your robe around your body as Sally opened the door, squealing and giving Liz a hug. The group was buzzing with excitement, and you weren’t 100% sure of it, but you were certain this was the most rebellious thing they’ve ever done.

It was adorable how innocent they were.

While the students ran down the hall, you slowed your pace down to walk beside Flash, who waited for you at the end of the line they formed and handed you a snickers bar - your absolute favorite.

“Aw,” you cooed, finger tapping his nose, "Is this a thank you for the coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Flash scrunched his nose and flicked your hand away.

“What's up with you lately?” You asked, peeling away at the bar’s wrapper and taking a large bite, “You’ve been so touchy and caring. I mean, you’ve given me more hugs this week than you have in your entire life.”

Flash’s ears turned red as he pursed his lips and looked down at his bare feet, “I’m not being touchy.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a tilted head and cocked eyebrow. He sighed, “You almost died, Y/n,” he admitted with a small voice, tracing all your scars with his eyes, "I don’t know, I just...I don’t want to lose you, you know? It was scary.”

Your demeanor softened and you gave him a gentle smile. Flash wasn’t one to open up and express his feelings properly, but it warmed your heart that he tried to with you. You wrapped your arms around him once more, calmly rubbing his back, “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

He snorted and pulled back, jabbing your side and making you squeal, “Yeah, who wouldn’t?”

You jokingly pushed at his shoulders, “I could give you a fucking list.”

The two of you laughed in the hallway as you looked up to see that you were almost at Peter’s door, where he stood there talking to Liz alone. Or, more accurately, both of them exchanging love eyes that made them fumble with their words and made a visible blush rise to their cheeks.

You rolled your eyes with disgust and gagged in revulsion while your heart clenched so hard you had to put a hand on your chest to make sure it was still beating.

And boy, was it beating, all right.

Flash was quick to notice your actions and tried to get them to separate, cupping his hands over his mouth, “Yo, loser,” he called out, making Peter turn, “Stay here. I’m sure Iron-Man is gonna need your help rescuing kittens that are stuck on trees.”

You let out a chuckle and grabbed Liz by her arm when you got close enough, “Come on, don’t waste your time with him. He’s got civil duties to get to.” You threw a deadly glance at him and dragged Liz with you to the pool, failing to notice Peter’s crest-fallen face.

Who cares about him, though? You were here to win a competition and get the trophy - maybe that’ll prove to your dad that you’re worth something, and if that fails, it’s still pretty cool to have accomplished something.

You ended up teaming up with Abe and successfully pushing Flash into the pool, high-fiving Abe before he canon-balled in himself. You giggled, watching your teammates gesture you to come in, but you shook your head and took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. Just come in for a minute.”

“I’m not a swimmer, Flash. I’ll be here, just not in there.”

Your body was aching from the lack of sleep and constant moving around. Plus, you really weren’t much of a swimmer. You quietly took a seat beside MJ as she read a book you once read as well, the chair making a screeching sound that made you cringe and alerted MJ of your presence.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, flipping to the next page and reading on, but somehow she saw you throw a glance at her.

“Nah,” you crossed your arms and leaned back, watching as Liz got splashed with water by both Cindy and Abe, who then proceeded to dunk Flash’s head in the water and high-fived, “just recognized the book, s’all.”

She hummed and nodded, and you saw her peek up at you from the corner of your eye, “Good taste. I’d like you if you weren’t a bully.”

“Guess you’ll never like me, then.” You replied, monotony lacing your voice, immediately putting an end to the conversation that was only beginning to bloom. You knew she was going to transform it into another ‘what you’re doing isn’t right’ lecture, but you’ve heard enough of it from Jane.

A tense silence settled between you two as her words settled in your mind. A bully. That’s exactly what you were seen as. You guessed people don’t exactly see what caused the change in behavior, but they see the change itself.

You placed the back of your head against the concrete wall and stared up, looking through the built in glass that allowed the moon’s light to bleed into the pool, fully brightening it up until the shadow of a figure covered the view. Him.

Him clad in his latex suit with a backpack on, hands holding the mask that would hide his identity from the rest of the world.

You saw him staring at her.

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, where it seemed to only cause a burning sensation - jealousy. You were looking at him while he was too busy looking at someone else, and that seemed to have followed you your entire life, even when you weren’t friends.

You gulped and turned away before you ever saw his line of vision move over to you, wondering and wondering.

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

The next morning, you stood in front of Flash’s room with your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can’t do this, Y/n,” He said, rubbing his forehead. His shoulders were rising and falling at a quick pace beneath your palms as he took shallow breaths, nerves practically spewing out of him.

Who knew Flash was a worry wort?

“Okay, Flash, listen to me,” you grabbed his face and tilted it towards you so you could look him in the eye, “This competition is just a competition. It doesn’t prove your worth to anyone.” That’s not what you thought of yesterday, "Your grades and results don’t determine how smart you are, all right? They’re just numbers and letters, and those don’t make up who you are. And besides,” you gestured to the group of people that were across the hall knocking on Peter and Ned’s door, “if you’re so worried, we’ve got a whole bunch of smart-asses who’ll make up for your stupidity.”

You gave him a teasing smile and relaxed when he shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’ve got this, Eugene.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head in affirmation, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got this."

“Attaboy! That’s the spirit!” You said, punching him in the shoulder and laughing when he held his arm in pain.

The concoction from the other side of the hall seemed to have risen above your laughter, making you and Flash exchange a look before running over.

“What’s going on?” Flash asked, causing everyone to turn.

“The boys won’t come out, and if they don’t we’ll be late,” Liz answered, checking the watch on her wrist and tugging the ends of her ponytail stressfully.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and elbowing your way through the crowd until you reached the door.

“Ned! Parker! Get the fuck out of this room or so help me God I will fucking break the door down!” You yelled, repeatedly slamming your fist on the door as it shook from the force.

To your surprise, the door immediately swung back to reveal a sweaty Ned and a missing Peter. Before he was going to say something, you asked, “Where is he?”

Ned stood there like a gaping fish, opening and closing his mouth with broken words falling out, “He..uh, he..won’t be able to make it?”

“He left?”

Ned took a shaky breath in and toyed with the hem of his shirt, “M-maybe..”

Typical Peter. Running away when he was needed.

“Of course he did,” you pinched the bridge of your nose then turned to Liz, “we’re just gonna have to leave without him.” You shrugged, watching as Liz’s shoulders deflated.

She looked mad, worried, and at the same time disappointed. You guessed it had something to do with whatever they were talking about yesterday.

You also guessed he left due to something that had to do with Spider-Man, but you didn’t have enough evidence to prove it to yourself. Regardless of how you wanted to feel, you started getting rather distressed. You wondered if he left after seeing you guys in the pool, where he was, if he was all right, why he hasn’t come back - all questions that could be answered by Ned, you realized. But you didn’t want to risk it.

So, you made your way to the competition with murmuring nerves and trembling hands. You blamed it on the competition, but you knew deep down that it was Peter’s absence that was troubling you.

Either way, you thanked God for MJ’s intelligence that won you the competition.

Hugs were being exchanged all around and pride flowed between your teammates as a golden trophy was handed to your team.

To celebrate, you made your way to the Washington Monument, where you’d be given a boring tour and promised an 'unforgettable view.’ However, there was a tugging feeling in your stomach as Flash asked Mr. Harrington if he could tell Peter that he was expelled. He still hasn’t shown up. Your mind raced with possibilities, and only got worse as the monument's elevator ascended.

Until it abruptly stopped and aggressively shook in its place, causing panic to spread among your group as dust fell upon everyone from the hole that seemed to have appeared above you, covering you from head to toe. Smoke began to fill the elevator’s confined space and-

And this was starting to feel like Delmar’s all over again.

You were frightened, hands shaking and tears welling up in your eyes as oxygen barely made its way into your lungs only to come out again. Your eyes were glued to the hole in the elevator’s roof, as if it’d somehow close up again if you stared at it long enough. It felt as if you were looking at the inside of one’s body - it was a sight you were never meant to see, and now, here you were, seeing it. You saw the wires and pulleys that kept the elevator in its place, and you couldn’t describe how wrong it was.

“Okay, guys, I know that was scary but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” The lady assured in the most tedious way possible. It was like you weren’t about to meet death himself. Like everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

“No, lady! No, we’re clearly not!” You yelled as you collapsed to the floor, clutching your head and rocking back and forth.

“Okay, Y/n, breathe, breathe.” Mr. Harrington crouched down to your level, inhaling and exhaling slowly as if that’d help you. You could hardly focus on anything but the fact that you felt like you were going to die.

Death seemed to chase you wherever you went, like you were cursed, and now these people were going to go down with you, with no superhero to come swooping in because you didn’t know where he was.

Oh my God, why is this happening?

Flash hastily looked around and pointed to a small opening on the side of the elevator, “We can open that! We can open that and get out through there!” He said, and the others got to work right away.

Ned carried the lady on his shoulders as she successfully pushed it open, allowing new air to come through, the group taking a large, collective inhale. Flash kneeled down beside you, and rubbed your back, promising you everything will be okay, which calmed you down enough to stand up.

You were still scared, hands were still shaking, but you knew you had to put others before you. So you concealed them from everyone’s view, and helped your teammates safely climb out to where a group of security guys was waiting to pull them out.

Cindy went up first, then Abe, Sally, and the dude with glasses you could never remember the name of, until you, Flash, Mr. Harrington, Liz, and Ned remained.

They all suggested you go first, but you refused and told them you’d be fine with assisting them. Flash was up next.

The minute he jumped off the elevator’s surface to grab ahold of the security guard’s hand, the wires which held the elevator in its place snapped and you began your fast descend, screaming into oblivion as your heart rattled inside your ribcage.

A strong force stopped the elevator from falling further for a second before it started falling again, not giving you enough time to catch your breath. It hit a large metal ground, hard, and that seemed to stop it and made you fall on your knees and bust the rest of the glass.

You breathed harshly, thinking it was over, basking in sweet relief until Spider-Man fell from the hole into the elevator and pushed it down even further, prompting the elevator to plunge at an even faster rate, and both Liz and Ned to let out an ear-deafening scream that made its way to your stomach, twisting and turning it while your knuckles turned white from the death grip you had on the railing.

There's your second chance at death, because apparently, one time wasn’t enough.

With his quick thinking, though, Spider-Man raised his arm and shot his web to the ceiling of the building, holding on as he planted his legs on the corner of the elevator, and pulling as it hung in the air.

He looked around the elevator, pausing for a second on your curled up body, before clearing his throat, “Hey, how you doin’?” He said, thickening his New York accent, “don’t worry about it, I got you.”

Ned - like he wasn’t about to fucking die - began fangirling over his best friend as he yelled out multiple 'yes's and bounced up and down, making the elevator’s wheels creak, threatening to fall once again.

"Hey, hey, hey, big guy! Quit movin’ around!” Spider-Man scolded Ned, his voice returning back to normal as he tugged on the web to slowly pull the lift up.

Your insides were still flipped and in all the wrong places, mind frozen as you sat on the ground, still rattled, with tears pushing hard against your waterline. Your breathing was loud and labored, which caught Liz’s attention.

“Hey,” she sat down beside you, voice husky, still half dazed herself, “we’re gonna be okay.” She said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself with her words, "We’re safe now.”

She paused for a moment, "I know what happened to you at Delmar’s-“ You saw Spider-Man’s head swerve towards the both of you for a second as you inhaled sharply. “-but you’re okay. We’re all going to be fine.”

You tilted your head towards her, tracing over her messed up hair and flushed cheeks, dirt painting her face but a small, hopeful smile sat on her lips. You managed to give her a nod and a squeeze of her hand in acknowledgment. Though it did nothing to calm you down, you were still grateful for her sincerity and effort in trying to do so.

