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alittlebirb · 2 years ago

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Some incomprehensible choices of fate from the MCC 25 Pink Parrots!

Wilbur streaming from a warehouse loading bay. The acoustics in the loading bay are atrocious. He lives here now.

The skins! Socket eyes for everyone! They look adorable! (aside from Wilbur)

"Your accent is silly." -Wilbur to Scott, preceding a straight up 30 second long argument over how to pronounce "Grian"

"You are a ridiculous gentleman." -Wilbur

Connor joining to sports vet the players and make sure Scott isn't cheating

Wilbur proposing Connor bet money on him placing 40th

"Are you going to be weak to my shenanigans?" -Wilbur after Grian tells him he's "a tired boy", followed by ABSOLUTE GLEE when Grian elaborates that he might cross the threshold to "silly tired"

Scott asking if looking at Punz in a crop top would push him over the threshold, and Grian snapping back "I think that would wake me up."

"He's always right-back-ing, that guy." -Wilbur about Grian

Wilbur deciding not to vote because "you can't force fate", and Scott and Grian threateningly surrounding him with their vacant socket eyes

"The downfall of humanity happened when we decided we should be influenced by the things we create!" -Wilbur, going on an unhinged yet beautiful rant about THE SYSTEM and EGGS

"I'm going to be the healer, because I'm gay." -Scott

"That's not true! I play healer in WOW all the time, and I'm straight!" -Wilbur

"Wilbur, I'm sorry to break it you, but..." -Scott

"Battle Box makes me feel like I'm always being picked last on the dodgebolt team." -Wilbur

Wilbur SCREECHING "Jojosolos!" in the shrillest possible voice before being BODIED by her

Desertduo...fighting...this feels so wrong...

Grian killing Pete and wondering if he'll be proud of him

Wilbur talking about DND and Grian mentioning how he played once, and was never invited back

Wilbur then inviting him to play with him and Scott, completely undeterred with the warning that he's an "absolute menace"

"I can't nap, I don't like naps." -Scott

"You've never had a good nap, then." -Phil

Wilbur having an internal crisis over having to fight his dear, beloved Ranboo

"Maybe I need to play MCC from liminal places more often!" -Wilbur

"There, by the grace of god, goes Grian!" -Wilbur

Wilbur talking about how he used to have. just Grian. as his skin

WEIRD DUNK.

Wilbur walking up to Scott, and very seriously asking if he's ever played Club Penguin

"You just want to be Mr. Beast in Minecraft." -Phil

"I want to be Mr. Rock Hopper!" -Wilbur

Wilbur going between his Nook and Cranny in the MD waiting room

"I may have fell asleep." -Grian after the whole team got wiped 10 seconds in

Grian calling Wilbur's tones "dulcet", Wilbur buffering on the definition for a second, and then remembering he used that word in a song

Scott finishing 40th to Grian's 39th, and Grian considering "maybe he doesn't cheat..."

Phil singing a little song about following Scott as he follows Scott

"I'm sad, the sea's too cold to swim now." -Wilbur

Him and Phil arguing over whether he should wear a wetsuit instead

Them making plans to play Raft in real life, and Scott assisting by saying he'll release The Shark (Sharkie Evans) ((we love her))

"Ay Grian, are you awake?" -Wilbur

"Uh." -Grian

Scar's team being their downfall twice throughout the rounds

"I've had a club sandwich, and it's not sitting right." -Wilbur

Grian asking what a club sandwich is, and Wilbur delightedly explaining it to him

Grian NOT being sold on the idea that a club sandwich could be better than a jam sandwich

"This is Green's game. Scar's going to tell me later how proud he is." -Grian

Scott saying he counts his coins meticulously every night, and Grian adding he gives them a lil kiss and tucks them into bed

Grian and Wilbur lamenting over not getting the ~fabulous~ pride coin, with Grian talking about how he sometimes wake up "in a cold sweat" thinking about it

"The gays stay winning! We might have the same rights as everyone else, but we do have a SICK coin!" -Scott

Grian asking Phil to get high for him in GR, and both Phil and Wilbur being VERY down for that

Wilbur crying out that the chickens aren't beasts, they're friends!

The builders absolutely wrecking shop during the Beach Bridge room

Wilbur and Grian planning out his bedtime routine to kick in during the break

Wilbur and Scott arguing over whether it's cocky for him to say people will be sad when he dies, beginning a minutes-long discussion over the circumstances of his death

Wilbur dubbing Phil Team Captain ten seconds before SG starts

"Phil, you are H&M. You've just equipped me." -Wilbur

Phil having to shop around the map in order to find shoes his size

Wilbur proposing that they have an MCC where everyone's parents play, and Grian calling him out that he just wants to meet Grian's mother

Grian taking a nap during the break and leaving his chat in the fumbling? capable? hands of Wilbur

Wilbur becoming even more incomprehensible during this period, and Grian coming back with the most disappointed "I trusted you."

Wilbur trying to encourage free thinking in the chat after an era of Dream and Tommy supremacy

Wilbur desperately attempting to shoo off the swarm of fans that joined during AR because "the bit is over, man!"

Wilbur just. continuing this fight with his chat over AR the entire way through

"I can't let Tim beat me." -Grian

Grian frustratedly saying he's angy tired now, and Wilbur going into an excruciating bit of baby talking through a scenario of giving Grian milk, comfort, and NOT rice cakes (that'll keep him up all night)

Wilbur telling Grian to talk as rapidly as he could in order to enter silly mode, allowing us to learn that Grian's favorite animal is the seal and his least favorite color is Wilbur's shirt

"Me when. Don't ask me about the antithesis of yeah." -Wilbur when he dies in HITW

Scott and Wilbur talking about "intimate stories" they talked about in private

"Grian and I's DMs are not filled with explicit material." -Wilbur (why)

"That you know of." -GRIAN??????

Phil swearing during the last round and Grian saying that he racked up 2 so far (he's been keeping tabs)

Scott and Wilbur talking about "smooth" and "crunchy" colors

Wilbur going on ANOTHER rant about the nature of the universe, and how they are the universe-, and Grian just defeaning

Phil's chat continuously in agony over Wilbur "Wilburing"

"It's when you wave your hands like you're explaining something, but sped up." -Phil

"I think I might come dead last this time. Sleep's important guys." -Grian during TGTTOS

Wilbur and Phil discovering that the chicken is a drone in the decision dome map

Wilbur getting one half of a Swear Point for saying "Fu-!"

Phil ranting desperately in justification over his decision to punch Scar off

"It's punch or be punched in this world!" -Phil

Allll the betrayal during the Shallow Lava map

Wilbur sharing a story about how one time, when he was a kid, a teacher said he was "too creative"

The ABSOLUTE SIN of PKT being chosen over SOT. Someone will pay for this.

Grian and Phil going into a horrendous bit about Wilbur peeing all over the warehouse in order to assert his dominance over his territory

"Did I wash my hands? No I didn't. No I didn't chat." -Wilbur

The ongoing theme of LET FATE DECIDE continuing in their decision to let the game choose the hunter in PKT

Phil screaming in increasingly high decibels as he narrowly escapes death over and over again

Wilbur patenting the Phil Claws™

Grian now owing Wilbur a non-tired game, as he once fell asleep during his Wilburing

Wilbur saying he can take a nap during DB, there's nothing keeping him here, and Grian hitting him with the cute curveball of "you're here! :D"

Wilbur's chat spamming "hot guy" and him confusedly asking about it

"Scar's a hot guy." -Grian

Grian asking Wilbur to commentate this like a golf game, and him obliging in his own Wilbur way

Lizzie and Scott actively cheering against Joel

Things getting UNHINGED. THERE'S A KEYBOARD SALESMAN NOW?? WHAT???

GREEN WINS! THE TRUE ENDING!!

Wilbur and Scott fighting over whether he gets McDonald's

Pink Parrots finished MCC 25 in 10th place!

#mcc #mcc 25 #wilbur soot #philza #grian #smajor1995 #birb's mcc recaps #us socket duo enjoyers were EATING WELL TODAY #the philza and grian and scott interactions were also excellent #I cannot stress enough how downright chaotic they got near the end there #Hope everyone had a great MCC though!#I am aware that Wilbur was not in a loading bay. I do however think it's very funny to act like he really committed to the bit that hard #(all Wilbur soot does is eat sponge cake and lie)

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minty-mumbles · 3 years ago

Note

Ok fics where one of the chain saves/protects Wind and goes out or something is all well and good but consider Wind protecting one of the chain instead just imagine the angst potentials

Say no more! Sorry it took a while, I was pretty hung up on school work. This is mostly Just legend contemplating Wind, and Wind is unconscious for the entire snippet, but I couldn't figure out where I wanted to to go from here, so just take it

Legend didn’t like kids. He didn’t want to have any of his own, and normally, he never spared them a second thought.

That was before he started traveling with eight other heroes. Several of whom were underage. It was easy to forget their ages most of the time. Hyrule and Wild were both only a few years younger than him, so they barely counted. Four was mature enough it was easy to forget he was really only 16.

Wind, on the other hand…

He was immature, and inexperienced, and often had ridiculous ideas that almost never turned out well. He was loud, and talked a lot, and played stupid pranks, and-

He acted like a kid.

He acted like he was fourteen.

Because he was.

Legend was sure Wind had picked up on Legend’s dislike of him. The vet tried his best not to make it obvious. Wind was still just a kid. Even if you didn’t like kids, that didn’t give you an excuse to be a dick to them. They were kids!

So Legend tried his best to not let any of his irritation with the kid show.

But Wind wasn’t stupid. He was a hero, and while they weren’t known for their intelligence, they were typically observant. Wind wasn’t an exception.

After a while, Legend started to notice Wind was avoiding him as much as Legend was avoiding him. Legend didn’t know if it was a conscious decision on Wind's part, or if he was simply mirroring Legend's own behavior.

Regardless of intention, Legend had probably had the worst relationship with Wind out of the whole group. He was even on better terms with Warriors, who he was always bickering with. At least that meant he actually talked to Warriors.

Which was why this situation made no sense.

Alright, no, it made perfect sense. Legend had been about to die. He hadn't been able to move, pinned to the ground by the body of a fallen moblin, and another moblin with its sword raised right above him. He had heard the other's screams distantly, and dully acknowledged that it was likely none of them would reach him in time. The moblin has swung its sword.

Legend had closed his eyes, and felt a flash of- Guilt? Shame? Some emotion he didn’t have the time to process, because there was the sound of a sword hitting flesh, and the agonized scream he was expecting, but they did not come from him. His eyes had opened, and then widened in horror at the sight of their youngest, the sailor, lying prone on top of the mobin corpse already draped over Legend’s body.

He had taken the blow for Legend.

So, yeah, the situation made perfect sense. But Legend didn't understand why it had happened. Wind had no reason to sacrifice himself for Legend, not really.

He was fine now, of course, or as fine as one could be after they got stabbed. Hyrule had made sure of that after he got his hands on the sailor. But Wind remained unconscious. Legend had taken up sitting vigil over him. There was little else he could do.

Why had the boy been so foolish? Legend sighed, putting his head in his hands. Of course he was glad Wind did what he had done. Legend didn't actually want to die. But why had he felt the need to throw himself in front of Legend? Why not try and block with a shield, or his sword?

Wild could be a bad influence on the younger members of the team, sometimes.

#thanks for waiting anon :) It took me a while cause i was busy with classes #very unsatisfied with the end up i wanted to get it posted so...#mint’s fanfiction #asks open anon on #linked universe #lu fanfiction #lu legend #lu wind #lu legend angst #lu wind angst #injuries #stab wound

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bokettochild · 3 years ago

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Hyrule’s “Magic Touch”

I couldn’t resist and I’m not sorry :)

Based on this post, I have no regrets.

Groans sound around camp as Warrior’s knuckles touched stone.

“Another win for Twilight!” Wild cheers, taking his earnings from the betting pool that had been started while Warriors rubs his tender knuckles, shooting his fellow knight a look of betrayal while Twilight laughs.

“No shame, Wars.” Twilight jabs playfully. “Pretty boys aren’t meant to have strong hands.”

“Shame.” Wind scowls, pouting as his rupees are snatched up by the cackling winners as Wild and Four divide them. “You just cost me thirty rupees!”

“That’s not that much, Wind.” The captain sighs, wringing his hands and wincing, prompting a look of concern from Twilight for the briefest of seconds before the soldier turns on his brother, blue eyes twinkling. “As least my hands aren’t too pig to sew my clothes up properly.”

Twilight rolls his eyes at the jab and squares up for his next opponent, breathing heavily as Time settles across from him. “Don’t hold back on me, Pup.” The old man teases, flexing his fingers and clasping Twilight’s boney hand with his own.

Eager whispers joins with hearty cheers as the bout starts, both heroes straining against each other as they wrestle to knock the other’s hand to the stone beneath, veins bulging and sweat forming on their brows as blue locked with steely blue.

One the edge of the camp, Hyrule giggles softly, his own fingers tangled in thread as he attempts to work over the tear in his tunic. Ordinarily, he’d ask Legend to help him, but the vet was currently seated on the edge of camp with a scowl, sulking for some reason that no one had been able to determine, and not even the rancher’s offer of a friendly match had done the trick. The offer had been taken by Four, who’d bested the rancher with a surprising bout of strength that had prompted Warriors calling foul, only for the all to discover that the smithy was, in fact, not wearing any strength enhancing items.

“I’m a smith.” Four reminded them as he collected his winnings. “I swing hammers and lift heavy things on the daily.”

Since then, each of the other heroes has tried their hand at beating the rancher, only Hyrule and Legend sitting out, the vet for his own reasons and Hyrule because, as the team healer, he needs his hands to be usable should something happen. He doesn’t mind though, even though he is of the opinion that getting his knuckles backed against stone would probably be better than pricking himself with a sewing needle time and again.

For only the second time that knight, Twilight’s knuckles scrape over stone, the others counting down in frenzied shouts as the rancher strains against his mentor to raise his hand again.

“Two! One! Time wins!” Warriors cheers, grinning widely as he bumps the old man’s shoulder, Twilight wincing and wringing his hand to regain some feeling as he offers the other for a friendly hand shake.

“Good game, Pup.” Time chuckles softly, shaking the hand offered to him. “You nearly had me there.”

“You won, fair and square.” Twilight shrugs. “But I’m beat you next time, pa.”

