#Y’know because clouds are in the sky

[bingergrave]

Am I cooking or is this just Webkinz Grey Gunk

[ayyy-pee]

𝕆𝕌𝕋𝕃𝔸𝕎

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Part Two of Outlaw Series

Pairing: Outlaw!Suguru Geto x Female Reader Genre: Western AU WC: 8.7k Summary:

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?” “Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud. It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him. “What about you?” His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?” You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

Story Warning: Train robbery, hostage situation, lying and scheming, profanity bc bitch it's me??, dub-con, Suguru has a corruption kink, needy downbad Suguru, "virgin" reader, guns, smut, blowjob, riding, fingering, spit, thinking about spitting, i love spit, dirty fantasies, titty sucking probably, using ropes, hair pulling (lmfaooooo), threats of violence, dirty talk, inexperienced reader, spit!, overstimulation, humiliation kink, Suguru is kinda pathetic, actually real pathetic, don't get your hopes up idk

Artist Credit: @/tsumusbeloved (on twitter)

A/N: FINALLYYYYY. This has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 months!!! I hope yall enjoy!!!

Tags: @syubseokie @yasu-1234 @cassayeee @glmpsfs @struxkbylightning @aotdump @oidloid @sunnysdiarythoughts @stillseren @lovebittenbyevans @avaatara @elliesndg @luv-kae @megtheebimbo @buttercupblu143 @toffeebrat @kaqua@moggleatlife @candy-s72 @sukunadckrider @xixflower @apchmon

It’s the shrill screech of the metal meeting metal on the train tracks that Suguru enjoys most about his work. How this massive tank of metal carrying so many people can just fly across the country, providing beautiful views of miles and miles of desert sands and mountains. The wildlife roams free on the frontier without a care in the world. And the train just keeps going, filling the sky with thick curls of black smoke.

Yeah, this train has many people on it.

Which means, this train has plenty of goods that will soon be his.

“Ah, you dropped your hat, boss.” A smooth voice speaks behind Suguru, holding open the train door as one other clambers in. Suguru kindly grabs his hat from the man, placing it atop his head as he watches his partner take the last person’s hand, lifting them inside.

It’s a woman, small and with strawberry blonde hair. She grabs onto the man before her. The disgust is clear on her face as her eyes roam along his body.

“Couldn’t pick another day to wear no shirt, Larue?” She complains, spreading a small cloud of dust as she brushes her clothes off.

Larue shrugs, chuckling lightly while he closes the train door. The rushing roar of the winds finally subsides. “It’s hot as all hell outside, Manami. Why not be shirtless? Besides, it gives everyone something spectacular to gawk at.” He motions towards his chest where his new set of ink lies – two hearts, one where each of his nipples are.

“A drunken bet gone right, if you ask me,” Larue had said the night after. “They’re gonna love these at the whorehouse.”

“If you two’re finished…” Suguru begins. Both Larue and Manami straighten up. “I wanna get in ‘n outta here. No funny business. Larue, take the back of the train. Better for you to be there in case the conductor gets any ideas. Grab what ‘ya can get your hands on – jewels, shoes, money. Don’t matter.” Suguru taps his chin in thought, running through his mental list to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. “Oh! And don’t forget to check the bars for any spoons or forks. Y’know what that silver’s worth. Me ‘n Manami will take the front of the train.”

Larue nods, no further instruction needed and Manami smiles next to him excitedly. She quickly shuffles over to Suguru’s side, looping her arm through his and Suguru rolls his eyes before slipping his arm out of her hold. Manami shoots him a pouty look before she quickly recovers, folding her arms over her chest.

“Alright, Boss. I’m ready.” She says with a hushed tone. Larue gives one more nod before he turns around and heads the opposite way. He slides the door slightly ajar, peering inside and just after he enters and the door has been shut and locked, Suguru and Manami hear the muffled shrieks of the passengers in the car.

“Hands in the fucking air! This is a stick up!”

Suguru peers down at Manami who is already staring up at him with eager eyes. And it takes everything in Suguru to not roll his eyes in response. She really gets on his last nerve.

‘I gotta get rid of her after this one,’ he thinks as he moves past the woman and into the opposite end of the train.

He slips through the door, closing it quietly behind Manami once she’s in. No one bothers to look up when they come in and Suguru counts his lucky stars that this will be easier than he anticipated. They make their way along the aisle, offering soft smiles to the passengers that happen to look up as they pass. Suguru thinks there’s nothing but a bunch of carefree monkeys too relaxed and stupid as all hell on this train. They don’t even know what’s coming and if they know what’s good for them, they won’t bother to fight back when they find out.

He lets Manami do the work of maintaining a mental checklist of every item worth its salt in this train car. This is where he’ll leave Manami to do her part. Then Suguru will take the final car where the stragglers usually reside. Larue is already taking care of everything in the back. When he’s done, he’ll pile up all the goods in an empty car and then make his rounds to grab what Manami and Suguru collect.

When they reach the end of the current car, Suguru turns to Manami who is already reaching into her blouse. She beams, eyes locked on Suguru as she slowly pulls out a pretty little Colt’s revolver. Her lips pull up at the corners, a sly grin on her face. If it’s meant to be alluring to Suguru, it’s not working. In fact it’s having the opposite effect. It’s so annoying, the way her pupils dilate when she looks at him. It’s only been a few months since Manami joined their group, but it’s only getting worse for Suguru. She spends half her time trying to seduce him and failing. And it’s not that Manami is unattractive. She’s a very beautiful woman, but she’s not exactly Suguru’s type.

He’s looking for someone a bit more…inexperienced when it comes to this life of crime. Someone he can mold into his ideal woman, untouched by the roughness that west has to offer. Manami has been doing this for far too long, and already has habits that consistently get under Suguru’s skin. She’d never interest him that way.

The pink haired woman flashes Suguru her gun, pointing her chin towards the last car as a signal for him to go on. Suguru nods, spinning on his heel and heading towards his destination. And just in time too, because he hears the door on the other end of the train car close and he knows Larue has finished and has come to assist Manami.

The train car slides shut behind Suguru right as he hears the passengers scream in the car behind him. It’s louder than the first instance and catches the attention of the passengers in his car who now stare at him with wide eyes, mouths agape like a sea of fish.

Suguru rubs the nape of his neck, frowning. Then, offering a goofy grin, he mutters, “Ah well…” He reaches behind him, wrapping his nimble fingers around the cool, wooden handle tucked into his waistband. He whips out his revolver, the sun glaring off of the fancy gold weapon as Suguru aims it at the passengers who all shriek in terror. The women clutch their jewels. The men hold onto their women. And Suguru? He laughs raucously before he barks out, “Put ‘em up!”

- - - - - -

It’s a little surprising how easily the heist goes, but Suguru tries not to give it too much thought. You start thinking something’s gonna go wrong and it damn sure will. While Manami is guiding passengers into the back cars, Larue has the conductor held hostage, locked away with threats of a bullet to his skull unless he continues driving. He’d only shown his face and quickly hid away in his cabin when Suguru told him to use his fucking brain unless he wanted it splattered across the window.

Now, Suguru finds himself roaming the cabin to see if there are any stragglers. And there is one. A very beautiful woman, at that. There you sit, in the last seat of the train car. He slowly makes his way over to you. Suguru thinks you must be some type of saloon girl. Your pretty little dress and waist neatly cinched in a leather corset is the giveaway. He glances over his shoulder, just to be sure this cabin is empty, only to find that it truly is only himself and you left. He hates having to wrangle the stragglers. That’s Manami and Larue’s job. And Suguru hates it even more when they’re not doing it.

He tightens the grip on his gun, turning to give you an earful until his eyes meet yours. They’re so wide and glistening, like you’re on the verge of tears. Your lips are quivering, your bottom lip protruding in a pout. It reminds him of the look Manami gave him just before the heist started. Except when coming from you, for some reason, it’s bringing out a different reaction. 

His heart rate quickens, and Suguru’s hands suddenly feel clammy and not from the heat in this train car. He can feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and he has to swallow to quell the dryness that’s forming in his throat. Then he’s tucking his weapon away into his holster and moving towards you.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” Suguru speaks calmly as he takes the seat in front of you. You peer up at him, with apparent fear in your eyes and he wants nothing more than to see that look disappear. Usually, he’d use force to get you out and rounded up with the rest of the passengers. He’s not sure why, but there’s something about you that makes Suguru want to take care of you. “Why didn’t you leave with the rest of the crowd?” He questions.

You’re fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in your lap, visibly shaken even as Suguru removes his hat and sets it on the seat in front of you before he sits down.

“I–” you clear your throat and bite down on your lip, seemingly to calm your nerves. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, ma’am,” he tells you softly, reassuring you. “Just wonderin’.” Suguru takes this time to drink in your features – how soft you look, the way your body so beautifully fills that dress of yours, how you’ve got a face that will be burned into his memory long after this encounter.

And for some reason, it also feels as if it was burned into his memory long before this encounter. There’s a familiarity about you that Suguru can’t quite place. He’s certain he’s seen your face somewhere. He had been through many saloons and brothels in his time traveling the frontier. Perhaps he had run into you in one of the many establishments he frequented? 

No. No, Suguru would remember if he saw a woman who looked like you in any of those places. You would have easily stood out in the crowd. He would have called you up to his room on any of those nights. 

You bite down on your lip as you stare at Suguru. As afraid as you look, you don’t break eye contact. To see you so stricken with fear, and yet you steadily look him in the eye without blinking. You show courage even when faced with danger, and it does something to him. 

The look on your face has him picturing all sorts of things about you and he doesn’t even know your name.

“I was afraid,” you mutter quietly. 

Thankfully so, because Suguru was just about to begin imagining a life outside of crime with you. Which is shocking in and of itself. Three minutes of simply staring at you had him visualizing a future on the prairie hanging laundry on the line while you fed the cattle.

‘Keep it together.’

“Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt nobody,” Suguru reassures you again. He tries to calm your nerves with a smile which seems to work because he sees you visibly exhale. You return his gesture with a small smile of your own, and his imagination runs wild once more.

“Promise?” You ask, Suguru’s smile widens. 

‘Cute,’ he thinks. He wants to see more of those. “I promise, sweetheart.”

He can hear the way you huff, something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. And Suguru finds himself becoming more and more infatuated with you as he keeps the conversation going.

“Gettin’ train tickets ain’t easy. Where ya headed?”

“Just a few towns over. Goin’ to visit family,” you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud.

It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If you’ll let him.

“What about you?”

His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? “Me?”

You nod quickly. “I know you’re…” You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, “...an outlaw.”

He leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while he purses his lips together. His gaze is locked onto you because he wonders if you’re up to something. If you’re not as sweet and innocent as you look. But when you lean back and flutter your lashes at him, he begins to doubt it. That sweet face of yours is a rare one to see on this side of the wild west; beautiful and unscarred. You don’t look like you’ve been exposed to anything more dangerous than a thunderstorm. And it’s arousing. The air of innocence that you carry has Suguru shifting in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling tighter.

This is exactly what he’s been wanting. Someone opposite of Manami, someone who is interested in his life, but not involved with crime in the least. As far as he can tell, you’re clean as a whistle. And Suguru likes to think he’s good at reading people.

“Never seen a outlaw before?” He drawls. You shake your head, back to messing around nervously with your dress.

“Never,” you answer softly, batting those pretty, long lashes at him. “Only seen ‘em on signs. Wanted…dead, or alive.”

Oh, you really are sheltered.

“Well, now you’ve seen one in person.” Suguru combs his fingers through his dark tresses, grinning like his criminal status is one to be proud of. To him, he supposes it is. “What d’ya think?”

You do that lip biting thing that Suguru is beginning to realize he finds cute. Maybe it’s a nervous tick, but this time it seems it’s to be you holding back a smile. Everything you do is cute to him. Everything you do is sweet, innocent, arousing.

“I…” You lean forward in your seat again, and whether you realize it or not, it gives Suguru a perfect view of the swell of your breasts. It’s a struggle to keep his focus on your face when your skin looks so smooth, and unmarred, perfect. Those plush lips of yours whisper, “...I think it’s exciting.”

He can only think one thought in this moment.

He wants to ruin you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s excitin’ about it?” He asks, though he has an idea what it is. The travel, not being tied down to anyone or anything, the freedom this life provides. It’s what they all say when they try to make small talk. “Pretty girl like you can’t possibly know nothin’ about this life.”

You inhale deeply, leaning back in your seat and Suguru watches closely, the way your chest rises and falls with the breath. “Well, I never seen a outlaw in person. Surely never spoke to one. And…” You purse your lips together, like you’re contemplating if you should say the next thing. But you do anyway. “I just never thought a outlaw could be so pretty.”

His eyes widen, the corners of his lips rising with a goofy grin. “Pretty?” He chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair again. “You really think so?”

He’s been called a lot of things, but pretty is not one of them.

“Yep. Look at ya.” You stand, moving quickly to cross the small gap between you both and take a seat next to him. You reach for his arm, then hesitate, pulling back for a second. You peer up at Suguru, silently asking permission and he nods. Your fingers ghost along his forearm, over his bicep, along his neck where his Adam's apple bobs with a gulp, and then your hand is cupping his cheek. Your trail leaves behind a trail of goosebumps.

And Suguru’s pants grow tighter.

Suguru has had his fair share of women and men alike during his time as a felon. But you’re particularly tempting. He’s not sure he’s ever wanted someone as badly as he wants you right now and it’s been all of ten minutes in this train car together. But any minute now, his crew is going to come through those doors and tell him they’re ready to go. And then Suguru will have to leave and the chances of him seeing you ever again are slim to none. 

But on the bright side, the chances of him seeing you again are slim to none. It’s a little sudden, but you seem like you want him with the way you’re feeling him up right about now. Maybe you'd let him bury his cock as deep as he can go, fuck you until you’re screaming his name, begging and crying on his cock. Then he’ll fill you with his seed, maybe leave a baby in you to remember him by if you’re lucky and then he’ll grab his spoils with Larue and the rest and go. Then he'll never see you again. 

This desert is far and wide. He’d have you today, then never have to face you again for the rest of his life. A woman like you? You'll be just fine. A pretty face and an even prettier smile. Though he thinks you're a bit naive. Have to be to be sitting here chatting with him like he’s some gentleman you met on a leisurely trip to see your relatives. Regardless, there will be some poor fool out there that'll be happy to have you after he's had his way with you.

‘Weren’t you just daydreaming about settling down with this woman?’

“Pretty eyes,” you hum, pulling Suguru from his filthy fantasies. “Nice skin, pretty lips. Just…very pretty.” Your thumb caresses his skin and his eyes can't help but notice the way your gaze is locked to his lips. He pokes his tongue out, watching your eyes widen just slightly at the motion, as he runs the wet muscle along his lips. And he’s right back in his head, thinking of all the ways he could have you.

There’s no mistaking the thick tension filling the room at this moment. Like a lightning bolt hitting the same spot repeatedly. Each stroke of your fingers along his cheek only intensifies the mood. Suguru’s lips curl into a teasing smirk, and yours into one that matches. “Why do I feel like you're trouble?” He says.

Your smile widens, and like a magnet, Suguru finds himself slowly being drawn closer and closer to you. Even as a soft laugh falls from your lips, his mind is wiped clean of all thoughts that don't consist of you.

“Me? That’s funny comin’ from a outlaw like yourself,” you mutter just as you close the distance between you, pressing your lips teasingly to Suguru's. They barely touch, truly a ghost of a touch but Suguru still has to swallow down the moan that damn near bursts from his chest the second your mouth was close enough to his.

You pull away suddenly, covering your lips as you lean away, your eyes wide with worry. “‘m sorry.”

“What are you apologizin’ for?” Suguru asks, scooting closer.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me…I just…” You’re back to fidgeting with your dress again, and Suguru places a large hand over yours to stop the movement. “You’re a criminal, and I’m just me. I shouldn’t even be talkin’ to you.” You stare up at him with wide eyes, and fuck he wants you.

You look so sweet, so pure looking at him like that. And he feels a little like a piece of shit because while you’re looking at him with probably innocent thoughts floating around in your head, he’s thinking about how he’d love nothing more than to cover your face in his seed.

“I’m not a bad guy,” Suguru lies easily. “Have I done bad things?” He shrugs, because he’s done way too many terrible things to count. Better not to give a real answer to that one. “But I’m enjoyin’ our conversation. The kiss was just a perk. Wouldn’t mind it if it happened again. I’d gladly accept it.”

“But…I don’t even know you…”

‘All the better,’ is what he wants to say, but instead, he tells you, “And that’s fine. Listen–” he squeezes your hand gently. “Best part of bein’ a criminal is that I just do what I want. Don’t gotta ask permission for nothin’.”

Your eyes swim with curiosity. “It’s that easy?”

“Yep. Do what makes ya feel good, sweetheart.”

You still don’t look convinced, and if this next question doesn’t work, Suguru will have no choice but to tie you up and dump you in the other train car with the rest of the hostages. He doesn’t have much time to waste trying to get you just to kiss him.

“Lemme ask ya…did you like kissin’ me?”

He knows he should be worrying about the heist, not some pretty face distracting him from the job. But when you speak again, he tells himself the job can go to hell.

“Yes…but…I got scared. I– I’ve only done some things with a man…” you admit quietly. “And I’m not too good at it.”

Fuck. He has to have you.

