#didn't put this under 'read more' because people deserve to know the truth

[finelinefae]

birdy [Pilot!harry x teacher!y/n]

synopsis: it’s the 1950s. harry's had a hard life and y/n just wants the truth

word count: 12.3k

contains: fluff, angst, childhood trauma, nightmares, abusive father, neglectful parents, grovelling, smut (size kink, tiny praise kink, breeding kink, oral m receiving)

this is part 3 of the aviator read part 2 here

this could have gone one of two ways...

. . .

Y/N was convinced that returning to the airbase took only half as much time as the journey to reach the campsite. She hated hiking, even more so after this trip, but she had places to be so she charged down the trail all the way back to the airbase. The clouds overhead seemed to mirror her anger, morphing into shades of grey, empathising with her mood. 

“Y/N, Harry went back earlier this morning. We came back from the bonfire and he was hyperventilating and shit. Thought he was gonna pass out so me and Pat went to get him some water but when we got back he was gone.” Sonny had told her when she had asked why Harry was missing. 

Y/N’s mind instantly went to the night she had woken up to one of Harry’s nightmares. She wondered whether or not that had something to do with his sudden disappearance. However, it didn't seem to cool the anger she felt that seemingly continued to grow with every fueled step she took back towards Offutt. 

As she made it out of the clearing, she noticed a figure sitting under a tree in the distance. She paused, squinting her eyes and immediately recognising those broad shoulders and that head full of brunette curls. Now that she could finally see him, she wondered if it would be better to just let him sit and wallow in whatever guilt he may or may not be feeling but she considered confronting things like this as self-care and she wouldn’t allow herself to return home without knowing why she had woken up alone this morning. 

She ignored the droplets of rain that began to fall slowly from the sky. Instead, she trudged through the slightly muddy grass. Y/N caught his head turn as though he sensed her incoming. He shot up, standing tall and began to walk towards her. 

Harry couldn’t even react when he saw the anger radiating from her face. He knew what he had done and there was no good reason for it, “Y/N-”

When she was finally in front of him, Y/N took a deep breath to steady herself. “Don’t ever disrespect me like that again,” she said firmly, her voice carrying her emotions. Then, turning away, she began to walk away from him. 

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist but she tugged it, breaking free from his grip, “No,” She turned around to face him, “You walk away from me, I walk away from you.” It’s what she planned to do all along, make him realise how much it hurt to have someone turn their back on you.

Harry’s heart seemed to crack as her voice trembled, “Y/N,” 

“Why?” Her bottom lip wobbled but she held her breath, trying to be stronger than him, “Why would you do that? Y’know, I’ve put a lot of faith in you Harry, I trusted you. People labelled you so many things and I always backed you up but that was just…Mean. You are being mean.” 

“I know, I know,” Harry said, which only fuelled her anger even more. He had no idea what it felt like to wake up alone, especially after admitting something so honest. 

“You have no idea,” Her voice raised, “You have no idea what that felt like because you will always be the person who leaves.” 

Harry couldn’t seem to find the words. She was right and finally seeing him how he saw himself. There was nothing good about him and he had been told that his entire life by all the people he cared about. Everything he loved as a child was taken away from him with claw marks all over them. He had been forced to grow up, leave home and raise three kids. He knew one day that they too would be taken away from him- they’d find better people, a happier life -  and he would be left with nothing because it was all that he had known and all that he had deserved. 

Y/N couldn’t seem to fathom how he stood there in complete silence. The silence seemed to birth a new feeling inside her, another seed planted in her slow-burning heartbreak. 

Until His voice murmured something, barely audible to her ear, "It was you."

She stilled, “What?” 

His head lifted and she finally got to see him through the fog of anger. His cheeks were tear stained, his eyes red-rimmed and tired like he had barely slept. His hair looked as though he had run his fingers through them one too many times. “In my nightmare, it was you.” He confessed. 

Y/N was struggling to breathe, “What are you talking about?” She whispered, her eyes glassy.

“I haven’t experienced it that way in so long, I-I thought I was okay now.” Harry's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“What did they do to you?” Y/N took a step forward. 

“I thought I was at home. I-I was in my room in my own body and my pops was there sitting in his armchair. He wouldn’t stop laughing at me and then I looked down and saw y’ on the floor,” Harry inhaled sharply like he was picturing the moment as he was re-calling it, “I tried to wake y’ up but you wouldn’t reply, y’ wouldn’t wake up and he was just sat there laughing and laughing. I was calling for help but no one could hear me and t-then he started saying I did it.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her tears anymore as Harry began to cry. She wanted to reach out for him, to remove every bad thing that had ever happened to him and replace them with good. 

“He said it was me who hurt you,” He cried, “I tried to save you Y/N but I couldn’t and he was just laughing.” 

“Harry,” Y/N whispered, grabbing his hand and feeling him grip her fingers so tightly she thought it would cut off the circulation.

“I woke up outside,” He murmured, sniffling, “I was sitting out somewhere in the morning and Sonny and Patsy found me. I could hardly catch m’breath and they went off to get something that’d help but I was too ashamed. I couldn’t face them and I couldn’t face you either.” 

"Why?" Y/N couldn't help but ask, despite all the times she had promised him she would be there for him.

Harry's gaze fell to the ground as he struggled to find the words. “Because,” He huffed, trying to smile but he just looked broken, “What’s a girl like you doing with someone like me? God, I love you so much Y/N. I’ve never loved anybody in m’ whole life and the only thing I know about it is that y’ give the people y’ love what they are most deserving of and you deserve so much more than what I can give.” 

Y/N’s lips parted but he continued, “I have nothing. I am nobody. Outside of this place, I have nothing. I come from a family of nobodies and you…you are everything.” 

Y/N’s heart ached with every word he spoke and the vulnerability and pain on his face. She felt as though he was cutting himself open and he had nothing more he could hide away from her, “Harry, you are changing that.” She whispered, her voice filled with conviction.

He frowned, puzzled by her words, uncertain of their meaning. “The way you are with your brothers and Elise, what you’ve given them, it is the biggest example of love I have ever seen. This life you’ve shown them here comes from your love Harry.” She said, a smile breaking through her tears as his expression softened. She reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand, “I don’t want you to give me something better, I want you to give me you and the love I have seen you give to the people you care about. And I want to give you love too because I love you more than words can even comprehend and you are so deserving of it.” 

Harry’s eyes close softly as if he can’t quite believe the words he’s hearing and he’s trying to absorb it all. Y/N pulls his head down so their foreheads are pressed against each other, “Maybe you thought you had nothing but you always had love and if this is your nothing then I want all of it. That is what I want you to give to me.” She whispers. 

There's a pause, a moment of silent understanding between them, as Harry processes her words. His eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a depth of emotion that takes her breath away. She sees in his gaze a mixture of disbelief and gratitude as if her words have unlocked something within him that he never thought possible.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, Harry's hands find their way to her face, his touch gentle yet firm. It's as if he's trying to memorise every contour, every line, every curve as if he's afraid that this moment might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

"There is nothing in this world that means more to me than you," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Thank you," he adds, his words filled with sincerity and love.

Y/N smiles softly, her eyes reflecting warmth and understanding. "That's okay," she says gently.

The rain pours around them as they stand underneath the shelter of the tree. Harry doesn’t even ask for permission, too eager to, as he presses his lips to hers. Y/N squeaks in surprise but melts into him when she allows herself to feel all the things he can’t communicate, put into every motion of his lips.

Harry feels new like the burden of his childhood is eased from his shoulders as the light from her kiss injects itself into his body. He wonders how he could ever allow himself to walk away from this, “I’m so sorry Y/N.” He says against her lips, “I love you, I’m sorry.” 

Y/N sighs, “We’ll learn,” She says, “We’ll get better and we’ll both learn.” 

It’s more than just words of forgiveness, it’s a promise and the start of something new. 

When they finish kissing, they both look up at the sky and see how hard the rain is pouring, “I think I’m over this trip now.” Y/N sighs, “I don’t think I ever want to go camping again.”

“Oh c’mon it was fun,” Harry teases with a sniffle but then sees her deadpan expression, “Okay it could have been better but at least we’re together now.” 

Y/N takes her hand away from him and crosses her arms, “Who decided that?” 

Harry’s face drops, “I-I thought-.” 

She quirks a brow, “I haven’t forgiven you for leaving me yet. That was just cruel and you should know better!”

Harry looked at her apologetically “I know baby-“ He reached for her hand but she swiftly moved away, stepping out into the rain and walking back towards the trail. 

“I won’t be letting you off so easily.” Harry’s shoulders slumped as he stayed glued to the floor, watching her walk away from him. 

He tried not to smile as she stumbled over the uneven ground, her clothes getting wet from the rain. He cupped his mouth and yelled, “But y’ still love me right?” 

“Of course I do you idiot!” She yelled over her shoulder.

Harry smiled, “I love you too, bigger than the whole sky Y/N.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N yelled, “Prove it!”

Harry chuckled, running over to join her in the rain. 

. . .

To grovel actually meant to get down on your knees and beg for not only days but weeks in Y/N’s books which Harry had gradually come to realise. 

They returned from the airbase before everybody else and arrived at Y/N’s house to shower. Harry had tried to persuade Y/N to shower with him, using the classic excuse of ‘it’ll save water’ but she was too smart for that and he knew better. 

Soon, life resumed its usual rhythm after the camping trip, but there was a noticeable change in Y/N and Harry. Others noticed the absence of tension between them, seeing the love reflected in their gazes whenever they looked at each other. However, they couldn't understand why Y/N refused to acknowledge their relationship, or why Harry seemed so smitten and eager- all of a sudden walking around like he was a lovesick puppy in need of attention. 

Every day Harry would be doing something for Y/N, whether it was buying her flowers at the start of every week or walking her home during his work breaks. He’d rarely ever be seen with another woman, let alone make eye contact with them, all because he was desperate to make it up to the only woman he’d ever want for the rest of his life. 

“Y/N,” Francine, one of the nursery workers, called her name as she was washing up paint pots in the sink, “He’s here for you.”

Y/N tried to hide her smile, “Could you tell him to wait please Fran?” 

Soon Fran returned and in her arms was a giant bouquet, “He couldn’t stay very long,” She handed Y/N the roses, “But he told me to give you these.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her hands still dripping wet as she held the red roses in her arms. She placed them on the countertop and took out the card attached to the bouquet. ‘I love you bigger than the whole sky, your Harry.’ 

Y/N bit down on her lip as she folded the small piece of paper and slid it into the front pocket of her apron. “When’s that boy gonna put a ring on y’ finger?” Loretta, one of the older nursery workers asked. 

Y/N scoffed, “Only if he can get near my hand first, Loretta.” 

Although marriage would definitely not be happening anytime soon, the picture of it in her mind made her smile. 

In the evening, Y/N had been enjoying some much-needed girl time with Molly and Patsy. Y/N hadn’t seen Nancy since the night of the bonfire. She was rarely ever home to the point where the girls wondered why she even bothered renting her room out for much longer. 

They sat around the living room in pink robes, watching a movie and reading magazines. It had been a while since Y/N had had some downtime with her housemates. So much of her time had been either working or being trapped in the whirlwind that was her relationship with Harry. 

“Can I have some of that?” Patsy asked, unable to keep her eyes off the television as she held her hand out for the bottle of wine. 

Molly passed it over but her eyes narrowed on Patsy, “Is that Sonny’s sweatshirt you’re wearing under that?” 

Patsy finally looked away, her mouth opening and closing, “N-no?” She lied, terribly. 

“Did you sleep with him?” Molly questioned.

Patsy swallowed, “No…maybe…yes.” 

Patsy's feeble attempt at denial only made Y/N and Molly laugh harder. Y/N struggled to stifle her giggles, while Molly's laughter rang out loud and clear.

"And? How was it?” Molly urged, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Patsy’s face flushed bright red, “It was good.”

“That’s it?” Molly frowned.

“Fine,” Patsy’s shoulders slumped, “It was wonderful, Mol. The best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re lying,” 

“It’s true!” Patsy exclaimed, “There’s just something about ‘em, right Y/N? You slept with Harry already didn’t you?”

Y/N’s smile fell from her face, “Huh?”

Molly smirked, “Now you definitely cannot lie about that. Everyone knows it.”

Y/N's smile faltered, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean, everyone knows?"

Molly's smirk widened. "Come on, Y/N. It's written all over your face. You've got that look all the girls have, you know the one where they lie about being with someone when it’s clearly not the truth."

Y/N's cheeks flushed as realisation dawned on her. "Oh," she murmured, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"So, spill it," Molly urged, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Have you?"

“I don’t know…Maybe,” She could feel the corner of her lips tugging upwards and her hands quickly shot up to cover her face.

Her two housemates squealed, jumping up from the couch with excitement, “You have?” Molly grinned. 

“Yes!” Y/N laughed. 

“Tell us all about it!” Patsy fell to the floor and leaned in towards her. 

“O-Oh, I-” But as luck would have it, Y/N was interrupted by the doorbell ringing and then the door swinging open. 

“Patsy?” Sonny’s voice rang down the hallway as he invited himself in again. 

Molly rolled her eyes, annoyed, “What is it?”

Footsteps sounded against the hardwood floors as Sonny entered the living room. His eyes landed on the girls as they sat on the floor, “What are you doing?”

"What does it look like we're doing?" Molly retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

"Can I join in?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Patsy groaned, "Just tell us what you want, already."

“Oh,” Sonny shook his head as if reminding himself why he was here, “Elise is sick,”

Y/N stood up, “What? How sick?”

“George has had to bath her four times already and Harry can’t seem to get her to sleep. It’s manic in that house, y’ gotta help us out.” Sonny begged. 

"But it's girl's night," Molly said firmly, gesturing toward the girls in their gowns. "And we're not your nurses or your babysitters."

"Please?" Sonny's eyes pleaded, darting towards Y/N.

Y/N sighed, relenting. "Fine. Let me get dressed." She manoeuvred past the girls seated on the floor and headed upstairs to her room to change.

“What? Patsy, y’ can’t be serious?” Molly whined. 

“It’s Elise and Sonny’s sister.” Patsy shrugged as though it was reason enough. 

Molly huffed, knowing no matter what she said it wouldn’t be enough to persuade them to help a sick child. The girl’s night they had planned would just have to be put on hold,  “Alright,” She conceded. 

Sonny led the girls across the estate to the Styles’ household. Along the way, Y/N and Molly teased Patsy and Sonny when they noticed them holding hands inside the pocket of Sonny’s aviator coat. The closer they got to the house, the more they could hear Elise wailing from inside. 

He swung the door open, the girls following behind, “I’m back!” Sonny called as they entered the kitchen, “I bought reinforcements.”

Harry turned around when they all stepped into the room. He was shirtless, holding onto a crying Elise, her little face all scrunched up and red. His eyes immediately gravitated towards Y/N, “You’re here,” He sighed as if the sight of her had alleviated some of the stress he was feeling. 

Y/N walked straight up to him and took Elise out of his grip, “M here,” She sighed, “Oh sweet girl, it’s okay,” Y/N kissed the side of the two-year-olds head, swaying her side to side in her arms. 

“She’s been sick all afternoon, must have got it off some kid at the nursery.” Harry exclaimed, his eyes tired from taking care of his sister and being at work all day, “I’ve tried everything. Normally singing her to sleep helps but she won’t seem to settle and I’m all out of ideas.”

“Hey,” Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his warm skin, “It’s okay, we’re here to help you.”

He relaxed beneath her touch, the sentiment making him smile, “Y’ don’t have to,” Harry murmured. 

“Harry,” Y/N gave him a stern glare, “I want to.” 

His lips curved into a grateful smile as he nodded. "Thank you."

Y/N was so ensnared by his captivating eyes she had to force herself to look away, “Go shower. We’ll clean up down here.” 

Harry saluted playfully, brushing past her but not before pressing a hasty kiss to her cheek. Y/N gasped, spinning around and seeing a hint of a smirk on his face as he ran up the stairs.

“Ha Ha,” Elise croaked, pointing at her brother. 

Y/N’s expression softened at the little girl’s tired voice, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

As Sonny and Patsy helped clean the kitchen, Molly made a start on dinner and George and Y/N bathed Elise in the kitchen sink. Although Elise was exhausted from being sick all afternoon, everyone went about their chores whilst trying to bring a smile to her face. Whenever she giggled at George and Sonny's antics or Patsy's playful arguing with Sonny whenever he attempted to flirt with her, the group would cheer from their achievement at making her laugh. 

Once they’d put all the dishes on the table, Harry had come down from his shower. Y/N drew in a breath when he walked through the door with damp curls and a towel around his waist, “Jus’ need to grab something,” He smirked as he walked past Y/N who caught the smell of his coconut shampoo. 

As Y/N stood at the kitchen sink to get rid of Elise’s bath water, she felt his solid form come up behind her. Her lips parted, a breath of air escaping her, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. With his other arm, he reached out, his hand still resting on her shoulder, to open the cupboard above her and pulled out a clean hand towel.

The warmth spreading through her body dissolved once he pulled away. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she heard his feet against the floor fade as he left the room. 

To her side, Molly and Patsy were trying not to laugh as they covered their mouths and tried to resume what they had previously been talking about before they were briefly interrupted. Y/N rolled her eyes and walked to the table to begin plating up dinner for everybody. 

Harry had returned from his shower and now sat at the end of the table with Y/N to his right and Elise beside her sitting in a high chair. She was nibbling at the food George had prepped for her, taking small bites when she felt like it.

Everyone tucked into their meal as a smooth jazz record lulled in the background. Suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence, George piped up, “So is everyone dating at this table?” 

Sonny groaned, “Why’d you bring that up?”

“Because!” George paused, cutting into his meat, “I can’t handle the tension in this room, it’s like you all want to have sex with each other.” 

“George don’t be so vulgar,” Molly snapped, her tone sharp, “But he does have a point.” 

“Well Patsy and I are together,” Sonny put an arm around Patsy’s shoulders only to receive an angry glare in return, “What?” He took his arm back, “They already figured it out!”

“Well, what about Y/N and Harry,” Patsy crossed her arms, wanting to divert the attention to something else, all heads turning to face the couple at the end of the table.

“Well, I-I-“ Y/N was all flustered, not knowing how to approach the subject until Harry stepped in.

“It’s up to Y/N,” Harry shrugged, taking a bite from his fork. Y/N’s head whipped in his direction, “I’ll do whatever she wants me to do.”��

As he spoke the words, she felt his hand land on her thigh. Y/N stilled as he squeezed her knee but instead of freezing like she always seemed to do with him, she placed her hand on top of his and flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers wanting to show him at least some grace for his ability to speak when she couldn’t find the words. 

“Well good for Y/N. You see not all girls are easily swayed by you boys, you know.” Molly remarked.

“Ahh are you sure about that Mol? Maybe it’s just because you’re the only girl here who hasn’t tried to sleep with any of us.” George quipped with a teasing grin. 

Molly scowled, “Don’t you have to follow Nancy around or something?”

Sonny burst out laughing as George’s face fell, “Yeah yeah, you can all laugh but the other day I swear I almost got a smile outta her.” 

“Oh nice, an almost smile yeah that’s really great George.” Everyone laughed around the table.

By the time dinner was over and everyone had been ridiculed at least once, Elise was already half asleep. Harry volunteered to tuck her in, lifting her gently and carrying her upstairs to her bedroom. As the others stepped outside for a smoke break, Y/N took it upon herself to clear the empty plates and tidy up.

Before tidying, Y/N went upstairs to use the bathroom. As she climbed the steps, she noticed a partially open door. Intrigued by the humming coming from the room, she quietly peeked inside.

It was dark other than a small candle lit up in the corner of the room. Harry stood by the window with Elise in his arms. Her cheek was resting on his shoulder as her small hands fisted the sleeve of his shirt. His big hand rubbed up and down her tiny back as her eyes fluttered open and closed. She almost resembled a cherub resting on a fluffy cloud as Harry hummed her to sleep, his head turning an inch to press a soft kiss to the side of her head. 

Y/N's eyes glistened with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her heart felt like it was trying to leap out of her chest and walk into the room to join them. The longer she stayed fixed on the two siblings, alone in one space, it seemed as if they were the only two people existing, if only for a brief moment in time.

Not wanting to disturb their peace and quiet, Y/N carefully tiptoed away from them to give them the space they needed. 

She stood at the kitchen sink and began filling it with water and soap. Her mind drifted to the image of Harry holding Elise almost as if he were her own father. Y/N’s heart had been hurting for Harry and his siblings ever since he had broken down to her on the hill. A part of her wondered if she was doing all this because she felt she had to fulfil some kind of duty to them but it never felt like work helping the Styles’ siblings, she just had a spot for them in her heart that was growing exponentially by the day. 

Y/N felt that presence that had become so familiar to her, come up behind her as she cleaned the dishes. His arms snaked around her waist, swaying them slowly to the gentle bossa nova that played over the record player, “Dance with me,” He murmured, pulling her away from the sink. 

