#My pup doin’ a wink and a smile!

[rdiowx]

im in a mood rn.. curling up on top of frank just for him to pat my head and continue what he was doin. sleeping in little patches of sun wherever in the house, wearing a collar he picked with me in mind <3 wearing his clothes so i can keep his scent with me (and also because they’re oversized). feeling him run his hands through my hair and down my back and kiss my hair and forehead. nuzzling his neck and feeling him hold me close to him, my arms and legs wrapped around him. him calling me ‘sweet baby��� and ‘bug’ and ‘pup’ and other little pet names while telling me he loves me. complimenting me and patting my ass while im walking past and shooting me a cute smile. teasing me with a wink and small pat to the head while baking with him and asking me to dance while we wait for the goods to finish baking.

I frogot about tumblr

He takes care of you so well, even if he is busy he makes sure he always has space for you wherever he is, doesnt matter if its on the couch or at his desk. He pets you and tells you you’re a good boy making sure he keeps a hand on you at all times.

Buys you a collar just for you and loves seeing you wear it, makes him feel so proud. Loves talking you on walks and making sure you dont get all your sun from the window. Then he takes you back home and cooks with you. Makes sure everything tastes good by making you taste it.

[softkuna]

𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 | meian shugo

𝚆𝚎���𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑... 𝙼𝙴𝙸𝙰𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝙶𝙾

Meian settled into a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon that he rented from some fancy schmancy place. His date would be waiting for him not too far from that point. From her profile photos, she was cute. Small from what it seemed, but when you’re 6’5” most people were small. The profile was very obviously not written by herself seeing as most the answers included “my friend likes…”

He pulled up the map and sent an ETA through the app. He rolled the window down, letting an arm fold out while his hand remained on the wheel. Driving was his serenity and it was a damn shame he couldn’t drive as often as he wanted to. He was a humble man, not one to brag about his garage of cars. Not one to talk about how he liked to fix’em up.

It took all of 15 minutes to reach the meet up point. He saw you, but your head was down in your phone, hand along your neck and fingers tapping at the skin. He was supposed to be your boyfriend for the day. He had a date or two already to which he was tipped generously for his time. It was a natural thing for him. He was a relationship type of guy. He was always more on the natural air of things, confidence coming with age. With a face like his and a career like his, it could only grow with each person who approached him.

But for some reason, seeing you look so nervous while waiting for him made him want to not lay it on so heavy. Others he laid it thick with the ‘doll face,’ ‘pup’, ‘sugar’. (One date he didn’t even need to leave his room. It was a zoom call where he had his camera off. She had told him ‘I want you to piss my parents off.’ )

You looked up to see your date for the evening, Meian Shugo. He was in a black Jeep, high off the ground. His smile was broad, confident, gleaming. All the confidence you had built up from Shoyo had suddenly vanished. You thought you’d do so well this time but the butterflies swarmed in your stomach so violently you feared their wings would cut through your stomach.

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other until he barked a laugh and hopped out of the car. Oh lord he was huge. Massive. You resisted every fiber of your being that wanted to ask him about the weather.

Meian placed a hand gently between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the opened passenger side door, “I don’t bite… much.” With a wink, he closed your door and sat on his own side.

“I-is this your car?” Your stammering was adorable.

“Nah,” he waved a large hand, “Rented it. I do own one like it back home.” He gestured a thumb behind him, pointing to a figurative ‘home.’ You nodded once and fluttered fingers to your cheeks, covering the blush when you felt his eyes on you.

He blinked at your non-winter-weather outfit; light wash and high waisted denim shorts with a thick belt. They looked big, but he figured that was the style now’a days. You had on some cream colored spaghetti strap tank top that cropped just above the belt. And a dusty pink cardigan made of…

“Ey, hon, what’s this fabric? Mind if I-?” He pinched a little between his fingers, rubbing the material. It was soft. Really soft. Nothing like he’s seen before.

“Polyester? I think??” You pulled it off and looked at the tag, “Yep! It’s not mine though. It’s my friend’s. They likes to dress me up.”

“Aren’t ya cold?”

“A little, but we’re in a car so it’s no big deal.”

His arm hung out the window, pulling back in to shift gears here and there. You stared out to the horizon, stiff as a board. You weren’t the easiest to talk to at first, often muttering single worded responses.

You couldn’t help it. He was handsome as hell. Shoyo had a boyish charm to him, especially with how energetic he was, but Meian. He was a man. A sharp edge to him that definitely couldn’t be read as anything other than comfortable masculinity.

Snapping out of your daze, you perked. You were going across a bridge. A beautiful one at that. You could see the sun just above the ocean. Probably an hour or two before sunset. Both of your hands gripped the car window,  “Meian,” you called with a slight pitch in your voice, “this is gorgeous!” You beamed at him a tad over-excitedly.

His lazy smile broadened, “Figured you’d like it.” It did say in your profile that it was one of your favorite spots to be at.

Within another set of minutes, awkward silence melted into comfort. The car stopped in an empty parking lot. It wasn’t like there were many people at the beach around 4 PM on a winter weekday. Your eyes were glued on the man as you watched his hand shift the gear to park and suddenly you remembered his proposition.

You were learning how to drive a stick shift.

“Alright pup, gonna teach ya a new trick,” He reached underneath the seat, craning it back as far as it could go. Not like it was far considering how long those legs were. Nervously you unbuckled, leaning on the console to peer at the petals.

Your heart stopped and your lips pursed slightly. Meian took one look at your expression and bit back his laugh. You looked up to him with a crease in your brow, “Why are there three petals?”

Soon enough, you were in the driver’s seat and he was in the passenger side. You searched for the lever to pull the seat up and blushed when Meian reached under to show you. At this point, it wasn’t even that he was uncomfortable to be with. It was quite the opposite. He was relaxed and maybe a little teasing. If people were colors, he’d be a serene seafoam. No, what made you nervous was how attractive you found him and how he so perfectly acted out the role of boyfriend.

“Let’s start in first, ‘kay?”

You nodded, swallowing down your anxiety. Push out of your comfort zone. More like shove you out the comfort window.

“Remember which one’s the break?” Meian peered to your legs, foot hesitantly over what you thought was the break, “Good! Now what?”

“Emergency break?” Now it was your hand’s turn to hover.

“Atta girl!” He was impressed at your memory. Most people would’ve forgotten that step if they only drove automatic. When his eyes met yours he could swear to god he saw the sparks light up in them. So you’re a praise learner, huh?

You glanced down, moving your left foot to the clutch and pressed it down. While still on break, your hand slid onto the gear shift. You waited. Picking up on the subtle clue, the captain nodded, “Yep, go to first.” His right hand hooked to the handle by the window casually.

You shifted into first. Feeling his eyes on you, you wanted to show him that you remembered his mini lesson and peered at the dash to the RPM, watching it move up before slowly letting go of the clutch. Just like that, the car began rolling.

Meian’s palm smacked the roof of the car as he hollered, lop-sided lips tugging up. You bounced excitedly, eyes switching between the gear shift, the petals, and the RPM.

You switched gears successfully not once, but twice. Each time, Meian showered you in praise. Your heart fluttered and it made you want to do more. When you turned the wheel, he encouraged you to go to the road. Anxiety crept up in you and you felt your palms sweat on the leather. He leaned the seat back, “Nothin’ta worry about. You’re a natural. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice wavered with giddiness and uncertainty. Should he really be trusting your novice driving skills like this? You seriously questioned his judgment calls.

He peered at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the laser focus you had on the road. Hell, you even stopped gnawing your lip like it was the last food to grace the earth. He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, deciding to close his eyes, “Sure as I can be, pup. Gotta question for ya.” You hummed, leaning forward slightly to view the empty road better. He continued, “How’d ya get so good at multitasking?”

You took a moment to answer, making sure to shift appropriately as you picked up speed, “I do a lot of art – pottery and all. Professionally.” You really couldn’t multitask as well as he thought you could, but you wanted to impress him, “It’s kind of like a pottery wheel with petal and speed and hand things. That’s the closest I can get, though. There isn’t a lot of multitasking in the other art things I do, really. Not like this.”

The Jackal’s captain fully looked at you in that moment, a small ‘huh’ leaving his lips. He took in the bit of clay that lodged itself under your bitten nails and the small stripe of white paint on your thighs from propping up a canvas before the edges dried. Meian never dated an artist before, but he wanted to now.

Comfort came after driving a few circles. Eventually you found yourself on a strip of road that extended far out. Meian remained laid back, eyes closed. He never fell asleep and instead listened to you sing along to songs that played on the radio (which was turned on after the third circle seeing as you were deemed ‘good ’nuff’ for the minor distraction).

 You occasionally chit chatted about this and that. You learned that he was an athlete – like your last date. He learned that you’re supporting yourself alone. Your parents didn’t exactly vibe with you being an artist and skipping university all together. You didn’t tell him you had a date with Shoyo, though. Just like he didn’t tell you that he was part of a professional team with Shoyo.

He felt comfortable. You felt comfortable. That’s when three things happened.

1.       You passed a 15 mph speed limit sign.

2.       You saw that you were going 65 mph.

3.       You felt Meian rest a warm palm on your thigh.

Now, in quite literally any other context, that would be a pleasant boyfriend-like thing to do. He was simply acting his part’. Surely, he did the same thing with other clients. However. That combined with the other two made your heart, lungs, and soul try to jump out of your corporeal form and into the next dimension.

First gear. First gear! First gear!

Whipping it into first, the car decided you were the bourgeoisie and it was the working class. It straight revolted, a loud clattering was accompanied by you scrambling around in a panic. Meian sprang up, but his torso was snapped back by the seatbelt’s safety. He unbuckled (like a moron) and kicked your foot out of the way from its spot to press and pull both available breaks.

You sat in silence, hands over your mouth and eyes wide. A choir of ‘oh shit’ sang in your mind, commemorating your funeral with their harmony.

It took some shuffling, but Meian went back to driver’s side. You stood next to the car by the shoulder of the road. A burning smell tickled your nose. Your date came out, hands on his hips and lips pursed to the side. Coming to you, he sighed, “Transmission or clutch went awol. Damn thing won’t start back up. Nothin’s leakin’.”

You sucked your lips in and resisted the urge to scream. Throwing up was one thing. Breaking a rental car was an entirely different one. You bowed, “Meian, I am so so sorry. I should’ve been paying attention and I-I-“

“Woah, woah, girlie, calm yourself. Don’t need’ta do any of this shit,” He bent at the waist, peering at your squinting eyes. His hand rested at the curve of your shoulder into your neck, thumb stroking calmly at the spots you had tapped at before he picked you up. The effort brought near immediate relief, but anxiety made you wonder if he was masking his anger for the sake of his job. When he smiled, you knew it was genuine, “I’m damn near 30. This isn’t even the most expensive car I’ve had this happen to. Don’t worry about a thing, pups. ‘Sides, I shoulda been watching you closer. Blame the teacher, not the student.”

The words were like warm lavender winds brushing away your damp and dead leaves. You offered to pay for the expenses, not daring to mention how it would clear out your savings. Meian waved a hand, “Nah. I got it. I make more than enough to cover this plus some.”

“Then why are you a rental boy-“

“-Help me push it, will ya?” He interrupted, not wanting to admit that it was because of a bet with his troublesome teammate.

You tried to put the car into neutral as per his instructions the best you could, jogging to the back to join him in pushing. You had to admit, the view of his arms working and him pushing a vehicle was a sight to behold. 

All the two of you did was push it to the side of the road, so no cars could hit it. You leaned on the rail protecting traffic from tipping off into the waters below while Meian called the company to explain what happened.

When he hung up, he went to put the phone in his pocket, but the sight of you stopped him. You sat on the rail, facing the ocean at sunset. The cardigan you wore slid just below your shoulders and the cool breeze tousled locks so gracefully. A ghosting feeling went through his fingers as they yearned to be the wind. He snapped a photo in landscape mode.

You turned, brushing hair back around your ear and smiled to him. He snapped another photo and you gestured to him to the spot next to you. He did, leaning his forearms on the cold metal, “Hope ya don’t mind.”

“That you took photos? I mean… I thought it was against the rules. Just ahh…. Hm. Send them to me through the app? Can you do that?”

“Think so, yeah. You looked good. Cold, but good,” The words were said as the photos were sent. You saved them with a bashful thanks.

“Since the date’s almost up, my friend’s coming to get me. Will you be okay?” You glanced down to him, leaning forward as you added pressure to the bar at your toes, keeping you from falling.

“I’ll be just fine. Gotta wait for a tow,” He paused and moved to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to lean into him, “Makin’ me anxious leanin’ like that.” His husky laugh was whisked with ocean breeze. You followed, reveling in the warmth. He liked that you were comfortable enough to accept the gesture. It’s what boyfriends did, right? Even if they weren’t real. Even if reality settled wrong in his stomach.

“The ocean’s so pretty,” You’ve always admired how the waves soaked up the sun’s colors. Oil paintings you’ve made throughout your life a testament to that love.

Meian glanced at you, then the horizon, “Yeah, but I’ve seen better.”

“If I rent you again, take me to ‘better’,” You giggled, missing the look in his eyes and the meaning of his words. Your phone rang, “Oh! That’s my friend, they’re here now - across the street!” Head tilted back, you looked up to him, “Thank you for teaching me how to drive and I really am sorry about the car. I wish I knew how to help.”

“Not a problem, pups. Rate me good. That’s help enough.”

His arms felt empty when you left them.

He checked his phone and saw that once the time struck, the contact was erased automatically. Meian sighed, scrolling through the next few clients he had lined up - his last few dates, he decided. With good tips, he still had a good shot at the win, anyway.

“How’d this one go hot stuff? No throwing up?” There was nonchalant concern in the question. 

You sat back heavily, “No throwing up. I learned how to drive stick shift, though. Then broke the car..”

“You didn’t have to pay for that, right? Those cars are outrageously expensive, ‘specially from those rental places.”

“No, he said he made enough to cover it, weirdly enough.”

“Huh. Well that’s nice of him.,” You friend commented, “Wonder what he does.”

“Me too,” You thought about Shoyo and the up-scale restaurants he took you to, “Me too.” 

“Wait, didn’t he offer you a jacket? That was the whole purpose of the shorts! What a dick!”

Tag List: @flattykawadoorusmilkbread​ 

[zellerysworld]

Puppies and Thorns (1/2)

Erwin x F!Reader

Artwork not by me. Part 2 is below.

Word count: 4.5k

Posted onto my Wattpad @/BlceaWrites

____________________________________________

The light clanking sound of your tan boots hitting the rocky pathway that made up the merchant-filled streets of Krolva district were all too faint. People chattered away as they bargained for furniture, food, and miscellaneous items. While you, the esteemed daughter of Premier Zackary, were out and about the district looking for some art to own and gifts to buy for the cadets. Usually people would shop for artwork and expensive items in the inner districts such as Orvud, but you tended to see the beauty in the items that the less fortunate could give you.

As the people would stare at you, that didn't stop you on your quest to find some nice decorative pieces for your room as it was beginning to feel a bit empty in there. But your quest was cut short with all of your thoughts leaving your mind as you heard the tiny bark of a fuzzy creature come from the side of you. Taking a quick turn on your heels, strains of your hair swung behind you as a squeal was emitted from your soft and sun-kissed lips, "Puppies!"

"Well if it ain't the Premier's daughter herself! How you doin' Y/n? Haven' seen you in Krolva ina while," a grey-haired woman said to you with a wave while putting down the box of fuzzy friends on her merchant stand.

"Mrs. Daveed, it's a pleasure to see you again," you greeted her formally, taking your straw hat off for it to hang over your neck by a loose string, "I've been a bit busy these days, I apologize for not coming to see you sooner."

The woman let out a laugh, "Honey please, no need to be formal. I know all about the lil' plans you got going on in the capitol. Building a royal garden huh?"

You let out a stiff smile while scratching the back of your head, "Heh- yeah I guess word got out, huh? I never knew how hard it would be to architect a garden in the royal city. But if I do a good enough job there, I might go on to open one in each wall. I think it would be a nice scenery, especially a place for the wounded soldiers of the Survey Corps to rest and take in beauty that's not outside of the walls."

Mrs. Daveed sighed, putting her hands against the worn out wood of the stall she owned, "Still a patron of them idiots?"

"Don't forget that this patron is one of yours as well." You lifted a brow to her. She smirked back at you, "Well that's true, ain't it? If you are a so called patron of me, why don't you do some buyin?" She gave a quick wink to you.

Your eyes fell upon the box of puppies, "How about these precious creatures?"

"Ah, those are German Shepherd pups. A very rare breed nowadays. I won't sell 'em unless I know the person because I want them in good hands. Lucky for me, I know your ass all too well."

You let out a small giggle, using a gloved hand to cover your lips from laughing too loudly in the public scene, "I do suppose we know each other somewhat well considering how often I used to visit you and the conversations we would have about all the men you have slep-."

Mrs.Daveed coughed loudly, cutting off your sentence, "Mhm, especially about that brute blonde man you favoured." She let out a wide, sarcastic smile, "So how about 50 pieces each?"

A small pink tint arose over your cheeks, knowing exactly who she is referencing to. You hesitated in your words as thoughts of the man came to your mind, "It-It's a deal."

With these adorable pure-bred puppies now bought and in your care, you thought it best to pop by the base you knew the 104th was stationed at within Wall Rose right away. After walking to the entrance gates of Wall rose, a carriage was waiting for you with a stiff looking man holding the reins of the horses. "I'm back, Layett. Could you take me to the Central Woods training base for the Survey Corps?" The man abruptly turned to hearing your soft voice, being started before nodding to you, "Yes, Lady Zachary."

Once you boarded the carriage, you placed the box of yawning and ever-so-lazy puppies next to you. A soft smile grazed your expression, being at ease with the friendliness of your new found fur babies keeping you company on your ride to see the cadets you treasured more than anything in this world. You were a bit older than them, but not to the point you were as old as their commander, of course. Either way though, you always enjoyed spending time with the 104th recruits because of how they reminded you of your younger days. Back when Keith Shades was your babysitter when he was just a captain and you would be entertained by his squad with how they played with you and taught you how to read and fight.

Soon enough, you'd find the carriage coming to a halt. The man you called Layett had opened the door to greet you, holding a hand out for you to take as assistance in steeping down. Instead, you did an unladylike gesture of handing him the box of puppies, and then stepping out by yourself. You took the box out of his hands to see a surprised expression painted on his face, "Layett, would you be so kind as to fetch me at sundown? I intend to spend the rest of my day here."

He nodded to you, then quickly got back into his seat and took off as he whipped at the horses with his reins. Your heels clicked against the stone, making it easy for you to be heard by nearby soldiers. Some new recruits had a confused expression, while others who had seen you come by before were happy to have your company.

Loud familiar yells could be heard coming from behind you, giving you the ability to prepare for the incoming impact of two certain cadets who always looked forward to your visits. "LADY Y/NNNNN!!!" Connie and Sasha jumped on you from behind, shoving you forward from the sudden weight gain at your back. You threw your shoulders back, forcing them off of you as you let out a loud laugh, "You guys will never be able to take me down even if it's from behind!"

You sat down on a wooden crate, the two cadets standing next to you. "What did you bring us today Y/n? Meat? Potatos? Fruits?" Sasha asked with a watery mouth, making you slightly giggle.