“That’s not a problem, sweetheart,” he reassures you, and you beam.

Your hand grasps onto Suguru’s, squeezing tightly. “Really?”

He nods. “I don’t got much time before I gotta leave, but I can show ya some things real quick.”

“You’ll show me? How to do things?” Your voice is eager, so ready. Suguru is finding it hard to contain how much you’re turning him on right now. “Like kissin’ and…y’know other stuff?”

“What kinda stuff?” He asks, because he wants you to say it. Wants to know how far you’re willing to go if you’ve never done a damn thing before. You pinch your lips together, turning your head away shyly. But Suguru gently cups your chin, turning you to look at him again.

“What kinda stuff?” He repeats. “Tell me.”

“Stuff…that makes a man…y’know…”

He grins, tauntingly. “Enlighten me,” he whispers.

“Stuff to make a man…” you worry your lip between your teeth. “...feel good.”

Oh hell. 

What type of good deeds has Suguru done to find himself here? With someone as virtuous as you, who is asking him of all people to show you how to please him? He has half a mind to tell you no. He’s got shit to do and his partners are bound to come looking for him any minute. But his cock is screaming within the confines of his pants to get into those undergarments of yours. And there’s no argument to be had here. 

He’s listening to his dick.

Suguru crashes his lips to yours, swallowing up the yelp that escapes you from the sudden kiss. “I’ll teach ya whatever ya want, pretty girl.” He groans into your mouth. 

He kisses you hard, but slowly, giving you time to catch up. You’re a little slow to pick up, but you get there. Your lips slot against his, fingers slipping into his hair and holding on tight, making Suguru groan into the kiss once more.

“We don’t got a lotta time,” he breathes against you.

You nod, pulling away to look up at him. “What d’ya want?”

You.

He needs you – bent over the passenger seat and holding onto the bar sitting atop it while he fucks you from behind. He needs you sitting on his face, needs your hand around his length. But he’s looking at your face again, so desperate for instruction. Looks at your lips, swollen from the little bit of kissing you’ve been doing. And he knows exactly what he needs in this moment.

“Ever had a cock in your mouth?” He shifts, sitting back against the seat.

You shake your head.

“Ever touched one?”

Another shake of your head.

“What have you done?”

You hum, thinking only for a short time before you answer. “Kissed.”

What fucking luck.

Doesn’t matter what they score off the train today. This is the biggest reward of all.

“Good,” Suguru says, tugging your hand until you stand. With a grin, he guides you to the floor until you’re sitting up on your knees. “There won’t be another man who’s had ya then. I’ll show ya how to please me, make me feel good.” 

You nod, and Suguru can’t believe how easy this was as he fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. He yanks his pants down, along with his underwear. Only to his knees. He wants to be able to get up quickly if needed. Suguru’s dick sits against his stomach, fat and long, with a harsh red tip that leaks with precum. He peers down at you, your eyes honed in on his length.

“Touch it,” he whispers encouragingly.

Your eyes meet as you move, your hands wrapping around Suguru tenderly, pulling a hiss from him. You hold his length like it’s a foreign object, and he supposes it is to you since it’s the first time you’ve done. Suguru grits his teeth, bringing a hand up to your fist. You’re simply touching him and his dick is throbbing in your grip.

“Move your hand…up ‘n down,” he tells you. “Like this.” He guides you, helping to move your hand in slow and light pumps until you’ve found a rhythm that works. His head falls back as the pleasure takes over. “Ahhh–shit, just like that, pretty girl.”

“It’s so big…” you sigh, licking your lips as you stroke his cock slowly.

From here, Suguru is certain he has a perfect view of you. Eyes wide and curious while you observe every ridge and vein running along his length. It turns him on beyond measure, his hips jerking upward in your grasp. 

“Damn,” he moans, fucking himself into your hands. For someone with no experience, you hold his dick just right. He never knew a woman’s touch could feel this good, but you’re a natural talent. You stroke him so good, his mouth falls slack as he lets himself enjoy the feeling of your hands around him. But you surprise him, just as you’ve been doing all this time, his eyes snapping open just in time to watch you lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue and lapping up the bead of precum that sits there.

“It’s salty,” you giggle before you kiss down his shaft, bringing your attention to his balls, kissing and licking the two orbs teasingly. Suguru inhales sharply, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sensation makes his head swim with pleasure. Especially when your hand wraps around Suguru’s length again, pumping him up and down, slowly as you continue to lap at his balls.

“You’re already so good at this,” Suguru pants heavily.

“I am?” 

He can hear the excitement in your voice, so eager to please him. It turns him on knowing that you’re trying so hard to make him feel good. He wonders if you can feel his cock throb in your hands.

“So fucking good,” he praises you, loving the way you hum against him.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” You ask sweetly, squeezing your hands around his cock.

“God, please.”

When you take Suguru into the warmth of your mouth, you hum around him, and the vibrations make him shiver, back arching off of the seat. His palm finds the back of your head, his hips rolling up so he can shove his cock as far as possible without hurting you. He’s gentle at first. You’ve never done this before, after all. He wants to give you the time you need to adjust, though he can’t afford to give you too much. Which seems to be just fine, because just like before, you catch on quickly. You take his cock damn near to the base, and you take it so well, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy. 

“Could fuck this pretty little mouth all day,” Suguru grunts, pumping into you. “So goddamn good.” The sound of his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your face has his legs trembling, pleasure shooting straight up his spine. He wants to grab your head and push you down further, make you swallow all of him until he blows his load down your throat, then make you swallow that, too. But he doesn’t want to cum just yet.

He craves more from you. He needs more from you.

You hum again, sending another vibration through him as your fingers come up, caressing his balls. And Suguru squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard not to cum. “Ah– shit, shit!” He pushes at your shoulders, forcing you off of him with a loud and wet pop. You look rather pleased with yourself, smiling when you see his red cheeks and the way he rapidly tries to catch his breath.

Like he noted before. You’re trouble.

“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he gasps, staring at your chin dripping with saliva and his juices. Suguru watches through hooded eyes as you swipe it away. He could watch you on your knees all day, taking his cock down your throat time and time again. But unfortunately, time is not on his side today. He needs to hurry it up.

“C’mere, pretty,” he calls for you, taking your hand. You stand, waiting for your next instruction as Suguru leans forward in his seat. His hands find your waist, pulling you close enough that he can press a kiss to your stomach before he leans back again. “Pull up your skirt for me.”

“Okay…” you agree, shakily. You reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling the layers of fabric as high as it’ll go. Suguru always hated these damn dresses. It’s like digging for gold trying to get through every damn piece of clothing. But eventually, you get to the end, revealing your bare thighs to him. Soft, plush, beautiful. But what he’s truly interested in remains concealed by your underwear.

Suguru swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy, grinning when your thighs tremble just barely. His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent moan. 

Hard to believe you’ve never been touched here. Also, so very arousing to think you’ve never been touched here. He thanks his lucky stars that you’re allowing him to be the first.

He slips his finger into the fabric, his slender fingers quickly finding your slit and sliding along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how soaked you are. He briefly brushes a finger against your entrance, pausing when he feels you tense up.

“Might hurt a little,” he warns as softly as he can manage right now. But you whisper, “go ahead”, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he dips his finger into your pussy, biting back a moan when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. It’s tight, as expected but he moves slowly, pulling back every so often to work his way further.

You whimper above him, squeezing his shoulders as your breaths come rapidly while Suguru pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth, and your brows are knitted together.

You’re enjoying this. 

And he’s enjoying watching you.

Suguru presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. Dark eyes lock with yours as his other hand finds the top of your dress where he hooks his fingers into the cups and pulls it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric and your breath hitches when the air caresses your nipples. Suguru kneads the soft flesh, his thumb swiping across one of the hardened buds. 

“Ahhh, yes,” you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head falls back with a loud gasp as Suguru slips another finger into you. 

“Bein’ real good for me,” he coos. His dick grows painfully harder as he slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit. He’s panting trying to hold himself together while he preps you for what he wants next. Your hips move on their own, riding Suguru’s hand, chasing your high. 

“Feel good?” He grunts, fingers slipping into you over and over, curling inside, and hitting your sweet spot and you can’t help but to gasp quietly each time Suguru touches it. 

“Y-yes, feels incredible,” you whine.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Suguru’s struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of the train car.

“I’m–” you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. You’re close already.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” Suguru’s fingers dip into you faster. His eyes linger on your face as his thumb rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud between your legs. Your eyes flutter closed, mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Suguru’s shoulders tightening so much it stings. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release crashes over you until he can feel your cum dripping down his fingers and into his palm as he keeps pumping into you.

Suguru sighs as he stares at his fingers, slowly pulling them from you. He licks his lips, admiring his slick covered hand.

He’s never taken the time to just enjoy the moment with anyone. Never cared much to please a woman. It’s easier for him to just get himself off and high tail it out of there. No attachment to these ladies, no reason to stick around. But what is it about you that makes him want to see all the ways your body is capable of falling apart? Because it’s a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Outlaw…” you murmur, slipping your undergarments down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. You push Suguru back by the shoulders, lifting your skirt so that you can easily maneuver into his lap. His hands find your hips beneath your dress as you straddle him, and his thumbs caress the soft skin gently.

“Yeah, beautiful?”

So beautiful. He can’t stop staring at you and your eyes, glazed over with desire. You lean forward, the heat from between your legs making Suguru’s length twitch. It lightly taps your core and you gasp. Your hands clutch onto the bar that runs along the top of the train seat, one on each side of his head. Suguru’s palms glide around to your backside, squeezing the flesh of your ass. You brush your nose against his, soft breaths mingling with his as you whisper, “make love to me, outlaw…” just before your lips touch.

And Suguru’s groaning into your mouth, because this kiss is different. It’s hungry, hot, full of want and need. It’s sloppy and rushed, because you’re both aware of the time crunch you’re in. It’s intoxicating, addicting, the way he never wants to stop kissing you. To hell with the heist.

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” Suguru pants, a hand gripping his cock. He can feel the heat of your pussy radiating off of you and it makes him all the more eager to have you.

Your eyes are wide, filled with something Suguru thinks may be excitement. He’s not sure he sees any hesitation or fear behind your eyes. You want him badly, it’s clear as day. He wants you just as badly, if not more. So he positions himself at your entrance, nudging your hole gently with his tip. 

A small whimper slips past your lips, and Suguru kisses you sweetly. “It’s only gonna hurt for a second,” he coos. “Promise…”

He kisses you again, muttering, “I’m pushin’ in…” against your lips.

You close your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as Suguru rolls his hips forward, slowly sinking his tip into your pussy, only stopping when you let out a harsh breath.

“‘S a tight fit,” he murmurs through gritted teeth. An understatement. Your pussy is gripping him with so much force, he’s struggling to breathe. You’re holding him hostage within your walls and the feeling has him tightening his hold on your ass. “You alright?”

Because he wants to make sure it feels good for you, too. Your pleasure is his. Which is a whole new feeling for him in and of itself. He’s aware of how the tables have turned. What started as him wanting to show you ways to please him, turned into him desperate to please you. But he likes it that way.

You nod, moaning quietly when Suguru keeps moving forward. “Ohhh…” 

“God, this pussy is so fuckin’ –” he can’t even finish his sentence. He needs to focus all his attention on not cumming already.

You take him all the way to the base, moaning loudly when you fully sink onto him. Your grip tightens around the bar, steadying yourself as Suguru lifts you by your ass before pulling you back down on him, so slowly. “Fuuuck–” he groans. He thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, slow and controlled, giving you time to adjust to his size. 

But his kisses…they’re rough. Such a contrast to the way he’s fucking you right now. The pleasure is overwhelming to Suguru, and when your tongue slips into his mouth, it’s him that’s whimpering now, thrusting just a little faster, a little harder.

“Damn, you take my cock so good, pretty girl–” he growls into your mouth. “Love the way you ride me.” He smacks your ass hard, eyes falling to your breast, bouncing up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts. He takes one into his mouth, greedily lapping at your nipple, nipping and sucking and loving the way your cries get louder.

“Oh my god, fuck!”

“Ride my cock, pretty. You already do it so good. Wanna see you ride me.” Suguru groans. He releases his hold on you, hands coming up to play with your breasts while you bounce wildly on his dick. He lifts your dress, relishing the view of his length, glistening with your slick, vanishes into your tight cunt over and over. “Shiiiitttt…”

You slip a hand into his tresses, pulling hard and forcing him away from your nipples. You pull so hard Suguru has to close his eyes because the sensation sends goosebumps igniting across his body. That, combined with the way you keep taking him to the tip before slamming down on his cock repeatedly. Fuck, you’re a quick learner.

Your pussy is what it feels like every single time he pulls off a heist successfully. Like fucking heaven. And he never wants to leave it.

His eyes flutter open, just enough to see your breasts bouncing with every rise and fall of your hips. Your velvety walls hug him tight, so fucking good, Suguru thinks he'd like to be able to have you all the time. Hell, he has half a mind to take you with him once they’re off this damned train. Being able to have you like this any time he wants, watch your body come undone under him, on top of him, in any position you’ll let him have you. He’d even give up this outlaw life if you wanted him to. Settle down, start a family if that’s what you wanted. The thought of it makes Suguru more excited than he’ll ever admit.

Each time your pussy sucks him back in, begging for him to cum, he can suddenly picture a life outside of this. Each time those sexy little noises fall from your sweet lips, he can suddenly envision raising a family with you, building himself a life where he's able to hear those sounds any time he desires. 

He lets his mind drift to these fantasies while he can, enjoying the feeling of you and the sounds you gift him with. 

There's a fire pooling in his belly, growing hotter each time his balls meet your ass. He's gonna blow his load here any second. And he can't wait. He wants to cum inside your walls, wants to thrust himself so deep into you that there's no way you're not carrying his child when he's done. Least you'll have something to remember him by if you tell him you don’t want shit to do with him after this. A sweet woman like you with a wanted felon? Of course you’d prefer to get your rocks off while you can and move on. Which is fine.

Because Suguru is gonna remember you, anyway. He’ll remember the way you squeeze around him, the way you moan the little nickname you’ve given him, the way your cunt feels fucking unlike any other woman’s. You’ve got him mesmerized. 

So much so, that he doesn't even notice the cool press of steel against the center of his forehead. 

“Ohhh,” you moan, whimpering, “Please…please…will you put a baby inside me, outlaw?” 

It’s like you read his mind, and Suguru’s eyes snap open, balls tightening as his release threatens to come at any moment. But then his eyes see the stiffness in your arm, see the glimmer of metal as the sunlight reflects off it through the windows, and he finally realizes you've got his gun to his head, and maybe that’s actually why his balls are tightening. You’ve got this wicked grin on your flushed face as you keep riding him. Hard, fast, walls squeezing him in a vice grip. And he can't do shit but let his eyes roll to the back of his head, let his pleasure race straight down his spine and into his balls as his release shoots from his cock before he has a chance to get ahold of himself.

But you don’t let him get a drop inside, lifting yourself smoothly off his lap just as fat, hot streams of cum land messily in his lap and on his stomach. Suguru’s gasping for air, still struggling to figure out what the fuck is going on. And you don’t give him a second to catch his breath, to let his mind catch up before you’re wrapping your hand around his cock again, squeezing and stroking his length until he’s so overstimulated his jaw is cramping up from how hard he’s gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

“What the fuck are you ahhh–” you run your thumb over his leaking tip, your eyes alight with joy when his hips buck up automatically, legs trembling as you keep pumping him, though his balls are beyond empty. 

You tsk, shaking your head as you press the barrel of the gun harder against his skin. “Where’s that sweet outlaw from before?” You drawl.

Your voice has changed. No longer soft spoken, shy and sweet. The hardness of your tone tells Suguru all he needs to know. The memories come flooding back. And now he realizes why you looked so familiar when he first laid eyes on you. 

Your face has been plastered on wanted posters in damn near every town he and his partners have stopped in. Murder, robbery, drunkenness, prison escape, cheating at cards. All the crimes that should have you in the town square hanging, you’re wanted for. Somehow, you’ve managed to never get caught.

How could he have let his guard down? How could he have fucked up this badly?

‘Thinking with your dick. That’s how.’

“Guess it takes an outlaw to know one,” He grits out, nostrils flared with fury. He can only hope his crew comes through those doors soon, though it’ll be fucking humiliating to be caught in this position.

A giggle spills from your lips and the sound makes Suguru sick to his stomach. You don’t even sound like the same person from before. “Y’all are pretty easy to spot. ‘Specially when all y’all think with your cocks–” You echo his thoughts, emphasizing the word by squeezing Suguru’s slowly softening length in your hand. You frown, releasing your hold on him. “Huh, thought you’d be able to gimme another one.”

He inhales deeply, shakily, narrowing his eyes at the woman – the stranger – that stands before him. “Everything you said was a lie, then.”

It’s not a question. He knows. Because you’re just like him. Maybe even worse.

Laughter bursts from deep within, like what he said was the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. “It really is easy to fool y’all men. Just gotta make our pussies feel reallllll tight and wet and y’all don’t question nothin’.”

You climb off of the seat, taking the gun off his head while you fix your undergarments, unbothered and careless. And Suguru decides to act fast, takes this moment to lunge for you. But he doesn’t make it far, because his head is yanked back roughly the moment he jumps forward. His scalp burns, and he reaches back, feeling a thick knot tied around the metal bar that sits atop the train seats. The same metal bar you were just holding onto moments ago.

