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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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edwardslvrr · 7 months

Text

༯ 405, TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x singer!reader

the one where rumour has it YN has a new boyfriend and Trevor has a new girlfriend

taglist if you’d like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment xoxo

last part main masterlist trevor zegras masterlist

ynupdates

via twitter

REPLIES

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yourinstagram

los angeles, california

liked by jackhughes and 1.395.728 others

yourinstagram good riddance deluxe is out NOWW!!

view 19.738 comments

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trevorzegras

liked by colecaufield and 104.749 others

trevorzegras all summer long

view 1.284 comments

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ynupdates

via twitter

REPLIES

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username how did people ever get to the fact she could be dating jack?! y’all are so weird

username nah after that album i refuse to believe she has already moved on

username she’s probs dating him again

username i mean the album was writing a while back tho-

username i refuse.

username yn probably panicked so hard when she realised she posted that

username she def cried

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taglist - @ihrtdan

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lunamadhatter99 · 5 months

Text

All for The Cameras

Chapter 3

Finnick Odair x Fem!reader

It's time. That's all I'm gonna say.

If you like it and want to be added to the tag list, comment here.

Have a good day, loves! ❤️

Chapter summary: the plan is in motion.

Chapter Warnings: prostitution, drug use (on the bad guy, but still),

Tag list.

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

@redh00dsbf

@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

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@martahabla

It's been a month since the talk with Plutarch... and I still can't believe it.

The rebellion is actually happening, district 13 still exists!

These are the thoughts that keep my mind sane. Plutarch said we need to be careful, he might have a plan... but we need people we can trust.

Of course.

I try to think of some people that would gladly help and that can be also trusted while I walk into the building Cal lives in. Unfortunately the rebellion hasn't properly started and I still have "duty" to do.

I take a deep breath as I enter the elevator and close my eyes for a moment, enough time for another person to enter with me. And I already know who this is.

"Finnick," I nod my head greeting him and open my eyes as the doors close.

"Sweetheart," he sends me one of his charming smile and nods his head too.

The ride to the last floor is pretty long and slow, it gives time for a small, awkward silence to fall for a while before Finnick speaks up.

"I heard... you know." He says, hands behind his back casually.

"Everybody knows apparently..." I sigh.

"Yeah... people can't stop talking about it. The talk of the town."

"If he wanted it to be a surprise, well, oops" I roll my eyes.

"He's been..." he pauses for a moment, shakes his head and looks up with an angry smile.

"What?" I press, "more possessive? More obsessed?"

"Yeah, since you left for the Victory tour he..." he starts, but I cut him off immediately.

"No, he's been like this since that day," I say, I feel him looking at me, but I don't have the heart of looking back.

"Do.... do you think he heard it?" He hesitantly asks, lowering his voice too, "there's no way he could've heard..."

"He must've. That's the only explanation." I tell him, lowering my own voice. "You chose the worse time of all."

"Well, I'm sorry... okay? I... wasn't thinking," he apologies.

"Clearly." I take another deep breath before speaking again, "you know sometimes I try to come out with as many way of killing him I can. Each of them ends up with me getting caught, because unfortunately he is who he is... but it helps."

"How many did you get last time?" He asks, a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"I think... uh... 6," I say, "oh no, 7... almost forgot about the spoon one."

He actually laughs and it helps me too, knowing that in the end we're on the same boat.

"I think... 13 would've been better." He says, he kind of emphasises the number. That makes my head turn to him, him already looking at me with a serious expression.

Could it be..?

So I dare ask.

"Did you talk to Plutarch?"

I see him opening his mouth to answer, but before anything could come out of it, the elevator's doors open and we are greeted by Cal himself ready with two glasses of wine.

"Welcome back, my lovelies." He cheers and he hands us the drinks, "finally all together. C'mon, c'mon."

As we enter his huge apartment I try to look at Finnick to get that answer, he does look at me, but I can't understand.

"Alright, let's sit for a bit, uh?" Cal lead us to his living room, motioning to a huge wooden table... with only two seats...

Cal take a seat and looks at us, expecting.

"Uhm... should I go get another seat or..?" Finnick tries to take it lightly, but one thing is worse than having to spend the night with Cal Kingslay... not knowing what Cal Kingslay has in store.

"Oh no need, c'mon Finnick sit." Cal tells him and Finnick obeys, looking at me confused.

"And.. what about me?" I ask, also trying to play it cool.

"Oh before you sit," Cal stands up to come up to me, it takes everything in me not to take a step back... or even run, "I got a little gift for you. It's in the bedroom."

"Aw.. that's sweet, but you really shouldn't have." I say, hoping he doesn't feel the tremble in my voice.

"We have to make up for lost time, sweetheart. Now go, then come back here." He instructs.

"Sure..." I fake smile at him, steal a quick glance at a tense Finnick and head to the bedroom.

The bedroom, just as huge, hosts a big round bed, a small couch in front of it and nothing much else. I notice a package on the bed, I go to open and find... of course...

I scoff as I look at the deep red lingerie set he bought me. I put it on, constantly rolling my eyes, the only act of defiance I can afford, I wear the matching rope and head back to the living room.

"Oh look at her!" Cal exclaims as I near, "I knew that was your color. Isn't she a beauty, Finnick?"

"Yes." Is all Finnick says, his eyes fixed on me with a loving, yet sad, expression in them.

Cal suddenly grabs my hand and pull me to him, making me sit in his lap.

"Alright, now let's chat a little." He says as his hands caress my thighs and sides, whatever he could touch, "I really want to know what happened on this tour."

"Well... nothing much, really. Usual tour... with two victors, but the usual," I laugh it off, putting my hands on Cal's in a poor attempt of keeping them steadier.

I look at Finnick, who's even more tense than before, eyes locked on Cal's hands on me.

"So nothing happened?" Cal presses, grip getting tighter, " nothing? Not even with Peeta Mellark?"

I actually laugh at that.

"With Peeta?" I ask, "why?"

"At the party, at the President's residence, the way he touched you..." he holds me tighter.

"He just wanted to dance, Cal... he's so in love with Katniss, he doesn't look at anyone else." I try to chuckle to make him see how absurd his assumptions are.

"Then why not ask any other woman there?" He keeps holding me.

I look at Finnick, who's ready to jump into action, but at the same time knows he can't do anything.

"Because he's shy." I say, "he might seem like an outgoing guy, but he's really not. He asked me probably because I'm his friend. " I try to stress the word 'friend' to make him understand.

"Yeah, I got to talk to him for a few minutes when they were in 4, he didn't talk much, only awkwardly smiled and let out just a few words." Finnick lies, and thanks to that Cal lets go a little, going back at caressing my thighs. I look at Finnick grateful and he slightly nods.

"You have a talent in making people feel at ease with you, don't you?" Cal compliments and rest his chin on my shoulder, "I really missed you. Did you miss me too?"

"Oh, but of course," I fake another smile as he starts to kiss my neck.

His kisses get more heated as he goes, I look everywhere except Finnick, I can't stand it, not after last time.

"Mmh, fuck," he breaths out, "you smell so good, my sweetness, let's go to the bedroom, shall we, lovelies?"

Cal doesn't give me any time to stand up, he picks me up and, bridal style, he takes me to the bedroom, followed by Finnick.

Cal gently puts me on the bed, goes and sits down on the small couch.

"Take your clothes of, Finnick, leave your underwear on," he instructs, getting comfortable on the couch.

Finnick does as he was told, standing only in his underwear. He's surely been working out while I was gone...

"I want you on your knees in front of her," Cal orders him, "and you, my precious princess, spread those legs for him, okay?"

Finnick comes kneel in front of me, I spread my legs to let him in, avoiding his eyes, that, I know are on me.

"Oh that's good." Cal praises, "now, touch her."

I softly gasp at feeling Finnick's hand on my thigh.

"Not too much, Finnick, you know the rules. No kissing unless I say so."

Finnick only nods and keeps on caressing my tigh bringing it a little closer so his face lightly touches it.

"Look at him, sweetheart, look at him,"

This is how these meetings usually go: Cal tells us how he wants to see us, what he wants us to do, sometimes he just likes to watch and sometimes he like to "play" too.

I don't know if he's so delusional to think we too enjoy this or he just loves control so much that he doesn't care at all.

That's how the "date" went, all night.

Cal enjoying his power over us, he particularly enjoyed teasing Finnick.

"How does it feel like? Knowing she'll never be yours?" He would ask. "You wouldn't be able to touch her if it wasn't for me," "You'll never see her unless I say so." And so on...

"I'll see you soon, my loves," Cal says, leading us back to the elevator, his hand in mine.

"It's never going to be too soon," Finnick's charming smile seems to convince him.

"Never," I agree as we're standing in front of the elevator.

Cal spins me around and kisses me. I'm so stunned, I don't even reciprocate until he squeezes my waist.

"I could never get enough of that," Cal humms, letting me go.

"Feeling's mutual," I say turning around, grateful for the doors to open in that moment.

"Bye bye" he waves and we do the same, keeping up our fake smiles until the doors finally close.

"Oh fuck..." I let out a sigh of relief and unconsciously lean against Finnick's taller frame, who gently wraps an arm around me.

"Feeling's mutual," Finnick says, sighing too.

"Okay... uh... listen," I start, pulling away from his embrace, "we do need to find a way to talk. This ride might be long, but it's not enough..."

"I know... I might have an idea, but you'll have to trust me," he tells me confidently.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Trust me, alright?"

I sigh, but nod.

"Main things... uh... did you talk to Plutarch then?"

"That I did, asked for my company, I thought he was one of the usual stuff, but thankfully it wasn't." He tells me, "you?"

"Same thing, do you know anyone else... knowing?" I ask.

"There are lots of victors who might be involved, but I can't say for sure..." he speaks quietly, "maybe Johanna..."

"Definitely believable," I comment, "you know, I think Haymitch too.. both him and Plutarch said the same exact thing to me and... it just makes sense."

"What about the lovebirds?" He says making quotations with his fingers as he says 'lovebirds'.

"I don't think so..." I shake my head, "Katniss is too focused on wanting to protect her family, to think of a rebellion."

"Alright... it's still a start, don't you think?" He smiles at me.

"Yeah..." I say bitterly.

"What's that tone?" He's concern now.

"Nothing... I just don't want to keep my hopes up, you know?" I look down at my hands, avoiding his eyes.

"Hey... C'mon, look at me, Y/n." He gently takes my hand and pulls me to him.

I reluctantly, but not so much, look up at him, at his reassuring eyes. Sometimes all I want to do is get lost in them and never find my way back, but it's a luxury I can't afford, not right now.

I shake my head turning away from him.

"Listen... I want to hope we might have a shot, okay? I really do... it's just hard after everything," I say, bouncing my leg.

"I know," he sighs, "but, I mean, we've been hoping this whole time... might as well keep it up."

"I guess..." I smile at him, losing myself again in his eyes, I see him leaning closer, but I stop him, I have to. "Don't."

"I'm sorry..." he awkwardly smiles, "don't push me away like this." He whispers, cautiously taking my hand again, "Please."

"We can't... uh... I don't feel the same way... and... you should..." I stutter out, focusing on our hands instead of his face.

"You know you can't like to me, I know you all too well, love," he chuckles and I shake my head.

"We can't," I say and luckily the doors open and I rush out leaving Finnick behind.

I walk as fast as I can to the car, hoping to get home faster so I can freely cry and scream.

Once I get home I jump on my bed, burying my face in the pillows and just let everything out.

Of all people... why him? Love is so unfair...

No... no, not love... this is not love... I'm not in love with him and he is not in love with me.

That was just a trauma response... yes... yes. Nothing more.

He can't actually love me. If he actually did he could get killed because of it... but if it's not actual love, he's safe... yeah, yeah, he's safe. Nothing to worry about...

This is all I think about as I cry myself to sleep.

----------

"You said what?" I almost yell at Plutarch, almost because I don't want to risk being heard.

"He has to trust me. I can't just say 'leave her alone people will forget about her', can I?" Plutarch sighs, pouring whiskey into my glass, which I gladly take.

"I guess not," I let out a sigh, tapping nervously my glass, "what if you're right, though? What if they actually arrive to hate her so much to kill her themselves?"

"Do you think that would happen?" He asks, knowing already my answer.

"No..." I sit back down, "no, sorry, I'm just... scared shitless, alright?"

He nods understanding.

"I need to ask you one thing, miss L/n, and I need you to be honest," He says and I nod for him to ask away, "do you trust me?"

I look at him properly, trying to see if in his eyes there's even a tiny bit of malice.

"I do." I say.

