#met her once last week and she tried to set me up with her 19 year old son LMAOOO

[imogenkol]

Not the woman my father just started dating saying I need a mother figure in my life 💀

[zorosjuicymelonsx]

Finding You

A/N: Guys I'm here and I'm so sorry I'm a week late with this. I got a new job after losing mine a few months ago so things have been hectic lately with my schedule. All I can say is sometimes adulting SUCKS but I love money so 😭🤑

A lovely reader on AO3 had helped me realise there was an anomaly with the timeline of how Y/N and Zoro meet and all so I went through it and I thought I would go through this:

Y/N's flashback of Zoro sleeping in the forest in Chapter 3 was when they were 15 so its actually 7 years ago and not 4 years ago. I've edited this and amended the story you tell Zoro slightly in Chapter 5 to correct this so my apologies for not finding this sooner. I wanted to show that she had a crush on him before they officially met after he rescued her in the alley. They then turn 16, graduate school and then Zoro asks her out. They date till 18, get engaged and marry at 19. Zoro disappears a few days after this and you spend the 2, almost 2 and a half years looking for him so he's 21 and your 21.

Its sometime after Wano and Egghead doesn't exist in this "dimension" when you find him in Chapter 1 so they're just cruising right now. I wanted to match the actual One Piece ages he was before and after timeskip.

I hope this has helped clarify if anyone else was confused of the timeline but please do enjoy this chapter. Because of my new job, I'll do my very post to work and post in a timely manner. Thank you for everyones patience and support with me.

Chapter Eight Previous Next “Zoro? You okay?”

“i-I have to go, m’sorry.” 

That was the last thing he said to you a week ago in the Crows Nest. You had gone through every single possible reason for why he suddenly would switch up the way he did which left you nowhere near to a conclusive answer. You were sure you’d done absolutely nothing but at the same time doubted yourself and wondered if you had done something unconsciously. 

Since then, he'd practically been living in the Crows Nest. He never ate in the galley anymore, never came on the deck to hang around with anyone and you weren’t even sure if he was sticking with his once a week baths. Every time you tried to seek him out, you noticed the hint of stress in his face and would walk away in the opposite direction. Thankfully you weren’t the only one who noticed the swordsman's strange behaviour. 

“Marimo is really starting to piss me off, can you believe he’s making me bring his meals to him like I’m some waiter?!” Sanji spat with annoyance as he piled nourishment onto Zoro’s breakfast plate. You knew Zoro wouldn’t have asked Sanji for food, you just understood Sanjis code of ethics when it came to making sure that every member of the crew was properly fed and nourished. You appreciated him for it. 

You were one of the few who remained in the galley after breakfast, sitting with Jinbe and Usopp who were finishing off their own meals. You’d leaned forward to sit your chin on your forearms as you traced the rim of your coffee cup with your finger caught in a net of progressive overthinking of the enigma that was your husband. 

“Has he really not said anything?” Usopp asked Sanji, the cook turning to face them, the plate in his hand piled high in mostly eggs, sausages and toast. 

“Not a word. I swear the algae on his heads really taken over his brain.” Sanji cursed before leaving the galley, chewing on his unlit cigarette. 

“Isn’t this normal for Zoro? I mean he is pretty quiet.” Jinbe asked Usopp. Since Jinbe was the most recent crewmate to join Luffy and the crew before you, it was understandable he would ask. You would have agreed with Jinbe on the fact Zoro was quiet, however, you knew better than to mistake this for just his regular self. 

“When something is bothering him, he shuts down. He avoids everyone, he won’t talk, he’ll just isolate. I just can’t figure out what's bothering him.” You grumbled out before lifting your cup to take a gulp of your coffee. Setting the cup down, you realised you couldn’t hear either of them talking anymore and turned to see them both staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Has he really never done this in front of you guys?” You questioned the gaping pair with a raised brow slightly mocking their owlish stares back. Jinbe shook his head as expected whereas Usopp's gaze drifted off behind you in thought. You assumed he was revisiting his album of memories with the swordsman. 

“Well…there was the time on Thriller Bark when he shut himself away to train but it wasn’t anything like this.” Usopp answered cautiously, his mouth slightly turned down in slight distress.This caught your attention and your heart filled with anxiety. 

“What happened?” You asked, unconsciously frowning. Usopp's gaze refocused back to yours, adjusting himself uncomfortably in his seat as he seemed hesitant to retell the story. Nonetheless, he sighed before clearing his throat to speak. 

“We were on Thriller Bark where we met Brook. Brook was stuck on his old crew's ship and he couldn’t leave because his shadow being taken by the ex-warlord Gecko Moria.”

“Brook has a shadow?” You asked in surprise trying to suppress a laugh. You valued Brook as a crew member despite his panties fetish. Thankfully Nami always stepped in after he asked to put him in his place.

“I don’t even know anymore, ANYWAYS ....we managed to defeat him but another ex-warlord named Kuma came for us.We don’t know what exactly happened because Kuma knocked us out but we know Zoro got really hurt. He was unconscious for a few days after that. I think at the time we underestimated them but knowing him, he blamed himself for not being strong enough.” 

Usopp clarified, his tone laced with guilt. Your heart ached at the idea of Zoro being that severely injured to that extent. You knew he didn’t care as long as he met his goal in the end even if you did reprimand him on his mentality many times over the years you both dated. You had eventually accepted it and you didn’t want to stand in his way.

“Let's just give him space and see what happens.” You spoke assuringly to the two despite your chest hammering with the anxiety of unsurety. 

One Week Later

Two weeks had passed since you last heard Zoro's voice. The patient person you were two weeks ago was buried deep inside and now your patience was wearing thin along with your paranoia running rampant. You couldn’t take the silence anymore and neither could the rest of the crew. 

It was the afternoon and Nami had called everyone in for a crew meeting on deck, including Zoro who had unsuccessfully attempted to blend into the background. Your eyes has locked in on him from the moment you walked in and spotted green. You also saw the obvious attempt he made to avoid looking your way as he chose to focus his gaze on the wall behind Nami. 

‘Just what was so interesting about the wall you fucker?’ You thought to yourself as you leaned back in your chair in observation. 

“Right guys, I called this meeting in because I came across information that there's an island nearby rumoured to have a fuck ton of treasure. We gotta make a game plan.” Nami excitedly spoke, the berries practically beaming out of her eye sockets. Reluctantly, you took your eyes away from Zoro to focus on Nami. 

For about an hour, she went over and planned in detail how to navigate the island, showing you and the others the maps and other sources of information from a book she read detailing the treasure and its history. 

“I also decided that not all of us can go on the island so I’m picking Zoro and Y/N to stay behind on the ship.” Nami added. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Zoro stiffen before clearing his throat to speak up. 

“I’m coming with you guys, have Sanji stay on the ship with Y/N.” Zoro spoke in a low, reserved manner clearly disguising his obvious discomfort towards you. It was the first time you’d heard his voice in two weeks but hearing the words he chose only had you gritting your teeth. You took a deep breath in and decided that at that moment you couldn’t take anymore. 

He had drawn your last straw. 

“Oh Y/N-chan, I’d love to-” You cut off Sanji as you stood up from your seat, the feet of the chair roughly scraping against the floor boards as you paced your steps towards Zoro to now stand strong in front of him. You felt the intense gaze of the others on you but ignored it, the anger you felt overpowered your rationality. 

“Whats your fucking problem?” You spat out as you looked up at him. 

This caught him off surprise. You could see he was trying to shift away from you but you weren’t going to allow him to get out of this. You moved in tandem with him whenever he attempted to get away from you only to have him give up and stay glued to the wall behind him. 

“I ain’t got no problem-”

“Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me for the past two weeks. In fact, you’ve been avoiding ALL of us.” 

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No I’m fucking not.” You somehow got even closer, your chest practically touching his as you felt his body heat against you. 

“She's really not Zoro, did something happen between you two?” Nami asked cautiously behind you.

“Did I do something?” 

He could see you were frustrated with him and he could see he was only hurting you more than he wanted to. 

‘I’m sorry….’ He thought as he looked at you, the guilt overwhelming him. 

Whilst he didn’t appreciate the questioning from you and the heavy gazes of everyone, he will admit he had isolated himself from you. It wasn’t because you did anything to him personally and it wasn’t because he started rejecting your presence on the ship; by far you'd been patient with him by letting him be. The persistent questioning he got from the others, especially the shitty cook despite being appreciative of him bringing his meals to him only to be met with silence from him only fueled his guilt. Since the discovery of his feelings for you, he felt overwhelmed. Being around you distracted him. He felt the want to be with you but at the same time, his mind shielded him from you as if he was protecting himself from you. He prided himself in being strong minded and he felt frustrated with himself over how he could possibly feel this way when he prided himself in being strong minded. He could only theorise that this mental block with you had to do with the guy who’d wiped his memory. 

‘Was his named Edward? Ethan? Whatever, it didn’t matter.’

He knew he was being a dick by staying away from you but he didn’t know what else to do. The moment he accepted his feelings for you, he’d also accepted what felt like an overwhelming burden in his stomach. He felt panic, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He left you in the Crows Nest, remembering the feeling of not being able to breathe. This was why Zoro did not do feelings; they were complicated. 

“You didn’t do anyth-”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” You persistently questioned, the frustration brimming in your eyes. 

“I’m done with this, I’m leaving.” He felt his heart climbing up into his throat with you being so close to him.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting out of this one.” 

You made an impulse decision out of anger. With your free hand, you summoned a hole behind Zoro. You pictured the very island where you spent time training yourself with your devil fruit, knowing it was quiet and you wouldn’t be disturbed. The hole behind him had formed and Zoro had realised too late he was no longer leaning against solid and fell through the smoke of clouds that enveloped him. 

You turned to the others who were gaping at you in shock. Even Luffy stayed glued to his seat with no attempt to jump through the cloud of smoke. 

“I’ll bring him back tomorrow.” You huffed out before going through the hole yourself. 

As you landed in the sand of the island, you looked up to see the hole you summoned. You then looked around to see your surroundings. The island hadn’t changed one bit; the wave of nostalgia hit as you breathed in the smell of the sand and sea, the lingering scent of greenery coming from the forest coming into the mix as well. If you looked around again, you’d be able to find the rock you carved the last date you were here before leaving to continue your search for Zoro. 

You purposefully summoned the hole on the empty side of the island, choosing to leave the small population of habitants to the other side undisturbed. They were peaceful people and had even shared a few meals with you from time to time whenever a few of them found you exhausted from exertion after training. They knew you well and that you didn’t pose a threat, choosing to peacefully coexist with them. 

Once closed, the anger still ever present in your system you looked around to spot Zoro sitting in the sand as he looked around taking his surroundings. 

“Wh-where are-?” 

“You gonna talk or what?” You aggressively asked. 

Zoro was now angry. He didn’t want to fight with you, he just wanted to piece together his feelings and rebuild his courage to be around you. He wasn’t ready to face you and being here with you only made him feel worse.  

He stood up from the sand and stomped over to stand over you, pushing the bile from his thumping heart back down his throat.

“What…the FUCK…were you thinking? Why would you do that? Do you realise without me there, you’ve put the others in danger? Take us back NOW.” 

“First of all, step the fuck back and calm down. Second of all, they’ll be fine. Third of all, were not going anywhere until we sort whatever the fucks gone up your ass and died.” You said as you matched his energy. 

“Fuck this, I’m out.” Zoro refused to admit anything. He couldn’t. He turned away from you and began walking. 

“Roronoa Zoro, come back here now.” You ordered him as you followed behind. 

“No. Piss off.” He called back as he continued stomping. 

“Zoro, stop.” You shouted, your voice almost broke as your anger now turned into hurt. 

“Leave me alone Y/N.” 

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?” You now cried out. You couldn’t stop the tears and the lump in your throat as you stared at his back. 

Zoro stopped at the sound of your voice breaking. He frowned at the thought of you upset, his heart ached but he couldn’t turn around. 

“I’m not doing anything to you Y/N. I just need space.” He spoke regretfully before he continued walking again and turned left heading into the forest. You stood still as you watched him walk away.

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, taking your palm to rub against your forehead in frustration and then using the back of your hand to wipe your tears away. You hated crying, you’d always felt so weak. No matter how much you try to control it, the tears always win. You decided to sit, digging yourself further into the sand before leaning back to let it envelop you. 

You breathed in, allowing yourself to take in the sound of the waves crashing against the damp sand. You didn’t realise how much you missed being back on land. You loved being on the Sunny, you really did but sometimes allowing yourself to be grounded for a bit always helped. 

You let your hands moved with the sand, feeling the softness of it between your fingers. You clenched the sand into your palms finding the action soothing and allowing the anger you’d felt seep into each particle.

What were you going to do with Zoro? 

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

A few hours had passed and you found yourself waking up from a nap you had unconsciously taken. You noticed the sun was beginning to lower, you predicted you had a few hours left before nightfall. You sighed before getting up from the sand, swiping off the residue of sand that was left on your clothes and turned to face the direction Zoro left you from. You were grateful the island was small and you knew it  wouldn’t take you long to track down the lost swordsman. 

As you were about to start walking, you felt a presence lurking near you. You stiffened before smiling and realising there was more than one and posed no danger. 

“How long have you guys been there for?” You called out. You turned to find a small group of what you assumed were hunters gathering food. The group consisted of three men and one woman. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” One of the male hunters asked. 

“I’m fine don’t worry…you didn’t happen to see a green haired guy with three swords roaming around?” You queried. You didn’t know them personally but you assumed the few that did check in on you when you were training spread the word to the others of your existence.

“He’s sitting by the waterfall.” The female hunter softly answered. You nodded as you brought the memorised path to the area up into your mind to plan out your short walk. 

“Thank you, don’t mind us. We’ll be gone tomorrow.” You promised before you began making your way to him. A short walk through the forest and your feet found you at the beginning of a small lake. As you continued, your eyes caught the waterfall and the blue hues of water falling over into the lake. You looked around and soon enough your eyes caught on a head of green hair. You frowned at his slouched demeanor, noticing his eye was lost in the water and in thought. You took a quick breath in before continuing your walk to now stand near the swordsman. You noticed his body stiffened as you felt your presence before slouching back, his eye not breaking out of his lost gaze. 

“Zoro…I.” 

“Don’t speak.” 

Your mouth closed into a straight line, the words ‘I’m sorry’ stuck at the tip of your tongue. You felt like you stood for eternity but just a few short minutes later and you decided to find a seat on the grass near him. Your eyes followed his and soon enough you were also lost in the water with him. Apart from the sounds of the water crashing into the lake and the gentle calls from the birds in the trees, the angst between the both of you laid thick. 

As you watched the water, you were reminded of how much you missed swimming and the ability to just float. You had thankfully never fallen into the ocean since obtaining your devil fruit but the thought of sinking struck fear in you. You missed the feeling of saltwater soaking into your skin, letting your fingertips wrinkle and allowing your mind to wonder and be free. Sure you were able to shower in non-sea water but it just wasn’t the same. 

Time had passed and the sky had turned into a deep hue of orange indicating the end of daylight. The forest had begun to fill out with fireflies, adding to the ambiance and giving light to where you both sat. You knew you’d have to start a fire and look for food soon but you couldn’t find the will to do so yet. 

You had decided to scoot closer to the edge of the lake, allowing yourself to indulge in the only closeness you can have to water. 

“You ain’t plannin to jump in right?” 

Hearing his voice shook you out of thought, you shook your head to answer his question. 

Zoro had every right to be pissed at you but seeing the sadness in your face made him feel guilty for letting himself behave like a teenager for hours. This was his fault after all but admitted he let his pride get the better of him. 

“Why’re you moping?”

“I’m not moping..I’m just remembering how much I enjoyed swimming and just being in the ocean.” You confessed, pouting and allowing yourself to lean on your hand. 

“I thought you didn’t regret-” 

“I don’t regret anything. I’m allowed to feel sad.” You snapped. 

He allowed silence to fill the space between the both of you for a moment before he made an anxiety-consuming decision that would definitely change everything. 

“You wanna go in?” Zoro softly asked. 

You turned to face him, surprise evident in your face. 

“That's impossible, I’ll just feel weak and sink.” You answered. 

“Not if I’m holding you.” Zoro said. 

“I thought you were avoiding me, now you wanna hold me?” You questioned back. 

“Answer my question; you want to go in yes or no?” Zoro bit back with slight annoyance at you being argumentative. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from going into a tangent, turning to look back at the water before nodding. 

From seeing your physical consent, Zoro stood up and began to strip. You visibly blushed and let your gaze turn away from him refusing to turn it into ogling. He brought himself into your line of vision as he walked forward and stepped into the water, waiting with his back turned to you at the edge to allow you privacy. You were able to see he was just left in his boxers. You stared for a bit before finding your brevity and beginning to strip until you were just in your underwear and bra. You walked a few steps forward until you stood just behind him but you hadn’t stepped in the water yet.

“Am I okay to pick you up?” Zoro cautiously asked, his back still facing you.

“y-Yeah you can.” 

Zoro turned around, pushing back his raging heartbeat and ignoring the growing heat in his skin before scooping you into his arms bridal style and slowly walking back into the lake until he was halfway submerged. You relished in the warmth of his skin and you hadn’t realised just how much you missed his presence. 

“If it gets too much for you, tell me and I’ll take you back.” Zoro’s voice almost broke. He was currently fighting back the blush that had threatened to consume his wholebeing as he avoided looking down at your naked body. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen a naked woman before, heck Nami and Robin walked around the ship in practically nothing and it never once bothered him. Seeing you see this way; shy and almost vulnerable gave a completely different meaning to it. He couldn’t fathom anyone else seeing you like this and the mere idea of any man seeing you this way made his skin itch and his temper rise.  

He hadn’t even allowed himself to be consumed in the lust-filled thoughts he had of you since his recent awakening of feelings he had for you. He felt too much respect for you to subject you to his internal needs. He didn’t even know if you both even consummated the marriage before he disappeared but refused to go down the tangent of thoughts surrounding it. 

He slowly began to lower you into the water, allowing the flow of the water to cover your legs and your arms. You gasped at the sudden coolness of the water, immediately feeling the weakness of the ocean consume you. Rather than fighting the weakness, you allowed it to sit as you relished in the feeling of the cool water and Zoro’s body heat. 

“You okay?” 

“Thank you Zoro.” You quietly spoke, grateful to him. 

His concern alone was enough for you to choke on a sob. You were overwhelmed. 

“Why did you avoid me?” You weakly asked, allowing yourself to cry. 

“M’sorry.” Zoro mumbled back as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t want a sorry…I want an answer.” 

Zoro said nothing. He didn’t know how to confess his feelings to you. He couldn’t even begin to explain or know where to start with talking about what was wrong with him. Seeing you broken hurt him badly and he knew he couldn’t let this go on anymore. 

‘Show her.’ 

A small voice in his head spoke. He frowned at the intrusion of the voice. 

‘Show her how you feel.’ 

He looked down to see you looking back up at him. The yearning he felt to hold you closer, the want to be with you overtook him. 

He decided to listen to the foreign voice, putting his anxiety to one side as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

A/N: HE DID IT!!! FINALLY HE KISSED YOU AHHHHHHH 🥳 😭💚

Taglist: @starlightanyaaa @eggrollforyou @rosellerinfrost @qalable

[scribespirare]

Love the way you write flowerfang! Request: Miguel actually meeting Miles' parents! people always avoid it (for valid reasons) but I would love to see that confrontation. Maybe with 18+ year old Miles? So it's more of 'oh no age gap' rather than just 'oh no it's illegal'

Been getting lots of requests for Miguel to meet Miles' parents so I'm filling two at once here!

Also yallre so sweet ily 🥺 the sketchbook idea is one of my absolute favs b/c its just so sweet and fun.

The inevitable happens about a month before Miles turns 19.

“Tu casa es muy bonita,” Miguel says when he shakes the hand of Miles’ mom.

His mom turns that quick, sharp look of hers on Miles, part surprise part exasperation, before turning back to Miguel. “Miles no mencione que hablas español,” she says in that way that’s simultaneously a compliment to Miguel and an accusation to Miles. “Please, come in.”

When Miles was 15 he’d gotten this new sketchbook, right after all the fighting about the multi-verse had died down. He hadn’t bought it with anything in particular in mind, and he hadn’t even known what he wanted to draw the first time he’d cracked it open.