“You fuckin’ tied my hair to the seat?!” He growls.

And you chuckle, shifting your dress around until you’re decent again. The gun is pointed back at Suguru’s face, and he puts his hands back down, not daring to try and free himself when you’ve got a revolver ready to blow his brains out.

“And your hands are next,” you promise in a sing-song voice. You keep your word, spinning around briefly to reach between the wall and your original seat, where you’d apparently hidden a small rope. You make quick work of tying Suguru’s hands behind his back, leaning a little too close to him as you finish the knot. 

He can feel your breaths against his neck, and right now, if he’s being honest with himself – which he may as well be since he could very well be dead soon – it’s confusing him. Because he feels like he fucking hates you, is repulsed by you, could spit in your face right now. Oh, he really fucking wants to. But something tells him you’d like that anyway. And the thought of your face, depraved and covered in his saliva is making his still exposed length hard again. Even when you tug harshly on the rope for good measure, chuckling low in Suguru’s ear when you hear him hiss in pain, his cock stiffens further.

And of course you notice, your eyes glancing down to his lap, where the sticky mess you left him with lies. “Sure you don’t wanna go again?” You tease, laughing when Suguru scowls. 

You like him upset, and probably a little pathetic, because you press your lips to his pout, kissing him hungrily. And apparently, Suguru is as pathetic as he looks, because – and it’s a surprise to him, too – he kisses you back! Your tongues tangle during this brief meeting of your lips, fighting for dominance, though it’s apparent who’s the one in control here. 

The filthy moans between you are interrupted when Suguru feels that damned gun under his chin now, applying enough pressure to push him back. Only a line of your mixed saliva connects you two as you stare down at him in amusement.

“Like I said…” you peer down quickly at Suguru’s lap before whispering. “Aaaalways thinkin’ with your cock.” You step back, pointing the gun at him once again.

“What do ya want?” He asks, pulling at his restraints to no avail. He’d love nothing more than to wipe that cocky smile off your face and flip the tables on you, but it’s not looking good for him.

“What I want…” You wiggle the gun in his face, tauntingly. “...is already mine, outlaw.” There’s humor in your tone, and your body language is relaxed. You couldn’t see Suguru as less of a threat if you tried.

You piss him off.

And make him so fucking hard.

He’s confused!

The noise of the doors to the train cabin opening can be heard and Suguru grins. You’re fucked now. Larue is going to put a bullet between your eyes and sure, Suguru’ll be sad about it. But better you than him. You were a great fuck, he’ll admit. And yes, he entertained the idea of giving you a kid or two, maybe getting a little cabin out in the prairie. But that fantasy’s as dead as you’re about to be. Sad that he won’t be–

“The guy with the nipples and the girl have been taken care of, boss!” A chipper voice sings. 

That…is not Larue.

Suguru couldn’t turn his head if he tried, courtesy of this goddamn knot, but he can see the smirk on your face as you nod. “Great work, Hime. And the goods?”

“Already on the move with the others. Just gotta get on the horses when you’re ready.”

You turn your head, staring out the window and nodding again. Out of his peripheral, Suguru can just barely make out the form of two horses, racing alongside the train and he knows he’s screwed.

You sigh, shrugging while feigning sadness as you pout. “Well, outlaw…looks like this is the end of the line.”

Suguru tugs at his ropes again, struggling against the holds. “You gonna leave me here like this?” He gestures with his chin at his…situation. You must be forgetting his entire dick is out for the world to see. And that you’ve tied his hands up. Not to mention his fucking hair! If he has to cut his hair because of this…

You hum, like you’re actually giving deep thought to his question. You’re not.

“Yeah, actually. Think I am.” You lift your dress, not even pretending to be as innocent as you presented yourself to be when Suguru first laid eyes on you. You tuck his gun into the waistband of your undergarments, patting it affectionately. “Thanks for a grand ol’ time, outlaw. If you manage to survive this, we can do it again.”

You shoot him a wink before you lean over him, leaving him with one final kiss on the lips. It’s gentle this time, soft, save for a light nip to his bottom lip that embarrassingly enough, manages to arouse Suguru yet again. 

“At least tell me your name,” Suguru grits out through heavy breaths. “So I can be sure to repay the favor.”

It’s a threat, but you don’t take it as one. You simply smile. It’s warm, almost reminiscent of the woman he met just earlier. The woman he thought you were. But that look is gone as soon as it appeared. You pat his face gently, reaching across the seat to grab his hat that he had set aside when he’d first sat down. You sit it atop your head, wearing it like some sort of crown, and without another word, you leave.

The train cars open, the roaring rush of the wind filling the space for just a moment before they’re shut again, and Suguru is left with nothing but his thoughts and his dick literally out. He leans his head back against the seat, closing his eyes to calm his racing heart and honestly to stifle the pain of his untouched erection.

This has been the wildest ride of his life. Definitely the worst heist he’s ever done. And if he does survive this, does manage to somehow talk his way out of charges and prison time, he’s going to find you. Fuck the robberies. Fuck the brothels. Fuck gambling and drinking all day. Yeah, if he manages to survive this, he will make it his life’s mission to find you again.

Because even after all is said and done, Suguru thinks he might fucking love you.

[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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[kisskawa]

— free will

“babe!” it’s closer to a shout than a whisper, no matter how oikawa tries to hush his voice, and it makes you turn away, face buried firmly in your pillow.

“no wait, come back,” oikawa’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his embrace. his other hand reaches over to tug at the end of the curtains and you groan unhappily at the disruption to your sleep.

you peak open an eye, lips pushed up in a pout and glance at the view of a cloud covered sun, streaks of pink and blue painting the sky as the world came to life. your frown deepens, staring expectantly at oikawa with bleary eyes.

you don’t get the explanation you want. instead, oikawa softens under your gaze, regardless of the less than happy look you’re shooting him. “good morning,” he grins, voice sticky with fondness and his hand moves to hold your cheek.

you hum in return, eyes fluttering closed once more under the warmth of oikawa’s touch.

“wait, baby, wake up,” oikawa shakes you gently, unrelenting on his hold, “i had something to ask.”

you palm at your eye slowly, murmuring a hazy “g’mornin’ ‘ru,” still a little dazed so early in the day. oikawa beams at the nickname, he knows you’re not a morning person.

“do you believe in soulmates?” the question is soft and sweet, spilling forth as a remnant of a horrifically tender dream.

you blink at him.

“y’know,” oikawa prompts, “people destined for each other?” because i think we are.

you don’t give him time to confess, single syllable of “no” cutting through the air, skewing the gentle atmosphere.

oikawa feels his heart stutter in his chest, next beat ever so slightly harder than the last. he’d never entertained the idea that your relationship was unbalanced. and yet, it makes his body freeze, arms suddenly tight around you, fear drawing you in, hoping you’d stay by his side.

you regain oikawa’s attention with a hand over his own, warmth of your cheek searing into his skin.

“i think we chose each other,” you explain, voice gentle and low, words only for tooru, “i always knew that you went to seijoh and you like volleyball, but i had to learn that you never drink enough water unless someone reminds you and that it took you all three years there to figure out the school layout. i also learnt that you can point out so many constellations at night because you really liked aliens as a kid. and that you put way too much sugar in your coffee. and all of that - every last bit - made me choose you.” you lean further into tooru’s hand, the meat of your cheek squishing up to your eye, “whether or not soulmates exist, i’d choose you in every lifetime.”

tooru feels his heart stutter in his chest, next beat ever so slightly lighter than the last. he’d never entertained the idea that your relationship was unbalanced, the very thought laughable as love fills the room around you, flowing through your veins. it makes his body relax, arms suddenly tight around you, only ever wanting you to be closer, closer, closer. because tooru chose you too, he always would.

[abilouwrites]

DONT WAIT FOR THE TIDE

JUST TO DIP BOTH YOUR FEET IN

“You really wanna go on a road-trip?” I ask Buck as he throws a duffel into his Jeep and then more gently tucks my duffel next to his, I look out at the cold greys and harsh blues in the sky. The clouds threaten to launch a downpour any moment, “it’s the middle of December Buck”

“Yeah, yeah it’ll be good for us to get out of town for a while. See the coast. San Fran and Santa Cruz” He rambles, I’ve seen him rushing but he’s never been so eager to kick it before.

“Buck I lived in San Jose, I know all those places. I’ve been there before. What’s this really about?” I inquire as he opens my door and helps me in then proceeds to jump into the drivers side and we speed off.

“I just, everything at work has been so crazy lately and I just need to blow town for a little while. And I thought, why don’t I do that with my favorite lady who knows all the best spots” he reasons brushing through his loose curls as we slow at a traffic light.

“Ok..” I shrug a little; I’ve been with this man long enough to know when to push and when to not, “how’s Eddie doing?” I ask, “losing his wife must’ve been hard” I pick my knee up and place my feet on the dash before Buck swats them down, “I’m in my socks!”

“That is how you break your pelvis and your legs so feet where they go babe” He corrects gently, moves a hand from the wheel to gently caress my thigh. Covered in my Stanford crewneck and leggings with my fuzzy Christmas socks on. I’m a little more comfortable than if I was in jeans and a hoodie.

“Alright alright, but Chris is good?” I ask turning my head as he looks at the GPS.

“Yeah, he misses his mom and Eddie’s shut down a little bit but I think with some therapy he might start coming back.. Athena and Bobby have been helping out with dinners n stuff” he explains, checking over as he merges into the freeway.

“That’s good, god I love those two. Real good people” I nod a little shifting in my seat as Buck continues driving.

“I was thinking, Santa Cruz, we go see your parents, San Fran, then drive back. Skip LA and just head straight to San Diego?” He asks looking over. Just a peeking glance at my expression before he turns his attention back to the road.

“Buck, y’know I love you but it’s gonna be freezing in San fran and Santa Cruz and driving past home Buck what’s up? I’m gettin worried” I peek over at him, seeing a large sigh from his chest.

“I’m scared. To go back. That I’ll get hurt again. Or someone else will get hurt again. I’m starting to think I’m just full of bad luck” He breathes a little looking in the rearview mirror before speeding up slightly.

“Oh” I don’t really have anything to say, no words to comfort him, no piece of advice to say ‘I’d been there, I know how you feel’ because I don’t know how he feels. I don’t know what it’s like to die on the job, or to see my friends face death, “I can’t tell you that I’ve been there and give you advice” I admit, “baby, the best I can do for you is to tell you that I’m here for you. And we have about six hours for you to tell me all about your feelings”

I see a faint smile and he shakes his head, “nah, I don’t need you to be my therapist, but I appreciate it.. more than you know” He tugs at his earlobe and sits back a little.

We sit in silence, I’ve got my AirPods in and watching the view. Bucks hand shifts from the steering wheel to my thigh where he just holds it.

We arrive in Santa Cruz at sunset, the beach is cold and the sand pricks at my toes as I slip my socks off, “come on bucky” I smile a little, it’s been years since I’ve been to this beach. I grasp his hand, he falters slightly before following after me. A quick surge foreword as he drops my hand then lifts me over his shoulder. I gasp slightly and grip onto his shirt, “Evan!”

“You run too slow, y’know I’m trained to run carrying a hell of a lot more than what you weigh” He sasses slightly, lowering me as the waves lick at my feet. It’s a re-assuring smile he gives me as he leans in and kisses me softly.

I smile into the kiss and wrap my arms around his neck. Locking my fingers into the soft blondeish brunette curls, “y’know. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get out of the city until I actually got out” I murmur as he turns and we stand side by side. The waves crashing into my ankles, starting to wet the edges of my leggings. The water starts to soak into Bucks jeans. He holds my hand, stuffing it into his hoodie pocket. I lean against his bicep, his finger rubs against my thumb.

“Good trip then?”

“Definitely”

[chronicdisasterwrites]

for you, i would

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru (gojo’s past arc)

genre + warnings: - JJK S2 SPOILERSSS !! deaths (obvi), panic attack, funeral mentioned, smoking, just major pain. everybody's just hella depressed, swears are said, shifts between past and present (italics is past, normal is present moment), the slow burn is KILLING ME

ANGST but then it's FLUFFY :') bittersweet fluff tho (i'm sorry)

word count: 3,953

authors note: okay you asked, i hope i delivered omg :') this is the part 2 of my fic "death is pretty but his eyes are prettier". this might just be a series, because I have some ideas.

enjoyyy <3

Suguru’s gone. He’s now exiled from Jujutsu High and a certified criminal. Shoko’s putting on a nonchalant show and Satoru is lost. And you are not quite sure how to process so much information all at once. 

---

It's been a few days since your encounter with the special grade curse. A few days since you and Satoru had that moment in the hall. Days have passed since then, but your mind still seems to be stuck there, wondering why it felt so different. Since then, every time you've been near Satoru felt different. His looks looked different, his voice sounded different, his aura felt different. You felt different, and you're not sure what changed. Now you were being sent off to another assignment and Satoru was being sent off on a different assignment, and this distance could either make things a good different or a bad different. Now, what you think would be a good different is a thought you don't even want to ponder.

“Hey, you.”

Satoru moves his eyes from the window to acknowledge you. You're leaning against the classroom door with a backpack slung over your shoulder and a smile on your face. A smile that Satoru returns tenfold.

“Hey there. You start missin’ me already?”

You snort with a laugh and walk toward him. Leaning on the desk next to where he was sitting, you lightly shove his head, “Absolutely not.”

He laughs heartily and leans forward on his chair, resting his head on the palm of his hand. He's looking at you through his ever-present dark sunglasses with a dopey smile, and this is exactly what makes your stupid heart flutter, and you just don't understand why. You smile back but it doesn't stay on your face for long enough. Satoru notices of course and similarly his smile is also wiped from his face and replaced with a quizzical quirk of his brows.

“You’re worried. Question is, why?”

You shrug and bring your hand up to bite the skin around your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were a child. Something you've always done to avoid answering unwanted questions or just to avoid the storm in your mind. Satoru sighs and lightly holds your wrist to move it away from your face. He holds your hand and assesses every finger, slowly tracing the lines on your palm with his slender fingers, then your bitten nails, then the veins on your inner wrist. You blush.

“I don't know, this mission just feels different, I guess. I mean…” You look out the window and observe the blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. There's a black rogue cloud creeping up on the clear ones, and you sense a storm coming. You know Satoru and Suguru are strong and they're perfect for this job. But of course you’ll worry, and your voice does nothing to hide that, not that you could even if you tried. Not with Satoru, anyways.

“It’s just a lot for anyone, y’know?”

Satoru looks up from your hand and with soft eyes and an even softer smile he says, “Sure, but nothing we can't handle. And anyways,” His smile gets cheekier and cheeks get warmer, “I gotta come back soon, right? Can't have you bein’ all sad and mopey without me.”

You laugh and shove your hands in your pockets, turning to leave the room when Satoru calls your name.

“Be careful on your mission. I'll see you soon, yeah?”

You look back and smile, “Yeah, you too.”

—-

“So I heard you losers are tasked with babysitting the star plasma vessel? Amanai, was it?” You find Suguru smoking on the balcony near the courtyard on campus. He cranes his neck to look back at you and gives you a small smile.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, Suguru offers you his half-smoked cigarette. You accept it and bring it to your lips as you take your place next to him. 

“Yeah. Riko Amanai. I thought you had a mission outside Tokyo?” Suguru asks head tilted as he leans against the wooden railing. 

“Yeah in a bit. Wanted to catch you before I leave. I already met Satoru,” you reply as you blow out smoke through your nose and return the remaining cigarette to him. He hums and holds the cig between his index finger and thumb as he puffs it twice before stubbing it out in the ashtray half filled with cigarette butts. 

You both stare ahead at the courtyard, basking in the shared silence. You think about the responsibility on their shoulders and how heavy it must be; considering the star plasma vessel is just a few years younger than the four of you. Being raised with only one obligation; to be preserved and grow in isolation for the rest of her years. It isn’t something anyone would want. But that’s Riko Amanai’s life. 

“Stop worrying,” Suguru looks at you with an easygoing smile. 

You are always amazed at how well he could read you. So you just laugh and pat his back twice before turning to leave. 

“Just be careful, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

---

You’re lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling; paralyzed. Things went to shit so fast. Riko had been killed by a man called Toji Zenin or Fushiguro; at this point, you’re not sure. You’ve heard him be called both Zenin and Fushiguro. But nothing had been the same. Suguru was different. Satoru was now the strongest and being sent on more and more solo missions overseas, and back then, you felt in your bones that something was wrong. Everything was wrong anyways. Riko Amanai didn’t deserve the life she got. She didn’t deserve to die like that. And you know Satoru and Suguru. They were headstrong and stubborn; doing things their own way regardless of what anyone said. They were the strongest, after all. So you knew things were worse than they seemed because you know for a fact that if Riko chose to live, they would do whatever it took to make her wish come true. And you were right. 

---

Your mission was more or less a success. A dead curse and a few bruises here and there is the best outcome any Jujutsu sorcerer can hope for. But the air in Jujutsu High felt different. Thicker, darker, and not at all the way it was when you left it. Figuring Satoru and Suguru’s mission regarding the star plasma vessel should be complete, you head out to look for them. Heading towards the guy's dorms, it doesn’t take long before you find the hunched-over figure with jet-black hair sitting on the benches near the vending machines. 

