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writingsfromhome · 16 days

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Dos and Don’ts III

A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

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I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.

I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.

“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.

“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”

I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.

That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.

I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.

“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.

Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”

I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.

“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”

The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.

“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.

“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”

His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.

“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.

“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”

“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”

“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”

“I guess.”

“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.

I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.

“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”

“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”

“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.

He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”

“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”

“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”

I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.

By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.

It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.

“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.

“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.

“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”

I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”

“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.

“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.

Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.

“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.

I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.

The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.

“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.

“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”

“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”

“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.

“What?”

“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“

“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.

“Y/n don’t be difficult-“

“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”

“I’m not saying that-“

“Then what are you saying!?”

The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.

“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.

“I’m saying something needs to change.”

What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.

Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.

Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.

“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“

“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”

“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”

“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”

“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.

“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”

He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.

“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”

His voice raises as he talks.

“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“

“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.

“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”

There, I’d said it.

His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.

“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“

“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”

“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”

Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.

“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“

“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?

Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.

“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“

“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”

I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?

“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”

I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.

Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.

The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.

And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.

I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.

You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.

I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.

Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.

I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.

It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.

***

The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.

I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.

I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.

I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.

As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.

So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.

I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.

“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”

He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.

“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”

“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”

“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.

“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”

He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”

“They so do.” I reply.

“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”

“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.

“I will,” I accept his challenge.

“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”

“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”

“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.

“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.

“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”

He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.

I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.

I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.

When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.

“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.

“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.

He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”

When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.

“Sure?” I respond.

Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”

I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”

“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”

He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.

I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.

I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.

“What do you need?” I come up behind him.

“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”

“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”

He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.

“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.

“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”

A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.

We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.

“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”

He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.

“Touché mon amie.”

“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.

“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.

“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”

“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”

We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”

“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”

“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.

I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”

“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”

“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.

“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”

“Like what?”

“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”

“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.

“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”

It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.

“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”

“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.

“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”

“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.

“Really?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”

“You’re interested in it?”

“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”

“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”

“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”

“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.

“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”

“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”

“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.

“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”

I happily oblige.

We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.

“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.

“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”

“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”

“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”

“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“

“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”

“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.

“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”

“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”

“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”

“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”

I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”

“Bullshit?!”

“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.

“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”

Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.

“Fine. If you want to hear it.”

“I do.”

“I got into a fight with Gray.”

He raises a brow, I continue.

“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”

“Flatmate with benefits.”

“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”

“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.

“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“

“Mhm,” he nods along.

“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”

“The old silent on the home front.”

“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”

I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.

“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.

“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”

“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.

“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”

“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.

“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”

“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”

“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”

His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”

“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”

“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”

“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”

“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”

I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”

“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”

Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.

“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”

“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“

“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”

I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.

“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.

I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.

“Y/n? Y/n!?”

“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.

“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.

I hear him, panicked, on the phone.

“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“

“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.

“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.

A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.

“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.

“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.

“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.

“No you’re getting checked out.”

“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”

He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”

“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”

“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.

Harry’s POV:

I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.

I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.

The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.

I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.

It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.

“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.

I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…

“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”

“But?”

“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“

“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.

“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“

“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”

He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.

“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”

We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.

I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.

She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.

The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.

Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.

I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.

I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.

I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.

With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.

Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”

My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.

“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.

“We should never do nothing again.”

“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.

“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“

Her mouth parts. She was asleep.

I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.

I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.

Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.

I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.

I pick up.

“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“

“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“

“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”

I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.

This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.

“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”

The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.

I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.

“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“

The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.

“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“

“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”

Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?

“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.

“I thought-“

“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.

I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.

I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.

But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.

Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.

With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.

I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.

I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.

Y/N’s POV:

I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.

I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.

“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?

“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”

“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.

The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!

I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.

I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.

I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.

Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.

You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better

Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better

Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs

H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead

Y: when did you get your md

H: same time you got yours

Y: I have an md?

H: being stubborn 101

Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text

H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face

Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee

He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.

I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.

We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.

Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.

My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.

I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.

I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.

My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.

“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”

“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”

“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”

“But he never said. He never talked to me.”

She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”

I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”

She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.

“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”

“Was there heart?” She asks gently.

There wasn’t.

That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.

“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.

“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.

“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”

“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”

“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”

“Well Jace better be treating her right.”

“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”

Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.

“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.

Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.

I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.

***

I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.

It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.

I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.

“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.

“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“

“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”

“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.

We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.

“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”

On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.

I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.

“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.

“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”

She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.

“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.

“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”

I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”

“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”

“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.

I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.

“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”

“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”

“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”

“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”

“Yeah!”

“Goals,” I sigh.

Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.

The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.

“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”

“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”

“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.

He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.

Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!

Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”

Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.

“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”

“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”

He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.

“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”

“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.

A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.

As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.

Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.

I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.

***

The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.

I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!

I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.

I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.

“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.

“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.

“Hmmm half past 7?”

He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.

“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.

“I’ll be the one here missing you.”

“I’ll call every chance I get.”

“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.

“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.

“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.

“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.

“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.

“Just behave,” I warn him.

“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.

After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.

***

Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.

I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.

For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).

But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.

My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.

I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.

“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”

“Did something happen?” I ask.

She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”

I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.

“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”

“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”

“What to do when you act like one.”

“You know what-“

“Woah hey c’mon.”

I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.

“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.

Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.

He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I could see it in your face.”

“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”

“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”

“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.

It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.

“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.

“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”

“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”

“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.

“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.

“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“

“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”

It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.

“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.

I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.

“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.

“No I’m trying to call the pope.”

“He might be sleeping.”

He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“

“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“

“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”

“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.

“I don’t need you right now just go.”

“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.

“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.

“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”

“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”

His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.

The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.

But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.

I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.

“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”

I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.

“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”

The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.

I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.

“It is,” someone else says.

“Who?” Claire asks.

“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”

“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.

“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.

“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”

Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.

I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.

I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.

“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”

“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”

Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.

I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.

He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.

Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”

“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.

He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.

“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks.

“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”

“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.

“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”

“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.

“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“

“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”

I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”

“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”

We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.

“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”

“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”

We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.

We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.

A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.

Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.

Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.

“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”

The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.

As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.

“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”

“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.

That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.

“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”

“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.

“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”

“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.

“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”

“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”

Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.

“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“

Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.

“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”

“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”

Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.

“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”

“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.

“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”

“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…

“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.

Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”

“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“

“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”

“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.

This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“

“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”

“Yeah but why-“

“Good.”

He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.

I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.

“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.

“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.

“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”

They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.

It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.

***

After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.

And I wanted Gray.

I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.

I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.

I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.

I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.

I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.

I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.

I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.

“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”

Gray.

“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”

“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”

“I know I-“

“I thought I imagined you.”

“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.

Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?

“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”

“About?”

“About.”

“Gray! What was I right about?”

“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”

“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?

“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”

My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.

“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”

I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.

He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.

***

It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.

What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.

Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.

I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.

I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.

Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,

“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”

“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-

“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”

“Oh I love Copenhagen…”

And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.

As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.

“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”

She raises a brow, “moves?”

“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”

Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”

“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.

“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.

“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”

“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.

“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”

I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.

“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.

“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”

It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.

“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”

I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”

“Bex!” Someone scolds her.

“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”

“That’s not true-“

“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”

They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”

It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.

“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.

“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”

“Sorry,” she says, quieter.

“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”

I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.

But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.

I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.

Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.

When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.

“Hey.”

“How was brunch?”

It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?

“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.

“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”

“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”

“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”

“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”

He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.

“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”

“Let’s just drop it-“

“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”

He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.

“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”

It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!

“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”

“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”

“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“

“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”

I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.

I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.

I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.

Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.

The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.

He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.

It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.

Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.

If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.

With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.

I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.

It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.

New tears. Less breaths.

“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”

Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.

“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.

The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.

I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.

“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.

“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”

“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.

“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.

I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.

We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.

I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.

I keep it on.

I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.

I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.

Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.

The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.

I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.

“What happened to your hand?” He asks.

I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.

“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you get it checked?”

“No.”

“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”

“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”

“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.

“Mhm,” I nod.

He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”

I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.

“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”

“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.

“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.

Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.

***

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #dos and donts #harry styles au #like I’m actually annoyed I had to split this up #because it’s supposed to get more interesting #ugh tumblr and its word limit…#musician!harry #well excited to finish the final part tho

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blegh-110 · 4 months

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How would reader react to Tangerine coming home sick or injured? We already know he would baby the hell out of her if roles were reversed but would she try and take care of him if he needed help?

okay, so the reader in general has a very, very big heart. no matter who the person is, she will always feel for them, and she hates that. she thinks its a weakness of hers. even if its a person she hates, she cant stand seeing them in any kind of pain, she just gets no satisfaction from that.

so when tangerine comes stumbling through the front door, groaning with cuts all over his arms and bruises forming all over his face, the first thing reader feels is shock. she always sees tangerine come back from a mission with a bruise or two, and usually a bloody nose. thats all. and he is able to carry himself with no issue. but he just looked horrible. his lip was busted, both eyes beginning to bruise, as well as his cheeks. he had abandoned his blazer, only wearing his white button up, but it was absolutely drenched in blood and shredded up, like he was constantly being sliced up.

she covers her face and cringes when tangerine bumps himself into the table and doubles over, cursing in pain. not knowing what to do, she curled herself up on the couch with peach, not wanting to be seen by him. luckily, he passes by very slowly into the kitchen. every step and groan is torture for her.

the last straw for her was seeing tangerine bring out a giant bottle of rubbing alcohol and poor it directly over his the cuts on his arms. she jumps out off of the couch, placing a confused peach where she sat, and quickly walked to the kitchen.