"It looks like some sort of dog!" Conny said as he sat down beside you and looked into the box.

"Actually," you stated, "I was in town today looking for some things when I came across these angels. They are German Shepherds, a very rare breed. I thought you kids would be nice owners of them, that is if you'd like to take one? There's 7 of them."

Conny picked one up, "Sasha, let's take this one and train him how to do cool tricks!" Sasha nodded furiously, "Yes! We can train him to hunt so we can share meat!"

Soon, the rest of the cadets would surround you to see the furry animals. Reiner and Berthodt decided to not partake in owning one, while Mikasa indulged. Putting her hands in the box and lifting out the fattest one of them all, she held it up and over her head like the scene straight out of the movie Lion King. She mumbled to herself, "So... Chubby..." Everyone went silent seeing her hold the puppy, wanting to see what it would do.

After a few seconds, the puppy parted it's small mouth to let out a loud yawn. All of the soldiers went crazy, shouting out how cute it was and how kind it was of you to offer the creatures to them. However, all of their shouting resulted in the attention caught by Captain Levi.

"What the hell is all this noise about? Get back to training, runts." He pushed through the soldiers as they listened to his orders and fell back to their stations. When Levi noticed it was you, his eyebrow lifted, "Oh? I assume you brought gifts for the brats again, Y/n?" You stood from your seat, clicking your tongue, "Honestly Levi, it wouldn't kill you to have fun for once."

He ignored your sentiment, approaching the box and noticing three remaining puppies in it, sleeping on top of each other. "Dogs..., really? Tell me when you find a quiet cat."

"Whatever, your royal bitchiness." You did a fake bow, making Levi scoff.

Eren and Armin watched as you rudely talked to the captain, being amazed at your confidence. Eren balled up his fist and said to Armin, "If she can do it, so can I!" Armin's face went straight to panic, not having the time to stop him from the words that were about to fall from his lips. Eren shouted out, "Hey you Emo fu-"

His words were cut off very quickly, his jaw meeting the bitterness of Nanaba's broom. His head hit the ground, leaving Armin to sigh as Jean fell to his knees from laughter of the enjoyment he got from watching that. Levi, on the other hand, wasn't amused nor batted an eye. Nanaba shrugged, "I'd suggest not to act like a royal idiot in front of the Premier's daughter, especially since she's one of our largest patrons." All that could be heard from Eren's now stiff body was a lifeless groaning sound, followed by a meek, "Yes ma'am."

Nanaba looked your way, her face brightening to see you standing before her. She ran to you, giving you a warm embrace like never before, "Oh Y/n, it's so good to see you again... I haven't see you in a month now and it felt like forever." She released from you, but keeping the eye contact as you asked her a question. "I'm sorry Nan, I've been really busy. I know you and Mike's anniversary is coming up. Will the two of you be joining me at the opening of my garden in the capitol? I can reserve something special for the two of you," You held her hands in yours while talking of this.

"Nothing would make me more happy, Y/n. So what have you brought the kids today?" Nanaba looked over, seeing the pups sound asleep. You gently picked one up, holding it against your chest, "I bought them today and wanted to see if any of the cadets would give them a nice home. I know you and Mike already have plenty of fur babies, but would you want to have another addition to the family?"

You slowly gave the awakening puppy to Nanaba, her eyes going soft at the sight, "I think Mike would love this as an early anniversary gift. Thank you, Y/n." She kissed at your cheek, then dashed off towards the left building where you presumed Mike must be. The encounter left you with a blissful happiness, making your day all the better.

Although you felt happy enough and didn't think the day could get any better, it dawned on you that you were yet to see Erwin. Everyone around you was happy and had something to fill their hands with, while you were waiting to see the person who you'd always anticipate to see the most-

"Commander Erwin!" Moblit called out, making you quickly turn to face what was behind you. Sunlight bounced off your hair and skin, creating natural highlights to your dewy cheeks as your wavy hair swung from your soft eyes. The reflection of the sun caused a sparkle in the pupil of them, making your eyes look as if gold was within them. Erwin's eyes quickly fell upon yours, a knot forming in his stomach while butterflies developed in yours.

He approached you, falling to a knee and taking your hand to gently place a kiss on the back of it. His deep blue eyes looked up at your e/c crystalized eyes, your souls meeting with each other as his voice lowly vibrated off the skin of your hand, "My lady." The vibrations, the touch, the looks, everything about him and what he did was intoxicating. You couldn't tell if he treated you the way he did because he had an interest in you, or if it was because of the fact you were at the top of the patrons for the Survey Corps.

Yet, the way he did these things felt so real and so uncontrollable that a part of you felt like this was him being natural, him being uncontrolled around you because of who you were and the way you could make him feel. Maybe that's just an idea in your head though.

He rose, turning back to the corridor he came from and holding an arm out for you to place yours on top of. Taking the box of the remaining two puppies into your left arm, you then gently placed your right arm onto his. The two of you walked into the corridor of the central building, him smiling the entire time as he made small talk with you to keep you entertained.

Armin watched the way Erwin tried to keep you attached to him and only him, making his mind begin to do it's thing. Before he could begin to form an idea though, Hanji gripped onto his shoulders tightly, "I think he's in deep shit for her. What about you?" Armin swallowed his fear to talk, stuttering with his words, "W-well I don't re-really know. Y/n has been around as long as we have been soldiers, and from what I h-hear she's always been around. Erwin might just be using her."

Hanji squinted her eyes while humming to herself, Mikasa intruding on them with her monotone voice, "Just look at them. He looked like his lungs were about to collapse when he saw her. I think it's fear of her. She must be strong like Captain Levi."

Levi overheard the conversation, therefore allowing himself to contribute to it, "Yeah, It does look like fear. But I don't think he's necessarily scared of her. Maybe scared of what she can do- no- It's more like a relief of fear. Like a parent when they see their child after accidentally losing them in a market street." Hanji noted, "That is believable, considering we haven't seen her in a month when she used to visit us almost three times a week."

While they all gossiped of the mysterious relationship between you and the commander, you and him were entering into his quarters. He reached in front of you, grabbing the knob and motioning for you to be welcomed in. Taking the gesture, you walked into the rather bland room before placing the box down by his window.

"You certainly look tired, Lady Zachary." Erwin finished his sentence with a hint of sarcasm, placing two cups down on the small dining table that rested by the wall. You walked towards the table, snickering at his comment to you, "Oh? Is my 100 coin eye cream not working like I hoped for?"

"I suppose not. You could always use my method of getting rid of bags; sleep."

"Yes of course, like you of all people would know what sleep is.."

"If you think I can be bad about it, you should ask Levi what his schedule is."

You let out a small giggle at the sarcasm that was shared between the two of you. As you took a seat, Erwin poured some coffee in the cups he placed down. Before you had the chance to ask for sugar, he was already putting one spoon in, just as you preferred it. The attention to detail on such a simple thing such as your coffee made you smile.

Erwin took a seat, smirking as he lifted the cup to his mouth, "Your servants could never."

"Oh for fucks sake," you threw your head back at his comment, "How many times do I have to tell you that we only have a chauffeur and that's for our safety."

"I know, I just enjoy teasing you. I understand how you don't appreciate how people overlook you for the wealth that your father has."

You gently set the cup down, but keeping your hands around it to take in the comforting warmth it emitted, "Well, you know how the royals and the rich are. Always wanting things to how they prefer." A brow lifted from your expression, showing Erwin you were annoyed, yet you haven't had the time to express why you were.

"Oh? In what way are they wanting things?"

Smacking your lips with a loud sigh, "They think they know art, when in fact these insolent pigs have no real taste. I'm constantly having to make rearrangements to the point I feel like this isn't even my project anymore. They want roses here, lilacs there, this type of fence, this type of gate, this type of wood for the benches... It's tiring."

Erwin took another sip from his preferably black coffee, "Well, I can say for a fact that if you happen to say no to any of their requests, they wouldn't take it too personally."

"Oh? How do you know this?"

“Well your Fathers artwork dungeon could use some p-“

His words were cut off by you having widened eyes and spitting out your coffee followed by a small snorting sound with some laughter. Erwin let out a small laugh under his breath, handing you a napkin. You set down the nearly finished cup while cleaning off your lips, "I refuse to call that artwork."

"Either way, I'm sure they know it exists seeing as your father hates those nobles so much. Therefore they wouldn't oppose to your choices."

The puppies yawned, causing your attention to drift towards them. You moved off the ridged wooden chair to sit on your knees next to the box and poke your finger at their chubby stomachs, "Erwin, as smart as your idea is, I would prefer for them to just see me as me."

"Well, Y/n," He started as he sat across from you to look at the sight of the young dogs, "sometimes when you play chess, you must sacrifice a pawn to take the king."

Your eyes looked to his, locking gazes with him before giving him a weak smile, "Of course you would say that. I'd rather not give up my pride to win their silence. You have a very military like mind, Erwin Smith."

"And you have a very humane mind, Y/n Zachary."

The words left his lips, making you realize something you never really thought about before. Perhaps the reason Erwin enjoyed your company so much was because you were one of the few people he is befriended with that wasn't in the military. Thinking about it, you preferred the company of soldiers such as Erwin because it was refreshing to get away from the company of political figures long with the rich and royal. You were worried about more simple and everyday things, while he had the fate of humanity on his shoulders.

Here you were, worried about finding someone to take the second to last puppy, while Erwin has probably been stressing about the amount of people he will be sending to their deaths in this next expedition. It was like you were a distraction for him to see the simple things in life, and he was a distraction for you to see the more important things in life.

Your train of thought was cut off in an instant as he rose a question to you, "Say, Y/n, what exactly are you doing with these German Shepherds?"

"Well I bought them off of a friend in Krolva district. There was originally 7, but as you can see there is only two left because I brought them here as a gifts to the cadets who would take them in and give them a better home."

Erwin looked at the fluffy one, picking him up as gently as possible and feeling his fur, "I'd like to take this one off your hands, if you don't mind. It's soft, just like your heart."

"Th-Wha...Erwin you cheesy bastard."

A curve to his lips formed at your comment. He knew he was cheesy, considering he never entered a real relationship before so therefore he didn't have any experience. You pat at his soft fur, "But you would be wrong to think my heart is soft."

"I don't doubt the rose that is your heart contains some thorns on it."

"Why would you even care for a rose with as many thorns that I have?" You leaned towards him.

He set down the puppy, inching his head towards yours, "Maybe it's the fact I'm a devil, with the mind of being drawn towards beautiful things no matter the danger."

Your curious and daring expression dropped into sadness. You crawled over to his side, cupping his jawline into the palms of your soft hands, "Never call yourself a devil."

Although you weren't oblivious to the fact that people would call Erwin a devil for how he wouldn't hesitate to throw away peoples lives, it's still not how you viewed it. You saw what he was doing as a job only special people could do, a job that only people equipped with the ability to carry the burdens he carries can do. He wasn't some devil to you, he was someone special. While to Erwin, you weren't some rose with thorns, you are just a scared yet brave woman in a terrifying world.

Your eyes stayed locked with his, Erwin looking surprised at how hard you felt for him and the way he views himself. He moved his lips closer to yours, wanting to connect not just lips but souls as well. "Y/n...," He mumbled under his breath while his forehead collided with yours. Instead of his mouth, you pushed your lips to leave a small kiss at his cheek. The last thing you wanted to do was cause Erwin more pain by kissing him when you and him knew that any sort of love wouldn't work out. It was better to keep these things suppressed.

He grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, "When I reach the basement and prove my father right, I promise I will come back to you so that these puppies can be raised by the both of us, so that I can enjoy the garden you are building but with your hand in mine."

His words broke your heart into a million pieces, your heart growing weary of not having him. It was already draining enough to have to stay away from the corps for a month to work on your gardens, but now it was taking a major toll on you. More than ever you were invested into the Survey Corps, just for the sake of Erwin completing his goal while you completed yours so that afterwards the two of you could be happy together.

Tears began to fall from your tired eyes. You couldn't tell if it was of happiness or sadness. Maybe it was tears of hope.

Levi, Hanji, Mike, and Nanaba sat together outside in-between the buildings. "Do you think Erwin is going to retire and marry Y/n after this is all over?" Nanaba asked curiously.

Hanji shrugged her shoulders while kicking her feet with an evil smile across her face, "Whatever happens, I will never stop indulging into the science of Titans~..."

"Well," Mike began while rubbing his nose against his new best friend that you gifted to Nanaba, "I know that me and Nanaba will be running a sanctuary for dogs."

"It's called a Veterinary Clinic, Mike. And I think you have to go to a certain school for that." Nanaba said while leaning against her partners arm.

Levi sighed. "Since when did you guys have school?"

The other three turned their heads to him, looking dumbfounded.

You appeared from the darkness of the corridors into the fading of the sunlight. Nanaba ran up to you and gave you one last hug, "When will you visit us again, Y/n?"

"If all goes accordingly, I'll be here next weekend." You lowered your voice to whisper in her ear, "If you can request that Sunday off, me and you could go to the shopping districts in Orvud. We can leave Mike to deal with the 'children'." Nanaba turned around, seeing her partner being licked to death by their new family member, "Let's do it."

Taking steps forward to the gate, you bid Levi farewell with the casual middle finger, while you waved to Hanji and Mike. In response, Levi gave a fake smile as he flipped you off as well, while the others waved back. Before stepping into the carriage that just arrived for you, you turned your neck to see Erwin watching you leave through his window with a small smile and a puppy in his left hand.

You stepped in, closing the door as you sat down. To keep the new fur baby warm, you kept your arms wrapped around her while she slept on the carriage ride back to Wall Sina. All that you could think about the entire ride to Wall Sina was the promise Erwin has made to you and the secret that you both keep from everyone including yourselves to one day be released.

[alch3mic]

Bruh- There’s was a puppy boutique (idk where they went but I’m like high-key sad. They had Saint Bernards. Saint Bernards dude. I love Saint Bernards) in my mall and I would 100% take the lads there. Will straight up text them too going “THERE’S SAINT BERNARD PUPPIES HDAKSJAKSKW” with pictures. Idc. Take me to go see puppies. Please.

“WHY IS IT YOU HAVE ZERO SELF CONTROL WHEN IT COMES TO DOGS?”

A rather fair question, considering Sans hadn’t said anything to either you or Papyrus before he completely wandered off on his own, leaving the both of you wondering where your normally lazy skeleton had vanished to..

..Before your eyes landed on the ‘Pet Store’ sign off in the distance.

“guess it’s cause i’m absolutely mutts about them-”

“NOPE. THERE WILL BE NONE OF THAT TODAY!”

You giggled at the brothers’ antics, earning a wink from Sans before he glanced back to the storefront window. He began lightly tapping his finger on the glass towards some puppies who were all tumbling over each other to nip at them.

“They are really cute....” you said, admiring the little pups in their playpen. 

Still young, with big floppy ears that were a little too big for their heads and big puppy eyes to stare up at you with. A part of your heart melted as they all yipped and tumbled around together, even humoring stopping inside to give them all a good pet.

“IT HONESTLY SURPRISES ME OUR HOME IS NOT OVERRAN WITH DOGS WITH HOW MUCH YOU LIKE THEM,” Papyrus commented, earning a shrug from his brother.

“is that you giving me permission to get a bunch of dogs?” he hummed. 

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” the skeleton exclaimed, placing his hands on his hips. “WE ALREADY HAVE ONE FURRY MENACE WHO HAS MORE TOYS THAN WE KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH BECAUSE WE SPOIL THEM ROTTEN. WE DO NOT NEED SEVERAL MORE!”

Another laughed slipped out at the thought of Chance. He was Sans and Papyrus’ cute little white dog with a nose for snacks and mischief, especially when it came to making trouble for the taller skeleton. He liked to snatch up puzzle pieces and bones before taking off running with them like it was all some kind of game, leaving Papyrus constantly shouting and chasing after them.

“He isn’t so bad!” you laughed, lightly patting Papyrus’ arm as he let out a small huff. “He actually kinda reminds me of another little white puppy I use to see around my neighborhood. They use to get into all kinds of trouble... I wonder what happened to them?”

“WITH ANY LUCK, IF THEY’RE ANYWHERE NEAR A FRACTION OF THE NUISANCE THAT CHANCE IS, SOMEONE HAS TAKEN THEM IN AND GOT THEM OFF THE STREETS!” 

“I really hope so! They were a good dog,” you replied, taking one last glance back to the pet store. “Hopefully he found a good family.”

“..i’m sure they’re doin’ just fine,” Sans said, glancing back over to you with a smile before taking your hand. “wanna help me pick out a new toy for chance?”

“Sure!”

“DIDN’T I JUST MENTION HOW WE ALREADY SPOIL THAT DOG ROTTEN?”

“yup. “

“GOOD, JUST AS LONG AS WE’RE ALL AWARE,” he said. “NOW THEN, I SEE SOME CHEW TOYS THAT WERE ON PUPPYLIFE.COM’S BEST OF LIST THAT I THINK WILL BE GREAT FOR HIM!”

[sorenmarie87]

I’ll see you on your birthday.

Summary: A late night snack run turns into something more.   

Pairing:  Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader.  Benny/Dean 

Square Filled: Pups (A/B/O) + Late Night Snack (Genre) 

Word Count: 1,076

Rating: Teen And Up

Warnings:  A few curse words.  Promises of things to come.  Pregnant Reader.  

A/N:  Written for @spngenrebingo​​ and @spnabobingo​​  Beta’d by the lovely @littlehotmess26​​.  I don’t own the photos used in this aesthetic.  This is my very first A/B/O fic that I’m basing on a video I found on Facebook. 

--

You brought the plastic spoon to your lips, and practically moaned as the chocolate melted on your tongue.  “This is so fucking good.”  

Sam chuckled as he pulled up to the stop light and put on his right turn signal.  “Should I give you two a minute alone?”

“Nah.”  You removed the spoon from your mouth, dipped it back into the pint of ice cream and held it out to him.  “Want a taste?”  

“You’ll have to feed me ‘mega.”  You position yourself so that you’re leaning over the center console and Sam turns his head slightly, but keeps his eyes on the road.  You bring the spoon closer to his lips and watch as he takes the ice cream into his mouth.  You stare at him as you slowly remove the spoon, and peck the corner of his lips before moving back into your seat.  “It’s sweet, but I think you’re sweeter.” 

“Alpha.”  You felt your cheeks heat up and you took another bite of your ice cream.

“I’m glad you talked me into getting out of the house, even if it was just for a late night drive.”

“It wasn’t a complete waste.  We also got some stuff we needed for the house.”  

"You also picked up enough snacks to last us until the apocalypse.”  You shrugged as you offered Sam the final bite of your ice cream and he shook his head.  You saw Sam’s gaze fall onto your mouth and you grinned as you threw the spoon and your empty ice cream carton into the plastic bag in front of you.  

“Eyes on the road, alpha.  We can make out when we get home.”  

“I’ll hold you to that.”  Your smile faltered when you noticed red and blue lights flashing from the rearview mirror.  “Sam?”

“Don’t worry omega.”  Sam moved his right hand off of the steering wheel and gently squeezed your knee.  “We’ll be fine.”  