An hour later he’d been staring down at Miguel’s sharp features and was honestly a little confused about it.

The second and third times he’d drawn Miguel  had been even more confusing, and he’d shoved the book into the back of a drawer and tried to forget about it, limiting himself to practicing his graffiti letters on the margins of his notes.

The sketchbook saw light again when Miles and Miguel had gotten together right after Miles had turned 16. Miguel isn’t the only thing or person Miles draws in it, but he’s on basically every single page. Maybe it’s a little weird but hey it ain’t hurting anyone and Miguel is pretty okay? Not like, conventionally so. But the way he moves, the way he carries himself, the sharp, long lines of him in his suit…those things deserve to be committed to paper. That’s all Miles is saying.

Anyways, nobody was ever supposed to actually see this sketchbook. Miles still kept it in the back of a drawer most of the time, and had a primary book that he used more often too. But he’d taken it with him to the dorm and it was still in his bag when he’d visited last week and it had fallen out and open and…

Well, Miles is grateful the more explicit art hadn’t been on display, but Miguel is sill here for dinner. Miles wants to melt through the floor, or perhaps set off another collider just to get out of it. He’d talked to Miguel first of course, and they have their story straight about where they met (Miguel is a graduate student at Miles’ college), when (at the start of the year), and how long they’ve been together (five months).  They definitely didn’t get together when Miles was underage, no ma’am or sir, and Miguel totally isn’t a superhero from another dimension nope.

“Miles does have a tendency to leave things out,” Miguel agrees amiably as he comes inside. “Thanks for having me.” Out of his suit he’s not quite so a striking a figure, but he fills out his button-down and jeans well and practically towers over Rio. Even more surprising is when Miles’ dad, Jefferson, steps up to shake Miguel’s hand as well, and Miles has the realization that  Miguel towers over him too. Miles is the same height as his father now, even if he’ll never have Jefferson’s wider build, but in his mind that’s still his dad. Larger than life and stronger than anything. He doesn’t look fragile next to Miguel exactly but it’s a near thing.

Miles feels an elbow in his side and glances down at his mother, finding it difficult to shift his attention from where Miguel and his dad are exchanging awkward pleasantries. Sizing each other up, Miles thinks. His mother is also watching them but she glances up at Miles from the corner of her eye, smirks, says, “Eres como tu mama.”

She’s already heading for the kitchen by the time Miles catches her implication; that she chose a man three times her size, and now her son is following in her footsteps. He feels himself heat in embarrassment, and when he glances at Miguel he knows the man’s superior hearing picked the comment up too. Jerk.

“Vamos, boys!” Rio calls, successfully breaking Jefferson and Miguel apart. Miles isn’t even sure what they’d been talking about at this point and raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend in silent question. Miguel just shrugs as he falls in just behind Miles’ shoulder, following him into the dining room.

“Te pareces a ella, también,” Miguel murmurs, nearly making Miles trip.

Everyone please stop comparing me to my mother he thinks desperately because there’s no time for him to reprimand Miguel or his mother out loud. At least not without embarrassing himself further.

Rio hands them each a plate as they pass her on their way to the table. And because she will forever be Miles mother through and through, the first thing she says when she sits down is, “So, Miguel, ¿cuántos años tiene?”

Miles nearly does a spit take and his first bite hasn’t even reached his mouth yet.

If Miguel is put off by the question he doesn’t look it. Well, he looks mildly constipated but that’s kind of just his resting bitch face. “I’m thirty-six,” he replies evenly.

“Thirty-six!?” Jefferson repeats, aghast, and looks between Miguel and Miles. “No wonder Miles hasn’t said anything about you. Christ, you’re twice his age.”

Miles cringes, dropping his fork entirely. “Dad, please.”

“You father has a point,” Rio reprimands, but still turns and tells Jefferson, “Relax, baby. I’m sure Miguel is lovely.” Her gaze is sharp and warning when she tacks on, “But we’ll see.”

The table descends into awkward silence. Miles notices that Miguel isn’t eating, just pushing his food around on his plate. He clears his throat after a while and Miles wants to groan. This can’t be good.

“If it helps,” Miguel says haltingly, “I didn’t pursue him.  He’s…persistent.”

His parents give slow, reluctant agreement with this statement and Miles rolls his eyes. He wants to remind Miguel that he’s been more than enthusiastic since they got together, but then decides this is probably not an appropriate place nor audience. Instead Miles just awkwardly tries to get a conversation moving. One that doesn’t involve the elephant in the room, but still draws Miguel out of his shell a little so his parents see exactly how amazing he is.

Unfortunately, Miguel’s resting bitch face really doesn’t give up. Miles knows it’s because he’s nervous as hell, but his parents don’t.

By the time the plates are being cleared, the air is a lot less awkward. at least His parents seem reluctantly impressed by the fact that Miguel’s a geneticist and listen when he explains a few of the tamer experiments Miles knows he has going on. He makes it sound like they’re happening in an lab on campus and not in another universe, and also like he’s a PhD student. As far as cover stories go it’s pretty good.

“So how did you two meet?” Rio asks as she’s stacking everyone’s plates and passing them to Jefferson to take to the kitchen.

Immediately Miles perks up, because they practiced this. “He’s part of the mentor program for the undergrads! He got assigned to a friend of mine.”

At the exact same moment Miles says “Genke,” Miguel says, “Gwen.”

They both pause, Miles swiveling to stare wide-eyed at his boyfriend. “Uh,” he says. When he glances back at Rio her eyes are narrowed suspiciously. Thank fuck Jefferson is already in the kitchen and didn’t hear that. Mom senses are even better than cop senses but at least now it’s two on one instead of an even playing field.

“Gwen!” Miles corrects, smiling like nothing at all is wrong. “I meant to say Gwen! Man, it’s so hard having two friends with Gs names. Gotta give em nicknames or something,” he finishes lamely with a small, awkward laugh.

Rio’s suspicious look hasn’t eased. “No me digas,” she says, in that way that clearly means uh-huh, yeah, sure. Usually Miles hears that right before he’s grounded. But seeing as there’s company and also he’s eighteen, she just shakes her head. “I’m going to help your father clean up in the kitchen. There’s dessert though, so no te escapes, claro?”

“Si, mami,” Miles says obediently. “We’re not going anywhere.”

He sits very, very still until she’s finally out of the room. Then he drops his head head to the table with a long, dramatic groan. A moment later he feels Miguel’s big hand on his nape, squeezing gently in that way that makes Miles boneless.

“It’s not so bad,” his boyfriend murmurs. “I like them. They obviously care for you, and I’d be suspicious too if my kid brought home someone like me.”

Miles rocks his head to the side and glares up at Miguel. “You’re fucking amazing, and I want them to love you like I do.” He pauses, considers the words that just left his mouth, then adds, “Well, not exactly like I do, but still.”

The corner of Miguel’s mouth tilts up in a small smile, and it’s the most relaxed he’s looked all night. Miles desperately wants his parents to see this softer, caring side of Miguel.  “They’re certainly closer to my age than you are.”

Miles sits up so quickly it dislodges Miguel’s hand from his nape, and he narrows his eyes playfully. “Hey! My parents are off limits, old man.”

Miguel just smirks, the asshole, and then Rio and Jefferson are back so Miles can’t even say anything else without thoroughly embarrassing every single person at the table. He almost considers doing anyways it just to spite Miguel.

[samantha4you2]

How it started- My timeline

I have looked at recent posts asking when you knew you were a sissy, sucked your first cock and got your pussy filled, this got me thinking, looking back I always knew.

I wish I knew then what I know now, I think looking back I should have become a girl but did not, my advice to younger adults is wait but when you know you know, be true to yourself.

I have been through the purging and starting over again, tried living with real girls but was never any good at pleasing them. I always was thinking I wish it was me being fucked, I always wished it was me dressed in pretty dresses, sexy lingerie. I now know that I always want to be the girl, looking at porn or seeing a girl in the street, it's the same, I wish I was her.

Thought I would share my timeline from wonder to absolute 100% submissive sissy slut.

Early years - Playing with barbie dolls, being jealous at not being able to dress in pretty clothes.

11-12 trying on knickers and tights, acquiring bra and knickers

12-13 trying on first dress, first leggings, getting my own tights. First crush on a boy, getting excited at looking at the other boys in changing rooms.

14 sucked first cock, became regular with an older boy at school.

15-16 lost my cherry, bliss to feel him use me. Got my own matching bra, knickers, suspender belt and stockings

16-17 discovered public toilets and the lush young and old men who  meet there (love the older men, I  have daddy issues). My first dildo, oh that got plenty of use

18 (maybe earlier hee hee) my first daddy (40 years older than me) got my first spanking. Went to college, lived in my own space, OMG my first make up, high heels, maids dress. Lotts of men, a lot, at least once a day I was in public toilets looking for cock.

19 first proper date, in boy clothes but very sexy girly underwear, he was about 25 very sweet, and yes I did let him fuck me, nice thick dick and I swallowed. Daddy introduced me to submission, he was a wiz with a riding crop, he made me seek out cock but I had to tell him everything, he set me targets for the week.

20 Daddy introduced me to  BDSM, he made me cry a lot, started to spend the weekends with him (loved that fully dressed all the time, in what he told me to ware), Daddy was buying clothes for me, he had little parties with some friends, I did the drinks and food, gave the odd blow job of course.

21 first spit roast, 2 of daddy's friends while he watched, he laughed when I cried because  one of them got over excited and twisted my tiny cock hard and punched me.

22 I would say I became an accomplished sissy but had a major guilt trip and purged , well almost, used to meet with daddy every now and then.

23 met a real girl, lasted 18 months but did manage to fuck her, only the once, tried lots of times but only managed to stay hard long enough that one time, she left me.

24-25 met another girl, could never manage to fuck her properly, I think she knew that I was not a real man, she spread her legs a lot and told me about it, I would ask what the men were like, build age cock size, that got my cock hard but as soon as I tried to fuck her it went limp. I got good at licking out her pussy though. She left after 6 months.

Since the age of 25 I have been a man only submissive sissy bitch. I am easy and drop my knickers for anyone, older the better but any man can use my holes anytime any place.

I was never a boy, never a man, just pretended to be.

[pandoraslove]

Secret

Simon “ghost” Riley x reader

warnings: typical cod shit, angst & fluff, reader is a single mom but it doesn’t go into to too much detail. This is my first Ghost one shot.

I always wondered what it was I did in a past life to make me deserve this one. Despite my strength there were moments I felt so weak that it surprised me to even be able to walk back to the facility. It’s been 2 months. I left 2 months ago on a solo mission to get intel on a human trafficker in Chicago. He was a disgusting and vile man that deserved worse than hell. The mission was originally set to last 3 months, I was a month early- I think. This mission didn’t go as smoothly as it was supposed to. Someone gave my true identity away. They knew every. Single. Detail about me. Where I was born, my family, everything.

I walked into the facility and I could feel stares on me. Laswell was walking with Price when I walked in but they stopped when they saw me.

“Blaze?” Price calls out. I finally let myself deflate when I hear my name. I give him a cheeky smile.

“Miss me?” I mutter, I felt my knees buckle and my body beginning to fall.

“Woah there kid, Where’ve you been?” His voice alone told me who it was. There was no need to look up and inspect his face, not that I could since there was a 100% chance his mask was on.

“On my mission, where else.” My voice was raspy and it slightly hurt to talk.

“It’s been 4 months.” Laswell says.

“What?- no. how?” I could’ve sworn it’s only been two months. The calendar in the room they held me in- I was counting the days- they-.

“We need to get you to a medic.” Price says. Everything was going dark. My hearing was going in and out. The last thing that was going through my mind was the face of my daughter. The last time I saw her was 4 months ago. How…

I was young when I got pregnant with my daughter. I had barely turned 19, she was born 4 months after my birthday. I was enlisted already and on active-duty, Laswell was the only person I trusted at the time.When I went home I was kicked out and left for dead with a newborn baby. I was able to rent a shitty little apartment for a couple weeks before being kicked out once again. During that time I met a wonderful older woman and she helped me with Morgan. Laswell gave me the keys to a safe house and allowed me to stay there. I went back to the force when Morgan turned 6 months. I trained harder than ever, I got stronger and faster, so I could come back to her after every mission. Everything I do is for her. Laswell is the only one who knows.

The room was bright, my body ached since every bit of adrenaline left my body. Laswell, Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost were all in the room. I cleared my throat slightly and tried to sit up despite the aches in my body.

“How are you feeling?” Laswell asks.

“Perfect.” I mumble.

“We thought you were dead.” Soap says. Despite him always being the first joke around at this moment his tone was nothing but serious.

“I’m fine.” I reassure them. Ghost was the closest to me scanning my body. “I’m fine,” I repeat quietly leaning back on the bed. I saw Kate leaving the room from the corner of my eye and called out to her.

“Laswell,” She turned to look at me and nodded, she knew what I was going to ask.

“Rest and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” I give her a small smile and relax. Price, Gaz, and Soap left shortly after her. Ghost was the only one left in the room with me.

“I’m fine, Simon” I turned my head to watch him, his forearms rested on his knees & he stared at me intensely. Part of me wanted to shrink under his stare but I refrained.

“You were gone for four months” he remarks.

“you were worried���” I say a little sarcastically.

“No shit.” He grumbles.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, staring back at him. It isn’t a secret that Simon is a very reserved & secretive man meaning our relationship was also secret & very very new. When I left for my mission we had barely started ‘dating’ for 3 months. It honestly felt like it had been 3 years. I was supposed to tell him about Morgan before leaving for my mission but he had a mission to go on himself.

He hums. His hand grabbing mine, tracing his thumb along my palm. “What happened?” he asks softly.

“Someone blew my cover. They held me hostage in a room with no windows. There was a calendar- it was a trick.”

“Did they touch you ?” he asks, anger hidden beneath his soft soothing tone.

“Nothing too bad, knives & punches is all,” I explained before sighing, “Simon…”

“Yes, love?”

“I haven’t been completely honest with you & if you want to leave… I completely understand, I mean part of me knows that I should have told you sooner but-“

“y/n. what is it?” he asks, confused by my rambling.

“I have a daughter.” I say quietly, the tears brimming my eyes now falling down my face, my fear of losing the first man who’s actually made me feel loved taking over.

“How old is she?”

“five…” I couldn’t stop my tears, so I stared at my hands.

“Can I meet her?” I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes softened under his mask when he noticed my tears. “Did you think I would be mad? that I would leave you?” A sob racked my body, Simon stood up & wrapped his arms around my body.

“I just want her to be safe and I was scared of losing you.”

“You aren’t losing me anytime soon, You & me are taking some time off.” He says, his rough voice determined.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” I mutter into his chest.

“I want to. Gives me time to spend with my girls.” He mutters into my hair. my chest swells with happiness, the words coming out of his mouth felt unreal. I look up at him & stare into his eyes, the eyes that I've grown to love & constantly think about.

“Okay.“ I say bring my hand up to his neck to lift his mask up. I bring his face down to mine & kiss him. they were soft, the type of softness that made me feel like I was floating.

[yutahoes]

Sir

main characters: CEO! sugar daddy! Yuta Nakamoto, university student! sugar baby! Y/N  word count: 1.5k words  genre: smut summary: Who could ever resist Yuta Nakamoto, or your sugar daddy as what you call him? warnings: sugar baby, sugar daddy, smut themes, hickey, kissing, groping, semi-public setting, slight exhibitionism, unprotected sex, edging inspired by a scene in the manga and J-dorama ‘Coffee and Vanilla’

CZENNIES’ ANIME BOY BIRTHDAY PROJECT - DAY 19

You try to run to the hallways of your university, hoping that you'll eventually get to class on time while cursing under your breath. Why did you stay the night at his place? You should have gone back to the dorm after he came on you once. 

Your roommate was waving her hand when you reached the lecture room, calling for you to sit beside her. "Why didn't you come back last night?" She asked as you tried to catch your breath. "Oh my God! Is that a hickey?" 

You reached for the mirror inside your bag, checking the spot she's pointing at before gasping. It really is. That damn motherfucker! "So you really are a sugar baby?" 

It's not like you wanted to but you needed the money for tuition and college expenses so you signed up on that website and caught the attention of some CEO. Yuta Nakamoto. He said his company deals with electronics and he just wanted a sugar baby because he's a lonely man. 

It felt weird at first that you were so scared to meet him. But when the young man, a little younger than you, introduced himself as Yuta, you're sold. You wanted to be this guy's sugar baby. 

"You really have sex with him?" 

You nodded. "You have no idea how hot he is." It wasn't your plan to give him your body but he's such an attractive man that you caved in. "He's practically a Sex God." 

The murmurs got louder across the room, female squeals getting your attention. Do you have a new professor for the business class today or is there a guest like last week? To your surprise, it was a younger guy. A guy you knew even if the lights are off. Yuta Nakamoto. 

The professor started asking the class to calm down but there were still talking from some girls. His gaze glanced around the room but when your eyes met, he smirked. “I would like to introduce Mr. Yuta Nakamoto who owns one of the largest businesses in the country.” You gasped. You only knew that he owned an electronic company. What’s with the largest businesses? “He volunteered to give a talk to this class on how to start a successful business.” What the hell?

Yuta smiled at the class before bowing down. “I’m Yuta Nakamoto. It’s my first time talking to a class like this so please be gentle with me.” Again, you gasp. That was his usual words in the bedroom, ‘I’ll be gentle on you’. “Do you have any questions?”     

“Do you have a girlfriend?” one girl from the back row asked. The professor even scolded her saying that it wasn’t appropriate for the class but Yuta smiled before nodding, earning exclaims from the class. “Of course he has a girlfriend.” another girl exclaimed. 

His gaze fell on you and you gulped. “She’s really adorable. If I can, I want to hug her now.” 

“Wow, he’s so cool!” Your friend exclaimed, making you look at her and smiling timidly. 

You can’t leave class. That will be weird. But you can’t stay in this class and watch Yuta in his suit and tie. It was a deadly combination, something that wouldn’t be able to make you sleep peacefully at night. He talked to the class about the pros and cons of making a small business, about the risks it will take. But you were focused on how he moved around the room. 

His strong thighs that you love to grind at. His strong arms under the long-sleeved suit that holds you each time he thrusts in you. His long, slender fingers that always ignite the fire inside you. His soft lips that taste like cherry and Yuta. And his voice resonating in your ear and sending a tingling feeling on your core. You breathed hard, crossing your legs.

This is bad. You can’t be this turned on in class.  

He finished the lecture, the professor giving him gratitude as the class gave him a standing ovation. It’s almost lunchtime. Maybe you can still have some time to relieve yourself inside the bathroom. “Let’s go to the cafeteria?” Your friend asked. 

“I’ll follow you. I’ll just head to the bathroom.” She nodded before you took your bag and left hurriedly before your classmates could get out of the room. 

Once again, you were running in the hallway in a hurry to get to the bathroom when you felt someone hold your arm and dragged you to the door of the stairwell heading to the fire exit. You almost squealed, especially when your back was pushed to the wall, arms raised up. “Did I scare you, baby?” There’s only one person who calls you baby. “You left so early in the morning, I missed you.” 

Your eyes widened at that. Yuta isn’t usually clingy, what’s wrong with him? But before you could mutter a word, he was already kissing you. His lips sucking your bottom lip, his hands holding your waist. Tongue slipped inside your mouth. His hand slipped inside your pants that made you gasp while lightly pushing him. "Yuta, we can't." You glanced around, checking for people but you knew it's a failed attempt. You're secluded. "We're in school." 

"Yuta?" he asked, smirking. He stepped closer, not removing his hand inside your pants, the other anchoring himself from the wall. His fingers slipped past your underwear, his breath hovering above your own red lips. "Why are you so wet? Thinking of dirty thoughts?" 

A moan escaped your lips when his index finger entered your core, followed by his middle finger. You grasped on the shoulder of his suit, biting your lip to prevent a sound from escaping your lips. "Dirty thoughts in class, Y/N? How shameless." His thumb circled your clit while his other hand grabbed your clothed boob. "What were you thinking that you're dripping like this, Y/N?" 

He pumped his fingers inside you, smirking at your whimpering state. "You." Yuta raised an eyebrow. "It's so hot…" you exclaimed, crossing your legs together. "You are hot. I want to suck you in front of the class." His hand went inside your blouse, raising your bra to pinch your hardening nipples. "I want you to fuck me wearing this."