"tangerine, stop it!"

he flinches when hearing you, thinking you were asleep upstairs.

"what are you doin' up so late?" he asks with furrowed eyebrows. he takes your sleep schedule very seriously. he knows you worked yourself to the bone and barely slept before bringing you into his life. not even getting the recommended minimum time.

"i dont know, i couldnt sleep. dont put this stuff on your cuts, it doesnt actually help."

tangerines heart speeds up he feels your hands gently grab his arm and bring it over the sink.

"wash it with water and soap instead, okay" you look up at him to make sure hes paying attention only to see he was already staring at you. even with the handful of bruises and blood on his face, he was still the most handsome man youve ever seen. you cough and bring your attention back to his arm.

"cool water, okay?"

"okay"

after cleaning the cuts on his arms, you ask him to clean the ones on his chest and stomach himself. you couldnt bring yourself to even think about doing it, you know youd get distracted.

the most you did was clean the blood off of his face, and even that was difficult. being so close to him and holding his face in your hands. the way tangerine closed his eyes and sighed when you brushed his hair back will forever be engrained into your mind. you couldnt resist doing it again just to hear his pretty sighs and feel his hair running through your fingers. this was the perfect moment to feel him without actually giving into his advances, and you took it.

after cleaning his bloodied cheek, you couldnt stop yourself from softly brushing over it with your thumb. after the last swipe, you had to pull yourself away before you did something you know youd regret.

"okay, i think thats good"

tangerine nodded his head, a little dazed from all your touches. you felt a little giddy to have affected him this much.

"thank you so much, my love" and he ends the night with his hands cradling your neck and a kiss to your cheek.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #bullet train #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine blurb #aaron taylor johnson #flightless bird thoughts<3

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daddysuga101 · 1 year

Text

One day soon....

Suguru Geto x Fem reader

Warnings: Love fucking, breeding kink, Suguru is a bad guy, Readers first time, possesive behavior, Suguru and reader are both lowkey codependent

Red light runs over the expanse of your closed eye lid and you find yourself groaning at it's intrusion.

You blink your eyes open weakly to find you are no longer half dead on a battle field but now in a semi comfortable bed. You groan trying to sit up, it hurts.

Everything hurts, like god himself ran you over with a train 40 different times. You groan in pain when a jolt of a memory hits you harder than the ache your body has.

The memory of Suguru being there. You didn't think he'd be there. It felt too soon to see him. Sure you knew the odds of running into him or any of his people weren't zero but god you were thrown off guard when you saw him.

That lapse in logical thinking is how you ended up here, tired and bruised, all because of his men that did this to you.

Which is his fault by proxy.

Damn him.

Damn Surguru Geto.

"I didn't think you'd be awake yet.” A voice says freezing you where you are. “But you always were pretty resilient." Suguru says taking a seat next to you.

You stare at him wide eyed in shock that he was here. Fuck he was here. You weren't ready for this.

He wordlessly brings a water bottle to your lips urging you to drink. You didn't wanna drink, but your throat was so dry you had too. You release a shakey sigh as the cool liquid runs down your throat. Suguru watches you carefully seemingly ready to fetch you more water if need be.

"I'm fine." You say, your voice rather hoarse. He nods putting the water away on the night stand.

"It's good that you can talk. I was worried it’d be a minute before you could. That was quite the hit you took you know? Thought you died on me for a second." Suguru tried joked but there's no humor behind his words. You try to sit up on your elbows once again, your head throbbing as you did so.

"Would it matter? It'd be one less person in your way of global dominonation. Should've just killed me. Could have made your whole life a lot easier." You say dryly, bitterly. Surguru’s eyebrows furrow.

"Dont say something like that-."

"Where are we Suguru?" You asked seriously. He runs a hand through his hair.

"A hotel, more like motel I guess. After you got hurt, I brought you here to rest." He tells you.

"Does anyone know were here?"

"Of course not." He says with a small chuckle. "No, no one knows." You nod. You're not sure why you aren't terrified of him right now. Maybe it's the fact he's staying a reasonable distance from you or the fact you spent 7 years of your life growing up together. Either way you weren't scared.

Not like you should be that scared anyway. You weren't the type of people he wanted gone, plus it was his goons that attacked you and your friends anyway.

"I know you're probably pissed right now but I assure you, you were only collateral. You were never meant to be hurt by any of my guys." Geto says seemling honest as he hands sits onto the bed. You don't look at him choosing instead to stare at the wall.

Anything is better than looking at him.

“What happened to the guy that did this to me?” You asked not sure you wanted to really know the answer.

“He was delt with.”

“You killed him.” You accuse.

“Yes.” He agrees. There's not the smallest hint of regret in his voice at his confession. Not a shred of remorse for the life he took so carelessly.

That man who hurt you wasn't good, but the idea of Suguru killing him for hurting you feels like you're responsible for his death by proxy and well...

Well, that doesn't feel very good.

"Y/n." He says his voice barely not a whisper. The wall still seems very interesting so you don't look away from it. But when Suguru grabs your chin and turns your head towards him it's like your body can't stop itself from complying.

His long hair is down covering his bare shoulders. He's half naked, his torso exposed while his lowerbody is covered by thin pajama pants. His eyes are dark and piercing, the kind of eyes that reach into your soul and rip something out everytime they lock with your own.

"Are you leaving again?" It’s a stupid question you know it because you know he will. He can't stay. He was never going to stay. Hell, it's not like he'd even be with you right now if you weren't hurt.

"You know I have to."

You scoff pushing your covers off trying to get to your feet. You don't wanna be here anymore.

Not with him. Looking at him feels like a million spikes being lodged into the void of your heart he once filled.

"Sit back down you are not well enough." Suguru ordered, you tilt your head at him and scoff.

"I'm sorry to be the one who tells you this but you don't get to tell me what to do. Not after what you did." You say stubbornly but when you stand, the dizziness is too much and makes you sit back down almost immediately.

"I apologize that you were caught in the cross fire Y/n seriously, I had no idea you'd even be there." He says.

"Don't apologise. I don't need a babysitter Suguru. And I'm not some weak helpless damnsal who needs you to look after her despite what you might think.

The silence between you is deafening it's thick, like a block of invisible ice separating the two of you. You lie back down, your back now to Suguru. But still very keenly aware of his presence.

It's been only a month since Suguru killed his parents and went off on his own to 'cleanse' the world of non-sorcerers.

You remember it so vividly, the day he came stumbling into your dorm covered in blood. You remember freaking out asking if he was all right. And him telling you had nothing to worry about because it wasn't his. You remember how he told you about his master plan.

How he was going to fix this world. He confessed he murdered his parents. He confessed to wanting all non sorcerers dead.

He wanted you to understand, to somehow empathize with him and his logic. But he knew when your eyes filled with tears and you stared at him like he was a monster that you wouldn't come with him.

He wanted to ask. He needed to know if you would but that wasn't the time to ask. But when could it be?

He terrified you in that moment. He wasn't Suguru. Polite, thoughtful Suguru. He was scary.

He was evil.

Your eyes weld at the memory of him leaving your room. He didn't hurt you. But he was hurt. You could tell. A lone tear spilled from your eye but you quickly wiped it.

This wasn't how you're reuion was supposed to go. You hoped one day he'd come back, go to prison for his crimes and redeem himself the best he could.

But that was a pipe dream and you knew it.

Another tear falls and you can't hold back your sobs anymore.

You began crying harder and harder your body rocking with the force of your cries. You feel the mattress dip and warm body presses against your back wrapping strong arms around you.

This gesture makes you cry more because it reminds you of the innocence he once had as that ignorant bright eyed boy.

And even though this touch feels like him. That boy he once was is gone.

You cry some more as Suguru rubs and pets you until you finally stop shaking.

It's really dark out now. The silence no longer filled by your sobs or sniffiles. Only the low hum of the old motel air conditioning is what keeps the room from being dead quiet.

"You said I thought you were weak. That isn't what I think you know?" Geto says into the dark still room. You let out a shuddered breath your hands squeezing down on Sugurus forearm, your nails pressing into the pale expanse of his skin .

You hold onto him so hard.

You hold onto him like he'll fly away if you let go and you know he will go soon. He'll leave you again, abandon you, and all you can do is patheticly hold into him, hoping he cares enough about you to stay. To fix his mistakes.

"I don't know what you think anymore." You say finally. Geto let's out a sigh his hold tightening around your waist.

This is different. Such a forgien feeling. Suguru and you hardly if ever touched because that's just not how the two of you were. You were so close but the only time you can remember him holding you like this was after a particularly dangerous mission you went on that nearly costed you your life.

