#'fore i said a word she was takin' my hand ; spinnin' me around 'til it faded out ; and she gave me a kiss 🦅 ship [ keigo / bella ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

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Play It Again - Ned Kendall x Reader (Beautiful Kate)

@wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

It was always a Prequal/Sequal to “Somewhere on a Beach”. However it didn’t really turn out that way... You may however still read it as one.

Author’s Note: *ehem* So, Here’s another ‘Ned Kendall Has Been Stuck At The Bottom Of My Drafts For A Year’ fic. 😬

Also I started this one in December and it’s taken until now to finish it... 🙈

Asides from that, he did demand to be written in one sitting. So that’s how we are actually finished now! (Along with some persuasion from Amanda, of course!)

Disclaimer: Beautiful Kate Characters not mine / the titles of Ned’s novels are actually the titles of my mum’s novels 😁 / gif not mine / lyrics not mine

Premise: When you end up dating your favourite author you fear that telling him could lead to trouble. What you don’t know is Ned already knows, he’s just waiting for the right moment to tell you exactly how he feels...

Words: 7497

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Connotations

________ She was sittin' all alone over on the tailgate Tan legs swingin' by her number plate I was lookin' for her boyfriend Thinkin', “No way! She ain't got one!?” Soon as I sat down I was fallin' in love Tryin' to pour a little sugar in her Dixie cup Talkin' over the speakers in the back of that truck She jumped up and cut me off She was like, oh my God, this is my song I've been listenin' to the radio all night long Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance 'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out And she gave me a kiss And she said, play it again, play it again, play it again And I said, play it again, play it again, play it again A little while later We were sittin' in the drive in my truck Before I walked her to the door I was scannin' like a fool AM, FM, XM too But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove Man, you should have seen her light up The next Friday night we were sittin' out under the stars You should have seen her smile when I brought out my guitar Yeah, play it again, play it again, play it again Somebody, play it again, play it again, play it again

---

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you And I will hold on to you

---

The party wasn’t as far out of the city as he was used to, but far enough for it to be quiet. She was sitting alone, eyes staring at a fixed point in front of her, legs swinging over her tailgate like she was waiting for something... or someone... There was an empty cup in her hand and she wasn’t in any way paying attention to the party. She caught his eye immediately – young, and pretty, and just his type. He grabbed the nearest bottle of god-knows-what alcohol and glanced around. There had to be a boyfriend, there simply had to be. No way she was out here tailgating alone-! He eyed every single man, even those clearly not single just to make sure; and yet no one was making a move towards her. No one but him. She turned his way as he approached, head tilted inquisitively and offered a friendly smile. Ned Kendall looked back to the party with a soft chuckle; “Some party, huh?” “You could say that – the music isn’t bad…” Her eyes flicked back to her cup, “Guess I could use a top up.” “Oh!” He smiled, perching on the edge of her tailgate; “Allow me.” He poured a sensible amount into her cup and placed the bottle between them; “You here alone?” “Mhm.” She simply nodded, taking a sip; it wasn’t bad by all accounts, “Why? You lookin’ to change that?” Her smile was amused however, rather than her looking at him accusingly. Ned laughed, looking away from her, “I guess I just wanted to keep you company over here alone.” “Oh. I see.” There was a pause before she was laughing too, and patted the spot next to her, “Well, if you’re gonna do that, you might as well sit up here properly, …?” “Ned.” “Ned.” She nodded, taking another sip as he hoisted himself up into her truck bed, legs swinging in time with hers, “I’m Y/N.” You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to drive your truck back home, you’d already had a few too many trying to enjoy yourself before he’d shown up. Parties like this weren’t really your thing, but you did like getting out in the middle of nowhere to drink and tailgate from time to time – the music would be loud, and usually it was to your taste, as it was tonight. You didn’t ever particularly look for company, or to be hit on – the only time you’d been to these accompanied was with boyfriends past, and a few friends. But most of the people here tonight were unknown to you – a friend of a friend of a friend on some social media group had mentioned it, and you’d had nothing better to do. Still, as you laughed and talked with Ned in the back of your truck, you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying being here with someone. He was sweet, and his flirting was as smooth as his pouring, every so often he’d intersperse a dirty joke or two just to see how you’d react. And you knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop you from laughing and covering your face. “Oh God, that was bad!” “But you laughed!” “It was funny, but it wasn’t good!” The more you looked at him, the more you knew you’d already met him, or seen him around somewhere. Ned’s face was so familiar, but also just out of reach. You couldn’t place exactly who he was; a guy I’ve loved on the dance floor? A friends ex? A friends fling? I know this face… you weren’t the one night stand type, so he wasn’t one of yours. You were preparing to ask him exactly where you knew him from, maybe he’d approached you because he also already knew you, but you were just as soon distracted by the song change. “OH!” You leapt up – cutting him off mid-sentence; “It’s my favourite song!” Ned was just a little startled by the movement, not having a lot of time to react to the information before you turned back to him; “Come here, come dance with me.” His hesitation was momentary, and even as he asked if you were sure, Ned was sliding out of the back of your truck, hand out to take yours. “YES! I’m sure! Come on! This track is the best!!!” And, as you pulled him closer to you and let him wrap you in his arms as he danced with you – maybe a little closer than appropriate, Ned wasn’t one for disagreeing with you. Especially as you were clearly having the time of your life, carefree little smile on your face, the way you danced and laughed even harder than you had been before – clinging to him as he held you. How could he not love this? Ned had only come out here to get away from it all, and certainly get away from his desk and his writing for a while; at least to get out of his head. Maybe get a little drunk – but then here you were, and he wasn’t sure he’d quite meant for his evening to end holding someone. Ned thought you might let him go as the song ended but you didn’t, instead you pulled him in and laced your hands with his for the next song, and the next, and the next until things seemed to be winding down. This wasn’t really your kind of thing either, but there was nothing wrong with letting a hot guy spin you around in the middle of nowhere every once in a while – sometimes you just needed to take one or two steps out of line. You let him go with a giggle, he kept your hand in his and, as you didn’t protest, he assumed you also weren’t ready for this night to end just yet; “Thank you, Ned, I hope I didn’t wear you out too bad!” His smile was gentle; “Nah, I should be thanking you, I don’t think I’ve done anything like that for a while…” He glanced around, “What you say we get out of here.” “Ah-!” You pointed back to your truck, “I don’t think I’m legally allowed to drive.” Ned shrugged; “Well, I’m not doing too bad.” You weren’t sure that was true, but he seemed to be holding up better than you were. You already knew you were at the point where you’d do something stupid, like try to walk through a barrier to the subway without remembering to put your ticket in; that’d happened a few times before now. “I could… take you somewhere?” You giggled again; “Is this just a ploy to get my address?” He smirked; “Guess that depends, does it come with your number?” You bit your lip through your smile with a single nod, yeah that was pretty well played; “I mean, I guess it could…” By all accounts he drove pretty well; although that raised its own questions: high alcohol tolerance, didn’t actually drink too much, you’d drunk waaay too much and therefore comparably he drove well… or just too used to driving in the state he was in. Not that you really wanted to dwell on that thought when you’d had such a good night. Ned pulled into your drive way and shut the engine off; “Oh. Yeah, nice neighbourhood.” He nodded, “Little better than a high rise in the city!” You scoffed, “You say that, but that also means you make enough money to afford a high rise in the city.” “Eh. You have a good point.” He turned to you, “Can I walk you to your door?” You were a little wary of where that could lead, but said yes anyway – and found yourself holding hands with him as you ascended your front steps. You both stood in silence again, studying each other – and wondering who was going to make the first move. He cleared his throat; “So, uh…” Ned rummaged in his back pocket, taking out his mobile, “Do I get that number?” You couldn’t help smiling and pulled yours out of your bag, “Do I get yours in return?” “MHM!” He couldn’t have taken your phone from you more eagerly if he’d tried, returning it to you just as quick. “Maybe…” he paused for a moment “Hey, Y/N, maybe we could do something sometime soon? Not exactly like tonight but, you know, and if you’d need a place to crash-” He hesitated once more at the intrigued look on your face and then thought better of it, “Well, we’ll discuss.” “I’d like that, I’d like to do something with you, Ned I think it’d be fun!” He was clearly happy you’d said that, “Alright! Excellent! And now we have numbers so… don’t- don’t be a stranger… Uh, you gonna be already getting your truck tomorrow?” “Yeah, don’t worry I’ve done it before.” You waved away his concern with a smile of gratitude “Cool. Well, you know if you need any help, let me know, I’m around.” “Oh! Thank you, I will!” Although he still didn’t disappear off your porch, and you weren’t sure you wanted him to leave it just like that either. In the end you couldn’t be sure which one of you moved first, all you knew is his lips were on yours, and your hands were back in his. It was an appropriately short kiss, but still a good one. And as he stepped back towards his car, you knew that was exactly how he was going to leave it. “Goodnight, Y/N.” “Goodnight, Ned, thank you – I had a great evening!” “Me too.” He nodded, and left you with a smile.

You shook your head gently, still smiling as you closed the door after watching him walk down your porch steps - hand up in farewell. That kiss decided it wanted to linger on your lips, and him on your mind. So you let them. Ned - a name you also recognised, but you weren't sure where from. You'd figure it out in the morning. His face was so familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on either right now. When things were a little less cloudy for you, you were certain you’d remember. You changed for bed and grabbed yourself a glass of water. Tapping a text out to the number he'd given you ’Thank you for the great evening! Goodnight x’ knowing he'd have to drive home, you didn't expect a message back - but that didn't mean you weren't hoping to hear your phone buzz before you drifted off. It did, and you smiled but were too tired to pick it up - that didn't matter, you'd get it in the morning and it'd give you something good to wake up to. ***

When you awoke your head was aching as much as you expected and you reached for your clock with a groan; the day was already nicely into double figures. You picked up your phone, squinting at the screen as it lit to relay what you’d missed.

Not only had you received a goodnight, but also a good morning text. Which made you smirk. Clearly he was serious about this being more than just a one night out, kiss on the front porch thing.

You sat up - taking a sip of water that you had to thank yourself for placing on your bedside table. Luckily, you had put the glass down before you had a mini heart attack and almost screamed. The phone was dropped, and fell with an equally dramatic clatter.

When you weren’t out and about at parties, your usual evening was spent curled up with a book, and you were currently working your way back through your favourite authors entire back catalogue before the release of his latest novel. So, there was currently a half finished one sitting on your bedside table. Complete with a little authors biography on the back. Which was fine. If it wasn’t for the accompanying picture.

You picked the book up in disbelief. No wonder his name and face was so fucking familiar to you. Because he was staring back at you now. Whether greatest moment of aligned stars or sheer dumb luck - you’d just pulled Ned Kendall. He was Ned Fucking Kendal! Your favourite author. And he’d just text you ‘Good Morning Beautiful x’

***

You’d gone from hanging out casually at weekends to dating pretty quickly – although you didn’t think it was ever going to be anything other than dating, because his flirting was furious. Any time or reason Ned could think to see you, he did. You worked at a publishing house, but not his, as an editor – mostly factual books and biographies. All very interesting, but you loved escaping to the world of fiction. When he eventually confessed he was a writer you played dumb, wanting to pretend you had no idea who he was, that you’d never read a single word of anything he’d ever published. Although you had, many times over. Ned immediately recommended some of his favourites of his own work, and you said you’d have to check them out sometime. The truth was you didn’t want to look like a raving fan who was dating him just because of who he was. You didn’t want him to think that was the kind of girl you were. Because that wasn’t true at all, his name and his money – although you couldn’t be sure exactly how much Ned made – didn’t really mean a thing to you, you’d fallen for his personality and the man he was now. He didn’t write like the man he was – unless something had happened to change that. The release of his newest novel was immanent and part of you was holding off until then, so you could read that ‘first’. You already had a feeling that it was going to be like nothing else he’d ever written, and therefore be reviewed as such. But as much as you loved all his work, you were excited to see where he would take things now.

However, even you couldn’t contingency plan for the scenario that Ned would find out for himself. On a quieter day, when you were busy in the kitchen having invited him over for dinner, Ned became curious in your bookshelf. You’d left him in your living room with a good glass of wine whilst you just checked on a few things, and he had nothing better to do than a bit of discovery. He wondered what kind of books you liked reading, what was your genre of choice, who were your favourite authors, what could he use on your shelves to get you to springboard into reading one of his own works. Ned knew, of course, that you wanted to wait for the new one – but part of him wanted you to read the darker parts of him, because if you could do that maybe this relationship would last. He wasn’t sure he could guarantee he wouldn’t go back there; he was certainly capable. A simple scan of the spines had him smiling, remembering a dig from one of his exes, ‘Noone reads anymore, my ass...!’ He ran his fingertips over them, every author listed alphabetically, and he nodded along impressed by the scale of the collection. Your non-fiction occupied the top few rows, but everything else was fictional, your genre ranging from romance to thriller to horror and back again. Ned liked that; you had range. And taste, damn this girl’s got taste! His smile only getting broader as he passed several of his own favourite authors, especially if they were books he’d particularly enjoyed. Ned found himself thinking he was probably onto a winner here – you were incredibly well read. But suddenly he paused, and moved away from the shelf, frowning like he wasn’t sure he was reading this right. Dragging his eyes back to the beginning of the row, he realised he was; and Ned’s heart gave a sudden jolt that he couldn’t explain. Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall, Kendall... For the entire shelf. His eyes flicked to the kitchen, but you showed no signs of moving from there, he swallowed and looked to them once more. Ned realised very suddenly that you knew exactly who he was. EXACTLY who he was. But why hadn’t you told him that-!? Did you not want to tell him that for your own reasons? Should he therefore continue the game you were playing, as if he didn’t know you knew? This wasn’t just one or two he’d recommended you; this was everything he’d ever released, and judging by the fact most were also hardback, and the covers, a fair few were first editions. Better than that, nearly every single one of them was pristine; you also cared so much about your books. He understood that, though, he’d seen you read once or twice and you always made sure not to crease the spine. Except one. There was just one with his name on the spine where it was creased to the point where the title was barely readable. Your favourite...? He would think so. Read so often that it couldn’t be helped that it would at some point be ruined...

He smiled and slid it from the shelf; amazingly the cover was still pretty intact. Past Imperfect – he wondered what it was about this one that you loved so much? Maybe one day he’d get the opportunity to ask you about it. In fact, as he held it in his hands, nothing was stopping him from waltzing into your kitchen and leaning against the wall with a smirk; ‘Oh! So you knew I was a writer then!?’ But something about that seemed wrong. You wanted to come at this at your own pace, and it wasn’t fair for him to force that confession out of you. However, maybe Ned could help you out. He turned, and scanned the room again, taking the book with him, looking for a pen. He grabbed the first one he could – making sure it worked on the back of his hand before opening the front cover. Ned thought for a minute, tapping the pen against his lip, and then smirked as he leant on the table to write the perfect message, accompanied by his signature. With that, and with you still not here, he closed the book and slotted it back into its rightful place on the shelf. Because he knew if there was one book of his you were going to pick up and re-read, it’d be that one. Stepping away again he took a deep breath, and realised how good he felt. You were a fan of his. You knew his darker parts because it was all right here in front of him, and you’d come into his life now – at the beginning of a brand new chapter. That made him even more excited that you were about to accompany him on this journey; and with the biggest grin on his face he walked into the kitchen; “Hey, babe, do you need some help?” “Oh, no you don’t need to-” You turned from the counter and paused at the look on his face, how happy he was suddenly, “What?” Although you could hardly help but mirror his smile. He gave a shrug, “Nothing…” Although that couldn’t be further from the truth; “I guess I’m just so in love!” and then, Ned knew that he was. ***

In and around the release date of A Few Words Too Many Ned had a lot of press to do, and it wasn’t something he’d ever particularly enjoyed – yet, this time it was all very different. And most of all, he liked asking you to things. He’d known the truth for a good few months now, and he was trying to bring you into as much of his writing world as he possibly could. He’d already made you promise to read excerpts from his latest manuscript, and as you were an editor he wondered if he’d be able to persuade you to be his. Maybe. Ned thought you just as much might be dying to ask – under that façade. But he didn’t push or force any issue, or try to get you to trip up. He did, however, invite you to a book talk, you’d already been to the release party with him, and accompanied him to a couple of pre-release interviews. Even though you worked for a publishing house, seeing it from the point of the view of an author was fascinating. Tonight you wouldn’t be sitting with Ned, but in the audience listening to your boyfriend talk about both his latest release and his back catalogue. You had some burning questions of your own, but, also you’d not read a word of the new one yet – despite him offering to get you a copy of it. You were much happier to support him by buying one; which you would in your own time. Also, this was the first night it would be available to the public, so you wanted to read it at the same time everyone else got to. Ned couldn’t lie that he was a little disappointed in the evening as a whole. Because whilst he was up there answering everyone else’s desperate questions, the ones he really wanted to answer were yours, and there was no way you didn’t have any. You were content to sit in silence, taking it all in. He might have been your favourite author, but you had never been to a talk by him before. And you knew Ned was fascinating as it was, but hearing him talk about his books with as much passion as you had for reading them was truly another experience all together. And just the difference between this bad boy public image – the kind of man who would write and live something like ‘Half His Luck’ and the way he was with you (although if you were to confess, sometimes when it got hot and heavy between you he was a little like that) were very nearly worlds apart. But Ned was nice, he was still personable and his sense of humour was like a fire cracker. You liked hearing everyone else laugh at the cheeky way he answered certain questions, and how they all held on to every word as he got deep on occasion. You were proud of him, and at least you would be able to tell him that much without giving it all away.

At the end of the night, after you’d sat there beaming, watching him sign for everyone who’d purchased a copy of his book and how much of an sweetheart he was 1:1 with his fans - how he took time to talk to them, take photographs and answer any final questions they had – Ned checked his watch and took your hand, announcing he had reservations at one of his favourite places down town. That was good with you, you realised just how hungry you were. “Did you enjoy that?” “I had a lot of fun!” You nodded, “And you? It looked like you enjoyed the evening. You’re certainly good with your fans!” “…Yeah.” Ned looked bashful for a moment before his eyes locked on yours, wishing you’d understand quite the significance of what you were saying. “It was good, I mean… I just wish you’d ask questions.” For a moment you went red, but recovered well – “I suppose I better get reading if I want to ask you questions as good as they all did-!” “Yeah, a few spoilers that hopefully you’ll forget!” “Oh! Then I hope I do!” You laughed, holding his hand a little tighter and winding yourself around his arm, head on his shoulder, “I should read this one now it’s out, too…” it was a quiet muse. Ned took a deep breath; maybe then he’d finally get to press the issue of your bookcase with you. “Yeah, I suppose you should!” “I bet your writing is incredible. I bet all your work is amazing! The way you talk about it is…” You trailed for a moment, “I can tell how much you care – about how much of you is in your work. So, I… I guess I get to discover that.” He pulled you into a kiss, it was a sudden moment, and Ned couldn’t help himself. That was damn near as close to a confession as he was going to get and he knew that – still, it was the best thing you could have possibly said. And you got to revel in him once more. He let you go with an embarrassed chuckle; “I’m sorry I just- Thank you. I think… I think you’re gonna really love ‘em, Y/N.” And the sooner the better, because all you’d done was make Ned want to discuss every single little detail with you.

Dinner was delicious – if there was something else Ned knew; it was exactly where to eat in this town – and as he drove you back to his place Ned kept his hand in yours. The radio was on quietly, and neither of you were really paying attention to it, until a familiar tune began playing. “Holy shit!” You sat up, overjoyed and turned the dial. Ned couldn’t help how hard he laughed; “Oh! Y/N! I think it’s your song!”

***

Ned had always been right, eventually you were going to go back to your favourite of his novels. You’d finally purchased your own copy of A Few Words Too Many – and he kept eagerly asking if you’d got very far. You continued teasing him that you’d only read a couple of pages, which for him was more than enough, and you were very reserved in the way you gushed over his writing style – yet were certainly gushing. And Ned was overjoyed at that; knowing this was just a taste of what he’d get out of you once you figured out he knew. In reality you were probably around half way through. It was getting raved about; this was the ‘one where he found himself’, the style was lighter, cleaner, Ned’s hope; rather than dark and murky despair that all his readers had grown accustomed to – where he questioned everything. They weren’t wrong, this was a different Ned Kendall; though his use of language was still gorgeous, it flowed with a different type of confidence and it was damn near unputdownable – and you were dating him! Every time you’d read another incredible line you’d have to mark it down, and sometimes it had you nearly screaming, or crying – on occasion they were very happy reactions. Somehow when you were absorbed in his world building, you could hardly believe that you were lucky enough to be with this man… And you knew that soon enough, you would have to confess to him, because you couldn’t keep this to yourself much longer.

What you had never counted on was Ned being curious about your taste in authors for himself. It probably should have occurred to you, but never did. So you found out he knew in a completely different way than either of you expected. You had a friend of yours staying over for a girls night in, and you hadn’t seen her for a while – given that she lived on nearly the other side of the country - she was one of your very best friends, and therefore knew nearly everything about you; including that Ned Kendall was ‘the greatest writer of all time’. To quote yourself. (When he wasn’t writing hilariously trashy erotic romance novels, although you had to be honest you enjoyed those too.) “Did you see your favourite author had a new book out-!?” “Hmm?” “That Ned Kendall bloke.” “Oh! Yeah-! I did...” It wasn’t common knowledge amongst your friends that Ned and yourself were dating, for obvious reasons. “Have you read it yet?” “No...” Well not all of it, you sighed and looked to your shelf; “Whenever I read his new stuff it always makes me go back to these. Don’t get me wrong his new books are good, but, there’s something incredibly haunting about the way he used to write.... a man... trying to tell you a secret... yet, never quite committing to it. A guy with a lot of complex issues. And I always felt that.” “So, would you recommend any-! I’ve never read them so, try me out!” You automatically went for Past Imperfect and held it out to her; “This is my favourite. And I go back to it time, and time, and time again...” “Why?” She gave a gentle smile of encouragement, genuinely curious as to your choice. “Just read the first page, you’ll know exactly why. It’s like suddenly an author was speaking to my soul. I can’t explain it...” You took a deep breath, feeling like you were spilling secrets you shouldn’t have been “I’ll, uh, get us some drinks!” Suddenly you were called back as she flipped through pages; “Have you met him-!?” “What?” You stepped through, eyebrow raised, what would cause her to ask that? That nearly panicked you – paparazzi shots? Was Ned even famous enough for that kind of thing-!?! “Met him-! You met him!? You never said-!?” You were about to deny it fervently, but were just as confused by her question when she turned the book around. You crossed to her, eyes wide, and grabbed it: “Y/N, all my love always, Ned x” You turned back to your book shelf suddenly horrified. Ned knew. He knew! He knew and he never said anything-?! Dammit-! Of course a writer would be interested in the kinds of books his significant other read! Maybe he was thinking about getting you to read that work for himself!! Is THAT why he’d been so disappointed at the book signing-!? When had he done this? More importantly, why had it taken you SO long to find it-!? “Y-Yeah.” You turned back to her, “I, uh, I went to a book signing when the latest one came out…” The temperature of your body was rising and you were already bright red, a dead give-away to mark you out as a liar – even though it wasn’t strictly untrue. She raised an eyebrow, and you knew nothing was about to get past her; “Y/N.” Or that tone of voice – now you were in trouble “And, uh… Uh…” You stammered, covering your flushed face with the book, “I’m… dating him!” “You’re WHAT-!?!” She yelled it, and dragged you down onto the sofa, “And you kept it from me-!? Bitch, hell no! Details NOW!!!”

***

Given the nature of your relationship and how much you liked being around each other, it wasn’t long until you found yourself on a lunch date with him. Ned was on a permanent high right now as it was; the novel was doing incredibly well, and that was spilling over into the way he talked to you, the way he texted you – even in the way you tangled together under his sheets. You wondered if you were about to add to that high. Well, you’d have to get through your own embarrassment first. Ned waved enthusiastically across the restaurant at you, sliding off his shades. Today he’d opted to sit outside, and it was a glorious day, warm with a good breeze, so he’d chosen the table well. “Hey gorgeous, how you doing?” He stood to kiss you in greeting, which meant you were blushing immediately. “I’m... I mean if I wasn’t such an idiot I’d be doing better, however, in context of the question I’m good!” You tucked your chair in as he sat down again, eyebrow raised; “Oh?” You immediately turned to your bag, and pulled the book out, dropping it on the table. You didn’t dare look at his face as you tapped your fingernails on the cover; “You- I- When did you do this!? H-How long have you known!?” He chuckled, leaning forward to trying to get you to look at him, taking your hands when you didn’t; “A good while, we hadn’t been together so long. But I knew it, I knew that’d be the novel you went back to.” Your head in fact dipped further, “Oh god, I feel so fucking stupid!!” “For not saying anything?” Ned titled his head, “Babe, you had your reasons I’m sure… now come on, look at me. You’re far too beautiful to show your face to just the table!” Although you were glowing, and all across your face read your embarrassment as you looked back to him slowly; “I-I guess I didn’t want you to think that I was with you… just because.” “Now where would you get that idea?!” He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, “Now I get to talk to you about my work, and you get to ask every question you’ve ever been dying to ask me ever! And thank god!” You shook your head, “You weren’t disappointed in the event, just in me for not asking anything…” You blinked a few times, “I should have realised that.” “Baby, it’s okay. Do it now. Do it now!” “You’re not mad!?” “God, no…” He shook his head, “Frustrated. Bursting to get you to confess – yes maybe – but not mad. I knew in good time we’d get there. And I will certainly be drinking to it!” Ned let your hands go and grabbed the wine menu. “…Will you be mad if I tell you how much of A Few Words Too Many I’ve read?” Ned glanced up slowly from the list; “You finished it yet?” “VERY nearly.” His eyes narrowed, but he smirked; “I knew a few pages was just a bluff. Real question is are you enjoying it as much as everyone else appears to be.” You leant on your hand and mused for a second, before smiling to answer him; “I am. It’s different for you… I guess I really fell for the darker spells in your past. But this… There’s so much hope in it. You learned a lot, I suppose, and this is the you now, that I get to be with. OH my god, though! Some of the lines and your humour?! It’s your best work for a while. Not… that I don’t enjoy everything you publish.” “I’ve come a little way since that one…” He nodded towards the book you’d placed on the table, but you noticed the faint blush now appearing on his cheeks; “Still, thank you. That’s very kind. I wondered what you’d think – you clearly reread everything.” You nodded, “Every time I find something else I never noticed before - your writing is quite honestly unique in that respect. At least from what I’ve read – you have anecdotes and maybe experience that allows you to write such a way but this-” You drew the novel to you; “The man in this, the man who wrote this, has affected me in a way no other work has. And now you’ve signed it!?” Your sigh was gentle, “I mean, I just want to sit here and thank you forever…” You covered your mouth suddenly, as if you’d been missing the point; “But-! NED! I just…! Oh my god, I know I should have said something! And you COULD have said something! But this makes me so glad you didn’t.” “What I wrote was okay, then?” You tucked your hair back and blushed again at his sweet smile, looking away from his amused blue eyes once more; “All my love always?” Did he want that? From you-!? How could that not be okay? “I just hope that we get to feel that way about each other… for a very long time.”

***

And so months’ worth of dating became years – and eventually you moved into that very same high rise apartment; and for the record, you still didn’t see what he was complaining about. You’d gotten the opportunity now to first round edit some scenes that he liked showing you, and a couple of his manuscripts. Ned still hadn’t released anything new for a while – because he said nothing was striking him with real inspiration. A couple of the manuscripts were even already finished, but, he said they just didn’t feel right to him - they needed something a little more and he’d come back to them. Then inspiration struck him from the most obvious place. Because you were right in front of him – and your relationship was a story in itself, even if he put it in fiction and changed it around. You were the kind of woman who he could easily make into a romantic lead everyone would fall for – and he could do right by a character like you. Suddenly Ned went from writing just a little every day, or every so often, to writing nearly the whole day through, even late into the night; when night became day again. You let him get on with his process, and supported him through it as best you could – which he couldn’t have appreciated more. One evening though, you leant on the back of his chair as he read over his latest scene, and had to enquire; “Who is keeping you away from me? She better be nice – you’ve written some truly awful women.” Though by now you knew a lot more about his past; and exactly why he’d written such things, “Mind you, your men aren’t usually angels either…” You mused, resting your head on his. Ned chuckled gently, reaching behind him to pull you onto his lap, “You’ll have to read it and find out.” “Awww-!” You whined, winding your arms around him and kissing his temple as he flipped the page, “Will you at least tell me what it’s about?” “You.” And he sounded deadly serious, still looking at the page as he said it You scoffed for a moment, “Me?” “Uh huh.” “Oh no! Come on! What’s it really about!” You pouted as his tease. Ned only smiled; “I said what I said!” “Alright-!” You threw your hands up but kissed him again, “Keep your secrets!” You continued to sit with him as he read however, head in the crook of his neck, running your hands over his chest affectionately. But every so often you’d chuckle. Because as IF, right!? Why would Ned want to write about you? What was special enough to be his muse in a novel like the kind he wrote? You supposed he’d make you wait until the final manuscript to find out what it was really about – but that joke in itself made you desperate to find out more. It was a couple of days later, when you were heading off to work, that Ned presented you with a few pages tied together in red ribbon; “Oh?” You took them from him delicately, “What’s this?” “Just a scene – you wanted to know a little about it. Well, I think this could be the one, so,” He nodded to it, “I wanted you to have the first piece, see what you think!” “Aw.” You held it close to your heart for a moment, before pushing up on your toes to kiss him; “Thank you!” “You’re welcome-! It’ll give you a work break.” “Ohhh-!” You grinned, opening the door, “I don’t think it’ll last until my break!!” You blew him one last kiss, “See you later Ned! I love you!” He held his hand up to wave, “Goodbye, Y/N! Have a good day – I’ll still be here when you get back!” You very nearly cackled; “Aw, heck I know! Write well Ned Kendall!” “God, I hope so!” He laughed after you, only closing the front door when he heard the elevator ping to announce it was picking you up. Ned knew exactly what he’d given you, the scene was a lot more subtle than most of what he’d written – where it would be more obvious that his muse was indeed you. But you’d been so adamant that he was joking with you that he didn’t want you to get it right away, Ned wanted you to read the novel and suddenly realise and gasp, and snap the novel shut, and maybe even throw it at him – and then cry. Sometimes you cried when you read his work; and there wasn’t a time that Ned Kendall loved you more than the raw emotion you displayed when you were transported away by a book. This one was special though, this wasn’t like any other novel he’d written that you’d loved. This one was his gift to you. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and then turned towards his guitar; it was cheap and worn, but he’d got it for only one specific reason. That favourite song of yours seemed to follow the both of you everywhere, at every single moment of significance. With this particular book being written, and another significant anniversary of yours coming up, Ned had taken time out of writing to learn that song, so that he might one day (soon, he hoped) be able to play it to you. He reached out to pick it up and made himself comfortable, smiling at the thought of you – and what your reaction would be when all of this finally came together. This would be his gift to you, too.