He chuckled then kissed her hard on the mouth. "Such a spoiled brat."

"Yuta, please."

"Yuta?" He removed his fingers inside you then slapped your dripping pussy. "I think you're forgetting something."

"Daddy?" You whispered before he slapped you again. A jolt of pleasure running through your body. "Sir!" He chuckled before reminding you of your magic words. "Fuck me, please." 

"Here? Such a naughty student. Maybe you deserve to get punished."

The anticipation is building inside you. He turned you around, raising both arms to the wall. Yuta pulled down your pants then your wet underwear that you're exposed to him. If someone were to use the emergency stairs, they'll see you being a slut for him. You can hear the rustling of metal before it falls down on the ground. His hands grope your breasts, heading south to bend you forward. 

"Please, sir." you begged, feeling his hard cock rubbing on your ass cheeks. Yuta parted your legs, one hand on your shoulder while the other on your waist as he eased himself inside you. A scream almost left your lips at the way he's filling you up but he put a hand on your mouth. 

He kept his pace, fucking you from behind. His breathing was so close to your ear that you could feel his warm breath and hear his soft groans. "You're so hot. So tight for me baby." He whispered against your ear. "So perfect for me." You are. You do feel that you're made for him, your pussy molding perfectly fit for his cock. "You're mine, Y/N. Only mine." 

His possessiveness made you shiver. Is it a kink of yours? You wanted to be owned? You can feel the pit of your stomach churning, warmth blazing through your body. "Yuta, I'm close…" you whimpered before your eyes widened when he removed his cock inside you. "What?" 

Annoyed, you turned to him but he only kissed you while laughing. "You have to attend class." What? He put on his pants before helping you with yours. "Eat your lunch." 

"Can't I skip my class?" He shook his head while fixing your blouse. 

He started fixing his jacket. "Just two classes, baby. I'll give you a reward after." Your eyes lit up at that. He smoothened his tie before smirking, "Necktie wrapped around your pretty wrists." You stared straight at him, the feeling of annoyance earlier was gone. Replaced by excitement and a certain want for him. "Now, be a good girl and attend your class."

"Yes daddy." you grinned. 

He let you go out the door first, stopping on your tracks when you saw your friend looking at you. "You look like you just had sex…" she stopped when Yuta went out of the door. "Oh my God!" She shouted, then covered her mouth in shock, "You and...?" 

You hushed her up before you felt an arm hold you in a hug. Yuta tucked a hair behind your ear, smiling. "I'll see you later." He didn't hesitate to kiss you in front of your friend who squealed when the older guy walked the hallways of your university. 

"Oh my God!" she kept on hitting your arm, "Sign me on that site." 

[angryschnauzer]

Mad Enough To Kiss Me

Summary; Sy reminscises he and his wife's summer party whilst he's meant to be working.

Pairing; Captain Syverson x Wife 'Jess'

Fandom; Sandcastle (Movie), Henry Cavill - Actor.

Warnings; NSFW, oral sex (female recieving), unprotected Vaginal Sex, exhibition kink, pregnancy.

Word count: 1246

This is a sequel to 'The Bite of the Bear' which is Walter Marshall x Reader.

I do not run a masterlist or tag list, however if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you'll then get an alert every time i post new work.

Fic entirely written and posted on mobile, so any typos are allowed to run wild and free.

Mad Enough To Kiss Me.

Sy sat at his desk, frowning at his laptop as he tried to concentrate on his taxes but the scene outside would draw his attention from the screen every few minutes. Sitting back in his chair he let out a sigh and crossed his hands behind his head. 

The lake sparkled in the low Autumn light, the maples and cedars that surrounded it a sea of rich colours. But no matter how beautiful the treeline was, his eyes were always drawn to the floating dock in the lake, and a smile would tug at the corners of his lips. It had been late summer, a little over two months ago, when he and his wife Jess had their annual party. Friends and family from far and wide always made the effort to come, but what was making the smile on Sy's lips grow wider was the memory of Jess that night.

Jess was a firecracker, she'd called him out on his shit the very first time they'd met, and he'd fallen instantly in love that very moment. Over the days and weeks that followed he'd gone out of his way to get her to yell at him and get her really riled up. When eventually he'd asked her if she was mad enough to kiss him yet she'd screamed at him before launching herself at him and knocking him to the ground straddling his waist, and they'd practically torn each others clothing off there and then.

What followed was a few years of Sy working out the last of his enlistment, always ensuring he came back to their shared home on the lake, and throwing a party to celebrate the anniversary of the 'are you mad enough' day. Looking back to the floating doc Sy thought to the way he'd set up the fireworks on that night so that the 20 minute display only needed one fuse to be lit at the very start, meaning they had 19 minutes to indulge in little exhibitionism kink they'd discovered they both enjoyed. Laying his beautiful wife out on the spread of cushions and blankets he'd scoured from the house, he'd stripped the pair of them naked before burying his face between her thighs. He would get cunt drunk on her peach, and his only regret that he had to limit himself to just ten minutes of making her come on his tongue, but he needed to leave time to fuck her too. Having made her come at least three times with his mouth he'd crawled up her body and slid home deep into her waiting pussy, groaning as her tight walls gripped his considerable girth. Flipping them over he relished the sight of her riding him, spearing deep into her soft body as they were illuminated by the fireworks overhead. They were some of the best 9 minutes of his life, and some that they repeated for an encore on the patio table once all their party guests had left for the evening.

Back in the present Sy looked down, realising he was sporting a semi and with a growl he palmed himself just the once before clearing his throat and sitting straight, returning to his taxes on screen. Taking a gulp from his mug he was greeted with a mouthful of cold coffee, grimacing at first but then licking his lips, enjoying the maple cinnamon creamer Jess had added. Taking a few more smaller sips he smiled at the taste, somehow it reminded him of her essence. Perhaps it was that every single thing in the house was currently some version of a seasonal spice scent, or just that he was so in tune with the taste of her, that when he'd woken her up with his head between her legs that morning she'd tasted different. Her peach had a mellow tartness to it, and he couldn't get enough of it, making her come three times before she'd finally pushed his head away with a laugh;

"Sy! I got shit to do today, just fuck me already!"

He'd done as she'd asked, and an hour later when he'd watched from his office window as she'd walked down the driveway to her car to go run errands, she'd waddled a little and it had given him a virile sense of pride that he'd fucked her so good even after all this time that she still couldn't walk straight.

With a laugh and sigh he set the mug down and swore he'd concentrate on his taxes, and an hour later when he heard the front door shut he'd finally made good headway into his admin.

"Hey Cupcake!" Sy called out to Jess.

"I'll be up in a second!"

He concentrated on saving his work, smiling when he heard her footsteps on the wooden stairs, before her head appeared over the wooden railing. He watched as she approached, appreciating the way her body moved, especially noticing how her dress made her titties look fantastic, she must be wearing a new bra or something because he could have sworn they were bigger. 

Walking up to him she pressed a kiss to his lips before sliding a box onto the desk.

"Hey thanks, new boots" Sy smiled, before moving to pull her into his lap, surprised when she dodged out of his way.

"Don't you want to check out the boots? I heard they changed the design slightly"

With a sigh Sy laughed;

"Sure thing Cupcake"

Lifting the box he frowned, it was surprisingly light considering the boots he favoured usually weighed a couple of pounds. Setting the box on his lap he shot a glance quickly to Jess and saw she was grinning but trying to hide it by chewing on her lip. What was she up to? She wasn't one for pranks.

Carefully opening the lid when he saw what was inside his throat went tight;

"Are you sure?"

Jess nodded, her eyes now watering with tears threatening to spill, waiting for him to finally say it.

"Cupcake…" Sy choked out, lifting the tiny pair of hand knitted wool booties, the white plastic stick of a pregnancy test sticking out of one showing a clear pink mark for a positive result.

Feeling tears start to well in his eyes he rubbed at them with his fingers and thumb, setting the box aside as he took Jess's hand and pulled her onto his lap. Pressing a kiss to her lips he grinned and let the tears start to spill, resting his massive hand on her stomach;

"We're gonna have a baby" he stated, Jess nodding and cradling his face in her hands

"We sure are Sy"

"How far along?"

"About ten weeks"

"Ten weeks…" the cogs and gears in his mind started to turn, and as he did he twisted his chair until they could both see out to the lake; "Ten weeks ago i was filling that peach of yours out on that dock, in plain view of all our friends"

Jess giggled;

"I know Sy… so, have i made you mad enough to kiss me?"

With a sigh and a smile Sy pulled his wife close to him and pressed a kiss to her lips, before lifting the booties and setting them gently onto her stomach. Resting her head on his shoulder Jess wrapped her hand over his, safe in the knowledge that the kid growing inside her would have the best father possible.

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[bopbopstyles]

CROWDED PLACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, cursing, some handcuffs)

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

CATEGORIES: roommate!harry, bi!y/n

MASTERLIST |  TALK TO ME | REST OF THE BIFICATHON

a/n: here is my entry for @harrysclementines​​ and i’s bificathon (view them all here)!!!!!! i had prompts 18 and 19 (”Y/N brings home girls and guys (roommate!harry)” and “Harry asks her about the differences in sex between guys and girls”) and here’s what happened. as a bi person i had SUCH a fun time writing this, and i hope you enjoy. named for the BANKS song of the same name. xoxo, love u all my bi angels!

“Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and you stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

“H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

or

Y/N is bi, Harry’s her roommate and curious

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry found out you were bi by walking into your shared kitchen and finding a girl struggling to figure out your shared intricate coffee maker dressed in your clothes, her hair tangled around her shoulders.

“Need help?” He asked, walking toward the stranger in his kitchen.

The girl’s head bounced up at the sound of his voice and sighed. “Fuck, you scared me. Uh, yeah, thanks. I was trying to make coffee for Y/N but…”

He chuckled to himself and nodded for the girl to move to the side. “Nice of you.”

“I’m Emily, by the way,” the girl told him. “You’re Harry, right? Y/N mentioned she had a roommate last night.”

Harry flicked some buttons on the machine, fiddled with the coffee filter, and then the machine whirred to life. “Yeah, I’m Harry. Y/N mentioned she was going to some club last night—that where you two met?”

The girl nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah.”

Harry paused, not really knowing what else to say over the sound of the coffee dropping into the cup situated below the spout. He had come in for some breakfast and coffee, but he didn’t really want to make small talk with your hookup of the week, if he was being honest. So he decided to table coffee, and instead grabbed a box of cereal from the cabinet and the milk from the fridge and made himself some cereal.

“Nice meeting you,” he said to the girl before turning around and heading back to his room.

“Bye,” Emily replied and with that he left the kitchen, beelining for the safety of his own space.

Settling down into his bed, he thought about the girl in his kitchen and you, obviously still tucked into your bed. You two had never really had the conversation about your sexualities—you’d become roommates last year through an advertisement you placed on Craigslist and had spent most of the year just figuring one another out and becoming friends. The topic had never really come up and he had just assumed—wrongly, apparently—that you were straight, since he only really saw you with guys. Although, to be fair, there were nights that you didn’t come home and he didn’t know where you ended up on those nights.

He didn’t care in the slightest, just intrigued by this new piece of information he had discovered. He was curious, if he was being honest, but he didn’t really know if it was his place to ask you about it. Was that rude? He didn’t really know. He’d never just…found out about his friends’ sexuality like this, usually they told him outright at some point, so he was in uncharted territory.

Perhaps he’d just let you bring it up. Or he’d mention that he had met Emily in the kitchen, and see where the conversation went. He settled on the latter, deciding that would open the discussion up but not be too aggressive. More than anything, he wanted you to feel comfortable talking to him about these kinds of things, and also know that he didn’t mind who you brought home or dated.

So, he settled into his pillows and turned on Netflix, starting up a crime documentary he hadn’t seen yet, and ate his cereal.

When he resurfaced two hours later, you were in the kitchen with a skillet of eggs cooking, scrolling through something on your phone and sipping on a cup of coffee. You greeted him with a quiet “good morning” and he responded with the same, before going to the sink to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher next to him. Then he grabbed himself a cup of coffee, adding a dash of milk, and settled in at the breakfast bar.

“So,” he said, making you turn and look at him. “I met Emily this morning.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but then you nodded. “She told me. Said you helped her with the coffee maker.”

“I did.” He took a sip of his coffee and paused, unsure of what to say next. “She seemed nice.”

You stood up and fully turned so you were facing him, your phone forgotten on the counter. “Yeah, she is.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

You seemed a bit shocked by the question, but shook your head. “I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

There was the confirmation he’d been seeking—that Emily had in fact been a hook up. “So all the people you’ve brought back…?”

“Are just some fun,” you finished. “Where’s this all coming from? We don’t usually talk about this stuff.”

“I was just trying to figure out if I needed to prepare to have another roommate,” he quipped, and you snorted before turning back around to where your eggs were sizzling in the pan.

“What about you?” You asked him, using the spatula next to the stove to lift the eggs out of the pan and placed them on a light blue glazed plate, one of the ones you’d bought when you moved in and adored. Harry was banned from using them, relegated to the white porcelain ones he’d purchased.

“Sorry?”

You grabbed the salt and pepper and sprinkled a bit on your eggs, then grabbed your slices of toast from the toaster where they were waiting. “Are you looking to date right now?”

He hadn’t been expecting you to throw the question back at him, but he figured you had every right to. He’d asked you, why not share himself? “I mean, if I met the right person I would be. But I’m not like, actively seeking a relationship.”

With a set of silverware in one hand and your plate in the other, you walked towards him, setting your food on the counter on the other side of the bar so you could face him as you ate. For some reason, you loved to eat standing up  and it had never made sense to him. “So you’re not on dating apps and all that? Hinge and that shit?”

He shook his head as you swiveled to grab the jam from the fridge and began to spread it on your toast. “I can never figure out how to talk to people on them. They’re just so awkward.”

You nodded in agreement before taking a bite of your toast. “Meeting people in person is way better. I tried one once and it was so unpleasant. Felt like so much work, you know? Like finding someone shouldn’t feel like a part-time job.”

He chuckled to himself at your observation. “Right? I’d rather just meet someone through friends or something and talk to them, be able to figure out in person if there’s something there.”

“One time I’d been talking to this girl on Bumble for two weeks, we met up, and I immediately was like, ‘fuck I have no sexual interest in her.’ You know? Like there was no chemistry. We would’ve been great friends, but the other stuff? Nada.” You always talked with your hands and even did in this moment, you slice of toast in one hand and a fork in the other.

“What’d you tell her?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee as you took a bite of egg.

“The truth,” you said, covering your mouth as you spoke and chewed at the same time. He loved how comfortable you two had become with each other, the natural result of sharing an 800-square foot apartment with another person. “And then she texted me like a month later saying she thought ‘We had really good energy’ and wanted to see if I was interested. So I had to tell her again that I wasn’t interested.”

“Shit,” he said. “That’s brutal.”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the p of the word as you took another bite of your breakfast. “So, what are you up to today?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

“I was planning to go to IKEA to look at a new bed frame and look at all the room set-ups—want to come with?”

It was one of your favorite shared activities, which you had discovered when he had moved in and needed to buy a whole host of new furniture. You’d tagged along since you knew the apartment better, and you’d ended up spending practically the whole day inside. Since then, it was your rainy day activity.

“What’s wrong with your current bed frame?”

You shrugged, picking up your toast and taking a final bite. “It creaks too much. I think it’s just old, so I want something different.”

Harry tried not to think about why your bed creaked so much, and instead told you he’d come with.

Harry was pushing you around IKEA and frankly you were having the time of your life. Just to piss him off you’d gotten into the cart, folding up your body and leaning against the front of the cart, and he’d just rolled his eyes at you and called you a child before rolling the cart towards the entrance to the store.

You had made it through the bathroom section without much incident, but when you had reached the living rooms you had decided that you simply had to try out all of the couches, even though neither of you needed to buy one. Together you developed a rating scale—firmness of cushions, bounce level, and ability to lay down comfortably. A couple ranked high on all three scales, but none just blew you away, so you jointly decided you definitely didn’t need to invest in another couch for no reason.

In the kitchen department, you both oohed and ahhed over countertops and backsplashes, pointing out appliances you desperately wanted. You tried to convince Harry that you really needed new bar stools, but he wasn’t swayed. However, he did relent and allow you to buy some new spatulas and other kitchen utensils after you told him they were replacements for the current ones, which were two years old at least.

Finally, you reached the beds. Bed after bed laid out in front of you, just waiting for you to try them out and see which one was both sturdy and sleek. You beelined for the first one, sitting down on the mattress and looking up at Harry, who was leaning on his elbows on the handlebar of the cart and watching you.

“Come test it out with me,” you said, patting the bed next to you. “I need to see how the weight of two people feels on it.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but he left the cart and moved towards you. He was dressed in one of his favorite sweatshirt, a black one he’d gotten in Tokyo at a DJ Harvey and Keb Darge party, and a pair of blue jeans with a frayed hem, and white Vans with the pink and blue laces you’d given him for his birthday threaded through each one of the shoes, a beanie covering his curls and his black sunglasses tucked into the neck of the sweatshirt. You adored Harry’s clothes, frequently stealing them which he found aggravating and you loved doing for that very reason.

He settled on to the bed next to you, his knee knocking against yours as he settled back on his hands. “So? Thoughts?”

His eyes flickered over to you. “Seems sturdy enough, but I hate the headboard.”

You turned to look at the headboard, which was just one long piece of skinny blond wood. Upon investigation, you also hated it. “Agreed. Next one!” You scampered over to the next one, which had a wrought iron headboard in black and you quite liked the look of it. The rest of your furniture was black and your duvet was a light blue, so it would fit in perfectly. “What do you think of this one?”

Harry moved to sit next to you and shrugged. “Seems good.”

“The headboard up to par for you?”

“I like it. You?”

You nodded and then looked at him, deadpanning, “You could hook handcuffs through it.”

Harry choked on air, before bursting into laughter at your comment. “Is that a priority for you? The ability to handcuff someone to your headboard?”

“Honestly, yeah. Otherwise what good is it?”

He bit back a smile, and then turned to look at the other beds around you. “Well on that basis, we can cut out most of the beds here. Ones like these are the best, nothing that’s wood.”

“Know from personal experience, do you?” Harry blushed and you poked his side. “Didn’t know you were so kinky, Styles.”

“Right back at you,” he replied. “So what other tests are involved in the purchase of a bed?”

“Well,” you began, pushing yourself higher on the bed. “Mine creaks a ton, so I need to know how much this one does.”

He glanced between you and the bed, and then the number of people around. “What’s your plan? Jump on the bed or something?”

You shrugged. “Maybe. Got a better idea?”

“You could like, try and push it forward and back?”

“Go for it.”

Harry stood up and walked to the head of the bed, grabbing onto the frame and pulled it forward and back—or tried to. The headboard didn’t budge and you watched with a quirked smile. “It’s not moving,” he mumbled. “Maybe that’s good? Means it’s strong and all that?”

For being two 26-year-olds, you realized, the two of you still didn’t know much about furniture. “Probably. But I still think we should do the jump test.”

“I am not jumping on that bed with you.”

“Harry…”

“No, Y/N, we’re in the middle of a store!”

You huffed out a breath. “Fine.” Then, you turned over and got up on your hands and knees and pushed all of your weight into the mattress and moved backward and forth, trying to see if it would creak or sway as you moved. You could feel Harry’s eyes on your form but you paid him no mind, your focus on the task at hand.

Harry, meanwhile, swallowed thickly as he watched you, the sway of your body sending thoughts he really shouldn’t have been having through his head. Did you realize what you were doing? The position you were in and what it made him think of? Probably not.

“I think this one’s actually pretty good,” you informed him, turning over and lying down on the mattress. “Should I get the mattress too? I’ve had mine for like five years. What’s the lifespan on a mattress?”

“Dunno,” Harry answered, leaning his arm against the wrought iron headboard. “Can you afford both?”

You groaned and sat up. “Why on earth did you have to bring up money? I was having so much fun until you got all responsible on me.”

“Hey, someone’s got to have some sense in our apartment.”

“And that someone is you?”

“You’re the one who wanted to jump on beds in the middle of IKEA on a Saturday, not me.”

You huffed out a sigh and pushed yourself off the bed, coming to standing. “Come on, let’s go look at desks.”

“So you’re getting this one?”