You remember returning home battered and bruised and you remember Suguru wordlessly pulling you into a tight embrace holding you like if he let go you'd fall apart.

But this hug. It's a hug not familiar to the two of you. It's so intimate and naked. It makes you feel like his trying to absorb you. Like he trying to crawl into your skin.

"Look at me."

"Suguru." You whispered, his head lying on your shoulder. As he tells you again.

"Look at me." You do this time. Turning your body around to finally face him properly for the first time tonight.

"You have to know. You have to know I'm leaving but not because I want to. It's because I have too. For our friends. For our families." He pauses. "For us."

"For us." You repeat. You like the word 'us' in terms of you and Suguru. It slips off your lips like a prayer you've prayed a thousand times. But it's not real.

"There is no us Suguru. Not when you're about to abandon me again, not when you're about to do more bad things." You say pulling from his warm embrace. A weak part of you wants to run back into his arms but you don't. Instead you stand to your feet ignoring your bodies protest, and storm out the motel room all but slamming the door behind you.

You feel new warm tears fill your eyes as you lean against the balcony railing. Tears forming so hot, and heavy in your eyes.

The door to the motel room opens behind you and you see him approach you in a vending machine reflection. His shirt is on now just unbuttoned. You watch him, watch you through the reflection tilting his head in earnest.

"Someone once told me that to be happy i’d have to chase after the things and people that made me happy." Suguru says. "That was you. You told me that."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means that deep down you understand. Even if this hurts you know why I'm doing it. I'm doing it for you." Suguru says approaching you closer.

"You’re doing it for yourself."

"I'm doing this for a better tomorrow. So our children live in violent free world. So their kids won't even know what suffering is. That's the world I want." He says his large hands circling your waist the second time tonight making your breath hitch.

"And I will carve out every worthless non-sorcerer monkey I have to to achieve that."

"You can't do that to innocent people!” You say turning to finally face him. And now that you wished you hadn't, because the way he stares down at you. The way he makes you feel small yet so big all at once. The way his gaze breaths life into your lungs is intoxicating.

But he's not good.

It's so hard to condemn him when your heart beats fast in your chest. Your soul wanting him, knowing him.

"What about innocent sorcerers that have to fight those curses because of non-shamens? What about our lives? I'm tired of watching people I love die Y/n. And so help me god, if I can help it. You won't die by the hands of a curse." His hand raises up to cup your check in a gentle touch that warms your heart so much you might die.

"You'll grow old and your skin will wrinkle. Your smile lines will be more prominent because you would have lived a long life." He says his hair blowing gently in the soft breeze. He looks at you like you're a diamond in a world of mud. His thumb caresses your face so soft, and so gentle as he places a kiss on your lips.

You gasp into his mouth. It's no secret you wanted him or that you were attracted to him. But this kiss somehow feels cruel. To give you something you've longed for knowing you'll never have it again.

The kiss distracts you from all of that though. Just for a second.

His lips are soft and firm against your own as he steals this kiss from you. You don't push him away you let his lips caress your own. You let his hand get curious and rest on your hips. But other than that the kiss is so gentle, it breaths a promise of forever into you.

It almost makes you sick because it's not forever. And you both know that.

At that thought. Your face warms with desire and anger.

“Come with me.” He says. You shake your head.

“You know I can't.” You tell him.

“Then wait for me, wait for me to make it all better. Wait for me to come back to you.” He begs. You shake your head your heart breaking in your chest.

"Youre abandoning me again." You cry patheticly.

"I'm not abandoning you Y/n. I'm making you the life you deserve. But you can come with me. We can do this together we can build this world together.”

You shake your head.

"I didn't ask for this Suguru. And you keep saying you need to build a better world for me. For our future. But this..this choice you're making. This isn't for me..its for you." You say firmly. He opens his mouth to speak but you push passed him heading to the motel room and grabbing your discarded clothes from the floor.

You turn to leave, Suguru standing right behind you his eyes holding an uncharacteristic desperation in them.

"Please. Don't do this."

"Suguru."

"Please. Please." He begs, following you to the door effectively blocking it.

"Move Suguru." You say.

"Please, just please! Okay please don't leave yet I'm not ready to lose you yet." He says softly. And almost so pathetic you want to hold him forever as he cries. But you deserve more. You deserve better.

"You’re leaving anyway. And you know I won't come with you. What difference does it make if I leave your first?” You ask, he swallows harshly his eyes filling with tears. His lips form a small pout and he falls to his knees in front of you. His arms hugging your waist like a child who was told he couldn't get a toy from the store.

He cries so hard his soaks the front of your battered uniform. He pleads and cries and asks you to just stay the night because you both know when you leave you won't see him, not for a while anyway.

"I know I'm leaving soon. And I know you're angry because in your eyes, I’ve made some fucked up choices. And I hurt you. I didn't want to Y/n I swear to god." He said sobs still racking his body. You felt bad.

You hated seeing him sad. It killed you.

He knew it killed you because it killed him to feel like this. If you walked away he'd die. He wanted, no, needed you to choose him.

"Please stay. Please Y/n." He cried. Your own tears started spilling as Suguru stood to his feet once again, his eyes staring at you with a thousand thoughts behind them.

He kisses you again. His hands no longer as reluctant and gentle as before, but more forceful and agitated. He feels you through your clothes. He gropes and pulls on your body parts like he'll die if he doesn't.

His lips carve the memory of their softness into the cells of your skin sucking and biting your neck. Hoping if you do choose humanity over him, you'll never forget him or his touch.

"Stop Suguru." You patheticly say, not really sure you mean it. He ignores you, pulling you to the old more than likely filthy bed making you straddle his lap. He's kissing you again rougher still. More desperate.

His hands are on your hips grinding your lower body into his. He wants you to feel that he is growing under his pajama pants. And you do. God you do.

"I'm not perfect. And I know you fucking hate me for what I did. But if you walk away now, I won't be able to have you back. So please." He whispered his hands roaming your shape like he needs to memorize it before it's gone.

His hands are groping the flesh of your breasts and ass over your clothes. His face is flushed with a desire you've never really seen from him before.

Lust.

No not lust. Something scarier than lust.

Something you two can't admit to yourselves, least it hurt too much.

His eyes plead up at you so innocently, that his hands fondeling you feels almost as innocent as a gentle touch. His hands on your breasts feel like a soft kiss on the forehead.

Only Suguru Geto could make you feel like that. Only he could touch you like this and make you feel all dirty yet so pure. And you hate your body and your mind and your fucking self for how bad you want to never have him let go. You want him to hold you so tight it suffocates and kills you.

He rolls you on your back kissing you again. You've never been kissed like this before and it scares you. It scares you how your legs part to accommodate him as lies in between them kissing your lips like it's his god given right to do so.

There's only fabric between the two of you. He's hard and heavy in his pants and you're hot and tight needing to be filled by him.

He pulls away his hair falling over the two of you as he looks down at you his face flushed.

"I'm getting too excited." He says stopping his menstruations on your body. "You have to tell me to stop because if you don't. I won't be able to hold back."

You look at him. His breath shallow and his face so beautiful. How could you refuse him?

"I don't want you to hold back." You admit in a whisper. His breath hitches and he kisses you yet again. He strips your shirt off his eyes going wide like a 13 year old boy seeing bare boobs online for the first time.

You wanna cover yourself from his intense gaze, but he catches your wrist as it moves to cover your exposed chest.

“Don’t you ever hide this perfect body from me.” He says seriously. You close your eyes in embarrassment as he grabs at your tits. Slapping them around, lifting them up and watching them fall back into place. He watches in awe at how sexy they look. How cute your nipples look, all hard and needing a warm mouth around them. God you had no idea how bad he just wanted to play with them for hours.

But he needs more and so do you. Which is why once he forces his attention from your tits his hands move down your body more or less ripping your panties off to begin rubbing your clit.

You yelp, grabbing his wrist but he doesn't let up.

"You're so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect. You have no idea how much self control it took me to not put my cock in you all these years." He admits. You moan as his rubs your clit so hard and so fast you know you won't last.

"But it was more than me wanting to fuck you. I cared about you. I still do." He tells you, pulling his cock out of his pants. He gives his hard erection a few tugs lining it up with your enterance kissing you again before pushing inside you.

You both moan. The sound sounds as if it's being forced out of you both like the two of you couldn't hold it back if you tried. Suguru rested his head in the crook of your neck his hips snapping into your own at a firm steady pace.

"So fucking warm baby." He praises breathlessly. You want to compliment him too but the drag of his cock in you makes it hard to even think.

"So perfect. You were made for me. You fit me like a puzzle piece. Made to take my cock, to take my seed." He says the last part a little quieter. Like he's embarrassed by how the idea of you baring his kids gets him excited.

"No way you're knocking me up asshole." You tried to joke but it came out as more of a breathy moan. He chuckled.

"You wouldn't stop me though. Because you want it too." You don't respond to his accusation because truthfully you don't know what to say to that.

Suguru doesn't notice they way you begin contemplating the idea of having a family with him. He just keeps rutting into you a small smile growing on his lips at a thought.