“All right, everyone out.” Spider-Man demanded once you reached the level where the security guards were waiting. His grunting made it sound like he didn’t have as much time as he needed, and every person made their way out slowly but carefully.

You shakily stood on your legs, waiting for everyone to get out and counting down until it was your turn. Three, Ned was out first. Two, Mr. Harrington made it to the other side. One, Liz was safely out as she looked back at you and stretched her arm, palm open and awaiting your own.

You quickly skidded across the floor, and just as your skin touched hers, the web broke into two with a splick sound.

And for the next second you were falling to your death, all on your own.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

Tags: @peachescream06

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #y/n #marvel #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst

93 notes · View notes

kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief.

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you’ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close.

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present.

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm.

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details.

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence.

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V.

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach.

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room.

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs.

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression.

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up.

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,”

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire.

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same.

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in less than thirty-minutes.

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag.

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee.

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files.

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship.

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement.

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment.

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response.

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,”

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It’s hard when we argue

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss.

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch.

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear.

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully.

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone.

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below.

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags.

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him.

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce.

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,”

“Two nights?” he complains.

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind.

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair.

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—”

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her.

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath.

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport.

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?”

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row.

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani.

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her.

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window.

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit.

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor.

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony.

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead.

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend.

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass.

“S’it gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,”

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl.

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group.

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated.

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat.

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet.

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain.

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,”

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort.

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder.

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would.

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being.

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California.

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry.

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo.

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it.

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently.

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end.

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can’t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil.

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

“I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over.

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly.

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours.

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder.

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never.

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out.

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

“I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp.

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye.

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t.

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing.

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm.

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor.

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?”

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently.

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her.

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back.

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes.

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat.

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose.

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses.

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

“If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either.

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls.

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #ybmh #sorry besties <3

30 notes · View notes

heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates (Bryce Lahela x MC)

Summary: A surprise leads to a major shift in Bryce and Casey’s relationship

A/N: Eeeek, this is my first time ever writing a Bryce x MC fic! The day you guys see me writing something not Ethan centric is the day you should play the lotto because it’s more rare than a unicorn sighting.

Anywho....please enjoy!

Tags: @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @maurine07 @badchoicesposts @ermidc @sundaescreamcheese @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @gogotomago95 @have-aheart @aworldoffandoms @zaffrenotes @anotherbeingsworld @to-fangirl-or-not-to-fangirl @nazariolahela @the-unconquered-queen @writinghereandthere @omgjasminesimone @parkerattano @silent-storms-posts

~v~

“Okay, are we going out to lunch?” Casey asks, twisting her fingers into her skirt. From the passenger seat of Bryce’s car, the bustling streets of Boston fly past her. A tendril of her curly hair whips around in the wind, settling on her lip as it sticks to her tacky lip gloss. Bryce is a freaking speed demon and drives too fast for her liking.

But she does like looking at him when he’s behind the wheel. His grip on the wheel is relaxed, much like his posture, slouched low in the seat, right hand drumming against the gear shift. While it’s still winter, the sun is shining brightly, making the highlights in his hair and the light dusting of freckles adorning his nose stand out. Her boyfriend—even thinking that word makes her giddy—makes a pretty sight to behold.

“No, that’s not the plan. But we can go get food once we’re done,” Bryce answers..

“Ice skating?” Casey guesses. She watches as he shakes his head. “But ice skating sounds so fun.”

“We can go ice skating some other time, Case.”

“We’re going to the movies?”

Bryce chuckles. She’s been trying to guess all morning what he has planned for the day, and despite getting every single guess wrong, Casey comes up with another one at the drop of a hat. The persistence is admirable. “You’ll find out soon enough. Stop being so nosy.”

Casey pouts, feigning hurt. “I resent that! I prefer to be called naturally inquisitive. It makes me sound smart.”

“You’re nosy,” Bryce deadpans. “But don’t fret, we’ll be there in like, 5 minutes tops.”

He’s been excited from the moment he told her to get dressed, and Casey can see that his leg is bouncing up and down underneath the steering wheel. Whatever he has planned, he’s really excited about it, so Casey decided to keep quiet and enjoy the rest of the ride.

They enjoy the rest of the short ride, Casey scrolling through Bryce’s different Spotify playlists until she settles on the perfect song, but he’s pulling in and parking his car before she can even hit play.

An apartment complex was not what she was expecting to see. It’s a very nice apartment complex, located a few blocks away from Boston University. Casey can see the college students milling around, some adults walking their dogs, a few older more established couples, some with kids, some without going in and out of the building.

Now her curiosity is piqued. Is Bryce dragging her along to some surgeon friend’s apartment? Is this his idea of a Saturday adventure? Granted, he never promised her an adventure, just a surprise, and while she likes most of his surgical cohort, she’d rather be doing something else. Nonetheless, Casey doesn’t say anything, letting Bryce intertwine their fingers and lead her through the building.

They ride up the elevator in silence until they reach the 4th floor. It isn’t until Bryce reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key do the alarms go off on her brain. “Bryce? Did you–”

“I got a new apartment!” Bryce exclaims, cutting her off. “Surprise!”

Once the door is open, he’s pulling her in, his excitement palpable. Casey looks around the place. It’s unfurnished, the hardwood floors beneath them bright and freshly waxed. And even though she hasn’t looked around, she can already tell it’s much larger than his current 1 bedroom.

“Oh...wow,” is all that manages to come out of her mouth.

“I know! It’s in Keiki’s school district, thank god. And it’s a brand new unit, all stainless steel appliances, marble and quartz countertops, which are apparently huge deals when you’re apartment hunting. In-unit washer and dryer, walk-in closets, there’s a gym and a pool downstairs, a game room–”

Casey watches him as his animatedly rattles off all of the features in the apartment. His face is flush, pink with excitement, his words are breathless and tumbling out of his mouth all at once. She takes a step forward, cupping his face between both hands. “Bryce, I think you should stop and breathe.”

The command makes him flush hard, now from embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You can continue now.”

“That was pretty much it. The main draw is that it’s a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment, so I don’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Now Keiki and I will each have our own space. Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Will the 15 year old girl like having her own room, and not having to share a bathroom with her older brother?” Casey nods. “Absolutely. Keiki is a lucky duck.” She takes a few steps further into the apartment, silently appraising it. It’s beautiful from what she can see, and she hasn’t even seen the bedrooms. “Question: how are you affording this place? You’re a surgical resident, living in Boston is expensive, and I’m pretty sure Sallie Mae is eating most of your paychecks.”

Bryce looks down at his feet, shuffling them back and forth much to Casey’s dismay. He’s going to scuff the floors doing that. “I uh...I talked to my parents.”

“When?”

“A little over a month ago, before I enrolled Keiki in school. I called my parents and gave them quite the earful about not contacting Keiki once since she’s been in Boston, and I kinda let them have it. Turns out I’ve been holding in a lot of pent up...stuff regarding my parents.”

Casey’s eyes soften at his confession. They hardly ever have conversations about his parents, and when they do, it’s never good. “You want to talk about it?”

Bryce shakes his head, memories of that conversation trying to bubble to the surface. His mother tried her hand at making awkward small talk as if they hadn’t gone years without talking, while his father said nothing at all. He bites the inside of his cheek, willing the bad memory to go away. Negative thoughts of his parents don’t need to invade this space. “Nah, it’s not important.”

Resisting the urge to call bullshit, Casey simply nods. “Agree to disagree, Bry. But we’ll table it for now and just continue your story.”

He’s grateful that she’s willing to listen, but not pushy enough to force him to talk, leaving the ball in his court. “Long story short, I told them that Keiki is welcome to stay with me in Boston and I wouldn’t make it public news that they all but abandoned their daughter and drag social services into things, if they allowed me to be her legal caregiver.”

“Really?”

“Yup. So I can be in charge of her education and medical decisions while she’s out here. It’s less permanent than me filing her guardianship, and my parents still legally have rights, but it makes things easier. And because of that, my parents are giving me a pretty generous monthly allowance for all of her expenses. Housing, food, school supplies, the works.”

“So child support?”

“Pretty much, yes. I didn’t ask for it, but the Lahelas like to throw money at their problems. Some of that money goes towards the rent here, the rest I put in a savings account for Keiki. I’ll gift her the money when she starts college, so she’ll have a bit of a nest egg, and won’t be dependent on ramen noodles and the McDermot’s dollar menu like I was.”

Bryce shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Casey, trying to gauge her reaction. “I know I dumped a lot on you, and you probably think I’m insane for taking all of this on but–”

Casey wraps her arms around his waist and cuts him off with a quick kiss. “If I could look at you with literal heart eyes right now, I would.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She leans forward, resting her head against the solid expanse of his chest. The faint scent of his laundry detergent and his cologne invade her senses, and she relishes in it. He smells like comfort, if there was ever such a thing. “I can’t believe you accomplished all of this in such a short period of time.”

“Well my lease was up, and I was trying to get Keiki situated in school, and it all sort of fell into place at the right time.”

“Stop trying to downplay it,” Casey orders. “You are strong, and brave, and you take initiative in any situation. I don’t know too many 27 year olds that would spring into action and volunteer to raise their teenage sisters, all while being a resident and trying to juggle their own personal life.”

The way she says it, the awe and idolatry in her voice makes his stomach flip. Bryce considers himself to be a pretty self-assured guy. He has a healthy level of self esteem, but something about Casey praising him always causes him to short circuit, without fail. “You make it sound so much cooler than it really is.”

“It is cool,” Carey argues. “You’re doing a noble thing, so let me give you compliments you deserve.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes immediately, the bashfulness still holding him tight. Eventually, Bryce looks up at her, her expression open and earnest. “You make me sound so much better than I really am.”

Casey grabs hold of his sweater and tugs him closer, forcing him to crane forward and be at her eye level. “Mhmm, it’s a hidden talent of mine. I happen to be an excellent salesperson.”

Bryce smirks, their lips barely brushing against each other, and mumbles “You’re such a dork,” before capturing her in a kiss. Casey responds instantly, matching his eagerness and fervor. It doesn’t take long for things to get more heated, his tongue slipping into her mouth, hands going to grip her waist.

She breaks to kiss to inhale sharply. “You’ve lived here for 5 minutes and you’re already trying to defile the place.”

“Can’t help it. You make me feel like a horny teenager again, baby.”

“Well stop it.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“Come on loverboy, show me around. Give me the grand tour.”

They wander around the apartment at a leisurely pace, Casey pointing out all of the different things Bryce could buy to furnish the place—“What do you mean you’ve never gone to Home Goods?”—and admonishing his idea to shop on Craigslist. He’s an adult, not a college freshman, and his home should reflect that.

“You want to know what the best part is?” Bryce asks, leading Casey back to their starting point, the living room.

“What?”

“Keiki’s bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, separated by a pretty sizable living room.”

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and she shoves at his chest, laughing. “And? Are you trying to say something?”

“Yeah, that one of us—you—can be pretty loud at times.”

Her cheeks heat up and she blushes furiously. “Well I’ll make sure to keep it quiet on the nights that I sleep over.”

“What if you didn’t just spend the night over here?”

He instantly regrets the way he phrased that sentence because it sounds like he just told her he doesn’t want her in his apartment. Casey frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry! That sounded weird.” He flushes, stumbling over his words. Something about Casey Valentine makes him very nervous. “That’s not what I meant, I promise.”

Bryce grabs both of Casey’s hands, holding them close to his chest. “Move in with me.”