You nodded. “It’s the best one for the handcuffs, isn’t it?” He blushed and you walked ahead of him, letting him push the cart after you.

You spent the rest of Saturday deconstructing your old bed frame and building your new one with Harry’s help. It was definitely a two person job—screwing together the support pieces to the headboard and placing the slats properly, lifting your mattress onto your new bed. By the end of the whole process you were tired, hungry, and a bit cranky, but you had a new bed that you adored. Harry ordered you both pizza, and you opened a bottle of red wine once you’d finished your food, pouring you both a glass.

Harry was sitting on the couch, his sweatshirt long gone, in just his jeans and a black t-shirt stretched across his muscular upper body. In the year he’d lived with you, he’d gained a significant amount of muscle mass, transforming from the more ropey guy who moved in, into this man who looked like a fucking Greek God after a day in the sun. You carried over the wine, handing him his glass and setting the bottle on the table for refills that would definitely occur.

You picked up the remote, anticipating a night of re-watching each of your favorite trashy teen dramas from the early 2000s (yours was What a Girl Wants or the Lizzie McGuire Movie, depending on your mood) when Harry spoke.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” you answered, taking a sip of your wine and opening the Netflix app on your TV.

“It might be a bit too personal, so if you don’t want to answer, just don’t—“

“Harry, just spit it out,” you said, cutting him off.

“What’s the difference in sex between guys and girls?” His question was rushed, but you made out every word and it made you choke on your wine a bit.

You set down your wine glass and turned to fully face him. “Like…generally?”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was endearing, obviously regretting the question once it was out of his mouth. “I don’t know. Fuck, forget I asked—“

“It’s fine,” you told him. You considered his question, mulling over the experiences you’d had with both sexes and comparing the two. To be honest, you didn’t spend much time comparing them because they were different in so many ways. “The most glaring thing,” you began, “is that sex with women can just keep on going until one of you like…can’t anymore. There’s no waiting or anything like there is with guys. So it means that it’s really intense for like a long period of time.”

He was listening intently, fingers tight around his wine glass as you spoke. To be frank, you couldn’t really believe you were having this conversation with Harry of all people. “I guess it’s also different because you don’t have penetration with girls—at least, not in the same way. I’ve never used a strap-on with anyone, just like oral and hands, so it means those things are more intense, in my opinion. Also, girls are really fucking good at oral—not that guys aren’t—but it’s just so good.”

“What makes them better?”

“Not better,” you said, “just different. Softer, in my opinion—like their fingers and hands are softer. And they also can figure out what you need faster, or maybe that’s just the people I’ve been with. There’s definitely something to be said for being a woman and knowing what other women need.”

If it wasn’t for the wine in his hand, Harry might not have had the courage to have this conversation. It had been sitting in the back of his mind for ages, before he even found out you were bi, but now that he knew you were you were one of the few people he could talk to about something like this. You were also one of the few people he trusted to have this conversation with and it to not become too awkward. He felt more comfortable around you than he did with most other people, that was for sure. He considered what you had said, mulling the words over in his head. Softer. He understood that—he loved the softness of women when they touched him, their longer fingernails and the kitten licks they spread over his body.

“Why do you ask?” You tucked your legs up, hooking your arm around your knees as you took another sip of your wine.

He chewed on his lip for a minute, rubbing his finger across the exterior of his glass. “I was just curious, I guess. I didn’t know you were bi until you brought Emily back, so I just started thinking about it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I guess I didn’t even realize you didn’t know, to be honest. I don’t really feel the need to constantly be coming out to people, if that makes sense. Especially if I trust that they won’t care either way.”

“It does.” He shifted forward, taking another sip of his wine and mirroring your position. “And I don’t care either way, just so you know.”

You gave him a smile. “I appreciate that.” You fiddled with the hem of your pajama shorts, the old ratty blue ones from Target you’d had since college, before asking the question floating around in your head. “Now that you’ve asked me a sexual question, it’s my turn.” His eyebrows jumped, but he nodded his okay. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“Are you asking me about my kinks?” He asked, a playful grin on his face, and your eyes fluttered down in embarrassment. “To be honest, I haven’t really tried all that much—haven’t been in that many relationships where I feel comfortable trying stuff out, you know?”

“You’ve obviously tried handcuffs,” you quipped, and he blushed.

“I haven’t, actually. Just…thought about it, I guess.”

“Well,” you said, the wine emboldening you, “you’re always welcome to try it with my bed.”

He laughed, one of his full body ones that made you smile widely at him. “Are you saying I can just have sex in your bed without you there?”

You grimaced. “Actually on second thought, please don’t do that.”

“Only with you present, I promise.” The words were out of his mouth before he had even processed them, the unabashed flirtation so sexual and clear. It made your eyes widen and stop midway through the sip of wine you were about to take. He didn’t even know what to say after that—did he apologize? He couldn’t read your face, couldn’t see if you were okay with his words or made you uncomfortable.

But then you saved him, giving him a small and flirtatious smile, one he’d only seen you give others, never him. The one where your eyes had a fire to the edges, a slight curve to your pink lips, your tongue dart out to wet them. “H, are you trying to get me into bed with you?”

The nickname you had for him fell differently in this moment, the sexual context sending blood straight to his pants. “What if I was?”

The conversation had taken a rapid turn and it had your skin warming, your brain abuzz. What if he was? You had to admit, you’d always found Harry attractive, from that first moment you met him in a coffee shop after he responded to your Craigslist ad. You had always told yourself it was just normal attraction, the same attraction you had to that boy you’d known your entire life and knew was attractive but never actually considered anything more with. It was platonic. You lived with the guy, for Pete’s sake—you witnessed his messy room and how he struggled to cook fish properly and when he had vomited after a night out with his friends. You’d seen him at his worst and at his best, but so had he.

Living with Harry had brought you close in a way you didn’t expect—you didn’t necessarily share everything with him, but he knew you in a way few others did. He could read you well, know how your day was by the way you entered the apartment. You liked the same type of movies, you had routines, you shared about your families over pasta dinners and a bottle of wine when the power was out and you had nowhere else to be. More than anything, you felt safe with him, comfortable, valued. He had always gone out of his way to make sure you felt comfortable with living with him and you thought he was honestly the best roommate you had ever had. You were endlessly grateful he responded to the ad and you’d ended up living with him.

But sex with him? Would it change everything? Probably. Would it change it for the worst, though? You weren’t sure. “Would it change anything?” You asked hesitantly.

He paused, the tension between you thick in your small living room, the soft light from the lamp in the corner basking you both in a warm yellow glow. “Not unless we wanted it to.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then I wouldn’t say no,” you said, voice soft.

Harry’s eyes were boring a hole in yours, his breaths shallow and frequent, panting as you both stared at each other, trying to figure out if what you thought was going to happen would actually occur. “Are you sure?” He asked, leaning slightly towards you.

You lowered your legs so that your knees weren’t up to your chest, and pushed your body closer to his in answer. He reached out and hesitantly brought his hand up to your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, finding your gaze before leaning in to close the distance between you.

The second his lips brushed yours you wondered why you hadn’t done this earlier. With his hand cupping your cheek, he pulled you in closer, his free arm wrapping around your lower back and tugging you into his body. He tasted like pizza and red wine and you thought that you probably did too. Your hands reached up to grip the back of his neck, holding him closer to you and shifting towards him. It felt electric, kissing him, and you were falling into it faster than you could think, craving more and more from him, desperate for his touch and the way he prodded open your lips and touched your tongue with his own.

He was grabbing at your hips, squeezing your skin through your pajamas shorts and the oversized band t-shirt you wore, the pads of his fingers digging into you and his rings heavy against your clothes. Fuck it you decided, and pushed back on his shoulders a bit, unwinding your legs, and swinging them onto either side of his hips, settling firmly into his lap. He looked surprised at your movement, but not mad, especially whenever you adjusted and brushed over his hard-on.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips when you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you kissed him. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, his fingers danced across your back, sliding up your bare skin. You never wore a bra at home, something he’d long ago gotten used to, but to have you pressed to his front, your nipples peaking out, and feeling your bare back under his hand was a completely different experience.

You tugged on the ends of his hair and he groaned into your mouth, a smile spreading across your lips that were between his. With your teeth you tugged on his bottom lip, pulling it away from his mouth and watching as his eyes fell to your mouth, his chest rising and falling as you let go of his lip and sat an inch away from him. Then, he was surging forward again, holding your head in one of his hands and pulling your mouth back to his, chasing you.

Everything about the moment felt good—from the way his hands felt on you to the smell of his cologne and the shower gel you both used, the shared laundry detergent on his clothes. His lips on yours, the prod of his tongue against yours, the way the sounds that left him rang in your ears. Your chest was crushed against his, knees tight against his hips, pushing him back into the pillow behind his head so that you were both horizontal on the couch, your body hovering over his.

The two of you lingered in that position, letting the swivel of your hips over his pelvis draw moans from you both, soft and breathy sounds that filled your living room. Harry’s hands ran under your shirt and then back down to your hips to guide you, a path he repeated over and over again and you weren’t complaining. You loved the feeling of his hands on your body. You were resting fully on his chest, your nipples hard under your shirt as you ground yourself against him, your forearms resting on the pillow behind his head for leverage.

When his hips bucked up into yours, you couldn’t help but rasp his name, a “Harry,” falling from your lips with ease. You trailed your lips down his neck in response, pushing at the neck of his shirt to find the spot at the base of his neck where you sucked harshly. His fingers pressed tighter on your hips and you smiled against his skin. “Like that?” You asked, licking over the mark you’d made.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling your hips over his. You could feel how hard he was through your pajama shorts and his jeans and you were curious. Living with him you’d seen him in just his briefs and the occasional swimsuit when he was heading to the pool with friends, but you’d never seen him fully nude. However, you had a pretty good idea of his size and you couldn’t say you weren’t eager.

Slowly, you inched your hand down his chest, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt, loving the noises that spilled from his mouth at the feeling. When your hand reached his jeans, though, he pulled at your wrist, ripping you away. “What?”

“I wanna do you,” he said. “You were talking earlier about oral and now I’m curious where I fall on the scale.”

He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? “Okay,” you told him, pressing your palm into his torso. “Where do you want to be?”

“Bed,” he replied, nudging at your nose. “Let’s see how much that new bed creaks.”

You pushed up off of him, and he followed you to your bed with his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest mid-way through the way to kiss you again, pulling a gasp from your throat when he surprised you. When you pushed open your door, for the first time there was no point in closing it behind you because the only other person who could have seen what was happening was already in the room with you. Harry’s body mirrored yours as you stepped backwards towards your bed, following you as you fell onto the duvet that you had placed there only a matter of hours earlier.

You wanted his skin, to see him and feel him in this way, and so you pushed at the hem of his shirt, the word, “Off,” sticking in your throat when he pulled it up and off of his body, tossing it to the side without consequence. Bare skin stretched in front of you, covered in swirlings of black ink that you had seen before, but never like this. Never when it was yours to see, to touch, to feel. So you took full advantage, sliding your palms up his chest as he leaned back down.

“Your turn,” he mumbled, sucking on your nipple through your shirt, your back arching towards his mouth in a silent beg for more. Fingers pressed into the sliver of your stomach that was exposed, and you raised your arms as if to tell he could push it off, which he did, creeping the fabric up your body and leaving kisses in the wake of the hem. Once it was over your head, he licked over your bare nipple and your a wet mewl left your lips.

“H,” you rasped, tugging on the locks of his hair, the strands threading between your fingers.

His head bounced up, the forest green of his irises barely visible, his pupils blown out with desire. “What?”

You opened your legs wider, and Harry smiled devilishly at you, giving your cleavage on final pull with his lips before creeping down your body. You didn’t stop him when he went to tug off your shorts, nor did you stop him when he laid between your legs, or when he licked and sucked and pulled at your inner thighs, making your chest shudder with desperation.

Nor did you stop him when his tongue touched your clit, licking a straight line up from your slit to your bud. Instead, you gasped his name, a curse mixed in falling from your lips, and tugged his head closer to you. He’d collected saliva on his tongue without you realizing it and the wetness of it was running all over your hot skin, a distinct slurping noise filling the air that only made it hotter. You picked up your head and watched in rapture as he licked into you, his curls falling into his face as he moved between your legs.

He alternated between sucking on your clit and swiping at your slit, nudging his tongue into you just to drive you crazy. Which he succeeded in doing, based on how your hips picked up when he did it, chasing the pressure he left in his wake. He was turning you into a mess, a mess only for him, desire and your orgasm falling through you faster than usual. For some reason he had been concerned about how good he was, but now he was between your legs and you didn’t know how you had gone twenty-six years without him. How you had lived with him for a year and never felt him like this, seen him like this—his head tilting up and the sight of your juices on coating his lips and chin, his tongue darting out to taste them.

“So?” He asked, pressing into your plush thighs, his rings leaving an indentation in their wake. “Where do I fit on the scale?”

“You haven’t made me come,” you responded, voice rough, breath catching in your lungs as you tried to inhale properly.

A wicked smile flashed onto his face, and then he brushed his tongue in a circle around your clit, your fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m not done yet.” Then he was back between your legs, drawing mewls and moans from you like it was his job, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the mattress, back arching as you tried to grind down on his face. You could feel your walls tightening around nothing and you needed something there, a little bit more.

“Your fingers,” you said, picking up your head to look at him. “I need your fingers.”

Harry glanced up at you, before he answered your plea with his touch, not his words. Not being a man for warning, the tips of his forefinger and middle finger brushed at your entrance just once before pushing inside of you, a deep and unrelenting moan flowing from you with ease. “Yeah? That feel good?”

You could tell he liked praise and so you tightened your hold on his hair and muttered a Yes, bringing his lips back to your center as he drove his fingers inside of you at a brutal pace. The sound of his fingers and your wetness echoed in your ears, but the louder sound was Harry’s grunts and moans and curses below you whenever he brought his head up for air. Somehow, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you, which definitely gave him some bonus points in your book.

“Gonna come for me, Y/N?” His words were rough and deep, a lower octave to his voice you hadn’t heard before, and it made you desperate for him. Your hips pushed down against his hand, craving more inside of you, and that was when the cold metal of his rings brushed your entrance. The coldness against the warmth of your skin felt heavenly and you mewled at the touch, Harry chuckling lightly from where he laid.

You could feel your belly tightening, the tell tale sign of an orgasm quickly approaching, but you needed just barely more from him. You didn’t know what it was, but you needed more. So you asked, a “More, please,” leaving your mouth in a chant.

He was unfazed, doubling his pace inside of you and suckling on your clit repeatedly before letting his lips fall to your entrance, slipping around the taught skin with his tongue to add to the sensation. It had your back arching and you knew you were mere seconds away. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you called into the room, your grip on his hair lethal as he licked you into your orgasm.

It crashed into you and he fucked you through it with his fingers, sucking and pulling on your bud as you rode his fingers, back arched and a series of curses circling around you. “Beautiful,” you barely heard him mumble into your skin, the low rumble of his voice sending vibrations through you.

Once you’d regained your breath he was crawling up the length of your body, kisses littered across your bare skin. “Fuck,” you said, a chuckle leaving you as you were reacquainted with the sight of his face hovering above you.

“So?” He asked, hands coming to rest on either side of your head. “What’s my rating?”

You tugged at his neck and dropped his body to yours, his lips meeting yours in a cruel fire. You rolled your hips up and wrapped your legs around his waist, shoving him to the side that he rotated, falling to his back and you above him. “You know exactly how good you are,” you told him, licking and pulling at his neck. “You arrogant asshole.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest, his hands coming to sit on your waist as you brushed back and forth on his jeans. “I distinctly remember you asking me not to stop, so I’m going to go with a high rating? Perhaps the best of all the men who have come before me?”

You knew his ego was big enough that you didn’t need to inflate it, but for some reason you did anyways. “You’d be right about that,” you told him, shoving his legs apart so you could sit between them and popping the button on his jeans. “Now, can I fuck you?”

Harry laughed one of his full body laughs, his head raising off the bed at your words. “Yeah, go ahead, sweetheart,” he said once he’d calmed, a smile stretched across his face at the sight of you between his knees.

With a roll of your eyes, you tugged on the denim, pulling it down his legs. “Do you ever wear underwear?” You asked him, pushing the material off the bed and gazing at his erect pink cock resting on his belly.

“Why?”

“Just trying to figure out how you manage to walk around with that thing and no underwear.”

“Oi!” He said, a frown fixing onto his lips at your laughter. “It’s not a thing, it’s my dick and it’s about to be fucking you, so no mean words, hmm?”

When your fingers wrapped around him all of his laughter and complaints were gone with a string of curse words, his hips bucking up at your touch. You pumped him a few times, nosing at his thigh just to rile him up a bit more. He was warm and heavy in your grip. For the most part, you found dicks the same as all body parts, but Harry’s was beautiful in a way few were. It made you even wetter than he had left you and gathered saliva on your tongue, and when you pushed on the tip delicately with your thumbpad and heard him groan, you knew you couldn’t wait any longer.

You pushed up off of the bed and he whined at your absence, but you ignored him. You had a mission. Rifling through your bedside table, you finally landed on the item you were searching for—the handcuffs you’d purchased a few months ago and had been waiting to try out.

Harry’s eyes widened at the clink of the metal and watched as you swung them on your finger, a coy smile on your face. “Remember these?” You asked, moving to the headboard where you threaded through the wrought iron. “Didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?”

“No,” he said, gulping and raising his wrists to you, pliant as ever.

“Good,” you answered, a kiss to each of his wrists before securing them in the handcuffs, tugging on the chain to make sure it would hold. “Now then.” You re-positioned yourself over his hips, one knee on either side, and trailed your fingers down his chest. “You look so pretty laid out for me like this.”

Harry’s mind was spinning as he gazed up at you. He’d never felt quite like this—so powerless, but so desperate for someone. You’d turned him to mush with just a few touches and he wanted you in a way he had needed few. The handcuffs weren’t what did it, either, it was the way you touched him, the quirk of your smile and your laughter, how you had bucked into his face, how your fingers touched his skin. He didn’t realize until he was underneath you how long he had been waiting to be there at your mercy, willing to take any shred you’d give him.

“You okay?” You asked, voice soft as you touched his cheek.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I’m okay.”

You leaned down and kissed his chest, before snatching the condom you’d laid out on the duvet. Rolling it down his length he hissed at the touch, but you tried to be gentle, knowing that the handcuffs were probably a lot. Then, you rose up onto your knees, positioning yourself over him, and raised his cock, brushing the tip against your entrance. Your eyes found his as you lowered onto him, a groan leaving both of your chests as you took him.

“Holy shit,” he said as your hips met him, his length fully inside of you. “Shit, Y/N.”

You rocked back and forth on him, your fingernails digging into his chest at the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside of you. “Feels so good,” you mumbled, your words long gone from making sense. It always happened—you lost the ability to think about what you were saying, words becoming a string of consciousness. “So deep, H.”

“Yeah?” You could hear the handcuffs rattling against your headboard as you moved over him, but the bed wasn’t creaking yet, just shifting back and forth. His hips raised up to yours, pushing him deeper inside of you somehow and it made you both moan, deep and unrestrained.

Not having to censor your sounds was a completely different experience and you loved it. Your eyes flickered up to where his wrists were clasped in the handcuffs, his nails digging into his palms, the cross tattoo on his thumb shining in the light of your bedroom. “How do they feel?” You asked, bouncing up and down on him.

He couldn’t answer at first, mind swimming from the tight metal on his wrists and the way you held him inside of you so snugly. His whole body was warm, from his sweat and your touch and just the overwhelming desire rolling through him. “Like them,” he finally got out, because he did. Something about the restraints made it more intense, the fact that he couldn’t touch you, the fact that you were just fucking him like you wanted to. It was making his orgasm rush towards him, a twitching throughout his body he was barely staving off.

“They’re hot,” you said, using your knees you speed up your tempo, needing him faster inside of you. “Like seeing you all tied up.”

Usually you didn’t feel this comfortable this quickly with someone you were hooking up with, but with Harry you knew he would never judge him. You trusted him fully and here, in this room, was no different. “I’m close,” he rasped when you swiveled your hips, brushing him against your g-spot and whining out his name.

“Yeah?” Your fingernails crept down his torso leaving long red marks in their wake. “Wanna see you come, H,” you mumbled, splaying your palms out on his abdomen, which was taut from the pleasure he was trying to hold off.