You approach him with a soft call of his name. Suguru lifts his head to look at you as he mutters your name with a greeting. He looks awful. He looks skinnier and his hair is mostly wet as if he didn’t even bother to dry it off completely after taking a shower. Dark eyebags and half-lidded eyes make him look so much older than he is. Ironically, he looks smaller too. As if the life had been sucked right out of him.

You move forward slowly taking a seat next to him. You lean back and stretch out your legs and wait for him to say something, anything. Preferably about the mission and why he looks so fucked up. But he just asks about your mission.

You reply with a shrug, “It was fine.”

He nods his head as you wait for him to say more. He doesn’t.

“Suguru…what happened?”

He looks detached, lost. He purses his lips and fiddles with his thumbs. “Riko was killed.”

You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything at all. 

“You know, she wanted to live. Satoru and I decided that we’d support any decision she’d make. She wanted to live longer with her friends, and her family. But then-“ he chokes up. Trying to mask it with a cough he just shrugs and exhales. He lets his head hang low.

“They were clapping,” he clenches his fists and you feel his cursed energy spike. 

You don’t know what he means by that. You’re in shock and you have no idea what to say. What can you possibly say to make any of this better? Apologizing seems ridiculous. Saying “she deserved better” is even stupider. Of course, he knows she deserved better. You reach out your hand to touch him before he speaks again.

“I was wrong. These people. These monkeys… they don’t deserve to be protected.”

He looks at your outreached hand and gives a half smile. He unclenches his fists to hold your hand in his larger ones. He caresses your knuckles as you say the only thing that you feel.

“You’re right. They don’t deserve to be protected.”

Suguru looks at you with eyes filled with curiosity and surprise as if he expected you to say the opposite.

You look at his hands holding yours, squeezing his hand once as you continue. 

“But then, there are also people like Riko, who do deserve to be protected, right?”

His eyes widen and his hand slacks as he stares at you. Right when he opens his mouth to say something, Haibara’s boisterous voice fills the room. He greets the both of you and you smile back as you retract your hand from Suguru’s and stand to leave. 

Suguru calls your name and you look at him. You feel so bad for him, you can’t express it. It’s tearing your heart out seeing him look so depressed, so utterly destroyed. You reach out and brush your knuckles against his cheek. He closes his eyes and releases a sigh. Leaving featherlight touches against the darkness under his eyes, you say softly, “It wasn’t your fault, Suguru. I hope you know that.”

His eyes shut and you can almost hear the torrential thoughts flooding his brain. Your voice is hushed. You want to be as gentle as possible with the way you speak to him now. He’s like a glass bottle filled with a corrosive, bubbling liquid. It must be handled with the utmost care because the only thing containing the liquid is the bottle. If the bottle breaks, the liquid will spill everywhere. Even if it’s collected from the ground and stored in a tougher container, the microscopic glass shards will be near impossible to separate from the liquid itself. Geto Suguru, is a strong man. But even the strongest material is bound to break; if a stronger force acts upon it, continuously, without giving it time to heal and repair. And once broken, Geto Suguru will always have those shards lodged inside his soul.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

He looks at you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. You drop your hand as you turn to leave him with Haibara. “I’ll see you, Suguru. Best of luck on your mission, Haibara.” 

Haibara gives you a bright smile with eyes turned into little moons. “Thank you senpai! I’ll bring back souvenirs for you all!” 

You return his smile and send him a thanks and a wave as you look at Suguru, gaze not being reciprocated. You only see his dark ebony hair covering his face as he stares at the ground, unmoving; distant.

The moment your back turns to them, the smile drops from your face and your eyes fill with tears.

---

You found out about Suguru from Yaga-sensei. Apparently, he had killed his parents and 112 non-sorcerers. Geto Suguru was now a criminal and exiled from the Jujutsu community. The Suguru you last met near the vending machines before he embarked on his new path; before Haibara’s death. 

Now you’re lying in bed, marinading in your sadness, thinking about how everything went to shit so fast. Haibara died and Suguru was as good as dead. Nanami was broken. You don't know where Satoru is but wherever he is, he's definitely not okay.

You’d heard Satoru had met Suguru from Shoko, considering she met him before Satoru did. And Shoko. Shoko shut herself off, acting as if everything was fine. She keeps conversations short and drowns herself in her studies and her work. Things will never be the same again. 

You feel conflicted. Did my words tick him off? Could I have said something better? Am I a terrible friend? Maybe if I find him now I can talk to him and be by his side, but he’s not the same Suguru I once knew. He didn’t seek me out. Why didn’t he come to meet me? Does he hate me? Does Satoru know I spoke to him before he did what he did? Does Satoru hate me? Will Shoko ever be the same again? No, of course, she won’t. None of us will ever be the same again. It’s all broken. Everything went to shit. 

There’s knocking on your door. You glance at the alarm clock on your side table. 2:30 am it blinks, in an angry red light that hurts your eyes. You sit up on your bed as you contemplate whether to open the door or ignore it. You can feel the cursed energy of the person pulsing behind the door. They knock again. You get up and open the door to see one Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe with his sunglasses on and shoulders drooped. His stance is unguarded, tired, and face sullen. 

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” he looks apologetic as he opens his sunglasses and puts them in his pocket. His once crystal blue eyes are now a muted blue with dark purple circles underneath them. 

You silently shake your head, opening the door further and walking deeper into the room hoping he’d follow. He does, as he shuts the door behind him. You sit on the foot of your bed as he drags his feet next to you and falls on his back with his long legs dangling off the edge. 

He closes his eyes and opens them, then closes them again. You look at him wondering what to say. As nothing comes to your mind you simply decide to lie down next to him and stare up at the ceiling. You both stay like that for what seems like a long time, soaking in each other’s presence as if it might be stolen from you both within moments.

“You know…I met him. We spoke and he told me I should kill him if I wanted to. I was about to but then I couldn’t do it,” his voice is so small, almost trembling. He’s breathing heavily, the silence in the room when he’s not speaking is so loud you can almost hear his heart beating.

You turn your head to see him staring up at the ceiling. He breathes your name.

“I just… couldn’t do it,” he releases a shaky breath, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Maybe I should have. Maybe because I didn’t kill him, a lot more people will-” he chokes.

Your heart hurts seeing him like this. The pain you were trying to control floods your senses and nothing feels real anymore. You wish it was a nightmare, that once you wake up everything would be fine. Suguru would still be here, his parents still alive, Satoru being his usual childlike self, Shoko with her hilarious little remarks, Haibara filling the room with his larger-than-life presence and laugh, Nanami emo as ever but still with you all. Riko still alive. But the more you try to force yourself to wake up you realize you’re fully awake already. This isn’t a nightmare; it’s real. This is your life.

“Of course you couldn’t, Satoru. I mean it’s Su-“ you cut yourself off with a shaky exhale. “All of this is just so-“ your voice breaks as you try to contain the tears. You take a deep breath trying to hold in your hurt. You have to be strong because right now Satoru isn’t. He needs you now more than ever.

“It’s just so unfair,” you say under your breath. 

“I’m supposed to be the strongest. I’m supposed to be the “honored one”. I mean- it was a moment of weakness. I can’t-“ he puts both his hands on his face as he breathes heavily and mutters incoherently. 

“I can’t be weak,” he spits the word as if it’s venom. Poison, tainting his pristine lips. 

“I just- I can’t.”

He mutters your name as he starts heaving and trembling. You immediately sit up and lean over him; your face over his own. 

His eyes blink rapidly as he gulps and tries to take a full breath, ultimately failing. 

You hold his face and look into his eyes. “Satoru, you’re having a panic attack. Look at me, okay? Focus on me.”

He shakes his head, and sniffles, clutching his chest as he continues spiraling. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

You grab his clenched hand and hold it against your chest. “Feel me breathe, okay? Look look. Inhale, and exhale. Okay? It’s just us here, alright? Forget everything else.”

Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion as Satoru’s eyes lock onto yours. Trying to match his breathing with yours, his eyes slowly regain focus as his chest stops heaving. His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes deeper breaths. Soon enough, your hearts beat in the same rhythm. 

“There you go. Deep breaths,” you give him a small smile as one hand still holds his against your chest and the other holding the side of his face; thumb caressing his cheek. 

Mouth open and eyes blurry, he gulps as he brings up his free hand to touch your face. His fingers brush over the scar on your right cheek. No one else has ever touched your scar like this. Even you've never traced it with so much love and tenderness. Only Satoru has, and you realize you like that very much. You like the feeling of his fingers on your skin, especially on the part of your body that makes you feel like a complete failure. It scares you, but you can't even think about it now because his fingers are everywhere. They graze your jaw, run through your hair, and trace your nose, before finding their rightful place back over your cheek. His voice is strained and so, so small. “You’re real, right?”

A stubborn stray tear escapes your eye as you give him a watery smile. “Yeah, I’m real, Satoru. I’m real.”

He leans up to rest his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. Your breaths mix as you feel his silver eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. His wispy bangs tickle your face and you notice his hair has gotten longer. You also notice how he has two indents on each side of the bridge of his nose where his sunglasses spend all their time. He also has the clearest skin you have ever seen anyone have. Your eyes map his face like it's the first time you're seeing him but not the first time you realize that he is so, so beautiful. And your heart almost stops at the realization that you might just be in love with Gojo Satoru.

This is the most intimate you’ve ever been with anyone. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him be and the most vulnerable you’ll ever let yourself be. Your tears don’t seem to stop now, flowing freely, falling onto his rosy cheeks and shirt. He gently wipes them away with his thumb as your foreheads stay pressed together. Hands still intertwined against your heart and thoughts flowing together. 

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here. I just- I had to see you,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.

Your voice is quiet too and you feel your face getting warm. “Always.”

You both stay like that for a couple minutes, breathing each other in, feeling each other’s heart beat. You feel so guilty for wanting to tell him you love him. You can't do that now. He's upset and lost and you won't put something like this on him right now. So you bury it and just bask in the sound of his breathing.

Once he’s calmed down, you both lie down next to each other, shoulders touching, back to staring at the ceiling. You sniffle and wipe your eyes, feeling the weight on your chest significantly lighten. After a few minutes, his raspy voice breaks the silence.

“He has a son,” He looks at you, “Toji Fushiguro. He has a son. Said his name was Megumi Fushiguro.”

His eyes shift between yours and then travels all over your face. He nibbles on his lips and continues, “Apparently, the kid’s been sold to the Zenin’s, ‘cause of the Ten Shadows Technique he inherited.”

You turn your head to look at him and you know what he's thinking.

“You’re gonna stop the sale?”

Satoru grins, “I'm gonna stop the sale,” He looks up at the ceiling and stretches his arms up. “And, anyways. He’ll be much better off here. Not to mention, his technique is the best thing to come out of his shit family, so win-win.”

“How old is he?”

Satoru shrugs, “6? 7, I guess?”

You look up at the ceiling and wonder. When Satoru speaks again, somehow reading your thoughts, you look at him.

“Will you help me?” He looks at you so longingly, and you don't even need to think about the answer. Your worries are forgotten. All you know is that you both will figure it out.

“Of course, Satoru.”

He releases a small exhale and smiles at you. You return it. You open your mouth to say something but Satoru beats you to it.

“You know, sometimes I wish I was just any regular person. Not the strongest, not a sorcerer. Just some random normie.”

You wish you could give him that. Sometimes you also have thoughts like this. What if you were just a regular person? No powers, no clue about curses, no idea about weapons or cursed techniques. A regular life, a regular family. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Satoru hums as he brushes his knuckles against yours. You let your wishful thinking get the better of you. 

“Hey. What if we run away?”

Satoru looks at you with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. You look back at him with a half smile, because you know you would. You would run away with him if he wanted to. Of course, you’d ask Shoko to join the both of you as well. But you imagine going somewhere tropical maybe. Somewhere small, a place with a beach preferably so you could watch Satoru prance around in the water and build sandcastles, only for you or Shoko to go and stomp all over it. And then you’d watch him throw a hissy fit and pout about it for the rest of his life. You’d watch the sun set over the ocean every single day without a worry in the world. Maybe you could be there till you’re old and wrinkled. Living to 80, dying in your bed wrapped in blankets and the people you love - a dream. A place where you’re nobodies. A place where Satoru could finally be free. You’d leave everything behind to have that with him. Not like you have much to leave behind anyways. But you would. 

Satoru laughs softly, almost under his breath.

“You know what?”

Your eyes are observing his every expression; you stare at his porcelain skin and sharp jaw, eyes staring up at the ceiling and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He looks at you with his glittering sapphire eyes and bitten-bloodied pink lips stretched into a real smile. You look at the small dimple on the side of his right cheek and you think, just for tonight, maybe the weight on his chest feels lighter too. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

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

part 3

a/n: HAH YOU THOUGHT THEY'D KISS? nope, still hopelessly pining lolol. but we’ll get there, bear with me :’)

tagged: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite

[ourfag]

stede, wrapped around ed like a dumpling, in a tentatively cheerful whisper: …hey,

ed, still sniffly but mostly cried out: mm?

stede: …i’ve got one for you.

ed, perking up a little bit: oh—yeah? alright, go ahead

stede: what would you do…

ed: mhm?

stede: …if we lived on a cloud?

ed: ….if we lived on a cloud?

stede: mhm. if we lived, let’s say, on a landscape of clouds and our house was on a cloud. made of clouds, maybe.

ed: oh. what do they feel like? are they soft?

stede: of course! they’re, mmm…something like rabbit fur? but not as smooth.

ed: hmm

stede: puffy. cottony.

ed: and it’s everywhere, right? all over the place?

stede: it’s everywhere. we’re living in cloudland.

ed: ok. umm. well first thing i’d do i think is… play with the clouds?

stede, rubbing ed’s back encouragingly: oh yeah?

ed: like maybe… maybe we go outside and pick up some cloud and it’s soft and. it’s dry, but kind of… squidgy, almost. and. so maybe you can. you can make it into shapes

stede: ooh, what kind of shapes?

ed: i think i’d try to make a kite. d’you think—

stede: that’s a fun choice, i like that

ed: because—well, ok, does air pass through it? the clouds—cloudstuff?

stede: this stuff? not all the air, i don’t think so

ed: because clouds sail, y’know, they sort of…sail across the sky, that’s the wind. and these clouds are even more solid, cause we’re standing on them

stede: so you could make a kite. i could see that

ed: yeah and weave some—and spin some string for it

stede: i’ll make the tail

ed: ok. make it a really fancy one though

stede: oh, i will, i promise

ed: maybe it—

stede: fancy.

ed: maybe it’s got a swirl to it. a little swirl

stede: like a spiral?

ed: mhm. yeahp. like a—or a, a, it’s got lace trim, or a—ruffly, maybe.

stede: i could do that. i think i could

ed: ruffly lace

stede: maybe a fringe? maybe ribbons

ed: im putting fringe on the kite too

stede: oh, all round the edges?

ed: yeah i think so

stede: now, what shape is this? standard diamond?

ed: well yeah that’s what i was…or…we could do more of—it could be something cool, i guess, like a dragon

stede: ahhhh that would look neat, wouldn’t it. with a ruffly tail

ed: yeayeayea a fancy kind of tail, right, and scales. lacy scales

stede: oh, that’s brilliant

ed: it’s not too complicated, though?

stede: no, i’m picturing it right now. i think it looks fantastic

[hungryforjay]

𓆙 nrk || harry potter au

𓆙 not gryffindor slander i am a gryffindor myself🫡 first dialogue tags are ib a writing prompt || word count uhh short

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗

The witching hour approached quickly. The clouds were sparse and the sky was dark, save for the few stars that twinkled alongside the moon. The weeping willow swayed and the wind whispered through the leaves, flittered through the grass, swept the strands of your bangs and lifted them off your forehead. It nipped at your skin and tickled your calves, your robe doing little to cover your skin.

Riki lies next to you half asleep, eyelids fluttering like the wind.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Riki mumbles, startling you out of your trance fixed on the thestrals lurking by, “The shit your sister says?”

You watched a fallen leaf twirl onto a dirt bed.

“Does anyone feel good about the shit our siblings say?”

He shifted onto his elbow, his palm hoisting up his head. Riki looked very serious for once, more than you’ve ever seen him before.

“It should bother you. Everyone knows the stigma surrounding Slytherins is old news. You’re not evil. Do you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning farther back on your hands to look up at the sky. It was the same conversation over and over again. Of how your perfect prefect sister, an insufferable Gryffindor, acted like you didn’t exist because you were sorted into Slytherin. And that was four years ago.

“Do you know that?”

Riki scrunched his face, fingers gripping the grass below him. “What?”

“You keep bringing it up so much, I’m starting to think you’re repeating it as a reminder to yourself.”

Scoffing, Riki ripped the weeds of grass from under his hands and rested his head on the dirt bed behind. He chuckled.

“Maybe I have to, y’know? Seeing as you aren’t doing anything to shift the narrative.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re just letting her going around spreadin’ shit about us. Nobody wants to be around us. Not even our own house, we’re outsiders in a place we’re supposed to call home.”

His eyes avoided yours, opting to stare at the moon that colored his pupils white.

“I’m not obligated to do shit Riki. They can think whatever they want. They-“

“They think we’re Death Eaters! That’s not something one can just think—about Y/n. They think we’re murderers…and I dunno about you, but I’m not okay with being labeled as a fuckin’ murderer. I’m a Slytherin. Not, and I repeat, not, a murderer.”