Her eyes widen at the suggestion. He wants to do what? “What?”

“I spent all of last year tiptoeing around our relationship, trying to keep things light and breezy when I really didn’t want that. And it took you being in that...horrible accent for me to finally reveal the full extent of my feelings for you. Now that we’re together and official, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

“I would like to go to sleep with you every night, your ice cold feet pressed against my legs, and your curly hair tickling my nose because you’ve invaded my side of the bed. And I want to wake up to you every morning, because even though you think you look crazy in the morning, I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I want us to cook together every day, or just you because you’re a much better cook than I am.” Casey giggles at his jokes, which only spur him on further. “Besides Keiki, you’re the most important person I have, and I want you here with me, permanently.”

When Casey doesn’t say anything immediately, Bryce understands. He just dropped a bomb—a few bombs actually—right at her feet, she needs time to process. But the silence stretches until it grows into something long and uncomfortable, and a thin sheen of sweat forms at Bryce’s hairline. Did he just shoot himself in the foot? Did he seriously overestimate her feelings for him, and the nature of their relationship?

Before he can open his mouth to renege on the invitation, Casey speaks. “We’re going to have to talk to your landlord, or the property manager, because a new lease needs to be drawn up.”

“W-what?”

“I mean, I assume it’s just you and Keiki listed on the lease, and I don’t want to just be a permanent guest staying in your apartment. I want it to be our apartment, so I need to be on the lease agreement,” Casey explains. “And I know you said your parents cover most of the rent on this place, but I want to contribute, so I guess I’ll be in charge of the–”

She doesn’t get to finish talking because Bryce is on her in an instant, his mouth crashing into hers in a fiery kiss. His fingers dig into her hips, walking her backwards until her back bumps into the kitchen island. In a quick show of strength, Bryce lifts her onto the island, and Casey has to break the kiss to hiss.

“Shit, that’s cold!”

“Sorry baby.” He’s not the least bit sorry, flashing her his signature smirk. “I’ll warm you up.”

“And you say I’m the dorky one,” Casey teases, laughing as Bryce kisses her between each word.

“You are,” he insists, kissing down her neck. She squirms away from him as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot, but he holds her in place. “We bring that out in each other.”

He kisses her a few more times, some softer than others, some so deep, she feels dizzy when he pulls away.

“We’re really going to do this?” Casey asks rhetorically. “This whole living together thing?”

“We are. I asked, and you said yes, so you’re stuck with me, little lady.”

There’s a smile on his face, so huge, Casey really thinks he might blind her with his pearly white teeth. She hasn’t seen him this relaxed, this unabashedly happy in a while. She can’t help but to smile back.

“You have to let me have creative control on furniture and decorations though.”

“This apartment is going to look like a furniture store magazine spread.”

Casey nods. “It’ll smell like the inside of a Bath & Body Works store in here, too.”

“You’re going to go crazy on the candles, aren’t you?”

“Oh absolutely. They also have cute wall plug-ins.”

Bryce laughs. “I don’t care. You and Keiki can do whatever you want to the place.”

“Mhmm, now you’re talking my language, Lahela.”

They talk excitedly, basking in the fun that this new journey is going to bring their relationship. They don’t know how much time has passed when the conversation finally dwindles down.

“Hey, Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you let me down from here?” Casey asks, gesturing to the countertop. Bryce has her caged in, arms on either side of her. “Despite your best efforts to warm me up with a make-out session, this thing is freezing cold.”

“No one told you to wear a mini skirt like this in winter, you naughty school girl.”

“I resent that! This skirt is very cute, and it would’ve looked even cuter had you taken me ice skating.”

Bryce rolls his eyes. He’s gonna have to take this girl to the ice skating rink, and soon. He trails his hands up and down her legs, taking in all the goosebumps that have popped up on her smooth skin.

“You want to know where this skirt would look even better?”

“Where?”

Gripping the backs of her thighs, Bryce lifts Casey off of the countertop and into his arms. “The floor of our new bedroom.”

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #bryce lahela #dr. bryce lahela #bryce x mc

157 notes · View notes

blizzardfluffykpop · 3 years

Text

Success

Summary: You set up different students together on dates. What happens when your crush wants to be set up, as well?

Oneshot full of fluff and mutual pining!

Word Count: 1,619

Mingyu X Reader [Wonwoo, Jun, and Nayeon Mention]

Not Requested

Prompt: 12. Playing Holiday matchmaker basically having a stand like Sally from the Peanuts--

It was October twenty-first when I decided to play matchmaker. Wanting everyone to have someone to hold during the holidays and make a quick buck. Sure, I could have done a kissing booth, but getting Mono does not sound fun. It took two days to set up my stand outside of the school building. “(Y/n)’s Matchmaking Magic” painted in white in front of a pink heart on a yellow stand. Wanting to attract everyone at my school to come over to my stand.

Day one went smoothly, with quite a few people picking up applications. Day two the same with a few people handing theirs in. Day three and four dragged by, I had one or two visitors, and neither picked up or dropped off an application. Both of those days, I was comparing matches, seeing who has the best compatibility. The fifth day at lunch I called over a promising looking couple. Telling them the arrangements I made, and they both seemed happy.

After the weekend, I came back to my stand during lunch. To see both of them standing in front with matching gleaming smiles. They tell me about how well their date went. How much they appreciated my work that they recommended me to all their friends. My heart swelled at the compliments, and I told them how happy I was to see it worked out for them.

I had a major influx that week, more people picking up and dropping off their applications. It got to the point where I ran out on Thursday. I could not believe my eyes, I had made two hundred copies, and I ran out. But that didn’t stop people from coming over. Telling me what their personality was like and what they are looking for in someone. As I wrote everything down in my notebook, hoping to catch every last detail.

Before I could head to the printer, there was one last person that walked up to my stand; someone who I didn’t expect or want to come to my stand. Not because I hated their guts, no quite the opposite. You see, I have been harboring the biggest crush on Kim Mingyu since I first laid eyes on him in eighth grade. I’m a senior in high school now, so if that gives you any indicator,...

“I heard you ran out of applications,” I nod, “Would you mind if I apply anyway?” I shake my head 'yes', “Go right ahead, I’ll write it in my notebook.” He describes himself as tall, clumsy, and a puppy. I couldn’t agree more, and he continues explaining that he sucks at math. I want to snicker and tell him I could help him out. But I resist, and he tells me what he’s looking for in someone. Someone bright, kind, easy-going, and hopefully good at math. My brain couldn’t stop going, ‘One plus one makes two, say you’re his type!' Having to physically fight my brain was not on my agenda today, but it may be the front line page of tomorrow's news. I look up at him, “Any interests you would want in common?” He nods, “Someone who loves music and basketball.” All I can hear is my brain go, ‘Check, check, and check. Any more qualifications? I bet I can meet them.’ I smile at him, and I ask him if there is anything else. He shakes his head and says, “Thank you, (Y/n), I appreciate it. I know you can find the perfect match.” If it wasn’t for my name being on the stand, my heart would be beating out of its chest.

I tell him it’s no problem and I’ll make sure he has a date for the holidays. He smiles, and with that, he walks away, and I walk to the office to print out more applications. Why did he of all people have to come to my stand? I fight with my brain to erase his beautiful smile from my mind. It’s not like I haven’t talked to him before, rather I’ve been his partner in math more than half of the time. Always helping him out as he makes me laugh about the simplest of problems. Why is he good-looking, funny, and kind? I shake my head ignoring these thoughts as I collect the applications and set them back on my stand. I set my arms on the plywood and sort through all the applications, and make pairs. Setting different people up for dates; when I notice someone who matches Mingyu’s type perfectly. I sigh and place their papers together. You can’t always get what you want is what that one Rolling Stones song says.

On Friday, I call people over to my stand and tell them who I set them up with. When to arrive and what to wear. This part has to be the most fun up until I reach Mingyu and his soon-to-be-partner. I sigh and call him over, and his eyes are bright with a million stars, and has a cute smile playing on his lips. I shake my head of those thoughts as Wonwoo joins us. “Okay, so I set you guys up for Sunday at the Stone Cafe at 10? What do you think?” Wonwoo smiles over at Mingyu and Mingyu smiles back at him. They nod and I tell them specifics, and when Mingyu walks away. Wonwoo stays behind and asks, “What do I wear?” I smile knowing Mingyu pretty well, “Anything that looks nice. Mingyu is going to like whatever you wear.” He smiles and thanks me since I calmed his nerves down.

I go to the restroom and lean my head against the stall door. Ugh, why did I do this to myself? I could have set myself up with him. At least they will be happy together if Mingyu is happy then I am. I look through the few remaining applicants. Man, I need a date, I think to myself as I settle on the last few pairs.

Monday comes around, and Wonwoo approaches my stand. He scratches the back of his neck, and I ask, “Did it go well?” He kind of grimaces, “Oh no, what happened.” He sighs, “It was on accident, but he spilled his pop all over me, and I was wondering if you had anyone else in that pile.” I wish to sigh in relief as I go through a few, “Well, I have two options for you, Nayeon or Junhui?” He looks over both applications and tells me Nayeon. I nod and tell him I’ll make the arrangements later today.

Twenty minutes later, and Mingyu is telling me his date did not go well. How he spilled pop all over Wonwoo’s cashmere sweater and that he felt so embarrassed he paid for the whole meal and left. Jeez, no wonder Wonwoo wanted to go out with someone else. Although Mingyu is such a cute and sweet mess that I wouldn’t mind it. I have three more applications sitting in my lap, and I go over each, and he decides on Junhui. I agree wishing him better luck; instead of leaving, he asks me. “Have you set yourself up with anyone yet?” I shake my head, ‘no’, “I never got around to it.” He nods, “Well, since you listen to how everyone’s dates go. How about I return the favor when you go out with someone.” I thank him and wish to tell him that I want to go out with him and no one else. But the cowardly lion covers my mouth with its paw. He smiles and waves me goodbye, and my heart longs for him to stay.

Mingyu has yet come to see me, and it’s been a week since his date with Junhui. I guess it went pretty well, feeling proud and sad at the same time. I didn’t even know I could feel both of those emotions at the same time. Business went as usual when I noticed I haven’t seen Junhui since he dropped off his application either. I knew he was kind of shy, but he seemed so friendly. I mark on my calendar another arrangement. Nayeon told me how well her date with Wonwoo went. That he even asked her to be his, and I couldn’t help but share her excitement. Nearly everyone I have set up has been happy with my choices.

That’s when Mingyu comes over, “Hey,...” I dread his tone already knowing it didn’t go well. “How did it go, Mingyu?” He pouts, “Not well,...” I pout back, “Why’s that?” He sighs, “I told them the truth.” I tilt my head to the side, “The only reason I came over to your stand was so I could spend time with you,...” I furrow my brows at his statement, “Okay, but what does this have to do with the dates?” He sighs, “Everything,... I would like to go on a date with you instead.” He scratches the back of his neck, and my jaw hits the floor. Kim Mingyu wants to go out on a date with me? My heart nearly goes into cardiac arrest. I smile at him and say, “I’m free Friday.” He smiles and says, “6 pm?” I nod and ask, “Stone Cafe?” He shakes his head, ‘no’, “Let me surprise you.” I shrug and agree when he leaves, I can’t catch the little ‘yes’ that escapes my throat.

Jun comes over later, and I hook him up with Minghao, the only other applicant I have left. He agrees, and needless to say, everyone that got paired up at this stand has been a success. But you try sometimes, you find, you get what you need.