“Fuck,” he yelled when you clenched down on him, his hips bouncing up immediately, slamming against yours. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” then he was coming, the combination of the cold metal on his wrists leaving him at your mercy and the tightness you held around him combining to send him toppling over the edge.

You bent over, your torso resting on his and fucked yourself on him as best you could, not wanting to overwhelm him but also chasing your own release. The sound of your name on his tongue, a raw and unhinged moan ripping through him from his own sensitivity. “Close,” you said, kissing across his collarbone and blowing softly on the mark you’d left earlier.

The sight of his eyes screwed shut and the panting of his breath, the way his chest heaved as he tried to calm down, mixed with him begging for you to find your release left you squirming above him, body rattling with your orgasm. You clenched down on him as you came and he grunted at the feeling, but you couldn’t stop it, a call of his name leaving your mouth.

It left you worn-out and desperate for cuddles, so you reached up, unfastening the handcuffs and releasing his wrists. His hands found your skin immediately, hooking them around your back and pulling you flush. You lifted up off of him so that he could pull the condom off and you whimpered at the loss. “Tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“S’okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your forehead. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shutting your eyes against his skin. “How was that?”

He let out a breath, taut and tight in the room. “Fucking insane,” he answered, and you giggled next to him as he pinched your ass lightly. “You’ve been hiding that from me for all this time, huh?”

“Guess so.”

He chuckled, nudging your forehead with his chin. “Think you might want to do that again sometime?”

You picked up your head, opening your eyes to look at him. “Sure I didn’t scare you off with the handcuffs?”

“Fuck no,” he replied in a rush. “Blew my mind.”

“Then yeah,” you told him. “As long as it’s my turn next.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up, and then a grin spread across his face. “Your turn, eh?”

His red-tinged wrists wrapped around you and smothered you in kisses, your hands batting at his body in a fit of laughter, but he didn’t quit. Instead, he pulled you close, a final press of his lips to your cheek, and you settled in against his body, knowing he’d be there in the morning.

He was your roommate, after all—where else did he have to be?

thank you for reading!!!! please go check out the other writers in the bificathon here, reblog this fic, and come chat with me in my inbox about this fic if you liked it. xoxo love you all!

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Get Caught - Owen Joyner x Reader (16+)

Request: mischievous/playful/giggly sneaking around with Owen on set or evading Charlie in their apartment

Word Count: 3142 words

Summary: You are a makeup artist on set for Julie and The Phantoms and quickly began messing around with Owen, but the fear of potentially losing your job if anyone finds out has the two of you sneaking around and trying your best to not be caught aka 4 times you and Owen were almost caught messing around and one time you were 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, implied oral sex, reference to m*sturbation

A/N: hi all! so this is my first attempt at a jatp related fic so hopefully i do okay, sorry for any mistakes, most of this was written and edited from 2am-6am because those are my motivation hours  i also don’t usually write reader insert so fingers crossed i dont mess this up lol. i have a ton of requests to work through so keep an eye out for things coming soon (hopefully)  also, to the person who requested this, sorry it took so long (my dumb ass deleted 90% of it and had to start again) i really hope i did your idea justice :)

1. Makeup Trailer 

The first time you met Owen was on your first day on set. Kenny had dragged the cast in to meet you, and something about Owen drew you in and you just knew you had to get to know the beautiful blonde boy. 

Luckily your chance came sooner than expected when you were working alone in the makeup trailer a few days later. The door opened and Owen came in, smiling brightly when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?” He asked. You nodded.

“I am.” You replied and he grinned.

“I’m Owen. Nice to meet you, again.” He said awkwardly.

You giggled at his awkwardness. 

“Nice to meet you again too. Sit down.” You gestured to the chair in front of you and he sat down. You got to work quickly, working in silence for a few minutes before Owen spoke up.

“So how long have you been doing makeup for? You look young.” He asked.

“I’ve been doing it professionally for 5 years now. I started working in my mum’s salon when I was 15, and when I graduated I did a course to get me this job.” You told him. He paused.

“So you’re 20?” He questioned, and you nodded.

“I am.” 

“Cool, I’m 19.”  He said, and you hummed in response, concentrating on making sure his face didn’t looked cakey.

“So are you from around here?” You shook your head.

“Nah I moved here from Quebec.” You said.

“Alone? Or with your family or... boyfriend?” Owen asked, the last part sounding slightly bitter.

“Yeah I came alone, my mum is too busy with her salon, and my siblings are still in school. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him and he grinned slightly.

“Good to know.” He muttered quietly. You raised an eyebrow, not quite hearing him properly.

“Sorry?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Nothing.” 

“Okay...” You trailed off, not believing him. “Well you’re all done.”

“Already?” He frowned slightly. 

“Yep.” You smiled.

“Oh. Thanks.” He stood up, pausing slightly. 

“Can I get your number?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly. Realisation dawned on you.

“So that’s why you asked about a boyfriend.” You said, eyebrow raised. 

“Guilty.” He grinned cheekily.

“Give me your phone.” You held out your hand and he placed his phone in it, and you quickly added a new contact, typing in your number and texting yourself from his phone.

“There. I’ll text you pretty boy.” You said, handing him his phone back. He grinned.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He said, turning to leave for the hair trailer. You watched him leave with a smile on your face.

A week of texting and flirting later and you found yourself alone with Owen in the makeup trailer again.

“So what scenes are you filming today pretty boy?” You questioned as you began to apply his makeup.

“Why do you always call me pretty boy?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Because you’re pretty? And a boy?” You said, pulling a face.

“Are you flirting with me?” He grinned, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” You said. He bit his lip.

“So if I tried to kiss you you’d say?” He asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Eh why not?” You said it like it was nothing but inside you were freaking out.

“Y/N.” He groaned and you giggled.

“Just kidding.” You teased.

“So?” He asked again after a moment of silence. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god just kiss me you dork.” Owen didn’t even take a second to think about it, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, connecting your lips in a less than innocent kiss. Your lips fitted together perfectly, and he tasted faintly of blueberry and spearmint. After what felt like a lifetime he pulled away from you, leaving you panting and wanting more.

“Wow that was...” He was the first to speak, his voice breathy. You nodded.

“Yep.” You said simply. “I should probably...”

You stood up from his lap, and had barely stepped away when the door opened.

“Hey Y/N, one of my lashes came off and... oh...” Savannah’s voice came, the young actress pausing when she saw how close the two of you were.

“Hey Savannah.” You said with a smile. She returned your smile before glancing back at Owen.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She asked. The two of you shook your heads.

“No, not at all.” You said.

“I was just leaving.” Owen added, standing up from his chair. Savannah raised an eyebrow.

“If you say so.” She replied as Owen left the trailer quickly. The door shut behind him and Savannah grinned at you.

“You like him.” She said, her tone teasing.

“No...” You denied. Savannah rolled her eyes.

“You so do Y/N. And I know Owen, he definitely likes you too.” She told you.

“If you say so.” You said, grabbing a new fake lash to fix the missing one.

Savannah grinned. 

“Oh I know so. You’ll see.”

2. Julie’s Bedroom Set

“Come on Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Owen had said as he dragged you through the filming lot towards the set of Julie’s bedroom. You had been heading off to grab some lunch when he had intercepted you and asked if you wanted to “hang”, which by this point you knew was code for hide somewhere and make out for a while. You had originally said no, but those darn puppy eyes had made you say yes before you even realised you were saying it. 

“What if someone catches us?” You had questioned, but Owen silenced your worries with a blistering kiss that left you breathless. 

“We’ll be fine.” He muttered as he pulled away. “Don’t stress.” 

“Famous last words.” You muttered, allowing him to pull you back in and kiss you again. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing that he would have to have it fixed up before his next scene anyways. 

It had been a few weeks since that first kiss in the makeup trailer, and since then you had learnt the taste and feeling of Owen’s lips on yours, a feeling that was now so familiar to you that it felt like second nature. 

You mindlessly kissed him back, thanking your past self for deciding to use your favourite chapstick flavour, choc mint, on him earlier that morning when you did his makeup for the day. 

You pulled away to take a breath and he grinned at you. 

“I’m glad we met.” He said. You blushed slightly.

“Me too.” You agreed.

He pulled you back in and kissed you again, this kiss more passionate than the last, and you shuffled closer to him, your lips never leaving his for a second. You could feel his hands resting on your waist, his tongue in your mouth, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

Suddenly you heard a noise and you pulled away quickly, the fear of being caught overpowering your feelings for Owen.

“Someone’s coming.” You said quickly. Owen frowned.

“What?” He questioned.

“There’s someone coming.” You repeated and his expression changed to fear.

“Fuck, what do we do? Run?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” 

He grabbed your hands and pulled you up off the bed, linking your fingers together before dragging you off the set, the both of you giggling the whole way back to his trailer.

“It’s kinda fun, almost but not quite getting caught.” You admitted once the two of you were curled up on the couch in his trailer.

“It is.” He agreed. “But do you know what’s even more fun?”

“What?” You questioned.

“Making out with you.”

And if Owen went back to set with the taste of your orgasm on his tongue that was for only the two of you to know. 

3. Owen and Charlie’s Living Room 

You had just finished some finishing touches on Savannah’s makeup when Owen burst into the makeup trailer. 

“You’re all done.” You told Savannah and she grinned. 

“Thanks Y/N.” She stood up from the chair. “See you later. Bye Owen.” 

She glanced between the two of you, before turning and giving you a quick wink as she left, leaving you and Owen alone in the trailer. 

“So?” You spoke, beginning to pack up your brushes. “Why are you here?” 

“Well you see, I’m finished for the day and I checked your schedule and you are too, and I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place to watch a movie and chill or something.” Owen spoke, plopping himself into one of the chairs and spinning around. 

"What about Charlie?” You asked, placing your brush bag into the large drawer of your makeup supplies. 

“He’s filming the Perfect Harmony scene with Madi. We’d have the place to ourselves for at least a few hours.” You paused, considering his offer. 

“Okay.” You replied simply. He cheered. 

“Are you ready to go now?” He asked, standing up, and you nodded. He grinned slightly, pulling you in and kissing you softly. 

“Hi, by the way.” He whispered once he pulled away. You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Let’s just go.” 

You somehow managed to make it off set and back to the building where most of the cast and crew were living without anyone noticing the two of you together.

“What floor?” You asked as you hopped into the elevator.

“6.” He replied, and you pressed the button, riding in silence to his floor. He took your hand, pulling you towards the apartment he shared with Charlie, unlocking the front door and dragging you towards the couch.

“So you mentioned a movie?” You said once the two of you were settled. Owen nodded. 

“I did, what do you wanna watch?” He asked. 

“I actually have a better idea.” You grinned, climbing on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Oh I see.” He replied, grabbing your top and pulling you down to kiss you roughly.

It felt like no time had passed at all when suddenly the front door unlocked.

“Fuck.” You said, jumping off him quickly and settling onto the couch next to Owen, pretending as if you’d been there the whole time. Charlie entered the room, frowning slightly when he saw you sat on the couch.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Charlie questioned, throwing his bag onto the chair. 

“I.. Um...” You stumbled. “I was just leaving.” 

You stood up quickly, thankful that the shoes you wore were slip on’s. 

Charlie eyed Owen carefully as the door shut and Owen shrugged.

“Should I ask?” Charlie questioned. Owen shook his head.

“Nope.”

4. Owen’s Bedroom 

After a couple of close calls on set and in the living room, the next time you came over you and Owen went straight to his room.

He laid down on his bed and you climbed on top of him, kissing him instantly.

“God you’re perfect.” He muttered, lips and tongues combining in a mess of passion and lust. Owen pulled at your shirt, tugging it over your head, and you did the same for him. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking gently to leave a mark.

The front door opened and Owen groaned.

“Shit, is that Charlie?” You asked. He nodded. “What do we do?”

“Uh... get in the closet.” He suggested and you giggled, grabbing onto your shirt so Charlie wouldn’t see it if he came in.

“Owen? You here?” Charlie called, and Owen dragged you into the closet, pulling the door shut behind you.

“Shh.” Owen whispered. You tried to hide your smile.

“I didn’t say anything.” You told him, and he rolled his eyes playfully. The door to Owen’s room opened and the two of you froze, bodies pressed together.

“God I hope that’s your phone pressed against my leg.” You whispered after a moment. Owen pulled a face in the darkness. 

“Uh... no.” He replied, and you giggled awkwardly. 

“Don’t laugh, this isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It is funny. We’re trapped in your closet waiting for Charlie to leave and you still manage to be turned on?” You questioned with a giggle

“I can’t help it when someone as attractive as you is pressed up against me. Plus you don’t have a shirt on so...” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah?” You pressed yourself against his body more forcefully. Owen groaned quietly. 

“Fuck, stop it.” He muttered. You smirked. 

“No.” You whispered, and Owen placed his hands on your waist. 

“Y/N...” His voice was low, and just the sound of it sent flutters through your stomach. 

“Owen...” You replied just as quietly. “Before you ask, I’m not gonna fuck you in a closet.” 

“Why not?” He whined. You rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t even have to ask that question.” 

The front door slammed shut and Owen let out a sigh of relief, pushing open the closet door. You stepped past him and made your way over to the bed, Pulling your shirt back on before sitting down to pull your shoes on. 

“Wait where are you going?” He questioned, pouting. 

“Back to set, I have a job to do, remember?” You reminded him, tying your laces on your left shoe before reaching for the right. 

“Can’t you call in sick?” He tried. You raised an eyebrow. 

“From my lunch break?” He shrugged. 

“Food poisoning?” 

“Owen.” You gave him a look and he groaned, flopping onto the bed. 

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do about this?” He motioned towards his crotch. You stood up, grabbing your phone, and walked towards the door, pausing before you exited the room. 

“You have a hand. Use it.” And with that, you left. 

+1. Owen and Charlie’s Kitchen 

It was a day off from filming so you decided to have a lazy day. It was almost lunch time when you woke up, and you would have slept longer if it wasn’t for your phone ringing obnoxiously from its spot on your nightstand. 

You rolled over, grabbing the phone and answered without even checking the caller ID. 

“Hello?” You spoke, voice full of sleep. 

“Good morning, Charlie has gone for a hike, wanna come over?” Owen’s voice came through the phone. 

“Sure, why not. Give me half an hour to have a shower and get changed.” You replied, already climbing out of bed. Owen cheered causing you to smile slightly. 

“Awesome, I’ll see you in half an hour.” He said. “And don’t eat anything.” 

“Okay.” You replied, and before you could even say goodbye he had hung up. You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone back onto the bed and grabbing a simple outfit of a crop t-shirt and shorts out of your wardrobe, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. 

25 minutes later you were knocking on the door of Owen and Charlie’s apartment. The door opened, revealing a shirtless Owen, and you had to stop yourself from checking him out as he let you in. 

“Any reason why I wasn’t allowed to eat?” You questioned, following him down the hall into the kitchen. 

“Because, I thought we could make pancakes together.” He gestured to the pile of ingredients sitting on the counter. 

“How domestic. Didn’t realise we had become a married couple.” You teased, and he blushed slightly. 

“I just thought it would be fun.” He defended, and you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be. And delicious.” You agreed.

He grinned, grabbing the ingredients. 

“Let’s get started then.” 

Somehow you found yourself sitting on the counter, eating the batter while Owen cooked the pancakes. 

“There!” Owen exclaimed, flipping the last pancake onto the plate he had gotten out. “All done.” 

He turned to face you, his smile turning into a look of concentration. 

“You have a little something...” He said, positioning himself between your legs. You paused, waiting for him to move. Slowly he lifted his hand, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Much better.” He muttered. The two of you were still, a stand off to see who would make the first move. You leaned in slowly, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

It was as if the first brush of your lips opened the floodgates. Owen grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you forward, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the pancakes long forgotten.

You tangled your hands through his hair, moaning slightly when you felt his hands on your ass, and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even hear the front door open.

“Hey Owen, I forgot my-” Charlie’s voice came, stopping abruptly as he took in the scene in front of him.

Owen stepped away from you quickly, but even if Charlie hadn’t seen you kissing, it was obvious what the two of you had been up to.

No one blinked. Finally, Owen broke the silence.

“You were meant to be hiking all day.” He said, somewhat defensively.

“I forgot my phone, so I came back for it. I figured you’d be on the couch where I left you. I didn’t realise you’d be...” He stopped, focusing his attention on you. “Hi Y/N.”

You waved awkwardly.

“So...” Charlie looked between you and Owen. “Am I pretending I didn’t see this, or...” He trailed off. 

You and Owen shared a look before nodding.

“Just for now, at least.” You said, and Charlie nodded.

“Got it. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oh, and if you have sex on the kitchen counter please clean it afterwards. I eat off that thing.” He winked at Owen and before either of you could respond he had left the room.

“Sorry about him.” Owen sighed slightly.

“You didn’t know he’d leave his phone. Besides, now we can hang out here together and not have to worry about Charlie walking in on something he doesn’t know about.” You replied, and Owen grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You had just started to find a rhythm in kissing again when a cleared throat broke you apart.

“Dude!” Owen exclaimed, glaring at Charlie who was leaning against the wall, grinning cheekily.

“Just wanted to say goodbye. And warn you that I’ll be back at 3, so make sure any... activities-” He winked suggestively. “Are done by then.”

“Get out.” Owen glared at him. Charlie grinned, turning to leave quickly.

“Bye Y/N!” He called back as he left.

“Bye.” You called, giggling slightly.

Owen rolled his eyes as the front door shut behind Charlie. Focusing his attention back on you he smiled slightly.

“Now where were we?” He questioned, pulling you back in and connecting your lips again.

And if you did end up having sex on the kitchen counter, Charlie would never have to know.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 3/?

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N -Any name (your best friend’s name)

Part 3! Date 2 is going to be underway with this one. Enjoy!

I had to change my pfp and my header cause they were being dickheads so just be aware if you liked looking at the batboys when clicking on my profile lmao <3

Warnings: Swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd, Dark humor.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15)  (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N woke up the next day feeling like she could take on the world, energized, with a new crush, and full of life, a stark shift from how she usually was. She was never normally a morning person and had a severe addiction to caffeine. I mean, the addiction was still there and she still needed coffee before she could go to her 3pm class and meet up with Jason again, but she was happy. She would put on her clothes and pack her bag before even getting coffee.

“G’morning, A/N!”

“Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?” A/N joked.

“Down girl, I’m just peppy today, it’ll probably wear down and it’s probably a once-in-a-blue-moon deal,” Y/N said as she started brewing her coffee.

“You got a date with Jason today?”

“I do!”

“That explains it,” A/N joked again.

“Says the one with a boyfriend,” she shot back.

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just hooking up right now, trust me, if he was, you’d know, darlin’.”

“So what did dreamboat ask last night?” A/N asked.

“Well I said ‘What do you want to know?’ and he said ‘We’ll talk about it today, maybe during notes or maybe during our lunch date, we’ll see how i’m feeling.’ so I think that’s good?”

“You kidding? You got that man wrapped around your finger, respect.”

“Shut up.”

“No thanks, I have free speech y’know.”

“Yeah you can say whatever, but I can also use my free speech rights to tell you to shove it, so, checkmate,” you sneered at her.

“That’s fair,” A/N paused and then changed the subject, “Have you heard Brutal yet?” she asked.

“You’re damn right I have, I wonder where that was for me at 17. But to be fair, I would still blast it now at my parents just to make them irk.”

“They would kill you for listening to that song instead of their Christian Rock.”

“Worth it, I’ll die swinging and singing.” Y/N mused.

“It really is Brutal out here.”

“Leave, get out, that sucked, blocked, friendship over.”

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

She walked up to her 3pm class, to be greeted by Jason at the door, with of course, her new knowledge of the tabloids and their minions, she questioned why he’d do this.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“’Afternoon, Jason.”

“I’m trying to give the tabloids a show, don’t mind me.” he mused.

“I’m not surprised, but class is in 5.”

“Then I guess we should sit down and get ready to write at lightning speeds.”

She went to sit down, followed close by Jason. She couldn’t help but notice everyone was staring, but she didn’t care. This is going to be fun, she thought, I’m glad they’re gonna get a fucking kick out of this, she finished her thought.

