#YEAH this has been said a millions times before hush.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 7 - Avalanche | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: With some time to spare before the finals, you return to the Hightower/Targaryen Household, a million questions on your mind | Word Count: 6.8k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: smut straight out the gate, swearing, degradation, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, marijuana use, hotboxing, oral (m receiving), face-fuccin, swallowing, toxic family relationships, implied p in v under the influence

A/N: yeah the whole hotboxing in a wendy house is actually a true story, my mum did it with my aunty when I was a kid (I wasn't there lol), so yeah thought it'd be fun to pop that in. ANYWAY feel somewhat self conscious of this chapter cos I feel like not much happens but OH WELL

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

You thought he might have been joking.

But he was playing a dangerous game.

Hotel check-out, they said, was 10:00am. Aemond has simply shrugged and hummed in agreement, not giving the receptionist the impression that he cared.

He'd made good on his promise after the match you'd won, practically dragging you to Arryk's car having made his pleasantries, pictures and casual conversations with the judges.

But after that? He was a man on a mission.

Arryk's car was deadly quiet the entire ride back to the hotel, the sun beginning to dip against the buildings by the time you got back. And some of the hotel residents had looked on with one eyebrow raised as Aemond's led you hurriedly through the foyer, still in your outfits.

As soon as the lift doors were shut, he was on you.

Hungry. Like he'd finally been allowed out of his proverbial cage, desperate for a freedom he found in having you all to himself.

He spent the majority of that evening between your thighs, basking in said freedom.

A beam was bleeding through the slits between the curtains, but the light against the warm cotton made the room feel soft and inviting. It was like the feeling of rolling around in fresh bed sheets and tired lazy mornings.

The soft slapping of Aemond's hips against yours was the only sound that managed to disturb this tranquil morning, as well as the hushed murmurs of his words against your tacky skin, and the softened tumblings of tiny moans from your lips.

You've lost track of how many times he's made you cum by now.

It's all a haze of the closest intimacy, the room smells of sex, humid from your bare bodies being pressed against each other.

" - Aemond - we have to - ah, fuck - we have to check out soon -" you manage in a breathless whisper, the air constantly being fucked out of your lungs with each desperate slam of his cock in the deepest parts of you.

You feel him, how his cockhead bullies the rough, spongy spot inside you. Unsure if you can even handle another orgasm. How Aemond is even doing this right now is beyond reason, the amount of sleep this man is running on.

Aemond grins against your ear, groaning lowly at the feeling of your nails scraping against the nape of his neck. If your previous trysts have been quickies, this time it's lazy and languid, almost thoughtful.

"You can give me one more before that" he growls, voice vibrating in his chest pressed flush against yours.

Your eyebrows furrow together, the pressure building whether you want it to or not, the way his length drags against your over-sensitive walls is too much and yet not enough. Feeling both numb and tender. Head feeling as if it's airy and empty, all you're able to think about is him and how he's making you feel.

Your body moves with the pace of his thrusts, breasts faintly bouncing alongside it, sticky from the previous rounds' half-dried spend. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, anchoring you to him, inevitably leaving marks in their wake.

He leans forward on his knees, his firm, muscular and athletic thighs, hardened from years of training, brushing against your own. The movement has his cock brushing against your cervix sensitively.

His hands, fingers long and lithe, hold your thighs and lift them higher and to your sides, widening you for him and granting himself deeper access. Your face heats up instantly being so on show, eyes glazed over with lust when you look at him.

His hair falling around his face, messily. His wide shoulders and slim waist, muscles flexing as he adjusts your position. As well as the warmth blooming in your core, it also does so in your stomach, and you briefly fear what it could mean.

You watch as Aemond keeps your legs elevated, his hips moving once more against you, his skin tapping against yours audibly with how wet you are.

You swear you've never been more aroused in your life.

The coil winds tightly inside you, watching how diligently and carefully he fucks you. As rough as the actions are, there is a softness in the way he holds your flesh in his palms.

"Come on, we don't want to be late now do we, pretty girl" he grins, lips parted to breathe with each thrust, a sheen of sweat covering his neck and chest, catching the light between his pecks.

If his movements don't finish you off, that most certainly does.

It's almost worse being in the back of Arryk's car with Aemond after all of that. Like the tension hasn't disappeared one bit. And you try to busy yourself with something else, like putting some music on or staring out the window. But nothing seems to help.

After successfully making it to the check out time, Aemond smirking the entire time he was giving his keycard back, you both faced the onslaught of reporters who hung around the entrance of the hotel where Arryk's car was parked. All wanting a glimpse and/or a word from the finalists who were warming up to each other visibly.

The flash of the cameras blinded you, and you recoiled with the appearance of several microphones shoved in your path with such personal questions, all talking over one another. 

You at least made out that they suspected there was some romance involved.

Aemond, with his tall, beanpole form, had blocked the view with his body, rounding the car to open the door for you. He didn't seem to flinch as he parted his path between the reporters to get in himself. You supposed being the prodigal son of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower will do that to someone.

Idly you scrolled through your phone, seeing the various recommended news articles about the famed finalists.

Ice Prince and Princess demolish the semi-finals with their sensual performance. Aemond Targaryen. New partner or new lover? The ice has melted with our finalist couple keeping each other warm.

That last one made you cringe and click off your phone.

Even though things were better, and he had at least apologised, you couldn't help but have more questions. Mostly around Floris? Could you really believe Larys? And did Aemond have this kind of relationship with her as well? Perhaps that had been the reason behind her 'accident'?

Part of you, the doubtful part, thought that he'd only done all this, get close to you and sweeten you up, to improve the performance. Give him a better chance at winning.

You didn't want to think about that possibility. And yet it lingered.

Instead you focussed on the final. The final. 

And against all the fucking people, it was the Martells.

Ugh.

But at least there was more time between the last match and the finals now. Time to prepare.

That meant going back to the large Targaryen House, back to 'normality'. You itched to be around other people again, as being around Aemond made your skin prickle up almost uncomfortably. Maybe it was not knowing where you stood with him.

The car zoomed past the electric gates and Helaena and Alicent were waiting outside, Helaena beaming with joy and waving and Alicent, ever graceful, hands clasped at her front, smiling fondly at the return of her son.

As soon as you got out of the car, Helaena threw her arms around you, her hair emanating her signature lavender-like scent, but as soon as she pulled back she had a knowing smirk on her face, which mildly panicked you.

Alicent made her pleasantries, hugging her abnormally tall son and guiding you both inside. Helaena grabbed your hand, following shortly behind, giving you the side-eye.

"What?" You asked her.

"Oh don't give me that. I have some questions for you later"

You didn't have time to roll your eyes before a loud, ear-splitting bark reverberated off the waxed floor, the click of claw-lined paws echoing as a large Great Dane, who was clearly on the older side, bounded happily towards Aemond, heedless of its true size, and tackled him successfully to the floor.

"Umf! Gods Vhagar" Aemond hummed annoyedly, but the smile on his face when the large dog stood on his chest and licked his face betrayed his true feelings. You'd rarely seen Aemond properly smile, so seeing the boyish excitement on his face was…a strange welcome feeling.

Aemond laid there, back flat on the wax floor, accepting his fate. The dog named Vhagar you surmised, once done with its vicious attack, looked up curiously to you, tongue and tail wagging with equal vigour. Aemond tilted his head back to look at you, amused, the dog's paws planted firmly on his pecks.

"This is Vhagar, she doesn't like gir-"

Vhagar barked and made for you, taking mercy somewhat and only jumped up to rest her paws on your chest, craning her head for pets, which you were more than happy to give, paying special attention to her neck and ears as a wide smile graced your face.

"Good girl, Vhagar" you praised, her tongue still hanging out her mouth excitedly. Aemond raised his eyebrows, shocked and happy to see that reaction, as if to say 'I stand corrected'.

"I didn't know you had a dog" you say, watching as Vhagar gallops back over to Aemond, sitting at his feet as he stands and brushes himself off, looking up to him with admiration.

"We all do. Family tradition. They've been at the kennel for a bit" he explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. At the mention of the word 'kennel', Vhagar puts her tongue away, staring with worry, as if she was horrified. Aemond hums a laugh.

Alicent claps once, gathering all your attention. She's elegant as always, long sleeved top and a black slinky skirt, her hair perfectly tied back and held with a gold accessory.

"Well! It's lunchtime, you can tell us all about the tour over some cheese and wine, yes?" She beams.

Ah yes, back to aristocratic 'reality'.

Outside, the table was set with a gorgeous spread of brightly coloured food, plates and such as well. Otto seemed not to be present, and with that, the mood was lighter, less business-like and more like a family.

That as well as the presence of another silver-haired brother, much too skinny to be Aegon.

Aemond shoved his arm around their neck playfully, dragging him up, “Baby brother, are you geriatric? Your senses are getting worse”

You and Helaena watch with amusement as the smaller silver-haired brother goes pink, stuck in the hold Aemond has him in, “The fuck is wrong with you, Aem, get off!”

“Aeg, get his legs” Aemond smirks, scooping his arms under the smaller brother’s, “Daeron, you look hot, how about a dunk?”

“No! No, Aegon, stop it!” he protests, but the oldest brother simply smirks, a cigarette hanging from between his teeth as the two shuffle over to the pond in the middle of the garden, “Don’t encourage him, Aeg, put me down!”

“Well that’s not fun then, is it?” Aegon grins,

Helaena laughs, simply watching but not helping, “Think of it as punishment for being away from us for so long!”

“That’s not fair, Hel!” he shouts as Aegon and Aemond begin to swing, chanting ‘a leg and a wing, to see the king’.

“Boys, put your brother down, the meat’s getting cold!” Alicent calls, bringing out the iced lemon water.

With a huff, they do as they’re told, Daeron landing to the floor with a thud. The youngest brushes the grass off his slacks, smiling at you as if he’s just noticed you’re here.

“Sorry, Daeron” he smiles politely, shaking your hand.

You smile, “A pleasure”

“Dig in, everyone” Alicent beams, setting down one last plate of bread rolls, “I’ll just get some cutlery”

Aegon huffs in his seat, “Look delicious, mother. Who can I thank for such a spread?”

Alicent taps the back of his head in a playful scold as she’s walking past, “Me, you cheeky little so-and-so”

You laugh as you take your own seat next to Helaena.

Without Otto here, the atmosphere is warm, everyone’s happy. A stark contrast to your first evening spent in the formal cave-like atmosphere of the dining room, feeling left-out and ostracised. 

It’s more like a family now.

Conversation flows exceptionally well, all the tension now completely fizzled out with the soft, warm afternoon sun just dipping beneath the trees, flooding their garden with an orangey glow. Aemond and Aegon badgered their youngest, Daeron, about his studies and why he went to see Aegon instead of Aemond on tour, harmlessly teasing him on having favourites.

Alicent watched her three sons with motherly joy, but mostly chatted idly with you and Helaena.

After a glass of wine, Helaena now loosened, she confided in you quietly about the tour.

"Think I'm losing it" she mused,

"Losing what?"

She looked at you, violet eyes catching the sun, "My touch. The tour was okay but we got annihilated by the fucking Stormlands of all people" she scoffed.

"Who was representing Pairs for that?"

"Cass Barath and some guy she used to go to school with. They couldn't fucking stand each other but won on technical"

Couldn't stand each other.

That sounds familiar.

Or rather sounded.

"Shame. We could've been against one another" you smile, tapping your glass with your nail.

"Gods, if we went up against you after the last performance we'd have no chance" she smirks, "I have questions for you, don't think I've forgotten"

At the idea of telling Hel your face flushes briefly, turning away to try and hide it, just as Aemond has turned to you, Daeron talking his ear off. He gives a lazy smirk, somewhat bashful, as he looks down into his lap where his hands are clasped.

The evening was so peaceful it made a pain in your heart. And you wished it was like this for them all the time.

Alicent smiled, tapping her hand on top of yours, "Congratulations, sweet girl. We're very proud of you both"

You can't help the drop in your heart when she says that.

She speaks to you like she would a daughter.

It's a warmth you've not known for some time.

And she sees the way your face is completely relaxed, like nobody had ever said that they were proud of you before. There's a sadness in her expression.

When was the last time someone said that to you?

Estranged from your own parents, you honestly can't remember.

So you swallow over the lump in your throat and nod gratefully, trying not to show how deeply her small act of kindness has affected you.

"Thank you"

She smiles reassuringly, but it doesn't quite make it to her eyes, like she knows exactly what you're thinking.

A mother's intuition is never wrong.

She pats your hand once before pulling away, "You know, you remind me so much of someone I used to know"

You cock your head, "Who?"

Alicent visibly swallows, her eyes casting back, "An old friend" she says, smiling at the memory, "she was so sure of herself, unapologetically so. And she never let other people tell her what she should think"

You laugh lightly, "She sounds more confident than me"

"You are as well" she reassures, "I remember my last match you know.

I always wore blue, for my performances. But this particular day, my father got me to wear dark green, as an…homage of sorts, to Oldtown" she recounts, "I loved that outfit"

Her face falls somewhat then.

"I still can't watch that performance. Knowing it was my last"

Your heart aches in sympathy for her.

"And I can't look at that outfit without turning sad" she says distantly, her chocolate brown eyes looking down sadly.

You, of course, know this story to some extent. Banned from competing entirely, which seemed a very harsh judgement from the committee, but a decision was made nonetheless. You remember briefly watching reruns of her performance, how happy she looked then. How absolutely natural she was.

She didn't seem like she'd aged much at all. She certainly didn't look as if she had four children all grown.

You can't help but feel as if she had to grow up quickly.

"I'm just going to go and get some napkins, darling" she says with a polite smile, as if the conversation hadn't happened, standing up and excusing herself to the kitchen.

"So!" Aegon starts, "'Ice Princess', huh?"

You give him a playful glare, "Shut up"

"What!"

"I thought it was nice" Daeron says timidly,

"Don't you start" you retort, face heating rapidly as Aemond just sits back and lets the chaos ensue, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"It was a good routine. Our grandfather wasn't much pleased" Aegon grins,

Aemond does too, "I bet he wasn't"

Helaena cocks her head, "What made you switch up the routine?"

Just as you're about to open your mouth, Aemond gets there before you do.

"I just gave her some advice in the dressing room" he grins mischievously, "looks like it worked"

Your lips slam shut at his words, a kind of dull, ache settling between your legs, reminding you of this morning, when Aemond had you in a rather precarious position. You hope to every god that exists that your face doesn't show it, as you stare him down.

He just looks impressed with himself.

You're not sure if it's the chill of the evening or the effect of Aemond that has goose bumps on your arms.

Just as Alicent comes back outside, Helaena takes your hand, standing quickly.

Thank the gods for that.

"I'm freezing, Mum. We're going to go inside"

"Alright, darling" she smiles.

You spare a look over your shoulder as she hurries you through the glass doors into the kitchen. Of course, Aemond is watching, his gaze unapologetically roaming over what you're wearing.

You don't miss Aegon's knowing smirk either, which never fails to make you roll your eyes.

"Hel, what the fuck is this?" You laugh as Hel hurries you to a secluded area near the trees.

There, nestled between two oak trees, is a tiny little wendy house, clearly purpose built, and by now definitely looking it's age, with single paned windows and fading blue paint.

"Otto had it built it for me when I was five" she uses all her possible strength to pull the door open, the wood having swollen with age and damp. It eventually gives with a squeak, dust billowing between you both, "come on"

You duck, slipping past the threshold, "You're not gonna axe murder me in here, right?"

She scoffs and pulls the swollen wood back into place, the windows rattling in the frames as she does, "If I was an axe murderer you'd be dead by now"

She produces a rather worn plastic bag, with several freshly rolled spliffs stuffed inside.

"Sorry I just assumed you did-"

"I don't often" you shrug, "but when in Rome" you smile.

She passes you one and sticks one into her mouth.

"Where did you even get these?"

She grins as she pulls out a lighter, "Aegon. He sells them"

She blows the first buff out from between her lips, tossing you the lighter, "So you stole them?"

She shrugs, "I'm his sister. I'm just borrowing them"

"Hmm" you hum as you light yours as well. 

You both pull yourself only the ledges opposite each other, knees almost touching as you draw a few breaths in, the effect of it warming your throat and chest, your head already starting to feel lighter. The smoke fills the tiny wendy house, only serving to heighten the intensity.

"Right. Spill" Hel grins.

"Gods Hel, I'm not even high yet!"

"I don't care. Spill"

You give her a look, "He's your brother"

"Yeah I don't want the nasty fucking details, just keep it vague please"

"Alright, alright" you laugh, sighing between drags, "Well…"

"When did it happen?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, "The first night at the hotel"

"The first night?!" She shouts in shock, leaning forward and mouth agape, "How-"

You can't help but laugh at her reaction. She'd obviously expected more of a romantic lead up to what occurred on that night, the memory making you squeeze your thighs together.

Helaena listens intently, asking the odd question, the effects of the drug must be getting to her as well because sometimes she asks the same one twice.

Explaining it all to someone else, it makes it all feel a bit more real, and you're eager to see how his sister, the person who knows him perhaps the closest, will react to your side of the story.

"In the dressing room??" She grimaces, "you guys are fucking disgusting. I don't think I can watch that performance the same way ever again"

You laugh, the effect of the drugs now weathering away your inhibitions.

You suppose there's no time like the present to ask an innocent question.

"Can I ask you something, Hel?" 

"I'm all ears" she responds.

Your fingernails tap against the worn out wood, nervously, "Were…Aemond and Floris…"

Helaena doesn't even let you finish.

"Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. When Floris was here he'd find any excuse to not be around her. It was quite funny really. But no, he's not really been with any girl since that fucking dinosaur"

Oh, Alys...

It's embarrassing, the relief that gives you.

"Floris just couldn't hack Aemond, she just thought he was…a cryptid weirdo. Aemond in turn just thought she was dumb and didn't care much for her skills"

"Was she not very good?"

"She'd be alright on her own, but she didn't collaborate well. Couldn't take criticism" she says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that she's trying to be as nice as possible.

"Right…"

"So, you and Aemond…you're all good now?"

You sigh, honestly not knowing the answer yourself, "I think so?"

"You mean…you don't know?" she snorts, "surely if you two are smashing you're all good"

"Not really. I catch myself half-thinking about what he said, what I said, what's happened-"

"Yes, but Aemond's apologised, you said" Hel reasons, the small stream of smoke blooming from her spliff.

A warmth of embarrassment blooms in your chest.

"Yes but…I haven't"

Hel cocks her head, "What do you-"

Light floods the Wendy house as the door swings open, both of you squinting your eyes shut, having to somewhat sober up as the smoke is sucked out. Aemond grabs the doorframe, showing just how comically small the Wendy house is compared to him, and sticks his head in, crinkling his nose.

"Using your Wendy house to hotbox again?" 

"Yeah until you came to ruin it!" Hel says.

Aemond laughs lowly, sparing a glance at you and plucking the spliff from your fingers to take a drag of his own before returning it. The act, weirdly, has your skin burning where he'd touched.

Hel pushes off the ledge, brushing past her brother, stubbing out her spliff on the side of the doorway, "I'll leave you two"

You look at her in shock as she crosses the greenery, watching as she passes you a smug grin over her shoulder, knowing full well she's leaving you alone with Aemond to torture you.

Aemond barely manages to fit inside the Wendy house with his height as he occupies the spot where Helaena was.

"What were you girls talking about?" He asks, his arms leaning against the ledge. He's wearing his usual, entirely black get up, something so unapologetically Aemond that you don't even question it. But the way his arms look in the short sleeved shirt never fails to send flutters in your belly.

So you just laugh anxiously and stub the spliff out.

"Just girly stuff"

He raises an eyebrow, "girly stuff?" He asks, pushing the hair back over the top of his head with his fingers.

Fuck. Him. For being so attractive.

Your mind whirs uncomfortably, confronted with him. If you don't say anything, who knows is Hel might.

"About you and Floris"

"Ah" he says, smiling, "is someone jealous?"

"No"

He presses his lips together like he doesn't believe you.

"In any case, if you were, there's nothing to be jealous about, princess"

You roll your eyes at the nickname.

You bite your lip, "and about how it's come to this. You and me" you start, "Hel and every other person in Westeros by the sounds of it"

He huffs a laugh, "Yeah I've seen the news articles"

Your mind swirls, his presence coupled by the effect of the drug have made everything feel like it's been turned up to 100. The warmth inside the Wendy house now that the doors closed, your knees nudging against each other, his broad form, almost encompassing every square foot.

It's here you realise he's not taken his gaze off you. Possibly feeling the same way himself.

"What?" You ask with a drowsy smile.

He shakes his head.

"Nothing" he answers, suddenly looking anywhere but at you. You swear you see a blush on his face.

The smoking has made you more aloof, so you step forward, running your hand up the inside of his arm, almost pressed flush with him.

"C'mon tell me" you insist, smiling mischievously, "I could practically hear you thinking"

He turns his head, sighing, but not really annoyed. He's quiet for a moment, like he's considering something, like he wants to say something. But all thoughts are sapped from you when his palm cups your face, his thumb runs across your bottom lip, barely applying pressure.

It's his fixed look that holds you though, his reverent gaze at your lips, flitting to your eyes that glimmer with a sort of drunken haze.

It almost sobers you up entirely.

You wonder what he's thinking, he's so difficult to read.

The thoughts don't last. Aemond leans down to press his lips to yours, the naturally curved shape of them anchors your mouth open to taste you briefly. Both of you taste of tobacco and smoke, mixed together with the musk of his scent. You don't know why it drives you so crazy. Nobody has made you feel like that…ever.

It's tender. Almost loving.

Embroiled in the heat of the moment, arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him, and you smile somewhat against his lips feeling his hardness pressed against his sweatpants.

With enlarged confidence due to lack of inhibitions, your hand winds down his body, your palm running over his length, and it's clear by the way he delivers a stuttered groan into your mouth that he enjoys it immensely and was also not expecting it.

You only part when both of your hands stop at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"What are you doing" he asks, his voice hoarse in anticipation.

"What does it look like" you smirk, lips still close to his, teasing him, "taking care of you"

Pushing them just past his hips, your hand slips down the front, past his tummy, to his achingly hard cock, wrapping your fingers around him and pumping slowly.

"I don't hear you complaining..." you smile.

" - fuck - baby…" 

You can't help but love it when he calls you that. Like it just comes so naturally.

A wicked idea strikes across your mind like a match. Your eyes light up, loving the way he's giving the illusion of being at your mercy, when in reality he could very easily flip the switch and be his usual cocksure self.

His breath seems to get sucked from his lungs when you kneel down before him, looking up at him dreamily while tugging his sweatpants down enough to free his cock, standing entirely hard against his muscled stomach, the tip ruddy and leaking with arousal.

He has such a pretty cock it's difficult to look away, and you feel your own arousal pool deep in your stomach in anticipation, tracing your palm from base to tip, caressing his length with care. Watching how his grip is white-knuckled and tight on the ledge, the wood cracking under it.

You've not done this yet with Aemond. It's always been him pleasing you.

This time it'd be different, even if he was only pretending to be in control.

Aemond watches with lips parts as you lower your mouth to the base of him, drawing a line with your tongue agonisingly slowly over the prominent vein on the underside, all the way to the tip, swirling your tongue around where he's most sensitive. It has a shuddered breath escape Aemond, with something akin to a whine.

He shuts his eyes, his fingers carding through your hair at the side of your face, all the way to the back, curling them and tugging at the follicles pleasurably.

You've slept together, but you've never seen his cock up this close, and it's a shame, because he's perfect. Thinking about taking him into your mouth is just too good an opportunity to pass up, and the heady scent of his skin just has you wanting to devour him.

" - please, don't tease m-"

You moan around his length as you take him as far as you can, relaxing your jaw muscles to allow for more, and whatever you can't fit, you caress with your hand. Aemond gasps quietly as your mouth tightens around him when his cockhead hits the back of your throat, his grip tightening in your hair.

It doesn't take long for you to begin properly pleasuring him in earnest, figuring he's been patient enough. You press your tongue to the underside and hollow your cheeks, creating more friction. Aemond looks down, watching the way his cock disappears into your mouth over and over, the length slick with saliva from your efforts.

He meets your rhythm with the soft canting of his hips, using his hold to slightly pull you onto him. You look up at him, watching his hedonistic expression and the way his mouth is slightly open with hurried breaths, pupil blown wide with lust at the lewdness of the act as well as the setting.