64 notes · View notes

pernicious-pastas · 3 years

Text

Villain, Chapter Two

Pairings - Masky/Tim x You

Word count - 1260 words

Chapter Summary - Tim, Brian, and Y/n walk through the forest to get back to their shared cabin used after missions. Y/n and Brian chit-chat before a more serious conversation after a few rounds of adult juice. (Alternate Title: Was Tim listening to the convo in the woods?)

Warnings for chapter - Language, drinking, mutual conflict between Tim and y/n.

Notes - Pastas mentioned are Toby, Sally, clockwork (Natalie), and Jaime! Jaime is an oc of mine which you can look at here: XXX. Please note the y/n is over 21 and can legally drink. Also i’m working on starting an AO3, so look out for that linked in the next chapter :D

Previous Chapter: XXX

___

Calling the walk back through the woods a “terrible fucking idea” would be an understatement. Never understanding why those two hard-asses didn’t just steal a car or two will always be in the forefront of your mind when finishing a mission. But hey, at least you had Brian to keep you occupied during your walks.

“Can’t we just make a portal to the cabin and call it a day?” You groaned, shuddering against the freezing wind that danced around you. Brian’s footsteps walked next to yours in the almost frozen ground around you. “Unfortunately for us, we lost the ability to make portals when Jeffery started making portals from his bedroom to the communal kitchen,” he said, his voice was gruff and clear when not muffed by his voice changer. You chuckled a bit before your expression soured, remembering what Jeff’s actions cost your tiring legs. Brian noticed your slight change in demeanor and decided to change the topic to distract your mind. “Hey, I’m sure we’re close. And I've been meaning to talk to you about something, Well two things.”

Your face puzzled before you gave him a reassuring look, letting him go on. He turned back to look at Tim to gauge if he'd be able to hear the conversation in question, after a few seconds Brian turned to you again, lowering his voice. “Do you ever wish you never accepted Slender’s offer? Like, do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if you said no, or if you never got wrapped up in this in the first place?” You paused and thought for a second before giving him your answer, you never really thought about that before.

“Honestly? I’d probably still be stuck in my hometown. I think I’m glad I took this job in a way. Although the cons definitely outweigh the pros most of the time.” You chuckled, thinking back on your home life before stopping yourself, knowing the pain it would bring you. Your life before becoming a proxy wasn’t all that glamorous, but thinking about the people you left behind and what you could've been always left an indecent taste in your mouth.

“Cons?” Brian quizzed, hoping for an elaboration. You sighed and watched the breath turn into fog in front of you. “Well y’know, if I knew I would have interacted with some unsavory people I don’t think I’d take the job.” You joked. Hopefully, Tim didn’t hear that. You sunk into your jacket, hoping to bring a little more warmth to you. “Speaking about a certain unsavory coworker of ours,” You turned to peak at Tim for a final time before continuing. It looks like he wasn’t paying attention and was too far behind to even hear anyway, so you let yourself go on. “Has Tim always been this mean to previous co-workers? Like, that Toby guy that’s been on that year’s long mission, was Tim a dick to him?” You sighed, you didn’t know why this bothered you, But the tension continues to fuck with you nonetheless.

Brian stops for a quick rest, and you follow suit. “I guess he's always been kinda brash to people he doesn’t know, but never this bad and for this long.” He said. Your thoughts filled up the silence that had settled between you two. You’ve been here for, what? Almost three years and Tim still couldn’t get a grasp on the fact that he had to work with you. You huffed in annoyance. Brian watched you and decided to speak up again. “Why does it even bother you if you hate him the exact same?” You spit on the forest ground and glared at Tim, even though he probably couldn’t hear a damn thing you said. “It doesn’t.”

*time skip to the later in the cabin*

“Brian… We’re friends, right?” You asked, a drunken tint flushed your cheeks as you spoke. The scenery was nice, two pals sharing drinks around a lit fire. The sun was long gone by now, the fire contrasted the harsh night air as it enveloped you in warmth- Something you could get behind in your hazy state.

He thought for a moment before taking a swig from his bottle and turning to face you. “I’d think so, We’d practically have to be if we’re working in this type of occupation. The more people to keep you sane, the better.” You nodded your head while he continued. “This kinda loops back to what I wanted to talk to you about a couple of hours ago. Well, before we started talking about Tim.” He said, you thought back about your previous conversations and eventually pinpointed it to the walk in the woods. “About our pasts and junk?” You asked. He kicked off the dirt from his boot into the blasting fire. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually, I’ve been so focused on being the Always-in-Line, harsh, perfect proxy that I’ve almost forgotten myself.” You slowly nodded your head. Hey, you kind of felt the same in a sense. You cringed thinking back to your previous memories.

“I don’t know Brian, the Boss always enforces that we push away the past and focus on our new responsibility at hand,” You paused. “Still, I get it. The tapes bothering you again?” He nodded before you heard a loud whack of a door slamming into the cabin’s exterior walls. You slowly shifted your eyes to the cause of the noise, and they settled on Tim. You shifted in your chair in fake-annoyance. Too drunk to care if he was with you two or not. “The past is the past, Hoodie. Get over it.” Tim scowled at the two of you before lighting a cigarette. Tim walked over to the burning fire and crouched, He sucked in while he studied the flames, His eyes almost matched the fires bellowing rage before he closes them, blowing out his smoke into the already roaring fire. What a fucking weirdo, you thought.

“Evening, Masky.” Brian said. his boot still on the fireplace’s edge, almost directly across Tim’s face. Tim got up and took another drag and turned to you. “Now I’ve been wondering Y/n, how far you would go with a little booze in you.” Tim condescended, a smirk on his face and he eyed you. You rolled your eyes and got up, “Enough of the bullshit, Tim. You wanna be an asshole? Fine by me. I’m done with whatever game you’ve been trying to make me play.” You stormed into the house, your outburst leaving both the men in silence.

As you less-than-gracefully wobbled to your dark room. You undressed and changed into comfy clothing before retreating under your covers. Memories hung up on the walls around you. Pictures of you and your killer friends smiled down at you, the handmade bracelets Sally had gifted you sat on your nightstand. Dirty band tees Natalie and Jaime had once fondly given you on your previous birthday laid on the floor, ready to be washed and worn again. Small trinkets of your favorite interests decorated the room. Traces of you and your life swirled around your cold room, you thought about the previous conversation you had with Brian. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe Tim decided to finally crank up the heat, but you felt warm inside when thought about the people you met through this hellish job. Forgetting about all the anger you have for certain coworkers of yours, you sunk further into bed.

You grinned to yourself in the dark and shut your eyes, ready for bed. “I’d never regret accepting Slender’s offer.” You whispered slowly, letting yourself succumb to the night’s rest that eagerly awaited you.

___

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated !! feedback through the ask box welcomed (won’t give out future chapter info though hehe)

#masky x reader #masky x you #tim wright x reader #creepypasta fanfiction #tim wright x you

46 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 4 years

Text

Dandelion- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Prompt: You’re the only girl that makes Harrison nervous, the only girl that’s unknowingly owned his heart for years- and the only girl he’s ever stood up on a date. Now, four years later, is he too late to try for a second chance?

Featured Songs: Dandelion by Kacey Musgraves and It Had to Be You from When Harry Met Sally

Based On: This scene from Psych

Word Count: 12k (longest fic right hereeee)

Warnings: swearing, secondhand embarrassment to the MAX, Harrison being a simp

Masterlist Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Why are we even shopping today? Your party’s not for another week.” Harrison let out a groan as he walked into the grocery store with Tom and Harry, the former had been very insistent on getting food for his birthday party a week in advance.

“I procrastinate on everything else, let me do something reasonably on time for once.” Tom stated, pushing the cart and heading straight for the alcohol aisle. “What should we get?”

“It’s your party.” The blond replied with a shrug. He grabbed a large case of beer, claiming, “As long as there’s beer, I’m fine.” “Didn’t you say Shelby likes Whiteclaws?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah, she does!” Tom perked up, grabbing a large box full of the hard seltzers.

“You’re catering to Shelby’s needs now? Tom, it’s your party.” Harrison reminded him again. Shelby being the girl who was Tom’s unofficial girlfriend.

“I want to impress her.”

“Haz, calm down. Maybe she’ll bring some of her hot friends for us.” Harry joked, nudging his friend, who looked unimpressed.

“I’m just saying, you should just be official with her already. You’re practically dating her.” Harrison insisted.

“You’re one to talk.” Tom laughed, before mimicking his friend, “‘Just ask her out already. It’s not that hard.’ Wanna remind us how you haven’t asked a girl out in four years?”

“Shove off. I’ll get the chasers.” He walked away without another word, trying to ignore the snickering from the two Holland boys behind them.

Harrison knew it was hypocritical of him to encourage Tom to officially date Shelby when he couldn’t even ask a girl out. It wasn’t like he had trouble talking to girls; no, Harrison was good-looking and he knew it, so he naturally had no problem turning on his charm whenever a pretty girl was around. It was just that when the time came to actually ask a girl out, he couldn’t. He’d freeze and have horrendous flashbacks to his last date four years ago, flashbacks that crept into his mind now as he searched for some good chasers.

“Harrison! You’re going to be late!” His mom called to him from downstairs.

“No, I’m not!” He halted his nervous pacing as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing anything too special, just a nice blue button-up that brought out his eyes and his best pair of jeans. He kicked himself for letting Tom borrow his nicest pair of casual shoes because the ones he currently wore were just not fitting right. They went well enough with his look, but they squeezed his toes uncomfortably and there were little dirt stains on the side that he just hoped no one could see, especially you. He ran his fingers through his hair, and then again, trying to fix it and make sure it didn’t look too gelled up or too casual. He thought to himself ‘This is a casual thing, calm down’, but his brain was so scattered, he could barely focus on that.

“Mum says you need to leave.” His sister said, opening his door and making him jump.

“How do I look?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Wonderful. Now go, you’ve got a date!” She pushed him out of the room. Harrison grabbed his keys and his wallet from the table near his front door, trying to rush out of the house before his mum came into the room, but she was too fast.

“Let me see.” She smiled teasingly at him, and he sighed before turning around so that she could approve of his outfit. Pinching his cheeks, she gushed, “You look so handsome.”

“Thanks. I need to go.” He kissed his mother goodbye quickly.

As Harrison left his house, he heard his mum’s passing comment to his sister, “I’ve never seen him so nervous for a date. I hope she’s the one.”

Since you were getting off work and had your car there already, you’d told Harrison that you could meet him at the fairgrounds, the spot he had chosen for your date. The whole drive over there, he was thinking of different ways to greet you- should he do the cute romantic thing and cover your eyes for a moment, or was that too creepy? His mind rushed over to the wonder about how the night would go- would you two share a cotton candy, would you hold his hand as you two go on a thrill ride, would you need a jacket because it’s cold? Harrison’s heart surged with nervousness; he didn’t even think of bringing a jacket for you and he didn’t even have one for himself. Stopped at a red light, he blindly stretched a hand to the back of the car, in search of one of his spare jackets back there. Feeling a soft cotton material, he quickly pulled on the jacket and brought it up to his lap. He didn’t know how long it’d been his car, but judging by its smell it had definitely been in there a while. So maybe he wouldn’t give you his jacket in hopes that you take it home at the end of the night as an excuse to see him again.

The light turned green and he started to drive again. The thought of the end of the night hadn’t even crossed his mind. Did you expect him to kiss you or was it supposed to be one of those intimate hugs to end the date? His mum was right, he’d never been so nervous for a date, but he couldn’t help it. This was you.