Class went on as usual, with her scribbling down the notes so quick her arms hurt by the end of it, and Jason just sitting around making sure she wasn’t losing her arms to the writing, and casually laughing at the Professor. Then, the Professor brought up Barry Allen. Dr. Barry Allen and what he does for the criminal psychology people. 

“Forensics go hand-in-hand with criminal psych, normally we can tell, as scholars, from the hitting of the weapon why and who might’ve done it.” The Professor said.

 She saw Jason tense up a bit, and whispered over to him;

“You know Dr. Barry Allen don’t you?”

“He’s my uncle,” he whispered back.

“Well, be sure to tell him I’ve read some of his essays when I wanted to go into forensics instead of criminal psychology.”

“Really? He has essays?”

“Many. Very good writing. 10/10.”

“You’re going to make his week if you keep talking like this.” he mused.

“Good.” you mocked.

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

“So, you’re intermixed with a renowned journalist, a legend in forensic testing and you’re the son of Bruce Wayne?” she asked Jason, she couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but there they were, all cards on the table.

“Yeah, I know this is all new to you but famous people tend to know other famous people.” he joked with her.

“Well that’s fair, I guess I kind of know Clark, I met him once at a office party with my mum.”

“He’d probably remember you.”

“Enough of your family ties, huh? You said you wanted to know more about me?”

“Yes, that, did you tell your roommate to pick up your car?” he asked her.

“I did, why was I meant to do that, by the way?” she asked him.

“Because, we, you and I, Y/N, are going to go for a joyride on my motorbike and try to get away from these,” he lowered his voice, “bitch ass cameras,” he grabbed her hand and started running towards his bike, dodging all the paparazzi who just wanted the snag shot of the two. They don’t even know my name, and they’re going off about this, she thought.

When the two met his bike, she looked over it fondly. This guy really likes his red, she thought, that’s fair, I do too.

“Nice bike.”

“Thank you, Y/N. We can ride this bad boy out to the country and try to escape the cameras, which kind of cuts into the lunch date, but hey-”

“That’s just the life someone famous has to live?” she questioned.

“You’re catching on.”

“I could have been a detective if I wanted it.”

He laughed and sat down on his bike and like instinct, she sat behind him and wrapped her hands on his chest and leant in. She didn’t know how to passenger a motorbike, but he didn’t say she did it wrong.

“You ready?”

“Jason, are you going to kill me?”

“Well if the shoe fits.” he mused.

“I’m ready.”

And off they went.

There was something about the way the bike drove through the streets of Gotham that she loved so much, she had already fallen in love with the restless city and called it home long before right now, but this was exhilarating for her. Somehow driving at 120mph was amazing, it brought out this feeling of freedom, something she hadn’t ever felt back home in Metropolis.

It’s worth it, she thought, it’s forever going to be worth it.

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

Pulling her off of his bike, the two of them laid underneath the tree on the small hill Jason pulled over by.

“Do you think we escaped the pap?” she asked him.

“Probably not.”

“Festive.”

“So, Y/N, it’s your turn to open up about your family. Besides your mum, I already know about your mum.”

“So, my twin sister goes to our rival school, the Metropolis one, I think she’s more of a people person than I’ll ever be. My parents are still together, they got married after they had my sister and I, so I’m a bastard,” she laughed, “I always like telling people I’m by definition a bastard, a lot of them get mad all like, ‘don’t call yourself that you’re a lovely girl’ and it’s just funny to me,”

He laughed, “You call yourself a bastard out of spite?”

“Am I supposed to not? I think it’s funny-”

“It’s pretty funny. I live out of spite too,” he said, almost like he was pulling out a bad memory, but she egged him on slightly,

“Spite who?” she asked.

“Spite God.”

She let out a laugh, and he seemed to let go of whatever memory he had clung onto to watch her laugh. It was clearly a distracting laugh.

“God tried to strike you and you just went ‘Nah mate, go away’? Respectable. I would do that.” she said while laughing.

“That’s exactly what happened, Y/N-” and his phone pinged, he turned it over, it was Dick.

“Mind sharing who that is?”

“I don’t mind, it’s my older brother sending me an article of us today. We really gave them a show holding hands,” he began reading, “ ‘Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd, Caught Holding Hands with the Mystery Girl.’ “

“One day they will know my name. And it will be a massive article. Like a gender reveal.”

“Like a gender reveal?!” he said back to her, laughing so hard his smile reached ends she didn’t expect it to be able to go.

“It wasn’t that funny of a joke, Jason,” she said.

“It’s a better joke than my brothers and sister could ever come up with, Y/N, and they’ve had Galas to practice for,” he retorted.

“I’ll set it ablaze like the California gender reveal,” she continued with the joke, expecting this to be too far, but this also showed her that Jason liked dark humor, and she did too.

He burst out laughing at this, and she smiled.

“You have perfect teeth, Jason.”

“Is that what you’re focused on?” he asked.

“They are the forefront when you smile, it is hard not to.”

“Romantic,” he mocked her.

“I can be more romantic next date, if you want it,” she said, inclined towards him saying I want it. She was right.

“I want it.”

[arvinsescape]

Can you write a one shot (as long as you want, just not a blurb, thz) where there is a big family dinner, both Hollands and Osterfields, plus friends, so like Tuwaine is also there, Haz' gf is there, and Charlotte has inviteret her best friend, you, (just age Charlotte up, cuz she is only 19, so like 23). And Tom falls so bad for her, but she is his best friends little sisters best friend (hope it isn't too confusing), so it's kinda complicated. You can choose the rest <3 love u

A/N: Thank you for sending it in! I hope this is what you were looking for! I have aged up Charlotte and reader, they are both 23, hope that's okay. I kept with the concept 💕

Warnings: Language and implied sex.

Tom had met you a couple of times and he couldn't help the way you made his heart race, he really wished it wouldn't. When he says he's met you though, he's never properly spoken to you, you're so quiet. Not that he thought that was a bad thing he just didn't know how to speak to you.

He'd realised that if he ever did want to get to know you better he was going to have to initiate the conversation. So here he was sat next to Tuwaine, as they chatted with the rest of his family and waited for everyone else to show up.

"Hey!" Harrison waved, followed by Grace and Charlotte, who were all waving. You behind them all as you shyly waved your hand in everyone's direction. Tom thought it was absolutely fucking adorable. He tried to shake the thought from his head. You were his best friend's sister's best friend (as confusing as that sounded).

Although he knew it was technically fine, you were the same age as Charlotte, 23, something about pursuing you felt wrong. What if it didn't work out? Things would be awkward, right? But then if it did work out, who would care? Tom cursed the part of his brain that was pushing him to be selfish. You could have a boyfriend for all he knew.

Everyone took their seats and you quietly sat next to Tom and Charlotte. Tom's heart was racing again as it always did in your presence.

"Hey." Tom said and you offered a small smile in response, almost as though you didn't trust your voice. Tom realised that for someone like you, sitting next to someone who was famous might be nerve racking.

"He doesn't bite." He heard Charlotte whisper to you and you swallowed thickly before turning your attention to him.

"Hi." You said and although it was quiet, he heard it loud and clear and your voice sounded beautiful to him.

"I don't think we've ever actually had a proper conversation. Tom." He spoke confidently despite the hammering in his chest, he wondered how no one else could hear it.

"Y/N." You said as you smiled at him. He realised he just needed to get you to relax in order to have a conversation with you.

You made small talk for a while as you slowly came out of your shell, not too much but enough to carry a conversation and Tom felt himself growing more of a need to get to know you.

"So what is it you do?" Tom asked.

"I'm a nurse." You spoke confidently and the answer honestly shocked Tom, he was not expecting that.

"Wow," he couldn't help himself saying. "So how did you meet Charlotte?" He continued the conversation.

"We're neighbours. A few conversations here and there and now we're best friends." You smiled, Tom found himself wanting to ask you every question under the sun, he wanted to get to know everything about you.

**

The dinner had gone really well but thoughts of you would not leave Tom for the life of him. He wanted you to open up completely to him, he didn't want you to feel shy in any respect when it came to him.

"Something on your mind?" Haz laughed as he waved a hand in front of your face.

"More like someone." Tuwaine laughed as Tom shot him a glare, Tuwaine raising his hands in defence.

"Who? Do tell." Harrison asked.

"No one, Tuwaine's just being a dick." Tom said as he laughed.

"Oi." Tuwaine shouted as he reached across to punch his best friend in the arm. "Less of that." He added and Tom laughed.

Harrison left the room at some point and Tom glared at Tuwaine.

"What?"

"Don't do that!" Tom groaned. "He'd kick my fucking arse." Tom added and Tuwaine looked at him in confusion.

"Why would he do that?"

"Because, she's his sister's best friend." Tom grumbled.

"And?" Tuwaine couldn't see the problem, he doesn't understand why Tom hasn't just asked you out.

"What if it didn't work out? What if things got awkward between us all." Tom said as he ran his hands over his face before pulling on his hair.

"Do you like her?" Tuwaine asked.

"I don't really know her that well." Tom sighed, hoping to get Tuwaine off his back.

"When we were at that dinner it was no one else was there. You hardly spoke to anyone else once she'd shown up. I think you do." He teased.

"T," Tom sighed, "I can't okay? Can we just leave it at that?" Tom grumbled and Tuwaine shrugged his shoulders before carrying on what he was doing.

**

Tom felt guilty at times he really did but being in your bed, stroking your face as you slept made it all seem worth it. At some point something changed, you ended up spending time together away from everyone else, you opening up to him completely.

"Let me walk you home." Tom said as he spoke to you on your break at work.

"Tom, I'm fine. I live like five minutes away from my house. It seems ridiculous for you to walk here when you'd literally have to walk past my house." You laughed on the other end of the line and his chest filled with warmth, he was happy you'd finally opened up.

"I just wanna make sure you get home safe. I'll drive instead of walk." He offered.

"What would Charlotte think if she saw your car dropping me off?" You teased and Tom felt guilt fill his chest before he pushed it away.

"I'll walk." Tom settled on.

"Such a gentleman."

"Just wanna make sure you're safe." He reiterated. He did but he also wanted to spend time with you.

**

"I don't get it! You disappear, practically become untraceable for weeks and you show up on my doorstep at half three in the morning." You shouted at him, he'd tried so hard to stay away from you but he couldn't, you were on his mind too much.

"I just wanted to see you. I thought we were friends?" Tom fired back, he was frustrated, not with you but with himself.

"Friends don't just appear on your doorstep at half three in the morning after ignoring you." You snapped back at him, he'd never seen you angry and he wondered if he'd hurt your feelings by staying away.

"That's my problem! I don't want to be your friend!" Tom practically screamed at you. He watched as your face fell and tears welled in your eyes.

"Then why'd you show up? You could've just stayed away. Are you here because you think we're obligated to be friends, because of Haz and Charlotte?" You asked, voice dripping with hurt, tone soft.

"That's not what I'm trying to say." He said as he pulled on his hair.

"Then what the fuck are you trying to say?" You yelled back, hurt tears falling from your beautiful eyes and Tom couldn't stop the next words leaving his lips as he looked at you so vulnerable.

"I'm trying to tell you that I am in love with you!" He shouted at you and you froze, looking at him.

"What?" You asked voice small. He wasn't sure whether or not it's what you wanted too hear.

"I'm in love with you." He didn't try and hide the fact that he'd said it, the whole street had probably heard by now. He was thankful Charlotte was away on holiday. "I'm in love with you and I know it complicates things, complicates everything but I can't help it." He admitted. "I've tried, fuck I've tried to get over it, that's why I stayed away but it just made me miss you more."

He was standing closer to you now, you were yet to make a sound and he feared you'd reject him. He thought you were going to when he saw your face twist in anger.

"How dare you Tom Holland." You said as you pushed his chest. "How dare you make me fall for you and then disappear off the face of the earth like I meant nothing to you."

"Y/N..."

"No Tom, it's not fair! I've been sat here for weeks wondering what I did to upset you. Turns out you stayed away because you feel the same way I do. That is fucking bullshit Tom!" You screamed at him and he swears your neighbours were going to be pissed at you now for waking them up so late.

"I know, I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you." He admitted and he watched your anger wash away as a look of pure hurt took over your features.

"But you still did." You said quietly and Tom took your hands in his, your eyes snapping to his and there was so much emotion between the two of you that he stopped thinking about anyone else. His only thoughts were on you and the fact that you loved him back, his lips met yours in a needy kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to him, your hands fisting his shirt as you tried to pull him closer to you.

It was desperate, weeks of built up tension being given in one kiss. His hand found your hair as yours continued to fist his shirt. His heart was pounding in his chest, he wanted this, wanted you and that was all he could think about. You both pulled back when you needed air.

"Don't ever do that to me again." You spoke as you rested your head on his chest.

"After that baby, I'm never letting you go again."

**

That was six months ago. Six months of sneaking around and pretending you weren't in love with one another. Tom was finding it increasingly difficult, he wanted to show you off to the world, he was so in love with you yet he couldn't hold your hand in public or even in the private settings that involved his friends and it was eating away at him.

"Can't sleep?" You pulled him from his thoughts as your eyes flickered open, Tom looked at the clock, it was two thirty in the morning.

"Just had a lot on my mind." He said as he moved stray strands of hair from your face.

"Wanna talk about it?" You asked, concern lacing your tone. He shook his head as he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"Go back to sleep." He spoke as he littered your face with sweet and ghostlike kisses.

"Hard to do when some creepy stalker is staring at you." You teased and he laughed.

"Maybe if someone," he bumped his nose with his own, "didn't look so pretty all the time, I wouldn't stare." He said.

"Stalker." You laughed teasingly as you turned onto your side. Tom wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your shoulder, eventually finding comfort in your soft snores as he let sleep pull him under.

**

"Right, what the fuck is going on?" Charlotte suddenly said and Tom snapped his gaze to the woman, confusion on his features.

"What?" He asked as she eyed you both carefully.

"The looks. You look at her like she's the only person here." Charlotte said and you bit your lip as you looked at your lap.

"Nothing." Tom said.

"Actually, I wanna know what's going on as well. You barely ever sleep here anymore, where are you going?" Haz chimed in and Tom felt his palms grow sweaty.

"And you're more bothered about the times I come and go." Charlotte pointed an accusatory finger at you.

"Wait, wait, wait. Are you two fucking?" Haz asked, amused look on his face.

"Would make sense." Charlotte shrugged. Tom looked at you as you looked back at him. You were pleading with him to handle this, pleading with him to say something.

"Kind of." Tom said carefully, hoping to gauge their reactions. He watched you for your reaction and you looked as frightened as he felt about them finding out.

"What do you mean kind of?" Charlotte laughed.

"He means," he was shocked as he heard your voice as you cleared your throat. "He means that yeah we're sleeping together but not just fucking." You admitted and Tom lifted his eyebrows, he wasn't expecting you to take charge on confirming your relationship.

"You mean?" Charlotte asked as her face lit up.

"Yeah." You said as you moved to sit next to Tom, taking his hand in yours as they both watched your interaction.

"I fucking knew it!" Haz screamed. "You owe me a tenner." He gloated and Charlotte huffed.

"I thought she'd have told me." Charlotte defended herself.

"Wait, you're not mad?" Tom asked.

"Mad? Why would we be mad?" Haz asked confusion written all over his features.

"Because she's your sister's best friend." Tom said as if it was obvious.

"And? If she makes you happy I don't care. Plus, it's not our business. You're both adults." Haz said and Tom laughed.

"I however am pissed. You should have told me and then I wouldn't owe him a tenner." Charlotte teased and Tom felt you relax, he followed as he pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head as Haz fake gagged.

"Now I wish we hadn't have asked, I'm gonna have to watch you all over each other."

"Haz, shut up. It's cute." Charlotte said as she watched Tom place a loving kiss to your temple before capturing your lips, watching as you both became wrapped up in each other. She couldn't help but feel happy for her best friend as she nudged Harrison slightly and gestured for them to leave the room.

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

–––––

(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog​ because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

_________

It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with.  That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box.  A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

[dl4draws]

okay so here is my little bullet point story for the httyd au lol, hope you guys like it

love amongst the dragons

this is a zuko centered au but the story actually begins with how sokka got foof

sokka and hiccup are one no one can change my mind

the swt hunts dragons because dragons hunt them, same thing as httyd

so basically the httyd storyline isn’t zuko’s story but sokka’s

he shoots foof (sprinkle of saber tooth moose lion mixed with night fury, mostly changing the size and teeth – foof would look almost exactly the same as toothless but is taller, has bigger legs, is bigger in general and well the saber tooth of course – also night furies aren’t extinct!)), not because he cant actually participate in the hunting, he’s perfectly allowed, but he creates these machines and people are like just use a spear like the rest of us lol

he shoots the saber tooth night fury down and no one believes him so he’s like “okay fuck it im gonna go find it”

he does indeed find him, foof is too cute, sokka instantly loses the battle, he doesn’t wanna fight dragons anyway

he keeps foof a secret until katara one day sees sokka sneaking away while she’s practicing water bending (the war doesn’t exist, there’s just problems in the fire nation – so the SWT is full of people)

katara is like sokka what the fuck are you doing

sokka cant lie to katara, he can charm anyone else but not katara,, sisters are charm proof

anyways events of httyd proceed to happen

sokka learns how to fly, learns stuff in general about dragons

katara is kinda like the astrid but she’s like confused at the beginning bc sokka’s getting too good at handling dragons and she’s sus

they both get good with dragons after that

until they find another dragon when they were flying around

a Very Large tm dragon

basically a water dragon, inspired by the unagi but from the south pole, it can leave the water but it prefers to live in the deep ocean

katara loves her, she starts “practicing” water bending at a special spot so one can find her, only sokka and her know where it is since they found it while flying

blah blah blah the swt proceeds to have a happy ending and everyone gets a dragon

the swt starts a life with dragons this time and they believe they are the only ones doing this (aside from the air nomads) (there is no war so aang is born 100 years later)

BACK TO ZUZU

Crown prince zuko and soon to be chief of the swt sokka are penpals, they’ve met eachother once or twice, sokka never tells him about the dragons

The fire nation has few dragons left

The fn is the birthplace of all dragons, but they have very little dragons now, they hunt them for fun

It is a ritual for the crown prince to kill a dragon and bring to the palace its heart

ozai is aware that there’s only one dragon left in their territory and the last dragon nest is weeks away

he sends zuko anyway and zuko goes, but he really doesn’t want to kill a dragon

he finds one, he goes through all that same stuff sokka (hiccup) went through with “he looked just as scared as I was” so he lets the dragon free, the dragon isn’t hurt so he can fly away but he doesn’t

he knows zuko won’t do anything to harm him so he stays with him

zuko doesn’t know wtf to do so he does what he knows always sets him in the right direction

he writes sokka a letter and tells him exactly what happens, about the dragon (his name is druk obviously) and how he doesn’t have any idea about what to do, he hopes sokka can reply as soon as possible and if he has time he can come to the fn and help him, he’s an engineer right? He can help him build stuff for druk, right??

He sends the hawk with the letter, knowing it’ll reach sokka in about week, since he’s farther south right now, so he expects sokka’s answer in two weeks

He most definitely is not expecting sokka to get there a week later riding a dragon the color of the night sky, you’d think the dragon was black if it wasn’t standing under the sunlight

Zuko hasn’t seen sokka in a few years, so he’s not exactly the same as he was back when they were still 19 (they’re 21 and 22 now)

Sokka isn’t expecting to see zuko with a supposedly extinct dragon when he gets there tho

He’s fascinated by druk (also zuko looks very pretty)

Sokka teaches zuko everything he knows about dragons, how to fly them, how to treat them, everything (they’re like little dates but they don’t mention that, they’re buddies tm)

Zuko comes back to the fn and he finds out that ozai is planning to wipe out the last nest, so zuko tries to stop him

And ozai lashes out so druk appears to protect him, and ozai is like oh bitch you’ve done it now and his little army is about to attack both zuko and druk when sokka and foof (both were hiding there in the palace) do a sneak attack and get them both out

Azula sees all of this from the shadows (this is important)

Zuko and sokka grab some stuff and leave the fn

They fly to the swt, zuko’s nervous about ozai’s plan but sokka knows that once they get home and set up a plan he’ll be okay

Once zuko lays eyes on the swt he goes holy fucking agni and sokka laughs so hard he almost falls off foof

The swt is built to house dragons and such, it really is a sight to see

They make a plan and basically go all out, the swt and the air nomads are good buddies, so aang is there with his cloud jumper (appa!!!!! Flying bisons exist but they’re like very important to the air nomads and people don’t ride them, they just vibe)

Aang is the avatar, so he has a deep connection with alpha dragons (the bewilderbeast)

They all make a plan, and they start flying to the fn, katara takes her big ass unagi like dragon, but she goes underwater with aang following her from the skies (they’re trying to find an alpha to ask for help)

They get to the nest before the troops, and stand their ground

It seems like they’re about to lose when katara appears with her dragon, the cloud jumper and aang in the avatar state on top of an alpha

The battle ends quickly after that and zuko and sokka are like !!! we did it and they share a sweet little kiss bc I say so (currently listening to coming back around and it’s making me emotional)

Azula appears after all this in sokka’s room (he’s staying at the fn palace for a bit to help the fn get adjusted to the new dragon rules) sokka hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to azula much, but he knows she isn’t opposed to dragons (or that is what it looks like)

His answer comes in the form of azula actually asking him for help, because she’s been hiding two dragon eggs for about two years

Sokka’s like!!!!!!!!!! Yes I can help!!!