Matching midnight eyes blink at each other as red flushes over the rancher’s cheeks, but Time only smiles at him, lips twitching upwards as he lightly squeezes the hand in his own before releasing it.

“You’re both pretty strong.” Four observes, brows furrowing as he hands the grinning captain his winnings.

“They have to be.” Wind pipes up. “They’re heroes after all!”

Their leader’s scarred face twists up in a grin as he meets the sailor’s silver-blue eyes. “But strength isn’t the only thing that makes a hero, Wind.”

The kid grins right back, hopping to his feet so he can muse Time’s hair, surprising Twilight and making Wars shake his head. “I know that! After all, there’s no strength in a sword unless the one swingin’ it has courage!”

Time’s smile brightens as he pulls away and it’s quickly replaced by a playful scowl as he straightens his mused hair, but Wind only laughs at him, easy and cheery as Warriors’ chuckles fill the camp. “Gremlins, both of you.”

“Proud of it, Cap’n!” Wind blinks. It’s supposed to be a wink, everyone knows as much after seeing Tetra, but Wind is cursed with the inability to blink only one eye at a time, and no one, not even time, could properly explain to him how it worked.

“The hand that holds it has courage, huh?” Sky muses aloud. “That sounds like poetry of some kind.”

“It’s accurate though.” Warriors returns sliding down to sit between his fellow knights as Wild finishes stashing away his earnings in the slate, the champions eyes carefully not meeting Twilight’s betrayed expression that his own protégé would bet against him. “We used to say as much in the army, or rather, they did. Arty would remind me of it when I was feeling down.”

“But what does it mean?” Wild cocks his head to one side.

“That only those with a strong heart full of courage can wield a blade to it’s true potential. That doesn’t mean the triforce of courage mind,” The captain adds quickly when he sees Wild’s face fall. “Although it originated as a saying about the heroes of the past, it’s grown common to use for any who wields the blade. Only the bravest can face the dangers of the world as we do and come back alive to take on the next task.”

“Like Legend?” The champion presses, cornflower blue swiveling to stare at where Legend is curled against a tree, staring into the forest with a stare that could set the forest afire.

“...Yeah.” Warriors nods. “Like Legend, like Time, like all of us really.”

“What’s wrong with Legend.” Sky hisses in a soft whisper, so quiet Hyrule only just catches it from where he’s sitting on Wild’s other side. The captain only shrugs, shaking his head with a sigh as three sets of blue stared towards the vet.

“Of all the things I’ve faced,” The captain muses. “I think only facing a newly woken Sky can best the levels of courage one would need to approach a grouchy Legend.”

He laughs. “Legend’s not that bad! He’s just having an off day!”

Sapphire, cornflower and royal blue all turn to meet Hyrule’s twinkling golden-hazel as the three knights stare at him in confusion.

“He would tear us apart.” Warriors states slowly, and Hyrule can’t stop the snort that escapes him as he pulls himself to his feet.

“No, he wouldn’t! Watch!” And despite the hissed whispers of ‘No!’ and ‘Hyrule, wait!’, he saunters over to where the vet sits and broods at the edge of the camp.

The vet’s eyes are shadowed with heavy bags and his violet eyes snap indigo as they stare out into the forest, fingers rubbing mindlessly across his numerous rings as he sits and scowls at nothing in particular. Hyrule isn’t sure what set him off, or if it really even matters; some days they just get overwhelmed and need some space, but the vet doesn’t say anything when the traveler’s boots crunch through the fallen leaves around them, or when they come to a halt only inches away.

“Legend?” Silence falls over the camp behind them as Warriors grips his hair with a murmured ‘R.I.P. Hyrule’, Legend’s empty eyes swiveling his way with a scowl. “Can I have your wrist?”

“Why?” The vet scowls, but he’s already extended his wrist to Hyrule, and the traveler promptly grasps it in his hands and pulls Legend to his feet, startling some sort of emotion back into Legend’s eyes as he pulls his mentor towards the camp. “Okay, we’re walking.” Legend grouses, where are we going?”

In the midst of the camp, eyes widen as Hyrule continues, unscathed by harsh words or swinging hands as he pulls Legend towards the fire.

“Sit.” The traveler commands, settling down on the ground and pulling Legend with him. Confusion plays across the vet’s face but he obeys, sinking down and crossing his legs beneath himself as Hyrule releases his hand.

“Relax.” Hyrule orders again, one hand trailing up to pull off Legend’s baby-blue cap and gently stroke cherry-blossom hair.

As if under a spell, Legend’s shoulders lose some of their tension, the vet butting his head against Hyrule’s shoulder with a huff before settling into place. Squeaking snores erupt mere minutes later as the heroes of Hyrule stare in utter shock at their brother.

“How!” Warriors exclaims, throwing his hands up as the others all blink and shake their heads in surprise.

Beneath the weight of his sleeping mentor, Hyrule smiles. “Magic touch.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu hyrule #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wind #lu wild #lu sky #lu legend #lu four #hugs legenda #hyrule my beloved #fluffics

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years ago

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Chapter 6: Fan

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[masterlist]

“And that’s how you cook rice,” Kita says as he puts the pot in the rice cooker. You nod, embarrassed. You settle back on the floor. hiding your face from the two boys as they talk about how their friends. Osamu’s phone starts ringing so he answers it and a loud voice speaks.

“Bro! (Y/N) really lives with Shinsuke?” The caller says in awe so you look at Osamu. He turns the camera to you and you wave your hands, mouthing a hi. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

“Aran, calm down. You act like it’s your first time meeting a celebrity,” Osamu tells the person on the line.

“I can talk to him if he wants to,” you offer to Osamu which Aran hears loud and clear. You hear him shuffle around before Osamu gives you the phone. You greet him with a smile, forgetting about the rice incident. “Hello, Aran-san. Is that right?”

“Yes. I’m a big fan! Actually my whole team is! We watch your vlogs on our breaks,” Aran rambles, making you smile. Interacting with fans is something that helps you cope up with your stress, and knowing that you got a group of athletes as your fans, makes you feel overwhelmed, but in a good way.

“Really? It’s nice to hear that you enjoy my videos. I’ll upload more content soon,” you reply, the smile not leaving your face.

“Who are you talking to?” You hear someone ask from the background.

“(Y/N),” Aran replies excitedly.

“You might have gone crazy,” the other man replies.

“No! I’m serious! Look!” Aran flips his phone to who he’s with, revealing you on the screen. You awkwardly bow then wave.

“It is her! How did you-? Does she have a fan event or something! Hello, (Y/N). I just finished watching the vlog you uploaded yesterday,” the man tells you, coming in close to the camera. “I’m Gao!”

“Hi, Gao-san! It’s nice meeting you!” You greet him cheerfully and the three of you continue to talk.

Kita and Osamu just watch you talk to them. They feels like an online fan signing is happening in front of them. The two of them continue to talk on their own. Minutes later, Osamu hears the rice cooker’s alarm go off so he stands up and gets the rice, leaving you and Kita alone on the table.

You are still talking to the boys, which have now turned into a whole team. Kita observes you carefully. The way you smile on the phone as if they’re really in front you is making him feel weird inside. And you’re really listening to what they’re saying, which is making that already weird feeling even weirder.

‘Am I becoming a fan?’ Kita asks himself, unsure of what he’s feeling.

“The rice is here,” Osamu announces as he puts the pot at the side.

“I have to leave now,” you tell the men in front of you. “It was fun talking to all of you. And I promise to go to one of your games one day. Bye!” You wave at the phone. You hear a chorus of good byes before you end it. You give the phone back to Osamu, apologizing to him for using his phone.

“It’s okay. You seemed like you were enjoying talking to them,” he remarks, sitting across you.

“Yeah. I love talking to fans,” you say confidently, smiling at Osamu. And there is it again, the weird feeling Kita is new to.

‘Maybe I am becoming a fan,’ he tells himself, getting rice from the pot. “How much rice do you want?” Kita suddenly asks you. Your mind short circuits from his question. It’s not a big deal and even back home, someone does it for you but since Kita is the one doing it the rice feels extra special.

“I think that’s enough,” you answer as he shows you the bowl of rice. He hands it to you and you accept it with both of your hands.

The three of you eat and talk. You ask them questions about their friendship, and you learn that Kita used to play volleyball. You also find out that Kita stopped studying after high school so he can provide for his grandmother. The more you know about him, the more you start to like him despite being the complete opposite of your ideal type.

You see Osamu out while Kita offers to do the dishes. As Osamu’s car leaves, you hear a dog bark. You look around the parking area, searching for the source of sound. You spot white fur by the bushes so you slowly approach it. Suddenly, a small white dog jumps on you, making you yelp in surprise. After you’ve regained composure, you properly hold the dog.

“Hi, there, little...” You lift him up and check its genital. “Boy. You’re a little boy. Are you lost?” You nuzzle your nose on its nose, shaking the dogs body slowly. You take a better look at him.

He has a puffy long coat which is snowy white, but his ears are grey. He has amber eyes and a very smiley face. He looks like an extra tiny fox. He’s small so you assume that he’s a puppy. You look for a collar or any tag, but you don’t see any. You can’t say that it’s Kita’s neighbor’s dog, because he doesn’t have one. The closest house to his is at least a 5 minute drive.

You stare at him intently, wondering why he looks familiar. Then you finally know who he looks like.

“You look like, Kita,” you coo, bopping its nose. It licks your nose in return so you giggle. “Want to meet Kita?” He barks in response, which you take as a yes. You carry him inside excitedly, not taking in mind about Kita’s reaction to the strange furry animal.

You finally step in the kitchen where Kita is and you proudly show him your new found friend. Kita drops the fork he was washing, totally frozen on his spot. Why are you carrying a dog in his house? Where did you even get that dog?

“What’s that?” Kita asks you, picking up the fork he dropped.

“It’s a dog!” You answer with a proud smile. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Where did you get that thing?” He looks so horrified and grossed out. If anything, he’s ready to throw the dog out of his house.

“I saw him outside. He doesn’t have a collar or any tag on so I brought him inside,” you reply with an innocent tone so he takes a deep breath in.

“What makes you think you can just bring any animal in my house?” His voice is louder than a while ago so you frown. “Bring it back to wherever you found it.”

“No! Look at him! He’s so small! What if a car runs over it?” You gasp, hugging the dog even tighter. Kita looks at you in disgust.

“That’s his destiny,” he remarks but you ignore him. “This is my house, you know. And I don’t want animals in here.” You and the dog stare at him with puppy eyes but he just gags. “You take it out of my house now.”

“But-”

“No more buts. My house, my rules,” he tells you firmly, but you don’t back down.

“Can we let him stay inside just for tonight? I promise I’ll find him a home by tomorrow!” You beg him.

“Nope.”

“Please, Kita!”

“No.”

“Please. Please. Please. Pretty please.”

“Still no.”

“It’s just for tonight. Right, boy?” You ask the puppy and he barks. “See? He’s a good boy.” Kita groans, defeated. You’re even more persistent than the twins, and those two are tenacious as hell.

“Fine. As long as it doesn’t make a mess and noise, he can stay. Just for tonight. I’ll be the one bringing him to the compound tomorrow,” Kita finally agrees but you don’t like his idea.

“Compound? No! I’ll find him a good home myself,” you argue once again. Kita sharply looks at you, but you don’t seem moved or afraid by it. “I’m searching for a home now.” You put the dog on the ground and run to your room to post a picture of him online.

The furry animal and Kita stare at each other for a long time. “Why does he look like someone I know?” Kita questions, tilting his head to the side. The dog mirrors his action. “Osamu when he had grey hair? Or that guy from MSBY?”

“I’ve found a name for him!” You shout, sliding your feet back to the kitchen.

“You’re supposed to look for an owner, not a name,” Kita snaps at you. You ignore his words and pick the dog up and stretch your arms towards Kita’s direction, presenting him the dog.

“Rice. Let’s name him Rice,” you state and he turns around, completely in disagreement with your plans. You put Rice down and move closer to Kita. “It’s a cute name! It suits him. He even looks like you! Rice is just the most suitable name.” Kita grimaces at how you compared him to a dog.

“You’ve only been here for a few hours, and in that few hours you’ve made porridge and brought a strange dog in.” Kita faces you, the distance between the two of you small but safe.

“I’m sorry...” You lower your head, frowning. You hear him sigh so you look back up anxiously.

“I’ll go to the vet tomorrow and see if he’s chipped and has an owner. If he doesn’t, he can stay here. But you need to take care of him,” Kita tells you, giving in to your pleads. ‘Why do I feel like I have a child?’

Out of excitement, you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him. Once you’ve realized what you’ve done, you pull away from him then run back to your room, Rice following you.

“Why did I do that?” You groan, your face buried on your pillow. Rice barks and you see him sit across you. You smile widely, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you remember the hug again. “He’s so warm!” You squeal like a teenage girl. You start rolling on the floor, muffling your squeals and shrieks on the pillow. “He smells even better up close.”

Meanwhile, Kita is back to washing the dishes, but is completely distracted. He can’t stop thinking about your hug. The thought of your hug turns into a smile. Then, it becomes your voice. After that, it’s your face. ‘She’s cute.’ He finds himself smiling while washing the dishes.

He finally realizes what the weird feeling is.

‘Do I like her?’

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Facts:

Dogs noses are wet to help absorb scent chemicals

Three dogs survived the Titanic sinking

Pomeranians weren’t always so little. They used to weigh as much as 20 to 30 pounds before being bred down in size by Queen Victoria of England.

Despite their small stature, they are famous for thinking they can take on big dogs with their little bark. This makes socializing a Pomeranian with other dogs important in order to avoid aggressive behavior.

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motherjoel · 4 years ago

Text

cup of sugar (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after finding out that your cat needs to be put down, the last thing you expect is a visit from your handsome neighbor who just needs a cup of sugar

category: fluff, light angst (about the cat lol)

warnings/includes: death of an animal, needles

wc: 6.6k

a/n: this is my submission for the @veraiconcos writer challenge! hope you guys like it :)

Your eyes were blurred with tears the whole drive home from the vet. You tried your best to refrain from looking back at your sick cat (who you had lovingly named after Fantine from Les Mis), but you stole a few glances at her while trying to concentrate on the road. Eventually, you made it home safely and you grabbed the crate from your backseat to bring it up to your apartment.

