#actually that's pat i can see her being more laxed and taking them out for pizza while pat is like need to eat healthy

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was. 

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while. 

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made. 

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it. 

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” 

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[colins-bridgerton]

top 10 stargirl characters (as voted by my followers)

8.) barbra whitmore-dugan

[zaynesplushiekiller]

Hi! Can you please do a headcanon about survivor s/o who is extremely shy, scared & the event of the oletus Manor with memory/little girl, hastur, Jack & luchino pls. Also t for the headcanon of little girl/memory is 100% PLATONIC PLS!

alriight, i hope i portrayed the shy survivor well! im always a little hesitant to write about them cause im afraid itll be like... overly cliche? hope you enjoy! (✯ᴗ✯) also im so excited about luchino I LOVE THAT GUY!! i've included: Memory, Hastur, Jack, and Luchino -

Memory: the little girl herself is really quiet and, honestly? kind of nervous around new people. I mean, imagine this poor kid who's been thrown to this. I think you guys would get along great. immediate parental-figure to her tbh. everyone in the damn manor is. this kid is literally never going to get away from the "see when I was your age-" kind of thing. but you? she's relaxed around you. you still make sure she's safe, but with your quiet demeanor, she feels like she can be a little more lax with her... dumb kid stuff. you're not going to be loud, or confront her on anything unless its life-threatening. she likes it! and maybe takes a little bit of an advantage of it. if you say something is okay, then she's gonna flaunt it to everyone who tells her it isn't. she likes baking with you, its a quiet activity that doesn't require anyone else nearby. you don't need to talk to anyone but her, and, honestly? she does the majority of the talking anyway. she likes you better than most adults! you just let her talk and don't tell her that eating the burnt part of the cookie is bad!

Hastur: out of both of the deities in the manor, Hastur is probably the better one to go to. Yidhra is nice! but she is so fucking scary oh my god. Hastur is quiet as well, but he's definitely not shy. if he finds you interesting, then he will talk to you about it. even if you're not responding in full sentences because holy shit an actual god is talking to you! if anyone were to make you feel uncomfortable, whether it be by forcing you into a situation you don't want to be in, or taking advantage of your shyness (memory...), he would step in. in the events of the manor, unfortunately, there isn't much Hastur can do to stop them from happening. unlike you, a survivor, Hastur feels no fear to the manor. he cannot be hurt (except for stuns), he is a powerful deity, and therefore the terror is almost minimized. and, Hastur doesn't so much as feel empathy. he has never needed to. but for you, he is willing to nod along as you whisper about the match(es) that day, and offer a shoulder of support. maybe a head pat, if you had a particularly bad day. he is nice to you, and although you're a little awkward to him, he pays it nearly no mind.

Jack: now THIS guy, on the other hand, is not even close to as kind as Hastur. he immediately flocks to you, after you get absolutely destroyed in a match. he finds your terror endearing, in some weird way. he is part psychopath, after all. but when you really don't respond to him, or even give him any attention, he wonders if you're turned off by him, y'know, trying to murder you. so he tries to make it up to you! by cornering you after he murdered all of your teammates! so approachable! when you finally admit that you're just shy, and a bit nervous, he feels really bad. like super bad. he did just murder your entire support system and corner you in the back of China Town. once you get past the first introduction, where he profusely apologizes for being uncaring towards your feelings, its mostly just him trying to woo you. he's flirtatious, there's no denying that. so he'll bring you flowers, and bask in your gorgeous flustered face. sometimes he'll cook you your favorite meal and bring it to you, sending you random presents, the works. I think that Jack was (maybe) a survivor before he became the Ripper, so he understands your fear to the manor, and assures you he'll try to go soft on you during matches with him. he keeps his promise, sometimes... he's more empathetic than Hastur, but don't think he'll go easy on ya!

♥Luchino: Luchino is, to no one's surprise, incredibly awkward. like, he's definitely not shy by a long shot, but he's so awkward about initiating conversations with anyone. especially since he's so physically terrifying. he's afraid he'll scare anyone by trying to talk to them! so, if you want to talk to him, sorry honey, but you're gonna have to talk to him first. but honestly? once you get over the hurdle of talking, being with him is so damn easy. he's so chill, very go-with-the-flow. definitely not as awkward as before, and really nice. he understands your feelings of fear, and applauds you multiple times for coming so far in the manor. and even more so to talk to him, he knows how intimidating he can be, so expect lots of head pats from him. since his transformation, Luchino doesn't feel fear as effectively as before. but during his transformation? pure terror. he gets disgustingly scared when thinking of the pain he had been in, no matter how long or short it took. he's incredibly sympathetic to you, but don't tease him about it! if anyone makes note of how kind he is to you during matches (giving you the dungeon, or purposefully missing his jumps and hits so he doesn't hurt you), he'll get very embarrassed about it most days with him are spent in comfy silence. sometimes he'll speak up, but with you both being on the quieter and shyer side, its a good comfortable silence. he's good with helping you deal with your bouts of shyness, but is in no way shape or form good with dealing with his own. what a hypocrite!

[mrpenguinpants]

Okay when I saw your genshin HCs I honestly fell in love with your writing. Is it okay to request some headcanons as Diluc and Kaeya being fathers ○•w•○

You know, I never knew how people replied to asks and added tags so this will be my test version. But in case it doesn’t work and I don’t look like an idiot:

Thanks for telling me^^ It puts a lot of relief knowing that you like my writing. Still a work in progress but we’re getting there aha. But yes, feel free to request anything. I haven’t made any rules yet since it feels more casual so everything is on the table 

---

Diluc and Kaeya: Being Fathers 

Calm and collected throughout the entire process. He was a bit super overprotective and when his child arrived, he was ready to spit fire at anything he felt would come to harm either of you two. 

He would probably want twins. I see him with twins. He has twins. Diluc is used to balancing things and he has you so it makes the process slightly easier. 

He’s a bit distant in the beginning. His father left his life pretty harshly so he’s incredibly nervous about messing up in general. He wants to be affectionate and loving but that’s not his personality type. You have to reassure him that you’re in this together and you’re here to support him this time. 

Saving money? Who is that? Never heard of her. Diluc is the wealthiest man in Mondstadt so whatever interests his children are into, money is not an issue. If they don’t want to become a knight and instead a painter? Fine by Diluc, he’s already buying the paints. 

He get’s annoyed when Kaeya comes to visit since his usually quiet and polite children suddenly turn hyper and jump around the mansion but he’ll sigh as you pat his shoulder before greeting Kaeya. Passive aggressively but brotherly love. 

Kaeya tells them the story of the “Dark Knight Hero” which displeases him immensely but the twins eat that story up and he doesn’t want to crush their dreams. If they ever ask if Diluc has met the Dark Knight Hero he simply says that he’s too busy managing work that he never catches this mysterious hero. 

He’s very supportive but he wants his kids to do things on their own. See what they like outside of other people’s influences and expectations. He would be...against them becoming a knight but he won’t completely shut that path down. 

The twins would be actual angels when Diluc is around but as soon as he leaves, the table is free. Even when you tell him this he’s not too sure what to do since he’s never seen the twin’s other side. It makes you pout and try to keep him home more since life becomes so much more manageable. He thinks it’s cute and he tries to take more time off but sometimes things get busy.

No matter how old the twins get they both admire Diluc greatly, even if he doesn’t realize this. When they come to visit the two of you when they are adults they still get starry-eyed seeing their mum and dad. 

Kaeya was having a mental breakdown during your pregnancy then as soon as his kid arrives, he pretends that he wasn’t screaming in the back. We see you Kaeya. 

But in the other case that you didn’t want to have kids or couldn’t, he would definitely be down to adopt. He’s been in that boat and knows how scary it can be. 

He might be the Calvary Captain of Mondstadt but he wouldn’t pressure his kid into becoming a knight. He won’t be incredibly against it either but he would be honest about the kind of work they do. It’s not always big adventures, sometimes you’ll be guarding a gate for months. 

He think it’s cute when his kid steals his uniform because of the fluffy feathers but he really needs to leave. It leaves him in a moral dilemma of showing up for work late again or making his kid cry. 

He gets pouty when his kid says that Uncle Diluc is cooler than him. He even uses cryo but that’s not enough to impress his kid apparently. Maybe he should start wearing darker clothes...

He feels bad for leaving you two alone while he’s out doing his Captain duties even though you tell him multiple time’s that it’s alright, he brings little trinkets home that remind him of you or things he think you both might like.

Definitely teases them more as they grow up but does go out of his way to become the scary dad if anyone messes with his kid. If that doesn’t work there’s always other methods. 

He’s pretty hands-on with anything his child wants to do. He’s a lot more lax but he won’t let them run wild. You might complain that eating sweets before dinner will ruin their appetite but he’ll just laugh and wave it off. 

He’d tell his kid stories of his grandfather who was a pirate and his adventures. He loves the starry eyed look they give him that he feels a tiny bit better for exaggerating some parts to them. The world can be a dark place so he wants them to retain their child-like curiosity as long as they can. They don’t need to grow up too fast. 

If he ever needs a babysitter he’ll casually swing by the tavern unannounced when he knows Diluc is there. Instruct his child to behave even though Diluc is telling him he can’t leave them here and trying to shove him out the door. It’s a wonderful family bonding experience. 

[contemplativepancakes]

five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

i.

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room. 

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting. 

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose. 

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated. 

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes. 

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose. 

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier. 

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes. 

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up. 

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room. 

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag. 

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.  

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap. 

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond. 

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely. 

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days. 

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water. 

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades. 

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received. 

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword. 

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously. 

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight. 

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath. 

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank. 

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. 

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat. 

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it. 

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there. 

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth. 

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts. 

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing. 

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor. 

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. 

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked. 

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes. 

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed. 

Geralt grits his teeth. 

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff. 

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him. 

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up. 

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said. 

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left. 

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again. 

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter. 

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on. 

-

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion. 

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view. 

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked. 

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed. 

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter. 

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky. 

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe? 

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from. 

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt. 

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else. 

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him. 

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it. 

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing. 

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point. 

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself. 

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot. 

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared. 

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers. 

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed. 

And, gods, did he miss a lot. 

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around. 

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it. 

 Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh. 

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier. 

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt. 

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp. 

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came. 

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help. 

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat. 

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts. 

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows. 

v.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself. 

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen. 

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s. 

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long. 

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs. 

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place. 

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time. 

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream. 

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react. 

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away. 

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. 

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—” 

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers. 

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin. 

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone. 

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness. 

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear. 

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp. 

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips. 

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree. 

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits. 

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines. 

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth. 

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention. 

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself. 

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out. 

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip. 

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again. 

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him. 

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist. 

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles. 

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him. 

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point. 

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough. 

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits. 

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole. 

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles. 

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. 

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him. 

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it. 

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless. 

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. 

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him. 

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach. 

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers. 

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums. 

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear. 

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing. 

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly. 

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting. 

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him. 

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin. 

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum. 

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

[aineryeo]

Sweet Tea ௹ OSAMU

Sweet Hibiscus Tea — Better Twin. 🍵

SYNOPSIS: You are not a protagonist but your best friend definitely is. When will you ever be, sweet little side-character? » 6.2k Words

THEME: A li'l bit of a slow burn love story, angst, just a treat as my first fic in a year. | Bit of profanity, cussin', teen drama. And use of dialogue references!

NOTE: Low-key felt like this was crap, rip. I still love you so much ‘Samu :( I may have not written this the best

If you were to think of what your role in life was, you were sure you were a comic relief character, and your screen time was just cut short because the viewers in the show you call, “Life” are not giving you the best reviews. With the amount of times you felt like you were cycling through all your days the same, waking up… Waking.. Up.. Wake— Yeah, that was about it.

Everything else was an objective agenda. You were a sufficient klutz, whatever that paper was. You ponder, in your inner monologue while you’re tapping your push-pen on your school desk in Inarizaki.

“— And we’ll be designing our own living rooms as part of the Course Outline for Interior Studies in the general subject.”

You had a best friend, continuing to ignore the incessant babbles, you say as you write a little note to remind yourself to think of a living room design to finish the work quickly later. You had a best friend, who you can easily say is the main character of life. You swear, as she sat close to the window, and how she wasn’t mean, she was charming; it was so hard not to like her. But she’s also insecure, keeps to herself enough, having you by her side.

“Hear that ‘Samu?”

“What now, ‘Sumu?”

“Interior Designin’! Weren’t ya listenin’ ya scrub.” Bleach-blonde hair.“What about it?” Disinterest; Bleached hair too, but ash-grey.

“Ain’t Kori-Kori real good at stuff like this?”

You observed the two famed twins of Inarizaki High. Actually no, you were forced to; how? Well, you sat between them, not like that ever stopped anyone, nor did it ever interfere with your boring experience of being a 2nd mid-year Senior. You just wanted to get up, and leave, get a job or something; not going to lie.

“Is there anyone talking at the back right there? Anything the class would like to hear, pretty sure.” Professor said, which immediately shut the two up, the other was blatant and oblivious, even whistling.

“Guessed so.” Your professor went on right after.

Your chin was resting on the heel of your palm now, but you felt someone roughly, no really, they roughly tapped your shoulder, the touch was from a clearly heavy hand. It came from your right, which was…

“Hey missy, pass this on to my brother, will ‘ya?” He grinned widely, his other hand that held the pen used to write a note in the torn paper from his notebook that most likely didn’t have any notes despite it being mid-year. You let out a bit of a grunt, not moving from your position, but you did use your hand that was tapping your table to pass it on to the other Miya without sparing a glance.

“...”

“...”

Your arm was about to die. 

You turned to the other Miya, a small frown on your face as he ignored your outstretched hand, his eyes were closed, arms crossed but he was definitely not sleeping, it was obvious enough. So you tried to aggressively wave your arm that held the letter while keeping an eye on the doting teacher upfront, trying not to be obvious. His brother had noticed that he was ignoring you as well, shrugging when your frown deepened, back straightening on your desk, your free hand now tapping on your table instead of being a rest for your head.

“Hey ‘Samu ‘ya jerk…!” Atsumu whispered, a volume tad higher, to his brother who proceeded to ignore him; and technically, you too.

You groaned and ignored the two, equally annoying twins that are involving you into a situation you don’t want to get involved in. So you just slammed, actually no, not slammed exactly but you did harshly place the torn paper that contained some unnamed letter from Atsumu directed to Osamu. Wistfully, this was noticed by your professor.

“Y/N. I believe it’s been made clear that passing notes is not allowed in my class, rather, on any occasion that involves other subjects as well.” They scolded.

You sucked a breath in between your teeth, your hand ran through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “Switch seats with Yokori. This seating will last ‘till the end of the year, ‘lest you misbehave again. This applies to everyone else who has been swapped constantly.”

Yokori gave you a solemn smile, knowing you hated this, she gathered her belongings and quickly sat to avoid any more trouble; even opting to give you a pat on your shoulder on the way to her desk near the window, though not quite beside. One classmate separated you from being directly beside the scenery of school grounds that held the gym where your schools’ famous volleyball team resides for practices. Actually, this classmate was one of their players, Suna Rintaro? Your impression on him was that he was quiet… Enough, if not provoked or talked to at all, which you guessed was part of your luck. Because you were definitely not going to talk to him, less it required you to by any of your classes together.

So you sat, your professor continued, and your eyes landed on your best friend that sat on your previous seat, since your first year of middle school. Bored expression on once again, your thoughts dialed back, and you noticed a quick interaction from Atsumu towards your best friend who flushed slightly from the two’s attention, noticing that even the twin who ignored you earlier began perking up, just a little bit. And the feeling was slight but you felt a tinge of annoyance, proceeding to push it to the back of your mind, not letting the feelings against your best friend surface. Because she was good, and undeserving of it, obviously.

The bell rang, it was time for lunch!

Lunch is a happy time, because you can buy yourself chocolate, and you can, well, eat lunch. What else is there for? You were bored out of your mind at home after doing your homework, and studying enough for the day so you practiced cooking. Which you admit, was very enjoyable, especially when you finish. Today was tuna sushi rolls, seaweed-strapped spam meat, seasoned rice, and hot tamarind soup in your insulating tumbler. You didn’t notice light gray irisess eyeing you in your little daydream about your lunch for today.

“Y/N, you good?” Yokori, said best friend went next to you, who had just finished gathering your lunch bag. You nodded, smile small. “Yep, let’s go.”

The class dispersed quickly, you two walked side-by-side as she timidly told you a story about her situation earlier.

“So Atsumu-san was passing notes to his brother Osamu, right? T’was so weird because they kept asking me questions, but Atsumu-san was nice, he wanted help with that Interior Designing project we have going on.” She laughed, scratching her cheek. You nodded along to her story, she was used to your rather quiet demeanor, she knew you were still listening. “They said it’d be cool to attend their after-school volleyball practice.”

“Mmh. Really? They’re annoying though.” You humored her, to which she chuckled.

“I mean… It shouldn’t be bad to try it, right?” She said with a big grin, bright.

You jutted your lips forward as you bobbed your head in agreement, already taking your chopsticks and lunch out when you found a free table. “I guess so.” You said, mouth chewing on a roll.

You pour a portion of soup to get the food down your throat onto your tumbler’s cap that serves as the cup, and drank, “So I told them you’re coming with me, I’d be too nervous by myself… Hehe..” and spat.

“Kori, what?”

“Come with me…” She looked at you, nervously smiling with her eyebrows raised in mock questioning, “-please.”

“Okay.”

“I promise, I’ll ask you next ti— wait, really? Holy shit, Y/N, thank you! I’ll pay you back, for sure. I didn’t expect you to agree quickly, d’you have a crush on any of the VBC members, perhaps?” She teased.

You were eating continually, mouth full of rice as you pointed your metal chopsticks toward her. Speaking with your mouth full, “I don’t think there was any point trying to say no if I’d say yes in the end anyway. It already happened, what can I really do?”

She nodded in understanding, you were always like this, relaxed about what happened around. It was worth idolizing, at least. Your head felt like it was burning, the back, you mean. Was someone staring?

You were now sitting outside of the gym, deciding to hang around outside instead of watching sweaty boys play for hours. Kori became more relaxed, so you took the go-mark and asked to leave when you noticed that she was. The team was fond of her, you note, Shinsuke Kita the Captain even thanking her for thinking of buying them snacks and helping them around with their manager to fill up the boys’ water bottles. The team gave her attention and copied their captain in terms of providing gratification for her deeds. You heard her ‘lax conversation next to the banter with the twins that was a normal recurrence.

You were simply a drifting particle, a bystander.

Actually wait, you remembered that you had packed yourself a little snack in case you had to stay in school for some surprise activity you forgot about, or situations like this exactly. So you took out your little box of homemade onigiris, not noticing the figure looming at the door. It was their break, and you were about to bite.

“Hey, that yours?” You hear, stopping your bite mid-way, turning your head to see ash-grey.

“Huh.”

“Ya deaf or what, missy?” The nerve.

You looked at him, and bit on the prism-shaped rice, then looked forward once again, closing your eyes even. ‘Till you heard shuffling and a sleazy figure sitting next to yours. That was when you opened your eyes, mouth slightly agape. Osamu Miya, sat next to you, his legs spread, and his arms were holding his whole posture as his head faced yours.

“If yer gonna look at me like that, the least ya could do is gimme one, little miss.”

You shook your head and swallowed. “Stop calling me little miss, old man.”

“Hoho, old man?” He says, humoring you, you can smell his cologne from here, mixed with sweat from his practice. He leaned forward, his arms now intertwining, resting on his knees, he was facing you with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’d call you shit hair but your hair ain’t the color.” You shrugged, but it was the type of shrug where you slightly move your hands outward. So when you did, the hand that held your bitten snack was when the big fox ate his fill. “Mm, tastes good.”

“Fucki-” You screeched. His eyes went wide when you just shoved the onigiri in his mouth, “It has your germs now, better not choke, gran’pa.”

Osamu was trying to give you a snide reply back but he couldn’t, with the rice stuck in, he just kept chewing. As you stood up and yelled to Kori that you were leaving. You were a side character, nothing more, you thought; as you walked away from the boy who had tried reaching to you, but you failed to notice.

“So… He invited me to their house to hang out.” Yokori said happily on the phone, you were trying to sketch a few designs you felt like doing so hummed, already quite satisfied, spinning on your chair right after. “So…”

“No.”

“But I haven’t said anything yet!”

“You were about to ask me if I can come with you because you’re nervous to go alone, the usual, hm?”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...Yes.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“N-”

“I’ll order you takeout pizza!”

“...Okay.”

You heard her cheering yes! On the other line, to which you just slumped in your chair to. And so, the day came and you were right behind Kori, who was knocking on the Miya residence as of the moment. The one who greeted the both of you was Osamu Miya, you internally groaned, their parents were off, you heard.

“Tsumu!” Your best friend smiles, greeting the other twin brightly; and smiling so wide at the twin at the door. “Hello ‘Samu!” She said, before the blonde had pushed past the door to beam at her.

“Brought your li’l friend along, cutie?” Atsumu jokes, rustling your friend’s hair before beckoning the two of you to come in. You walk past Osamu who you had mild grudges with. Your friend turned to you, “I’ll be helping Atsumu with some plates for the project, we’ll be up in his room!” She said, innocently.

“Mmh, okay. I’ll stay here?” You asked, more to yourself, you didn’t really know where to stay. This wasn’t your place.

“Accommodate the guest ‘Samu, I need’a do important school stuff.” Atsumu waved off as the two walked up the stairs on the way to the boy’s room, pretty sure. You stood there in the middle for a couple minutes, unsure. The renowned ‘less annoying’ Miya was sitting on one of their kitchen stools, his cheek digging into his palm, just staring at you. You stared back. He stared back. You were both staring.

You broke. “Not gonna let me sit, or anything?”

“Sit anywhere or something.” He droned, still looking at you. He was enjoying it.