He met you at school years ago. You two didn’t have many classes together, which made Harrison a bit sad because he wanted any opportunity to see you (but he was kind of grateful too because he definitely didn’t do well in the classes that you shared with him). He was completely enraptured by you; it took him months to finally talk to you in class. Then it took a couple more months before he managed to actually say anything more than a simple ‘hi’ to you. Poor Tom had to hear him go on for almost a year about how pretty you were or about something you said during class. Eventually, just in time for graduation when you’d all split ways, he worked up the courage to just get your number. After infrequently texting you for a while (he didn’t want to come off as a creep and text you too often), he finally asked you out a couple days ago. He was still in disbelief that you said yes. You were the girl he’d been fawning over for the past several years, and you had said yes to just going on a date with him. You had almost every guy at the school falling at your feet, you could have accompanied anyone to the carnival and yet you chose him. You made him feel like a giddy school boy, not a nearly 20-year old man.

He had hoped his nerves would’ve calmed down by the time he got to the fairgrounds, but they didn’t; if anything, his heart was beating inhumanly fast and his hands were the clammiest they’d ever been. He managed to get a parking spot near the front gate, right near where the two of you were supposed to meet. He was two minutes early; he had two minutes to calm down and go out there.

“Just be cool.” He mumbled to himself. He looked at himself in his rearview mirror and smiled, “‘Hi, Y/N’. No, that sounds creepy. ‘Hey’- God, no.” He groaned, still unable to settle on the best way to greet you. Seeing something move near the gate, he quickly looked over to see you walking to the gate.

You stood nervously in the shade, trying to hide from the evening sun. You wore a light blue babydoll dress with a dandelion print that made Harrison’s heart soar- you two had inadvertently matched color schemes. On your shoulders rested a dark blue denim jacket, which told Harrison all his worrying about the jacket dilemma was for nothing. He already knew your jacket definitely smelt better than his, and that was reassuring to him. You just looked so beautiful standing there; if you hadn’t told him you were coming from work, he wouldn’t have been able to tell. He watched as you nervously fiddled with the black bag hanging from your shoulder. You got out your phone, and Harrison watched your fingers dance across the screen before his own phone vibrated.

‘Hey, I’m here x’ You had texted him, and his heart seemed to start beating even faster- he didn’t know how he wasn’t having a heart attack. You held your phone with your left hand and put your right hand in your jacket pocket, fidgeting with it anxious. It was a nervous tick of yours that Harrison had picked up on years ago; whenever you were nervous, you’d play with your right pocket and that’s why your right jacket pockets were always disproportionately more damaged than your left.

Any confidence that he had before was gone. He couldn’t bring himself to respond to your text, and he felt frozen in his car. After a few more minutes had gone by, you texted him again and began to walk in small circles. Instead of reading your text, he pulled up Tom’s contact. He hated it, but he needed his best friend, he needed to be talked into going out there. Tom was the only person who saw firsthand how much Harrison admired you over the years, seeing as he was the one to continuously push his friend to talk to you.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Tom asked as soon as he picked up the phone. When Harrison didn’t immediately respond, he got concerned, “Mate, tell me Y/N didn’t stand you up.”

“No, no. I just- Tom, I can’t.” Harrison said, his voice breaking.

“What do you mean you can’t? The girl of your dreams agreed to go on a date with you, give her the best date ever.”

“No, I can’t. She’s here, but I- I can’t even get out of my car.”

“Do you not like her anymore?” He asked, unsure of his friend’s predicament. Harrison had been so nervously excited about your date for days, and Tom had to hear all about how much his best friend liked you for years. This was a perfect situation for Harrison, was it not?

“I do. It’s just too real. There’s no way she’d actually date me. She’s too good for me.”

“Harrison! Listen to yourself! You’re incredible, mate, and Y/N knows that. That’s why she agreed to go out with you. Don’t leave her there. Go get her.” Tom insisted.

“O-okay, I will.” He replied before saying goodbye and hanging up his phone. He was about to leave his car when he got a call from you. He wanted to pick it up, he wanted to hear your voice, but he just felt like he was disappointing you. It had been half an hour already. Once the phone call went through and you left a voicemail, he looked up to see you sitting against the trunk of a tree, defeated, and turned away from his car that you still had yet to spot. He felt defeated himself, he was looking forward to this so much and now he was just being cowardly. He hated this feeling. A sudden surge of confidence overcame him and he hopped out of his car, thinking it’s now or never.

You hadn’t seen him yet, and he was mere steps from you. He stopped when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t think he’s coming.” You sighed. There was a pause as you listened to the other end of the call, still unaware of his presence. “I’m just going to go. It’s been almost a hour, and I haven’t even heard from him. It just feels like a waste of time, he really let me down.”

Harrison felt himself grow heavy at your words. As much as he wanted to take the final few steps to you and to tell you he was there, his body betrayed him and he stood there, motionless and speechless.

“I even wore that blue dress I just bought. I thought he’d like it because it matches his eyes.” You laughed lightly and he felt his heart drop at your words. You were trying to impress him. “I feel so stupid. It’s probably stained now.” You stood up and dusted off your dress. You sniffled a bit and he felt his heart break- he’d made you cry and it was the worst feeling in the world for him. As you took one last look around for him, Harrison ducked behind the large tree trunk to stay out of view. With a final sigh, you left. Harrison threw his head back against the tree. He was so angry with himself, you were all he wanted for years and he finally had him, but now you were gone, probably for good. You were there, and he was there; why couldn’t he just actually be there for you?

“Chasers, chasers, chasers,” He mumbled to himself, walking through the store trying to find where they had hidden the drink section (why it wasn’t right beside the alcohol section, he didn’t know). He paused his search, hearing an all too familiar singing voice come over the store’s radio.

As if the memory of him leaving you like that wasn’t haunting enough for him, you went on to become a successful artist and sometimes he felt like there was no escaping your popular songs. He couldn’t bring himself to listen to them though. Tom said that they were good- after all, he still kind of kept up in contact with you, but Harrison knew it’d only make him feel even more guilty about his actions all those years ago. He hadn’t reached out to you at all since before that fateful and horrendous night. You were special and he always knew that, he just didn’t appreciate you enough when you were there.

Trying his best to ignore the melodic sound of your voice, he continued his journey to finding chasers. He finally found the aisle labeled “beverages” and figured they had to be there. When he turned the corner, his eyes quickly darted to the drink selection in front of him. It was only then that he realized this was a stupid idea; why did Tom put him in charge of chasers? It was still Tom’s party. Just as Harrison was about to say “fuck it” and grab a box of Coke, he realized there was one other person in the aisle to his left. The stranger hadn’t noticed him though and she pushed a loose hair back under her hood before pulling the hood down some more, so her face was a bit more obstructed. Her right hand was shoved into her jacket pocket, fiddling with the cotton material.

Harrison immediately felt a wave of nausea overcome him as his brain processed the stranger as you. It had been four years since he’d stood you up and watched you walk away at the fairgrounds, four whole years since he let his dream girl just walk away, four years since he broke his own heart. He realized he’d been staring too long when you started to look over at him, and before he knew it, he was running out of the aisle and crashing into Harry around the corner.

“Did you get chasers?” Harry asked, confused by his friend’s terrified appearance.

“I- uh, no. I can’t- can’t go down there.” Harrison coughed, scratching his neck nervously.

“Why not?” He looked between Tom and Harrison. Tom’s eyes were just about as wide as Harrison’s; he knew exactly who could be down the aisle to have that sort of effect on his best friend.

“Y/N’s down there?” The older Holland clarified, and the blond nodded, biting his lip.

“Wait, the Y/N?” Harry questioned. He’d heard about the girl that Harrison stood up four years ago, but he’d never actually met her; he’d seen pictures of you, but you were kind of famous now so who hadn’t? Your name had been like a taboo in the Osterfield and Holland households for years now- no one dared to bring you up in front of Harrison, no one except for Tom. Tom was the only person who really knew what happened when it happened. He ended up telling Harry and Sam a few months afterwards, seeing as they were both close with Harrison, but Harrison never told his family. He had told his family that the date went poorly and it was never mentioned again.

“I can’t- I’m- nope.” Harrison was a stuttering mess.

“Look,” Tom started, but his words were cut short as you came around the corner. Harrison quickly dove behind one of the tall bread stands, hoping you hadn’t seen him, but you had and they all knew his hiding spot wasn’t a good one. He mentally cursed at his feet that stood planted in the ground; they wouldn’t let him run away out of this hell of a grocery store.

“Oh, hi, Tom.” You smiled, politely. You had no problem with Tom; after all, he wasn’t the one that stood you up.

“Hey, Y/N.” He leaned over a little, trying to block Harrison from your view. “How have you been?”

“Never better. And you?” You asked, your smile strained as your eyes flickered over to Harrison’s “hidden” figure for a moment. His blue eyes that once captivated you were trained to the ground.

“Been good.” Tom replied, not really sure how long he could keep up the small talk in front of his painstakingly awkward friend.

Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at the abnormally pale Harrison or try to console his poor friend. He’d never seen Harrison be so nervous before; sure, he’d seen the blond be nervous before about something, but never this nervous because of a girl. Now he knew what Tom was talking about when he said Harrison was always a mess when it came to you. To Harry, it almost justified Harrison being so nervous that he stood you up, almost (both Hollands still think it was stupid of Harrison to not just get out of the car and go to you).

“Are you having a party or something?” You asked, looking down at the contents of Tom’s cart that included excessive amounts of alcohol and snacks, both savory and sweet.

“Yeah,” He paused for a moment, glancing over at Harrison before a wide smile broke out on his face, “You should come.”

He held back his grimace as Harrison obviously kicked him, silently questioning what the actual fuck he was thinking. You looked at Tom confused because in all your years of knowing him, you two had been more acquaintances than friends, and also it was a party with Harrison there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to even go, but you couldn’t help yourself from saying, “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Tom smiled and you nodded.

“Well I should be going, but it was nice seeing you.” You stepped around him, needing to get to an aisle behind him. Harrison did the best thing he could to hide from you, holding up a loaf of bread and keeping his eyes closed, praying the ‘I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ concept would pay off. “Bye, Harrison.”

With that, you walked away from the three boys and Harrison let out a small sigh, putting the bread back on the shelf. Tom laughed as his friend punched him in the arm.

“What the hell was that for?” Harrison questioned, all nervousness going away, but he still looked around the store in paranoia in case you came back.

“It’s perfect, mate. Y/N will come to the party, you can apologize and talk to her, and hopefully she takes you back.” Tom smiled hopefully. He thought his plan was ingenious, but the stern look on his friend’s face said otherwise.

“That’s a shit plan.” He crossed his arms, “Look at me! I still can’t even look at her. She just- ugh, I’m not going.”

“You’d miss my birthday party because of Y/N?”

“Well,” Harrison sighed, knowing Tom would hate him if he actually didn’t go. Plus, it’s at his house so he would have to have a pretty big excuse not to show up. “Fine, but I’m not talking to her.”

“I didn’t believe Tom about Y/N until now. You’re so whipped.” Harry laughed, earning a smack from the frustrated Harrison.

“It’s been four years, and she still has a hold over you. I wonder if she knows.” Tom teased him.

“Shut up.” Harrison grumbled, “Let’s just get the chasers and leave.”

Harrison had one week, a whole seven days to prepare his apology speech. He paced around his room daily, trying to come up with the right words to say, even though you’d leave him too speechless and stunned anyway. He felt like he was attempting at writing a Shakespearean monologue, he felt desperate. But how do you apologize to someone who wasn’t even yours to begin with? How does he tell you that he’s sorry he left you? And that it was all because you made him too nervous to actually do anything? And it ended up breaking his heart and stalling his love life up until this point because no one can compare to you, the girl he’s basically loved since he was 14? He never really admitted it before then, but he did love you and that’s why it hurt even more to reflect on that regretful night.