The vet had said she was nearing the end of her life, and it was only a matter of time before she passed. You had scheduled to put her down in a few days and your heart wrenched for the poor kitty. She wasn’t anything special on the outside, just a brown short-haired cat you could see on the street, but to you she was everything. She had been sitting right next to your car parking spot for months before you actually took her in- you fed her and gradually began to pet her before you decided to take her inside your home and show her the love she deserved. You’d been through a lot with her and you weren’t ready to say goodbye, but you didn’t want to prolong her suffering, So, you decided to spend every moment with her until your appointment.

You set down the crate and let her out, and she sluggishly made her way to her coveted position on your couch. You had yet to cease crying- every time you looked at her you welled up at the thought of losing her. Right as you were about to take a seat next to her, you heard a tentative knock from your door. With a sigh, you wiped your tears and made your way to open it. Looking in the mirror before opening the door, it was obvious you were crying. You didn’t care, however, as you swung it open to see a lanky man holding a measuring cup with flour in his hair and adorning his sweater. Not just any lanky man- it was the lanky man you had developed a bit of a crush on. You saw him some days when you got back from work collecting his mail, and you couldn’t help but be interested in the mystery guy from apartment 202.

“Hi, I was just baking some cookies and I realized I was out of su- are you okay?” he asked with concern. You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just got back from the vet. Looks like I have to put my cat down,” you deadpanned. Your tears had stopped falling at this point.

“Oh gosh, I- I’m so sorry. Um, forget about the sugar I can just go to the store,” he turned on his heel and made his way back to his apartment.

“No, it's fine!” you called after him. He turned around with a grimace. “It’s okay, I have plenty of sugar, please, come in,” you opened the door wider for him to cautiously make his way into your apartment. You didn’t want to admit it, but this tiny bit of human interaction really helped you get your mind off of your current situation- it was normally just you and Fantine, so if you could make a friend in the meantime, you would try your best.

“Thank you,” he said as you made your way into the kitchen, petting Fantine on the way in. He took a glance at her before returning his gaze to you. “Is that, uh, the cat?” he asked, and you could tell he wasn’t great with comforting people in sad situations.

“Yeah, that's my Fantine,” you said, reaching into your cabinet to get the jar of sugar.

“Les Miserables?” he asked, a glint of recognition in his eyes. You smiled.

“Yes! Good to know I'm neighbors with someone of culture,” you laughed, your heart feeling light for the first time that day. “You can pet her if you'd like,” you told him before grabbing the measuring cup from him and turning to fill it with sugar. He smiled in response, keeping his hands to himself. “Allergic?” you asked, wondering if the handsome stranger maybe just wasn’t a cat person.

“Oh no, sorry, I just have a germ… thing,” he said, nervously rubbing his palms on his pants. You simply nodded and shut the jar of sugar, making your way back to him and giving him the measuring cup.

“So, you know my cat's name, but not mine. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you offered, not reaching out your hand when you remember his previous statement about germs.

“Spencer, I live next door,” he said, seeming relieved at your neglect to shake his hand. You didn't have time to say anything else before a colorfully dressed woman in a “kiss the cook” apron barged into your apartment- you noticed that you had left the door open after letting Spencer in.

“What's taking you so long G man? The butter is burning!” she exclaimed, before noticing your cat on the couch. “Oh. My. God. Now who is this sweetie pie?” she asked, running to your couch and lovingly petting her.

“Fantine,” Spencer answered, looking at you with a blush.

“She is the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I am obsessed,” she cooed.

“That's Penelope,” Spencer said, widening his eyes at her when she seemed to get comfortable on your couch.

“Nice to meet you Penelope, I’m Y/N,” you introduced, making your way over to your couch.

“Oh, right, sorry,” she extended her hand and you took it. “I’ve had too much cold brew today and I am feeling a little energetic,” she laughed. You liked her jittery manner- she seemed like someone you’d want to be friends with. “How old is she?” Penelope asked, innocently. You tried to hide the way your face fell at the question, but it was obvious that it saddened you. Spencer noticed.

“Um, I actually took her in off the street so I really don’t know. She’s old, though,” you said, looking down at your tired kitty. “I actually have to… put her down in a few days,” you said, ignoring your voice crack. Without a word, you were pulled into a tight and unexpected hug. Penelope's arms were wrapped around you, leaving little room to breathe. You didn’t mind the human contact. You even let a few tears drop, having held them back for the duration of their visit. A warm hand rested on your shoulder- a warm hand that was tentative and bigger than Penelope's ones that rubbed your back. You looked up to see Spencer awkwardly attempting to comfort you. In a bold move, you rested your cheek on his hand, as if you were thanking him. Penelope pulled away after a minute, wiping her own tears from her eyes.

“Well, what an introduction that was!” she laughed through her tears, you joined her. You heard Spencer clear his throat, like he was preparing to speak.

“What if- what if we finish the baking over here?” he asked, hope in his eyes. Before you could answer, he began to ramble. “Studies show that human contact or even just being in the presence of other people can help with grieving, and-” he was cut off by Penelope.

“And we don't want to leave you alone right now. I mean, we’ve cried together already. We’re basically best friends,” Penelope said, resting a hand on your arm. You didn’t even have to contemplate the offer.

“Yeah, of course! I’d really like that,” you smiled at the two of them, who exchanged a glance.

“Great! Me and Spencer will go get the ingredients from his apartment, you just stay here with Fantine being your cute selves,” she said, dragging Spencer out by his arm and shutting the door gently behind her. You were in for an interesting night.

Spencer couldn’t help but blush at the thought of spending the rest of his night in your apartment. With Penelope, of course. He had seen you before- he didn’t know your name until today, but he had a bit of a crush on you. From the moment he first saw you feeding Fantine when she was still a stray, he fell for your gentle aura. He's not stalking you, he swears he isn't, but he subconsciously remembered your schedule. He just so happened to get his mail at 6:17 every day he was home when he knew you’d be coming back from work. And he just drove out of his way to see you feed that cat every once in a while. Not an obsession.

Penelope was the first to find out about his little crush. When she came to Spencer’s apartment to pick him up for some nerd convention, she noticed him staring at you as they drove away. You were sitting on the ground, pushing a bowl of food towards a tentative cat (who he now knew as Fantine) and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger a moment too long. Penelope immediately gasped and called him out.

“You-you… and her! She's so pretty Reid! And good with animals! Get married, right now,” she had said after watching him long for you.

“I’m not- were not,” he stuttered, Penelope shot him a knowing glare. “She doesn’t even know who I am. I don’t even know her name, I just… I just notice her, sometimes…” Spencer confessed, looking down at his twiddling thumbs. Penelope didn’t tease him too much after that, but she smirked the entire car ride there.

The rest of the team found out about his crush shortly after (thanks Garcia) and the teasing was relentless. Sure, you didn’t even know his name, but he wanted you to. Boy did he want you to. But he didn’t plan on acting on it- at least, not until he had Garcia over to bake cookies for the team. She had insisted that she come over to bake, much to Spencer's chagrin. Little did he know, she was only so insistent because she had a secret plan. A secret love plan.

Her plan had worked so far- hiding the sugar and getting Spencer to ask the pretty neighbor for some, check. Well, she didn’t have much of a plan past that, but she assumed she’d figure it out when it came down to it- and so far so good. Once she had pulled Spencer back into his apartment, he began to pace around in nervousness- Penelope was jumping in excitement.

“Reid and Y/N sitting in a tree!” she sang happily.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, slightly irritated.

“You mean, you don't know… Never mind,” she sighed.

“Garcia what the hell were you thinking! I can’t talk to her all night, I’ll find a way of looking like an idiot,” he sighed in exasperation, trying to make his sweaty hands less sweaty by rubbing them on his pants.

“Reid, Reid, Reid,” she repeated like a mantra, following his pacing and trying to calm him down. “It’s going to be okay. Seriously, you have the best wing woman on planet earth and you’re worried about whether or not she’ll like you? Please, you’re a catch baby! And she will see that tonight,” she said, eventually getting him to stop moving by placing her hands on his shoulders.

After she had calmed him down, the two gathered all of the ingredients and made the trip next door, where you were waiting on the couch with Fantine in your lap. You looked lost in thought, but you quickly jumped out of it and gave them a smile when they walked in.

“So, what are we baking?” you asked, standing up and grabbing some ingredients off of Spencer’s hands. He hoped you didn’t notice his flinch when your fingers brushed his (you did) and he hoped you didn’t see the red on his cheeks (you did, but you looked similarly tomato-like).

“We are making my famous brown butter chocolate chip cookies!” Penelope exclaimed, already measuring out some ingredients.

“Ooh yummy! What makes them famous?” you asked.

“Oh, you’ll know once you taste them. Just ask Spencer, he could eat 7 in just one sitting,” she joked. Best wing woman on planet earth my ass, Spencer thought.

“Oh really, Spence? I bet you I can beat that tonight,” you giggled, moving to help measure the brown sugar. Maybe Penelope was doing an okay job after all.

“Did you know that the first chocolate cookies were invented by accident by Ruth Wakefield in 1938?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“No, but tell me more!” you smiled, returning your attention to the measuring cup in front of you. He faltered for a moment, surprised at your eagerness to hear more about his facts, but he continued.

“Ruth and her husband owned the Toll House Inn and she was baking cookies for their guests when she realized that she was out of bakers chocolate. So, when she chopped up a block of Nestle semi-sweet chocolate and added it to the dough, she expected it to disperse evenly throughout, but instead they retained their original form and.. you know. Chocolate chip cookies,” he finished weakly, looking up to see you staring at him in awe. Penelope was unphased, having been around boy genius for far too long, but you were looking at him like he had just found the secret to world peace. “What?” he asked tentatively, suddenly extremely self conscious.

“Sorry, it’s just, that was so cool! I’ve never seen someone recite facts like that. Plus, you’re a great story teller,” you finished, nudging him with your arm. Oh god, you were too cute. He tried his best not to smile like an insane person as he walked between you and Penelope to open the bag of chocolate chips.

“Yup, our boy genius here has an IQ of 187,” Penelope said, patting Spencer on the head. You laughed for a moment, assuming she was joking, but when you saw the dead serious look on their faces you were shocked.

“You mean I was living next door to a superhero all this time and I never knew?” you asked, still in shock from the previous information. Spencer laughed, and it was music to your ears.

“Well, I'm not- I'm not a superhero,” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Oh yeah? What do you do for a living?” you asked, expecting he was some sort of mad scientist. Penelope snorted a laugh. “What?” you smiled.

“Well, I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, so does Penelope,” he said, and you didn’t seem to know what that was, so he continued. “We… we profile serial killers based off of their actions and eventually we catch them before they can cause any more harm,” he explained, trying to distract himself by eating the chocolate chips in front of him (and having his hand promptly swatted by Garcia). Your mouth opened even wider than before, if possible.

“Spencer. You are a superhero!” you said in shock, grabbing his arm with excitement. He gasped at the contact- he didn’t not like it. He was just surprised. You noticed his reaction, however, and apologized quickly.

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed.

“No it's okay!” he said, slightly too eager. You smiled and nodded, and he felt relieved.

“Penelope, do you tackle the serial killers too?” you asked, wondering if the ball of sunshine had an angry side.

“Oh heavens no. I’m the techie, I basically dig up all the dirt you could ever possibly need. Basically a gardener,” she remarked, and you couldn't help but smile.

“I’m friends with superheroes,” you said, doing a little dance in your spot while pouring some flour into the mixer. Spencer melted.

“Wrong,” said Penelope. “You're best friends with some superheroes.”

You spent the rest of the night laughing and chatting with your new best friends, and eventually feasting on the cookies on your couch next to Fantine, who was sleeping peacefully. You tried to break Spencer's record of 7 cookies, but tapped out after 4. Despite the upsetting news you had received earlier that night, you were extremely happy. As you waved them goodbye, and even hugged Spencer goodnight, your heart was full. You had both of their phone numbers and you planned to text them sometime soon- you didn’t want that to be the last you saw of Penelope and Spencer.

You awoke the next morning with a pit in your stomach. You couldn’t tell exactly why, but you had the feeling that something was going to happen today. Trying not to dwell on it, however, you began to get ready for the day. You worked a 9-5 job as a secretary at a local law office- this wasn’t your end goal career, but something to pay the bills. You went to say goodbye to Fantine when you noticed something was wrong. She was having difficulty breathing, every breath was labored. Your heart dropped when you realized this was the cause of your pit- you were saying goodbye to your kitty today. You hurried to grab her crate, hastily wiping away your tears, and ushered her inside. You didn’t know if you would even be able to see the road in your state, so without thinking, you knocked on the door next to yours and waited for a moment, tears continuously streaming. Spencer swung the door open, his face immediately falling when he saw you.

“Y/N, what’s- what’s wrong?” he asked, seemingly ready to leave for work. You couldn’t find any words as you gently set down her crate and wrapped your arms around Spencer's waist. He was shocked at this, but he comforted you once he got his bearings. His hand rubbed your back as you cried into his sweater vest, not worried about the scene you were causing in the middle of the hallway.

“It’s- its Fantine,” you sobbed into his chest. “I think she needs to be put down today,” you told him, pulling away slightly and wiping your tears.

“Oh Y/N, i'm so sorry,” he said, and he truly meant it. Seeing you upset like this sent a dagger through his heart. He contemplated for a moment before he spoke again. “Why don't I… drive you to the vet? I want to make sure you get there okay,” he said, voice laced with concern.

“Don’t you have to catch the bad guys?” you asked as an attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, but neither of you had the energy to laugh.

“It’s just a paperwork day today, I’ll call Penelope and let her know I won't make it in,” he said, quickly gathering his phone and his car keys. You nodded, not finding your voice in the moment. You followed him down to his car and he opened the backseat door for you to put the crate in. He guided you to the passenger's seat, placing a soft hand on the small of your back as he opened the door for you. As he jogged around to the driver's seat and pulled away, you opened your GPS app to give him the directions. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, apart from your occasional directing. You suddenly felt extremely guilty for letting him drive you.