Sam pulled off to the side of the road and put the car into park.  You quietly whined and held onto Sam’s hand as you glanced out of the back window.  The tapping on Sam’s window made you jump as Sam chuckled to himself. His hand slipped out of yours as he rolled the window down and placed them onto the steering wheel.  

“Is there something wrong Officer?”  

“Nothin’ too serious.  You were obeying the speed limit, and you and the missus are wearing your seatbelts.  But we do have a problem though.”  Sam looks over at you in confusion as the officer in question removed his sunglasses.  

“If we didn’t do anything wrong then why…”  Sam trailed off as he looked up at Benny’s smiling face.  

“How you doin’ tonight Sam?”  A smile replaced the look of confusion on Sam’s face.

“Exhausted.”

“Yeah, you look like you could sleep for a year.”  You snorted out a laugh and Sam gave you a look over his shoulder.  

“Ms. Y/N, what about you?”

“Nothin’ new to report, Mr. Benny.  We missed you at family night though.  How’s Lizzie doing?”  

“She’s gonna be stayin’ with us soon.  She wanted us to tell you that she can’t wait to see you.”  

“I’ll have to text her later then.”  You pulled out your phone and looked at the time.  “Okay, maybe I’ll text her tomorrow.  I didn’t realize it was that late.”

“Yeah about that…”  Benny started to say but was interrupted by Dean getting out of the cruiser.  

“Are these two giving you a hard time Officer Lafitte?”  You shake your head as Dean comes around to the passenger side of the car and leans on it.  

“I think I can handle ‘em.”  Benny grins and winks at his husband over the car’s roof.   "Now, I don't make it a habit of pulling over my brother-in-law but don't you wanna know why I pulled you over?"

“Of course I do.”

“Well it’s simple really.  You’re driving a car with a child that’s not in a proper car seat.”

"We don’t, we’re not…."  You can hear the confusion in Sam’s voice as you pull the positive pregnancy test out of your purse by your feet.  He looks behind him, and sees nothing there.  Sam is still in disbelief until Benny points your way and he finally notices that you have a pregnancy test in your hands.  He takes it from you, staring at the little screen that has the word pregnant in all capital letters.  

"We're pregnant?"  He asks and you nod with a huge grin on your face.

"That's amazing news brother.  Just so you know, Benny’s a fantastic name.”  He winks at the two of you and from the other side of the car you hear a faint ‘Hey’ coming from Dean.  "Dean's a fantastic name too."  You pat Dean's hand as if to say 'we'll consider it' and his face lights back up.  Dean rushes back over to their car, and pulls a multi-colored gift bag from the passenger seat.  He hands it to you when he reaches your car, and you hand it off to Sam.  

“Open it.��  

Sam digs through the tissue paper and pulls out a white stuffed bear wearing a t-shirt that says "I'll see you on your birthday."  

"They're due on my birthday?"

"Yep."

“That’s fantastic news Sammy.”  Dean’s smile was contagious as he squeezed your shoulder and you looked up to him with a grin on your face.

“These two are gonna spoil those pups so much.”  Benny chuckled as you turned your attention back to Sam who hadn’t said a thing yet.  

“This explains so much.”  He muttered to himself.   “Your scent has been different for a few weeks now, and I couldn’t figure out why.  So, we’re gonna have pups?”  You nodded and Sam leaned over to kiss you gently.  “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, alpha.”  You bit your lower lip as Benny and Dean said their goodbyes.  You waited until their car was out of sight before you said another word.  “Would you want to celebrate when we get home, or should we just go to bed?”

“I don’t care what time it is right now, I just know that we are going to do so much more than make out when we get back home.”

“Well then, we better get home before the cops are called for real.”  You smirked as the engine turned over and Sam put the car into drive.

--

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer @justballoonfishthings @littlehotmess26 @galaxy-and-star-collector @flamencodiva@mirajanefairytailmage @kazosa @wings-of-a-raven @docharleythegeekqueen @clockworkmorningglory @lefthologramdeer​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @holyfuckloueh @buckyscrystalqueen​ @ilovetaquitosmmmm @n3rdybird​ @super-fan-of-all-things​ @disneymarina​ @sandlee44​ @babykalika2001​

Sam Winchester - @idreamofplaid​ @myinconnelly1

[buriednurbckyrd]

Oh, Baby! (3)

**I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you for reading!! ♥♥♥

pain was intense and exhausting, her body trembling with the effort of bringing a new life into the world.  Bucky pushed her sweaty hair back from her face and kissed her temple.  

“You can do this, Y/N,” he linked his vibranium fingers with hers and she swore for a split second she could hear the metal plates grind together from her grip.  “Squeeze as hard as you need, 'Mega, you can't hurt me.”

“Fuck you.” She gasped out.  “I can't, Bucky I can't!”  It felt like she was going to rip in half.  That wasn't possible, right?  

“You're the strongest person I know,” he whispered in her ear.  “This little girl is gonna be the luckiest pup in the world with such an amazing mother.”  The tears that streamed down her face were as much from the pain of child birth as they were from emotion.  All she wanted was her daughter here safely and in her arms but she was beginning to doubt that she could make it through the labor.  “You're okay, Y/N…Everything is okay.”  He reassured her as if reading her thoughts.  She turned her head and looked into his impossibly blue eyes.  They were also shining with tears but so full of faith and trust in his Omega that for a moment she forgot about the pain.  

“She's crowning!”  The midwife chirped out.  “Can you give me one big push, Y/N?”  Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  

“Come on, Doll.  She's almost here.” Y/N grit her teeth together and pushed with everything she had.  The pressure was overwhelming.  She channeled all her focus to the task at hand, even Bucky's words of encouragement and love faded into the background of her mind.  Some deep, primal instincts seemed to take over and her body took over. It could have been three seconds or three hours that passed and she wouldn't have known.  It wasn't until a strong, shrill cry sounded that she broke from her reverie.  

“Good work, Mamma!  She looks perfect!”  The nurses bustled around, getting the squalling baby cleaned up.  Bucky stepped away from her long enough to cut the umbilical cord.  Before she knew what was happening they were settling her baby into her arms.  Her little pink face screwed up in something that resembled confusion.  She was too in awe to cry, just staring down at the tiny bundle.  

“Bucky,” she breathed.  “We did it.”  She traced her fingertip over her cheeks and pursed lips.  Marveled at her perfect eyelashes that matched the crown of dark hair on her head, so much like her father's.  Bucky huffed out a weak laugh and wiped at his joyous tears.  

“I think you did most of the work as usual.”  He said softly, cupping his hand over his daughter's head.  Her fine hair felt like silk.  “She's as beautiful as her mother...”

…

Y/N jolted and nearly dropped her phone.  She blinked and her focus returned to the dark haired little girl on the screen.

“And Uncle Tony said he's gonna take me and Morgan out for cheeseburgers! And Aunt Pepper said we can pick three movies to watch!  And Daddy got me new jammies just for the sleepover!”  Y/N  laughed at her daughter's enthusiasm.  

“You and Morgan will be good for Tony and Pepper, right?”  Lily nodded vigorously.  

“The goodest!”  She promised.  “You're gonna be here tomorrow for the party, right Mamma?”  Y/N smiled.  

“Of course, baby.  I wouldn't miss it for anything.”  She hadn't been home in almost four weeks.  Her and Wanda had spent nearly a month helping rescue workers from a mine collapse.  It wasn't supposed to have taken this long but even with Y/N's earth based powers and Wanda's telekinetic prowess it had been a difficult and delicate operation.  “My Lily-bug only turns five once.”  She heard an exaggerated throat clearing sound.  Lily rolled her eyes.  

“Daddy wants to talk to you I guess.”  

“I guess I want to talk to him too,” she rolled her eyes and winked at her daughter.  “Have fun with Morgan, sweet pea.  I'll be home in time for your birthday party, I promise.”

“Okay, Mamma.  Love you!”

“Love you too!”  She called, but Lily had already handed off the phone and scuttled off for her sleepover.  

“There's my girl.”  Bucky greeted with a tired smile.  

“Long day, Daddy?”  

“I miss when she used to take naps.  Now she's up at seven and goes until the batteries run out.  You just know Tony's gonna load em up with sugar so who knows when those kids are gonna knock off tonight.” He chuckled.  

“It wouldn't be a best friend birthday sleepover without lots and lots of sugar.”  She replied.  “They'll probably crash earlier than you'd think.  

“God I miss you.”  Bucky blurted out.  

“I miss you too, so much.”  She rubbed her hand over her face.  “Being away from Lily and you for this long is torture.  But that mine was a disaster.”  She tried not to think about the things she had seen over the duration of the mission.  “There's going to be serious inquiries into this whole mess.  I wouldn't be surprised if me and Wanda are called back to give testimony.”  

“I'm sorry, I know it's been rough out there.  To say the least.”

“It's been...difficult.”  She confirmed.  “I'm glad Wanda got sent on this one with me.  We work well together and it's been good to have a friend to lean on.”  She tried to stifle a yawn but failed.

“Aw, you're exhausted Doll.”  

“I'm fine.”

“No, Y/N, you get some sleep.  You have a long flight to catch in a few hours and you never sleep well on planes.”  She laughed.

“Okay Alpha.  I want to grab a shower too so I won't argue.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.”  He said with a smile.  “I love you, Omega.”

“I love you, too.  See you tomorrow.”  She pressed end and set her phone down next to her and scrubbed her hands over her face.  She couldn't wait to be home again.

…

Lily tugged on Bucky's arm, literally jumping in place with excitement as they waited for Y/N to appear.  FRIDAY had announced their arrival to the compound which had sent the child into a flurry of limbs and chatter.  

“Mamma's gonna love my party dress, right Daddy?  And I can wear my crown when it starts?  And-”  Bucky laughed and swung her into his arms.  Lily squealed and giggled.  

“You're the prettiest princess in the land, Bug.”  He rubbed his nose against hers.  “Mamma's gonna squish your guts out when she gets here.”  More giggles erupted out of the little girl.  

“Not my guts!”  She cried.  

“Yup, she's gonna squeeze em right out of ya.” The door opened and the woman in question walked in with a tired smile.  

“Apparently I have some squishing to do?”  

“MAMMA!” Lily wiggled out of Bucky's arms and ran to Y/N who caught her and swung her into a hug, blowing a raspberry against Lily's neck. “You're here!” the little girl cried.

“I made a promise!”  She said and planted kisses all over Lily's face. “I missed you Lily-bug.”  

“Missed you too.”  She smoothed down the front of her dress.  “Like my party dress?”  Y/N touched her forehead to hers.

“I love it.  Very poofy.”  

“I can twirl like a princess!”  

“I bet!”  She set her daughter down and looked up at Bucky.  “Why don't we go to your party?  Have some fun?”  

“Yes!” Lily raced out of the room and down the hallway before either of her parents could say anything else.  

“Hey.” Bucky pulled her into a hug and nuzzled the crook of her neck.  Y/N buried her face in his broad chest and breathed in his scent.  “You doin' okay, Omega?”  He asked quietly.

“So much better now that I'm here.”  Came her reply.  She tipped her head back and looked up at him.  He could tell she was tired from traveling but her expression was clear and happy.  “I'm ready for some party food and cake.”  Bucky chuckled and kissed her lightly, just enjoying their reunion for a moment.  

“Cupcakes,” he corrected.  “And a very excited little birdie told me that there's a special one for her Mamma.”

“Oh my, then we better get going.  I wouldn't want my rumored special cupcake to get stale.”  

…

Several hours later Y/N was sitting on her bathroom floor will Lily took a bath.  She couldn't wait to crawl into bed with Bucky and truly begin to unwind from the mission, but after a month away from her daughter she didn't want to miss another bath night.  

“Did you rinse your hair out, Bug?”  The girl yawned and nodded.  

“Can I wear my Moana jammies?”  Y/N held up the well loved night gown.  

“Already grabbed them.”  She replied, and lifted Lily out of the tub to wrap her up in a fluffy towel.  “There's my favorite little Bug.”  She said and rubbed the terrycloth over her face, smiling when she heard Lily's giggles.  “I wasn't sure she was still under all that frosting!” Lily had asked for two of the cupcakes to have elaborate roses piped on top of them, just like the ones that grew in her mother's gardens.  

“Thank you for being at my party Mamma.”  Y/N's hands stilled and she blinked back the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes.  

“I told you I'd be here, baby.  I wanted to come home every day I was gone, but I wouldn't have missed your birthday for the world.”  She helped Lily pull her night gown on and picked up a comb to work the tangles out of her hair.  

“I know Mamma,” Lily said matter-of-factually.  “Sometimes you and Daddy have to go help people.”  Y/N laughed softly and began to gently brain her dark hair.

“Well I'm glad you're okay with that.”  She secured the end of the plait with a hair tie.  “I know you had a really big day, but do you think you could handle one more present?”  Lily turned and her eyes widened.  

“One more?”  Y/N tapped the end of her nose.  

“I picked it up before I came home.  You go get your Daddy and meet me in the living room.”  Lily ran to find Bucky, her feet slapping against the bathroom tile as she fled the room.  Y/N stood up and took a deep breath.  She looked in the mirror and nodded at her reflection before going into Bucky and her bedroom, picking up a neatly wrapped box.  She smoothed her hand over the pale pink wrapping paper and with one more moment to steady herself, she went to meet her mate and their daughter.  

Bucky looked up at her from the couch with slight confusion.  Lily bounced on the cushion beside him.  

“Did I leave something behind this morning?”  He asked her.  

“No, this one is just special.  Just for us.”  She assured him.  She sat beside her Alpha and handed Lily the box.  She hesitated before tearing the paper.  

“Can I?”  Y/N slid her hand into Bucky's and nodded.  

“Go ahead, sweet pea.”  The paper ripped and landed on the floor.  Lily carefully lifted the lid off the box and her face crinkled.  

“This is for babies, Mamma.”  She said.  Y/N rested her head on Bucky's shoulder.

“There's more in there.”  Bucky felt his heart begin to race when Lily absently set a tiny onesie aside and pull out a tee shirt.  He squeezed Y/N's hand.  

“What's it say?”  Lily asked and held it up.  

“Big Sister?”  Bucky whispered.  “Y/N?”  The Omega set their joined hands over her stomach and nodded.  

“I'm pregnant.”  She said.  

“I'm gonna be a big sister?”  Lily cried.  “Really?”  She hugged the shirt and onesie to her chest.

“You're gonna be a big sister,” Y/N confirmed.  “In about seven months.” Bucky cradled his hands around his Omega's belly.  

“I didn't think it was gonna happen for us again.”  He said, struggling to find his voice.  They had talked about having another pup around the time Lily turned two, but despite their trying test after test came back negative.  

“I didn't either, but maybe we just needed to relax?”  Lily launched herself at the two of them, yawning despite her excitement.  “Let's get this munchkin into bed before she passes out on the couch,” Y/N laughed.  “I'll be right back.”  She told Bucky, lifting their daughter to tuck her in

Twenty minutes and one bed time story later she returned to the living room to find Bucky rubbing the fabric of the onesie between his fingers. She sat down next to him and curled into his side.

“When did you find out?”  He asked after a few minutes.  

“About a week ago.  I got a little dizzy underground and the medical people insisted I get checked out, just in case it was from gas or something.  Turns out I was just a bit anemic because of the little jellybean that's taken up residence.”  When he didn't respond she cupped his cheek and turned his face to her.  “You're not mad, are you?”  

“Oh, Doll of course not!”  He gathered her hands in his and kissed her fingers.  “I'm over the moon!”

“Really?” She eyes dropped and she bit her lip.  

“Hey, look at me.”  He waited until her eyes met his again.  “I can't wait to be a Dad again,” he assured her.  “I guess I just thought maybe it wasn't going to happen for us; it was just gonna be you, me, and Lily.  I was okay with that, happy with that.  And I'm happy that we're gonna have another pup too.”  

“Thank god,” she sighed.  “I've been freaking out since the doctor told me what was up.”  Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“You seemed calm as ever when we talked.”  

“I was losing my mind.”  She said with a laugh.  

“I love you so fucking much, Omega.”  Was all he could say.  

“Isn't that convenient?  I love you so fucking much right back, Alpha.”

End.

[vanchlo]

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes / Green Eyes 4

Read all 3 previous parts here! 

Blurb Synopsis: With final exams approaching, you find yourself coming to rely on Harry more, whether for help with teaching, emotional support, help packing your apartment, or to complain about your students wanting to set the two of you up together. The saying goes that ‘stress makes you stronger,’ and that will be the true test during this season in your lives, and relationship. 

Genre: Teacher Harry, soooooo much fluff, some angst, a little sad, and lots of romance.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10k words, whoops

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Changes by David Bowie & Butterfly Boucher (click to listen; yes the Shrek version, YES FROM THIS VERY PART) 

I also wanted to thank my pals @sunflwrnarry​ and @bfharry​ who’ve helped me with this story with their support, ideas, and love for it. I love freaking out with you two over this story  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 

*

As you bring your fist to the blue door, you suddenly pause. Thoughts dance inside of your head and tie themselves to your heart. Happiness comes over you in another wave as Harry’s voice interrupts the thoughts, his voice telling you that he loves you from earlier. A content sigh meets the air in front of you in a white cloud. You had forgotten how cold you were, but the playful barking coming from the other side of the door brings you back to reality. 

“C’min!” Harry replies once you knock. 

Slowly opening the door, the warmth of Harry’s house greets you, along with the musky cinnamon smell that accompanies it. What surprises you is the little bundle of golden fur barking at you, but with the cutest bark, you’ve ever heard. 

“Ya, you get ‘er, Gatsby! Go get mummy, go say hullo t’ her!” Harry giggles, and soon you are too as you fall to a crouch as he approaches you. With that tail dancing in the air, you only laugh harder as he slips and falls in front of you. “My goodness, yer a clutz li’l boy. ‘Bout third time ya’ve fallen down and we’ve only been home fer a few minutes, jus’ beat mummy by a tick.”

“Hi, bud. How was your ride home with daddy? What do you think of your new home?” you coo to the puppy, rubbing the top of his furry head. He continues to yip at you for a few seconds until his sniffer takes over. 

“I see how good o’ guard dog, you are, pup. Ya smell any food on ‘em and they’re yer friend,” Harry sighs with a titter, carding a hand through his hair when you glance over to him. 

“No, you’re a good guard dog, Gatsby. You just have to get used to mummy and daddy, don’t you?” you croon, rubbing both hands along his chubby face as he sniffs the air. “Come on, let’s go sit by daddy,” you suggest, unable to hide your laugh as you observe him struggling to walk on the hardwood floor. 

“Looks like I might need t’ get su’more rugs or else he’s gonna be fallin’ e’rywhere.”

“Yeah, it’ll be easier to clean up his accidents on the wood flooring, though,” you note aloud, sliding off your slushy winter boots onto the mat by the door. After hanging up your coat on one of the hooks, you turn right into Harry’s living room to take a seat by him on the long red rug. “Did you take him potty yet?”

“Ya, I did befo’ we went in tha school and afta, and a few minutes ‘go. He went befo’ we went in but not since. ‘m not too worried tho’, I knew when I got him that he’d be peein’ on e’rythin’,” Harry notes, his eyes stuck to the waddling furball. Quickly, they dart to you and his strong arms come around your middle, pulling you into him. “C’mere, love, and have a cuddle wit’ me.”