He often wondered how different his life would be if he had just gotten out of the car. Or even if he had remembered a clean jacket. He would’ve greeted you with a bright smile at the gate, and you’d be overjoyed to see him; you two would have shared food all night long; he would have loved to see the crinkles by your eyes as you smiled and laughed from the thrill of the rides; he would have wanted to kiss you on the top of the ferris wheel because you would already be holding his hand since you were afraid of heights; but he would’ve saved your first kiss for the end of the night, for when he was walking you to your car, his hand in yours, his jacket around your shoulders- he would’ve kissed you under the moonlight. But then, maybe you wouldn’t have had your big break, maybe you wouldn’t have written your first big hit because he was in your life, because he was a distraction from your career- and then neither of you would have really known if you could make it in the music business. Yet again, maybe you two would have moved in together by now, living happily in a small apartment, or even a small house where you could have a dog to run around the yard.

For four years, he’s been dreaming of all the different events that could have occurred if he had just gotten out of the car, if he had just stopped you before you walked away. For four years, you’d owned his heart, and he didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw you tonight at the party.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison mumbled to himself, pulling on a nice button-up. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair a little. He just kept repeating the two words he so desperately wanted to tell you tonight. Maybe if he said it enough times now before the party, it’d be the only words he could squeak out when you were there. The anxious part of him was hoping you wouldn’t show, that you’d be sick or something and just couldn’t go; but then the realistic part of him remembered that you literally texted Tom this morning, asking why he didn’t tell you it was a birthday party because now you had to get him a last minute gift- apparently you’d seen the news on Twitter.

“Harrison, dear God, please shut the fuck up.” Tom said as he and Harrison were setting up the makeshift bar. The blond hadn’t even realized he was still mindlessly repeating those words.

“Oh, I’m-”

“Sorry. I get it.” He cut him off. “It’s going to be fine. She’s going to come in, and you’ll apologize.”

“That requires me to speak to her.” Harrison stated, his nerves already hitting him as his palms began to grow clammy.

“I had to listen to you go on about this girl for almost a year before you managed to actually say anything but ‘hi’ to her. You are going to talk to her tonight. That’s what the alcohol’s for.” He laughed lightheartedly, before threateningly adding, “And you’re not going to walk away from her!”

“At this point, I’ll be surprised if my feet actually work around her.” He sighed, putting his hands on the counter and leaning into them. He was beyond stressed about the party, which was just an hour away, “I don’t know what it is about her, but I just- I freeze. She’s beautiful and sweet and funny, and she’s got such an incredible singing voice. She’s perfect and breathtaking, and I can’t handle it. She’s absolutely the girl of my dreams but god, these butterflies are the worst thing in the world. Every time she’s near me, I just can’t speak and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest and my hands get all sweaty and- and I just love her, but I fucked it all up.”

“Calm down, Haz.” Tom spoke softly. “You never know, she might give you another shot. On the bright side, there’s no way you can fuck it up more as long as you don’t freeze.”

“What if-” Harrison paused, standing up straight, “What if I just kept my eyes closed all night, so if I run into her, I won’t freeze because I won’t be able to see her?”

“She’s not fucking Medusa.” His friend smacked him on the back of the head. “Pull yourself together!”

Once the bar was set up, Harrison went back to his room to try to memorize his speech, the perfect words that will hopefully win you over. He read over the small piece of paper, crinkling it under his fingers lightly. He heard Tom start the music and suddenly people began to arrive. He had to go out there now or else he’d never go.

“I can do this.” He told himself as he looked in the mirror, and he suddenly felt like a 19 year old all over again, anxiously hyping himself up for the biggest date of his life. This time it was different. This time he was going to talk to you (well, at least say ‘hi’ before running away).

“You good?” Harry asked as he handed Harrison a drink when the blond finally made it to the kitchen while the party was picking up pace.

“Yeah,” He replied, but it did nothing to convince either of them that he was, in fact, good. Harrison quickly drank the beer, knowing he’d need a bit more if he was going to actually confront you tonight.

“Don’t go too hard. You’ve got to be somewhat coherent when you talk to Y/N.” His friend warned, but Harrison shook him off, downing another. With two drinks suddenly in his system, he stopped to nurse the third one properly. Harry sighed, but he even had to admit that it was a decently good sign that Harrison wasn’t completely planning on being wasted when seeing you (he’d save the shots for after your rejection). Before leaving Harrison alone, Harry stated, “Don’t finish that drink until you talk to her.”

Harrison did as he was told, slowly savoring the one drink while eating some snacks and socializing with old friends. Tom made the rounds throughout the party, and it didn’t take long for Shelby to be latched on his arm. After half an hour of waiting for you, Harrison was about to give up hope and just chug the rest of his drink to get another because he could feel the alcohol slowly fade away. He couldn’t grab another though, because while Harry wasn’t in the kitchen with him anymore, the curly haired Holland still kept a watchful eye on him.

“Haz, look who just showed up.” Tom said, coming over to his friend and nudging him towards the front door, where you just stepped in. Just like that, the nervousness was overflowing in Harrison.

“Go talk to her.” Harry encouraged him, appearing by his side with Sam.

“I don’t-”

“Go!” All three Hollands shouted while Tom physically shoved his friend in your direction. Harrison’s feet took him to you, but they refused to move once your eyes landed on him.

“H-hey, Y/N.” He said, swallowing the anxious lump in his throat.

“Hi, Harrison.” You replied stiffly. In all honesty, you weren’t at all expecting him to actually come over to you and talk to you, not after the grocery store incident.

“Do you- do you want a beer? Or a Whiteclaw? We might have shots too.” Harrison offered. His cheeks heated up with a blush as he stuttered. If he thought he wasn’t good enough for you back then, he definitely felt inadequate now. The past four years had been good to you; you were even more beautiful in his eyes. And it definitely didn’t help that he knew you were a famous singer with probably numerous guys kissing at your feet.

“Could I have a Whiteclaw please?”

“Uhuh, yeah,” He nodded, but his feet wouldn’t move. They’d fallen under your captivating spell. God, maybe Tom was wrong, maybe you were Medusa.

“Everything alright?” You asked, pausing as you were going to follow him to the kitchen, yet he made no noticeable effort to move.

“Yeah, yeah.” His feet finally let him move. So far, so good; he had said all of ten words to you and he hadn’t completely frozen yet- and he hadn’t even walked away from you. As you followed Harrison into the kitchen, the other three Holland boys huddled in the crowd to sneakily watch.

“Wait, wait, that’s Harrison’s Y/N?” Sam asked quietly, just as surprised as Harry had been last week. Harrison was an actual mess as he tried to open your Whiteclaw for you, just to have it bubble over into his hands. The three other boys felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment hit them.

“This is painful to watch, but I can’t look away.” Harry laughed, taking a drink of his beer.

“You think this is painful? I had to sit through his schoolboy crush on her for years, I had to hear his every thought about her. And that includes his dilemma of asking her to formal.” Tom shook his head.

“Did he?” Sam asked.

“We were at a party and I think he got out the ‘will you’ part before running off to the bathroom. That’s the only time I’ve ever witnessed him vomiting from alcohol.” He shuddered, remembering having to console his incredibly drunk friend in the bathroom. Now, he was happy that Harrison was finally talking to you like you were a normal person or he was trying to. As if he was trying to will his friend some confidence, he murmured, “Just don’t choke, don’t walk away.”

“Here,” Harrison handed you a cup that he had transferred the Whiteclaw into, not wanting to give you back a sticky can. He washed his hands, acknowledging the sad Whiteclaw mark on his shirt.

“Thanks.” You replied, taking a sip of the drink.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison whispered, but with his back to you, the music blasting, and the sink still on, he knew you didn’t hear it. And he also knew that if he didn’t have the sound to drown out his words and if he turned to face you, he wouldn’t be able to recite his perfect speech. Sighing, he shut off the sink and turned to face you. As he started to speak, you looked at him and that was enough for him to not even make it past the “I”. Instead, he ended standing there and just moving his mouth, trying to get the words to come out.

“Yes?” You questioned. You remembered back at school that he was always nervous around you and you found it really cute and sweet. That was the main reason you were so interested in going on a date with him four years ago, and that was the main reason why you were so disappointed when he never showed up. Out of all the guys you’d ever met, Harrison was the one that you never believed would stand you up like that. It’d been four years, and you didn’t quite know if you still held a grudge over it. It hurt at the time because you really liked him and you thought he really liked you too, but years had passed so surely you should’ve moved on by now, right? And Harrison- he should have moved on too?

“I- um- ya know,” Harrison felt his tongue getting trapped in his throat. He wanted to scream out how sorry he was about everything and how much he actually cared about you, but the thought of actually talking anymore was making him want to vomit and he hadn’t even had that much to drink. Maybe alcohol with extreme nervousness wasn’t a good mixture for his body.

“Hey,” Tom approached you and Harrison, sweeping in to save his bumbling best friend.

“Hey, happy birthday.” You smiled at him. Harrison hung his head low in shame, he’d manage to mess it up again. He was more than thankful for Tom’s arrival.

“Thank you.” The birthday boy replied with a smile. He turned to Harrison and nudged him a little. “Harrison, what were you going to say?”

“Just, um-“ Harrison lifted his head to look at you, and suddenly wished he hadn’t. With your eyes resting on his intently and his heart beating fast, he could barely think. He thought back to his speech, back to those apologetic words he needed to say, back to his conversation with Tom just moments before the party. He quickly realized his mistake of thinking back to that recent memory because, before he could process his words, he helplessly blurted out, “You’re like Medusa.”

“Yeah- what?” Tom stopped himself, horrified at his friend’s words. He was fully prepared to back Harrison up, expecting him to say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’- just anything besides ‘you’re like Medusa’. You just stood there with your eyes wide and jaw dropped. You didn’t even know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely was not that.

“You know, like- you just-“ The blond tripped on his words, looking to Tom for help.

“What he means to say,” He sent his friend a glare before turning to you, “He’s sorry about your date years ago, and he finds you mesmerizing.”

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You spoke angrily, feeling hurt by Harrison’s words. So much for the sweet and cute teenager you remembered. “Go fuck yourself, Harrison.” Before you even processed your own actions, you threw the rest of your drink on him and stormed out.

“I’m,” Harrison sighed in defeat as his body started to function without you there, “Sorry.”

“Medusa? Are you fucking serious?” Tom asked, infuriated at his friend’s idiotic words. He was grateful that the party was too loud for anyone to register your actions, except for Sam and Harry who were quick by Harrison’s side.

“What the hell happened?” Harry questioned.

“I fucked it up even more.” Harrison groaned, grabbing some napkins to try to wipe off his face and shirt.

“He said she was like Medusa.” Tom explained.

“Since when is your game with girls shit?” Sam stated.

“She is like Medusa though. I freeze whenever she’s there.” The poor blond kept trying to wipe himself off.

“Well you don’t tell her that!”

“I need to go change.” Harrison sighed, leaving for his bedroom without another word.

“We either need to help him get over her or help him get her back.” Harry said as he watched his friend’s retreating form.

“Tonight was supposed to be getting her back.” Tom huffed in defeat. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

Back in his room, Harrison discarded his wet shirt and went to his closet to grab a fresh shirt. That’s when he spotted it- the blue button up he’d worn for his date with you. It was his favorite shirt in his teen years, everyone always complimented it and his eyes whenever he wore it; but it had negative memories surrounding it, the negative thoughts of what could have been. It was mocking him. Grabbing a different shirt, he slipped it on comfortably.