So you looked at the couch beside you, then spared a glance at him, about to sit until he spoke again, “Hmm, not there.” He said in his low voice that contained an underline of mockery, you were sure. Though to him, it was simply amusing, to watch you that is. If anyone outside the two of your observing based gazes, he was actually sporting a noticeable smile. A small triangle smile, as if he was shy to make it any bigger, in hopes of hiding something.

You tried the two other chairs, the floor, leaning on a wall, but it was all a reject. You were embarrassed every time. Did you really have to go through all this just to get takeout pizza? You’d have to ask more later, that's for sure. So you tried for a last option, there was a tall stool right beside his, and well, three others far from him. So you tried the farthest tall stool from him, which was the far left. He shook his head no, you furrowed your eyebrows, you moved to the second stool, still no? Every move made your head wrinkle further down ‘till you reached the last seat, right next to him. To which he finally said, “Got it, pretty girl.” with a big boyish grin.

You didn’t have time to react to the nickname before finally letting out a sigh as you stretched your arms, and legs before laying your head on your arms that were resting on the table in front. That whole interaction probably took at least half an hour, you didn’t really know, you didn’t have a watch. “Pretty, my ass.”

He hummed, resting his head on his arms as well, though he was facing you. “Yer ass is.”

“The fuck.”

“Ya got a bad mouth.”

You groaned, and buried your face in your arms. Wanting to escape this. But you were lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t subconsciously enjoy his attention. You weren’t used to it, you weren’t supposed to feel this, right? It wasn’t, it just, it’s not you. Right? You shook your head to which the boy watched you do, getting your head up, posture straight and looking at him. He looked back, like he always seems to do.

“What do you want from me?” You say.

Osamu kept his mouth shut, still looking into you, thinking of what to say. Unwilling himself to tell you what he’d rather. So he asked a question, “D’ya cook?”

“Yeah, I make my own lunch and snacks.” You said, wary. Already feeling suspicious, you raise both your brows.

“Let’s cook.” He suggests.

Here’s the thing, you can’t do anything right if someone’s watching you too intently. It feels awkward, who in their right mind is able to do this right when he’s gripping your wrist that was stirring the batter for what the both of you decided to make, muffins.

“Ya gotta put in the right amount of strength.” He instructed.

“I’m starting to regret mentioning that I don’t bake often.” You thought, you thought you just thought that it was only in your thoughts. Oh no, you were becoming redundant, was it always this hot?

“Yer burnin’ figuratively, and literally. By that, your eyeballs are wide as fuck.” Osamu pointed out, he was biting his lip, to keep from a wide smile. “Tryna bake with yer hot gaze?”

What? “Huh.”

Now Osamu had wide eyes, I think it came off more sultry than intended. So he moved away from you as if you were burning his skin, though technically, you really were. Playing it cool. “What?”

“My what.”

“Yer… What?”

You were staring at him with a confused expression, about to open your mouth when, “Hey scrub! Make me a snack, I’m starvin’ over here.” Atsumu yelled from the room, you heard Kori’s small laugh and a faint, “Don’t be so mean, ‘Tsum.”

“Right. Let’s put ‘em in the tray then straight to the oven, yeah?” Osamu started, standing next to you, his face was not quite visible due to his wide shoulders, if you knew better, he might be obstructing your vision to not see the steaming heat from his ears. Spoiler, you did. But you chose not to poke at a sleeping bear.

“You sick? Got red ears?” You poked at a sleeping bear.

Actually, you were expecting a snark reply, it was easier that way. Just be sarcastic back. It was when the both of you were done, and placed the tray containing the muffin batter in the oven to bake, did Osamu dip his index finger in the bowl of slightly empty batter, facing you, and licking it off his finger. You really tried, you did; you tried not to look at the way he did that so unabashed. Dipping the same finger on the last remaining batter before menacingly leaning closer to you, inches from your face. If you could measure it exactly, 2.8 inches? So close.

Your weight moved from the heel of your foot to the front, again and again, what was he doing?

“What are you—?” You began before you got cut off by his finger wiping the batter on your lips, it made it look like you had a mustache. You stood there surprised for a few seconds, not knowing how to react, and hated how you expected something so different. It was until you heard a click of a camera and a low chuckle vibrate from the boy in front of you that you took the few remaining flour that was right in your reach to throw it in front of his face, making a huge fog of flour. He coughed for a bit, his eyes were glistening as he took the bowl next to him, using his whole hand to wipe leftover batter, getting ready to chase you.

You noticed. So you ran, but not without screaming, the leftover flour bag in your hand.

“No, please,”

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” He replied breathily, both of you were circling the kitchen island.

It took a good ten minutes before he decided to jump the island, and ran to quickly get hold of you with both of his arms, his hair tickling the side of your neck which made you laugh too hard, flour was all over his hair and apron, you failed to notice the handprint of batter right on your chest because you were struggling so hard to get off his grip. He was laughing too, you put on your scowling face, though not really mad, to face him, who in turn faced you as well. You didn’t notice the distance between the two of you was nearly non-existent; I repeat, nearly.

“Hey ‘Samu! I’m starvin’ and I smell yer bakin way over in my room.” You heard quick footsteps down the stairs, which made you jump in your skin. But even with that speed, you were still caught. Because Atsumu had an unreadable expression, “This place is a mess! Did we interrupt too early, hm?” Kori taking a peek right behind Atsumu.

You heard a dry cough from the other twin, facing the other direction, you facing the other as well. None of you spoke in time, so you took it. “No, uh, we weren’t, nothing was happening.”

“The scene of the crime is proof!” Atsumu pushed, teasing, as he continued his way down next to Kori.

“Shut it ‘ya scrub.”

“Yer the scrub, scrub.” They started bickering, real easy like that, trying to beat each other up. You noticed Kori walking down the stairs as well, first with an expression you couldn’t quite place, as if she was thinking deeply. But when she noticed you looking, she quickly changed into a bright smile, even sporting a blush, ready to tell a story about what happened behind the closed doors of Atsumu’s bedroom.

The day ended quickly after that, Osamu forced Atsumu to help the both of you to clean the kitchen while Kori volunteered to. It continued on like that, Kori dragging you into one of her meetings with Atsumu, you complaining but coming anyway, and you end up stuck with Osamu as she goes to her rendezvous with Atsumu that at this point, you have no idea what they’re doing. You just tag along.

Right now, you were beside Osamu in the gym during their break from training. Near the door, his teammates a good few distance away as he sat on a bench with his usual posture. Slumped back, his arms arching, one behind you that you fail to think of anything. Just as a general position. You were voicing out a thought you had in a while, seriously.

“So I was balls deep into ghosts way back—”

He looked at you, disgusted. “GROSS,” Shoving you lightly, “God, please never, ever say ‘balls deep in ghosts’ to anyone ever again. I feel like washin’ my mouth having to repeat that.” He even added this mild shudder that was just an exaggeration.

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t really want to think about anyone having sex with a ghost.”

“Huh, who said anything about ghost sex?”

“You did, Y/N! Just now!”

“I didn’t—Oh, holy shit. No. Oh no.”

“What?”

“Does ‘balls deep’ not mean you’re standing in, like, the shallow end of the pool, metaphorically. Like up to your balls or something.”

“No! Balls deep is—It’s…”

“Balls deep is…”

“Why are you two talking about balls?” Suna interjected, acting as if he was just hearing about your conversation now. He was actually listening since the start, noticing the short distance between the both of you, interest hiding behind his eyes. “Balls, as in, dick or something? That’s wild.”

“Suna, no!” You screeched.

Osamu was biting back a laugh. The team was watching the three of you converse, getting used to the sight of you with their teammate. Assuming other things up the clouds. Atsumu was watching his brother with hawk eyes, and so was the girl next to him, Kori, though she was looking at you. If Suna was being honest, he didn’t notice any form of chemistry between your friend and the piss haired twin. They were all smiles and bright, but they always looked like they were thinking of something different. Though he doesn’t know anything about it.

Practice ended. It’s been months, and your interactions with Osamu have gotten more laxed. Your thoughts about being nothing more than a side-character was starting to change, because with him, you felt that you were a number one choice. You felt that you were a main character. Osamu felt the same, being with you felt like time was moving too fast and he wanted to spend it more with you, he was becoming insatiable. With you, he didn’t feel second to his brother for once. Lingering touches, his hand forgetting to unhook from yours, and his arm slinking around your shoulders as he yawns and asks for one of your homemade snacks as he starts to make some after-school snacks to give back to you. 

You were invading his mind as much as he was invading yours. Sitting next to you during lunch, asking what’s in your bento, vice versa. Why was everything sailing so smooth? It was like it was just him and you. You heard rumors from the Miya fans that they were thinking you were Osamu Miya’s girlfriend. Forgetting your inferiority, sometimes the universe was just cruel, so it had to humble you.

“Atsumu and I broke up.” Kori sobbed.

Not to you, but to Osamu. You gripped your bag’s strap tightly. You peeled your lip with your teeth until the middle bled, so you sucked in the pain. No, you were not the protagonist. You weren’t, you never will be, and you never are in the past, present, and future. So you sucked in a breath to collect yourself, seeing Osamu pat the girl to attempt and comfort her, badmouthing his brother. “Sorry,” Her first gripped his shirt tighter.

“Osamu, please. It’s—I always liked you. It was just you.”

She wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t, but why? You wanted to hit her, that, or jump off a building and die. None of them noticed you yet, at least that’s what you thought, but the sobbing girl had already seen you before she started bawling, and the other twin was forced to give her a tight, but awkward hug.

“Yokori… I liked you.” 

You were about to walk to them normally after licking your lips from the blood, wanting to appear as a third party, to not let this happen. It just can’t. but you were pulled back by your collar. Who—

“Atsumu?”

He put his index finger in front of his lips to silence you, “Shh.”

So you followed him confused, he held your hand away from the scene. Leading you to the gates, the school half-empty, their practice about to start in half an hour or so. “Atsumu, why?” You croaked. 

He had his eyes widened a bit, why? Actually, why did he pull you from that scene? His other hand that didn’t hold yours, which you didn’t bother to remove with the energy seeping out of your body quickly; it was taking everything in you not to break down. It went to his nape, rubbing it in question to himself, why? It was just that, seeing you staring at a scene when he knew you liked his brother, at a scene too painful, for a best friend who was just trying to do their paper, he knew. So his arms safely wrapped around you as you stared dead into his eyes, looking at his features that resembled the other who had unknowingly captured your heart.

Your bleeding lip trembled, your eyes turned glossy of the tears held back, Atsumu looked at you, empathetic. He broke up with your best friend because he couldn’t see it happen, every time he saw you with his brother, that wasn’t what they both had. They were simply not meant to be, and he was fine, he just didn’t know, but he was glad that because of it, he found out that she liked his brother more than she did him. He’d be angry, he should be, for his sake, but he wasn’t angry for him, he was angry for you. 

He hid your face into his chest instead.  You didn’t sob, solely because you thought you didn’t deserve to. But you cried, you let your tears soak in, “You look like him too much.”

“Shhh, I know—” Sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t have to look at me.” He said, trying his best to comfort you, caressing your hair. As a pair of grey eyes watched the scene from a distance, unable to hear, but able to see. Maybe he saw too much as he grimaced.  

Osamu tried his best not to punch his brother right in the jaw, or push him away so he could yell everything he’d kept cooped up inside before you came running along, turning monochrome into a saturated-vision of the world. His teeth were pressing down on each other hard enough, he thought it might break, and shatter, just like his heart did. Of course, you chose his brother. Everyone always does. Every time he thinks he’s got it all, it’s all swiped underneath by his twin. Everyone says that it wasn’t their talents, or skills in volleyball that was the greatest gift they had ever received in life. It was their twin. But right now, he just thinks he was a curse he had to always deal with.

He jolted as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Suna.

“Practice. Kita’s calling. Call your brother.” The ever-observant boy runs over as he scans the scene, and hisses as he sees you wrapped in his brother’s arms. Though he knew more than that, he had first-class seats to this theatrical after all. But he’d rather not be part of the act club, it wasn’t his forte.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Osamu replied, briefly. A bit tense, still.

He looked back to Atsumu who had let you go, and you who were walking away already. On the way to your home, he was sure. But he can’t help but cringe, thinking of it as your way of walking away from him.

“Practice! ‘Sumu!” He yelled, devoid of anything.

You jolted, you were a bit far but he yelled really loud you could still hear it. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, but you were both overcome by swirling emotions that stopped both of you to do the bare minimum, smile and wave, no after-school snacks. Atsumu jogged towards them, not noticing his brother’s attempt at hiding his huge frown. Practice was hell for Osamu, he didn’t want to see his brother right now, not when he still thinks of your precious little form hugging his brother’s, not his.

When his brother accidentally served a ball hitting Osamu behind the head, it was more of a switch for his anger; his rage.

“Fucking hell.” He said, turning viciously towards his brother who was uttering lighthearted apologies. It wasn’t until he started stalking towards Atsumu did the team start watching them like hawks, Aran thinking it’s just another one of their silly fights. But that thought was cut off when Osamu suddenly launched a fist towards Atsumu. “Ya just get off on this, huh? Ya get off on giving me bullshit every time.”

“Woah, ‘Samu I said I was sorry. What the fuck.” Atsumu said, brows furrowed, voice starting to get scratchy at his brother’s tight grip on the collar of his shirt. His hand quickly gripped his brother’s wrist tied to his shirt, attempting to get it off him, starting to get riled up from getting hit out of nowhere. “What’s your fuckin’ problem?” He said, about to kick his brother off of him.

“You. You just took everything from me, ‘Sumu. You took them.” 

Osamu breathed heavily as Kita instructed the team to peel the twins away from each other as this wasn’t one of their silly fights at all. It held other issues. The captain knew that practice wouldn’t be able to continue like this, so he made them do drills before allowing them to go home. Looking pointedly at the Miya’s. The two brothers did what they were told to, going off to do their drills, and getting ready to go home.

They were walking silently side-by-side, both faces covered with a frown, Atsumu’s face having a bruise by the jaw whilst Samu didn’t have a scratch, only because Atsumu was realizing where it all came from.

“Did ya see?”

“Fuck you.”

“Look— It’s not what ya think, ya idiot.” Atsumu started, Osamu raised his brow at his brother. “I don’t want to say anything. Figure things out yourself, scrub.” Then the blonde started walking faster, leaving his brother behind to ponder.

The next day came by, he tried calling you but it never got through. Did you block him? What did he do? Did you really get repulsed by him to avoid him to that extent? That involved his texts getting left unanswered. You didn’t come to school today, he asked Kori, who he had rejected yesterday, and who was supposed to know about you more than he did. Though he was aware that you often felt inferior to her, as he told you the same about his brother, it was a feeling that you two were all too familiar with.

“I don’t know where she is, I’m sorry. She’s not talking to me either.” 

Osamu stayed quiet at that, he thought you just needed time. So he let it go, looking forward to talking to you the following days. But that was the problem, you weren’t there in the following days either. He knew where you lived but he didn’t want to impose as your family didn’t know him very well yet either. He stopped himself from visiting until it hit the second week of your absence. Where were you? Why have you disappeared as if you never existed in the first place? He was growing worried, he wanted you to exist. He loved existing when you were around. And he wanted to clear everything up after getting multiple clues from Suna, and his brother, obviously.

It was until the class of the second week you were gone, when Osamu promised to visit your house after school, did their teacher tell them news that tore Osamu in half.

“One of our students Y/N L/N has transferred schools. The administration just finished filing her transfer after her visit yesterday, she didn’t get to say goodbye as her family moved out the same day. That’s about it, the first class is Physics. Have a nice day ahead, students.”

His ears were ringing. You were gone. Gone like the liquid that slipped past his hold. Atsumu looked at his brother in pity, knowing how much he had lost at that time. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t hear Osamu crying in the shower when they got home. Or when he tried to not get his snot on his pillows, sniffling in the night. His heart ached for his brother.

It’s been years since 2nd year in High School, and Osamu has just opened up Onigiri Miya. His brother had gone pro on Volleyball, and he couldn’t be more proud. He still finds himself thinking back to a few months of pure bliss in highschool, and he tried dating a fair share as well, in hopes that he’ll get what he had with you. He didn’t. So he dedicated himself to his work, and his passion: cooking. A few more years and his business was a success, to which was hell for the first few months, having no investors, and all. He was wiping down his counter, black cap on, his hair not having the same old bleached-grey hair. Instead, it was back to his natural dark hair.

“What is this place, really?” 

“The name reminds me of someone from my highschool days. But I only heard about it now, is it really good?”

“Yeah, totally! We should bring our superiors here, and see if we get a few favors, hmm? The onigiri here is a star-choice.” Osamu sees someone turned around, laughing prettily, smiling all-wide, they were bright. Until the same eyes he used to look at in such a close distance, caught his own. His heart skipped two beats, or maybe skipped beating this whole time, maybe he died because god, did he finally send his angel back to him?

It was when you uttered his name under your breath, from the entrance that rang the bell prior to the conversation he overheard earlier did he confirm it. “Hey pretty girl,” he says, as he takes off his cap, ruffles his hair, chuckling deeply, and looking directly back at you; your heart spasms. “Where have you been?”

Bonus:

“Yeah, he was a real bitch when I first talked to him in high school.” You badmouthed him loudly from your table, which made him yell from the kitchen, “I was trying to see if you’ll take my hand and put the note there, okay!” Laughing, you didn’t notice him stalking behind you until he placed a kiss on your cheek. “Grumpy-ass.”

Living with 'Samu! ⁆ End Credits

[possibilistfanfiction]

Okay Elsa is annoying but … any Elsa thoughts on the future?

i also agree that elsa is annoying but u know shes a good mom honestly. also we all know casey is non binary in our hearts so. here's something i guess :) also on ao3

////

the morning gates stay open (i’d be there)

/

i’m born to be somebody, then somebody comes from me i’ll tell you about the rabbit moon and when to keep walking

— clairo, ‘reaper’

//

you see izzie — and no one else — waiting for you when you head out of the terminal at lax.

‘hey elsa,’ she says, giving you a hug when you open your arms, even though you’re a little confused. ‘casey’s in the bathroom,’ she rushes to explain, rolling her eyes fondly. ‘they had like six la croixs today, even though i said it was a bad idea, and —‘

you don’t really process much else because then casey is barreling into you, even though ever facetime call has ended abruptly with an adamant refusal to return any sentiment about missing each other. ‘hey mom,’ casey says into your shoulder, and when you back up you have to smile at the sun-kissed freckles and cutoff shorts fraying at the hem, even though it’s february and snowing in connecticut. casey looks happy, and links hands with izzie, who tries to take your suitcase for you before you glare at casey, who sighs and takes it instead.

/

you’ve visited before; you helped both of them move into their dorms, and then you’d flown out with doug for a weekend in october. casey and izzie came home for thanksgiving and winter break, but you have some miles saved up now and casey hadn’t sounded too annoyed at the idea of you visiting for a few days to get out of the cold. they drop your things off at the hotel you booked near campus, and then izzie levels casey with a look and then says, ‘i have to meet with a group for a midterm presentation, but i’ll see you for dinner.’

you give her a hug and she kisses casey easily, quickly, and says, ‘i love you,’ far too seriously for an afternoon apart. you don’t know what’s going on but you think back to what izzie had said earlier — not about casey drinking too many la croixs; listening to rules has never been a strong suit, after all — but, you think, if you were listening, maybe izzie didn’t say her, which might mean—

‘let’s go to the palisades,’ casey says, then starts to ramble nervously about how they’re closer to the west side than laguna or manhattan but not as crowded as the pier, and who wants to be around that many tourists anyway, and there’s a little cafe if you wanted some snacks. you listen patiently and agree to any plans, because it’s a beautiful day and you don’t, actually, want to drive that much in la traffic or be by so many tourists. eventually casey runs out of things to say and turns on the radio to some music you don’t know but honestly don’t think is half bad. the windows are down and the sun is bright and you’ve been to pflag meetings in new haven for over a year now; you think you’ll knock it out of the park if casey tells you anything.

you do stop by the cafe, which is cute, and pick up a few snacks. casey had packed a big beach blanket, one you’d given as a joint gift to izzie and casey for christmas, which makes you smile. casey’s hands are shaking, a little, though, and so you don’t mention that it was, in fact, a great present that apparently they use all the time, according to izzie, who always politely and enthusiastically returns your texts and calls with all sorts of updates.

you sit down in the warm sand near the water and you know casey; sometimes, you just have to wait it out.

‘so.’

‘hmmm.’

casey fiddles with the edge of the blanket and then with some of the fruit you got at the cafe, before staring straight ahead at the waves. ‘i’m, uh. whew. well.’

you don’t laugh, will your body not to. instead, you squeeze casey’s hand, just once.

‘i’m just your kid, okay?’

you sit with that for a moment, try to process what you think casey is saying, but you don’t want to get anything wrong or jump to conclusions. ‘today, at the airport, izzie said they, when referring to you.’

casey sits for a second, shoulders tense all the way up toward the sky, and then says, ‘oh.’

‘i don’t think she was even thinking about it.’ casey nods. ‘but, is that what you’re talking about?’

casey sighs. ‘yeah. i guess. is that — is that okay?’

‘of course it’s okay,’ you say, because it definitely is okay, and also it’s not the most shocking news you’ve heard. casey hasn’t wanted anything to do with femininity, really, for as long as you can remember; you’ve grown used to, and proud, so often, of having a queer child — and another bonus queer child, too, which is what you consider izzie now, no matter what.

casey sniffles and then leans into your shoulder. ‘i know you’re, like, bursting with questions.’

you laugh, just a little, and feel a small smile against your skin. ‘not if you don’t want to answer them.’

‘depends on the questions.’

‘do you have any term you like, or any concept or something? i’ve been doing a lot of reading, and i’ve met a lot of other parents in pflag who have children who are also gender non-conforming, and—‘

‘whoa, slow your roll,’ casey says, but seems to deflate a little in relief. ‘non binary is fine, i guess. i’m just — not a girl. i’m just casey.’

that makes you smile. ‘your name is still casey, then?’

it produces an eye roll but then a begrudging, ‘it’s a good name. i like my name,’ so you’ll take it as a win.