“This is ridiculous, I’m sorry for ruining your day. I’m just super dramatic about things and you probably have better things to do then take your neighbor and her sick cat to the vet,” you apologized, feeling embarrassed by your actions.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. You’re entitled to your grief, and I just want to be there for you… to, you know, help you with it,” he said, glancing at you occasionally. “I’ve never had a pet before and I don’t normally like animals, but I know how attached we can get to things,” he said, focusing on the road. You nodded and with a bout of confidence, you reached over and grabbed his hand, resting your entwined fingers on the center console. His eyes widened, but he didn’t let go. His knowledge of germs had completely left him- he was being touched by the girl who he’d been pining after for months, and he wasn’t going to let a little germaphobia get in the way. You noticed his reaction, but you blushed as you looked out the window, seeing the animal hospital come into view. You sighed and removed your hand from his and opened your door, grabbing the crate from the back seat and walking towards the entrance. You noticed that Spencer was standing outside his car, unsure of what to do.

“Do you- would you come in with me?” you asked, hoping he’d say yes. “I just… they’ll probably put her down and I don't want to be alone,” you asked with unintentional puppy dog eyes. Spencer thought for a moment- walking into a hospital full of sick animals with many diseases seemed like the absolute last thing he wanted to do. But when he looked at your pleading eyes, he knew that he couldn’t just wait in the car.

“Of course,” he conceded, locking his car and following you inside the clinic.

You met with the vet quickly and your suspicions were correct- poor Fantine was suffering and the best option was to put her down now. Your heart shattered, but you felt Spencer's comforting hand on your back, trying to glue those pieces back together. The vet had given you the option to either stay with her while she was put down or to wait in the other room.

“I think I want to be with her, I don’t want her to be alone,” you said, wiping away a stray tear.

“Will your boyfriend be coming too?” the vet asked, turning his attention to Spencer. Neither of you acknowledged the boyfriend title. He was about to answer when you interrupted him.

“Oh Spence, don’t worry about coming in. I’ve already dragged you here, you can just wait in the other room if you want,” you offered, sincerely. Spencer could see that you wanted him to stay- that you wanted him to comfort you. So, pushing his anti-germ rules aside once again, he made up his mind.

“Of course I’m coming with you Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he decided, and you gave him a grateful but sad smile.

So, as you said your tearful goodbyes, the vet took out his needle and began the process. Spencer rubbed your back, eventually wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed. You could swear you felt a kiss on the head, but you were mainly focused on your cat. You decided to get her cremated, and as Spencer guided you out of the clinic, you felt extremely empty. You missed your best friend already.

The drive home was mainly silent, and you wanted to grab his hand again. You decided against it, however- you thought you might have pushed his limits of touch and germs today (you hadn’t. Spencer decided that he would never be tired of your touch). You made your way up to your apartment, empty crate in hand, with Spencer following a few steps behind. He walked you to your door, stopping outside when you unlocked it. He put his anxious hands in his pockets, trying his best not to fidget (and also trying to prevent himself from reaching out to wipe your tears).

“So…” you said, looking at your feet.

“Yeah, so…” he said, doing the same.

“Listen Spencer, I know we’ve just met and-and you're probably tired of me already, but… this is my first night without her, and I don't want to be lonely. I know this is a lot to ask, especially after I dragged you around all day, but… if I asked you to stay, would you?” you said, shyly looking up at him. Spencer could feel his heart stutter, looking at you softly.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, yes I will,” he responded, offering a nervous smile. You gave him one back, unlocking your door and letting him inside your apartment. It already felt different without her, but the presence of Spencer did a little to fill that void. You ushered him to sit down on the couch and you moved to make some tea for the both of you. You didn’t notice Spencer internally freaking out about being in your apartment, this time alone. You made the tea in silence and brought it to the couch, sitting next to him.

“Can I braid your hair?” you asked, surprising even yourself by your bluntness.

“Can you- what?” he asked, face twisting in confusion. He didn’t know if he could handle your hands in his hair, but he wanted to find out. You laughed at his confusion, almost spilling the tea on yourself.

“Come onnn, I’m a grieving cat mother who wants to braid your hair. It would look so pretty,” you told him, and although it wasn’t a direct complement, Spencer couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face.

“Uh, sure I guess,” he said, heart rate picking up.

“Yay! Okay, you’re tall so sit on the ground and I'll stay on the couch,” you said, clapping your hands excitedly as he set his tea down on your coffee table and sat on your carpeted floor. You didn’t waste any time, sectioning his hair into sections for a french braid. You noticed him shiver at your touch. “Sorry, are my hands cold?” you almost whispered, too deep in concentration.

“No, they’re fine,” he said, closing his eyes as you ran your hands through his hair.

“You have good hair, Spence,” you told him as you worked on the short braid. He almost choked on his own tongue.

“Oh, thanks. You do too…” he said, not registering his complement before it came out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you blushed, focusing on your handiwork. It didn’t take you long to finish, and when you turned him around to observe the braid, you couldn’t help the squeal that escaped your throat. “Oh my gosh, you look so good!” you exclaimed, pulling your phone out of your pocket and taking a selfie of the two of you. He smiled awkwardly for the camera. “Penelope is going to love this,” you said, typing her contact in the phone. Spencer knew that the picture would soon be seen by the entire BAU, but he let it go when he saw you smile genuinely for the first time that day. You held your phone out to him for him to see the picture.

“Don’t we look cute?” you smiled.

“Yes, you- I mean we do,” he said, hoping you didn’t catch his slip. You did.

“Spence?” you asked, contemplating something. He looked up at you.

“Yes?” he asked, wondering what you were thinking about.

“What do you do when you’re sad? Because when I used to get sad, I’d just cuddle with Fantine, but…” you trailed off, your eyes glazing over as you thought about her again.

“You can cuddle with me,” he said. You looked at him, eyes wide- he didn’t think he had said that out loud. “I mean… physical touch increases levels of dopamine and serotonin, so if we were to… you know… uh maybe it would make you feel better?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. You smiled and pulled him back on the couch. He sat there as you put your head on his chest, his arm tentatively reaching around your shoulders. You chose to ignore his increased heartbeat, which he was sure you could hear.

“Do you think… does it get better?” you asked, eyes brimming with tears. “I mean, will I ever miss her less? Will it hurt less eventually?” you finished with a sigh. Spencer thought back to all of the pain he's been through and the ways he’s dealt with it. He’s learned some healthy coping mechanisms, as well as some extremely unhealthy ones. He thought deeply before answering.

“I think… we make room for the hurt. I don’t think it ever goes away, but you learn to cope and deal with it to the point where you feel better. Eventually,” he explained as delicately as possible. You lifted your head from his chest and gazed into his eyes to see he was already looking back at you. He could feel himself leaning in, and you responded by doing the same. You were both inches away from each other when you heard a sharp knock on your door. The both of you jumped at the noise, flustered, as if you had been caught.

“I’ll… go get that,” you said, quickly getting off of the couch and running to the door. Spencer mentally facepalmed himself- you were grieving and he thought the perfect moment to make his move was while he was comforting you. Although, you had seemed to reciprocate the feelings…

“Penelope!” you yelled, opening the door to be immediately greeted with a bear hug.

“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N,” she cried into your shoulder. You pat her back, consoling her (this woman was one hell of an empath). You made eye contact with Spencer over her shoulder, giving him a wide eyed stare, both of you amused by Garcia’s antics. She pulled away and looked at you sadly.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, trying his best to sound like he wanted her there.

“Well, I heard about the sad day you guys were having so I brought some medicine to fix your broken hearts,” she said while pulling out a couple bottles of wine, warm cookies in her other hand.

“You’re a godsend Penelope Garcia,” you smiled, taking the wine and cookies into the kitchen. Garcia took this moment to grill Spencer about their day, quietly enough so you couldn’t hear.

“Soo you’ve been with her all day? Spill, I need to hear if i'm gonna have baby boy geniuses,” she said excitedly. Spencer chuckled.

“Well, the animal clinic wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting but…” he trailed off and she urged him to continue. “But, we were inches away from kissing when you decided to knock on the door,” he said, and Penelope looked distraught.

“Oh my god. I have to leave, you guys have to get back to it!” she said, standing up to go home. Spencer grabbed her arm and stopped her before she could tell you she was leaving.

“No no no! Please don't, if you leave now i'm going to have to face the awkward aftermath of… that, and I don't want to,” he said, almost begging.

“So… what you’re saying is… you need wing woman Garcia again!” she suggested, excitedly. Spencer didn’t have time to disagree before you came back in the room, cookies on a plate and balancing three wine glasses in your hand and a bottle in the crook of your arm. Spencer hopped up to help you carry everything, and Garcia did little to hide her smirk.

The rest of the night was spent cheering you up- from Taylor Swift dance parties to Disney karaoke, Penelope pulled out all the stops to make it a night to remember. After a few glasses, you had even managed to get Spencer to dance with you to a slower song, Penelope slyly recording the entire thing. Spencer didn’t care, however- all he focused on was the buzzing in his chest and your arms around his neck, his entire body tingling with excitement.

As you said your goodbyes to the duo, you pulled Penelope into a hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. You did the same for Spencer, but your kiss had landed closer to the corner of his lips. In your buzzed state, however, you didn’t acknowledge it (or the fact that you had done it on purpose). Spencer left that night with a fire in his heart and his hand rested on his lips. After a bit of teasing, Garcia took an Uber home and Spencer was left alone to contemplate his next move.

The next day, the team was called in for a case across the country- Penelope had made sure you knew this in your group text with her and Spencer that she had so lovingly named “Penny and the Jets” (the three of you had also danced to a few Elton John songs during your night together, which gave Garcia the genius grouchat name idea). It was weird for you to be alone after having spent the past few days with your new friends, and you missed the distraction. You went back to work, only being lightly reprimanded for your absence. You couldn’t help but think about Spencer’s smile most of the day, or the way he always smelled like coffee.

Across the country, Spencer had been doing the same thing, and the team had noticed. He was more spaced out than usual, and it was only a matter of time before he confessed to the team that he’d finally talked to you. Derek proudly patted him on the back when he described what it was like to spend a day with you. The team was incredibly happy for him- although they weren’t shocked. Penelope had already forwarded them the video of you both dancing and the selfie you had taken with his braided hair.

The case had finished relatively quickly, which was a relief to everyone (but especially Spencer, who wanted to make plans to see you as soon as he got back). As the team was walking together to their SUVs, Spencer's eye was drawn to a box on the sidewalk. Not just his eyes were drawn- he had heard a soft “mew” coming from the cardboard box, and he let his curiosity get the best of him as he walked over to it, Emily following him to see what he was doing. He opened the box to see a tiny kitten- he wasn’t normally an animal person, but it seemed like you had gotten to him. His heart wrenched at the sight- the kitten looked like a mini Fantine.

“Oh my gosh, that is so cute,” Emily said, leaning down to get a closer look, snapping a picture for Garcia.

“Yeah, it is,” Spencer said, lost in thought. The rest of the team came to see what the big fuss was about.

“Someone should take her!” said Prentiss, giving the team a look that said help me out. Reid should take her.

“Ah, yes. Hey, pretty boy, why don’t you take it?” Derek asked, leaning down to get a closer look. Spencer shook his head.

“I can’t take care of a cat, Morgan. Prentiss, why don’t you take it? You have Sergio,” he suggested, trying to get the attention off of him.

“Eh, one is enough for me,” she responded, nudging JJ.

“Spence, why don’t you give it to your neighbor? I’m sure Y/N would love her,” JJ suggested. Spencer's heart stuttered at your name.

“Y-you think?” he asked, unsure if it was too forward. The team wouldn’t let him leave without the cat, which he had already named Cosette in his mind (the name of Fantine’s daughter). So, he picked up the box and brought it with him onto the jet. This was the most spontaneous Spencer had ever been, and the team shared glances of shock and pride when he interacted with the kitten on the jet ride back.

Here Spencer waited, outside your door, holding the tiny kitten in his arms. He had taken it to the vet to make sure it had its shots and was able to be kept as a house pet, and he immediately came home to give it to you. It was around 7 PM so he knew you should be home (not that he was being creepy- his eidetic memory couldn’t help but memorize your schedule). After a few minutes of standing, he swallowed his nerves and knocked on your door, quickly bringing his hand back to support the kitten he was holding.

You opened the door in your sweats, your hair dripping wet from the shower you had just taken. You were apparently on the phone before you opened the door- “I gotta go,” you said, hanging up the call and tossing your phone on the couch.

“Spence, what are you doing here? And who's this?” you said with heart eyes, ushering him in and cooing at the small kitten. He had never seen you smile this wide before, and he knew he was making the right choice.

“Uh, her name is Cosette. Well, I gave her that name, you can definitely change if you want, because she's.. yours,” he said. Your mouth hung open in shock as you took the small kitty from him, rubbing your nose on her head.

“Are you serious?” you almost yelled, excitement taking over. Spencer nodded happily, watching you pet the kitten. “Oh my god, you’re the best!” you said, pulling him into a one handed hug, the other arm holding Cosette. He laughed and hugged you back, before the unexpected happened. Maybe you were just extremely grateful, or maybe the adrenaline was taking over, but you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss onto his lips. Just like that. Like it was natural, like you had kissed Spencer a million times over. After you pulled away, he was extremely flustered. He pressed his hand to his lips, as if he was trying to figure out what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, thinking that he was upset with you. In all fairness, you didn’t expect to kiss him either- you just couldn’t help yourself. This seemed to wake him from his daze.

“No, don’t apologize! I’ve, uh, I've been wanting to do that for awhile now,” he blushed, shoving his hands into his pockets. You smiled at this, feeling confident that you had made the right choice.

“Penelope is going to be thrilled,” you laughed, sitting on the floor and setting Cosette down to play with one of the cat toys you still had laying around.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked, sitting next to you with his legs crossed.

“Well… she told me that I should make a move because you never would, and I thought that it was impossible for someone like you to like me, but she seemed pretty adamant that you did,” you said, focusing on the animal in front of you rather than the man. This shocked him- you didn't think he would like you? That seemed insane to him, and he made sure you knew that.

“Are you kidding me Y/N? You’re so cool, you get along with people and you’re not awkward, and you’re so caring, I just… how could I not like you?” he asked, petting the kitten as well. Now it was your turn to blush. You didn’t know how you could be so lucky to have these people come into your life at the perfect time.

You and Spencer spent the rest of the day together, once again. You stole a few more kisses, and Spencer was even bold enough to initiate one or two, and your heart finally felt full. You knew things would be okay now- you had two new friends (and a furry roommate) to prove it.