" - you're so good - fucking perfect - " he whispers.

The praise goes straight to your core, tightening around nothing, and it only serves to redouble your efforts.

As usual, Aemond feels the need to be assertive, and his hands smooth your hair into a ponytail, one hand gripping it in place and he pulls you off, only a string of saliva connecting either of you.

"Wha-"

"I want to fuck your mouth, baby" He mutters lowly. And in the gentle darkness of the room, with only a whisper of light at one side of his face, he looks mythical. His sudden change of tone has you wet your lips nervously, but also in excitement.

"Can you do that for me?"

You nod once, eager to please him, but also to taste him again.

He smiles slightly, "Good girl"

He pushes off the ledge slightly, standing straight and holding the base of his length, prodding the tip against your lips, the precum making them glisten. Your hands find his muscular thighs for stability.

"Tap my thigh twice if it's too much"

You nod in understanding.

"Open up for me, baby"

He plunges his cock into your mouth, taking his time to sink completely in, until he bottoms out in your mouth, his cockhead now truly tapping the back of your throat. You gag softly at the invasion of him so deeply, your grip tightening.

"Breathe through your nose - that's it - good girl - " He praises lowly, and you do as he says, making the effort to relax.

He starts to slowly fuck your mouth, gauging how much of a pace you're able to take before going any faster. His grip tightens on your hair, tugging at the makeshift ponytail and pulling on it, making you whine around his length, which only serves to urge him on as he uses your head for leverage.

" - such a pretty little mouth - fuck - " he whispers, his hips now moving in earnest, snapping against your mouth with renewed vigour, in search of release, " - you're so perfect - look at me - "

It's hard to look up at him with his cock pistoning into your mouth, but you do, and the look he has is borderline magical. His chest moves quickly with his breathing, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you with pride.

" - that's it - finally, a good use for your dirty mouth - looks so much better with my cock in it, don't you think?" 

You hum around him, trying to relax your jaw as much as possible as his cockhead bullies the back of your throat, a line of saliva running down the side of your mouth.

He laughs, " - baby you're making such a mess on me - such a good little slut - ffffuck- bet that pretty little pussy is soaked from sucking my cock -" his head tilts back, clearly close, and you can tell by the way he goes faster.

Your stomach rolls with delight, face warm with embarrassment, knowing he's entirely right, you squeeze your thighs together for some semblance of friction.

" - you gonna be a good girl and swallow for me? - want me to cum in your dirty fucking mouth? - " 

As a way of answering, you press your tongue to the underside again, one of your hands going to his balls to caress them, urging him on, with pleasured tears pricking at your eyes.

" - seven fucking - you're bad, aren't you -" he breathes, " - oh fuck - "

He slams into your mouth forcefully one last time, stilling as his cock throbs on your tongue, feeling his cum at the back of your throat. Joining the line down your chin, a line of his spend also runs down, having completely filled your mouth.

You look up at him for a brief moment, appreciating the way his eye is closed, his breath coming heavily from his lips after what sounds like a shattered whine. His shoulders tremble, and the bit of his tummy you can see poking out from under his shirt clenches uncontrollably, his muscles moving with his breath. It doesn't taste unpleasant, but it's salty and coats your mouth in the most lewd, delicious way. To see him so lost in pleasure is worth it.

His fingers loosen, and stroke your hair lovingly as you swallow as much as you can, thrusting shallowly a few more times with a near pornographic sound. After a moment, he pulls his softening length from your mouth, using one hand to tiredly tuck himself away as he looks down at you, his pupil blown wide enough to eclipse the blue and still trying to regain his breath.

"You're amazing" he praises, his thumb coming to your face to wipe the line of his release, dipping it back into your mouth. You eagerly wrap your lips around his digit, making a show of it while your eyes meet.

He pulls you up to your feet, slamming his lips against yours, heedless of the taste of himself on your tongue as he moans into your mouth. It sucks the air from your lungs, his arms wrapping around you and you in turn wrap yours around his neck.

"I could fuck you all night, you know that?" He whispers between breaks for air.

You've spent so much time with Aemond, less time romantically, but even still, it feels nice to be touched by him, to be praised by him.

He breaks and presses his forehead to yours, eyes shut, completely at ease.

You swallow. The haze now dissipated somewhat.

"I…need to say something"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry…"

He opens his eyes, brows arched in questioning, "what for, princess?"

Fuck, he needs to stop saying that. 

You wet your lips, "For calling you a nepo-baby…"

The reaction you didn't expect from Aemond, was to fucking laugh.

But he does, quiet at first, but gaining traction, his eyes crinkling up into something you've barely seen. His white teeth gleaming in the darkness.

"What?" You smile, nudging his shoulder.

"Has that really been eating you up inside?" He jokes,

"Yes!" You insist, "I've said some…nasty things as well"

Aemond rolls his eye, "You don't need to apologise to me"

"Well I did, so now's the part where you say you forgive me" you reply, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He hums a laugh, "forgive you?" He grins, "and what if I don't?"

"You have to"

"Hmm" he smirks, "maybe -" he spins you around, pushing you against the opposite ledge, and you're astonished to find him hard, yet again, against your backside. Your hands find purchase on the ledge, keeping yourself up, and your face splits in a gasp when Aemond swiftly pushes his hand past your tummy at your front and swipes two fingers across your drenched folds.

"-You'll have to earn it, princess"

When you returned to your bedroom, with a pleasant ache between your thighs, having shushed and giggled with Aemond when you snuck back in (apart from when he'd nearly knocked a very precious antique sword off the wall), you'd felt a surge of something deep in your gut when stood outside in the hallway.

Aemond could barely keep his hands away, and as well as that, couldn't let go to say goodnight. He'd pulled you to him, littering your face with kisses that always seemed to end with his lips pressed to yours desperately.

When he'd pulled away, looking down at your face in the soft darkness, there was a tug in your chest. He looked so peaceful like this, so calm. And his thumb caressed the skin of your face with care, taking in every little feature.

He opened his mouth, but swiftly closed it.

And said something else instead.

"You're so beautiful"

Though it made your skin bloom all the same, as he so easily managed to do, you felt as if he wanted to say something else. And there were words on your mind as well, that felt too serious to say out loud. 

Being this close to him, it felt incredibly intimate and rare, as if something precious had been granted to you.

And you could see the way something melted away when you touched his face, your thumb tracing the bottom of his scar carefully.

You wondered if he knew how beautiful you thought he was as well. If he'd ever been told that.

It seemed like he understood just by the gentle touch, all the little thoughts in your head.

Even if you weren't sure where exactly you stood with Aemond, even though you knew something needed to be addressed, to be defined…

…this felt nice.

But you didn't tell El these details. It would mean she'd ask questions, make you question yourself, and how you feel. You weren't sure if you were ready to confront them.

El was absolutely smug and ecstatic when you told her about what happened. As opposed to Helaena though, El did ask for the nasty details, which you provided some of. But not all. Those were for your own benefit.

You didn't tell her about what Larys had said about Floris though, not until you knew for certain. What did Larys have against Otto anyway? And why would Otto do such a heinous thing?

Supposedly.

You woke early the next morning as you always did, and pulled on a hoodie, with the chill of the day still hanging in the air. Your footsteps were soft from the fluffy socks on the staircase, a soft light emanating from the living room, and hushed angered voices within.

You stopped in your tracks, ears pricked.

Otto was here.

"You will not push Aemond as you pushed me, I will not allow it!" Alicent started, in an accusatory tone.

"I pushed you to be the greatest figure skater in Westeros. Or have you forgotten?" Otto replied, and you could tell from the tone of his voice that he looked smug.

"And pushed me into his arms into the bargain!" She retorts, her voice upset and strained, "Because of you, I am banned from skating competitively! Because of you, I cannot have one good thing of my own, and you robbed me of my only friend!"

There's a silence. You sit on the staircase, feeling wholly bad for prying, but too curious to stop. Alicent sounds as if she is catching her breath.

"And you will not take Aemond from me. You will not rob Aemond of her either"

Your heart freezes.

"She has little to do with this" Otto states,

"She is good for him. Aemond likes her"

Otto scoffs, "It is just business. Aemond knows this, it has been discussed. This is why I do not consult you, you get too emotionally invested"

Just business? You think over the words Otto has just said.

Just business partners?

No, surely…

"They are emotionally invested! I have never seen Aemond as happy with anyone as he is with her! You shall not ruin that with your vicarious ambitions!"

You can't bring yourself to truly believe what Otto has said.

Surely what you both had was more than that…

Anger prickles at your insides. 

How he treats his daughter, and by extension his grandchildren, with the exception of Helaena, who he dotes on, angers you.

How could he be so cruel to them like this? Instilling a business-like appearance on a family.

You pull out your phone, typing furiously and quickly, still hearing Alicent and Otto argue in the living room.

What sort of information do you have? 

You wait impatiently, but there's no need. Larys replies a few moments later and your heart pounds.

Good to hear from you. I'll send over all I have as soon as possible. -Larys S

General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond smut #modern!aemond fanfiction #modern!aemond fic #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x oc #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond targaryen modern au #modern aemond angst #modern aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond x you #modern aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #a perfect score #hotd au #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen x reader

[sunlightmurdock]

For Old Times’ Sake | Bradley Bradshaw x Maverick’s Daughter Reader

Synopsis: Reader is back in town visiting her father after many years away and runs into a very pleasantly familiar face.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, oral (m&f), soft dom vibes, unprotected (kinda protected) sex, swearing

A/N: this took so long bc all my drafts kept getting deleted but I persevered because I love this man… hope you guys enjoy this one :’’)

…

“Y/N, do you know that guy?” Your best friend, Ashley, leaned over the bar of the Hard Deck, eyebrows furrowed as she looked past you. “He has not stopped staring at you for the past hour.”

“Who? Pornstache?” Your other friend, Lily, asked from the other side of you. You knew immediately who they meant.

You didn’t visit San Diego much anymore, not since your dad had lived here last when you were younger. The only reason you were visiting now was because your dad had been nominated for an award and he wanted you to be at the ceremony with him.

So, you had made a trip out of it. You had brought your closest girl friends, booked a nice hotel on the beach, gone clubbing and then decided to bring them back here. They had been bugging you to show them some hot pilots the whole trip.

You turned your head, smiling as you meet Bradley’s gaze across the bar. Rooster now. That’s what your dad had been calling him. You didn’t know him as Rooster, you had known him as Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw — the son of your dad’s best friend.

When you were in High School, you got into a huge fight with your mom and ended up going to stay with Maverick for a year. That was whilst he still lived here. During that time, you went to the same school as Bradley.

He might’ve been two grades above you, but he looked out for you and made sure no one thought of you as the new girl. He drove you home, took you to parties, looked for you at his Football games and let you wear his jersey. People thought you were dating for a while that year. You hadn’t ever dated.

“That’s Bradley Bradshaw.” You said, smiling into your martini as your eyes lingered on his. He grinned at you.

“The Bradley Bradshaw?” Lily gasped, leaning closer to you excitedly. “Big dick Bradley Bradshaw?” Ashley whispered, equally excited.

Yeah. You might not have ever officially dated Bradley, but you had lost your virginity to him a week before you moved back to Arizona with your mother.

You laughed at them, taking your lip between your teeth as you watched him hand his pool cue to one of the other guys he was with, ready to forfeit his turn at pool.

“Shh, shh — he’s coming over.” You hushed them, setting your martini down on the bar and standing up as he crossed the bar to you. He seemed taller now, and he must’ve been twice as big — he had just been a flagpole in high school, tall and broad but no muscle whatsoever.

“Bradley Bradshaw.” You smiled, looking him over as he approached you. His grin only grew as he squeezed past the group of people between you and him and reached you,

“Y/N Mitchell.” He bit his lip, shaking his head slightly as he let himself look you up and down. “You — uh, you look good. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You deadpanned, in awe at how much bigger he seemed. You thought back to that night with Bradley, both of you huddled in the back seat of his Ford Bronco out on the cliffs overlooking the base — there was no way you were both fitting in that backseat now.

Lily nudged you.

“Oh, uh — Brad, this is Lily and this is Ashley. They’re my friends from LA.”

“Yeah, your dad mentioned that you’re a lawyer or something up there now.” Bradley reached up and scratched the back of his neck. He paused his hand still there, watching all three of your eyes follow his movement and land on his flexed bicep. You looked away whilst your friends shamelessly continued to stare.

“And you’re a pilot now.” You breathed, knowing that that was all he had ever wanted. You had wanted to be a million different things over the course of your life, it still changed day to day even now. You had never met someone as focused as Bradley.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled again.

“Sorry to be forward — are you seeing anyone?” Lily interrupted, making Ashley snicker. You glanced at Bradley apologetically, though he didn’t seem phased in the slightest. He shook his head at her, smiling politely, “I’m not, no.”

“Rooster, the alarm on that piece of shit in the parking lot is going off again!” Someone called from behind the bar.

Bradley sighed softly, pushing his hand into his pocket and pulling out his keys, “Sorry ladies.” You recognised the keys, eyes flickering between the metal and him, “No way — no way do you still have that pile of scrap.”

Ashley and Lily glanced at each other knowingly. They knew yours and Bradley’s story clearly.

He held the keys up and nodded, “C’mon. Come see her. For old times’ sake.”

You glanced at your friends, both of their eyes wide and silently urging you to go. You giggled, linking your arm through his as he led you out of the packed bar.

The alarm was indeed going off, but you weren’t surprised. That car must’ve been at least fifteen years old, and Bradley had driven the mileage sky high in the year that you knew him so it must have been awful now.

“Nice face fuzz by the way.” You murmured, half wanting him to hear, halfway to shy to say it to this new Bradley. He laughed, bringing his hand up and stroking at it jokingly,

“Right? Remind you of anyone?”

You smiled, your eyes lingering on his face, nodding slowly, “You look just like him.”

You may have been too young to really remember a time when Bradley’s dad was around, but your dad had pictures of him everywhere. Bradley really did look just like him.

He slid his hand down into yours and squeezed it softly, and suddenly you were back in your junior year again. He still wore the same cologne he did back then. That was his dad’s too.

He released you hand as he reached the car, kicking the hood with his boot and making the obnoxious alarm stop abruptly. You laughed, bring your hand up and covering your mouth, “Jesus, Bradley. Why do you still have this?”

“Nostalgia.” He glanced back at you, a familiar look in his eye as he walked to the passenger side and opened the door. You glanced back at the bar, seeing both of your friends watching out of the window. What the hell. You slid into the passenger seat, glancing around and checking out the backseat.

Rooster closed your door and hopped in on the driver’s side, catching you looking and grinning, “Thinking back to the best night of your life, Mitchell?”

You laughed, scrunching your nose slightly — maybe it was but he didn’t need any extra boosts to his ego — “You mean the best five minutes of my life?”

Bradley let his jaw fall open, feigning offence and then scoffing, “Fi— five minutes? All I know is that the sun was up when I kissed you, and it was down when we were done. Now forgive me if I’m wrong, but by my calculations that’s over an hour, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I was your chemistry partner, your calculations were never correct.” You teased, knowing that he was absolutely right. He shot you an amused look, turning the keys in the ignition and moving the gear into reverse.

“Where are we going?” You asked, sitting back comfortably against the familiar leather seat. Rooster shrugged, “What? You have somewhere you need to be?”

“No.” You admitted, your heart racing as you watched him pull out of the parking lot. It was an odd feeling, being more comfortable than you had been around any man in years, and also having butterflies in your stomach like a silly teenager. You put your feet up on the dash, smiling slightly to yourself as he groaned,

“God — you know I hate when you do that.”

You did know that. You wanted to see if he remembered. Still, it made him drive more carefully when you did, you had noticed that once. About ten minutes into your drive, you realised where you were going. The state reserve. The cliffs. You giggled, pressing your hand to your mouth in realisation.

Bradley grinned, glad you had finally caught on.

“If you wanted to get in my pants, Bradshaw, you could’ve just asked.” You teased, rolling down the window on your side and breathing in the salty sea air. Bradley chuckled softly,

“I was thinking about being a gentleman and taking you out for dinner or something first. ‘Til you insulted my performance.” He looked over and winked at you, pulling his car up a bit back from the edge of the cliff. You sat up in your seat, examining the perfect view out over the base, taking your lip between your teeth.

This was all too familiar. You weren’t even supposed to be up on the cliffs that night with Rooster. You had been at a party the night before and had jumped in the pool with all of your clothes on, and when you had gotten home at 5am, your dad had flown off the handle.

That was one of the only times he had really yelled at you. He had really put you in your place. Had grounded you for the last two weeks of summer. But, being the dramatic teenager you were, you had called Bradley, snuck out of your bedroom window and come up here to cool off.

“Deep in thought?” Bradley brushed your hair back off of your shoulder, sliding his fingers up your neck and massaging his fingers through the hair at the base of your scalp.

“Just… remembering.” You blushed at the thought, feeling stupid for doing so. You were grownups now, with careers and exes. It was dumb sitting up here and blushing about someone you hadn’t seen in a decade.

“Seems like there’s a lot to remember,” Bradley mused, turning his head and looking out over the view. You nodded silently, chewing at the corner of your lip to calm your nerves. “Like a lot more than five minutes of stuff to remember.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out a smacking him in the chest, pretending you weren’t impressed by how solid it was. He grinned with you. It was only once your laughter slowed that you noticed the look in his eyes, your face flushing again.

“Come here.” He jerked his head.

You giggled, holding onto his shoulder with one hand and onto the roof of the vehicle with the other as you slid over the centre console and into his lap. His hands started on your waist, sliding up your back and moving forward to cup your cheeks.

He examined your features for a moment. You examined his. There were a few more lines than you remembered, significantly better facial hair than the wispy moustache he had once tried to grow in high school. His eyes were just as soft. His hands came back down to your sides, eyes following them as they moved before looking back at your face again.

He exhaled gently, leaning forwards and kissing you. You cupped his cheeks with both hands, humming contentedly against his lips. Bradley had always been very gentle with you, you appreciated that now more than you had then. You still liked a man who took charge, but you also knew he was just being what you needed more than what you wanted.

His hands slipped under your shirt just slightly, his fingertips skimming over your sides. He stroked them up and down, and back up again, bringing your skin up in a layer of goosebumps.

Your fingers slid up into his sandy hair, tugging lightly at his roots. His hands pawed at your breasts under your shirt as he pulled back and licked his lips,

“Your boobs finally came in.” He teased, pushing the cups of your bra down so he could really feel you. A cheap shot. You were a late bloomer, you had been flat as a board until college. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hold back your smile as you smacked his head gently.

“Fuck you.” You giggled, shivering as his thumb swiped over your nipple. He pushed your shirt up, lifting it up over your head and connecting his lips to yours again immediately.

“Oh, so you were for sure planning on fucking tonight.” He chuckled breathily, his eyes falling down to the black lace on your chest. You shifted in his lap, licking your lips, “Maybe I was.”

You glanced at the backseat, furrowing your eyebrows slightly, “I don’t think you’re gonna fit in there, though.”

Bradley glanced down between the two of your bodies at the semi straining against his denim shorts, furrowing his eyebrows, “It’ll fit.”

“I meant that I don’t think you’ll fit in the backseat, Bradshaw.” You whispered, watching his features change in realisation. He rolled his eyes playfully, “I knew that.” He didn’t. You giggled as he peppered kisses along your chest, his hands still massaging at your breasts.

He glanced over his shoulder into the backseat and clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he realised you were most likely correct. He hummed, swinging the door open, pulling you closer against his body and wrapping his arms around you as he stepped out of the bronco.

“Woah — careful! Where are we going?”

You pressed your fingertips into his shoulders as he carried you around to the front of the vehicle, setting you down on the hood. You let out a breath, steadying yourself back on your palms, studying him, “Are we really gonna do this out here?”

Rooster lifted your chin, “Scared we’re gonna get caught?” He teased, pressing his lips to yours. He pressed both palms flat against the hood of the Bronco on either side of you, rutting his hips forward against yours. There was a soft breeze between the two of you, his warm hands a stark contrast to the chill in the air.

“Fuck it.” You breathed, feeling him smile against your throat as you tugged at the buttons on his Hawaiian shirt. He halfway helped you, shrugging it off of his shoulders and letting it fall into the dirt. Then his lips are on your again, his hands on your waist, pulling you against him. His kisses became less uniform. It becomes more desperate, uncoordinated and messy by the second as neither of you can hold yourself back anymore.

There had been other people in between but Bradley had ruined other men for you a long time ago. You had been waiting for this for a while.

One of his hands slid down your neck to hold you by your throat, not squeezing but just resting there, while the other remained steadfast on your hip – you find yourself shivering at the feeling of how big and strong they are, how you’re left entirely up to his mercy.

You could feel his erection, straining against his denim shorts as he rutted his hips forward against your clothed core. You breathed out hard, whimpering softly as he pulled away, kissing your chest, then your stomach as his hands worked open the button of your own shorts.

You lifted your hips for him to pull the material down your thighs, eyes twinkling as he glanced back to you, “Damn. I had my fingers crossed for the superman panties.”

You bit your lip. It wasn’t your fault — Bradley had just been your best friend, you weren’t planning on hooking up with him on that day. You had been wearing blue underwear with the superman symbol on the ass, which Bradley had found hilarious.

“These work, though,” he tugged your hips to the edge of the hood, crouching between your legs and pressing a kiss to your clothed core. He brushed the tip of his nose against your clit through the black lace, “Yeah, I like these.”

You giggled, sliding your fingers into his hair, spreading your legs for him. His finger tips pressed into you, his new trash stache tickling your skin as he grazed his teeth across the inside of your sensitive thighs.

If there was one thing Bradley had always done, it was tease you. Whether it was about your perfect grades, your low tolerance for alcohol or your superman undies. Today was no exception. His lips were everywhere except where you wanted them the most.

“Bradshaw, I swear to god,” You breathed, gripping a handful of his hair. “Touch me or lose me forever.”

He chuckled softly, his warm breath fanning out across your core, making you squirm. “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged. His fingers nudged the lace to the side and swiped two between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

You took a deep breath, arching your back up off of the hood as he slid two digits into you.

“God damn.” He murmured, kissing your hips, working his fingers in and out of you gently. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

He curled his fingers expertly inside of you, making you jolt against him.

“Missed me this much, huh?” He pressed his mouth between your legs, clasping his lips around your clit, pressing his tongue flat against you. You whined, your fingers curling against his scalp.

“Missed your cock.” You admitted playfully, rolling your hips down against his tongue. His left hand held your hips down against the hood as his fingers drove deeper into you, curling up against your g-spot, making you moan for him.

Rooster glanced up at you from between your legs, groaning gently. You looked fucking ethereal. Eyes closed, fingers covering his over your hip, your other hand on your breast.

“Be a good girl and cum for me and I’ll think about letting you have it.” He kissed your thigh, putting his mouth to work between your legs again as soon as he was done talking. You let your head fall back against the hood, writhing for him.

You licked your lips, breathing hard, “Don’t stop.” Bradley was happy to comply. You were in heaven, having a man who knew how to listen between yours legs. He didn’t speed up, didn’t slow down, just kept thrusting his fingers deep, curling them and working his tongue against your clit. His other hand rested across your pelvis, holding you down against the hood nice and still for him.

If it wasn’t for that grip, you would’ve been a wreck.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You admitted, lips parted as you stared up at the orange sky. Sunset. Of course he had brought you here at sunset. You moaned, blinking hard at the clouds over head, your fingers knotting in his soft brown hair.

Bradley kept up exactly what he was doing, coaxing you up to the edge and taking you straight over it. The clouds overhead were replaced by a blinding white, desperate moans spilling from your lips. And he still didn’t stop. You cursed, pushing yourself up on your elbows, trembling.

“B-Bradley…” You breathed, finally earning yourself a reprieve as he stood up between your legs and pressed his lips to yours. You could still taste faint spearmint on his tongue, the rest of it was all you.

You pushed yourself off of the hood, standing before him, trailing your fingers along the lines on his bare stomach. He was still so tall. You kept your eyes on him as you popped open the button of his denim shorts. He was silent, lips toying at a smile as you dragged the zipper down.

He raised his eyebrows at you, wetting his lip with his tongue, knowing exactly what you were waiting for him to say. His eyes were on you, daring you to ask him. You didn’t have to. His cock had been straining at that denim for long enough that he was willing to beg without you having to ask.

“Please.” He whispered.