You stare wide eyed as he rested his head back on the bed of grass, shutting his eyes with a harsh sigh.

“Why do you think we’re out here, Y/n? We can’t even get a sliver of peace in our own fuckin’ dorm.” Riki muttered with and like the wind, soft and sharp.

It’s been a long time since you’ve cared about anything real. The last time you tried you ended up defeated against the triumph of your sister. But looking at Riki’s scrunched face, his frustration peaking through from the tremble in his lip had reminded you that he was real, his feelings were real.

Letting her win means losing Riki.

Riki, the only person who stuck beside you the moment you were sorted.

A low huff grumbled in the distance, pulling your attention off Riki. Two thestrals knocked their chins against each other, huffing and whining, playfulness reminding you of the relationship you shared with the boy ignoring you to your right.

“Let’s get her back.”

Riki cracked open an eye at the sound of your voice, eyebrow arched in question. “Get her back?”

You raised your eyebrows in response, heartbeat reaching your ears in anticipation of his answer. He pushed his upper body up with the heart of his palm, a sly grin creeping up the corners of his mouth.

He reached out a hand and you slapped yours in his, shyly grinning back.

“Slick the slytherin you are—Welcome back Y/n.”

[ficnation]

“Your dad’s an asshole” Part 2 - Carl x Reader

Request: “Carl x son of negan. Where they meet when Negan goes to get supplies for the first time from Alexandria and Negan’s son keeps flirting with Carl and Carl gets flustered and acts like he hates it, because y’know son of NEGAN, but eventually they go on a sort of date and kiss? Just fluff with a lil angst? Whatever works for you xoxo”

requested by @thatcucumberwhore

Word count: 2,2k+

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Male! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes (e.g gore, cursing)

A/n: Your relationship with Carl develops but you still have a long way to go. Also I do plan on writing some kind of an epilogue to this lil series eventually but it’s gonna take a while. Hope you enjoy it!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The only times you could see Carl was when you snuck out in the middle of the night or when your father wasn’t around. You always met halfway in the woods, not far from the main road that led from the Sanctuary to Alexandria. It wasn’t exactly safe for either of you, but if it was the only way you could see each other, it was a risk you were willing to take.

It was surprising how similar you were despite your different personalities. You’ve both lost your mothers at the start of the apocalypse, and your dads changed drastically because of that. You had to grow up far too quickly, drowning in loneliness with no one your age to talk to. Those things made you fit like two puzzle pieces—meant to be.

The forest hummed around you when you strode off the main road and into the surrounding trees, all but invisible from the outside world. You were careful not to step on any of the fallen twigs, afraid of making too much noise.

The sky above was dark and cloudless, yet you could only see a few streaks of light coming from the stars here and there. The crowns of the trees were far too thick to let anything more shine through them.

This part of the woods was usually peaceful—as peaceful as it could be in a world infested with the undead. But that didn’t mean you could feel safe or let your guard down. Even if there was no visible sign of threat, you had to keep your eyes and ears open.

You sat down under one of the many trees, mindlessly playing with a stray twig. You waited and waited, but time didn’t seem to pass fast enough while you waited for Carl to show up.

The darker the sky got, the more you started to worry.

But the moment you heard the familiar sound of careful footsteps, your eyes roamed around wildly. You couldn’t help the cheerful smile that spread across your face when you recognized the silhouette in front of you.

“Hey…” you greeted him, waving. Carl returned the gesture as he walked over to sit beside you, taking his spot under the tree.

His light brown hair seemed to glow under the dim moonlight, and his eye sparkled with happiness that only your presence could bring out of him. His cheeks were pink from the cold wind, and the thin material of his plaid shirt did nothing to warm him up.

Carl smiled at you and leaned back against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s almost midnight,” he stated, gazing at the starry sky.

It was indeed getting darker and darker every second. Your breath hitched slightly as you watched the clouds move in front of the moon.

“You’re lucky I didn’t wake up Judith when I fell on my ass jumping out of the window.”

You grinned at his joke before looking down at your feet. “Yeah…” you trailed off.

It had been so long since you’d seen one another with the constant war between your communities, yet there you were, alone together at midnight, gazing up at the moon.

It felt so strange and different to be with him like this. It made you feel more alive and more relaxed than you ever had before. No stress or anger could ruin it because you both knew where you stood; no matter the hatred between your people, you agreed you wouldn’t let it influence your friendship.

Carl stared up at the sky, lost in thought, as he watched a shooting star pass by. You looked up, too, following the path of the bright star.

“That’s nothing in comparison to the way you shine,” you stated, a confident smirk already growing on your face.

You knew very well what would follow your words. The blush on Carl’s face was barely visible in the darkness, but the way he nudged your arm with his elbow assured you it was definitely there.

“Shut up,” he chuckled, and for some reason, it was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah? Or what? You’re gonna kiss me?” The world around you froze the moment those words left your mouth. Damn, you hated yourself for speaking before thinking.

The silence that suddenly fell between the two of you was more than awkward. And you had no idea how to take those words back because you did want him to kiss you. You’ve been thinking for a while now how it would feel to brush your lips against his. Would they feel rough or soft against yours? Would Carl let you tangle your fingers in his soft hair?

You tried not to think about it, to repress those thoughts and keep them far away from your mind. But they always came back when you expected it the least. Even when you were just eating breakfast, the thought of kissing Carl and really being with him randomly popped up in your head.

“I’m sorry, it was just a joke. I shouldn’t have said that.” You chickened out.

Carl didn’t say anything, sitting beside you, deep in thought. You couldn’t read his face or his body language. He didn’t seem tense to you, but as far as you knew, it could just be your brain trying to let you keep some shred of hope.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?” Carl finally looked at you, waking up from his frozen state with a shake of his head.

You gave him a look, clearly not believing his words.

He sighed and shrugged. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would.” His voice dropped into a soft whisper. “When you leave I feel like there’s something missing.”

Carl’s eye met yours in the darkness. His words and the way he looked at you made your breath hitch. He must’ve noticed that because seconds after you exhaled, his lips were on yours, leaving a soft peck. When your eyes fluttered in confusion, it was his time to chicken out and pull away.

“Well, shit. Now, I should probably be sorry.”

You grinned at him, your hand landing in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss. Carl chuckled into your lips, responding with just as much confidence. As your lips touched, time stopped, and everything around you faded away; nothing else mattered at that moment except for each other. As your bodies pressed together, the tension you’ve been building up suddenly released in an electrifying rush.

The forest was still and quiet early in the morning before the light even touched the horizon. The riverbank nearby made soft noises, its rushing waters calming in their constant flow. The sun had not yet greeted the world, and the dew that had settled the night before was just beginning to vanish in the early morning’s heat. 

You chased Carl through the clearing, laughing quietly, playing a game of tag while you escorted him halfway home.

The dew from the grass had saturated your jeans, the moisture seeping into the fabric effortlessly. Your pants were almost soaked through from the ankles all the way up to your knees. A small puddle of water even seeped into one of your sneakers, your foot squelching with every step you took.

Despite that, you were fast on your feet, and just when you were about to catch the back of Carl’s shirt in your grasp, the groans of undead filled the air. Their sounds alone turned the peaceful early morning eerie. Their groans seemed to come from all directions, the sound somehow omnipresent, as if it came from within and without, surrounding you. You could feel your hair stand on end as the happiness evaporated from your veins.

Your companion stopped so abruptly in his tracks that you couldn’t stop in time and ran headfirst into him, the impact causing you to release an involuntary grunt. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled, your hand instantly grabbing Carl’s arm in a tight, protective grip.

You looked into the distance to the dirt road leading to Alexandria. A herd of walkers moved forward in the direction of Carl’s community, one of the biggest ones you’ve encountered in your life. Your breath hitched in your throat, your hand shaking. They marched in a line so long you didn’t see the end of it. 

“We gotta get out of here,” you whispered right into his ear, pulling his arm in the opposite direction. You had to get as far as possible from the herd. 

“No, I need to get home,” Carl sneered, stubbornly planting his feet on the ground beneath. He didn’t even give you so much as a glance. 

“Not fucking happening. Let’s go. You’re not coming anywhere near them.” Your voice was firm; it wasn’t a request. 

The young Grimes stood silently for a minute, observing the herd in the distance. He didn’t know what to do; if his dad noticed his disappearance, he’d panic and send people to look for him. He didn’t want them to walk into this death trap, but at the same time, there was no way he’d get through the walkers unnoticed. 

“Carl,” he could hear the slight shift in the tone of your voice. It became stern. You’ve never spoken to him this way before. He knew that he had no choice but to go with you.

Finally, he nodded his head and let you guide him the opposite way. You traveled in silence, on high alert at all times. Your eyes scanned the horizon, and your ears strained to listen for the slightest hint of danger. You couldn’t risk gaining the attention of any of the walkers. If just one noticed you, it’d all be over.

After hours of walking, you reached the gates of a community unknown to Carl. He looked quizzically between you and the tall gates, but you could see the annoyance and suspicion spreading through his face.

“You brought me to the Sanctuary? Right under your father’s nose?” he questioned, fuming. He quickly pulled his hand out of yours and stepped away from your reach. How could you do this to him?

For a moment, you were oblivious to his suspicions and looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t play dumb!” Carl’s voice was booming as he stared you down, fists clenched.

Your eyes jumped from Carl to the community’s gates, then back to your companion again. You quickly understood what he feared. “Well, I’m flattered you think the Sanctuary looks like this.”

Carl seemed disoriented; he blinked fast as the hatred fell from his face. He felt terrible that it took just this to make him doubt you and withdraw his trust. The boy looked down at the dirt beneath his boots.

“I wouldn’t take you there Carl.”

He nodded, reassured by your words, but still didn’t raise his head. “I’m sorry, I just freaked out.”

You walked toward him, your hand gently grasping his chin to make him look at you. You pecked his cheek softly before pulling him towards the gates. “This is the Kingdom. We’ll be safe here and we can rest a little before going home.”

“Are you sure? How do you even know about this place?” he questioned but followed you without any resistance.

“Uhh…” You scratched your neck bashfully. “It’s a long story. I will tell you someday, I promise.”

Upon reaching the gates, the man on watch duty stood up abruptly, revealing the biggest, friendliest smile as he recognized your face. Waving you in, he called to someone else to let you inside. You slipped through the crack in the gates without waiting a second longer.

Carl observed as the unfamiliar man greeted you by name with his arms outstretched and his face full of joy. You rushed up to him, throwing your own arms around his solid frame, a playful fight unfolding between the two of you before you remembered about your companion.

“Jerry, this is Carl.” The man raised his eyebrow, anticipating that you’d add something more to the introduction. So you humored him, “My boyfriend.”

“Didn’t think anyone would like your overconfident ass,” he joked, letting out a deep chuckle as you clutched your chest in the feigned offense. 

“Me? Overconfident?” You snorted, crossing your arms. “Never.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jerry waved you off before changing the topic. “What brings you here so early?” 

“I hoped we could crash here for a few hours. We almost bumped into a herd,” you explained, your happiness faltering at the memory. 

“You’re always welcome here, you know that.” The man patted your shoulder reassuringly. He didn’t need more explanation. 

You smiled, nodding gratefully at him before your hand found Carl’s, and you pulled him down the path deeper into the community. 

“Come on, I know a place.”

You took him to a small clearing on the other side of the community, a makeshift garden nearby. You pulled him onto a comfortable hammock hanging between two apple trees. As the sun rose in the sky, you both basked in its warm glow and dozed off in peaceful slumber.

Even though you both would likely be in trouble once you reached your homes, the temporary escape was more than worth it. Carl’s company was worth all the trouble in the world. There was no place you wouldn’t have gone with him, no distance you wouldn’t have traveled, and no experience that wasn’t worth sharing with him.

Maybe someday, we can just live here.

TAGLIST

@thatcucumberwhore @yttricuz @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @humanmistakes @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff  @khaleesihavilliard @leafy-sprouts @spenceslovcr

[katsus-world]

“The air always is better at night. And the stars are out and no one is bugging me. It’s like when the sun sets, I’m alive ‘suks.” Your voice fills his ears, tone relaxed. You switch your camera to show katsuki the sky, beautiful bright stars on display and not a cloud in sight.

“If you get caught, aizawa will give you house arrest again.” Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at the thought of you not in front of him in class. He grumbles as he lays on his side, bed creaking under the weight of his toned body.

“Geez, don’t say that. You’re gonna manifest me getting in trouble!” You giggle softly, a little wave of nervousness met in your laugh.

“You shouldn’t even be out. Curfew was at 9.” You hear him smack his lips and you switch the camera so it showed your face.

Even though katsuki couldn’t see you properly, he read your features easily. You had a grin on your face and a glow in your eyes that showed defiance.

“Live a little Kats. Plus the weather is amazing.” You lifted the phone and spun. A smile plastered on your face. Your lips ear to ear. Eyes closed in bliss as the cool air made your hair lift ever so slightly, just enough to make you take in a big gulp of the crisp oxygen.

The sight of you like this, so happy, so relaxed, so beautiful. Oh, how it made his heart melt, a small smile pulled at his pink lips. How he longed to be outside with you right now. To have his hands on your hips, to spin you around himself in the air.

To be frank, he missed you. Even though you were on the phone with him right now.he missed the closeness of having you by his side. Of hearing your voice ring close to his ear. Of your pretty lips on his whenever he said something cheesy that you just have to give him a peck.

“Yer’ pretty.” He says lowly. And it makes you bite the inside of your cheek. He “hmfs” in satisfaction, knowing that your face is probably hot right now. His is too but the lights in his dorm are off and the little light raiding off his phone only illuminates his beautiful scarlet eyes who are currently staring right at you.

“What a romantic.” You finally say and katsuki clicks his tongue in response.

“Hurry up and get back. Aizawa’s gonna kill you if you ain’t back by 10. Y’know he does his check ups at 10.” You nod with a sigh and the sound of leaves crunching under your shoe makes katsuki sigh in relief that you’re listening to him.

“Katsuki, when we get old and if we’re still together, let’s own a farm. Away from the city and just us.” You say softly and katsuki pauses his shifting.

“That doesn’t sound bad.. and of course we’re still gonna’ be together. Don’t say stupid shit.” You smile at his words, knowing that you and the hot head aren’t going anywhere but up.

“You know what does sound good right now though, two weeks of house arrest.” Your body freezes and katsuki’s breath gets stuck in his throat.

Slowly you turn around and see your teacher with his scarf hovering around his neck and head, eyes red because of his quirk, and face in a fit of annoyance and anger.

“And don’t think I forgot about you Bakugou.” And for the next two weeks you were stuck cleaning dorms and having to zoom call the class. And for your boyfriend, he got three days of detention for knowing and letting you go out into the U.A woods.

(≖᷆︵︣≖)👎 (≖᷆︵︣≖)👎 (≖᷆︵︣≖)👎 (≖᷆︵︣≖)👎 (≖᷆︵︣≖)👎

Hiiii!! So little life update but now I have two jobs! 😭 but I do have a lot of drafts that need tweaking and finishing!! And a lot are more on the darker side, (stalker, Yandere) and will have smut!! But for right now have this little fluff, I have been loving the weather right now, it’s so fresh! ^~^

[firefly--bright]

blooming hearts.

jean kirstein x reader, reincarnation au

chapter three - growth//act one

chapter warnings ; canon typical violence, death, mourning, mentions of suicide.

✿ previous ✿ series masterlist ✿ next ✿

Jean hadn’t known what he was getting into when he scowled at you from afar on initiation day. If he had, maybe he would’ve stopped it, and maybe it would’ve taken him faster to finally accept defeat and pray that his feelings would go away.

No, because even if he prayed to someone who never had the ears to empathize with him and lessen the burden of being in love, he knew he’d regret his wishes coming true. Loving you was the light that he’d hoped for – always present, never flickering, always standing and beautiful. He’d get burnt a thousand times over if it meant he could feel what your warmth again.

He couldn’t put a date to all the times he thought you were the hope. Of how many times he’d looked at his right side with tenderness in his eyes without even trying, of how many times he’d thought you were made out of everything he was curious about – the stars, fire, the sun. even when it was after training and you were sweaty and sat under the shade of a large tree, he wondered how you maintained your warmth in the blazing heat without making him suffocate.

You were on his right as always, he’d find out, as he relaxed lazily on the lush green grass, feeling the inkling of a breeze wash over him. He could only faintly hear his friends and their excited cheers – marco talking to armin about the book that they had read, something jean wasn’t all that interested in, mikasa softly telling eren that he’s doing better in training with the gear and jean could almost see the way the latter’s face would’ve gone red even if jean was looking at the sky above him. Connie and sasha argued bravely with reiner, the blonde's boisterous laugh taking over the whole field. Nothing could reach jean’s ears, however, because when he turned to look at you, on his damned right, you were looking at the clouds just as he was.

He shuddered. Summer in July with a full, heavy uniform on, he shuddered.

And his heart was beating so fast in his chest and he could hear it, almost taste it, when you turned around to look at him and smiled brightly.