"Good. There will be some things you shouldn't know, not because you might get caught, but because some things will require a genuine reaction from you," he explains with a serious tone.

"I understand." I nod, "Yeah, no problem. I just hope I would be able to help despite Cal" I say his name with a disgusted noise.

"We'll deal with that too," he reassures me with a small smile.

"Thanks," I say drinking some whiskey, "this thing will never happen too soon."

"I know,"

"May I ask... why do you trust me?" I ask, "I mean, to everyone's eyes I'm Snow's protégé... why do you trust me?"

"Haymitch Abernathy doesn't just trust anyone." Is his simple answer, "I'm sure you know that."

I nod, satisfied with the answer.

"They will send more peacekeepers to 12 tomorrow." He tells me.

"Yeah? I'm sure they're eager to start with the punishments" I comment bitterly.

"Yep."

"Katniss won't just stand there and watch." I warn him.

"I know," he says confidently.

I scan his face, he's not worried about it, he's certain and confident as if he planned it.

"You hope she does something," I accuse.

"Haymitch was right about you," he lightly chuckles, "you are smart."

"Don't change the subject, Heavensbee. This is an opportunity, isn't it?" I ask again, he nods, "if Katniss is the fighter I know she is... you'll get your opportunity."

"We'll get our opportunity," he corrects me raising his glass and I do the same.

"I hope you're right about this rebellion, Heavensbee. I really hope." I say and take a sip of whiskey.

And Katniss did something, indeed. It helped that her best friend was the one getting punished. The fact that both Haymitch and Peeta intervened was even better apparently, according to Plutarch. This is one of the parts of the plan I can't know apparently, but he seemed confident so I trust him...

Hope.

We're all depending on that.

-----------

"We'll finally be able to talk tonight," Finnick whispers to me as we stand in the elevator.

"How?" I ask, confused about what he has in mind.

He smiles and shows me what's inside a little bag he brought. A bottle of wine.

"You're gonna drug him?" I ask shocked.

"A tiny bit," he chuckles, "he'll also need to eat this," he shows me a small box of chocolates, "the drug will activate with both, the wine alone is ineffective."

"Yeah... because not drinking would feel suspicious, but we never eats so if we say no to the chocolate... no problem at all," I reason, "genius."

"I have my moments," he smiles proudly and I return the smile.

"I thought..." he clears his voice, "I thought we could also talk about... us?"

"Finnick..." I warn.

"We would have time..." he insists.

"There's no us, okay? Stop it." I sternly say.

"Keeo telling yourself that," he whispers.

From there the ride is silent until we arrive at Cal's apartment.

"Good evening, loves!" He greets us as usual, "how are my favourite people?"

"A little tired, you know, Snow wanted me to check some old records" I lie, not completely I really am tired, but of him.

"I'm actually fresh as a flower," Finnick starts, "I actually would like to celebrate,"

"Oh really?" Cal asks and grabs my hand to pull me to him.

"Yeah, I found this old bottle of fine wine in my home and I thought 'what better time to drink it if not with Cal Kingslay?', you know?" He takes the bottle out and soon after the box.

"And that?" Cal's intrigued.

"Oh this is a special gift for you, to thank you for your generosity," Finnick's ability to lie and charm him leave me stunned everytime.

"Aw that's sweet of you," Cal takes both the bottle and the box, "we'll share the box, loves."

"Oh, Cal, I'm sorry, but I'll have to gently decline, I ate so much today. Maybe later, okay?" I use the sweetest voice I can as he puts the objects on the table. I try to ignore how Finnick's jaw tense when I do this.

"Whatever you say, princess, as long as you say my name like that..." he turns to me wrapping both arms around my waist to pull me completely against his body.

"Alright, big guy," I try to nonchalantly pull away from him, "let's toast, shall we?"

"Of course!" Cal exclaims, taking the bottle and sending a grateful nod at Finnick. He goes to pour three glasses, "to what should we toast?"

"How about the Quartel Quell?" Finnick asks as he takes the glass from Cal's hand.

"Love that!" Cal cheers handing me a glass too, "here, princess."

"Thank you, Cal," I say, using his name again for good measure and he grins at that.

"To the third Quarter Quell!" Cal raises his glass and we quickly follow.

One each of us took a sip of wine, Finnick goes to open the box, offering it to Cal.

"Here."

"Oh so kind," Cal smirks, "you don't mind if I take two, do you?"

"Oh, but of course not, take as many as you want," Finnick gives him his usual charming smile as Cal takes two chocolates.

"You know I love sweets," Cal says putting both candy in his mouth, "mmh! So good!"

"Old recipe," Finnick explains.

I watch the scene, tense, I hope Finnick's plan works...

Not even moment later, Cal goes to sit holding his head.

"Hey, something wrong?" I fake concern.

"No... no I'm good," Cal tries to stand up again, but apparently his legs can't hold him up.

"Alright, let's get you to bed. Maybe you're just a little more tired than you think," I say, he let me help him to bed.

"Fuck..." he groans, once he's laying down, "I was really in the mood,"

"Don't worry, rest a bit, and if you feel like it later... we're here," I reassure him, but actually hoping he won't.

"Thank you, my love," he says drifting off to sleep.

I cautiously walks back out of the room and back to Finnick.

He looks at me with expectation written all over his face.

"He's asleep," I whisper, with the biggest smile.

"Yes!" He whisper-shouts.

"God... I wish we could do it every single time," I sigh relieved.

"Unfortunately he would get suspicious, but it's a nice dream," Finnick agrees.

"How much time do you think we have?" I ask sitting with him at the table.

"About... 2 hour and a half... maybe more since he took two chocolates," he explains.

"That's great... this might mean we wouldn't even have to do anything at all..." I chuckle and Finnick does too.

"Alright..." he lowers his voice, "I'm pretty sure, a very good part of the Victors are part of this thing"

"Well, Haymitch for sure... but I don't think he will let Katniss and Peeta know anything," I tell him.

"Why not?" He asks frowning.

"Katniss is basically supervised everywhere she goes... it would be too risky..." I explain simply, "do you know what happened today?"

"What?"

"New Peacemakers arrived in 12," I start, "Plutarch suggested more severe punishments,"

"What? Why?" Finnick almost exclaims, there's a deeper frown on his face now.

"It's a way to let himself in, Snow will never trust him otherwise." I sigh, "it sucks, I know. If Snow grows suspicious, we're fucked."

"I know," he sounds defeated.

"But the thing is," I start again, "this, according to Plutarch, created a perfect opportunity. He was so confident today when I saw him leaving a meeting with Snow, I think the plan is in motion."

" I can't fucking believe," he genuinely smiles, "it's really happening... and I mean, can you believe 13 is still alive?"

"I know!" I exclaim in a whisper, I wish I could just shout it sometimes, "it's crazy."

"You know... for the first time I saw some hope in Mags and not just defeat."

I smile at that, I know how important Mags is for him. When I was assigned to assisting district 4's mentors, Mags was always so kind to us... treating us like family.

"That's really nice to hear," I softly say, gently putting a hand on top of his.

He waits a moment before covering my hand with his other one, stroking it gently. I really should pull away, but this gentle, genuine touch is something I haven't felt in a long time. I look up, Finnick's already looking my way with a soft smile.

"You know, I can't wait." He says.

"For..." I clear my voice, "for what?"

"Finally kiss you." He simply states.

"Finnick... for the millionth time..."

"You don't feel the same... yeah, yeah, yeah." He interrupts me, standing up and taking me with him, "you can lie to yourself, but not to me. What I feel for you is-"

"Is not real." It's my turn to interrupt him.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" He challenges.

"Oh god..." I let out a frustrated sigh, "it's just trauma response, okay? You don't love me, Finn. And I don't love you."

"Okay... so... why didn't you pull away yet and you're letting me, basically, cuddle you?" He challenges again, this actually makes me notice how close we are and how his hands are gently caressing and massaging my body.

I instantly pull away, earning a small laugh from him.

"You really need to stop it," I say, to convince myself, rather than him.

"But you're just so beautiful," he smirks, but it not like Cal's smirk... it's playful, he's not making me uncomfortable, he's just teasing, I know that if he actually made me uncomfortable he would stop right away.

"Alright, stop it." I can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You don't believe yourself either... C'mon." He walks closer to me, "dance with me."

"There's not music and I don't think putting something on will help our case with the sleeping beauty," I remind him.

"Just dance with me, c'mon, love," he holds his hand out for me to take and I do. I let him pull me to him and slowly moving to an imaginary rhythm.

He holds me to me him with so much care I could just melt here and now. I have to admit, it does feel nice.

I just keep reminding myself that it's not love, but two people comforting each other... right?

Right?

As I let Finnick lead, my mind can't help but go to next week event... the announcement of the third Quarter Quell... and my engagement.

I try to shake away the thought and focus on Finnick's body close to mine, how his taller frame is not imposing or constricting, but protective.

I try to focus on the fact that Plutarch's plan is probably going to work... hope.

All I focus about: hope and Finnick.

I'm afraid the two aren't so different for me.

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

The crowd is cheering like never before.

It's the announcement of the third Quarter Quell, after all.

I watch Snow taking his place in front of all Capitol's citizens, I sit with the rest of 'Capitol's elite' in the back, waiting for the big theme of this year's games.

I can't help but slightly bounce my leg, knowing what's coming after that.

"Are you okay, my sweetness?" Cal's voice startles me, I almost forgot he was next to me.

"Yeah," I force out a smile, "just excited to discover the theme of this year,"

"Plutarch didn't tell you?" He asks taken aback, "I thought he wanted you as an assistant, maybe he didn't have the chance yet... I hope I didn't ruin any surprise,"

"Oh, don't worry, Cal," I say, "I'll try to act surprised."

He smiles at me and I now try to contain my excitement, real excitement. Plutarch did find a way of creating chances for me to stay away from Cal.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Snow starts and my attention is back on him, "This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games" he announces and che crowd cheers and screams, "and it was written in the charter of the Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the 75th anniversary of pur defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell..." as the crowd cheers again, Snow takes out a chard, "... as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol."

Wait...

"On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes"

I don't like this...

"Are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."

I can't help my shocked expression, what...? I try to look for Plutarch, but I can't see him.

"Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health or situation."

This is the last place I want to be right now, i can't even listen to any more words from the President's mouth.

I don't even know what to think... if this is Plutarch's idea, I really don't know what he thinks he would get from it...

Oh god...

Finnick...

Finnick said a good part of the Victors are part of this rebellion... maybe that's what Plutarch has in mind.

Fuck.

I snap back at the present when I feel Cal's hand touching mine.

"And now," Snow's voice completely grounds be back, "our very own, Cal Kingslay, would like to say a few words,"

Cal stands up and joins Snow at the front.

"Thank you, president. It's an honour being here today, to celebrate this very special third Quarter Quell," the crowd applauses, "and... I want to thank every single person here today for the support they showed after my father's passing. So I thought to share the following moment with you all,"

My chest tightens, my heart is pounding inside so much it feel like it's about to explode... and I would be glad if it happened.

"There's one person, who's always being there for me... she's the one who always knows hot to make me smile, I only need to think of her and I'm suddenly a lot better... that is why..."

He turns around and walks towards me, my eyes are wide open. I try to make it seems like I'm excited and not absolutely terrified.

He comes in fron of me and goes down on one knee.

"Shit.." I breath out. He nervously smile as he takes something from his jacket.

The interaction would've felt like a very sweet moment... in other circumstances.

"So, Y/n L/n would you give me the honour of becoming my wife?" He asks, opening a small box revealing a silver ring with a stone embedded.

He looks at me and I look at Snow, who's looking at me with a look I know all too well.

"Do it or there would be consequences."

I look back at Cal and move my hand to make him stand, I don't think I would be able to speak without betraying myself, so... I kiss him.