Your lips curved up into a smile. Something about this decorated pilot, one of the best in the world, standing taller than you, asking so politely for you to suck his dick was so satisfying.

He swallowed, watching you kneel in front of him, tugging his shorts and boxer down enough to free his cock. You grabbed the back of his thigh with one hand, wrapping the other around his shaft, your eyes on him as you dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock, ending by wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuck,” He breathed, his thumb stroking at your cheek. “Whoever taught you how to suck dick was a fucking genius.” It was him.

You couldn’t help but pull back, laughing as you looked up at him. He shot you a wink, resting his palm on the hood of the car just past your head and taking his lip between his teeth as you wrapped your lips around him again.

It didn’t take a genius to suck a dick, but you had to admit that Bradley’s method had gotten you plenty of compliments over the years. You pressed your fingertips into his thigh, blinking tears back from your eyes as you slid him further into your mouth.

Bradley took in a sharp breath, groaning softly, “Hold on, holy shit…”

You pulled back, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and rising to your feet. He pushed you hard against the bumper of the car, slipping his arms around your body as he kissed you.

“I want you inside of me already.” You whispered, craning your head back as his lips assaulted your neck. He grabbed your hips, putting you up on the hood again, pushing the black lace between your legs to the side, his fist at the base of his cock as he lined himself up between your legs.

You winced slightly as he pushed the tip into you, his hand gripping the back of your neck, his lips pressing against your temple.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered against your ear, his breath making you tremble. You considered explaining to him that in reality he was just fucking huge. You whined at the feeling of him stretching you out, leaning back on your palms and hiking your legs up around his waist.

Bradley let out a hard breath as he bottomed out, his pelvis pressing tight against yours. His eyes watched the space between you as he rolled his hips, agonisingly slowly in and out of you. You took your lip between your teeth, sighing gently in relief as your body adjusted to the feeling of him.

“Brad?” You spoke tentatively. His warm brown eyes flickered up to you and you almost melted. You gulped, shaking your head as you remembered your original point. “I’m not made of glass.”

Bradley nuzzled the bridge of his nose against your jaw, thrusting unbearably slowly as he kissed your cheek,

“Honey, if you want me to fuck you like a whore then you have to ask.”

Your lips parted in surprise. He had always had a dirty mouth but you hadn’t ever heard this from him. He felt your walls contract around him, his hand guiding your hip as he continued his delicate thrusts.

He looked up at you again, his eyes seeming darker this time. He raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, stilling his hips all together this time. You shivered.

“I-I…” Your cheeks flushed with heat, “I want you to fuck me like a whore.”

Always one to please, Bradley pulled out and flipped you over, tugging your ass back against him. He buried himself deep inside you once again in one swift thrust.

“Fuck!” You whimpered, hiding the head in the crook of your elbow. Rooster peppered kisses from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine, giving you just a moment to recover before dragging himself back and plowing forwards into you once again.

You flinched as Bradley’s hand came down on your ass, moaning into your elbow.

“You look so pretty taking my cock like this, honey.” He murmured, dragging his lips across the the middle of your back, his hand massaging your reddened ass cheek.

“Ohmyfuckinggod.” You mewled pathetically. You cried out again, moaning softly for him each time your hipbones slammed against the hood of the car.

Bradley’s hand roamed up your back, tangling in your hair and scooping it up into a makeshift ponytail. You gasped as he tugged at your roots, pressing his bare chest against your back, exposing your neck to him as his lips assaulted your throat.

You arched your back, gasping desperately as his cock thrust even deeper into you, brushing your cervix. You cursed, doing your best to meet his thrusts, pushing your ass back against him. Rooster grunted softly, the noise reverberating in your ear drum and sending chills through you.

“Taking it so well for me, baby.” He whispered, kissing your neck.

His other arm tucked around your waist, holding you still as he rutted into you. Rutting was the only way to describe it. There was something so animalistic about the way he fucked.

He pulled at your hair, tugging you closer against his chest, snaking his hand between your legs. Your eyes fluttered closed, practically going limp in his arms for a moment. Until your hips slamming into the hood again brought you back. They were for sure going to be bruised as shit tomorrow. You would have to swap your bikini for Ashley’s one piece for sure.

“You close, baby?” Rooster whispered, his voice gruffer than it usually was. You nodded feverishly, whimpering as he finally released his grip on your roots, his hands sliding down to both grip your hips. Bradley grunted gently against your shoulder, his hips stuttering as they hit yours.

You jolted, placing your hand over his on your hip and gripping it as his other hand helped you over the edge once again.

“W-Wait- wait, you should probably pull out.” You stumbled over the words, barely remembering your own name as he drove your pelvis into the metal hood one last time. Bradley breathed hard, kissing your jaw, his cock twitching inside of you, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, “Nothing, I just got an IUD a couple days ago and I…” you paused, still trying to catch your breath, “I don’t know if it’s effective yet.”

Bradley hummed, pressing his lips to your jaw and then your temple, “What? — You don’t think Mav would be too stoked about me making him a grandpa?” He teased, thrusting once more, making you gasp.

“You’re an idiot.” You giggled, pushing your hips back against his. He grinned, turning your jaw and leaning over your shoulder to kiss you, rutting his hips forward against you.

You felt his hips stutter again, his soft breaths in your ear becoming faster.

“Fuck, okay — where do you want me to cum?” He whispered, his forehead resting against your shoulder. You made a nonsensical whimpering sound, resting your head in the crook of your elbow again. He could feel your legs against his, trembling.

You whined again as he pulled out sharply, gasping as you felt his cock brush against your ass cheek, warm ropes shooting across your ass and lower back.

He stayed there for a moment, groaning as he kissed your shoulder, before shaking his head and standing up right.

“Hold on one sec,” Bradley seemed much more coherent than you did as he walked around to the still open drivers side door. “Here you go.”

He walked back to you, chuckling softly to himself as he wiped off your back, “Shoulda taken you back to your friends like this, think they would’ve found it funny.”

You pulled your underwear back up correctly, grabbing your shorts off of the hood and pulling them back up your legs. It was at that point you realised what Bradley had balled up in his right hand as he buttoned his shorts with the other.

“Is that my shirt?”

Bradley glanced down at the now absolutely unwearable item in his hand, then looked back up at you, somewhat guiltily. Then he grinned, “Sorry. Here, you can wear mine. I’ll make it up to you.”

You glared at him playfully as he handed you the Hawaiian shirt he had been wearing and tossed your shirt onto his backseat. He shot you a wink, taking a step toward you an pressing his body against yours.

“So,” He tucked your hair behind your ear, those warm brown eyes setting in on yours again. “Better than the first time?”

“I dunno, Bradshaw,” you gave him a smug look over your shoulder as you walked over and slid into the passenger seat. He followed you, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Might have to try a third time for some more conclusive results.”

Bradley’s lips quirked up into a smirk as he turned the keys in the ignition, “Well in that case, I only live a couple minutes away.”

“I have to meet my dad early tomorrow morning, so I can’t be walking funny.”

Bradley laughed as he turned out of the clearing on the cliffs and headed back down to the main road. He shook his head, putting his hand on your thigh, shooting you a wink, “I’ll take it easy on you, honey.”

You scoffed, pushing yourself up on your knees and leaning over the centre console, pressing your lips to his neck, “I never asked you to do that.”

Bradley tilted his head from side to side, pretending to evaluate, “Maybe not. But I did notice that you forgot how to talk English for a little bit back there,” he teased, “so in the interest of preserving that big, smart brain of yours — I’m thinking maybe next time I shouldn’t fuck the language right out of you.”

You giggled against Bradley’s skin, trailing your fingertips along the inseam of his shorts until you reached his crotch. He bit the corner of his cheek, still grinning from his previous joke, his heart speeding up slightly as you stroked him over the shortsz

He took his lip between his teeth, shifting in his seat, parting his knees further to give you better access.

Lips pressing firmly to his throat, fingers dragging his zipper down agonisingly slowly then popping open the button on his shorts. Bradley groaned, pushing his head back against the headrest, rutting his hips up into your hand.

You worked your palm against his length over the denim as he pulled up to a red light. You hummed softly, turning his jaw towards you and pressing your lips to his. Bradley stiffened suddenly.

You pulled back, eyebrows furrowed as you looked him over. He was looking past you, lips parted slightly. You turned slowly, centring yourself back in your own seat, pulling your knees up to your chest as you followed his line of vision to the motorcycle stopped beside you at the lights.

Maverick looked between the two of you.

Rooster in the driver’s seat, his hair damp and falling messily across his forehead, sitting shirtless and his eyes wide. Then you. Wearing Rooster’s missing shirt, dirt on your knees, your hand still on his crotch.

Rooster slapped your hand back into your lap, swallowing hard. You winced as your father called you by your name. Your full name.

“Drive.” You demanded, slipping down in your seat. Rooster did a double take at you. He hadn’t realised that was an option.

“What?”

“Drive.” You demanded, watching the light finally turn amber. Bradley pressed the gas pedal down into the floor, eyes straight ahead.

“He’s going to rip the brakes out of my fucking plane.” He breathed, pressing his hand over his mouth. “I am so dead.”

You shook your head, “No… maybe he won’t be that mad. We’re both adults now, you know?”

Rooster glanced up into the rear view mirror, “Yeah, he’s following us.”

…

Tag List ( Please message to be added or removed )

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#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #miles teller #rooster x you #top gun smut

[melancholicheart]

All This Time- Chapter 6

cw: trans male pregnancy (past, mentioned), angst, miscommunication, fluff and happy ending

Two weeks have passed and they have been- hectic, for want of a better word.

Simon got in touch with Price, using a mobile of all things, and Johnny fumed at the fact they’re using mobiles now after all he went through trying to contact base.

Regardless, Price- and subsequently Gaz- were informed of everything. From Elizabeth, to the General, to Johnny himself and how he’s doing and it’s safe to say, Price was incredibly pissed too. So pissed, in fact, that he and Gaz have put work aside momentarily to launch an internal investigation with the help of Laswell.

They said they would keep in touch but these two weeks have passed without a peep from the 141 so Simon and Johnny are making assumptions that they’re busy working on it, scrounging up as much info as possible.

As morning rolls around, Johnny finds himself coming around at a distinctly later time that usual, which is all thanks to Simon. Johnny was used to the 5:30AM starts, working on breakfast and cleaning before Elizabeth would wake but now, it’s 8AM and Johnny’s never felt as well-rested.

He wakes to an empty bed, suddenly an unusual feat, as he feels around for Simon.

That’s another change. Somehow Simon has ended up sharing a bed with Johnny again and neither of them are complaining about it. There were brief words of ‘the couch isn’t that comfy, y’know, and the bed’s big enough’ and that’s all it took.

So lying in an empty bed feels strange despite the last five years being spent in an oversized empty bed. He’s quick to his feet, running quickly through his morning routine, before going to find his daughter and Simon.

He knows the second he steps out of his room to use the bathroom that they’re in Elizabeth’s room. The door is slightly ajar, light on and voices bouncing off the walls as they speak in relatively hushed whispers. Johnny is quick to join them.

Johnny pokes his head around the door, not disturbing the two but watching as they play. They have their backs to the door and Elizabeth is sat on Simon’s knee. His arm is draped over her legs as she doodles all over his arm.

There’s little creatures, ants and butterflies namely, scattered over his wrist. Up towards his elbow there’s little dinosaur looking things and just below the crease of his elbow, there’s a pretty good drawing of a flower (for an almost 5 year old, anyway).

“You’re just like your Papa,” Simon mumbles. His other arm is round her back, holding her still on his leg so she doesn’t topple backwards, “Always doodling. Your Dad used to colour in my tattoos when he was bored.”

“Papa always lets me doodle! I like it.”

“You’re very good at it sweetheart. The flower is excellent.” Simon says.

“It’s a daisy!”

“So it is.” Simon chuckles, staring at his arm that looks more like an abstract art piece than a limb at that point.

Johnny makes himself known then, stepping into the room and perching on the edge of Elizabeth’s bed. He takes a closer look at the drawings and smiles, “My, my! Who drew all these masterpieces?”

Elizabeth beams, “I did it, Papa!”

“I would pay millions for them, put them up in a gallery if I could!” Johnny exaggerates, making Lizzie giggle.

“You can’t put my arm in a gallery,” Simon argues, “I need it!”

Johnny almost makes a crude joke before remembering little ears are around, “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Should we go and get some breakfast?”

Johnny picks Elizabeth up and sits her on his hip, giving her a cuddle like he does every morning. Simon makes his way to the kitchen and starts poking around for food, “Not got so much in,” Simon says. He opens the fridge and gets the milk out. He sniffs it and grimaces before slamming the lid back on, “Can’t even have a brew.”

“I suppose we’ll have to go food shopping then,” Johnny sighs. A groan tumbles from his lips, “Again!”

Simon shakes his head, “Don’t worry, I’ll sort it. You and Lizzie stay here, I know you said you’ve got some things to talk about with her.”

Johnny ponders for a moment. He’s been wondering what to do about the entire ‘Simon’ thing and he spoke to him about what he wants to do. Simon said he’s more than willing to leave the army, move nearby and be a parent but Johnny wants to hear with Elizabeth has to say. He doesn’t expect much, not from a 4 year old, but he wants to give her a chance to ask questions either way.

“Alright. I’ll make you a list. We need more soap but you have to get the sensitive one because she gets rashes really easily.” Johnny says, picking Elizabeth up and sitting her on the counter in front of him.

Simon already knows the one, he uses it on his own skin since he is prone to outbreaks of his eczema. He lets Johnny make the list regardless. He lets him leave with a promise of sending him the money but Simon shrugs him off and says, “I think it’s about time I helped out.”

Once he is gone, Johnny manages to scrounge a small breakfast together, just apples and yoghurt for him and Elizabeth but he hardly touches it whilst he talks to her.

“Lizzie, darling, can me and you have a big grown up talk?” He asks.

She nods, dipping her apples into the yoghurt and kicking her feet about whilst she eats them.

“Now Daddy is here, I want to know how you’re feeling?” Johnny asks.

“Wha’ you mean?” She mumbles around a mouthful of food.

“I mean are you happy? I know you missed him before but I want to make sure you’re happy he’s here, and that you like him.”

Now her nods are more vigorous, “Yeah Papa! I like him, he’s nice! He tells silly jokes, like you.”

Johnny chuckles a little, “That’s what happens when you become a Dad, they give you a book on the silliest jokes to tell your babies.”

“You’re lyin’!”

“Okay, maybe a little, but it is a thing! The best jokes come to you when you’re a Dad.” Johnny says.

“So, is Daddy gonna go back fightin’ again?” She asks. Johnny takes a moment to eat some of his own breakfast as he thinks of a response.

“I don’t know yet, there’s a lot of grown up stuff to sort out but I know Daddy wants to be here with you, he told me himself.” Johnny explains.

“I wan’ him to stay. I loves having him here!” She exclaims and Johnny smiles.

“I do too sweetheart.”

Simon takes a long time getting back. Johnny wonders if something’s happened, if he got lost or he skipped town. He would be so pissed that he would storm onto his old base and beat the shit out of him if he skipped out on his daughter.

He manages to work himself into such a worry that he becomes angry and starts furiously cleaning the house whilst Eliza plays with her dolls and her dinosaurs. By the time Simon comes back, Johnny breathes such a sigh of relief that a few tears slip from his eyes and he wipes them away swiftly.

“Hey,” Simon says, placing the few bags on the counter, “Everything okay?”

Johnny nods, drying his hands on a tea towel after doing the dishes. He takes a deep breath, smiles and turns around to Simon, “Yeah.”

Simon looks straight through Johnny’s facade, just like he always did, and goes to question him when Elizabeth comes over and clings to Simon's leg, “Daddy you were gone ages!”

“I wasn’t gone too long sweetie, I needed to get a few extra things.”

“Like what?” Johnny suddenly snaps and he turns away before either of them can see the tears in his eyes again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap- I just- yeah.”

“Johnny, what’s going on?” Simon asks, stepping closer to him and pressing a hand to the small of his back. Johnny takes a deep breath and sighs.

He looks down at his daughter who sees he looks upset and rushes to him, clinging to his leg instead and he reaches a hand down to play with her hair. He looks up at Simon and his heart clenches, “I- you were gone so long and I got worried. I thought- I thought you left.” He whispers, quiet enough so Elizabeth doesn’t hear.

“Left? Oh shit, Johnny I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you where I was going-”

Johnny shakes his head, “No I should’ve just trusted you, you’re a grown man, you don’t have to tell me where you are 24/7.”

“Well, you’re right I guess but I should’ve told you either way. We’re a team, right? Can’t be a team if I’m off sneaking around, can we?” He asks and Johnny shakes his head.

“Can we know where you were?” He asks and Simon nods, suddenly looking less guilty and more enthusiastic.

“Of course! I actually had a little surprise planned but I needed to go to multiple places to execute it,” Simon explains. He reaches to one of the bags, not a supermarket one and pulls out two beautiful bouquets. One is smaller than the other, a mix of beautifully colourful flowers with little decorations accompanying the flowers, dinosaurs of all things.

The other bouquet is full of purple, blue and white flowers, very deep but very pretty nonetheless and the decorations in there are full of bees and butterflies, Johnny’s favourites. He hands them both a bouquet each, corresponding to the decor within them.

“I suppose this is a sorry, a thankyou and a everything all together bouquet,” Simon explains to Johnny, before turning to Elizabeth, “And I couldn’t get Papa flowers without giving some to my beautiful girl, could I?”

Elizabeth smiles and begs to be picked up. She cuddles into Simon and plays with the little dinosaur decor in the flowers, “Daddy, I love it!”

“I’m so glad baby,” He mumbles, looking to Johnny who is staring at the bouquet with a bright smile, “I have another little surprise too.”

“Another?” Johnny asks as Simon sits Elizabeth on the counter, rolling his sleeve up.

On his arm, below his elbow crease, is a tattoo of the flower Elizabeth drew that morning. Perfectly imperfect, just like the original drawing, and just below it, there’s Elizabeth’s birthdate.

“Papa! Daddy got the drawing!” Elizabeth squeals. She kicks her legs in delight and Johnny places his bouquet down to look at the tattoo on Simon’s arm.

Johnny looks up at Simon, words escaping him and he just hugs him. Simon seems shocked before he melts into it and hugs Johnny back.

“Thankyou,” Johnny mumbles, “Thankyou Si.”

“I’m sorry.” Simon mumbles and Johnny knows what he means and that he means it.

“I know. It’s okay.” Johnny holds him close and Elizabeth begs to be invited into the hug, the two of them squishing her between them to cuddle her as she yells in laughter at them both.

#call of duty #mw2 #ghostsoap #mw2 2022 #soapghost #john soap mactavish #family #ghost #simon ghost riley #soap #trans man #trans mpreg

[gardensgatekeeper]

'Tis the Damn Season - Part 1

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

Word Count: 1,686

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, drinking, implied sex // loss of virginity. Let me know if I missed anything!

Got inspired after listening to 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift one too many times oops!

You and Danny were the textbook definition of high school sweethearts, even making it in the yearbook for most likely to get married. Never in a million years would you have been prepared for the world of hurt that followed the messiest breakup this town has ever seen. Something about going to college and needing to find some perspective, whatever the hell that meant. In the seven years that have since passed, you’ve done everything imaginable to block everything out of your memory. Hell, you quite literally left town a few months after because it was just too much. In a small town where everyone knows everything, you just couldn’t escape the hushed whispers every time you left the house. Not to mention the fact that nearly everything reminded you of him, from the traffic light in front of the bank he almost ran on the first date because he couldn’t stop staring at you…

It was exactly 5:30 p.m. on the dot when you heard a sturdy knock on the front door, making your heart leap out of your chest. “I’ve got it!” You practically leaped from the couch where you had been anxiously waiting for the past 45 minutes. You quickly opened the door where Danny stood on the other side, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers that had clearly been pulled from the side of the road somewhere. Nonetheless, they were perfect. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hi.” He grinned back. “Uh, these are for you.” He sheepishly said, handing you the flowers. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” You quickly ran to put them in a cup of water in the kitchen, making a mental note to properly arrange them in a vase later. When you waltzed back to the front door, you overheard your dad threatening Danny to have you back before your 9:30 p.m. curfew or else he’d be meeting his Smith & Wesson. “Dad!” your face turned beet red with embarrassment, practically shoving Danny out the door. “I promise he’s not serious.” You reassured Danny, who you were sure was probably scared shitless. He nervously chuckled before opening the passenger door of his 1987 Chevy Silverado for you. It felt like such a fairytale that a sophomore as cute and charming as Danny would want anything to do with the awkward little freshman you were. You still don’t know what he saw in you. On the drive to the movie theater, you noticed he kept glancing in your direction, a goofy grin peeking through. Your face flushed red once again, but not with embarrassment. In a moment you caught him glancing at you again, the green glow on his face suddenly flashed yellow then red in the blink of an eye. Looking ahead, you screamed out “Danny!” He whipped his attention back to the road, brakes squealing as he quickly applied pressure to stop the vehicle just before it crossed the white line at the intersection. “Shit, are you okay?” He asked. “Yeah, I'm fine.” I’m sorry, you just look so beautiful and I couldn't stop staring” …

To the time you gave yourself to him after your junior prom.

It seemed like just yesterday Danny showed up at your house with a sign asking you to be his date to prom, which you obviously said yes to. The night had been everything you dreamed of; you’d gotten all dressed up and took lots of pictures with your friends and dozens more with just you and danny. You’d danced the night away, from practically raving to the club-like songs to swaying to the more softer melodies. But when Danny pulled into the driveway of your house, you felt a pang in your heart as you weren’t ready for the night to end just yet. “Do you wanna come inside for a bit?” You asked. “Truthfully, I think I might need you to help me out of this dress.” You chuckled more to yourself. “Of course baby.” He smiled, quickly hopping out and opening the passenger door as he had done countless times before. Your parents just so happened to be out of town for the weekend, so you had the house to yourself. You took advantage of their absence and snagged a beer from the fridge, offering one to Danny who politely declined. “If you're worried about having to drive, why don’t you just stay?” His decision was clear when he smiled and grabbed the beer can you were still holding out. After changing into more comfortable clothes, the two of you cuddled up on the couch and put on a random movie. Of course, one thing led to another and soon you found yourself straddling his lap, sucking each other's faces off like the world was going to end. Your hips subconsciously shifted and a soft groan escaped his lips, which ignited a flame inside you. You and Danny had done a lot of things together, but hadn’t gone all the way yet. You were still a virgin and had been wanting to save yourself for ‘Mr. Right.’ You felt so lucky that Danny never pressured you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, which must have been the reason you suddenly felt ready. Your movements halted as you pulled back, a look of confusion and concern spreading across Danny's face. “What's wrong baby?” “Nothing. I uh-" "You what?” “I want you Danny. All of you.” You whispered. “What? Are you sure? Y/N don’t think that just because I’ve got a raging bo-“ “Danny it’s not that I promise.” You giggled before continuing. “I’m ready. I trust you. I want you.” The smile that radiated from him warmed your heart so much. He grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you with such passion, you felt like you might truly float away.” “I love you Y/N.” With that, he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs to your room …

And here now you found yourself standing in that very bedroom where you’d be staying for the holidays. Of course, it looked a lot different than it did back then — the once vibrant blue walls were swapped for a much softer pale yellow and a new set of bedroom furniture replaced the well loved pieces you once had. Though physically things were different, the memories of your past life still remained, as if they were bound there forever. Your heart ached as you longed for the simpler times, before you had to deal with the shitty reality of the real world. Just like always, your parents were driving you absolutely insane. So when your mom mentioned needing something from the store, you jumped at the opportunity to get out of the house. It felt weird being back after being away for so long, really only having been back two or three times since you moved to the city. In the hopes of trying to avoid going back to the torture of listening to your parents argue over the controversy of ‘Baby it’s Cold Outside,’ you decided to take a little walk down memory lane, a stroll around town if you will. You managed to find a parking spot in the lot centered in between the Methodist church and your old high school. Your heart panged as you remembered the familiar feeling you had on your graduation day when it really sank in that you didn’t have Danny anymore. God why couldn’t you get him out of your mind? Shaking your head, you stepped out of your car into the brisk, unforgiving cold. Walking down the street, you admired all of the stores with festive window-front decorations. You found yourself even popping in a few of the shops and getting some last minute gifts for some of your friends back in the city. As you exited one store and made your way back out onto the street, the wind suddenly picked up and a strong gust ripped the scarf from around your neck. “Shit!” you gasped, going to chase after it. You sighed in relief as you saw someone up ahead grab it for you. “Thank you so much! I don’t know where that wind ca-“ Your words immediately stopped as the kind stranger turned around. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the slightly aged face. “Y/N?” Your mind raced with a million thoughts as you tried to collect yourself and respond, but instead you found yourself staring blankly back at him. “I thought this looked familiar. Is this the scarf I got for your birthday that one year? I can't believe you still have it.” He said more to himself, seemingly analyzing the worn fabric material before handing it back to you. “Thanks.” You quietly muttered. “So, you in town for the holidays?” “Uh yeah, staying at my parents’ house.” “Cool, well uh, I’m around for a few days if you wan-“ “Danny we don’t have to do the awkward small talk. Just forget it, I should be getting back anyway.” Your chest felt heavy as all the old emotions were coming back up, tears threatening to spill out. You quickly turned to walk back towards your car but before you could get very far Danny called out for you. “Y/N wait!” He caught up to you, gently resting his hand on your arm. “Listen, I'm sorry. I know we I didn’t leave things in a good place and that’s completely my fault.” Your eyes swelled as the tears were beginning to cloud your vision, but you refused to give him even a single one. Especially not after how many tears you had given him all those years ago. “I don’t think-“ You started but were abruptly interrupted. “Please Y/N. Can I pick you up later? We can ride around like we used to, just for old times sake.” There it was. That same smile that made you fall for him so many years ago. The same smile that appeared when he said he loved you for the first time. The smile that made you give into anything he asked. “Okay.”