He didn’t want to go back to the party downstairs. He just wanted to stay within the comforts of his room, where he could hide from socializing and act like you didn’t just humiliate him, like he had humiliated you years ago. He had to admit, he deserved a Whiteclaw to the face; in fact, he’d absolutely let you pour an entire keg on him if it made you feel better. God, he was so whipped for you, and you didn’t even know it, and worst of all, you weren’t even his.

Sighing, he laid down on his bed, wanting to savor a few minutes alone. It took him a moment before he registered the soft crinkling of paper and realized he’d been laying on his prepared speech for you.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you’re probably still mad, but just hear me out. I’m four years too late, and that’s four years I should’ve shown you just how amazing you are. I remember the first day I saw you at school. You were the prettiest girl in our school by far; I’d never seen anything as magnificent as you. You were funny, sweet, confident, beautiful inside and out- you were my dream girl. It took me months to work up the courage to talk to you, and I was so pleased when you’d reply to my small greetings with a simple smile. And then it took me even longer to have a full conversation with you. Do you remember it? It was about When Harry Met Sally because you said it was your favorite movie. I told you that I had seen it, but I lied and you knew it too. You were too nice to call me out on that though. Honestly, I still haven’t seen it. I know we didn’t talk much in school, it was more of a ‘we’re friends because we share classes’ friendship, but I still cherished every single time I got to hear your voice.

I know you’re wondering why I stood you up back then, but I didn’t intentionally do it. I was there, at the fairgrounds, two minutes early, and I was stressing over everything- over how I didn’t have a clean jacket to offer you in case you got cold, how I should greet you at the gate, whether or not I should kiss you at the end of the night. You meant so much to me back then- you still do now, but I was too nervous. I couldn’t get out of my car once I saw you there in that blue dress with the dandelions. You were breathtaking, and I couldn’t comprehend how someone as incredible as you would want to go on a date with me. You had almost every single guy at the school in love with you, it just didn’t seem possible that I could win your heart. It took me an hour, but I finally got out of the car and I was going over to you. I was so anxious and I still didn’t know what to say to you. You didn’t realize I was there, but I heard you on the phone. You said you wore that blue dress because you thought it matched my eyes, because you thought I’d like it more, you thought it’d make me like you more.

But you didn’t need a baby blue dress to make me like you. I was so head over heels in love with you back then. You didn’t know it then, and I didn’t know it quite yet either, but you owned my heart. I know this is a lot, and I know this is cheesy, but I do love you. I regret what I did four years ago and I often contemplate how different our lives would be if I had actually shown up like I was supposed to. I don’t regret giving you my heart though; it’s been yours for years and it’ll probably always be yours. So please, will you give me another chance? Will you go on a date with me? And I promise to show up and make it worth your while. You own my heart, please give me a chance at yours.’

Harrison laughed lightly to himself. The note was a pathetic attempt at some grand declaration of love and an apology. As sad as the speech was, he hated himself for not saying it to you. Instead he called you Medusa, of all things to say that was the worst. He didn’t mean it as a put-down or as a derogatory statement; he meant that you were just so captivating to him that he froze whenever he saw you. Everything about you was so beautiful, and he really needed to tell you that, even though he was sure you already knew it. He knew what he meant, but it didn’t come across at all how he intended it to.

He set the paper on his desk and left his room, knowing Tom would be expecting him to return to the party. Freshly changed, he went back downstairs and spotted the other three boys still in the kitchen conversing- he bet it had something to do with him, seeing as they all immediately quieted down when they saw him coming towards them.

“You alright?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned about his friend, even though he was currently trying to plot getting you and Harrison at least in the same room together again.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Harrison replied. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, but he wasn’t fooling anyone really. He grabbed himself a new drink and went to get lost in the crowd. Tom sighed; maybe he shouldn’t have tried to push Harrison tonight, seeing his friend so upset just put a downer on Tom’s mood.

The night went on for Harrison though. Harry had been right last week- Shelby did bring some pretty attractive friends with her that she introduced to the blond (he thought mainly because Tom asked her to after the earlier events). One of them latched onto Harrison, and he didn’t mind the distraction, turning on his charm easily for her. Sam and Harry eyed their friend from afar as he flirted with the new girl; there was no denying Harrison could easily get a girl, which made it even more unbelievable that he was so tongue tied over you.

A few days passed and Harrison was still trying to recover from the party. His thoughts were still stuck on you. He couldn’t believe he had a second chance to talk to you and didn’t. Well, he did, but comparing you to Medusa wasn’t a good talk.

Unbeknownst to him, Tom had created an “ingenious” plan of getting Harrison to see you again, another shot for their friend to say something more than just a sad simile.

“We’re leaving now.” Tom said to Harrison as he and Harry started to walk out the door.

“Okay?” Harrison questioned. It was odd for any of them to announce that they were leaving the house. He had a strange feeling that his friends were up to something, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually care. What he didn’t realize was that Tom left with an envelope, encasing a familiar speech written by Harrison himself.

Hearing the front door close, he turned back to his phone in his hand. He took a sip of his tea as he continued to scroll through your Wikipedia page. Was it weird that he was looking you up? As long as no one knew, he felt like it was fine. He read over your brief background, which just said you were from Kingston.

He choked on his drink a little as he read over how you were discovered. You were singing one of your own songs in a cafe when an agent spotted you and eventually offered you a record deal. The song became your first official single and it was featured on your album of the same name. The song and album name? Dandelion. He could see it then, your blue dress with the delicate dandelion print on it with a denim jacket on top and a slightly damaged left pocket. He turned on the song on Spotify, listening to the lyrics, curious to see if it was about him. As the soft song began, he started to feel foolish; why would you have written a song about him? Maybe you just liked dandelions? Maybe you wore that dress on many dates? It looked incredible on you, so why wouldn’t you wear it often?

“Dandelion, a million little wishes float across the sky, but it’s a waste of breath and it’s a waste of time, I know,” You sounded almost sad as you sang, and Harrison assumed that’s what made you such a good singer, your emotion bled through into your songs, “‘Cause just like him, you always leave me crying, dandelion,”

Crying. Harrison made you cry when he stood you up. Maybe the song wasn’t completely about him, but something told him you may have been inspired after that night. He looked further into the song, wondering if maybe you had publicly said anything. Under the song’s Wikipedia page, it had a quote from you, saying “It was one of the worst nights of my life, getting stood up absolutely sucks and it’s embarrassing, but this song changed my life for the better, so I can’t help but feel a little grateful for that awful date”. As if the song didn’t already make him feel worse about it, you had confirmed it was about him, except no one knew that besides the two of you and anyone else who knew about that date specifically. Further looking into the seemingly endless page of information, he spotted the awards section. He couldn’t hide his pained smile as he read that not only was the song and album nominated for a Grammy, but you had actually won a Grammy for the song. So maybe there was a bright side to him not showing up that night because his actions made you write an incredible song.

As the song faded out, he jumped, hearing a sharp knock at the door. He quickly paused your music and closed out of his tab, not wanting anyone to have caught him basically stalking you online. He shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and walked to the door, wondering who would be arriving unannounced. He opened the door and froze, just like a few days ago, as you stood on his doorstep. The small smile on your face faltered as you saw him.

“Y/N, what- what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were there and it wasn’t just a hallucination.

“Tom invited me. Something about using my music in a film?” You explained, and Harrison raised his eyebrows at you questioningly. You sighed lightly, “Can I just come in and see Tom?”

“He, uh, he isn’t here.” He replied. A light bulb went off in his head, realizing why Tom was literally announcing his departure; he wanted you to be alone with Harrison.

“He said he was here. I just talked to him on the phone.” You stated, not fully believing him.

“No, he isn’t here.” He shook his head.

“Well, um, then I’m going to go.” You said, turning around. Harrison’s mind was racing, you were about to leave him again. Tom had already tried once to get you two together; he couldn’t let his best friend down again, he couldn’t let himself down again.

“”Dandelion”.” Harrison blurted out, stepping out of his to catch you before you got into your car.

“What?” You questioned.

“”Dandelion”. It’s a really good song.” He grimaced, suddenly feeling lame for saying it out loud. He didn’t mean to bring it up, but he needed to say something to you, and dear God it needed to be better than the Medusa comment.

“Thanks, I won a Grammy for it, so,” You answered proudly, pursing your lips together.

“I- I know.” His flickered down to your hand that rested almost threateningly on your car door handle. You were just about to pull it and leave when he spoke up again, “That dress looked amazing on you.”

This time, it was you who froze. You weren’t wearing a dress now, you weren’t wearing one at the party, and you definitely weren’t wearing one at the grocery store. Your mind had already made up its decision of what he meant, but your heart wouldn’t accept that pain all over again. “It’s been four years, Harrison. You don’t get to say anything now. I thought you were better than standing up a girl on a date that she was genuinely looking forward to.”

Harrison couldn’t react fast enough to your seething words before you got in your car and slammed the door shut, driving off quickly without sparing him another glance. Once your car was out of sight, Harrison screamed out in agonizing frustration. He had you right there, you were right in front of him, he was actually talking to you, and he still managed to mess it all up. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, you weren’t ready to forgive him, but he wasn’t even sure he deserved your forgiveness.

“You let her go again?” Tom questioned, coming around the far corner of the house with Harry.

“I thought you two left.” Harrison looked at the pair suspiciously.

“We had to make sure you didn’t fuck it up again, but seems like you did.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Why did you tell her you were there? That’ll make her feel worse!”

“At least you didn’t call her Medusa.” Harry added, earning a pointed look from Harrison.

“Just stop trying to set me up with Y/N. She’s clearly still mad at me over it, and I can’t keep going through this humiliating cycle of rejection.” With that, Harrison wordlessly stormed back into the house and up to his room, angry at his friends for trying so hard to make this right, angry at you for rejecting him yet again, angry at himself for letting you go again and again. Could he get another chance with you after messing it up four years ago and at the grocery store and at the party and now? He so desperately wanted the answer to be yes, but he feared his chances with you were up.

Harry turned skeptically to his older brother as the two walked inside the house. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

“He talked to her at least. He said a full sentence and it was a compliment.” He said proudly, walking into the kitchen with his brother following him.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m meaning your other plan.”

“The letter? There’s two ways it can go: Y/N never talks to him again or she’s touched and reaches out to him.” He stopped, thinking for a moment, “Or she writes another Grammy-winning song about him being a dick. We’ll see in a few days what she does.”

“He’s going to hate you for this, you know that.”

“He won’t hate me when they’re on a date.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’ll hate you for invading his privacy.”

“Whatever. Our plan is genius.” Tom smiled, extremely hopeful about his plan.

“Our? This was all your idea.”

“You’re an accomplice.”

“I’m a victim caught in the crossfire.” Harry held up his hands defensively.

Upstairs, Harrison was starting to grow worried. Where was his paper? He’d been running through it almost every day, hoping to grow the courage to tell you exactly how he felt. He was shit at words in person when it came to you, and he felt like he was even worse on paper. The speech was gone, and he had no clue where it was. He hoped no one had stumbled upon it- after all, he definitely hadn’t told his housemates about it.

Two days later, Tom started to get anxious, waiting for you to receive the letter and contact his friend. He thought perhaps it got put with fanmail, and you just wouldn’t see it for a while. He knew it was soon, but he was really, really impatient and he just wanted to do one thing right for his best friend, even if Harrison’s one request was for Tom to stop trying to be his wingman (in Tom’s defense, he told him to stop after the letter was sent and Harrison still didn’t know about it).

Trying to distract himself, Tom played Warzone with Harry. Neither of them had really talked about the whole letter situation, wanting the letter to take its own course. Just before they started another round, they heard a thud from Harrison’s room.

“What was that?” The older boy mumbled in confusion.