Gatsby turns and begins to bark at the both of you as Harry pulls you over to sit in his lap, the both of you laughing loudly. He tottles over and proceeds to sniff the both of you. 

“How does she smell, Gats’? Does mummy pass yer sniffer check?” he mumbles, against your cheek where his words tickle your skin. You contribute to the conversation with a laugh at the both of them, sinking into Harry’s arms. Contentment washes over you when your back meets his chest and you feel him press a kiss to your temple. 

“Come here, Gatsby!” you say, patting your lap excitedly. 

“Nah, he’s too busy sniffin’. I swear ‘s all he did when he was in me car, even tho’ I was holdin’ him tha whole time.”

“It sounds like you should’ve named him Scooby-Doo instead,” you remark, earning a soft laugh from Harry. You squirm when you feel his breath tickle your neck. Sighing, you relax against him, his arms resting on your soft tummy and sometimes rubbing his knuckles against it. 

“Perhaps,” he comments, the feeling of his smooth cheek against yours an absence now, his stubble already prickling your skin. “Fit right into me arms, tha both o’ you,” he continues, swaying the both of you back and forth in his arms now clad in a long-sleeved Rolling Stones crewneck. 

You hope he can see the smile adorning your face and being all the reply he needs. You’re uncertain the last time you felt this content and happy all rolled into one, but it’s hard to pinpoint because Harry always seems to have that effect on you. 

“Hope ‘s okay I named him, jus’ thought it was perfect when I saw him tha otha day,” he whispers against your temple, the cinnamon from his gum tiptoeing over your face. 

“Yeah of course, it is. I couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. I don’t know how you kept him a secret for a whole week, I would’ve squealed,” you say with a grin, backing up when the puppy gets brave and stands up, his front paws on Harry’s knee. You titter at the feeling of his feathery whiskers on your skin, the sound of his adamant sniffing, and the cold wetness of his nose on your chin. 

“Yeah, I dunno how I didn’t. There were so many times I almost told ya, but I jus’ wanted t’ surprise ya, bird.”

“I’m glad you did. Okay, Gatsby, you go and smell daddy now,” you relent, your hands coming around the chunky puppy. His tummy is warm against your palms and his whine fills your ears as you lift him up to set in your lap. 

“I dunno, I think he likes how ya smell betta. What, did ya eat sumthin’ on tha way here, a Twix or Bit-O-Honey, or sumthin’?” Harry murmurs, his smile felt on your temple. “We’re gonna hafta watch it, he’ll wanna get into e’rythin’.”

“Yeah, he must smell that Twix I found in my car,” you reply, squealing when you feel the puppy’s warm wet tongue on your cheek. 

“Sumbody already loves their mummy, I see,” Harry comments. “Ya, Gats’, le’ss give mummy all tha kisses!” he exclaims before pressing loud smooches all over your face too. 

“Oh no, attacked by kisses, whatever will I do?!” you shout, feeling the energetic puppy in your lap as you close your eyes, chuckling. You wouldn’t change this for the world, no siree. 

*

“Thanks for dinner, it was delicious,” you tell Harry as you set your dishes in the dishwasher. 

“Welcome, love. Would ya like some wine? I should finish off dis bottle already, ‘s gettin’ all flat,” Harry asks, the soft click of the fridge door opening following his words. 

“I don’t know, it’s getting kind of late and I have to drive home . . ,” you answer, conflict showing through in your words.

Your eyes follow Harry’s tall figure as he reaches an arm to a shelf in the cabinet, grabbing two long-stemmed wine glasses. A smile tickles at your lips when his shirt rides up a tad, and his fern tattoos adorning his hips say hi to you, as well as his happy trail you love so much. It amazes you the amount of restraint it takes to not reach over and touch his tummy. Ugh. 

“You could have as much wine as ya’d like and ya wouldn’t hafta drive home if ya stay tha night. Gatsby had wanted me t’ ask ya, anyways. I told him we could make it work - we’ll all pile togetha in me bed, and ya can borrow sum jammies o’ mine,” he hums, turning to face you as he sets down the two empty glasses. The bubbles rising within your chest only worsen when you see the smug look pulling his lips into a smile. “I mean, that’s if ya want t’ sleep ova.” 

The gurgling of the white wine filling a glass occupies the silence between the two of you. Words fleet you as you watch him fill one glass three-quarters of the way full, and when his eyes lift to you they brim with uncertainty and anxiety. 

“Bird?” he inquires softly, raising an eyebrow. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he bites on his lip. “Sorry, nevamind, maybe ‘s a bit early fer that still. Yer not movin’ in fer anotha’ month, so ‘s okay,” he finishes, trying to diffuse the situation with a soft laugh. 

You deliver your answer by grabbing the full wine glass and bringing it to your lips that part with a smile, “I’d love to stay over and steal your ‘jammies’,” you reply softly, the wine surprising your lips with its sweetness and chill. His face collapses into a blushing laugh as he shakes his head. 

“Birdy, you li’l shit,” he remarks, clucking his tongue as he pours the rest of the bottle into the second glass for himself. “Ya can’t scare me like that, thought I jus’ made a proper fool o’ meself.” 

“No, you could never make a fool of yourself in my eyes, Harry,” you mumble, setting down the wine glass on your short walk over to him. Your fingers soon find him, first on his backside where you cup his ass, earning another head shake from him.  

“Ya really fancy me bum, dontcha, love?” he snickers, setting down the bottle with a clud, twirling the metal cap back on quickly. He turns around to face you, but you leave your hand on his bum. 

“Mmmhmm, it’s quite nice,” you try to say seriously, but it comes out accompanied with a laugh. 

“So ‘s yers, y’know,” he winks, slapping your butt as he dips to plant a kiss on your lips. “We betta go find out what that li’l boy ‘s doin’ in there, prolly gettin’ into trouble.” 

“In a second,” you whisper, placing your hand on the back of his neck slowly. 

“Jus’ a second?” 

“Maybe more,” you shrug, feeling the wispy hairs on the back of his neck as the golden glints in his eyes come into focus. 

His rose lips spread into a smile, showing his straight teeth, and disappearing when your lips meet his in a kiss. The remnants of the chocolatey brownies you had for dessert linger on his lips. Wafts of dark smoke from when he started the fire in the fireplace titillate your senses, coming to be a favorite smell you associate with him. 

“You taste and smell so fucking good, like brownies at a bonfire,” you breathe against his lips, your eyes wandering to his that stare at you so adoringly you feel like you’ve already had five glasses of wine. 

“Look at tha potty mouth on you, can’t believe it sumtimes,” he smirks from above you, the smell of cocoa hitting your face. 

“Yeah well, you sure like to kiss it a lot.”

“I do, don’t I?” Harry coos, brushing the pad of his thumb along your lip, adding another theoretical glass of wine to the overflow of your senses. “I’d kiss it bloody all day long, if I could.” 

Your head fills with wishes similar to those as his lips caress yours, but you’re broken apart when you hear a whine from nearby. Parting, you both peer into the other room, finding Gatsby waiting in the doorway. You swear that he stares at the both of you while he lifts a leg and pees onto the dark wooden floor. 

“Well, so much fer that,” Harry giggles, stealing a kiss from your cheek before he lets go of you. “Where’d ya leave those baby wipes we were usin’, love?” 

*

Although Harry’s pajama bottoms swallow your entire bottom, legs, feet, and all, you can’t help but smile at them. The gentle smell of his laundry detergent reminds you of marshmallows for some reason, and you couldn’t be happier as it envelopes you. His Beatles shirt falls over your head and comes down to your thighs, but you’re not complaining. I think these are tha smallest ‘ve got, they should fit, he had murmured a mere minute before as he handed you the folded pile of clothes. Okay, Harry, if you insist, you think silently as you inspect your appearance with a dumbfounded smile. 

With a nervous grin, you set your outfit from today on a shelf in the cabinet and turn off the light. You can hear Harry talking to Gatsby as your socked feet pad down the hallway, easing your nerves quickly. Low and behold, once you push the door open, you find him sitting on Harry’s chest, looking like he’s getting a talking to. Sure enough he is, you find. 

“‘s time t’ go t’ bed now, so we’re all gonna sleep in dis bed. Please try not t’ pee on daddy’s sheets. Ya have a pillow t’ lay on down at tha end o’ tha bed, and yer bed’s on tha floor in tha corner. There’s one o’ those blue plastic sheets down fer ya t’ go pee too, alright? Understood?” he tells the puppy with a toothy smile, wagging a finger at him and twirling one of his floppy ears around another 

“Uh oh, somebody’s in trouble,” you joke, leaning against the doorframe. When Harry’s eyes carry over to you, you self consciously cross your arms over your chest not contained by a bra. “What?” you mumble, narrowing your eyes at him as he stares at you, that toothy grin only growing wider. 

“Nothing,” he confesses, looking back to Gatsby with reddening cheeks, stealing glances at you every now and then. 

“Harry,” you continue with emphasis, dashing around the bed to slide under the cream covers on the right side. “Hi, Gatsby,” you coo excitedly when his tail begins to wag frantically, pulling a giggle from your lips when he turns towards you, hitting Harry in the face. 

“Gosh, kid,” he manages, lifting the puppy up to pass him to you. You’re almost drowned in puppy kisses to the face, sending giggles from your lips. The puppy’s name flies into the air as you try to fight him off. “Guess he likes that taste o’ tha toothpaste.”

“I guess so,” you agree aloud, finally his attack of kisses ending. Soon, he forgets you and wanders around the bed sniffing. He finally lies down and curls up against Harry’s leg towards the end of the bed. 

“I sacrifice one o’ my pillows fer ya t’ lie on, and that’s where ya lay?” Harry huffs, but soon an adoring whine sounds behind his lips as he admires the puppy. “I guess we tired him out runnin’ laps downstairs.”

“Yeah, it’s about time. He has so much energy, I can’t believe it,” you murmur in agreement. When you look over to see the look on his face for the puppy, instead you find his eyes waiting on you. “What? Do I have toothpaste on my face?”

“No, but if ya did Gats’ woulda gott’it,” Harry hums, nevertheless brushing a thumb across your cheek with the sappiest smile you’ve seen him wear in a long time. “Ya jus’ look . . cuter than I thought ya’d look in me clothes, bird.”

“I’m swimming in them, how is that cute?” you ask, pulling on the front of the shirt as proof, eliciting a loud laugh from Harry. 

“‘m sorry, I thought they’d fit betta. But they look great on you, they really do. E’rythin’ does, and sumhow I love me jammies on ya best,” he remarks, his hand coming to cup your cheek. “Yer so beautiful, birdy. ‘m gonna go get ready fer bed too, befo’ I keep blabberin’.”

The smirk painted on his face looks much like the one you’re sure is consuming yours at his words. He folds back the covers and Gatsby moves over as Harry leaves the bed, but you grab hold of his hand at the last second. He turns to you with a questioning look, saying he has to go and brush his teeth. 

“I like it when you blabber, especially to me,” you share, pulling on his arm until he returns to lean over the bed, steadying himself with a hand on the mattress. 

“There’s n’body else ‘d ratha blab t’ than you, love, and ‘m guessin’ we’re in fer a long night with this li’l one,” he smiles, pecking you fast before his hand slips from yours and he leaves the room. 

Yawning, you slide back under the covers and pull them over your shoulders, savoring Harry’s smell they hold. Your head falls onto the satiny pillowcase as the top plush blanket a shade of sage caresses your cheek. A huff tickles at your ears and you find Gatsby’s made his way over to you and settles his head to fall on your calf, his large ears splaying out on the splash of green. Emails and texts on your phone occupy your time as you wait for Harry, listening to Gatsby’s adorable little sounds where he’s curled up beside you. Your sleepy hand finds his furry body, keeping you warm, and you tickle his fur as you turn your phone off to set on the table at your bedside. 

“Look at you two, snug as a bug in a rug, ‘d say,” Harry murmurs out of nowhere, appearing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. For a second, you think you need to do the same because you’re sure the image in front of you is a mirage of some sort. Harry scratches at his bare chest, a yawn leaving his lips while stretching his bare arms into the air. “Oh sorry, I neva sleep with a shirt on, I hope that’s okay. It doesn’t make ya feel weird, does it?” he questions, closing the bedroom door so Gatsby won’t wander around the house, as he said earlier. 

“N-No, it’s okay,” you mumble, trying not to stare as he pads across the room. The closer he gets, the more your heart freaks out in your chest, you’re sure of it. “I like it,” you confess, suddenly wishing you weren’t so good at this blurting out secrets thing. 

“Oh, d’ya now?” he smirks, shutting off the overhead light, leaving his lamp on to carry soft light on his side of the bed. You suffice a response with a shrug of your shoulders, cozying into the bed as he slips under the top sheet, pillowy comforter and blanket. 

“Yer sumthin’, aren’t ya, birdy?” he quips, flicking off his lamp, leaving the soft glow of a few night lights he installed about ten minutes ago for you and Gatsby, his guests. 

“Something special,” you tease with a snicker, hearing his breathy one in return, and soon finding his face lit by the glow. 

“That, ya are, love. My sumthin’ special,” he acknowledges, the squeak of the mattress following his words as he arrives at your side. “If ya need anythin’ tonight, ya can wake me, alright? Figure we might be up a few times with him, anyways.” 

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Welcome, bird, I hope ya have sweet dreams. ‘m glad ya stayed fer a sleepova, thank you,” he hums, a dimple falling into his cheek with his words, leading you to think if you had any they’d already be there in your cheeks. Sometimes you can’t believe your luck. 

“Of course,” you answer, leaning forward to place your lips atop his. He giggles into the kiss as your lips move together, the spearmint in his toothpaste forgotten as it tickles your own tongue too after he gave you a spare toothbrush. His hand comes to rest on your side and it feels peculiar with the absence of his rings, but you savor it and it’s warmth. 

His bottom lip remains between yours, pillowy soft and warm until you begin to hear Gatsby’s snores and your fingers have found the bravery to roam his chest. The cheekiness comes out in you when one wanders to his bum, giving it a good squeeze through the checkered fabric of his ‘jammies’ as he so adorably calls them. A muffled snicker slides into his mouth when the hand on your side drifts to your bottom with a soft slap. You’re grateful for his absence of a shirt, letting your fingers admire the slope of his back warm against your fingers that are cold from washing up. The little hairs all over his body are satiny smooth beneath your fingertips, just like his top lip that you take between yours, your hurried breaths filling the air. 

“‘Kay, bird, time t’ get sum sleep. We can snog in tha mornin’, ‘m beat afta t’day with school and runnin’ after this li’l boy,” Harry sighs after ending the kiss, mirroring your frown but much more dramatically. “Get sum sleep, ‘ll see ya in tha mornin’. We’ll all three go t’ tha shops t’ buy tha rest o’ his stuff and ingredients fer pizza t’morrow,” he yawns, leaving a kiss on your nose afterward. You nod in response and hastily lay a kiss on his cheek. Nervously, you pull away, afraid you’re pushing his buttons, but he just smiles and kisses you on the lips one last time. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” you whisper, arms diving back under the warm covers as you try to get comfortable without moving Gatsby. 

“Night, bird . . and Gatsby.”

“Goodnight, Gatsby,” you murmur, patting his small head softly, his snores continuing against your leg. 

“Oh, I see how it ‘s, yer already becomin’ a mumma’s boy,” Harry tuts, clucking his tongue as he squirms in the bed, finding his sweet spot. You drift off soon next to your two boys, counting down the days until you get to fall asleep with them by your side every night. 

*

Browsing YouTube, you scroll through the videos that appeared from your search request for haikus. Yawning, you rub at your eye as you pause your scrolling and inspect a video before playing it. It doesn’t get a chance to play very far when you’re interrupted by a voice. 

“Thanks fer tha lunch again, bird. Ya really do spoil me, I always forget t’ make one,” Harry hums, waltzing into your classroom holding the Rolling Stones lunchbox you had bought for him for Christmas last month. He sets it down on a clean corner of your desk, leaning across it to peck you on the cheek. 

“You’re welcome. Did you eat everything?” you ask, dragging it over and undoing the zippers. 

“Ya. I loved tha bagel sandwich you packed tha fixings fer, and tha soup was lovely,” he hums, leaning against your desk, crossing his arms over the soft yellow button-up covered in black flower designs. 

“No, you didn’t,” you disagree smiling, opening one of the small pockets to take out a box. 

“What, how’d I miss those? You musta hid ‘em from me!” Harry exclaims, taking the box of Chocolate Banana Pocky from your grasp. A cocky giggle of his fills the air as he opens the box and rips open the white bag. 

“Harry, you better not eat those all in one sitting!” you warn. He looks you in the eyes as he sticks four of them into his mouth and takes a bite, a smirk playing along his lips. “Harry Styles!” you proclaim, sitting forward and threatening to rip the box from his hand. He only giggles harder and takes another bite, the four pocky gone in a flash as he crunches on the rest of them loudly. 

Shaking your head, you watch him walk away, sticking three more between his rose lips. You sigh with a smile, unsure of just how many times you’ve seen him devour a box of them within an hour, or less. 

“What’s your full name?” you wonder aloud, looking away from the computer screen and to him where he stops in your doorway, turning around. 

“Well ‘m not gonna delight ya with that info afta ya jus’ yelled at me, now am I? ‘m sure ya jus’ wanna use it t’ yell at me su’more,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders as he shoves the rest of the half-eaten pocky into his mouth, winking. You can hear his chewing all the way from here. “And no, yer not gettin’ any o’ me pocky.”

*

The deep breaths just don’t stick, and soon you find yourself out of your chair and pacing your classroom. You busy yourself picking up forgotten pencils and papers on the floor, tidying the messy containers of books, and the disaster that is your desk. 

“Ya ready t’ go?” somebody sings from your doorway where a shuffling sound comes from as well. “Birdy?”

You don’t respond, unfreezing your hands from the sound of his voice. Instead, you flip over a copy of The Tempest and replace it in the bin right side up, because Harry would not allow that to be done to a Shakespeare. His shuffling of feet comes next, tapping along the floor and getting closer. A swallow is met with the lump in your throat, and you brush the back of your hand over your cheek, hoping they’re gone. 

“Hey, anybody home?” Harry laughs, arriving at your side and slinging an arm around your waist. “‘m ready t’ go, if you are, love. ‘m sure Gatsby ‘s waitin’ fer us at my place, all excited. He’s missed you, y’know,” he coos, pecking your cheek. 

“Yeah, sorry I-.”

“Hey, yer phone’s ringin’. Here, ‘ll grab it fer ya,” he volunteers, soon feeling his absence as his footsteps are drowned out by the loud ringtone. “It says ‘s yer mum.” Closing your eyes, you groan quietly or at least try to. Soon, he’s at your side again and places it in your hands where you hit decline. 

“What, why didn’t ya answer?” he questions, probably eyebrows knitted together in the cutest way possible, like he does. You don’t look though, so you’re not sure as you shove it into your pocket, busying your hands with the mess of books before you. Removing a copy of The Christmas Carol that was shoved into the front of another bin backward, you replace it to face forward now. “Birdy, what’s goin’ on?” he continues, a hand settling on your arm, but when you reach to grab another book his hand grabs it. It leaves your fingers to grace your chin, turning your head to look at him. 

“I just don’t want to talk to her right now,” you reply softly, hoping he won’t detect the spent tears that aren’t so invisible on your cheeks. 

“Oh,” he breathes, a dimple falling into his cheek when his mouth quirks into a confused expression under his layer of five-day-old stubble. “Y’know, ya’ve neva talked much ‘bout yer parents, ‘d like t’ meet ‘em. I mean we’re movin’ in togetha soon and ‘m sure they’d like t’ meet Gatsby. Ya met me sista fer tha first time tha otha day.”

This time you’re positive he doesn’t see the tear streaks or how they still cling to your eyelashes coated in mascara. Boys can sometimes be so ugh, you mutter to yourself amongst your thoughts. You knew this was coming the second she called, and well, months ago, but you had hoped you could’ve gotten by longer without it. 

“You don’t want to meet them,” is all you say as you turn away, his hand dropping from your chin now cold from the drought of his touch. You soon arrive back at your desk where you pick up a stack of worksheets from this week’s vocabulary words, looking for a paperclip to fasten them. 

“You can’t decide what I want and don’t want, bird. I don’t like that,” Harry responds, and you can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. “I mean, ya met my parents already, why can’t I meet yours? I don’t undastand.” 

“I don’t want you to meet them,” you reply, setting the now fastened stack on one of the wire shelves of the little stackable organizer on your desk. You continue to avoid his gaze by gathering together another stack of today’s green root words quizzes. 

“I thought we weren’t keepin’ secrets, bird, but ya can come ova when yer ready t’ tell me. ‘m goin’ home, so take howeva much time ya need,” he grumbles with a loud exhale, almost slamming the door to your classroom on his way out. 

Sinking into your chair, your hands rake through your hair as a defeated sigh joins the air. Another one falls after the next when you spot the neon blue Post-It note stuck to the underside of your desk, just at the edge where you would’ve spotted it, just like you have. The crack along your heart only grows deeper when you begin to read his messy chicken scratch, and all of the love that leaks from its words. 

Birdy, 

Gatsby wanted me to tell you that you are such a greatttttttt mummy already, and that he loves you soooooo much! His daddy loves you too ;) I’m looking forward to making homemade pasta together tonight, you always have the greatest ideas. My students asked me today when I’m going to ask you out on a date, soooo would you like to go out on a date with me this weekend, toooooo pack up your apartment to come and live with me? ;) I’m so excited to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep next to you every night, bird. Only two more weeks! Fourteen more sleeps, it’s not like I’m counting or anything. 

I love you, so much

Harry xoxo

*

“C’min!” a voice drawls when you rap your fist against the door. The warm inviting scent of cinnamon greets you when you walk into Harry’s house an hour later, along with the growing puppy who scurries over to you. 

“Hi, bud,” you murmur with a smile, giving him a good petting as his tail sweeps along the floor. “Is daddy still crabby?” you ask him, closing the door behind you with your foot. 

After toeing off your boots and hanging up your coat, you peek into the kitchen where the smell of onion, garlic, and broccoli waft from. Harry stands at the stove in a shirt and sweatpants, rolling his bottom lip between his fingers. You don’t get much of a chance to figure out what mood he’s in, because Gatsby jumps up onto your lap, licking all over your face. 

You play with the puppy in the living room as Harry cooks in the kitchen until he announces the food is ready, homemade pasta night forgotten apparently. You eat together silently while watching TV, Gatsby begging at your feet. You thought that things were better now when compared to earlier, but for the rest of the night something was off between the two of you. You focused your attention on Gatsby who you swear has grown since the last time you saw him, if only a few days ago. Now, he fills your lap comfortably, and you’re sad to say goodbye to him when you leave early. You just couldn’t take the awkwardness floating in the air anymore, and left after a short peck from Harry. 

*

The next day, a Saturday, Harry showed up with Gatsby and a bunch of cardboard boxes to pack close to the last of your stuff. You tried to make it up to him by cooking him breakfast, which he loved, but you still felt it sticking to every moment that passed. You weren’t sure if you should bring it up or not, and at the same time you were waiting for him to bring it up, readying your defenses. Something was clearly bothering him or on his mind, and as you bubble wrapped things and packed them away, you were curious about why he kept looking at his phone. Then around one in the afternoon, after a few hours of packing, he stepped out to take a call. 

“What’s going on with daddy, Gats’?” you posed to the puppy who ignored you, albeit stealing a look at you, returning to the rawhide he’s been intent on destroying. You swallow nervously, glancing over to the hallway outside your bedroom where you can just make out his voice. Tearing your gaze from it, you try to busy yourself by gently placing the wrapped picture frame in the box, and picking up the next one. 

“Everything okay?” you ask softly when Harry returns, shoving his phone into the back pocket of his blue jeans. 

“Ya, e’rythin’s fine,” he replies casually, pulling at the collar of his charcoal-colored henley shirt. 

“Okay,” you mumble quietly, wishing you could forget about packing and admire the way that shirt hugs him in all of the right places. That will have to wait for another day when he wears it, you agree silently, seeing that he’s not in the mood today for his buttons to be pushed. You don’t want to find out what happens when you push them when he’s in a bad mood. You try to forget about it as he helps you pack up some of the less necessary items in your bedroom, like summer clothes, novels, photo albums, CDs, DVDs, and more. 

*

As you stare at the barren shelves of your fridge, you make a mental note to go grocery shopping soon, something you’ve forgotten recently with finals approaching at school and packing. 

“Do you want to get takeaway or go out for lunch?” you call out to Harry, leaving the kitchen to find him sitting on the sofa in your living room. He’s staring at something intently on his phone, but when he hears your footsteps behind him, he quickly hides his phone in his pocket. 

“Takeaway’s fine,” he answers, clearing his throat, his nervous tic. 

“Harry, is something going on? You’ve been acting weird, like you’re hiding something,” you assert, walking around to face him. You’re unsure of what he’ll say as you’re unable to read his face, and you know that’s when it’s bad. 

“What, so yer tha only one who can keep secrets?” he retorts, his face screwed up in crude disbelief. You’re sure the same emotion painting yours is even worse as you feel the sting of his words. He sighs as you shake your head, beginning to walk away. “Bird, stop, ‘m sorry.” 

“What, Harry?” you ask, stopping your feet, but not turning around to face him. You hear him breathe in deeply among the squeaking of Gatsby’s toy he plays with on the couch beside Harry. 

“I was offa’d a teachin’ job t’day, a few hours north at that Wright Arts Academy, that’s who called me,” he announces solemnly. The only thing you’re grateful for in the moment is the fact that he can’t see the look on your face as you’re positive every breath just left your body. “They’re so focused on enrichin’ tha students in arts, ‘s great. ‘d be teachin’ classes like Mythology, a whole class on Shakespeare, Improv, Rhetoric, Intro to Sci-fi and Fantasy, and jus’ so many great English courses. Tha classes are smaller and so ya get t’ know yer students betta. ‘d get t’ teach ‘bout my favourite, Shakespeare, fer an entire semesta, bird! They’re offerin’ me more money, too . . ,” he continues, and you’re unsure of when you want him to stop, or if you wish he had never begun. Suddenly, you do a three-sixty when your thoughts are consumed by the happiness and excitement in his voice. 

“You should take it,” you say, spinning around to look at him. His eyes are stuck on a random part of the wall, but then he looks to you. 

“But ‘s three hours away, bird? ‘d hafta move away and we’re s’posed t’ move in togetha,” he counters, eyebrows falling and quickly you’re more confused than you were a moment ago. 

“You’ve always wanted to teach those kinds of classes, Harry, you’ve told me so yourself.” 

“But, birdy-.”

“Take the job, Harry, if it’s what you want,” you insist, trying to smile at him, but it doesn’t stay long when you see the look on his face. 

“I dunno if ‘s what I want, yet. I don’ wanna move away from you, I don’ wanna do long distance. Wait, do you? ‘s tha movin’ in with me too soon, are ya gettin’ cold feet?” 

“What are you talking about? Harry, no of course not. Where are you getting this from?” you reply, dumbfounded at the words coming out of his mouth. Apparently, you can only grow more confused. 

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with not wantin’ me t’ meet yer parents, I dunno, you tell me, bird. D’ya not wanna commit? Why would ya want me t’ take a job that would make us do long distance?” 

“I don’t know, Harry, maybe because I want you to be happy!” you exclaim, feeling telltale signs of incoming tears, and they fly faster than you thought they could have. “You’ve told me that you’ve always wanted to teach classes like those, because you enjoy those topics so much - myths in literature, science fiction and fantasy novels, and even though I don’t understand it, you love Shakespeare! You almost named Gatsby after Romeo or Duncan instead, you love his work so much. Of course, I don’t want you to move away, because things are so perfect right now having a job that means I get to work across the hall from my boyfriend. I can’t believe you think I’d want you to move away and do long distance. I would never- but I want you to be happy, and I’m not going to stop you from taking this job if it brought you that. I’m not going to be selfish and make you stay for my own happiness. A-and my parents are another story, I haven’t spoken to them in years. They’re just not good people. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I didn’t know how,” you finish, feeling grateful for that blurting talent of yours because sometimes you need it. Harry’s jaw almost hangs off its hinges as you stare back at him through blurry eyes, wishing the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Well, the last day. Quickly, the tears triple and you can’t stand him seeing you cry anymore because of the thoughts bashing against the walls of your head. 

“I’m going to go pick up lunch,” you say softly, defeat evident in your tone as you turn around. After grabbing your keys and coat, you stomp out to your car and start it. You wait for it to warm up as the cold air from the vents slowly turns warm, but really you only waste the time so you can spill your tears in silence. 

It takes all of your strength and willpower to not go back into your apartment and tell him not to leave, because you’re pretty sure it would break you. You can’t imagine a stranger teaching in Harry’s classroom, no shared kisses in the copier room and staff lounge, crossing the hall to ask him a question as soon as it pops into your head, and the fun you both have with your students trying to set the two of you up together albeit it being futile. The doubt of getting a job for yourself at this stupid Academy of Arts to join Harry only makes you feel worse, especially because of the memories your school holds for the both of you. 

Wiping your tears away, you try to take a deep breath that won’t come, and you pull the car away to leave him and hope that he won’t do the same to you. The tears left as you drove to go and pick up fast food, but they returned when Harry texted you while in the drive-thru to not get him anything because he was going home to think. Once you returned to the empty apartment, that’s all you could do was think, and it tore you apart. 

*

You had left Harry be for the rest of the weekend, although it was one of the hardest things you had done. You’d liken the effort to running a triathlon, although you’ve never done one of those, but you feel like you have the strength of a triathlete after giving him space. You relented and texted him once though, but just once. It was to ask for a picture of Gatsby who you missed, and he followed through, sending you a couple of pictures. They made you the happiest you’d been all weekend, even despite the tears that crept up when you saw Harry’s reflection in the mirror in one. Then his ringed hand holding Gatsby in another, a selfie of sorts with your favorite shirt of his on his torso. It all made you doubt your words the more, not wanting to have to suffice for only seeing him and Gatsby through pictures if he took the job. You were reminded of your reasoning for it all - wanting him to be happy, but it still gnawed away at you what that would mean if he moved. You tried not to let yourself get too carried away and at times you almost called him, but you weren’t sure who was the bad guy after your argument. You were the one who exploded on him, and you both kept secrets from the other, something you had recently agreed not to do. A promise that the both of you broke so soon. 

*

You had yet to see Harry the following Monday at school, even though you could hear the Cat Stevens album trickling from his classroom at seven-twenty in the morning. Somehow you avoided a run in on your way to the early morning staff meeting, and you didn’t mean to, but you were roped in to sit by a colleague. You found your first seconds of joy of the day when she showed you pictures of her growing baby, one Harry doted on and hogged during most of the staff Christmas party last month. You tried not to think of that while looking at the baby’s chunky thighs and rolls on her arms, and how much you wanted to tell him about it. The joy didn’t stay long when you spotted him taking a seat next to Julie, the visual arts teacher who has had a thing for him as long as you can remember. The pit in your stomach hardens at the sight of him, messy-haired and unshaven, and yet handsome as ever. Confliction carries your features when you spot him wearing the multi-colored Peter Max inspired pop-art button up you had bought him for Christmas. It all only gets worse when he senses your stare and meets your eyes, showing you the sadness hidden in them before you look back to the pictures of the baby. 

*

“Hey, teach! I have a question!” a tall brunette girl in your classroom whispers to you, glancing over to the librarian nervously. 

“Yes, Sabrina?” you reply, trying to ignore how some of the students call you that, but then again it’s some that you’re the closest to. 

“Um, Mr. Styles is just right over there, aren’t you going to go and talk to him?” she grins, playing with her ponytail, ignoring the computer in front of her. 

“Yeah, he’s looking extra cute today,” the girl beside her comments and you have to hold back your laughter. “But he was all glum when I had Creative Writing with him earlier, I don’t know what his deal is today.”

“Maybe he’d be happier if he had a girlfriend,” Sabrina comments wryly, raising her eyebrows at you. 

“Maybe I’d be happier if you two were doing your review for the final exam, and not trying to set me up with your teacher, when I can manage just fine on my own,” you comment firmly, trying to avert their attention back to their computer screens and review packet. 

“Hey, Mr. Styles, um Ms. Y/N needs some help with something about Shakespeare!” Sabrina calls to Harry two rows of computers to your right. 

“I don’t need help!” is all you say with a sigh, loud enough for him to hear, turning around the second you see his head of tousled curls lift where he’s leaning next to a student he helps. 

“He ignored you!” Sabrina’s friend exclaims in a whisper, inhaling dramatically along with Sabrina. “You’re not just going to let him ignore you, are you, Ms. Y/N?” 

“God, what you’d do to him, he’s usually all over you?” Sabrina sighs.

“Girls, please return to your work. I’m sure Mr. Styles is busy helping a student with their final review, which you’re supposed to be doing right now too. Finals are at the end of the week, we all need as much studying as we can get,” you calmly say although rather curtly, walking away when you see a student with their hand in the air. 

“I wish they’d just confess their love for each other already, they’re perfect for each other,” Sabrina grumbles, clicking her pen annoyingly. 

“Me too, then maybe they’d both stop being so crabby during finals week,” her friend notes aloud with an exasperated sigh. 

Usually you can take the teasing of your students wanting to set you up with Harry, but today you’re not in the mood for entertaining them or carrying a conversation about it. Today, it just hits a little too close to home, you realize silently as you lean against a wall to observe your class, the student no longer needing help. You steal a glance at Harry who stands up straight after helping a student, patting their shoulder with a smile. His attentiveness shines through when he moves on to another student, falling to his knees to get to eye level with him, giving them all of his attention. The way the shirt hugs his torso in every way only makes it all the worse, clinging to his biceps, the slope of his back, and his love handles you love so much before it disappears into the waist of his black slacks. 

“Ms. Y/N, are you okay?” Sabrina asks, her eyes on you when you look over to her. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got something in my eye,” you answer with a hard swallow, picking up your clipboard and checking your watch. You do anything to try and not think about Harry leaving, and how not only you would suffer, but his students. Also, just how much you’re dying to tell your students, hopefully one day soon, that you’ve been dating all along. Hopefully. 

*

Finals had been wreaking havoc on you and only causing more hell for the day you were having. Luckily, Harry had helped you with the majority of it in the recent weeks and even had given you some of his old tests. The anxiety still overwhelmed you at times wondering if you’re preparing your students enough, if the final review packet was too much or not enough, and if your students would be ready. Finals were going to be the death of you, you were sure, if Harry’s revelation about the job offer wouldn’t kill you before then. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, if he had sought it out and applied, or how it even came about. It drove you even more crazy as the tests neared, knowing that you’d be spending the rest of the week in your classroom from seven-thirty most likely until five pm every day, with him just across the hall.

You craved his voice and his touch, his hugs, and that laugh that could fix anything in seconds. That Monday and Tuesday you didn’t mean to ignore him, but when he walked into the staff room while you were in there, your feet found their way to the door quickly. You’re sure you could have left the bone you bought for Gatsby on his desk or bring it over to his house, but instead you left it in his mailbox with a note. 

Give this to Gatsby, please. Tell him it’s from Mummy xx

It stung when you found it in your mailbox later that day with a note from him. 

You can give it to him yourself the next time you come over :) xo

It was even automatic when you agreed to get lunch with Lola on Tuesday, even though that was the day you and Harry always went and got pizza together. During your prep hour that morning, you lingered in the staff room after he made his appearance. But when Julie the art teacher started to compliment how good he looked wearing the tie you bought for him with Fleetwood Mac song titles covering the fabric, it drove you up the wall. She didn’t stop there, and continued on about how nice he looked and how much she liked his returning beard, making you want to throw up onto your doughnut you had just warmed up. You dropped it into a trash bin in the hallway after deserting the scene, unable to endure her flirting with him and not being able to do anything about it. It pained you to not be able to tell her to stop because he’s your boyfriend, but you and Harry had agreed early on to not share your relationship with colleagues unless necessary. 

It was all becoming too much for you to handle, finals week and kind of fighting with Harry and thinking about him moving away. Too much too quickly. 

*

The hard copy of Creative Writing’s final exam sat in front of you that Tuesday afternoon. The sun already hides beyond the horizon outside the windows hugging the wall to the left of you. This has to be the second or third time you’ve printed a copy to look over, always finding something wrong with it, but this time you think maybe you’ve found a winner. The clicking of your pen meets your ears when you think you find a problem, but it’s whisked away when there’s another click. Your classroom door opens and in walks Harry, playing with the black-tie dotted with song titles of all different colors. 

“Hi,” he rasps, gently closing the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you return, eyes straying to the test in front of you. Your attempt to continue checking it is futile as goosebumps cover your skin and your heart hammers away. 

“Gatsby misses you.”

“I miss him too,” you reply, feeling the tears press at the back of your eyes with warmth, trying not to think about not seeing him for months at a time if Harry moved. 

“I declined tha job yestaday,” he announces gently, but the whiplash you feel from looking to him quickly almost hurts. His bubblegum lips sit in a taut and nervous line, hands bunched into fists in the pockets of his red slacks. They leave your view when the printed words on the test return in your eyes, growing hazy quickly. “Can ya say sumthin’, please, bird?”

“I hope you didn’t do it for me,” is all you say, hoping the true meaning comes out in your honest tone muddled by your waterworks. 

“‘Course I did it fer you. I did it fer us, and Gatsby. I did it coz ‘m ashamed it took me longa than ten minutes t’ figure out that no matta tha luxuries, that’s not my dream job. I already have my dream job, ‘s here teaching across tha hall from you, gettin’ t’ have ya botha me durin’ my prep hour, combine our classrooms t’ play Jeopardy, have our students harass us t’ go onn’a date already, and gettin’ t’ have a snog with you wheneva I want. I don’ care if I don’ get t’ teach all those bloody fancy classes and get paid mo’, coz I lose all o’ that here that already makes me so happy. ‘m sorry I didn’t realize it earlier,” Harry confesses, emotions wavering in his voice that he clears a few times, taking slow steps over to where you sit. 