Someone called your name. “how’d it go for you guys?” marco asked, armin turning towards you. jean watched as you shrugged and it all seemed effortless – uncalculated, relaxed, you responded with a soft smile, “y’know. Can’t complain. Reiner did try to shove me into a tree, though-“

“that was an accident, I’d never-“

“no, you did! I saw you!” sasha says, pointing at the blonde who looks around for support, red with embarrassment. Jean finds the strength to sit back up, his weight on his forearms, and you turn to look at him after instigating the bickering that now seemingly everyone but you and jean were a part of. He wondered if you could detect the softness that filled his eyes as he looked at you. you offered him your waterbottle, noticing the sweat on his brow, turning back to the conversation – if you could even call it that – at hand.

“I mean, it couldn’t have been intentional-“ bert reasoned, to which eren remarked “reiner’s a team player, though!” at reiner's defence. The man looked like a deflated version of himself, looking down at his lap shamefully.

You laughed. “total team player. Sorry, reiner.”

“honestly, I don’t blame you. if his big-“ connie gestures to his chest, cupping the air around it, “-bumped into me, i'd also fall into a tree.”

Eren laughs. Jean groans, his face scrunching up. “do you want me to tell everyone what happened last night?” he says with a smirk, leaning into the conversation, and connie’s eyes go comically wide.

“no-“ he says, his voice cracking, and the chatter breaks out once more, everyone urging jean to continue.

Marco glances at him with a smile. You and jean make a good team, he thinks, and he wonders how long it’ll take for the two of you to realise it without any help from him. The moment you stop talking, he completes you, without hesitation and with the same sharp glint in his eye as yours. marco always pride himself as an astute observer, the same as his best friend, but unlike the latter, he wouldn’t point out his discoveries outright, not without some coaxing or unless it was absolutely needed. So of course – even if it had been obvious to everyone else except maybe eren – the way you and jean conversed and acted like two halves of the same being didn’t go unnoticed by him, the way jean stole a couple spritz of his lavender perfume sometimes to make himself more “presentable” to no-one in particular, he knew it was for you. the way your shoulders relaxed under only jean’s soft gaze, the way you would try to spot jean’s ashy hair across the dining hall and would beeline towards him without hesitation. All of it, all the telltale signs of young love that was capable of turning so much more were all present, splayed out with its organs open to poking and prodding.

Marco wondered if this is how it would always be. If jean would always glance at you for a reaction while retelling a story against connie’s loud protests, if you would always laugh at his obvious attempts to bring connie down as much as connie did to jean.

Maybe it would. Maybe marco would always observe you two, skirting around your feelings because it was too obvious to say out loud.

And maybe it was, marco realized, his eyes squinting at your interaction with his best friend – unsaid, almost secret but not ashamed to be out in the open. He watches with only a little confusion as jean nods his head towards you with recognition and a small smile that barely reaches his cheeks and then he watches you, a stranger he doesn’t know the name of, do the same to him and almost wants to laugh at how obvious this is. But nobody else is watching, nobody witnesses the universe bait its breath and stop time for an intangible second.

And then, just as quick, you turn back to the rest of his friends and ask with your shoulders relaxed, “so, what would you guys like to order?”

Right. That’s what was happening. Marco blinks back at you.

“three cheesecakes. Wait, no, hold on-“ sasha says, and turns to her as connie squints at the menu again, no doubt having trouble reading, mustering up a loud but sure, “dooibos jelly!”

You tilt you head, “one rooibos jelly.”, you say, subtly correcting connie and marco laughs. “stupid ass name.” connie mutters, and jean’s head turns to him. “I know youre not talking, constance springer.”

Your movements still.

“that’s not even my real name. that’s fake. Like, I stole an id-”

“I have your birth certificate on my phone right now.” Sasha says, pulling out her phone from her pocket, but marco’s eyes are on you. “why the fuck do you have my birth-“ “research.” “the astrology bullshit again?” “something has to answer to this mess!” “excuse me? Im beautiful.” baldy - connie speaks.

Your fingers have gone stiff, shoulders tensed, blinking rapidly and it clicks. It makes sense. To marco atleast. He steps closer to the counter, placing his hands on the wood. “breathe, just breathe through it.”

Your eyes close, as if that would help with everything you were seeing. In the wooden, humid dining hall, connie stealing from your plate, repeating the same joke with him and the brown haired girl and doubling over with laughter as your beloved grumbled under his breath about how it wasn’t that funny but you knew he was smiling too; comforting connie after he lost his twin, accompanying him to ragako to see his family and listening to his stories about his small but loud village.

you did as you were told, not questioning Freckle’s instructions as you inhaled, exhaled. One, two three. Why did remembering have to be so painful? You could only faintly make out the concerned voices that filled around you, hands guiding your shoulders – they were warm and familiar is all you knew, all you wanted to know – and you try to focus on your breathing, but this name, this goddamn name sends you spiralling through a tornado, falling with you breath stuck in your chest; “connie springer” and his jokes, sitting in the dining room, standing near the stables, charging into an unfortunate carnage, flying through the trees as the branches scratch the side of your face, your cheeks stretched with the wide smile that spills from your lips, your laughter mixed with his travelling through the air because of a joke that was deemed lame by almost everyone but you.

A hand was intertwined with yours, pressing into your flesh with soft pressure despite its calluses, you note, another hand that you couldn’t feel through your clothes rested on your back, feeling the up and down of your breathing, moving their thumb in a small circle there. The wood pattern of the table infront of you, the small chatter from everyone in the café but your circle, the smell of fresh tea – chamomile, you think, you weren’t as good as Levi with the guessing game – berry flavoured gum that stained your tastebuds. Breathing in and then out. In and then out until connie springer became nothing but a name with a face and wrinkles around his eyes. Someone that could lighten the mood with one word. Someone that could hug you and pat your back awkwardly but with all the love he could muster up, which seemed to be a lot. Someone who was important to you. Was supposed to be important to you.

“better?” flower boy asks, and you know its important because he’s never looked at you like this, with this much warmth and knowing, and it was his hand holding yours. With flinching being involuntary, it left less of a choice for you to leave his grip. You can only find it in yourself to nod, a simple action bearing more than you want to imagine.

Connie’s on the other side of the table, looking at you eagerly. Freckles is to your right and Sunshine – this is what you will call her until you could have the courage to learn her name before you learn your own – is sitting to his right, connie’s left. Was his nickname just as heavy as his name? is that why you felt like this? You shift in your seat. You wonder how heavy your own name is.

“man, thought you died again with that look on your face.” Connie jokes, as always. Flower boy’s hand goes stiff in yours and you find it involuntary to squeeze it to relax him. Since when did you give yourself as much importance? Since when did you think that your touch could relax someone? Your hands have always been cold. Dead? Is that what connie said? Checked out.

“too soon.” Freckles says, a small smile on his face. Connie nods and shifts back in his seat. You don’t want to learn the rest of their names – not because you lack the courage or the grief but because you lacked the knowledge to. You couldn’t bear to hold that importance, the expectation that held up their faces, the same look your parents held, the same look that would be broken when you mentioned going to the university of paradis instead of the one you couldn’t get into. You couldn’t bear to break the news to them, their hopeful faces, looking at you for a word – your word, the one you hated to say out loud because it made your existence far more real than you’d like it to be, your name that was nothing but an outline of what you were supposed to be – and to watch their same faces fall because of everything you couldn’t provide. Your story was already written, however, because the next words you could think of were remnant of what you wanted to say and not what you were supposed to say, “so, what have you been up to?” with a pep in your voice that you didn’t recognize. You suppose you never have been able to recognize who you were.

Flower boy’s confusion to your avoidance terrified you, terrified of the importance you felt because you could identify his emotions without so much as a glance at his face. And then there were Sunshine and connie who talked over each other, their voices settling deep within your bones, everything you felt increasing tenfold, feeling like it was no longer contained within you but reached out of the boundaries of this store. It terrified you. You were giving yourself too much importance, a place that wasn’t supposed to be filled by you.

Freckles looked between the two of them, opening and closing his mouth to say something, interject their stories, and flower boy was still looking at you. You wondered what he was thinking. You wondered what you were thinking, too, to still be here. You had a plan, something that you were supposed to do. Complete high school graduation, something that would fulfil your parent’s wishes before everything else, pretend to care about further education, pretend to care about waking up no matter how exhausted your body was from never sleeping, pretend to eat, pretend to not lock your bathroom, pretend you didn’t want to let the ground bury you. It’s embrace would be infinitely warmer than whatever the air held, always smelling like built up guilt and discomfort that refused to leave no matter how many incense sticks you burnt, no matter how much smoke you filled up with. And then pretend to be alive for seven minutes as the cold felt warmer and the warmth felt colder. At least, that’s what it was supposed to feel like according to the minimal, hesitant research you had done about bodies after death.

Planned. Everything with you had to be put in perfect, cursive letters, reminding you of who you were supposed to be, of the shoes and clothes you were supposed to fill out. The heaviness of it all, too; you were listening, not quiet there, and it felt a lot like an apology. Like lost letters from friends who could never find the other’s new address because they never reached out to. It felt a lot like an admission of guilt than you actually being here, like this big performance the steps to which you were entirely unaware of, always teetering between the edge of being just enough and failing, always on thin ice.

Dead. That’s what you were supposed to be, right? Connie said it. Flower boy felt it, you were sure, and Freckles was aware of it. Sunshine tried to hide it entirely but the pea sized elephant in the room was made clear to you – you were not supposed to be here. Maybe some other, better, beautiful version of you was. she deserved it. You didnt know her but you knew that she did, and who were you to deprive her of that joy? The joy of getting to know the version of you that was long buried underground with dirt filling their lungs and whites of their eyes turned a cold grey. Whoever it was that you saw in your dreams – you refuse to call her your own name – was someone else entirely, crumpled under the weight of those fiery monsters in an island that went just as unnamed as you. Maybe that’s who they were looking for. You were dead, performing at a funeral of someone you’re supposed to know, someone youre supposed to be, and people are looking at you for answers you don’t have. They’re looking at you.

Theyre looking at you. You stare at the space between you and flower boy, Freckles is tapping you on the shoulder. You look up, theyre looking at you for answers you don’t have, expectant smiles on their faces for a voice you couldn’t bear to hear from yourself, for a name you could never make your own.

Sunshine shifts closer, her hands leaning on the table. You do the same, leaning in close so her excited whispers can reach your ears even though what she asks isn’t a secret. “what’s your name?”

right. You owe it to them.

You lean back. It hurts. You tell them who you are.

And then theres more silence. They seem to know how to deal with it – Sunshine leans back into her chair and stares as the ceiling much like connie, Freckles leans forward and rests his head on the table, flower boy stiffens entirely and you worry he isn’t breathing. He shifts closer to you without speaking and you let him. Who are you to stop him? They know you now. Or atleast, theyre supposed to. You rub circle’s on flower boy’s hand, rhythmic, performing. Speaking of a dead person was hard, especially since it was yourself. You never knew how to sign off on letters, you never knew how to give speeches or how to start them without sweating and now you had a crowd – a procession, some mourners for someone you were supposed to be – and it felt like an apologetic eulogy of someone you had never met but were supposed to know about, know of, become. It wasn’t you.

Maybe your parents were also mourners. The few friends turned strangers you had back where you regrettably grew up were also mourners.

but that was giving yourself too much importance. Who were you to have a funeral? You would never. But she – the you with the blades in your hands - could. she would. Was it him? flower boy? Who cried over your – her – dead figure drenched in blood, promising something important? Must’ve been him with the way he was holding you now but, then again, it wasn’t you being held. It was the body in the casket that went unburied not because she wasnt loved enough, but because she were loved too much.

Something that could never be you. Too much importance.

The silence was broken by Freckles. He smiled warmly, with familiar happiness, letters found by strangers turned friends after finding the right address to go to. “good to see you again.”

again, as if you’d met before. As if it was you who he’d met and loved.

You smiled back as performance, standing up with him as he took you in his arms, noting the way flower boy’s hands lingered in yours as you got up. she must’ve been important, this version of you that they had built up in their heads that you were sure to destroy with one wrong word. Freckles hugged you tightly, his arms circling your shoulders, his head resting on top of yours and you wonder if he thinks it’s an awkward form, one of your arms is pressed in between both your bodies, the other reaching around his back, your nametag digging into your chest, no doubt digging into his as well with your rapid breathing. Connie and Sunshine joined in a minute later, unable to stop themselves – how you could guess their emotions was a mystery to you. You were giving yourself too much importance, you assumed, flower boy’s hands engulfing the four of you now and despite the layers of arms covering you, you could feel his warmth the most.

You were giving yourself too much importance.

“connie, I cant breathe.” Sunshine says, her nose buried into Freckles’ dark blue sweater.

“its jean’s fault-“

“get your nose out of marco’s fucking big back-“

“just because im taller than sasha doesn’t mean I have a big ba-“

So many names being thrown without a care in the world; without the importance held under their tongues that you thought they’d hold. No longer Sunshine and flower boy and Freckles, their names meshed together with the memories and the pain of remembering, again, and you wondered why it had to be you. Why it had to be someone like you who had to hold this gun to your own head, you who had to recite a eulogy in front of strangers, you who had to forget and remember and forget again, why it was you who wasn’t allowed to give yourself too much importance, why it was you that was supposed to be important.

Your head buried itself further into Freckles’ – marco. Marco with constellations for freckles, marco who had asked you – her – for advice on what to give his youngest sister on her birthday while being so far away from her, marco who had told you your gear was loose before you headed headfirst into battle without knowing its consequences, marco who had told you that you and your flower boy make a good team after a mission, marco who’s face chewed off in an uneven chunk, half his limbs destroyed, his eyes closed. Without a goodbye.

Marco. His name was marco now, your eyes closed tighter, the chatter around you increased. Something about connie saying, “what did we do now?” only to be met with “did we not tell them our names?” “I don’t… I think we did?” “well clearly fucking not.” Followed by another pair of arms replacing marco’s, and the feeling itself made you crumble to your knees if it wasn’t for him holding you upright, your weight pressed onto him. He held you delicately, with a purpose you didn’t have the importance to serve. “I’ve got you. We’re here.” He says, and if just the sound of his voice could solve everything, you’d let him. You’d let him play god, you’d let him play with the strings of the universe that you’d let control you, you’d let him put you in your coffin and dig dirt on top of your stranger of a body.

“should I get them some tea? What’s their favourite?” previously Sunshine, now turned sasha asks. No, she was always sasha. Were you always yourself? You weren’t sure about that, but her voice makes you grimace, even with her honeyed tones flowing to your ears. It wasn’t her fault. No matter how much you tried to suppress all that you were feeling to show that you were fine because that’s what the mangled corpse of yourself would’ve done in another life, you don’t, because you're not her, and sasha’s voice serves as a reminder of her being a part of you. Bunking with her, her hair flowing over her shoulders as she took a hold of your hands and practically begged you to steal some extra rations from the kitchens, sitting on her bed after your first expedition, sitting in silence for the first time since you met her because both of you were incapable of having something to say to each other, opting to hold each other instead, brushing the knots out of her hair as she rambled to you about the countless horrifying ways her date with the blonde chef all while laughing at her drawn out conclusions about the end of the date that hadn’t even started yet.

And then there was him. Flower boy. Jean. His nickname felt just as heavy as connie’s, but if you had the strength to, you would’ve wondered why, knowing that the answer would be a low, inconsiderate hum from the universe, and the way your heart constricts in your chest makes you wonder if this serves as a punishment. The sin you hadn’t meant to commit, the sin of being someone else and trying to fill their uncomfortable shoes – maybe the hole in your chest was a cruel, albeit worthy, damnation and the only thing that brought you comfort was the fact that you had felt this before. That you had prepared yourself by knowing what it felt like to have nothing to thaw yourself from the frozen state you were in. even if it wasn’t in the same position as you were in right now, you had felt the drowning depth that your limbs ache into and ache for. The only problem was him. The same person who was quiet literally holding you up by the shoulders was the reason you were so conflicted, why everything felt worse because now you had people to let down. you knew what it was like to be held by him and you knew that it was him who was holding you and now you had to come to terms with the uncontrollable fact that you had to be the one to break his hopes. Tell him that the person he had been looking for was dead, waiting to be buried by him, body getting warmer by the minute because he was holding it’s corpse.

Dead. You were supposed to be dead, you had everything planned out. Complete highschool. Pretend. Dead. You were supposed to be dead but now jean’s warm breath is shifting the hair where his nose rested, his lips forming words you’re sure you can shape yourself into. You breathe out. He feels as real as nothing ever has and you shudder again and you think he thinks youre cold – you are – and he pulls his jacket off and on top of your shoulders as muscle memory even if your skin has never been used to the kindness he’s offering. Hes covering a corpse with his own hands. Bed of flowers growing over your previous body, you were sure, because only she was capable of growing something beautiful.

You control your breathing. You’ve done this before. back when you used to be afraid of the dark, back when everyone with a face claimed to hate you, back when the bathroom was your only respite to breathe. And then jean pulls away, only a little, and youre looking down at your shoes because you know his eyes will speak truth that you don’t want to read. His voice – vibrating, low, considerate, his – asks, “better now?”

Performance. Whoever you were in that life is capable of something far more beautiful than what you could say, and it’s a script that’s been provided for you, because you find the teetering strength to look up at him and speak, finally, with a voice that’s not yours because it’s alive. Or it’s pretending to be. “never better,” your teeth are rotting and falling out and there are maggots in your skull youre dead youre dead youre dead.

