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bugclot · 9 months

Text

Ten Steps Ahead

You've found yourself in a stucky sticky situation after getting caught snooping in Bucky's drawers after he took your favorite thong as a punishment for teasing him and Steve with it on, so the two best pals decide to take it in their own heroic hands.

content: 18+, dubcon, dom!bucky barnes x dom!steve rogers x sub reader, spanking, choking, sort of angst, bucky & steve punishing brat reader, humiliation, hair pulling, edging, bj, cucky bucky, fuck just read all my kinks and have fUn.

"Manners, darling. Now, what do you say to Steve?"

"Thank you, Captain."

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Bucky and Steve both just love to find different ways to gain control of you. Even when you think for a second that you're ahead, they just always seem to be ten steps further. Shit. This time, you had gotten in minor trouble with Buck, earning yourself basically a "time-out" in your room at the base while the rest of the crew went out for bowling (or so you thought), also resulting in him taking yet your new favorite lace panties—asshole. Too bad you're too much of a pain in the ass to just stay put, you're gonna go get them back.

You've found yourself walking down to his apartment-suite which was just down the hall from yours, you made sure to check around to make sure the coast was clear—little did you know you missed a few spots. You used your key that Bucky had given you back when you two, well, three, have started your interesting little friendship. Being the fairly new and quite stubborn avenger you were, the two men took it upon themselves to put you in your place whenever needed be. I'll save you the lore. You softly shut the door and slink your way through his cozy yet humble apartment to the bedroom, you head straight for the dresser and begin to rummage.

It isn't long before you're joined by someone else. You hear an "Aha." and it startles you, you turn and boom.

"Ten steps further I see." you say in your mind, feeling defeated once more, staring at the blonde broad. Of fucking course Bucky sent Steve. His right hand man, just to check in on your activities. Steve wasn't really your favorite person to work with, you always hated his captain-savior complex he seemed to always have trailing behind him, at least that's what it seemed like to you. Many times Tony and you enjoyed playfully jabbing at Steve, just to tease him and share your mutual annoyance with the super soldier, with Bucky eyeing you down with a warning look every time.

"Y/N." Steve announces, his voice laced with sternness. "What do you think you're doing?" This tone attempted to pierce through your ego, but you didn't let it. You eye your stolen garment, it's hanging off of his index finger and you scoff, "Did Bucky send you to watch me or something?" you ask while crossing your arms. "Buck had a hunch you'd be out of your room, as did I." He looks down at your undergarment, toying with it and speaks again, "You're definitely not getting these back."

The nerve.

You roll your eyes and walk towards him, he looks up upon hearing your movement, shifts his weight, ready for anything. You stop in front of him—toe to toe, looking up at him, confidence tattooed all over you. "Steve—" "That's Cap to you." He interrupted you, fixed on your stature. Right. Captain and Sergeant when they're in control over you. But, who does he think he is? Playing big and bad with you? You see, it was easy to be such a brat to Steve, he wasn't as harsh as Bucky, that's who truly humbled you when need be. "Aye aye, Captain Rogers," you mockingly salute him, "Give me my shit back. Don't make this harder than it has to be." Steve furrows his eyebrows, "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" he purses, "Do you know what year it is? Shut the fuck up." You spat and make a sudden reach for his hand, he quickly and swiftly grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks and lets out a huff, "That language back in my day would earn you a good old fashioned punishment. Haven't Bucky and I taught you that yet?" Your heart rate begins to pick up from adrenaline as you try to break from his grip upon him putting his hands on you, "Let me-" you stop yourself as you notice someone behind him—standing tall, buff, and in full tactical gear, not an outfit he'd go bowling in.

Bucky.

Goddamn, does he have to look so menacing? He seems to be burning a hole through you with his icy stare, arms crossed showcasing the definition of his build even more. "Y/N." He says, nothing else.

He paralyzes you, you've been caught.

Steve turns his head to look at his best pal, as he tosses your garment to him, and Bucky gives him a nod. Steve returns the gesture and turns back to you, he chuckles slightly under his breath as he brings you to the side of the bed facing the drawer and sits down, he attempts to bend you over his knee but you put on a struggle, no way he's about to take the reins,

"Wh-" you start,

You remember your other dear dominant friend is watching you. Knowing what he'd do to you, you comply. All of a sudden you feel the sharp sting of Steve's hand make contact with your backside through your Nike Pros, the ones that Bucky loves to see you prance around and train in. You hesitate to protest knowing this is all his doing until Steve makes contact again. "Fuck." You slip out. He lands another three smacks before responding to you, "Language." You try to claw at Steve's pant leg in protest, "Okay, okay, fine! You win." You chirp out as Steve starts up again—hard. Your cheeks on your face begin to heat from embarrassment, and unfortunately slight pleasure from this, along with feelings of defeat striking along with Steve's rhythm. Knowing that Bucky is simply watching, facilitating this, drives you up the wall. This is the ideal punishment for you.

Always ten steps ahead.

What feels like twenty counts later, you feel a nosy hand glide down to your helplessly soaked snatch, you close your eyes and labor your breathing as he slightly thumbs your clit through your pants, causing you to accidentally whine out. That sensation stops as Steve continues to rain down on your backside.

After five more minutes of fighting to get up from Steve and him effortlessly pinning your arm against your lower back, which seems like forever, Bucky's voice surprises you, "Stand up."

Immediately you hop off Steve's lap and step away from him, trying not to meet that look on his face. "Take off your clothes." Bucky growls, his request sent aches straight through your already ruined core, you wrinkle your eyebrows at him and motion to Steve. As if this wasn't enough? He's sitting in victory on the bed. You squeak out, "Buck—" He uncrosses his arms and cuts you off, "Sarge." He corrects. Ah, yeah. You look down nervously and he speaks up again, "You just don't listen, do you? How many times have we gone through this, doll?" Doll. You slowly strip in front of the two fully clothed super soldiers, feeling powerless and humiliated. Ironically, you're not wearing any panties, huh, thanks a lot to Bucky! The weight of the room was heavy, similar to the feeling of a predator stalking its' prey, you knew that if you made one wrong move, you'd be pounced on.

The drift from the room and the eyes from the two men cause goosebumps to form all over. Steve looks at the mess between and on your inner thighs and laughs, him and his old pal exchange looks as if they're speaking in their own language telepathically. Your breathing pattern changes, anticipating the next move from either one of these devils. Your breathing catches Bucky's attention and he smirks seeing his precious little brat being humbled by him and his own best friend, he motions Steve to grab you once again, which he does with ease and pulls you on the bed with him.

Bucky, leaning against the nightstand against the wall facing the foot of the bed, his hands on the stand holding his weight behind him. "So you're enjoying this, huh?" He asks as Steve leans back on the headboard as he positions you leaning against him, head back on his shoulder with your legs spread and womanhood drooling for attention. He has your left arm held with his, with his right arm over your other, giving him perfect access. His right hand clawing agonizingly lightly on your upper thigh. "Not so talkative now, Y/N." He says with rasp in his voice. You wiggle around to try to give your abused backside room to breathe. "Steve, shut the fuck up." You grunt out. Oh, how you hated to be belittled, as stubborn as you are. Without hesitation, he slaps your inner thigh, causing you to quietly cry out. He then says, "You're in the wrong position to be this bold, Y/N." The tone of his voice makes your nipples jump, you know that your body belongs to Steve and Bucky, but your mind has a mind of its' own. Steve lets out a "tsk, tsk, tsk," as he punishes your thigh in the same place again, you flinch, your arm tired from the position Steve has it in. Bucky speaks up at you with a demanding tone, "Y/N, look me in the eyes." You hesitate, then look at the metal armed soldier, "What have I told you about teasing Daddy like that?" he coos, you part your lips to respond but you're cut off with a set of fingers teasing at your clit, agonizingly slow. You have no choice but to moan out in response to this sudden action from Steve, and the exacting tone from Bucky which made you so goddamn sensitive. You try your best to keep your eye contact with Bucky, his emotionless brooding against your drooling, pretty little face. "Prancing around in these?" He holds up the laced, revealing underwear that had gotten you into this, Bucky continues, "Teasing me and Steve like that? You're such a mindless little hot mess. Look at you." He was right. Absolutely right. Naked, hot and bothered under these two, legs spread for the world to see, showcasing your soaked center, sweat dribbled on your face along with the drool coming from your mouth from your mouth being ajar. Steve picks up his pace, driving your heart rate to pick up, causing you to lose your eye contact with Bucky, letting your head fall back into Steve's built shoulder. "Look at me." Bucky snarls, you pick your head up with the little strength you have and your eyes start to water, "I'm sorry, Sarge." You feebly apologize. Steve looks at you, watching your flushed face as you play staring contest with Buck. Steve lets his middle and ring finger slip to your entrance, not going in completely but keeping them there, while he allows his thumb to press down on your center, causing your back to arch and for you to near,

"Hmm," He sings to your ear, "I think I want you to cum for me, Y/N." Those words alone could have sent you over the edge if it wasn't for Bucky to immediately shoot that chance down by opposing to you, "Y/N, not until I say so. You know your place." You let your eyes roll to the ceiling. The opposing sides drives you insane. Listening to Steve would earn you another punishment from Bucky, and listening to Bucky would earn you--well, more of this relentless teasing from Steve.

Bucky glides to the foot of the bed, not breaking his eye contact, "Hey, eyes on me." He snaps and you immediately look back at him, "Don't you dare. You hear me?" His words doing a number on you, he knows exactly what he's doing.

Bucky held the panties that caused all of this with his right hand and climbs on the bed shuffling closer to you, he then shoves them over your mouth, holding them there and holds himself up on your thigh with his metal hand. Your eyes roll back as you use everything in you to follow his orders. Steve looks down at you as well, as you're still leaning back on his shoulder,

"Don't you dare fucking cum." Bucky growls over you, while Steve is telling you the opposite.

"Cum for me, honey,"

"Don't even think about it, doll."

"It feels so good, doesn't it?"

"Don't give me a reason to punish you again."

Overstimulation tears come from your eyes. Embarrassment from this forced submission, pleasure, and irritation sends electric shocks down to your core, you breathe unevenly through your nose, looking Bucky straight in the eyes as he gags you. The cold yet satisfying touch of his metal hand on your thigh not helping at all as the hefty pit in your stomach only grows by the minute. You shake under Steve and Bucky's touch.

You whine out the best little, "Please, daddy," you could against the cloth, your breathing getting heavier, to which Bucky responds to you with a "What was that?" And squeezing your thigh, obviously knowing what you said. The clit stimulation, the teasing at your entrance, the asphyxiation, and slight fear of Bucky's next moves, as well as the back and forth, sends you into overdrive. Your throat is raw from the whining and moaning done. Your eyes flicker as you reach the summit—giving into Steve's soft dominant request, going against Bucky's. Steve smirks down at you and he sighs against your ear, "That's my good girl." You struggle to breathe as you recover from your high. When you seem to be barely caught up on your breathing, Bucky removes his hands and scoots to the edge of the bed, taking you with him by gripping your thighs and sliding you against him. "Trembling under daddies' touches." He growled to himself. The fury in his eyes give you a mix of angst and more pleasurable aches shaking through you once again.

Bucky keeps your right leg up over his shoulder, securing you with his metal arm, he slaps your soaked pussy and you cry out a very pornographic cry, "So, so disobedient. I thought I told you not to cum?" His voice booms through your dizzy head as you apologize meekly. His hand comes down again and again, causing you to arch and wiggle around, "Buc- Sergeant, I'm sorry! Please," You whimper out as he punishes your swollen core, he says nothing as he rubs your slit in between his strikes.

He then takes his arm holding you and places his hand around your neck, restricting your breathing in a more grizzly manner. You don't dare move your leg from his shoulder as you just take everything given to you, not wanting to further press the two —especially Bucky. "You like that, don't you?" He mocks you as you start to see stars, with your poor womanhood crying onto the bed, your shaky hands rise to his metal arm to clutch him, wanting to breathe. Your vision grows blurry and Bucky lets you go, yet still keeping a protective hand on your collarbone.

You bite your lip to hold your tongue when you realize that whining will get you nowhere, you start to regret teasing your nighttime superiors like how you did the night before, you being told to stop, but you, being the stubborn brat you are to them, you kept going. Bucky stops and grabs your face, you felt the wetness from yourself on his hand, he looks at you hungrily. His metal hand slowly guides down your body, finally going over places you craved touch in, a pit stop at your nipples and your lower stomach. His hand never left your face as he begins to tease at your clit with his other, his pace picking up quickly as you liked, he then slips one finger in to fuck you, then his second. You loved when he used his metal hand because of how it felt inside of you. Bucky shocked you by a small slap to your face with his right hand, "Have you learned your lesson?" He asks, not letting up with his busy fingers, you nod your head quickly and he slaps you again, "Gonna pull that stunt again, Y/N?" You feel that same heavy pit once again causing you to tighten around his fingers, "Mmm, n- no sir, sergeant." You practically yell out.

Bucky then flips you over to your stomach and claws both his hands down your back to your warmed ass. "I would have turned this beautiful little ass raw." He chuckles and looks up at his pal. Steve laughs in response, "No appreciation for my work done?" He teases. Bucky—using his metal hand, smacks your backside, you give him a shaky moan, he then grabs hold of your hair and forcefully lifts your head up to face Steve. He was rubbing over his bulge in his pants and looking down at you, raising an eyebrow. "Y/N? What do we say to Steve?" Bucky says with chaff in his voice, you didn't respond, Bucky loosened his grip to allow you to lift yourself onto your elbows and knees and aligned yourself with his groin, arching your back, he tightens his grip once more, waiting for your response, you look to the side as you start quietly, "Th–thank you—" Bucky slaps your ass again sharply and leans down into you,

"Manners, darling. Now, what do you say to Steve?"

"Thank you, Captain." you chirp out, clear as day and attentive.

Steve shifts himself as he slowly reaches down into his pants, obviously rubbing himself, "What was that, Y/N?"

Bucky spanks you again.

"Thank you, Captain." Your face fills with heat again as the words come out of your mouth, 'I'm never gonna live this down.', you think to yourself as you suddenly feel a familiar feeling against your womanhood. You close your eyes as Bucky's tip brushes at your clit, "Fuuuck, doll, you're so..." You hear him groan out, trailing off, he slowly moves himself up and down your slit making you want to grind yourself against him, he takes his time teasing you before he pushes himself inside of you. You croak out upon impact and he growls animalistically as he thrusts himself into you.

This is all what you craved.

Every ridge, every vein, every detail about Bucky's cock always made you into a weak little mess. You grip the sheets in front of you, surely causing them to rip as Bucky doesn't let up from his grip on your hair as he pounds into you, your mouth hangs wide open as you lose control of yourself, drool creating a pool before you. You're certain that the sounds of him smacking into your sensitive skin echoed throughout the entire base--thank fuck it was just the three of you. The moans spilling from you were unreal, especially when Bucky reached his free hand down to play with your core, saying things breathlessly like: "You take my cock so well," and "You're gonna tease me like that again? Hm?"...and, "You deserve every single second of this.", to which you would reply in broken cries, "Yes sir, Sarge." and "I'm sorry, Sarge,"...and, "Thank you, Sarge.".

Steve was enjoying the scene in front of him as he now had his manhood fully out, stroking it and moaning down at you. Bucky takes his hand from under you and once again slaps your ass, he grunts out, "Tell him thank you, doll," you obliged, "Thank you, Captain!" You whimper when he repeats his action and says, "Say it like you fucking mean it." I definitely meant it. "Hmm! Thank you, Cap—" You were then cut off by Steve setting up on his knees and shoving himself inside your mouth out of nowhere, Bucky lets go of your hair and grabs hold of your hips to truly drill into you, surely making more marks against your abused ass, which made you tighten around him. You choke around the red, white, and blue cladded man as he places his hand on the side of your face, bucking his hips into your mouth. Steve uses his left hand to grasp your hair for a better angle, while he moves his right from your face to gather both your arms to pin them on your back. Both men grunt into you as they use you. Control you. Exactly how they like it. You feel powerless against the two super soldiers as they completely wear you out, tears of pain and pleasure stinging in your eyes once again.

Next time, you'll definitely be sure to tease them both harder. Though, always know they'll be ten steps ahead.

#stucky smut #dom!bucky #dom!steve rogers #shameless smut #female reader #punishment smut #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #mcu smut

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solarlunarsstuff · 11 months

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Can you write Mike Taking readers virginity or mutual masterbation where he is more dominant and a lot of praise pleaseee

YESSSS, I'll do both my lovely anon💞! (Also if u want to be a certain emoji type of anon u can put "-Anon🦈" or smth like that)

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙

☆ Double Night Guards ☆

Synopsis: You were both hired to watched an old run down pizzeria, while Mike and you only had subtle interactions he still thought it count. You would mostly clean the place up here and there, while Mike stayed back in the office watching the camera's, if he wanted to do this he would have to do it quick before you came back...

Tw: mutual pining, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, foul language, LOTS of praise, virginity loss (reader), manhandiling, Dacryphilia, dumbification, mentions of pregnancy, creampies, slow burn-ish, somniphilia, hair pulling, body worship, pet names, full Nelson, smut n' flufff, and nice after care.

A/n: Also I'm sorry other anon my bsf typed 'sure' on it and posted it but I couldn't get it back but I hope it was similar to this... :((

You were both hired about a week ago, you still haven't gotten used to your new sleep schedule but you did manage to get up. Only a few minutes late.

Surprised that you woke up early today, you had gotten ready eaten breakfast and drove off for work.

It was obvious you were going to be getting there earlier than Mike, so you decided to look around the pizzeria for some cleaning utilities. You did find them in a closet near the end of the hall.

You grabbed what you needed and got to work, starting in the bathrooms would be a bad idea so you decided to stroll near the front of the run down restaurant.

It took you about 10 minutes to move all of the furniture, stacking the children chairs in a corner and pick up the loose trash off of the dirty carpets.

You had music blasting and hadn't noticed Mike had entered through the double glass doors. He was nervously standing there not knowing what to do, he decided to tap on your shoulder.

That quite obviously scared the living shit out of you, whipping your body around and your shirt and vest hiked up your body a bit.

You had giggled lightly and picked up remaining trash beind you on the danty carpet, you heard Mike shift a little bit behind you. Weird...

"Scared the fuck out of me, Mike!" You laughed out

He rested his right hand behind the nape of his neck while awkwardly stuttering.

"Uhh, I-I'll just g-go to the, uhm.." Mike was clearly struggling

"Office?"

"Yeah, that.."

You told him that you wanted to stay out here and clean around the place because of how gross it was and how it was making your dust allergy kick in.

Mike just nodded in response and walked swiftly away to the shared office you both had, he was kind of relieved that you weren't watching cameras.

He would get the worst aching boner because of you. Mike would become so desperate that he would be clenching the armrests of his chair.

Besides that he was not as overwhelmed as much, that was good, he just sat there and watched the cameras. Checking on the animatronics and something else...

Job wise, you and him were good colleagues. You both have respect for each other and respect boundaries. But he wanted to cross the line, he wanted to see how far you could go without overdoing it.

Mike would have to shift himself in his pants everytime you would bend over to grab something. You broke something in him, he was getting needier the more you both came to work.

You had just finished cleaning the dining area and moved onto the stage where the main 3 were. Opening the curtains manually and shining your flashlight in to see what you were working with.

That didn't matter to Mike, what mattered was how you looked when you had the bottom half of your body hanging off the edge of the duty stage while the top was laying down trying to dust best as possible without stepping onto the stage.

That's when he broke, in that exact moment. 'What if- I could be quick, right, she won't know..' Mike told himself.

He focused onto the old beat up camera screen while palming himself through his jeans, he used the back of his other hand to muffle his deep groans that came out of him.

Mike was extremely focused on you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and boxers to the end of his thigh. Precum was dripping mini droplets from the slit on the top of his pretty red tip.

He slowly started to palm himself, making sure not to be to loud, Mike took his time and played with his slit and continued to lather precum on his whole length.

Mike ruffled his hair back while he picked his pace up a bit, he let his head hang back while he lolled his tongue out a little. (Futureman reference)

He nearly came when he saw that you had dropped something under a table and had to get on all fours to try and reach for it. Your ass sticking out from behind you.

Mike whimpered from the way you moved, you had taken your vest off and had a black tank top on that made your tits almost spill out when you walked.

He thrusted into his hand and started to moan a little but not to loud, as he was cautious so you wouldn't find out.

Mike's cock was twitching, that was telling him that he was getting closer to his release.

"Fuckkk, {Y/n}-" he groaned

Then the coil in him snapped apart, he came. There's was a lot rolling down his knuckles, his bare thighs, and some splatters got onto the camera screens.

His chest was heaving heavily, soft whispers of your name could be heard from his mouth. Mike reached for his tissues and cleaned himself along with whatever was hit.

Right after Mike threw the last of the mess away into the trash, you entered the room. Also breathing heavily, from the cleaning of course. He fixed his clothing and sat back down onto the chair, manspreading.

This man did wonders on you, but he was so oblivious that it was cute. But when he did that pose. Oh it went straight down to your core, making your walls flutter with excitement.

But you couldn't just take your bottom of right there and spread your legs open and start fingering yourself while playing with your-

You just couldn't, you didn't even know him like that. So you just had to wait, the last of the 4 hours of your shift. Tonight was going to be long..

You would both awkwardly stand there and not utter a word, you noticed that Mike had extremely heavy eyebags.

"Hey, if your tired, you could sleep..I could take over.." you uttered cautiously

His eyes lit up, he nodded a yes and moved to where you were sitting and switched spots. Throwing yourself onto the office chair.

Looking at the cameras seeing that nothing was wrong, you peered over your shoulder to see a beautiful man sleeping before you. I mean, you could?

"Fuck it.." you mumbled barely over a whisper

You didn't want to take all of your clothes off so you came up with a better plan.

While slipping your hand into your pants, teasing yourself through your panties. Glancing from the old cameras to Mike's sleeping body.

You used your hand to grip the armrest part of the chair, getting a bit frustrating. You slipped your delicate fingers past your panties.

Circling your clit and picking up your slick from your needy hole to lather over your throbbing clit. You let out a huff but quickly silenced yourself once you saw that Mike started to stir.

But that didn't mean you were stopping, putting more pressure onto your clit made you gasp. That wasn't even enough.

You picked your pace up and started to slip two fingers into your gaping hole, the silence was loud only to be interrupted by the slick noises of your throbbing cunt.

"Shiiiit- Mike-" you loudly whispered

You started to finger yourself faster and used your palm to rub your clit. This got you closer, making you let out little ah ah ah's every time you slipped in and out.

That's when you burst, your thighs were shaky and your cum was covering your panties and hand. You got up quietly and rushed to the bathroom to wash your hands. And you came back to continue your shift.

And soon it reached 6 AM, you gently woke Mike up.

"What is it?" He groggliy asked

He must've forgotten we were at work.. you thought

"Mike, our shift just ended, we can go home now." You told while putting your jacket on and gathering your belongings.

He mouthed an oh and got up to grab his stuff. You both got out of the pizzeria and Mike locked up, that was because you couldn't trust yourself with keys whatsoever.

You lived a few houses down from Mike which wasn't bad, if him needed anything he would probably come to you first.

Before Mike got into his car you called his name.

"Hey, uhh, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night? I was told that we don't have a shift until next week.." you shyly asked

"Uhm, yeah!"

"Oh, also, you can bring Abby!" You happily smiled at him before getting into your car.

And with that, you drove off back to your house. Heart beating rapidly from inviting your coworker over to your house for dinner.

You had no idea what to cook, but then it hit you. You've babysat Abby before, and you knew what food she liked the most. Spaghetti and pizza.

So you got to work, you obviously made the pizza a day before because making homemade pizza dough takes hours to rise. So you didn't want to rush anything.

After an hour or so, you had left the dough in a bowl with plastic wrap on the top to let it rise. And so with that, you went to take a nap.

You woke up around 4 PM, you kind of forgot what time to tell Mike to come over. So you called him.

Ring!

He finally answered and asked who this was.

"Hey, it's {Y/n} I forgot to tell you what time to come, for, you know, dinner.."

"Anyway, I was thinking 5:30?" You continued

His side of the line went a bit silent.

"Yeah, sounds great. Me and Abby will be there in awhile.." his raspy voice coughed out

You both said your goodbyes and you went straight to the kitchen. Having to make the spaghetti, doesn't seem hard. So you finished that within an hour and set the table as best you could.

You waited in the living room until you heard a knock on your door. Must be them! You thought.

You shuffled to put a jacket on while stumbling to the foyer. You fixed your hair a bit and opened the door.

"Heyy, come on in you guys!" You warmly smiled at Abby and Mike.

Abby rushed in and hugged you by your waist, you happily sighed and hugged her back. Mike just awkwardly stood there and waited.

You let Abby go and took Mike's hand to lead him through your house while Abby let herself in and excitedly explored.

Mike reminded her not to be as nosy at home and not to break anything. You giggled a little from the sibling interactions that they had.

Once all three of you got into your kitchen you showed them to the made dining table. You never saw Abby so happy, she sat down and beckoned for you and Mike to come over.

You both sat down and made plates, after about an hour. Abby was sitting on the living room floor while she watched TV. You and Mike were observing from afar.

"She's so cute, I wish I had my own kid.." you sighed

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mike flush a tint of red on his cheeks, while scratching the nape of his neck.

Don't say it. Don't say it. He told himself.

"Well, what if...what if I gave you one?" He stuttered a bit but had some confidence in him.

Your eyes widened but soon turned into a soft smile.

"I would love that, Mike.." you said while resting your arms on his shoulders

"Oh!" His voice was above a whisper

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips and walked toward Abby. Leaving Mike all hot and bothered.

"Hey Abs, do you have school tomorrow?" You kindly asked while resting your hands on your knees.

She shook her head.

"I was thinking, what would you think of a sleep over at my house tonight?" You told her

She jumped up and hugged you while thanking you and asking where she would sleep.

You lead her to a guest room and let her choose a pillow and blanket to use, she smiled and got her bed ready.

"If you want, you can continue watching TV until 12 PM." You smiled

She thanked you again and ran off down stairs. Leaving you and Mike alone, you had brought him to your room.

"So, about that baby you were going to give me..." you inquired

He turned beet red, reenacting what he had said to you earlier. Mike's expression softened and he sat on the edge of your bed while holding your left hip and your cheek.

Mike nodded and pulled you into a kiss, it was sloppy but needy. He pulled you onto his lap and pulled on your hair so it made him look down at you.

You moaned into his mouth from the pressure, he smiled against your lips. Moving down to your neck leaving hickeys where he wanted them. Mike obviously made sure to lock your bedroom door before he sat down.

Mike tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over you head showing that you hadn't worn any sort of bra, he whimpered at the sight of you bare.

Just for him, his good girl. And his only good girl.

Mike attached his wet lips to one of your plump breast. He sucked and gave it kitten licks. His actions as of now made your head roll back as you started to roll your hips on his clothed dick.

He bit lightly onto your harden nipple to see your reaction and oh did he get one. You pushed Mike's head further into your chest, unlocking something in him.

He sucked a little harder and thrusted his hips up to meet your low grinding. Groaning into your breasts sending sensational waves through you.

Mike could spend hours touching your tits, just squishing them or giving them little kisses is his go to when he's with you almost all the time.

As of right now, all he wanted to do was give you pleasure and so he did. Mike looked up at you through his half lidded eyes and licked a strip from the bottom to the top of your boobs.

Throwing your head back and babbling incoherent words under your breath.

"Mikey, please! I need it, right now! Please, I'll be a good girl!"

He loved the little nickname Mikey. It sends butterflies straight to his stomach, wanting- needing you.

That was it, he couldn't take it anymore. He struggled a little to get all of his clothing items off but he was soon bare and he ripped your shorts and panties along with one swift movement of his hands.

Mike loved how you were wet for him, making his cock's tip was already leaking with his pretty precum.

Giving himself a few strokes making him twitch in his own hand. Mike let go and positioned you so your head was on a pillow and put another pillow under your lower back.

"Alright baby, are you ready? It might hurt, its okay." Mike whispered beautiful nothings into your ear.

"Gonna start with the tip, okay darlin'?" Fuck, he was doing a number on you with his voice.

Mike swiped his cock head along your folds, making you huff out in sexual frustration.

"Deep breath in..." he muttered loud enough for you to understand before slowly rutting his tip into you.

The head was tugging on your cunt, his praise made your pussy to become slick with your juices.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay my love?" You only nodded in response and waited

It was abrupt, it stung but it felt so fucking good. Mike had only made it a little bit more than halfway before you started to nudge closer to him so he could bottom out.

"Aww, little whore wants more? I'll give you more you fucking slut-" he grunted while thrusting his hips into you entirely.

Arching your back off of the bed and nearly loosing your eyesight from rolling your eyes to the back of your head. Mike chuckled lightly while slowly rolling his hips, in and out of your sopping cunt.

"Thought you wanted it sweetheart?" He teased

He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed them a little, getting the perfect view of how your needy pussy was taking him. Mike soon lifted your right leg onto his shoulder while the other planted into the mattress.

Mike picked his pace up a bit and started to feel a knot forming in his stomach, as he moved faster and faster until he couldn't move any faster. He grew bored of the position you were in so he gripped the back sides of both of your thighs and moved up and rested your knees on either side of your head.

Eye widening that you were capable of folding like that, not complaining. He continued to fuck his cock into your puffy cunt. You tightened your walls around him.

"Fuucckkk, this pussy is just milkin' me isn't it?" He grunted

You were close, it was obvious because you let little ah's out and your breathing became uneven. Your thighs were trembling a little.

"Gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you?" His grunts became his breath sharpening through his gritted teeth.

You nodded aggressively, giving him the go. It only took a few more pumps until you clenched around him, having your eyes roll back while whispering his name incoherently.

Mike came right after, filling your pretty pussy with his hot seed. He pulled out and saw how your cunt clenched around nothing and his cum spilling out.

He sighed and got up to the connected bathroom of your room and got a damp towel to clean you both up before he gathered a new pair of clothing and dressed you and himself.

Cuddling up, spooning you and letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Did s' good for me, princess.." he mumbled while nearly drifting off.

Rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

"I love you {Y/n}, I always have." Mike gave a quick kiss on your cheek before dozing off while warmly wrapping around you like a love letter.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

I'm so sorry if this is half assed. This is one of the longest fics I've ever written. School just sucks and I type on my phone for writing (I don't have a laptop lmao). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this, love you pooksters 🫶💤 (I'll prob work on the other fics in a later time. Sorry my luvs💞)

#fnaf #josh hutcherson #michael afton #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x reader #smut #michael afton x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #half assed #fanfic #fnaf movie #fnaf smut

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 12 days

Note

You seem like an incredibly well read person, plus someone with a lot of insight into intimacy because of your work. So, in light of your romance book reviews, which are an absolute highlight on your patreon, do you have any insight into what is needed/suggested for a good romance novel?

g o d this is so fucking hard and also really fun to chew on. I want to preface this by saying this is ENTIRELY subjective and based completely on what I *PERSONALLY* find that I enjoy in a romance. this isn't, like, an objective guide on how to write a romance that doesn't suck. that doesn't exist because people like different things, and I'm speaking from one perspective.

also I should say that my preferred flavor of romance novel is solidly contemporary. I haven't read many historicals, certainly not enough to opine well on them, I don't do those mafia dark romances or whatever the fuck, and I've barely dabbled at all in any kind of fantasy romance, whether they're full high fantasy or witchy urban fantasy stories. (although I'm about to do one of the latter next month, you can vote for a book on my patreon rn!)

having gotten all of those caveats out of the way, here's some shit I like and dislike:

there are exceptions to this but broadly, I prefer a POV for everyone involved in the relationship. to me a romance where we're only seeing events from the POV of one member of the relationship automatically makes it seem like one person matters more in a dynamic where everyone should be of equal importance. also, god, if the plot's really going to hinge on not knowing what's going on in one partner's head suggests that miscommunication is going to be a pretty critical part of the plot, and I hate that shit. TALK TO EACH OTHER. I'LL KILL YOU.

on that note, there needs to be an actual compelling reason why the characters can't be together, okay? the #1 driving tension of every romance is "why the fuck can't they be together yet" and you BETTER have a good answer. whether it's interpersonal or external forces, if there's a very easy solution to what's keeping them apart then your characters look dumb and I'm bored. one of the most frustrating romances I've ever read involved two characters who were mutually attracted to each from the JUMP, who refused to act on it because they were coworkers (neither of them in any position of authority of the other, nothing unprofessional or inappropriate about it) and they were "only" living in the same state for A YEAR. A FULL YEAR !!! shut up. get a grip and kiss each other.

now, having said that: whatever your bullshit reason is for these two characters to be interacting with each other, you need to COMMIT to that shit so hard that I, the reader, will feel silly for even questioning the logic. the worst offender I've ever seen on this front is D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding, which pulls its protagonists together via a reality TV competition and then just... promptly loses any interest in really dealing with the actual realities of being filmed 24/7? it's insanely distracting how little the book engages with its central hook, and was a huge point deduction for me. whereas you have, like, The Bride Test, a book with a premise that skirts dangerously close to a little bit of human trafficking but embraces the whole premise so wholeheartedly that you completely forget about the potentially horrific elements in there. who cares that Esme was bribed here with the promise of a green card if she seduces a man she's never met? there's whimsy happening! we've moved on! it's literally fine and she's in no danger except the danger of a BROKEN HEART.

this one is going to seem SO obvious but like. I need them to be actually like each other. I'm not saying they can't be mutually bitchy while they grow to like each other or anything, they don't have to always be NICE to each other, but there are so many M/F romances where the dude is just flat out fucking MEAN and condescending to the girl until he decides he wants to fuck her. and sometimes even after that! stop it! after a certain point I don't want her to fuck him I want her to run him over a car!!!! there's suuuuch a line between "guy I butt heads and exchange banter with but could fuck if we just got to know each other" and "man who hates me and is for real fucking bullying me."

"kisses only," "doors closed," whatever term they use for a romance novel without any sex scenes on page, I don't like it. listen: I know that they're not everybody's cup of tea, and I FULLY recognize that a lot of romance novel sex scenes are unfathomably cringe. and yet, I need them. partly because they're funny, but also because if this book wants me to be invested in the developing relationship between two adults who are supposed to be WILDLY sexually attracted to each other, then I want to see the damn sex. no matter how many bad similes or unfortunate adjectives it entails. and if you're not going to show me the sex, don't you dare have the characters gushing about how great it is. I'll be the judge of that, thank you very much. (I'm looking at you, Sorry, Bro.)

related: there's this thing that I call "Horny Wolf Syndrome," which is derived from this tweet:

initially I used it to refer to when previously sweet-tempered male romance protags inexplicably started talking like horny wovles during sex scenes - "LET ME SEE YOUR PRETTY CUNT ON MY COCK" and the like - but now I more generally use it to refer to scenarios in which characters of any gender completely dispense with their established personality while they fuck in order to fulfill a more broadly appealing, one-size-fits-all sexual fantasy. I hate that shit; if your characters act like completely unrecognizable people during sex, you didn't write very strong characters. one of my favorite things about writing sex scenes is that it's so SO interesting to see how their the characters' personal quirks translate into a setting that's very different from most other contexts, and it's deeply disappointing when authors take the easy route in favor of some pornhub dialogue.

one of the things that actually won my most recent read, Raiders of the Lost Heart, a HUGE amount of points with me was how frank the female lead was about initiating sex for the first time. it was completely in character for her and felt really different than any other book I've read, and honestly? it was a breath of fresh air.

#bookblr

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raspberryfingers · 5 months

Text

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 10)

WARNINGS: None

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: Let me say that I am SO sorry guys, I know I haven't updated in forever. This year has been genuine hell for me and because of that I really haven't had the time or mental capacity to update. It will probably stay that way, but hopefully I'll work through my chapters slowly. Thank you all so much for being understanding.

—————

I was determined to change Tywin’s mind. It was something I commonly attempted, and very rarely did not succeed in. However, he was quite relentless upon the subject of marrying Sansa Stark to Tyrion, along with marrying Cersei to Loras. I personally had no intention of letting that stand.

In my opinion, it was clear that his daughter had gotten to his head about my house plotting against theirs. It was understandable to want Sansa Stark for themselves, but I would under no circumstance allow Loras to marry Cersei Lannister.

And so, just as I constantly did now, I found myself in the Hand’s office. Conversation and interaction with the Hand of the King had become a daily ritual, it seemed.

“Good morning, Tywin,” I said, being let into his office and finding him at his desk despite the fact that it was only 7:00 in the morning. He finished a thought and then set his quill down, looking up at me.

“You’re up rather early,” he noted, almost as if it didn’t apply to him either. I raised an eyebrow, folding my hands together.

“I have something to discuss with you that requires immediate attention, and I didn’t want to risk interfering with other meetings or plans, as this might be a long conversation,” I informed, making my way to his desk. As my shoes clacked against the stone floor, he sighed.

“I haven’t a clue what it is that you’d like to discuss,” he remarked sarcastically, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands in his lap.

“Do I need to tell Pycelle that you are having problems with your memory? I’m sure he’d be able to sympathize with you,” I teased him, grinning as I did. Tywin only gave me a look and shook his head.

“Very well, if it pleases you to continue the conversation that even your grandmother could not win, then we shall,” he said, standing from his chair and making his way around the desk. He pulled my chair out for me, and I thanked him with a nod, putting my hand under my skirts as I sat.

“I’m not my grandmother—I know you far better. I’m also not here to make excuses about why we don’t want Loras to marry Cersei, I’m here to explain why it makes no sense. Trust me on this, Tywin, I did plenty of thinking after my grandmother told me what you’d proposed,” I began, enjoying the amusement in his eyes as he sat across from me and sipped the water in his cup. This was going to be quite the conversation.

“Go on then, tell me why it ‘makes no sense’, as you say.”

I straightened in my chair, pressing my lips together for a moment and then beginning. “I know your daughter believes that we—the Tyrells—are plotting against you, and perhaps I can understand where she’s coming from. After all, it’s no secret that I previously had quite a lot of disdain for you. If it had been up to me alone, I probably would have plotted against you.”

Tywin raised his eyebrows, but I did not smile. This was a serious subject, there was no reason to.

“However, that is an utterly ridiculous notion due to the fact that I have always prioritized my siblings. If Cersei does not trust me, then so be it, but our alliance is going to be solidified by a marriage. And yes, we both know Margaery and Joffrey’s marriage is political, though that doesn’t change the fact that you need us for our gold and crops, just as we need you to validate Margaery’s claim as queen. We both benefit, Tywin. I should hope you studied enough science as a boy to know what the term mutualism means,” I said accusingly, to which he waved a hand as a silent ‘oh hush’ and scoffed.

“Yes, Margaery needs Joffrey to ‘officially’ have that title, but let’s not pretend that his title makes him the most powerful. By giving your sister access to him, we—or rather I—have allowed her to take quite a lot of power. Now, I would not go so far as to say that I agree with Cersei about the plotting, because most of her evidence is that Margaery has succeeded in manipulating Joffrey, just as you expected she would. That does not bother me at all, Joffrey needs it. What does bother me is that despite already having plenty of access to power, your family wants to thank me for it by seeking out even more. By stealing it from us,” Tywin said, looking away with aggravation. I sighed, shaking my head and gripping the arms of my chair as I replied.

“It is less about lowering House Lannister than it is strengthening House Tyrell. We have an eldest son that needs marrying and Sansa is the first Stark daughter, to me it seems natural. And, it is not as if your family had some sort of claim to her as anything besides a prisoner of war.”

Tywin huffed and adjusted his seat, beginning to open his mouth until I put my hand out to silence him. He glared, but let me speak anyway.

“Let me put it this way, then. I believe that our continued alliance means that Loras marrying Sansa would increase the power of both of our houses. If we have access to the north, then so do you by association,” I reasoned, raising my eyebrows at him to emphasize my words.

“Yes, in theory we would, but currently our alliance is only officially bound by a manipulative marriage. How am I to trust the strength of our alliance when that is its foundation?” Tywin replied, making me smile softly. Gods, he truly was naive sometimes.

“Their marriage is not its foundation, Tywin, we are. But nonetheless, I already prepared for you having such an opinion. That is why… well, why I am prepared to go to great lengths to ensure that you feel our alliance is strong enough to call off Loras’ marriage to Cersei, especially because Joffrey is a Baratheon in name,” I said, taking a deep breath. The Great Lion only stared at me, slightly turning his head with curiosity.

“To- to strengthen the alliance between our houses, I will- I will marry Tyrion. I have nothing to gain from marrying your son, only something to lose, and yet I will do it anyway if it convinces you that it is no real loss to call off the marriage between Cersei and Loras,” I announced shakily, pulling my hands into my lap so he would not see them tremble.

I watched Tywin’s face for a reaction, and was surprised to see his eyebrows raise and his mouth fall open. I’d truly managed to shock Tywin Lannister.

“You would marry Tyrion to prove our alliance strong?” He clarified, still gaping at me. I would have laughed, but the thought of marrying—not Tyrion specifically, but in general—terrified me. I swallowed and nodded, trying to stop the quivering in my hands.

“Not even Jaime? You are the eldest daughter, (Y/N),” he questioned, utterly bewildered. I only gave him a condescending look.

“Whether you want to accept it or simply live in delusion, Jaime is a part of the Kingsguard. Not to mention, he’s also not here,” I reminded him, to which he scoffed.

“You would truly marry Tyrion? You’re being serious?”

“Yes, I would marry him. That is how much I genuinely believe in our two houses working together rather than against each other. Does that satisfy you?” I said, trying not to let my tone waiver. I was pinching my wrist in my lap, dreading his verdict.

All that Tywin had ever wanted was to be rid of Tyrion, and previous marriage proposals with other houses had not gone so well for him. As he stared at me and contemplated, all I could expect was to hear him say yes. As he had just pointed out, I was the eldest Tyrell daughter. Why shouldn’t he want to marry me to Tyrion?

There was silence for several minutes, and I could see on his face that he was thinking. I hadn’t a clue what he was thinking about, for this seemed to be a very simple thing to me. If anything, I was surprised he hadn’t instantly accepted.

“No, it does not satisfy me. I would never let Tyrion marry you, he is not worthy of a woman such as yourself,” Tywin said finally, hand clenching onto the arm of his chair. Relief went through me, though I was slightly upset by the fact that Tywin was being so rude. “And even if Jaime was here, I wouldn’t marry him to you either. No man in all seven kingdoms is worthy of you.”

We both stared at each other in silence, and there was an odd tension in the air. My lips parted, and he inhaled slowly. We only snapped out of it when he forced himself to look away, reaching for his cup and taking a sip.

“Either way, you’ve proven your point. Our alliance is strong enough that we don’t need a further marriage bond. And, since it is so strong, we would both benefit from Sansa Stark’s claim. However, by your logic, if Sansa Stark were to marry Tyrion, then your family would receive the same benefits as before. There is no reason for me to cancel that betrothal,” Tywin reasoned then, making me scoff and shake my head.

“No. I’m grateful that you at least understand the lack of need to marry your daughter to Loras, but I still feel that he ought to be with Sansa instead,” I replied, shifting in my chair because I’d been sitting here for so long now. Tywin looked at me and then chuckled softly.

“You’re asking quite a lot of me, (Y/N). You should know better.”

“It is you who should know better. Sansa Stark is a sweet girl with few demands, I suppose I have your family to thank for that. You’ve treated her so poorly that all she desires is to be living in Highgarden; she has no expectations of Loras. And, because it is no secret that my brother is fond of men, when she realizes that it may cause disappointment, but it will not be ruinous for their marriage,” I explained to him, only pausing for a moment before continuing with my point.

“Plus, Margaery’s marriage to Joffrey will ensure our alliance for long enough that we will both get Sansa Stark’s claim once her children are of age.” I leaned back in my chair, feeling quite satisfied with how well this was going for me. I could see Tywin fighting for an excuse.

“You would be putting a Tyrell child in charge of Winterfell. You may share that claim with us, but the same cannot be guaranteed for the next generation or two. If I were to marry her to Tyrion, it is an absolute guarantee that a Lannister male will have Winterfell.

“An easy problem to fix, Tywin. Whatever children Loras and Sansa have will marry at least one of Tyrion’s children. That way the Tyrell-Lannister alliance will continue and give those children continued power over the North,” I bargained with him, feeling quite content with such a solution.

“But the rulers of the North would be Tyrell in name.”

“An unfortunate pill you must swallow. I have already explained why it makes more sense for Sansa to marry Loras than your son. Tyrion is better used securing an alliance with another house. There are plenty of eligible daughters, and marrying him to a woman from another, lower house, has no effect. He’s a son of Tywin Lannister, the most powerful man in Westeros. Plus, you’re not the only one who begrudges him for being a dwarf, people wouldn’t think twice if he married a woman a bit lower in status than he. Perhaps a Karstark or a Frey to ensure that they do not join Robb Stark.”

The Great Lion blinked at me slowly, clearly not appreciating the way I was over explaining it to him. Though, he had to admit that it was sound reasoning.

“And what of your brother? None of you shy away from the fact that he is not entirely fond of female company. How can you ensure children from his marriage to the Stark girl?” He asked, folding his hands in his lap with a sort of relaxation. Clearly he’d been waiting to bring this up, and I rolled my eyes.

“Loras is aware of what is expected of him, and is willing to put his desires aside. It was a topic discussed at length when we first learned of his inclinations, and he was quite understanding. There can also be a bedding ceremony, if you should truly require that much assurance,” I said with a sigh, knowing that it was a likely thing to happen. It was rather odd, I felt, that even a man like Tywin Lannister had not been able to deny his own bedding ceremony. Such was the reign of Aerys, though that was long over. There was little shame in admitting that the Hand of the King was most powerful now.

“A bedding ceremony is naturally expected. It will perhaps convince other nobles to ignore the rumors about him,” he replied, looking away as he did. The subject seemed to make him uncomfortable.

“They’re not rumors, Tywin. Let them think whatever they’d like, it doesn’t affect us. I will say, though, that I was quite disgusted by what you think of Loras,” I huffed out, shaking my head at him. His eyes settled on me again, and his eyebrows suddenly furrowed.

“It is unnatural.”

“In my eyes, it’s a preference. Just as some men like younger women and others like older women. We can’t control any of that. Plus, it does not affect his ability to fight, fence, or function as a regular man,” I reasoned, not really understanding why Tywin or anybody else should make such a big deal of it.

“And yet he’s engaging in intercourse that would not produce children. That is what I consider unnatural,” he shot back, brows raising at me as he said it. I gave him a look of utter disappointment, almost as if asking if he was serious.

“Oh Tywin, please. Not all intercourse is for that purpose, even between a man and a woman. You have three children, and by all accounts quite loved your wife. I’m certain you’re familiar with acts of pleasure that don’t produce children,” I laughed, shaking my head at how ridiculous the conversation was.

“My opinion upon the subject is final. You’re more than welcome to feel anger about it.”

“What I feel is more than anger, Tywin, it is disgust—both at you and at myself. How can I, in good conscience, be friends with a man who thinks so poorly of my dear brother? What if I had the same inclinations, Tywin? What would you think of me then?” I said accusingly, glaring at him as I posed the question. Did he truly expect me to look past such an opinion? I admittedly had felt some attraction towards women in the past, though the interest was not exclusive as my brother’s was. The Hand of the King paused as he contemplated.

“I don’t mean to cause offense. It is simply what I believe, just as many others do. If you were to feel the same attraction that your brother does, I would not hold it against you, just as I don’t with your brother, for it is not his only quality,” Tywin replied with a sigh, his shoulders finally relaxing. I shook my head at him, my stomach beginning to sink.

“And since when have you been like anyone else? I suppose I simply just don’t understand why you have such an opinion. I have already disproved what you believe makes it fundamentally unnatural. If your belief stems from religion then I’d like to remind you that the gods… well, you know very well how the gods can be,” I said, pausing myself at the end when I saw the look in his eyes. He knew better than anyone how cruel they were.

“Yes, yes I do…”

I paused, swallowing and looking around before speaking.

“I just- I don’t understand why you chose to dislike a group of people that has never personally offended you,” I said, realization suddenly coming to me when I saw the look on his face. “Unless…”

“I don’t wish to discuss this topic anymore, (Y/N). Our previous conversation was far more relevant.”

“My grandmother said you were quite aggravated by her questioning of your own desires… that you were very insistent upon not being like my brother. I cannot help but wonder, Tywin, if perhaps this hatred comes from your own self loathing. If perhaps you have felt such attraction in the past and did not like feeling that way,” I said, slowly leaning forward in my chair as the puzzle pieces came together. His firm denial of it suddenly made quite a lot of sense.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you know very well that my love for my wife was genuine and strong. To insinuate such a thing-“

“Tywin, you do realize that such feelings are not exclusive, don’t you? I am well aware of how much you loved Joanna, but it does not mean that you cannot also have attraction to men. Perhaps you prefer women, but that doesn’t exclude your same sex entirely. I am simply curious… as you did mention frequently leaving the castle with the late King Aerys… and leaving alone,” I pointed out, watching him grow increasingly uncomfortable. I’d figured it out, it seemed. His eyes were extremely avoidant, and he could not stop shifting in his seat and biting his cheeks. He was embarrassed.

“I do not wish to discuss this.”

I stared at him, and suddenly softened. He was ashamed, of course. And how could I blame him? To be the most powerful man in Westeros, the Hand of the King, and the Lord of Casterly Rock. His job had been to build his house up, to rid the sound of shameful laughter from his halls. So what then if people should discover that the son of the Laughing Lion had ‘unnatural’ inclinations?

I reached across the table, offering him my hand. He did not look at me and he did not take it.

“Listen to me, Tywin. You may not be ready to come to terms with it, and you may not be anywhere near comfortable with discussing such a subject, but know that I am here if you ever want to. Clearly, I don’t think anything of it, and I personally have felt attraction towards women just as well as men. I hope that eventually you will come to see it as I have, for I do not want you to hate yourself for it,” I said softly, looking at him the whole time even despite the fact that he would not look at me.

There was silence after I finished speaking, and only after a minute did he finally adjust his eyes. Tywin looked at my open palm, and with a bit of hesitation he took it. He did not say anything, but I saw his lip tremble as I squeezed his hand.

“I- I consent to the marriage between your brother and Sansa Stark, though begrudgingly. I will discuss it with my children. Tyrion needs to marry regardless, I can’t imagine he’ll like that, but he seemed to pity the Stark girl so at least he can be comforted by that. There’s no doubt in my mind Cersei will continue to try and convince me you’re all plotting, but I suspect all I’ll have to do is remind her that she’s getting out of a marriage thanks to you. Well, getting out of one for now,” he said, letting go of my grip and taking a deep breath.

I nodded, standing up and slowly going over to him. His eyes fixed themself on me as I made my way around the desk. When I reached him, I began to bend down. As a response, he stiffened and froze, entirely uncertain of what I intended to do.

I found myself pressing my lips to his forehead, and my hand came to his hair. His breath caught in his throat, and when I pulled away there was a slightly confused look on his face.

“Thank you, Tywin. I know it’s all politics and such, but I am grateful that you listened to me and understood my point of view. This way, we both succeed and don’t have to sacrifice as much happiness within our families,” I said, reaching for his hand again and giving it another small squeeze.

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before pressing it to his lips. My cheeks heated, though I had not a clue why. It was a common gesture, there was certainly nothing special about it.

But I could not deny the feeling of goosebumps forming along my arm, and the pleasant feeling of his mouth against my skin. A friend had never brought me such comfort before.

When he let it go, I gave him a gentle smile and turned to leave, but was surprised to hear him call out for me.

“(Y/N), wait.”

I faced him again and raised an eyebrow. He’d sat up straighter, and he sighed out as he spoke.

“Since you’re here, there’s something else I’d like to talk about. Especially in light of all that we have just discussed,” he said, his lips thinning as he finished. I could tell this would not be a fun conversation either, somehow.

“Oh?”

“I would like your advice. Another perspective, perhaps. I know what I would like to do, but you are always insistent on doing the opposite of that. And, since it does involve the war, it’s something you ought to hear about,” he explained, much to my curiosity. Had some opportunity presented itself?

I sat down again, and Tywin got up to pour both of us wine. I thanked him when he brought it back over to me. Gods, what a morning.

“So, tell me, what do you require my humble advice about?” I asked, grinning at him rather widely. He shook his head with feigned disappointment.

“Well, Robb Stark beheaded Rickard Karstark just as we had all expected. Since those forces have marched home, he is now trying to convince Edmure Tully to marry a daughter of Walder Frey. He is waving the olive branch, just as you suggested he would.”

I nodded, unsurprised by everything he’d just said. I still had not figured out where he was going with this.

“And if I remember correctly, you said Walder Frey would not make an alliance with him. It seems that’s what he is doing, is he not? Unless there’s something I’m unaware of,” I recounted, an uneasy feeling creeping into my stomach while I did.

“That is what I intend to ask your advice on. Walder Frey was obviously furious that Robb Stark broke his promise. Well, now he seeks revenge for it. He sent a letter asking for the support of House Lannister,” he explained, beginning to avoid my eyes. I started to feel even worse, as I somehow suspected that whatever plan he was about to mention did not involve anything pleasant for Robb Stark.

“Our support to do what, Tywin?” I questioned, holding the arms of my chair now. I hadn’t even been conscious of my usage of ‘our’.

“The plan, essentially, would be to have Robb Stark, his wife, and his mother murdered at that wedding. It would provide allies in House Bolton and House Frey.”

The room was utterly silent besides the sound of our breathing, and I began to feel somewhat queasy. I desired very deeply to end the war… but this… well, this was quite different from any battle. It would ensure victory, but at what cost?

“Roose Bolton would turn?” I asked, trying to process that information first.

“He already has. It was his bastard who burned down Winterfell, not the Ironborn as Robb Stark was led to believe,” Tywin informed me, to which I nodded. It was not entirely surprising; Roose Bolton seemed the type of man to play such a game.

With that out of the way, I further pondered the proposal Tywin had just made. Killing an entire family at a wedding. Winning the war. There were so many pros and so many cons.

“You disapprove of the idea, I take it,” Tywin said finally, seeing that the words had gotten stuck in my throat. I wet my lips with my tongue and then took a deep breath.

“Just- just give me a moment to think. I need to think,” I replied, fidgeting with the sleeve of my dress.

It was an incredibly tough scenario to contemplate. Breaking guest right that way would forever make the north wary of us, and the seven kingdoms were already far too disunited. Not to mention, I would be allowing the murder and possible rape of women by agreeing with him. Tywin could order his own men to not do such a thing, but if the Freys would be committing the act, then…

I did not want to become the person I had lectured Tywin for being, but what else could we do? We could certainly just wait for Robb Stark’s forces to grow tired and beaten down, yet further peace was needed. The distrust would boil over eventually.

Suddenly, an idea began to form in my head, and I nodded to myself as I thought it all out. Perhaps it would work, just maybe.

“Tywin, consider why the Young Wolf is waging war against us. Obviously he marched for Ned Stark at first, but now that his father’s dead the reasoning becomes more murky. Perhaps revenge is part of it, but more than anything he wants his sister back and he wants to go home. With Loras and Sansa to wed and Robb Stark’s forces so small, what if… well, what if we sent them to him? I know it sounds utterly insane, but why would he continue to wage war if his sister is home? If Sansa is happy in her marriage to my brother then it would be even more convincing,” I said, slowly stringing together my thought process and hoping to find a solution.

“With your family linked so closely to mine, who’s to say he wouldn’t just murder Loras?” Tywin asked, turning his head with a sort of caution.

“Because he would most assuredly be crushed then, and I’d personally see to such a thing. But, either way, Robb Stark is an honorable man; if we offer an olive branch, perhaps he’ll take it. And if not him, I cannot imagine his mother wanting to further risk their lives when Sansa is home safe,” I reasoned, taking a sip of wine and letting it soothe the headache that had begun to form.

“You would give him another opportunity to swear fealty? We already tried that, (Y/N), and he responded by calling up his bannermen,” Tywin demurred, raising a wary eyebrow at me. I sighed, shaking my head as I elaborated.

“But the circumstances are vastly different now. The only reason he took up arms was because Ned Stark was imprisoned, and at his age I’m sure he and plenty of others were itching for war. Now he’s been betrayed by Theon Greyjoy and lost an enormous amount of his forces. There is zero possibility of him winning against the largest force in Westeros, no matter how hard he tries. Whether we side with Walder Frey or merely meet him on the battlefield, his entire family will be slaughtered regardless. We ought to give him this out,” I said, knowing deep down that it was the right thing to do. After all, what boy wouldn’t fight for the lives of his father and sisters? He’d not made it in time for Ned, now he just wanted to make it in time for Sansa.

“You’d like to do this out of honor? Is that it?” He questioned, trying to figure out my intentions. I shook my head again. It was hard to express exactly what I meant in this scenario.

“Honor is something to be cautious about. If I can avoid the murder of an entire family, I will. To me that’s more about morality than honor. The way I see it, we could end this war by doing that, but if we do, the North will never trust us again. Ending the war isn’t enough, we need to work on reuniting the seven kingdoms. I believe that if we make peace with Robb Stark, and perhaps help him rebuild Winterfell, it would be a step towards doing that,” I explained, watching his face for any kind of reaction.

Tywin contemplated, and I could tell that he wanted to see it the way that I did, but he was still unsure. I couldn’t blame him, for quite a lot of things could go wrong in this scenario. It was entirely possible that Robb Stark was so furious about his father’s death that he would never even consider making peace with us, and that thought did make me uneasy. What if sending Loras and Sansa cost the Lannisters a bargaining piece and me a family member?

“Perhaps he will agree, but I’m hesitant. To him, the Tyrells are enemies; you’re siding with a family that killed his father. I cannot imagine he’s particularly eager to make peace with us,” Tywin said, drinking some of his own wine. As he raised his cup, I noticed that the morning sun was shining on his ring. It looked beautiful.

“If Sansa is married to Loras, she could help convince Robb Stark to agree. She’s close with my entire family, and she trusts us. I suppose my grandmother and sister are the first people who’ve shown her an ounce of kindness in quite some time. It would be useful. Her testimony might be enough to make Robb Stark trust our intentions,” I pointed out, now even more glad that Tywin had agreed to let them marry.

“He may trust the intentions of House Tyrell, but he certainly will not trust mine. He’s not going to want to bend the knee to Joffrey even if you give him that choice.”

“Right now, I don’t think he gets to refuse. As I said, if his sister is home and his numbers are small, he ought to be wise and return home. When we send Loras and Sansa, perhaps… perhaps allow me to go with them. Loras is kind, and he’s not stupid, but I don’t feel that he’s anywhere near as convincing as I am, and there’s no room for mistakes. I can convince Robb Stark, especially with Sansa’s help. We need unity,” I said, exhaling strongly and reaching for my cup. Gods, this entire war was miserable. At the very least, this wine was quite good.

Tywin raised both eyebrows at me, huffing out and standing up. This suggestion had made him quite upset, it seemed.

“If I think there’s a possibility that Robb Stark would harm, kill, or take Loras captive, why in the gods' names would I let you go? I will not risk your life, (Y/N), let alone your safety. Let me be very clear about that,” he said vehemently, gazing down at me with complete seriousness. I rose from my chair as well, taking a deep breath.

I went around the desk, reaching out to him. He took my hands in his when I offered them, looking down at the sight. I kept my eyes on his face, however.

“I will be safe, Tywin, I promise. I wouldn’t do it, or even have suggested it, if I thought it might be dangerous for me,” I told him, squeezing both of his palms. He lifted his head, holding my gaze with the utmost concern and care. He shook his head.

“Well I think it’s dangerous. You’re not going, (Y/N). I won’t- I won’t lose you. I can’t,” he whispered, looking away. I let go of his hand and reached for his face instead, turning it back toward me.

“I’ll take Ser Elias with me, and Loras will have guards for him and Sansa. All will be well, Tywin. You won’t lose me, hm? I’ll help to restore a fragile peace to the seven kingdoms, minus Stannis, and then I will return home to you.” I brushed my thumb against Tywin’s cheek, and he leaned into my palm. His stubble scratched against me, and for some reason it made me want to cry.

“I hate feeling like I cannot protect you,” he mumbled, closing his eyes so he would not have to look at me.

“I can protect myself, Tywin. You know that. If not with my sword then certainly with my tongue.”

Both of the Great Lion’s hands suddenly came to my face, and there was a deep sadness in his eyes as he cupped my cheeks.

“I will tell Walder Frey to call off the wedding. I’ll inform him I have other plans in place,” he said, sighing out. I gave him a gentle smile, knowing that he did not want to feel anxious for my well being.

“Thank you, Tywin. You won’t regret it, I promise you that.”

He looked at me thoughtfully and nodded, releasing one of his hands from my face and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as he spoke. “I know I told you that I wished for you to fight alongside me should we ever face conflict again, but I don’t know how I’d do it. I’d fear for your safety the whole time.”

“Just as I would fear for yours, Tywin,” I whispered in reply, placing my own hand on top of his and keeping it against my cheek.

We stared at each other, and—in an odd passion—I felt just as I had at the inn: like I wanted to kiss him.

My cheeks flushed, and my breath quickened. Letting go of his hand, I looked away. I would never kiss Tywin, we were merely friends. It was simply a tender moment and his face was close to mine. That was all there was to it.

—————

“Ah, family. I’ve been looking for all of you. I suppose I should’ve checked here first.”

Margaery, Loras, and my grandmother were all in the garden attempting to distract themselves. My grandmother and sister were snacking on whatever the servants had brought, but Loras could not seem to touch it.

He’d been trying quite hard to come to terms with marrying Cersei; it had been difficult for all of us.

“(Y/N), come sit with us. Have you had breakfast yet? Ser Elias said you were up early today,” Margaery said, looking up from her plate and motioning to the chair beside my grandmother.

“No, not yet. I had something to attend to this morning, it’s why I’ve been looking for all of you. I have news,” I explained, sitting down at the table and instantly reaching over for some fruit, cheese, and bread. It was cold now, but I felt so victorious that it was no real loss.

“Oh? Go on then, spit it out,” my grandmother said, leaning back in her chair and taking a sip of wine. I might’ve told her it was early, but I supposed at her age it made little difference. Plus, I had been drinking too.

“I spoke with Tyw- Lord Tywin this morning. We had a rather lengthy conversation, and though he was quite stubborn about it, I managed to convince him against Loras’ betrothal to Cersei,” I informed them, watching Loras instantly look up with disbelief.

“Truly? You’re not joking?” He questioned, wondering if it was perhaps too good to be true.

“Yes, truly.”

He was smiling brighter than the sun now, and so was Margaery as she leaned toward Loras and placed a hand on his shoulder. My grandmother, however, was giving me a rather suspicious look.

“And how is it that you managed to convince him?” she inquired, folding her hands together in a somewhat menacing way. I raised an eyebrow. Why was she so wary?

“Well, it’s quite simple, really. A large focus of the conversation was that our alliance is quite stable, and I helped him come to the conclusion that—because of that stability—there’s no reason to marry Loras and Cersei. He’s better off marrying her to someone else,” I answered, shrugging because I found it to be rather straightforward.

“I see,” my grandmother said curtly, reaching for her cup as a natural way to end her sentence. I merely ignored it, knowing that she was prone to all sorts of moods and opinions. If she wanted me to know what she was thinking, I’d find out.

“But, it’s not only that... I have also convinced the Lord Hand to let your betrothal to Sansa Stark continue,” I revealed with a smile, watching my brother’s face light up once again.

“How on earth did he agree to that?” Loras asked, laughing a bit as he did. He appeared to be utterly giddy over knowing that things were all going to plan again. Margaery had turned to my grandmother, giving her an odd look.

“Well, he settled after I told him that, of whatever children you and Sansa have, one of them will marry a child of Tyrion Lannister. It’s all quite far in the future, but that is the current arrangement,” I said, to which he nodded with understanding. Hypotheticals were easy to accept, it seemed. I prayed that the deal would work out properly, because I did want to keep my word to Tywin.

“I see. Well, I thank you nonetheless, (Y/N). Gods’ know I’d much rather marry Sansa than Cersei,” Loras muttered, making my grandmother huff out a laugh. None of us preferred Cersei to Sansa Stark in any capacity.

“Of course. If you have to marry a woman, I’d rather it be a sweet girl like Sansa. Plus, she could certainly use a break from King’s Landing. And, speaking of which, I’m afraid there’s one other reason that Lord Tywin feels alright with this match…” I trailed off, watching all of my family members raise their eyebrows in some capacity.

“It seems… it seems that an opportunity to make peace with Robb Stark may have appeared, and your wedding to Sansa may be exactly what we need in order to do so. Once- Once the wedding is over, the idea would be for the two of you, along with me, to confront the Young Wolf. With some diplomatic convincing, I hope to end the war and help the Starks retake Winterfell,” I explained to them, anxiously awaiting their responses.

There was silence for a moment, and Margaery was still staring at our grandmother. Loras seemed to be processing the idea in his own head, but it was not his permission that I needed, especially because I knew he really wouldn’t mind it.

“And you’re certain it would be safe to confront Robb Stark that way? Just the three of you?” my grandmother questioned, finally looking over at me. I instantly nodded at her.

“It wouldn’t just be the three of us, Ser Elias and a few trusted guards would come as well, but the idea is to seem open. To bring a large group to his camp would cause conflict, whereas a small group would only cause questioning. I believe that Sansa has enough affection for Loras—and for the rest of our family—to help our cause. On top of Robb’s honor, Sansa’s wishes would likely protect us from any harm.” I popped a grape into my mouth, crushing it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue. I was partly hoping that if I relied on those two things enough, it would become reality.

In all honesty, I had no clue if I would be safe. I had promised Tywin—and was now telling my grandmother—that I would, but men were unpredictable. Some less than others, yes, but this was a risk. I could see on Loras’ face that he knew it too.

“And what if they don’t kill you but instead take you captive? They’d be taking two bargaining pieces and then we would have none,” my grandmother pointed out, scoffing at me and shaking her head.

“Do you think I don’t know that already? Grandmother, I’m well aware of the fact that this certainly could go wrong in quite a lot of ways, but it is a risk that I feel comfortable taking. Robb Stark, at this point, is really only fighting this war for his sisters. Why keep fighting when he has them back? My point is, I don��t think he’s got any reason to want to take Loras and I captive. But, if you’re still anxious about it, I’m willing to take Sansa by myself.”

Loras shot up from his chair, shaking his head at me.

“I’m not letting you go alone, (Y/N). Either I go with you or the whole thing’s called off,” he said, making my grandmother sigh out. She promptly spoke up about her opinion on the subject.

“Loras, you are the heir to Highgarden, I’m not going to have you go with your sister and-”

“So just because I’m the heir it means that somehow my safety is more important than (Y/N)’s? No, that’s ridiculous, Grandmother. I’m going with her.”

“I’m not saying that your safety is more important, I’m saying that you’re more at risk because the Stark’s will see your position as something valuable. I’d rather neither of you go at all, but if you must then I’d like to minimize the risk of it,” my grandmother explained, making Loras scoff and look away from her. I rose from my seat, going over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s not entirely wrong, Loras. It might… it might make more sense for me to go alone with Sansa,” I whispered, seeing on his face that he was still upset about it.

“No. How are the Starks supposed to trust us, or even trust my marriage to Sansa, if I’m not there with you? I have to be there, (Y/N),” Loras reasoned, turning to my grandmother with a sort of pleading look. It was really up to her more than anyone else.

There was silence for a moment as she contemplated it, but eventually she sighed and relented with a nod of her head. Loras let out the breath he’d been holding and then turned his gaze back to me.

“Thank you, (Y/N). Thank you for convincing Lord Tywin to alter the plans, it means quite a lot to me. I’m certain it’ll mean plenty to Sansa as well. I’ll go tell her right now,” my brother said, pulling me into his arms and giving me a genuine hug. I smiled, wrapping my arms around him and squeezing gently.

“Of course. Tell Sansa about the wedding plans, and mention the idea of making peace with Robb. Tell her that, ideally, the two of you would go with Robb to rebuild Winterfell, and then eventually return to Highgarden,” I told him, pulling away and tucking a few curls behind his ear. He nodded, kissing my cheek before turning and leaving the garden.

I watched him go, and when I eventually turned around, I found both Margaery and my grandmother staring directly at me. There was a somewhat quizzical look on their faces, and it made me anxious. Why in the seven hells were they thinking about?

“What?” I questioned warily, sitting back down in my chair.

“Grandmother and I are just… well, just a bit uncertain of how exactly you managed to change Lord Tywin’s mind so easily,” Margaery noted, blinking several times as she did. Both her and my grandmother almost looked… well, suspicious.

“Well, as I said, Lord Tywin and I had quite the conversation-”

“Yes, I heard. However, he and I had quite the conversation as well, and so I am attempting to figure out how—even after backing me into a corner—he listened to you,” my grandmother said accusingly. I watched Margaery attempt to cover her smile with a hand, much to my confusion.

“He respects me, grandmother. I believe I’ve earned it after spending so much time around him. Plus, I gave my solutions quite a lot of thought. Every question he asked I had a good answer for,” I reasoned, almost a little annoyed by the fact that they were in disbelief. Did they think I lacked the ability to be convincing?

The two women before me turned to look at each other, and both of them started to smile. I was utterly bewildered as to what was happening.

“I hope you will forgive me saying this, my dear, but I’m beginning to think Lord Tywin feels a lot more than just respect for you,” my grandmother continued, to which Margaery began to laugh. I sighed, finally understanding what they were insinuating and giggling about.

“Oh please, Grandmother. Lord Tywin and I are merely friends, that is all. And even that may be a stretch, he still makes me angry quite frequently. Your insinuations are not as realistic as you believe them to be,” I said, though partially lying. I reached for the cup Loras had left behind and took a sip of his wine. I had not even realized it was his cup for a moment, and I had been expecting water, but somehow found that the wine was reassuring all the same. Gods, I was having quite the morning.

“Yes, and that is why the two of you are always going out and disappearing overnight. Don’t think I’m unaware, (Y/N). Not only that, but for nearly a week now you’ve visited the Tower of the Hand at least once a day,” my grandmother pointed out, making me shake my head vehemently. Had she gone utterly insane?

“Please, think logically. I’ve hated Lord Tywin for 11 years now, what makes you think that all of a sudden there are romantic feelings between the two of us? If not enemies, the most that we’ll ever be is friends, I promise you that,” I said firmly, trying to get that idea through her head.

“I think sometimes it is easier to hate someone than to admit that you’re attracted to them. Though, I would like to note that I said nothing of romance, I am merely suggesting that the two of you are sleeping together. You are the one bringing romance into it,” she teased, giving me that grin which insinuated she’d won in this discussion. Heat came to my cheeks, and I sputtered out with shock.

“G-Grandmother! I- I can assure you that Lord Tywin and I are most certainly not doing anything even remotely close to that. I have no attraction to him, none whatsoever!”

“If you’re bedding Lord Tywin, (Y/N), there’s no need to shy away from it. You know neither your sister nor I would care. Well, we might judge your taste a little bit, but that’s all,” she said, laughing. Margaery joined her, and my entire face turned unbelievably hot. To me the thought was utterly unfathomable; I couldn’t understand why they were laughing about it.

“I assure you, I am not bedding Ty- Lord Tywin, and I don’t intend to. Ever,” I told them, trying to defend myself. They only laughed more.

“Of course, sister. That’s why your dresses become more revealing each day. I find myself wondering if you’re stealing from my closet. Not to mention, you seem to have a new affinity for patterns with red roses.” Margaery joined in on the assault, and I sighed out of utter exhaustion. This family would be the death of me.

“That’s complete nonsense. I’ll say it now, and I’m not going to repeat myself: the relationship I have with Lord Tywin is nothing but an alliance and friendship. He is older than Father, and only 6 years younger than you, Grandmother. To insinuate that I am bedding him is insane,” I reasoned, raising an eyebrow at the Queen of Thorns. She smiled and reached for my hand.

“I am aware, my dear, we discussed it yesterday. It’s nothing unusual, plenty of men marry and sleep with women much younger than themselves,” she said, leaning forward as she usually would while making a point.

“Well not Lord Tywin.”

“(Y/N), from what I’ve heard, the Lord Hand smiles quite easily around you. Tywin Lannister never smiles. The last person he was known to smile around was his late wife,” Margaery mentioned, giggling as she did.

“This was not the reaction I had hoped for when I revealed that I’d convinced Lord Tywin to reconsider Loras’ marriage,” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead with slight annoyance. I refused to even think about what they were saying, for it was not possible in any capacity.

“(Y/N), I’m not asking you to admit it, perhaps just consider it for yourself. You may not be bedding Lord Tywin, or engaged in any sort of romantic relationship with him, but you do have such feelings for him, don’t you?” my grandmother asked, smiling wickedly.

I scoffed at her then, confident that she was wrong. Later that night, however, I’d have to consider her words. I’d noticed small things, like butterflies in my stomach when Tywin and I touched, or heat in my face when he complimented me. I smiled at the set of armor sitting in my room every day, and at the Valyrian steel blades in my chest. And I had to admit, I was beginning to grow fond of the color red, for it reminded me of him.

But to me, that was all normal. Why shouldn’t a friend make me happy and make me feel cared for? Tywin and I simply got along well; we fit together. Yes, I had wanted to kiss him before, but that had been during very tender moments. It was not as if I was sitting around daydreaming about kissing him.

So surely that was not love, right? It couldn’t be. I supposed I’d never exactly considered myself to be in love with anyone before, so I had nothing to compare it to, but wouldn’t it be the sort of thing that was abundantly clear to me?

Well, it mattered very little. I could not feel love for Tywin Lannister, let alone romantic affection. To be with a man like that would most assuredly be the most painful thing I could possibly do to myself. He was a horrible person who had done horrible things, and because of that I had hated him for nearly half of my life.

Plus, he was only a few years younger than my grandmother, and he’d probably never even considered me romantically because of that. Right?

No. To love Tywin Lannister romantically was out of the question. I could crave the sight of his eyes and his smile, and I could crave the sound of his voice and his laugh, but I could not love him. It was not a thought that I intended to entertain.

I was afraid of what doing so might unleash in me.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

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#tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #charles dance #tywin lannister fanfic #cersei lannister #a lion in the garden

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jo-harrington · 2 years

Text

Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

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#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fluff #store manager verse

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