“You know . . . ,” you begin, listening to the silence that takes your words and probably how much they’re killing him right now, especially when you leave you chair. “I think we’re going to have to tell our students sooner or later, because they’re driving me nuts. So are these tight outfits you keep wearing, they make it really hard not to attack you with kisses whenever I see you.”

A smile explodes on Harry’s lips, the first you’ve seen him wear in days, as you approach him. Your hands sing when they touch his chest, feeling the necklace under the fabric before they wrap around the buttery smooth fabric of his tie. 

“Y’know,” he begins sarcastically, a hand coming to his chin where he strokes his new beard, although not quite as majestic as it’s been before. What a little shit. “I think ya might be right on that one, but I like t’ watch ‘em squirm. ‘s been fun t’ hear ‘em get all frustrated ‘bout us not datin’ yet,” he giggles, his rings finding their home on your back once again. 

“Little do they know, huh?”

“Oh yes, very li’l,” he chuckles, the dimples falling into his cheeks under his patchy facial hair that you love so much. Quickly, they disappear and his cheeks flatten from their prior roundness. “‘m sorry y’know, so sorry, birdy. I was a proper asshole t’ ya, I feel terrible ‘bout it.”

The tears signal their return when his head falls and you spot one escape and fall down his cheek. You catch it with your thumb before it can get very far and lift his chin up to have him look at you. You thought your heart couldn’t hurt after everything he had said moments ago, but it wrenches inside of your chest at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes, tears falling from them. 

“Harry, please don’t cry. It’s okay, we all make mistakes. I just want you to know that I am committed to you, so much so that I can’t wait to move in with you . . and Gatsby.”

“I know, ‘m sorry I ever doubted it, I dunno why I did. ‘m committed too, coz I love ya so much, birdy. I love you,” he weeps, shaky words hitting the air that you pass when you pull him into your arms. “I didn’t know I could miss ya so much ova jus’ four days,” he continues, his hot tears meeting your neck as his beard leaves tickles after brushing it. Your heart breaks even further at the feeling of his chest trembling with a sob against yours.

“I know, Harry, me too,” you coo, raking your fingers through his hair as he holds onto you, his face hiding in your neck. 

“Plus, I couldn’t take tha job coz ‘m not gonna be one o’ those shit parents who makes Gatsby spend a different weekend at each parent’s house. Also I miss you makin’ me lunches, I neva rememba,” he cries against your skin, his subsequent giggle gracing your ears. He’s the first to pull away and your heart aches a little harder at the tears painting his face, ones you try to make quick work of. 

“Good, I don’t think I’d have the heart to tell him, so it’d have to be you.”

“‘Fair is foul and foul is fair’,” he pouts dramatically, quoting a certain William, the pad of your thumb swiping below his left eye, feeling his feathery eyelashes against your skin. “Guess we’ll hafta stay togetha then,” he sighs sarcastically, pursing his lips that soon sing out a bubbly laugh still adorned with the remnants of tears. 

“Oh, I’m sure our students would harass us to get back together if that were ever to happen,” you giggle, adoring his wispy dark eyelashes that clump together with wet tears, his murky green eyes peeking up at you beneath them. 

“Ya, they’re gettin’ ratha rowdy ‘bout that, aren’t they?” he notes aloud, clucking his tongue as if disappointed then sniffling. Your thumb wanders to his forehead to smooth out the crease that’s formed between his eyebrows, pulling his eyes to yours. “‘d love t’ tell ‘em but ‘s fun t’ watch ‘em go crazy right now, but sumday, ya.” 

“Yeah, we have to make it fun first,” you agree, catching the last tear with your finger, hands wandering to his tie the same dark color of his button-up. 

“Right, you are,” he hums, eyes darting to your lips as you slowly yank on the tie, bringing him closer. “I knew I hadd’a smart birdy.”

His smile dissolves against your lips that surround his in the sweetest kiss containing the unsaid words and forgotten kisses from the last few days. Sorry’s pass between your lips as his warm rings press into the small of your back, the tie caught between your hands until you let go, certain he’s not going anywhere anymore. His lips sputter a laugh against yours when both of your hands come to caress his lovely bum that you squeeze greedily. 

“Watch those naughty finga’s o’ yers now,” he warns through hooded eyes, the bitter smell of black coffee dancing across your face. 

“Or what?” you reply with a shrug, the both of you feeling your fingers slowly dive underneath the tight fabric of his pants. 

“Or yer gonna catch me without any briefs on one o’ these times,” he replies, trying to keep a straight face until the words leave his mouth that soon pecks yours. 

“Oooo, I’d like to see that happen,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him until he collapses into laughter above you. 

“I dunno what ‘ll do with ya, bird, with a potty mouth like that.”

“Well, you can’t dump me now, we have a son together,” you shrug dramatically, mouth pressed into a fake line as you watch his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Very true, altho’ a crappy joke there. I guess I might hafta kiss that potty mouth outta ya.”

“I’d like to see you try, Mr. Styles,” you counter, happy to see the tears have abated from the both of you, hoping you don’t find them again for months and months. 

“Oh, would you, Ms. Y/N? ‘ll take that bet, and if I win it, ya hafta come ova and make Gatsby and I dinna t’night. And have wine with me and stay tha night, gotta get su’more practice befo’ ya move in with me soon,” Harry continues, a smug expression donning his features. 

“Deal,” you say, squealing when his hands come under your bottom and lift you up to sit you on a nearby desk. The words on your lips disappear when he plants his lips on yours hastily, hands drifting along your waist. “You better get it all out before our field trip next week.”

“‘The lady doth protest too much, me thinks,’” Harry replies, quoting Shakespeare with a funny look on his face, replacing his lips on top of yours. Your tongue scoops up and into his mouth that he parts for you, tasting the Bit-O-Honey he just had that you’re sure his pockets are full of if you checked. You giggle into his mouth when your hands brush against his thighs, sure enough feeling the hard candies in his pockets on your way to explore his bum again. 

“‘We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep,’” you recite as your nose draws a line across his cheek moments later, leaving him silent. A smile curls upon his cheeks at the sound, astonishment playing with his features. 

“Our students are right, we really should be t’getha, birdy. I love me a Shakespeare girl. ‘The course of true love never did run smooth,’ but I think ours ‘s doin’ pretty well, if I do say so meself.” 

[love-is-four-legged-word]

From: My pup doin’ a wink and a smile! @greenthot

[totallydoglife]

My pup doin’ a wink and a smile!

[cute-pet-animals-aww]

My pup doin’ a wink and a smile!

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne Part 1 Chapter 9 Hullooooo Rhea B.

Dougal was the first to awaken when the guard returned a few hours later. He felt disorientated but not anxious. It still felt more like a dream than anything else. He was a practical man however and understood this was his new reality. Whatever it took to survive this well, he would do. Perhaps he would get back to Scotland sooner rather than later but it wasn’t uppermost on his mind. Claire was.

He was highly curious about the time and place they found themselves in. How did the people here make do? He decided to put off his questions of the past for another day. She would know what had happened. He wanted her help with the present now though. He’d have to wake her, whether Jamie liked it or no.

He noted when the guard went back up the steps that it was still dark outside but dawning. Time to be about it then. He quietly made his way to her side and shook her shoulder. “Claire, time to wake lass. Will ye help wi the dressing? The Nun didna tell us anything ye ken? She just picked it and handed it over.”

Dougal was not happy to see her cozied up to Jamie’s side. He tried not to think about the fact that he had arranged this marriage or that they seemed to be drawing closer because of it. He knew, now, and probably even then, she was too good for the likes of this boy. She deserved a man such as himself. He would just have to arrange for her to see it as well. He could make himself the more needed man, of that he was sure.

“Dougal for heaven’s sake, it’s just a pair of breeks, a shirt and a jacket, with a belt and a tie. Oh, alright maybe you might need help with the tie and the purpose of the undergarments, but did you have to wake me up for it?” Claire groused as she sat up.

Dougal noted her shift as the blanket fell away and smiled at her as he took in her tousled appearance. “Well now, and how long does it take ye to tame those curls of a morning? I dinna think I e’re noticed just how much hair ye have lass. Tis bonny.”

“Dougal just what in the hell do ye think yer doin man?” Jamie, who had taken his dirk from beneath his head,when he heard the guard come down the stairs, said as he sat up next to Claire. “If my wife is sleeping it’s no yer place to be waking her with compliments.” He frowned, pointing his dirk at Dougal’s face whilst covering Claire up to her nose in blanket with his other hand.

Claire laughed and pushed the dirk back down, along with the cover and stood up slowly. “Dougal head to the sink and wash up with this and then I will see to your attire and everyone else’s” she said, collecting a towel and the soap from the kit bag. “We can’t be walking the streets looking like dirty ragamuffins you fool. Get the worst of the dirt off your face, neck and hands and I’ll be right there.”

He gave her a long look in the lightening room, appreciating her unembarrassed form. “Well, just so then.” He said, turning on his heel and calling to the other men. “Wake up lads, Claire wants us presentable.” He deliberately did not say “Mrs. Fraser”. He wouldn’t give Jamie the satisfaction. Presumptuous pup. Thinking he needed reminding, did he?

He spent a moment flipping the light switch before he got down to the business at hand. Amazing really. He didn’t care about privacy, so he didn’t shut the door behind him. Thinking himself a fine figure of a man who hadn’t lost his own form, he had no issues with letting anyone see what he was about. He took his time cleaning up and then selected the attire she said from his own pile and waited for her.

“You don’t tuck the breeks into your boots. There should be an undershirt there to use before the shirt. These are underwear, called boxers, put them on before the pants. Stop looking at me like that Angus! They are necessary. This is the jacket to match and this tie will do.” Claire said, heading to Murtagh’s pile next and selecting his garments then Angus’s before heading back to Jamie’s. “We will need to get you all shoes as well as haircuts today. Men only wear their boots for working now and hair is kept short. Most men won’t have beards either. We shouldn’t draw too much notice. Let me use the washroom next please, so I can help with the ties after I get dressed. Also, there is food in this pack from the Priest, be sure to eat something before we head out. I don’t know if the guard has a vehicle and we may have another long walk ahead.”

Claire was back to her healer tone Dougal noted. He admired that as well. He would never tell her that though. Wouldn’t want her thinking he liked or wanted a woman telling him what to do. With much harrumphing and grumbling, the men dressed and took their turns after Claire in the washroom. He watched as she had Jamie hold up a blanket so she could dress behind it.

“Jesus Claire! You aren’a wearing that!” he heard Jamie say furiously after a few minutes. The he let out a string of profanity in the Ghalidgh that she couldn’t possibly understand. Curious to see her and what the fuss was about, Dougal made his way back to them. Claire had on what looked to be a belted, flowered shift and she was showing her fine legs! They seemed to shine and her shoes were heeled and red, not the slipper kind he was used to seeing. She was pushing her hair up into a hat that looked to be made of straw and flopped down on one side. It had a large red ribbon behind the brim.

Dougal laughed loudly. “Tis a bit like the shift Murtagh found you in, I like it.” Jamie dropped all pretense at sense after hearing this and shoved him. He shoved him back, twice as hard. “If you do that again, I’ll put you on your arse you idiot.” He said while holding a hand out to Claire.  “Let’s head up and see what this day is bringing…”

He didn’t see the punch coming because he was too focused on her. It took him square in the jaw and swung his head to the far right. He tasted blood and spun back to Jamie, reaching for his throat. He felt Angus and Murtagh rushing in from behind to join what promised to be a fine brawl.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt CHRIST! That will be just about enough of that! You didn’t clean up just to roll around in the dirt. Scotsmen! Hard headed, ridiculous, childlike, overgrown boys!  I am not going to referee while you all beat the snot out of each other. I won’t. I will leave and take the maps and money with me, just watch me.” Claire, clearly losing her own temper, said before she picked up her bag and a smaller leather looking one and crossed to the steps.

“I will give you five minutes to collect your things and come upstairs before I wash my hands of the lot of you and find my own way without you.”

The men all watched as she stomped up the stairs, still muttering under her breath.

“Nah, never happen. I know she wilna leave us. Try not to look so crestfallen Jamie. She’s just talking, like women do, ya ken?” Murtagh said while heading to his items and bundling them all back up.

Angus spit in Jamie’s general direction and winked at Dougal. “You reckon they all dress like that now?”

“I hope so lad, I most assuredly hope so.” Dougal went back to his own items and found the hat. Placing it on his head, he picked up his bundle and followed Claire. He had no doubt she would gladly leave them all behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Murtagh did not mind the clothes so much but was distinctly unhappy when Claire told them to hide all their weapons. “I willna.”

“You will unless you want to be arrested for menacing. Now come here and let me tie your tie.” She frowned at him and rearranged the collar and tiny buttons at the top of his shirt. “I’ll teach you how to do this yourself later. The guard should be back any moment. Tuck your hair up into your hat. Yes, like that.”

The sun was high enough for them to get a good look at their surroundings while they waited. It wasn’t long though before they saw him coming back to fetch them. Murtagh noticed Jamie rolling his sword into one of the bundles and handed his over, but he put his dirk back behind on his belt, under his jacket. “Just in case eh lad?”

“Right. I moved my dagger to my sock, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her or us.” Jamie said grinning at him.

Murtagh thought he still looked a bit sour, but knew that he would collect himself shortly into his normal demeanor. Jamie could be counted on in any number of ways, but what he admired most about his godson was his ability to hide what was going on in his mind and just get on with it. It took skill, that. It made him proud that he was so competent, so young, a fine braw lad.

“it will be a bit of a squeeze getting you all into the car, but I’ll think we’ll manage it.” The guard said pleasantly. “Mrs. Barnett’s BH is it? Father McDaniel sure knows how to pick ‘em, I’ll give him that.” He shook his head and started up the risers. “Come on, days a wasting and I have to get home to the Mrs. before she sends out a search party.”

Murtagh looked to Claire and raised a brow “Car?” he mouthed.

“I’m Claire Fraser. Thank you so much for helping us out Mr.?” she said while walking just behind the guard. She looked back at the men and placed a finger to her lips while shaking her head no.

“Oh, Tommy Flanigan, at your service, Ma’am. I’d do anything for the Priest, he’s that good a man.” He said as he tipped his hat to her. Murtagh liked that touch. He’d have to remember it.

They reached the top of the bowl and were walking back to the road when Claire said “what a lovely automobile Mr. Flanigan. What model is it?”

“It’s a Ford Model A. I’m right proud of it. You climb in the back with two of the fellas and I’ll make shift to get the other two up front with me. Plenty of room in the well for your bundles.”

Murtagh climbed in beside her while Jamie took the other side. Angus sat next to Tommy with Dougal half sideways trying to figure out how to shut the door again.  He wondered if the others felt as queasy as he did. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for protection, before studying Claire again to see what her reaction was to this car thing.

She was unfazed, of course. He had to admit to himself a growing attachment to her ever since the wedding. She had seemed strange to him more often than not, but now she seemed solid enough. He had made her Fae Folk in his own mind, or a Gypsy enchantress come to ensorcell them all. He knew she wasn’t, but some of that lingered. Now, Jamie was completely captured by her. With disgust, Murtagh realized the lad’s adoration was bleeding into his own veins. Only time would tell if they were all fools about who and what she was.

He would just have to wait it out. His job, as he saw it, was to protect Jamie. If she were to prove untrue or dangerous to his godson, he would do what needed to be done. There was no grey moral area for him about it. He didn’t think like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire was happy to have the time in the car to collect her thoughts and watch all their reactions as they took in the sights and sounds of this new world. She thought they were doing well, all things considered. They were maintaining their quiet, calm demeanors, even though they must be near to bursting with questions.

“Mr. Flanigan, we aren’t from here, as you have likely surmised. We are newly arrived from Scotland and don’t know much about this town, other than what we have seen in films and newsreels, could you tell us a bit about it as you drive us to the boarding house?” she asked from the back seat, while shifting her backside onto Jamie’s lap. Five minutes into the ride she knew she was going to be squashed half to death. Much more pleasant to feel his arms around her and rest back into his chest.

She had been surprised by her own reaction to seeing him in modern clothing. She would have thought she preferred him in Highlander garb. Not so. His long, lean, but well-muscled, frame was beautifully displayed in the navy-blue suit. It made him look older and somehow even more dangerous. The hat, a black felt fedora, was resting low on his forehead and his stunning blue eyes took on another hue because of it.

It shook her a bit. She had been attracted to him and his boyish charm, long before she married him, but even after she became familiar with the pleasures his nearness and flesh could bring, she had still thought him too young. Too unsettled. Too disposable if she had to be honest with herself. The only thing he seemed to have in common with Frank was an underlying note of well-hidden menace. Now, he did not seem immature, reckless or worth setting aside. How and when had that happened?

Was it possible that she was going to have to forget about Frank? Just let him go entirely? He was here, in this world, albeit younger, but why had she lost her ring in the transition this time? Did it mean she had somehow altered time? If she were to contact him, what could she possibly say? “Oh, sorry darling, been doing a bit of time traveling, you haven’t met me yet, but further down the road we will marry? Then I will leave you mysteriously?” It was ridiculous. Better to make a life here and now surely.

“Well, Hollywood is basically a company town Ma’am, part of greater Los Angeles of course. We have a little bit of everything here and we are proud of it. Just look at these buildings…” Tommy had been talking the whole time she had been thinking about her situation with Jamie and Frank. He was pointing to things outside the window and rambling on. The men seemed fascinated with everything he was saying and they were seeing. Her woolgathering hadn’t made a difference.

“Here we are, Mrs. Bartlett’s, you folks let Father McDaniel know I brought you right to the door mind.” He said as he pulled into the curb moments later, in front of a very large house. Victorian, painted a light blue with green and white trim, three stories tall above ground, with many architectural oddities, including a turret and a porthole window overlooking a small balcony. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, designed by the Brothers Grimm.

Jamie gave Claire a tight squeeze before he let her climb off and out of the car. “That certainly was an interesting ride and sensation Sassenach” he whispered in her ear as he let her go. She saw him give her a small lopsided grin and that slow blink of his that was supposed to mimic a wink before she turned to the driver and held out her hand to shake his. “Thank you ever so much. Do let us know if there is anything we can do for you to repay your kindness.”

“Ah, well, convince Mrs. Bartlett to have me over for supper one of these days. That will do the trick!” He waited as they collected their belongings and made their way up the front steps and across the large wraparound porch. “Be seeing ya!” he shouted and honked the horn twice before taking off in what she assumed was a hurry to get back to the wife.

The door opened almost immediately and a stout short woman, who reminded Claire of Mrs. Fitz oddly enough, came out. She was wearing a garishly flowered cotton house dress covered with a massive apron and curlers in her hair. She also had black socks on rolled down to her what appeared to be house slippers two sizes too big.

“Rhea Bartlett, pleased to meet you all. Follow me, but stomp the dust off your feet first! Just swept the rugs. Father McDaniel said you would be needing three rooms, and luckily, I have them. You two are married yes? Well you’ll have to push two singles together; the double isn’t available.  Two of you men are in the attic room and a single is next to the couple’s room. You’ll be responsible for keeping your own rooms clean and doing your own laundry. I only feed you at suppertime, 5:30 pm and I will not tolerate lateness. Nor will there be any special food orders. You’ll eat what I provide and like it. You may only smoke in the den or outside. I will also not tolerate drunken foolishness or late comings and goings at all hours of the night. You will pay your rent on time, or you will leave, posthaste. The bathroom you will all share is on the third floor as well and don’t be overflowing the tub. If Father McDaniel hadn’t vouched for you, you wouldn’t be here. I rarely take in strangers or actors. Don’t make me regret it.”