#the hunger games fic #hunger games fic #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x y/n

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imaslave4u · 2 years

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Britney performing at Rock in Rio Brazil (January 18, 2001)

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starsandhughes · 6 months

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Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Three)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: two

next: four

a/n yes that's the stars new locker room and yes that does mean they're better than everyone else because LOOK AT IT

OCTOBER 19, 2023

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _wyattjohnston, and 15,423 others

yourusername welcome back to my penalty box update show: I MET THE DALLAS STARS EDITION!

dad (troy) scored the first goal of the game less than five minutes into the first, and my z-baby got an assist, giving him his first point of the season! it's about damn time, my love!

not only did he get his first point, he also got his second (and technically third but... that was for too many men) penalty. if you'll notice, i did not use an exclamation point, and that is because he hooked hakanpää and had an... extra reaction to it... (i love you, babe, but please... you do not want to hear what razor and bogo had to say...) (i love you) (but oh my god) (it was hot tho) (just next time don't do it against a star)

my quackies worked really hard tonight, they just didn't get the dub in the end :( but mine and trevor's son, leo (@/leocarlssoon) SCORED HIS FIRST NHL GOAL TONIGHT! IN HIS DEBUT! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU, CURRENT FAVORITE CHILD! I LOVE YOU SM! MWAH!

p.s. @_wyattjohnston sorry my boyfriend was a pest! he's still being trained <3 it's all business! i promise, he's a sweetheart! thank you for the locker room tour and for introducing me to some of the other guys! i loved it and i’m utterly obsessed with you!

p.s.s. @/masconmctavish23 DO NOT TRIP HARLS AGAIN! I WILL FIGHT YOU!

p.s.s.s. i love you, always, my sweet boy🧡 (despite your faults)

tagged trevorzegras

view all 176 comments

trevorzegras i'm your fiancé?

yourusername you've been downgraded since you caused jamie benn to intervene on your nonsense

trevorzegras YOU'RE PRO NONSENSE

yourusername NOT AGAINST THE STARS!

_wyattjohnston @/trevorzegras is she serious?

trevorzegras @_wyattjohnston probably not

jamie.drysdale @_wyattjohnston she's just quirky

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale WHY DOES EVERYONE USE QUIRKY TO DESCRIBE ME?!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername it's the nicest word available

trevorzegras @/yourusername you're also my precious weirdo! i love you, forever!

yourusername @/trevorzegras @.jamie.drysdale i can't tell if i’m being attacked or not

trevorzegras @/yourusername probably not

user61 AHHH SISSY LIVED HER DREAM!!!!

user9 oop- hope that wasn't awkward with trevor and wyatt's sass off😭

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you're doing amazing, sweatie!

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale this is why we aren't living together this year

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale stop lying to the people! he lives 2 minutes away and moved out because we're having a baby!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras and we've already had sleepovers!

trevorzegras @/yourusername @.jamie.drysdale could you two just let me be dramatic?

yourusername @/trevorzegras i think that might kill me

jackhughes @/trevorzegras sissy is dramatic enough for all of us. so no.

yourusername @/jackhughes will you ever not butt in on a conversation between me and z?

jackhughes @/yourusername i think that might kill me

leocarlssoon love you, too, mom! thanks for the mini trophy! and the post game goodie bag!

yourusername you're ever so welcome, my son! (you'll get a trophy every year for your first goal) (and a goodie bag after every game!!!)

trevorzegras @/leocarlssoon I'M SO STOKED FOR YOU, SON!

leocarlssoon @/trevorzegras thanks, dad! does she really give everyone a post game goodie bag?

trevorzegras @/leocarlssoon she does! she sends me with them on roadies she can't go to

yourusername @/leocarlsson i also give them to former teammates because i still loves them

trevorzegras @/yourusername love*

yourusername @/trevorzegras i said what i said! i love them a lot! plural love!

user72 z really went from precious baby child in the box for no reason to hot angry man sitting for his sins

_wyattjohnston it was great meeting you! let's hang out a little longer when the ducks come to dallas

yourusername and if i told you i go to ever dallas game against one of my friends/brothers as humanly possible?

_wyattjohnston i'll see you november 4th then😂

t.harley48 @/yourusername i also enjoyed meeting you and will see you on the 4th! and you really don't need to fight mctavish for me!

yourusername @/t.harley48 it's a little too late for that

jamie.drysdale @/t.harley48 he's fine, he just got wacked outside the head

masonmctavish23 @/jamie.drysdale speak for yourself

t.harley48 @/jamie.drysdale is this normal?

jamie.drysdale @/t.harley48 only for tripping, slashing, boarding, elbowing, head contact, and fighting penalties against you guys

_wyattjohnston @/yourusername you're too kind

yourusername @_wyattjohnston thanks, it's kinda my thing

tydellandrea53 @/yourusername i wanna meet you! you seem fun!

jamie.drysdale @/tydellandrea53 she wacked mac-t for tripping thomas

tydellandrea53 @/jamie.drysdale sounds fun to me

yourusername @/tydellandrea53 you get me

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras @.jamie.drysdale how much did she cry?

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes she was surprisingly fine... it was scary

jamie.drysdale @_quinnhughes she saved the freak out for when she got home

_quinnhughes there's my girl

user37 i need to know if sissy gets disappointed when the stars lose against one of her boys

_quinnhughes she says no, but we can all tell she is

jackhughes she's a traitor

_wyattjohnston @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes our bad

lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras you're making it really hard to want to bet on you for canucks v ducks games

trevorzegras @/lhughes_06 i swear i’m trying to

yourusername @/trevorzegras istg if you make me owe jack a lot of money again we're getting a divorce

trevorzegras @/yourusername we aren't married yet!

yourusername @/trevorzegras i’ll wait.

jackhughes @/trevorzegras good luck!

_alexturcotte @/yourusername most of the time when a marriage is destroyed by gambling addictions, the other person files for divorce

yourusername @_alexturcotte sucks for them but i'm different

leocarlssoon @/yourusername what are you betting on?

trevorzegras @/leocarlssoon please don't get in on this

_quinnhughes @/leocarlssoon it's the high limit lounge in vegas on ducks v canucks games. stay away.

edwards.73 @/leocarlssoon it's hell week in one night three times a year

jackhughes @/leocarlssoon there's lots of screaming and fighting and crying

colecaufield @/leocarlssoon and it's not just jack and y/n this time

slknight35 @/yourusername i’m in

yourusername @/slknight35 buckle up buttercup! you're in for a wild ride in the gc

matthew_tkachuk @/yourusername i’m intrigued

yourusername @/matthew_tkachuk welcome to the shitshow, matty ratty😈

_quinnhughes @/yourusername stop turning everyone into gamblers

yourusername @_quinnhughes no <3

user45 BLUE SUIT! BLUE SUIT! BLUE SUIT!

colecaufield @/trevorzegras you embarrassed your girl

trevorzegras @/colecaufield wrong. i pissed off my girl.

yourusername @/trevorzegras that's not better

trevorzegras @/yourusername i’m just trying to be honest!

colecaufield @/yourusername we love an honest dad!

yourusername @/colecaufield i mean i guess

trevorzegras @/yourusername mwah!🧡

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras sissy will never let this go

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes i fear this will be worse

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras she met some of the stars so maybe not?

yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale @_quinnhughes i haven't decided yet

trevorzegras well that's terrifying

yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!🧡

#penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x hughes reader #jamie drysdale #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes #cole caufield #wyatt johnston #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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wrestletotheground · 1 month

Text

pierced - ross macdonald x reader

cw: 18+ minors dni!!! smut, sub ross (ik I'm losing the run of myself), established relationship, nipple piercings, sexual tension, sending nudes, ab riding, unprotected sex

a/n: the long awaited Nipple Piercing Gf Fic™️ is here at last 🥳 this took way too long to be this mid but enjoy whores <3 (esp anon who requested this months ago oops)

wc: 2.8k

today is the day. you're finally seeing ross after 3 weeks of him being away on tour. he's arranged to have you flown in to one of the shows and to spend a few days with him and the band.

as you walk through the arrival gates of the airport, you're instantly met with three familiar faces. george, matty and ross are standing watching the door, waiting for you. as soon as they see you their faces light up. of course you run straight to ross, who's walking towards you with his arms out holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. he embraces you in his arms, both of you gushing about how much you missed each other while your face is buried in his chest.

you pull away after a few moments and take the flowers, your heart melting at the gesture, to greet the others. matty brings you in for a hug, a sleepy smile on his face as he exclaims how they've all been dying to see you.

george does the same, and when you step back he's the first to notice the new piercings poking through your t-shirt. he looks up at you, a knowing look in his eyes and a smirk pulling at his mouth. 'oh he's going to lose his mind', he says quietly with a grin. you giggle and hit his arm lightly, then make your way over to ross again.

that's when he catches sight of them. he's been staring at you ever since you approached him but now his eyes are instantly drawn to the metal balls of your nipple piercings showing through the cotton of your baby tee. his jaw practically hits the floor before his face catches up with his brains and he looks back up at you, wide eyed. you smile innocently as he looks away, rubbing his lip with his hand and smiling to himself in an attempt to hide how flustered he's getting. 'what?' you cock your head to the side, acting oblivious.

'baby.. did you..' his gaze flicks back down as he speaks, staring in disbelief. 'I got them done the day after you left, thought you'd like a little surprise after being away for so long,' you say. 'fucking hell,' he mutters, his face flushed. he adjusts his jeans not-so subtly and shifts his stance, clearly getting worked up over the jewelry.

'you like them?' you ask with a smirk. 'do i like them?? darling if it wasn't frowned upon to fuck you in public i'd know what they taste like already'. you glance over at the others who are most definitely in earshot of the unfiltered sentence that's just left your boyfriend's mouth but it's not like they haven't heard worse from the two of you before anyway.

'right lovebirds, off we go. this car's not gonna drive itself,' george states, flicking his keys in his hand before setting off towards the car park. him and matty lead the way with you and ross following closely, just far enough behind so you can both talk properly.

the entire walk ross has you on his arm, every so often leaning in to whisper vulgar promises of the things he's gonna do to you once you're alone later. your other hand grips onto the bouquet tightly as your whole body burns with desire for him already, and you've only just arrived. this is going to be a long day.

the four of you are settled and on the road when matty explains the plan for the day to you. 'so we're going straight to the venue for sound check, then out for dinner with everyone, then it's showtiiime baby'. ross's eyes widen and his head snaps towards the front of the car. 'wait a minute, what? I thought we were going back to the hotel first,' he says, trying to hide the desparation in his tone as he looks over at you.

'no time, sorry mate I know you've missed her but it'll have to wait til later,' matty replies, throwing you a wink in the rear view mirror. 'right fuck off,' he laughs, covering his face and hanging his head in exaggerated shame. you stifle a giggle, grabbing hold of his hand that's resting on the middle seat.

the rest of the car ride is simmering with tension between you and ross. although you're acting casual with the other two in the front seats, you can't help the pulsing ache that's building in your core, worsening every time you catch the glint in his eyes as you're talking.

sound check goes pretty well, and it's great to be reunited with the rest of the band and crew that you've missed from last time you were on tour with them. well, except for the fact ross keeps getting distracted by you, messing up bass lines that have been purely muscle memory for years every time he glances over to the edge of the stage where you're sitting chatting with carly. every time you catch his eye you give him a smile and an encouraging nod to let him know you're listening to him play.

as sound check finishes, everyone agrees that they don't want to go anywhere too fancy to eat, and that's how you find yourself in the booth in the corner of a local retro style diner. ross is involved in nearly every conversation you're a part of, completely enamoured by you as usual. you're in the middle of a conversation with him, polly and john about their spotify wrapped when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, leaving the three of them talking amongst themselves.

you lock the cubicle door behind you when an idea springs to mind. you sit on the closed toilet lid and take your phone out of your pocket. you open the camera, lifting the hem of your tshirt up to your neck and leaving your whole chest on display. you cover one of your tits with your open palm, making sure to have the nipple on show through your spread fingers. you snap a few pictures and then flick through them quickly to find the best one that shows off every curve just right. you open your chats with ross and hit send without a second thought.

ross's phone buzzes on the table and when he checks to see the picture in his inbox he nearly chokes on his drink. he rushes to hide his phone under the table, earning strange glances from a few of the others, which quickly dissipate into the back of his mind when he turns down his brightness and enlarges the picture. his pants suddenly feel too tight, and he's fighting the urge to run into the bathroom and bend you over the sink there and then, make you scream for him. he clicks the phone off and shoves it into his back pocket, clearing his throat to cover the desperate groan that lingers in his throat.

you saunter back over to the table with your boyfriend's flustered gaze watching you the whole way. he leans in close to you as soon as you're sat. 'you're killing me, love,' he whispers. 'oh baby, it'd be no fun if i wasn't, you know that,' you reply in a hushed tone, planting your hand on his thigh as you take a sip of your diet coke.

the concert goes pretty well, except for the fact that ross is distracted by the thought of you the whole time, standing side stage watching and waiting for him.

he's never been more thankful for the fact he plays bass so low as it covers the achingly obvious bulge in his trousers that's there practically the whole two hours they're performing.

the rest of the guys had gone out for drinks after the show, but you and ross literally couldn't wait a second longer than necessary to be alone.

after an excruciating elevator ride alongside a tired, unassuming businessman, you finally get to your hotel room. he's fumbling with the key as you wait impatiently beside him, already shivering at the thought of his touch.

he finally gets the key to work and barges through the door, barely having a chance to slam it behind the two of you and flick on the light before he has you pinned against the wall, kissing and grabbing at you like a starved man. his mouth melts against yours, his taste almost overwhelming.

your jacket falls to the floor behind you, giving him a full view of your hardened nipples through the tshirt again. 'get this off darling, need to see you,' he mumbles, already dizzy at the feeling of you against him at last.

you oblige, making a bit of a show out of it just to tease him even more. you fling it onto the floor behind you and he nearly falls to his knees at the sight. literally. he gets on his knees in front of you so that the piercings are at eye level with him, utterly enraptured by you. 'fuck,' he mumbles, before burying his face in your chest, moving around to swipe his tongue over the place he's been dying to taste all day.

you grab his head and pull him further into you, the pressure making your head spin. your head rolls back and all you can hear are your own sugary sweet moans and the wet noises of his mouth working it's magic on you.