Part two

#greta #greta van fic #gvf #daniel robert wagner #danny wagner #dannywagner #gvf imagine #gvf danny #gretavanfleet #danny gvf #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner x you #danny wagner x y/n #gardensgatekeeper

[nightmyst14-blog]

The Lost Legendary Pt 1

Part one to the October/ Halloween Arc. I'm probably gonna keep this going for the whole month of October. Hope you enjoy!!

Setting: A Class sleepover was being held at the Natural History Museum, hosted by Eclair along with the help of Tea Knight. The old knight was telling an old scary story to the kids.

Tea Knight: *speaks* The fight led on, crumpled bodies of cookies littered the battlefield, drained of jam. The sorcerer looked ahead, facing what caused such a massacre.

In the middle of the field, a large great beast stood over them as it drained another cookie. Its body stretched up to the sky, its fur as dark as the coldest night. Its fangs as big as longswords gleamed in the darkness, snarling at the sorcerer. Its many eyes glared at them, hissing.

Sorcerer: *summons a magic spell*  *Back into the dark depths you go, Beast!!”

Tea Knight: *speaks* The large dark furred monster let out a piercing screech, as chains were wrapped around its furred body. It goes to fight off its magic, breathing blasts of darkness everywhere. Its wings knocked the trees around them, making the sky a piercing red.

It struggles, howling as it was dragged down, its body twisting and turning onto a cloud of darkness in order to escape, but to no avail. It soon locked into a large coffin, a large lock placed in order to keep the beast inside.

Then-

Straw. Crepe: *interrupts* Borrrringgg!!

Gingerbrave: Hush!!

*Tea Knight looked up his book, seeing the child.*

Tea Knight: *raises an eyebrow* Yes?

Straw. Crepe: That’s a bad story. 

Strawberry: *hugging a plushie* I-It is kinda scary…

Walnut: nah!! I heard way more scary stories from my uncle’s partner.

Cream Puff: Y-Yeah! *She says as she sits in her sleeping bag.*

Eclair: *walks in holding a tray of apple cider* Well, its just a story based on a myth.

Tea Knight: *nods* According to myth, the beast that the sorcerer fought was said to be as old as the Sugar Swan, being its sworn enemy to fight against for all eternity. A creature made of the first drops of darkness and the oldest fermented sour grapes. The great Scuppernong beast, it was called.

Gingerbrave: Woah!! That’s gotta be.. Like, a million years!!

Wizard: W-well, based on what we know of the Sugar Swan, it must be older than that.

Cream Puff: *nervous* I-Is it real? 

Tea Knight: No dear. I doubt it. No such thing has ever been found. People think that it was probably a made-up tale made to scare children. The Natural History Museum had made it into a exhibit though, even with a replica of the same coffin that contained the beast.

Eclair: *hands out the mugs of cider* Yes, though..

Strawberry: What is it, Mr. Eclair?

Eclair: *scratches his forehead.* Well.. Vampire is not really a fan of that story when I told it.

Wizard: *confused* Vampire Cookie, Papa? 

Eclair: *nods* Oui. Well, I once told the story at a fall festival, and he made an outburst, saying that “That’s not what happened!!” or “You got it all wrong!!” 

Straw. Crepe: What a weirdo.

Eclair: Well, he is the town drunk… But never mind that. Its almost 11:30. Time for bed.

*the kids whine and groan a bit, not feeling tired at all.*

Walnut: But Mr. Eclair..

Tea Knight: Now now, you heard the museum instructor. Its time for you young ones to sleep.

Eclair: *nods* Yes, I have work to finish with Blueberry Pie and your parents will be coming to pick you up in the morning. I will need you all up by 9:30 then.

*The kids reluctantly agree, soon climbing into their sleeping bags.*

Wizard: Night Papa. *He said, taking off his hat.*

Walnut, Cream Puff, Gingerbrave, Strawberry, and Straw. Crepe: Goodnight, Mr. Eclair!!

Eclair: *smiles* Goodnight young ones. See you all in the morning. *He dims the lights before shutting the door behind him.*

*the kids nestle up in their sleeping bags, looking around the room, reading a book or playing a game. After 20 minutes, Strawberry. Crepe sits up.*

Straw. Crepe: I wanna go check out that exhibit!

Gingerbrave: *sits up* Me too!!

Wizard: *Looks up from his book* But Papa said we need to go to bed.*

Walnut: *giggles* C’mon Wizard!! Have some adventure!!

Cream Puff: well… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look..

Strawberry: *nervous* W-what if we get caught??

Straw. Crepe: Its just a quick look. What are you scared that the Scuppernong Beast will get you?? *They teased*

Strawberry: *whines* S-stop…

Walnut: Guys, Mister Tea Knight only said it was a myth. It's not like it's an actual creature.

Gingerbrave: C’mon guys!! One quick look.

Wizard: *sighs angrily.* Fine. But after this, we’re going straight to bed!

Walnut: Yay! Let’s go!!

*The group of children head out of the room, going to find the Scuppernong Beast Exhibit.*

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run #eclair cookie #tea knight cookie #gingerbrave #strawberry cookie #strawberry crepe cookie #walnut cookie #wizard cookie #cream puff cookie

[octoberpluviophile]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you come back to Hawkins for a few days, thinking it’d be good to spend a weekend away from college. the stress is getting to you, though. luckily, there’s someone who knows just what to do to get you to relax.

warnings 18+ only!, minors dni, smutty, fem!reader, college!reader, praise kink, dirty talk, mentions of weed, porn with plot, slow burn, they’re both painfully unaware and oblivious but it’s ok <3 let me know if I missed something

word count 8k

It’s dark outside, the only source of light coming from the street lamps, softly illuminating the pavement that you’re walking on. You took the long way home from the bus station, feeling like you needed to be by yourself for a while before you got home and let your mind wander a bit. 

It’s been some time since you last spent the weekend back home in Hawkins. College classes were far from easy and a weekend trip wasn’t something you could afford to do since you were sure you’d miss out on some kind of assignment. 

Everyone always said college was gonna be the best time of your life, but you just couldn’t understand what about it was supposed to be so good. 

Friends? You haven’t connected with anyone on a meaningful level, all your closest and dearest friends were here, in Hawkins. And having no close friends usually means no college parties, no late-night escapades, no getting drunk on cheap beer and no shoulder to cry on when you felt like you needed it most.

That’s why you finally decided to spend a weekend back home, nostalgia overwhelming you as soon as you stepped foot into town. The familiar scent of your hometown lingers in the air all around you as you walk down the street, passing all the buildings you haven’t seen in what seems like so long. 

Stress has never wrapped your mind in such a twist as it did these past few weeks, draining you both mentally and physically. Finals are coming up and if someone asked you, you’d swear you could physically feel it creeping up your neck. You kept telling yourself you’d feel better at home, maybe even study easier considering there wouldn’t be a noisy roommate by your side. 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts you don’t even notice when you pass by Family Video where Robin and Steve work. With music blasting through your headphones, your gaze cast down, unfocused and faintly blurred, you don’t notice a familiar van parked in front of it and two of your friends sitting on the curb. 

“Hey, isn’t that-” Eddie goes to ask, slowly standing up from his spot but is quickly interrupted by his younger companion. 

“Yeah, that’s her,” Dustin’s response is fast as he stands up as well, arms crossing over his chest as he looks after you. “Huh, weird. Should I go after her and say hi? We haven’t seen her in a while, right?” He starts walking in your direction, his pace fast and determined to catch up to you, but Eddie is quick to stop him. 

“Wait, wait, wait. Don’t be a creep, Henderson,” Eddie says with his arms on Dustin’s shoulders, his eyebrows pinching together in thought. “She’s got her headphones on, see? Don’t wanna scare her in the dark. I’m sure she’ll let Wheeler know she’s in town tomorrow or something.” 

There’s a moment of silence between the two boys, and then Dustin speaks again, this time in a more relaxed manner. “You’re right, you’re right. She didn’t totally forget about us while she was away. Not. A. Chance,” he emphasizes the last three words, turning towards Eddie to give him a confident smile. 

Eddie sighs and pats him on the back, still staring at you from afar even though you’re just a minuscule shadow by now. It seems as if a million thoughts are running through his head, judging by the look on his face, but all he gets out is a hushed “Yeah.” 

Blissfully unaware of the people you pass, the sounds, the houses, you keep on walking until you reach your house. You didn’t tell anyone you were coming home for the weekend, not even your parents, deciding it would be best to surprise them. 

It’s a late Friday night but you can see the dim light from the TV dancing across the room, painting it in shades of colorful hues. That must mean they’re still awake, you think to yourself and start knocking softly, a fleeting feeling of uncertainty washing over you but you can’t pinpoint why that is. You shift on your feet and switch your travel bag from one shoulder to another, doing your best to stay calm. 

The door opens slowly, allowing light from the hallway to peek into the night and revealing the figure of your mom, confusion evident on her face until her eyes meet yours. 

“Surprise!” 

• • •

It was Saturday morning when you called Nancy to let her know you were in town and would love to see everyone and hang out later. Being the good friend she is, she immediately thought of a plan so your visit would be a surprise for the rest of the group. You smiled to yourself, finally feeling a piece of your old self coming back into place. 

That’s why you’re standing in front of Family Video now, while Nancy’s inside trying to get Robin and Steve to hurry up and finish their shift. You don’t know where the rest of the group is, but you’re positive Nancy thought of everything and everyone. 

“Hey, Nance, what’s the rush?” You suddenly hear someone say behind you, and you resist turning around right away, smiling a little when you recognize Steve’s voice. 

“You know it takes a while for my legs to catch up to my brain, otherwise I’d be tumbling and falling and tripping and as much as I’m sure you’d get a good laugh out of that, I prefer coming home in one piece tonight,” Robin’s words start to come out faster as she begins to ramble. 

You can’t help but giggle as you turn around and lock your eyes on three of your closest friends. “I’m pretty sure whatever Nancy has planned for today is harmless. You’ll be coming home without a scratch.”

Both of them widen their eyes in surprise as they rush over to you, hugging you and smiling like the two silly idiots they are. You swear you can feel your chest burst with happiness as you explain that you’re here for the weekend and you’re spending it with them. “So, brought any babes back with you?” Steve asks, his lips pulling into a smirk as he looks around for said babes. 

Robin bites back a laugh and Nancy rolls her eyes, already over Steve’s antics. You pat him on the chest, scoffing a humorless laugh, “You wish, Harrington.” 

What he doesn’t have to know, though, is that you don’t actually have any friends you could take on a weekend trip home. You have a girl who you share a room with and that’s that. It’s not like she ever put any effort into trying to get to know you in the past few months. 

Not even a few minutes later you frown a bit when you hear loud music blasting in the distance, sounding like it’s getting closer by the second. You don’t have to think about it too much, a bolt of electricity making its way up your spine as you realize who it is. 

“Ah, just in time,” Nancy says and starts walking towards the parking lot, confusing you as she goes. 

You scramble towards her. “Uh, Nance? You invited Munson?” You ask her in a faint whisper, trying to keep this conversation between the two of you. 

“Yeah, of course. Did you not want me to? Shit, maybe I should’ve asked, sorry-” 

It’s not that you had a problem with Eddie Munson or anything like that. You were… friendly, but not as close as you were with Nancy or Steve. He only hung out with you and the group a couple of times before you left for college, so it’s obvious he became closer with the rest of them while you were away for the better part of the year. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you say truthfully. “Just didn’t cross my mind you still hang out, I guess.” 

“Yeah, we do. He’s great actually, you’ll see.” 

And with that, he’s parking his van, music dying down as he does so. You see a familiar figure sitting close to him, face framed by unruly curls and you can’t help the smile that pulls on your lips. Henderson, that little shit. 

The two of them hop out of the van, Max, Lucas and Mike following close behind. You knew Nancy planned this as a surprise, but it’s you who’s surprised when you see all of them together, finally. 

The only thing you can do is giggle when they all realize what’s going on, brows shooting up in surprise as they make their way over to you. 

The last time you hugged people this much was the day you left for college, the same faces surrounding you as they are now. It’s kind of bittersweet if you really think about it, how that moment came full circle now, except the emotions behind it are totally different today.

“Good thing you remembered to say hello now,” Henderson mumbles, his voice muffled because of the tight hug and the rest of the kids snicker. 

You frown, unwrapping your arms from around him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Just that you don’t pay as much attention as everyone thought you did,” Eddie cuts in, his voice a little huskier than you remember. You open your mouth to reply only to close it again with nothing to say. He smirks slightly as he leans on the side of his van. “Good to have you back.” 

He’s wearing a band t-shirt and dark jeans, his long, messy curls swaying in the soft wind. You know you haven’t been away for that long, but still, you feel like something’s different about him.

“Yeah, it’s good to be back,” you reply, half aware of the words coming out of your mouth, half distracted by the weird feeling settling in your stomach at the sound of his voice and the sight of him alone. What is up with that?

“So, ready to go?” Nancy piques up. 

“Where are we even going? Steve ran out of his Farrah Fawcett hairspray earlier, I’m just wondering if he’ll make it, you know,” Robin points a finger towards Steve, mouthing ‘yikes’.

“Lover’s Lake. We’re having a picnic!” 

Initially, you thought you were going to hang out at Nancy’s place, maybe watch a movie or something like that, but you have to admit… spending the day at Lover’s Lake wasn’t a bad idea. 

In fact, you can’t remember the last time you laughed this much, your cheeks hurting in the best possible way, but you ignore it. There is no feeling you can think of that would top this. 

It’s perfect. 

Steve even tries to go swimming, feeling encouraged by the hot, humid air of today. “Who’s testing out the water?” he asks while all of you are sitting, scattered around on blankets. Everyone looks at him as if he’d grown another head and then laughs like it’s the funniest joke you’d ever heard. 

“I bet you five bucks you can’t make it past three minutes in there,” Eddie challenges and you turn to your right where he sits, not close enough to touch but enough for you to see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Deal,” they shake hands. “Easiest five bucks I’ve ever made.”

Steve gets out of the lake after a minute and a half, his teeth visibly chattering, and runs towards the blankets. What was he thinking? It only gets warm enough to swim towards the end of June. 

“Pay your dues, Harrington,” Eddie leans over you, his hand stretched towards Steve to take the cash and, God, why does he smell so good? 

You unconsciously draw in a shallow breath, hoping that he doesn’t hear it. You need to pull it together, you think to yourself, it’s just Eddie Munson, for fuck’s sake. 

His eyes find yours as he leans back and for a second, for just a second, you feel like you’re frozen in place. Then, Eddie turns toward Dustin, listening to him talk about his new girlfriend. 

A couple of minutes later Nancy asks if you had gone out with anyone lately, the memory of a two-minute hook-up in the back of a car immediately crossing your mind and making you laugh weakly under your breath. “Oh, should I take that as a yes?” 

“I won’t confirm nor deny,” you reply with a little shrug and the kids giggle, whispering something in between them. You glance in their direction, but what you don’t expect is to find Eddie staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

You offer him a small smile, not knowing how else to react, but he just looks away quickly. Okay then, whatever.

When it’s time to go home, you make plans for Sunday, too. Just the five of you, though, no kids this time. Eddie says he has something new to try out and offers to share. Nancy, Robin and Steve immediately agree to come by in the afternoon, leaving you to do the same, even though you can’t remember the last time you got high. 

Well, that’s going to be fun.

• • •

Forest Hills Trailer Park is on the other side of town and it takes you almost half an hour to get there. You mentally scold yourself for choosing to walk this far, the afternoon sun warming your skin up so much you can swear it feels like it’s burning. 

Even though you’ve only been here once before, you still remember where Eddie’s place is. As you slowly make your way towards it, you notice someone sitting on a makeshift bench in front of the trailer, gently strumming a guitar… shirtless. 

Eddie doesn’t notice you straight away, too distracted by humming a song and trying to get the chords right. You stand there for a couple of seconds, a soft smile tugging at your lips involuntarily, just watching him. 

His hair is covering most of his face, dark curls falling just below his shoulders. There’s a chain around his neck, with a guitar pick hanging from it and resting between his collarbones. Your eyes travel over his chest, a sheen layer of sweat glistening in the sun, and you can’t help but notice the tattoos there. 

Fuck, those are nice. Hot, even. 

As quickly as that thought crossed your mind, you avert your eyes from the sight in front of you. The heat comes up your neck, a soft blush you pray he wouldn’t be able to see and you find comfort in noticing the sun is behind you now, burning into your neck.

You try to focus on something else, anything else, but all you manage to do is clear your throat, too loud for your liking.

That makes Eddie snap his head up, squinting as he looks towards you. “Shit, you scared me,” he says, putting his guitar next to him. “Hey.” 

“Sorry. Hi,” you shift on your feet, not uncomfortable, but nervous. Why are you nervous? 

“You’re kinda early. No one’s here yet.”

Oh. 

You look around the park and, sure, Nancy’s car isn’t here. Of course, you missed that, too busy staring at Eddie’s chest, and if he caught you doing that, you’re sure you’d fall through the ground. 

Eddie notices the weird expression on your face, something he thinks is between annoyance and worry, and he attempts to break the heavy, thick blanket of tension that fell over you. “It’s fine, we’ll just wait for them and… hang out.” The end of his sentence sounds more like a question rather than a statement and you finally bring your eyes to him again. 

He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, his lips slightly pursed, hands open in a silent ‘what do you say’ motion. You let a laugh under your breath, willing yourself to relax. “Yeah, okay,” you reply, not moving from where you’re standing, “that’s okay.” 

Eddie smiles back at you, smugly, noticing you’re flustered but choosing not to comment on it. Instead, he goes for the steps that lead into the trailer but stops on the first one. “I’m gonna grab us something to drink, you make yourself comfortable, sweetheart,” he says, waving his hand to where he was sitting not even a minute ago almost theatrically and then he’s gone. 

Sweetheart. Did he just call you sweetheart? 

No, you must’ve heard him wrong, you think, sitting down next to his guitar, careful not to touch it or move it. While you wait for him, you decide to get at least some work done while you still can and get the book you’re reading for a class out of your bag. 

You flip through a few pages, paying attention but also not really. The feeling of the blazing sun on your skin is making you too fidgety, unable to focus and you blow a long, drawn-out sigh out of annoyance. 

“Something bothering you?” Eddie suddenly says, making you look up to where he was standing at the entrance of the trailer, two lemonades in his hands. He makes his way over and hands you a glass, your eyes falling on the band shirt he must’ve put on just now. 

“Thanks,” you take a sip and Eddie sits next to you. “It’s really good.” 

“Made it myself,” he grins and it’s impossible not to smile back. “So?”

“So what?” 

Eddie watches as you take another long sip of the lemonade he made, condensation already building up on the glass from the heat. A lonely droplet travels across your thumb and falls on your chest, the low-cut top you’re wearing doing nothing to hide the exposed skin there. He watches as it travels between the valley of your boobs… down, down, down and gone. Disappeared. 

Eddie clears his throat suddenly. “What’s bothering you?” He leans back, his legs spread out a bit as he stares at you thoughtfully. 

You look at him over your shoulder and can’t help noticing how pretty he looks like this, bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun, his hair a mess of curls that just fall together perfectly. And his lips, God his lips… has Eddie Munson always looked like this? 

You take a deep breath to snap yourself out of this weird trance. “Oh, it’s just college stuff. Finals are coming up so it’s been pretty stressful lately, I guess,” you say truthfully. “Came back here to get away from it all and try to relax.” 

“And how’s your little quest going so far?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to sleep much, can’t do any of the assignments I planned on doing because I can’t focus. And I probably can’t focus because I’m fucking sleep deprived, so I guess it’s all just a vicious circle, Munson.” 

He lights up a cigarette and takes a drag, looking at you with amusement evident in his eyes. “So, not that great is what you’re saying, huh?”

“I mean, hanging out yesterday was great, but besides that… I don’t know.” There’s a little silence between the two of you and you take it as a sign to keep talking. “That’s why I walked here, thought I’d tire myself out enough to get some sleep later.”

“You walked all the way here?” Eddie asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. You glance towards him and nod. “Why didn’t you ask me to give you a ride or something? Shit, s’too hot to be walking around.”

You laugh a little before you reply. “I don’t mind, gives me some time to clear my head. And, I don’t have your phone number so I wouldn’t know how to reach you anyway.”

“If you want my number, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask,” Eddie says lowly and when you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he’s smirking. 

You playfully smack his shoulder, not nearly enough to hurt him, but he still pretends as if you did. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” you laugh under your breath. 

It’s almost unbelievable how easy it was for you to warm up to him, but in reality, it would be easy for anyone considering his charming nature and personality. You couldn’t see yourself hanging out with him before, even the first time you did it as a group. But now?

You’re pretty sure you could be good friends. 

A muffled ring comes from inside the trailer and you both turn your heads toward it. “Speaking of phones…,” Eddie jokes as he makes his way inside, leaving you to sit alone yet again. 

The heat is becoming unbearable, though, and you decide to gather up enough courage to make your way up the steps of the trailer, stopping at the door when you come face to face with Eddie. 

He raises a brow as he points behind himself. “Wheeler called to say they’re gonna be late, something about Harrington and Robin having a situation at work or some shit,” he explains and shrugs. “Wanna come inside?”

“Please, I feel like I’d melt otherwise,” you sigh. “It’s fucking unreal how hot it is.” 

The two of you go to his room and Eddie motions for you to sit on his bed while he searches for something. You take the time to look around, your eyes travelling across various posters on his bedroom wall - some you know, some you’ve never heard of. 

His room is slightly messy but you think it’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be... like all the things are in their rightful place. 

A familiar song starts to play and you glance to where Eddie is standing next to the stereo, already looking at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, and if the music wasn’t playing you swear you could hear a pin drop. 

He holds his hand up then, a joint between his fingers and raises his brows. “Interested?”

You never thought getting high with Eddie Munson was something you’d do on a Sunday afternoon, especially just the two of you alone, but here you are - smiling and laughing and giggling like kids.

Sprawled out on his bed with your feet planted on the floor, a sort of haziness overtakes you but it feels warm. It feels good. 

Eddie’s right next to you, close, so close, and if you focus hard enough, you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. Your fingers tingle where you’re almost touching him, almost as if that warmth is solid, like a shield around him. 

Suddenly, the image of Eddie surrounded by a glowing red light pops into your mind and you can't help yourself - you’re bursting into a fit of giggles. 

Eddie stops talking, turns his head towards you and playfully narrows his eyes. “What’s so funny?” 

You can’t even look at him at first, trying to catch your breath before you’re turning to him. “Nothing, I swear.” 

“Nothing, huh?” 

“Mhm, nothing,” you reply decidedly. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, now she wants to know what I was saying,” Eddie says loudly, throwing his hands in the air and letting them fall back to his chest. “Should’ve paid attention, it’s over now.”