She takes him to the eggs and he realizes that he hasn’t seen those types of eggs before but the coloring of the egg indicates that they are fire nation born dragons (they’re bright orange at the top and dark red at the bottom)

He asks if she found them near a volcano and azula’s like, hm yes but are you aware this palace is IN a volcano, and sokka’s like oh yeah right, and he tells her those are most likely dragons that live inside volcanoes and they like extremely hot temperatures so she should keep them near lava or with constant heat

Azula takes note of everything, and she starts going to sokka if she needs advice with her dragon eggs

Azula: how long until they hatch? Sokka: you gotta wait, depending on the dragon they can take from 2 to 5 years to hatch Azula: hm okay

Time passes, zukka dancing and singing to the dancing and the dreaming is all I need in life (will draw tomorrow)

Anyways yes sokka and zuko start living their best life riding their dragons under the moonlight and early in the mornings watching the sunset from between the clouds the end <3

[woah-were-halfway-there]

Our Last Summer - B. Boeser

A/N: just a girl who thought she’d try writing for a different player. Shocking, I know. Also this is an OC and I love her, enjoy!

Yes, after the ABBA song. Also shoutout to my least favourite Taurus @brockadoodles for convincing me to follow through with writing and posting this and being an A+ beta reader always.

Word Count: 9.2k

To Brock, summer was the best time of year. As much as he loved hockey season, summer gave him the chance to unwind, relax and spend time with his friends and family. It also allowed him to be at one of his favourite places all the time, the lake. 

The lake was a sanctuary of sorts for him, his little piece of paradise. Even before he moved to Vancouver, he spent every summer there, which is why he ended up buying a home on that lake to spend his off-seasons in. It also happened to be where he got to see Lennon—the only place. 

Brock and Lennon first met almost ten years ago. Right away, Brock could tell that she wasn't from the area based on her lack of a so-called Minnesotan accent but eventually learned how her family started vacationing on the lake the same year they were both turning fourteen. 

Lennon's family has been back every year since. How she and Brock first crossed paths was on the beach one fateful afternoon at the end of June. Brock was standing in line behind her, waiting to buy a bottle of water while she ordered ice cream from the man operating the little stand. Once Lennon was handed her snack, she turned around and went to walk away but didn't realize Brock was standing right there and ended up knocking into him, which resulted in her ice cream spilling down the front of the t-shirt he wore. She quickly grabbed some napkins and tried to clean up the mess she made all over him, but he just laughed it off and told her it was fine. 

The two of them parted ways after that, not thinking much of the interaction and didn't cross paths again until the following summer. When they did meet again, it was on that same beach, at the same ice cream stand, but Lennon didn't spill anything that time. Instead, the pair just stared at each other as they were both hit by the most intense wave of deja vu either of them had ever experienced. After that initial shock, they talked and properly introduced themselves because what were the chances they'd run into each other again. After commenting on how he assumed Lennon wasn't from there, Brock learned that she only came to Minnesota in the summertime with her parents and twin brother because her dad was from there and her parents owned a lake house they wanted to retire to one day. It was one of Lennon's favourite places to be and had her looking forward to summer every year because of it. 

That summer, Brock and Lennon saw each other on multiple occasions after the run-in on the beach, and a friendship gradually began. That friendship only grew with each summer that passed as Brock's friends became Lennon's friends too after being invited to hang out with them as they went boating, jet skiing, exploring and had bonfires each night. These activities made Lennon's summers even more memorable than before. 

However, as they got older, things began to change. 

The summer before Lennon turned 19 was the last summer she spent entirely at the lake for a few years. Brock had already turned 19 that February, and Lennon would be doing the same in early November. However, that fall, she began going to university and spent the summers working. Lennon didn't get as much time off but still managed to squeeze in at least two weeks at the lake to spend with her family, friends, and, of course, Brock. 

Four years later, once Lennon graduated from her bachelor's program, she returned to the lake for the whole summer. Lennon also mainly spent that summer with Brock as he sat with her for hours while she applied to various jobs in her field and did phone interviews with possible employers. It was odd for him, though, because it wasn't until then, Brock realized how even though he felt like he knew Lennon very well, he hardly knew anything about her life outside of the lake. Sure, he knew that she took English and Literature at university, but he didn't know what school she attended. He also didn't know where her family lived the rest of the year. Brock only knew Lennon and summer. 

There was a massive disconnect between the two of them when they weren't in their little summer bubble. Brock and Lennon didn't speak when they weren't at the lake. They had each other's phone numbers, but the thought of using it while he was in Vancouver felt foreign, and although Lennon did cross his mind, he knew the two of them would pick up where they left off like they did every summer once both of them returned to the lake. 

That's what happened last summer too. Brock and Lennon were reunited on her first day back and spent almost every day together, seeing as it had been four years since the last full summer she spent in Minnesota. It was a summer to remember for sure. They somehow became even closer, which naturally led to them feeling a sense of dread as the days became shorter and summer gradually came to an end. 

But, everything became ruined when Brock and Lennon slept together on her last night at the lake. Then Brock woke up to a cold and empty space next to where he laid in his bed the morning after. 

The piece of him that Brock didn't realize Lennon had a hold on broke that morning. She left him feeling hurt and confused. He texted her, but she didn't reply. Then when he took his jet ski out on the water and rode by her family's house, only to see it completely dark and no cars in the driveway, he knew summer was officially over and that he wouldn't hear from her again. 

That is why he was looking forward to this summer. There was no guarantee he'd be seeing Lennon. He didn't know what had gone in her life over the past ten months but was sure he'd get filled in on it once he saw her family, but he had this unexplainable feeling that she was going to be there, and that was enough to get him nervous. However, Brock was still excited even with those nerves because his summer just wasn't complete without Lennon in it. Regardless of how the two felt towards each other.  

Brock's first day back consisted of getting everything ready, and the house opened up for the season. With his roommates and family's help, the boat was launched into the water and docked, so were the jet skis, and everything just slowly fell into place. The only thing missing was Lennon.

However, he tried not to think of things like that. He was convinced he'd get some closure about what happened between the two of them last summer, but when he casually brought her up in conversation, no one knew if she was back or not. Lennon's family was at the lake, everyone knew that much, but no one had seen her yet, which made Brock feel a little less hopeful. 

Once everything at the house was finished getting ready, all of his company stayed for dinner but then headed back to their own homes, his roommates included. They'd be back on the weekend and be staying there for good afterwards, but for the next few days, it would just be Brock and his dogs, which was fine by him.  

After everyone left, Brock headed out to the back yard, letting Milo and Coolie run around for a bit before going back inside for the night. The sun was setting, leaving warm pink and orange trails of light chasing after it while slowly disappearing in the distance. A few boats still drove around on the water, finishing up their rounds before it got too dark. Brock could also hear chatter from somewhere nearby where he assumed people were outside having a bonfire or just socializing as they enjoyed what was bound to be a beautiful evening. 

Brock then wandered to the edge of his dock and sat down, letting his legs hang off the side then swaying them slightly as he continued taking it all in. Not too long after, Coolie joined him as he took up the spot next to him and rested his head on Brock's lap while looking out at the water as well. Meanwhile, Milo continued wading in the water, ready to attack any fish that dared come near him. 

About ten minutes later, after Milo had gone up onto the dock as well, Brock spotted a boat heading towards him. As the boat got closer to shore, he could hear the familiar voice of Wesley Schultz as a song by The Lumineers played and watched as the boat slowed down then took a wide right turn before coming to a stop about 20 feet from the edge of his dock. Confused, Brock looked around for someone else because surely whoever was on the boat wasn't stopping to talk to him. But then he remembered that he was at his own house and that there was no other explanation for what was going on. 

"Hey!" A voice greeted over the music, then a man, who Brock assumed was around the same age as him, came into view. He had dark brown hair that wasn't quite as long as Brock's but still long enough to noticeably be pushed back away from his face with a pair of sunglasses and wore only a pair of green swim trunks and an unzipped white sweater. "So you're the person who lives here. I'm Max. My family just bought a house around the bend over there. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, cool!" Brock responded, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized the guy was just being friendly. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Brock. I live here with a few friends, but it's just me here right now. I'm sure you'll see the others around soon. Have you been to the lake before?"

"No, this is my first summer here," Max explained and smiled. "But, I know someone who's been coming here for a while and told me all about it. I must say, it's living up to its hype."

"Your friend sounds like they know what they're talking about," Brock chuckled, then heard a voice say something from where they must've been sitting out of sight on the boat. But what really surprised him the way Coolie perked up at the voice and caused a low whine to leave his mouth. 

"Yeah, I'd say she does," Max replied, then leaned to the side and looked down into the boat's cabin. "She's right here actually, said it was too cold then went inside—Babe, wanna come say hi to my new neighbour? Maybe the two of you know each other."

The thought of how Brock might know the other person on the boat made sense, he knew the area so well and had met lots of people over the years, but that still didn't prepare him for the way he felt once Lennon stepped into view. 

"Lemon?" 

Brock's nickname for her fell from lips so quickly as he took her in, he didn't even have to think about it. Lennon's deep brown hair was longer than it was the last time Brock had seen her, that much he could tell even in the messy fishtail braid she had it in. Usually, Lennon liked to cut her hair going into the summer because she always complained about how hot it made her feel whenever it was down and not being held back with the hair tie that usually resided on her wrist. 

He then took in the rest of her appearance. She wore bright yellow crocs, a pair of white terry cloth shorts and a baggy pullover that had Minnesota written in a large yellow font across it as well. Brock recognized the sweater because it belonged to him until the last night of the previous summer. 

It was a simple look, but to Brock, Lennon still seemed stunning in the evening glow surrounding her. 

That was when Coolie stood up and barked, snapping Brock out of the trance he'd fallen into upon seeing Lennon again. Coolie recognized her. That much was evident with how he whined and started wagging his tail just at the sight of her, Milo joining in soon after. 

"Hi Coolie, hi Milo," Lennon spoke softly and smiled at the two dogs, making Brock feel as if he walked into a brick wall just by hearing her voice again. 

"Oh, you two do know each other!" Max exclaimed, snapping Brock back to reality once again. 

Then Lennon looked Brock in the eyes for the first time, and her smile fell slightly. 

"I guess you could say that," she stated, not breaking eye contact. "Hey, Brock."

"H-hey," was all he could reply with, still recovering from the initial shock of how Lennon, the person he spent the last ten months thinking about, was finally standing in front of him again, but with another guy. "You're back."

"Yeah, I am," she nodded, then looked back at Max. "We should probably get going, though. It's getting dark."

"You're right," Max agreed. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Brock. Have a good night."

"Uh, yeah, you too," Brock responded, whispering almost as he observed Max start the boat back up and begin driving off. 

He watched the two of them go, refusing to take his eyes off of Lennon, which was how he didn't miss the way she looked back at him too or how she didn't look away until the boat rounded the bend and disappeared out of sight yet again. 

~*~

About a week went by before Brock saw Lennon again, and he hated it. He saw her family, who all asked when he'd be stopping by again. But Brock didn't know how to explain that he and Lennon had barely spoken or the reason behind it all. It then got worse when his parents came over that weekend and told him how they ran into her while they were at the store and that she seemed to be doing well.

It sucked for him because all he wanted to do was talk, but he knew Lennon. And he knew that if she wanted to talk, she would. However, it was clear that she didn't, so Brock didn't push her into talking with him regardless of how badly he wanted to. 

The thought of just messaging Lennon and asking her to come over crossed his mind many times that week, but he couldn't bring himself to send the text he typed out and would end up deleting it instead. His summer was already off to a very different start than he was hoping for. 

One day, while he was out boating with some of his friends, things started to change again. 

After being out on the water for most of the day, Brock and his friends all decided to dock the boat at the marina near, of course, the beach that Brock couldn't step foot on without thinking about Lennon. Once he saw that beach, he was reminded of how much time he and Lennon spent there together over the years since first meeting. Brock would've been lying if he said he didn't want to run into her again on that same beach, but he tried not to get his hopes up. 

However, to his luck, Lennon was walking along the dock at the marina the same time Brock was hopping off the boat to help tie it up. Brock spotted her first, but she was busy scrolling through her phone, her eyebrows furrowed with an unreadable expression on her face as she did so, and she didn't notice Brock or the others as she continued walking towards them, but then came to an abrupt stop. 

Whatever Lennon was looking at on her phone seemed important, and Brock didn't want to interrupt, but then one of his friends, who also knew Lennon, spotted her. 

"Lenny!" Sam exclaimed as he brushed past Brock, making Lennon jump, but still, smile once she saw who was approaching her and accepted the hug she was about to be pulled into. "You're back!"

"Lennon's here?" Someone else asked, and soon enough, everyone who Brock was with rushed by him to see their friend. 

"Hey, guys!" She greeted happily, a much different mood than how her reunion with Brock was a week prior. 

"Are you here all summer?" 

"I am," Lennon confirmed, still smiling. 

"That's awesome," said Claire, Sam's girlfriend. "We've been waiting to see when you'd get here. We missed you! Is Mick here too?"

"Yeah, he is," Lennon responded, letting the group know that her brother had returned to the lake as well. "He's at the house right now helping my dad get the new barbecue set up. I was sent here to pick up things to get grilled tonight."

She then held up the plastic bag she was carrying for emphasis, earning chuckles from the rest of the group. 

"Well, we won't keep you then," stated one of Brock's roommates. "But come over to the house soon, and we'll all hang out."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you guys later!"

Everyone said goodbye to Lennon, then continued on their way, but Brock stayed back. She still hadn't noticed him, and he didn't want her to feel cornered by him, especially around their friends, but he needed to talk to her. Just the two of them.

He observed her as she watched their friends walk down the dock, taking in the jean shorts and mint green tank top she wore, then cleared his throat, making Lennon snap her attention in his direction and not missing the way her eyes widened as she did so. 

"Hey, Lemon," he greeted her and felt an instant wave of relief wash over him while he saw her expression soften as he said that. 

"You're never going to drop that nickname, are you?" She asked while shaking her head and smiling.

Brock pursed his lips and looked away from her as if he was deeply considering her question but couldn't help the small laugh that left his mouth as he did. 

"No, I don't think I can."

"Right. Whatever you say, Broccoli."

At that, Brock's grin grew much wider. Hearing Lennon call him the nickname she's always said in response to him calling her, Lemon, hit differently this time because, although he knew things weren't normal between them, it almost seemed like it was. But, it was short-lived because his nagging thoughts about the girl standing in front of him started creeping back, making his smile falter a little bit. 

"Brock?" Lennon asked, noticing how he was getting too deep in his thoughts. Something she knew he did often. "You ok?"

"Yeah," he replied and shook his head slightly. "I was just thinking. Um, listen, can we talk? You know, about… everything?"

Lennon let out a sigh, knowing this conversation needed to happen between the two of them, but still not sure if she was ready to have it just yet. "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither, to be honest. But maybe we can start with what happened last summer and how you're seeing someone else now?"

"Brock, me and you aren't in a relationship. You can’t corner me like that. I don't owe you an explanation."

"Lennon, that's not fair and you know that’s not what I’m doing," he stated. "I'm not saying you have to explain yourself. That's your business, whether I like it or not. But, I would like to know where we stand because I have thought about you every day for the past ten months and seeing you on that boat last week sucked. I was caught off guard, but that doesn't matter. I just miss my friend and don't want this summer to be weird because we slept together when clearly it didn't mean anything."

Once Brock finished his spiel, Lennon took a shaky breath then let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing he had a point. 

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly. "You're right, it's not fair, and I'm also sorry for just leaving you last year. But Brock, I don't know what to tell you right now because I know it's not going to be what you want to hear."

"The least you could do, as my friend, is tell me why. Why did you leave and act as though nothing happened between us and avoid me completely?"

"I panicked, ok!"

"About what?" Brock questioned, feeling even more lost than before. "Len, what are you talking about?"

“Because Brock, before we slept together, it was just you and the lake,” she explained. “It was easy. It was like we lived separate lives, and that worked until they crossed paths again in the summertime. Maybe having sex messed that up, but I don’t want it to. I want things back to the way they were.”

“Why do we have to live separate lives outside of the lake? You’re one of my best friends. I would love to share all of my life with you. But I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Why now, though? Why didn’t you want me to be part of your life or know more about mine away from here before last summer?”

“I never said I didn’t!” He stated firmly and stressfully pushed his hand through his hair. “That’s just always been how we worked. How can you expect me to know that was something you wanted when you didn’t express it either, Lennon? But I will say this; I care about you. I have feelings for you, alright? If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay over on that night last summer. That all seems pretty irrelevant now, though.”

"I-," Lennon started but had to stop as a voice cut her off. 

"There she is," Max said as he and another guy that Brock didn't recognize approached them. "And Brock! Good to see you again."

"Uh, yeah," Brock replied hesitantly, suddenly not knowing what to say as he watched Max casually walk up and wrap his arm around Lennon's waist. "You too."

"Did we interrupt something?" Max asked while glancing at the other guy he was with, then moved his gaze between Brock and Lennon. 

"No," Brock spoke and looked Lennon dead in the eye. "I guess we're done talking. I'll see you guys around."

"Brock, wait," Lennon said and pulled away from Max as Brock walked past them. 

"Just like you, I don’t know what else to say, Lennon. Say hi to your family for me."

And with that, Lennon was left watching Brock leave her behind this time.

Later that evening, Brock was at home with his roommates, putting some plates into the dishwasher after they were all finished eating when Milo and Coolie started barking like crazy. He wasn't sure what was going on and looked at the rest of the guys, who all shrugged in response, then went over to the glass sliding door the dogs were standing in front of and saw what had them acting the way they were. 

Outside he saw a woman hopping off a jetski, then watched as she pulled it up to the small shore that met his property. Once she was sure the jetski was beached enough and took off her lifejacket, she walked up the slope that led to the rest of the lawn, then walked across the grass onto the dock before sitting down at the edge of it and facing the water like she owned the place. It didn't take long for Brock to realize the girl was Lennon. 

He then looked back at his roommates, all of who were watching him intently, almost as if they knew this was coming, but they all quickly looked away and pretended to be busy looking at something else. Brock rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of a response, so instead, he stayed silent and opened the door so he could step outside. 

Milo and Coolie continued barking as Brock slipped by them but didn't let them outside with him. He knew that Lennon wouldn't have just shown up unannounced after the talk they had earlier that day unless she really needed to get something off her chest, and Brock wanted to hear what she had to say without any interruption. 

Lennon didn't look back as he walked across the grass and onto the dock. It was like she knew he'd join her regardless of how rough things may have seemed between them. And she would've been right for assuming that. As much as Brock wanted to be mad at Lennon, it still seemed like magnets pulled him towards her, and it just wasn't possible for him to fight. 

Brock didn't say anything as he sat down next to his friend, just joined her in silence while they both looked out over the water and observed the sun as it began its descent in the late evening sky, but he couldn't keep himself from observing Lennon out of the corner of his eye and taking in how she looked. 

Her hair wasn't tied back or anything. It just fell down her back in loose natural waves that shifted ever so slightly whenever there was a breeze. She wore a faded red Beatles pullover, which was somewhat ironic seeing as she was named after one of the band's members, making Brock smile because that was just a very Lennon thing to do. The sweater was paired with some jean shorts and Nike slides, but what caught his attention the most was her eyes. Lennon had light brown eyes that Brock thought were stunning all the time, but when the sun hit them just right, like it did in that moment, they seemed golden almost, and it was so hard to look away. He's always loved her eyes. 