'get on the bed, need to be on you,' you say through stuttered breaths. he moans into your tit, reluctantly moving his head back up to yours and dragging you over until he falls onto the bed with you between his legs.

you immediately pull his top off, throwing it off somewhere behind him. you watch the way his necklace bounces onto his chest and nearly fold at the sight of him. then without warning you pull down your trousers and practically jump onto him, pushing him down onto his back. his eyes flash with darkness, muttering under his breath as he drinks in your body greedily. you shuffle down to undo his pant zipper, a hungry look plastered across your face. after some fumbling and a nod of approval from him, you manage to get his jeans and briefs off, leaving him fully undressed and achingly hard.

the second you're back on top of him he pulls your neck down to meet his lips in a bruising kiss, practically devouring each other.

the sudden contact of your spread cunt with his skin makes you gasp, he's real, he's there. much as you tried over the past few weeks, your hand has been a weak replacement for him, for the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces of euphoria.

you hook your finger under his chain, tugging it towards you with just enough force to make the gold metal dig into the back of his neck, forcing him to strain up towards you.

'are you gonna be a good boy and let me get off first or do you want me to make you beg for it?' you're practically mewling to him, tilting your head back and looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

'yes- ah- fuck- please love, use me- mfh,' he whines, biting his lip as you roll your hips back, your ass pressing against his aching cock.

you start to grind slowly on his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tighten and contract with every breath. his belly has always been one of your favourite parts of him, and you make sure he knows it.

'fuck, i've missed you baby, missed this,' you moan, the friction hitting just right as he arches up into you ever so slightly.

he grabs a strong hold of your hips, guiding your movements and gaping up at you. 'that feel good?' he asks shyly. 'so fucking good, you've- mmh- no idea.' that's clearly exactly what he needed to hear, you can feel his cock jumping at your words, tipping off your lower back.

you can feel your slick spreading down further by the second as you near your peak, nearly reaching your thighs.

he pulls you closer onto him, desperate to please you as he rocks your pussy over him. 'god, I'm gonna cum, you feel so good, fuck.' you study his face, in a state of hazy disbelief over how hot he is, and your stomach tightens rapidly when you hit a certain angle. 'right there- keep going- ughhhh GOD ross.'

your orgasm washes over you in waves as your eyes roll into your head, trying to keep your shaky figure from falling onto him as you ride out your high. his fingertips dig into your sides and his eyes glaze over with lust, fixated on your every move. 'you're so fucking beautiful falling apart on me like that,' he whispers. 'you're fucking perfect, I love you,' you reply, smashing your mouth against his again, messier this time.

the hairs that litter his lower stomach are soaked, covered in you. just below that his cock is leaking and swollen, looking like he could cum right there and then untouched, and the sight alone makes your mouth water.

'since you've been so good for me, what do you want?' you ask, running a hand down his face and around the back of his neck.

'you, fuck, ride me, please' he stutters, chest rising and falling rapidly under you. as though any inhibitions have been wiped from his brain.

he's so desperate it's honestly cute. it's rare that he's so submissive but you're relishing in the power rushing to your head.

's'that what you want baby?' he nods his head quickly and his hips lift into you subconsciously, desperately. you rise up on your knees and shuffle backwards, lining him up with your dripping entrance.

he's barely inside you and he's already straining and groaning, his face turning red as he tries his best to hold out for you. you start moving up and down with fervor, greedily chasing your own high again. you can tell neither of you are going to last long with the fact you've been apart for so much time.

his eyes are drawn to the piercings again and he looks up at you pleadingly. you lean forward, starting to circle your hips as he dips his head down to take one in his mouth. your eyes roll back as the feeling of his tongue circling your sensitive nipples sends electricity shooting through you. 'fuck, knew you'd love it baby,' you moan, your hand running through his hair, tugging lightly every time he hits just right. his thighs tremble under you as you continue your unrelenting pace.

'being so fucking good for me,' you say, just to tease him even more. his eyebrows wrinkle and you can feel his movements getting less and less controlled, signalling that he's close.

'please, can I cum, please, mmh, need it,' he whines. his grip on your waist tightens as he pleads, teeth digging into his lip so hard you think it might bleed.

you lean down, never slowing your pace, and whisper in his ear.

'let go. cum for me, pretty boy'

his brain all but shuts down as his climax instantly crashes over him. unrestrained curses and groans fall from his raw red lips as his warmth pulses inside you. his hips buck off the mattress, burying his cock deeper inside you than before. the look on his face, eyes creased in ecstasy and jaw slack in pleasure is what tips you over the edge. with a final roll of your hips into him, the band inside you snaps. fireworks dance across your vision, crying out as you grip onto his shoulders, practically convulsing.

'fuckkkfuckfuck thank you, thank you,' he whimpers, eyes blown out with lust as he stares at you in awe. you finally let yourself collapse onto him, completely exhausted. his chest heaves under you as both of you catch your breath.

you prop your chin up on his chest, faces inches apart, letting comfortable silence envelop the two of you. his cheeks heat up, as if the realisation is dawning of just how submissive he's been. 'did you like that baby?' you ask. 'fuck, I loved it, you need to do that more often,' he laughs.

you sit up suddenly when you feel something dripping out of you slowly, and giggle at his reaction. his jaw is dropped, eyes focused on your core before he blinks and comes to. 'god, sorry- I just- right, let's get cleaned up,' he says, leaning up on his elbows. you press a kiss to his forehead to which he smiles, before following you up into the bathroom.

#ross macdonald smut #ross macdonald #ross macdonald oneshot #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 #matty healy #trumanblack #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 smut

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loki-hargreeves · 2 years

Text

An Eye For An Eye

Pairing: Marc Spector x f!Reader, Steven Grant x f!Reader, Jake Lockley x f!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Kidnapping, graphic descriptions of violence, death threats/thoughts of dying, mentions of body mutilation [doesn’t happen though], using a gun for self-defense, character death [murder], mentions of blood, dark undertones, hurt/comfort, angst, vulgar language, some references to Moon Knight comics, Marc is very sad, loads of crying, somewhat of a fluffy ending

Word Count: 13K [oops..]

Summary: Raul Bushman has a personal grudge against Marc Spector and he takes it out on you. When he kidnaps you, he taunts Marc by sending a video of you as his hostage. With the help of Khonshu, the Moon boys come to your rescue - which is unfortunate for Raul. Once you’re safe again, Marc can’t bring himself to face you because of the guilt so Steven and Jake take care of you.

A/N: Ok I realize it’s a bit bloody and teary but I had to get this out of my head. I hope you enjoy it! <3

DISCLAIMER! Please do not proceed to read this if the mentioned warnings and tags include topics that could possibly trigger or harm you. Take care of yourself.

“Darling, I’m home!” Steven’s cheerful voice replaced the silence of your shared flat as he finally came back home from work. The new museum he worked at was wonderful and his first week of being a tour guide had just come to an end. Steven was over the moon and knowing he was coming home to you only made him feel even better, as if he was literally walking on sunshine.

For once in his life, all seemed to be going so well. Steven felt invincible in a way. Little did he know of the drastic turn that would take place much sooner than anticipated.

When all he was met with was silence, Steven began to worry. Since you had told them you’d be home before them, it was odd that you weren’t there. Refusing to jump to conclusions, Steven pulled out his phone from his pocket and searched for you name in his contacts, calling you as he made his way further inside the apartment to inspect everything. The only sound he heard was the beeping dial tone.

You’d pick up and have an explanation. Everything was fine.

Steven turned the lights on and looked around the place. Your phone or wallet weren’t anywhere to be seen and the note he had left for you on the kitchen counter had been completely untouched. That was definitely odd. Usually you left a note for him too, especially if you were going somewhere. The bright, little notes were some of Steven’s favourite things.

“She’s not answering,” Steven said out loud, staring at the phone screen that let him know you hadn’t picked up the call. Marc and Jake were aware of what was going on, both of their minds racing to different places. Neither of those places were good.

Call her again, Marc demanded, trying hard not to let his fear get the best of him. Then again, Marc knew you. He knew that you would let them know if you wouldn’t show up when agreed. Perhaps for an ordinary couple, this wasn’t a big deal but Marc had enemies. Jake had enemies. Steven had them too, now. It was one of their greatest fears that one day those enemies would find you.

As Steven walked around the flat frantically, his heart began to beat harder all the way in his throat, it felt like. The dial tone was taunting him, making seconds feel like minutes as it kept on ringing.

“Pick up, pick up...please,” Steven made his way to the window, looking down at the London street that was illuminated by the yellow street lights. Darkness had swallowed the blue sky and you were somewhere out there, not picking up the phone. This was so unlike you and it gnawed at Steven’s heart. He didn’t even wish to imagine you in any sort of danger.

Shouldn’t have let her walk home at this hour alone! Jake had jumped to the worst conclusions. Steven looked at the man whose reflection showed up in the nearby mirror. Jake looked like he was about to explode from worry and anger, barely containing such intense feelings.

“Don’t say that!” Steven couldn’t bear it. There was no way he would let them assume the worst so soon. “Maybe she’s staying late. Let’s meet her half way, yeah? Come on, out we go!”

Steven was glad he hadn’t taken off his shoes yet as he rushed back outside, making sure he had his keys after the fact he had closed the front door and he was already in the elevator. The mirrors in the small space made it easy to see all the alters, yet somehow it wasn’t very comforting. Not when all of them were so clearly concerned over your safety. It was almost as if they just knew you weren’t staying late. This was much worse than that. There was a sick feeling in Steven’s gut as he stood there, waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

The feeling was growing worse by the second, spreading like fire and tugging at his guts until he felt nauseous. What if Jake was right? What if you were hurt? Lying in a ditch somewhere, cold and beaten, all alone.

The notification sound of his phone snapped Steven out of his thoughts. He ripped the phone out of his pocket and felt a wave of relief crashing against him when he saw your name on the screen.

“Oh thank heavens,” Steven almost felt like laughing as he thought about how worried he felt. Overreacting never did any good for anyone. There he was now, unlocking his phone and waiting to see your message. In all honesty, Steven expected something short and simple, just letting him know you’d be able to call him soon. When he saw a video file with a pitch black background and no other message, the relief was stolen from him just as quickly as it had arrived.

Steven knew he had to open it but every cell in his body told him not to click it. He froze, brown eyes glued at the screen in terror as he anticipated what would happen next.

It was Marc who fronted next, taking control of the body as Steven took too long to think about his next actions. Marc pressed the play button and then took a deep breath, but nothing could’ve possibly prepared him for what they were all about to see.

The video began and immediately chains were more easily visible, leading up to you. There you were, chained to what looked like a bed in a dark room. The volume was on full but no sounds were heard. Whoever had filmed the video zoomed in on your face, eyelashes resting against your bloodied cheeks. To believe you were just asleep would've been foolish. Someone must've knocked you out one way or another, a realization that made Marc sick to his stomach. Blood was boiling in his body, so much so he could hear it in his ears and feel how his skin was set on fire with rage. Whoever did that to you would pay for it with their life. That was certain.

Suddenly, the person who was filming it flipped the camera and revealed his face. The man was smiling cruelly since he knew exactly who was watching the clip and how he was reacting. Marc recognized that evil gleam from anywhere since he knew this man extremely well. That was Raul Bushman. A mercenary, just like Marc used to be although these days Raul Bushman was better known as a fucking terrorist. Marc had hoped the past would stay in the past but evidently, it had not. Life wasn't ever that simple. Now Raul was there, in the present with you as his hostage. Knowing how wicked Raul was terrified Marc because he couldn't be sure he would find you in time.