"Hey, if I get you pregnant you'll be stuck with me. Tied to me forever, right? I might just fuck my cum inside if that'll make you mine. I wanna put a kid in you that looks like me. I want it to remind you of me." Suguru confesses his thrusts becoming more violent and rough.

"I wanna see these tits full of milk. I wanna suck on them when they get full and sore. I wanna watch our kid start to resemble you as it gets older."

"I wanna look at them and think 'they look just like their momma'" Suguru says softly. So softly it feels wrong.

It feels wrong because he's not fucking you like a doting husband who wants you to bare his kids. He's fucking you like you're his personal porn star made for his cock.

But they way he speaks. The way he looks down at you.

It's like this is more than just a good fuck.

It's like you're lovers on their honey moon trying to get pregnant. But you aren't lovers, and you aren't on your honey moon. You're just two horny people saying goodbye with their bodies in the most intimate way.

"Am I your first?" He asks abruptly. You nod biting your lip. You didn't think you’d loss it like this but you also aren't mad he's the one that's taking it. It was always his after all.

He smiles so wide at this revelation, so creepily it almost scared you but he kisses your fear away.

"Y/n, when you leave me tonight, you should know that while I'm gone. If you let another man inside you like this. If you let another man put his naked cock in you just like mine is in you right now, their dead. Their fucking dead, I'll skin them alive. Rip them limb from limb slowly, and make them suffer for touching you." Suguru says. A part of you wants to think he's joking or just in the moment, but you know he's telling the truth. The way he's looking at you.

You know he wants to claim you.

He wants to own you.

"Maybe I should find a way to put a cursed seal on this pussy. Keep men away from it. Keep it nice and aching for me till I get back. Make sure it stays just for me." Suguru says.

"I won't let anyone else Sugu! Just you, I won't let anyone else touch me." You say kissing Suguru. You feel his hips stutter as he eyes roll back.

There's an evolutionary, animalistic, masculine need to breed you coursing through his veins. To fuck his cum so deep its absorbed into you. He wants that.

He meant it when he said he wanted to get you pregnant. He wants to see what your baby would look like. He wants to watch you nurse and help you raise it.

But he can't have that now.

But not in this world.

Not this world of curses and weaknesses caused by non-sorcerers. But a world of strength and human advancement. That's the world he wants your kid to live in.

So reluctantly and bitterly he pulls his cock out and spurts hot cum all over your naked stomach. He quickly starts licking and sucking your pussy pushing you over the edge too. He loves how when you cum you drench him in your essence.

He's so grateful for it. He just wants to lick and suck your pussy till his mouth has your taste burned in his mind.

He wants you to be burned in his mind.

He sighs licking his lips as his fingers spread his now cold cum over your belly with one phrase in his head in his head.

In sometime soon. Maybe not today or tomorrow or even the next five years. He'll build the world you deserve.

He rests his tired body on top of yours as he kisses your cheek his hand resting over your womb.

'One day.'

#suguru geto smut #smut #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto smut #getou smut #anime smut #x reader

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writingoddess1125 · 5 months

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Deal with the Devil

This is honestly just a Comedy no idea what this is 🤣

GNReader x AU Demon Buggy

Art Belongs to Vamos_MK on Twitter!

If you like Click Here <-

"You Fucking Asshole!" (Y/N) screamed, Tossing their phone across the room as you stood there.

Your Rotten Bastard of a Boyfriend- Best to say Ex now!

You'd done everything for him.. wrote his resume, got him job interviews, washed his crusty underwear!

He had wrecked your apartment, drained your saving all for what? The hope of God damn magic!

Yes Fucking magic-

He was a pinterest board having Half ass 'Witch' that claimed he was of a Witch blood line.

Maybe it was that Witch bloodline that lead him to stick his dick in some random as twink at the Bar!

"Fuck You!" You screamed in the air, sobbing as you rushed to your liquor cabinet- It wasn't like you had much but you grabbed the quarter bottle of vodka and the rum. It would do-

Playing terrible break up music you drank away your sorrows- Sobbing hysterically into your carpeted livingroom floor as you finished the vodka, You tossing the empty bottle across the room causing it to shatter.

Stumbling up, you waddle to the kitchen- in state deciding a cup was finally smart-

In you drunken stooper you grabbed a 711 cup from the counter wanting to pour more booze in it- but pausing when you saw it. Your EX's book of shadows- Aka a Dollar Tree Notebook were he stashed his stupid spells and random pages he pirated from the internet. Picking it up and getting ready to throw it in the trash with the rest of your EX's shit when you finally sober up-

But opened it randomly seeing a folded up peice of paper tucked I to the sides. Rolling your eyes you open it and see a well worn page, however it wasn't ancient by any means- the witches.com emblem in the corner cluing you in to that. But in big bold letters on the top said 'SUMMON A DEMON TO DO YOUR BIDDING!' Easy how to guide.

Fuck it- What did you have to lose! Your drunken hazy mind reasoned. Flicking the Dollar Tree book to an random page and tossing it down on the coffee table-

Looking through you saw the ingredients needed. Food, A liquid, lighter, a Vessel and DNA. Chuckling at the rather basic guide you plopped down and poured off a quarter of your bottle of Rum in the 711 cup-

"We recommend 'moon water'- Welp you're getting Captian Morgan-" You laugh as you pour more of the rum into your mouth, hissing at its burn as you look at the next instructions.

"Alright food- We recommend a herb or item you have a dee- fuck that" You grumble looking around and seeing some leftovers from the corner store. Taking the stale hotdog that had been on your table far too long.

"Fuck it- A hotdog will do" You said with a cackle as you shoved it into the cup without care.

"Now play music to set your intent-" You read, Laughing at the weirdness of this all.

"Music huh! Then we shall play the song of my God damn love life!"

With a crying laugh, you opening up your music app and playing what felt appropriate- Circus Music.

"Now last add DNA- May it be hair, Blood, nails. Ha! Yeah right. Got your DNA right here-" You say and spit into the 711 cup like a redneck spitting chew.

(DONT DO THIS AT HOME) after this you look at the instructions- 'Light the alcohol on fire and focus on your intentions' Pulling a lighter out you set the alcohol ablaze and sat there letting the circus music and smell of burning plastic and hotdogs fill your senses.

'I want to get fucked up and beat up a fucking loser!-' Was the only thing you thought before starting to feel yourself starting to black out. Not noticing the flames beginning to burn a bright blue as the shadows of the room wirled around you and took a solid mass.

Soon a shadowy figure eclipsed your form as a the smell of candy apples filled the room.

"HOW ARE YOU SUMMON THE GREAT AND MIGHTY BUGGY THE CLOWN DE-...." He stopped during his monolog and stared at his summoner- passed out on the couch infront of the coffee table while holding the now out lighter used to summon him and a half burned plastic cup, slouched over in a clearly drunken stooper and groaning loudly from discomfort. Waving his hand it detached and tossed the dirty cup into the sink noting the piles of moldy dishes that stopped the fire- Buggy glanced around now, noticing the dirty apartment and disgusting everything of the place.

He cringed at the sight- Looking to you and shaking your shoulder to catch your attention.

"Oi- You. Please tell me you aren't the fucker who summoned me-" He begged, watching you roll your head around confused stating up at the man before you. He wore what looked like a pirate get up- with a bright cherry nose and bright blue hair that reminded you of the sea-

You opened your mouth, prepared to tell this dude to get out of your house- Before that oh so familiar feeling hit you and you puked all over his pants and shoes in a aray of alcohol and chips.

The man giving a short scream at this as he stood there petrified.

"I'm sorry-" You managed before passing out. Leaving the clown standing there with a look of total disgust on his face as he stared at the fresh vomit all over him.

"YOUVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #demon au #Demon Buggy #Spotify

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zukotheartist · 5 months

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LONG tbosas (book, mostly) post ahead, about Reaper Ash specifically

A lot of people, rightfully, point out when Reaper cuts Panem's flag and throws it on the dead kids but something that gets to me as well (that I think is a really nice touch and should be talked about more) is his other uses of the flag (in the book, anyway).

The first time he cuts the flag, it's to bargain with Lamina.

Yes, he's doing it for himself because his mentor* won't send him food (or water) unless he puts on a good show (aka killing or at least attacking another tribute), which he isn't doing, and it's been days so he needs to eat (if I remember correctly, he had been able to get a few of Lucy Gray/Jessup's extra/leftover water bottles). But he was strong and big enough to hunt down another tribute and then steal their food. Not Lamina, probably, I don't think a big guy would be able to climb a pole that well? (I feel like that'd be easier for a smaller-skinnier person like Coral but idk, i dont climb lol). Regardless, he couldve hunted any of the tributes that were on the ground.

Instead, he notices that Lamina is heavily sunburned (enough for the skin on her nose to be chipping away) and tells her that he'll get her a blanket (piece of flag) to cover herself with, in exchange for some food.

Then he cuts another piece of the flag to cover his dead peers (and ofc that's the main use of it and the most important one).

But then he also cuts a piece of the flag... for HIMSELF. Not to use as a shield from the sun or to wrap a wound or any other "logical" or "useful" reason.

He drapes the cloth on his back and wraps it around his neck.

He makes a CAPE.

And what does he do, right after?

He twirls around and tries to look back at the cape as he's twirling. Then he runs up and down a bit, with his arms out-stretched, letting the cape fly behind him.

And the next time we see him? He's still wearing the cape.

That moment speaks VOLUMES imo.

A lot of people have pointed out that Suzanne Collins does the complete opposite of the usual tropes placed upon black characters: the girls aren't the caretakers, they're the ones being taken care of by other characters (Katniss and Rue + Tresh and Rue + Reaper and Dill) and the boys aren't treated as agressive fully grown men ready to attack, they're depicted as kind and righteous boys who don't wanna cause harm > the way they show it with Reaper (tho we also see it with Tresh) is soo so... idk, I don't have the words for it.

Not only does he apologise, before the game starts, to all the tributes for having to kill them and also promises them that he'll fight the Capitol and avenge them, to then refusing to murder them during the game.

Not only does he respect his peer's dead bodies when he absolutely had no necessity to and would even get repercussions for doing it (cutting the flag = defying the Capitol = no chance of him winning aka surviving).

He's also shown to be just a kid himself.

He's in an awful situation and trying to stay kind and safe and what's a little something that he does for Himself (the ONE thing he does for himself, basically his entire time in the arena he's doing things for others, even when the thing is just refusing to murder) to cheer up? He makes himself a makeshift cape and runs and twirls around a bit.

i have... so many feelings and thoughts on his character... Suzanne Collins' pen is definition of on fire. That's all.

*btw, something that also makes me incredibly sad is how he's taking care of everyone/not harming anyone but his own mentor still won't send him food or water :( and it's especially sad when you remember that Clemensia was one of the only mentors and Capitol people shown to be Actually against the Hunger Games, at first.

She wasn't bored by them (like it can be said for Festus or Arachne) and she wasn't simply disgusted from a gore/imagery perspective (like Snow and Livia too, if I remember well).

She was actually disgusted at them from a human perspective (not nearly as much as Sejanus but still) and even asked if "the Districts hadn't suffered enough" and "why couldn't they stop now that the war was over". Meaning, she was probably gonna be a good mentor (or as good as a mentor can be) before the snakes bit her and messed her up... it's all one big tragedy🥲

EDIT: wait, she Does send food by the end! But the point stands because she sends it after she's healed more and her brain's clearer.

#reaper ash #clemensia dovecote #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg series #thg #the hunger games #al's post

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thewonyoungeffect · 8 months

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how to achieve the “wonyoung” aesthetic !!

people make it seem like you have to wake up super early, eat entirely healthy, have a really long workout routine to have the wonyoung aesthetic, but i’m here to tell you that is not the case at all !! wonyoungism is basically just being your best self like wonyoung, not being wonyoung.

PART 1: MENTALLY

to really get into the wonyoung effect, you have to work on your mental state!! i’ll show you some ways to start thinking positive and such !!

• DECLUTTER: go through your phone and just delete anybody who you don’t talk to anymore, if they don’t benefit you, are toxic, something like that, delete them

• YOU FIRST: start putting yourself first, learn how to say no, set boundaries, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or treat you how they wanna treat you.

• JOURNALING: try journaling, you can experiment with journaling in an attempt to get to know yourself better like your strengths, weaknesses, values, etc !! if you don’t like journaling, you can try different hobbies to see what you like and don’t like to do !!

• CONFIDENCE: work on your confidence, you can do this by experimenting with different styles (if you wear things you like, it can help you gain confidence), have friends that are confident and positive, and try stepping out of your comfort zone (this one isn’t easy so take your time with it)

• YOU TIME: start making days to just hang out with yourself !! you can do anything (movies, food, books) anything that makes you happy !! hanging out with yourself can help you understand who you are inside :)

(if you need anymore advice about this topic, feel free to ask me in my inbox or my comments💗)

PART 2: PHYSICALLY

if you wanna glow up physically, this is the section for you !!

•DRINK WATER: i cannot stress this enough, please drink water !! not only is it good for you but it has MANY benefits .. (eg: clearer skin, flushes out bad bacteria in your body and bladder, regulates your body temperature, and more) if you don’t like drinking water, you can try getting a cirkul water bottle or something like that, it’s water but it taste like juice and they have many different flavors!! my favorite is fruit punch !!!

if you cant afford that, you can just try adding fruit to your water (i suggest lemon)

• SKINCARE: skincare is important, no you don’t need a twenty step routine!! all you need is cleanser, moisturizer, and some sunscreen !!

DISCLAIMER: dont just go buying any skincare because the label is pretty, it might not suit your skin, figure out your skin type and buy items that suit your skin type.

make sure you do your skincare both day and night, it’s okay if you forget, we aren’t robots, we don’t need to be perfect everyday !!

first you cleanse (at least sixty seconds, helps remove dirt in your skin), rinse and then put your moisturizer (helps keep your skin soft and hydrated), then you put your sunscreen (helps protect your skin from skin cancer, sunburn, aging, etc)

• HYGIENE: along with skincare, it is important to shower regularly!! make sure you get all the important spots , and this is optional, but you can get some body scrubs to exfoliate your skin!!

(i made a similar post about this next section titled “how to look your best at school” it basically just covers all of this, but i’m gonna go over it again!!)

• HAIR: try a new hairstyle!! it can really enhance your look, you can try and find some that fit your face shape better or just try any !! it’s your life :)

STYLE: find your style, find out what clothes suit you, what clothes you like, your aesthetic !! don’t forget accessories :)

that’s all i have for now, i can make in depth blogs about any of these topics, feel free to ask‼️

#cottage core #kpop #pink #wonyoungism #pretty #beautiful #thewonyoungeffect #viral #self concept wonyoung #motivation

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not-your-kitten17 · 1 month

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Imagine, every month, for a week,Slipping your kitten a libido pill in their water bottle, using flavoured water to hide any potential taste and making them finish the whole bottle to "make sure they are hydrated "

then throughout the day you see them get hornier and hornier but they are too shy to ask for what they need. So they just cling to you, sitting on your lap, whimpering as they lightly grind on your thigh.

Your little girl just so confused on why she is so painfully worked up again, this has started to happen every month,since they have met their mummy, but her dumb little subby brain cant put the pieces together, too desperate for their mummy to fill and breed them.

After a while of enjoying your kitten, not so subtly try and get your attention and getting frustrated with the lack of release. You softly kiss their neck,smirking at the gasps and whimpers and whisper in a condescending sweet voice while grabbing their hips and moving them along your thigh firmly.

" aww, whats gotten into you baby? My pet must be in heat again huh? You really are just mummys little kitten, this is why you have to stay in mummys home huh, how embarrassing would it be if this happened outside without mummy around. We both know you cant cum without mummy anymore! "

Nodding rapidly and softly moaning, not fully registering what she is whispering in their ear, but thats what mummy wants, when her baby is so dumb and desperate like this, its so easy to indoctrinate her into being your perfect little house pet.

Big doe eyes look up at you, tears slowly falling down her face " hurts mummy, more " smirking "more what baby?"

Crying out, words are so difficult for your kitten, so the only thing they can mumble out is "m-mummys cock!"

Grinning widely, "aww good girl kitten! Mummys so proud of you! " the praise making your sweet girl grin and puff up at the praise

"Dont worry, mummy will take very good care of you "

#😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#intox kink #forced drugging #bd/sm community #bd/sm mommy #md/lg babygirl #kitten pet play #bd/sm blog #mommy k!nk #md/lg #sapphic nsft #bd/sm kink #wlw bd/sm #wlw nsft

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Blessed Are The Meek 5

Summary: you are trapped in an awkward circumstance with a widowed commander. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, sterility, and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Tommy Shelby

Note: thank you for following along. I’m sure yall didn’t expect to write Tommy again but here we are. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You wipe the Commander's face and stand with the cup, brush, and blade. You go to the sink to clean it all up and put it away. As you do, you hear him shifting in the water. You've already set out his soap and shampoo on the ledge. The smell of it laces the air.

You glance at the door, wondering if you should go.

"You will wait and have a towel ready."

His order is taken as diligently as any other. 'Yes, Commander' and you take the bath sheet from the rack, standing by the wall and staring at your sleeve. He sighs as he lingers in water, drawing out the tension.

When he stands, water slaking noisily from his body, you come forward and open the bath sheet. He steps over the wall of the tub and waits. You wrap it around him and he finally clasps the top.

You recoil and move aside. He passes you and you roll up your sleeve to pull the stopper from the tub. You don’t return to the bedroom right away. You give him time before you near the door, head down.

“Would you like your tea?” You ask the floor.

He sits on the side of the bed. He reaches for the thick tome on the round table beside the wooden frame. He lifts the bible and flutters through the gold-edged pages. You listen to the noise but refocus on the cold hardwood.

“Even piety cannot outweigh the law,” he says, “did you chance a verse or two, hm?”

You shake your head. “No, Commander.”

He snaps the book shut, clutching it between his hands. He runs his thumb along the spine and leans forward. He stares at the cover then hurls it at the wall, making you flinch as it falls onto its pages.

“Tell me then, what did you read? Before?”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t believe he truly cares. This is just what the men do. They play on their power, pulling the strings of the women they made into puppets. You won’t tell him of the cheap novellas that kept you company in a tub very much like the one in the next room or the fantastical tales of dragons and magic that first awakened your love of literature.

“I am not the woman I was before. I cannot recall.”

He sits up and leans his head back, “you are just like every other woman. You say what will do you best, but never the truth.”

You don’t argue. He is right, but he does not admit why. That if you do speak honestly, you will be sent to the wall or worse.

“Or maybe you read nothing at all. Maybe you were the sort to watch a screen until your head turned dull. Or spent your time with a bottle of liquor…” he presumes as he scratches along his neck. “Certainly, there wasn’t much time for reading with a son to rear, eh?”

You try not to falter. Is it a lucky guess or does he know? He could. Surely, if he wanted to know who you used to be, he could find that out.

“Tea,” he orders bluntly and lifts his legs onto the bed, sprawling wide so the bath sheet slackens around his legs.

“Yes, Commander,” you affirm, twisting sharply as you fight to keep your nerves from boiling over. It is a test. One you must pass.

🌫️

The Commander dismisses you as he sits thumbing through the bible’s bent pages and sipping his tea. You leave him with the soft clasp of the doorknob behind you. You wade through the dark and down to the first floor. You resume your seat on the bench, drawing your legs up as you lay on your side.

It is stiff and uncomfortable. You feel the knot forming in your neck already but you are too tired to worry about it. You sleep shallowly, cramped and rigid, until you are awakened by the creak of the stairs.

You sit up with an effort. Your neck screams and your shoulder blades throb. You lean on the wall for just a moment as you muster the strength to stand. The pain is almost inhuman. You knew you would regret sleeping on the bench but you hadn’t much choice.

You rise and brace your hip without thinking as you face the Commander coming down the stairs. He wears only a robe in the pale light of early morning. It cannot be more than four.

“I called for you,” he stops on the middle step.

“Apologies, Commander.”

“Why are you down here?” He sneers.

“I… I did not know where else–”

“Hush,” he demands curtly, “you think too much and say more.”

You lower your chin in submission. You swallow your standard acquiescence and wait for further reproach.

“Upstairs. This house is frigid, I require another duvet. Find one.”

He goes back up as you hesitate to follow. You ascend, step by step, tamping down a whine as each lift of your foot zings up to your neck. You go to the narrow closet door and open it, revealing a spare blanket. You bring it with you and enter through the open bedroom door.

The Commander is abed already. You approach him and throw the duvet across the bed, grunting through your teeth. You tug the corners straight and he reaches to grasp your wrist. You pause, his touch almost stinging.

“You may sleep across my feet, like a dog,” he snickers, “it would do better than that bench for your decrepit bones.”

You stay still, not daring to rip your arm away from him, “Commander, I don’t mind–”

“It is not up to you. Go on, dog, take your place.”

He lets you go and you stand. Your eyes burn with humiliation as you sidle towards the end of the mattress. You put one hand down, then the other, climbing up on all fours like an animal. You lower yourself onto your side, back to him as you stare at the dark doorway.

“Just like a loyal old bitch,” he remarks as he jostles the bed, kicking you from beneath the blanket, “aren’t you?”

“Yes, Commander,” you force through your tight throat.

#tommy shelby #drabble #dark tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #au #handmaid au #blessed are the meek #series #peaky blinders

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epic-arc · 9 months

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Cat Girls Vs Bunny Girls

Jaune was in his room playing video game then he noticed that his water bottle was empty so he left his room into the kitchen until he saw weiss and blake wearing maid clothes using some accessories like fake ears or fake tails.

Weiss: Welcome to the cat cafe of hunters! Meow~

Blake: What would you like to order master?~

Jaune blushed seeing the two dressed up and without noticing he was pushed slightly by one of the glyphs of weiss making him sit down. The two noticing this approached him with a smile on their faces.

Jaune: Woah you two look amazing and really cute in those costumes but why are you two doing this?

Blake: Well weiss was reading a magazine about this type of coffee and had the idea to make one at home the only problem is that we didn't find any cats here in vacuo.

Weiss approached from behind jaune and bit his ear lightly making him blush extremely and have a slight shiver. Weiss and blake would see that and would have a malicious smile on his face and weiss would speak in jaune's ear.

Weiss: I think we'll suffice, Don't you think so jaune? Meow~

Blake: Dont you wanna pet the cutest creatures of the whole remmant, White eating the sweetest of desserts? Meow~

Jaune's face was completely red because of what Blake and Weiss said and he took a deep breath and looked at the two who were smiling at him.

Jaune: O-okay so i think cats really are the cutest animals in remmant hehe.

Jaune would raise both hands to stroke Weiss and Blake's head until they hear a loud noise coming from the kitchen door and look over to see that it was Velvet and Pyrrha dressed as bunny girls.

Pyrrha: I object!!

Velvet: It's rabbits that are cute, Not cats!

The two pairs look at each other with angry expressions and jaune would be confused until he looks to his right to see ren dressed as a bunny boy.

Jaune: Hey you look handsome you know?

Ren: Thanks jaune.

Jaune would hear a discussion and would look towards the direction of the fight and see the two pairs fighting.

Weiss: No! Cats are cuter than rabbits!

Blake: We are Soft, Fluffy, Cute!

Pyrrha: Not to mention messy, Who like to break furniture and are needy!

Velvet: You got ren over there! just use him instead! Jaune is ours.

Weiss: Nora owns him and you know it!

The two pairs were pulling their weapons until ren called their attention.

Ren: Instead of you fighting and getting hurt, you just don't spend time with jaune, you 4 together with him, he can decide who is the cutest animal is a win-win situation.

The pairs looked at each other after what Ren had said and then looked at Jaune with malicious smiles and jumped on top of him, hugging him and giving some kisses.

Jaune: R-Ren help me!

Ren: I'm sorry jaune but sacrifices are necessary...

When Ren said that he felt a hand on his shoulder and a dark energy coming from behind and he would look seeing that it was nora with hearts in her pupils and her face completely flushed.

Nora: Mama bear likes the bunny she's seeing~

(Base: this video)

youtube

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ourautumn86 · 1 year

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stray. pt.4

joel miller! x fem! reader

< previous chapter next chapter >

summary; after saving Joel and Ellie from the brink of death, you get caught with having to live with two more strays.., and you don't do strays.

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡either ways, i hope y'all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

warnings; eventual +18 content! MINORS DONT INTERACT IN THE CHAPTERS WHERE IT IS IMPLIED IN THE WARNINGS and smut, mentions of death, possible deaths, blood, fighting, angst, fluff..

warnings for chapter 4; as always reader being a bad bitch, guns, blood, fighting, clickers, wounds, weapons, threats, torture, murder, deaths, s3xual @ssault (no r@pe) , mentions of r@pe, tension, arguing, cursing, anxiety, angst angst angst, loss, mourning, ptsd…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

“You’re not going.”

“But why?!” Ellie whines, shaking her hands. Exasperated.

“ ‘Cause you’d get me killed, brat.” you were packing on Larry’s house. You had a mission on the nearest city, a dirty job, but a good job. “Have you forgotten that you’re the most wanted kid in the entire world right now?” you ask her and she closes her mouth on a thin line. “Right.”

You roll your eyes, getting your water bottles and food to put them inside.

“It’s too dangerous even for you, y/n.” Larry says, sighing, tired. You two had been arguing about it for hours now.

“Larry. I’ve already tell you. If I get that motor for Maria she has promised to send us weekly food and resources. That could really help us out here, even more after this season…” you repeat, over and over again. He knows it’s a good deal. A deal you cannot pass on.

“But those men…” he tries, he really tries, but you are stubborn.

“Those men are nothing. I can take them.” you respond, and he doesn’t seem happy.

“No. Joel is going with you.” you look at him with a horrified look in your face. “Will you go with her. Joel?”

“No.”

“Sure.”

You look at him and he simply shrugs.

“FEDRA will be there.” you point out.

“I can use a cap.” you scoff.

“As if a cap would help you.”

“Believe me, they probably won’t even notice me. They’re mostly looking for Ellie, not me.” you sigh and Larry smiles, content. You hate him.

“If you die I’m leaving you behind.” you warn him and he nods.

“I hoped you would.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Here.” Larry gives him a knife already sharpened and ready to cut. “You have a gun, am I right?” Joel nods and pats his back. “Okay. This mission needs to be quick. You get in there at night. Put them down slowly, no struggling and no shooting unless is necessary. We don’t want them to notice you’re there. You get the motor and you run, I’ll have Blair waiting for you with a car ready to get you back home, alright?”

“I still find it unfair. So he can go and I can’t?” Ellie whines and you give her a look that makes her cross her arms and huff, sitting back on Larry’s dinning table and taking a bite of his ham sandwich.

“Okay. I’m ready.” you say, hiding the last of your daggers on your ankles and wrists.

Joel takes his back and you two leave the house after having said your goodbyes. You had promised Lizzy to come back soon, in the mean time, she’ll have Ellie, since she’ll be staying with Larry.

You don’t talk to him, you hate it when people mess with your plans or things. You worked better off alone.

He followed you out of town and through the gates, the beep of the alarm on your backs letting you know it was newly locked.

Joel got on your left, and just tagged along. “We need to go up north a little bit and go right on the woods. Then we’ll get to the city. The most dangerous zone is a couple of km from here. There have been spotted various clickers.”

“Is there a way to avoid them?” he inquired.

“Sadly no. The safest way is right now completely occupied by a rebellion against FEDRA. They are really aggressive and don’t like outsiders.” you said.

“Tell me about it…” he muttered, remembering the first time Ellie and him were attacked while trying to get though one of those cities by car. “Well, it just means we’ll have to be more careful.”

“Just keep your eyes open and don’t stand on my way.”

He cocked his gun in a swift move.

“Copy that.”

“You got it?” you whispered, his arms extended and eyes focused on a stray infected on your way. You had walked around 2km and reached the dangerous and restricted zone. In a blink the infected was down. Shot straight to the head.

“I got it.”

Joel and you hadn’t talked much, only when necessary. It was normal. This silence in between the two of you. He didn’t know how to talk to you. You didn’t know either. Did you even want to?

He was a good fighter, not like you had suspected of their almost death the first time you had met him. He had a great stance, great aim. Maybe the fear of Ellie getting hurt had gotten the best of him. But that had been a mistake that could have cost him everything. Although you could understand.

“Let’s go.” he said, going to take a step forward, but before he could, you were dragging him backwards and in a quick movement pressing him against the wall. The building was cold and dark, creaks could be heard every now and then, and the paper of the walls was falling apart. Some bits stuck to his jacket. “What-“

You pressed a hand to his mouth, your eyes never meeting his but the door next to the both of you. Joel’s eyes did the same, and his chest got stuck in a new breath when he finally heard it. You were tightly pressed against him, trying to not be seen. The big heavy steps came closer, the sound of rotten flesh shifting with every thud. The bloater came into your point of view and you gritted your teeth.

Motherfuckers. You hated them. Every and each one of them. More than any type of infected. It had been a long time since you had seen one. A year to be exact. You knew it wasn’t the same bloater that had tore apart Laura. It couldn’t be. But you felt your blood rush, boil, the need to destroy him just like he had destroyed your most important person in the world.

But with that rage came too the fear. The panic. Your body froze, and your limbs shook. The images of that ominous day coming to your mind like flowing acid water that left you with a knot on your throat.

Joel placed a hand over yours when he felt them tense against his chest. You looked at him due to the recent touch, his eyes stare into yours. Soft brown and caramel touch. ‘Breathe’, you could read on them. ‘I’ll kill them. All of them.’ he could read on yours, your mind strong against your body, who seemed to be about to fall apart.

That silence again. A full out loud conversation made just with stares.

‘It’s not worth it.’ he shook his head, pointing out the obvious danger. Where a bloater goes a million clickers could appear.

You let go of his mouth when you could no longer hear it. It had gotten lost in the building once again, away from you. His hand was still on yours, his heartbeat bellow your palm. He was alive. He was here. You were not alone. This was not the past. Laura was dead. Joel was alive.

You got away from him as if he was burning and you were gasoline, about to combust.

He was alive. You were not alone.

That made your blood run cold, freeze in your veins and make you ache. Bitter and sweet, like lemonade on a fresh cut.

“Let’s go.” you said, and he looked at you, when you were about to walk away taking you from your hand and making you stop.

“Let’s go through the fire scape.” he pointed at the windows, where you could see the steps and stairs.

“It could fall apart. The erosion could have bitten it apart.” you said, and he pursed his lips, thinking.

“Could be. But if we continue we’ll meet the bloater again.” he argued and you rolled your eyes.

“Then we’ll kill it.” you said, and he gave you an stern look.

“It’s a suicide. We’re only two and with mere guns. We won’t be able to take it down.” you fight against his grip, as if you could prove a point, make him believe you were strong enough to take it alone. “y/n.” he said your name, and your body froze. “You’re still hurt. We can’t take the risk.” he said, and for once, you listened, ‘cause you muscles lost their tension and your skin softened under his touch. “Let’s try the fire scape.” you looked at him for what it seemed to be hours.

Follow me. Trust me. I’m here.

Your throat was aching to say fight more, stubborn as always. But you knew he was speaking the truth, and you had to take it even if it hurt your heart. Even if you couldn’t get your vengeance today.

“Fine. But if you fall it’s all your fault.” you said and he scoffed, letting you go as he walked towards the window that led to the fire scape and opened it. “You go first. I don’t have to die too for your stupidity.” you pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest.

“As you wish.” he shrugged and stepped outside, the fire scape not making even a sound. It was perfectly stable. “Told you so.” he smiled, cockily. You rolled your eyes.

“Shut up and move.” you said as you crossed the window to the other side and followed him.

The night quickly fell on your shoulders, and the city welcomed you with the remains of its busting energy. There were only a few people left on the streets, probably late workers getting ready to get home after an exhausting day.

You gave him a nod towards a hidden alley and he followed you with now his gun on hand. You managed to slowly open the door to the building where the motor was supposed to be stored, using a clip that has been seating on your hair. Joel was impressed, but again, this was a really hard world, and you learned things to adapt to it.

You slowly creaked open the door, gun looking right, then left. Clear.

Joel closed it behind his back when you waved your hand, stepping in. You cocked your head towards the right and started walking. The hallways were dark, dusty and old with multiple doors that you passed by as quickly and as carefully as you could, checking then one by one.

It was not long before you found the motor, after five minutes of searching room by room. It was in what it seemed to be an storage/meeting room, a really big one, with tables and a couple of sofas on the left. There were guns and bookcases and…

Next thing you knew, there was an arm around your neck. You choked, fighting the person that had attacked you. You heard Joel grunting at your back.

“Got him!” a male voice said, and you groaned as they dragged you further into the room, a girl snatched your gun away from you with a kick.

“Not as pretty as the one I’ve got.” the male at your back laughed, and your wrists were grabbed with his free and big hand, fingers digging on your skin and bruising it up. Your tries to kick him again were in vain, because in just a matter of seconds you were on the floor, his body pressing against you and making it hard to breath. The arm that surrounded your neck had retracted, his hand pushing your face against the floor. “Such a pretty little thing…” he smiled, and your heart jumped, a moan of pain leaving your lips when he tugged on your hair, bringing your face closer to him.

Joel was at your right, in the same position as you, fighting the buffer man on top of him.

“Don’t touch her!” he said, but he got kicked on the face by a blonde hair, breaking up his lip with her combat boot. Joel hissed and she laughed.

“You really thought it could be that easy? Get in here and walk right out?” she scoffed, taking a step closer to you and kneeling just the slightest to catch your face in between his fingers, fiercely digging her nails on your skin. “Who do you work for?” she asked, and you simply spat on her face, making her close her eyes and fall silent for a couple of seconds before she smirked, looking at you with malice in her eyes.

“Bob.” he simply said, and you had to watch as the man on top of Joel took his head and bashed it against the floor, making a breech open on his forehead.

“No!” you screamed, but you got silenced with a punch so strong that made your ears ring.

“Hey! Don’t touch her face! I want her all pretty for me later.” the man pinning you to the floor said, and the girl stood up, a golf stick now shinning brightly in between her hands.

“You bitch…” you said, and she smiled.

“Better watch what you say… Wouldn’t want your boyfriend here to pay for it, right?” she teased, and swung at his ribs, making his face contort in pain and a groan leave his lips. “Who. do. you. work. for?” she asks, Joel this time, and he doesn’t answer. “Fine.” she swung again, but this time he hit his head, blood pouring on his skin.

“Get off me! Get the fuck off me!!!!” you screamed at the guy pinning you down, fighting him off as she got Joel’s ribs, making him scream in pain. “Fuck!!!!!”

“I love the tough ones. Always the ones that cry the hardest on bed.” he said, and once again banged your head against the floor. “Should I make it quick?” he said, and Joel glared at him. “Maybe I could even do it right here, in front of your little friend. I bet he would love that, huh?” he said with a smirk, and you felt your skin crawl when his tongue met your neck, sucking there ‘till you hissed.

“I’ll fucking kill-“

Your eyes widened when Joel was cut off by another swing to the head.

You screamed when he slumped against the floor, blood dripping onto the floor from the wound on his forehead, which got bigger. “You’re gonna fucking die!” your gaze was strong, your words directed to the girl that now walked towards you with an amused smirk on her face. “Fucking bitch, I’m gonna-“

But you moaned in pain when she kicked you on your side, three times, making you curl on yourself and knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What did you say? You ‘want me to kill him’?” she mocked you, cocking her head, stepping back towards Joel.

“Finish him off, already, Jade. We’ve got things to do.” the brunette girl that had kicked your gun away and now stood guarding the door said, making the blonde roll her eyes.

“You’re always so fucking boring, Ray. You never let me have fun.” she pouted.

“Joel, wake up.” you said, fighting to get away, trying to make him come back to you and live. “ WAKE THE FUCK UP!” you screamed, your breathing ragged.