‘i have great taste.’

‘ugh.’

‘you use they/them pronouns?’

‘yeah,’ casey says. ‘but, like, it’s okay if you don’t always get them right or whatever.’

‘no, it’s not,’ you say gently. ‘i’ll try really hard. i’ll get them right. it’s important.’

that produces a fresh round of tears that they try to dismiss by saying the sun is really bright and they have a hangover, which you know is false because casey had been asleep by 9 last night after an all-nighter and cross country the day before. but you let them have it, eat a few grapes and then toss one their way.

it elicits a reluctant laugh but it works all the same. ‘izzie corrects people all the time so she’ll love you more than she already does.’

‘i’m so glad you brought my favorite child into my life.’

‘wow, thanks elsa,’ casey deadpans, but then digs their hand into the sand and smiles. ‘izzie’s been so awesome, with all of this. i really love her.’

‘i know you do,’ you say with a smile, pat their hand.

‘and i’ll tell sam and dad eventually, but i want to tell them in person because sam won’t care, i’m sure, but dad is… you know.’

‘he loves you,’ you assure them. ‘i won’t say anything, of course.’

they look at you suspiciously.

you hold your hands up. ‘i swear i won’t. i know i love to meddle but i would never out you.’

casey sighs and nods. ‘i believe you,’ they say. ‘but, for the record, meddling is your most toxic trait.’

‘yeah, yeah.’

‘i don’t really want to talk about this anymore,’ they say quietly after a few moments. ‘it stresses me out, sometimes.’

‘okay. any time you want or need, though.’

they nod. ‘love you, mom.’

‘love you, casey.’

they pop up off the blanket, then, which whips sand into your face and all the food, and then take off toward the waves, laughing. you let them have a little space for a moment, watching your brave child chase off into the surf, fearless as always.

/

you take izzie to lunch the next day; casey has class during that time and you like to spend time with izzie anyway. she sits straight and proper but you see how she’s relaxed a little too, here, maybe getting to have a childhood for the first time ever. her hair is long and perpetually wavy from her runs by the ocean, and her eyes are bright.

‘thank you,’ she says, ‘for being so good with casey yesterday. they told me that you were awesome.’

‘casey, my child, said those words about me?’

izzie laughs, delicately takes a bite of her quinoa bowl, then shrugs. ‘not those words exactly. but they meant it. and they were so happy this morning, like a weight was lifted or something. i told them they didn’t need to be that anxious to tell you or anything but it’s been a process, you know. i think it’s been hard for a while.’

‘they like to let things stew, don’t they?’

izzie huffs. ‘it’s the worst.’

‘welcome to my world.’

‘casey is… quite the person, that’s for sure.’

‘thank you, too, izzie. for loving them so completely.’

izzie blushes, looks down at her hands. ‘impossible not to, i think.’

you think back to all the times casey has driven you up the wall over the years, the tantrums and fights, and then reach out to squeeze izzie’s hand. ‘impossible not to,’ you agree.

/

casey and izzie come home for spring break, and casey is pacing around and so you order food, send izzie to go get it, who thanks you quietly with a little squeeze to your shoulder.

you sit down on the couch and make sure that sam and doug are actually paying attention and then casey sighs.

‘is this an intervention?’ sam asks when casey doesn’t say anything. ‘i don’t know who it would be for.’

casey sighs again. ‘it’s not an intervention.’

‘okay,’ sam says, ‘good.’

casey tries to still their hands on their thighs and then says, ‘i’m not a girl. or a boy. or anything else, really, i guess. uh, if that makes sense.’

doug looks genuinely baffled but sam just nods.

‘there are many animals that don’t fit into a gender or sex binary. most commonly, it’s referred to as sequential hermaphroditism.’

casey nods contemplatively and your heart warms a little.

‘one of my friends is trans,’ he says, then takes out his notebook. ‘what are your name and pronouns?’

you can tell casey is trying not to cry, but they just clear their throat. ‘uh, casey, and they/them pronouns.’

sam writes something in his notebook and then nods. ‘got it. sibling? is that okay?’

casey is really trying not to cry now. ‘that’s great, sam.’

‘cool,’ he says. ‘is that all?’

‘oh, uh, yeah,’ casey says, ‘thanks, sam.’

‘sure, i’m just glad this wasn’t an intervention,’ he says, then stands and leaves the room without another word.

casey is smiling but then they turn to really look at doug, who has a furrowed brow.

‘i’m sorry, case,’ he says, which might not be the best start, but you’re fully prepared to jump in anytime they need. ‘i don’t — i don’t understand fully.’

he doesn’t sound angry, and he gets up to sit by them on the couch, squeezes their shoulder once.

‘i love you, though, and i guess, uh. you’re my kid. i just want you to be safe and happy. i’ll try to learn, okay?’

casey swallows once, and then again, and then hugs doug tight. ‘please never quote this, and only remember it for your sake and not mine, but mom knows a lot. she can definitely help explain stuff.’

you beam and doug nods. casey rolls their eyes.

’not now, though,’ they say. ‘izzie’s back with the food.’ they flash their phone. ‘she’s just been waiting outside until we were done talking. elsa, i see what you did there.’

‘you’re welcome.’

‘that pizza better not have pineapple or else i’m taking back everything i just said.’

‘extra pineapple, believe it or not.’

casey stomps off, and then makes a little noise of satisfaction from the kitchen when they discover that, in fact, you had actually ordered pepperoni. you hear izzie laugh.

‘so… we don’t have a daughter anymore?’ doug asks, quietly. ‘that’s not what i should call …’

‘them,’ you supply. ‘casey is our child,’ you say firmly, ‘they’re just casey.’

he takes a deep breath and then nods. ‘okay.’

‘we can practice. i’ve been practicing.’

doug looks relieved. ‘okay, good.’ he waits a beat and then laughs, just once. ‘you know, of all the things casey has ever come to us with, even though i don’t understand the details, really, this might be the one that makes the most sense.’

you smile, lace your fingers together. ‘i thought the same thing.’

/

when casey and izzie come home for a few weeks in the summer before preseason training begins, casey has a few more tattoos and a buzzcut and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. izzie is in a crop top and long, flowing skirt and they’re both as enamored with each other as always, sweet and considerate and happy. you make peace with it all, because casey is kinder by the day, it seems, even to you.

zahid comes over one night and smiles and says, ‘sick shoes,’ to casey and leaves it at that, even though earlier you had told them that you thought they looked like geriatric shoes — not even in jest, you were worried about arch support or something — and izzie had laughed and casey had spluttered, ‘they’re jordans.’

it’s not hard to realize, as the weeks pass, that casey is better than they’d ever been; you’d read that a lot of trans and non binary teams have a really hard time during puberty, especially, and casey had been going through so much on top of trying to process this part of their identity. you fight the urge to wish you had known more then, even though they’re healthy and thriving now, it seems.

they get everyone to help organize a slip n slide in the backyard made with tarps and soap and water, and it’s genuinely hilarious when they set up an obstacle course. for two division i athletes, casey and izzie do terribly, falling all over each other and getting bubbles everywhere. you’re pretty sure casey is wearing a binder instead of a swimsuit or sports bra, and when they finally finish their ridiculous game, they lie back on the grass with izzie.

they’re both breathing hard and laughing periodically, not really talking. you bring them popsicles and it’s been a while since you’ve seen casey look this young.

/

things settle.

you miss your kids, of course, but they seem very genuinely happy. but one night in the fall, you’re just sitting down with a glass of nice merlot, ready to watch the newest episode of the bachelor even though casey relentlessly tells you it’s ‘misogynist garbage’ — which you know, obviously, but it’s mindless — when your phone rings.

it’s casey, and casey never really calls you for a good reason, and your heart jumps in your chest. you put down your wine and pause the tv.

‘case?’

you hear them sniffle on the other end of the line.

‘what’s wrong?’

your mind runs through a million different scenarios, each worse than the last.

‘izzie’s hurt,’ they say, finally, and casey has been known to be a little dramatic so you don’t know how hurt, or what you need to do.

‘what happened, honey? what do you need from me?’

’the trainers are taking her to the hospital for an mri right now but they think she tore her achilles in practice today. i don’t — she was running next to me, just intervals, and then i heard a pop and then she was screaming and — can you come? i’m sorry. they think she might need surgery, i guess, and, i just. please? can you come?’

you put down your wine and walk to your laptop. ‘i’ll look up flights right now, case. i’ll be there as soon as i can, okay?’

they let out what you can tell is a very relieved breath. ‘okay.’

‘i found one that can get me there tomorrow morning. i’ll find a hotel and keep you updated.’

‘mom,’ they say, ‘thank you.’

‘i love you, and i love izzie.’ it’s firm, but you mean it like that: there is no question; you will be there. ‘i’ll see you both soon.’

/

izzie does need surgery, you find out by the next morning when you uber from the airport to the hospital. casey is hunched over in a hoodie, trying to stay awake with a cup of coffee, but izzie smiles sleepily and happily when you come into the room quietly.

‘i’m high,’ she says, giggling a little.

casey rolls their eyes, clearly exhausted, but gets up to hug you tight. izzie squeezes your hand back when you kiss her cheek.

‘you didn’t need to come,’ she says suddenly, a little furrow to her brow.

‘of course i did.’

her lower lip starts to wobble and casey rolls their eyes but huffs a little laugh anyway. it’s an uncharacteristically chilly, rainy day outside and it’s surprisingly easy to convince casey to go back to the dorm to shower and nap for a few hours before they come back in the afternoon. izzie mostly sleeps, but you take careful notes when the surgeon comes to speak to you, because izzie really is out of it and, although they promise to come back and explain things later, you don’t want them to be missing any information. plus, they always process information better when it’s written down anyway.

izzie eventually gets discharged and has to come back a few days later for surgery. you have savings, so you’re lucky enough that you can stay for a bit. izzie is groggy but gets to have an outpatient procedure, and you help casey get her situated back in her dorm afterward. she has a big padded boot on her foot and ankle but you picked up pain medication for her and so she mostly sleeps. casey settles in next to izzie on the small bed and kisses her forehead, then looks at you, eyes big. their hair has grown out so that it falls floppily over their brows; it makes them look young and you have to fight to not want to kiss their forehead or hold their hand.

‘just — thank you, mom.’

/

you leave after a few days because izzie is doing better, taking just tylenol and very coherently getting around fine on crutches and so therefore casey has relaxed as well, their easy smiles back and their posture relaxed, slouched like normal.

they both come to see you off at the airport, casey doting carefully and izzie swatting away any attempts. you kiss izzie’s forehead and then do the same to casey, even though they fake gag.

within a few weeks, izzie is walking again, tenderly at first but then without any pause. casey actually gives you studious updates about her recovery; from what you can tell, they go to every physical therapy session they can possibly make it to. you know izzie has gone to therapy for years, now, and all of the drama from when she and casey first started dating seems to have faded into the background. but injuries are difficult, you think — scary and painful, especially because of what running has been to izzie. but eventually she sends you a selfie of the two of them by the beach, clearly having just run, with fly away hair and casey’s cheeks flushed red, huge smiles squinting into the sun.

/

a year passes, full of holidays and casey complaining about finals and izzie sending you pictures of pies she tries to bake in the tiny dorm kitchen. they run; sometimes when you’re pretty sure they’re a little high, casey will facetime you just to say hello. you and doug help them move into a small duplex together at the beginning of junior year, a bright sunny kitchen and the breeze from the ocean floating through the windows.

casey takes you to get coffee when they visit for thanksgiving — so you know something’s up, because they would never voluntarily spend time alone with you unless they really needed to talk — and when you sit down they smile at you, gently and openly, a rare occasion, and say, ‘i’m gonna have top surgery in the spring.’

you’re not surprised, and you’ve done casey’s laundry enough times when they’ve visited that you know they’ve been wearing a binder most days; you know they love being an athlete, and izzie has sent you enough articles about non-binary athletes in women’s leagues that you know casey has a place in sport.

that this surgery is happening, though, is a little different. you feel scared, because casey is your child, but mostly you feel excited for them. relieved for them.

‘that’s so wonderful, casey,’ you say, and they blink just once and then a grin lights up their face.

they tell you about their surgeon, and the type of surgery they’re going to have, how izzie has gone with them but how, they admit, they would love if you facetimed in for their next pre-op appointment in a few months.

‘can you help me explain it to dad? sam and i already talked, to be honest, because he asked me. which is, like, inappropriate from anyone else, but he’s sam, so it was mostly just so he could research statistics and stuff.’

you laugh, squeeze their hand. ‘i’ll help, absolutely.’

/

you go out to la a few months after casey’s surgery with doug and sam; everything had gone well and casey had cried in joy and relief when they’d seen their chest afterward for the first time, which had set izzie off, which had set you off too. you’re pretty sure doug had even sniffled.

when you’d left, though, they still had bandages and bruising but now it’s almost the beginning of their senior year and when you go to the beach they take their shirt off and then shove sam into the sand with a laugh. sam grumbles but gets up to dust himself off, izzie rolling her eyes as she helps you set out the blanket.

casey races off into the surf, turning back and yelling at all of you to come join them. you always have; you do.

[hops-hunny]

Something I’d Get Used To

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: anon “Hey could I get a 9 & 21 for nev with a fem reader please fluff/smutt! Thank you!! :)”

Summary: (Y/n) doesn’t do love, but whatever her and Neville have is something she can get used to

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning but vast majority fluff!

A/N: Hey anon, I decided to go with fluff so I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you have just as much reading it!

9. “Love’s a word I always hated.”

21. “I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.”

Love. A word that made (Y/n) sick to the very pit of her stomach, and Merlin’s knows not in a good way. (Y/n) was tired of the word love before she even knew what it meant. The word that held so much meaning. The word girls and boys alike waited sometimes their entire life to hear. She was sick of it. She had her parents to thank for that. Growing up, (Y/n)’s parents were always busy with work, leaving her with various different strangers referred to as “nannies”. At first she’d look forward to hearing the words, even reading them. “We love you dear, we’ll be home soon!” Each letter ended with this phrase. She remembered the long days that she’d sit by the front door, waiting for the owl to bring the letters to her. How she’d clutch them to her heart, cheering with glee as she’d read her to whichever nanny they had hired. 

However, each time they’d leave they would go for longer and longer, the letters would grow shorter and shorter until eventually they became nonexistent. She felt uncared for, unloved. When her parents got older they started to stay home more opting to work from home. She could still recall the fated conversation that made her hated that stupid little four letter word.

(Y/n) was ecstatic but tried not to show it that much. She knew how much her parents disliked when she would outwardly express obscene amounts of emotion and yet she couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face when they invited her out for dinner. They felt bad for all the important holidays and birthdays they had missed and to make up for it, they decided to take her out for one last grand hoorah before her departure to Hogwarts. 

“Mom, dad, can I ask you something?” she asked, playing with her fingers nervously. Although they were her parents, she always felt unsure of how to speak to them. The limited amount of time they had spent together were always cut short, leaving her parents to feel like distant strangers in her life. Her mom looked up from her phone, smiling at the girl.

“Of course dear, what is it?”

“I...I wanted to know why the letters stopped. You know, when you two would travel. You used to send me a postcard and a letter from whatever place you guys were at and eventually they just stopped coming.” She looked up at her parents, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “Why is that?”

“Letters?” her father started off confused, looking up from his menu briefly before returning his eyes to it. “What lett-”

“Dear let’s stop. Did you want to order drinks too? I’ll get the waiter ov-”

“No mother, let him finish. Go on dad, what do you mean what letters? You guys used to send me them every time you left. How could you not know what letters?” she pleaded desperately, trying to find the answers in her parents eyes.

“Oh right! Those letters.” he said unamused. “Listen kid, you’re old enough now so I guess it’s time we tell you. We weren’t the ones writing those letters, it was your nannies. Do you really think we had the time out of our busy schedules to write you letters? Don’t be ridiculous.” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t see how you didn’t notice that the handwriting was a bit different each time.”  His eyes rose quickly from the small words on the menu at the sound of the menu being slammed on the table. (Y/n) stood there with hot angry tears in her eyes, glaring at her parents. No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. They loved her, right? People who love each other don’t lie, her mother had taught her that once. She rose from her spot in the booth, running out the restaurant despite the cries of protest for her to stay.

When she got home, she went into her room pulling the old box that she kept under her bed. She ripped the lid off, pouring the contents onto the bed. “No,” she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes again, “No, no, no. Come on. No come on!” she picked up the letters comparing the writing noticing how the writing didn’t match up. “Bullshit! This is bullshit! I can’t believe this!” she screamed, throwing herself on the bed. She sobbed herself to sleep, surrounded by the letters filled with lies. So much for love.

After that incident, (Y/n) opted for staying with her aunt. Her aunt was a few years older than her mom but due to the lax life she lived, she looked a lot younger. She was very grateful that her aunt took her in with such short notice, welcoming her with open arms. She’d write to her often, sending her letters of the adventures she was having at Hogwarts. She would always laugh at the bittersweet way her aunt would sign letters, “Lots of Love, Aunt Margie.”

“Oh come on! Please? It’s just one group date.” Hermione pleaded, chasing down the hallway after her friend. She sat down next to her on the common room couch, smiling at the (y/h/h) girl. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even fall in l-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. That word makes me sick to my stomach.” she said, clutching at her stomach to add emphasis as she made gagging noises. “Love’s a word I’ve always hated.” Hermione looked at her friend sympathetically, patting her leg. Her and Hermione had been friends long before their years at Hogwarts. Her parents were colleagues of her parents but they had lower down positions.

“I know, I know. But you also know I wouldn’t put you with anyone I didn’t think was good enough to be with you. He’s a sweet guy! He loves tending to plants, he’s kind, funny. Sure he’s a little awkward and slouches a bit when he stands but he’s got his own bit of charm!” She said, watching as (Y/n) considered her words. She sighed looking at her.

“Is he at least cute?” 

“I knew you’d come around!” Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend tightly. She pulled back, holding her hands in a comforting way. “It is at the end of the week. I decided to tell you ahead of time so on the off chance you’d agree, which you did, you’d have time to back out at any time if you decided you don’t want to go. Well,” she started as she stood up, gathering her things in her hand. “I’ve gotta get going! And to answer your question, I guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

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

(Y/n) snuck through the grass trying to make her way to the greenhouse. Well, as much you could sneak in panda slippers and a nightie. It was about three in the morning and no matter what, she couldn’t sleep. Most nights she had trouble sleeping but it was never this much. “Just my luck. First date I ever agree to and here I am in my fucking pajamas trying to sneak into the greenhouse for a plant that may or may not even be there.” she grumbled, holding her illuminated wand in front of her. She sighed in relief as she finally made her way into the greenhouse. 

She found herself pondering whether it would’ve been simpler to just snag some chamomile from Snape’s room instead. “No, don’t be stupid. He would’ve definitely given me some awful punishment, or even worse, let Filch deal with me.” she shuddered at the thought. She looked around the crowded building, looking and searching for the plant. “What the fuck does a chamomile plant even look like?” she muttered. (Y/n) felt herself growing a bit irritated with herself. Years of living with her Aunt Margie had left her spoiled considering Aunt Margie hated tea bags, always opting for making her own blends. If only she had paid attention to her when she was teaching her about plants, that would make this process a whole lot easier.

“Chamomile, chamomile, chamomile. Eh, this looks close enough!” she reached for the pair of scissors in her pocket, leaning forward to cut it before a hand grabbed hers. She screamed, jumping back as she pointed the scissors at the intruder. “What are you doing?!” she questioned, looking up at the boy. He had a blue pajama set on along with a brown pair of moccasins. He quirked a brow, hazel eyes boring into her own.

“I could ask you the same thing. I come here every night and never see you here.” he shuffled awkwardly, taking the scissors from the girl’s grasp. “Did you need something?”

“I was just about to cut a bit of this chamomile here.” She said motioning to the plant. The boy began to laugh some, shaking his head as he walked across the greenhouse. “What’s so funny?”

“That,” he motioned to the plant that she was previously going to cut, “Is not chamomile. If you were looking for something to help with sleep you would’ve been very upset. That’s actually bouncing biltweed. Whoever drinks it, be it through a tea or potion, is left awake for HOURS. It’s a good alternative for coffee drinkers though.” she felt heat rise to her face as she looked away embarrassed, crossing her arms as she mumbled about how she already knew that.

“Why do you know so much about plants anyways. You say you come here every night, why is that?” she questioned, walking over to his side. She watched as he cut at the actual chamomile before walking to a purple plant and cutting some of that as well.

“I love plants. I always used to have this extra energy from how anxious I’d get, so I started tending and caring for plants. After herbology in first year I became hooked. They’re so fascinating.” He looked down at her, flushing slightly. “Usually I don’t come here this late but I couldn’t sleep either. I have something I’m really looking forward to tomorrow and I don’t wanna screw it up.” she nodded, giving him a noise of acknowledgement. 

“Yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow to. I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it but I am quite concerned about how it’ll all play out.” she sighed, stretching as her eyes floated around the room. Her eyes landed on a kettle and a set of cups around the room. “Well since we’re both in the same boat, how bout we have a cup of tea together, yeah?” she asked, walking to the kettle as she looked back at the boy. She noticed how red he was but chose to ignore it as he gave her a nod.

Although she wasn’t usually a people person, she felt oddly comforted around the boy. He was a bit awkward but sweet nonetheless. (Y/n) hadn’t expected to run into him, let alone spend the next few hours laughing and talking to a guy who’s name she didn’t even know! After a while, their conversation dwindled down to nothing as the effects of the lavender and chamomile took over the both of them. The walked to the castle together before bidding each other goodbye, going their separate ways. She’d never admit it to herself, but she quite liked the boy. He seemed like someone she could be into.

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

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Hermione huffed, throwing herself onto (Y/n)’s bed as the girl got ready. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, adding a final coat of lip gloss on as she ignored the girl. “You know, for someone who was very reluctant to go on this date, you’re putting a lot of effort into your appearance. I think Neville will appreciate it though." She giggled as the girl began to sprits a light amount of perfume.