“You’re not gonna tell me?”

“Nope.”

He looks at you, a small smile playing on his lips and a glint of something entirely else in his warm eyes. “Keeping secrets, Munson?” you tut, gently pushing him with your shoulder. 

Eddie laughs before he speaks, not expecting you to continue this back and forth. The sound of his laugh makes you blush slightly. “You don’t even know.” 

“Are you calling me oblivious? Cause it’s pretty obvious that you are… keeping secrets, I mean.” You’re not exactly sure what you mean by that, but you say it anyway. 

“No, sweetheart, I’m calling you completely and entirely unobservant,” Eddie says, trying to sound as nonchalant as he possibly can, but he loses it and starts laughing when he sees the look on your face. 

“Hey!” you playfully smack him on his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

There’s a moment of silence. “Nothing,” he murmurs as he turns to look at you with his big doe eyes and you swear you can physically feel the air around you shift. You sit up quickly, your back towards Eddie now, and you pray he didn’t catch you blushing. 

“You okay?” He asks, slight concern in his voice. He lifts his hand up, wanting to put it on your shoulder, but drops it even quicker. 

“Yeah, peachy,” you reply sarcastically. You don’t know why but the stress from earlier makes its way back up your neck and combined with the tension you could sense in the room almost makes you shiver even though you feel like you’re on fire. “Just-”

“Stressed?” Your words are cut off by Eddie, who’s still laying on the bed with his eyes stuck to the ceiling. There’s nothing more for you to say, no words, so you only hum in agreement. “Sounds like you really need to relax, maybe get a massage or whatever. Heard that shit helps.” 

You turn your head slightly, not enough to look at his face but enough to see his right hand fiddling with the ripped denim of his jeans. And you don’t know where you get the sudden courage to tease him, but before you can think twice about it, it’s already out. “What, are you offering your services, Munson?” 

The bed moves under you, Eddie propping himself on his elbows. He’s ninety percent sure he just heard you say that and he’s also ninety percent sure you were just joking. 

But that ten percent… it’s enough for him to decide to pretend he knows what he’s doing. He thinks it can’t be that hard, he’s a guitarist after all. 

Being good with his hands and fingers is his speciality. 

“Only today, sweetheart,” he smirks when you turn to look at him, a silent dare glinting in his eyes. “Take it or leave it.” 

You sigh. “Yeah, why not?” Lifting your legs off the floor, you move up the bed, crossing them when you get comfortable. “I’m sure you can’t be that bad.” 

Eddie laughs under his breath, moving to sit behind you. “The real question is how good can I be?” He leans in as he whispers, his breath hitting your shoulder. 

Oh, he’s putting on a show, alright. You smile to yourself and resist the urge to shake your head, but you still feel your heart pick up its pace. 

Then, you feel Eddie move your hair to one side, exposing the skin of your neck and he thanks his lucky stars you can’t see the slight shake in his hands as he puts them on your shoulders. 

Maybe he dug himself a hole with this, suddenly all too aware of everything… the rise of your shoulders as you breathe, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. 

“Stop stalling,” you whisper, immediately feeling his hands move against your shoulders. 

Eddie’s way too gentle at first. The knot in your neck you’ve felt for weeks still present and you feel the dull ache even now. You push your shoulders into his hands just a little, hoping he gets the hint. 

And he definitely does. 

There’s a sudden wave of pleasure as you feel him press into your skin, more determined now. The tense muscles there loosen up one by one as his hands do the work.

Eddie has no idea what he’s doing, but he supposes he’s doing something right judging by the way you’ve relaxed, almost leaning on him. Your breaths are getting deeper, he notices and moves his head to the side, just in time to see your eyes flutter closed. 

He smiles to himself, totally smug. “S’good, hm?” 

You hum, a moan almost escaping your lips as he reaches that sensitive part of your neck. “Um, y-yeah… not bad,” you whisper. 

Your hums of approval become louder the more he touches you. Eddie feels like a stupid teenager, feeling himself getting hard over a massage. It’s probably not the massage that does it for him, but you. It’s you. 

He always thought you were pretty. Pretty hot, actually. But he never had the courage to make a move or just talk to you. The group hangout doesn’t really count, he thinks, you were looking at him funny, probably thinking of him as a freak as everyone else did. 

So he was kinda confused when you showed up at his trailer alone earlier today, even though you were nice to him yesterday. It still doesn’t make sense to him why you’re hanging out with him now, but he doesn’t complain. 

Instead, Eddie decides he might try something… risky, but he wants to know how you’ll react. He wants to see what you’re made of. 

He waits until your eyes flutter closed again, letting his left hand glide slowly down your arm. What you don’t expect is when you feel his lips follow that same path, agonizingly slow, his teeth just barely grazing your skin. 

You open your eyes but don’t dare look at him. Instead, you focus on the curtain dancing against the soft breeze that’s coming through the window. “What - what are you doing?” 

Eddie’s breath hits the back of your neck as he leans in closer. “Helping you relax,” he whispers, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard. “Want me to stop?” 

His soft lips brush against the nape of your neck, making you sigh blissfully, losing yourself in the sudden proximity. 

You press your back into his chest, head tilting to the side to expose more of your neck, a silent plea hidden behind the action.

And he understands it, of course he does, but… “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” He whispers as he leans even closer, the tips of his fingers dancing across your arms making your skin tingle. “Need you to say what you want,” he states and you feel him pull away.

“No,” the words stumble out of your mouth, “don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop.” 

You surprise yourself as realization sets in and even more so when you feel the ache between your thighs. You’re not sure what this means and you definitely don’t wanna try to figure out the consequences now, too far gone to even think about anything else other than Eddie.

Eddie, who is leaving careless kisses down the column of your throat, the back of your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive spot below the side of your jaw and making you gasp. You feel him smile against your skin, his hair tickling your neck. 

“Tell me if you change your mind, yeah?” His voice dips lower and the sound travels straight to your core, a knot beginning to form there.

His palms make their way down, down, down, until they reach your bare thighs. Fingers dance across the denim of your shorts and you feel transfixed by the sight of his hands on you and the cold feel of his rings against your skin. 

Such pretty hands, you can’t get it out of your head. 

Turning to the side, your eyes fall on his pink lips. Your gaze travels until you meet his pretty brown eyes and Eddie looks at you intensely. Your breaths mix together, the tension between the two of you weighing down like a thick blanket, and you let out a shaky breath when you feel Eddie’s fingers dip to the inside of your thighs, playing with the hem of your shorts. 

His lips hover above yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. It’s driving you crazy but at the same time, you love the tension. The ache between your legs becomes almost unbearable. You feel like you’re gonna explode as you squirm, absentmindedly widening your legs even more.

“Tell me what you want,” Eddie says, his knuckles stroking your thighs mindlessly. “Need you to tell me, sweetheart.” 

You almost moan at his words, his husky voice combined with the movement of his fingers dangerously close to your centre driving you wild. “Please, Eddie,” you whine, “please.” 

His movements halt for a split second when you say his name and he realizes it’s the first time you’ve ever said it. And he loves the sound of it coming out of your mouth, all breathy and strained. He wants to hear it again and again and again until you’re unable to say anything else.

“Hm?” Eddie leaves a trail of kisses under your jaw and nudges his nose against it to tilt your head back a bit, his hand now playing with the button of your shorts. “What’s got you all worked up?” 

A huff leaves your lips. He’s teasing, you know he is, but you still oblige. “Want you to touch me,” you whisper rapidly, feeling your cheeks redden because you realize you’ve never been vocal about something you wanted until now.  

“These have to go off then,” he says, his hot breath hitting your skin as he taps his finger against your jeans, and you slide them down your legs. Eddie leans over your shoulder, eyes racking over your thighs and lingering on your panties. He turns to you, fingers playing with the little bow on them, and smirks. “Cute.” 

You look at him, opening your mouth to say something but only a moan comes out when you feel him breach the seam of your underwear and drag a finger through your slick folds. Eddie shifts behind you, trying to give himself some relief from how hard he is already, but all he really wants to do right now is watch you unravel.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re already wet,” he says, sounding like he isn’t even paying attention to the words tumbling out his mouth, just saying whatever filthy thought crosses his mind. Suddenly, he removes his hand from between your legs. “Tell me what you like, I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Eddie waits for your answer, nudging your chin with his nose softly, but you’re speechless. You don’t know what to say, what answer to give him because you don’t even know the answer yourself. 

You’ve had some sexual experience, but it was never like this… it was never about you and what you liked. “I, uh…,” you start to say, insecurity flooding your nerves. “I don’t really know.” 

Eddie is now turning toward you completely, making you look at him only to find him frowning. “What do you mean you don’t know?” He’s asking, genuinely confused.

Shyness starts to creep in as you look down at your hands in your lap, thighs now squeezed together because of the ache that’s still there. “No one’s ever asked me that before.” 

You sneak a look at him, seeing his expression fall with a sigh. There’s a few moments of silence before you feel him moving back to where he was behind you and then he’s encouraging you to lean into him once more. He slides his hands down to grab your thighs, spreading them open gently and he rests his mouth near your ear. “Can I help you figure it out then? Figure out what you like?” 

“Yes,” you reply in a faint whisper. 

Your answer has Eddie taking your hand and moving it down with his own, placing them between your legs and moving his fingers to rest against your clit. “I want you to take my hand and show me what feels best when you touch yourself,” he lifts his lips to your ear, the seductive tone of his voice making you feel something you’ve never felt before. “Put your hand on top of mine and move my fingers, do whatever you like, sweetheart.” 

He’s not moving his hand, your own resting atop of his and you swear you can feel your head spinning from the whole ordeal. Your cheeks redden at his words, thankful he can’t fully see you. “Eddie, I’m not sure I can-” 

“Just close your eyes and do what feels good. S’okay,” he coos. “Everything’s up to you.” Eddie starts kissing down your neck again, dragging his warm, slick tongue up your neck to your jaw and the ache between your legs is getting even worse. “Feels pretty nice to know I turn you on, though – enjoy my hands on you that much, do you?” 

Oh, he’s so smug about this, you can hear it in the tone of his voice. You’re huffing out shallow breaths as you struggle to keep your hips still and, fuck, you’re really about to do this. 

In a split second, you decide to do what he said and press his fingers against your clit with your hand. When you start to move his fingertips in slow circles, a whine escapes your lips at the relief.

Eddie’s lips pull into a smile against your neck, and then he drags them up to the shell of your ear. “There she is,” he hums as you circle your hips against his fingers. “Rub that pretty little clit of yours with my fingers, be a good girl, yeah?” You moan at his words and the feeling spreads through your body like every nerve ending is screaming. 

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl. 

His last words replay like a broken record in your head. “You like that, don’t you?” Eddie coos, his breathing getting heavier by the second. “Didn’t think you could get even wetter, you’re making a mess of my fingers, sweetheart.” 

Your mouth hangs open as a deep moan floats out of you, the only response you’re capable of as you work his fingers faster, focusing on the pressure and speed you know will help the aching knot in your stomach. 

Eddie is losing his mind over what’s happening. Never in a million years he thought you’d be here in his bed with your legs spread just for him. He’s having a hard time wrapping his mind around it, savouring every moan that escapes your lips, trying to memorize the way your slick cunt feels against his fingers… He’s not sure when he’ll get the chance to see you like this again, if ever, so he makes the most of it. 

He revels in the pretty noises you’re making, your moans and whimpers going straight to his cock and he can’t remember the last time he was this worked up. 

Eddie’s fingers keep up the rhythm you have going, your teeth biting down on your lip as you circle your hips against his hand mindlessly. You feel yourself getting closer to that mind-numbing feeling that’s making your legs start to tremble. 

You drop your hand from his, unable to keep it there anymore and you grip the sheets of his bed, your nails digging into the mattress as Eddie continues with the same motions you showed him. His hips roll up against you, feeling how hard he is and you’re relishing in how incredible it all feels. 

He ghosts his fingers lower, gathering the wetness around your entrance, making you gasp just as a low, relieved grunt rumbles out of him when his fingers slide back up to your clit. Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, he curses loudly, your slick coating his pretty fingers. “God, feels so perfect – so fucking wet.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, breath hitching in your throat when the pressure in your stomach starts feeling like it could burst at any minute. “Don’t stop, please, Eddie.” 

He feels his cock twitch in his jeans when he hears you moan his name obscenely. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry. Fucking soaking my fingers, can you feel it? Feel what you do to me?” Eddie breathes against your ear, his words slow and filthy enough from his tone, as he thrusts his centre against you. 

And, fuck, if that doesn’t bring you closer to the edge then the inexplicable things he does with his hands and words will. “Please, please, I need you to go faster,” you beg, sounding almost incoherent. “It feels so good, I’m-” 

A choked moan leaves your throat, cutting you off. Eddie moves his face closer to yours, his lips hovering above yours, close, so close, and you feel his fingers quicken against your clit. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart, hm? Tell me.”

Eddie continues to grind his hips against you, his breathing getting heavier and the movement practically involuntarily as he tries to come to his senses. You’re making it damn hard for him, though, the sensual noises leaving your lips going straight to his cock and he’s trying so hard not to cum in his pants. 

“Yes, yes, I’m close, Eddie,” you whimper, biting down hard on your lip and closing your eyes shut, teetering on the edge. 

Eddie latches onto your neck, sucking on that sweet spot he found earlier that makes you gasp, and his fingers apply more pressure against your clit, keeping up the same fast pace that starts sending shockwaves through your body. “Wanna hear you come, lovely girl,” he practically moans against your neck and the sound sends you over the edge.

It feels like floating up to heaven and crashing down to fucking hell. Like you’re losing your grasp on reality and, yet, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry out a chant of profanities, not even aware of what you’re saying. The pressure inside of you explodes and your whole body tenses, your head slumping back against his chest. 

Your mind is a quiet bliss now, a polar opposite to what it usually is — a million thoughts chasing each other relentlessly. And now it’s peaceful, all thanks to Eddie.

His fingers continue to drag the feeling out, pulling high-pitched whimpers and strangled moans out of your chest. He’s melting your fucking senses with those hands and that mouth of his. “There you go, good girl,” his hot breath hits your skin and you jolt your hips away when you become too sensitive. 

He’s not letting you go so easily, though, his hand cupping your cunt and pulling you even closer to him. It’s as if he’s trying to soothe the feeling while your legs still tremble from, you think, the best orgasm you’ve ever had. 

His hard cock is still pressing into your back, making you turn to him slowly, glancing down at the bulge of his jeans. Eddie follows your gaze and smiles smugly when your eyes meet. “Still stressed?” he asks almost out of breath, his voice dropped to a deep octave. 

You can’t help but smile back, looking down and thinking how contagious his own smile is. “I don’t think I am,” you reply, your voice soft and low as you speak. 

You’re thinking about returning the favour, it’s only fair now. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hear him unravel just as much as he wanted to hear you. 

But, your thoughts are soon interrupted by the sound of a car pulling in front of Eddie’s trailer and you don’t have to think twice about who it is. Shit. 

Eddie peeks through his window. “It’s Nancy,” he breathes out, “and Steve, and Robin.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you get off the bed and look for your panties, but they’re nowhere to be found so you put on your shorts quickly. Eddie watches with amusement written over his face, seemingly unfazed. “It’s not funny, Munson, they can’t know about this,” you say truthfully. 

The last thing you need right now is Nancy and Robin thinking you’ve got a thing for Eddie Munson. Which you definitely don’t. You don’t have time for silly crushes and this thing with Eddie Munson wasn’t a crush.

Right? 

“Promise me?” you ask, your voice shaking a bit. You’re already standing in the hallway, thinking you’ll forget about what just happened the more distance you put between yourself and his room. 

But deep down you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. How could you ever forget about the way he made you feel not even five minutes ago?

Eddie didn’t have a problem with keeping this a secret. The less people know about him, the better. Less of a chance they’ll have something to use against him, he thought. Not that your friends ever would, but this wasn’t their business, anyway. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wanna hear you moan his name over and over again as you came, but he’ll just have to accept this might be the only time he got to experience it. 

And he’s damn glad he did. 

He makes a motion over his chest as he smirks. “Cross my heart. Our secret,” he agrees. “Can you close the door now and let them in? I just need a minute.”

You glance down, the bulge in his jeans still evident. “Right,” you nod, closing the door of his room and moving to open the ones of the trailer, Robin standing on the other side. 

“Hey, you’re already here!” 

• • •

The five of you spend the afternoon passing around joints and telling funny stories, laughing uncontrollably most of the time. 

You’re losing it when Steve talks about an uncomfortable incident with Dustin and his mother, even more so when Robin tries to reenact the whole scene. There are moments like these that make your heart tighten in your chest, just the thought that you won’t see them for a while making you wince under your breath.

You don’t speak to Eddie directly for the rest of the night – you can barely look at him without blushing wildly. Thank god it’s hot inside the trailer, at least you have something to blame that on. Eddie catches your gaze once, twice, and every other time you dare glance at him. 

A smug smile plays on his lips most of the time and you want nothing more than to wipe it off, watch his mouth hang open as he moans when he feels your lips around his dick and-

Whoa, you’re getting ahead of yourself, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks again as you turn your head away from him, hiding from his gaze. It’s probably just the weed, you think, it’ll all be hilarious when you wake up tomorrow morning and head back to campus. 

It was all just a one time thing – a heat of the moment sort of situation and nothing more. He just wanted to help you and that was it. The two of you are just friends and that can’t happen again. It would complicate things and it’s not like you have the time for complications right now. 

And that’s what you’re telling Eddie as you hug him goodbye – Nancy, Steve and Robin already walking to the car. You don’t see his face as those words leave you and you think that’s for the best, otherwise, you’d probably be second-guessing them. You make it quick, hands unwrapping from him swiftly, the expression on his face stoic as it comes into view. 

“Yeah, of course,” he says with a forced smile, but you don’t notice that. “Secret’s safe with me. Good luck with exams and shit.”

Eddie closes the door and then you’re walking to the car. You should feel relieved he agreed with you, at ease since it won’t be a problem and won’t compromise your new friendship. A frown overtakes your features as you get into the backseat, but you’re thankful for the darkness of the night that hides it from your friends. “Everything okay? Did you say goodbye?” Nancy asks as she drives away from Eddie’s trailer. 

“Yeah, I did. Everything’s fine.” 

In your mind, you're almost certain it's true, but then – why do you feel like you’ve just told the biggest lie you could imagine? 

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed it, i’d appreciate it if you left a comment or reblogged <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #st4

[pinchinschlimbah]

tysm for ur text post about noel... I'm seeing SO many people immediately hating on him and it's exhausting. he's not usually the type of person to speak up about things like this really (at least from what I've seen) so I doubt he's gonna say anything, but his comments on insta are now turned off/limited so its safe to say he knows what's happening and is probably horrified :/

Yes of course! Like I said in my previous post, I think it's incredibly dangerous to start condemning people purely by association and vague connections you've made in your own head without having any actual substantial evidence. I'm not going to assume Noel's current thoughts on the matter as much as I hope that he is indeed horrified, but I do know that it's fairly par for the course to close off public lines of communication and take longer than most would expect to formulate an official statement on something as sensitive as this because to do it right one should be consulting with their lawyers and agents and other knowledgeable people to make sure the statement is as airtight and well-informed as possible without room for further misinterpretation or complicating any possible legal endeavors at play, so it is absolutely not evidence of guilt that he hasn't said anything yet. As much as it would be nice to see him formally denounce Russell and support the victims, I agree with you that it's definitely not guaranteed and we shouldn't be holding our breath since he's generally such an offline and private person with very good reasons for mistrusting the tabloids still looking to demonize him whenever possible, and if he does end up not saying anything there's a million other reasons besides him being complicit as to why he did not speak out. And yeah, people assuming that the comments being turned off means he's definitely hiding something is absurd. First of all I think it's worth noting that most celebrities don't have exclusive access to their social medias and often have whole teams helping them run things because they themselves have better things to do, so it's very possible the comments being shut off wasn't even done or directed by Noel himself. Second, it would be extremely unwise right now for him to start responding off the cuff to random people in the comments just because they demand it. And third, my initial thought when I heard about it was well wouldn't anyone turn the comments off if they were being bombarded with harassment lobbing horrible accusations at them and pressuring them to speak publicly about something before they were ready? But hearing from multiple people that the comments were shut off after Russell's supporters started flooding the posts arguing Russell's innocence makes it make even more sense why the shutoff was done and less evidence of guilt. Also while I'm here something else I wanted to speak on is that since my previous post, a clip from BFQ 2007 has been going viral and reported on by tabloids as ~evidence~ of Noel being involved because rape jokes were being made that involved him, even though the only thing Noel says in the clip is "how dare you, we're not rapists" in response to Jonathan deciding for Lily that she needed to be forcibly kept away from Noel and Russell. (and if I may editorialize for a moment, news sources reported on Lily looking uncomfortable in the clip as a condemnation of Russell and Noel, but personally I think she seems more annoyed that Jonathan has declared this decision for her rather than letting her decide what she felt comfortable with, especially since later in the show she giddily brings up crimping and is clearly somewhat of a Boosh fan.) I hate to pull out the "it was a different time" excuse but I need y'all to remember or understand what things were like back then for context of what was going on there. Me Too hadn't happened yet and actual accusations of sexual misconduct were generally spread in whispers and kept pretty hush hush, it was unusual for such things to be made super public because public blame was much more likely to fall on the accuser than the accused. Since the recent accusations have come out, multiple people close to Russell at the time have gone on record as saying that while they were well aware of the scope of Russell's aggressive sexuality, they had no idea at the time that it was veering into nonconsensual behavior and were horrified to find out.

Rape jokes were, unfortunately, very common at that point, with the word "rape" being used pretty flippantly and not always accurately to how serious of an act the word is meant to convey. The push to eradicate rape jokes from comedy didn't start until several years later, my memory says somewhere around 2010-11? And at the time, "slut" (and similar terms) was one of the worst things you could call someone and promiscuity was highly demonized in popular culture. Again, the concept of "slut shaming" and push to normalize safe and consensual promiscuity didn't come up in popular culture until several years later. So what I see in that clip is Noel and Russell, who were both known for being sluts at that time, being demonized for that behavior (which was well known and well documented in the documentary) with what was meant to be a lighthearted joke that they wouldn't be able to help themselves around Lily, and Noel's internal thought process at that point was most likely something like "Well, I'm a slut who's been demonized for it but I'm not a predator, so I assume the same is true for Russell." I don't believe this clip shows any reasonable guilt or association on Noel's part.

I understand the impulse to not want to support anyone who's done anything terrible, but if we're deeming people guilty by association so anyone who's ever worked or been friends with someone who did something bad is also bad just purely by that association with no other hard evidence, soon you'll have boxed yourself into a corner of having nothing that's safe to enjoy or interact with, and that's no way to live. Like I said previously I'm fully ready to jump ship if actual problems directly involving Noel do arise, but for the moment I do believe the panic and vitriol towards him is unjustified and I'll be continuing business as usual until further notice.

#shouts into void #asks #long post

[thewritingofspencerrose]

To Be Loved | Freefall: A Series

Charles Leclerc x Lynnleigh Earnhardt

*This does not fall into the Freefall timeline*

"Charles, I'm not sure this is a good idea..." I mumble, glancing over the building he has just pulled up outside of.

"It'll be fine," Is his assurance, putting the car in park and glancing over the console. "The team suggested this as a Valentine's day plan because it'll look best for both of us. NASCAR princess and F1 driver hit the go-kart track for Valentines? You have to admit it was brilliant."

"Yeah, yeah, it's a great place to be, I just feel bad I'm taking up your day," I can't help but mumble, glancing up from my hands to find his eyes hidden by his sunglasses.

"Mon cher," He says at the same quiet volume. "You're not taking up my day. We're going to have a great time racing where I'll beat you, and then we will grab dinner and be all set," Is the assurance I receive, him smiling slightly. "I got you something."

Now that makes my brows furrow. "What? I thought we agreed no gifts Charlie, we're not even really dating."

"Chut maintenant (hush now)," He tsks, leaning into the back and pulling out a bouquet of flowers, all a shade of red.

"Oh Charles," I can't help but hum in appreciation. "Thank you, these are gorgeous," I thank, leaning over to kiss his cheek. His cheeks tinge pink, smile never leaving as he just nods.

"You can leave them in here, they should be alright," and I trust him on this. We're just outside of Monaco, this is his home, not my own, so I tuck the flowers by my feet, suddenly feeling a lot better about spending the global day of love with my for-show boyfriend. "Are we ready to go?"