Y/N laughed, spinning around in his arms and pressing her wet and soapy hands to his face. Harry’s face scrunches, “Have I told y’ I love y’ today?” He asked, nuzzling his cheek in her palm. 

“Hmm,” Y/N pretended to think, “I don’t think so.”

“Well I do,” He says, “I love you bigger than the whole sky, Birdy.” 

“I love you too,” Y/N replies because she always will no matter how angry she is or was with him. 

“Enough to forgive me?” He tries but his face already says he knows the answer. 

Y/N inches forward, her lips brushing his, “Almost,” 

Harry grins, pulling her in closer, “This could be our life y’know.” 

“What could?” 

“All this,” He motions to the house, “We have our own house and make our own food. Everyone is safe and we’re happy. Maybe have a couple of kids-”

Y/N scoffs, “A couple?” 

“Alright,” Harry chuckles, his head falling back, “One, five, eight or even zero, I don’t care I jus’ wanna be with you.” 

“That sounds nice,” Y/N sighed, falling in love with the image she had painted in her mind, “And we’d live here?” 

Harry kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on it as they swayed, “We can live wherever y’ want Birdy, I go where you go.” 

Y/N can’t help but pull his neck down to kiss her. Even though they weren’t exactly together, Y/N couldn’t help but kiss him when she wanted to, which was more often than it wasn’t. She’d never tire of the way his lips felt against hers, how she’d melt in his embrace and feel his heart beating against his chest. 

“Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean we’re together,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“I know Birdy, I know.” He smiles, kissing her even harder.

Harry ends up helping Y/N clean the kitchen, drying the dishes while she washes them. It's a new experience for him, doing something domestic with the person he loves. It feels small and simple yet meant more to him than he could seem to understand.

“Since I’m tryin’ to be better, I gotta tell y’ something,” Harry pinches her sleeve, needing to touch her in some way at all times.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, immediately beginning to worry. 

“Oh no it’s nothing so bad, it’s just my Mama sent us a letter a few weeks ago and I think ‘m gonna go visit her without the boys.” He shrugs, “Jus’ to check in on her y’ know?” 

Y/N knew Harry didn’t want to admit the truth about his visit. Despite the fact he never had a close relationship with his mother, he had always been her protector. Harry couldn’t stay away from his home no matter how hard he tried, too afraid that if he did, something detrimental would happen and he’d feel nothing but guilt for the rest of his life. 

“On your own?” Y/N frowned, “Y’ don’t even want George to come with you?”

“If George goes he’ll jus’ get upset. I probably won’t even tell ‘em I’m going, I jus’ wanna make sure everything is okay. Maybe if I show m’ face she’ll stop sending so many letters every weekend.” His voice carried a mix of concern and weariness.

“Well okay,” Y/N paused for a brief second, “I mean I could come with you, maybe, i-if that’s something you’d want.”

Fear flashed in Harry’s eyes, “No,” He stated firmly, “I’m not letting you anywhere near that old bastard.”

Y/N knew he was referring to his father, “I won’t let you go alone, Harry. It’s either me or one of your brother’s but I will not let you go into that house by yourself.” She wasn’t going to lie and say that she wasn’t afraid for him. She’d never met his Father or truly knew the depths to which he had gone into causing such trauma for Harry but she wasn’t going to allow it to continue. “Please, let me come with you.”

Harry opened his mouth to immediately reject her offer but paused, considering her words carefully. He saw the determination in her eyes, the fierce loyalty she held for him, and it touched something deep within him. He also knew she was stubborn and wouldn’t let up over something like this no matter how much he refused. 

After a moment of silence, he sighed, relenting. "Alright," he finally murmured, his voice laced with apprehension. "But promise me, Y/N, you'll stay close and keep your guard up. My old man... he's not an easy man to deal with. We’ll be in and out of tha’ house all in the same day.”

Y/N nodded solemnly, her resolve unwavering, “Thank you,” She said. 

. . .

With the days that passed before Harry would return to his childhood town, his fear and anxiety seemed to grow. His nightmares had continued to worsen, each one of them had turned into one about Y/N. On the nights when Y/N slept in her own bed, he found himself walking through the dimmed streets in the middle of the night to sneak into her house and crawl under the covers with her. She’d whisper soft things into his ear, promising that everything he dreamt of was simply just that, but he struggled to believe her as he held her tightly in his arms until the morning arrived. 

They took the two-hour train from the station to his home town in Wyoming on the day of the visit. Harry barely spoke a word as he held Y/N’s hand in his lap all the way there. They had decided on wearing somewhat fancy attire. Harry wore tailored trousers with a belt and a white shirt tucked into it, whilst Y/N settled on a new blouse she had yet to wear and a long skirt with kitten heels. They hadn’t spoken it aloud but part of them wanted to show without telling his parents just how well they were doing for themselves. 

“Baby,” Harry whispered, nudging Y/N awake after she dozed off on his shoulder, “We’re here now,” 

Y/N hummed, her eyes fluttering open to the window. Outside was the train station which was really just a raised platform by the train tracks with a small ticket booth nearby. The place was almost deserted, with only a few people stepping off as the train pulled in. Harry grabbed her purse and held Y/N’s hand as they exited the train and stepped onto the platform. It wasn’t long before the train was off again, leaving a bellow of smoke behind. 

Glancing around, Y/N noticed how grey Harry’s hometown was. The buildings seemed weathered, and besides the train station, there wasn't much else to see—just a row of buildings housing a grocery store, a clothing shop, and a bank. Everything became increasingly sparse and lifeless the further out of town you ventured, and Harry’s house just so happened to be situated on the outskirts. 

When they left the train station, Harry walked to a cab that was already parked outside with no other customers. He opened the door for Y/N to enter first, “Are you okay?” Y/N asked, sensing Harry’s discomfort.

“Y’ know there’s nothing more I wanna do than take y’ back to Offutt right?” His eyes were hard as he stared between the two front seats out of the windshield of the beaten-up vehicle. 

"I know," Y/N's voice was quiet, a hint of uncertainty creeping in as she wondered if she had pushed too far by insisting on accompanying him. However, before she could dwell on her thoughts further, he picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to it, reassuring her without words.

Y/N tried not to react too shocked when the vehicle stopped far outside of the town they had entered. In front of them was a house that looked as though it was made out of planks of wood hammered together. There was a front porch with a rocking chair that was rotting away and a clothesline with white sheets blowing in the breeze. 

“This is your home?” Y/N wondered, looping her arm with Harry’s when he came up beside her. 

“It’s never been m’home,” He replied, lowly. 

As they approached the front door, it creaked open before they could even knock. Standing behind it was a woman with the same green eyes Y/N had noticed in each of her children. Her hair was wispy and greying, with streaks of brunette that were a darker shade than Harry’s. She had heavy bags under her eyes and wrinkles all over her face. Her thin lips turned into a smile, her eyes watering as she opened her arms to the man beside Y/N, “My boy,” She croaked. 

Harry stiffened when he felt her arms wrap around him, “Mom,” He grumbled. 

The woman pulled away and then her eyes turned to Y/N, her smile drooping, “Who’s this?”

Harry opened his mouth to introduce herself but Y/N quickly stepped in, “I’m a friend of your son, we met on the Airbase.” She held her hand out.

Harry’s mother looked down at her hand and then back to Harry, “You’re bringing girls home now? Where are your brothers?” 

Harry’s jaw tightened, “They’re not here.”

“And Elise?” She went on. 

“She’s back home,” 

“This is her home,” His mother argued, “And I’m her mother,”

“We won’t be staying here for long,” Harry said, moving past his mother and stepping into the house. Y/N tried to offer his mother a smile but she just frowned. 

The inside of Harry’s childhood home was cold and empty, lacking any hint of life or sign of a whole family living here for well over ten years. Bits of furniture littered the house here and there, each individual piece looked battered and beaten. 

“Are you staying for dinner at least Harry? I’ve been cooking all afternoon,” His mother walked to the small kitchen and started stirring a pot that was already cooking on the stove.

Harry looked down at Y/N, “We can stay,” She told him even though she knew he didn’t like the idea, she didn’t want to let his mother’s cooking go to waste. 

“M taking Y/N to m’ room,” Harry grumbled, unwilling to wait for his mother to say anything. 

Y/N followed him to a small room near the living room. It was no bigger than an average old pantry, containing only a small, single bed and a little chair and table tucked into the corner. Above the bed hung a mobile adorned with wooden planes painted blue, dangling gently. Y/N reached out and held one of the jagged wooden planes in her palm.

The corners of her lips turned upwards as she examined it, wondering if Harry’s love for planes stemmed from a young age. Turning round to face him, she fell back onto his bed and sighed, “Come lay with me,” Her hand dangled from the bed, her fingers reaching out to brush his. 

Harry shook his head but fell onto the bed beside her, his feet dangling off the end. It was so small that Y/N had to practically lay on top of him, her chin resting on his chest as she looked up at him. She brushed some of his hair out of his face, “How are you feeling?” She checked in. 

“Strange,” He murmurs, “Seeing you in this house made me realise how foreign this place is to me now. You’re home and this is just… Something I don’t want in my life anymore.” 

Y/N’s gaze softens, “Your mom never told me her name, I don’t think she likes me very much.”

Harry’s hand slides up her back to play with the ends of her hair, “She doesn’t like anyone really but her name’s Debbie if y’ must know.”

“Debbie,” Y/N replies, her voice soft, “Hey, if things get uncomfortable we can go, just say the word.”

Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude at her calming, understanding nature, “Thank you for being here.” 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Y/N teased and Harry laughed, the sound echoing in the darkened room of his childhood. 

Despite Debbie’s cold attitude towards her, Y/N still tried to make an effort by helping set the table for dinner. In the corner of her eye, she caught Harry fussing over his mother when he saw her hands were all scathed from being outside every day as she poured stew into each bowl. The image made her eyes glisten with tears that threatened to fall until she blinked them away.

As they placed each bowl of stew on the table, a thud sounded from outside and then the squeak of the hinges on the front door as it swung open. Y/N’s heart stopped as Harry paced towards her, moving her behind him as an old man stumbled in. She grabbed Harry’s sleeve, peeking past him to see a man with hazel eyes and balding, grey hair. His face was wrinkled and scruffy, his nose red but his face gaunt. His footsteps were heavy against the wooden floorboards, with every inhale of his breath he seemed to suck out the warmth from the house. 

His eyes fell on Harry and then to Y/N, “Hello boy,” His voice sounded like gravel as he spoke. 

“Old man,” Harry’s voice was something Y/N had never heard from him before. It felt like he was trying to control all of his anger whilst also trying not to show his fear. She squeezed his arm a little, hoping it would give him some reassurance. 

“Nice to know you’ve remembered your family,” He sniffled, closing the door behind him. 

“Y’ make it hard to forget,” Harry replied. 

Debbie walked in between them like it was something she had done many times before whenever there was tension, “Jack, you’re  just in time for dinner.” She was much too cheery but it felt hollow and insincere, “Harry’s friend is joining us from that camp they’re staying at.” 

Jack glanced at Debbie with a flicker of annoyance before turning his attention back to Harry and Y/N. "Well, aren't we all just one big happy fuckin’ family," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N felt the tension in the room thicken, a silent battle unfolding between the family members. She exchanged a knowing glance with Harry, silently urging him to stay composed.

Ignoring Jack's jab, Debbie gestured towards the dining table. "Come on, let's sit down and eat. I've made your favourite, Jack," she said. 

Sitting at the table, Jack's presence felt heavy in the room. Y/N looked at Harry, silently showing her support. She knew dinner would be tricky, but she was committed to being there for Harry. She held his hand under the table and squeezed. Harry rubbed his thumb over the pulse point on her wrist in order to relax himself. 

It was just dinner and they’d be going home straight afterwards. Home to his real family, where it was safe and he was most loved. 

Debbie came out of the kitchen with two cans of beer and placed them in front of Jack before sitting beside him. He cleared his throat as he opened both cans, “Where are y’ brothers?” 

“Not here,” Harry spoke, lowly.

“Don’t get funny with me boy, where are they?” 

“I already told you.” Y/N jumped when Jack’s hand smacked down on the table, Harry’s hand squeezing her in assurance like this was a normal reaction to have. 

“You’ve left y’ brothers at that camp and bought this random whore here?” He spat.

“Don’t call her that,” Harry said through gritted teeth. 

“I don’t even know her fuckin’ name and y’ bought her into my house?” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Y/N interrupted him, “My name is Y/N,” She said, her eyes hard, “And if that’s how you speak to someone you don’t know Mr Styles, I hate to see how you speak to those you do.” 

Y/N could feel all eyes on her at the dinner table but she ignored them, acting as though what she said didn’t matter, as she tucked into the stew that was in front of her. “Next time you come back here,” Jack gruffed, “Y’ bring your brother’s. Much prefer them here anyway.” 

This time it was Y/N’s turn to feel a bubble of anger rising within her, “Don’t want no more whores in my house, except y’ mother,” He chuckled, darkly, “She’s the only one allowed here.”

Harry shot up, his chair scraping against the floor, “How fuckin’ dare you,” He spat. 

“Sit down,” His Father ordered, refusing to look up at him. 

“Harry,” Debbie whispered, tugging on his hand to try and pull him down.

Reluctantly, Harry lowered himself to his seat. His jaw clenched as he stole a glance at Y/N, silently grateful for her unwavering support in the face of his family's hostility. He’d refuse to open his mouth for the rest of the dinner, in hopes it would speed things up and they could leave. He was filled with regret that he had allowed Y/N to come to this Hellscape, even more so for even considering it in the first place. 

It fell silent- nothing but the scraping of cutlery against plates- until Y/N decided to speak, her anger too much to withhold any longer, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me that Mr Styles,” Harry must have gotten whiplash from how quickly his head whipped around to look at Y/N as she spoke. 

“Say that again,” Jack replied, lowly.

“I said I would appreciate it if you’d stop calling me a whore, it’s rather distasteful.” Y/N dared to look up at him, meeting his lifeless eyes when she did. She felt Harry’s fingers squeeze hers but she refused to break eye contact with the only man who she had ever hated before even meeting him. 

“Distasteful? What are y’ a slut from Preston?” 

“No,” Y/N continued, “I’m not a whore or a slut from Preston and if you knew me or your own son, you’d know he wouldn’t dare bring someone with the likes of you home with him.”

Rage flashed in Jack’s eye, “Why you little-” 

Harry rose to his feet as Jack raised his hand in the air, bracing himself for the impending blow. But before Jack could strike, Y/N intervened. "The fact that you assume so little about me, Mr. Styles, is your first mistake," Y/N declared, her voice unwavering. "Truthfully, I know people. Put a hand on me, and I'll go straight to my father. He's a doctor, you see—a very important one who knows a lot of important people. One of his patients just so happens to be the Governor. Do you know the Governor, Mrs. Styles?" Y/N directed a smile at the timid lady sitting opposite her, who blinked in response and quickly nodded her head.

"As much as I hate throwing around big names, sometimes it pays to know people more powerful than those who assume they have it all," Y/N continued, her gaze steady on Jack. "Wouldn't you say, Mr. Styles?"

Y/N stood up from the table as Jack’s jaw clenched, biting his tongue to stop from speaking. She grabbed Harry’s hand and intertwined their fingers, “To answer your question, your sons are at Offutt Air Base not camp. It’s their home where their older brother raised them along with that little girl you both abandoned. You can assume I’m a whore or a slut or whatever you think I am however much you like Mr Styles but I will not let you sit there and strip all of the love your son has shown to your children when you weren’t willing to give them anything.” 

“Thank you for the dinner Mrs Styles but we’re leaving,” Y/N looked up at Harry who was already looking at her with nothing but pride all over his face, “I’m sorry Harry but I can’t stay here anymore.”

He nodded, following her out of the house but stopping when his father stood in front of him. Y/N gasped when Harry raised his arm and punched his father straight across the face. Jack groaned, cupping his nose as blood began to drip from it. Harry gripped his shirt in a fist, “Call my wife a whore again and I’ll fucking end you.” He spat, pushing him away. 

Y/N and Harry ignored his mother as she fretted about his now injured Father, walking out of the house. 

As soon as they stepped off the porch, Harry pulled Y/N to the side of the house where they were shielded from view and pressed her against the wall. His lips met hers eagerly, his hands cradling her face as her eyes fluttered shut. "You called me your wife," she breathed between kisses.

"Easy mistake," he replied quickly before his lips seeked hers once more. 

Once they pulled away, their chests heaving and Harry’s lips tinged pink from Y/N’s lipstick, the biggest grin stretched across his face, his eyes sparkling more than she had ever seen before, “I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did.”

Y/N’s eyes watered, a mixture of love and the come down from the adrenaline that had fueled her in the last few moments all began to hit her at once, “You are everything to me,” He murmured, “Everything.” 

"I love you too, Harry.” Y/N leapt into his arms, wrapping herself around him and refusing to let go. 

After leaving the house, it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted, as though a burdensome weed had been plucked from their lives. The air seemed lighter, and even the moon appeared to shine a bit brighter overhead. As they walked, Y/N couldn't help but notice the peace reflected in Harry's eyes whenever he glanced up at the sky.

Though it wasn't the end, it felt like the first step towards releasing the things that brought no good into Harry's life. With Harry's arm lazily draped over her shoulder and hers around his waist, they stumbled down the street, unable to find a taxi or any passing vehicles to take them back to the train station. To outsiders, they might have seemed like a drunken couple, but in reality, they were simply two people deeply in love and, for that moment, they felt truly free—and that feeling was even better.

They boarded the last train back to Offutt that night, and Harry was adamant about keeping Y/N close. Despite the empty carriage, he insisted she sit with him, to the point where she was practically sitting on his lap.

As Y/N grew tired, Harry allowed her to rest her head in his lap while she stretched out across the seats. He gently played with her hair and traced the contours of her face. "Can I show you something when we get back?" he whispered. Although exhausted, and longing to simply fall asleep with him in her bed, she nodded in agreement.

Y/N giggled as Harry skipped ahead, the smile on his face had yet to be replaced as he led her to the warehouses at the airbase. “C’mon slowpoke,” Harry called much too loudly for this time of night. 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Y/N shook her head, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Keys jangled in his back pocket as he pulled out a chain that had too many keys for Y/N to count dangling from it. He plucked one out and put it into the padlock that was keeping a lock on the large, metal doors to one of the hangars where the planes were kept. 

The doors clanked open as Harry pulled them apart enough for them to walk through. The light from the moon slipped through the gap, creating a dim light within the hangar. Harry switched on the lights in the panel on the side and the whole room lit up. Y/N followed Harry as he took her to the back of the warehouse where some of the planes which needed fixing up were kept. 

He stopped in front of a single-engine propellor aeroplane, painted blue with white stripes. It had a cockpit with a glass canopy and seated two people inside. Y/N frowned, “Is this what you wanted to show me?” Living on an airbase, she’d obviously seen plenty of planes that were different variations of the one in front of her so she was unsure what she was meant to be looking at that had got Harry so excited.  

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. He came up behind her and placed both his hands over her eyes to cover them. She stumbled as he nudged her forwards towards the side of the plane, “We’ve been working on this for a while and me and the boys have been struggling to give it a name. It was only until I met you that I realised what the perfect name for it was.” Harry removed his hands from her eyes, Y/N’s eyes squinting to adjust to the light until they focused on a word written in yellow on the side of the plane. 

Birdy. 

Y/N’s lips parted, walking up to touch the yellow font to see if it was real. She turned on her heel, eyes watering, “You named a plane after me?”

Harry bit back a grin, eyes twinkling, “Of course I did,” He whispered, “Need you with me all the time, now I can have you in the air too.” 

“Oh Harry,” She sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck, “It’s wonderful,” 

“Yeah? Y’ like it darling?” He kissed the top of her head. 

“I love it,” She sighed, her eyes darting to the cockpit, “Can we sit in it?”

“Course,” Harry helped her up the little ladder and into the cockpit, before sitting in the spot next to her. “The electrics aren’t on so if y’ touch anything it won’t move.” Y/N’s hands pressed some of the buttons, still unable to believe she had a plane named after her. 

Harry smiled watching her and then leaned in to kiss her. Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Harry deepened it, his tongue sliding into her mouth and his teeth nipping at her bottom lip. “Harry,” Y/N breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as he began to kiss down her neck. 

“This is for you baby. There ain’t nobody else for me,” He whispered, “and I don’t want anybody else.” 

His fingers brushed down the skin of her arms as her head rolled to the side. He kissed the base of the column of her neck, “You love me?” He asks, voice raspy. 

“I do,” Y/N hums, her hands all over his clothed torso gripping the fabric in tight fists. 

“How much,” Y/N gasped as his fingers played with the buttons of her blouse before he slowly undid the first one. He pressed his lips to her collarbones as he continued on the next button. 

Y/N’s hands fell to the buckle of his belt, tugging on the metal to pull him closer. With every inch of skin that was revealed, Harry would place a small kiss there like he was worshipping every inch. Y/N could feel his breath fan over the top of her breasts as he got to the middle button, “C’mon baby, how much?” He taunted. 