"Neville?” ah, so that’s what his name was. “And, if I'm going to be wasting my time then I might as well look good doing it. And besides, I'm ready!" She walked over to the mirror smiling at her appearance. She had on a mossy green oversized sweater totally not stolen from her father that was tucked into the overall shorts that she had cuffed around the legs. On her lower half she adorned a beat up pair of sneakers. She smiled, admiring herself before grabbing her brown leather satchel. Hermione stood next to her friend in the mirror, looking at her own appearance as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Do you think I look alright?” she questioned, viewing herself from another angle. “Because, you know, I think I look wonderful but do you think Ro-”

“If Ron doesn’t think you look nice then I’ll give him a reason not to be able to see. You look wonderful! You’ve been looking forward to this all week, don’t go beating yourself up. Now,” she grabbed the girl’s hand as they began to head towards the door. “Let’s go show 'em what we’re made of.”

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

The world had to be playing a joke on her. There was no other explanation for what was in front of her. No, it couldn’t be him. However, as they neared her suspicions were confirmed. As the others were all communicating, the boy(who she assumed to be Neville) stood awkwardly by himself, chiming in every so often. She could’ve been wrong but as he turned towards her, with rosy red cheeks and wide eyes, she knew most definitely it was him. “Hey! It’s you from last night. Are you Neville?” she questioned, standing in front of him. He had on a brown flannel, a black shirt under it which was untucked from his dark color jeans, quite a contrast from his cute little pajama set from the other night.

“Y-yeah I am! This is for you.” He said, holding out a beautiful hand picked bouquet before continuing, “I-I know it’s a weird combination but I thought it’d be a nice call back from the other night.” she smiled, looking down at the strange but welcome array of chamomile, lavender, and baby’s breath. How cu- thoughtful was that? Her brows shot up in realization.

“Wait, you knew?! Why didn’t you say something?” she exasperated, slapping his shoulder playfully before she threw back her head groaning. “I told you so many embarrassing stories last night.” she facepalmed, looking up at him as he began to laugh some.

“Thought it’d be a funny surprise. The look on your face was priceless!” He said, moving away as he laughed at her failed attempts to hit him. He looked around realizing their group had already gone. “It looks like everyone else already left. Let’s get going, yeah?” he said, holding his hand out to her. (Y/n) looked down at it hesitantly before taking his outstretched hand, goosebumps spreading across her body at the warm contact. 

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

As they arrived at the quaint little hole in the wall of a restaurant, they realized their small predicament. Hermione smiled, turning towards (Y/n). “Have I ever mentioned how much I lo- care about you?” she cooed sweetly, taking the girl’s (s/c) hands in her own. In return the girl narrowed her eyes looking at her.

“What happened? What do I need to do?” she questioned.

“Well it won’t necessarily be you who has to do something,” she walked back looking at her group of friends, “It appears there’s not enough seats for 5 sets of us so one couple is going to have to take a booth.” (Y/n) looked at her rolling her eyes.

“We’ll do it. Willingly too because if I have to see Harry look at Ginny like that one more time I honestly might end up puking. Come on Nev.” she said, grabbing the giant's hand, leading him to the booth in question. Neville felt his breath hitch and his face flush at the contact, turning to give his friends one last look.

“Don’t bore her to death with all your talk about weeds and plants! I don’t think any girl wants to hear that.” Seamus snickered out, walking away from his friend. However, (Y/n) didn’t hear him, looking up at Neville as she waited for him to sit down. She froze but shortly relaxed as he took a seat across from her instead of next to her.

“I hope we didn’t waste all our good topics yesterday!” she exclaimed looking over at him.

“Surely we haven’t. You know, you never told me what you like to do for fun. Do you have any hobbies?” he asked, looking over the menu as he waited for a response.

“Of course! I’m an artist. Wait a second, I brought my sketchbook, give me one second.” she said, digging into the brown bag that sat next to her. She pulled out a worn down leather notebook, sliding it across the table. 

“You brought your sketchbook on a date?” he chuckled, watching as she looked away timidly. “I’m just teasing, love. Plus I knew you drew, I’ve seen you sketching sometime but I’ve never actually seen any of you work,” he flipped it open, gasping at the girl’s art, “But oh wow are you talented! I expected nothing less from you though.”

“To be fair, I brought the sketchbook before I knew it was you I was going on a date with. I thought I’d be stuck with someone boring and uninteresting,” she said, watching as he examined the pages, “But I guess I lucked out, huh?” Now it was Neville’s turn to feel taken. He flushed lightly before reaching over, grabbing her hand.

“Oh? Am I hearing this correctly? Am I being led to believe you’re enjoying your time on this date with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Longbottom.”

The pair continued to talk, not a moment of silence falling upon them. It was going perfectly. Neville let her talk about her hobbies and equally enjoyed talking about his. Not once did either of the two get bored or stop talking...which couldn’t be said about their friend’s at the table across from them. The two began to giggle at the sight of the bored expressions on their faces. “Oh god, how awkward does that look?” she laughed out, watching as one of the girl’s visibly yawned at something Seamus said.

“And to think he tried to give me advice before this. Looks like it should’ve been the other way around.” He said, moving his eyes back to the girl. God she was gorgeous, he couldn’t help but think so. He let his eyes travel down the slope of her nose to the outline of her lips. He was absolutely enamoured by the girl, and had been for a few months. He could never get the words right to say to her and from what he had heard from other guys who confessed, he didn’t think he wanted to. He jumped out of his thoughts as the girl’s face was extremely close to his. (Y/n) began to laugh, sitting back down in her seat.

“T-the look on your face! Oh that was priceless. You practically jumped out of your pants!” she laughed harder, snorting as she bang her fist on the table. After a few seconds, she looked over at  the taller boy tilting her head in confusion at his lack of words. “Neville, are you alright?” her eyes looked down as he gripped her hand in his own.

“Listen (Y/n) I know you don’t do love but I just need to say this. I...I like you. I’m absolutely entranced by every part of you and it did start out as physically, I’ll admit but it wouldn’t feel right having you be the only one who didn’t know. I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.” he spoke softly, looking down at his empty plate on the table. His face flushed as she tilted his head to face her, his expression filled with confusion.

“You’re right. I don’t do love. However,” she tightened her grasp on his hand stroking his cheek, “I think we have the potential to have far more than that. Something greater than lo-love.” Neville’s face was overtaken in shock at the girl’s revelation. (Y/n) smiled before leaning over and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

She may not be the type to do love, but this was definitely something she could get used to.

[hazel-light]

CATCH UP ON CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter Two Word Count: ~8,500

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn't mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me feedback on the first part! I really appreciate it :) Things pick up quite a bit here.... I hope you all enjoy! The third part will be up tomorrow, as promised. <3

It was finally time to fly back to Massachusetts. I had changed my flight so that Daniel and I could be on the same one and seated together.

It’s ridiculously early when I arrive at his apartment to pick him up in our shared Uber, since we have to account for the time difference on the East Coast. He opens the door to his apartment, looking super cozy and ready for travel, one suitcase behind him and a backpack by the door.

“Today’s the day,” I grin at him.

“Oh shit, is it really?” He feigns, rolling his eyes. “Good thing I packed early, then.”

“You’re a professional traveler by this point, I bet you have it down pat.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? I actually put a bit more thought into this trip than I usually do.... I need to make a good impression, and I’m making a lot of first impressions.”

I can’t keep my face from forming an endeared expression. “That’s really cute.”

He puts his hands up bashfully. “I take my roles very seriously, Lauren.”

I shake my head. “Well, it means a lot to me; not only that you’re doing this, but that you’re taking it seriously.”

He shrugs, softening his playful demeanor. “Even if we weren’t together in their eyes, I would care what your family thinks. They’re important to you, so it’s important to me.”

“Dannnnielllll,” I whine, “Please don't make me cry this early in the day.”

He laughs, picking up his luggage. “At this rate you’re not going to survive the weekend. I haven’t even turned on my boyfriend charm yet.”

God help me then, I think, making my way back to the car.

Getting through LAX is fairly easy, and remarkably Daniel successfully flies under the radar. He offers to let me have the window seat, but I let him take it, figuring the farther out of sight from the aisle he is, the better.

Like all flights, I fall asleep as soon as we hit cruising altitude; Daniel has his headphones in and spends the time working on something in a notebook. In what seems like minutes, I’m being gently shaken awake by a smiling Daniel.

“Lovely girlfriend of mine, it’s time to rise and shine. Our relationship starts,” he pretends to check the time, “now.”

“Oh thank you, handsome boyfriend. I’m ready.”

Daniel laughs as we stand and wait to exit the plane. Once we step off and onto the ramp, Daniel offers me his hand. “Ready?”

I lace my fingers through his and try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “Ready.”

Getting our luggage from baggage claim is fairly painless, which leads us to looking for Ryan and Katharine, his longtime girlfriend, in the airport. They’re picking us up on their way to the hotel on the Cape, where the wedding reception is going to be held, and also where we’re going to be staying.

We walk through the airport hand in hand, as I check my phone yet again to see if Ryan has texted. Nothing. We stop for a moment, and peripherally I hear a girl’s voice from behind us,

“Um excuse me, are you Daniel Sharman? Can I get a photo?”

I glance at Daniel, whose face has gone blank. I move to let go of his hand instinctively but he tightens his grip as we turn around. I laugh when I realize the voice belongs to Katharine, who’s standing in front of Ryan, who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Not funny, you guys,” I say, biting back a grin. “We haven’t been recognized so far.”

I turn back to Daniel, who’s looking at me slightly confused. “Daniel, please meet Ryan and his girlfriend Katharine.”

“Oh,” he laughs, reaching out to shake their hands. “That was good. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Katharine knocks into Ryan, who’s still grinning. “It was this loser’s idea. He said he couldn't do it because you’d recognize his voice too soon.”

“A fair point,” I add, teasing. “Besides, women tend to be Daniel’s main demographic, so.”

Daniel scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“What?” I laugh, “It’s true.”

“I wanted to see if you’d drop her hand in front of a fan,” Ryan challenges. “You passed the test.”

“That’s a stupid test, Ry. I wouldn’t have been offended if he did, since this is our first public outing as a couple.”

Daniel looks at me like I’ve somehow insulted him. “I would never do that to you, Laur. That’s crazy; I wouldn’t try to hide you.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying.” I look at Ryan expectantly. “Still trying to figure out why you haven’t hugged me yet.”

“It takes two hands to hug, I think,” he taunts, nodding towards where Daniel and I are still holding hands.

I blush. “Can you not be this annoying? We literally just arrived.” I let go of Daniel’s hand and step toward Ryan. Katharine and Daniel watch amusedly as Ryan and I hug, trying to see who can crush the other the most. “I missed you, dummy.”

“I missed you, too. You can let go now. Really.”

I let go of Ryan and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re a brat.”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

I grab the handle of my suitcase, smiling at Daniel, who smiles softly back at me. I glance at his hand and then back at him, and he chuckles softly as he meets me halfway in my attempt to hold his hand again. I blush and look away, turning my attention back to Ryan and Katharine, who are leading us out of the airport to where they’d parked.

---

The car ride to the hotel on the Cape is filled with small talk, mainly questions for Daniel, who takes them in stride. I watch him and smile as he is able to keep up with Ryan’s antics and provide thoughtful answers. He is anything but flustered, and I feel a sense of pride trickle through me. At some point, Daniel catches me watching up with a smile on my face and he just smiles back, continuing his easy conversation with Ryan and Katharine. I jump in where I’m needed, or when I can provide something interesting, but for the most part I bask in how well things seem to be going.

Once we arrive and park at the hotel, the four of us get our luggage and head inside to check in. Ryan gives our name to the woman at the desk and she looks us up.

“Got it. I see the mother of the bride reserved two king rooms on the wedding family floor, which is 3.” I see Ryan glance at us, but I just don’t look at him, I just squeeze Daniel’s hand.

“That sounds right to me.”

Daniel nods next to me. The woman nods and hands us each two key cards. We thank her and head to the elevator for our floor.

Katharine checks her phone. “Do you guys want to get settled and meet back up for dinner? The hotel restaurant has seating out by the beach.”

I look at Daniel who looks at me before shrugging. “Yeah, that sounds great. You want to meet in like 45 minutes?”

The elevator dings and we exit to our floor. Our room is farther down the hall than Ryan and Katharine’s.

“Sure, we’ll head over to your room then.” Ryan smiles before ducking into his room with Katharine.

Once I hear their door click shut, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Daniel huffs a laugh at me, stopping to unlock our door.

“You alright?”

“Great. How’re you doing with all this?”

“Good; they’re nice— Ryan is literally exactly what I expected.”

I laugh at that and follow Daniel into the room. I look around and admire the quaint decor. The bed takes up most of the room but there’s a closet and a bureau on the opposite wall, and tall windows that don’t open but overlook the beach below and the sea beyond. Opposite the windows is a wall covered in different paintings and signs— very boho beachy.

I sit on the bed and look at Daniel, who’s already unzipping his luggage to hang up his suit.

“This is cute,” I comment.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

I bite my nail and watch as he turns around to face the closet.

“I uh, forgot that we’d be sharing a bed. Just didn’t think of it— sorry.”

Daniel laughs and gives me an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“You thought your aunt would book us two beds even though as far as she knows we’re super in love?”

I blush. “Well, no. I just— I don’t know, I didn’t even think about it is all I meant.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t bother me. I quite appreciate a good cuddle, if I’m honest. Haven’t had one in a while.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Why— do you hate that? Are you one of those women who like their space?”

I snort. “No, no, we can cuddle. You just surprise me, is all.”

“Surprise you, huh?”

Daniel turns around with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He takes two strides so he’s standing in front of me, and puts his hands on either side of my face. He leans down so we’re eye to eye and I can’t help but glance briefly at his lips, wondering if he’s going to kiss me again.

“You know,” he says softly, “You should really unpack your dress so it doesn’t wrinkle.” He winks and pulls back, kissing my forehead.

I shake my head even though he’s facing away from me now, hopping off the bed to follow his advice.

“You’re trouble, Sharman. Such a tease.”’

“Sorry?” He looks at me innocently, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Oh, were you expecting a kiss?”

I feel myself blush as I pull my dress out and walk around him to hang it up.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. Like I said, you’re full of surprises.”

He lowers his voice. “So, you don’t want a kiss?”

I turn around to face him, eyes narrowed, thoughts rushing, but before I can retort there’s a knock on the door.

I turn away promptly to answer the door, grateful for the exit. I hear Daniel chuckle behind me as I open the door to reveal Ryan, who clears his throat.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” He peers past me, presumably at Daniel. “Katharine called the restaurant to make a reservation and they only had a 6:45, so she said we’d take it. I tried to text you but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” I apologize. “My phone's still in my bag. We were unpacking.”

“That’s fine. Are you guys good to head to dinner, or...?”

I feel an arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah, we’re good. I grabbed your purse, Laur, and I have my wallet and the room key.”

I can feel Ryan watching me so I lean back against Daniel’s chest and look up at him. “Thank you,” I say sweetly, taking my bag from him before turning back to Ryan. “Let’s go.”

—-

Dinner on the beach is lovely. There’s a subtle warm breeze and the food is delicious. The conversation is easy and I can’t help but feel an unusual sense of peace of bringing two of my favorite men together and having them get along so well.

I’m in a reverie when I feel Daniel’s hand lightly squeeze my thigh, bringing me back to reality. I blink, looking across the table at Ryan and Katharine, and try to ignore Daniel smirking next to me.

“Hmm? Sorry, I dazed out there for a minute.”

Katharine laughs. “Totally fine, I was asking how it’s been dating someone who's in the spotlight.”

“Oh, um.” I pause, taking a sip of water. “It’s been fine, you know, since we’ve been so low key about it. The public doesn’t know about us. I imagine it’d be different then.”

Daniel nods. “I think for the most part, the fans would be welcoming, but there are always going to be people who… aren’t.”

Ryan leans on his hand, looking between the two of us. “Isn’t it weird, though? The thought that there are so many girls thinking about getting with your boyfriend constantly?”

“I—” I look at Daniel, who looks mortified, but also curious at how I’ll respond. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

Ryan makes a noise of indignation. “You watch his movies and shows and stuff, don’t you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course I do.”

“And it isn’t weird watching him make out with people on screen? Doesn’t it make you jealous?”

I open and close my mouth. I can tell behind his hand Daniel’s smirking, and even Katharine’s looking at me curiously.

“Well, of course I don’t love it— but I mean— it’s his job. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

I look at Daniel, who’s looking at me curiously.

“You never said it made you jealous.”

“I mean—” I shrug, at a loss for words.

He looks at me for a moment before looking away, clearing his throat as we’re interrupted by the waiter bringing our check.

Ryan goes to grab it, but Daniel beats him to it.

“I got it. I said I’d owe you a hundred bucks if you came with a real date, so,” Ryan teases.

I cross my arms. “Oh, and you believe me now?”

“After seeing how jealous you got in that conversation? Yeah.”

I scoff and Daniel and Katharine laugh while Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I’m just playing around, Laur.”

Daniel intervenes, sticking his card in the check holder and placing it at the edge of the table.

“I’ve got it, bro. First meeting and all that; but thank you.”

I look at Daniel. “You don’t have to do that, we all have our own jobs.”

Daniel shrugs. “I know, I just want to.” He places his hand on my thigh again, and leans in to kiss my temple. He whispers against my head. “Let me do this, please?”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Well, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Katharine echoes, smiling.

“My pleasure.”

—-

We’re back in our room, just finished brushing our teeth, when I bring it up again.

“You really didn’t have to pay for dinner you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want him giving you money like me coming here was something that had to be bribed, or bought. I came because I wanted to— the details of which Ryan doesn’t need to know.”

I hum in thought.

“Besides, apparently I’m causing you bouts of jealousy, so really it’s the least I can do,” he teases.

I scoff, “Comes with the territory I guess…. along with apparently fighting off swarms of girls who want to jump your bones.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, folding down the bed covers, “Do people even use that expression anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter, you know what I mean.”

“And yet, you’re the woman in my bed tonight.”

I laugh, folding down the other side of the bed, “How scandalous.”

“Very. Cuddling is serious business, you know.”

Daniel settles into bed, looking at me where I’m still sat on the edge.

“You coming in?”

“Yeah,” I flush, hesitating.

He extends an arm, and I take the invitation, cuddling up against his chest.

“See, this is nice.”

“I never said it wouldn’t be.”

“I know." He pauses, "Try to relax, I promise this weekend is going to go smoothly, if I have any say in it. Not to sound too cocky, but I’m good at my job.”

I laugh at that, before sighing, “I know you are.”

“Good. Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams," I echo, snuggling a little bit closer to him.

—-

When I wake up in the morning, my chest is pressed against Daniel’s shirt, and I feel his fingertips lightly tracing up and down my back.

“Morning,” he hums.

“Good morning,” I answer, shifting slightly. “How long have you been awake?”

Daniel makes a noncommittal noise. “Not sure, didn’t want to risk waking you up to check my phone.”

I look up at him as best I can from my position. “You’ve just been staring at the ceiling this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long. Plus I’m resting, and enjoying our cuddle.”

I turn away blushing and snuggle back into him. “You are very warm; makes me not want to get up.”

“Our alarm hasn’t gone off yet—” He’s cut off by the alarm on his phone doing just that. “Nevermind.”

I make no effort to move from my cozy position.

“Come on,” He urges, pulling my hair lightly. “We have to get up and brush our teeth. I have a feeling there’s some kissing in our future, so.”

“Oh? Is there someone you have your eye on?” I tease.

“Just my fake girlfriend. I think I’ll probably need to demonstrate to her family how in love I am.”

“Demonstrate, huh? I’ll tell the children to shield their eyes.”

I feel Daniel’s laugh rumble through his chest, and I grin.

“Come on, we have to get ready and we have to make a good impression!”

I groan, rolling off and away from him. “I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I don’t have to turn around to know he’s smirking.

Daniel showers first so I can use the bathroom to style my hair and do my makeup once I’m done with mine.

When I’m done, I find Daniel suited and sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. I walk up to him, standing in between his legs, and he looks up at me, taking in my appearance.

“You look beautiful.”

I reach my hand up to smooth his collar. “And you look very handsome; it might be a hard sell for anyone to believe you’re here with me,” I joke.

He shakes his head, smiling softly. He reaches up to take my hand, pulling my wrist up to his lips where he leaves a gentle kiss.

“I don’t think anyone will have any trouble believing that, actually.”

My heart stutters in my chest, and I swallow.

“Are you ready to meet everyone?”

“I am. Are you nervous?”

I look at him for a minute and really think about it.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “With you, I’m not nervous.”

He smiles. “Good; let’s get going.”

—

As we exit the hotel, we take a right before descending down the stairs to the beach ceremony hand in hand. The sun feels warm on our skin, but the soft breeze keeps it from feeling overbearing. I can feel some family members’ eyes on me as I smile and wave with my free hand, sure I’ll have plenty of time to talk to them after. We pick our seats and I look up at Daniel, who is already smiling down at me. I smile back as he places our clasped hands in my lap, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over my skin.

“It’s a beautiful day to get married,” he states, looking around.

I hum in agreement, wrapping my free hand around his bicep.

“I always wondered about summer weddings— I’d worry that I’d sweat off all my makeup if I was the bride.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I assume most grooms are sweating buckets before they even reach the reception.”

My eyes wander down to where he has the first few buttons of his shirt undone to accommodate the heat.

“My eyes are up here.”

My eyes flash back up to his, and he smirks. I shake my head and try not to blush at getting caught. He leans down to kiss my temple.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he murmurs against my hair, squeezing my hand.

I turn to him and raise my eyebrow. “Diving right in are we?”

He shrugs and diverts his attention back to the altar.

“Ryan looks so much older in his tux.”

I look to where Ryan stands next to Nick, Rachel’s soon-to-be husband, as one of the groomsmen.

“Sometimes I forget he’s only 18, but then he’s still a baby to me in some ways.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Just imagine, one day we’ll be sitting at his wedding.”