However, his moment of observing her in silence was cut short when she let out a sigh and then glanced towards him. 

"New York," Lennon stated, earning herself a confused look from Brock. 

"New York?" He asked, genuinely unsure of what she was implying. "Lennon-."

"That's where I'm from," she elaborated, then looked from him to the water again. "Upstate New York, to be exact, near the Buffalo area. My birthday is November 2nd. I was actually born in Minneapolis, but my parents moved when me and Mick were about ten months old for work and I hadn’t been back until they bought the lake house. Uh, when my parents found out my mom was pregnant, they thought they were expecting twin boys at first. They wanted to name me John after the Beatles still and then Michael after Mick Jagger, but when I came out a girl, they had to improvise."

Brock was speechless. He was so shocked. Lennon was telling him everything that he's always wondered about her and then some. He was intrigued, and there was no way he would stop her from sharing whatever she wanted to say.

"As you know, I took English and Literature in university," she continued. "I took that program at NYU and have been living in New York City for the past five years because of it. I have a freelancing job, which has been paying the bills. I've also spent the last month and a half applying to various master's programs at different schools, and it's been pretty discouraging if I'm completely honest. Since moving to NYC, I've made many trips to Toronto to visit Mick, seeing as that's where he went to school, but coming back to the lake each summer remains my favourite place to be, and you are a huge part of why Brock."

"Lemon, I didn't know any of this," he replied, shaking his head as he still processed everything she said. 

"I know, that's why I'm telling you."

"Wow, I, I don't even know what to say. I've always wondered these things about you, but other than seeing you here; you've always been like a blank slate to me. I've known you for so long now, but I've never known so much about you. I just figured you never really wanted me to be part of your life outside of summer, y'know?"

"Yeah, about that," Lennon started and let out a small laugh. "That is so incorrect. You don't even know."

"What do you mean?" Brock questioned, feeling puzzled by her again.

"My friends in New York are huge into sports," she explained. "I can't even begin to explain how many times I've been dragged to a Yankees or Knicks game, but when it comes to the Rangers, I always look forward to it a bit more. They're not my team, I've got to give props to the Sabres for the hometown representation, and because of Mick, I started not entirely hating the Leafs. What always surprises my friends, though, is how adamant I get about going to the Rangers games whenever Vancouver is in the city. But I haven't told them I have a friend that plays on the team. They just think it's odd that I have a Boeser jersey."

"Woah, wait a minute. You've seen me play hockey?"

"Every time you've been in New York since starting with the Canucks, yeah."

"Lennon, what the hell?" He asked disbelievingly. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Lennon just shrugged before responding. "Like I said earlier today, Brock, it's always been you and the lake. I thought about messaging you but then figured you might not want me to and chickened myself out, so I never did. I don't know why I didn't just reach out, but now you know. So, please, never assume that I don't think about you when I'm not here. Because I do, all the damn time. And what happened between us last summer did mean something to me. You are way too important for it to not. I could never consider you as just a random hookup, Broccoli."

Brock could feel his heart swell an insane amount as she said that, but before he could say what he really wanted to in response, he needed to know something still. 

"What about Max?"

"Max is not my boyfriend," she stated, not missing a beat. "He's one of my best friends from school, yeah, but we are not together. He's from Minneapolis, which was how we actually bonded when we first met after telling him my dad was from this area. And let me tell you, I've told him if I'm still single by 40, we're getting married, but I don't think that'll be happening. He's very happy with his boyfriend, Connor, who was on the dock with us earlier, and I would've happily introduced you to if you hadn't stormed away before I got the chance."

"For fucks sake," Brock said, not being able to stop himself from grinning at how stupidly he overreacted. "I am so bad for jumping to conclusions, aren't I?"

"You always have been."

They laughed together as Lennon nudged him with her shoulder teasingly, then a comfortable silence fell amongst them again. However, it didn't last too long because Lennon was speaking again soon after. 

"I really am sorry for just leaving you last summer," she told him softly. "It's just- I knew I was going back to New York, and I figured it'd be easier if we didn't talk about what happened for both of us. I shouldn't have assumed that. It wasn't fair to you. But, I also have spent the last ten months thinking about you constantly. I like you too, Brock, more than I can explain, and I just feel stupidly vulnerable admitting that, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't have feelings for you that weren't entirely platonic. I don't expect things between us to be like they were last summer, but I missed you a whole freaking lot this past year and will be glad to have my best friend back."

"I would love nothing more than for that to happen," Brock responded and waited for her to look at him again before continuing. "Maybe we can; I don't know, take things slow? We can see what happens over the summer, what it all leads to and you know, actually talk after. I also want to know as much about you as I can, but only if you'll let me.”

"Please. And yes, I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know. I want to get to know more about you too if that's ok."

"Of course it is, I'd like that," he replied before falling silent again as his gaze dropped to her lips. Brock was overcome with the urge to close the already small space between him and Lennon by kissing her, but he didn't. Although he was pretty sure she wouldn't necessarily be opposed to him doing that, he didn't want to fuck this up by rushing into anything again. She, too, was way more than just a hookup to him and Brock wanted to make sure she knew that. "Will you stay over tonight?"

Lennon's eyes widened in surprise at Brock's question, but she quickly realized he wasn't trying to make a move. He just wanted to spend more time with her, and honestly, she loved the idea of just hanging out with him all night.

"Yes, absolutely," she stated. "I'll also never say no to Milo and Coolie snugs."

"Good, because I'm pretty sure I can still hear Coolie whining over the fact that he can't come out here and see you."

The two of them laughed, then stayed sitting together for a few more moments before Brock eventually stood and helped Lennon up, then made their way back to the house together.

~*~

Although nothing intimate happened that night between Brock and Lennon, aside from some cuddling as they both fell asleep in his bed, it set the pace for the rest of their summer. The two, once again, became inseparable. 

The next few weeks went by very quickly, and everything was great. Lennon was over at Brock’s all the time, and he made sure to go over to her family’s house and visit with them lots too. Things were normal again. There was no tension as they hung out with all their friends. Brock even got to know Max a bit better, who, to Brock, ended up being a really cool guy. It was nice for him to hear more stories about Lennon’s life outside of the lake, and Brock loved every minute of it. 

However, as good as things were with the two of them while keeping their relationship platonic, there was no denying both Brock and Lennon had intense feelings for each other. 

From an outside perspective, it was apparent how much those two cared for each other, and it was often shown in the little things. It was gestures like Brock pulling Lennon onto his lap and wrapping her up in the blanket he had with him while having a bonfire. Or the time Lennon briefly gave Brock his Minnesota sweater back for a few hours while he was over at her house because she wanted it to smell like him again. It was so obvious the two of them had a thing. And yet, nothing more happened between them. They were both afraid that it may get fucked up again, which neither wanted. Especially with how fast summer seemed to pass by. 

One Friday afternoon in late July, things hit a rough patch again. 

Brock and Lennon were at his place, hanging out on the stairs of the back deck with Milo and Coolie, when Lennon dropped the bomb about having to leave the lake in the upcoming days. 

Understandably, Brock was confused. He knew that he’d have to return to Vancouver in a few weeks to get ready for training camp and the upcoming season with the Canucks, but Brock thought he still had a few weeks left with Lennon at least. Brock took the news pretty well, but when he asked her why, feeling like he could after the talk they had on the dock over a month prior, she started shutting him out again. 

“I’m moving,” Lennon stated as she shifted away from Brock, not getting up from where she sat between his legs on the step in front of him, but enough to let his arms, which he had wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned back against him, fall to his side again. “I have to go back to New York on Monday and start packing up my apartment. My master’s program isn’t there, and I knew this was coming. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

Brock understood, he really did, but then he got thinking and became confused. 

“You never told me you got into your program, Len. That’s great,” he replied and leaned forward so he could look at her better. “Where are you moving to?”

“Oh, um, you know, nowhere spectacular. Just the west coast.”

“Nice, what school? Maybe if it’s near a city with an NHL team, we can meet up when I play there. I’d also love for you to visit me in Vancouver if you’re able to or up for it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she replied, smiling because she really liked that idea, but then it was like a switch went off in her mind, and that expression soon fell as she stood up from the stairs and turned to face him. “You know what, Brock, I have to go. I think my mom needed my help with something.”

That puzzled Brock even more. 

“I was at your house with you yesterday when your parents left for Minneapolis,” he reminded her with a small laugh. “They said they were going for the weekend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Yeah. Uh, Is everything alright? You’re acting weird all of a sudden.”

“Everything’s fine,” Lennon lied, which Brock was aware of with the way she started picking at her nails and avoiding making eye contact with him. “I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Lemon,” he started softly. “You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to block me out again.”

Lennon let out a sarcastic chuckle. 

“Why does everyone always say that? Lennon quit blocking people out. Lennon, no one will continue breaking down those walls you put up all the time… But, no one gets that it’s just easier for me that way. I feel safer. It’s nothing personal.”

Brock’s expression fell at that a bit. “I get that, I do. Sometimes it is easier that way, but it’s also very lonely. You have people in your life that aren’t going to hurt you the way you think someone could. I want to think I’m one of those people.”

“You are, Broccoli,” she assured. “You always have been. I just, I can’t help but always think of the worst possible situation when going into new things. That’s just how my mind works. And even when it comes to you, when it comes to us and whatever we are, I’m still scared because there are so many unknowns. We don’t know what will happen when I leave for New York again, and I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to dampen the rest of our time here together. This has been the best summer I’ve had in a long time, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not ruining it,” he explained. “We know we both can’t stay at the lake forever, but that doesn’t mean we can’t bring what we have here with us when we leave. Lennon, I want you in my life all year round, not just when we’re here. I wish you realized that. And now, once you leave, it’s like I know nothing all over again because you won’t let me in enough to tell me. Which honestly sucks a lot.”

Lennon just looked back at him, not caring that her eyes were on the brink of overflowing with tears as she processed what he said. Brock cared for her. Probably more than any other guy she’s ever felt this intense of feelings for, but she was still absolutely terrified of accepting that for some reason. 

“I’m sorry, Brock,” she said, then took a shaky breath as she stepped further away from him and started backing down the stairs. “I- I’m going to go, and please, don’t come after me. I promise I’ll say bye before I leave, but I just need to think.”

She then turned and rushed down the rest of the stairs without looking back. Brock immediately stood up and went to call after her, but Lennon was already rounding the corner that led to the driveway and soon disappeared out of sight. Milo and Coolie were about to go after her, but Brock stopped them as he heard a door close and the sounds of a car pulling out of the driveway. She was already gone again, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

That night, Brock went to one of the bars nearby with their group of friends for a karaoke night. Lennon was initially supposed to join him and his roommates to venture over there together, but he knew that would no longer be the case after what happened earlier. 

After Lennon left, Brock went back inside the house, and his roommates just knew something went down between them. However, when they asked, Brock didn’t want to talk about it and just kind of went to his room alone until it was time to leave later on.  

He thought going out with their friends would make him feel a bit better and at least get his mind off the situation, but Lennon’s absence was way too noticeable for him even to try to enjoy himself. Brock didn’t take part in karaoke. Instead, he sat at one of the tables nursing a seltzer that was room temperature because he just wasn’t in the mood. 

After an hour passed and Brock still hadn’t finished the drink or taken much part in the group outing whatsoever, he figured he might as well call it an early night and head home. However, before he could, someone sat down next to him and started talking to him. 

“What are you doing over here by yourself?” Asked Michael, Lennon’s twin brother, before he sipped on his beer and gave Brock a judgy look that resembled the same one he’d received from Lennon many times before. 

“Hey, Mick,” Brock greeted with a smile. “I’m just not feeling it, I guess. I think I’m going head out soon.”

“Fair enough. It seems like my sister felt the same way. What a no-show.”

Mick scoffed jokingly, then looked around at their friends. Brock let out a small laugh and shrugged in response, but then he figured that maybe he could ask about Lennon seeing as he knew her twin probably knew more than he did. 

“Speaking of your sister, do you know why she didn’t want to come out tonight?”

“I’m surprised you don’t,” Mick deadpanned. “But no, I haven’t been home. I figured she’d be here with you, actually, but I guess you never really know with her. I don’t know how you’re going to put up with living in the same place as her beyond the summer.”

“Same place as her?” Brock asked.

“Yeah, Lennon got accepted to do her master’s at UBC in Van,” Mick replied, then watched as Brock’s eyes widened in shock. “Woah, wait. She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No, didn’t mention it at all.”

“Fuck, of course not. I honestly wish I could say I was surprised, but then I’d be lying.”

Brock glanced down for a brief moment, still processing what he just told, then shook his head before responding. “Mick, I say this in the nicest way possible, but Lennon gives me fucking whiplash, I swear.”

“Join the club,” Mick laughed. “I’ve been president for almost 24 years now.”

“I just, how could she not tell me?”

At that, Mick’s expression turned a bit more serious than it was before, then he sighed. 

“I know it may not seem like it right now, but she really does care about you, Brock. More than she’ll let herself admit. You’re someone that’s important to her and has been for a very long time.”

“I wish she had a better way of showing it. Then I wouldn’t have to doubt so much.”

“I know,” Mick replied. “It’s a lot. But, let me tell you that what Lennon feels for you is very different from what she’s felt for any other guy before. My sister has been in a relationship with a fair share of people. I’m talking frat guys to Wall Street douchebags, she has had a few what could have been serious relationships, but those guys were not it for her. They betrayed her trust, belittled her for getting too in her head at times and then left her in the dust after they broke her. She’s always blamed herself for that and hated that she even bothered putting her heart out there, so it’s something she struggles with. But with you, Brock, she can be herself. I see Lennon at her happiest when we’re here, and it’s because of you. That’s not even something I have to think about because it’s always been that way. You’re her best friend, but what she feels for you is more than that and what it is, is that she’s scared to admit it. She doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you already have or risk getting hurt in doing so.”

Brock didn’t know what to say. He hung on to every single word that Mick said and took a moment for him to wrap his head around it all, but he already knew what to say. He’d known for a while.

“Mick, there is not a single part of me that would ever want to hurt her,” Brock explained. “Lennon is just such an important part of my life, and after what happened last summer, I also didn’t want to fuck up what we have. But, I really want to.”

“I know,” Mick stated. “And I trust you with her, Brock, that’s why I told you all of this. I don’t think you’ll hurt my sister, and she deserves someone like you. Now, I know you probably have more that you want to say on that topic, but why don’t you say it to her. She’s gotta be at home, and I just think the two of you need to not lie about how you feel anymore.”

As Mick said that, Brock couldn’t help but smile, then nod in agreement before standing up and grabbing his keys. “You’re right. I’m going to go talk to her. Thanks, Mick. I’ll see you around.”

“Make good choices!”

It didn’t take long for Brock to drive to Lennon’s house, but everything was dark when he got there. He thought about texting her but decided against it because he knew she wouldn’t answer. So instead, he got out of his car and listened. Sure enough, he could hear City and Colour’s The Girl playing softly from the backyard and knew she was there. 

Brock shut the car door, knowing that Lennon would hear it, then walked down the driveway on a mission. 

By the time he reached the backyard, Lennon was leaning over the railing, trying to see who it was that just got there, and Brock didn’t miss the way her eyes widened in surprise after realizing it was him.

“Brock?” She asked, then moved over to the top of the stairs as he climbed up them, still not saying anything. “What’re you-.”

Before Lennon could finish asking her question, she was cut off by Brock as he wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her towards him, not stopping until their lips met in a very firm yet delicate kiss. He took her by surprise, but Lennon reacted by closing her eyes and melting into his touch, then wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and kept him close as she deepened the kiss. 

After a moment, the two of them broke away slightly, and Brock leaned his head against her’s, smiling like crazy. 

“I wish I didn’t wait a month to do that again,” he said, making Lennon laugh.

“I’m not complaining,” she replied. “That’s definitely one way to make an entrance, though. But why do I have a feeling there’s more to why you’re here besides just wanting to kiss me?”

Brock smiled at that because she was right, but before he could respond, he needed to think about what he wanted to say first. As he did that, he noticed that she was wearing the same outfit as she was earlier, right down to the messy bun, but now she wore his Minnesota sweater again, and his smile grew at that. Although the sun had already set, Lennon’s eyes still glowed with how the fairy lights strung around the deck reflected in them and that mixed with the Dallas Green’s voice still singing in the background. It was tough for Brock not to just lean down and kiss her again. But he knew he couldn’t, not right away at least.

“You’re right,” he told her, then let out a breath and smirked as the song changed to She Will Be Loved. “There’s something else I want to talk about, something we haven’t discussed yet.”

“What’s that?”

“Come back to Vancouver with me. After you’re packed up in New York, let’s go to Van together.”

“Wait, you know that’s where I’m moving?” Lennon asked, surprised. “Mick told you, didn’t he? Brock, I didn’t tell you because I thought-.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Brock cut off her ranting and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I want you there, Lennon. I want to be with you while you’re there, as more than just your friend.”

A surprised gasp left Lennon’s mouth, but she recovered quickly by smiling and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“As long as I get to do that all the time, I’m game,” she responded after she broke away from him briefly, then let him close the space between them again. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Without even having to voice it, Lennon started leading him back towards the house, hinting at how she wanted him to stay the night, and there was no way Brock was going to say no to that.

~*~

“I had a feeling you’d have a lot of things, but I was not expecting this,” Brock huffed as he peeked out from behind a stack of moving boxes. He and Lennon were standing in the living room of her new Vancouver apartment, getting ready to unpack everything. “This is excessive.”

“Shut up, the place was unfurnished,” she grumbled in response. “What did you expect?”

“I’m just saying, this would’ve been a lot less of a hassle if you had moved in with me.”

Lennon gave her boyfriend an unimpressed look, which he responded to with a wink and a smirk before he walked towards her and pulled her into his embrace. 

It was the end of August, and Lennon was finally ready to move into her new place. After she left the lake for New York a month prior, it took her about a week to get everything packed up and organized for the move to British Columbia. Lennon already had a storage locker rented in Vancouver to keep her stuff in until she was able to start moving into her apartment and had plans to go back to the lake until her lease began on the first of September and spend the rest of the summer with Brock. However, when she, Mick and their parents landed at the Vancouver airport, he was already there waiting for them. 

He helped them get everything to the storage locker. Then, after Lennon’s family left to go back to the lake, she stayed with Brock at his condo with Milo and Coolie for about three weeks before getting the keys to her place.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think?” Lennon teased him. “What a strange thing to say to your girlfriend of what, a month?”

“I mean, I’ve also known my girlfriend for almost half my life, so does that month really make a difference?”

“Cheeky,” she responded, then stood on her tiptoes so she could peck his lips before moving away from him and over to where her phone rested on the small breakfast bar. “We can see where we’re at when this lease is up. But for now, I hope you’re ready to listen to the entire Lumineers discography as we start tackling these boxes.”

“Oh, you know it,” he told her as a matter -of- factly. “And let’s not forget about the wine in the fridge.”

“Yes, we can enjoy it once there’s room to sit down somewhere.”

Brock laughed in response and shook his head as Lennon pressed play on her phone and Sleep On The Floor started playing from her Bluetooth speaker. 

The two of them then started moving the boxes labelled ‘clothes’ to Lennon’s bedroom and started there. All of the furniture Lennon bought was set up already, so it was just a matter of putting things away and getting them organized. They got right to work, and although Brock was going to leave putting the clothes away to Lennon, so they went where she wanted, he figured he could at least unpack them so that she could just grab the items and go. Lennon grabbed a box and started unpacking it, so Brock did the same but had to pause once he opened the box closest to him and saw what was there. 

Laying on top of a pile of sweaters was the Boeser jersey Lennon told him about. Until that moment, Brock completely forgot that she had one, but it sure made him feel good seeing it for himself. A smile tugged at his lips as he lifted it from the box and set it on the bed, then glanced at Lennon to see if she saw his reaction. She was busy getting ready to hang things up in the closet, proving that she hadn’t seen him, which Brock was perfectly content with. He did, however, feel himself getting overly happy at the thought of seeing her wear the jersey that upcoming season and grinned even wider because of it. Brock had a really good feeling about them as a couple and couldn’t wait to see where things went from there.