“No, Mrs. Bartlett, we wouldn’t think of it, I assure you.” Claire said giving her a most generous smile and nodding her head in agreement. She was having trouble not laughing at that torrent, and felt a bad case of the giggles coming on. Have mercy on us poor strangers in a strange land and Saints preserve us she thought as they arrived at her and Jamie’s room, controlling herself, but only just.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[poutypanic]

Finding Purpose Chapter 9

Rated Mature. Fem!Reader. 

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10529928/chapters/24994224

Chapter Summary: Ana and a large group of others go away on a mission. Leaving you and Hanzo, with a small group of others behind. There are some shenanigans and then, some stuff and things happen. Here's a hug (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃.

Fic Summary: You've been living alone in Hanamura for the past five years, and are content to stay that way. You have a troubled past and have let it isolate you. One night a ruckus is coming from the Shimada Castle. Against your better judgment you check it out, eventually, you end up befriending an archer with a past as equally troubling as yours.This is a romance/fluff and slow burn, coupled with action and angst.

The halls of the Watchpoint have been eerily quiet as of late. Most agents, save for a small group, are gone. Ana had insisted that taking more agents than necessary on their current mission could prove to be more of a weakness than a strength. Torbjorn had been one of the agents benched, but he joyfully informed everyone he will be using the time to go and visit his family. Satya also was left behind but be seems to be a person who values her alone time. You understand, so you don't bother her. McCree is also in the facility somewhere. Though he might have dipped out, as it’s been a few days since you last saw him.

It is a lovely day out. It’s the middle of fall, but the temperature is in the low sixties. The clouds keep the sun from being too harsh, and the air smells especially fresh today. Not that either you or Hanzo are paying any attention to the weather, because he’s been trying to teach you how to properly climb. Unfortunately for him, you’re not an easy student. You’ve spent a good portion of your morning using the rock climbing wall in the facility getting in practice for the real thing. Hanzo had been patient with you up until this particular moment. And even now he’s still showing a lot of restraint.

Hanzo had found a section of the facility that’s made up of different materials than the other sides. It’s got plenty of places for grip and is similar to the rock climbing wall. Before Hanzo had climbed up onto the roof, he had laid out a path for you that in his opinion is “child's play.” Now he’s on the roof looking down at you refusing to follow him up there.

“Climbing is an essential skill!”

“You’re the archer here. You gain the advantage from being up high. What do I gain from being up that high? It’s not essential for me to learn to climb.”

Hanzo looks like he’s just heard the dumbest series of sentences. He takes caution before saying anything else at the risk of coming off arrogant, “You gain safety by being up high. From enemies, such as yourself, who would be able to kill you easily on the ground. That...is what you gain.”

“Hmm, you make a good argument!”

He points to the top of the roof, “Get. Up. Here!”

“But I don’t wanna; I’m just gonna fall.”

“You will not fall. If you do this…” He sighs, “I will reward you.”

You gasp and place a hand on your chest, “Really now?”

He nods and gives you a sly smile.

You shrug, “You’d let me have it either way.”

“Do not test me!”

There’s movement on the other side of the building that catches your eye. You instantly start to cackle when you see it’s McCree, leaning around the corner, a cigarillo in his mouth, and a silly grin on his face.

“Y’all have some real odd foreplay.” He steps out from behind the wall, looks up towards Hanzo, and then back to you, “Stop bein’ a chicken. If I were you, I’d already be up there.”

“Damn, you’re right,” you say loud enough that McCree can hear you, but low enough that Hanzo can’t.  

McCree chuckles at your friendly response. You shake out your nervousness, clap your hands together, and wink at Hanzo. Hanzo thinks that is the most ridiculous sight. He’s trying to be serious with you right now, but a deep belly laugh is threatening to make him break. So he says, “Do. Not. Wink at me!”

You nearly get yourself onto the wall but wuss out at the last second. You groan, “I’m sorry!”

“There are no prizes for holding back!”

McCree is having a delightful time and thinks this is the most entertaining thing he’s seen all week. He bends over placing his elbow on his knees, the cigarillo still dangling out of his mouth, and it doesn’t look like it’s lit anymore.

He slaps his knees once and says, “Get’cher ass up there!”

Once you finally get yourself going, it’s easy. You’re currently in the best physical condition you’ve ever been in your life, and Hanzo is an excellent trainer. You make it up and over with no slip ups. McCree hoots and claps for you, and Hanzo claps along with him. Hanzo’s got a big smile for you, and that alone is well worth the climb.

“Sublime!”

McCree calls up to you guys, “Y’all have fun now!”

You try to reach out to Hanzo. You had sweet intentions, and a simple hug would have sufficed. But apparently, he was being serious about your reward. He grabs a hold of your wrist and uses it to flip you around. Hanzo presses his whole body against yours. While he’s holding your arm against your stomach, his other hand glides down into your needy space. There he massages moans and whines from you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck as he whispers, “See? That wasn't so hard, was it?”

You grind your butt against his crotch and chuckle, “No. But something else is.”

~

You and Hanzo have been taking full advantage of having the Watchpoint nearly all to yourselves. While one of the implications of that is obvious, the other one includes getting drunk and hanging out in the mess hall. Sitting on top of the tables, eating stupid amounts of food, and playing a virtual game of chess. His tablet is sitting between the two of you, and a neat looking interactive hologram shines about a foot above it.

You’re heckling him, and you think you’re being real funny.

“Oh, no, thats’ a bad move! You shoud'n do that move, 'cause its’ a bad.”

Unlike the last time you were drunk, this time, Hanzo is on your level. He stops what he’s doing to laugh silently.

“Stop—“ When Hanzo is drunk he doesn't slur. What he does is pause and then restart again. The pausing happening more often than the restarting. “Stop— trying, to— you will not get in my head.”

“Baby, I already there. I’m jus’ doin’ you a favor. You’can mess it up if you wanna, go right ahead!”

He hangs his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking from laughter. “I—I, am, not, taking advice from, a person, who is losing.”

“Am I losin’?” You say with exaggerated disbelief.

“Yes!”

You shrug your shoulders, “Fine! Be my guest, I’d love teh’ see ya’ do a dumb move so, entertain me, go a-head, you have my permission.”

“Does your permission, include silence—long enough for me to do, anything?”

“I thought you said you weren’ lettin’ me in your head!”

“I would not be, if you, were, not—such, a heathen!”

You lay back onto the table, laughing and holding onto your side. You couldn’t care less about the chess game. Hanzo doesn’t care either, but he does enjoy playfully arguing with you.

“You’know that's probly’ hurtful!”

The chess game never does get a victor. It’s easily forgotten, and you end up with your head lazily resting against his shoulder. You might be ready to pass out, but you’re enjoying the sight of the dragons and the pup playing far too much to close your eyes just yet. Right now, even the stern one is jumping around, chirping, and having a grand ol’ time.

You muse, “It feels really nice teh’ see that one hav’in fun.”

Hanzo is engrossed in something on his tablet. He puts it down, so he can look at what you’re talking about. When he does, you just happen to see that he is sending a message to Genji.

“Oh, no, no, no!”

You snatch the tablet and lift your butt up, so you can sit on it. It takes far too many moments for Hanzo to even process what happened. After a couple of false started sentences, he manages to get out, “Give, it back.”

“M’ not gonna let you send any sad, ass, drunk messages to ya’ brother, its’ not happen.”

He gently pats your cheek, “You are, talking, like an idiot.”

You cackle, “Ive’ been talkin’ like n’ idiot this whole time! You now only jus’ noticed!”    

Hanzo rests his forehead against your temple, “It is, not sad— you can read it, and approve of it, if you wish.”

You do wish, as you don’t believe him. So you pull the tablet out and look the message over. He wasn’t lying to you. Nothing about the message is sad. Nonsensical? A ramble with good grammar? Yes, but not sad. You approve of the message and let him send it. Genji will no doubt have fun with that one. Hell, he might even love it.

Hanzo hiccups so harshly that he as to clutch his chest and groans. “Oh, I think it, might be time to go to bed.”

~

Another day goes by, and the night comes around. Initially, Hanzo had gone to bed with you. One of the things Angela has taught you is that routine is essential for a healthy sleep schedule. And one of the things that has always been consistent is Hanzo. So when he leaves the bed, it doesn't take long for your body and mind to notice, and consequentially you wake up.

At first, you are so sleep-ridden that you don’t notice why you woke. But then you feel a familiar cold sensation against your back, and your interest is peaked. You look behind you to see the still nameless, stern dragon staring you down. Your immediate reaction is to look around the room for Hanzo, who is nowhere to be found. Your heart starts to race, because something feels off.

You sit up and look the dragon right in the face, “Please take me to him.”

The dragon lets off a soft chirp and nods. It leaps off the bed and leads you out of the room. It gingerly trots down the halls, stopping every once in a while to make sure you are still following. Eventually, the dragon leads you into the briefing room, where Hanzo is sitting at a computer terminal. You softly say his name, and when he looks back at you, he doesn’t look guilty or shocked that you’ve stumbled upon him. Hanzo knew that the dragon would lead you here. In fact, he is grateful that it happened sooner than later. He needs your advice on something that is of great importance to him.

“I would like to preface with, this might sound… ludicrous.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“I am trying to find Genji’s location.” You nod, and he continues, “I think he might be in trouble. I have no tangible evidence. Other than...he has not communicated with me since last night. This is mostly based off of a feeling, but it is a strong one.”

He stops and looks at you waiting for your input, “Okay. So what are we doing about it?”

The only way to explain the expression on his face is that it is one of pure admiration and gratitude. He looks back towards the computer, “Do you know anything about hacking? I am not having much luck.”

You don’t, but you’ll try your hardest. “Move over.”

While you are trying to hack into the mission files, a familiar voice breaks through the concentration.

“What the hell are y’all doin’? Y’all were loud as hell last night, and now ur’ in here doin’ god knows what! What the fuck is goin’ on in here?”

You don’t know it yet, but McCree is wide awake for very similar reasons. The exact same reasons, in fact. McCree, who also communicates with Genji every single day, hasn’t heard from him, and it’s keeping him awake. Hanzo’s feelings must be severe, because he doesn't waste any time letting McCree know the exact truth, unafraid of any judgment.

McCree actually stumbles back, shocked that Hanzo is putting into words exactly what he is worried about, “I know where he’s at.”

Hanzo shoots up out of his seat, “Tell me!”

“I will, but I’m comin’ with you guys. You can’t stop me.”

“I was not going to try to.”

Neither were you. McCree lets the both of you know where Genji is at, and why he is there. You’d question why McCree knows so much and whether he’s actually supposed to know these things, but neither answer would really matter. Genji and Zenyatta have been tasked with “curing” some feral omnics. There is a wear house full of the things.

They all got inflicted with a nasty virus during the war, as a means to turn them against their own allies. They’re all wound up tighter than a spring and ready to tear anything apart that dares cross their path. Genji and Zenyatta have been tirelessly trying to figure out a solution to the problem that doesn't include putting them out of commission. The last time McCree heard it wasn’t going well, and was reaching a point where they’d need to make a hard decision.

The three of you are going to be in big trouble, not that even one of you is worried about this fact. McCree knows how to fly, so you borrow a aircraft and make your way out in the dead of night. Absolutely no one's permission was asked to do this. Ana, and the others, will all be coming back by early evening, and there is no way in hell you guys will make it back in time for Ana to not know that you left. It doesn't matter, however, because you’re all more than willing to deal with the consequences.

With such a high-tech plane at hand, you guys arrive at your destination in little over an hour. McCree lands the plane a safe distance away from the warehouse, and it only takes about fifteen minutes to get there on foot.

You guys stop just short of the facility and duck behind some bushes. You’ve got your harness and are ready to release the bots, so you do. You’re gawking at the warehouse, because it looks like it came right out of a horror movie. It’s dismal, run-down, and looks haunted.

Momentarily, you split up so you guys can find the best way into the building faster. The building is oddly structured. You find yourself at a wall that leads up to a ledge with a heavy duty sliding metal door, so you make your way up it.

“Hey guys, I found an entrance. I’ll see if it goes anywhere useful real quick. Northwest side of the building, make sure to look up.”

Hanzo, “On my way.”

McCree, “Y’all I think I might’ve found Zen. Not too sure, I’ma investigate.”

“Copy that.”

The door is open, but not by a lot. You can shimmy your way through it and see where it goes. But with your harness on, you won't fit. So you take it off and hold it in front of you as you shimmy your way through the small space. Not only is the door tall, but it turns out it’s extremely thick. When you’re about halfway through, you remember, and chastise yourself, for telling two broad-shouldered dudes to come here, to a space they clearly won't fit through. Still, you continue. Maybe it’s a door you can get to open up more.

As you get closer to what seems to be the end, it gets darker and darker. This is a foolish mistake, but at the end, you throw the harness, just so you can have a little more freedom of movement. You think it will be easy to get it back, but it won’t be. When the harness hits the floor you hear many loud hisses of hostility towards it. This makes you pause for a lengthy amount of time. Whatever is making that noise doesn't sound in any way friendly or like anything you want to deal with.

You’re not going to have a choice in the matter. One misplaced step sends you tumbling onto an unforgiving concrete floor. The things that hissed at the harness are now hissing at you. You remain as still as possible, every muscle in your body cramping up with fear. Lucky for you, the things that are surrounding you on all sides go back to their neutral state.

It takes you nearly fifteen minutes to stand up. Hanzo is sounding off in your ear, letting you know that he is here, but cannot get through the space, just as you had thought. However, you’re too afraid to speak, thinking that any noise is going to set off the things around you. The bots have provided you with a helpful night vision. And you can see that you are standing amongst the hundreds of feral omnics that Genji and Zenyatta have been trying to help.

You don’t know what the hell you are supposed to do next. Hanzo is desperately trying to get you to talk to him. It’s breaking your heart, but you are still so scared. Then things get worse. Much, much worse. An all too familiar black smoke catches your eye.

Stress tears start to form in your eyes. If the Reaper is here, then you are fucked. How are you supposed to deal with him and hundreds of feral omnics? The Reaper ghosts behind you and wraps a tentacle of smoke around your neck. An overwhelming feeling of bile bubbles up in your belly. The Reaper isn’t trying to kill you. That’s not how he wants it to happen, as he’s got bigger, more creative plans for that.

He whispers into your ear, “I think friendly fire is one of the most tragic ways to go, don’t you think?”

He hums in your ear, and it makes you feel even sicker. Then he leaves. Just like that, he goes. Doesn't do a thing to you. Leaving you to contemplate what the fuck he was talking about.

Suddenly a bright light shines from above, and the omnics are not happy about this at all. It's coming from yet another door that is placed unreasonably high up. How is anyone expected to be able to leave this room? Maybe that’s the point of its design, nobody is supposed to be able to leave. You look up to see an unfamiliar woman. She’s got Genji hooked under her arms, and she’s getting ready to drop him amidst all the beings he’s been trying to help.

She lets him fall hard onto the floor, and he hits with a loud reverberating smack. That’s enough to give you the nerve you need to speak up. Your voice is quiet, so quiet you’re surprised either of them can hear you.

“Genji is here. He’s here, he’s hurt, and we’re in trouble.”

Hanzo sighs heavily, “I will find a different way in.”

You would have liked to tell him good luck, but as the very first syllable comes out of your mouth, an omnic snaps it’s attention to you, stealing away any other words you have for Hanzo.

Genji is horribly mangled. Large parts of him are missing. An arm and a leg are just gone. The woman then throws a katana down after him, and it drops onto the floor just shy of Genji’s face. The omnics are starting to lose it. With the light, you can see clearly that they are caked over with rust and dirt. They are so dirty that they look nearly pitch black and look a hell of a lot like you.  

It instantly clicks that this is extremely bad for you. You get yourself moving, taking extremely careful steps, making sure you don’t disturb any of the omnics. You’re going to have to chance talking loud enough, so that Genji can hear you. He needs to know that you're here. Just as you are about to call out to Genji, a loud blaring noise sounds off. It sends the omnics into absolute madness, and the only clear target they have to throw their aggression at is Genji, who is still illuminated by the cruel and harsh light. You know he can’t hear you, but still, you call out his name.

As the omnics advance on him, you try your damnedest to make your way through the fray. But the more you push and shove, the more they realize that you, too, are a threat to them. So they start to tug and pull at your limbs, hell bent on tearing you apart, and God does it hurt. They are much stronger than you'd ever hope to be, and no matter how much you use your close quarters' skills to try and get away from them, nothing works. When you get one off of you, another is latching on. You narrowly avoid getting your arms and legs pulled from their sockets.

You look to Genij, who is now desperately trying to reach for his sword, but he can’t get to it. Several of the omnics have reached him and are trying to do the same thing to him that they are doing to you. With the katana still laying out of reach, you watch as an enormous dragon pulls itself from it. Brilliant, just as breathtaking and magnificent as Hanzo’s on the beach. But this one is a bright green color that is nearly blinding in such a closed space. Every omnic that it tears its way through, melts and sizzles, all of their wires and parts liquefying into terrifying pools on the ground.

Due to the loud and powerful dragon that is careening its way towards them, the omnics let you go, now focused on something much more threatening than you are. It dawns on you in a terrible wave of terror that you’re not going to be spared its wrath. This is exactly what the Reaper wants. It would seem he’d like you all to die in the most heart-wrenching ways possible. You take this opportunity to do the only thing that might save your life, you run. This dragon doesn't know you, and as it's decimating the omnics, it’s obvious that your bots have no chance at protecting you from it.

The loud blaring noise that sent the omnics into their extreme aggression has ceased. Now you are left with the unrelenting roaring of a dragon who will do anything to protect its master, and the mad screeching of hundreds of livid, dying omnics.

You find yourself down a hall, pushing yourself past even more of the omnics. This hall has an end, with a wall that is smooth and unclimbable. The roaring continues and will reach you soon. With your back pressed up against the dead end, the bots make a last ditch attempt to save your life. They retreat, faster than they ever have before. They think that perhaps if the dragon can see that you are human, it will let you live.

Hot tears run down your face. You don’t want to die, but it seems you're not going to have a choice in the matter. You slide down the smooth surface and close your eyes tight, preparing yourself for immense pain. The powerful roar is overwhelming now, so loud you think your ears might start to bleed. The creature is merely a couple of feet away from you now. That cliche notion that life flashes before your eyes before you die? It’s true.

Your world falls into deafening silence, and for a moment you think you must be in the afterlife. But once the blood starts to clear from your ears, you realize you can still feel your heart beating.

Chirp! Chirp!

Your whole entire body is shaking, and you can’t believe what you are hearing.

Chirp! Chirp!

You’re too afraid to open your eyes. Like perhaps you might be in a suspended state, and the enormous deadly creature is still getting ready to melt the flesh from your body.

Chirp! Chirp!

You managed to peel your eyes open. Sitting there, slamming its tail against the floor in a fervent fashion, is a medium, dog-sized dragon, with the same friendly demeanor as the ones you are more familiar with. Except this one is desperately trying to get you to follow it. When it sees that it has your attention it starts to jump around, slamming its front paws into the ground, and starts to chirp incessantly.

It’s obvious what it’s trying to get you to do. The problem is you can’t feel your body at the moment. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, all while the creature is still yelling at you. Hanzo and McCree have been talking to you this whole entire time and still are. It’s only now that your psyche has let their voices register again.

McCree, “Come on now friend, you gotta talk to us! Ya’ better not do this shit.”

Your throat is dry, making you sound hoarse, “I’m not dead."

Hanzo is trying his best not to be upset, but you can still hear in his voice that he is angry. You understand; he’s allowed to be, “Was that a dragon?”

Oh, so they could hear the carnage. “Yes, it was,” you refrain from telling him how close you came to being a victim of the dragon's wrath. “I think we’re safe for right now. I’ll figure out a way out of here. McCree, did you find Zenyatta?”

McCree, “Yeah I found the Zen. He ain’t in good shape neither. Gonna need lots’a new parts.”

The first time you get up, you fall right back onto the floor. Your legs feel like shaky jello. The dragon hops around you, unrelenting in its pursuit to try and get you to follow it. The second time you get up, you manage to stay on your feet. As you follow the dragon, it stops several times to make sure you aren't going to walk over any of the piles of goo on the floor. It wants you to follow its exact path.

You do. You let it guide you to exactly where you need to be. As you approach Genji, he is slumped against the wall, his head rolled over to the side.

Hanzo sounds winded, and is that pain in his voice? “I am having setbacks, I will be there shortly.”

“Hanzo just take care of yourself. We’re not in danger anymore. We’ll manage, just meet us back at the aircraft.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

Every time the comm would buzz, you could hear gun shots. The Reaper and that woman must be giving him hell. The dragon takes a seat next to its master and cocks its head from side to the side. You kneel down in front of him, “Genji? Hey bud, you awake?”

You need him to be awake. He’s still got one good leg, and that’ll be enough to help you get him the hell out of here. His eyes flutter open, and the man smiles.

“I sure hope I am not dead. It would be tragic if you’re here too.”

Ridiculous, “This look like the afterlife to you?”

He shrugs, “Only the dead know what it really looks like.”

“Alright, Plato, you’re not dead okay?”

“Ah, happy to hear it.”

“You ready to get the hell outa dodge?”

“Yes, but my friend—.”

“Zenyatta? The cowboy already got him. We’re good to go.”

Genji chuckles, “Alright, then. Let's get out of here.”

Before you help him up, you ask him, “Are you in any pain?”

“No. My mind is weary, and so is my soul, but I am not in pain.”

You actually have no idea how to get out of this room. Your mind snaps back to how you told Hanzo you didn't need any help. Why the hell did you do that? Lucky for you, the dragon has got it handled. It’s chirping and hopping in a corner of the room. Before getting Genji, you check what it's trying to point out to you.

The dragon is showing you a vent. It's low to the ground and rusted over, but you’re able to kick it in with little effort. It's not exactly big, but you’ll both manage. You let Hanzo know that it might take a while for you guys to make it out of the building, because Genji can only move so fast right now.

As you’re helping Genji get to where he needs to be, you can see the look on his face shift as he takes in the hundreds of piles of what used to be the feral omnics. You can only imagine how he must be feeling. Seeing all of the things he had been trying to save, ruined, by his own dragon. You’d try and make him feel better about it. It’s not his fault; it’s the Reapers, but now's really not the time. And you’re not the right person for that job, anyway.

Getting through the vent is nearly comical. Actually, it is. You knock your head against all four sides trying to look back to see how Genji is fairing. And Genji is not fairing well, because only one of his arms is fully functional, while the other is barely helpful. Every once in a while Hanzo will ask, in a shockingly mellow tone, for a status update, and you always simply state, “Still in the vent.”

Then you have the brilliant idea that if you shimmied ahead a little bit, he could reach out, grab your ankle, and pull himself forward. Without any grip for you to hang on to, what happened instead, is that he just ended up pulling you back. So you're back where you started, and he didn’t move an inch. It feels like it takes an hour to finally make it out the other side. In reality, it only took twenty minutes, but still, that's a long time.

Hanzo, “The Reaper, and the sniper have retreated. Still, take caution when getting to the aircraft.”

“Got it. We’re finally out of the vent and on our way.”

You both make it back safely. As you approach, Hanzo is standing in the open hangar, on high alert, bow in hand, and an arrow ready. When he sees you, he throws the bow onto the ground and helps you get Genji into the craft faster. McCree is looming over an omnic you are assuming to be Zenyatta. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d need new parts, and he doesn’t seem to be conscious.  

When McCree looks back to see Genji his eyes light up with an assortment of emotions. God, he is happy to see him, but he’s also fighting heavy sorrow, due to the terrible shape he is in. When you set Genji down, McCree is already at his side, “Hey partner, what’n the hell you get yourself into huh?”

Hanzo’s attention is fixed on Genji. Seeing him in person again after so long, and in such dismal conditions, seems to be taking a toll. Except, there is something more there in his facial expression that makes your stomach drop.

“Han? Are you okay?”

He nods.

That a lie, and you know it. “Jesse, I’m really not trying to be insensitive, but we need to get going.”

“Na, your’ right. We’ll have plenty’a time to caught up once wer' safe.”

You don’t see Jesse give Genji a quick kiss on the forehead, before he hops up to go get the aircraft going. You’re too focused on Hanzo, quickly inspecting him for the cause of the ill look. It doesn't take you long to find it: a deep dark red spot that runs down the length of his clothes on his right side. You place a hand on his chest as you lift up the cloth to reveal a bullet wound.

“Oh, my—Hanzo! Sit down, right now!” You help guide him onto the floor, you’re suddenly very upset with him, “What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you not tell me you got shot.” With more quiet volition, “Why would you keep this from us?”

No answer.  

Genji tries to get up, but can’t. “Where brother?”

Hanzo doesn't answer, so you answer for him, “His back, close to his lungs.”

You leave Hanzo sitting on the ground to go find medical supplies. He must be in shock, has to be in shock, there’s no way he would deliberately hide such a life-threatening wound on purpose. You’re in denial, and refuse to believe that. It hurts too much to think so. You’re going to have to deal with the truth of the matter later.

As you’re gathering heaps of gauze, and dressings you tell Jesse, “Hey we need to get in contact with Ana, let her know Hanzo’s hurt so Dr. Zeigler can—“

“Already did friend, she’s been tryna’ get ahold of us this whole time, she got notified the moment we took the aircraft fer'a joy ride. We’re in for one hell’of’a tongue lashin’.”

You don’t give a fuck about getting chewed out right now. All you want to know is that someone will be there to help Hanzo at the base. Hanzo’s finally taken some initiative, he’s removed his sleeve before you got back, so that you have clear access to his wound. Your heart is racing. To the eye, it doesn't look all that bad. But this is bringing you back to that truck bed with the little boy you couldn’t save. As always there is only so much you can do, and right now all you can do is dress his wound and apply pressure to keep it from bleeding any more than it already has.

If he’s got an injury on the inside, like a damaged organ, or internal bleeding; then you can’t, you wouldn’t be able to…

You rest your forehead up against his shoulder blade, and shut your eyes tight. Your heart is breaking, and you’re trying to keep yourself from being angry. Your eyes are threatening to let the tears fall again. You’ve got your palm firmly pressed against the wound. If Hanzo’s in pain he’s not letting it show. You’ll keep the pressure as long as you have to.

Your left leg is thrown out next to him, Hanzo places a hand on your knee, his grip isn't strong, but it’s still enough to help you believe that he’s going to be okay.

Genji says your name, “Has my brother ever told you any stories about our childhood?”

“A few.” Your words have an unwanted crack in them, but it was all that you could manage.

“Hmpf! Let me tell you about this one time, when we were very young; Hanzo? You must have been, ten? Me, seven? Surely you remember the time—” Genji has a hard time telling the story, because he has to stop to laugh between segments, “We were watching a movie in a theatre, and Hanzo, you, you— you burped so loud that the lady— the lady in front of us,” Genji says your name to ensure that you are still listening. “I am telling you, the lady in front of us smacked her husband on the back of the head so hard, he lifted up out of his seat, cause she thought it came from him!”

Hanzo finishes with, “They got into such a heated argument they had to leave, heh.”

Jesse chimes in, “How come ya’ never told me that one Genji?”

“Some stories are best told with the person they happened with.”

Hanzo laughs weakly, “We had far too much soda that day.”

“Well, it was the appropriate amount for two kids who were having a burping contest, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

“Fortunately for our own entertainment, some of it chose to stick with you, unfortunate, for that man and his wife.”

Nobody in this aircraft is in a good place. Some are worried, while others are torn apart or hurt. Genji insists on telling more stories, and you are grateful. You understand what he’s doing, and will have to remember to thank him later. Getting back to the Watchpoint is easy. Everyone is already back, and Ana is waiting for you guys in the hangar.  

The doctor gets straight to work on helping Hanzo. Genji and Zenyatta are crippled but they will survive without immediate help, Hanzo will not. She is appalled by the number of people who are in her infirmary, and only allows a couple people to stay to assist. You are vehemently told you will not be one of them. At least before you leave she tries to assure you that Hanzo will be okay, it could have been far worse. You believe her, but it doesn't make you feel any better.

Ana gives those who are able to listen to her a tongue lashing like you’ve never received before. You could push back on her words. There are plenty of reasons why you guys were justified in leaving, but really you don't have the energy, or the gusto to argue back. All of your brain power is so caught up in stressing over Hanzo, that it doesn’t even hurt that she’s pissed. In fact, it’s a welcome distraction

[arthurtristankingsmen]

Off the Bat

providentially-demonic submitted:

A short Harry Potter/MSA AU for you!

They had pooled their money, counting Galleons and Knuts and Sickles to be sure they had enough, though Lewis had assured her that if they came up short, his folks would be more than willing to help out. Vivi was determined they could afford it on their own. Arthur deserved the very best and if she had to shell out every single bronze Knut she had, she would get it for him, she’d declared defiantly.

It had taken some time to get away from Lewis’s parents, the Pepper’s considering the three of them under their guardianship during the shopping trip to Nation Alley, just off of the Bloody Angle, through the back wall of an old Chinese Laundry. It was Vivi’s third trip, Lewis’s second and Arthur’s first. Arthur had been unnerved and had clung to the back of Lewis’s shirt until Mama had taken his hand, leading him through the wall of moving machinery into the wonders of Nation Alley. America had all sorts of immigrants, not all of them of the muggle kind, evidenced by the centaur in a plaid shirt with a handcart, selling enchanted arrows. His thick greek accent stood out clearly over the babble. Brightly colored pigeons darted back and forth between buildings, like feathery fireworks. A witch on a battered Nimbus was trying to get a mangy tabby off of an awning, cursing in something that sounded like Chinese. A woman whose outfit seemed to consist of nothing but layers of colorful scarves that moved in an unseen wind held court at a sidewalk cafe table, attended by dozens of varied Kneazles, who watched everyone with intelligent eyes.

Arthur stayed attached Lewis’s mother, taking in everything but saying nothing, his amber eyes wide as saucers. Their first stop had been for new robes, Arthur’s old ones far too short and shabby now, and the old ones of Lewis’s getting shorter. Arthur was hitting a growth spurt and was already several inches taller than Lewis, and Mama had insisted with the winter quarter coming up, he needed ones that actually reached his ankles.

While he was being measured by the fussy seamstress and her assistant who looked suspiciously like a Brownie, Vivi had pulled Lewis away and they had snuck out of the shop. Vivi had unerringly lead the way to a brightly painted shop with a elegant sign depicting a white owl perched on the horn of a dainty unicorn. “Flit’s Fair Familiars” scrolled in looping letters under the hooves of the unicorn.

Lewis looked dubiously at the sign… “Can Unicorns be familiars?”

Vivi elbowed him sharply. “Does it matter?” She headed for the door.

Lewis followed her, but not without one last sideways look at the sign. “Kinda, yeah?”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Hurry up. We don’t have much time before they notice we’re gone.”

“Can I get some owl treats while we’re here?”

Vivi pulled him away from the rack and past a basket of humming puffskeins. “Depends on how much this will cost first.”

Lewis followed her tugs to a darkened corner of the store, where she peered at a cluster of brown bats hanging from a rafter.

Lewis squinted. In all honesty, he didn’t think they looked anywhere near as cute as Page had, but he agreed with Vivi, Arthur needed a familiar, and one with a longer life expectancy than a rat. He’d wanted to get an owl, like his sweet little Poblano, but Vivi had pointed out that with his propensity for rats, mice and other rodentia, Arthur would not care much for a creature that made meals of them. Lewis frowned and backed up a step, hoping a change in perspective would make them look somehow more appealing.

He bumped into something solid and warm. “Now, what would the two a’you be doin’ in here without a keeper, eh?”

Vivi yipped and jumped a foot in the air. She whirled. “Professor Calder!”

Professor Calder regarded them both down the length of his nose. He’d forgone his robes and was dressed in a charcoal-gray cable-knit sweater over blue jeans, His black dress shoes contrasted sharply with the casual look of his attire. His long black hair was pulled back in a neat queue, unlike the usual braid. He tipped his head to one side, the corner of his mouth pulling down in a frown. “Well, I’m waitin’ for an answer.”

Lewis bit his lip, trying not to shrink back behind Vivi. He really didn’t want to get in trouble with Mama. and he just knew the Professor would remember this when classes started after break. “Um, I— um— I need— needed s-some owl treats f-for Poblano,” he stammered uncomfortably.

Vivi sighed and reached back to thump his shoulder. “You can’t lie for beans, Lew.” She squared her shoulders and looked up at the much taller man, meeting his green eyes squarely. “We want to buy a new familiar for Arthur. He’s been really down since— since Page died.”

Calder’s stern expression softened. Arthur had holed up in the classroom several times after the rat’s death, despondent, and Calder had helped the three of them chose a final resting place for the much-beloved creature, helping a crying Arthur make a headstone for the makeshift gravesite. “Ah. Dontcha think Arthur should have some say in this?”

Lewis started to nod, but Vivi shook her head fiercely. “No. It has to be a surprise, because if he tries to help us choose, he’ll start thinking of Page again and be sad. I want him to be happy again. And it has to be something that lives a lot longer than a rat. I can’t see him go through this again in just a few years.” She looked defiant, but her hands were shaking. She knew how much trouble they would be in if Calder took it upon himself to take them back the Pepper’s.

Calder’s shrewd gaze slid over the cluster of bats in their roost. “You were thinkin’ a bat then? Knowin’ the lad’s got a soft spot the size of an ocean for squeakers.” He reached up and scratched one of the tiny bats under the chin.

Vivi’s shoulders relaxed and she heaved a sigh. “I read up on them, They live between twenty and thirty years in the wild, and wizard-breds always live longer than no-maj kinds. And they look cute, which he’d like.”

Calder laughed, a rolling sound of amusement, startling the bat he was petting. “Clever Vivi, always readin’ up. Careful, lass, if you’re not careful, folks’ll start thinkin’ you’re in the wrong house.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the proprietor, “Bundle my order, then, there’s a love, Aislin—  and have it sent on up to the school. Charge my classroom account and keep a couple o’sickle’s back for each of the courier owls. They’ll ha’e earned it.” He waved at the young woman behind the counter and turned to the door. “You two come with me.”

The two students warily followed him across the cobbled street to Porlock’s Potables, a wooden building that smelled of fresh hay. He grinned at the serving girl and ordered two warmed butterbeers and “A glass of the usual, love.”

He ushered Vivi and Lewis into a booth in the back corner and sat across from them. “So you were thinkin’ a bat— did you have any ideas on what kind?

Lewis hunched his shoulders and cupped his hands around the warmed mug the serving girl set in front of him. “Something big and clever. It need to be to carry things.”

“An’ t’stay safe from the school owls, eh? Good thought, lad.” Calder tossed back his glass of something dark and potent-smelling before pulling a small mirror from his back pocket. “I might be able to help with that. Ptero, answer your mirror, wouldya?”

A lean, tanned face appeared in the mirror, large glasses giving brown eyes an owlish look. “Ello, mate. What ya needing today? I just—”

Calder laughed and waved a hand. “Nothin’ for me, friend, but I ha’e a couple of friends here lookin’ for a bat for their friend. Needs to be fairly large, so the owls hereabouts don’t think lunch. Any recommendations?”

“Course! I have some flying foxes I been breeding for the local nightwatch witches, lovelies one and all, and I ain’t just talking about the bats.” The face on the mirror offered a broad wink.

“Spare me talk of that. You think one of them might do?”

“Oh, better even. My roosts are smart as whips and clever as Kneazles with their wing-claws. I got a couple rares that the watch canna use. Too noticeable-like and easy as one-two-three to spot on a dark night, so’s the witches can’t use them.”

“Rares? There somethin’ wrong with ‘em, Ptero?” Calder leaned forward, his easygoing smile slipping away. “You wouldna be tryin’ to pawn a sick beastie off on me students, wouldya?”

Ptero paled under his tan. “No, all my roosts are healthy as can be. I have them checked monthly by the local wizarding council. No, I got me a couple of piebalds. One of my roosts threw a couple of pups with leucism. Whiter than white with black mottling. Smart as or smarter than their roostmates and in good health, I swear, just too easily seen for nightwatch. But that wouldn’t be a bit of a problem for a student, now would it?”

“Can we see one?” Vivi demanded, up on her knees in the booth so she could see the mirror.

Ptero nodded and stepped out of range of the mirror, though his voice still came through. “Here now, spotty-gal, might have a place for you after all.”

He came back into sight with a bat the size of a small cat clinging to his shoulder. He hadn’t lied, it was mostly white with black patches on its thin wings and a small patch like a cap on its white head. It had bright intelligent eyes and squeaked softly at them through the mirror. “She’ll be getting a bit bigger, she’s not quite weaned yet.” Ptero added, scratching the white chin inil the bat went all but cross-eyed with bliss.

Vivi was instantly in love, Lewis could tell by her expression. “She’s perfect. How much?”

Ptero looked crafty for a moment until Calder cleared his throat. “Um, for you nine Galleons and seven Sickles; that’s at cost. Course there’s still the matter of getting her from here to there. Shipping costs, even by floo network.”

Before Vivi could look sick at that, Calder waved a hand. “I’ll worry about transport for her.”

Lewis spilled out their money pouch and was counting out coins with care, one at a time. It took nearly everything they had managed to save, but they had enough.

Calder watched him count and nodded to Ptero. “We’ll be takin’ her then. I’ll contact you with details later.” He tapped the frame of the mirror and it went dark.

Vivi squealed and hugged Lewis and then, to Professor Calder’s surprise, attacked him with a hug as well. He tossed his head up like a startled horse but warily patted her on the back.

“Alright, then. You two should be gettin’ back. I’ll send an owl with pick-up details. I should like to be there when you give her to the lad, though.”

Lewis nodded and handed him the money before grabbing Vivi’s hand and hauling out of there. He hoped Mama hadn’t missed them yet!

“Lewis Pepper!”

Oh no.

[th3dog101]

My pup doin’ a wink and a smile!

My pup doin’ a wink and a smile!