"Yeah, I think you're right, this will be fun," I relent, hand on the door.

"Do not think about it, I will be getting your door," Ever the gentleman scolds, flying out of the car and around to my door, pulling it open. "Mon cher."

"Why thank you," I can't help but laugh, taking his outstretched hand into my own. Yet he doesn't let go once I'm safely out of the car, door closed. He keeps my hand in his own, cool metal of his rings against my fingers as we enter the track.

___________________________________________

"You told me you have never been karting before, menteur (you liar)!" Charles yells, throwing off his helmet and not even bothering to fix where his hair is sticking in a million directions.

"I never said that! Not once!" I can't help but laugh in return setting my helmet on top of my kart and reaching up to run my hands through his hair. "You look like you just ran through a wind tunnel Char," I continue laughing, his next thought cutting off in his throat.

He's just staring at me, hair slightly better but still not his usual stylish version of messy. I begin to move my hands back to my own sides, but managing to even move them away from his shoulders proves impossible when his hands shoot up to stop mine.

"Charlie?"

"I- that felt really nice," Is his mumbled response, a dopey smile on his lips, bringing one to my own.

"I'm glad," Is my grinned response, his arms hands patting mine to stay where my they have moved on his neck, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me into his body.

His lips meet my head, the most appropriate gesture he could have done given the families filing in to begin their own sessions.

Pulling back only slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet my own. "Ready for dinner?"

"Definitely," I can't help but giggle. "I worked up an appetite kicking your ass. Definitely deserve the dinner of a winner."

I don't think I've witnessed his agile body move any fast than in this moment, pulling back from me looking as though I've slapped him across the face.

"Je suis déjà le gagnant, mon cher (I am already the winner, mon cher)."

I don't think we're acting anymore.

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 #charles leclerc x oc #valentines day #romance #To Be Loved Valentines Special

[ask-the-vocafamilies]

Kaito: Ahaha... Our first kiss, huh?

Miku: W-Well... It’s not as we... expected it to happen.

Kaito: Oh yeah... I’ll tell you about it.

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.

.

KAIMIKU - FIRST KISS

When Kaito and Miku were still boyfriend and girlfried, Kaito is the affectionate one between them. He's always making sure that Miku knows that he loves her with his hugs, words, etc. Further in their relationship, Kaito starts to give cheek kisses to Miku. Sometimes when they meet each other, or when they're parting, but always after a recording session together. But ONLY if it’s a private recording session in the studio of what the vocas called their “Clubhouse”, which is the house the six of them once lived together. After a finished session, Kaito would give Miku a kiss on the cheek. Miku's always gets embarrassed every time he does that, but also because it's plain to see by the others outside the recording room, behind the glass, and they'd tease them about it.

One day, after a finished recording session, Miku asks Kaito if he'd like to go to the usual ice cream store they regularly visit. When she faces him to ask him about it, Kaito already goes in for the cheek kiss. He missed her cheek, instead he kissed her on the lips. It took them a few seconds to process the moment, and they're both blushing madly after realizing what just happened.

They just did their first kiss.

Miku was covering her face with the lyrics sheet. If it weren't because of the lyrics sheet covering her face, the others would be able to see her red face, even redder than Meiko's hair. Miku’s face gets redder and redder people may think she’s overheating.. Kaito is touching his lips with his finger, with millions of things on his mind. His mind is clouded and foggy with thoughts.

The others' reaction at the other side of the room varies. Rin's clearly fangirling, Len's quiet in his place before giving a teasing smirk while pointing at them, Meiko's undoubtedly mouthing teases, and Luka's covering her mouth in surprise. after they got out the recording room, the others don't waste any time to immediately shower them with teases.

After the recording session, at the living room, they sit on the sofa, not saying a word to each other, Until Kaito breaks the silence after some time

Kaito: So...  That was our first kiss...

Miku: ...Y-yes...

Kaito: I'm still kind of surprised

Miku: M-me too, it's unexpected

Miku: Yeah...

Miku: Still...  It was... Nice

Kaito: You like it?

Miku: Mhm

Kaito: It's kind of blows that our first kiss is accidental though...

Miku: Y-yeah..

Kaito: Or should I say it sucks because it’s a kiss? (smirks)

Miku: H-Hush!

Miku’s face went red yet again. She lightly tap Kaito on the shoulder, scolding him for what he said. Kaito chuckles in response to her reaction.

...

...

Miku: ...D-Do you want to... try again?

Kaito: Eh?

Miku: You know… Sice it was accidental, maybe we can do it properly this time. Unless you don't want to-

Kaito: Nonono! I want to, I really want to kiss you again!

Kaito realizes what he said, and now it’s his time to blush

Kaito: U-Um… S-Sorry… That came out of the left field…

Miku: It- It’s okay…

The two went silent for a moment. Until yet again, Kaito break the silence

Kaito: …S-So... Again?

Miku: Y-Yes… Let’s…

And so, they face each other, readying their heart, their faces grow closer, slowly closing the gap between them, their lips almost touching...

*FLASH

Rin: Ah, the flash is still on...

Rin closes the door slowly, and run away, before Kaito and Miku are aware of what she just did.

Oh, They're aware, alright…

Kaito and Miku: RIIIIINNNNNN!!!!!!

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.

.

((This just in, famous singer Kagamine Rin has been seen running while being chased by fellow singer, Shione Kaito and Hatsune Miku around the neighborhood.))

#kaimiku #kaito #hatsune miku

[ginnyrules27]

Got any unused scenes to snippet or back burner projects/unfinished or unrealized one shots?

Hmm...I got a couple of back-burner projects that I began writing a while back. I should have some snippet there lol :D

Mirabel shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that. She only wanted to know why she didn’t get a gift. 

Did she do something wrong? Was it because she wiped her hands on her dress? Camilo didn’t wipe his hands so did she wipe off the magic of the candle? 

But no one would say what she did wrong. All papa had said was that it wasn’t her fault and that the family still loved her, gift or no gift. 

But if that was the case, they’d be here with her in the nursery. Isa would make all sorts of pretty flowers bloom and Dolores would make her giggle by telling her what one of the neighbors did and Lusia would take her on a flight by lifting her bed up with Mirabel in it and walking around the casita. 

-Untitled Encanto/Descendants crossover (currently 466 words)

“A room full of royals looking their nose down at us because our dad’s a basketball coach and our mom’s a vice principal and we live in Wisconsin,” Maddie finished. “Does not sound like my idea of a good time. Though I do have to wonder why mom and dad didn’t send us to Auradon Prep.” 

“Because they don’t have a basketball program and I’m not losing my star player for no reason!” Their dad’s voice called from the kitchen. 

“Knew they were eavesdropping on us,” the other boy in the room chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s better than them calling a family meeting, right Joey?” Maddie asked. 

“Ooh, good point.” 

Liv rolled her eyes. “Will you two hush?! The royal carriage is going to be seen any moment!” 

“Yeah…you do know Prince Ben is a: completely out of your league and b: has a girlfriend right?” Maddie asked. 

“I don’t care about him! I want to see what gown his new girlfriend’s going to be wearing! Think about it Maddie, we’re about to be shown what the kids of the Isle wear for formal events, nothing like this has ever been done before!” Liv squealed before groaning. “Oh I wish we were there!” 

“So you’ve said, about a million times,” Maddie sighed as she tossed a basketball up and down. “Liv, when will you give up this dream about attending royal events? I mean yeah you were on Sing it Loud—.” 

-Untitled Liv and Maddie/Descendants crossover (currently 1210 words)

Morgan, though, had insisted that the doctor was ‘Daddy’s twin’ as only a four-year-old could reason. So Robert had gone to the hospital and met with the Dr. Derek Shepherd and explained what was happening. Derek had, of course, agreed to a DNA test to answer the question if they were twins; never even batting an eye that the request seemed to come from a four-year-old. 

After a few weeks waiting for the results, they were both stunned to find that Morgan had been right—Robert and Derek were twins. 

Of course, Derek had immediately called his mother to ask how he had a long lost twin brother also living in New York City. Mrs. Shepherd had seemed reluctant but had finally admitted the truth. That when Derek was born, he’d been born a twin. However at the time, they couldn’t afford five children and the Phillip family had been friends of their’s however they couldn’t conceive a chid. So while they were loathed to do it, to separate the twin boys, Carolyn Shepherd and her husband had to make the choice of what was best for Robert, Derek, and their girls. 

It had taken a bit of getting used to, the idea that he had a family in the city that he never knew about, but Robert and Derek had quickly developed a relationship once the awkward phase was done. 

-Untitled Enchanted/Grey's Anatomy fanfiction (currently 2316 words)

And still suppressing the urge to write on the backburner either the 911/Descendants crossover or a Grey's Anatomy/Descendants crossover...or both if it's in some weird universe where no one from the Isle has to tell Beast and Belle what's going on on the Isle and the team from Grey's is sent to set up the hospital with the 118/126 acting as muscle for the doctors (Grey's is on ABC which is owned by Disney so it can still be in universe...and China's sister is on 911: Lone Star so I'm counting that as part of the Descendants universe. Also Disney owns Fox now so there's that)

#responding to ask box #ask box #answering ask box

[hinatastinygiant]

Chapter Twenty

Lavender

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

previous | next | black canary

You step into the passenger seat of Oikawa's car and allow him to drive you off without any more discussion about where you're going. However, it isn't long until you arrive at a small restaurant only a few blocks away.

"I didn't want to take you anywhere too far or else your bodyguard might really freak out if you're past your curfew," Oikawa jokes.

"No doubt about that," you agree with a sigh. "I'm sorry about before, I don't know what got into him. I guess it's just been a long day, you know?"

"I get it. You don't have to apologize or explain anything to me. Osamu was a great man and his disappearance has been hard on all of us. That being said, I know it's been especially rough on you both."

"It has," you nod as you think about the fight you just had at the front door. "I just wish we had answers."

"We all do," he sighs. "By the way, you don't mind this, do you? Because I don't want to force you into doing something you don't want. Would you like me to bring you back?"

"No, I want to be here," you smile, "and not just to spite Atsumu, either."

"You two have spent a lot of time together, yeah?" he then asks. "Do you get along well?"

"Yeah, we do. Pretty well most times," you share.

"Do you think you might have feelings for Atsumu?" he then continues to ask a bit hesitantly now.

"No, it's like I was just telling Aoi, it's really not like that at all," you say defensively. Thank god Oikawa isn't some kind of detective or he'd see right through you.

"So I'm not the only one who thought that..."

"I mean I can see why, but really, we're just friends," you insist.

"Okay because to be honest, I would like to think of our little outing tonight as a date if it isn't too soon..."

"A date?" you repeat. "Well, I suppose it would be a good way to take my mind off of everything else. So, sure. It's a date."

"Great, now come. Let's go inside before they close," he grins.

The two of you go inside for some Shabu Shabu. Oikawa is kind the whole time, showing great sympathy for your situation. You easily let down your guard and enjoy your night when you finally forget about all the other drama in your world.

"Did you know that Shabu Shabu is named that way after the sound the food makes in the hot pot?" he asks you once the food arrives.

"No, not at all," you laugh. "But I can totally hear that now!"

After you enjoy your meal with Oikawa, you open up about how you've been spending your time with Bokuto and Daichi and, more importantly, why. Oikawa listens carefully to your story about Kuroko and Akashi, agreeing that he doesn't think they're holding Osamu hostage, but that he does think they'll follow through with their threat.

"If you ever need more money you could help Iwaizumi and me," he offers kindly. "Most of the contracts we get are for millions, if not a billion yen at a time."

"Contracts? Like, for what?" you ask unsure if you really want to know.

"For murders," he says in a hushed voice as he leans in closer to you. You watch his eyes sparkle as the words spill from his lips. For a moment, he looks more like a psychopath than a friend offering to help. "You'd keep whatever you earn, of course."

"I don't know..." you admit a bit cautiously after seeing this new side of him. " After everything with Osamu, how could I possibly take someone's life? Someone who's a brother, a friend, a lover?" You then gasp at a new thought that suddenly pops into your mind. "What if that's what happened to Osamu? It'd make sense because of what we do... There could be ones out for you and me, too!"

"You act as though you just realized what being in the Yakuza means, Y/N," he chuckles. "Though I personally doubt that is what happened to Osamu, the reality is that it is possible."

"You doubt it? Well what do you think happened to him then since you're so opinionated?" you begin to talk a bit louder in the restaurant.

"Shh, keep your voice hushed before someone's ears catch onto something they shouldn't hear. I don't know what happened to Osamu, but I can assure you that nobody was out to get him. He was a well-liked guy, you know that don't you?"

"Of course I do," you reply as you sit up a bit straighter in your chair. "I just don't know what to think anymore," you sigh.

"I understand," he nods. "How about we make our own deal instead then, hm?"

"Our own deal?" you repeat.

Just then, the waiter comes to pick up your plates and leave the check. Oikawa opens his wallet and pulls out a hundred to place on the table. "Let's go for a walk."

The two of you thank the staff on your way out and walk through the parking lot, past Oikawa's car, and over to a bench nearest a small woods.

"Are you going to tell me what you mean before?" you ask as he sits and gets himself comfortable on the bench.

Oikawa pats the seat beside him and smiles, hoping you'll sit. However, you keep firm ground with your spot in front of him.

"Suit yourself," he sighs as he sinks into his spot. "The deal I'm offering is simple. Since you don't want to work with me, I'm offering an arrangement instead. You've got one week left to collect the money from Kuroko. If you don't get the money in time, I'll do you a favor. Before Kuroko's group strikes, I'll shoot him down first. What do you think?"

"You mean, kill them before they kill us?" you ask for clarification.

"Correct. Are you in?"

"Are you trying to say you don't think I'll be able to come up with the money?" you then ask him.

"It has nothing to do with your ability to get the money. I'm just saying I'll have your back in case anything goes wrong," he explains.

"And then what?" you continue, "If you kill Kuroko, what will you ask from me in return?"

"Simple. Just the money you had collected in anticipation to give to Kuroko. That's all, nothing else," he nods reassuringly.

"Okay then," you sigh. "If I don't come up with the money Kuroko wants, I'll give what I have to you in exchange for his life."

"Well then!" his voice booms as he jumps to stand right in front of your face. "We've got ourselves a deal. Ready to go back home?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I think I need to get some sleep."

"I'm sure you do," he agrees. "We all do."

previous | next | black canary

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Taglist: @isentsworld @allie-mcginn

#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x y/n #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu self insert #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu #y/n #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #x fem!reader #hinatastinygiant #fanfiction #fanfiction series #ao3 #black canary

[hoebaring]

Open Books (43) | Kim Namjoon

An unpredicted switch of journals brings two strangers close. Strangers with similarly perturbing experiences, and beautifully healing souls. Abused, bullied, and traumatized, they help each other, and those around them break away from similar experiences, heal and grow gracefully. With thoughtful emotions, and ever growing minds, Y/n and Namjoon are delicate heroes.

They understand the best in each other, and the worst, like open books.

Tags/Warnings :- Child abuse, domestic violence, traumatized characters, bullying, self harm, mentions of toxic relationships, angst. I know it's dark but trust me it gets better! namjoonXreader, Namjoon and Y/n, A slow burn romance, fluff, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, self love, healing, etc.

Cross posted on Wattpad

Written by Author G

Word Count :- 900 words

Additional Warnings:- OMFG THEY KISS Y'ALL!!

Masterlist   Previously  Next

~Peaceful Fireworks & Conscious Chaos~

"Just a few more steps" Namjoon whispers so as to not surprise the clumsy girl into losing her balance as his hands cover the warmth of her eyes, guiding her up the stairs carefully, although Y/n doesn't seem to trust him to be careful enough because she voices out an empty threat.

"I swear to god Namjoon if I fall, I'm gonna-"

Before she can complete her sentence, Namjoon withdraws his hand, revealing to her the usual clock tower they spend their time in.

The view, however, is absolutely breathtaking. So breathtaking, that she has to gasp in order to breathe, the crisp air making her throat itch slightly, but, she couldn't care less about it.

Y/n has been here many a time before, but, she's never felt like the view was enough to knock the breath out of her.

The same can't be said this time.

Maybe it's because of the lovely platter of food, because, come on, we all know how lovely food is! Maybe it's because of the warm glow of the candles laid out on the small wooden table that sits on a small, pastel colored checked mat right next to the off white lilies which serve to be a beautiful contrast to the rest of the flowery plants that climb their way around the pillars of the small verandah.

Or maybe, it's because of how sweet and happy Namjoon looks as he stands with a huge smile, the cute dimples that she simply adores peeking out as if to say hi, the hum of the trees swaying along to the wind serving as the perfect background music.

"Surprise!" Namjoon laughs as he walks towards her, taking her hands in his as he gently pushes her to sit down on the mat whilst she is still lost in the haze of, well, like Namjoon said, surprise.

"It's all so beautiful Joon. What's all of this for?" she responds, her voice not allowing her to speak in anything more than a whisper.

"For you, Ms. Oxford" He jokes, to which she snorts, complaining about how lame that was, laughing along with him nevertheless.

"First Bo-ra, and now you? I can't take anymore of these surprises. My heart! It's too delicate" She exaggerates, to which she herself cringes, immediately apologizing with a laugh.

"So, you excited?" he asks, sitting down right next to her once she asks him to, tugging on his hand in the process.

"Yeah! I am! With you guys signing the contract for the band soon, and with the seminar ahead, I feel like things are finally headed towards someplace good."

The loud ticking of their hearts sounds like that of a clock in an awfully quiet room, not a single soul moving as they hold their breath, neither of them knowing what they should do.

"Yeah, me too.." Namjoon replies as time seems to stop when he stares into her eyes, fully aware of their close proximity, and yet, neither of them can move away.

They don't want to.

All they know, is that they don't want this moment to get ruined.

It feels like millions of years have passed by before one of them makes a move.

Namjoon places a hand on her face gently before speaking in nothing more than a hushed whisper, as if even the slightest rash move might break, and ruin the fragile moment.

"May I?"

If Y/n wasn't paying complete attention to the moment, to him, she wouldn't have heard him.

"Yes"

The moment his lips meet hers, the time that seemed to stop, restarts, like as though it was this moment that the very universe waited for when it decided to halt something as essential as time.

It is nothing like she imagined it would be. There were no fireworks or sparks flying around in the air, there was no cheery chaos in the back of her mind. No. In fact, her mind was devoid of anything close to disbelief or surprise. She is swept away in the moment, fully conscious of it. Fully conscious, and consequently, at peace.

Namjoon, on the other hand, is enthralled by the cheery chaos in his head. The imaginary fireworks in the air spark a rush of adrenaline in him as he lets himself get swept away in the moment, moving at complete instinct, not at all conscious of what's happening as his mind is in a joyful haze.

Once they pull away, they can't do anything but become lost in the sparkle that buzzes dimly in the other's eyes, the tints of red that paint their smiling faces nothing in comparision to how much their minds are blushing.

The silence that follows after this, as usual, isn't awkward at all, because, while Y/n is preoccupied with the peaceful consciousness of her mind, Namjoon is busy with the cheery chaos and fireworks.

This is them, through and through, peaceful fireworks, conscious chaos and all.

#openbooks #fluff #angst #namjoon x y/n #childabuse #namjoon x reader #selflove #namjoonff #healing #domesticviolence #slowburnnamjoon #slow burn #friends to lovers #slowburn!au #bangtanff #bangtanfanfic #fic #bangtanfic #namjoon #happybirthdaynamjoon! #namjoonday #open books

[liminalhollow]

Hey I’m gonna ramble about clones.

Something that’s always bothered me about Kindred Spirits is the clones (minus Dani) were canonically considered “mindless.”

“But you’re not mindless like those other clones.” 

They obviously wrote that in to hand-wave the moral dilemma it would’ve created. Because, y’know, Danny straight-up kills them.

I mean, I get it. Can’t have that in a kid’s show. Especially not with one-off characters they weren’t planning on using ever again. Writing them off as mindless monsters was an easy way to kill them off while keeping the hero protagonist’s hands clean. Just trying to keep the episode self-contained and simple.

But, I, in fact, do not vibe with this.

First of all, the hand-wave didn’t work for me. I'm sure it was meant to come off as “he ‘sorta killed’ someone but it’s okay because they weren’t Real People,” but instead it felt more like “he killed someone and doesn’t care because he compartmentalized it.” Danny’s hands: decidedly not clean.

And second, they didn’t really strike me as mindless. They’re clearly able to do things like follow orders from Vlad, strategize in a fight, and generally seemed capable of reacting to their surroundings and thinking about what they’re doing. They even speak a little. I’m not seeing the mindlessness here.

The only thing about them that reads as “mindless” to me is the cool as fuck sound design they were given. They did a lot of growling, roaring, screeching, and the like. (Especially the bedsheet/skeleton clone.) But that’s not mindless, just monstrous. Being scary and threatening and ghostly doesn’t mean they don’t have thoughts and feelings. Yeah they’re violent, but all Danny’s enemies are violent and Danny himself gets into a fistfight like twice an episode.

Also, look:

The tiny clone, after he overshadowed Danny.

The prime/perfect clone. (He was probably intended to be read as sapient anyway, but he deserves a mention.)

Look at their faces. Those are hearts and souls right there.

Anyway let Danny care about his clones.

#Danny Phantom #Kindred Spirits #Danny #Dani #clones #my posts #flashing lights #flashing gif #(Just in case.) #I just really love the clones okay. #They lived very short lives and completely under the control of Vlad. #Bbys deserved better. #YEAH this has been said a millions times before hush. #gifs #my gifs

[i-cant-sing]

What would Rei do to make Dabi not trust her around his own child? Like we all know he’s not the best dad but he might have a limit to what he’ll tolerate happening to his kid.

So what does Rei do to break that limit and cause him to lash out and never let her near his kid again?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Dad Dabi is > Brother Dabi by like a... MILLION TIMES.

Dad Dabi is so so protective of his baby. I mean, he really does treat her like glass, thinks she's too pure for this world, too pure for him. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you, but god is he grateful for the ray of sunshine. His initial plan was to keep you hidden from everyone, but then you got hurt by his rival and well, he had to contact Natsuo to save your life. Then one thing lead to another, and his family found out about your existence.

Now, Dabi was very cautious about who to let you be around and not. You already know he kept an eagle eye on Enji, forcing you to sit in his lap so that you wouldn't go running to his father, who was putting up the whole facade of "Oooh I'm a changed man now and I love my wife and my children, and my first grand child!" Yeah, Dabi doesn't believe that Enji wouldn't repeat his abusive behaviour with you, and he'd much rather watch the world burn and crumble than let a hair on your head get hurt.

Dabi is a little wary of Shotou because of how much he likes to just stare off into space, but that's cause of Enji, okay? So he trusts his siblings and mom around you too, happy that you bring joy into their lives the same way you bring joy to his.

What he didn't expect was for you to whine and beg him not to drop you off at Rei's, saying that she forces you to dress up or doesn't let you play. Dabi thinks you're just messing around, and he doesn't have time to inquire you because he gotta go to LoV meeting or something.

Anyways he drops you off at Rei's (after making sure Enji's not around the house). But he's half an hour into his ride, when he realises you forgot your backpack in his car, and he knows you like to show you off your stickers to everyone and he doesn't want Rei to call him that you're having a breakdown because you can't find your backpack.

He drives back home and walks in to give you your bag, only to hear your loud wails. He runs into his mother's room, thinking that you had realised you your bag was missing. But he walked into the room to see a sight he never imagined: Rei was holding a brush and you were crying, your little form cowering away from her. She hadn't even noticed Dabi, so when she raised the wooden brush to hit you again, she was surprised when someone caught her wrist.

Dabi pushed her away from you, bending down to check on you. He could see your cheek was reddening from where she had swatted you. Picking you up, Dabi rubbed your back, and hushed you, telling you its okay, he's here now.

"Touya, I-"

"Shut up." Dabi never thought his voice would hold such venom for his own mother, but after the sight he'd witnessed, he's surprised its not deadlier.

He walked towards the door and moved to the living room, settling you on the couch. Giving you your backpack, he told you to buys yourself while he comes back in five minutes.