“Maybe he fell off the bed.” Harry laughed. His joke was short lived as Harrison came bolting down the stairs, phone in hand.

“Tom, give me your phone.” He insisted.

“Why?” Tom asked, handing over his phone anyway. After scrolling through it for a moment, Harrison’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, looking between the two phone screens.

“What is it?” The two others questioned.

“Y/N- she texted me.” Harrison smiled in disbelief, handing his friend his phone back. He sat down in the empty armchair and looked at his phone in awe.

“What’d she say?” Tom spoke up, ignoring his brother’s questioning look.

“She just said ‘You get one date. Don’t mess this up’.” He read off his phone, and Tom turned to his brother, nudging him a little. You’d gotten Harrison’s letter (that Tom sent) and you’d given him another chance.

“What’d you respond with?” Harry asked.

“I haven’t responded yet. She just texted me.” He said, nervously moving his thumbs as his phone rested in his hands. “Do I just ask about this Friday?”

“You mean tomorrow?” Tom clarified and he nodded.

“Too soon?”

“No, go for it.” He encouraged his friend. He smiled proudly as Harrison typed out the text and sent it to you.

“I wonder what changed her mind. I mean she was really mad last time. What if she’s leading me on? What if she’s going to stand me up?” He rambled anxiously. God, you hadn’t even planned a date yet, and he was a nervous mess.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Tom reassured him. Harrison hurried out of the room, murmuring something about needing to plan the perfect date (round 2). Tom turned to his younger brother, “She wouldn’t stand him up as revenge, right?”

Harry shrugged with a small sigh. Well, the boys could hope your intentions were good.

As Harrison tried to reel in his head and racing heart in the quiet reserve of his room, he felt his phone vibrate with another text from you. ‘They’re showing When Harry Met Sally tomorrow night at the park. Pick me up at 7?’

That’s not at all what he expected to receive back from you. Well, he definitely didn’t expect a text from you in the first place, which is why he had to check that it was actually your number on Tom’s phone. He didn’t expect your response to his sorta lame ‘are you free tomorrow night’ to be you planning the date itself. And not only that, but you wanted to see When Harry Met Sally- the first thing he ever truly talked to you about.

He could still remember that conversation clear as day. You were sitting beside him in study hall and pulled out your iPod to listen to music, since your 2010 phone didn’t have any music on it. You didn’t realize your headphones weren’t completely in, and your music started to play quietly. Harrison heard the soft jazz song play and decided to ask you about it before you got too caught up in your work. You smiled, telling him how “It Had to Be You” was from the greatest movie of all-time (in your opinion) When Harry Met Sally. He told you he’d seen it before and thoroughly enjoyed it as well, but the blank stare on his face when you brought up Meg Ryan was a dead giveaway to you that he hadn’t actually seen it. And yet, you didn’t make a comment about it; instead you asked him about his favorite movie. Before he could respond, your teacher called for silence, making you focus back on your work with your headphones plugged all the way into your iPod. Harrison thought that perhaps he saw you blush as you turned away from him, but he was too preoccupied with his mind still trying to process that you two had a conversation, a tiny one but it was enough for him.

He couldn’t argue with you about seeing the movie at the park tomorrow. You were giving him another chance, and if you wanted to see a movie in the park then Harrison would make damn sure that you’d get to see a movie in the park, even if he had to set up the projector and screen all by himself. This was his fifth chance with you, he couldn’t mess this up again.

“Ok, now remember, Y/N’s a human being so talk to her like one.” Tom stated as he stood by the front door with Harry and Sam beside him. Harrison sat at the step at the bottom of the stairs, tugging on his shoes. His big date was finally here, and his friends were grilling him on making it perfect. It kind of helped, but it also stressed him out a bit more.

“And compliment her, but not in a weird way.” Sam added.

“Don’t even think about Medusa.” Harry piped in.

“You got a clean jacket?” The oldest Holland asked. Harrison ducked back into his room to grab a fresh jacket, one that was perfect for you to wear tonight if you got cold.

“And you have the flowers, right?” At Harry’s words, the nervous boy rushed into the kitchen to grab the small, modest bouquet of fresh roses he had gotten earlier.

“How do I look?” Harrison asked, seeking approval as he held the bouquet in one hand and his jacket and keys in another. In jeans and a casual yet dressy blue shirt, he hoped he looked good enough for you. He thought about wearing that blue shirt he wore last time, but decided against it- maybe that shirt has bad voodoo on it, he didn’t know and he didn’t want to test it.

“You look great, now go get her.” Tom ushered him out of the door.

With a confident yet nervous spring in his step, Harrison stepped inside his car. He delicately placed the flowers and jacket on the passenger seat, sure to not damage or dirty either of them. He made his way over to your place, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. ‘Don’t choke’ he reminded himself. He needed to just make sure he didn’t freeze when he saw you; that was the most important thing, especially since he’d be driving the two of you tonight.

He pulled up to your house just two minutes before he was meant to be there. Two minutes for him to get up and greet you at the door. Just as he was about to open his door and step outside, your front door opened. He sat there awestruck as he watched you lock your door and head over to his car. You were sporting jeans and a simple navy blue blouse, and he swore you looked absolutely gorgeous. He unlocked his car and you opened the door, not even giving him any time to actually greet you outside.

“I got you flowers.” Harrison said, grabbing the jacket and the flowers off the seat to make room for you to sit.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.” You smiled softly, but still graciously accepted the flowers when he handed them to you. You smelled them and eyed the various pink and red roses that made up the bouquet, “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He replied, making you stifle a small laugh, even though you both knew how much he meant it.

“You look pretty handsome, too.” You stated and he started his car back up. “Sorry for rushing out here. My roommate was driving me crazy.”

“I get it.” He laughed, thinking about just how crazy Tom had been acting the past couple weeks. Well, maybe his craziness rubbed off because it led to this moment right here- Harrison taking you on a proper date and hopefully, not freezing.

As Harrison drove over to the park, you two talked about basically everything, about how eager you were to show him this movie, about how his acting had been doing, about how his dog was (he was surprised you remembered Monty). All of it just made him feel more comfortable. Once he got past the wall of nerves from your presence, he was able to flick on his charm for you. You may have been his dream girl, but you were also just a regular person, a person he could hold a steady conversation with. When the two of you arrived at the park, he quickly rushed to the back of his car instead of walking towards the movie itself.

“I brought us a blanket and some snacks.” He explained when he saw your confusion. You smiled at him as he got out a large blanket and a bag of sweets and drinks from his trunk. You may have been the one to decide on the date itself, but he did his own part of the planning, ensuring you had a clean spot to sit and something to eat and drink while the movie played. “I didn’t know what snacks you liked so I kinda got some of everything.”

He opened the bag out to show you its contents and you peered inside. He had sweet candy, chocolate candy, salty snacks, just everything. You looked back up at him and a bright blush made its way onto his cheeks. In your eyes, he was back to being the sweet 19 year old you had agreed to go on a date with four years ago.

“It’s perfect.” You reassured him, but you weren’t even sure if you meant the snacks or the date or just him.

“Well, we better hurry if we want a good spot before the movie starts.” Harrison laughed lightly, closing the bag and shutting his trunk. You walked beside him to where the movie would be showing and found a nice spot near a tree. He laid out the blanket for you and the two of you sat down next to each other, but not enough to actually be touching.

“I’m genuinely excited for you to see this.” You told him as the ads finished, signaling the start of the movie.

“I am, too.” He smiled over at you one last time before the movie truly began. It was only a few minutes into the film when you shifted to lean in Harrison’s side. After the initial shock of your movement, Harrison wrapped an arm around your waist so that you could fall easily into his side while you watched the movie play out. Halfway through the film, he felt you shiver a little and quickly handed you his jacket. He smiled to himself, happy that he definitely did at least one thing right, as you thanked him for the warm jacket.

Sharing snacks with you throughout the movie, he found himself truly enjoying it. He could see how it was your favorite film, how you loved the featured song so much that it was your favorite song. He couldn’t help but acknowledge how it was a film all about second chances, or really just multiple chances with the same person over and over again until they both finally got it right. His history with you may not have been exactly like the film, but he felt like it still resonated; he wondered if you chose the movie completely on accident or if you had remembered about that first conversation, if you had thought of it as similar to your current situation.

His overthinking wasn’t done there though. As he drove you back to your place after the movie concluded, you two discussed the movie (this time with actually understanding who Meg Ryan is). He was a little dazed as he talked, trying to think of how to end the night. Would it be too forward if he kissed you? Because truth be told, he’d wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you all those years ago. When he pulled up to your house, he was happy to see you still casually wearing his jacket. He didn’t want the night to end, especially considering he still hadn’t really apologized for four years ago, still hadn’t explained himself for what happened at the party, still hadn’t explicitly told you about the mesmerizing effect you had over him.

“Well, thank you for tonight. It was nice.” You spoke up with a smile.

“Yeah, it was.” He nodded, feeling himself start to choke up. He’d made it almost two hours without becoming speechless in front of you, and now at the end of the night, perhaps when it mattered most, he couldn’t speak. You waited a moment before getting out of his car, almost like you were expecting him to say something more. He watched your retreating figure, your right hand shoved deep into his jacket’s pockets. It hit him all at once; you were nervous, you were wearing his jacket, you were walking away from him again. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Wait!” Harrison rushed out of his car and hurried up the driveway to you on the porch. As you stood there in front of him, looking at him intently, his nerves came racing back to him, but he had to say the words. ‘It’s now or never’, he told himself.

“Okay, this is four years overdue, but here it goes.” He started with a small sigh, “I know you think I didn’t show the night I was supposed to meet you at the carnival, but I did. You were standing at the front gate. You were wearing a light blue babydoll dress with dandelions on it and a jean jacket, but the right pocket was ripped because you always used to shove your first in there when you got nervous.” You slowly looked down at your right hand, nervously in the jacket’s pocket. Speechless, you listened to him continuing on.

“You were pacing back and forth that night and waited around for almost an hour before you walked away. And you were on the phone to someone when you walked away, telling them that you wore that dress so that it would match my eyes.” Harrison paused, swallowing down his nerves, “I was so nervous, I choked. And you know what, that hardly ever happens to me, but the truth is, Y/N, I think I liked you too much, and somewhere in the back of my head, I knew what that night would mean, and even how my life could be different now if I hadn’t let you walk away, but this a different moment, and- and it’s a chance to make a different choice.” He felt himself starting to choke up again, “And you’re really amazing, and I know we can’t go back in time, but I wish that there was some way-”

Harrison’s words were cut short as you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Though he was incredibly stunned by the fact that you kissed him, his arms went to your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed you back passionately. The kiss ended all too quickly for him when you stopped it for air.

“Definitely four years overdue.” You smiled at him. If he wasn’t breathless already from the passionate kiss, your smile just his breath away even more.

“Thank you for giving me another chance. I really didn’t want to mess any of this up.” He admitted.

“Well, the letter was so sweet, I couldn’t say no.” You leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled back from the kiss though with wide eyes.

“What letter?” He asked.

“The one that you wrote? About me being the prettiest girl in school and how you were there when I thought you stood me up?” You explained, and his cheeks grew red in embarrassment.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He groaned, “I wrote that just so I could apologize to you at the party and to tell you how much you mean to me. I didn’t mean to say you’re like Medusa- I just meant that you’re-” You cut him off with another kiss.

“You talk too much sometimes.” You laughed.

“I can get used to getting cut off like that.” Harrison smiled at you, kissing you again.

He may be mad at Tom for sending that private speech, but Harrison got the girl in the end so maybe his friend wasn’t the worst wingman ever.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield x reader #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfic

363 notes · View notes