Don't go there, you have to focus! Jake was already in action mode, planning on how they would track this man down and bring you back home safely. If they let panic overtake them then it could cost you your life. There was no way any of them could let that happen. Steven was dead silent for once, not finding a single thing to say at that moment. Fear had completely enveloped him, but not fear for his own sake. Steven was scared he'd never see you again and for what? Because a sick man wanted to hurt you? How was that fair?

"Marc Spector," Raul addressed Marc in the video, simultaneously letting Steven know that this was personal. Jake had recognized that tattooed face as well. Steven hadn't as Marc's memories of his mercenary past weren't something he could personally recall.

Marc was thinking about ripping Raul's face off as he anticipated what he was going to say next. Did he want money? That didn't seem likely. Whatever he wanted, Marc was willing to give it if he could get you back. The killing could happen afterwards.

"I've got your girl," Raul chuckled, enjoying this for some sick and twisted reason. "She's not very chatty anymore. You should've heard her earlier! Did you teach her to speak like that or did you find yourself a sailor? Very vulgar, Spector. So naughty."

Marc who is that? Steven's voice barely carried above a whisper as he stared at Marc from the reflection of the elevator mirror. The elevator had reached the first floor but they had no intentions of leaving just yet. Running around in circles with no leads would be a waste of time.

Marc ignored Steven and forced himself to keep watching the video, his grip on the phone so strong it was a miracle it hadn't snapped in half yet. That's when Jake began to explain things to Steven in the background, their words turning into a haze as Marc stood there, in utter shock and disbelief at it all. He could only watch as Raul flipped the camera over to you once again and that's when the tears threatened to spill. How could he have let something like this happen to you? The love of his life, the sweetest and most wonderful person that had ever walked the earth. Marc felt so guilty. If you were to die now he would never forgive himself. Not in a million years and more.

"I'm sure you'd love to hear some conditions or whatever but the truth is," Raul sighed dramatically as he caressed your cheek, wiping away the blood, "I have none. The only reason I'm doing this is because of you. I'm curious to know what made you so soft and pathetic. What a waste of a man you are."

Just like that, the video ended. Raul's words echoed in Marc's head loudly, drumming into his skull and every beat made him feel worse. Marc could hear Steven and Jake yelling but none of their words made sense. The overwhelming worry and anger were over-spilling and Marc couldn't take it. He turned on his heel and punched the mirror as hard as he could, letting out a pained and frustrated shout and most likely alarming everyone else in the building but he couldn't have cared less. The smashed mirror showed Marc thousands of small reflections as glass fell on the floor. Crimson red was running down his knuckles angrily, most likely dripping on the floor. Marc didn't care. He only cared about finding you.

So did Jake who took control, needing to work on his plan immediately and not let Marc or Steven waste any more time. Jake pressed the elevator button back to their floor, leaving blood on the buttons. Whoever walked into the elevator next would have a surprise awaiting them. Raul Bushman, on the other hand, had something much worse awaiting him. If he thought for one second that he was more powerful than them, he was wrong and Jake was going to hunt him down no matter what it took. Touching you was the biggest mistake the poor excuse of a man had ever made.

The first thing you noticed as consciousness was coming back to you was the dreadful headache you had. It made you whine in pain as you tried to roll over, only to realize you were unable to move your arms. Horror spread throughout you as you remembered what had happened, eyes popping open as you took in the dark surroundings. The room was dim and quite small too, with only a bed and a dresser. It didn't have a window so it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night. As creepy as it was, it didn't smell bad. You had expected the thick copper scent of blood to linger in the air or of something foul and rotting. Perhaps the cleanliness meant you weren't in a creepy dungeon but instead in a preoccupied building? Was that a good thing or not? You didn't know.

Stay calm, you repeated that to yourself as you took a few deep breaths. Freaking out wouldn't do you any good but it wasn't easy to steady your breaths either. As the memories came back to you, you could feel yourself slipping onto a world of doubt and worry. The man who had found you was absolutely terrifying. Not only was he tall enough to tower over you with ease, but his teeth also looked sharp and metallic. The man had scars all over his body and a look in his brown eyes that had told you he wasn't merciful at all. Years of hardships decorated every inch of his skin but he didn't seem to let that drag him down. He used it as armour, which made him evermore dangerous.

Just as you had feared, the door opened, allowing artificial light to pour inside for only a moment as he walked in. The door shut loudly and with a click, which meant it was locked. The tall man turned on the ceiling light, the single bulb hanging from the ceiling allowing you to see better, only to realize his cold eyes were glued to you. When he made his way further inside the small room, you could hardly hear his footsteps as your heart was thudding so loudly against your rib cage. How were you supposed to remain calm when a scary man had you chained down like an animal? What was he going to do? What did he want from you?

"You're awake sooner than expected," He finally spoke, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Thought you’d be weaker.”

"What do you want from me?"

The man didn't reply instantly but judging by the stern look on his face, he had clearly heard you. For whatever reason he actually took his sweet time thinking about his reply as he circled the bed, never tearing his eyes off of you. As he reached the wooden dresser, he dragged a gun out of a holster and placed it on the surface with a loud thud, making sure it was pointed directly at you so even when the gun was untouched and simply resting on the dresser, it kept you on edge.

"What do I want from you? That's a silly question," He finally spoke, much more relaxed now that you were chained down and silent. "Nothing really. You're here because of Marc Spector," your lover's name was spoken as if it was poison on his tongue, every syllable tasting rancid.

"Why?" You decided it was better to talk to this man instead of being tortured. The more time you wasted like this, the better were your chances of survival. Surely, they were coming for you. The moment you thought about them, you felt a pang of guilt in your gut. Marc was probably freaking out by now. Steven must've been so scared. Jake? Oh Jake, he wouldn’t show it but you knew the protective man was ridden with anxiety. You didn't even want to imagine how stressed they must've been. Did they know you were there? Or did they think you had abandoned them?

The tall man pulled an old wooden chair next to the bed and sat down, being so close to you now that it made you worry. What was he going to do?

"Long ago, Marc and I used to be pals, if you will. He was a great mercenary. Unstoppable, quick, someone that a man like me could respect. Then something changed and he turned on us. Marc became soft, that rat," He spat angrily, slamming his large fist against the wall so hard you flinched, half expecting him to hit you instead. Your heart leapt to your throat and your eyes squeezed shut which you instantly regretted.

"Are you scared, love?" He mocked you, leaning closer to you so his foul breath landed on your skin, causing your hairs to stand on end. Stay calm.

“Anyway, I wanted to know what changed him and all leads came back to you. Funny how the same thing that made him soft is the same thing that makes him hard,” he laughed at his own wordplay, his belittling words making you feel dirty. What he was talking about was none of his business and you wanted to let him hear your thoughts, but decided to bite your tongue for now.

"W-What's your name?" You ignored him, focusing on your one and only task right now. Keep him talking. Nothing else mattered.

"You can call me Raul," He introduced himself while caressing your cheek. That's when you noticed it, his left hand only had three fingers. Raul caught you staring.

"Wanna know who did this to me?" Raul grabbed your jaw forcefully and made you face him. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep and dark coldness that sent shivers down your spine. His touch was rough and it stung but you assumed it was better than whatever else it was he was capable of doing. Without knowing what else to do, you simply nodded, encouraging him to go on. By now, you felt your body betraying you as your limbs quivered underneath his touch. That's how easy it was for him to terrify you. At that moment, you wished you had abilities such as Khonshu had granted your lovers. You wished you could've broken free from these chains and returned home safely but alas, you couldn't. There you were, forced to look at this man and hear his stories, not knowing what was true and what wasn't.

"Marc did this," Raul revealed eventually, something about it making your gut twist in horror. Picturing Marc severing a man's fingers off was sickening. If it were true, you had to believe there was a good reason behind it. Khonshu only made him punish people who had already done evil things. This man was no exception.

"Tell me, sweetheart," Raul tilted his head slightly, "have you heard of the phrase 'an eye for an eye'?"

Who hadn't? You thought but kept that to yourself as you didn't wish to set him off. Somehow, it seemed like nothing was truly needed to set this man off as your silence alone was enough to push him into action.

Everything that happened next was surreal. You could only watch as Raul reached for something in his pocket, something that turned out to be a knife. It reflected the yellow ceiling light and you noticed just how sharp it was. There was a carved symbol on the blade which you didn't recognize but it didn't seem to matter when he grabbed your left hand that was still chained to the headboard.

"No! No, please! Please don't do this!" You screamed in shock when he pressed the sharp knife against the base of your index and middle fingers, not enough to cut your fingers off but your skin broke under the edge. "Please don't!" Panicked tears rolled down your face as you tried to wiggle free. It was of no use though and you both knew it.

"If you stop moving it'll be over sooner!" Raul yelled at you and then had the audacity to smile. The curve of his lips was sadistic, something straight out of nightmares. He enjoyed this.

Just as blood began to trickle down your palm, the hot liquid reminding you of how doomed you were, a phone rang in his pocket. That was your phone.

"Fucking hell!" Raul sighed, annoyed by the interruption but you were forever grateful because he stepped away and put the knife on the table next to the gun. So far, your digits were still intact but the ghastliness of what had almost happened shook you to the core, making you feel nauseous. The cut at the base of your fingers stung. Even without seeing it, you knew it'd leave a scar. A scar that would be much better than losing your fingers. As you were still recovering from the shock of what Raul nearly succeeded with, you didn't even realize what was happening.

Raul had answered the video call because Marc's face had shown up on the screen. He had anticipated a call again. As he picked up, he instantly turned the camera to you, letting Marc see what was happening.

"You have perfect timing, Spector. I was just about to cut her pretty little fingers off," Raul revealed casually as if he had no care in the world. He wanted to piss off Marc and it didn't seem like it frightened him at all. Either he was a fool or extremely powerful.

"Don't you fucking dare touch her!" Marc growled with wrath in his voice. You realized you had never heard him so angry ever before. His voice was alien, but at the same time, you found comfort in it. Was he going to find you? If so, would he be there in time? Would you see him again?

"If I do, what are you gonna do about it? There's not much you can do to stop me," Raul laughed again, grabbing the bloody knife and waving it around as he spoke. "I'm here, she's here and you're god-knows-where! Even if you do find us, you'll be too late! I will make you watch as I kill her, that I promise you!"

This couldn't be happening. This had to be a nightmare. If you had been able to, you would've pinched yourself. You felt so helpless as tears streamed down your face and you struggled against the cold chains that were wrapped so tightly around you that the skin beneath the metal was bruising at an alarming rate. Staying calm after hearing his morbid threats seemed like an impossible task.

If he was truly going to kill you, this could've been your last chance to speak to any of them. As much as the realization terrified you, you had to find the courage to speak again.

"I love you, baby, I'm so sorry," You sniffled, trying to see the screen but Raul didn't grant you the satisfaction of seeing Marc. "I'm sorry!" The apology poured from your lips quietly as the guilt was eating you alive. The violent sobs caused your lungs to feel like they were on fire and burning you up from within. Had you been more careful, this would've never happened. You were sure of it. If this twisted man took your life tonight, the happy future you had dreamt of would be ripped away from not only you but from them as well. It wasn't fair in any way.

"Don't interrupt me!" Raul shrieked all of a sudden, angered by your attitude. As he leapt toward you, phone in hand, Marc yelled something that got lost as you let out a startled scream. The next thing you knew, Raul hovered above you with the knife dangerously close to your neck. "Shut up! I don't want to hear this lovey-dovey shit, okay? Just be quiet!"

Beep beep beep

The call ended. Whether Raul accidentally ended it or Marc, it didn't matter. The line was lost and you feared that just like that, you would never hear from him ever again. Not another 'I love you' from Steven that he would tell you first thing in the morning. No more endearments from Jake in Spanish that always made your heart flutter with joy. No more vulnerable love confessions from Marc he would whisper to you when no one else was around.

For once, Khonshu was being useful. It was actually the Egyptian god who helped locate you. There wasn't anything that could happen at night that went by his sight. When even Jake was going bollocks over worry he felt for you, the god couldn't just let them run in circles and desperately try to find you. Raul Bushman was smart, unfortunately, and he made it near impossible to find him. Tracing the calls hadn’t worked and studying the background of the video revealed nothing.

Raul Bushman was well prepared, but Raul didn't have Khonshu. When the bird-headed god told Jake how to find you, he wasted no time getting a move on. After the video call where Raul revealed what he was about to do to you, it was urgent they got these as quickly as possible.

Khonshu wasn't too fond of you - or so he made it appear - but he was even less fond of Raul Bushman. There was no way he would let a worm like that kill you and also make his avatar distraught. The god knew that the loss of you would be detrimental. It would destroy his Moon Knight for good.