His hand slid up her back under her shirt to the clasp of her bra, “Tell me how much y’ love me and I’ll make y’ feel good hmm? Is that what y’ want birdy?” 

Y/N nodded, “So much Harry, so much.”

“What?” Harry grinned, “Y’ love me so much or y’ want me so much?” 

“Both,” Y/N gasped, “Please,” 

Harry’s lips mould with hers as he uses both hands to remove her blouse, the buttons flying everywhere. Y/N’s hands fumble to remove his belt as Harry tugs his own shirt off hurriedly. His hands are hot against her body as he unclips the clasp of her bra, “So beautiful,” He says, in awe. 

Y/N’s cheeks heat at the compliment. His hand splays across her bag, his pinky finger digging into the hem of her skirt as he continues to kiss her deeply. “Harry, I-” Her face feels hot as she stops herself, feeling too embarrassed to ask the question.

“What is it darling?” He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

She looks up at him, her eyes round and full of lust, she cups the bulge of his dick through his trousers in her hand, “Please?” She whines.

“Y’ wanna suck on m’ cock sweet girl?” He smirks, seeing her get all flustered as she nods quickly. She’s already trying to unbuckle his belt before he has time to say anything else. Her eyes widened when his cock springs out of his boxers, she still couldn’t get over how big he was as she wrapped two hands around the thick girth and pumped up and down. 

Harry groaned, feeling her hands wrapped around him. She pulled away to sit up on her knees in the seat, tucking her hair behind her ears and bending forward. Harry’s head falls back against the headrest as she puts one hand at the base of his cock and kisses the tip. “So big,” She murmurs. 

“Gonna take it in y’ pretty mouth baby?” Harry taunts in a playful tone.

Y/N sucks on the tip, her eyes closing as she tastes him for the first time. Gradually she takes him deeper, inch by inch, her tongue sliding against the thick vein of his cock as she does. “Good girl,” Harry praises her, grabbing her hair and holding it in a fist. 

She stops when the tip hits the back of her throat, using her hand to jerk off what she couldn’t take in her mouth. Harry groans when Y/N gags and pulls away to catch her breath, “Careful baby,” He squeezes her cheeks together and forces her to look at him. Seeing her red, glossy lips and hazy eyes, drool falling from the corner of her mouth from how big he was, almost made him cum right there. He wiped his thumb over her chin and kissed her, “Doing so good my girl,” He murmured against her lips. 

As she goes back to mouthing at his cock, he can’t help but run a hand down her back and squeeze her ass beneath her skirt. Y/N makes a sound that sends vibrations down his cock and he knew she’d have to stop before he came down her throat, “Need to be inside y’ baby,' ' Harry spoke. 

Y/N’s pops him out of her mouth, “Are y’ gonna fuck me now?” Her big doe eyes look up at him. She almost looked innocent if it weren’t for his cock in her fist. 

“Yeah darling girl, M gonna love on y’ now.” He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. 

Y/N's hands tangled in his curls as she adjusted herself to lay back on the seats. Harry’s lips parted as he looked down at her, her chest heaving and her nipples pebbling under his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, the glass canopy around them fogging up with their breaths. 

Harry swallowed, moving on top of her and holding himself up with his hands pressed into the plush seat beneath. Y/N’s legs parted for him to rest between them, her hands going to his back, fingers digging into the hard muscle. 

“Are y’ okay?” Harry murmured, brushing some of the hair from her face.

Y/N smiled, “I’m fine,” 

Y/N could feel his hardened length on the inside of her thigh as he pulled her skirt up and revealed her white panties. Harry tutted, “Did sucking me off make y’ this wet baby?” He asked, his fingers moving her panties to the side to reveal her dripping cunt. 

Harry’s fingers dipped between her folds, brushing over her clit to collect some of her wetness before smearing it all over her pussy. His hand travelled down, smearing her juices over the tip of his cock before he lined himself up with her. 

“Y’know, I don’t think I ever apologised properly for what I did that day,” He pressed open mouthed kisses a long her jawline as the tip of his cock teased her entrance, “What do y’ say darling girl? Y’gonna let me be good and fuck my apology into you?”

Y/N’s hips bucked into him, “Mhmm,” 

Looping her arms around his neck, Y/N’s lips parted as Harry eased himself into her. She was suddenly reminded of just how big he was as he moved further and further inside of her until he bottomed out and she could feel every inch of him as she clamped around him,  “S’ good,” She hummed, her eyes fluttering open and closed. 

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled, kissing her quickly, “M nice and snug? Can y’ feel me in y’ baby?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing his hand and spreading out his fingers to press them against her tummy, “Feel you here,” She sighed.

Harry kissed her forehead, “Y’ like that?” 

“The best,” She smiled, lazily. 

“Made just f’ me that’s why,” Harry smirked.

Slowly, Harry began to slide in and out of her, taking his time knowing this moment was different to their first time. It was softer- gentle even. Y/N whines, feeling all of him against the walls of her pussy. Harry groans when he sees her stomach bulge when he moves back in her - a sight he could never overcome no matter how hard he tried. 

“Y’ fucking perfect Y/N. Feels so good.” Harry’s voice wavered as he felt himself get lost in the feeling of her.

As his hips moved faster, the closer he was to his release. He held her hips, glancing down to see his cock moving in and out of her. He feels her pussy clenching tightly around him, signifying she was close to her release too. 

“Am I making my girl feel good? Hmmm?” He presses his nose against her cheek as her head falls to the side. “M’ best girl, lovin’ me the way you do, how’d I get so lucky?”  Y/N couldn’t seem to find the words to reply, her body writhing beneath him. 

Harry pressed his hand down on her tummy, the added pressure making her groan, “Y’ gonna have my babies in there one day?” 

“Yes,” Y/N gasps as he fucks her harder. 

“Yeah? Gonna have all my kids and be a pretty little housewife?” Y/N whimpers, her hands scratching down his back. “I love y’ so much.” He whispers. 

“Love you,” Y/N slurred. 

Harry’s hand begins to rub at her clit, the added sense of pleasure filling her entire body with heat that only continued to build the more he pumped his heavy dick inside of her. Y/N feverishly craned her neck to kiss him, needing that extra physical touch. 

“Y’ gonna let me cum in you, darling girl?” Harry murmured, his voice shaking. 

“Please cum in me Harry,” Y/N’s eyes blurred as the bubble of heat burst in her belly. 

With a final thrust, Harry released a heavy groan as his cock filled her insides with his cum. Y/N’s back arched into him as her breath caught in her throat, her eyes rolling back when she came around him at the same time. 

Harry fell on top of Y/N, his sweaty forehead against her chest. She lazily moved her hand to his hair, running her fingers through his soft curls. Harry puckered his lips to press a kiss right where her heart was beating erratically. 

A silence fell around them as they tried to catch their breaths, “Have y’ forgiven me yet?” Harry murmured, his hands tracing patterns on her hip.

"I think I forgave you ages ago; I just wanted to punish you a little," Y/N admitted, a truth she had realised for a while now.

"I deserved it," Harry agreed.

"You did," Y/N acknowledged.

“But I’ll be better. For you, I’ll be anything but I’ll always try to be better,” He looked up.

Y/N cupped his face, “I don’t need you to be anything but you.” 

Harry kissed her palm, “Thank you… For it all.”

. . .

“Are you nervous?” Patsy asked as the girls sat on top of the hill on a picnic blanket. 

“A little,” Y/N lied, she had hardly been able to sit still since this morning. 

“Hey,” Molly smoked a cigarette, “These boys have done this plenty of times, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“I just hope it all goes well, they’ve been working months on this.” Y/N’s eyes darted around to see if she could spot him. 

Elise sat on the picnic blanket in a diaper, chewing on her fingers and making noises. Molly swooped her up in her arms as she stood, “What do you think Elise? Will your brothers actually do something smart?” Molly cooed. 

Patsy hit her shoulder lightly, “Don’t be so mean,” 

Y/N’s ears pricked as she heard the sound of an engine in the distance. She removed her sunglasses, trying to see where the source of the sound was coming from. “Look!” Patsy pointed towards the thing moving in the blue sky. 

Y/N’s caught sight of the blue plane flying in the air, if she squinted enough she could see the yellow spelling of her nickname on the side, “He’s there!” Y/N laughed in disbelief, “He’s there!”

The plane flew closer and Y/N could make out Harry sitting in the cockpit with George beside him. All the girls waved, Elise giggling as they jumped up and down. Y/N took her hat off and started waving it around to try and catch Harry’s attention.

His head turned and a huge grin spread across his face as he saw her wearing a red dress just like she had told him she would after he told her they’d be flight testing the plane again and he wanted her to be there to watch. 

“Will you be able to see me on the ground?” Y/N asked as she sat atop his worktop whilst he worked on the plane, her legs swinging backwards and forwards. 

“It depends on how close y’ are. I can’t really see that well when ‘m flying high up.” He tells her.

“Hmm,” Y/N thinks, “What if I wear something colourful? Will y’ be able to see me then?”

Harry bites back a smile, “Maybe,” He shrugs, coming up to stand between her legs. He leans forward to kiss her, “Why? Y’ planning on wearing something special for me Birdy?” 

Y/N bites her lip, her eyes sparkling, “Possibly.”

“C’mon,” Patsy snatched the blanket off the grass, “They’re going to land soon,”

The girls headed back to the runway where the plane would land. They could already see Sonny looking through his bicolours. Patsy waved, running towards him and falling into his arms. “Did y’ see?” He looked down at her, happiness all over his face. 

“It’s great baby,” Patsy kissed him. 

Y/N watched as the plane descended, growing bigger against the sky. With a rumble, the wheels made contact with the ground, the plane gradually slowing down as it ran down the runway. Everyone ran towards the plane as Harry lifted the glass chamber and hopped out with George coming round the other side.

Cheers sounded through the air from everybody. Harry’s eyes immediately met Y/N’s, his hands reaching out to catch her in his arms. She leapt into his embrace, moulding her lips against his, “That was incredible!” She squealed when they pulled away. 

“Yeah?” Harry was trying to remain calm but she could tell he was proud of what he and his brothers had achieved today, “Y’ proud of me?” 

“So unbelievably proud,” Y/N spoke, her eyes radiating the truth in her words. 

“Ha, Ha!” Elise squealed for her brother.

Harry’s smile widened into a grin as Molly placed Elise into his arms, “Did you see that Elise?” He kissed her chubby cheek, “Did y’ see your brother flying?” 

Elise just babbled in response. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around Harry and Elise, joining in the embrace. At that moment, surrounded by the people he cared about most, Harry knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. With a contented smile, he squeezed Y/N's hand, silently thanking her for always believing in him.

“Hey have any of you seen-” George glanced around before his eyes landed on someone in the distance, “There she is,” He murmured to himself. 

Everyone watched as he ran towards a woman standing by the entrance of the warehouse, “Is that Nancy?” Molly held a hand over her eyes to block the sun so she could get a better look at them.

“Hey, I think it is,” Patsy agreed, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Y/N looked up at Harry who just shrugged. 

. . . 

The same evening, the Styles’ house was filled to the brim with people who had come over for their house party, celebrating the success of today. Elise was staying at a family’s house since the party would most definitely be going on well into the night. 

Y/N observed Harry from across the room as he engaged in conversation with his pilot friends as she sipped on a cocktail Patsy had given her. She had no idea what was in it but she drank it anyway, knowing it was probably better not to ask. Every so often, their eyes would meet, and a smile would pass between them as they communicated in a language only they knew. 

She noticed his lips were still tinged red from the lipstick she had kissed him with as they got ready for the house party. Y/N had offered to wipe it away for him but he liked the idea of people knowing he had been kissing you just by looking at the colour of his lips and yours.

Y/N’s heart felt so at peace as she glanced around the room and spotted each member of her found family. Her life had been so grey and mundane until she came to Offutt where everything changed and love had given her a whole new palette of colours. 

It had been hard and full of ups and downs but it was worth it, every second of time was worth it. 

She felt a presence come up beside her and turned expecting to see Molly or Patsy but was surprised to see Nancy standing there, leaning against the wall next to her. “It’s funny, I’ve been here longer than you and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look at somebody the way Harry looks at you.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “Thank you? I’m not-”

“Listen,” Nancy turned to face her, “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “W-what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” Nancy turned away again, “I was a bitch and I liked Harry but not for the same reasons you do. I should have stood up for you and him the night of the bonfire when that asshole came and spoke to you but once again I was a bitch and quite honestly I probably still am a bitch but I’ve met someone who I really like and I’m trying to be better.” 

Y/N’s eyes softened, “Nancy-”

“I totally get it if you hate me and I don’t expect to be friends with you but George is Harry’s brother so we’re probably going to be seeing more of each other and-”

“Nancy,” Y/N interrupted her rambling, “It’s okay,” 

Nancy’s shoulders dropped, “Really? You don’t hate me?”

“I’ve never hated you, I just haven’t particularly liked you but I think that could change if we truly got to know each other.” Y/N shrugged. 

Nancy's eyes widened with surprise, hope flickering in them. "You mean that?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Y/N nodded, offering a small smile. “If you're George’s sister then one day we might be sister-in-laws and that would make things awfully strange if we didn’t get on, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah,” Nancy huffed, “Those boys sure do need a break from family drama. I mean there’s some serious daddy issues in that family.”

Y/N laughed, it was the first thing they both had ever agreed on, “You can say that again.”

Nancy's face lit up with relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion, “I-I’ve never been good at having friends and I truly am sorry for being so horrible. If it helps, I guess you managed to prove me wrong, I think I even proved myself wrong with the way things are now.” 

Y/N reached out and squeezed Nancy's hand reassuringly, “It’s all okay.” 

Nancy and Y/N spoke for a little longer. Giggling as they compared their boyfriend’s habits with one another until George came over and whisked Nancy away. 

A hand snaked around Y/N’s waist, her gaze falling on those ring-clad fingers. She turned to look up at those beautiful, green eyes, “Hi Harry,” 

“Hi Birdy,” He whispered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and then back up again. “Y making friends?”

“I’m trying,” She grinned. 

“Good to know,” He smirked and then held out his hand, sliding his fingers to thread with hers, “Y wanna dance with me?” 

“M not very good you know,” She had told him plenty of times before.

“S just swaying,” He repeated the words he said to her the first time they danced together. 

Y/N laughed softly as Harry pulled her closer, their bodies swaying gently to the smooth jazz music filling the room. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, Y/N relaxed into his embrace, letting the music wash over them. In that moment, as they moved together, there was nowhere else she'd rather be than in the arms of the pilot she pictured spending the rest of her life with. 

"What are you thinking in there?" Harry tapped the side of her head with the pad of his finger.

Y/N hummed, "I'm just happy,"

"Yeah? You are?"

"Yeah," Y/N sighed, resting her head against his heart, “I love you, Harry, so much,” Y/N murmured. 

“I love you too Birdy,” Harry leaned down to brush his lips with hers, “Bigger than the whole sky.”

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[writerracha]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ on the run — lee know x female reader

↻ 4.9k :: best friends to lovers :: cw. auditory voyeurism. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex (f and m receiving). soft deepthroat and throat fucking. use of "angel" nickname. unprotected sex. claiming. marking. creampie.

you have been accused of a crime you didn't commit. you have to run away, and your best friend minho comes with you. you're on the road, away from all you've ever known. but you are not alone. minho is here, and there are things you need to tell each other. noisy motel room neighbors might help you do just that.

↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You’ve been running for so long. 

Out of breath, out of hope. You wonder if, one day, all of this will stop. Falsely accused, framed by someone you thought loved you. You were sure you were done for, that you would have to spend the better part of your life in jail for a crime you didn’t commit - but then Minho had taken your hand and taken you away. 

He hadn’t hesitated. He just told you to get in the car, and when you did, he drove away. From your hometown, from everything both of you have always known. Now you are halfway across the country, with nothing to your name, just a car and some money. 

You don’t understand why he did it. Why he came with you. Minho was not involved in this, not in the slightest - yet he just left everything behind to stay with you. I don’t want you to be alone, he told you when you asked him why he helped you. I could never leave you on your own. Minho was your friend, your best friend. You met in high school and never let each other go. But he didn’t have to do this. Sacrifice his entire life, risk it all, and for what? Maybe you would get caught. Maybe the truth would come out. Maybe not. For now Minho kept telling you to look and move forward. Even when you felt your heart would tumble out from between your lips, even when the fear was so cold you thought you would die, Minho’s voice soothed you. It will be okay, Y/N. I will always be with you. 

You were on the road a lot at first. Avoiding people, putting as much distance between you and your hometown as you could. Minho had fortunately thought to take some cash out before you left, so you had funds. It would not last very long, but it would have to do. Then you would figure it out. 

The motel room is cold, so you slide your legs under the covers to keep warm. You decided to stop for the night and get some actual rest. You did not do it all the time to save cash. Most nights you would sleep at intervals, the other one driving while the other closed their eyes. But it was more exhausting than anything, so Minho had insisted on sleeping in actual beds for once. The motel was a dingy place off the highway, but it was better than nothing, and at least, here, no one would ask questions. 

You rest your head against your knees, watching the television without really seeing it. Your thoughts are restless, trying to figure out a way out of this - if not for you, then at least for Minho. Your best friend did not deserve to throw his life away for you. Especially not because your ex boyfriend, that piece of garbage, had been so angry at you breaking up with him he framed you for something he did. Why did people believe him? 

A sigh escapes your lips as the door of the room opens on Minho. His hoodie is drawn on his head, his hair tucked away. You feel relief to see him - the room felt cold and threatening without him. You’ve never been good at being alone, and it’s even worse now. 

“Hey,” he tells you, giving you a smile as he removes his sneakers. “How did the shower feel?” 

“Really good,” you chuckle. “Did you find everything?” 

He nods, placing the plastic bag on the bed. 

“I found you a paler shade, but they didn’t have much for me. I had to get purple.” 

“Purple?” you repeat, surprised. 

“Let’s hope it suits me,” he grins with a shrug. 

You take out the two boxes of hair dye from the bag, eyeing them. It was Minho’s idea to transform yourselves a little bit, just in case. All of it felt so much like a game you sometimes forgot it was real. But it was. 

Minho’s feet make no noise against the carpet of the room. He sits on the opposite bed and you glance at him. He removed his hood, his soft brown hair disheveled on his head. He has dark eyes under his eyes, and you know his exhaustion mirrors yours. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach, but you know what he will say if you say it out loud. I’m not leaving you alone. 

“Thanks for getting this,” you tell him.

He nods towards the drugstore plastic bag. “Got us a few things to eat, too. Nothing fancy, but…” 

“It’s great. I’m not too hungry, though.” 

“Me neither. It’s so cold here.” 

“I know, right? I tried to fix the heater, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken.” 

Minho shuffles towards the appliance and toys with it for a minute. You try to watch the television, but instead your eyes are focused on him. His dark hoodie, his faded jeans, his white socks. The frown on his face and the slight pout of his lips that he gets when he’s focused. Minho is the best friend you’ve ever had. You know him well - and him, you. You’ve gone through heartbreaks, defeats, joys, and countless other things together. But this? This is changing you. Both of you. 

And even if you feel awful about dragging him into this, you are glad he’s here. 

You wouldn’t want it to be anybody else. 

After some time, Minho clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nothing we can do with this…” 

“It’s fine, Min,” you say. “We’ll warm up some other way.” 

He gives you a long look and you realize what it could infer. You blush slightly. 

“I just mean, we could share a bed. Share the warmth.” 

He gives you a nod, his eyes looking soft in the dim light of the room. “Okay.” 

You tap the space next to you playfully. With an amused chuckle, Minho comes to sit next to you, tucking his legs under the sheets. The bed is not that big, so even if there is some space between you, it doesn’t feel like it. You are not shy about it - you’ve slept in the same bed numerous times, you’ve even cuddled before. But this still feels new, in a way. It feels odd. 

It feels like you and Minho are the only people left in the world. 

You watch the television, your head falling against his shoulder. He leans towards you so you’re more comfortable, his hand ending up on your leg - above the comforter. With him next to you, the both of you bundled up in hoodies, you feel much less cold. Neither of you talk. Neither of you move, either. You just breathe and let the sound of the television lull you to sleep. 

Except you do not want to sleep. Except you like Minho’s warmth a little bit too much, except he smells so much like himself you feel like drowning in delight. Except you desperately want to slide your fingers in between his, except you want to push your legs against his, except you wonder how his neck would feel under your lips. You have to admit it - you want him. 

You have for a while. It started even before all of this - random thoughts crossing your mind about kissing your best friend, about letting him treat you right like he always said guys should do. When he took your hand and ran away with you, your mind was too occupied with the mess to think about him like that, but now that the adrenaline is dying down, that this odd routine is settling him, you find yourself thinking about it again. Minho. Your best friend. Your everything. 

Your heart aches when you think about what he did for you.

What he still does every day for you.

How he smiles at you, how he looks at you. 