#vicficwriterchallenge #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #aaron hotchner #hotch

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labomi · 4 years ago

Text

play by the rules [1]

Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings

notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!

series masterlist

There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.

With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.

To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.

You have no expectations that today will be any different.

With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.

“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.

Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”

You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest.

“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.

“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.

Yeah, no kidding.

“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”

Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.

After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”

Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard.

This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.

You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.

Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on.

On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.

Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.

It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.

So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.

You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.

You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.

You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.

You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home.

“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.

“I approved your new bodyguard.”

This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.

“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.

He nods at you.

Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”

In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.

A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.

Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”

Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”

You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”

Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles.

It’s time to get to work.

In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.

“Hey, Itadori.”

Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.

The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.

Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.

“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”

There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”

Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.

“Alright. You got it.”

“Thanks, Itadori.”

Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.

Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.

Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.

Nanami Kento, huh.

You flip over a page and continue reading.

What an interesting man.

“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”

Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.

“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”

“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”

“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”

“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”

Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.

Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death.

Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.

Simply put, Nanami is tired.

This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.

While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.

When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”

Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”

“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”

Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.

“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.

There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:

Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.

Once a job is finished, leave immediately.

Never get personally involved with a client.

And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.

#nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #mine #play by the rules

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Neo Got My Back (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : a domestic Jaehyun fluff scenario!

enjoy! you all deserve a ( good bed time) story.. though I hope this is good enough..

warning : mentions of past incident of almost dying but nah you lived :D, some slight cursing

tagging @yutahoes who might like this domestic jaehyun and ofc @neopalette

--- here goes nothing ----

It’s starting to get dark outside and your house still feels empty. You walk around the small room holding your phone while checking if there is any new message or a call. It’s been a long day for you to finish your works and take care of your dog that’s feeling a bit under the weather. You give up waiting for a reply and choose to just leave your phone and take care of your sick dog.

“Neo, come here.” You make yourself comfortable on the floor and pat your lap as the small Labrador walks slowly to you.

“Aw look at you, you’re still sick but feeling better?” you ask when the good boy wags its tail

“Are you excited to meet daddy?” you coo at your pal and he licks your cheek. You giggle and kiss him back “I also miss Jaehyun, don’t worry he is coming home tonight.”

Your dog seems to understand what you said, maybe its because he heard Jaehyun and home in one sentence and your tone sounds happy. If you are happy, then Neo is happy.

“Let’s try to eat some more, you’re not eating as much as usual and I don’t find that settling.” You reach on the dog food you’ve prepared before hand and try to feed Neo.

He eats, but without much energy. You’re sad actually to see him acting like this, at night he also whimpers some soft painful growl. You’re planning to take him to the vet if he’s whimpering again tonight.

“Are you sick or are you just acting up to see Jaehyun?” you tease your Labrador, who once were caught acting sick just to bring Jaehyun home. Jaehyun loves Neo to the point where he is willing to drop his business to come and hug this good boy. Maybe it’s because Neo once saved your life.

You told Jaehyun about the story where Neo saved you from almost drowning in the beach when you were a teenager. Since then, Jaehyun’s love to Neo sort of jumps over the moon. He said he ought Neo everything because thanks to Neo he got to meet you.

Your dog finishes his dinner and proceed to lay on his bed to sleep, maybe he is not feeling well. You put your worry aside and grab your phone again, checking if Jaehyun actually replied your message or called you.

Nothing. No messages, no calls. He must be busy in the office, you thought to yourself. Trying your best to stay calm and think of positive things. You trust Jaehyun, he won’t be home late for any other reasons other than caught up with work or stuck in the road.

Jaehyun sighs and glances on his watch again. It’s already one hour past his regular go home time and his phone battery died the moment he was about to tell you he will be home late.

Well the project he is working on this month has a change on the product launching date, so the team has to rush things up and make sure they’re ready for the launching next week.

His attempt to stay calm with tuning into his favorite radio channel fails. Not even his music playlist can calm him down. He knows you’re probably worried something bad happens to him without news or update from him to you and that is not settling in his heart.

“I am so sorrryyyy..” he mutters to himself when he sees the red lights and rows of cars all crawling in the night street. Why must the road be congested today?

He made it into your neighborhood and at that moment he realized something.

“Shit, I forgot to download the Netflix movie she wanted to watch.” Jaehyun internally curses himself. Works really preoccupied his mind to the point where he forgot. Well he hopes you won’t be mad and just let him download it for awhile to avoid pauses.

The lift ride to your room is not helping. With the lift keeps on stopping on different floor, he has to hold his patience and not cry in there when the door once again opens and he’s still halfway to your floor.

The man with a nice fitted suit finally steps out of the crowded lift. His face shows how tired he is, but the smile he has in his face upon imagining the face of his lover and faithful pal is bright enough.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath when he presses the six-digit combination lock to your home and once he presses the handle down, all of his exhaustion seems to leave his shoulder.

The familiar scent of your favorite aroma therapy candle greets him. Slowly Jaehyun takes off his shoes and when he did not see you or get a surprising jump from you, he knows you’re probably in your room doing works or maybe playing with Neo.

His steps resonate through the room, first the kitchen looks bright with a nice simple dinner nicely arranged on the table. Though it’s no longer steaming, Jaehyun can feel his stomach rumbles.

“(Y/n)?” he calls your name slowly after putting his working bag and suit aside. His hand unties his tie as he uncuffs his buttons and walk to look for you.

“Oh you’re asleep?” he talks to himself in whispers when he finds you laying down sleeping on the sofa with Neo cuddled next to you, despite the lack of space!

Gently he tucks your hair aside from your face and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sorry for being home late.”

You twist in your sleep and slowly open your eyes. Blinking your sleep away and gathering your energy to process what is this. Is this a dream or is this Jaehyun?

Your hand reach out to touch his cheeks and when you feel it you smile. “Hello love,” you yawn and hug his torso.

“I haven’t showered or changed.” he runs a hand on your hair and the other free hand is already rubbing Neo’s chin.

“It’s okay, you can shower later.” You mumble as you bury your face into his torso.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, definitely knowing he hasn’t eaten yet.

He nods “I am hungry.”

“I can heat the food for you. Take a bath quick.” You push him to the toilet. He laughs and ruffles your hair before leaving to take his towel and clothes.

You bring Neo with you to the kitchen, and start to heat the food again.

Seeing Jaehyun still try his best to smile in front of you despite his stress and tiring job, makes you feel grateful and that the only way you can pay him back is by giving him the attention and cares he deserves.

He returns with a brighter face and a comfortable tee shirt and sweats. You’re done with heating the foods and so you join him sitting on the other end of the table as you scoop him some foods into his plate.

“Thank you, you cooked this?” he asks while taking small bites on the foods. Knowing his best to not expect too much when you are a terrible cook.

You bite your lips “I tried a receipt from Taeyong’s website.” You look up at him with expectations, couldn’t be that bad right? You’ve been practicing for a while. Jaehyun nods and eats more “I guess you improved?” he chuckles when you let out a delightful clap

“I am glad!” you grin. “I am ready to be your housewife.” You tease him.

He giggles and reaches out for more kimchi “Who made this kimchi? So good.”

You roll your eyes “Mom.”

“Ah, learn from her first to make this good kimchi, then you can marry me.” He playfully pokes your cheek and you pout at him “You hold your words. If I succeed making that kimchi, you’re marrying me.”

He flashes his ring finger to you, the one with a couple promise ring he has with you and winks “I am more than ready to change this ring into a diamond one.”

You blush “Keep your words okay. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He nods “I am. I am going to keep my words. Right Neo? You are our witness.”

The dog barks and stays under the table accompanying the warm night both of you spend together.

“About not replying to your text, I am sorry my phone died, and I don’t bring my charger with me today.” He brushes his hair away from his eyes.

You nod “I knew it, you and your hobby of running out of batteries. I’m just afraid something bad happens.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s just we had to take over time to finish a project for next week. Sorry to keep you waiting.” He raises from the chair and brings his plates to the dish.

You quickly keep the remaining foods into the refrigerator while Jaehyun takes the gloves and starts to wash the sink.

“Ow poor you, did you finish it? Things are okay?” you lean on the counter next to him.

“Yes, I can go home because I finished my parts.”

“Good then,” you pat his shoulder “You must be tired, let’s-“

He cuts you in “About Netflix-“ he takes a sharp pause “I am so sorry we have to postpone watching A Whisker Away, I haven’t downloaded it yet.”

You smile and rubs his shoulder “Don’t worry, the film is not going to disappear! Let’s rest instead. You had a long day and I want to cuddle with you.”

Jaehyun smiles and jumps into your side, he hugs you and pulls the cover over you both “Okay, cuddle it is then! Come here, let me hug you until you beg me to stop.” He peppers you with raspberry kisses on your neck and arm and you giggle loudly.

“love you Jae!” you kiss him quick to which the other man smiles and kisses you back “And I love you most.”

end

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fanmoose12 · 4 years ago

Note

Anyways no thank you canon. What's ur fave levihan au?

i'm always happy to rant about aus, so thank you for indulging me, anon! and sorry in advance that post is going to be extremely long

modern!au✨✨✨

1. office!au - nothing beats it, really. work shenanigans, going to bar after work, spending lunch breaks together - ah, the beauty of mundane, you know? i actually had several fics written about office!au - you can read it here and here

2. highschool!au - who doesn't like a good, ridiculously fluffy fic about levihan as awkward teenagers? levi as a bad boy, levi as a captain of the football team and reluctant "king of the school"??? hange and levi as exhausted lovesick teachers??? possibilities are endless

3. detective!au - anyone who reads my fics now how much i love detective fiction. levi and hange working together to catch the bad guys..... hange trying to catch the bad guy aka levi...... levi as private eye who is hired by hange to help find the reason for strange happenings at her lab......

4. the vets as criminal? kinda like the guys from leverage series? erwin as the mastermind, hange as hacker, levi as thief, mike as hitter and nanaba as grifter??? literally clueless why no one has written it yet

fantasy!au✨✨

1. i've talked about this before, but, omg i'm obsessed with the idea of levi as a knight and hange as mage/scholar who hires levi to help find her a legendary shape shifting dragon aka eren

2. vampire!au - levi as a mysterious brooding vampire that hange wants to experiment at, hange as a charming vampire who seduces the clueless levi, hange as a vampire and levi as a vampire hunter...... or simply levi and hange being vampires together, destined to bicker until the end of times

historical!au - i'm a failed historian so i adore this kind of aus more than life itself

1. victorian era!au - hange as sherlock holmes kind of detective with moblit being her watson, who travels to a small town hiding a dark secret at the request of colonel erwin smith. she's to investigate a series of mysterious suicides that might not be suicides after all. erwin insists that hange and moblit are to stay in his manor, and, to help with the investigation, he gives hange his butler levi who is really much too skilled to be a simple butler (yes, i've spent too much time thinking about this au)

2. this is kinda specific (as if the others weren't) but renaissance era!au???? hange as a talented inventor or artist who falls for the servant levi. or! hange as an only child of the wealthy family who gets into a scandalous affair with levi - the famous thief from florence (this one is based on an image of levi climbing into hange's window in the middle of the night to steal a kiss. this image lives rent free in my mind tbh)

#that's all???? i can think of??? i'll add more if i remember something else :)

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years ago

Text

You guys know what?

Modern AU idea thingy where Din finally gets to meet Luke’s biker gang and yet somehow still thinks Luke killed a guy once and is on the run from the law after meeting those idiots???

Din meets them after he and Luke have been dating a while - officially dating, that is.

Not that confusing period of time where Din things like Din thinking Luke was inviting him out to watch a movie they both wanted to see because friends do that kind of thing, don’t they? And if they both realized they’d skipped lunch - Din had to deal with a stubborn kitchen sink leaking in one of the units, and Luke got suckered into talking about him teaching classes at her gym outside of the ones she let him and Obi-Wan hold there for their kids, for paying customers of hers.

Anyway, Luke knew a place nearby, if Din doesn’t have to get back to Grogu yet, and other such shenanigans.

Those times Luke thought Din was asking a buddy to keep him company at the some event or other with Grogu’s daycare/school, and you would not believe the amount of pictures Luke has saved on his phone of Grogu dressed as a sunflower, or the frog that one time, and Din is like, dying, because Luke is exactly his kind of idiot and anyway.

They cleared that one up and have been dating for a few months when Din goes to Luke’s to see him sitting on his couch with this look on his face. The kind of look you see on people in the movies when some important historical landmark is destroyed in front of them by invading aliens or they’ve somehow managed to survive Black Friday.

(Din was in the fucking trenches okay, worked retail for a while way back when, worked for a damned toy store, he has seen hell and lived to tell the tale.)

“Luke?”

Luke looks at Din, which is when Din sees Luke’s holding his phone. Thinks he got bad news? Maybe his family on the other coast, the one he struggles with sometimes, wants to share with Din because he loves them and he loves Din, but.

Complicated.

Din sits next to Luke, watches him carefully. Doesn’t want to push him, spook him, Telegraphs his intent when he takes Luke’s phone out of his hand and puts it on the coffee table, takes Luke’s hand in his and squeezes.

“Is something wrong?”

It takes a moment, but then Luke blinks, comes back from wherever he went -

“What?” he asks, and seems to realize that oh, hey, Din’s there. “Oh, uh. No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Kind of blurts out that last bit, and realizes it gives him and his current mental state away because he winces, gives Din this wobbly little smile.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says again, Din closer to believing it, that vise around his heart loosening -

“Wedge and the others want to meet you.”

Luke’s just blurting things out again, but it’s fine because Din is like !!! and also !!!

"Oh?” he says, because it’s obvious from what Luke’s told him about them that Luke also loves his very stupid, very dumb friends who ride motorcycles and are in a gang that have matching tattoos and jackets and patches and who knows what else, but murder is a a very real possibility. “When?”

Luke gives Din a look, because it’s kind of a joke between them now, the thing where Din thinks Luke killed a man once and is on the run from the law, but it also kind of isn’t, because Din.

“I promise you won’t have help them hide any bodies,” Luke says, which is great because Luke’s the only one Din will help when it comes to hiding bodies

(Well, and Grogu, obviously. Possibly Cara, but really only because she would be carrying the body with her and the neighbors might see, and anyway, yes.)

Din finds out Biggs and Wedge and the others do this thing once, maybe twice if things are going well for them, a year. Take a couple of weeks off to hop on their bikes and go on a road trip. Usually there’s a biker convention/gathering on the other end of the road trip, but this year?

Luke’s told them so much about Din and Grogu and this happy little life he’s built for himself out here they just absolutely have to check things out for themselves, you know? Make sure Luke’s okay, that Din is treating him right - Luke rolls his eyes as he tells Din about that part because he can take care of himself, and they know it, but still.

Anyway, this year they’re coming to see Luke, will be by in a few weeks, and sorry to freak Din out, but they can be a bit much, sometimes?

Anyway, anyway.

Din is quietly !!! about Luke’s old biker gang coming by to vet him. Like, the thing about not having a squeaky clean past, but he’s kind of a do-gooder.

(Boba thinks it’s hilarious the way people who come to his shop are wary around Din like he’s not the biggest softy in the world - look at how he dotes on his kid, you know? Also, marshmallow, but yeah, fine, bad boy you wouldn’t want to take home to mom, whatever.)

He almost, almost forgets about the upcoming visit, but then there’s a day he’s down at Boba’s shop. Picked Grogu up from daycare/school and dropped by to talk about covering for some of Boba’s people the next week when they hear bikes coming down the street.

Nothing to worry about because Boba’s bike shop? Place where bikes are taken to fixed and whatnot???

Only, huh, sure does seem to be a lot of bikes, you know? A lot of bikes all at once, even. And just as Boba gets this annoyed look on his face about the racket, Din gets a text from Luke.

Ignores Boba going out to see what all the commotion is when it stops outside of the shop and checks the text to see a simple, chilling message: we’re outside

He gets an equally shilling message a few seconds later: :DDDDDDDDDDDD

Din is like !!! because, well, that explains the bikes outside? But Boba yelling to Din there’s a biker gang outside that wants to meet him is also a clue, so.

Din looks over to where Grogu was quietly playing with his toys and is like oh, no, because Grogu is gone and Boba left the door open and he runs out to find him.

Not worried about Luke’s biker gang because Luke loves those idiots and anyone he loves that much can’t be bad, but his kid, okay, his kid is a goddamned terror.

Looks cute as hell, but even Luke agrees about Grogu being a terror.

(That whole thing about taking one to know one, Din assumes.)

When Din gets outside it’s to Boba giving him a look before he goes back inside to wrangle paperwork.

Grogu is sitting in front of Luke on his bike, and Grogu is now sporting a tiny bike helmet with the starbirds on either side that looks like Luke’s tattoo.

Also?

A tiny jacket that matches the one Luke wears sometimes when he’s riding his bike, that the other bikers surrounding Luke are wearing and Din is like.

His heart because that shit’s adorable as hell? But also, oh, no, his kid’s going to be in a biker gang like Luke and Din’s going to have to help them hide so many bodies. :(((((((((

And then it’s Luke introducing Din to his friends (also people who helped Luke and his family unravel this major conspiracy that went on for over twenty years and was on the news for forever and also everyone but Din seems to be aware of, but yeah) who are all :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD when Luke’s around to run interference, but the moment Luke’s out of the room and whatnot?

Wedge is a high-ranking military officer, as are most of the gang, and they have their own connections who wouldn’t rat them out to Luke if Din does something to hurt Luke, you know.

Just putting that out there, friend. :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

(Like, hey. Arguments and shit, they happen. But do something to break his heart, and he’ll have them to deal with, forget Leia and the others.)

But also, also.

They do like him, think it’s hilarious he thinks they’re a bunch of hardcore bikers or whatever, you know? They just happen to share a love of bikes, and friendship with Luke who they are super protective of, and also adore the hell of Grogu, as much as he adores them.

Also, though, also?

Din riding with Luke and Grogu goes with Wedge - “Din, relax. He’s as safe as he would be with me.” - on a ride on the roads outside of the city.

Gorgeous views and when they hit a wide open stretch of road they can see down for miles the others show off a little, switch positions and the whatnot so smoothly it’s obvious they’ve been riding together for years, know one another and how they think, react and so on.

Wedge and Grogu pull up alongside Luke and Din, and friendly insults are tossed back and forth and then Wedge guns it, and Luke glances back at Din, like are they really going to let him get away with that?

Which, no. No they are not, and then it’s this race between them, the rest of the Luke’s little biker gang (family) fanned out behind them.

Wedge and Grogu win of course, because Luke’s bike is carrying two full grown men while Wedge’s is carrying a tiny child and also Grogu.

Still, looking at the look on Grogu’s face, that huge, huge smile as Luke’s old biker gang high fives him and pats him on the back, the way Wedge puts him up on his shoulders and floats the idea of them teaming up from then on since he’s good luck -

Din could maybe understand if Luke would have let them win anyway.

But also, also, there being a lake or something out there where they decide to camp for a few days, Have tents set up and a barbecue pits and bonfire going, Grogu learning teaching Wedge and the others the correct way to roast marshmallows and build the perfect s’more while Din and Luke go for a last spin around the lake before it gets too late. Stop on a little rise over lookig the lake, smile at the boonfire on the other side, laughter drifting over the water to them and it’s like.

Din can’t be expected not to kiss Luke, you know? Pull Luke’s helmet off and smile at how happy he looks, lit up with it, and the worst case of helme hair Din has seen in his entire damn life -

“Rude, hurtful,” Luke accuses, but he’s laughing, and happy, and anyway.

Din kisses him, because he can’t not, and Luke seems to be on board with that whole line of thought because they do that for a while.

Don’t stop until their phones buzz at the same time - and Din has no idea how Wedge got his phone number, but the picture he sent him and Luke of Grogu about to shove a truly impressive multi-level s’more in his mouth while the others cheer him on is both adorable and horrifying.

“Oh my God,” Luke says, having the same realization as Din that a Grogu powered by that much sugar would surely be unstoppable.

They get to the others too late to stop things, of course they do, but it’s almost - almsot - worth it to see Wedge and the others being terrified by Grogu in the throes of major sugar rush.

The two of them certainly get excellent video of the whole disaster that will kep their black little hearts warm though the coldest, bitterest of winters.

While Grogu traumatizes Luke’s old biker gang Luke tells Din how they all met.

Luke who was this weird kid who’d made friends with Biggs right? Neither of them remember how that happened, assumed it came of growing up togehe i the same small town and such.

And then Biggs met Wedge and the others through school or something, college, and Luke came out to visit one summer. Had just finished fixing up his dad’s old bike and wanted to show Biggs, you know?

Wedge and the others impressed because Luke’s dad had good taste in bikes, and hey want to come up in a couple of weeks for this road trip they do?

Luke kind of figures it’s them being polite because he’s Bigg’s friend from back home, little brother kind of deal, but he really wants to go on the ride they tell him about.

Problem is, when he goes out to see them a few weeks later Biggs is in an accident, small one, not seriously hurt or anything, but his bike is going to be out of commission for a while and Biggs needs to take it easy until he heals up.

Luke was like, oh, man, that sucks, but at least Biggs is going to be okay, you know? Figures he and Biggs will hang out, maybe work on his bike while the others go on the road trip?

But Biggs and the others are like, no, dummy, they want you on the ride, go have fun!

Be young and stupid and do something that will convince the future love of your life that you killed a man and are on the run from the law!!1!

“...Something tells me that’s not what they said to you,” Din says.

Luke shrugs admits he’s paraphrasing things, but that’s the general drift.

Anyway, he gets to be friends with Wedge and the others, enough that they are like, 100% on board that one time they found out someone was to kill Luke and his family and the thing where his dad - and conequently Luke’s family - has been tangled up in a decades old conspiracy that involves world leaders and the safety of the entire world, and really.

“I met them a few months before all that happened,” Luke says, like he still doesn’t get why his friends would want to get involved, help him. “but we couldn’t have done it without them.”

Din still doesn’t know the whole story about that, whatever affected Luke so strongly he literally wandered the country for a while, a year, maybe more, it’s hard to tell, before he went to visit an old family friend in Obi-Wan and finally settled somewhere longer than a few weeks for the first time in years.

But he can wait until Luke tells him, if he ever does. Din doesn’t care about knowing the details, just enough to look after Luke when the idiot won’t do it for himself.

And it’s why Din lets Wedge and the others posture, let them threaten him and all that because they’re doing it to look out for Luke even now, know he’s the kind of idiot who won’t bother for himself.

He’s a little concerned at the way they’re obviously out to recruit his kid into their gang, which.

The bodies? But also Grogu would be safe with them, and that’s like. Strangely reassuring.

Still, his kid is years away from getting his license so he has some time to convince him he doesn’t want to be in a biker gang.

So of course, of course Wedge and the others have to make it harder for Din to do that when the next time Grogu’s ready to move up a bike size they send him a present.

Claim it’s to make up for all the birthdays and Christmases they missed before getting to meet Grogu in person.

It’s bike, yes. One that will grow with Grogu through the next several growth spurts, but?

It’s painted in the gang’s colors, has starbirds on it. Little goggles to replace the ones Wedge gave him the first time they came to visit, the strap worn through from Grogu handling them so much. A new helmet with the starbirds, and a tally mark for the race he won with Wedge, Luke explains, grin in his voice and apologetic shrug for Din because his friends, okay. Kind of impossible.

So far there’s just the one, but there’s space for more and Din is like. *SIGH* at the thought of his kid with a biker gang, even if it’s Luke’s old biker gang and they’re all idiots, just.

*SIGH*

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #modern au idea #i know nothing of biker gangs?#but i know me some idiots #so yes #/o\#long post #technically not a fic #vagrant fic

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years ago

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 17

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

That night, Scott and I were meeting with Derek to discuss what our next plan of action was. Scott had said that he had found Jackson walking around downtown where there was an old abandoned warehouse that was primarily used for raves. The only problem was tickets were sold out and way out of Scott’s high school budget.

“What’d you get from your dad?” I asked Stiles over the phone.

“We figured out that all of the victims knew each other in some way, Harris’ class.”

“What about Isaac’s dad?”

“We think maybe it has to do with Isaac’s older brother.”

“Camden right?”

“Right, he was killed in active duty but he would be the same age as all of the victims.”

“What does that have to do with Jackson though?” I asked, parking outside at the same time that Derek had pulled up with Isaac in tow.

“Not sure yet, but I’ll keep looking.”

“Alright, keep me posted.” I hung up, getting out of the car and walking with Derek and Isaac to the front door. Scott finished unlocking it, staring directly at Isaac.

“What’s he doing here?” Scott asked suspiciously.

“I need him.” Derek said.

“I don't trust him.”

Isaac scoffed, “Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you, either.”

“(Y/N) is indifferent.” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You know what? Derek doesn’t doesn’t really care.” Derek said sarcastically. We made our way inside the lobby. Isaac sat down in a rolling chair in the corner of the room. I was happy just leaning against the front desk while Derek was content with staying annoyed.

“Now, where’s the vet? Is he going to help us or not?” Derek asked.

“That depends...” The veterinarian came around the corner, crossing his arms over his chest, “Your friend, Jackson... Are we planning to kill him, or save him?”

“Save him.” Scott and I said while Derek said: “Kill him.”

Scott stared Derek down, “Save him.” He looked back at his boss, “Save him.” Happy with that answer, we were brought back into the operating room. He placed small bottles in front of us on the operating table. Being back here reminded me of the day Derek almost died. Sensing my distress, Derek pulled me closer to his side.

Ever curious, Isaac reached out to touch one of the bottles. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his wrist before he made contact. Both alphas stared him down.

“Watch what you touch.” Derek warned. Isaac backed away, turning his attention to Deaton.

He leaned against the table, “So, what are you, some kind of witch?”

“No.” Deaton said drolly, “I'm a veterinarian.” He went back to searching the cabinets for more vials.

“Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin.” He said.

“We're open to suggestions.” Derek sighed.

“What about an effective offense?” Isaac asked.

“We already tried. I nearly took its head off, and Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up.”

“Has it shown any weaknesses?” Deaton asked. Derek and I shared a glance.

“Well, one: it can't swim.” He said.

“He acted like the water burned.” I added.

“Does that go for Jackson as well?”

“No. He's the captain of the swim team.” Scott said, leaning back against the wall.

Deaton looked over all of us, “Essentially, you're trying to catch two people: a puppet, and a puppeteer.” He pulled a metal medallion from a drawer, holding up and flipping the sides. He placed the medallion on the table, “One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?” Deaton was referring to the latest victims. A married couple, pregnant with their first child. While the husband had been killed on the scene, the wife had been killed in the hospital.

“I don't think Jackson could do it.” Scott said, “His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else.”

“How do you know it's not part of the rules?” Isaac asked from the corner of the room, “The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies, too.”

“Does that mean your father was a murderer?”

“Wouldn't surprise me if he was.” Isaac said grimly.

“Hold on-” Deaton interrupted, “The book says they're bonded, right?” Derek nodded Deaton grabbed a glass bottle of black powder, the label read Mountain Ash, “What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the Kanima” He opened the vial, making a circle around the coin with it, “Also affects its master?”

“Meaning what?” Isaac asked.

“Meaning we can catch them.” Scott looked back, mostly at Derek, “Both of them.”

Walking through the halls after lacrosse practice, I didn’t think I would see anyone. But when I heard the sound of an angry individual, I wanted to check it out. I turned the corner, seeing Coach Lahey with a young kid backed against the wall near the boys bathroom.

“You didn’t say anything, did you? Huh, you little punk.” He said through his teeth.

“No...” The kid whimpered. This wasn’t right. Why the hell was Coach Lahey getting in this kids business.

I rushed up to them, “There you are.” I grinned. Coach Lahey and the kid looked at me, “C’mon, mom’s waiting for us in the car.” I held a hand out of the kid. He looked between Coach Lahey, then me before quickly taking my hand.

“Thanks for finding him, Coach Lahey.” I smiled, tilting my head to the side, “My mom’s been really worried.” Coach Lahey stood up straight.

“Well, you’re welcome.” He mumbled, turning on his heels and walking towards the pool. I held the kid’s hand tightly, walking him through the school.

“You okay?” I asked, looking down at him. He nodded, keeping his eyes towards the ground. He was practically trembling.

“Lahey’s pretty scary, huh?” I asked.

“Yeah.” I leaned over to look him in his eyes, they were pale blue.