The Moon Knight suit came in handy as Marc soared across the starry sky, past the tall buildings in the city with one destination in mind. It wasn't the time to think about anything else than his next few moves. One wrong thought and his demeanour would falter. Your life was on the line here and he wasn't going to mess up now. And to think Raul Bushman had come back to haunt him and he didn't even bother to hide further away than the other side of London. The man was confident he could overpower Marc but that was a grave mistake. Marc would stop at nothing to make sure nothing like this would ever happen again. Had he been wiser, he would've killed Raul all those years ago during their run together in Cairo.

The location turned out to be a townhouse in the fancier parts of London, a mighty building that had stood there for hundreds of years. To people looking from the outside, it was beautiful and nothing about it really screamed that it was used by criminals. Marc's gut twisted painfully when he remembered you were in there, most likely scared for your very life. The way you had apologized to him over the phone as if any of this was your fault had killed a part of him inside. If anything, Marc felt as if this was his fault. You had done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing at all.

Getting into the place wasn't hard at all. Instead, the trickier part was to be quiet. Marc wasn't going to risk your life by being loud and giving Raul a chance to finish things off before it was too late. The lights were all turned off, which led Marc to believe no one else was there but you and Raul. The people who owned the place rarely used it as it turned out the house was used for criminal gatherings every once in a while. No one lived there. As a hideout, it would've been wonderful if it was only used for hiding from regular people. Hiding from gods and their avatars on the other hand was much trickier.

By now, blood was boiling in Marc's veins. He felt like an enraged animal that was hunting for prey, following its bloody trail with a deep hunger. Nothing could possibly get in his way now. He squeezed the golden crescent moon darts tighter in a desperate attempt to remain calm, steering away the dark thundering clouds in his head that carried with them his deepest fears. With somewhat of a clear mind, silent for once as none of the alters dared to make a peep, Marc navigated down the stairs and toward where he believed you were. His pounding heart was the only sound he could hear, for now, the muscle convulsing dangerously and so hard it wouldn't have been too much of a surprise if Raul could hear it.

"Nooo!" You let out a deep cry, riddled with pain caused by the weapon that had just made contact with your temple. Between all the threats Raul directed at you and your own fears, you felt lost. You didn't know what you were begging of or asking him not to do. There wasn't time for you to gather your thoughts as this scary man was losing his patience with you and with Marc who still hadn't shown up. Despite his claims of not using you as bait to lure him here, you didn't believe him. Raul was looking for revenge and he was willing to kill two birds with one stone.

Knowing you were used as bait to lure your lover into doom only strengthened the guilt. Somehow that hurt more than the physical pain he had brought upon you. No amount of blood or bruises could amount to the realization of how sick and twisted this was and what part you played in it all.

The most recent blow he had delivered to you had been worse than the others, causing your vision to blur and you to feel ill. Your stomach was bubbling in a nauseating way and you weren't sure if you would be able to keep your lunch down for much longer. The throbbing headache was only getting worse and you noticed that you couldn't focus your vision on anything anymore. Was your body giving up this easily or was it trying to defend you from what was to come by numbing everything out quicker? At this point, thinking felt too difficult of a task. Raul was pacing around the room in his rage, probably filming you still but you didn't make any sense of it anymore.

Blood coated your tongue and that was what you focused on as you rested against the thin pillow, wishing you were at home instead. At home, in your bed, next to the man you loved. Instead of tasting the iron in your mouth, you wished you had a cup of hot chocolate that Jake was surprisingly good at making. He usually added a pinch of chili to the sweet drink and it tasted divine. You wished you were in a warm bath with Marc, getting your back rubbed by his loving touch after a long day. You wanted to listen to Steven's voice as he read you to sleep. Who was the god he was reading to you about last night? Taweret? That must've been it. The goddess of fertility and childbirth. Thinking of that in such a dark moment was oddly comforting, bringing you the tiniest amount of peace in the midst of fear you had never felt before, fear that made your bones shake and your heart heavy with sorrow.

Little did you know your last act of consciousness had alerted Marc of your whereabouts. Just as you slipped into unconsciousness, your exhausted body unable to take any more of the pain, you caught a glimpse of a pair of white, glowing eyes. He had found you.

Raul hadn't heard Marc arriving and none of the alarms in the building had alerted him. However, when the man wrapped in mummy bindings and with bright, glowing eyes attacked Raul, he could only feel excitement. This was his chance to defeat Marc once and for all, make him suffer like how Marc had made him suffer. An eye for an eye. Raul took that very seriously.

Marc grabbed Raul by his torso and launched him against the wall so hard it sent the man right into the next room. Dust from within the walls exploded into the air, making it hard to see into the other room for a moment but that didn't stop Marc who followed Raul without any hesitation.

"Took you long enough!" Raul got up from the floor just in time, spitting blood on the floor as he braced himself for Marc's next move.

Marc clenched his jaw together and threw both darts at his former acquaintance, not surprised when all they did was scratch the surface. Marc grabbed more darts from his chest, glad he wasn't going to run out of them anytime soon as they magically reappeared thanks to Khonshu's powers.

As Marc leapt at Raul again, the taller man grabbed him and rolled both of them around. When Marc fell to the ground with Raul, he rolled over and lunged the sharp moon dart right into his chest, ripping a string of curses from his enemy's mouth.

"You're gonna regret ever laying a finger on her," Marc growled eerily, twisting the sharp dart that had sunk into Raul's flesh, feeling how the man's blood soaked his white glove. Having mercy was the last thing on Marc's mind now. He was going to make Raul pay for his mistake.

Meanwhile, you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to stay in the dark when you heard crashing and screaming nearby. As you opened your eyes and blinked a few times, you realized what was going on and it sent a rush of adrenaline through you. Marc was there for you but you were still chained to the bed. Trying to free yourself hadn't worked earlier but now that your hands were covered in sweat and blood, you decided to give it another try. Desperately, you tried to wiggle and pull your hands free, biting your tongue when the action hurt. The chains were pressing against your thumbs painfully but you knew you would be able to pull yourself free if you just tugged a little harder.

"Fuck..." You cursed under your breath and then yanked your hands toward your chest. To your surprise, your hands slipped out of the chains. The adrenaline that coursed throughout your body concealed just how much it had hurt. With all the strength you had left and with worry for your loved one who was fighting this monster all alone, you limped to the dresser where the gun was. Bloody fingers wrapped around the weapon and you were surprised by how heavy it felt in your shaking hands. There was a hole in the wall and as you narrowed your eyes looking through it, you saw... Steven? Yes. Steven was definitely the one in the suit, giving Raul a piece of his mind with the help of his truncheons.

"You messed up big time, mate," Steven's choice of words didn't match the hatred in the tone of his voice. He didn't sound much like himself as he was blinded by rage, acting the opposite of the sweet and loving man you knew. As Mr Knight, he used all his strength to deliver a blow against Raul's gut, not finding an ounce of pity as the grown man cried out in pain. The sight was surreal but you couldn't look away. Whether this was a dream or not, you were glad to see it. Perhaps it was wrong, you just didn't care. Your moral compass had been shattered by the hands of the man who had hurt you the same way just moments before.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself now looking at Jake who didn't let Raul fall on the floor. Instead, he held him by his crimson covered shirt and pressed his fingers into the deep wound Marc had made with his dart earlier, feeling how the blood oozed out of it. "That is for just thinking about her!" He pushed Raul against a bookshelf, the impact knocking the books all over the floor and the shelves snapping in half.

"And this is for hurting her."

When Jake proceeded to attack him again, you had to look away. Part of it was because you felt lightheaded and standing on your own proved to be much more difficult than it should've been. The other part was that Jake's violent ways were not for the faint-hearted to see. As you stumbled on the floor, it alarmed both of the men. For a split second, Jake was distracted as he hadn't noticed you getting up and Raul used that to his advantage.

As Raul tried to bite Jake with his sharp, metal teeth, something within you snapped. You pointed his own gun at him and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the leg before you even knew what you were doing. The loud bang made your ears ring and you dropped the gun, stunned when you watched Raul freeze on the spot. The bullet had pierced him and stopped him from going absolutely feral, yet it didn't seem to put an end to his wrath. Raul turned on his heel and tried to run toward you despite his injuries, seeing red now that you had shot him. Before he could take one too many steps, Marc stopped him.

All you could do was watch from the cold floor as Marc did his job. You had just shot someone. The gun was laying on the floor and you stared at it in disbelief, replaying the moment in your head like a broken record. All your pain was gone and you felt numb. When you looked at your hands, your own blood no longer felt like it belonged to you. Sure, you had shot a horrible man who was about to possibly hurt Jake but it still felt repulsive. A sickening feeling poured all over like thick goo you that you couldn’t shake off. It was useless trying to focus on the fight that was taking place right in front of your nose. The sounds of furniture breaking and bones cracking were completely shut out of your head.

Everything that had happened in just one night was too much for you to handle. There was only so much you could process at once. You had never hurt anyone before. Not like that. This was never supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

When suddenly Marc was kneeling on the floor in front of you, you finally snapped out of it. The passage of time confused you as you didn't know if ten seconds had passed or ten minutes. Marc looked at you with nothing but concern all over his face, every trace of anger far gone. Had he been talking to you?

"Oh baby thank god you're alive," Marc wanted to hold you but he was terrified of hurting you. He viewed you like an ancient artefact that could turn to dust with one touch. Seeing the evidence of Raul's abuse against you was tearing his heart apart in his chest and he felt each and every tear on a molecular level. You looked so out of it as if your mind was far away although your eyes gazed right into his. The innocent gleam had been chased away from your soul. Marc noticed it immediately and that was crushing. His sweet angel was hurt and he could only blame himself for it.

"Is he...?" Dead was the word you were looking for but couldn't say out loud. Would you be responsible for a man's death? Had the bullet torn apart important veins and caused him to bleed out?

"No," Marc shook his head. Not yet. Raul wasn't far away from it though but Marc was more worried about you than the man who was surely taking his last breaths anyway. The moment he had a chance to see how you were doing, he had taken it. What Marc hadn't expected was how bad everything was. Had it been wishful thinking to imagine he would've made it in time before Raul had hurt you? How foolish had it been of him to imagine Raul fucking Bushman would wait to hurt someone? Marc knew better than anyone what that man was capable of.

"Can you walk?" Marc inquired, not sure if he really wanted to hear your answer though. He wanted to make sure you weren't there to see what he was about to do in a hopeless attempt to grasp onto the remaining purity of your heart and soul. Besides he knew seeing death changed a person in more ways than you'd think. The last thing he wanted was for you to have to witness that.

As you remained quiet, now staring at your trembling hands, Marc knew he wasn't going to get through to you. As gently as he could, he wrapped his strong arms around you and helped you to your feet. Marc saw the gun on the floor next to a phone that was still recording everything, only now facing the floor so it only recorded sound. It was your phone and it was gnarly to think Raul had recorded everything with the ambition in mind to send it all to Marc. Ever so carefully, Marc guided you out of the room that would surely be in many nightmares to come and into the dark hallway. No one else had joined the party as far as he and Khonshu were aware so Marc felt it was safe enough to leave you alone for just a few more seconds.

There was a leather armchair in the hallway and Marc made you sit down on it, which you didn't mind. Everything happened in a blur and it was difficult to focus on anything in that state. He began ripping his Moon Knight costume, the magic bindings reappearing seemingly out of nowhere as he used it to wrap the deepest wounds he could see on you. At that point, Marc had to fight hard against his own body to hold back his tears, trying to stay strong for just a little longer. It was really difficult though when he was wrapping your fingers together to stop the bleeding of a wound that resembled something he had inflicted upon someone else years ago. Marc thought he had seen enough shit for one lifetime but this? This was crushing him in every possible way.

Unbeknownst to you, Khonshu was looming over Marc's shoulder and keeping guard - not that the god would say that out loud. It wasn't that big of a deal for him to make sure his avatar didn't get ambushed, right?

"He is still breathing," Khonshu broke the heavy silence in the townhouse that allowed Marc's thoughts to spiral into a dark place. Khonshu wanted Raul to pay the ultimate price for his actions and waiting patiently for Marc to get a move on was boring. The sooner they got it over with, the better.

Marc nodded to himself and then tightened the material in hopes it would stop the bleeding. "I'll be right back, I promise," He assured you softly. Marc didn't need to say what he was about to do for you weren't stupid. All you could do was nod, feeling nothing at all as Marc stood up and retraced his steps back to the room in which Raul was bleeding out. Not even fear as you sat alone in the dark hallway as your own thoughts drowned out the world around you.

Raul had severely underestimated Marc Spector, not knowing to expect the full wrath of a man enhanced by the powers of an ancient god. Not only that, he had enraged Marc and the two alters who all fronted to show him their rage. In his final moment on the cold, dirty floor, he was staring down into the barrel of the gun and then the man holding it, unsure exactly who he was looking at. Perhaps in some way, all three of them were holding that gun, all three men wanting the same thing - to end this man's life. Raul would never know who truly pulled that trigger.

The very last thing he ever heard was the scolding words of a man who took vengeance very seriously, especially when it came to injustices against the woman he loved;

"You fucked up the moment you decided to go after her and I'm not letting you make that mistake ever again."

Getting home and the entire process of getting washed and your wounds patched up had passed you near completely as you zoned out. It wasn't until Steven was putting one of his t-shirts on you that you really seemed to grasp where you were. Sure, you remembered glimpses of Marc getting you out of that building. He had insisted on taking you to a hospital as he seemed to have lost all care for himself, not giving a damn if the staff would've called the police on him and found out why he was covered in blood. But you didn't want that to happen. You didn't want to see any more people. All you wanted was to go home and be sheltered away from the rest of the world.

Jake was the one who cleaned your wounds. Luckily, they weren't too bad, nothing that would hold you back forever. What had hurt you the most was the mental toll of what had happened. Healing within would take so much longer and Jake was going to stay by your side the entire time. After he had cleaned your wounds, stitched you up and given you a bath, he wasn't sure what to do. It was late, the clock nearing the morning by now but neither of you felt like going to bed.

Steven was fronting at that point and he was worried sick about you because you barely spoke. Not that he was surprised or that he wanted to push the words out of your mouth, he was simply concerned. No one could blame him. The love of his life, the human version of an actual ray of sunshine who was never supposed to get hurt, was scarred so deeply. If he could turn back time, he would've done it in a heartbeat.

"Darling," Steven slipped the shirt over your head gently, making sure to stretch the fabric in order to avoid touching the deep, purple bruises and stitched up wounds. You barely lifted your arms to make an effort to ease the job. You didn't mean to be difficult or distant, it just happened. Every time you tried to focus on the present, a wave of utter pain threatened to crash against you and you didn't want that to happen, so you pushed it away. Prolonging it was most likely only making it worse but you were so scared of embracing what had happened. When you blinked, you could see the man's dead body on the floor, a picture your brain cruelly created to taunt you. Marc hadn’t let you see Raul’s corpse, but your mind was creative enough to give you a front row seat one way or another.

Although Raul had hurt you and stated he wanted to kill Marc, knowing he was dead made you feel strange. That man had been a monster yet you felt shaken by his death somehow. How much part did you have in it? Would they find his body and throw you in a cell? Would his friends come after you? After Marc?

"Hey," Steven could feel his heart continuing to break as he watched that empty look on your face, "talk to me, love. Please. Just please don't bottle this up, I'm here for you." Steven knew that if you kept all of these thoughts to yourself, that eventually it would break you furthermore. It wasn't healthy and yet at the same time, he was aware of the fact talking about it was possibly just as difficult but in the end, it would mean so much.

"He wanted to kill you," You finally managed to say something more than just a word or two. Raul had kidnapped you because he wanted to kill the man you loved that badly. Trying to accept that was hard as you couldn't picture hating Marc so much. Marc was wonderful. One had to be a true monster to find him so despicable.

"But he didn't," Steven reminded you, taking a hold of your right hand and he gave you a gentle squeeze as he intertwined your fingers. You could only watch as Steven brought your knuckles to his lips and he placed a soft kiss on your skin. The tender touch went straight to your heart, pulling at the strings that made you tear up. God you loved him so much and it pained you deeply to shut off like this. If only you knew how, you'd let him back in instantly.

Steven noticed the glistening tears in your weary eyes. "Oh love," it was difficult to keep his own tears at bay once he saw you like that. When you leaned against his chest and wrapped your arms around him, it took the man by surprise. Steven hadn't anticipated that but he was happy to hold you too, knowing you were finally letting your emotions out. Determined as hell, Steven was going to be your rock. In his mind, it was the least he could do.

When you felt his hand between your shoulderblades, caressing you gently and lovingly, you felt yourself relaxing against him. Tears kept spilling from your eyes and you were coughing in-between sobs, but letting it out felt kind of good as well. The tangled web within your soul was unraveling with every tear and every caring touch patched a crack in your heart. You were safe and nothing could happen to you now. They made sure of it.

As you thought of what they had done for you, an enormous amount of gratitude surged from within. You held Steven even tighter, wanting to thank him but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth, lips quivering as you wept. They hadn't only come to rescue you but they made sure Raul would never hurt you or anyone for that matter again. Having only shot him, you felt horrible. No matter how well Jake washed your hands, you couldn't shake off the sticky feeling that coated your skin. It seemed impossible to imagine how taking a life must've been like yet they had done it. For you.

Steven's cologne filled your lungs as you pressed your tear-stained face against his chest, probably leaving marks on the fabric but neither of you really cared. The familiar, clean scent was oddly calming and eventually, the rough and painful sobs calmed down. Your fingers clung onto his back tightly because you longed to stay close to him. His tender embrace and familiar scent was grounding you and every once in a while, Steven would whisper reassuring things to you. Being loved by him made you feel so lucky.

"Thank you," You managed after a while, barely finding your voice after screaming and crying so much in just one day. Your throat felt as dry as the desert but it seemed to be the least of your worries.

"You don't need to thank me, love. Not at all," Steven was genuinely surprised to hear that. He was shocked that you weren't running away from them actually. Why you decided to stay when their presence attracted such horrible people was beyond him but there you were. But you were together, even if you were to leave Steven was terrified more mysterious boogeymen from the past would come after you. Just thinking about it gave him an even worse headache than he already had. All he knew was that he couldn't make you thank them because truth be told, Marc wasn't the only one who felt guilty.

"You saved me," You looked up to him with red and puffy eyes, feeling sick of crying at that point. If only making it stop was that easy.

"You shouldn't have needed saving in the first place," Steven acknowledged, the words feeling like a punch in the gut. He hated that it was true.

They were all blaming themselves and you hated it. Sure, you had blamed yourself for this too but at the end of the day, Raul Bushman had been the one to initiate everything for his own selfish desires. There was one person to blame for this and that person was dead.

Steven felt a tear rolling down his cheek which he didn't even bother to wipe away as he looked at you with such deep love and compassion on his face it was almost overwhelming. What he seemed to tell you with his eyes did more justice than what a thousand words ever could've.

"Steven, my love,," You took a deep shaky breath and then lifted your arm to wipe his stray tear away, noticing how Steven leaned ever so softly against your touch. Hours earlier he had feared he would never be able to do that again. "Don't blame yourself. None of you should."

Steven didn't say it, but he instantly thought of Marc who had completely shut himself off. Not even Jake could reach him. Marc was loathing in guilt and no one knew when he would front again as he had made it very clear he felt as if he was a curse upon you. A wretched old affliction that was destined to continue causing you harm no matter what he attempted to do to stop it.

Steven blinked as the tears just kept coming. He felt awful because he thought he was supposed to be the strong one to be there for you but as time passed, he too began to process everything that happened. Had they been late, you would've been long gone by now. Tonight had been too dangerous, the worst possible scenario had been too close to coming true.

As you felt Steven shaking underneath your touch, you swore you wanted to bring Raul back from the dead just to kill him again. Seeing the kind man that you loved so much being in so much pain over worry he felt for you was like walking on burning shards of glass. You were just both two people who had been terrified of losing one another and you both carried guilt that you absolutely shouldn't have.

You cupped Steven's face, pulling him toward you as he willingly let you do so just to press a kiss on the bridge of his nose. Then you guided him to the crook of your neck, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and allowing Steven to pull you closer by the waist. The two of you held onto each other as if you were scared of letting of. The only comfort in the world you could find was in each other's arms. Steven inhaled your scent, convinced he could find paradise in the soapy fragrance. It was safe because it was you. You were alright.

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you leaned against Steven, not sure if you were about to yawn or sob as your lips parted. A yawn ripped from you and you somehow relaxed even more, unaware of how tense you had actually been. If Steven had let you, you would've fallen asleep just like that, in his arms where you felt separated you from everything else, the rotten outside world. The bubble he created for you was soothing, a place where one could stay forever and feel okay.

The last thing you remembered before passing out from pure exhaustion was Steven ever so carefully guiding you toward the pillows and tucking you in. Whether he kissed your forehead or you just dreamt it, you didn't know but it didn't really matter. After that, everything was filmy. Pitch black unconsciousness swallowed you whole and for a moment, the misery that had soaked into your every cell was far away.

Jake couldn't sleep. Steven had dosed off into broken sleep but it was Jake who woke up and stayed awake afterwards. It wasn't a difficult task for him to keep his eyes open as the sun began to rise outside. He had made sure the front door was locked and that no shady people were around the apartment complex. Jake had even gone out of his way to make sure their tracks were covered. All seemed well, at least on paper. No one could prove what they had done and no one was coming for you. All seemed well yet you were far from well as far as Jake was concerned.

He sat down on the bed eventually and tried to relax, making sure he didn't disturb your much needed rest. Jake knew the danger had been dealt with but part of him couldn't relax. Something cruel within told him people were out there, waiting for the first chance they'd get to harm you. So there he was, guarding you and at the very least giving you a chance to rest. As Jake's dark brown eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of your chest, he felt how deep, sharp claws sunk into his heart. Anger bubbled within him but to his surprise, that wasn't strong enough to push away the sorrow he harboured. Someone had hurt you and Jake couldn't comprehend it.

As you looked at your sleeping figure, studying the way your lashes touched your cheeks and how your lips parted a little bit when your cheek squished against the soft pillow, he struggled to comprehend how anyone was capable of harming you. Dark eyes roamed down your body, scarring every little bruise and cut on your exposed skin. Eventually, Jake looked at your fingers that clutched onto the blanket. He remembered when Marc had taken Raul's fingers as a wicked warning to keep his hands off of people. It had been a mistake to simply warn a man like that. They should've gotten rid of him then and there.

Raul hadn't just hurt you. All those years ago, while on a mission in Cairo they had come across surprise witnesses. People who weren't supposed to be there. People that the higher ups who paid them wanted to get rid of. Marc hadn't had it in him to kill a child but Raul almost did that. Almost, as Marc had stopped him just in time. That's why Marc had done what he did, hoping it would keep Raul from ever even thinking about hurting kids. Surely there had to be a line drawn somewhere, right? Not for Raul. Raul didn't care about who he had to get rid of in order to succeed with his ambitions. At least, he would never get another chance to do anything ever again.

When you yelped, breaking the silence that had lingered in the flat, Jake nearly jumped to his feet. He had been deep in thought that he hadn't heard you waking up so afraid. For a moment, you felt panicked and you had to pull your hands to your chest to make sure you weren't chained to a bedframe. Being able to move freely was so relieving but it didn't last long when you noticed the dull ache in your every bone and muscle.

Jake took a hold of your hand, wanting to comfort you in any way he could as you woke up to a new day. "You're safe, mi vida. I've got you."

Hearing Jake's voice made you feel so much lighter instantly. Although you had been able to sleep for a few hours, you somehow felt more tired now than you did before falling asleep. But it didn't matter. You enjoyed the fact that you were safe, just as Jake promised. Being home and completely shielded from any danger was a wonderful feeling and you focused on that instead of the sense of impending doom that was trying to shake you off balance. Nothing bad would happen now.

"Have you slept at all?" You mumbled tiredly as you sat up, trying to rub the weariness from your eyes. It felt like your body was on fire, not in a good way. Last night, the adrenaline had managed to dull most of the pain but now that you knew you were safe and had been able to relax, the discomfort seemed to have intensified.

"A little," Jake shrugged as he stood up. He could tell by the way you were moving that you were hurting so he decided to grab painkillers and a glass of water. As he returned from the kitchen with them, he gave you the pill and made sure you drank enough water. Jake knew how to be caring and attentive too, he just wasn't too verbal about it. Words didn't come easily to him, or when they did the timing wasn't the best either. Actions spoke louder than words anyway, he thought.

That day you didn't manage to get much done, not the next few days either for that matter. As the shock from the horrendous night still rattled you all, you could only stay inside. As the third day came around the corner, you were still mostly in bed or on the couch, unable to pull your head out of the dreadful place it found itself in. Jake and Steven had both fronted many times but it was mostly Steven who kept you company and tried to cheer you up. Marc hadn't shown up not even once after he had brought you back home. He hadn't come back as he promised. Not even when you were asleep.