Jean smiles. The light falls down on his cheekbones and he looks like he belongs with this performance of you and youre glad your wear for worse body had provided him with a rare reason to smile like that, all soft and kind and eyes crinkled on the corners because he had lived. Your fingers move without the hesitant permission they usually openly have, brushing a lock of his hair behind his ear. His eyes fall shut momentarily, the universe baits it’s breath with patience that it hadn’t been kind enough to show you until now. You breathe in too, involuntary, unallowed, impatient, and your hand falls back down, resting on his chest, feeling the organ of his heart. A place you knew you belonged. Where she belonged. This new performance.

The stage has been set. All you have to do is act. Keep up the appearance of being the person they wanted you to be, all for the satisfaction of someone dead being miraculously alive. You wondered if your demise had anything to do with the way you unfortunately turned out – if the blood seeping out of you somehow tampered with the way you’d live (if you could dare to call it living) in this universe, in this life, but then you look over to sasha who’s deer-brown eyes have a glossy sheen to them, wide and waiting with her arms open, fingers waiting.

The stage has been set. All you have to do is act.

ACT 1, SCENE 1.

INTERIOR. BLOOM TEAS, 4:48 P.M.

SASHA’s arms open for POPPY. The lights filter in through the windows, afternoon warmth slipping into the cool of the store. CONNIE waits, expectant. MARCO’s smile is soft. flower boy JEAN’s hand on the small of POPPY's back. POPPY steps into SASHA’s embrace.

SASHA (smiling, voice cracking)

I missed you.

POPPY (reciprocating)

me too.

CONNIE (joining in)

stop gatekeeping the hug, sash.

SASHA

im not doing shit, baldy.

MARCO (joining in, chuckling)

this feels right.

flower boy JEAN (humming)

we should probably get out of here, though. That guy’s starin’ at us.

ALL turn their heads towards LEVI, who wipes down a cup, shooting glares towards the group.

POPPY

oh shit, I have to be at work right now.

SASHA (holding POPPY’s face in her hands.)

Her hands are soft, warm. Her thumb almost pokes into your eye but she’s careful to not let it.

does this mean we get stuff for free now?

MARCO

sash, I don’t think that’s allowed.

CONNIE

why not? POPPY’s an employee. There should be uh… a discount.

MARCO (turning to POPPY)

...is there?

POPPY

I wish, but no. we do get one free drink per day, though, and sometimes we get to take the leftovers home. I have some matcha cake in my fridge, if you’d like.

SASHA (grinning widely)

are you inviting us to have matcha cake at your place? D’ya have a crush on us or something?

Flower boy JEAN (groaning)

are you sure you wanna share with her, poppy?

SASHA (offended)

hey!

CONNIE

no, jean’s right. for the first time ever.

jean scrunches his face up. Its cute. If you had more importance and more of a connection to being a part of this play, you’d reach out to tap his nose with your index finger gently. Enough to annoy him but still find your affection.

MARCO

I really think we should leave, now that jean said it.

POPPY

don’t worry about it. That’s just levi.

Collective silence.

jean’s head rests on your shoulder for a moment. sasha and connie's face pales. you're not sure if its because of you saying his name out loud or if it’s because theyre still afraid of him. you wouldn’t blame them. marco simply tilts his head – you suppose he wasn’t there when levi had made everyone clean the cabin top to bottom five times over because he had found a singular speck of dirt under one of the beds.

CONNIE

yeah we should fucking get out of here I don’t want him to chop my fucking arm off.

SASHA

I don’t remember the last time I cleaned my room. Can he smell that on me? I feel like he can.

flower boy JEAN

I think he can hear it on you too. Hello captain.

LEVI enters the scene. All eyes are now on him.

LEVI

what's going on here?

CONNIE and SASHA salute, their fist against their chest.

BOTH (eyes screwed shut)

captain levi, sir!

flower boy JEAN (standing up straighter, fixing his posture.)

s-sir. Hello.

LEVI (narrowing his eyes)

names. Now.

FADING OUT

ACT 1, SCENE 2

INTERIOR. BLOOM TEAS, 9:56 P.M

you had the closing shift, and after serving some beverages and food – there were multiple rounds of this, considering sasha – and your hands shook with familiar cold as you pressed in the code to lock the back door of the café, your apartment keys heavy in your pocket, calling you back to your pyjama’s and mattress.

flower boy JEAN

hey, poppy.

POPPY flinches, turning around.

POPPY (smiling softly)

jesus, you scared me.

flower boy JEAN (also smiling, hands in his pockets)

boo.

POPPY

oh, im so scared… I hope a big strong man comes to save me.

flower boy JEAN (interlocking hands with POPPY)

right here, my love.

Huh. Love. It was strange how the nickname fell off his lips so nautrally, as if it were already there, as if it suited you and became who you were. But the name wasn’t meant for you. it was meant for this poppy. A reminder for you to stay on stage without breaking character.

POPPY (laughing softly)

were you waiting for me, flower boy?

flower boy JEAN

no, I was just… you know. Admiring this…. Beautiful alley. Yeah. Nice brick walls you got there.

POPPY (laughing)

yeah, I made them myself, thanks.

flower boy JEAN (starting to lead POPPY home)

I was going to drop you off. Missed you at the shop today.

POPPY

i forgot I took a double shift today. I would’ve told you last week if-

flower boy JEAN

its alright. Where do you live?

Another reminder that he doesn’t know you. this you, the one that half-assed decorating your apartment because you got too whipped up into the semester to care about how you lived. This you who couldn’t call any place a home. How could this you – someone who’s not a poppy or a love or a whoever he deems fit – compare to the one that had a temple built under her sacred name in the centre of jean’s heart?

POPPY

just straight and then a left. Takes about twenty minutes by foot.

flower boy JEAN hums.

Theres a lull in your barely-there script of a conversation, your hand still in his.

flower boy JEAN

you okay?

POPPY (smiling)

of course I am. Why?

flower boy JEAN

you’ve been acting kinda weird since you found out our names.

Fuck. Did he figure you out? Did you let yourself slip away? Youre supposed to be dead. Your grave was already made. Perfect coffin with your name crossed out and eyes forcefully screwed shut.

POPPY (leaning her head of flower boy JEAN’s shoulder)

just a little tired. I had a couple classes before work, so.

flower boy JEAN (humming)

wanna order some takeout when we reach your place? I know some really good pizza.

POPPY (smiling)

I’d like that.

FADING OUT, flower boy JEAN AND POPPY HAND IN HAND.

END OF ACT ONE.

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[dracowars]

Hi can I request a Harry Potter x Gryffindor reader where they’re actually the best of friends and she has liked him for years but she lost hope because it’s like he never sees her y’know? so when Harry starts to pursue Cho ( or someone else it’s up to you) , she decided that it’s time for her to move on but when Harry saw her getting close to someone else he just got really jealous and confess that he actually like her too, he just doesn’t want to ruin their friendship if it doesn’t work out? thanks!

i would | harry potter

pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader, harry x cho, neville x reader (platonic)

word count: 1,8k

summary: where harry is in love with y/n but doesn't want to destroy their friendship

a/n: all of my exams are finally over and i already know some of the results (i passed!!) i can't wait to get back into writing, hope you enjoy what i came up with here <3

warnings: angst, cursing

universe: harry potter

A sharp pain shoots through your heart at the words you just heard, but you immediately cover it up by forcing a smile onto your lips. But the way Harry looks at her in that moment, the way he admires her while she has the happiest expression on her face, makes it really difficult for you to pull yourself together.

Harry and you have been best friends ever since your first year in Hogwarts. You were always by each other's side, never leaving the other alone, supporting each other whenever you could. But being this close over several years turned your feelings into something that you should definitely not feel towards your supposedly best friend. You never wanted to admit it but you had to accept the truth. That is, that you are terribly in love with Harry Potter.

And Harry Potter is terribly in love with Cho Chang, the girl he just asked out on a date right in front of you.

This is his moment and you should not be the one to destroy it, especially not because you have some unaddressed and hidden feelings for your best friend. But it takes all of your strength to not intervene in their conversation, trying to support your friend by staying back.

You knew that this moment would come someday. That he would move on. That you would not have confessed your feelings and he would fall in love with another girl, leaving you behind with feelings you should not feel. Cho Chang seems to be this very lucky girl and by what you can observe, she is definitely head over heels for Harry.

And since you have lost all hope - he never saw you in that light anyway - you decide to be happy for him. If someone in this goddamn world deserves to be happy, it is Harry.

But you also know that you need to take care of yourself and need to sort out your feelings in order to finally let him go. So that you are finally able to move on. Without him by your side.

════════════

The door of the greenhouse falls close behind you while you are greeted with the fresh but cold air of another wintery day. The landscape is burried beneath a white blanket, small snowflakes falling from the clouds above you. You take a moment to look up into the sky, the sun peeking through the clouds, warming your skin.

Closing your eyes, you sigh deeply at the pictures that appear in front of you. How Harry and Cho sit in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in Hogsmeade, laughing and joking with each other while you stand across the street, watching them through the window.

Pulling your scarf tighter around your neck, you shake off the painful memories and take a few steps towards the castle when you feel a presence nearby, stopping you in your tracks. The next second, Harry stands in front of you, coming from within the building as it appears.

"I was searching for you everywhere!", Harry exclaims, giving you a small and awkward hug as a greeting. The smile he gives you melts your heart but it only takes a few moments until it suddenly vanishes from his lips, his dull eyes meeting yours after realizing where you were coming from. "So, you were with Neville again?"

His question throws you off. You were expecting him to tell you all about Cho and how wonderful and beautiful and just over all amazing she is. But here he is, asking you about Neville Longbottom.

"Yes, we had to finish some work for Professor Sprout and we work faster together", you answer his question truthfully, looking at him to observe any kind of reaction, even though you are not even sure what you wish to see.

"You are.. spending a lot of time with him recently", Harry says, almost whispering, as he puts on a smile that is clearly not real and would maybe fool some people, but most definitely not his best friend.

"I am. We get along really well, I like Neville", you reply, shrugging as you are not entirely sure where this conversation is going. Harry is behaving really really weird but you can't put your finger on it. At the end of your sentence, you notice how his eyes widen for a moment before he apparently regains his posture, clearing his throat.

"Where is Cho anyway?", you beat him to saying the next words, looking at him expectantly. What you did not expect, however, is for his whole body to suddenly slump together, his eyes dripping with sadness.

"It's over. Me and her, it didn't work", Harry utters under his breath, avoiding eye contact with you as he pinches the skin on his fingers.

"W-What? But you.. you looked so happy around her. God, I'm so sorry to hear that Harry", you say quietly, genuinely feeling bad for him. You are actually shocked. After seeing them together, always all over each other, you thought they would get married one day. They seemed so into each other and whenever you saw them, it felt like they were inseparable, adored the other the most. Harry did, that you know, but right now you are not so sure if Cho actually ever felt the same way he did.

"It's fine. It's not your fault, we are just not meant for each other apparently", Harry mentions and it makes you think that he is not really believing his own words. He seems genuinely heartbroken and overall sad. And you hate yourself for feeling that small inkling of hope inside of you, realizing that what you feel for him is not yet completely doomed. However, you want to slap yourself for thinking about this when Harry is obviously feeling miserable and needs his best friend to cheer him up, not his best friend who has hidden feelings for him that he does not know about.

"I- I don't even know what to say, Harry. Are you alright?", you ask, immediately regretting your question. Of course he is not alright after the love of his life rejected him.

"I'm just a bit.. confused. I thought everything was going well between us and then she says these things about me not being genuine about my feelings and then she goes on, saying I'm only ever talking about you and I don't even know what she means by that. Of course I talk about you a lot, you are my best friend, right? Why would I not talk about you?", Harry bursts out, all the emotions flowing out of him and into his words. However, you are not sure if you heard him correctly. "And-"

"Wait, wait. She said you are talking about me too much?", you ask, a bit irritated as well while you cannot ignore the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach at these words. He is constantly talking about you. Harry, the boy you love unconditionally, talks about you. And according to Cho Chang, he does that a lot. It takes a moment for you to realize that he is obviously only talking about you on a platonic basis, as his best friend and not his lover.

"Yeah. Is that.. wrong?", Harry asks you back, a questioning look on his face as his eyes switch between yours in search of an answer.

"N-No. I mean, Neville and I talked about you as well just now. But is Cho really that jealous of me?", you let out a small laugh, not really meaning it. But when Harry does not laugh with you, you immediately stop. "She is not, right?"

"Well, I don't really know what to think anymore. She said I'm not genuine about my true feelings because she feels like I'm in love with you, according to how often I talk about you or the way I apparently look at you", he answers, a clear uncertainty in his voice that he tries to hide nevertheless.

It is in that moment that you know that Cho is right. Harry does talk to you and about you a lot, probably not like other best friends do. He certainly does not talk about Hermione this often. And the way he looks at you is different from how he looks at Cho, but you always thought it was because she is the one. Not because you may be the one who is receiving all his affection.

"Y/N? Did I say something wrong?", Harry pulls you out of your thoughts after you zoomed out, trying to collect and order your thoughts. No, it can't be. Cho can't be right about his feelings. Or can she?

"Is it true?", is all you can ask. "What she said, is it true?"

"What? Y/N, are you-"

"I need to know, Harry. I haven't realized it before but now that you say it.. Isn't there the small possibility of her being correct?" You do not even know where all of this is coming from all of a sudden, but this feeling of hope inside of you takes full control over you and you cannot even stop the words from coming out.

"I- I don't know what you want me to say", Harry exclaims, desperation lacing his words. "I didn't think about her words too much. I thought she only searched for a reason to end things.. You are my best friend, Y/N. I can't-"

"Would that be so bad? Would it be so bad if we actually could?", you ask, directly looking at him. You said it and now you cannot take back your words. You just kind of displayed your feelings for your best friend out in the open and now he has all the power over you.

"Y/N.. I don't.. What about our friendship?", Harry says and this is all it takes for you to take the last and final step.

"So you would?"

"I- Of course I would! But we are best friends since first year, Y/N. I don't want to destroy everything we built up, everything we accomplished so far. You know, I think I always felt more for you than friends should but I- I can't let this come between us. I don't want it to come between-"

When your lips touch his in a soft kiss, he finally shuts up after confessing his feelings for you and the kiss is all it takes for all the worries and bad thoughts to disappear. There is only him and you, finally together. Harry slowly deepens the kiss and if you would not know better, you would think his life depends on it. The way he looks at you after breaking the kiss makes your knees weak.

"I would, too", you say, connecting your lips once more.

[putaposyinyourhair]

Slowly but Also Like All at Once

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

noah diaz x mirage (they’re… y’know 💅)

warnings: mirage keeps flirting like an asshole and noah’s still in his feels but it gets tender

arcee shows up (and you know she should come with her own caution label)

“So, um…” Noah pauses for a second, to think on his words before he says them aloud. “You look good.”

He physically flinches away from his own words— from his own stupidity— and squeezes his eyes shut, not able to stop himself from reaching up with both hands to dig his knuckles into his eye sockets.

Fuckin’ idiot.

But Mirage just chuckles at his expense and Noah forces the embarrassment away with a deep breath.

“I meant like— you look… new,” he tries to correct, even though it still sounds wrong. “How’d that happen?”

“Oh, you mean how’d they get humpty dumpty back together again?” Mirage drawls.

Noah shifts in the sand, pulling away from Mirage’s side— where he’s been resting for a while now— and turns to sit cross-legged in the sand, staring up at the bot.

Mirage is looking up at the sky. The stars are starting to disappear behind dark clouds but the moon is still shining brightly over the water, its light reflecting off of Mirage’s silver face plating.

“Yeah,” Noah alludes, curiously.

Mirage glances down at him, frowning softly for a moment— such a quick little moment that Noah barely catches it— before he shrugs.

“OP spent like ten weeks in the Mojave looking for one of our medics who crash-landed there,” the mech reveals. “Ratchet. Dude’s usually such a buzzkill but… he’s good at what he does. I’ll give him that.”

Noah’s brows arch.

A medic? A new autobot?

“How many of you are there?” he asks before he can stop himself. “On Earth, I mean.”

One side of Mirage’s mouth tugs up into a sly smirk and Noah rolls his eyes before the bot can even reply.

“I told you already, boo, there’s none like me,” he declares pompously.

Noah reaches out and attempts to shove at Mirage’s thigh guard, uselessly because it does absolutely nothing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Noah tells him. “You’re one of a kind.”

Mirage sits up, grinning.

“You better recognize!”

Noah barks out a short laugh.

“You a one of a kind dumbass,” he snickers softly.

Mirage reaches out to poke at his chest playfully and Noah tries to bat the digit away fruitlessly.

“Yeah, but you missed me,” the mech teases. “You already admitted it. No take backs.”

Noah doesn’t know why the words pull such a visceral reaction out of him, but they do. The happy smile drops from his face and he swallows drily.

“I did, man,” he concedes, fisting the material of his jeans in his hands. “I really fuckin’ did.”

Mirage moves so fast, it almost scares the shit out of Noah. The mech reaches out and suddenly Noah finds himself settled on top of the bot’s lap, pressed against his chest plates with one of Mirage’s servos cradling his back— well, the backpack strapped to his back anyway— whilst the other gently presses Noah’s face into the junction between his helm and his shoulderpad.

They’re… hugging?

Noah feels kind of frozen solid for a minute, unsure of what to do in this strange new situation. Sure, he’s been… inside— for lack of a better word— of Mirage before, in different modes of him too. And Noah doesn’t think either of them are strangers to physical proximity, after all they’d stuck pretty close to each other the whole time in Peru.

But this is something else. Something… more.

It’s nice though. Really nice.

So he relaxes into it.

It’s warm. And he can feel that same hum emanating from underneath the bot’s plating, like a low-frequency vibration that seems to soothe and calm something deep inside of Noah— he’s almost tempted to call it his soul, as corny as that fucking sounds.

Noah’s face feels more heated than usual.

“You a hugger, huh?” he mumbles, reaching up to run a few fingers against the glossy metal edge of that baseball cap-esque piece that rounds the back of Mirage’s helm.

This close, Mirage smells faintly of motor oil and something else Noah suspects must be alien in origin because he decides there’s no earthly scent he can compare it to. Not any that do it justice anyway.

Mirage’s digits move against the back of his head, digging into his curls as the mech’s chest plate’s rise and fall with a small stutter.

“For you?” he sighs. “Always.”

Noah’s eyes widen, his jaw clenching.

And his heart is fucking… fluttering. He really hopes his friend can’t feel it.

Something’s wrong. With him. Or with Mirage.

Noah doesn’t know what it is. But this is…

It is weird. Or, maybe not weird. Weird isn’t the right word for it.

“Mirage.”

Noah pulls away from the mech so fast, a yelp bursting out of him as he nearly tumbles off of the bot’s lap— he’s sure he would’ve gone sprawling into the sand between his friends’ outstretched legs had it not been for Mirage’s servos keeping him upright. He reaches out and grabs onto one of the bot’s gauntlets.

And before he can look away— to locate the source of the newcomer’s voice, a newcomer Noah is pretty sure is Arcee— he looks up at Mirage.

Oh.

Mirage’s face is doing… something. The mech’s optics are darker than usual— not glowing as bright a blue— and the silver metal just beneath his optics is tinged with a bluish hue, something Noah’s never seen it do before.

Noah doesn’t want to assume but it almost looks like a—

“Aww, Arcee, why you scarin’ my boy like that?” Mirage whines out, throwing his helm back like an unruly child who’s been told he has to eat all the vegetables on his plate. “His heart’s beating so fast!”

Okay, so Mirage can feel his heartbeat when they’re this close.

Wonderful.

Noah huffs— mortified but unwilling to admit it, even though his cheeks feel so flushed he probably looks like he could be doing an impression of a tomato— and reaches back to gently push away the servo Mirage has at his back.

“I wasn’t scared,” he grumbles, grunting as he steps down from Mirage’s lap and back onto the sand. “Jus’ surprised… that’s all.”

Arcee steps closer, smiling softly as she glances between them for a moment.

“Sorry, Noah,” she has the decency to apologize. “I really didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Noah waves her apology off.

“Nah, seriously,” he stresses, reaching up to grab onto the straps of his backpack. “I wasn’t scared or nothin’.”

Yeah, he kind of was. But he was mostly embarrassed.

Was it normal for cybertronians to hug humans? To hold humans the way Mirage was holding him?

Arcee isn’t giving him any indication. So maybe it’s not as big of a deal as it feels to Noah.

The femme fixes her gaze on Mirage, one optical ridge arching as both servos rest at her skirt plates. Her lower body cocking to one side as she watches the blue and silver bot rise off of the ground, raining sand down all over Noah who groans and steps away, reaching up to sweep it off of his head.

He’s definitely going to need a good, long shower later to get all that sand out of his curls.

“I said I’d cover for you for a couple of hours, Mirage,” Arcee points out, then mimics glancing down at a watch on her gauntlet in a very human-like way. “It’s been six.”

Noah’s eyes widen, glancing down at his own watch quickly.

Six hours? Oh, he definitely missed dinner. His ma’s gonna kill him.

It’s nearing sunrise already.

“It’s time,” Arcee emphasizes. "Optimus will not be pleased."

A sharp wave of what can only be panic rushes through Noah. It’s so quick, engulfing him from head to toe. He feels exactly the same way he’d felt when he’d had to stand there and watch Mirage be taken away. He thinks he makes some kind of tiny strangled noise.

The overwhelming sensation leaves him blanched and breathless.

“Arcee!” Mirage chastises, dropping to one knee beside Noah. “You’re not helping.”

Noah feels a couple of his friend’s digits slip underneath his chin and he lets the mech tenderly lift his face so he’s looking up into Mirage’s now bright blue optics.

“W-what is she talkin’ about?” he manages to squeak out, despite the dread that feels like it’s got a physical hold of his heart in his chest.

“It's nothing bad!” Mirage swears, holding his other servo up, palm out. “I promise.”

Noah swallows the lump in his throat and exhales shakily.

“Okay,” he yields. “Okay, sorry.”

He feels kind of stupid about his reaction, childish, and pulls his chin away from the mech's digits. But he doesn’t look away.

Mirage gives him a look that Noah thinks translates as sheepish, before he stands, optics flickering about for a moment like he’s struggling to make himself meet Noah’s unwavering gaze.

“Okay, so, uh,” Mirage stammers, reaching up to rub at the back of his helm with one slightly twitchy servo. “Well, you see, what had happened was—”

Arcee huffs.

“Ratchet has yet to give him the all clear so Optimus expressly forbid him from leaving," she reveals. "So of course he snuck out of the medbay without permission to come see you tonight, Noah.”

Oh. Yeah, sure.

Noah’s heart doesn’t feel like it’s swelling with joy and about to burst out of his chest or anything.

He’s totally like… chill about it.

[moutainrusing]

coffee shop

dorlene july event, 633 words, @enbysiriusblack

Drumming her fingers against the counter, Marlene looked up when the bell rang and her favourite customer ambled in, eight a.m. on the dot.

“Hiya, Dorcas,” she grinned.

“Morning, Marls” Dorcas returned. “How was babysitting Harry?” She asked, and Marlene’s heart swelled, because Dorcas just remembered all this stuff about her life. As if she were actually noteworthy.

“Oh, y’know,” Marlene replied lamely. What was she talking about? Of course Dorcas didn’t know, because she’d just asked, and Marlene was now spurting rubbish because she was an incoherent loser, not noteworthy at all.

“Um,” she filled in while making Dorcas’s daily order, “He’s a toddler so,” she placed a medium cup underneath the machine, “Y’know how they are,” she jabbed the button, “Well, he’s actually better than most toddlers,” she shifted the cup to blend it with another ground, “So much more thoughtful,” she trickled in a drop of honey, “Though he can be a cheeky shit.”

She paused and hummed thoughtfully, “Not sure if it’s his fault, he definitely inherited it from somewhere.”

Dorcas smiled, “You mean someone?”

“Of course,” Marlene grinned, throwing James and Lily under the bus. “Both parents, in fact.”

“Maybe it’s also nurture,” Dorcas suggested. “Maybe he learnt it from,” she looked pointedly at Marlene.

Marlene gasped in faux-offence. “Moi? I’ll have you know, I’m the opposite of a cheeky shit. I’m a kind old motherfucker.”

Dorcas snorted, grabbing her cup as she poured some milk in it, swirling it in a uniquely original pattern.

“Oi,” Marlene frowned. “That’s my job!”

Dorcas blinked up at her. “I like doing your job.”

Marlene hesitated. What did that mean? Finally, “Join the coffee shop then.”

Dorcas smiled, “Maybe I will. More quality time with you, right?”

“Sure,” Marlene hummed, unsure if this was serious. It probably wasn’t. Just take it in your stride, she advised herself. She stared at the milk swirling in Dorcas’s cup. It was like watching white, fluffy clouds in the sky, trying to fit them into certain shapes, but this time she was looking below, falling into mellow, milky spirals, and she wasn’t the one trying to fit them into shapes; they were fitting themselves into shapes.

And they were making twisting vines, little leaves budding from the edges, and the shape of the leaves? Blossoming hearts. Of milk.

“Oh!” Marlene exclaimed. “I was trying to get Harry to drink his milk, ‘cause the kid must get his intake of calcium,” she dramatised, “But then he decided to start laughing while I tried to make him drink — and I wasn’t being funny, but I suppose toddlers think it’s hilarious when adults start begging,” she grumbled.

“Like, c’mon, all I want is for him to drink his sodding milk, is it really that hard?! And I was not begging, anyway,” Marlene rambled. “So he started laughing, and then he snorted some milk, and y’know what happens when you laugh while drinking?”

They both burst into peals of laughter.

“Oh, poor thing,” Dorcas sympathised with Harry.

“Yeah,” Marlene nodded reminiscently. “He was so shocked, then terrified, and the mess was awful. I had to calm him down and clean up. But hey, after, we had a good laugh. I mean, I could’ve done with an extra pair of hands, but all-in-all. Harry’s awesome.”

Dorcas smiled. “Sounds like it. And, if you ever do need an extra pair of hands, let me know, and ask Harry’s parents. If allowed, I’d be happy to babysit with you.”

“I… yeah, that sounds lovely,” Marlene returned softly.

“Yeah?” Dorcas beamed, taking her cup. “Alright, I gotta go, but see you soon!”

She turned, and the bell rang. “See you,” Marlene murmured, staring through the glass at her back. She was definitely going to ask for Dorcas’s help now. Necessary or not.

[lyranova]

Different Soulmates

Hiya guys! So, i was actually going to wait and post this one after a couple of other fics, but I decided to go ahead and post this one first since it gives some info about the Soulmate AU 😆! I hope you all enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,215

Warnings: Tattoos and mentions of Scars

————

“ Hey Yuno, wanna race up that hill?” Asta asked with a grin, and he watched his best friend turn towards him with a raised brow.

“ Why would I want to do that?” He asked, and Asta scoffed.

“ Because it’s fun, and it’s also a form of training!” He explained with a bright smile.

Yuno stared at his friend for a moment.

“ No thanks.”

Asta groaned loudly.

“ Aw c’mon Yuno, just a short race up that hill!”

Yuno just shook his head.

“ No thanks.” He repeated before he began to turn away.

“ What? Is the great Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn scared he’s gonna lose?” Asta asked as he crossed his arms.

Yuno stopped in his tracks at his words; it was bait. Asta was baiting him, they both knew it, and Yuno knew he most certainly shouldn’t take it.

But he did.

Without saying a word Yuno quickly ran past Asta and began to run up the hill.

“ Huh? Hey, that’s cheating!” He shouted before quickly running after Yuno.

“ Now who’s worried they’re going to lose?” Yuno threw over his shoulder with a confident smirk on his face.

Asta let out a loud yell and began to run faster up the hill.

“ I won’t lose!”

Yuno couldn’t help but chuckle as his friend caught up to him and began to surpass him.

“ And neither will I!”

The two went back and forth as they ran further and further up the hill, with Asta sometimes pulling ahead, and Yuno pulling ahead at other times.

But when the pair reached the top, neither Asta, nor Yuno, won; it was a tie.

The two young men flopped down onto the grassy hill and stared up at the cloud filled sky.

When was the last time the two of them were able to hang out like this? Asta wondered as he watched a big, fluffy cloud float above them.

Probably…before the raid on the Spade Kingdom? Or perhaps even before they became Magic Knights?

“ Stop thinking,” Yuno suddenly said, his arm draped over his eyes. “ It’ll only make your head hurt.”

Asta’s head snapped in his friend's direction.

“ Hey what’s that supposed to mean?!” He shouted as he sat up, but Yuno didn’t reply; instead he just smirked at him, which only made Asta sigh in aggravation.

“ You’re a real jerk sometimes, y’know that?!” He muttered as he laid back down on the grass, but again Yuno didn’t reply; he just chuckled in amusement.

“ Anyway, I was just trying to remember when the last time we hung out like this was,” Asta explained as he placed his arms behind his head.

Yuno hummed in thought as he moved his arm from over his eyes to his forehead.

“ Hm…probably before we left for the Magic Knights entrance exam?” He muttered as his brows furrowed in thought.

“ That’s what I thought,” Asta muttered as he watched another cloud pass over them.

“ Do you ever wish we could go back to that time?” Asta suddenly asked, causing Yuno to hum and turn to look at his friend.

“ No. Do you?”

Asta shook his head.

“ Nope! I’m happy where I’m at, even though I miss hanging out with you!”

Yuno smiled and nodded.

“ Me too.”

A silence washed over the friends for a moment before Asta suddenly spoke.

“ But hey, once I’m Wizard King I’m sure we’ll get to hang out a lot more together!” He told Yuno cheerfully as he turned to look at him.

He raised a brow at Asta.

“ You mean when I’m Wizard King?”

Asta shook his head, and opened his mouth to argue before he felt a stinging pain on the back of his left hand.

“ Huh? What the heck?!”

Yuno frowned, and then let out a painful hiss and stared at the back of his left hand.

“ Is that a tattoo?!” Asta shouted as he saw a mark slowly begin to appear on the back of Yuno’s left hand.

When the stinging subsided the two noticed a pair of similar, yet different, designs on the back of their hands.

On the back of Yuno’s hand was a five leaf clover and above it was a red star that matched the back of Asta’s headband.

On the back of Asta’s hand was a four leaf clover with a spade in the center and a gold star above it that was similar to Yuno’s Star Magic.

The young men looked up from their hands and stared at each other.

What the heck were these?!

————

“ Well, it looks like it’s a tattoo.” Owen muttered as he inspected the marks on the back of Asta and Yuno’s hands.

“ Like a soulmate tattoo?” Yuno questioned with a slightly raised brow.

“ Actually-.” Owen began but was cut off by Asta.

“ So does that mean that Yuno’s my soulmate?!” Asta asked loudly, his tone clearly surprised.

Meanwhile, Yuno gave Owen a deadpan look.

“ Seriously?”

Asta’s head snapped in Yuno’s direction.

“ ‘Seriously’? What’s that supposed to mean?” Asta asked, his tone switching from surprised to annoyed.

“ You know exactly what I mean,” Yuno began as he turned to look at his friend.

“ I could do a lot better than you.”

A shocked gasp escaped Asta.

“ Excuse me?! You’d be lucky to have me as your soulmate, I’m one heck of a catch!” Asta exclaimed, which made Yuno raise a brow at him.

“ I don’t see it.”

Before Asta could argue more with Yuno, Owen interrupted them.

“ Um, actually, having a tattoo with someone means you’re platonic soulmates. Not romantic ones.” Owen quickly explained.

Asta and Yuno both turned to look at him.

“ Platonic soulmates?” They repeated in slight confusion, which made Owen nod.

“ Yes. You see, in this world you have platonic soulmates and romantic ones; shared tattoos signify platonic, while scars signify romantic. Some people have both, some have neither, and some just have one.”

“ And the biggest difference between platonic and romantic soulmates is that you can have more than one platonic soulmate as opposed to having only one romantic soulmate.” Owen finished as he crossed his arms.

The boys looked at him for a moment as they absorbed the information.

“ That explains why Captain Yami has so many tattoos on his arm,” Asta muttered as it all seemed to click in his head.

“ So, when we meet our romantic soulmates, we’ll have the same scars as them?” Yuno asked, his tone curious as he placed a hand under his chin.

Owen nodded.

“ Yep. And sometimes the scars will be new, or sometimes you’ll develop a scar that your soulmate already has or vice-versa.”

“ That means there’s still a chance that Sister Lily could be my soulmate?!” Asta suddenly exclaimed, causing Yuno and Owen to look at him.

“ Asta, Sister Lily is a nun.” Yuno said in a deadpan voice.

“ So?”

“ ‘So?’ So, that means she can’t get married, and it’s extremely likely that she doesn’t have a soulmate.” Yuno pointed out.

“ Who says she can’t get married and likely doesn’t have a soulmate?!” Asta asked and Yuno stared at him with that deadpan expression again.

“ Uh, the church?”

As the young men went back and forth, Owen couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head.

It was no wonder to him how the two of the them were platonic soulmates.

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[thepachy]

Both were sat on top of the building, looking at the cages of the new "recruits", a beer in hand and sharing a cigarette in silence as the day started to fade.

Y’know, i don’t know if it was because i was drunk but the other day i had a dream

Mmh ? You ripping someone head with your bare hands or some shit ?

The man gave a little chuckle and took a sip of his beer

Nah, it was different…

So ? You had hunted a big prize ?

Okay, okay. It was like, After a long day of chopping some wood, all sweaty and all, i took a beer and sat my old ass on a chair on the porch of the wooden house i built myself in the middle of the woods. Few gray hairs in my beard. No cult, no resistance, no bullshit and i just looked at the peaceful sky and clouds, then looked down in front of me….

He took a little moment to continue

Looking at that exasperating man in front of me, in his little garden, stirring the earth with his hoe just because he thought i had to eat more vegetables…

Eric glanced at Jacob, the sunset light on him, he thought the alcohol made him hear things

Weird dream uh ?

Mh.. yeah"

Eric looked at Jacob and tried to imagine the scene… it was something that would probably never happen but that Jacob dreamed about that was… interesting ? Jacob then turned back to Eric, thrown his empty bottle and took the cigarette and smiled

If one day you force me to sit and eat vegetables like if i was an old weak man that can’t even piss alone, trust me I’ll put your carrots at places you don’t even want to imagine, got it ,honey ?

Eric couldn’t not let out a laugh at that but still felt amused, he loved those rare moments, his favorite moment of the day, a sunset and his favorite person, an old insufferable man, they laughed for a moment and leaned on each other for a brief moment of tranquility