“Well, if he ever corners you like that again, just tell him that your big sister is waiting for you with Coach Finstock. Lahey might be mean, but Finstock is crazy.” I smiled, “What’s your name, kid?”

“Matthew.”

The next morning, Stiles drove Scott and I to the high school seeing as my car was still in the shop. We looked over and saw Matt locking his bike to the bike rack. Matt for sure had tickets. We got out of the car, walking towards the building.

“There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?” Scott asked.

“It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret.” Stiles said, gripping the shoulder of his backpack.

“Even if it wasn’t a secret, we couldn’t afford them anyway. I would get them but my parent’s estate isn’t settled yet. If it was, do you think I would be working as an assistant coach?” I said. Working with Coach was a blessing and curse.

Matt walked up to us, “Hey... Either of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?” I had completely forgotten that Matt had been there for the attack too, but he seemed to miss seeing Jackson as a lizard man.

“Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt.” Stiles said evasively.

Matt narrowed his eyes, “I-I had a concussion...”

“Well, no one got seriously hurt.”

“I was in the ER for six hours!”

“Hey, do you want to know the truth, Matt?” Stiles snapped irritably, “Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now.” He bent over, holding his hand above the ground. I rolled my eyes, grabbing him back the strap of his bag and pulled him back up.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked sincerely.

“Yeah, I'm fine now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either?” Matt asked.

“Are they still selling?”

“Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's gonna be there.” He started to walk away.

“I’ll tell coach to take it easy on you at practice!” I called, he held up a hand, continuing his walk inside.

“I don't like him.” Stiles grumbled, staring daggers into the back of Matt’s head.

It was time for afternoon practice, which meant explaining a few things to Coach.

“Where in the hell did you go last game, (Y/N)? You just disappeared.” His eyes were somehow even wilder. I should probably tell him to look into an endocrinologist. We hadn’t gotten a chance to talk this morning since morning practice was about drilling new plays and him asking where Jackson was every fifteen minutes.

I rubbed the back of my neck, “I’m sorry, Coach. It’s just a little hard to explain.”

“No, having to explain to your wife that you lost her favorite testicle is hard, explaining where you went during the semi-finales? not hard.” At this point I think Coach was just a little too comfortable telling people things.

After processing and hopefully blacking out what he just said, I came up with a lie that would definitely make him drop the topic.

“I uh started my period.” I lied. Finstock closed his mouth and nodded.

“Say no more.” I gave him an awkward smile, putting on the eye mask and heading out into the locker room. It was easier to find Scott and Stiles than it was before since I could pick out their scents.

“Hey, are you sure about this?” Stiles asked.

“Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job. So, what do you think he's going to do this time?”

“Be there to make sure it happens.”

“Can anyone tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?” Coach Finstock’s door flew open, slamming against the wall.

“I thought I told you to keep an eye on him!” Stiles leaned in to Scott.

“Stilinski!” Coach shouted, “Jackson?” Was he not aware of the restraining orders?

“Sorry, Coach... I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him...” He said nervously, causing me to elbow him in the side.

“Oh, and when was that?”

“Last time I saw him... was definitely the time I saw him last...” He said evasively.

“Yeah. Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay?”

“Sure, Coach.” Danny was near, maybe a couple feet. I hadn’t really “seen” him since he was attacked at the nightclub. He was another victim that didn’t make any sense. Danny hadn’t seen anyone get murdered by Jackson, while I had definitely watched Jackson attack people.

“That goes for all of you.” Coach’s shoes squeaked against the floor as he turned back to his office, “I should be coaching college.” He mumbled under his breath, slamming his door shut.

“Sooo Danny.” Stiles said in his smooth voice, or at least I think he meant for it to be smooth, “Got any extra tickets for the secret party this weekend?”

“Sorry, but I only got two myself.”

“What-- do you even have a date yet?” I smacked Stiles’ in the back of the head blindly. Still accurate.

“I'm working on it.” He said, clearly offended.

“Okay, okay... Hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence, and just-” Danny walked off.

“How do you two losers even survive?” Isaac’s voice appeared.

“What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling.” Scott said. Two players were walking by, talking about the tickets they scored.

“Isaac,” I grinned, “Be a dear, would you?” I motioned my head towards the players’ general direction.

“...Wait here, boys.” Isaac walked off.

“What is he gonna-” Scott said before being cut off by the sounds of scuffling and shouting.

“Ow. Oh, my-” Stiles commented, ”Yup, that's excessive....That'll bruise.”

“Ow.” Scott winced.

“Wow, okay...” Stiles said grimly. I heard the sound of paper against their jerseys when Isaac came back.

“Enjoy the show.” Isaac said, walking back to his locker.

After practice, we made a stop by the vet office. We were inside the operating room, watching Deaton grab a vial of clear liquid from a cabinet and a syringe.

“Ketamine?” Scott asked.

“It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time.” He set the syringe and vial on the operating table, turning back to get the familiar bottle that held the dark mountain ash.

“This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles-- only you.” He set the bottle on the table in front of Stiles

“Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure... Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?” Stiles looked at me.

“Don’t look at me, I can’t do this.” I held my hands up.

“Why can’t she do this?”

“It's from the Mountain Ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble...”

“Okay, so, then, what?” Stiles asked, “I just spread this around the whole building, and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?”

Deaton nodded, “They'll be trapped.”

“Doesn't sound too hard.” Scott shrugged. I leveled him a look. Wasn’t he the one to say don’t say something was too easy?

“Not all there is...Think of it like gunpowder-- it's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles.”

Stiles started at the vet in bewilderment, “...If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that.”

“Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind, and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish.”

“Force of will...” Stiles whispered.

“If-if this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it.” Stiles hummed and exhaled loudly.

After getting a few more things ready at the house, Stiles and I were about to get into Roscoe when Uncle Noah pulled up in the driveway. I paused, watching him get out. He seemed down and lost. The other thing I noticed was that his sheriff badge was missing.

"Hey! Can't talk gotta run." Stiles said without looking. I grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt, causing him to be jerked back. He looked at his father, taking him in.

“Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait-- what's wrong?” Stiles’ voice stopped Uncle Noah from going further up the driveway.

“Nothing.” Uncle Noah said evasively, not meeting either of our eyes.

“Oh...Where's your gun?”

“I left it at the station... along with my badge...” He breathed out. My mouth dropped open, then closed quickly.

“What?” We asked in unison.

“It's all right. You know what? We'll talk about this later. You both seem like you’re going somewhere.”

“Dad-”

“Don't worry about it.” He started walking towards the house again.

“Dad!” Stiles shouted. Uncle Noah stopped and turned back towards us.

He sighed, “It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order filed against him by one of the town's most respected attorneys did not reflect well on the county...”

“They fired you?” Stiles asked, stunned. I looked down at my feet, I couldn’t look at either of them. Stiles was going to blame himself for everything and that wasn’t a Stiles that I ever wanted to see again. But what were we supposed to think? This whole situation with Scott was starting to affect home life. He shouldn’t have asked Stiles to steal that van.

“Nah. Look, it's-it's just a leave of absence. It's-it's temporary.”

“Did they say it was temporary, or...?”

“Actually, no.” He sighed, “You know, I- It's fine. Don't worry about it, though.” He started walking back towards the door when I looked back up at him, “Hey. We're going to be fine.”

“Dad, I don't get it... “ Stiles was beginning to feel overwhelmed, “Why-why aren't you angry at me?”

“I don't know. Maybe I just don't want to feel any worse than I already do by having to yell at my son in front of my daughter who I’m sure is tired of any violence...” He didn’t yell, but his words still stung. Not intentionally though. We watched him walk into the house, a broken man.

“Oh, shoot.” Stiles mumbled.

After picking up Scott, we parked outside the warehouse of the party. There were a bunch of people outside waiting to get in, oblivious to the events that were going to take place. Stiles opened the back of the Jeep, pulling out huge sacks of mountain ash that were given to him by Deaton. He didn’t look okay, he had been tense our whole drive over here.

“You okay?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, why?” He avoided the question.

“You just didn't say anything the whole way here...”

“No, I'm fine. Just grab the other bag.” Scott and I shared a glance.

“I can't.” Scott said sheepishly, “Remember, Deaton said you have to do it alone...”

“Okay, this plan is really starting to suck!”

“No. Not here. Not now!” Scott groaned.

“What?” Stiles asked as Scott ran towards the main entrance. I followed close behind.

Scott and I went our separate ways once inside, apparently Allison was here which completely ruined the plan because she really wasn’t supposed to be. While he was talking with Allison, I kept Matt distracted.

“Hey.” He smiled, “You got tickets.”

“I did! Took some convincing but I’m pretty good at getting what I want.” I smirked.

“Really?” He said, narrowing his eyes in a playful way. I inhaled deeply, getting the familiar scent of spearmint gum.

“Yeah. Like I can get a stick of your gum.” I held out my hand. He dug in his pocket and produced a stick of gum.

“Not bad, not bad at all.” I took the gum from his hand and started chewing it. I looked around him, seeing Allison coming back. She seemed a little upset, so I decided to bail.

“I’ll see you around.” I waved and walked back into the crowd. I walked around the best I could, pushing through sweaty bodies, grabbing a water bottle while I was walking through. I hadn’t seen Jackson yet so that was both good and bad. We needed a visual of him. Soon enough Isaac and Erica were supposed to be here, Derek probably wouldn’t though.

“Derek definitely isn’t a party person.” I took a long swig out of the bottle.

“But I was.” I froze, looking over my shoulder. Michael... but how?

“Don’t you remember?” He stepped forward, “Hm? My parties lasted well into the early morning and we always had a good time, didn’t we?”

“Am I? You wouldn’t know, would you? Because after your little mutt boyfriend clawed my jugular and left me to die, burying me under the dirt, you didn’t check, did you? DID YOU?!” I decided now was the time to run. I don’t know if I was drugged or if he was really there but I wasn’t waiting to find out. My heart felt like it was going a million miles a hour and my eyes burned with tears. This wasn’t like Michael’s apartment, Derek wasn’t outside in the parking lot to save me. Even when I was supposed to be so powerful, why did I still feel so helpless? I found a corner of the warehouse and pressed my back against the cool bricks. Trying to regulate my breathing. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm down.

“You’re dead...” My voice trembled, the water dropping from my hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I shook my head, “Just thought I saw someone.” As a group, we found Scott, going into a secluded area where he showed us the syringe filled with ketamine. Since Scott had to keep the hunter’s at bay, it was Isaac’s job to stick Jackson.

“(Y/N)?” A soft voice asked. My eyes shot open, seeing Isaac and Erica staring at me.

“Are you okay?” She asked. Letting out a shaky breath, I nodded.

“Why me?” He asked.

Scott sighed, “Because I've got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan.” Isaac didn’t look completely convinced, “Okay, look-- you better do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. In the neck is probably going to be the easiest. So, you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on the trigger. Be careful.” He added intently.

Isaac scoffed, “Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him.”

“No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt.” Scott took off through the crowd to find the Argents. I sent Isaac and Erica off to find Jackson, keeping behind them at a safe distance. I made sure to check all the surroundings as I walked, making sure that Michael didn’t show up again. No, he wouldn’t. He’s dead. Very dead.

Pain in my side made me wince, squeezing my eyes shut.

Derek slammed his body into the side of a concrete beam outside the warehouse, keeping Boyd close to him. Hunter’s gunfire ricocheting off the concrete.

Gasping, I opened my eyes, looking over in the direction that Isaac and Erica had gone. They had found him. Erica was using her looks and her body, grinding against Jackson’s front. Isaac came up behind her, dancing with the two.

“Keep your eyes on Isaac and Erica.” Derek’s voice echoed through my head.

“What about you and Boyd?”

“We’ll be fine.” I guess that answered that question. As I began walking towards the group, I tensed up. The familiar pain of electricity shocked through my system. But it wasn't’ me who was getting the zap, it was Derek. When I opened my eyes again, Isaac and Erica were on the ground. Jackson still stood there, staring at me with eyes that were solid like stone.

“You won’t stop me.” He growled in a disembodied voice. Jackson took off quickly. I rushed forward to Erica first, who was breathing erratically. She had this reaction before to Jackson’s venom, it seemed that it triggered her epilepsy. I kneeled down beside her, turning her on her side.

“Erica.” I said, trying to get her to look at me, “Erica, you need to breathe. Look at me.” Isaac reached out, trying to make a grab for the syringe that had been dropped, but it got kicked away. Isaac struggled through the crowd, trying to grab the syringe. Once Erica’s breathing regulated, I helped her to her feet.

“Come on, you’re okay.” I said, reassuring her and myself. I watched Isaac finally inject the ketamine into Jackson’s system. In the chaos of the party, no one saw Jackson drop and get dragged away. We followed Isaac into a small room of the main.

“You get out to Stiles, I need to help Derek.” I ran out the back door, seeing a hunter taking aim at Derek. I roared, knocking the weapon out of his hand and shoving him to the ground. I looked back to see Chris and Gerard staring. I was breathing heavily, fangs poking from my lips. Chris was holding a gun on me, one of my father’s guns. We seemed to have a silent agreement as I ran to reach Derek and Boyd.

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Gerard glared.

“It jammed.” Chris said, his voice hardened.

I found Derek and Boyd’s cover, seeing the blood on their clothes. In the distance, I picked up a voice, one I didn’t recognize.

"They're going to think it was an accident. Like you had an asthma attack and couldn't get to your inhaler in time. Your school records shows that you have a very severe case." Scott was in trouble, Derek and I shared a look.

"I think I stopped healing." Boyd swallowed thickly, holding a bleeding wound on his side.

“The bullets. They're laced with wolfsbane. You gotta go. Take the car.” He handed me the keys to the Camaro.

“What about you?”

“I have to find Scott. Go. Go!” He shouted, I helped Boyd to his feet, helping him across the parking lot away from the hunters and out of sight. I helped him get inside the backseat and got into the driver’s seat. As I was about to start the engine my blood went cold.

"Jackson, is that you?" Stiles’ voice. I looked back at Boyd in the rear view mirror. He was in rough shape and needed to get back to the depot. But Stiles.... Goddamit, I hate stupid trolley cart problems. I would hate myself forever if something happened to him but Boyd needed help now. I started the engine and sped out of the parking lot.

“Boyd? Talk to me, buddy.” I glanced at him. He seemed drowsy, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Come on, stay with me!” I pressed my foot down on the gas, going well over the speed limit.

I screeched to a halt outside Deaton’s clinic, the vet was already outside, ushering us both inside.

“I think you got more wounded on the way.” I huffed, laying Boyd down on the operating table.

“That’s why I’m always prepared.” He said, grabbing a pair of long pliers and a bottle used for flushing out wounds.

After listening to Boyd scream out for a while, he was finally free of all the mountain ash so he was able to heal himself. I sent him back out to the car to sleep. I decided that in between the chaos, I could ask Deaton about the bottle.

“That is definitely the spell and it was meant to stick.” He pointed to the lock of my hair inside the bottle, “By adding your hair, it made this spell specific to you in a powerful way.” He handed the bottle back to me, “It’s probably why you haven’t gotten your memories back.” He rolled up his sleeves and started washing his hands.

I sighed, “Great.” I leaned back against the brick wall, “So there isn’t anything I can do but live like this.”

Deaton looked back over his shoulder and sighed. He turned off the sink and turned around, wiping his hands on a paper towel.

“The supernatural world works in mysterious ways. You never know, they may come back slowly or all at once.”

“I’ve gotten bits and pieces. The name of Derek’s mother and a girl I was friends with but that’s not enough. And it’s not just me who’s suffering because of it. I can’t imagine how Derek feels.”

He for thought a moment, “Maybe he can share some of his memories with you. Werewolves are able to do that, you know. With just the simplest touch.” The door to the clinic brought both of our attention towards the lobby, “We’ll talk later.” We both rushed out to help Derek who was carrying a very unconscious Scott.

“Wolfsbane gas.” Derek said, laying him down on the operating table. Deaton worked hurriedly, grabbing a gas mask hooked up to an oxygen tank. Eventually, he started breathing again. I let out a smile of relief and brushed his curls off his forehead.

“Thank you.” Derek said to Deaton.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack.” I sat back in a chair beside Derek. Deaton excused himself from the room. Derek was tense and rigid, his emotions running high. I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping my touch would make him breathe a little easier.

“Erica and Isaac okay?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes.

“They’re okay.”

“And Stiles?” He nodded.

“I told him to go back home.” He glanced down at me, “I know it was hard for you to leave him there. But I’m sure Boyd is grateful to be alive right now.” He paused, “It was Victoria Argent who attacked Scott.”

“Allison’s mom?”

“I bit her.” The confusion on my face made him elaborate, “She lived through the bite.” For a hunter, the bite was always a death sentence. Whether it killed them, or their group did.

“I know you did it to save Scott... But something tells me you did it on purpose, as a battle strategy.”

A small smile pulled at his lips, “That wasn’t my intent. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t good for our side.”

“Good? Derek, Chris was the only person who was holding back. Now that they have to kill his wife... I don’t think he will follow the code either.”

He turned to look at me, “Then it’s time we teach you how to fight. Unleash the beast.”

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

Read part 18 here!

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dumblydork · 3 years ago

Text

Summer

Hello! I am SO sorry for having gone MIA all of a sudden on Tumblr and Ao3, but life caught up once exams ended and I was in a deep, dark place for sometime. But not to worry, because I'm definitely better now, and finally got over my writer's block/unmotivation (if that's a word) and what better way to start off writing again if not with a Hinny fic?

As usual, I hope you enjoy this sort of non-magic alternate universe, maybe a modern meet-cute of sorts? From the one and only Ginny Weasley's perspective, of course.

Again, you can find my Ao3 right here where I post quite fluffy Wolfstar one shots!

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The summer was harsh in Cornwall, which was where Ginny's family home was situated. She went up to university in London, just having recently finished her second year in Drama. Last summer, she was on a long trip with her best friend Luna, and hadn't been able to make it down to be with her family. But this year, she fully intended to spend as much time as possible with them, even if her older twin brothers were being annoying arses.

"Fred, George, just wipe the bloody tables already!" She screamed, exasperated, even though the twins were not even 20 feet away. The only unique cafe-by-day/restaurant-by-night was owned by Ginny's family. It was a quaint place, serving the best coffee to tourists and locals alike, along with not such a sharply contrasted cosy restaurant theme the place adopted when the sun went down.

And currently, the cafe was a few hours away from opening as a restaurant, and was left in the care of Ginny and her older twin brothers. She had another older brother after the twins, but he was off with his university friends (being an year older) and had even MORE older brothers ranked above the twins. Her oldest brother Bill, worked as a vet in New York, also where the second brother Charlie worked as an art curator. The third brother Percy was currently obtaining his PhD in some sort of Math which Ginny was too 'humanities' to understand (in Percy's own words, that subject bigot). The brothers after Percy, twins Fred and George were as stated, being annoying prats but worked in some sort of prank shop, much to their mother and Percy's chagrin (Between us and her, Ginny never understood why Percy felt a need to voice this opinion, because if Ginny also opened her mouth to provide an opinion on every single thing under the sun, working in a prank shop was perfectly acceptable).

Finally the last brother Ron went to university in Devon, having recently finished his degree in Astronomy combined with Philosophy, and that was it. Growing up with 6 older brothers, Ginny was significantly hot tempered, a trait often made fun of because of her (and her whole family's) flaming red hair.

"Oh for God's sake the two of you, just shut up if you don't want to do any work!" She finally snapped, causing two identical pairs of brownish eyes to look at her.

"Okay!" They smirked, before actually rushing away to the back of the cafe. Ginny sighed, wondering for the tenth time that afternoon why she bothered to come down here in summer. The twins, despite being her favourite, were useless gits-

"Ginny! Where are Fred and George?" Her mother's voice flew out from the front of the store, removing Ginny from her trail of thoughts, where Molly stood with hands laden with grocery bags. Her father, Arthur, she saw outside from the huge floor to ceiling windows, was unloading the boot of their car of more paper bags.

"They ran away after being absolutely useless gits." She muttered angrily, almost aggressively wiping a glass and placing it on the shelves behind her.

Her mother let out a long suffering sigh, but nevertheless joined Ginny in tidying up the cafe. "They're quite irresponsible." Molly sighed, wiping down tables at a superhuman speed.

"Mum if it's okay, can I join Ron and his friends at the party happening down at the beach?" Ginny asked apprehensively. The question had been burning at the back of her mind since the morning when Ron actually invited her to the beach party being thrown by one of the local boys. He had brought his uni friends and girlfriend down from Devon, and Ginny had already met Hermione, Ron's soulmate, if their behaviour was anything to go by.

Being in an all girls school, Ginny practically grew up with her girlfriends gushing about boys and celebrities, often almost swooning like some Victorian women when boys from the neighbouring school passed by their grounds.

However, Ginny was smart- if having six brothers had taught her anything, it was that boys were annoying, and only a few handful of them were actually decent. But now, looking at how close Ron and Hermione were, Ginny was starting to long for her own sort of romance. It had been over a year since she broke up with her first and only boyfriend Dean. She was convinced the breakup had solidified her stance on relationships, which was that relationships were okay but there was no need to actively look for one. Ron and Hermione's lovey dovey-ness was revolting, but uncharacteristically had Ginny pining away for her love story as well. Not that she'd ever admit it, of course.

"Well there's nothing really to do, and if it's busy there's a lot of pairs of hands to help. So sure, go on." Molly finally said and Ginny could almost fist pump, if it wasn't for the wet rag she was holding.

The evening rolled around quicker than Ginny anticipated, and before she knew it, her and Hermione stood in Ginny's small attic bedroom, getting ready for the party. "So, tell me, how was Dean?" Hermione asked, looking behind at Ginny through the mirror, where the younger girl stood blinking away extra mascara.

"Oh well, he was alright. Nothing like fireworks or sparkle." Ginny flushed slightly as she processed her own words. Oh, how she sounded like a lovestruck 12 year old.

However, Hermione didn't seem to mind. She simply grinned. "I'm sure with the right person it's more than just sparkles and fireworks." Hermione winked, and Ginny wondered if there was more to the statement than she understood. However, Hermione was already done with the topic, now going on about her course and what plans Ginny had for after university.

They walked downstairs, finding Ron standing at the door, his eyes glued to Hermione as she walked down the stairs. To be fair, Hermione definitely looked stunning- even if it was for a casual beach party. Ginny noted slightly bitterly to herself how the simplest pair of jeans and top could make one gorgeous to the right eyes. She breathed deeply as Ron wrapped an arm around his girlfriend, the girlfriend in question smirking back at Ginny as she followed them. Okay, very confusing.

The walk to the beach from the cafe was short, and there was already a bonfire going in the distance, with some upbeat song playing from someone's phone. "So, where is Harry and everyone else?" Hermione asked, looking around. Ron still had a hand in Hermione's as the two of them looked around for who had to be Ron's friends. "Neville!" Ron suddenly yelled good naturedly, as a tall guy walked towards the three of them with a big grin on his face.

"Ron! Hermione!" Neville hugged each of them in turn, smiling broadly at Ginny.

"Neville, this is my younger sister Ginny. Ginny, that's one of our friends from uni, Neville." Ron introduced. Ginny waved, which was returned by Neville.

"Is your girlfriend here as well?" Hermione asked, to which Ron added, "Oh, do we finally get to meet the elusive To-Be-Mrs. Longbottom?"

Perhaps having noticed Ginny's confusion, Neville clarified. "These two here haven't had the chance to meet my girlfriend- well, fiance as of a week, yet. In answer to your question Ron, no, she unfortunately couldn't make it. But she's been inviting the two of you over for dinner since ages." He turned to Ron.

"Actually yeah, we should definitely go. Anybody seen Harry?" Ron asked, looking around the small crowd of people. Ginny moved away from the couple to sit next to the fire, and grab a cold beer in the process.

She had just made herself comfortable slightly away from the warm fire when a figure sat down next to her, causing shivers to go up her left side. "Hi, you must be Ginny." The figure spoke and Ginny looked to the source of the voice, to be met by the unruliest mop of black hair she had ever seen on a human, and twinkling green eyes. In the soft light from the fire, they glowed slightly amber.

"I am. But I don't think I've met you?"

Ginny didn't get an answer because Ron's voice interrupted them. "Harry, you came!" He shouted, the figure (Harry) getting up to tackle Ron in a hug.

"Of course I did, getting sloshed at your best mate's beach party is always infinitely better than home." Harry grinned, and Ginny started to feel her heart race.

"I see you've met Ginny." Ron said, sitting down in between her and Harry.

"I just did, yeah." Harry smiled mischievously. They had moved closer to the fire, and in the brighter light, Harry's face was more distinct. And boy was he fit. The hair, even though messy, was not unattractive (quite the opposite), and his face was slightly round, made rounder by the permanent grin which seemed to reside there. And his eyes were covered by round glasses, reflecting off the orange from the fire.

"Well anyway, Gin, this is Harry, my best mate from university. He just made it down here to Cornwall." Ron said, and suddenly got up to fetch more drinks, but Ginny didn't miss the glares Hermione was shooting Ron from across the fire.

"Do you reckon we go a bit further away?" Ginny, being so busy interpreting the look Hermione was giving Ron, hadn't noticed the boy had shifted closer to her.

"Uh, sure." She found herself slightly tongue tied, staring into green amber.

"Brilliant, Let's go?" Harry got up, and lent Ginny a hand. She took it, and a slight warmth, probably not from the fire, ran down her spine when their hands remained connected.

They walked away from the party, not too far that a search team would be required, but just far enough to hold a conversation in peace. The music slightly played in the background, a slower guitar theme, and Ginny turned around to see Ron and Hermione swaying around the fire, the brightest smile settled on both their faces. Ginny simply let out a happy sigh, attention darting down to entwined hands.

"So, Ron tells me you're in drama?" He asked, as they sat down near the water with their legs bent, just that the waves touched their toes and washed back.

"Yes, I am, final year now. Although I haven't heard a lot about you?" Ginny teased. Harry simply chuckled, a sound she realised she found much more attractive than she should have.

"Well it's a shame since I am his best mate but, Harry Potter, third year medic, at your service." He lightly bowed his head, eliciting a giggle out of the girl.

"Medicine huh, that definitely sounds hectic." She commented, as her fingers drew an absent minded pattern in the sand separating their sitting figures.

"I also captain the football team." He replied, eyes shining with humor. Ginny looked up, wondering if it was a coincidence that the man she found extremely fit also checked off all her criterion of 'boyfriend'.

"Oh- well I don't know how you found the time to be here, what with studying and football." Ginny smiled. Harry looked back at her, eyes boring into her brown ones. "Only because I was told someone stunning was going to be here." He said in a lower voice. Ginny flushed under the stare.

"I'm sure having those feelings for your best mate's girlfriend is not a good idea." She teased, feeling some confidence seeping into her. Harry scooted closer, placing a hand on Ginny's.

"And what if I said they weren't for the girlfriend, but for the sister?" His eyes darted down to her lips, her own pulse quickening. Then continuing with her sudden confidence, she unconsciously leaned in, her lips just millimeters away from Harry's. "The sister would definitely like that because she thinks you're extremely fit too." Ginny whispered, her lips just brushing against Harry's before he closed the distance completely.

The two of them sat there, away from the party, lips moving in slow sync as if they were doing the communicating. Getting to know each other in silent movements, a dance of attraction and dominance. Thee music faded in the background, as behind her closed eyes Ginny saw stars, and faintly made out the sound of fireworks exploding behind them. Not that she'd admit it to anyone, of course.

But in that moment, it was just her, Harry and the cool water playing with their feet. And when they finally pulled apart, Ginny secretly swore that she saw her reflection in green pools glow and sparkle.

Not that she'd ever admit it, obviously.

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TAGLIST: @amy-herondale-chase // @purplepygmypuffskein // @ginnypxtter // @alwaysmagica1 // @norakelly // @her-blazing-look //

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Okay, I hope you guys enjoyed that! I wrote that when I was half asleep, so I'm not even sure if most of it makes sense haha.

As usual, if you want to join the taglist and be notified whenever I write a new Hinny story (which will be much more frequently now), please interact with the pinned TAGLIST post on my account!

Thank you for reading, and please interact with the post! Reblogs are always appreciated but likes and comments are just as amazing! Loads of virtual hugs xxx

#hinny #alternate universe #harry potter #headcanon #harry x ginny #ginny weasley #romance #au #fiction #beach #summer #party #okay out of tags #writing #ao3 writer #taglist

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