Your blood was rushing through your veins, burning you from the inside out. Your whole body trembled and shook.

“Yeah. That’s right. Watch the little rat die. I promise you will be right behind, pretty girl.” the boy on your back said, whispering and kissing your ear. You felt the urge to vomit. “But we’ll have a little bit of fun before though, what do you think, hm?” your eyes landed on the gun scattered just a couple inches away from you. “I promise I’ll be good to you…” he said, one of his hands now leaving your head and pulling aside the neck of your shirt to reveal more skin, his hips grinding against your ass.

Big fucking mistake.

“I won’t.” you spat and with a quick movement for your leg you rolled on yourself, hit his legs that straddled you. He lose balance, falling at your right. With a quick swift of your hand you had your dagger in hand the one that had been hiding on the ankles of your pant and that now you dug on the neck of the asshole that had been touching you just mere seconds ago.

He let out a scream that soon turned into a gurgling mess of blood and gasps that couldn’t fill his lungs.

“Axel!” Ray was quick to react, gun and hand and finger pulling the trigger to shoot at you, but you dodged it by rolling on the floor.

Her body was the next one to hit the floor, your dagger perfectly placed in between her two eyebrows. She was lying in a pool of her own blood by the time you got to your gun, but you groaned when one of the last two standing shoot at it and pushed it away from your reach.

You stood up as quickly as you could dodging multiple of missed bullets. You went straight to the guy, that had been pinning Joel to the floor and that now stood on his feet, your legs aching at the effort.

“Finish that rat off!” he screamed at his blonde friend as he recharged his gun. He groaned and struggled with you as you fought for his gun once once you’ve taken a hold on it —a little trick you had learned years ago— twisting it to dodge a new bullet. He almost had it, though you were quicker than him and, once your eyes had found it lying in the floor not far away from you, you took ahold on a bat with nails that you supposed they had used to beat the shit out of others like you. It was the divine intervention that you needed.

At this point blood was decorating your skin in little freckles. A painting of death and revenge in the hands of the wrong artist. You were still thirsty for it, you were on the hunt for more. You couldn’t see, only red and the ghost of his bodies. Rage was taking ahold on you. Mind was turning blank.

Your veins screamed for death.

The nails dug on the side of his face as you swung, his eyes rolling back as his jaw falling slack. You could see some of them sticking through his cheek and onto his mouth.

You were sure to have hit the brain once he had fallen on his knees as you pulled from it, brain matter decorating your shoes. You took his gun, and with a quick twist of your body, you shot the last girl standing —which was the one who had been beating Joel with a golf stick— on the stomach before she could give him the final blow.

“Fucking bitch!” she groaned in pain, hands falling to the bleeding hole on his body.

You shot her again, this time to both his legs, making her fall, the golf stick clinking onto the floor. You were going to shoot again, somewhere that would hurt but not kill her yet, but the gun had ran out of bullets. You clicked your tongue and threw it aside, making a dent on the wall at your right.

You almost felt the need to laugh when you saw her crawling her way to the emergency door in the room, away from you and Joel’s semi-unconscious body, who slowly came back to his senses.

Your steps were the only sound filling the room as you approached her, her heavy breathing and pants adding to the melody of an incoming death.

You were gonna bash her fucking skull in.

When you got to her, you kicked her hard on the stomach, winning new stains on your dusty jeans. Maybe you’d leave them. Maybe you’d grow fond of them. Let’s see how many more you’d get after you were done with her.

You were breathing hard, your chest heaving with every puff of air you could get, though no oxygen seemed to be enough for your body, for your dizzy and gone mind.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

The scream that she left when you kicked her once again could made anyone shiver, but not you.

I’ll kill them. All of them.

She was finally on her back, bleeding out on your feet. And if you were someone else, you would have felt mercy. But you were just you.

So you rose the bat and swung, blood splattering all over your face and clothes when you did it again, and again, and again…

Your arms hurt, your lungs burned, your body shook…

She was already dead. But it was not enough.

No. Not this time. This time I’ll be strong enough. This time I won’t be left alone. This time he won’t die. Joel won’t die. Not him. Not again. Not like Laura did. He won’t…

And suddenly you could breath, strong arms surrounding you from the back and stopping you with force. You fought back his grip, his hushing, his soft voice promising that you were okay. That he was okay.

He could see it in your eyes. That fear. The same fear that he had fought for decades. The same demons.

He had seen them take a hold on you while you fought, he had seen you lost yourself on the blood.

“It’s okay.” he muttered, and you hands let go of the bat, your eyes fixed on the corpse in front of you, completely unrecognizable, your crimson hands, your messy clothes… “y/n.” he called out your name and your eyes swelled with tears that you fought to not let show… Your palms burned due to the friction of the wood, blisters rising up on the skin.

His eyes found yours when he turned you around and away from the bodies that you had left behind, trying to get you to focus on him.

He too had been through this. Through this rage, through this mourning and need for blood.

“I’m here.” he said, and just in case, repeated his words, slower, softer. “I’m here.” you slowly let him bring you into his arms, your cheek pressed against his heart, where you made sure that it was true. He was here. He was okay. He was alive. You were not alone.

And Joel made as if he had not noticed the way your hands had clutched and fisted his shirt, tugging him closer.

The look that Blair has given you when you had taken the motor back to the car was…, well it was an understatement.

She tried to make your eyes meet hers, gaze digging holes on your body. But you were too gone to say something. Too deep inside your head to be able to speak. You were staring at the nothingness, at the blood on your hands.

You didn’t recall the way back to the town, nor how you had ended up on the back along with Joel, who silently looked at you and made sure you were okay. You had always been silent, but this time it was different. You were as still as a corpse, your eyes lost and hands trembling every now and then. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what was the right thing to do, the right thing to bring you back to the present, ‘cause it was obvious you were caught in between it and the so painful past that you always avoided.

The doors made a beep that let the car in as they opened and closed shut behind it, securing you inside. You were back home. You were safe. But were you? Was the person on your left safe for you?

Joel’s face was a mess. Busted lip, a cut on his right cheek that had already stopped bleeding, swelling eye, bleeding forehead… He had cuts all over his arm, the same arms in which you had been in between just a mere hours ago. The same arms that had made sure to stop you from falling apart.

“What the hell happened?!!” Larry was quick to approach the two of you in the middle of the night, being drawn by the noise of the car, flashlight on hand. Ellie was right behind, fully awake. It seems that she hadn’t been able to sleep at all, not when you and Joel weren’t around, when she wasn’t ‘safe’.

Ellie froze when she looked at you, Larry with eyes shot open. You were bathed in blood, new deaths weighing your body.

You didn’t look at them.

Joel explained, explained that you and him had been caught with your guards down, that the mission had went wrong before you had fixed it. Before you had killed all that people…

Larry took your face between his hands and you looked at him. His eyes were concerned, his hands inspecting for new wounds, for danger. You were okay. It wasn’t your blood. Then, he hugged you. He hugged you so hard you almost couldn’t breath. You were like a ghost in between his arms. Lifeless, lost. You mind had too much to think about, your mouth too little to say.

Ellie didn’t move. She couldn’t. Didn’t know how to react, how to move or talk. She could breath when Larry had promised that you were okay, that everything was okay. But her hands were shaking, and a pang of pain crossed your chest in fear that it was because of you. Was she scared? Had you finally become the same monster that had killed your family…, your friends?

The apartment was too cold. So cold you were freezing under your sticky clothes. Larry had made sure the three of you were back inside, secured, still shaken up by the thought that he could have almost lost you, lost a daughter.

That was when you started to move. Your feet unable to stop.

You didn’t know where you were going until your hands were on the handle to Laura’s door, didn’t even realized you had finally opened it after a year of solitude —or ignoring it was even there— too fearful to try and step inside.

Ellie, Larry and Joel were looking at you. Frozen in place, unable to move or speak as you closed the door at your back and buried yourself on your best friend for the longest time after her death.

It smell so much like her it made your eyes water. Her paintings and sketches all over the walls. Polaroids decorating the empty spaces, photos pf the two of you when everything was perfect —as perfect as it could be in a world like this—. Books left unfinished where left at the feet of her bed, her night table still had her favorite one left open on her favorite page. Alice in wonderland.

Your heart plummeted with your body on her bed, on her unmade bed that felt like giving her a hug, like having her close. That smelled like the stupid citrus stupid shampoo he used for her curly hair…

Your hands tugged on one of her pillows, your body curling around it trying to find her. Trying to find her warmth, her own beating heart. But you only could feel your own, your own shattering one.

You were staining the sheets with blood. Destroying that already broken place that you had been to scared to walk into. But you couldn’t care less. ‘Cause maybe that’s what would make you finally clean them up and put them inside her wardrobe, which peeked open at your right. Maybe…, this new blood could make you move on, even if it hurt.

You closed your eyes, ignoring the stickiness of your body, the weight of your drenched clothes, and cried. Cried in the silence that she had left behind, cried in the fear that had caved in you today after years of fearless guts.

For the first time in a year you had been scared. Scared of this world. Scared of a new death. Scared of your heart breaking again.

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