For now you just enjoy the moment of quiet, letting your body relax, your thoughts wander off. You are sure you are going to fall asleep right there when a noise attracts your attention. You frown, trying to listen more attentively. It’s coming from the room next to yours - thumps on the wall, voices talking. 

It quickly becomes obvious what is going on. The thumping becomes regular, and the voices turn into moans. It’s not too loud, but you can still hear it above the television. You feel yourself blush, wondering if Minho is hearing it too. You’re torn between laughing and pretending like you’re not hearing it. But as the moans grow louder, and the banging of what sounds like a headboard against the wall fastening, you can’t pretend. 

Minho is the first to laugh. You snort, the both of you falling into giggles. 

“Someone is having fun,” he says. 

“Clearly, yeah,” you laugh. 

Minho raises the volume of the television a little bit, and it muffles the sound, but you can still hear it well. You try to ignore it, but a part of you can’t help but listen. It really does sound like they are having fun. The girl is vocal, and from what you can hear, the guy is too, telling her things you can’t quite make out. She’s moaning a lot. 

You try really hard not to be turned on by the sounds, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while - but there is something so lewd about just sitting there while other people are having sex next door. The girl’s moans are full of pleasure, and from the rhythm of the thumping, the guy is pounding into her at a fast pace.

You breathe out slowly, suddenly feeling very warm next to Minho. With a quick glance you confirm he is still staring at the television, looking entranced by what is happening on the screen. Either he doesn’t care about what he’s hearing or he’s good at ignoring it. 

The hand he has on your leg has gone very still. 

You bite your lip hard, trying to resist the urge to push your thighs together. You can feel yourself getting wet at the sounds, your imagination running wild. What position are they in? Are they lovers, or is it just a hook-up? You can’t help but think of being in her place, hands pinned to the mattress, a cock buried deep inside you, Minho breathing in your neck…

You snap back to reality. Minho? No, no. You can’t think about him that way, not now, not when he’s lying next to you in bed, warm and soft. 

Miraculously you are able to keep yourself in check. Only a few minutes later, the woman cries out particularly loud and then everything goes silent. You guess they are done - either they are going to sleep or they are leaving. Either way, you can finally breathe again, and it looks like Minho is relieved too. 

“I think I’m going to sleep,” you tell him in a low voice. “You can keep watching tv if you want, I don’t mind.” 

“I’m exhausted, too, don’t worry,” Minho smiles, looking at you. His cheeks are a little red, you notice. “I’ll just run to the bathroom and join you.” 

You nod, replacing the pillows on the mattress as he closes the television and disappears in the small bathroom. You hear the tap water, so you guess he’s brushing his teeth - you settle comfortably under the sheets, closing your eyes. You’re so tired, your body sore, your mind heavy, surely sleep will come easily. 

Except it doesn’t - because all you can think about are those sounds. 

Instinctively your hand reaches between your legs, finding their way inside your leggings to your underwear. You push two fingers against your aching core. The fabric of your panties is a little wet, and you guess that if you were to touch yourself underneath, you’d find your folds soaked. The pressure feels too good, so you keep it there for a few seconds, a soft sigh escaping your lips. 

Those moans. Those sighs. What if someone loved you like that? Made you feel good like that? Lips against your skin, maybe a mouth against your cunt, a tongue sucking in your clit, your fingers tugging at Minho’s hair… 

Fuck! 

You nearly cum at the thought, but at the same time the bathroom door opens and Minho comes back towards the bed. You remove your hand from between your legs, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Fortunately it is dark enough for him not to see you, and he slides back into his spot next to yours. The mattress shifts under his weight, but you do not move, your head buried on the pillow. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Goodnight, Min.” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. You can’t find sleep, unable to toss and turn in the bed because you are scared to wake up Minho. At some point you find yourself drifting off, but you startle back awake. 

The moans have started again. 

Clearly the pair next door has not left, because they are back at it. You let out an audible sigh and Minho, next to you, laughs a little. 

“I guess we’re not sleeping,” he says. 

“I guess not.” 

You both lay down, facing the ceiling. The moans aren’t too loud for now, but you can imagine it’s only a matter of time before they get as intense as earlier. 

“You remember my ex, the law student?” Minho asks, all of a sudden. 

You frown, turning your head towards him. “Yeah, why?” 

“She was so loud, too,” he tells you. “Even worse than that.” 

Surprise flashes in your eyes but you can’t help chuckle. “Really?” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess when I told her I like it when my partners are vocal, she took it to heart. But like, way too much. And it sounded so fake.” 

You are glad that the room is plunged in darkness because you can feel your cheeks heat up. You and Minho have talked about sex before - you’ve even shared intimate details, but for some reason it feels different now. Maybe because minutes before you were touching yourself to the thought of him.

“Wow,” you laugh. “That’s like the opposite of my ex. He didn’t make any sound and he didn’t like it when I did…” 

Minho sighs. “What a dick, honestly.” 

“I got used to it,” you shrug. 

“He never treated you right,” Minho insists. “You have such a pretty voice, too. I’d never tell you not to make noise.” 

You feel your chest tightening, your mouth going dry. Now that your eyes are adjusted to the darkness you can see Minho pretty well, and now he’s looking flustered, blinking rapidly. 

“I - I mean… L-like I said, I just…” 

“Minho,” you whisper, interrupting him.

Your heart is beating so fast you feel like you’ll be sick, but you can’t hold it back. Especially not with the moans coming from the other room, with the warmth between your legs, with what he has just told you. I’d never tell you not to make noise. You just need to know. You need to know. 

Maybe the dark is giving you courage. Maybe it’s everything Minho does for you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes shine, so close to yours.

“Why did you come with me?” you finally ask, your voice just a whisper. 

He blinks, looking at you with wide, deep eyes. “I…” 

For a second you think he will say the same thing he always does. A part of you wants to hear it again, because you could never get tired of it, and because you know it is true - but another part of you wants to hear something else. You don’t even know if it’s possible. If it’s something he feels. But you have to try. You have to know. 

Minho takes a deep breath. “Because I love you.” 

You feel like bursting into tears because it’s all you ever wanted to hear. You grasp at the covers, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. 

“Please tell me you feel the same,” Minho adds, hopefully, desperately. 

“I love you,” you breathe out. “Of course I love you.” 

And it’s the simplest thing. Minho reaches for you as you reach for him, your lips meeting halfway, bodies tumbling in a sweet embrace. He pulls you close, holding you in his arms, his kiss feverish, desperate, relieved, hungry. His lips dance with yours, one of his hands  holding your head. You wrap your arms around him, not wasting a second to close the distance between your bodies. His chest is firm, and as your hips meet his, you realize he’s a little hard, just like you’re wet. 

The moans continue in the next room but you barely notice them. All you can hear is the sound of Minho’s breathing, his mouth on yours. You sigh as he pulls up one of your legs over his pelvis, making you straddle him. You lay down over him, not an inch between your bodies, your lips still meeting. He kisses you firmly and deeply, his hands all over your body, feeling your waist, your legs, your ass. You remove his t-shirt. You arch your back. 

“I love you, Minho,” you keep repeating. 

“I love you,” he answers every time. 

He pushes his tongue on your lips so you open your mouth to let him in. It’s wet and warm and it sends your mind reeling. You feel drunk, you feel dizzy, and Minho kisses you so well it’s like the rest of the world fades. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re everything to me… Everything I want.” 

“Minho,” you sigh. “Put your hands on me, please.” 

He nods, kissing you again, his hands discovering your body. He takes one of your tits in his hand, massaging it slowly, and you roll your hips against him. He’s getting harder, his cock almost flush with your wetness, and you feel your walls throb with the craving of him. You moan against his touch, and he rolls you on your back again, towering over you. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, looking you in the eyes. 

“Hm?” 

“Please make all the noise you want,” he says. 

You smile, playing with his hair. “I promise, as long as you do, too.” 

With a grin he leans down to kiss you again, removing your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, so he goes down to kiss your tits, swirling your tongue around your hard nipples, making you moan. Minho hums appreciatively.

“You sound so lovely,” he says. “I could never not want to hear you…” 

“Keep talking to me,” you tell him, your fingers in his air as he plays with your breasts, kissing them, licking them, teasing them. “Please keep telling me things.” 

“I promise, my angel. I promise.” 

Minho trails his tongue down your stomach, pushing your sweatpants down, leaving you in just your underwear. He looks down at you, placing two fingers against your clit, above the fabric. He starts to draw soft circles, making you shiver. 

“F-fuck, Minho…” 

“You’re so wet, angel. Is it because of our neighbors?” 

You bite your lip. “A little,” you say, although it’s hard to speak as Minho keeps stroking your wetness. “But also - also… You…”

“Me?” he asks, finally pulling down your panties to reveal your slicked folds. 

“I could only t-think of you… Hearing them…” 

“You imagined it was me making you moan like that? Fucking you deep into the motel bed? Is that what you would like, my angel?” 

You nod, Minho’s breath feeling warm against your cunt, his agile fingers exploring your folds. He spreads your legs, holding your legs apart. “Y-yes…” 

“I’ll do my best,” he smiles. “I just want to spend some time down here before I fuck you… I’ve wanted to treat you right for so long… I want to make you cum, is that all right?” 

As he asks, he pushes two fingers inside of you, and you let out a shuddering moan. 

“Tell me,” he says softly.

“Y-yes, Minho, please! Make me cum!” 

“Fuck, just hearing you say that, I could cum on the spot.” 

But he doesn’t - instead he leans into you, his mouth covering your wetness. His tongue swirls around your clit, collecting your slick, and you can’t help but moan uncontrollably. He makes you feel so good, so loved. His lips kissing you, his tongue everywhere, pushing and teasing. He moves his fingers inside of you at the same time, curving them into your sweet spots, and you grasp at the sheets, lost in your pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes, keep moaning for me, angel,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back.” 

You couldn’t if you wanted to - Minho is too good at what he does, like he already knows everything that makes you go crazy. His rhythm accelerates, then slows down, his mouth deliciously eating your cunt. You can’t think anymore, one of your hands is lost in his soft hair. Your moans accompany the ones from next door, combined with the wet sounds of Minho’s tongue and fingers around your drenched pussy. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out. “Minho, I’m…” 

He doesn’t say anything, just accelerates exactly what he was doing, and your orgasm flashes through you. Minho keeps licking your cunt until you stop shaking, and then slowly makes his way up your body, placing wet kisses on your skin. You don’t think you’ve ever moaned this loud in your life, and as you start to come down your high, you feel a little embarrassed. 

When he kisses your lips, tasting of you, you open your eyes. Even in the dark you can see that his mouth is a little swollen, still wet with your juices. 

“S-sorry…” you whimper. 

He frowns, stroking your hair. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Was I too loud?” 

He smiles, cupping your cheeks. “You could never be too loud. I just hope it was good for you.” 

“Are you kidding?” you chuckle. “That was the best orgasm of my life.” 

Minho laughs, and your heart swells at the sight of his teeth, the shape of his eyes. He is so beautiful. And he loves you. With a sudden surge of love you bounce upwards, kissing him deeply, and you want to touch him everywhere. Minho lets your hands roam over his body, and you quickly reach his boxers, where you find his hard cock. You palm it over the fabric and it twitches a little. Minho grunts. 

“You still want this?” he asks. 

You nod. “I want you. All of you.” 

He answers with a kiss, and helps you get rid of his boxers, his cock springing free. You stroke with one hand, the other pushing him down the bed. 

“Want to taste you, too,” you say, and you feel his breath shudder inside your mouth. 

Kneeling next to him, you kiss his stomach, his hips, his thighs - admiring at the same time the firm muscles of his body. Minho gathers your hair in his hand, holding it back from your face, breathing hard. 

You take his cock in your hand, kissing the tip, and you hear him grunt. You’re glad he doesn’t hold back making noise, just like he promised. You glance at him as you wrap your lips around his cock, slowly. Minho looks back at you, his eyes glassy, his mouth parted. You keep your eyes on each other as you go down his cock, taking all you can of him, and when you almost reach down he throws his head backwards in pleasure. 

“F-fuck, Y/N!” he growls. “You’re taking me whole… S-such a warm mouth…” 

You hum around his cock, starting to bob your head up and down, sucking him. Your tongue works too, teasing and licking him. Minho moans, the sound filling the room and your heart, and it’s so alluring you have to press two fingers against your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” Minho breathes. “Don’t stop, take it deeper… Just a little more - fuck, yes! Right there.” 

He thrusts his hips a little as you keep sucking him. He feels big in your mouth, and you know your lips will be sore, but you don’t care. Making him feel this good is intoxicating, and you don’t want to stop. 

“My angel,” he moans. “Looking so pretty with my cock around her lips…” 

He keeps whispering things, and you can’t help but moan alongside him, touching yourself at the same time. You could cum like this again, with Minho’s cock between your lips, his fingers pulling your hair softly. But after another minute, he strokes your cheek. 

“Come back to me, angel,” he whispers. “I don’t want to cum like this.” 

You are eager for his lips again so you do not insist, and Minho wraps you into an embrace, kissing you softly. He is warm, so warm - your bodies are a little sweaty, eager for each other. 

When he stops, you frown. “Is everything all right?” 

“They stopped,” he says, and you realize he is right. 

The room next door has gone silent again. You chuckle, but at the moment, you don’t really care. Neither does Minho, because he shrugs and kisses you again. He lays you down on the mattress again, holding your legs apart, his cock teasing your entrance. 

“I don’t have -” he looks at you.

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I don’t mind. I want you to fuck me like that.” 

He growls, leaning into your ear. The tip of his cock enters your hole, but he doesn’t go further, just feeling it there. You whimper for more, but Minho is busy kissing your neck and your ear. 

“I love hearing you say lewd stuff like that,” he chuckles. “It’s really hot.” 

“I like hearing you say it too,” you admit, kissing his shoulder. “Tell me something… Something you never thought you would say aloud.” 

A flash appears in his eyes, and he smiles. He kisses you, and whispers it against your lips. 

“I want to fuck you raw and mark you as mine,” he breathes. “Fill your sweet cunt with my cum and fuck it again, deep inside of you. Claim you. Keep you with me forever.” 

Your cunt tightens so much at the words you are sure Minho will feel it - and from the way his hips thrust forward, he might have. 

“I’m yours,” you whisper. “I’m yours, yours, yours.” 

Minho pushes deeper inside of you with every word until he bottoms out, stretching you, filling you. You moan his name again and again as he starts to fuck you, his hips gently meeting yours at first, letting you get used to him. 

“Mine,” he repeats. “Mine, as much as I’m yours.” 

You nod as his movements start getting sharper, slamming into you, his cock reaching deep inside of you. You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt around his dick and it makes you dizzy. 

“Tell me I’m yours,” Minho breathes, pumping his cock into you. 

“You’re mine,” you say, digging your fingers into his back. Your nails mark him, and they must hurt him, but Minho only moans louder. “Mine, mine.” 

He fucks you into the mattress, his hands holding your waist, your legs spread apart for him. After some time he lifts your ass a little, holding your legs up around him, and with this angle he reaches even deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

You moan with him, your voices and breathing mixing together. You are so close to cumming, clenching his cock hard, coating it with your juices. 

“Minho, fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out. 

Your climax rushes through you. Minho follows a second after, pushing as deep inside of you as he can. You can feel the warm spurts of white cum filling you, his cock throbbing, and when he is done he keeps fucking you for a minute. 

“My angel… mine,” he whispers. 

When both of your bodies start to untense, Minho removes himself from you, stroking your cunt with his fingers. He gathers some of your juices mixed with his cum, and brings it to your lips. You stare up at him and lick his fingers clean. He stares at you with a soft smile, tenderness spilling out of his eyes. 

He falls back on the mattress next to you, as spent as you are. 

“That was the hottest sex of my life,” he breathes. 

“Me too,” you chuckle, turning just to wrap an arm around his chest. 

He plays with your hair, kisses the top of your hair. “You know I meant it, right?” 

“What?” 

“Everything I said. I love you so much, Y/N.” 

You look up at him, feeling your heart swell in your chest. “I know. Me too, Min. I love you. You’re mine. I want to stay with you forever.” 

He smiles. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” 

You stay like that for a minute, just breathing, until Minho squeezes your hand, helping you up on your feet. He wants to help you clean up and feel good before you go to sleep. Holding your hand, he guides you towards the bathroom. Only then do you realize something and laugh.

“If we could hear them so well… Do you think our neighbors heard us?” 

Minho laughs. “Definitely.” 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

this was much longer than I thought it would be... but there it is! I had so much fun writing this I hope you will like it! please share your thoughts with me if you want ♡ reblogs and feedback is much appreciated!! ♡

↻ taglist: @lix-ables (just write if you want to be added!)

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hi, hello! absolutely love your work, and wanted to request a scenario for sve i’ve been thinking about for a bit now. It’s sort of complicated and long, so i understand if not, but thank you for reading in the first place! :3 ♡

how would the sve adventurers with marlon, and mages with camilla, jadu, & magnus react to a farmer who is an actively wanted fugitive in the gotoro empire, and also wanted by the ferngill republic for crimes committed against figures in both governments? and when revealed why exactly they did these things, it’s because they were killing them due to said figures being corrupt and harming the people? perhaps even going as far as to get rid of any wizards or witches in the ferngill republic ministry of magic who do it solely for the fame or adventures in various guilds in the order of the knights of pythagoras who are in it for the money and not to protect people? how would they react to this farmer, who’s been right under their watch the whole time, actually turn out to be someone they’ve been trying to capture for years, and completely evading them? i’d imagine even more angst if they had already formed complex relationships and friendships with everyone, only to be a wanted criminal, despite their inherently good intentions.

Headcanon when people who had good motives to protect the world killed other people who were corrupted and bad by their standards?*looking in the direction of the Cult of The Lady With The Red Tail from RSV mod* Yeah, I've heard something about that...

I recommend that you, dear anon, familiarise yourself with the Ridgeside Village mod, because there are at least two marriage candidates out there who live in the same scenario. But anyway, thank you very much for your kind words 🥺 Enjoy some headcanons and have a great day! 💕

_________________________________________

Isaac knew there was something fishy about Farmer! His own gut was screaming that something was wrong with them, and, oh look, he was absolutely right. The very same promising young adventurer, whom almost everyone praised to the skies (and even Isaac himself almost fell into this trap, accepting the offer of friendship), turned out to be a rotten through and through criminal. Killing corrupt people? That's just fucking wonderful, how honorable they are! Isaac wonders who gave Farmer the right to decide the fate of people? Who gave them the right to be judge and executioner? Corrupt adventurers and mages are scumbags who deserve to be punished. But Farmer is no better than them. So Isaac will drag them to the justice, and use force if he has to.

Magnus now doesn't know what's worse: the fact that Farmer he trusted turned out to be a criminal wanted by the Ministry of Magic, or the fact that almost half of his friends and colleagues (some already killed) turned out to be criminals too. And criminals not of the level of "stole 10000g" from the budget, but responsible for some disasters caused by magic that contributed to hundreds of innocent lives. Does he believe Farmer? Of course he believes him, since the wizard managed to put the seal of truth on them. Which, however, doesn't mean Magnus agrees with their path of vigilant. And so when they both decide to deal with the remaining corrupt adventurers, Farmer will also have to recognize their responsibility for killing others. And no, they can't refuse. Because Magnus has managed to put another seal on them...

Camilla only smirked after Farmer's admission. "I know all that, dear. Otherwise you'd have been rotting behind bars in a dungeon long ago." Instead of trying to explain to the main witch of the Galdora Continent about how Farmer had managed to become a wanted man in the Gotoro Empire/Ferngill Republic, they have to listen to details from Camilla that even they didn't know. Turns out she's been covering them. All the time. Why? Because she is well aware of all the secrets of some of her "colleagues" who never got a deserved punishment. Farmer was the first to confront them openly, even at the cost of their reputation. So Camilla felt it was her duty to help them cleanse all "pests". Oh, and she strongly advises them not to tell anyone about what the two of them have just talked about.

Alesia didn't even realise how she'd pointed the bowstring at the Farmer. All this time the man who was killing adventurers was right under her nose.... The sniper didn't take Isaac's warning too seriously... She may not have the same keen sense for criminals like her friend, but Alesia's eagle eyes and skilful hands would definitely keep her from missing if they try to escape. Maybe Farmer's telling the truth. Either way, they're both going to go deal with Camilla, she's sure to get the truth out. In the meantime. Alesia advises Farmer not to make any sudden moves. Unless they want an arrow in the head. So far all the facts are against Farmer: their word vs. entire murder reports of high profile adventurers...

Jadu is at a complete loss. On the one hand, common sense tells him that the man before him is a dangerous criminal who has broken the laws not only in the Republic, but also in the Gotoro Empire, which is at war with it. Not a word of such a person can be trusted. On the other hand, all the adventurers, witches and wizards who had fallen by the Farmer's hand had indeed had rumours of venality and even involvement in dark deeds. But they were just rumours! What if the Farmer had made a mistake, and destroyed a completely innocent man, framed by someone else? That never occurred to them?! Jadu must get them to the Ministry because he doesn't believe a word they say. And don't underestimate him, he is after all, a battle mage as good as any.