“I can’t even think about that— though, to be fair, he may beat me to getting married. He and Katharine have been dating since they were 13.”

He lets out a low whistle. “True high school sweethearts. Do you think they’ll stay together through college?”

I sigh, looking over at Katharine a few rows ahead with my Aunt Judith. “I hope so, I think they’re a good fit. She’s already part of the family.”

It’s quiet for a moment before something hits me.

“You said we’ll be sitting at Ryan’s wedding.” I tug on Daniel’s arm. “Plan on sticking around?”

“Well, I—” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, not sure of the right response.

I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek before pulling back just enough to whisper, “You know, you’re really cute when you blush.”

He turns to me before I can pull away entirely, placing a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me blinking up at him.

He smirks. “Touché.”

———

There’s something to be said for attending a wedding with someone.

I’m not sure if I’m emotional because it’s Rachel, my cousin who I’ve grown up with, or the fact that when something particularly romantic happens, I look at Daniel, who will smile and squeeze my hand in solidarity.

We’re both a little teary eyed by the time the ceremony ends. I reach my free hand up to wipe a stray tear from his face. He laughs, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m feeling it too. Easy to feel a little sappy on a day like today.”

“Mmm. Really sets the mood for the start of our relationship.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly.

“Speaking of…” I trail off, eyeing a few family members approaching over his shoulder.

“Get ready, because introductions start now.”

—-

The members of my family that are introduced seem to welcome Daniel with no hesitations— and far fewer questions than I anticipated. He handles them all smoothly and I’m thankful we discussed some things beforehand. Eventually, we part ways, excusing ourselves with promises to catch up more later.

We don’t get too far before a little girl runs up to us. She can’t be older than 4 or 5.

“Hi,” she giggles. “I’m Marnie.”

Daniel and I share a smile, and I bend down a bit. “Hi Marnie, I’m Lauren, and this is Daniel.” He waves. “Are you here for the wedding too?”

She nods bashfully. “Nick kissed her! Now he’s a husband.”

Daniel laughs. “He is.”

“How do you know Nick?” I ask.

“He’s my cousin,” she says, kicking some sand with her sandals.

“Ahh, the girl he kissed is my cousin Rachel. Now she’s a wife!” I exclaim.

She looks at me curiously. “Is a wife like a mom?”

Before I can answer, we hear someone call her name, and we look up to see a couple around our age standing on the patio about 10 feet away.

“Is that your mom and dad?” Daniel asks.

“Yeah, I gotta go— see you later!”

She dashes off, and we wave at the couple who wave back, calling out an apology.

“It’s fine— she’s super cute!” I smile.

We watch as they head back toward the hotel, and presumably the reception.

We walk along the stone wall lining the patio, watching from a distance as bridal party photos are taken.

I look at him. “Should we take our own photo to celebrate the occasion, and how nice we look?”

Daniel laughs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sure.”

He bends down so we can take a selfie, before shaking his head.

“Wait.” He sits on the wall, and pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap. I try to mask my blush as he looks at the phone screen. “Better. More natural angle.”

We take one selfie smiling and another with silly faces.

“Do you two want me to take a photo for you?” A woman passing by asks.

I hesitate, but Daniel’s already handing over his phone. “That would be great, thanks.”

We stay seated with his arm around my waist. And I turn to lean into him, putting my hand on his chest.

We grin and the woman takes a photo.

“Boooo, boring,” Ryan heckles, walking up behind the woman out of nowhere. “Give us something good.”

I roll my eyes, and feel Daniel chuckle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking formal photos?” I query.

“I finished.” He shrugs, taking the camera from the woman, who excuses herself. “Now give me something good.”

“Alright Ryan, since you asked so nicely,” Daniel drawls. I feel his hand on my neck tilting my head up. “Give the man what he wants.” He smirks, eyes sparkling, leaning in to kiss me.

I can’t help but grin into the kiss as I hear Ryan quickly change his tune. “Okay gross, this is excessive. I got it, you can stop.”

Eventually we pull away, and I turn to Ryan innocently. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I’m starting to regret pushing the whole plus one agenda.” He frowns, handing Daniel back his phone.

“No you aren’t,” I tease.

“I’m going to go find my girlfriend,” he rebuts, stalking off.

Daniel shakes his head. “He’s funny.” Lowering his voice, he says into my ear, “One kiss down, many to go.”

I shove him playfully and slide off his lap, turning back towards the hotel to hide my blush. “If any of those pictures came out good, send them to me, please.”

“Okay, but wait.” He stands and pulls my elbow gently, and as I turn back to him his lips meet mine.

“What was that for?” I ask as we finally pull away.

“Just making sure we found our rhythm.” He shrugs. “Besides, as your boyfriend, I technically don’t need a reason.”

I bite my lip. “Is that so?”

He looks at me innocently. “It goes both ways, you know, these lips are yours for the day.”

I bark a laugh. “That sounds so weird, but, okay, noted.”

He grins, lacing our fingers together and pulling me back toward the hotel and the reception.

—-

Inside the reception, each table seats 6; we’re seated at one of the family tables with Ryan, Katharine, and my Aunt Judith. Aunt Judith is my late grandmother’s sister. She has a sharp tongue and rarely minces words when she speaks, a trait that suited her long career as a lawyer in the city. She’s one of the family members who I’ve been most nervous for Daniel to meet, as I know she’ll be critical and her eagle eye will be looking for weaknesses between us. I’ve seen her do it to Rachel’s boyfriends over the years, and even to Katharine when she and Ryan started dating.

“So, Daniel…” Aunt Judith begins. “Ryan here tells me you had… concerns, about Lauren telling us about you.”

Here comes the interrogation. I glare at Ryan, who shrugs, before looking at Daniel who appears unusually calm.

“Not concerns, really,” he starts, “We were friends for a long time, as you know, and I think we were both just nervous—“ he looks at me, “and trying to take our time in figuring out the transition into being together romantically.”

I nod, “And it was only like a month before I told Ryan. You guys know I tell you everything.”

Aunt Judith watches as the others laugh knowingly, and Daniel grins at me.

“Are you planning to keep your relationship private from the press?” She pushes.

“Well,” Ryan interjects, “At the airport they were holding hands, even when Katharine approached him pretending to be a fangirl.”

I roll my eyes, “That was so unnecessary, you guys. Daniel and I both like our privacy so I wouldn’t say we’re hiding it, but we aren’t flaunting it all over either.”

“I’m definitely not ashamed or trying to hide Lauren, if that’s what you mean.” Daniel jests lightly.

“I should hope not,” she says, looking at him over her glass, as she takes a sip.

Katherine turns to Daniel, “What is it about Lauren that drew you in?”

Ryan snorts, “Yeah, how’d she escape the friendzone?”

I put a hand over my face, embarrassed, which Aunt Judith seems to interpret to mean something else entirely.

“Please tell me you did nothing scandalous, so help me, Lauren….”

“What,” I look at her, “No, of course not, why would you assume that?”

She shrugs and Daniel intervenes, “It wasn’t something sudden… I always knew she was beautiful, and obviously as we became friends I saw how kind and thoughtful she was. Funny too,” he says smirking at me.

“Hmm,” she says taking a sip from her drink again, but I can tell she’s secretly pleased with his answer.

—-

Once dinner is finished I excuse Daniel and I from the table, so I can introduce him to Rachel, her new husband, Nick, and of course my Auntie Kim.

I feel Daniel’s hand squeeze mine and I turn back to look at him, smiling.

“Getting tired of all these introductions yet?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Such a good sport,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

We wait for the last people currently talking to Rachel and Nick to clear, and when Rachel sees me she squeals.

“Lauren!”

I laugh, “Hi Rach, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” she beams, looking over at Nick briefly.

“And welcome to the family, officially, Nick.”

He grins and motions behind me, “Who’s this guy you’re towing around?”

“Right,” I blush. “Rachel, Nick, this is my boyfriend Daniel.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Daniel greets, sticking out his hand to shake theirs. Neither Nick or Rachel do a great job of hiding their surprise.

“No offense, Laur, but when Ryan told me you were bringing a boyfriend I thought he was messing with us.” Nick interjects.

I force a grin on my face, feeling Daniel’s hand comfortingly move to my back.

“I’m all too real, I’m afraid.” Daniel interjects. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I lean back into him, and watch as Rachel smacks Nick on the arm.

“No, no, we’re very glad you’re real Daniel. Just surprised is all. Don’t mind Nick.”

Auntie Kim approaches saving us from the awkward encounter.

“This must be the infamous Daniel, who has won our Lauren’s heart.”

I blush, as she moves to hug him.

He smirks, “Well, she’s won mine as well.”

“You two are so cute. We are so thrilled you could come today, Daniel.”

“I was too, it is really great to meet you all after hearing this one talk about you all nonstop.”

The group laughs.

“We are very much looking forward to getting to know you better, hopefully this will be the first of many visits.”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

—

At some point much later in the evening, I lose Daniel. He steps away to use the restroom and I get pulled into conversation with a family friend. I keep my eyes peeled for him but somehow I don’t seem to see him anywhere.

I’m standing by the bar waiting for a drink when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Hi, darling.”

My stomach flutters at the pet name.

“Oh hello, I was wondering where you ran off to.”

His arms tighten around my waist. “I was having a riveting conversation with one of your aunts, actually.”

I turn my head to look at him curiously. “Which one?”

“Aunt Judith,” he smirks, waving the bartender over to order a drink of his own.

“Oh boy,” I laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”

Once he places his order he leans down to whisper in my ear, “She wanted to know if we were using protection, and after that, we went over the unexpected costs of raising children.”

I turn around in his arms, horrified. “No! —She didn’t.”

“Oh yes,” he laughs, grinning. “She did.”

“What did you even say?”

He pretended to think. “I told her, diaper prices are definitely outrageous, and I agree, college costs are inflated beyond belief—” I glare at him. “Oh, and that it was very important to me that we practice safe sex, but, if anything ever did happen, I would be there for you every step of the way.”

“Oh God.” I bury my face into his chest, and he laughs, affectionately stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry, that’s mortifying….”

“I’ve been asked weirder things, just being an actor in LA.”

“Still.” I look up at him. “Your answer was very sweet, though.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I’ll always be there for you— fake pregnancies and all.”

We’re staring at each other now, his fingers still running through my hair, his other hand on my lower back. Time seems to slow down and my eyes flicker to his mouth, his words from earlier echoing in my head. It goes both ways. Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up to kiss him, because it feels right.

“You’re the best fake boyfriend, you know that?” I murmur against his mouth.

He pulls me closer to him, brushing his nose against mine. “I might need another kiss to convince me.”

The bartender behind us clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am? Your drinks?”

We break apart, and as our moment ends I try to quell the butterflies in my tummy.

Daniel smiles politely at the bartender, passing me my drink before taking his glass in one hand and my hand in the other.

We make our way back to our now vacant table. He lets go of my hand to pull his chair closer to mine as we sit down, draping his arm over the back of my chair. I lean into him as we sip our drinks, people-watching the other tables and the crowd on the dance floor. I feel his fingers start drawing shapes on my shoulder, causing me to look up at him.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks.

“I am, largely thanks to you. Are you having a good time?”

“I am; everyone has been really welcoming. It’s nice to meet the people you’ve told me about, and hear the stories everyone has to tell me about you. There have been some good ones, I have to say…”

I roll my eyes, smiling. “I’m sure.”

“The only way it could be better would be if they had baby pictures.”

“Listen, I’ll be the first to say I peaked in preschool. I was much cuter then, I peaked—” Daniel laughs. “I’ll get some and show you. You’ll be so disappointed this is how I’ve turned out.”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I bet you were cute but, I couldn’t be disappointed.”

I shake my head, blushing. “Don’t be so sure— you haven’t seen them yet.”

“I am sure…. I’m looking at you right now.”

I start to smile despite myself. “Oooooh, that was smooth, Sharman.”

“No, no, no," he protests, smirking, "it’s easy when you tell the truth.”

“Have you always been this cheesy, or is this a boyfriend exclusive privilege I’ve unlocked?”

“You know—” He’s interrupted as the little girl from earlier runs up to us.

“Hi,” she says bashfully.

I smile, “Hi Marnie,”

She turns to Daniel and taps twice on his knee. “Can I sit?”

Daniel looks at me, and then around the room. Marnie’s parents are nowhere in sight.

“Sure, angel. Where are your mom and dad?”

She shrugs before he lifts her into his lap. The three of us smile at each other as Marnie gets shy. She leans up to whisper in Daniel’s ear, cupping both of her tiny hands around his ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I watch as Daniel’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Not yet,” he answers to whatever she asked, and she giggles before whispering again, and he laughs. “Mhm, I do.”

Marnie pulls back and looks at him with amazement, whispering even more excitedly. This time he pauses before smiling at me, before turning back to her.

“What do you think?” She looks at me quickly before back at him, nodding shyly. He nods along with her, before leaning in and whispering in her head with his hands cupped secretly like hers had been. Marnie is absolutely beaming now. It’s easy to see how smitten she is with him.

Curiosity gets the best of me. “Do I get to know a secret, too?” I ask, teasingly.

She looks unsure before Daniel swoops in playfully. “Nope, these secrets are for me and Marnie only.”

“Darn it.” I sigh dramatically.

The music changes to something Marnie clearly recognizes as her face lights up, as she tugs on Daniel’s sleeve. “Can we dance? Me and you?”

Daniel looks at me. “Will you be okay here?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be watching.”

He puts his drink on the table as I pick mine up to take a sip, watching as her tiny hand fits in his and she drags him out to dance. The two of them are so cute and my heart feels like it’s going to burst.

Ryan slides into Daniel’s seat a minute later.

“You know, if you and Daniel had a daughter, she’d probably look just like Marnie.”

I glance at him, realizing he’s right. Dark brown curls and bright blue eyes, with a toothy smile and a loud laugh.

“Don’t let my ovaries hear you. I’m not having any children until I have two rings on this finger,” I say, waggling my left hand at him.

Ryan laughs and we watch as Daniel is so good with Marnie, letting her swing his arms around and move them to the beat.

“I like him,” Ryan says definitively.

I look at him, surprised. “Wow, I mean I obviously like him too, I just thought you’d be more skeptical.”

“I did too until I saw you guys together. I just…” He looks emotional all of a sudden. “Shit.”

I laugh softly. “It’s okay, Ry, it’s an emotional day.” I rub his shoulder as he pinches his eyes.

I see Daniel glance over, concerned, but I give him a thumbs up. He nods and goes back to spinning Marnie around.

“I just...” I turn back to Ryan as he speaks, giving him my full attention. “I can see that he loves you— really loves you. It’s all I ever wanted for you.”

I feel my heart squish uncomfortably in my chest. I feel guilty that my cousin is so happy for me, so proud and vulnerable over a relationship that’s just for show. I swallow.

“Me too, I— thank you, Ryan. I love you, so much.”

The song changes again into something slow and I watch Marnie shriek, horrified, before running off into the crowd. Daniel looks after her, humored, before looking at me, gesturing with his head that I come join him. Ryan must see it too because he kisses my temple.

“I love you, too. Go get your man; I should find Katharine.”

Like I’m in a trance, I don’t take my eyes off Daniel as I approach. He smiles and reaches his hands out for me, lacing our fingers together.

“May I have this dance?”

“You may, I was getting a little jealous over there.”

He drops one of my hands to wrap it around my waist, and I bring mine around his neck as we begin to sway, staying close together.

He chuckles. “Well, don’t be, I think everyone here knows who I’m going home with.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles softly but doesn’t answer. I feel my eyes flutter shut as he moves closer pressing his lips to mine gently, tenderly. I kiss him back and for a second I swear I feel it— that all-encompassing love Ryan says he sees between us. When we pull apart, he keeps his head dipped down, pressing his cheek to mine for the remainder of the song. I close my eyes and nuzzle into him, letting myself pretend this is real, just for another moment.

Eventually I break our silence.

“Hey, what did Marnie ask you?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, the sound vibrating against my cheek.

“During your super secret whisper time.”

“Oh,” he laughs breathily. “She wanted to know if we were married.”

“Ahhh,” I chuckle. “I see. What else did she want to know?”

He pauses as the song starts to fade out and our swaying slows down. “I don’t know if I can tell you that. Some secrets need to stay secret, after all.”

While it was clearly meant to be a joke, he says it a bit too seriously, so I drop it and smile tightly as we pull apart.

“Okay.”

He tugs my hand playfully. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

I make a face at him. “Well, I guess I’ll never know.”

He laughs. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

—-

A little while later, we’re watching Rachel and Nick leave for their honeymoon as the wedding party begins to disperse.

“I suppose we should say our goodbyes,” I say, tearing my eyes away as their car drives off.

I hug my Auntie Kim goodbye and tell her I’ll see her at Christmas. She fawns over Daniel, telling him to watch over me, and how happy she is to have gotten to meet him. It makes me smile to see how well he gets on with her. It’s hardest to say goodbye to Ryan. I hug him fiercely, and he returns the hug just as vigorously.

“I wish I could take you back with me.”

“I know.”

“We need to FaceTime more.”

“We will.”

When I step back, Ryan and Daniel go to shake hands, and I see Aunt Judith sitting at the bar by herself. I excuse myself as they chat and take the seat next to her.

“Aunt Judith, I’m afraid I leave again tomorrow.”

She turns toward me, swirling the scotch in her glass. She disregards what I’ve said and instead looks past me into the crowd.

“Where’s that man of yours?”

“He’s saying goodbye to Ryan at the moment.”

She hums.

“What?” I ask.

“He’s a looker.”

I chuckle. “So I’ve been told.”

“I think he could be husband material though. Not as dense as men usually are.”

I suppress a smile. “Huh, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” I give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye, walking over to rejoin Daniel who seems to be finishing a serious chat with Ryan as I approach. As I join his side, Ryan shakes his hand one last time before walking away. Daniel glances at me, placing a hand on my back, looking back towards Aunt Judith at the bar.

“Should I go say goodbye to her?”

“I think you’re alright.”

Aunt Judith waves at us, and Daniel waves back.

”Was everything okay with Ryan?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah; just talking.” He shifts, interlacing our hands. “Ready to go back to our room?”

I nod and we head towards the elevators, hands swinging between us. While we wait, I subconsciously start swaying to the soft music playing from the hallway speakers. Daniel glances at me smirking, and I look up at him giggling, “What?”

“Nothing. You want to spin, like Marnie?” He teases, lifting our joined hands. I spin twice before bumping into his chest, giggling more. “Ooops.”

He shakes his head at me as the elevator doors open. He wraps both his arms around me, walking me backward into the elevator and I laugh into his tie. I turn around so we’re both facing the doors as he reaches around me to press the button for our floor. The mirrored doors slide closed and I meet his eyes in the reflection. We’re both grinning.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he taunts, and I stick my tongue out in the reflection. His arms tighten around me and I press backwards into his chest.

—-

Back at the room, we start to get ready for bed. We share the bathroom to brush our teeth and do our nighttime routines, playfully brushing and bumping into each other. I drag my feet, trying to make the evening last as long as possible, trying to stretch out this daydream I’m living in before we have to go home tomorrow.

I get into bed first, lying on my back and watching as Daniel pads across the room to his side of the bed. He shuts off the overhead light as he passes, leaving only the soft blue moonlight from the window covering us.

He climbs into bed next to me but stays propped up on his elbow. I look at him and he begins tracing my face with his other hand. I crinkle my nose at him, and laugh softly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

He gestures behind me to a decorative sign on the wall.

I turn my head to look at it. “I can’t read that without my contacts.”

His fingers trace over my lips, and I hold my breath at the intimate gesture.

His voice drops even softer. “It says always kiss me goodnight. So I’m waiting.”

I look back at him, expecting him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t; his eyes are sincere. I run the arm closest to him up behind his neck, catching my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He takes the hint, letting my touch guide him as he leans down and kisses me.

The kiss is sleepy, soft, lips tenderly pressed together, moving slowly against each other. It ends with a few gentle kisses that drift from my mouth to my cheek, up to my forehead. His gaze is already fixed on me when my eyes flutter back open.

I start to think about how final that kiss felt, how this is the end of our weekend of pretend; how it doesn’t make any sense that we’re kissing when no one’s here to see us, but maybe we’re both lonely and already missing the comfort, the closeness of this façade. I run my hand up from the nape of his neck to scratch gently at his scalp and his eyes flutter shut, finally breaking our eye contact.

“That feels nice,” he whispers. Wordlessly, we shift so his head is on my chest, his arm around my waist, my nails still soothingly sifting through his hair, quietly lulling him to sleep.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home — Chapter One: Flightless Bird, American Mouth

a/n: I've been working on this story for mooonths now and I'm so excited to finally share it with the world! It's heavily inspired by Harry's Behind the Album mini doc, except I changed the setting to Hawai'i because I've personally spent some time there and as they say, write what you know! YBMH takes place in the period between One Direction's hiatus and Harry's first album/tour, but with that being said, this is entirely a work of fiction and some events don't follow the true timeline. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story, I hope you love it as much as I do! It will be updated every Friday at 5 PM PST. My inbox is open, so feel free to talk to me once you've finished reading! I'd love to hear from you :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 5.5k

May, 2016

Harry watches LAX get smaller through the airplane window and visualizes all of his worries stuck at the terminal gate, their magnitude also diminishing as he takes flight. He sinks lower in his seat and skims through playlists on his phone when a nagging feeling at the back of his mind pulls his attention away from the screen. Looking up from the song choices, he spots a cell phone quickly lowered from his line of vision and a girl with flushed cheeks who quickly averts her gaze. Harry shoots a tight-lipped smile in her direction and goes back to his phone with a sigh. The days when he could roam the streets freely without fear of recognition—or worse, harassment—feel like an entirely different lifetime. He sometimes imagines that he’ll wake up back in his childhood bed as if the past five years had all been a dream, but he never does. In fact, his privacy and anonymity seem to dwindle with each minute of radio play that One Direction receives. It’s a bittersweet pill to swallow, but one he hopes will go down easier with some time in the Hawaiian sun.

His close friend and new manager, Jeff Azoff, had suggested the vacation as soon as the band privately agreed to take a hiatus.

“You’ll go home for a few weeks,” his voice had crackled through the speakers of Harry’s phone. “Visit your mom and Gem, lay low for a while until the smoke blows over,”

Harry mulled it over in his mind, eyes flickering over the rolling landscape outside of the tour bus window.

“Then what?”

“Then you go for a little vacation. The label offered to cover a house in Hawaii so you can start working on the album,”

“Alone?”

Jeff chuckled lightly on the other end before responding. “I mean, if that’s what you want,”

“No,” Harry corrected. “You and Tom should come. Mitch and Bhasker, too,”

“The dream team,”

“And there’ll be a studio there?”

“Yes,” Jeff started, almost hesitant. “But I don’t want you to think about that too much,”

“But you said the label—"

“I also said vacation. Look, Rob said ‘it will all happen in due time,' did he not?”

Harry twisted the rose ring around his finger, tracing over the silver petals and thinking back to his conversation with the CEO of Sony Music, Rob Stringer. Upon the proposal of his debut solo album, Rob had told him that the most important ingredient for a successful debut would be patience. The singer had agreed in the moment, but every day not spent in the studio felt like a test he hadn’t studied hard enough for.

“Yeah.”

“So you take the free vacation,” Jeff suggested. “You go out, live, get some writing material. Maybe mess around with some tunes. And then we come back to L.A. and get to work. But until then, I just want you to focus on taking it easy.”

So take it easy he had. Or at least he had tried to when he was back home in England. Harry quickly grew restless after what felt like the millionth awkward conversation with past friends and acquaintances, all of which eventually led to the topic of One Direction and it’s unexpected hiatus. After one month at home, his mind and journal were full of ideas for songs, things that he wanted to say before he lost his nerve. One night as he tossed and turned in bed, he shot Jeff a text, just two words that would kick off a three month getaway to the Big Island of Hawai'i:

I’m ready.

********

“Sounds great, I'll go put in your order.” Alani offers sweetly, trying not to overdo it with the customer service voice. After waiting on the family at her designated table, she heads back to the kitchen and finds her younger sister, Pua, crouched in the corner taking what appears to be a serious phone call.

“I don’t know, I just saw it!” Her sister cries in a hushed tone. “Where do you think he’s going?”

“Is everything okay?” Alani cuts in with concern.

Pua whispers into the speaker before bringing the phone to her shoulder.

“Harry Styles was just spotted on a plane this morning,”

“Who?”

“The guy from One Direction,” her sister explains with a hint of irritation in her voice. “The band who sings that song you secretly like, ‘Fireproof,'”

Alani vaguely recalls the melody, but she waits expectantly for Pua to elaborate. “And this is news because…”

“Because the band just broke up, so where could he possibly be going?”

"The unemployment office?”

Pua rolls her eyes and returns to her phone call while Alani envelops her in a tight hug.

“I’m just kidding!” Alani apologizes, squeezing tighter despite her sister’s attempts to break free. “I’m sure he’ll be living off of royalty checks until he’s, like, eighty,”

“Get off me, freak!” Pua cries out, finally breaking the embrace.

Alani clutches her chest and pulls out an invisible knife. “Ouch. I’m telling Harry you said that,”

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” the younger sister huffs, storming out of the kitchen through the employee entrance where Alani’s best friend, Maleah, has just arrived.

“Looks like someone forgot to eat their Cheerios today,” she remarks, tying her curls into a high ponytail.

Alani shrugs and leans against the counter. “She’s going through something. Just discovered that boys in pop bands are, in fact, just regular boys.”

“Poor thing,” Maleah frowns. “We all have to learn eventually.”

********

The sky is a blend of cotton candy pink and burnt orange when Alani returns home from the café with a strawberry smoothie in tow. She empties the mailbox and sorts through the various bills and advertisements, but her stomach drops when she sees a familiar return address label. After a quick greeting to her excited dog who waits at the door, Alani bolts up the stairs and quietly shuts the bedroom door behind her. Breathe, she reminds herself before tearing into the envelope and discarding it onto the wooden floor.

Dear Ms. Hale,

We are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine. However, we regret to inform you—

She doesn’t read the rest, slumping to the floor in defeat. The sixth rejection letter from Rolling Stone lies crumpled at Alani’s feet and she kicks it across the room with a frustrated grunt. She had worked for over two months perfecting her analysis of Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi and its allusions to the environmental impact of urban development in Hawaii. As part of her initial research, Alani had even traveled to both the Royal Hawaiian hotel in Honolulu, which is the famous Pink Hotel mentioned in the song, and Foster Botanical Garden that Mitchell referred to as “the tree museum.” She was certain that her effort and persistence would result in at least a consideration. The second third time's the charm! Maleah had joked watching Alani submit the piece. Six articles in the span of two years, each one facing the same rejection despite the increased effort Alani had put in over time. The fact that the rejection letter hadn’t changed over the course of the two years brings an incredulous smile to her face, and her stomach turns when she considers that the editors probably hadn’t even read her work, anyway. All that effort, she thinks to herself, all that time, for nothing.

“It will take time,” her favorite professor, Dr. Hudson, had reassured her three months after the Joni Mitchell article was submitted. “Every great writer faced countless rejection until that one piece. Yours will come. Keep your eyes open and your pen ready.”

Alani sighs and lifts herself off the floor, choosing to crawl into her unmade bed instead of slumping onto the hardwood. She hears a soft scratching at the door before her King Charles Spaniel, Freddie, pads into the room.

“Come here, bubs,” Alani whispers. He obeys and burrows into the duvet, giving her temple a gentle lick before nuzzling into the nape of her neck.

“You still love me, right?” she asks, voice cracking. “Even if I’m a failure?”

Freddie sniffs her ear in response.

********

“Right,” Harry says, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth as he reads the map. “No, left, sorry,”

“Do you actually know how to read a map?” Jeff teases, correcting the turn.

Harry pouts in response, his brows furrowing. “In my defense, we’re literally in the middle of fucking nowhere,”

“There are worse places to be,” Mitch pipes up from the back seat. “England, for example, where they say things like ‘litchrally’,”

“Very well said, Mitchell,” Jeff Bhasker adds with a fake British accent of his own.

Harry turns to his friends in the back seat with a finger pointed like an agitated mother. “If you lot don’t shut up, I’m gonna lead us to a volcano and push you in,”

“Where are we even going? I forgot,” Tom complains.

“To get food,” his manager responds from the driver’s seat. “I think,”

“Why can’t we just stop there?” Mitch asks pointing to a café pulling up on their right.

Jeff merges into the turning lane quickly without a second thought. “Good enough for me, I’m starving.”

“Sorry, H.” Mitch pats his friend on the shoulder.

Harry scoffs. “You’re the one who wanted poke.”

The Aloha Nui Loa Café is much more spacious than the exterior suggests, yet it still feels cozy. The walls are painted sage green and adorned with various local art pieces, as described by the plaques that accompany them. A skylight fills the center of the room with plenty of warm lighting, leaving the space along the walls in a bit more shade for an intimate feel. In one corner, a hanging disco ball leaves freckles of sparkling light along the walls where the sunlight hits, making the whole image very idyllic in Harry’s mind. As if he couldn’t enjoy the setting more, he hears the beginning of an Otis Redding song that he’s had stuck in his head drift through the restaurant speakers.

“Welcome in!” a voice calls, which pulls him from his survey of the room. His head whips to the source—a girl around his age with wavy, dark hair and honey skin. “For here or to go?”

Harry takes a hesitant step up to the counter. “For here,”

She smiles warmly and pulls some menus from under the counter. “How many in your party?”

“Five.”

“Great, follow me.”

Harry and his friends follow the waitress to the corner of the room under the disco ball and take their seats at the round table.

“My name is Alani,” she introduces herself, setting the menus down. “I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Harry continues scanning the restaurant while his group orders. His eyes land on the shirt that Alani is wearing, a white tee with the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey” in blue lettering that surrounds a picture of a cartoon bee.

“Harry,” Jeff says gently, catching his drifting attention.

The singer turns to his manager, who nods to Alani waiting with a pen pressed to her notepad. Harry feels a rush of embarrassment creep across his cheeks and he clears his throat to cover it.

“Just water,” he says, eyes glued to the menu. “Thanks.”

“You got it.” Alani nods, flashing a toothy grin at the rest of the group before turning back to the kitchen. Harry. Her mind repeats, finding a hint of familiarity, though she doesn’t know why.

When Alani arrives at the drink station, she finds her sister staring at her, mouth agape, while Maleah unsuccessfully conceals her laughter.

“What?” she questions, checking herself for any embarrassing stains or smells.

“You were—and he—” Pua stammers. “He was—and then he—”

“That’s Harry Styles,” Maleah translates, her voice hushed as she peers over her friend's shoulder.

Alani turns to steal a glance at the table she just seated, but Pua and Maleah latch onto her and shake their heads frantically.

“Don’t look!” her sister hisses.

Alani smirks, amused at their reactions. “No shit. That’s One Direction?”

Maleah snorts, clasping a hand over her mouth as Pua huffs. “No, dumbass! It’s just Harry. I don’t know who the other guys are,”

“But the blonde guy? That’s not—?”

“No!” Pua and Maleah giggle in unison.

“Okay, geez,” Alani relents. She manages to steal a quick glance at the table over her shoulder, immediately searching for Harry. Her eyes scan over the long, curly hair kept out of his face by a pair of white sunglasses that she had seen on Kurt Cobain once. All of his features are sharp and striking, from his pointed nose and defined jawline to the bright blue eyes. Or maybe they were grey? Alani wonders, trying to remember the exact shade. He doesn’t look anything like the fresh-faced teeny bopper she’d had in mind, the one from a music video her sister had shown her a long time ago. She would have never guessed that the What Makes You Beautiful singer had so much dark ink trailing down his bicep and forearm, though her knowledge of One Direction was very limited.

“What did he order?” Pua questions, her eyes wide.

Alani quickly snaps back to reality and resumes filling the drinks. “A water,”

“Oh my god,” Maleah swoons. “I’m never drinking anything else ever again,”

“I didn’t even know you liked him,” Alani teases with an eyebrow raised.

Maleah sneaks another peek at the table and catches her lower lip between her teeth. “I mean, I didn’t really think so either but look at him. What a fucking dream,”

Harry was objectively handsome, this Alani could admit, but she personally didn’t see the appeal and had a strong feeling that he was just like every other male celebrity. The fact that he hadn’t even bothered to make eye contact with her only served as further proof of what she knew to be true.

“Okay, well, your dreamboat is waiting for his water. So excuse me,” Alani winks, making her way back to the table.

The singer spots Alani returning out of the corner of his eye and the sight of her causes a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach that makes him want to duck for cover. Instead, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and pretends to be occupied with something on the screen.

“Okay,” she greets, setting the drink tray down. “I have a Blue Hawaii, a Mango Mama, two Loco Cocos, and a water,”

The group graciously accepts their drinks with a chorus of “thank you," but the only one under Alani’s scrutiny is Harry. He still doesn’t meet her almond eyes, and though she figured he wouldn’t, she can’t help the inkling of disappointment that washes over her. After taking their meal orders, Alani heads back to the kitchen, checking on her other customers along the way. Harry’s eyes follow her and he observes the way customers light up at her presence, indulging her conversation with laughter. He watches as she lingers by the jukebox in one corner of the room, a detail he had missed in his initial scan, and waits anxiously to see what song she chooses. Baby I’m-a Want You begins softly and Harry feels the corner of his lip curl ever so slightly. Good choice, he thinks.

********

“He’s still here,” Pua muses, peering through the tiny window in the kitchen door. It had been nearly two hours and the five men were still seated around their table cracking jokes and doing a lot of talking with their hands.

Alani doesn’t look up from her bowl of sliced kiwis, offering a hum in response. “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“Nothing,” Pua shoots back. “Don’t bother him,”

“What kind of girls do you think he’s into?” Maleah asks, attempting to peek through the window.

Alani shrugs, bored of the conversation and of thinking about Harry. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet he’s a real sucker for the ones who stalk him while he’s eating,”

“How does he make eating a salad look hot?”

“Can we talk about something else now?” Alani whines, poking holes in a lone kiwi with her fork.

Pua tosses a wet dish rag in her sister’s direction and cheers when it lands in her face. “Go see if he wants more water, he looks thirsty.”

“I already refilled it,” Alani defends. “Twenty minutes ago. I’ve refilled it a hundred times, I’m surprised he hasn’t peed his pants.”

I’m gonna piss myself. Harry thinks, his right leg bouncing to distract himself. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. He really wasn’t all that thirsty, but he couldn’t stop himself from finishing each glass of water that Alani placed in front of him. Like clockwork, she would return to fill his glass almost as soon as the last drop had been drained, and so what began as a little experiment slowly turned into a bladder hazard. But if the trend was to be trusted, she would be back any minute and he wasn’t going to miss it; afterall, there were only so many ways to casually linger in a small café without making it weird. Unable to bear it any longer, he heads to the restroom and hopes that Alani doesn’t clear their table before he has a chance to see her again.

Harry pads down the back hallway with his eyes cast down at the floor, which proves to be a mistake when he walks directly into another person.

“Sorry!” they both apologize quickly, Harry’s palm taking purchase on the other person’s upper arm.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” he offers, finally meeting the dark, mocha eyes already looking back at him.

Alani presses her lips into a tight smile. “Me either,”

Harry’s heartbeat picks up when he realizes it’s her, and he isn’t aware of how close they’re standing until he detects the faint scent of kiwi on her breath. He takes a step back and rakes a hand through his hair.

“So I guess I’ll just—”

“Yeah, sure.”

Green. Alani notes to herself. His eyes are green.

********

Shortly after Harry returned from the restroom, him and his friends settled their bill and headed out. Alani cleared their table and her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the hefty tip left behind. The word mahalo was also left behind on the receipt, underlined twice, and she wondered if it was his handwriting.

Later that night, she settled into bed with her laptop and hesitantly typed his name into Google. As she expected, countless articles about the split of One Direction emerged, most of them speculating what was next for each member. To her surprise, however, Harry’s name seemed to be mentioned more than his fellow bandmates as various sources labeled him “the next Justin Timberlake” and rising star of the group. Upon further investigation, she learned that the demand for information about the elusive Harry Styles was high, especially concerning any possible solo music. No news had yet been confirmed by Styles himself, nor anyone claiming to represent him, but she still wondered if his presence in Hawaii had anything to do with a possible solo project. Almost as soon as she thought it, Alani dismissed the theory in favor of the idea that he was most likely just taking a vacation. And from the buzz that she saw surrounding the news about One Direction, she couldn’t blame him.

The more Alani read, the more she wanted to know, and something deep down told her that his was a story worth telling. Of course, the only problem was that she had hardly talked to him, and there were only so many things she could say about the fifteen glasses of water he downed. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again, either, or if he was merely stopping in Hilo on his way to another island or somewhere else entirely. Alani sighed, thinking back to her most recent rejection from Rolling Stone. She knew that there was no possible way she would ever see or talk to Harry ever again, and even if she did, why would he bare his entire soul to a stranger? Still, she let her mind wander through the possibility.

Dear Ms. Hale, the letter would read, we are very grateful to have received your submission to Rolling Stone magazine and are pleased to inform you that your piece on Harry Styles will be featured in next month’s issue. Additionally, we would be honored to have you on staff, effective immediately.

It was far-fetched, Alani knew this, but she dozed off that night with endless ideas swimming in her head.

********

By the third day after his visit, the only trace of Harry is in Alani’s search history. She would have completely forgotten about him if it weren’t for her sister’s constant reminiscing and multiple attempts to rename the house salad to the “Harry Special.” As a result, a part of Alani’s thoughts periodically linger back to that day and the subsequent hours spent on Google that she’d rationalized as research instead of stalking. Somehow the knowledge that she’ll never see him again only adds fuel to the questions still burning in her mind, but a customer clearing their throat while she sorts menus below the hostess podium interrupts her thoughts.

“Welcome in!” She calls, standing. “What can I—”

She stops in her tracks, unable to believe her eyes. Harry blinks and waits for her to continue.

“What can I get started for you?” Alani tries again, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her shock. Luckily for her, Harry had been too focused on choosing his next words to register her mistake.

“What’s in the Honu smoothie?” he asks, mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question when the menu just inches above her head clearly spells it out.

Alani hums, thinking back to the times she had made the smoothie herself. “Kiwis, spinach, mango, avocado, and a hint of lime,”

“I’ll take one of those,” Harry says, reaching for his wallet.

Alani punches in the order with trembling fingers and nods. “For here or to go?”

“To go,”

Disappointment fills her chest. Sure, she hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again, but the fact that she did felt like a sign. If she wanted to take the chance, she’d have to do it fast.

“Anything else?” she asks, weighing her options while he skims the menu.

“No thanks.”

Alani makes the smoothie quickly, head spinning. She had spent most of the night after their initial meeting planning out exactly the type of questions she hoped to ask him and what kind of article she would write. She was used to writing about what she knew—artists and music she’d admired for years— but she figured that starting fresh with someone she hardly knew would be a good challenge. Not to mention that it seemed like just the thing Rolling Stone would jump for. Alani finally works up the courage as she finishes his smoothie, but when she returns to hand it to him and hopefully strike up a conversation, his ear is pressed to his cell phone. She holds out the drink and he graciously accepts, giving her a small nod as a “thank you” and rushing out of the restaurant.

Two days later he returns and is seated at the counter, typing away on his phone. Alani feels both a rush of optimism and annoyance at the universe for dangling his presence so unexpectedly. She starts heading over to him, but Maleah cuts in.

“Trade me?” she proposes, eyes wide.

Alani blinks. “Oh, I would but I—”

“Please,” her best friend pouts. “I’m leaving to see my grandparents in stupid California for two months. Who knows when I’ll get the chance to see him again?”

Alani sighs, but gives in, reluctantly exchanging Harry for the family of four seated by the window. A strange feeling settles into the pit of his stomach when he sees that she heads in the opposite direction after a hushed conversation with another waitress. He doesn’t know why she traded him for a different customer, but he takes the hint.

A week goes by without another sighting of Harry and Alani has permanently taken on the role of greeting hostess in hopes of seeing him again. Her heartbeat temporarily speeds up when she sees a long haired customer approach the door, but her spirits quickly fall when the face doesn’t match his.

Another week brings another disappointing realization that Harry might be gone for good. One rainy morning when the restaurant is quiet and only two customers huddle together in a booth near the back, Alani hunches over the hostess podium and doodles on a stray receipt— a sunflower, a crescent moon, and two hearts. The bell above the door jingles but she doesn’t look up, too absorbed in her scribbles.

“Do you serve coffee?”

The familiar accented voice stops Alani’s pen dead in its tracks. She lifts her eyes first to confirm, and then straightens up when she sees that her ears haven’t deceived her.

“Yes,” she swallows.

“Great. I’ll take it to go,”

She slightly deflates, but Harry thinks he’s reading too much into it.

“Actually,” he corrects anyway, just in case he isn’t. “I think I’ll stay for a while,”

Alani flashes a warm smile and nods in the direction of the counter. “Right this way,”

Harry sheds his windbreaker onto the back of the seat, revealing a black and white Rolling Stones t-shirt that makes Alani’s blood pressure rise. A sign, she thinks.

“What do you want in your coffee?” she questions carefully.

“Nothing,” he responds, shaking out his damp hair gently. “Or actually, uh, butter...if you have some,”

Alani blinks, not sure if she’d heard correctly or if there had been some transatlantic miscommunication.

“Butter?”

“Yeah,”

“Like the—”

“Spread, yeah,” Harry confirms. “It’s weird, I know,”

She lets out a light-hearted laugh and nods. “It’s a...unique request,”

“I thought the same thing at first,” Harry confides. “It’s not bad, actually. But maybe I’ve just been in L.A. for too long.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She offers a polite smile and heads to the kitchen where the cook and two other waiters talk amongst each other. Alani is grateful that the restaurant is slow this morning because she knows that it means minimal interruptions to her time with Harry. To ensure this, though, she asks one of the other waiters to cover the podium and returns to Harry with his coffee.

“One butter coffee, free of judgement,” the waitress announces, setting it down.

Harry grins softly, stirring the drink with the spoon Alani provided. “You can judge, it’s alright,”

“I just wanna know why,”

The coffee had been part of a fad diet while on tour in order to boost Harry’s energy on stage and stay trim for the hundreds of photo-ops he would be a part of. He doesn’t know how to communicate all of this to Alani, however, not sure how much she knows about that part of him, so he shrugs and tells a simplified version of the truth.

“I read about this trend a while back, it's called bulletproof coffee. Supposed to get your energy up and I needed it for my job,”

“Which is…” Alani trails off, downplaying the knowledge that she had acquired from Google.

“I make music,” is all Harry says and he takes a sip of the drink to avoid elaborating.

“Anything I would have heard?”

He swallows hard and listens to the faint rumbling of thunder outside before replying. “Possibly,”

“Try me,” Alani challenges.

He narrows his eyes and takes another sip of coffee. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself first?”

“What do you wanna know?”

Everything, Harry responds internally, though he reigns it in. “How you got into waitressing,”

Alani sighs, resting her elbows on the counter across from him. “There’s not much to tell, it’s a family business. What I really wanna do is write,”

“Music?”

“Articles. I’m studying Journalism at UH,”

Harry hums in response, filing the detail away in the back of his mind. “Sounds interesting. You ever publish anything?”

“Not yet,” Alani shakes her head gently, toying with the sleeves of her green University of Hawaii crewneck. “Hopefully soon, though,”

Harry racks his brain for something else to say, but before he can, Alani speaks up again.

“Is it my turn to ask something now?”

He offers a curt nod and stirs his coffee.

“What kind of music do you write?”

Harry chooses to be vague again. “Different stuff. Pop, usually. Been messing with some classic rock, though,”

“Explains the shirt,”

He peers down at the design on his tee and agrees. “Yeah, I guess so,”

“Do you like it?” Alani asks, her eyes begging to make contact with his again. “Writing music, I mean,”

“Yeah,” Harry confirms, tapping his spoon against the rim of the mug. “I really do,”

Alani’s heart pounds. This is her chance, a moment to finally secure her breakthrough piece. She doesn’t know how to approach it, so she opts to dive right in without looking back. The worst he can say is no.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“That’s cheating,” Harry teases lightly. “It's my turn,”

She pouts playfully, but obliges. “Fire away,”

Harry doesn’t know which question to ask first, but when he glances down at the crescent moon inked on her wrist, he decides to start there.

“What’s with the moon tattoo?”

Alani isn’t sure what she expected him to ask and wonders what purpose such a detail could possibly serve him, but she answers anyway.

“Oh, well,” she begins, tracing her index finger over the outline. “It’s kinda the meaning of my full name. It’s Mahealani, Hawaiian for ‘heavenly moon,'”

Fitting, Harry comments to himself. Every detail he learns about her makes him want to learn that much more, from her favorite foods to the last thing she thinks about before falling asleep. Studying her expectant eyes, he suddenly remembers that it’s his turn to respond.

“That’s cool,” is all he says.

Alani doesn’t know what to make of the faraway look in his eye, but she decides to pose her most burning question while he appears to be in good spirits.

“I know this is gonna sound totally out of the blue,” she starts, working past the lump in her throat. “But when you mentioned how you write music, I was just reminded of this assignment I’m working on in my class,”

Harry waits for her to continue, nursing his now lukewarm coffee.

“I’m supposed to write a piece about someone who I don’t know that well,” she continues. “You know, to practice our interviewing skills. And, well, I was just kind of wondering if you might be interested in helping me out—being the subject, I mean,”

Alani had every intention of telling Harry the truth, about how she really planned to submit the article to Rolling Stone in hopes of securing an internship before her college graduation next Spring. But as she started speaking, she quickly realized how it would come off: a complete stranger asking for personal information to submit to a well-known publication. She knew that there was a chance he would shut down and never return, so she lowered the stakes and hoped that this route would be less risky. Was it ethical? Alani hadn’t decided yet, but she would work out the details later. After six failed articles and two years of rejection, she saw a ray of hope and wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Harry ponders her offer for a moment, which confirms that she had recognized him. Normally he would be off-put by such a request, and to a certain extent he is, but there is something sincere in her voice that he trusts deep down. Before he agrees, however, he decides to fish around a bit to test her reaction.

“You know who I am,” he says gently. “Don’t you?”

Alani’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach, not sure what to say next. She hopes with every fiber of her being that she hasn’t upset him, or worse, ruined her chances, so she decides to offer some truth to throw him off her scent.

“My sister recognized you,” she explains. “That day you came in with your friends. I thought they were your bandmates at first,”

This lets Harry know that she isn’t a total stalker, which is comforting, but he wouldn’t have been minded if she were a fan simply engaging in conversation.

“Oh,” he laughs weakly.

“I totally understand if you say no,” Alani offers quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I just thought it was worth a shot. And that it might be more interesting than interviewing our produce guy,”

Harry decides to give her one last scan for any sign of insincerity. He’d always felt that his gut instinct was strong and it hadn’t led him astray thus far.

“An interview?” he clarifies.

“Just one,” Alani promises. “An hour, tops. And you can proofread all of it once I’ve finished, too.”

Harry waits a beat, already knowing his reply, but he wants to see how she will react to his silence. She doesn’t budge, almond eyes set and determined.

“Okay.”

next chapter

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

Hi, I've never done this before but I was wondering of you could do a scenario where the boys (separate) meet your parents and/or family for the first time. (I love your blog btw, you make my days more enjoyable

God this ask is so freaking cute. Pardon any spelling errors/grammar mistakes cause I did this on my phone at 5:30 in the morning lmao. Also, I'm going by the ~average~ nuclear family of one mom and one dad (even if my own household isn't like that lmao)

The Lost Boys x Meeting the Parents

David

Will pretend that he doesn't care if your family likes him or not, but he actually Does™

He's not gonna change his look or anything for your parents. He just doesn't want them to be against him or to be an obstacle in any way that would prevent you from seeing him. Your parents not liking him could be a real pain in the ass, and you remind him of that right before the two of you leave. It's basically a reminder to be on his best behavior

It takes forever to actually convince him to meet them because he's kinda like- who needs parents when you're a vampire ahahaha. Plus the only parent he has to base judgement on is Max so he doesn't have high expectations.

But if your parents do like him,,,,and your dad calls him son? Oh god daddy issues have been activated

Your dad put a hand on his shoulder and complimented his hair what do you mean he can't move in???? (If you tell the others they will make jokes that David wants to fuck your dad I'm sorry)

David is a little bit more wary of your mom, but he's still nicer to her than he would be to Max. Basically, David just tones down being a dick and that's it. He's a pretty charming guy when he wants to be so he'd probably 8/10 get your parents approval. Especially if David keeps up the whole "gentleman" thing since he's from like the late 1800s.

Will most likely end up on a first name basis with your parents by the end of the night

Dwayne

He thinks meeting the parents is important, not because he wants their approval, but because it's a big step in the relationship. It's just solidifying what you currently have and Dwayne is cool with that

Didn't really take much convincing. You just invited him to dinner one night and he just goes "Cool."

Harder to convince him to wear a shirt though. This will take forever, rip your parents but Dwayne likes having his tiddies out. Best you can do is get him to wear a wife beater that shows just a little bit too much side-boob y'know the ones I'm talking about

Dwayne just had a way,,,with parents. He starts off very polite with a, "Hello Mr and Mrs. _____" and you stand to the side as your parents welcome him in like he's always been there. It's been five minutes and your mom is already insisting on him calling her by her first name. He's not a talker but he does put in a little bit more effort around your folks. Doesn't really matter either way though cause your parents already love him

You pull him aside to ask him if he pulled any mind tricks on them but he's just like, "Nah."

Moms love Dwayne. I'm sorry but they do. He eats a lot and he's not picky so once he's cleared his second plate your mom is just fawning over how he's a "big growing boy" and even if Dwayne hasn't aged a day in like nearly a century he still plays into it. Your dad will ask him questions and the two of them talk about Car Stuff™

Dwayne will 10/10 steal your parents sorry I don't make the rules they're his parents now

Marko

Has absolutely no will or desire to meet your parents I'm sorry. Will probably avoid the meeting for as long as possible. It's not until you're genuinely starting to get pissed at him that he'll groan for a solid minute before saying, "Fine. Fucking fine."

Marko will Not™ change for the meeting. The crop top stays on. So do the leather chaps. It's not dinner attire but Marko makes a point to not changr

Marko acts this way because he's the most androgynous and he's the least likely to be accepted by 80s standards rip. He's just prepping to be hated, even if you swear that your parents won't be assholes

Marko is welcomed into your home and is,,,,, uncomfortable. He tries to make small talk but it's hard to filter out all the curse words he says on a daily basis. He's the second quietest of the boys, so he just clams up whenever he feels like he's making an ass out of himself. Is mostly just overthinking so rip this vampire

Even if your parents like him, it's hard for him to accept that. He just assumes that they won't because he's grown used to Max for like the past century. Is weirdly??? Liked by one parent??? And not the other??? (Most likely your dad because Masculinity™)

May not be popular with your parents but if you have any pets- ohhoHO

Will lay on the floor with a furry friend or will stare inside the cage of your family pet. Marko may not be good with parents but he just Gets™ animals

Solid 7/10 of whether or not your parents like him cause they just think that he's "interesting", but will 10/10 steal your dogs love and affection

Paul

Most excited to meet your parents and will meet them the earliest out of all the boys

There's no convincing him to change any aspect of his outfit, even the mesh shirt so- don't even ask because Paul will just find a way to turn it into flirting ("trying to get me out of my clothes, babe?")

Honestly, you're gonna have to warn your parents more than you're gonna have to warn Paul

Paul is the type to immediately call your parents mom and dad. Like, they open the door and he hugs both of them like they're his very own parents. Is just as affectionate with your parents as he is with everyone else i.e. kisses your mom's cheek and gives your dad friendly pats on the back. Let's just say your parents are,,,,Bewildered™ but oddly charmed

Paul is like a walking tornado and let's just say that, while Paul is very friendly, your parents aren't super impressed by how "lax" he is. Basically, Paul screams sex, drugs, and rock and roll and this was the 80s parents worst nightmare

He somehow eats three plates of food and your parents are just in a constant state of confusion. Paul is as polite as he can be and thanks your mom, might even offer to help wash the dishes, and has started to affectionately call your dad "pops" before the night is over

Paul thinks the night went great and really likes your parents but there's a 5/10 chance that they actually like him back. Paul promises to come back soon and somehow you know he isn't kidding

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 13.

Chapter 13: Planning

Summary: Bridgett freaks out and panics when she waits on the results of a very important test. She forgets about it and Spencer finds it. Planning for their future ensues. 

TW: Mentions of pregnancy, language, slight mention of injury and blood, dirty talk, talk of breeding, fingering, orgasm denial (non intentional). 

Word Count: 2.9k

A.N.: Guess who almost forgot to post today? 😳 This is chapter 10 Spencer as well! Next chapter out on Saturday!

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

Bridgett sits on the edge of her bathtub, picking at the hangnail on her thumb, her leg bouncing up and down quickly as she waits for the timer to go off. Bridgett was now officially almost 7 weeks late, and now she was starting to panic. Spencer and her hadn’t been extremely cautious the entirety of their relationship, even the night in Idaho they weren’t careful, but they were careful enough to not be worried about the outcome. She looks at the timer on her phone, how the hell had it only been 30 seconds?

How am I going to tell Spencer? How am I going to tell the team? Can I even still work if I’m pregnant? JJ worked. Just not in the field. Do I still even want to work after I have the baby? What am I going to name the baby? Is it going to look like me, or Spencer? What if I have twins? Nana Rosie is a twin. Twins run in the family. Am I going to let my family see the baby? Am I going to tell my family I’m having a baby? Why did you let him cum in you, you idiot?!

“Bridgett?” Spencer’s voice echoes through her apartment.

“I-uh-I’m in the bathroom. Hold on!” She yells back, grabbing the test and throwing it in one of the drawers in the sink.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Bridgett flips the sink handle on quickly to drown out the sound of her panic.

Well you gave him the key! Of course he’s going to come over unannounced, you dummy.

“Okay, you’re fine. Relax. Just don’t mention the fact you might have his child growing inside you!” Bridgett whisper yells to herself in the mirror. She wets the rag hanging up on the wall and presses it against her face, taking deep breaths before drying her face and shutting the water off and heading out to see her boyfriend. Bridgett can hear him fiddling around in the kitchen, one of the pans falling to the floor loudly, Spencer cussing to himself. Bridgett laughs, making him turn around.

“Hi.” He smiles innocently, picking the pan up off the floor and putting it in her sink.

Bridgett smiles, leaning up to kiss him. “Hi my love. Whatcha doing?”

“Well, I wanted to make you dinner since tomorrow is a special day and we have work tomorrow. And these… are for you.” Spencer pulls a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back, trying to play it off as a magic trick but he really pulled them off the counter behind him. But Bridgett wasn’t going to let him know she knew his secret.

“Aww, thank you baby. They’re very pretty.” She gushes, kissing him twice. “Can you hand me the tall vase up there above your head?”

“I should tell you, one of the flowers is fake. I also have this card for you.” He says, pulling the card out of his satchel.

It was a homemade card, cut in the shape of a heart. She pouted her lip out exaggerated, making puppy dog eyes at him. It could have been the possible pregnancy hormones, or the fact that her boyfriend was the sweetest person on the face of this earth, but she could have cried right then.

“You gotta read it too.” Spencer says, beaming down at her.

Bridgett opens the card, a short message written on the inside.

“My love for you will last until the final flower dies. I will forever be grateful that I have you and have the pleasure of loving you. -Spencer”

Bridgett melts into his arms, nuzzling into his chest. “I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you too.” He responds, pressing a kiss to her head. “I’m going to make a little surprise first for you in the kitchen, why don’t you go take a nap, because you need to not be anywhere in there.” Spencer says, gripping her shoulders and turning her around toward her room.

“Are you kicking me out of my own kitchen?” Bridgett laughs at Spencer herding her out of the room and into her room.

“Take a nap, and I’ll come join you in about an hour.”

“Okay.” She responds, kissing his lips lightly. “Just don’t burn my kitchen down.”

Spencer rolls his eyes teasingly and shuts the door behind him. Bridgett kicks her shorts off and climbs into bed, snuggling underneath her sheets.

***

“Bridge?... Bridge?... Bridgy?” Spencer calls her name, softly shaking her shoulder. Bridgett finally jumps awake, her eyes wide as she looks at Spencer. Once she registers that it was Spencer she lays her head back down on the pillow.

“Hmm?”

“Do you uh… have band aids? I had an incident.”

Bridgett lifts her head to look at where his wound was but Spencer hid his hands behind his back where she couldn’t see.

“In my bathroom. First drawer on your left. Are you bleeding to death?”

“No! I’m…” Spencer stops mid sentence, his voice tapering off.

Bridgett waits for him to finish his thought but the room falls silent again.

“Spence?” Bridgett calls out, lifting her head again. The door to her bedroom was still open but she could see the light to her bathroom reflecting under the door. “Spence? Did you find them?” She asks again, kicking the sheets off and crawling out of bed . Bridgett pushes the door open and sees Spencer still standing in her bathroom, his back turned away from her.

“Spence? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself that bad?”

Spencer turns around, the blue and white stick in his hand.

Shit.

“Shit.” Bridgett sighs, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“Are you… are you pregnant?” Spencer asks, looking back at the test.

“I don’t know… I took the test and was waiting and then I heard you come in so I threw it in the drawer and forgot about it.”

“Do you think you are?”

Bridgett shrugs her shoulders, “I’m late. I didn’t get my period last month and I was supposed to get it a week and a half ago and it never came so I just wanted to see. It could be a lot of reasons why I’m late but me being pregnant could be a big reason. We’ve never been careful, and I’ve been lax on my birth control.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re late sooner? Tell me you were going to take a test?”

“Because why worry you unless it’s real? I don’t think having a baby is something both of us really want… at least not right now. Right?”

“I always figured if you got pregnant, then it just happened and you would decide what you wanted to do from there, if not then we would just wait until we were ready.”

“Are the results still on there?” Bridgett asks, walking up to Spencer. He shows her the test, the screen reading.

Inconclusive

“Damn it. I’m going to have to take another one.”

“Do you want me to run to the store and get you another test?” Spencer questions, throwing the stick in the trash.

“No, the box comes with two. I didn’t take the other one. I can actually do it now.” Bridgett says, grabbing the extra test and opening the wrapper around it. Spencer stayed in place, watching her.

“Spence… I would rather you not watch me please.”

“Right, sorry.” He awkwardly replies, exiting the room.

Spencer paces around the living room waiting for Bridgett to be done. His head was swimming with “What if’s”. And maybe he was a little excited to possibly be a dad, it might not have been when he wanted, but he’s always heard people say “You’re never fully ready to be a parent.” And maybe they weren’t ready but they would figure it out together.

“Okay we have to wait 3 minutes.” Bridgett says, walking into the living room to see Spencer still pacing. “You’re nervous.”

“Ye-yeah a little bit. Aren’t you?”

Bridgett sits on the couch crisscross, patting the spot next to her. Spencer joins her on the couch, putting his hands on top of hers that were shaking a little bit.

“Yeah of course I am. This definitely wasn’t in our plans but if I’m pregnant… then we’re going to be parents.” She laughs a little bit. “And I’m kind of excited to possibly raise a baby with you.”

“Yeah, I am too.” Spencer says, kissing the back of her hand. “And I hope they look like you.”

Maybe being possibly pregnant wasn’t absolutely horrible. Sure Spencer was scared, but he was taking it a lot easier than Bridgett thought he was. There was no doubt that Spencer was going to be the world’s best dad, especially since his own father wasn’t there.

“Since when has 3 minutes felt like 3 hours?” Spencer complains.

“This is my second time waiting, trust me I know the feeling.”

The pair sat together trying to find anything to talk about to distract them from how slow time was actually moving. But everything that they talked about somehow led back to Bridgett potentially being pregnant.

Finally the timer that Bridgett had set went off, both Spencer and Bridgett getting up from the couch together and walking to the bathroom. Bridgett walks in by herself, picking up the plastic stick and looking at the digital screen. Bridgett bit her bottom lip to avoid making the face she wanted to make.

Disappointed.

Bridgett looks over at Spencer, handing him the test with a sad look on her face.

“No?” Spencer questions, taking it from her and looking for himself.

“No. I guess my body is stressed out and that’s why I’m late. But I’m not pregnant.” She responds, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

Spencer kisses her shoulder, trying to make her feel better.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know it was a scary thought at first, but then once we started talking about it, the thought of having a baby with you sounded perfect.”

“Maybe we should talk some more about it.” Bridgett says matter of factly.

“Yeah? You want to start a family?”  Spencer asks, trying to suppress a smile from creeping across his face.

“Come lay down with me in bed and we can talk about it.”

Both of them walk out into her bedroom, Spencer crawling in first and Bridgett laying right on top of him, laying her head on his chest and Spencer’s fingers playing with her hair instantly.

“So, you’re serious about wanting a baby with me?” Spencer asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t serious I wouldn’t continue having unprotected sex with you. We’ve been together for 5 years, you know minus me leaving for a year and then you know you were involved with someone else when I came back. You’ve been a part of my life for 8 years and I would like to think it’s time to maybe be a ‘conventional’ couple and have a baby… or two.”

“Or two? Let’s get past the first one and then we’ll talk about a second one.”

“Maybe we should try for… hmmm 6.” Bridgett jokes, turning onto her belly to see her boyfriend's reaction.

Spencer gives off a fake laugh, rolling his head against the pillow under him. “I don’t think so. We can talk about having…” Spencer pauses, thinking before he answers. “Three. Maybe 4. 4 might take some convincing.”’

“I think both you and I know I can be very good at convincing.” Bridgett says with a playful smile on her face. She sits up on her knees, pulling Spencer up to sit up against her headboard, he licks his lips as Bridgett climbs in his lap, smirking at him as she settles into him, rubbing his face.

“You think you have me wrapped around your finger don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Ask the team, they’ll confirm you are. It’s not a bad thing. I like that you’d do anything to make me happy. Because I’d do the same.”

Spencer kisses her lips softly, careful not to make any sudden moves that would lead to the multiple rounds of sex they were going to have anyways.

“You do a lot to make me happy, Bridgy. You didn’t complain about going to the Edgar Allen Poe puppet theater with me even though I know you didn’t want to go. Or any of the lectures you’ve gone with me to. All the Doctor Who episodes you’ve sat through.”

“I want to make your nerdy brain happy.” Bridgett smiles, kissing him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and moaning into his mouth. She quickly pulls back from the kiss.

“You know I mean ‘nerdy’ in the most loving way possible, right?”

Spencer laughs, squeezing her cheeks in his hands, making her look like a little chipmunk. “Yes I know.”

Bridgett nods her head, going back in for a kiss. It wasn’t long before both of them were shirtless and needy for each other, Spencer nipping at the skin on her exposed chest when Bridgett pulls back from the kiss for air, which makes her whine.

“Are you trying to make a baby tonight?” Bridgett jokes, feeling Spencer’s soft touch on her shoulder blade while he sucks the light tan skin of her collarbone. Bridgett gasps, feeling him lick the bruise he was making.

“Why not? We could try for a Halloween baby.” He whispers in her ear. “We both love Halloween.” Spencer’s fingers slipping underneath her underwear and diving right into her soaking wet middle.

Bridgett’s head falls back a sigh of relief echoing in the room, feeling his fingers slip inside her. “Sounds like a plan.” She responds, drowning everything else going on in her mind out and focusing on the pleasure her boyfriend was giving her.

“Lay down right here in between my legs.” Spencer says, assisting Bridgett down onto her back. She rests her legs on both sides of Spencer’s upper thighs, open to him, but a fabric barrier standing between what Spencer was craving. He pulls the waistband down her hips, Bridgett lifting her butt up to get them all the way off.

“So pretty.” Spencer says low, massaging both sides of her inner thighs. Bridgett watches Spencer’s face as he studies her body;  every curve she has, the stretch marks she was still insecure about, the cute moles scattered throughout her stomach. He gives his middle and ring finger a coating of spit then slides his fingers back inside her. Spencer loved being able to see her full body reaction to his touch. She massaged her nipples as he played with the wetness, moaning softly.

“I love you, Spence.”

Spencer looks over at her angelic face, her brown eyes were half open but were focused on him.

“I love you too. Just think, in a few months we’re going to have proof of our love. You want me to put a baby in you?”

Bridgett didn’t know what it was, but hearing Spencer ask if he wanted her to put a baby in her made her clench around his fingers. It turned her on to hear him want to take their relationship to the next level.

“Yes. I want you to put a baby in me, Spence. I want to have your baby.”

His fingers continued to thrust in and out of her dripping core, trying to quickly coax an orgasm out of her before fucking her. Bridgett stared at him, the best she could, as he fingered her. She almost wanted to take a picture of the way his mouth was parted, his tongue licking his lips every so often which made his lips look so plump and kissable. Spencer could tell when she was close every single time by the way her body tensed, and her walls got more slick, and this time was no different.

“Oh shit.” He cusses, pulling his fingers out of her quickly, making Bridgett whine loudly and desperately. Spencer awkwardly gets out of bed and runs out of the room.

Bridgett rolls onto her stomach, laying flat against her mattress, annoyed that she was denied her orgasm seconds before overcoming her.  A few minutes pass and Spencer comes back in quietly, laying his head against the small of her back, kissing her bare skin.

“I’m mad at you.” She mumbles, her face still buried in the mattress. “I was so close.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was so distracted that I forgot about the cake I was making you in the oven… it’s kinda good I remembered because I didn’t burn it.”

“I would have rather you let me cum.” She mutters, still not looking at Spencer.

Spencer snorts, wrapping his arms around her body, placing kisses on her back. “Can I at least show it to you before you stay mad at me?”

Bridgett turns her head to look at her boyfriend, narrowing her eyes at him before turning back over and getting out of bed, throwing her T-shirt back on and slipping her underwear back on. Spencer looks at her, proud of his work. Bridgett looks at the cake pan that was in the shape of a heart, the closer she looks at the cake she noticed it was a giant cookie.

“Awww you made me a cookie cake?”

“Yeah, I know you’re not a huge fan of birthday cake and you like cookies better so I made this.” Spencer looked like a toddler who was showing off their drawing they made.

Bridgett grabs Spencer’s cheek and kisses him sweetly. “I love you, so, so much. Why are you so perfect?”

Spencer kisses her forehead twice, “I love you too. I still have some stuff to do to finish it, but I need to finish something else first.” He says, pulling her arm to bring her closer.

“And what would that be?”

“I think you know.  Baby time.”

[chucklegigglechortlesnort]

Domestic Headcanons for the Obey Me! Demon Bros

bc these thoughts plague me and i need to get them out somehow-

Mammon sings in the shower

He thinks no one can hear him

however, everyone, in fact, is able to hear him

No one says anything though because his voice is actually amazing???

like duh they were all once angels, of course they’re all amazing singers

You definitely hear every one of them singing or humming a little tune every now and then

Beel has a super deep singing voice

that shit rumbles and it’s honestly hard not to be lulled by his voice

he sings belphie to sleep

they low key (but not really) fight over who gets to sit next to you for movie nights

mammon is always quick to use his “I’m her first man” excuse, but that get’s old really quick

Lucifer and Satan are hella condescending about it and absolutely roast him

“Mammon, I didn’t know MC mattered to you so much”

“N-NO! Why would I care about some dumb human?”

“Well, if you don’t care about MC then you wouldn’t mind if they sit by me tonight?”

“HEY WAIT-”

It’s too late, he’s talked himself into a corner

“Why does it have to be one of you? Let MC pick who they sit next to” - Levi, in a huffy tone

“Levi~ are you sure you not saying that because you want MC to yourself? Can’t say that I blame you, they’re just so nice to hold don’t you think?” - Asmo

Chaos ensues

Eventually Beel just calmly walks over to you, hoists you up from wherever you’re sitting and plops you on top of his lap, Belphie snoozing not too far away

He wakes up only to snuggle into your chest and then he’s out like a light

Beel loves to cook with you, but Satan makes a better cooking partner

Sorry Beel

He just ends up eating too much of the food

Satan is surprisingly lax in the kitchen, as long as you don’t get in his way too much

He’s definitely picky about how certain foods are prepared.

If you’re not chopping something to the right size, he’s quick to reach around you and guide your movements

does this subconsciously and doesn’t seem to understand the romantic implications of it

(he totally does, he just has an excellent poker face from thousands of years of practice)

rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to make sure they don’t get in the way of food prep

the sight itself is something to drool over, let alone the lovely aroma coming from the stove

Lucifer works really late into the night and sometimes forgets to sleep at all

I mean we all know this but more often than not he tries to get at least four hours of sleep a night but sometimes he just... forgets

so the mighty Avatar of Pride isn’t perfect after all hA

ok but bring him tea

He usually prefers to make it himself, but if you bring it to him in the middle of the night his heart melts, just a little

tells you to go tf to sleep but is actually really grateful

but as soon as you shut the door he has the s o f t e s t expression

It’s not often that he’s the one on the receiving end of care so it’s nice, even if your tea is a bit on the watery side

self care nights with Asmo

SELF. CARE. NIGHTS. WITH. ASMO.

Has literally every skincare product known to all three realms

but only the best of the best when it comes to the both of you

there’s a plethora of delicious but health conscious snacks to choose from, and some cheesy drama playing in the back ground that neither of you are paying attention to

Asmo loves giving you makeovers to get a rise out of his brothers

but he also loves the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror when he’s finished

Wants you to love yourself as much as he loves himself you

Levi swims in his fish tank when he’s upset

and just whenever he wants to in general really, but there’s something about being in water that makes him feel calm

...

Wants you to join him but he’s hella nervous about it

When he finally works up the nerve his face is beet red and he nearly runs away before you can answer

>is super confident when he’s in his element

He moves through the water so gracefully it’s hard not to fall into a trance watching him swim

notices you staring and it’s such a boost to his ego omf

definitely makes like he’s about to get out and when you reach out to help him he yanks your dumb ass in with him

your DDD is ruined and Lucifer is mad but in Levi’s mind it was all worth it, even if he got in trouble and is mildly embarrassed about it

Mammon is super receptive to affection when he’s tired

he fell asleep on you once when the both of you were hanging out in your room and woke up to the feeling of you running your hands through his hair

he’s so groggy he can’t find it in himself to muster up the tsundere act

he just nuzzles deeper into your hand

if Belphie finds you napping he is 10/10 times going to join you

You’re not “safe” napping alone anywhere that isn’t your room

he doesn’t want his brother’s disturbing you and he himself doesn’t want to disturb you

so he just cuddles up next to you

at first this was especially shocking, not only to you but to the brothers as well but it soon became such an often occurrence that everyone stopped questioning it

partly because Belphie would never answer any questions, opting to just nonchalantly shuffle away

honestly it happens so often and you’ve grown so used to it that it’s more of a shock when you wake up and he isn’t there

is oddly protective of you

has a sixth sense whenever you’re in danger and will straight up materialize to scare away the threat by looming over them with his intimidating aura

asmo does everyone’s nails

you think lucifer has the time to do his own nails??

or that beel would be able to concentrate long enough to finish his second hand with out wanting a snack??

or that belphie would waste hours he could spend napping waiting for nail polish to dry??

no

asmo takes it upon himself to do their nails for them

the only other person who does it themselves is Levi, who paints his nails while binging long running shonen anime that only requires a part of his attention

they use gel nail polish so it dries quicker and doesn’t chip as easily

you’ve never had a better nail salon experience than at Asmodeous’s at Home Beauty Parlor

He does the hand massage and everything, but only for you

He’s had millennia to practice his craft so if course you’ll be getting the best of the best with asmo

Satan is a closet weeb

now LISTEN- l i s t e n

he probably stumbled across one of levi‘s TSL collection and decided to investigate and was immediately enthralled by the plot and the amazing artwork they held

now he regularly checks out manga from the library and pre pre-orders new upcoming series that catch his eye

his favorited genre is romance, but he also gravitates to magical girl series

make no mistake tho, if you find out somehow, he will have to kill you

please give them affection, none of them are used to it and once you start being casually affectionate with them they’re hooked almost immediately

Obv some are less receptive at first than others - satan, belphie, luci - but that’s okay just give them time

Asmo and Beel are the most comfy with affection and are willing to initiate majority of the time

Asmo always has an arm linked with yours whenever he’s next to you, at the least. He likes to hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder so he can nuzzle into your neck to tickle you

Beel will casually pick you up for hugs, and hold you in his arms to make you safe. he also likes to hold your hand just ‘cause

Levi and Mammon want in on the action once they see beel an asmo being so touchy with you, but are definitely in denial about it for like, a week before they give in and stop being so wussy about it

mammon likes to throw an arm around your shoulders just so others stay away, bc you’re HIS human ofc. also likes it when you play with his hair as previously stated.

Levi is a little more shy about it, but loves it when you link pinkies or choose to sit next to him at the dining table and link ankles with him. He’s also hella smug when you lean on him but is also a blushing mess.

Satan, Luci, and Belphie (for obvious reasons) take the longest to warm up to affection. Satan is the first of the three to warm up to it - he loves reading with you cuddled up beside him. not necessarily on him, but with your sides pressed together as you each read your own book or whatever it is you’re doing while he reads

belphie is next, before lucifer surprisingly. this is kinda when he starts joining you for naps and you’re kinda too scared to question it. also seeks you out to use your thighs as a pillow bc they’re the softest

Luci’s heart kinda melts when he sees you being so close with his brothers. His affection is typically head pats that are more him gently and barely combing his fingers through your hair and tucking it behind your ear

In short i love them all more than words

[specialagentlokitty]

Shaun Murphy x reader - Nervously in love

Hey! I saw you wanted for requests for The Good Doctor, and I thought I would send a request! 😊 Can you please write a fic with Shaun x Female reader, where the reader is a new nurse who’s shy with social anxiety, and she forms a friendship with Shaun, who has autism in canon, and they both eventually fall in love with each other. Thank you! 💕 - Anon❤️

You stood nervously, shifting on your feet as you hid behind Andrews. As he put it, Dr Glassman had is pet project, which was an autistic surgeon called Shaun, and he had his, You, a nurse with social anxiety.

He called you his pet project but you knew he was just doing his best to help you, you’d known him a long time.

“This is Nurse (Y/N) (L/N), she’ll be working closely with your team Melendez, she as social anxiety so best to keep an eye out.”

Andrews turned to you and placed a confronting hand on your shoulder making you jump and tense up slightly, the laxed his grip but didn’t remove his hand.

“If it gets too much come to my office, alright?”

You nodded your head shyly and watched him go, leaving you standing there awkwardly on your own as you avoided the eyes of your supervisor.

“Well, it’s a relatively quiet night, follow me and I’ll introduce you to the others.”

You nodded your head and trailed behind Melendez fiddling with the hem of your uniform as you did, occasionally flicking your eyes to other workers or people who were already being attended to.

First Melendez brought you over to two other surgeons, both not much older than you, on tall Male and another female.

“Claire, Jared, this is (Y/N), she’ll be joint is as a nurse. Andrews has placed her with our team, I’ll be pairing her up with you two. If you ever find Shaun let him know.”

With that Melendez went to leave, but he quickly spun back around.

“Oh, and she has social anxiety.”

With that, he actually left, leaving you even more awkward and nervous. Your heart was pouring in your chest, your hands were clammy and your breathing quickened a little.

“I’ll take her Jared, you find wherever Shaun went.”

“Okay.” Jared turned to you, “it’s Uhm... nice to meet you?”

You simply nodded your head in response and listened to his steps fade away. Claire took you by the hand and pulled you behind a curtain.

“Just breathe, it’s okay.” She said gently.

You focused on your breathing, doing the breathing exercises you were taught, and after a couple of minutes your breathing went back to normal.

You opened your mouth but no words came out, so you looked away defeatedly. Claire gave you a comforting smile and gestured to the ward.

“Shall we?”

You nodded, thankful she understood.

For a few hours you both checked up on patients, ran a few tests and gave a few results, and as the sun started to come up, Jared came back with another man in tow.

This man had his hands clasped in front of him, he wasn’t looking at anyone and when he stood still he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet slight, but as soon his his gaze briefly met yours, you both looked away.

“You’re new.” He said in a flat tone.

You nodded your head and fumbled for you badge, taking it off to hand to him with shaky hands, and ever so gently he took it, read it and gave it back.

“You have social anxiety.” He said again, “does this make you uncomfortable?”

You shrugged a little, trying to calm your beating heart.

“Do you like talking to people?” He asked.

Again you shrugged.

“Can we be friends?”

This time you hesitated but shyly nodded, flicking your gaze around the room until it landed on Andrews who was waiting by the doors with your things.

“Shaun that’s enough.” Jared whispered, “you have to go?” He asked you.

You nodded your head and gave them all a timid wave before rushing over to Andrews, hiding behind him as you left the building.

“How was it?” He asked.

You climbed into his car and let you a deep breath.

“Hard.” You said quietly.

Andrews pat your arm and started the car up.

“You get there.”

You nodded and gazed out the window, eyes drooping as you slipped to sleep.

Even after nearly a year you still struggled with your anxiety, you hated the canteen, and busy wards, you hardly talked to Melendez, Jared and Claire, but you and Shaun had become really close.

“Shaun!” You called softly as you rushed through the halls.

The man in front of you stopped and smiled as you came closer, both of you started to walk side by side.

“Hello (Y/N), are you nervous today?” He asked.

“How’d you know?” You asked quietly.

Shaun stopped and gestured to you fiddling with the hem of you uniform.

“You play the bottom of your shirt, it stops you from scratching your arms.”

You sighed a little and nodded your head, Shaun reached out touched your arm and patted it awkwardly.

“It’s okay, I get nervous sometimes too.”

You smiled a stuffed your hands into your pockets as the pair of you started to walk again.

“I’ve got a patient to check up on, wanna come?” You asked him.

“Yes please!” Shaun beamed.

You and Shaun worked well, you didn’t have to talk while he was in with a patient, he just rambles what you had to do while talking to them. And when you had to check up on someone he talked to them while you did what you had to do.

Melendez saw an improvement in both your work when you were working as a team, so he always paired you up, and Claire and Jared were happy to see you coming out of your shell.

“You should ask Shaun out.” Claire said in the girls changing room.

You spun around wide eyed, face flushed with embarrassment.

“Y.. you.. think he’d say yes...?” You asked nervously.

“I think he likes you the same way you like him.” She smiled.

“Y.. you don’t know that...?”

Claire day next to you on the bench and placed her hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” She laughed.

You puffed your cheeks and shyly nodded, thinking it over. You might do.

As you fished changing, you grabbed your things and headed outside, smiling at Shaun as he waited for you and both of you started to make your way out of the hospital.

“Why do you look embarrassed?” He asked.

Your eyes widened and you heart sped up a little bit. You shyly looked away and started to play with the hem of your shirt as both of you went outside.

Dr Glassman was waiting for Shaun and Andrews was waiting for you, but Shaun didn’t go, he stood in front of you with a curious look.

“Why are you nervous?”

You gulped and took a deep breath.

“W.. would you.. maybe.. like.. to go for dinner sometime..” you asked quietly.

You asked so quietly you though he didn’t hear you, but when you glanced at his face you saw his happy expression and his eyes quickly my yours before looking away.

“Like a date?”

You nodded your head with a small smile.

“Yeah.. like a date..”

Shaun laughed a little and clapped his hands a bit, jumping up and down a few times before he stopped.

“I would like that very much!” He exclaimed.

You beamed brightly and let your fear go when he said that.

“So would I...”

You reached out but stopped, letting your hand fall.

“Can I hug you?”

Shaun brought his hands to his chest and nodded his head once.

“Okay.”

You slowly reached out, wrapping your arms around him in a light embrace, he awkwardly pay your back a few times before you let him go, both of you still smiling.

You heard people coming closer and turned to face the two older doctors.

“What’s going on here then? Why do you both look so happy?” Dr Glassman asked.

Your face flushed and you darted behind Andrews which made Glassman chuckle slightly.

“(Y/N) asked me on a date.” Shaun said proudly.

“Did she now?” Andrews smiled looking you.

You smiled sheepishly and nodded your head a little.

“I see, employees aren’t supposed to be in a relationship.” Andrews said.

Both yours and Shaun’s faces fell and Glassman rolled his eyes.

“Marcus.” He said softly.

“But, that’s only me or Glassman find out.” He winked at you.

You smilied brightly and hugged Andrews before waving bye to Shaun and rushing off, leaving a confused Shaun to ask Glassman what Andrews meant

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

how long does it take for Lorelei and Gray to meet? And how did he react when Ethan told him about the new assistant situation? :)

Grayson’s Phone rang out on the living room table as he helped Lisa move her vanity around upstairs, missing the facetime call Ethan was begging he’d answer. “Shit” was all he said when the called died out. No answer. Ethan placed his phone back into his back pocket-- trying to figure out how exactly he was gonna word this to stop his brother from going off the deep end at him. His phone pinging not too long after, not Grayson, but Lorelei. 

Lorelei Figgs: You never mentioned a time for tomorrow so is it okay if I come over around 9? I can come anytime! Just seemed like a good time.”

Ethan Dolan: fuck sorry, yeah come round at 9. Trying to call Gray now and tell him what’s up.

Lorelei sat in her bed up against her headboard. Her pillows shoved down behind her back, oxygen being blown into her lungs generously as she typed away on her laptop. The one Ethan had given her. Setting up her google docs and organising personal information she sometimes forgot. If Lorelei wasn’t a highly functioning over analyser, she never would’ve seconds guessed Ethans tone. She always did that, tried to read her text as if someone was speaking to her in person. 

Lorelei Figgs: Does he not know? 

Ethan Dolan: Not exactly, but we’re good. Trust the process Lore. ill see you tomorrow.

Ethan had always been a firm believer in manifesting possibilities, goals and overall events you wanted to see play out in life. But unfortunately, he hadn’t even had a chance to think about manifesting the idea Grayson would loose his absolute shit when the time came for the boot to drop. It was time: his phone was ringing. Facetime call from Gray. 

“Yo bro, I was helping ma with her vanity what’s up?” Grayson looked rough. His facial hair had grown rugged. Not kept. The blue flannel was probably a mere three seconds away from falling off his back-- having not changed properly in days. Sure, he showered and changed his underwear-- but that was about the extent of it. His hair was greasy, slicked. Ethan could clearly see the shin. 

“Don’t get pissed.”

“What did you go? Ethan--”

“Nothing! Nothing just-- well, I hired that girl, the friend of Adele’s? She starts tomorrow and--” 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ETHAN!!” Grayson screamed with a groan so guttural it made Ethan kinda flinch. “We’re a fucking TEAM!”

“Well, okay look it was cute and needed when you left but it’s kinda hard to make team decisions when you’re not fucking here bro, ever think of that?” Ethan retaliated with a sigh. “Just meet her bro.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that without me bro, Jesus, that’s it, I’m coming home.” Ethan tried to hide his smile. Deep down he’d missed Grayson although he’d try twist reality to suit the ideology that it was Grayson who missed him. 

“I’ll book you a flight. When for?” 

“We have a fucking assistant for that shit Ethan get what’s her name to do it!! The next one out, text me later I’m gonna pack my fucking bags.” when Grayson hung up Ethan could tell he was in fact-- Pissed. But as his smile grew with the idea of his brother coming home he knew the anger would fade. All he had to do was meet Lorelei. 

Grayson kept his rage built up within him the entire trip home, including in the car ride back from LAX to home. Ethan coped an ear full the entire ride home, good thing he didn’t have to drive-- forever thankful for the technology of autopilot. He swore with the way Grayson was bitching in his ear about being left out of important decisions like hiring a new assistant, Ethan would’ve driven straight into a wall if he had control. 

“Is she at ours?” Grayson hissed. 

“With Mando yeah, she’s working, Mando was going through the DT productions laptop with her, Sharing the docs with her email-- you know shit I should be doing but I had to come pick your bitch ass up.”

“Wouldn’t be back if you hadn’t hired a new assistant without me--” Grayson grumbled. 

“Good well, she’s already doing a great fucking job isn’t she because she got nature-loving tree kissing wild boy back to L.A.” Grayson glared-- furious. 

“She’s fired the moment I walk in the door bro-- you don’t get to make these decisions without me!!” 

“Grayson you cant fire her I fucking hired her yesterday! We need an assistant.”

“Yeah well we’ll figure it out together but this ones on you-- fire her, refire someone else together! Because this is always- always something we do together Ethan, no ifs or buts and the idea you just couldn’t pick up the fucking phone and ask me beforehand is infuriating!!” it was one of the top ten heated arguments Ethan and Grayson had ever had in the Tesla. Not the car-- just the Tesla. Different top tens. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, bro! Fuck! I needed you here but you needed jersey a little more and I didn’t wanna bother you with work. We were on a break, relaxing.”

“Well look what good that did! I’m here! I’m back! I’m the bad guy because I gotta fix your mess--!”

“WHAT MESS!”

“WHATEVER HER NAME IS!” 

Ethan didn’t respond. deciding to give up and give in. his head hurt from the shouting. He had a feeling, deep down, that Grayson would calm down. He always calmed down-- he was angry, hurt even, that Ethan had left him out of such an important decision, but he’d get over it. And he did. Very quickly. The second he saw Lorelei.

Ethan delta quick change in atmospheric pressure as she walked in behind Grayson-- now standing still at the door. Swallowing thick as he stared. He hated that he was this way around girls he thought were pretty. But he couldn’t help it. 

“Lori, Grayson, Gray? This is Lori--”

“Grayson, its actually so good to meet you! I was pretty bumbed out when Ethan said you were still in Jersey when i came over for my interview thingo-- but hey.” She stood, lifting her arm and extending her hand to shake his. Grayson mimicked her actions. 

“Lori, its uh, yeah no its good to meet you too, thanks for uh-- coming on board so quick, we can get a little stressed out when someone isn’t here to deal with, with like meetings and schedules and shit like that.” Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as he watched Grayson stagger over his words. Night and day from the man who sat brooding in his passanger seat. 

“Well like i was saying to Ethan yesterday i might not have too much experience but im pretty stoked with the opportunity.” it washer eyes that had him right from the get go. Eyes that swirled in different shades or brown-- melting together to create a perfect deep brown that made them seem doe like. Beautiful. 

“Experience can only be taught, everyone’s gotta stare somewhere right.” Grayson smiled. Lorelei chuckled. Mando side eyed Ethan and Ethan almost wheezed. 

“Alright alright, Gray go shower and fucking shave, Lor imma show you how to set up in the podcast room works.” 

“Cool, i’m keen, ill move my stuff down there then, brought a note book to write stuff down.” she pressed her lips together nervously Grayson watched as her hand patted the hard cover diary that she held before watching her pick up her coffee cup. Mando had already beaten both Ethan and Grayson to showing Lori how the coffee machine worked. Knowing that when everyone was working? Sometimes no one had a chance to even make it. Grayson stood still and sighed, knowing the roast was coming. 

“Dude--”

“Don’t even start E--”

“I’m sweating, your so awkward bro, what the fuck was that!” Ethan laughed as he covered his mouth. His cheeks red. “Bro--”

“She, her eyes got me shut up, i couldn’t think”

“So she isn’t fired? Just so we’re clear on this decision together? Not fired?” Mando furrowed his brows, wondering what type of question that was as Grayson trudged down the hall with his bag. Groaning: 

“This cannot be happening”