***

When it was finally a few days before he distributed it – you realised that Ned had hardly let you read any more of it than that single ribbon tied scene. And you’d never seen someone so excited as he was when the box of first editions arrived at his front door. Until he made you sit down. And placed a copy in front of you. It wasn’t in stores yet – meaning that this one was the very first book handed out. And Ned wouldn’t take no for an answer this time, you knew you couldn’t refuse him the gift. Play It Again You pulled it towards you, thick paper, and significant in volume – possibly one of the longest he’d written – hardcover, new book smell with that beautiful glossy cover. Your hands shook in anticipation, and he looked so proud. But also like you might break his heart at any moment. You looked for his go ahead to open it, but Ned had suddenly lost the ability to speak; all he could do was nod. You took a deep breath, and opened to the dedications page. Immediately your heart jumped from your chest, and you thought all your emotions were about to come out at once; culminating in tears. You were about to cry all over a brand new book. The first few lines were lyrics you recognised well, to your favourite song. The lines you loved the most. And underneath, in printed ink: “For Y/N, For all your support. From the very first lines I wrote, until now, I don’t think I’ve ever loved, or been loved the way you love me. All my love, always Ned x” Beneath his heartfelt dedication, fresh ink from his flowing signature. Just his name this time around. You covered your mouth for a moment, because you couldn’t speak either. This one was dedicated to you, in printed ink. Permanently. That message was there for all the world to see – everyone’s copy was going to have this exact same text. And you were speechless. You hid your face for a moment as your tears began to flow, but you knew they were happy ones – and his were too. Because Ned couldn’t watch you read this without crying either. “I love you so much, Y/N. How could this have been for anyone but you!?” You nodded, and he understood that you couldn’t form words yet – taking your hands in his, he sat opposite you, it all suddenly a little too much to take. Eventually you shakily managed a sentence, looking back to his face; “W-What is it about!?” For one, you needed to know the significance of those lyrics. Just for you, or because they meant something to the story? Ned wiped his eyes, with a beaming smile; “... You already asked me that...” “I did?” “I said I was writing about you. You said you didn’t believe me; you really should have...” Your eyes widened and you immediately flipped the book over. “No! No! Don’t read the end-! That’s cheating!” He places his hands over yours and you bit your lips together; “Why, Ned, what happens at the end...?” “Well,” he smiled again, “that would be telling.” His face was thoughtful for a second, “Let’s just say... this writer hopes it doesn’t have an ending.” You pulled your hands from his to lean on them, gazing up at him with sudden adoration. And your sigh was equally dreamy, “Well, I guess this reader also hopes there’s no end...”

--- Thank you for reading my write-r! 🙏💜