He goes back to Rei, who has now over her episode, and is crying in the corner as she realises how she fucked up. "Touya, I'm so-"

"How dare you?" Dabi was mad, so mad at the one person he'd trusted his angel with. He made sure to yell at her, remind her of all her shortcomings, of all the abusive shit she'd done to him as a kid too, even if it wasn't physical, it affected him. And until now, he was going to let it slide and excuse it for Enji being an ass to everyone, but she should've known better- should know better now.

Had it been anyone else, Dabi would've incinerated them the moment he saw them hurting you. But some part of him knew Rei was messed up because of Enji, and besides, you were in just earshot. He couldn't risk it.

"You're never going to see her ever again. And if you ever try to hurt her, I will end you." He told her, after calling bull on her whole "Oh Touya, it was just an episode, a mistake! All because Y/n said she didn't want me to do her hair-"

When Dabi walked out of the room, he saw you giggling on the couch as Enji made airplane sounds while he fed you the ice cream. You looked better now, but that didn't mean he liked/trusted Enji. Picking you up, he began walking towards the door, knowing that Enji just heard his conversation with Rei.

"Bye bye, Grandpa! I love you." The words made Dabi roll his eyes as he walked out of the house. Just because he hasnt hurt you, doesn't mean he's a good guy.

If he's learnt anything from today, its that he can never trust anyone around you, ever. Family or not, all Dabi knows is that he's the only one who can keep you safe.

#yandere endeavor #yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere dabi #yandere enji todoroki #yandere todoroki family #yandere todoroki clan

[taeyohonic]

stolen dances | chap. 21

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: minor physical violence (and talk about it), alcohol consumption, swearwords, lots of feelings, therapy talk, talk about sex

words: 4000

links: prev. | epilogue [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended. 

chapter summary: it’s over; in so many ways.

you do not know what you expected when you arrive at the wedding reception. maybe a somewhat furious groom, seokjin hovering over you and your unspoken feelings, jimin dancing topless to the macarena with one drink too many. maybe even a sullen taehyung, weary of the unspoken truce between the two of you.

your imagination doesn’t do you justice as jungkook’s mother-in-law slaps you bright red across the cheek. the surprise tastes like blood as yoongi moves swiftly in front of you, shielding you from the wrath of a woman you do not know.

“the nerve of you! the… the nerve you have,” she spews in yoongi’s face now. your brain tries to maneuver through her words, but you come up empty as the cameras click around you furiously.

“that’s enough!” jimin orders, fighting his way to your group, “direct your anger at a more deserving source.” he looks stunning in his suit, but he also looks way too worried for his words. you don’t know when the security closes in, but they do – heavy men barricade you and with helping hands of old friends, you are led out of the reception hall, only hushed whispers following you.

**

you aren’t often invited to jimin’s home – his house too small for all your normal gatherings. but by the way your former shrink moves around jimin’s place tells you he’s been here before. your second coffee this day is nearly as good as your first and you know it has everything to do with the opened bottle of scotch next to the coffee machine.

“i don’t understand,” you whisper into your mug while yoongi rustles a warm blanket around you. he has been tight lipped, but weirdly motherly to you this past hour; the half-melted ice pack for your cheek being one of his first actions after arriving here. but having yoongi mince words is the second red flag today, the first one being your red cheek.

“it’s not so difficult to understand, honey,” jimin huffs, seated across from you as he watches yoongi aiding you. jimin is tired – so, so tired.

“how can he just ju- just not show up?” you ask no one in particular.

jeon jungkook flunked his own wedding. you are allowed to miss it – you are his best friend who’s in love with him. he isn’t. he’s supposed to show up.

“because he didn’t want to,” the former idol offers. it’s not nothing, but still not enough.

“did you talk to him? is he okay?” you question, only to hear yoongi wince next to you. surprised, you arch a brow at him. jimin answers again.

“we talked last night; but no, not today.”

last night? jungkook was with you last night – collecting a stolen dance from your doorstep.

seeing your expression, jimin adds: “after he was at your place.” you flinch while yoongi groans.

it’s silent for a beat and you drink your infused coffee with a million thoughts rushing your brain into overdrive.

“i told you a long time ago that i have an arsenal ready at your disposal, honey.” the singer looks at you with honesty. you snort in his face.

“yeah, and you said you’d use it when i want to fight.” liar, you want to say.

“and maybe you aren’t my only general,” jimin fires back before getting up. he busies himself around the open kitchen, leaving you and yoongi alone.

“i hate it when he talks in metaphorical word vomit,” yoongi says and you laugh in agreement.

“and i hate that you are more worried about jungkook’s wellbeing than your own, ______. you have the assault painted on your face, not him. he fled like a coward, _______.” you want to disagree. you really do. your cheek is fine.

“and i hate that you corrected jimin by using ‘when i want to fight’ instead of ‘if’.”

“that’s a lot of hate for such a small person,” you answer softly and squeeze his hand.

“it still isn’t doing you justice,” he fires back. without the restraint of being your therapist, yoongi has years of pent-up anger.

“why do jungkook’s actions have anything to do with me?” you ask and it’s jimin, clearly eavesdropping, that responds.

“don’t insult us or you with this narrative, honey.”

“maybe i should talk to-,” you try to grab your cell, but yoongi is one step ahead.

“he’s with taehyung and seokjin – give him time.”

you nod. then you point to your empty mug. “can i get another one?”

yoongi gets up without a word, taking your mug and cellphone with him.

“but lose the coffee,” you add. when your brain is that overwhelmed, it’s easier to numb it.

**

when yoongi advised to ‘give him time’ he didn’t expect the press to leak your assault the same night.

jungkook’s breath is close to a burning fire when he bursts in jimin’s house. it’s dark outside and if jungkook would just pause to think, he’d knock instead of using his emergency passcode. but all manners are forgotten as he rushes up the stairs – the former idol doesn’t even care to switch on the lights. or maybe he doesn’t want to be spotted too soon. the guest room is to his left and he doesn’t hesitate to open the door, although he’s more cautious as to not disturb you.

and there you lie, sleeping with only the moon illuminating your figure. it’s the first time that night that jungkook feels the tiniest bit of peace, but it doesn’t last long when he inches toward to see the painkillers next to your bed as well as the bottle of water, half empty. you are in pain because of him. his heart arches as he kneels in front of your sleeping form. your face is bare and he can smell the distinct grapefruit fragrance from jimin’s make up remover. your hair is secured into one of your messy buns – still he can make out the faint glitter you put on it today to celebrate his wedding.

the soft snore between your lips stops as soon as he touches your cheek. you’ve never been a light sleeper, until tonight it seems. before he can steal his hand away you open your eyes. they are disoriented at first, barely awake they move across his face, taking in his grim expression. and then they widen and he knows you are conscious enough.

“i am so sorry, honey,” he whispers, still cradling your cheek and his voice sounds like deep regret. it takes a moment for you to register his words, but then you are shaking your head, ready to deflect.

“it’s just a cheek, kook,” you answer, your voice thick with sleep, only to see jungkook’s eyes blaze in the dark.

“but it’s your cheek, honey. you… don’t deserve this.” and with ‘this’ jungkook doesn’t mean the slap alone. the press has been spinning tales all day and not in your favor.

“don’t i?” you whisper back, surprising him with your question. “why did you not get married today, jungkook?” you ask with all the courage of a half drunk half asleep brain. you don’t know which side is the one gleefully watching as jungkook shifts uncomfortably on his knees in front of you.

“i… i don’t know,” he lies, but can’t look you in the eyes.

“maybe you should figure that out.” your advice sounds more like a command and jungkook winces at your words.

“i did everything wrong, didn’t i?” he asks as he gets up from the floor looking down at you. you try to smile.

“we don’t speak in absolutes around here, jeon,” you joke and see a smirk fighting its way on his lips.

“i’ll… i’ll leave now, honey,” he says, unsure of his words. having him this close before you makes your heart arch. before you know what you are doing, you grip his hand.

“stay till i fall asleep, kook,” you beg, “please.”

it’s your first plea since asking him for a break after your confession. jungkook softens in seconds and nods wordlessly. he has done many mistakes and will continue to do so, but he can give you this. so, he joins you under the covers, his jeans biting into your soft pajamas. you push your back closer to his chest until you feel his breath in your hair. his arms cage you in and for a moment it’s too much, too hot, too close.

but then you feel his nose pressed against your neck and it’s just close enough. he falls asleep first, but it’s understandable with all the running he had to do today. you soon follow.

the next morning it’s only the refilled water bottle next to your bed that reminds you of jungkook’s presence.

**

“i really don’t think it’s a marketing stunt,” he argues. you shake your head at his simple-minded brain.

“it has to be, how else can you justify their actions? hm? there is no way any of this is real,” you fire back.

“ha! have you ever heard of love?”

you snort at his words. “pete davidson does not love kim kardashian,” you say. “and you may quote me on that!”

hoseok huffs in defeat and tries to scribble something in his notebook. then he pauses. “i cannot believe your file contains your remarks on kris jenner’s management strategies.” hoseok does not sound impressed, more concerned.

“their date happened way too soon after travis’ astroworld disaster, jung! kris works hard. open your eyes!”

it’s an emergency session two days after the not-wedding. yoongi was so kind to schedule it on your behalf. he did it right after a furious jimin changed his security passcode. jimin wasn’t mad that jungkook dropped by, he’s upset you didn’t wake him for it.

“you do know we have to talk about jungkook sometime soon, right ____?” hoseok asks softly and you just smile at him.

“i am fine,” you say and – seeing his expression – you add: “i really am. this is not my mess – it’s jungkook’s. and right now i’m just trying to be supportive without getting involved.” it’s true. there are a lot of unanswered questions, vendors being angry, schedules to be rearranged. and you do help, a bit. after jungkook’s firm released a formal statement the last reporters in front of your building left. life is… surprisingly normal.

“isn’t it weird? something like this happens and everything just… continues. people got hurt, futures got tanked and i… just go to work.” it’s the first honest thing you’ve said today and you feel naked under your therapist’s stare.

“hurt people get better, _____. futures get rewritten. humans are very resilient. and like you said, it’s not your mess, so, you don’t know the whole story. it’s okay to move on and let other people repair their damage, _____.”

you are not sure you’ve moved on, but you do continue on. steadily.

**

“no, no, no, no, no,” you stutter at the former idol, ready to bolt at the first chance.

“yes, yes, yes, yes,” he answers back and pushes you closer to the dark car in front of you. seokjin’s wide shoulders shield you from the last students rushing out of school. it’s the final day of classes, tomorrow starts a well-deserved two-week break. you are more than deserving of this time alone.

“hyung, maybe don’t let it look too much like a kidnapping,” namjoon says from behind the wheel. he’s watching the two of you clearly very much entertained.

“too much? joon! are you not on my side?” you whine and your favorite barista betrayals you without a second thought.

“honey, you are standing between me and a vacation. if hyung doesn’t push you inside in the next minute, i’m getting out to help.”

ha! friendships over tips are build on lies.

“just get inside, honey, and nobody has to get hurt,” seokjin speaks from behind you and you really try to fire back, but one un-gentleman-like push sends you flying into the car.

“was that honey?” jungkook’s voice asks over the intercom and namjoon nods before realizing his mistake and answering verbally.

you huff as seokjin buckles you in before he closes the door and jogs around to sit on the passenger seat.

“hi honey!” jungkook greets you and it sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile at the bluetooth device where his caller id illuminates the display.

“hi jungkook.” your voice is soft and the former idol in front of you snorts at your change in tone.

“sorry for the attack, but it had to be quick,” your best friend explains as namjoon tears into the afternoon traffic.

“what had to be quick?” you ask curiously.

“the paris trip is non-refundable,” jungkook starts and your eyes widen in surprise. it feels like a lifetime ago that he offered you one of the honeymoon tickets.

“i’m still not out of the woods with the board after my stunt last week. so, i gifted the tickets to hyung.” jungkook is interrupted by namjoon nearly killing you all, switching a lane without blinking.

“joon!” seokjin screams only for his boyfriend to apologize. “sorry, sorry, i’m really not the best driver.”

“as i was saying before i got rudely interrupted,” jungkook continues, “everything is booked and paid for. so, i thought you could all enjoy it.”

your best friend sounds so normal like the last weeks don’t weight him down. his tone is clear and hopeful. it makes you smile.

“that means paris, baby!” seokjin squeals and punches blindly behind him to get you excited. his near-death experience is forgotten while namjoon seems shaken as he drives the car to the airport. you are leaving now?

“you never returned my ticket?” you ask instead and jungkook huffs over the speakers.

“come on, you can be mad about a lot of things – not a free trip to paris, honey.”

but seeing namjoon’s frightened eyes and seokjin’s crazy look you are not sure how costly this trip really is.

nevertheless, you only answer: “thank you, jungkook. really.” you picture him smiling when he wishes you a safe flight, so you smile back.

“i packed your bags, by the way,” seokjin informs you nonchalantly.

“you were in my apartment without me?” you ask flabbergasted, but before seokjin can confess more, namjoon nearly kills you again with an immoral left turn from the right lane.

**

your vacation is strangely relaxing – when you are not wandering the halls of famous art museums with namjoon, you are taste testing together with seokjin in a way too pretty restaurant for your dirty jokes. and then there are moments shared within the trio: walking all the steps up the eifel tower, cycling along the seine and riding rollercoasters at disneyland (while namjoon holds your bags). you spend so much time with them that they start being less annoying. it’s… worrisome.

but at night you are alone in your luxurious hotel room, some chocolate half-eaten on your bed. and then he calls.

“i cannot believe namjoon nearly broke a vase. does he know how expensive these are?” jungkook laughs and you hear the rustling of sheets at his end. the time difference worried you at first, but your best friend was very persistent.

“i do not think namjoon knows his own size most of the times,” you agree. after he started hitting the gym with jimin and jungkook, his body just… expanded.

“and they still let you continue with the tour?”

you chuckle at the memory. “yeah, but we had to hold hands so i could steer him away from fragile pieces.”

“in a porcelain museum,” he snorts.

“i never said it was easy.” the silence stretches and then you hear his alarm ring in the background. does he have to get up now? after talking two hours with you in the morning hours? you wince at the thought while he silences his alarm.

“jungkook, you need your sleep,” you say softly.

“nah, honey, i need to know you are doing well,” he counters and adds, “and i do have a rather uninspiring meeting this morning, so it should be alright to powernap.”

“you are the ceo, jungkook.”

“is that encouragement?” he asks jokingly. you shake your head and fall deeper into your bedding.

“sometimes i really miss you,” you whisper, closing your eyes at the confession.

“sometimes i really miss you too,” your best friend answers.

you both hang up and you fall asleep to his old music, softly playing from your phone.

**

the next day namjoon is buying you guys some baguette and cheese while you steal some of the sun away from the parisian sky. and then you see a mob of red hair. it sticks out from the crowd, even though the people around him are fashionable, kim taehyung is just too exquisite to blend in.

your feet carry you before your mind can register that the former idol is here in paris. and then you are in front of him, his blinding boxy smile greeting you and then he hugs you – hard.

“it’s good to see you, honey.” he whispers hidden in your hair. you hug him back just as hard.

**

“i don’t know if the baguette will be enough for three,” namjoon worries while taehyung gives an autograph to an older fan. she is more than excited to see him. you are too.

“namjoon, we ate an hour ago. pizza. how can a loaf of bread not be enough for a snack?” you question and the barista huffs.

“he probably wants something from the cheese as well. i promised hyung to leave a piece for him. he will be mad about this.”

you don’t know namjoon long enough to recognize all his characteristics, but you do know he’s not talking about cheese.

“i’m not in the mood for cheese – he can have my slice.”

the man across from you smiles in silent thanks; clearly your meta communication was successful.

when taehyung joins you, it’s with airy lightness and his deep voice carries most of the conversation. he is full of excitement while talking about his new project here in paris. you didn’t know that his europe project had a handful of locations: italy, paris, berlin and tokyo. taehyung will be busy for the next months. it’s a soothing thought when you see the happiness in his eyes.

later, the two of you walk trough a park near your hotel. namjoon looks constipated when he leaves you alone, but he did book a couple’s massage for today, so he really has no choice.

“do you think he has diarrhea from the cheese?” taehyung stage-whispers and it makes you snort very un-ladylike.

“i think he’s just worried – leaving the two of us together,” you explain and now it’s the redhead that snorts at you.

“what does he think? we’ll fuck on this bench?” taehyung points to a very uncomfortable looking bench next to you.

“i mean, would it be your first bench?” you fire back, only to have him laugh in your face.

“chateau!”

“you mean touché, taehyung.”

the both of you walk next to each other, not quite close enough for lovers but not far enough for friends either. it makes your heart beat faster.

“i really hate how we ended our conversation at my door,” he starts. you knew it had to come, still you wince at the memory.

“me too. i- i didn’t mean to hit you, tae,” you say, but he waves your concerns away.

“forgotten, honey. don’t speak about it again. i don’t want to see you upset about that.” you don’t tell him your last session with hoseok was just about the slap.

“i… care about you, honey. maybe too much, maybe too late, but i do.”

“i know.”

“so, i really need a bit of time to come to terms with this. feelings – that’s new for me,” he chuckles even though you recognize honesty in his words. it’s a sobering thought. both taehyung and jungkook seem so sheltered by the industry, not having lived through a lot of emotions.

“and if i… i work through my stuff … maybe we can start fresh?” he asks uncertain. his vulnerability surprises you, still, he’s protected enough by the double meaning behind his words: starting fresh as friends or partners?

“taehyung, i love jungkook,” you respond. it doesn’t answer his question, or maybe it does. you are not sure.

“i know, i know. but feelings change, honey! i used to find you annoying at best. and now look at me: fleeing to europe to run from my crush.” taehyung puffs out his chest in mock pride.

your heart hurts looking at him, but you try to breathe deeply before responding.

“i’ve loved jungkook for years.”

“he hurt you,” taehyung fires back.

“i know.”

“he nearly married another woman.”

“i know.”

“he made so many mistakes, ____.”

you know, you really do. they have scarred you for a long time.

“i really love him, taehyung.”

and it’s a tragedy – to have two lovable souls stride around the city of love, too far away from their love.

you pack that night alone while you cry. it’s freeing and frightening at the same time. as you decline jungkook’s phone call hours later, you see the meme taehyung sent you after your meeting. it’s a silly picture, not even a good joke. but it stops your tears.

someday, your friend will come back from europe and you’ll be waiting for him.

**

“i cannot believe they confiscated my macaroons. the audacity!” seokjin’s airport fashion is more than distracting as your group moves through the airport. most of your luggage is in your possession, but seokjin’s designer bag is still missing, while his imported sweets are lost to customs.

the jetlag hasn’t kicked in yet. although you can feel the stiffness of your muscles after the long flight. it’s a miracle you were able to sleep next to a snoring namjoon. the airport is packed, and all the unfamiliar faces nearly overwhelm you. only seokjin’s grumbling and his security guide you through the masses. you welcome the korean signs and your ability to read them perfectly. you should be out of the airport in minutes.

it's late here in seoul, still the family reunions around you are boisterous and you can’t help your smile as you see a child hugging her parent at the gate. with restless eyes you move across the room.

and then you see him: he is dressed in black, apart from his brown timberlands. he shifts nervously when you continue to stare at him, now halting your movements.

jeon jungkook looks tired, dark circles under his eyes from late night phone calls and emergency therapy sessions.

the former idol looks tense as his fingers flex against his self-made sign.

your best friend looks excited when he sees your teary smile.

his eyes shine at you from across the room and your heart beats in delight to the pace of your steps as you run towards your best friend who loves you – if one can trust the sign.

____

partey, partey, yeahhhh!

i’m kind of sentimental about this chapter and this fic in general. if you’ve read this story with me for the last years, i applaud your resilience. i’m a liar – because i’ll add another chapter (the epilogue) sometime soon! (and… it’s a pov shift ahhhh!)

i’ll hold on to all my emotional rambling and thanks till i post the epilogue, but know that every kudo, comment, like, reblog, every message and every follow means a little universe to me. i’m glad i can share words and feelings with you here and i’m glad you took the time to read this author’s note. if you have the time, i’d like to hear your last verdict: jungkook – yay or nay?

and no endnote right now can be complete with my plea at you to stay safe and healthy. these are devastating times and i’m overwhelmed by insecurities on another level. i hope you find some safety in your surroundings and compassion for hurt people around you.

best of love from dana

taglist: @livewittykid  @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad  @jinsearthh @kseokwu  @betysotelo18 @daydreambrliever @untouchabyeol-man @lesyeuxdeyifei @lachimolala-2l @moonchild1 @taejinvol6 @deliciousdetectivestranger @unchoosablename @httpfandxms​ @fangirl125reader @miniiimee @jeonlovescoffee​ @hello-kittyy​ @kokoandkookie​ @mwitsmejk​ @definetlythinkimanalien​

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #best friend jungkook

[andtheydontstopwriting]

𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙨 -【Rodrick Heffley x F!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

word count: 6.2k

summary: [y/n], daughter from a wealthy family from New York City, has been keeping her relationship with rodrick heffley a secret from her parents, though what happens if it’s brought up and her parents want to meet the secret boyfriend?

author’s note: here it is! hope you guys all enjoy it!! though i did want to let you know that i wrote this originally as a piece of work for my original character, which is why it is in third person! if you want to request anything feel free to!! once again, thank you for reading it!

keys: [y/nn] - your nickname

“I didn’t mean to tell them, [Y/NN].” Caleb spoke in hushed tones, as he attempted to prevent any outburst that he doubted would come from his younger sister, but it was still something that he felt that needed to be stopped, “But I’m sure neither you or Rodrick would exactly be thrilled if you ended up going to homecoming with David or Chad, and you know how dad-.”

 “Listens to you, yes, I do know that, Caleb,” [Y/N] began, though her train of thought was shooting off in a million different directions, “And I do appreciate you trying to stick up for my happiness, but now we have to deal with what comes with doing that.”

 It did not take long for Caleb to know what [Y/N] meant, because their father did bring it up in the conversation that started this whole situation. 

 “Father and Mother want to meet him.”

 “And I don’t know if I can teach Rodrick to have the manners and social know-how that we and whoever Father believes would be more acceptable.”

 “Maybe it’s for the best that’s the case, [Y/NN],” Caleb pointed out, placing a gentle hand on his 

sister’s shoulder, “Give yourself the chance to step out of the spotlight for once, your happiness is what’s important.”

 [Y/N] merely just nodded, because she knew that the standards their father placed on both of them were vastly different. Caleb could afford some level of security in the notion of not being worried about what their father thinks, because he does not have to work so hard to make their father happy. 

 This was something the teenager always had to grapple with growing up. Eventually, coming to terms with since she was the youngest, her future compared to her older brother’s was uncertain, unclear, and too many factors were up in the air: where was she going to college? What would her major be? What would her future career be? What sort of family would she have? Who would she marry?

 Whereas Caleb had his future planned from the moment he was born: attend an ivy league for business then take over the family company, marry a family friend/one of the daughters of their father’s business associates or a family that would be useful to merge with and have a family. It was always clear and never questioned, even when they were kids. It took little effort on his part to make their father happy, because the expectations were clear as day and never took a moment of thought to figure out.

 It was her burden to bear, and never had the strength in her to expect anyone to understand the judging gaze always cast her way, as if waiting for her to mess up or make a mistake to remind her of her failures no matter how perfect she appeared to the public eye. To her own boyfriend, even.

 And part of her subconscious wished it would remain that way forever. But life has a funny way of working out in the end.

 Her parents at dinner the same night her and Caleb conferred, they brought up having this mystery boy their daughter had been seeing secret over for dinner so they could have a chance to finally meet. [Y/N] had little say in the matter and the Saturday before Homecoming was agreed upon.

 As soon as she returned to her bedroom for the night, [Y/N] knew she had to bring it up to Rodrick as soon as she could if they were to have any chance of staying together after that Saturday. The week they just about had was not going to be enough, but [Y/N] still felt she had to put the effort into trying to teach Rodrick at least table manners her parents would expect. But perhaps even that was pushing it.

:~+~:

“Your parents want to meet me?”

 “Well, they did say they want to meet you, but I don’t think it’s because they know it’s you, Rodrick.” 

 Perhaps on their near nightly phone call was not the ideal place to tell Rodrick about the dinner, but it was the first instance she could get it out without her anxiety getting the better of her about telling him in the first place. It saved her having to tell him in person and save herself from seeing how he reacted in real time. 