Well... That explains a lot to Lance. And there's no need for Farmer to look at him so surprised. After all, the gallant adventurer is not lacking in intelligence and is a very shrewd man. Lance was conducting his own, if you will, investigation, but he did it as carefully and from a distance as possible, so as not to cross the wrong person. Because there were inconsistencies in official statements about past tragedies in Castle Village. Then came the murders of suspicious members of the Order of the Knights of Pythagoras, all the blame was on "criminal №1" (Farmer, as it turned out), and then.... Hmm, yes, now that makes sense. Lance will get Farmer to Camilla, let them tell her everything, and wait to see what others say at the general court. "They were criminals, Farmer. But you too need to answer for your crimes. Murder is no way to solve problems."

Marlon outwardly may seem to have reacted very calmly to the truth, but inside the one-eyed adventurer a storm of emotions raged. His apprentice, a new member of the Adventurer's Guild, is the very same wanted killer of monster hunters from other guilds and clans. His murdered colleagues, according to Farmer's words, were not noble protectors of human race, but cowards and corrupt bastards. But is that true? Should Farmer be believed at all? What should Marlon even believe now? He's angry, but quickly calms down so he doesn't accidentally make any hasty decisions in a fit of rage. "You're in deep shit, kid." That was all Marlon could say. Better get Gil and Magnus to solve this problem with Farmer.

[thesofthuman]

I just want to die

since you've sent this to me i hope that means you want me to answer. i want to begin by saying how empathetic i am towards you and how i'm sorry this is what you're feeling. i was there too, years ago now, and i'm glad it wasn't something i gave into. being a person can be really hard. really, really hard. some people don't get it. they can function like it's no weight. but for others it can feel so heavy. what i can tell you is that feelings pass, and thoughts pass, and we can learn how to reinvent them and have new ones that eventually feel like the only ones we currently know. now i can't tell you what to feel or how you feel it, but i can tell you what i felt. something that clicked for me when i felt this way was maybe that i didn't fully want to die, that i didn't fully want to leave everything in my life. i loved aspects of my life, i just felt so deep in my darkness that these things seemed out of touch, they couldn't reach me and i couldn't reach them. i couldn't feel any of the things that mattered to me. and what hurt, what felt impossible, became a weight strapped to my legs. everywhere i went it followed. i'm not saying this to be cliche, only because it is the truth. what i found was that i wanted to kill off parts of myself, parts of my life, parts of the past that haunted me. i wanted a new life. i wanted something to love me back. so i killed off what i needed to. i dove all the way in to a different way of being, as much as i could. i mourned. i felt what i needed to feel. i got help. i talked to someone, i wrote in my journal, i made it a serious commitment that my life depended on to LOVE something every day. to SEE something in the world that i had been blind to before. it took all of me to do it, and it saved me. i kept note of what i saw in a little journal. i still do this today. i put myself in the world and i let the heavy wall get knocked down bit by bit. i committed to it more than i've ever committed to loving someone, or hating myself, or staying in my room. yes, the heaviness carved away at me, but it left room to fill up. so i filled it up. it wasn't a quick fix, but it was real and it worked and i'm telling you this because i'm still here to tell you this. i killed off what i needed to. i moved, i went to a new school, i left the school, i made new friends, i let go of attachments, i stopped asking for what couldn't be given elsewhere and looked within. of course some parts still stay, and we learn to soften the edges of them. and life becomes beautiful again. the beauty, the meaning, the joy, the feeling creeps in slowly like sunlight under a door. hang on for that. hang on because there are a million lives to try on and live and you can start tomorrow, you can start at 3am, you can start as soon as you read this message. the heart of life is always there and you can touch it again. i wrote a list a long time ago here of all of the little reasons to stay alive, and since then in my mind i've added 1,000,000 new things. if i can find it i will reblog it for you. i care for you, i care about you staying in this world and living a big love-filled life that you deserve, no matter what has happened in the past. kill off the past and have something new. it saved me, it can save you.

[hihelloheyhowdy]

They Don't Know About the "I Love You"s (Nagi x reader)

In which pro athlete!Nagi is discovered to be in a relationship with you, and refuses to deny it.

Nagi's publicist always told him what to do, who to talk to, and how to act. He felt like aside from constantly having to keep up with his 'genius' soccer plays, he also had to keep an act that'll allow him his career.

Football had become one of the very few things that brought him passion, and the ability to make a more than steady income from something he enjoyed. However he found himself hating being in the spot light.

One thing that he looked forward to was coming home to you at the end of the day, and sitting there as you ran your hand through his hair whispering a 'you did good today' or 'I'm proud of you'. It was moments like those where he felt himself keeping pushing forward despite becoming tired of it all.

When Reo's on his ass about practice, when everyone is complaining about how his goals were no longer as 'genius' as they should be, when the crowd seems to find him not entertaining enough, it all fades to nothing in your presence.

Because you're the only one who never wants anything from Nagi. All you've ever asked for in exchange for all your understanding and affection, is that in return. The most beautiful part about it, is that loving you came easy to Nagi.

He was willing to put in 'work', but he rarely felt that it made him tired. In fact every moment spent with you feels like tons of weights have been lifted off of him. You know Nagi, and you've seen him at his worst yet you still found it in you to love him.

So he couldn't stand there, and let you simply take the pressure that the public suddenly threw at you. An article came out of the two of you on a picnic date in the park. It was titled 'Star Footballer Nagi Seishiro Not As Single As He Lets On?"

It sickened him to his stomach when he saw people saying that you weren't 'attractive enough', or seemed to not be 'good enough' to be dating him according to their standards.

It couldn't be further from the truth. In Nagi's eyes you were gorgeous, and if anything he didn't deserve you. Always putting up with him when he was unmotivated, or snapped at you for no reason at all.

When you'd seen the article didn't think anything of it, but people quickly were able to identify you. Millions of dms and commented flooded in, and not all of them were sweet. You tried to ignore them, but with so many it was hard until you went on private.

The next morning you'd woken to having been tagged in a post made by Nagi last night a million times. It was a photo from that picnic date, one where he was kissing your cheek. There was a caption under it, and it read 'more than perfect for me, i love you'.

You felt your heart swell as you smiled as you looked down to the Nagi sleeping soundly next to you. You ran a hand softly through his hair as he seemed to lean into your touch. You whisper out a small 'I love you' into the air, even though he couldn't hear.

[sthormiiii]

AARAVOS HEADCANONS !! <3

General headcanons/fluff:

- hes sooo bad at board/card games but he manages to hides it because he CHEATS at everything and ends up winning anyways ( if hes playing with children he lets them win tho )

- prefers long baths over showers

- hes a good listener and mentally keeps track or very small informations regarding people he likes

- used to keep butterflies and other bugs in his study/home/wherever he lived and kept track on how they changed over time ( he always insisted they weren't his pets, just research subjects but we all know the truth )

-first time a human gifted him some kind of jewellery he put it in his horns

- humans used to take care of his hair all the time (brushed it, braided it), a human accidentally cut his hair too short once and he absolutely hated it, never cut his hair again.

- doesn't know what personal space is

- prefers tea over coffee

- it takes him HOURS to brush his hair

- he read all the books in his prison many many times, eventually he got bored of them and started to write poems to pass the time

- knows random facts about anything and says them out of nowhere

- not a morning person, loves the sunrise but is v sleep in the morning

- likes to eat sweets <3

- hes actually very interested in callum connecting to a arcanum

- his horns used to get stuck in trees all the time (since hes very tall)

- his prison is cold af, thats why he has that cape

- he finds many things that humans do to be silly and useless, but would still try them just because

- would like romance books, would never admit it

- likes to paint

- doesn't know how to cook AT ALL, humans used to gift him food so he never even tried

- his favourite spots in xadia were high cliffs and ancient ruins

- would love to learn more about how much human culture has changed over the years

- used to love listening to humans play instruments for him

- he knows many languages

- his star freckles shine more at night

- doesn't know how to act around children

- hes soo a cat person!! he likes cats a LOT, and gets exicted when he sees one! too bad cats don't like him (he is so tall and scary) sooo, he often gets scratched.

Angst headcanons:

- he spent the first 100 or so years in his prison crying/being miserable and hating himself for making mistakes.

- eventually sadness turned into anger, and hatred towards dragons and elves

- misses the feeling of grass under his feet, would love to lie on it and watch the sky. tried to lie in his prison's floor, ended up crying

- seeing ziard's staff again made him sad (+ loves that claudia decorated it a bit)

- he never visited the ruins of elarion again, it was too painful for him

- tried to burn himself with the candles in his prison just to feel something <3

- he is so so touch starved.

-startouch elves don't really need to sleep, so he didn't really do it often when he was free, since he wanted to experience as much as he could! now tho, he sleeps a lot in his prison just to make time pass faster.

- he has lots of nightmares.

i love him sm you don't get it. he is just a silly guy, he doesn't deserve all of this !!!!

[taetaespeaks]

The Wife / THV part.4

genre : yandere taehyung, failing marriage, mean and cruel protagonists

summery : you five were the nightmares of teachers back in high school, now adults, your cruel and violent temperament doesn’t seem to have change neither does have the obsession taehyung has for you.

warnings : mean protagonists!!!!, smut, s3xual descriptions, strong language, violence, cruelty from the protagonists themselves. here we have an evil y/n. read at your own risk ! this story is hard and violent do not read if you’re sensitive to those topics.

rate : +18 only minors do not interact

<- masterlist ->

Your nights were getting harder and sleepless. It had been a month since the Jeon family scandal broke. Several women had testified against father Jeon and several employees of Kim Company had spoken on the networks and in court about the violence Mr. Jeon had used against them.

You didn't think Taehyung was capable of this and a few days after the euphoria of learning that your plan had worked perfectly, anxiety took its place.

You had always been confident in yourself and your decisions but a new unpleasant feeling met you. Guilt. Jungkook had never been a very good husband, cheating on you, not talking to you for months on end to put his work ahead of you, and then he had never even spoke to you about having children, preferring his secretaries, but when you heard him crying through his locked office door, your heart began to squeeze strangely and this feeling was more than unpleasant. So you avoided him like the plague, thinking you were the least of his worries anyway. He was already thinking of selling the house, and this fact alone was enough to convince your mother to offer you to come back and live with her "until things calm down", in other words, "until you find a new husband". When Jeongguk heard the news, he saw red, understanding as well as you did what this proposal meant, he risked losing his father, his company, his respect, his fortune and his marriage, because of Taehyung.

However, it had also been a month since you had heard from the said Taehyung. What you wanted was to be remarried to him in the first place but without his presence, he made the process more than complicated. You were already imagining yourself as an old maid, a victim of your own actions, finding only a little happiness in the idea that you had allowed abused employees to tell the truth even though you honestly didn't care and you didn't even know if it was true under the circumstances.

Your sleep was filled with nightmares of you, old and unhappy, but one in particular tormented you. You were running faster than you could run, blood on your hands, screaming for help. Taehyung was on your tail.

"Y/n?" Your eyes snapped open almost immediately as you leapt up, looking around and finding Jeongguk sitting to your right at the edge of your bed. If his eyes often took on a mocking look, this time his frowns indicated a state of genuine concern. His almost purple dark circles gave you the shivers as you watched the young man. Panic swept over you as images of your younger selves resurfaced, compounding your state of guilt.

"What are you doing in my room? You should be sleeping."

"I'm fine." He lied, lowering his head slowly. "So hee told me you were having nightmares."

The little bitch had had plenty of time to get you in trouble before being fired for lack of means on your part.

"Don't believe her, she likes to open her mouth too much." With a brisk movement, you came to sit beside him at the edge of the bed. With his hands clasped together, Jeongguk was looking at the floor, his eyes almost closed. You looked away.

You loved Jeongguk but he deserved what he got, you told yourself, even though you weren't sure. You never felt sorry for anything, you never felt sorry for the people you crushed under your cruelty, so why was your heart hurting for him? Was it really wrong? No. You had to do what you had to do to get the life you deserved, you would never again accept anything other than what you wanted.

"Is your mom coming to get you tomorrow?" He asked almost shyly.

"Yes."

A silence.

"I'm sorry, y/n." You closed your eyes, letting him speak. "I know deep down you're not a bitch, well no, I mean, you know, a bad person, well yes, in fact, you're a bad person." You chuckled, and he laughed in response. "But you've always been a good wife. I know when we first got married you did everything for us and all I did was cheat on you and lie to you so I'm sorry. I know you wanted children and a house in the woods to watch them grow up. You wanted dogs and to get your mother's old cat back to give her a peaceful retirement in the country." How could Jeongguk remember that? "I'm sorry I didn't give you the life you wanted but that's just the way I am. My life is my life and I don't adapt it to anyone, I know you're the same and it was only a matter of time before you left." Even with your eyes closed, you felt Jeongguk lift his head to look at you. "Have you found someone else yet?"

You said nothing for a moment, not knowing the answer. "No."

"Well, the next man you get I hope he's as much of an asshole as you are." You laughed at the unison before your laughter choked in your throat at the feeling of Jeongguk's hand on yours. He held your smaller one in his gently for a few more minutes, you didn't know he was capable of softness. You abruptly opened your eyes to observe the strange sight of your linked hands. "And I hope you're happy. I know you're not happy, you've never been, but your dream house in the woods in the countryside could surely change you. I really hope so. Plus, we’re staying friends, right ?” Your heart ached again as in front of you, instead of your husband of six years, seemed to stand the sixteen year old Jeongguk who after fighting to steal a cake from a kid on the street had given it to you because he remembered it was your birthday. "Happy birthday, y/n. Love ya'."

•

You had surprised yourself by having more trouble packing than you had imagined, but blaming it on your lack of familiarity with manual tasks, you had redeemed the idea of not wanting to leave.

Jeongguk helped you put your bags in the trunk of the cab your mother had sent you, complaining bitterly about having to pay for it, and even though you and Jeongguk didn't exchange a word, the atmosphere was tense and heavy. That is until a surprise guest arrived.

A black BMW roared onto the property, the sun painting its perfect body with a golden glow. You and Jeongguk watched the stranger with hostility, one beside the other, as if ready to run away in case of danger, eyes wide open like two rabbits caught in headlights at night. The said car stopped next to the driver's car in front of you and your breath caught as you made out the people inside.

Taehyung, Jimin...

"Jimin?"

The young man leapt out of the car and ran towards you with his arms wide open, almost falling on the white gravel of the entrance.

"Y/N!!!" He slammed into you, causing you to take a few steps back in shock as you wrapped your own arms around him. The feeling of safety instantly eased your anxiety as Jimin rocked you back and forth in a comforting embrace that you enjoyed.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, had not moved, not paying any attention to Jimin's return, his attention was fixed on the driver who was now standing at the left of his car. Taehyung, more handsome than ever, in a very expensive suit, was watching the scene with a tight smile, leaning against the fender of the BMW.

Finally, Jimin's embrace tightened gently one last time. "You're beautiful." He whispered before letting you go turning to Jeongguk who hadn't moved. "Dude, you've doubled in muscle, what are you eating, man ?” Jeongguk’s only response was a murderous look to the young man. “Damn, okay. I complimented you and everything but okay i guess.”

"What the hell are you doing here?" Even though he included Jimin in his sharp question, you knew he was only addressing Taehyung. The young man who was bluntly watching you slowly turned his gaze to Jeongguk and then to his clenched fists as he approached him with an anger that was rare for him.

"If I were you, I wouldn't do that." Jeongguk stopped short, looking with shock at the young man who had once been one of his best friends. "Don't get daddy into more trouble." The blow came without delay, pushing Taehyung backwards and splitting his lip slightly. You and Jimin flinched as he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in a light attempt at protection.

"Shut the fuck up, Kim. What do you want?"

"I'm coming to get y/n." Replied the brunette, wiping the blood running down his chin with a backhand.

"Why?"

"At her mother's house, she wouldn't be safe. Not knowing you know the address."

"What are you talking about, man?" Jeongguk turned to you in disbelief, questioning you with his eyes, but your dazed look spoke volumes.

"Your father has been accused of abusing his female companions. I will not leave y/n at the mercy of men like you two." You predict the second blow before it actually came. This time, Taehyung ended up on the ground, holding his nose and grunting as Jeongguk repeatedly kicked him in the ribs.

"You son of a bitch, I never laid a hand on my wife." One blow harder than the others. "Never! You always wanted her for yourself, didn't you? Is that why you do this?" Another blow.

Jimin grabbed Jeongguk from under his arms, hastily pulling him back from Taehyung, whose side had just made an ominous cracking sound. Hesitantly and almost tributing on your high heels, you approached Taehyung who was trying to stand up with difficulty.

"Are-are you okay?" Taehyung felt his heart quicken at your interest in him, so he smiled, with a dazed look that left you confused. You were soon his, and the pain didn't outweigh his initial joy at having you all to himself.

"y/n. You're not going with him." Jeongguk easily disengaged himself from Jimin, pushing him back. "You stay here." The order made you flinch.

"Don't decide for me, Gukkie."

"What? You want to go with this freak? Do you have any idea what he's really like? He's more dangerous than me." Jeongguk's voice cracked and you felt as if the air had suddenly turned colder as his weakened eyes filled with tears.

"Jeong-"

"You know what, just get out. And you two too. Fuck you." Shoving Jimin aside as he passed, he turned around to go back into the house, his cheeks wet and his fists clenched.

"Jeongguk!"

He didn't look back.

•

Taehyung's house was huge and cold, like a marble palace. There were guards at every door, and as soon as you arrived, one of them had been appointed as your bodyguard. Hoseok. A rather handsome man whose smile and relaxed air made you feel more like you were facing a friend than a man who was ready to save your life at any moment.

When the door of the room that was to become yours closed behind you, a strange feeling came over your body as Jimin accompanied Taehyung to the hospital for his ribs and nose. The room was huge, the cold marble under your feet sending icy shivers down your spine with every step, the thick black curtains hiding the daylight and a picture of you and Jimin posed on an oak dresser served as the first decoration.

Your mother was strangely docile to the idea of you being at Taehyung's house, not even complaining about the cab she had paid for and which had not been used in the end, she had made every effort to hang up as quickly as possible, as if made uncomfortable by the idea of talking to you.

Around 11 p.m., when the two men had returned, Taehyung had not come to see you, leaving you alone with Jimin. Sitting together at the window sill in silence, the room seemed even bigger and colder.

"I'm sorry." Why did everyone want to apologize right now, as if you were an angel fallen from heaven. Jimin knew better than anyone that you didn't deserve any apology. "I didn't know he was violent.”

Your words were lost in your throat as you looked at him dumbfounded. Violent? Sure, Jeongguk wasn't an angel any more than you were, but he never raised his hand to you, and your arguments were quite rare.

"I don't understand, Minnie."

"It's nothing. Just so you know, I really think I should have stayed maybe it would have been better for you this way."

"What are you talking about? You know Jeongguk. He would never do that to me."

"I don't know if I really know him, but I know you."

“Okay, and ?”

“I mean, you know sometimes I do want to kick you in the face with my bare foot but what makes me a good person is the fact that I don’t act on that impulse, right ?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even though I really want to sometimes, you know-“

“Yeah, I got it. I understand, I tried to bury you alive that on time we went at the beach, remember?”

“Okay but you said you didn’t attend to kill me!”

“I lied.”

“Oh my god and you think you know people.”

You remained silent, though smiling softly as a humorless laugh echoed from the doorway. Taehyung stood there, dressed simply in a white teeshirt and gray jogging pants. His dog, Yeontan under his arm. Your heart clenched once again in front of Taehyung but this time it was not unpleasant. A slight white bandage rested on the bridge of his nose and the corner of his lip had turned slightly purple but other than that, he looked perfectly fine.

"We were talking about-"

"Can you take Tan out? I'd like to talk to y/n." Jimin hesitated but complied without looking at you, leaving you once again puzzled. Jimin had always been more compliant than you, but never this compliant. Between him and your mother, you could not help but be confused. You only came back to reality when the door slammed leaving you alone with Taehyung.

"What did you tell them?" You asked in a breath. He answered with a sigh as he sat down on "your bed" in front of you with a slight smirk on his face. He seemed delighted.

"I did what I had to do to get you out of there. That's what you asked me, right?" You didn't answer, you knew and he knew the answer. "Come on. Come on, y/n." He patted the spot to his right on the bed and you hesitantly joined him. As soon as you sat down, he turned to you with a big boxy smile. "I ordered Italian. I know you like it but if you want to eat something else, just tell me." You remained silent ignoring the smile that was slowly disappearing from Taehyung's face. "Why do you always have to make everything harder than it is." He stood up abruptly to stand in front of you making you jump. "Since when do you feel sorry for people?"

"Jeongguk is my friend."

"Not anymore."

"Of course he still is."

Suddenly Taehyung seemed to change his expression, his face clouded over and his eyes shining with a paradoxically dark glow.

He moved closer to you so that he could push you against the bed as he stood over you, his palms on either side of your frightened face. He tilted his head slightly to the side like a curious little puppy before smiling again.

"I love you. Only I love you." You said nothing. The mask of the scornful duchess lying probably at your feet, you looked at your new husband-to-be with apprehension.

Taehyung lowered his head to come and stroke his nose against yours, closing his eyes with satisfaction as you did the same, your breathing suddenly quickening. "I love you." He repeated before crushing his lips against yours, the pain coming from the cut on his lips not rivaling the urge he had to touch you. He knew you loved him too, otherwise why would you be here? You loved him contrary to what Sa ra could say, anyway he left you no choice. His lips slid against yours more gently as one of his hands went under your shirt to touch the delicate skin of your stomach going up to your chest, making you tremble slightly under the contact. Slowly, his lips met your earlobe, then your jaw, then your neck. He took hold of one of your breasts, kneading the flesh and letting a satisfying huff escape from his mouth and lodge itself in your neck.

"I know Jeongguk wasn't fucking you." You shuddered slightly.

Finding your tongue again, you opened your eyes to look at Taehyung sternly, he in turn raised his head with amusement, a loving look on his face.

"Of course he did."

"How come he never got you pregnant then?" Without waiting for an answer, Taehyung lifted your top and pulled it off, you didn't stop him from doing so, pondering the question as he watched your bare chest beneath him hungrily.

"I don't know. He didn't want kids."

"But you did."

"I don't know."

"I do."

"Okay? Nice, I guess? Good for you." He stroked your delicate nipple with the tip of his thumb as he looked up at you with a look of challenge in his eyes.

"Jeongguk wasn't a good husband. He didn't treat you like he should." You nodded in agreement, which seemed to delight him, too distracted by his index finger that had joined over your nipple and pinched it lightly, drawing muffled moans from you. "I wouldn't be ashamed to get you pregnant. I'd fuck you in front of him if you asked me to." You moaned louder as Taehyung's lips closed over your other nipple, your lower belly filling with a heat of desire as he sucked like a hungry man on the fragile little button. Moaning slightly, Taehyung closed his eyes savoring your body like a fine wine, almost driven mad by your existence and smell.

Suddenly the door opened, you tried to hide your nakedness from the newcomer but your assailant didn't let you, blocking your hands, he simply raised his eyes to observe the newcomer, sliding his tongue one last time over your nipple before raising his head to Hoseok. Red with shame, you hid yourself in Taehyung's burning neck, making him quiver with delight and blush slightly in turn. Hoseok, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit bothered or embarrassed by the sight.

"Kim Namjoon on the phone, sir." With that, he smiled, closed the door and left as quick as he had come.

"Damn it, Tae, I don't want your entire staff to see me naked."

He smiled at the nickname he liked so much. "Don't be shy. They'll eventually see us fucking in the kitchen or wherever. We don't care. We do what we want. Hoseok should only be considering himself blessed by the sight of your boobs." The remark drew a smile from you as Taehyung released you from his hold, crossing your arms over your chest, you sat back to watch him get up.

"Duty calls. You should rest, Jimin is in the next room."

You nodded and he bowed his head slightly in greeting before leaving.

For many minutes you sat in the same place, a thousand questions torturing your mind. Once again, you would not sleep that night, wondering if you made the right choice or if you just got yourself into something else, something where you were not the master of the game you were playing and therefore could lost.

<tag list : @gethatcake @multifandombishthatlovekth>

[two-sides-samecoin]

I'm still a bit mad about s4 of Stranger Things because they turned both Robin and Steve into pathetic messes in order to make their dynamic work with Nancy, when in reality all three would struggle to be around each other.

Like Robin acted borderline pathetic for befriending Nancy, who was rude to her in the beginning. It's like she didn't care and threw herself at her. Plus, realistically, she would have side-eyed her for being Steve's ex. But her entire personality got thrown out the window in order to avoid conflict. Because let's be real, if Steve acted the way around her like Nancy did, Robin would have acted differently and called him out. She wouldn't let it slide, but it's Steve and not Nancy, who is perfect.

Steve acted pathetic around Nancy because he still loved her after all these years despite moving on in s3. It wouldn't be half as bad if it was more balanced, but we never saw Nancy being completely in love with Steve, even when they were together. It was always him who loved more, and now he still followed her around despite her actions in s2. Like the audience (at least some) knows Nancy cheated on him, which is a touchy subject for Steve, and yet all of his personality was ignored in order to worship his ex. I swear if he would know the truth about what happened at Murray's, I doubt he would act that way. But that would require the show acknowledging Jancy cheated, which would paint their relationship in a bad light, and the show wanted you to root for them (at least in s1-s2)

Not to forget how both Robin and Steve's other relationships got ignored for focusing on simping for Nancy. Stobin deserves an independent arc outside of romance. Like discussing their trauma from s3 and healing from it.

I wouldn't be so mad if Nancy was the driving force to make it work in s4. If she had reflected on her mistakes with Steve, it would be much more satisfying. It would make her befriending Robin much more meaningful and more natural to bring back Stancy. Because again, it's only one-sided, and Steve deserves someone who loves him as much as he loves his partner. Nancy never showed that in the show. It was always about Jonathan from s1 onwards. Her admitting she only chose Steve because Jonathan wasn't available put Stancy in such a tragic light for me. Because they never were to make it because Nancy wasn't in it 100%. It's not even the Barb thing, I'm sure it played into it, but Stancy failing is mostly due to Steve being the second choice from the beginning. Steve deserves to know that from her because he still has hopes and blames himself for the relationship's failure. And if they make Stancy endgame without Nancy putting in an ounce of work, I'll be pissed.

Also, if the show had included the messy problems within the teen group, the season ending in disaster would have been much more believable. Like the plan wouldn't have worked either way because of the tension and them not being on the same page and having trouble working together. They were destined to fail because of inner circle problems. I don't get this need of everyone being best buddies when there is so much conflict between them. It's boring tbh. And idk what the Duffers problem is that nobody is allowed to have negative feelings about Nancy or admitting that she hurt people. It's like the show is gaslighting us. You, as the audience, see how Nancy makes mistakes, and yet nobody in the show acknowledges it or is phased by it. The opposite happens because everyone simply loves her more for it. And then you're like, am I crazy??? Like when every other character makes mistakes, it's called out. People still give Steve shit about high school, but with Nancy, the same standard doesn't apply.

also this is going to be long so going to put under read more

oh my god same every time i think about how stobin just looks pathetic to show how nancy is this capable ‘leader’ drives me insane. because first of: steve and robin helped way more than nancy did. nancy just got told things and then shot a gun. that’s honestly all she did in season 4 except for create a plan that failed (which it would have failed either way but yeah). legit people think that stobin did nothing in the major fight which is because they put so much pressure on nancy’s shot that their contributions mean nothing.

honestly i will never understand robin wanting to make friends so fast with nancy meanwhile we saw last season that she called nancy a priss. also everyone complains about robin not having more talk about her sexuality and being outed which would have been good if right here we got it! robin is hesitant to be friends with nancy because maybe for her it’s always been weird for her to have friends that are girls. we could have gotten this expansion on how there’s homophobia in the 80s so perfectly with this storyline! but nope! yeah honestly they three out a bunch of robin’s characteristics and personality to just follow nancy around like a duck or a dog. and 100% robin would have called steve out if he acted like nancy did to her.

honestly yep that about steve! like he acts sooo whipped about nancy which to be fair he was while they were dating and even before. but why isn’t steve allowed a little bit resentment about how their relationship ended? why isn’t he allowed to be mad at nancy? god everytime i think about how steve is just now reduced to worshipping his ex i get so fucking annoyed. like i love how sweet steve is don’t get me wrong but can we also see him maybe experience some more negative emotions? it feels like after season 1 steve wasn’t allowed to feel anger at people/characters anymore. of course he’s bitchy and snippy but he doesn’t have any true anger moments! honestly lol the show will never acknowledge jancy cheating just like the people in the fandom who are delulu. also like lol just because you admit it doesn’t mean that you can’t still like them or that they’re evil people.

i am so fucking mad how stobin was just reduced to nancy! it even happens in the fandom: you can’t go two seconds about hearing the boat scene without hearing how ‘robin stared at nancy and look how she yelled nancy’s name’ meanwhile her bestie STEVE is dying. there are so many other dynamics but the show did stobin so dirty by just making their dynamic about nancy so fandom simply followed suit no matter how much they hate the duffers and what they write: they always seem to do exactly what the duffers are doing.

everything you said about nancy being the driving force. honestly it’s wild how nancy admits herself that she settled for steve because jonathan wasn’t available and people still think that she didn’t a) cheat by knowingly getting with another man despite the fact that she knew she wanted jonathan and b) just say that she went along with what steve was doing. i’m actually going to scream about that second one because how on earth do you want nancy to be her own person but then fucking willingly take away what she says she did of her own right?!? makes no sense: the math ain’t mathing. thank you for saying it’s not just barb! honestly people think it’s just about barb but no it’s legit because nancy just doesn’t love steve.

the way i love the messy dynamics but the duffers just breeze over it now bothers me. hell the fandom bothers me more when they do this lol. god everything here! this is already so long so i don’t want to add too much. but i do like nancy it’s just the fact that a) the show makes you believe that she’s right all the time! b) also her fans who just don’t want to criticize her or just won’t admit that she’s wrong in areas where she is also c) when her fans just make steve seem like an abuser. honestly the fans of hers have been pissing me off more than anything ngl but yeah i do love her just wish her flaws were more showed in a negative light and wish more people can acknowledge it

[tsintotwo]

[59 Hours, Part 6. (Part 5 here). Jake (Sweetbitter) x Reader. Guys, this is done. Finished. This last part is a bit long, and expect a bunch of angst for obvious reasons. I legit only had one idea for one scene when I started this, and it turned into a literal novella- a journey I enjoyed. Thank you so much if you’ve been with it thus far, reading and engaging, and let me know if this wrapped up okay for you.]

Hour 39

���For fuck’s sake.’, mutters Jake, as the apartment plunges into darkness for the fourth time within the hour.

It started happening just when you were finally getting ready to settle down for the night. After being together, both of you had collapsed in place on the floor. The shadow panic from your past was trying to pull you under again, so you held onto Jake. It was more desperate clutching than holding, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t stop yourself, because what if he pushes me away now, he didn’t even want me, just games, he’s angry with me anyway, he hates me, he’ll shake me off and walk away disgusted right now, please no- but Jake didn’t do any of that. He just hugged you close, catching his breath, slowly relaxing into your arms.

There wasn’t much talking. You cleaned yourselves up a while later. In addition to all the other things, it was already past any sort of reasonable bedtime (for you anyway, you’re sure Jake is the late-nights-late-mornings kinda dude), so you should’ve been exhausted. And you were, but you still felt wound up and restless. 

Truth is, as soon as Jake and you'd broken apart, you felt his absence all over you, with your whole being. You didn't want to let go of him. And when you physically did, when you weren’t holding him, touching him, you wanted to feel that you still could- that anytime you reached out, he’d reach back, and it would be as easy as breathing. It’s what you wanted because it’s what you felt- the amount of closeness you felt with him was powerful without rhyme or reason, wreaking havoc within you like the blizzard did in the city yesterday.

But Jake- how did he feel? The fight and then the intimacy – it was tangled, and complicated, and now you didn’t know where you stood with him. And you were scared, so scared, because you were thinking- what if he doesn’t feel the same way?, and then, but what if he does? What then?

You tried to compose yourself as Jake walked back into the bedroom. It didn’t matter that as soon as you saw him again you wanted to go right back into his arms. He deserved space, and maybe you needed distance too. Needed to clear your head, think. Though how any sort of thinking was going to help you anymore, you didn’t know. You were just opening your mouth to tell him you were fine with the couch tonight- will he shrug and go to sleep on his own, will he throw me a look, then pull me into the bed with him- and that’s when the lights went out.

The power lines are glitching. You lit the two candles you got from the Chinese takeout people and were getting ready for a trial like last night- putting on clothes, socks- Jake also doing the same- when the lights came back. Then they went out again ten minutes later. It’s been happening in irregular intervals since. Something must have gone pop in a shower of sparks somewhere, and they’re trying to fix it now.

You guess you could still go to sleep. Turn off the lights, keep all the clothes on, curl into your couch, and when you started feeling so hot it woke you up, you’d know the heating was on and power came back for real (or if you started feeling so cold your feet felt like they were going to fall off, maybe you’d ask Jake to please share his bed and blanket). But Jake sits in his bed, leaning back, one knee up, one stretched, absently pulling on the strings of his hoodie, looking like he has no intention of sleeping tonight. So you sit quietly on the couch too, not knowing what to do.

But just taking some time to relax, just being in your own space and watching Jake be in his has calmed you somewhat. The chaos of your feelings is settling into a deep blue harmony, and the one outstanding note says end, finish, over- this is your last night here, one of your last few hours with Jake. You’ll be gone tomorrow, never see him again. And soon as that happens, you’ll probably dissipate from his mind and memory like the smoke of his cigarettes, because why would he bother to remember you? All you did was try to meddle in business that’s not yours. You’ve known him for two days- what gave you the right to charge him about how he handles his relationships and feelings?

So while you’re still here, maybe you should make sure to set things right. So that if he ever thinks of you, he won’t feel like shoving the thought away the next second- you hope.

‘I said things maybe I shouldn’t have.’, you say, gathering the courage finally. ‘I’m sorry, Jake.’,

‘Are you?’, he is looking out the window, even though it’s just a blotted square and the only thing to see through it is dark gray nothing.

You take a deep breath, ‘I am if I hurt you, made you feel bad with the way I said them. I-I wanted to-‘, you stop. It’s hard for you to make this apology because while you are sorry if you hurt him, you don’t actually think you were wrong about any of the things you said, and you do still think hearing them- maybe in a better way than you told it- was necessary for him.

‘I wanted you to know that talking to people about deep things isn’t so bad, and you gotta do it sometimes. I guess I did that the worst possible way, and I’m sorry.‘

‘Hm’, Jake sits up straighter, leans towards you slightly from his position on the bed, ‘so tell me, exactly how sorry were you when you couldn’t stop moaning and scr-‘

‘Jake!’, you stop him, blushing in the dark, and see him smile in the flickering orange glow of the candles on his bedside table. He’s making jokes, and you’re relieved beyond anything else- he doesn’t hate you. ‘No, I’m not sorry about that part.’, you confess.

He nods slightly, ‘Good.’ Then he sighs, ‘And I do have people that I talk to. So, whatever, you don’t need to worry.’ He doesn’t mean it in a snarky way, he’s just letting you know.

‘You mean Simone.’, you say before you can stop yourself.

‘Yes.’, he’s watching you, wary, and oh, God, oh, God, here you go again.

‘Have you told her about me yet?’, you ask.

He looks away, not answering.

‘Are you going to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why? She’s your best friend, best confidante- you just said that.’

‘She doesn’t need to know everything-‘

‘Jake-’ you realize your pulse rate is rising, and try to calm yourself down. If you’re doing this, you aren’t botching it like last time. ‘I get that this- me being here- might not be such a big event for you that you’d want to promote it everywhere. But if you’re talking about what you did for the two days stuck at home, and you don’t even mention me, that’s weird-’

‘Oh, yeah, maybe I’ll mention you. Tell everyone I fucked a random girl in my apartment. They haven’t heard that enough times, I’m sure they’ll be riveted-‘

He’s doing it again, retreating and hitting back, trying to hurt whoever tries to peer too close- but you know what, you’re not backing down this time, you’re not losing your calm, because if he can say his things, you can say yours too, can’t you?

‘Yeah, that’s what you’ll say. But you won’t say how you liked it when I cooked for you or how nice that conversation was, you won’t say that you had me in your bed but not for sex- you found peace with me holding you, you won’t say how you felt when I touched and kissed every inch of you and it wasn’t just because I wanted your body, or how you felt when you did the same to me. You won’t say how easy it is to talk to me or even to be with me in silence when you’re not pulling away. You won’t say any of that, to anyone, and not to Simone.’

You can hear Jake’s breathing from here, can make out his chest rising and falling with the effort of it. Then a sudden harsh glare blinds both of you for a moment- power is back again.

As you both blink, adjusting to the light, you take deep breaths. Where did your resolve go- that you wouldn’t do this? Jake has lived his life without you this far and he will for the rest of it, where do you, a two-day stranger- figure into this? Just because he makes you feel things you haven’t in a long while, or ever, you can’t hope it’s the same for him. Nothing that happened in this apartment was meant to last, was it? How you feel- just push it down, bury it under, and go on to your real life, because this is what you do- the sensible thing.

But is it sensible to ignore what’s right in front of you, what you can clearly see- that however he feels about you, it’s not nothing, that you have an effect on him just as he has one on you? Is it sensible to try spending the rest of your life forgetting a person and regretting how you could have tried- if not to have them, then to have them be in a place they deserve to be?

And you’re not you in this apartment, you’re someone else. You’re reckless. You don’t calculate, don’t make the best plans. You rush in headfirst, you fall dizzyingly, you defy, you hope. So what if you didn’t give up just yet, even if you don’t know what it is that you’re trying to save? What if you wanted more, even if it meant you have to fight tooth-and-claws for it? Maybe there's nothing to gain, but you've got nothing to lose.

You go and sit on the foot of Jake’s bed. Talking to people is your job, and while survey questionnaires might be the same for everyone you talk to, the exact way of asking the questions is up to you. Everyone responds to a different style, and with Jake, you have to take every bit of care you can.

‘Jake’, you are calm and steady, imploring softly, ‘I’m just trying to understand, please. Just a few simple questions that I have- would you answer? It’s okay if you don’t, but please try. When you said you had the idea for a business, did you tell Simone right away?’

The pause is long enough that you think he won’t answer. But then he says, ‘No. I told her when I wanted to sell the house. She needed to know…’

‘Okay. And you were telling me about how you don’t like to visit home, but she insists that you go?’

‘It’s not fair for her to go alone either. It’s our house, if she’s going-‘

‘What would she do if she found you like I found you last night? Bad trip?’, you hold your breath, this is a touchy one. But Jake answers like he doesn’t have to think, ‘Take care of me, then call me a fucking idiot for swallowing that stuff alone at home’. He wasn’t alone, but you guess he means not in a group or having a party.

‘So she’d judge you for it?’, you ask.

Jake frowns, ‘It’s not judging, we can say that stuff to each other. Whatever.’

‘And if the whole thing was reversed? You found her in her apartment, alone, having a bad trip? Would you call her a fucking idiot?’

‘Wh- no! She’s not an idiot, if she did something like that, that’d mean something was seriously messed up-‘

‘So she is not an idiot, but you are, for the same thing? Jake, is that what you believe?’

Jake’s face crumples in confusion and annoyance. ‘Stop talking.’, he says, holding up a hand, ‘Turning around my words- you don’t even know Simone-‘

‘No, I don’t!’, you interrupt, ‘And that’s why I’m asking. And, completely based on what you’ve told me here’s what I now know- she chose most of your workplaces. She chooses when you visit the cape. She judges your decisions. And when you told her you’d start a new thing for yourself, she wasn’t happy, excited, or encouraging, she was just sad. And that made you give it up. Jake, there’s a… power imbalance here. Her terms always matter more than yours.’

‘Will you shut the fuck up?’, Jake slides off the bed so quickly, you almost miss it. ‘Jesus!’, he’s shouting at you now, only his voice gets deeper instead of higher, so the sound is like an animal growling. ‘What is wrong with you? Simone looks out for me, and you’d twist that like-‘

‘I’m sorry!’, your voice is rising to keep up with his volume, but you still try to keep it steady, ‘I get it! If someone I’ve known for two days started talking trash about someone I’ve known and loved my whole life, I wouldn’t trust them either. I swear I’m not trying to come between you two. I- you told me you both only had each other growing up, and of course you care about each other. It’s just, you two are different, so over the years you learned how to stay no matter what, and she learned how to not let go no matter what-‘

‘She was the only one there!’, Jake’s eyes are burning. He looks at you, but you feel like he’s seeing something that’s not even here. ‘That whole day, looking for mom, not even- no one even looking at first, because who knew where the fuck she decided to hole up today- and then looking, everyone, me waiting for her, crying myself to sleep, and then they pull her up from the sea that day’- Some kind of floodgate has opened, and he talks like he’s mad, ‘the house full of police and reporters from some shit local paper and people I haven’t seen once in my life, bringing stupid seafood platters, going ‘Aw, poor kid’, pinching my cheek, then leaving like they’d fucking done something.’ Jake’s eyes are glistening with tears, and you feel your eyes sting too. The pain is so raw in the air now, still. ‘My dad didn’t even know where I was half the time- Simone found me, she gave me cookies, took me in her house, played with me.’

The energy that’s always so coiled within Jake is pouring out now, uncontrolled, and he pants, hands flailing, feet shifting, ‘And, and the kids at school- where’s your mommy, Jake? Where’s mommy?- Teachers looking at me like I was some fucking alien they didn’t know how to talk to-‘

He’s moving away as he talks, and you stand up, taking steps toward him. ‘-My dad drinking all day every day, disappearing to who knows where then coming back just to fucking beat me up, I was fucking glad when he didn’t come back-‘

‘Jake-‘, you whisper, your heart breaking for him.

‘And I was all alone, no one wanted me, who would? Only Simone, she’s the only one who gives a shit-‘, he’s walking backwards, ‘So don’t fucking tell me I don’t need her. You don’t know -‘

‘Jake!’, you’re trying to stand in front of him, but he keeps moving away, ‘Listen to me-‘

‘No! Just how much more of this bullshit do you have left? ‘Cause-‘

‘Just listen-‘

‘WHY?’, he roars, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ And you don’t know what comes over you, but in two steps you’re almost onto him, and using all your strength, you push him back to the wall that you both were nearing, your hands on his chest. He’s shaking, and you are too. Your entire inside feels like it’s burning up in hot, agonizing flames and with a sinking feeling you think this- this is what we become-I don’t make him better, we both make each other worse- but no. No. You won’t give into that dynamic, that thought, you won’t scream, won’t lose it, won’t be toxic. You will tell him what you want to, that much you’ll do. And then you’ll let go- of him, of it, of everything.

Jake’s eyes blaze. He's just shocked enough that he hasn't shaken you off, shoved you away yet, but he will, and you have to start before that.

‘Jake.’, you gulp in as much air as you can, ‘I’m nobody. No one. I’m just a random girl. But I have a story for you. I’ll tell that story now. You don’t have to do anything but listen.’ You take one second to gather your thoughts. ‘On my fourteenth birthday, my mom sat me down and told me how proud she was of me. Dad had left, and things were tough, but I had been so good. Such a big girl already, always doing my homework, helping with my siblings, never a complaint, always by her side when she needed me. And then she told me she’d need more help.’

Jake is listening, good, ‘She was picking up another job, and I would need to babysit more, and do more chores, and I would, wouldn’t I, I was her best girl! She hugged me, braided my hair all nice, sent me to bed with the sweetest forehead kiss. And seven years later, when I was twenty one, I realized no one in the world actually gives a single fuck about me.’

You take a shaky breath, ‘It was right after I finally managed to leave my ex, breaking into millions of pieces inside even though I knew he was terrible to me. I came home at night, and it was like a cemetery, even with three people in it. My sister was 15, up in her room with her phone, texting boys she’d never tell me about because I was too strict, I tried to control everything. My brother was 11, asleep, and I was too old to feel like a sister to him, he was afraid of me- and I don’t blame him, I had been cross and impatient with him so many times. And my mom- she was in one of her depressive episodes, more and more every month, she hadn’t gone to work for three days, locked herself in her room. No one had cooked anything, no one ever did when I didn’t. No leftover for me in the fridge that I’d hoped would be there, no one to talk to. This was the emptiness I was afraid of, that made me take so long to break it off with that fucker, that if I let go of that one thing, there would be nothing for me. There wasn’t, not a single person who had a single thought to spare for me, and you know what I realized? I only had myself to blame.’

It's harder for you to talk now, and you have to make an effort to keep your voice from shaking, ‘At fourteen, I got stuck being my mom’s ‘best girl’. I didn’t have time to hang out with friends, I didn’t have time for the boys who liked me- there was one who swore he was in love with me in senior year, and I broke his heart in front of his friends when I told him I wouldn’t go to prom with him. I didn’t have time. I worked jobs, I did household chores, I took care of my siblings, and I felt it was all worth it when mom looked at me in that way, smiled that smile at me- letting me know how much of a relief it is that she could count on me, that I was there, telling me and anyone she met that I was the best daughter in the whole world. It didn’t matter dad left, and my sister and brother felt more like jobs than siblings- I wasn’t unloved, mom loved me so much, so, so much. I didn’t notice it dry up over the years, I didn’t see that she started taking everything I did for granted, I didn’t see when everyone who cared about me, or tried to care about me dropped off from my periphery. I lived for my mother’s smile, and as it became rarer, I became more desperate, tried to do more, blamed it all on her depression, but at twenty one, I realized all that’s left was me, all alone.’

You swallow, feeling tears run down your cheek. You have never told anyone all this. Jake is like a stone statue, listening to you, ‘We do that, Jake.’, you say, wiping your face, ‘We get stuck. We think the one person who loved us at fourteen is still the only one who’d care about us at forty, and we put all our coins on that bet, becoming what they wanted us to become. Sometimes it’s true, sometimes you need them, and they need you, but sometimes, it’s all you, blind, going around in a circle.’

You take your hands off Jake’s body, stepping back. ‘You were right, I don’t know Simone. But I know we all are some kind of broken. She must be too, she’s dealing with that like she knows how, and maybe that’s how you get stuck, you both do.’

You’re fully clothed still, you realize, but the power has been back for a while now, and it’s hot. You take off your coat, feeling so tired, suddenly. You’ve been talking so much. ‘I’m not trying to save you or anything, Jake- ha, goodness knows I got my hands full with myself- and no one can save anyone anyway. You don’t need saving. You just need to see. You weren’t loved enough when you were a kid, and I’m so sorry about that, but that isn’t a lifelong truth about who you are. Simone was the only one who gave a shit, but she doesn’t have to be the only one now, and you don't have to be the only one for her either. I’m nobody, and you wouldn’t want me anyway, but one day you’ll meet someone and-’, stupid tears welling up again, weren’t you supposed to let go?-‘if you let them, you’ll see just how much they’ll love you. Or maybe you don’t meet just one person- you have beautiful things with multiple people- that can also happen. But you have to let them know and love you, Jake, let them have the whole of you, not a walled-up version, not just a Jake half of Jake-and-Simone. You can’t get stuck being that, trying to live your life around that forever. Just being with you for two days I’ve seen it, and you have to see too- you could be so much more.’

Jake is very still, barely even blinking, and you don’t have anything else to tell him that he needs to hear. You still talk though, you can’t stop, because as pathetic as it is, you never had anyone to say this stuff to before, ‘As for me, I’m still at home taking care of things, but I don’t plan to be doing this forever. Mom- her depression is real, and while what she did to me wasn’t fair, I can’t hate her for that. I’ll get her help. Mental health treatment is so fucking expensive… but I’m trying to talk to some organizations who might help. I can’t keep taking care of her all her life. My siblings are growing up, they won’t need me that much. I’m saving money. I’ll get out one day. And meanwhile, I took on this job because I get to travel. Thought I’d meet people, live a little, even if that means getting stuck in surprise blizzards in crazy cities.’ You try to smile, though your eyes are hazy with tears, ‘Maybe I’ll meet someone too, and they’ll love me, take care of me for a change. I want that. Not gonna lie, kinda forgot what it feels like-‘

Jake’s hand reaches out to grab you behind your neck, then he’s pressing your face onto his chest, and hugging you so tight you think he’s trying to mark your skin, get under it, sink into your bloodstream. You’re sobbing, holding him like he’s the last iceberg while the Titanic sinks behind you, and you think maybe he’s crying too, but you don’t know, you can’t see his face, and it doesn’t matter anyway, because at this moment, right now, you two understand each other, know each other perfectly, without having to exchange a single word.

Hour 42

Huddling under the blanket together, you two have Chinese leftover right out of the boxes like little kids. Crying really takes it out of you, and it’s been hours since you last ate. Jake groans about the possibility of food getting on his bed- he’s a bit of a clean freak- and you counter that you got much worse things on his carpet earlier, and he has to agree. He asks about birth control, serious- he didn’t use protection the last time, and you assure him that based on your cycle, you should be safe, but you’ll take a pill tomorrow anyway.

Then you’re ready for sleep, finally. It’s about to be dawn, but peering out of his window, you can’t see anything, the sky still dark with clouds. The big Chinese place sign is lit, washing his bed with soft yellow light as Jake turns the apartment lights off. He comes up behind you on the bed, you turn, and somehow you end up on your knees opposite each other, foreheads touching.

‘Jake,’, you say, voice tiny.

‘Mm.’, his arms are around your back, pinpricks of light in his eyes, earring glinting.

‘I like you.’, you feel like you’re in fifth grade again, confessing to a boy for the first time, but you didn’t get to do that stuff in fifth grade, did you, so you’ll do it now. Maybe the person is wrong, or maybe it’s the time, or the place, or just the situation, but why think so much when it’s all about to be over anyway? You’ve got enough of living with regrets. ‘You don’t have to-‘, you swallow, ‘You don’t have to say anything. I just thought I’d tell-‘

He stops you with a kiss, his mouth slowly devouring yours, long and tender. When you come up for air after what seems like ages, breathless, foreheads touching again, he murmurs, ‘Move to New York.’

‘You move to my hometown.’, you whisper, challenging him back, ‘I think that pub in the next town over is still looking for a bartender.’

He laughs, shaking silently, and you laugh too, and you both know neither of you are moving. Life is not a movie, and be it your roots or be it shackles, you don’t get to cut off and escape in a day. The best you can hope for is the promise of trying- to no one else, but to yourself.

‘Come to sleep.’, Jake pulls you next to him under the blanket, and when he kisses you on the forehead you think you might cry, but then you’re all snug and tiny in his arms, your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, and you think how you have this moment, how you’ll always have this moment, no matter what.

Hour 49

You wake up to see Jake ready for going out. He’s wearing what must be their uniform at the restaurant- striped button-up, slacks, and a tie.

‘Nice outfit’, you observe.

‘Shut up’, he mutters, trying to get his hair to behave with a brush. ‘Locker room lock is jammed, apparently.’

‘Pulling it off, though.’, you tell him, ‘I want to tip you already.’

He half-smiles, putting down the brush. ‘I gotta be at work.’, he says, ‘We open at four but lots to do before-‘

‘Okay.’, you don’t need to know any more than the fact that he’s leaving now. ‘When does your shift end?’

‘Eleven.’

You’re not seeing him again. Trying to ignore the snaking pain the thought brings with it, you say, ‘Okay. Give me just fifteen minutes. I’ll get out with you now and wait it out at the airport-‘

He gives you a look, ‘Where do you get these ideas? Your plane is at two in the morning.’

He was listening last evening after all, even though all he’d said was ‘Good.’

‘Yeah, but-‘

He throws you his keys, ‘Just lock up before you leave. Leave the keys with the Chinese people.’

‘What, you know them?’

‘No, but I think I should. Food was great.’

You smile, ‘Yeah.’

Jake has shaved this morning. It makes him look much younger, and softer, and it hurts to look at him. ‘I’ll get out around ten at night.’, you tell him.

He nods, not saying anything.

At the door, you kiss. He tells you he’s running late, then kisses you again. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder for a few seconds, breathing, arms around your waist, and you keep blinking as you run your hand on the back of his head, letting your fingers wind in his hair, messing it up again.

He doesn’t know where you work, your address except the name of your town. He doesn’t ask for your phone number, your social media handles (which in any case you don’t have that many of). He was never going to call you anyway, and what would he have said if he did? And what would you say back? So you understand, and you don’t ask for his things either.

You two lock eyes for a few moments, and you try to memorize him- the raven black hair messy in the back, the ring of amber around the pupils of his blue eyes, the groove on his nose, the unexpectedly pretty mouth. The earring and the chain, the tattoo on his arm that you can see because he has his sleeves rolled back. All of it is overlaid on memories that you made in the last two days- his smokey kisses and pink cheeks when he came in from the snow and hoarse voice and saying your name over and over- too many memories. They’ll last you a lifetime. They have to.

He puts on his coat and leaves, not looking back.

You walk aimlessly around the apartment. Shower. Gather your things in the backpack. Go to the place downstairs, now open, and get some more Chinese food. Chat with the owner folks again for a few minutes, thanking them for the candles. Come back, browse the internet- parts of the city are still ravaged but things are almost back to normal- it’s NYC after all. You plan your travel and work schedule for the next two days, putting things down in the calendar. You never did get the survey done in the city, you’ll tell them to send someone else for it next time.

Time moves slowly, and you miss Jake like you can’t breathe. Eventually, you pick up the t-shirt he took off before leaving. You take off your own top, slip Jake’s shirt on, and curl up on his side of the bed. ‘Very 90s rom-comey’, you think to yourself, ‘but nobody’s gonna see me anyway.’

Hour 59

You thought about it many times- you could just go to him. Swing by the Union Square Café. Just show up. He’ll be the one mixing drinks behind the bar. Maybe you could order something. Really tip him this time, bring that joke full circle.

But you don’t do it. You won’t. You’ve said your goodbyes. You don’t know how he’ll feel about you showing up unannounced in his workplace. And what’s the point anyway? You’ll just be saying the same goodbyes again.

Your Uber is arriving, so you come downstairs. You look up at the building once, at the window with the big Chinese sign. In that apartment, you were someone else, but now, outside it, you still feel different. Jake gave you something, you can’t put your finger on it. Maybe it’s just the part of you that felt that he gave you back. Day after day, thinking about work, plans, moves, strategies about life, things, other people- all of it blended into an endless muddy brown haze, with only the possibility of a light at the distant end of it, and then you met Jake, and he made you feel- emotions and connection and so many things you can’t even name. He’s hot and smooth and all that, and he and you bonded over trauma maybe, but this is really why you liked him so much. Still do- you think, helplessly trying to push down the clench of hurt inside your chest. God, imagine having to get over someone you were never even with- ooh no, you don’t have to imagine, you’ll be doing that now, for who know how long.

You look at the app. Your Uber car is stuck in traffic. Someone veers their bike into the alley with an alarmingly reckless speed, as if their life depended on it, and then they come to stop in front of you and your heart stops beating. It’s Jake. He’s back.

He lets the bike fall, ‘Thought I’d missed you. My windows are dark and you weren’t at the front door of the building.’, he’s panting, trying to catch his breath.

It occurs to you that this is the side door. You used this one because it’s the one you know.

‘What are you doing here?’, you manage to ask. You’ll have to leave in minutes but just seeing him now your body hums and buzzes like it just received the headiest dose of happiness of your life.

‘Wanted to see you.’, Jake says, and this man of yours, words are not his preference, are they, because then he pins you to the wall, and kisses you on the mouth.

‘Thought you didn’t get off until eleven’, you say in between the kisses, breathless, unbuttoning his coat and slipping your hand inside, sliding it on his chest over his shirt.

‘Oh, I’m not off. Just told Nick to cover me for five minutes and bailed.’ He unzips your coat, and the cold is a shock, but then his hand slips inside your sweater and it’s not cold, it’s getting a bit hot actually- ‘It’s already been twenty minutes.’ He says, kissing you again, ‘Howard’s gonna freak’. He grins against your jaw.

‘Really.’, you’ve been clutching on his collar, and the tie is loose. You like it much better this way, ‘Lots of trouble, just to see me.’

‘You’re worth some trouble.’, he murmurs against your ear, gently sucking on your earlobe.

‘Oh, yeah?’, you shiver- not from the cold.

‘Oh, yeah.’

Your Uber driver is calling you. ‘Just a minute!’, you gasp into your phone as Jake kisses your neck, ‘Just wait there for a couple minutes, please. I’m almost there.’

The car is at the front door, you realize, and now it’s really time to go.

You give Jake one last quick and full kiss on the mouth before peeling off of him. You bend down, and take out a black sharpie from your backpack that landed on the ground. You always have a few of these handy for marking questionnaires.

Jake is watching as you loosen his tie more and unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. You write your phone number along his right collarbone with the sharpie, pushing aside his white tank. You touch your lips there before you button his shirt back up and close the front of his coat for him.

‘A tattoo from me.’, you smile at him, ‘Don’t sweat too much tonight.’

You like that he could though. He could sweat, or could shower, messing up the numbers, or could just forget to copy it. Or he could have it and just choose not to call you. You’d never know which. You like that.

Jake nods, murmurs, ‘Thank you.’

‘I won’t-‘, you have to tell him, ‘I won’t wait for you to call me. But-‘

‘But I will, if I’m feeling too fucked up some time and in need of talking about my feelings.’

‘Or makeup advice.’, you add.

‘Or that,’, he agrees.

You hug him. It’s harder to feel with your heavy jackets, but you can tell he’s hugging you back with all he has.

You won’t cry. You understand how big a deal it is for him to want to call you for talking about real stuff if he ever feels the need. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and he won’t ever, but he trusts you, and feels that you are close. You’re friends. And friends is the best you could hope for, given everything else.

You kiss his cheek. Say goodbye. He lets you go, taking just a second too long to do it.

You turn back once. You thought you wouldn’t cry, but your eyes are blurry, and through them you can see him, standing there looking back at you. You swallow your stupid sob, and smile through it.

Maybe it’s the end. Maybe it isn’t. You get to find out. And that- that is glorious.

[quietbluejay]

False Gods 6

you know im a little surprised that Erebus didn't go for "he's going to thunder warrior you" instead but that might be too big of a pill for Horus to swallow so he goes for Horus' fears instead

Erebus: think, horus, think! if this was entirely science why didn't he make 100 or 1000 horuses?

all i can think of is

Horus: the Emperor would never! like honestly I know it's controversial but I actually think most of this dream sequence is well done

the entire dream sequence should really have been "step 1" in corrupting horus not him right at the end deciding "yeah i'll go with erebus who has been lying to me the whole time" and then suddenly waking up as sexy evil lamp horus you know all his appearances could be replaced by a sexy lamp with "evil" written on it

the exceptions being, what, Vengeful Spirit and a few bits in Slaves to Darkness

Erebus: yeah you're all warpy Horus starts having the beginnings of what sounds like a panic attack Horus: so we're tainted, all of us… Erebus: noooo it's just power, it's about how you use it (lol) Horus: so why'd the Emperor do a bad job? Erebus: because he was weak leannnnsss towards Horus Erebus: not like you

Horus: take your hands off me, "Sejanus", and yeah i know it's not actually Sejanus the Custodes run in and dramatically point a spear at Horus and tell him to halt and face judgement

he's hurt that the Imperium fired at him Horus finally loses it and goes wild on the Custodians

you'd think that okay maybe that'd be his first instinct to talk to Valdor but okay…when's he going to remember he's time travelling…

anyways it's now down to him vs Valdor and the force of the fight is starting to affect the tanks, so Horus backs off

hmmm

Horus, you recognize Valdor but not your dad….. and time snaps back to reality ope there goes gravity and the tanks are born away on a whirlwind

okay

back over to loken

loken really isn't in the mood for a qruze story

qruze: the what loken internally: shit loken: the weapon that wounded Horus qruze: ahhh it must be powerful loken quickly changes the subject he wanted to go back down to davin but he was worried about what he'd do to abaddon or little horus qruze talks a bit about brotherhood

qruze tells Loken about how dare Varvarus want things like telling the fleet what happened, giving compensation to the victims' families, and punishing the guys responsible

Loken internally: welp RIP Maloghurst for having to deal with this loken also drinking that astartes superiority kool aid unsurprising tbh

but loken notices something else qruze said about remembrancers

karkasy….maybe you shouldn't have named it after a phrase that was said in a significant conversation with an astartes… though i mean, tbf, once loken saw the poems he'd probably catch on so of course now we cut to Karkasy who is feeling like he was productive and deserves a little treat he notices a whole lot of lectitio divinitatus symbols scratched on the walls and figures if he follows them he'd end up at a prayer meeting wow they've gotten bold

oh karkasy i'm afraid your universe is much, much worse than that he gets back to his door and apparently astartes smell like piss wait no i misread the corridor smells like piss but he can smell astartes even above that he's been found out he decides to face it like a man and enters his room to find loken reading his notebooks

you know what i'm proud of karkasy

though i guess he's got nothing to lose, but still it's more brave than he'd have been before karkasy: you're the one who told me to tell the truth even when it was unpalatable he managed to hit loken in his weak spot and he collapses a bit and sits on karkasy's bed

they have to stay out of the gray spaces as well which is LMAO but i get that what he means is with respect to the people they are supposed to be the defenders of and karkasy says he's going to keep writing til they throw him in jail well, loken can't argue with that lol otherwise he's a tyrant so he's putting karkasy under his protection

time for Keeler and Sindermann to talk Sindermann has been isolating himself for a while, though i mean i guess we knew that already but like he's been really isolating himself

ugh

you know given the state of Terra and everything, why would being thin be desirable? but i know im expecting too much from McNeill here so Sindermann wants to know more about the Imperial Cult Keeler is dubious because she thought he'd use his iterator skills to try and deconvert her

ah i do love irony specifically i'm referring to "religious hectoring from an autocratic priesthood" the pattern Sindermann has noticed is that there's a mysterious giant gold figure that keeps showing up in all these old texts sindermann thinks he's got his hands on the book of lorgar the one written by lorgar which is, er, written in a derivation of an ancient human language …that's supposed to be Colchisian right? it's one Sindermann doesn't recognize though

lol lmao

Sindermann: what if we've been wrong our whole lives Sindermann: i think we need a god more than ever keeler: w t f it's in cuneiform the book, that is

over to Horus and now his hallucination takes him to Cthonia

also, Erebus is gone and he hears the wolves again Horus: OKAY FINALLY LETS GET THIS OVER WITH voila, it is magnus

im still not over how he sacrificed a few thousand people for this like way to prove the haters wrong buddy

Magnus: it's YOU who is the impostor Magnus: BEHOLD ITS EREBUS Erebus: ok i lied to you about who i was but i was totally telling the truth about everything else Magnus: nuh uh Erebus: uh huh

and now over to Keeler and Sindermann time to look at some pictures

they're identical to the ones in the book of lorgar Keeler makes a composite image of the tattoos and prints it out

this is literally word salad im not going to bang on about it because this is probably a time crunch thing but geez so Sindermann goes to work on the translation and Keeler looks around at the books he's been reading she picks up a book that calls to her, against her better judgement

meanwhile Sindermann is stuck reading out loud and can't stop

oops! daemon summoning she ends up punching Sindermann to try and get him to let go of the book it works and he's able to stop and the two of them start running but unfortunately the daemon is enough here to chase after them

disco party daemon

so things aren't looking so good for our duo! it's about to breathe flames on them!

ending the scene on a cliffie

[penroseparticle]

Penrose Song of the Day, Day 34: Walang Alam by Hev Abi

I found this song through happenstance.

The other day my mom was telling me that I need to let my mind run the engine, so to speak, so that I can get it to wind down enough to let me do things. The proverbial "let the kid run in circles until he's tired enough to focus". And so I did. I closed my eyes, and just let my thoughts chase each other over and over and follow any path they wanted to until I settled down enough. It worked. I promptly forgot to do it any subsequent days.

I remember the phrase "LALAKINGS" though. Just popped into my head unbidden. I enjoy picking the threads of fate, so to speak. randomness is baked into everything, we are all on The Drunkard's Walk, sometimes going with it takes you somewhere you wouldn't get without it. So I take the time to be whimsical, or nonsensical sometimes. I impart more meaning to actions than they deserve because hey- it means something to someone, right? Why not this, why not to me?

So I did a quick Spotify search for the phrase lalakings. I had an inkling I could find something music related to it, and lo and behold, I hit upon a truly impressive playlist of some, frankly, insanely good hiphop. Shoutout Aeron Medina, if you ever read this know you have great taste.

Hev Abi was the second artist on the playlist, right after Coast Contra (Another high quality pick tbh, give them a listen).

I don't know if I would have picked Filipino Rap to be my new obsession, but I'll be damned if Walang Alam hasn't been in heavy rotation lately.

I'm no stranger to quote unquote foreign music, even in this series- Todo De Ti was featured earlier. Laisses Tomber Les Filles. I loved Telepatia when it came out. The Spark is blowing up as we speak. I'm an Ikimono Gakari Stan, I know Yelle by heart. PLEASE GO LISTEN TO TALCO, Italian Ska is the truth, weirdly. Connor Price's Globe series gave me some great hiphop artists to listen to in other countries and languages.

But strangely I haven't hit on any southeast asia, any pacific islander fare. Nothing to really

There's something so. Chill about Walang Alam. It's got credibility. I hear this and I'm like yeah. This guy is sad. He's sad in a different language which makes him EXTRA sad because i didn't even hear sad words to clue me in! He has poor wet meow meow energy via voice alone. Truly incredible.

I enjoy the acoustic approach to the song. Acoustic music is musical shorthand for more intimate, more emotional. your sound has less reach, so we know it's just for us. Maybe it hits different knowing it's private. Vulnerable.

I've been thinking a lot about sadness. How to deal with it. I feel like I can only feel my emotions incorrectly. Like some dumb ogre stomping around breaking things. I'm so angry all the time and I don't have anywhere to put it. I don't want to burden people. Lord knows I've done enough of that. But you can't hold the hurt and do anything else, I'm finding.

So how do you turn it into roses, or whatever. You talk about it right? We're hardwired to be helped by the talking. But how, and to who, and how much is too much, and hey don't forget you're intruding on their personal wellbeing by being unwell at them.

You are a tire fire, but ouroboros'd back around at myself. It won't shut off though so I'm trying to bushwhack through it. Bear with me, under construction, etc.

I think this song is the good kind of sad. Where even though no solution has been presented, something of value was gained. Reflection? Perspective? A sick single? Whatever it is, Hev Abi seems changed and resolved by the end.

The tiny pop of english at the end is a nice touch too. very "moon in japanese is different, more evocative and mystical" somehow. Like yes fellow musicians this is a big time music artist he has mainstream america appeal there's english words here. I don't know, I think the intentional choice for the last few bars to be different gives that resolved feeling mroe weight- the words literally change at the end of the song.

It's quiet. It's reflective. It's tight, too, at 3 minutes almost on the dot (Still not optimized for streams and with a full song structure, so I consider it a dub)

I don't have a lot on this one today. I wrote like 70% of this like 2 weeks ago and then just stalled out. But I finished writing something. Allegedly this is progress.

Just remember. You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love

[frickingnerd]

I came here to make you waste your time on me V-chan 😈😈 MUAHAHAHAHA

Okay okay, i read again the Danganronpa asks and now im ready to make you my interrogation 🕴️im curious

Did you have a character you hated at first, and then fell in love with? Who and why?

Which character would you hypothetically die for?

What is your favorite aspect of Danganronpa?

What is your honest opinion on the end of V3?

Love u V-chan <3

jokes on you, moonie: my time is never wasted when it's about you! muhahaha! 😈

i'm putting this under a cut because this might be a bit long--

i fucking HATED kokichi when i first played v3! there are characters like hifumi, hiyoko or yasuhiro that i dislike, but i can mostly avoid them. but i genuinely hated kokichi with a burning passion and now he's my second fav character-- 👉🏻👈🏻 i think i didn't quite understand his character at first and that's what made me hate him. to be fair, he lies a lot, so it's hard to know what is the truth and what is a lie. but i think i get him now and i like him a lot! heck, i even relate to the guy (red flag, i know 😔✌🏻). but i do love him, as he's morally grey. he isn't purely good or evil. he has layers to him and i like those type of characters (shoutout to nagito, my number one. he's morally grey too--)

i have a lot of characters that i love, but i wouldn't actually die for most of my favs. so i had to think a bit and i'll have to go with chiaki! i feel like she's similar to me that i feel like dying for someone who's like me would feel like i'm sorta still there in spirit? if that makes sense? but she's also a precious pure bean that deserved to live and be happy--

my favorite aspect of danganronpa... honestly, the characters! they are done so well. like, i love how over the top they are while also feeling human. they are interesting, they are likeable, they just carry the whole franchise. without interesting characters, danganronpa wouldn't work. if you never grew attached and cared about the people who are killing and being killed, then nothing in this game would work.

as for my opinion on the ending of v3... tbh, i did predict something along those lines happening (everything being a reality show). or rather, i had my own spin on the idea, so when i saw what v3 did with that idea, i didn't like it as much as what i came up with in my head. but over all, i think if i were to replay the game now, i'd like it more than before. it's not perfect, but it did grow on me!

[endusviolence]

Magnus Hirschfeld was a eugenicist. I suggest you read Racism and the Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer, a historian of queer and trans people in Nazi Germany, before you go writing posts praising him. He literally advocated for the sterilizing of the "feeble-minded", but oh, he has such a "fabulous mustache"!

Yes, he was. I really should have addressed this in my previous post. In my defense, this is a side topic that requires a lot of elaboration and to do so in that post would've derailed the point. Let's have that elaboration now, shall we?

For those who are unaware, eugenics is a set of beliefs and practices created with the goal of improving the genetic quality of a population. Versions of its practices have kind of always existed, but the term itself was coined by a British polymath named Francis Galton. The problem with it is it's scientific racism. From its start, it was meant as a method of "racial improvement" in society. Galton genuinely believed that all people with African roots were "two grades below Anglo-Saxtons in intelligence and ability." I've not even mentioned yet that Galton created eugenics under the belief that we didn't need to know how the mechanism of hereditary work to see its results. The entire practice was and is an uninformed pseudoscience that always focused more on racial traits than trying to find any truth based in reality.

Eugenics is often considered a Nazi thing because they really loved using it (see the mass sterilization and the Lebensborn program), but reality is that most nations (especially Western nations) have utilized eugenics in one way or another since its inception. In the US, for example, hundreds of thousands underwent compulsory sterilization during the 20th century to prevent socially undesirable traits, disproportionately affecting non-white populations. Eugenics was also used to help ban most Asian immigrants (except for those from the US's ally Japan or the then-colonized Philippines) from entering the country in the Immigration Act of 1924. Counter movements protesting eugenics made serious waves to dismantle some systems in the 70s and 80s, but prisons and other public institutions will still sterilize especially unruly people.

Magnus Hirschfeld, like many scientists of his time, was influenced by the ideas of eugenics. It's not entirely clear cut as it may seem. For one thing, Hirschfeld mostly rejected the racial hierarchy aspect (part of what made him controversial in his time, actually). He did, however, believe that those with disabilities or other undesirable traits should not reproduce. Sterilization was performed at the Institute (often with transgender patients). I also don't deny that he had his own racist beliefs, and I'll be delighted to read the recommended literature for better insight on this topic. I do not praise him for any of this behavior. In fact, I personally find it absolutely horrifying.

Then, why don't I hold it against him? Simply put, I don't find it productive to completely throw away and forget about important historical figures over controversial beliefs. I think Kaz Rowe put it perfectly in their video on Chevalier d'Eon (another controversial figure in trans history). You don't need to like a historical figure to find them interesting and worthy of study, and a historical figure don't need to be a good person to be queer. Without Hirschfeld and the Institute of Sexology, the early practice of sex reassignment surgery wouldn't have nearly as big, and the transgender people who did receive care from the Institute likely wouldn't have been able to transition. You're allowed to feel complicated things about figures of our past and even hate them for some of their beliefs. But you cannot deny that they do deserve at least a golf clap for the foundations they laid.

[sleuthy-scientist]

Dead Men Don't Talk

*Just a quick, random one shot I wrote about a letter Douglas Bailey leaves for Emily.

Hope it's not too out of character I have only watched the first 2 episodes of this season.

Enjoy🙃*

Emily,

I am such an idiot and I know you will never forgive me when you find out the truth. That someone like you would ever be able to trust me again. I hate knowing I will disappoint you and cause you pain.

You were right, you have been right every step of the way. The things your theorized, the decisions you profiled. You Emily Prentiss are amazing.

I wish I had been brave enough to go against my orders from above. That I had listened to your insight instead of believe my own inexperienced opinions.

Obviously if you are reading this I am dead. I can guarantee you its through no fault of your own. I've seen firsthand how much you care and empathize, the dedication and effort you put forth.

You gave me the benefit of the doubt, you kept giving me chances to listen to you and make the right choices, follow the proper strategies to end this.

I thought I knew better, that I could handle it, that I had everything under control. I thought I saw the big picture and all the little details needed to make the FBI more efficient. But I was wrong, I got trying to translate my knowledge and skills where they didn't belong. I focused on the stupid details, listened to the wrong people, instead of who and what really mattered.

I know how this story ends for me, and I don't want you to feel guilty or place blame on yourself. I know without a doubt in my mind you did everything you possibly could to save me. That when people are in danger, you try and save everyone, even those not worth saving.

You will beat Sicarius, bring down his network and allies. I know because that's who are. You are a good person Emily, you will outwit him. You truly encompass and surpass the qualities the FBI stands for. I have never met anyone like you. Anyone so selfless, loyal, brave, strong, smart, gorgeous, and funny.

I get it now, why the rest of the BAU admires you so much. The are lucky to have you, you are a credit to your profession. You deserve to be the director of the FBI, to be running the show. Because you know how who people are and what they need. You don't put your ego and opinions above what is right or just.

You never wanted the accolades, attention, or applause and appreciation. You just wanted to make the world a better and safer place. I hate that you didn't get the credit you deserved and were used as a scape goat for the things you had no hand in. You should never have been used like that, by anyone. I know you don't want or need it, but I hope you get the credit and recognition you've more than earned.

Knowing you was everything. I can't believe what a dick I was to you. The political bullshit I used to believe was right and necessary. The way I tried to strong arm you without giving you the resources you needed and deserved to do your job.

I learned my lesson the hard way, I hope the Attorney General and other higher ups don't have to. I hope they finally listen to what you have to say and can take their own biases, egos, and selfishness out of the equation. You and your team are the ones with the knowledge and experience needed most now.

I didn't understand before what you and your people do. What your jobs entail, how you all manage to handle the ugly violence you deal with everyday. To be strong and brave enough to look evil in the eye and stop it. To try and get something resembling justice for those left behind.

I'm sorry Emily for this, for that, for everything I can't explain to you. I'm glad atleast if I'm dead I won't be there to see you lose you faith in me. You believed in me, and saw me in a way no body ever has before. You thought I was a better man than I gave myself credit for.

I hope my death isn't in vain, that it makes amends for my actions and helps you end this madness. That you get the bad guy. My greatest desire is that you find love and happiness for yourself. You deserve the world Emily, I wish I had been a better man to be able to give it to you.

Sincerely,

Douglas

P.S. For what it's worth, I stand with you Emily and the decisions you make going forward. I know they will be the right ones.

[staticseasons]

Just some proof that I'm legit and I wasn't lying about the creation of Static Seasons. My characters pre-date some other indie characters. So if anyone claims that I stole characters concepts, they are wrong. Especially when my characters came first, I just didn't show them publicly until now.

Why did I wait until now to show off my characters? Well.. The earlier models were kinda derpy looking and were not up to my standards. I knew I could do better at the time and nowadays I have more experience under my belt. Read more to learn about the inspirations behind Richard Pandora.

Fun Fact: Richard is actually based off of the phantom of the opera. That's why he has a mask in the first place. It wasn't a thing that I made on a whim, most of my writing and character designs is thoroughly thought out.

As for the ringmaster idea I probably got that from Set it off, Panic at the Disco or Dagames. Two bands I love and listen to pretty frequently and one artist I've been following for years. I wouldn't be surprised if one of those songs embedded themselves in my subconscious and I just made a character out of those songs. That's how inspiration and creativity works. Isn't it wonderful?

I took heavy inspiration from the song, As The Lights Go Out by Dagames. It is such a heart-wrenching song, I always wanted to do it justice. Then I thought to myself, why not make a character using some of the lyrics and the rest was history. I love Richard's character and won't be changing his characterization any time soon.

Sorry I had to peel back the curtain and reveal some of the magic behind my characters but I kinda have to be truthful about this. Though on the other hand, I love showing the process behind a character. I have no problem giving credits or props to the artists I love. Without their songs my characters wouldn't exist, what I'm doing isn't special. Anyone can create characters and I encourage creativity.

My talents shines though my hardwork and dedication. I'm confident in my work and writing, It will speak for its self. It has merit without me having to advocate for it. I know my work and talent will stand on its own, I don't need to push down others or bully them. People who do bully others are deeply insecure themselves.

If there's one thing I hate most, it's people accusing me of things I didn't do and smearing my character or reputation. I have the foresight of seeing this character concept issue becoming a problem in the future. So I'm nipping this in the bud to prevent unnecessary dramas later on. ( and future headaches for me. )

Great minds think alike, that's what happened here. I never want to become egotistical or holier-than-thou when it comes to my writing. Some writers in the this community think because they are some big shot that gives them the right to belittle others. When people become like this, they go on to bully smaller artists and writers for having similar ideas. Vanity and entitlement is poison for the soul, it makes people rotten from inside. Which is exactly why I don't subscribe to that notion.

This is not me saying I'm better than anyone else in my field, far from it. I'm glad that my peers are finding success, they deserve it and earn that success through their talents. It's good to have healthy competition, it makes us strive to do better creatively. If you are reading support others and what they create. It takes a lot of guts and courageous to putting your work out there, Especially on the internet.

This video is just to prove that 1. I'm not copying and 2. I'm not stealing. In the grand scheme of things, It doesn't matter who came first, I don't care if I did or not. Let people create what they want to create. This is video is to pervert that one person saying " You stole this design from [ insert popular show here ] "

Well I'm sorry to break it to you friend.. but I'm not the first person to come up with a clown character design, I doubt I'll be the last. My point is I don't own the idea of clown characters in their entirety, I just own my specific character. Will this stop people from making comparisons between the characters? No, of course not. This is the internet after all. Sometimes people just suck, that's life unfortunately.

Hey on the bright side, It gives me peace of mind knowing I addressed it fully and to the best of my abilities. This to prevent further speculation and spreading of rumors. To put it bluntly, I had some crappy friends in the past try to claim ownership of my characters, so this isn't my first rodeo when dealing with this subject. Which is why I'm hitting this issue dead on this time around.

This is why it's always a good idea to save your work and creative process, for cases like these. Hope this helps and always stay creative. This is always going to be pinned, just in case.

[sadfragilegirl]

It's been 365 days...

365 days of heartaches and heartbreaks...

365 days of never ending nightmares that's going to consume me for the rest of my life...

365 days of tears streaming down to my eyes until I let out a heart shattering scream to the heaven's above...

365 days of remembering the happy memories that haunted me after that incident happened a year ago...

365 days of the moment I've been caught in a bloody red melancholy spiral. A bloody scarlet red melancholy spiral to be exact...

365 days of when the happy things in my life are slowly taking away from me forever...

365 days of the moment I was trapped into a black void that's covered with red threads that I won't escape...A scarlet red threads to be exact...

365 days of trying to fight between those people who put to blame on a wrong person who didn't deserve to be punished. And no matter I tried to tell the real truth to them, they will always turned their backs away from me, stick to the believing the deception and lies and put the blame to the wrong person who doesn't deserve such punishment and hate because their hearts inside were stubborn like stone...

365 days of suffering from a depression after I saw this heart shattering memory that it will probably eating myself alive...

365 days of the moment I clenched my fists while holding a broken shard glass until both of my hands are bleeding and covered with blood because I can't stop remembering this bloody red memory that it kept disrupted me to go forward to the bright future...A bloody scarlet red memory to be exact...

365 days of never ending sayings of "I miss you"s because of waiting for you to come back and return with new music that I was anticipating...But I know that it's getting too long and I was too impatient that I know that I might cry again and remembering those past happy memories of you for too much...

365 days of looking at the stars that reminds me of you...

365 days of watching a field of red roses that it will always reminds me of you...

365 days of looking of those memorabilias of you as my comfort while waiting for you to come back...

And 365 days of watching different kinds of sunsets so I can ease my sorrows and pains, even it will take years to recover myself from this red trauma from a year ago...A scarlet red trauma to be exact...

But most of all...

Those 365 days of remembering of the memories of you until that tragedy happened, will be more memorable to you...Even if it kills me and left an scar that it could never be removed for the rest of my life...

Because...

Even in the next 365 days, I will forever always remember this dream...A dream that it became a lifetime trauma that my life will never ever be the same again...

And that is how I named this lifetime trauma, known as your departure due to the "scandal" that you didn't deserve to be suffered from that tragic fate like this...

And the name is...

Scarlet Dreams

And I'm already traumatized enough...Once and for all.

(Behind this writing is under "Keep Reading")

Today, April 10, 2024...It's been 365 days since Ravi, the member of the Kpop boy group VIXX. And by tomorrow, April 11, 2024, is the 1st Anniversary of Scarlet Dreams.

It's been a year and it's the most painful journey of my entire life that it changed drastically forever.

From missing Ravi every day to fighting between people who put the blame to him...And no matter what I told them to stop believing the lies and read the whole truth, they would rather scoff off and just continue to believe the lies and put the blame to the wrong person who didn't deserve to suffer because their hearts are too stubborn.

And after all that happening after Ravi left VIXX, I slowly don't feel like myself at all. Especially when I don't feel like listening to new Kpop music for A FREAKING YEAR because I was too traumatized after the occurred events that's going to haunt me... Especially the triggering moments that it made me want to leave this place for a while. Plus, it made me slowly that I don't feel like doing a fangirling over Kpop anymore because the Kpop world right now is too much drama and hatred more than ever that I even saw tragic moments also.

And after so much happening in the Kpop world, I decided to discover something and that's how I started listening to Ukrainian music. In the end, it worked and it became my new favorite genre. I've been listening to Ukrainian music for a year now this year so

Plus, I was hyper-focus about those two new comforts: Honkai Star Rail and Love and Deepspace. Honkai Star Rail became a new favorite because of the concept and the RPG game concept is turn based RPG. For Love and Deepspace, which is an otome combined RPG game, is all thanks to watching their gameplays and walkthroughs on YouTube and that's when I fell in love with Xavier, which is my favorite love interest and began to start playing with due to an event of getting a free 5 star lunar card. (But I know that actually...I love all 3 of them.)

And that's how and why I don't feel like keeping new updates about Kpop and doing my Kpop fangirl life for now and give them a break.

Please understand this my very painful decision for the sake of my well being, my physical health, my mental health and my emotional health.

I hope you have a wonderful day and have a Happy 1st Anniversary of Scarlet Dreams.

With Love,

Queennie 🌹