Steven had gotten out of bed for the day, leaving you to slumber in hopes you were able to relax at least in your rest. You fell asleep again several times, only sleeping for a few minutes at a time when sudden fear woke you up again. It always seemed to come out of the blue and it passed just as quickly. The more it kept happening, the worse it felt. Around the time the sun was setting again and you still hadn't gotten out of bed, your anxiety was threatening to get the best of you.

Steven was in the kitchen, making something for you to eat since you hadn't eaten much at all yet. He wanted to take care of you and covering the basics such as making sure you ate was the least he felt he could do. As he stirred the pasta sauce, Steven had to really keep fight to keep his negative thoughts away. He hadn't slept well, obviously, and it seemed to take a toll on him now. He had almost lost you. No matter how many times he reminded himself that you were alright, he felt rotten to the core. What had he done if Raul had actually succeeded in his plan? Steven couldn't even imagine the scenario. That was too sinister.

The next time your anxiety awoke you, it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing at your throat. You sat up in bed and could physically feel your stomach turning upside down in distress. You bent over and dug your nails into your thighs, trying to drown your whimpers by biting your lips together. Only one thing repeated itself in your mind like a chant, you shot someone. You almost died and you shot someone. You did that.

As a sick feeling within you only grew worse, you forced yourself out of bed and to the bathroom. Unsure whether you'd get sick or not, you decided to sit down on the cold tile floor near the toilet just in case. That's when the tears got to you again and it was frustrating, making you entangle your fingers in your hair and scratch at your scalp. Why couldn't you stay calm? Why couldn't you accept that it was over? What happened had happened and now everything was fine. Why was it so damn hard to stay calm?

Marc. You missed Marc. He had shut off completely and it was devastating. Was he angry at you? Could it be? Raul had done this to anger Marc specifically. Did Marc blame you in some way? As wrong as it seemed, you weren't sure if anything could surprise you anymore. The longer he stayed hidden, the longer you were left to make your own conclusions.

"Love? Are you in here? I've made dinner," Steven's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Hearing him was like music to your ears. He was like a warm blanket that chased away the coldness that threatened to turn you to ice. Your heart swelled in your chest with love for him because you were sure you'd be a wreck without the sweet man.

"Yeah," After taking a few deep breaths, you felt somewhat better and got up from the floor. As long as you tried getting out of your head, you were sure you'd feel better. So you walked out of the bathroom and let Steven serve you a plate of pasta although you were certain you could've helped yourself too. Steven was going out of his way to be thoughtful and as nice as it was, it made you fear he was doing so out of guilt. How long would this last? How long would you all be broken because of one man?

The two of you sat on the couch as you ate, mindlessly watching the TV that filled in the silent gaps. Usually, you and Steven would be talking nonstop and probably pissing off the neighbours too. Now conversation was hard. Just existing felt like a chore but at least every day that passed made it a little bit less awful.

"Steven?" You were nervous about what you wanted to say so you avoided facing him, instead focusing on the pasta that swirled around your fork.

"Yes?"

By now, you could feel the familiar heavy thud of your heart. "Have you heard from Marc?"

Steven wasn't a fool. He knew you noticed Marc's absence as well as he and Jake did too, if not even better. Until now, neither of you had mentioned it though. Steven didn't want to upset you any more than people already had. For a split second, he thought of brushing it off with a somewhat cheerful statement, but discarded that quickly. You didn't deserve that. You were hurt, not stupid. Treating you like a child and walking on eggshells around you couldn't possibly do any more good than it would do harm.

With a sigh, Steven put his plate down on the coffeetable right next to a book he hadn't touched in days now.

"No, not really," Steven admitted and dared to glance your way. "I'm sorry."

“‘s not your fault.”

“Well I’m still sorry, love.”

"Is he mad?" You mimicked Steven by placing your plate on the coffeetable, too agitated to focus on eating the rest of your food. The queasy feeling from earlier was creeping right back to you at an alarming rate. To say you were discouraged was an understatement, going through a cycle of sickness and dread ten times an hour.

Steven couldn't believe you honestly thought so. "Mad?" He had to be sure he heard right. When he saw the fearful look on your face, he knew he had. "No, not at all. He's just... well, if he's mad at anyone it's at himself."

"He can't blame himself for what happened!" You hoped that somehow, someway, Marc could hear you. "Gosh he's so stubborn sometimes," You didn't mean it in a malicious way, not at all. You loved Marc and you wished you could just speak to him and convince him he wasn't blameworthy of anything.

"Yeah," Steven pulled his lips into a thin line, side-glancing at the reflection in Gus' tank. Marc was there but he certainly wasn't saying anything. The man seemed out of it, his usual demeanour completely shattered. Jake was trying to convince Marc to just talk to you. Steven wished you could hear and see what he was seeing sometimes.

In an attempt to ease your mind, Steven moved closer to you on the couch and invited you into a hug. The people on the television were overly cheerful and giddy considering the gloomy atmosphere in the flat as bright colours flashed from the screen, painting the otherwise dark room in pinks and yellows. You leaned against Steven's welcoming frame and tried to stay calm, knowing Marc was in there somewhere. He'd have to show up sooner or later, right? He couldn't hide from you forever.

For once, it was you who was awake and Steven was asleep. Or at least you had been cuddling with Steven just moments earlier. It was a dead giveaway he was finally sleeping when you heard a light snore every once in a while between the deep and calm breaths. For a moment, you focused on that alone, letting the simple sounds of his breaths and heartbeat chase away the rest of the world. To you, sleep didn't come easy that night and neither were you sleepy. Just tired in every other possible way.

"I wish you weren't so hard on yourself, Marc," The words left your mouth as hardly louder than a whisper, as you did not wish to wake him up. The longer Marc stayed hidden, either too ashamed to face you or too heartbroken to front, you felt so sorry for him. It was killing you to know Marc couldn't bring himself to talk to you.

Fingers carefully traced the blanket that weighed over his waist. You rested your palm against his chest, needing to feel the subtle movement that kept you grounded to this moment. Slowly you got closer so that you could pepper kisses along his shoulder, inhaling his scent and enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Even if you couldn't sleep, being close like this brought you some sort of relaxation and peace.

"I love you." Perhaps it was foolish, perhaps it was exactly what you needed, you closed your eyes and held onto him tighter, picturing a night from many weeks ago that reminded you of Marc. In your mind, it was that night and nothing horrible had happened yet. You were just close to each other, just two lovers enjoying the calm night after a lovely day together. There was no pain or guilt to be seen or felt.

The next morning, it was Marc that awoke to a new day. It was still early, way too early to actually get out of bed but he quickly knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Your body was pressed against his and Marc felt his heart sinking to the very bottom of his stomach. He hadn't been able to speak to you or even really look at you since that night. Now there he was, with an arm wrapped around you and panic stirring within him. Although part of him longed to hold you and make sure you were alright, it almost physically pained him to be there. He saw the healing bruises on your skin, now tinted in a yellowish hue. They were scattered all over you, each small and bigger bruise making Marc enraged. How had he let this happen?

Gently, Marc pulled the blanket aside more, revealing your thighs and seeing the damage all the way down your legs. He saw the cut Jake had stitched in the bathroom that night. Marc traced his fingers over your skin so softly he wasn't even sure he was really touching you. Memories of that night came back to him, visions he had been stuck thinking of for a week straight with seemingly no break. He remembered how scared he felt when he first saw you chained to that bed. Marc had been terrified when he learned it was Raul who held you captive. That night was easily the worst of his life that was full of horrible days and nights. That night he almost lost you, the light of his dark and gloomy life.

"Marc?" You hadn't been in deep sleep so when you sensed shifting next to you, it was easy to tell you weren't the only one awake. It had been wishful thinking to picture it was Marc but sometimes wishful thinking turned out to be correct.

You saw it in his eyes. There was a familiar look in those brown irises, a light that only shone for him. Then you saw it in the way he carried himself. There were small things that gave the truth away. It really was Marc. Instantly, you felt wide awake as you faced your lover, nearly afraid to blink in case he would disappear again. "Marc..."

"I didn't mean to wake you," Marc failed to meet your gaze, holding himself together by a thread that was just about to snap. He thought about how he had carried you, how your blood had stained his clothes and how he was convinced you would see him as the monster he thought he was after everything that happened. You were all he had and despite being right next to you, Marc felt as if he had lost you already. After everything that happened, he knew nothing would ever be the same and he blamed himself for it all.

As he moved away from you, throwing his legs off the edge of the bed so he was sitting with his back facing you, it was clear he wanted to be anywhere but there. The bed felt colder and despite being so close to Marc, it felt like there were worlds between you.

Quietly, you got out of bed, the white t-shirt being the only fabric that covered you from the night. Carefully, you sat down on the edge of the bed next to Marc, relief washing over you when he didn’t get up and leave. Instead, Marc sighed deeply and turned to face you, now with tears in his eyes. Tears. As if you all hadn’t gotten sick and tired of those by now. The fact you hadn’t drowned in them yet was a miracle.

“Marc,” You searched for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his for the first time in what felt like a small eternity. “I missed you.”

The words affected him more than you’d ever know. Marc could still not believe you weren’t angry at him. Knowing you wanted to be by his side after everything was simply mind boggling.

“I missed you too, baby,” Marc admitted, finally beginning to speak about what had happened. Perhaps it was the closeness that made him feel like it was time or the fact that keeping everything bottled up was slowly killing him, either way Marc was encouraged to go on. “Fuck, I...I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you’re still here. I thought I’d lose you.”

“Marc-”

“What happened was never supposed to happen. I should’ve made sure of that long ago!”

“Marc!” You couldn’t let him sit there and keep blaming himself. Eventually the load he was carrying would break him and that would break you too.

He looked at you wide eyed, resembling a lost puppy. Seeing Marc like this was so unusual, he looked at you for guidance and forgiveness although forgiveness was something he never needed to ask for. It wasn’t needed in the first place but even if it were, you knew in your heart you’d forgive him a million times.

“What happened was not your fault,” Each word you said was clear and loud so that he couldn’t possibly mishear you. “The only person to blame for it is now dead and gone. Raul chose to do this. Not you, not me. He is the only one who should feel guilty.”

“You could’ve died,” Marc still didn’t budge, holding your hand a little tighter as he stated that. There was a deep desire within him that made him long to feel you even closer just as a reminder that you were alive.

“But I didn’t. I’m here thanks to you,” There were two sides two every situation. Marc could only see what almost happened and you were there to remind him of what actually happened, something he didn’t seem to consider at all.

“I could walk into traffic and get run over by a car tomorrow. I could get targeted by a random robber in a sketchy alleyway. Bad things happen and we can’t predict that. No one knows how much time we have but I know that no matter what, Raul’s actions weren’t your fault,” You didn’t mean to sound cruel but your words carried truth in them. No one could blame themselves for the unseen actions of the future. No one.

Like magic, something finally seemed to click in Marc’s mind. His shoulders relaxed and you could feel the tension melting from his muscles. When he let go of your hand just so he could envelope you in a hug, you wanted to thank whatever deity or god that must’ve given you this miracle.

Soon you found yourself on Marc’s lap, breathing in the subtle hints of his cologne as you rested your face against his shoulder. Marc held you tightly, but he was aware of your injuries so the man was mindful, not aiming to hurt you. His rough hand - now ever so gentle - was caressing the back of your head as his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close. Then at last, Marc let his tears rain down his face. The lid of the bottle was opened and you had knocked it over, letting it all spill out.

“I love you so much,” You whispered to him, repeating the confession a few times between soft kisses against his warm skin. You comforted Marc to the best of your abilities, playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck and ever so often wiping away the tears that were running down his throat.

“I love you too,” Marc had to return those words, his heart set aflame from love and passion that he felt for you. It was a fire no one could ever put out.

Marc held onto you for dear life, wanting to feel your heartbeat against his, to feel your chest expanding with air. Your scent calmed him as he let his sorrow out. Although only a few days had passed since you two last spoke, to him it felt like months. Looking back at how scared he had felt made him feel sick. It worsened when he couldn’t shake away the image of you in that fucking room. That was something no amount of words could ever clean from his memory.

But there you were. Not in a creepy room at the mercy of one of the most dangerous people Marc knew of. No. You were in his arms, in your bed and no one else could possibly bother you right now.

To Marc, this was all that mattered.

You were safe.

A/N: Okay so I definitely didn’t intend for this to be this long but here we are. I hope you liked it! :)

#Moon Knight fanfiction #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #Jake Lockley x Reader #moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #angst #hurt/comfort #raul bushman

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