 “And dinner was the best place for that to happen?” Rodrick questioned after a brief moment of silence and a familiar squeak of some springs faintly resounded into the speaker on his end. He must have 

 “With my family, yes,” The blonde confirmed, “With all things considered, with the holidays too far away and Homecoming approaching sooner, and they specifically said they wanted to meet you before the dance, a dinner is the only way.” 

 “Okay…” Rodrick trailed off, going silent for a moment, “When is dinner anyway?”

 “Next Saturday,” [Y/N] replied, though quickly added before her boyfriend could speak, “We’re gonna have to have etiquette lessons, Rod, so I can teach you everything that you’re gonna need if you’re gonna make it through the night.”

 “What do you mean etiquette, babe?” 

 “Like how to sit at a table, which fork and spoon to use and when to use them, what you can and can’t say, that sort of stuff. The basics.” 

 “Do you think a week is enough time to teach me all that junk?”

 “Luckily for you, you have a great teacher and someone who has been taught this stuff her whole life, I think something will stick.”

 “Alright, whatever you say babe,”

 “I’ll even help you get ready,” [Y/N] promised, though had to amend it with, “I’ll try to, anyway, I'll at least come over to make sure you have an appropriate outfit because t-shirts won’t cut it.”

 There was a clear groan of annoyance on the other end of the line before the teenager spoke, “You know I hate wearing ties, [Y/N], and I’m already pushin’ wearing it for Homecoming and not to church.” 

 “I know, I know,” [Y/N] sighed as she brought a hand up to her face as she stood from her bed to start pacing her room, “But it’s just for one more night than normal, Rodrick, I promise.”

 “And what do I get in return, huh?”

 “A girlfriend?”

 “Okay, yeah, that’s a pretty solid deal.”

 “So lessons start tomorrow, okay?”

 “After the band practice,”

 “After the band practice then.” [Y/N] confirmed as she sat on her bed once more, “Good night, sweetheart.”

 “Night, babe.” 

:~+~:

Okay, so the lessons did not go great, but they went about as well as [Y/N] expected. Teaching Rodrick how to behave and act as closely to the way she and her brother had grown up being taught was like pulling teeth, and much like chemistry, it was looking like nothing was sticking. And if anything was sticking, it was gone by the next day and they had to start over.

Meaning, come that fateful Saturday, [Y/N] could only hope that her very quick rundown of the basics, the true basics of what Rodrick needed to know the night before when she went over the Heffley’s house the previous night to get possible outfit choices ready and wrinkle free knowing the state of his bedroom and how clothes could be just...existing on the floor and if it was a process for her to find clean t-shirts of his to steal, then she figured the dressier clothes he owned were living the same way.

“What’s troubling you, little bird?” Her mother asked her daughter, as she had noticed that [Y/N] had been a little distracted in chopping the vegetables up. Not only that, she had been on edge since had left her bedroom that morning.

 “I’m worried about dinner tonight, Mother,” [Y/N] answered, shaking her head a bit to refocus her attention on chopping the vegetables.

 “I’m sure your Father will be on his best behavior, there’s no reason to be worried.” Helena spoke softly, reassuring her daughter with the soothing tones and having set the spoon down beside the stove top to go over and gently brush [Y/N]’s hair back, “Everything will be fine, little bird.”

 As much as [Y/N] wanted to believe her mother was right, that things would be fine and everything would go smoothly,she also had to remind herself of her father’s constant attempts to control her life, and everything in her life. That included who she dates and there had been plenty of failed attempts in the past because of this meddling, and [Y/N], for once, just wanted to be free of the constant puppet strings attached to her that her father controlled. 

 “Father’s best behavior is turbulent, Mother, you know this,” [Y/N] pointed out with a sigh, “Rodrick isn’t exactly what Father believes to be best for me, and I’m afraid if Rodrick says one thing he doesn’t like, that's it, we’re through.” 

 “Your father’s opinion does not always matter, remember that his say is not final-”

 “It’s been final before.” [Y/N] interjected, “Remember he wouldn’t let me try out for the cheer team?”

 “He’s just looking out for what's best for you, that’s all.” 

 After that, the kitchen was silent save for the sounds of cooking, because once more [Y/N]’s anxiety took over and Helena simply did not know how to comfort her daughter anymore. It was easiest to just finish dinner and then go get ready for it, adn say nothing else on the matter for fear of making things worse.

 However, just as [Y/N] was finishing up getting ready when she heard the familiar sound of an engine rumbling up the driveway. And gazing out of one of her bedroom windows that overlooked the front of the house, she saw the familiar van park in front of the garage.

 So that is a good thing, Rodrick managed to remember to get there early as she insisted numerous times upon. Not that much earlier than the time she said dinner would start, but it was something, at least. 

 Next came the issue of watching Rodrick getting out of the van. While he did dress the part, the part was also distracting her that she kept her eyes trained on him before he disappeared under the roof that covered the front porch. It was indeed a rare instance for [Y/N] to see her boyfriend dressed up, considering she never exactly went with the Heffley family to church on Sundays. 

 So it was easy to understand as to why she had zoned out, nearly daydreaming and ogling over what she saw from a distance what her boyfriend was wearing. Though before she could fully dive into the daydream, the echoing sound of the ring of the doorbell echoed across the house and it was enough to snap [Y/N] out of her head and she was quick to stand from her vanity, hoping to make it to the front door before her parents or brother could open the door.

 However, her attempts were in vain because of the delay it took her to stand and began the mad dash to the front of the house and the size of the home itself, and by the time she had reached the top of the stairs, she saw her mother already at the front door and as [Y/N] made her descent down the staircase, she heard what was spoken.

 “Ah, so you must Rodrick,” Helena spoke, though [Y/N] could get a hint of confusion from the tone used, which [Y/N] assumed was because her mother had recognized Rodrick from the couple times she had seen him before when she first started to tutor the boy, but that was not brought up when Helen added, “Come in, come in.”

 “Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clemens.” [Y/N] heard Rodrick speak as she continued her descent down the staircase, smiling to herself because at least something else stuck: always use formalities, never call my parents by their actual names. 

 As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was met with a beat of silence and then Rodrick saying without much hesitation, “You look beautiful,” 

 A dust of pink appeared on her cheeks and she briefly looked towards her mother away from Rodrick, who looked between the teenagers before taking the steps towards the dining room, allowing the young couple a moment alone before the dinner began.

 “I have to admit, I know you hate getting all dressed up,” [Y/N] spoke as she neared Rodrick, reaching up to gently adjust the tie around his neck, “But I wouldn’t be opposed to you dressing up more often.”

 “There isn’t a chance of that happening, babe, you know that.” Rodrick pointed out, though a teasing smile graced his face, which [Y/N] mirrored.

 “A girl can dream, can’t she?” 

 Just as Rodrick was about to lean down to give [Y/N] a quick peck on the lips, he froze in his movements as he both heard a voice from down the hall echo around them and the fact he felt [Y/N] slightly tense up.

 “Ah, [Y/N], dinner is about to start, I expected you to be in the dining room already.”

 [Y/N] took a deep breath as she began to speak as she stepped to stand beside Rodrick instead, “Father, we were just heading there n-”

 “This must be the secret boyfriend, then, Rodrick, wasn’t it?” Charlie interrupted, which was something [Y/N] was used to by then, and held a hand out to Rodrick (another thing [Y/N] could see right through--the charm of a businessman), “Charles.”

 “Yeah, that’s me,” Rodrick said as he briefly glanced at his girlfriend to see what to do, before [Y/N] replied with a glance down to her father’s extended hand, which Rodrick took with a little too much fervor, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clemens.”

 The energy behind Rodrick’s hand shake with her father was something that would not be much of an issue, but [Y/N] never had a how to shake a hand lesson herself, so it was overlooked when she was teaching her boyfriend what he would need to know. She was a girl, and the only thing she ever got on the subject matter was to be light and certain in the handshake, and that was all. So one look at her father’s face said all that she needed to know.

 It was already off to a bad start and they had not even sat down for dinner yet.

 Luckily her mother had called them into the dinning room before much more could already add to the poor outcome [Y/N] could start to sense coming already, no matter the words that echoed to counter the notion, hoping that things would look up from there forward.

 And for the first part of dinner, it was as her mind had hoped it would be, as everything went smoothly. Any questions her parents asked to Rodrick, it took a moment, but he was always to pull something out that also did not make him nor his family look bad. The looks shared between the Clemens siblings were a mix of relief and happiness as the dinner progressed, because the lessons and seemingly did in the end stick with Rodrick more than [Y/N] previously had suspected they did. 

 “So, what is it you want to do with your life after you finish up high school, Rodrick?”

 That was the question she was dreading, and one she was hoping for once her father would overlook and just accept that fact, move on that the future did not matter as much as the happiness of his children. 

 And the question must have also thrown Rodrick off for some reason, as he glanced once more at [Y/N] and in turn [Y/N] glanced at Caleb, a look of panic settling on her face.

 “I think the team has a good chance of winning the game next week.” Caleb brought up, “So Homecoming may be a celebration for that win, too.”

 “The football team has won every year the past several years, Caleb,” Charles pointed out, sighing as he set his fork down on the plate before him, “But that is not what we are talking about now, my boy.” 

 “The marching band is probably the best we’ve had in years, Father,” [Y/N] quickly added, clearly buying Rodrick enough time to try and find an answer to Charles’ question, “It’ll be worth going to the game for more than just the football team this year.”

 “[Y/N], I believed I asked Rodrick a question, so I would appreciate it if you would allow him to answer.” Charles said, his tone rising from calm coolness, to slight agitation as he took a deep breath to calm down once more, “Now, Rodrick, what do you want to do with your future?”

 “To be a musician.” 

 “Oh, a musician,” Helena tried to express some happiness in the discovery, “Are you in the school orchestra with [Y/N]?”

 “N-no, Mrs. Clemens,” Rodrick realized his mistake of bringing up the fact he wanted to be a musician, but at the same time, if he said he didn’t know, he was sure he and [Y/N] would be over then and there, “I’m in a band with some of my friends.”

 “What type of music do you play then?” Charles asked and [Y/N] and Caleb once more exchanged looks before [Y/N] looked to Rodrick once again. A look that said there was no point in lying about it now.

 “Heavy metal.”

 “Oh…” Charles began, glancing between [Y/N] and Rodrick, before his eyes landed once again on Rodrick, “That’s an interesting choice, have you not considered going to college or another career path?”

 “Charles,” Helena interjected, giving her husband a look from across the table, “Now is not the time.”

 “What?” Charles asked, clearly confused as to what his wife could mean, “What’s so wrong about getting to know the boy who my little princess is dating?”

 From there, Helena merely just shook her head and dinner continued in silence, The only sound was the clatter of utensils as they hit the plate. [Y/N] kept her gaze down at the plate in front of her, merely just pushing what food was left around on her plate. Though, at some point, under the table, she reached over to gently grab a hold of Rodrick’s hand. To which, Rodrick merely just briefly looked over to [Y/N] and the only thing he could really do in reaction to it, was to let go of the tension in his shoulders before attempting to finish the meal before him.

 As expected, her mother announced that she would go and get dessert not too long after, but it would be a few minutes to warm it up once again. So as [Y/N] stood to start clearing the table, her father also stood.

 “[Y/N], could I speak to you for a moment?” Was all he said before he started his way towards the office he had at home.

 [Y/N] knew what would come from this conversation, and she had to try to be strong this time. She knew that this conversation would be her dad trying to get [Y/N] to break things off with Rodrick--something she knew was going to happen as soon as her father brought up the question of what Rodrick wanted to do with the future. His dream was not to be anything her father expected the man [Y/N] to be with. And it was time for her to take her own life into her own hands after so long of being looked down upon and controlled by the plan her father had for her.

 “What is it you see in that boy, [Y/N]?” Charles questioned as soon as the door to the office was shut behind [Y/N].

 “I can assure you that Rodrick is someone with more than meets the eye, Father.” [Y/N] answered clearly as she rose to stand up a little straighter.

 “But you are aware that he is not ideal, don’t you?” Her father spoke as he folded his arms behind his back, taking the strides to stand in front of his daughter, “You should be with someone like Edward Vill or Chad Danford. Not someone who you met tutoring, and someone who believes his heavy metal band will take off.” 

 He waited a moment for [Y/N] to speak, but all she did instead was lower her head and folded her hands at her front, so Charles continued, “All you have to do is end things with Rodrick and your future already looks brighter, my princess.”

 “That’s your plan for my life, though,” [Y/N] pointed out, her tone quieter than she wanted it to come out, but she soon found her confidence once more as she added, “For once I want to do things my way, so with all due respect father, I don’t think I will break things off with Rodrick no matter what your standards are for me.”

 “The standards I hold for you are meant to ensure you have a future.” Charles began, using a variation of the same speech [Y/N] heard time and time again, “As you know, your brother will take over the company, so I just want to make sure your foundation is strong in whatever ways I can provide. You’re young, you know little of how the world works.”

 “Have you not realized that in trying to live up to your expectations, I’m putting my own happiness at stake?”

 “The real world knows nothing of individual happiness, [Y/N], success is the only thing that will cultivate any sense of the word.”

 “I’m doing my best as I am right now, and then some, trying to gain the success you wish from me,” [Y/N] finally lifted her gaze up, though the tears starting to well in her eyes as soon as she did, looking at the man she called father, but had not felt like one in years, “But even with all that I have accomplished and juggled since we moved, you still think I’m a failure, and nothing I ever do is right.”

 “There’s always more, you never have to stop working and aiming high.” Charles’s voice began to rise once again, “And being with that boy is going to prevent you from doing such.” 

 [Y/N] shook her head just as the tears started to fall from her eyes, “I’m done trying to be what you think I am, because I’ll never be good enough for you.”

 “Young lady, you listen-” Charles began, but [Y/N] was quick to interrupt for once.

 “No, I’m done listening and following whatever it is you say for me to do, I’m choosing my happiness for once, which means I am not breaking up with Rodrick just because you do not approve of him.”

 And while Charles attempted to persuade [Y/N] otherwise, he did try to get her to understand why he does what he does, but [Y/N] was not having it. And despite his efforts to also get her to stay, [Y/N] was quick to make her leave, knowing if she stayed any longer it would turn out uglier than it had already become. And they did not need that to happen.

 Instead, [Y/N] tried her best to compose herself, keep herself together, as she went back into the dining room to get Rodrick. She did not need her brother or her boyfriend doting on her immediately, and she had to stay strong as she left the family home because she could not afford any more signs of weakness. 

 Though the soft hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and her quiet yet slightly quivering voice as [Y/N] asked, “Can we leave now?” was all Rodrick needed to have to know things did not go well when she talked with her dad, but he didn’t know what was discussed. 

 “See you around, Caleb,” Rodrick said before he stood from the dining table and [Y/N] was quick to grab a hold of his hand to walk out of the house. 

 “Young lady, you stay in this house or you’ll be grounded for the rest of your life!” She heard her father call out as he was approaching the foyer, but Helena was quick to hold him back.

“Charles, let her go,” She tried to reason with her fuming husband, “You two need some space right now,”

 [Y/N] shot a quick apologetic look to her mother as she grabbed her purse hanging by the front door before opening the large wooden door and stepped outside.

 “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Clemens, it was real good!” Rodrick felt like he needed to say something before he shut the door behind him, and that was what happened to come out. Perhaps it was nerves talking and not filtering his thoughts that were not filled with concern for his girlfriend. And when they cleared the steps of the front porch, the boy was quick to make the steps to walk side by side, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s hand as they got to the van.

 As soon as everything was unlocked, and both were in their respective spots, Rodrick turned the noisy van on, backed up, and began the drive down the long driveway and back onto the street. [Y/N], meanwhile, just leaned her head against the window, staring mindlessly out the side view mirror and watched as the house she had started to call home grew smaller and smaller as they moved away from it, and she could see two figures standing on the porch but soon as they turned the corner onto the street, they were out of sight. 

:~+~:

Rodrick did not know what [Y/N] wanted to do, and she had been silent since asking him to leave her house. So he assumed it best to play it safe and drive around town as she calmed down enough to tell him what she wanted to do, or at least, he felt like she could answer when asked what she wanted to do. He knew by then to not push [Y/N], let her do things at her own time, because of his experience during finals last year and how she got so stressed out she shut down for a few hours. 

 Though after an hour of driving, from the corner of his eye, Rodrick could see that [Y/N] made an effort to lift her head off of the window and that was the sign that she was calming down and he made the choice to ask a question.

 “Wanna hit up the convenience store since we bailed on dessert?”

 There was a moment of silence, then two, then three, before Rodrick heard the defeated voice of his girlfriend come from her mouth, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 And with that guidance and direction on what to do next, Rodrick complied and drove to the nearest convenience store. 

 The next thirty minutes or so of the evening for the young couple were spent attempting to rid themselves of the pain and sorrow of the evening that had happened earlier. Trying to be young once more without any burdens or cares. And with this attempt to change how the night progressed, came the night chill and while Rodrick was fine, [Y/N] was not. Luckily, or unluckily, Rodrick had left one of his sweatshirts in the back of the van--which was the unlucky part, because it was found in the back of the van and who knows when it was last washed. But it was better than nothing, so [Y/N] accepted it and was grateful it at least smelled of him--the cologne he started to wear more frequently, that is. Once inside the shop, they moved through the snack and candy aisles with careful thought and consideration of what they wanted, with [Y/N] clinging onto Rodrick’s arm, her head resting upon his upper arm as they moved through the aisles and made their decisions of what felt appropriate for the evening--for Rodrick, a bag of chips and for [Y/N] a bag of sour gummy candy, as well as a bag of chocolate to share between them, and went to check out. 

 They chose to just sit and eat in the back of the van, still parked in the parking lot of the convenience store, as it was easier than finding somewhere else to go. They also sat in considerable silence once again, the only sounds this time were the bags crinkling and the sound of the crunch of the chip whenever Rodrick ate one, side by side as close as they could be and eat with ease at the same time. 

 “I’m tired of trying to be good enough,” [Y/N] suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that fell over them once she had decided she had finished with her candy for now. 

 Rodrick, who had been in the middle of eating a chip when [Y/N] decided to speak up, was grateful that he had something in his mouth as it allowed him the time to process what his girlfriend just said and figure out what he was going to say in return. In the meantime, he set aside his bag of chips and shifted enough to reach out and grab a hold of [Y/N]’s hand.

 “I’m tired of tryin’, too,” Was what he apparently settled with, having never exactly been good at the whole comforting thing, “So we can be tired of it together.”

 There was no verbal response from [Y/N], but she responded to this statement by gently rolling her head onto his shoulder, her other hand also came up to start playing with his fingers after setting the bag of candy down. So Rodrick took this that she was listening to what he was saying, but wasn’t sure in what way.

 “Buuuut, one of the smartest girls I know taught me once that having two negatives together ends up canceling out the other, so we can just be tired together, instead.”

 With this addition, a breathy laugh was heard in his ears and a proud little half smile appeared on his face as he heard her voice once again not being plagued by anxiety, but simply by sleepiness.

 “I don’t think you understood that full lesson, sweetheart, remember how you almost flopped that test because you didn’t?”

 With her statement being made, Rodrick’s smile grew into a full one before he tilted his head to place a gentle but loving kiss to the top of her head, before he murmured against her hair, “But I would have totally failed without you, babe.”

 “We can just be tired together, Rodrick,” [Y/N] confirmed after a moment of quiet enjoyment of the moment, “And deal with all the teenage bullshit together.”

“Wow, did you just swear, babe?” Rodrick said in joking disbelief as he leaned away to look at [Y/N] head on.

 “It’s been a long night, sweetheart.”

 “My place?”

 “I don’t think either of our parents would appreciate us sleeping in the back of your van, so yes, your place.”

:~+~:

“Where have you two been?” Was what they were greeted with as soon as they arrived at the Heffley family home, “We’ve been worried sick!”

 “Sorry, mom,” Rodrick began, stepping in front of [Y/N] as he added, “We just went on a drive and stopped to get snacks, that’s all.”

 “Your mother called, [Y/N], and she was worried when I said you weren’t here, but I’ll go call her to come get you, okay?”

 “N-no,” [Y/N] began, the stammer in her voice stopped Susan from going to the phone in the living room, and Frank just looked at her confused, “I, uh, don’t want to go back home tonight, can I please stay?”

 “What happened at the dinner that made you not want to go home?” Frank questioned.

 “Just some family stuff,” [Y/N] covered easily, though she took a step to stand closer to Rodrick as she continued, “...Didn’t leave on the best of terms.” 

 “Oh, then of course you can stay, and we can figure this all out tomorrow, but I am going to call your mom back and let her know you’re safe, okay?” Susan said with a gentle smile and [Y/N] reciprocated the smile with a quiet, thank you, before Mrs. Heffley added, “You can sleep on the couch, after I make the call I’ll go get you a blanket,”

 “Can she actually sleep in my room?” Rodrick brought up, his tone rushed, to which both his parents gave him a stern look but before his mom could even get the answer of no out, he added, “I don’t want her to be alone after what happened, is all.”

 Susan and Frank gave each other a look, before they looked at Rodrick and [Y/N], and they caught the young couple glancing at each other and they saw the softest expression on Rodrick’s face they have ever seen on their son and once more looked back at each other.

 “On an air mattress.” Frank said, pointing a finger at the both of them, to which the pair nodded before Mr. Heffley turned to go get the air mattress from the basement. 

:~+~:

So [Y/N] never ended up sleeping on the air mattress. 

 She started out there, trying to do right by Rodrick’s parents since they allowed her to sleep in their son’s bedroom, which she could not be in past 8:30 on a school night usually. But sleeping in some of Rodrick’s clothes and with him only feet away, she was crawling in right beside him not even five minutes in of trying to fall asleep.

 When she awoke the next morning, [Y/N] felt a weight on her chest, and not the emotional kind. No, it was almost the entire dead weight of her sound asleep boyfriend sleeping over top of her, his head resting on her shoulder, his wild bed hair tickling her neck. She did not move him off or attempt anything, instead choosing to bask in this moment they rarely got to have and enjoy a quiet Rodrick for once, a version of him totally at peace. Gently, she started to run her fingers along his back through the t-shirt he was wearing, before the fingers of her other hand started to gently card through his hair, which only settled the sleeping teenager deeper into her.

 When he settled a little deeper into rest, this was when she had a slight struggle with breathing, and [Y/N] knew that she had to do what was usually impossible: waking Rodrick up.

 But luckily for her, she knew a solid weak point that often got him up if he ended up falling asleep before one of their tutoring sessions: tickling his sides.

 The action did not shoot him straight awake, but it was enough to shock his brain into making him open his eyes, and groggily lift his head up. 

 At first, it was clear he was about to settle back into the sleep he just awoke from, but before his eyes fully shut, they opened once more as he processed he was not laying on his mattress, but instead his girlfriend and the sleepy grin that appeared as he lifted his head once more and gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes was a sight [Y/N] would never get used to no matter how much she saw it. 

 “Good mornin’ babe…” Rodrick mumbled as he began to lean down to give her a good morning kiss too, before he was promptly pushed away with a gentle hand.

 “Your morning breath is atrocious, sweetheart,” [Y/N] pointed out with a quiet laugh, “It could kill.”

 “C’mon, you know I would never kill you, babe.” Rodrick pouted, “Now c’mon and give me a good morning kiss.”

 Rodrick instead kissed all over her face as [Y/N] kept moving her head to avoid Rodrick meeting her lips, but their playfulness was cut short as they heard Susan’s voice from down the staircase calling up to them: 

 “Rodrick! [Y/N]! It’s time for breakfast!” 

 And fearing that Susan would come in to check on things, the pair moved--Rodrick faster than he ever had in the morning--to get [Y/N] into the air mattress. It was a bit of a scramble and [Y/N] nearly tripped getting off the twin bed, but she had slipped under the throw blanket on the air mattress just as Susan began her descent up the staircase, and the teenagers pretended to be asleep.

 Until they heard the sigh and Susan making her way back down the stairs, their eyes were shut but the moment she heard his mother’s voice away from the attic door, [Y/N] quietly slipped off the air mattress and made her way back to Rodrick’s bed, where she leaned down to give his a soft kiss on the lips.

 “We should probably go down stairs soon, sweetheart.”

 Rodrick opened his eyes at the feeling and smiled up at [Y/N], who smiled down at him in return. 

 “I hate it when you’re right, babe.”

 It was this moment they both realized something very important, very pivotal.

 They both loved the other, and it was a somewhat scary yet exciting thought.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid