#greg's voice sounds more right to me

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[repulsiveliquidation]

Fore!

Leah Williamson x Reader [Tooth-rotting, diabetes-causing sweet af fluff]

Leah meets the hottest golfer she’s ever seen.

word count : 2.3k, there will be more parts coming soon!

Based off of true events, I do play college-level golf and I thought it would be fun to incorporate that into a story!

“Come on Leah, our tee time is at ten fifty!” yelled Jacob from the living room. They had planned on playing some golf today, but Leah couldn’t pick an outfit out and was becoming frustrated. “Give me a minute you arse! We won’t be late!”

Finally deciding on something to wear, they headed to the Abbey Hill Golf Club (a/n this is a real course in Milton Keynes!) where they were just in time for their tee time. “What was it you were saying about not being late, sis?” Jacob quipped, earning a hard smack on the upside of his head for his mocking tone. “Shut it before I shove this club up somewhere you don’t want.” “Alright, alright, I’ll bring the cart around.” He answered with a laugh, walking over to the golf carts searching for the one with the number 6 on it.

“Just you then, Y/N/N? Right, you’re gonna have to pair up with those two then. The course is pretty full today, that’ll speed up play.”

“Right, thanks so much Greg!”

“You’re welcome, kid. I’ll give you a tenner if you beat your own course record!”

“I’ll hold you to that, Gregory!”

“Hello, I’m Y/N. Greg paired us up today, I hope that’s okay!”

Someone taps Leah’s shoulder and she swears time stopped. Standing before her is the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had the most beautiful smile and was dressed in the cutest golf outfit. She looked professional, like she knew what she was doing, not like herself.

“Um, are you alright?”

“What? Oh fuck, yes. Um, what did you say?”

You giggle at her flustered answer. “Fuck,” thought Leah, “I think that’s the cutest sound in the world.”

“I’m Y/N. Greg wanted us to play together since the tee times are full, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh no, not at all! My brother and I just came out to have a little fun but we’re not that good so I hope we don’t slow you down. You look like you play golf a lot. That’s a really cute shirt you have on, perfectly paired with those trousers. I really like your shoes too, mine are really beat up.” “I love you.”

You giggled again, amused by her rambling. “Don’t worry about it! I just came out to have a little fun but I did bet Greg ten pounds if I could beat the course record today so you’ll need to be witnesses.”

“Course record? Just how good are you?”

“I’ve played my fair share of golf. Between secondary school and college, I’d say I’m alright.”

If Leah had a ring, she’d be on one knee proposing to this girl right now. Jacob finally pulls up with the cart and starts to lock the bags to the back. Leah, in a split-second decision to abandon her precious baby brother, tells him he can have his own cart and that she’ll share with you.

“If that alright with you, of course.”

“Not at all; what’s your name again?”

“Shit, where are my manners? I’m Leah, that’s my brother Jacob. Jacob this is Y/N.”

“Hello Y/N, Greg set us up eh?”

“Yeah, I won’t be too much trouble!”

“You’re alright, just beat my sister and let her take you out, we’ll have a fantastic day.”

“Jacob, I swear–”

“See you two on the first tee!”

A deep blush creeps up Leah’s neck as she rummages in her bag for something she isn’t looking for. You smile fondly at the woman, finding her obvious nervousness extremely attractive; her brother’s request more of a hope than a dream now.

You hop into the driver’s seat, looking back at her still rummaging but now with added grumbling. “You ready, Leah?” you ask with an amused voice, her head popping up as she stood straight and smiled, walking to the passenger side and sat in the cart. You headed to the first tee, the course looking beautiful this time of year.

Jacob stood on the first tee with a cheeky smirk on his face, driver in hand. You park right behind him and get out, grabbing your glove and driver before walking up to him. Leah copies you, following quickly behind you.

“Leah normally plays the reds but I knew you’d come up here to the men’s tees.”

“The women’s tees are too short for me, I like a little challenge anyway.”

Leah, under the guise of stretching, listening intently to your conversation with her brother. It made her stomach do flips and fill with butterflies as you spoke so elegantly about golf. She knew it was the same way she did about football but there was something so hot about the way you spoke that made her heart want to jump out of her chest.

“Would you like to start us off, Jacob?”

“Yes! Then my sister can show off her swing to impress you before you undoubtedly bomb in perfectly down the fairway to show her how it’s done.”

Leah swears she nearly committed first degree murder right then and there. You let out a comical laugh, clutching your stomach as you watch Leah come over and smack her brother hard. He does eventually play his first shot, which isn’t bad, and it’s now Leah’s turn.

“Good luck!” you tell her, smiling softly. She blushes, setting up her shot way too much to the left out of nervousness.

“Leah, too much left darling. Come over a little.” You say nonchalantly, giving her a thumbs up when she corrects herself. Her brain has short-circuited, the pet name you used making her last two braincells abandon her. She manages a shot, ball going only about 50 meters before coming to a stop. You clap nonetheless, telling her it was a good shot. She blushes even harder when you give her a high five, walking over to the tee box to play your shot. Just as Jacob predicted, you hit a drive straight down the middle, flying way past both their balls.

“Wow, that was impressive.” “I love you.”

“Perfect, that was my intention. Come on, let’s get to yours.” You tell her, taking her hand and walking back to the cart. You get in and make your way to her ball. Her face held an expression of pure shock, staring at you with her perfect blue eyes. You could only smile shyly, your boldness was a surprise to everyone in the cart.

“You’ve got 215 meters, Leah.” You tell her as you approach her ball, pulling out your rangefinder and shooting the distance for her. You sat back into the cart and let her hit her ball. You knew she wasn’t going to get there with one shot but you always tried to make anyone you played with enjoy the sport regardless of their talent level so they didn't feel intimidated. Having been surrounded by coaches who made you resent golf while playing in college, you made it your mission to have people enjoy the sport; for golf to be a hobby and not a chore.

“Thanks, what should I play?” she asks, wanting your expert opinion she convinced herself; truthfully she just wanted to hear you talk about golf. “Well, how far does your 5 wood go?” “120 meters if I don’t waffle it.” “Ha! Wonderful, use that.” “I love you.”

She does, in fact, waffle it. But she laughs it off and tries again. This time she does hit it good and it lands beside the green. “Yes Leah, that was great!” you give her another high five and see Jacob already by your ball.

“100 perfect meters. You hit that drive a long way down here.”

“Thanks Jacob, this is one of my longest ones on this hole I think.”

“Which club do you want?” Leah asks, wanting to return the favor. “Pitching wedge please.” you tell her, grabbing it from her and playing your shot. It flies past the hole a little, leaving you with 15 feet for birdie. You smile and wave a little as they impressively clap. Jacob catches the lovesick glint in his sisters eyes as she watches you like you're the only person in the world.

“You’re a goner, aren’t ya?”

“Hook, line and sinker Jacob.” “I love you.”

The three of you spend the next 4 hours playing the most fun round you’ve had in a while. Leah ends up playing a 102, Jacob was better with a 95 and you won ten pounds from Greg after posting a course record of 63.

She was a little sad that the round was over, packing her bag much slower than was necessary. She didn’t see that you were doing the same. Jacob said goodbye and left, winking at her and teasing her. She shoved him and smiled happily, nervous about not wanting the day to end. You had just about plucked up the courage to ask her out when you stood and there she was, almost as surprised as you were.

“Uh, fuck. I was j-just wondering if you would w-want a drink or something.”

“Depends, would that mean that it’s a date?”

“Only if you wanted it to be.”

“I would love nothing more. Well, you eventually but, we’ll see.”

//

“You’re WHO?!”

“You saying you didn’t recognize me?”

“I hate that I have a feeling you’re more amused than offended that I don’t know THE Leah Williamson.”

“It’s honestly refreshing.”

You laugh as arrive at your car. You wordlessly grab both golf bags and pack them into your boot. You close it and smile at her standing there, hands shoved into her pockets as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

“How about a little lunch? I know a pretty good café I think you’d like.” She nervously suggests, somewhat scared that you would say no.

“I’d love that, Leah. Quit being so nervous, I don’t bite.”

//

“Could I do the cranberry and chicken wrap please? Maybe an iced latte to go with that too, please.”

“Make that two. I’ll pay.”

“Leah, I couldn’t let you do that.”

“It’s a date remember? I asked, I pay.”

“What a gentlewoman, you are. Makes a girl weak in the knees, you know.”

“I’ll catch you doll, don’t worry.”

Leah doesn’t think she’s ever been able to talk to anyone the same way she could with you. You were the perfect listener; attentive and engaged. You also spoke so eloquently and had the best jokes she’s ever heard. It’s not till the café owner comes over at 7PM to let you both know that they were closing did you realize the time.

You both walk hand in hand down the streets of late-night Milton Keynes. Leah insists on getting ice cream, beating you again at handing over money to pay. You both settle on a bench at a nearby park and enjoy the cold dessert. Your hands don’t leave each other’s, her thumb softly brushing over your knuckles.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Y/N. I don’t think I would be able to sleep tonight if I didn’t tell you.” She blurts out suddenly and it sends a dark blush up your cheeks. “I love you.”

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I lied, of course I knew who you were. How could anyone not? I was fangirling so hard but I had to keep my cool so I didn’t scare you. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the best lie anyone has ever told me.”

You continued to eat your ice cream, sitting closer to her as your laced fingers sat in your lap. Ice cream cones now finished you both just enjoyed the cool Milton Keynes night.

“Are you from here?” Leah asks as she mindlessly plays with your fingers. “Yeah, but we moved around a lot as kids because of my dad’s job. I moved back here for secondary school but went to the US for college.”

“A great friend of mine studied in the US while playing sports too.”

“Alessia? I’ve met her, she signed my jersey one time.”

“Signed–which game did you come to?!”

“I was at the Euro’s last year. Loved watching the final, I had a sore throat for a week from all the shouting. I had just come back from graduating so I thought I’d enjoy a little soccer.”

“It’s football, love.”

You laugh and lean your head on her shoulder as she takes the opportunity to slip her arm around your shoulder. You don’t protest, leaning into her. She smiles wide, grabbing your hand to hold with her other. It was past 11PM, both of you walking to your car begrudgingly at the reality of a perfect date coming to a close. You get in and suddenly have a burst of confidence. You lean in and to your surprise, she does too. Your lips meet and it's like fireworks. Her lips mold to yours perfectly, tongues swiping and tangling like a practiced tango. You pull away first, hand cupping her beautiful face and stroking her cheekbone.

“I don’t want it to end.”

“Then don’t let it.”

“Stay the night?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[blahblahblees]

Hey there!!!

This is my first time requesting on Tumblr and I am not sure if you're accepting requests or not so if you aren't feel free to ignore it.

Can you please write a short drabble on Rodrick and the reader being neighbours and the reader liking him but not telling him because he likes Heather. And then everything happening at rodrick's party.

And all the drama can go according to your imagination!

I am sorry for my bad English.

Have a good day/night/evening/afternoon.

Thank you.

ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── make you mine ミ rodrick heffley

✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── reader has a crush on rodrick but his eyes seemed to be locked on heather hills, but when greg takes notice of rodrick’s lyrics, his perspective begins to change.

wc: 1,333

movie!rodrick heffley x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), the use of y/n (your name)

tw: kissing (?)

a/n: your english is wonderful :)

HEATHER HILLS. The way her name rolled off of the tongue made her seethed in ways she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t because she was jealous of her, she knew that Heather Hills was gorgeous, but she (herself) was also just as beautiful. She liked her hair, she liked her body, she liked her style, and she liked Rodrick Heffley.

But his eyes seemed to be locked on Heather Hills. He always talked about her long blonde hair and how her outfits just perfectly fit her. It was Heather Hills this and Heather Hills that… but she let him go on about her.

It was an awful thing to do to herself, but here she was, once again, sitting with him in his dining room as he explained his plan to her.

His band, Löded Diper, had somehow convinced Heather to perform at her birthday party. She didn't know how they convinced her to let them play or even why for that matter, but it was good enough for Rodrick.

Her eyes watched as Rodrick scribbled down songs for them to potentially play at her party along with some newer lyrics that would "tell her how much he loved her", which she didn't quite understand. Rodrick hadn't really known Heather for long, quite literally meeting her at school when he was picking up Greg.

"... So, what do you think?"

She looked up from Rodrick's notebook and towards him. She was so in her own mind that she hadn't realized that he'd been speaking to her.

"I'm sorry." She muttered. "What did you say?"

"I asked if the hook should be changed so it fits for the party..." He answered. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah... yeah." She answered, sitting upright in her seat. "Sorry." She apologized once more and quickly gathered her belongings.

"What's wrong?" Rodrick asked, his brows furrowed by her sudden movements. "Where are you going?"

"I should head home." She said. "My mom is expecting me soon and I have to help her with dinner tonight."

Rodrick nodded, slowly standing up and following the girl to the front door. "I'll see you at Heather's party tomorrow, right?"

She closed her eyes for a moment before turning, her hand resting on the doorknob as she looked at him. She really didn't want to go to Heather's party and had planned on it, in fact, she was pretty sure it was an invite-only party and she hadn't gotten an invitation from the girl.

But she was pretty sure that Rodrick was going to find a way for her to get inside, invite or not.

So, she took in a small breath and nodded. "See you there."

With that, she quickly shut the door behind her and headed towards her car, and sped out of the Heffley driveway.

"I can't believe some of the stuff you write in here."

Rodrick quickly turned at the sound of the voice. It was Greg. He was standing at the dining room table with his eyes locked on Rodrick's songbook.

"Is this what being in love is like for you?" Greg asked. "If so, she just went out the door without a kiss goodbye."

Rodrick quickly marched over towards him and grabbed the book before he quickly hit Greg with it. "What are you talking about, dork?"

Greg muttered something under his breath, rubbing his arm in the process. "That stuff... that stuff you call music. That's about Y/N, isn't it?"

"What?" Rodrick scoffed. "No. This is for Heather's birthday tomorrow."

"You're going to sing a love song to another girl at Heather's birthday party?" Greg chuckled. "Are you crazy?"

"You're going to be crazy dead if you don't shut up." Rodrick barked and held his book in the air once more, prepared to hit Greg with it, but the younger boy quickly ran off before anything else could happen.

Rodrick heavily sighed and sat back down at the table. He flipped his book open and tapped back and forth against the table as he went over the lyrics once more, just to make sure everything was perfect for...

But the more he looked at his lyrics, the more and more that he imagined her… he only saw her.

With a heavier sigh, he shut his songbook and slumped down into his seat, rubbing his hands over his face before stopping halfway and sitting up quickly.

He knew what he had to do.

HEATHER’S PARTY was in full swing.

People had been partying for quite some time before she arrived. She obviously wasn’t going to upstage Heather, she didn’t think that was possible with how outlandish Heather’s party had been, but still, she chose to dress up for the party and stay until Rodrick’s band called it for the night, which may take hours at the rate this party was going.

But as soon as Rodrick set eyes on her, he sat his guitar down and told his band to just go with the flow until he got back.

He took in a deep breath, and gently shook his hands to bring himself some comfort. He titled his head side to side before finally reaching her side by the punch bowl.

“You made it.” Rodrick smiled.

She turned at the sound of his voice and nodded, taking a small sip from her drink. “Yeah, of course.” She smiled. “Couldn’t miss the best band play their biggest gig.”

Rodrick smiled at her words, whether or not she meant what she said didn’t matter. She said them to make him feel good, to bring him comfort over the fact that he was about to tell Heather Hills that he liked her.

Or so she thought.

“Did I miss your love bomb to Heather?” She asked.

And she really hoped she had.

“Uh, not quite, no.”

She furrowed her brows at his response. “Everything okay?”

Rodrick's heart was racing as he looked at her. He knew he needed to tell her how he felt; he just didn't know how. But as he looked into her eyes, he found himself lost for words. All he wanted to do was kiss her.

Without warning, he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it was filled with all the emotion he had been trying to hide from her.

When they pulled apart, he could see the surprise in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly.

She blinked. “You’re- You’re sorry? What- What-“ She stammered, her face growing red as she flustered her words. “What about Heather?”

“I don’t think- It was never Heather was into.” He said. “I mean, yeah, she’s hot, but she doesn’t make me feel the way I do when I’m with you. All those songs I was writing were never about her.”

As Rodrick spoke, she could feel her heart racing. Did he really just say what she thought he said? Could it be possible that he liked her as much as she liked him?

"Really?" she asked, her voice soft.

He nodded. "Really.”

Without hesitation, she leaned in and captured his lips with her own. It was a deep, passionate kiss, filled with all the emotions they had been holding back for so long. Her body melted into his as their lips moved in perfect harmony, each kiss taking them deeper and deeper into the moment.

When they finally pulled away, they were left breathless and dizzy with desire. She looked up at him with a shy smile, her heart beating like a drum in her chest.

"I've loved you for so long," she said softly.

"I know," he replied, cupping her face in his hands. "I've loved you too, but I didn't have the courage to tell you until now."

She leaned into him, her head resting against his chest. "I'm so glad you did," she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

This would be the only time that Rodrick would be thankful of Greg.

— lucy has something to say !!

i think i’m gonna start using you and yours again lol

but regardless, my request are opened! check out my rules and such before requesting and check out my masterlist to see who i write for!

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Mon I think Aaron got a pair of old man (dilf) style reading glasses and at first he’s embarrassed to wear them with the team bc he knows Morgan or Dave will tell him he’s getting old BUT when he wears them at work he notices you get unable to focus in the team meeting and you’re all dazed basically until he takes them off and tucks them away but bonus point that this interaction makes him feel very desired and wanted 😵‍💫 and maybe he’ll show them off to you in private later 🤫

The Glasses

Warnings: Pining?? Sort of?? Maybe idk. Nothing smutty but there are some implications. This is like borderline nsfw? Maybe??

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!bau!reader

A/n: Omg yes. We love dilf glasses on Hotch. He already looks so pretty and desirable but something about glasses on him is different and I need it. I wouldn't say this fic is necessarily nsfw. But I might be willing to write a part two where it becomes smutty. I'll leave this as sfw unless I come to the conclusion that it should be marked otherwise.

Tags: @criminalskies

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle

You're completely distracted and it's all his fault. Him and his downright slutty glasses. The first time you saw him wearing them it was a very brief sighting as he had taken them off after just a few seconds of you being in the room. And ever since then you craved to see him wearing those glasses again. They often made an appearance in some of the very inappropriate fantasies you have about your boss. They'd even worked their way into your dreams at night.

The case the team is currently working has been dragging on for a couple of days now and you've gotten basically nowhere with it. The fact that you're sitting across from Hotch as he reads a file with his glasses on is not helping you concentrate on the case in the slightest. And it's stirring something up deep inside you the more you stare at him. Aaron wearing those glasses and looking all serious as he reads is making you very horny if you're being totally honest.

"Y/l/n? Y/l/n. Y/n." You hear Hotch speak your name in a stern tone and you feel his hand grasp yours and he squeezes it. You snap out of your trance. "Hmm? Yeah, what is it, Hotch?" He furrows his brows as he looks at you and pulls his hand away now that he has your attention. "Are you okay? You've been distracted. Every time we sit here looking through files, you seem to be distracted. Is something going on? Are you alright?" Concern is clear in his voice.

What you want to say is "No, I'm not alright. I'm horny and it's your fault because you're wearing dilf glasses that make me want you more than ever. You're very distracting and if you don't put them away right now I'll launch myself over this table and kiss you before dragging you to my hotel room." But you figure that's not really the best thing to say to your boss right now. So you settle for giving him a smile and a nod before looking back down at the file in front of you as you try to force yourself not to look at the beautiful man sitting across from you.

You stare down at the papers but even though you're not looking at him anymore, you still aren't actually focusing on the words on the page because you're so concentrated on not looking back up at Hotch to steal another glance at those glasses. Though eventually you can't help it and do it anyway. You can't really stop yourself as you look back to him.

The glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scowles down at his papers. You sigh out loudly by accident. No one else is really paying attention to you aside from Emily and Derek sending each other smirks when they notice just why you're so out of it. But the loud sigh makes Aaron look at you again. His glasses are down far enough that he's looking over the top of them to make eye contact with you.

"Y/n, are you sure you're fine?" He asks, sounding even more concerned now.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."

He stays silent as he observes you for a moment before nodding and going back to his reading.

This continues as the team starts throwing ideas around. Aaron keeps an eye on you throughout it and he knows your excuse of being tired, while partially true, is definitely not the main reason for your behaviour and he just can't pinpoint exactly what it is. But he realises it must have something to do with him as you can't keep your eyes off of him, and only him. You're not having this problem with any of the other team members. Not Derek, not JJ, not anyone but him.

He goes back to your previous statement about being tired once everyone goes back to sifting through the numerous number of old reports and files from the precinct as you all try to come up with a group of suspects.

Hotch speaks up when he feels your eyes on him again. "Would you like me to get you a coffee? I know what they have here isn't very good, but it might wake you up a bit." He glances up at you as he waits for your response. "Yeah, sure. That's probably just what I need."

He nods and stands, in the process he removes his glasses and sets them down on the table. He notices how your eyes follow the glasses and that's when pieces start coming together in his mind. He figures he'll test it out when he comes back.

He leaves and comes back a few minutes later with your cup of coffee and sets it down in front of you. You thank him and he nods then sitting back down. This time, leaving his glasses off. In fact, he actually puts them away so they're out of sight entirely.

This seems to change things. You're more focused on the work. You still give him the occasional glance but you're not full on staring at him with drool practically spilling out of your mouth like you had been earlier.

He leaves the glasses put away and he tries his best to read without them like he used to. He'd known he had needed glasses long ago but he refused to wear them because he didn't want his age to show. He knew he would get some teasing remarks about it from Dave and Morgan. But eventually, it got to the point where he could hardly do the reading part of his job. So he reluctantly had his eyes checked and soon he was wearing glasses that made it far easier to read.

He didn't like the glasses in the slightest. They made him feel old and he didn't like that. But the way you looked at him when he was wearing them, that did something to him. It made him want to wear them.

Unable to work without them, he gets them back out and puts them on. It's hard not to notice the way you immediately look back up from your work. He pretends not to see it.

Over the next half hour you can't help but watch him like he's the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You're fixated on him. And now he is sure it's the glasses that are doing it. He has to bite back a smile. Knowing you apparently find him so attractive with them on makes him feel good inside. He doesn't understand why you would like it, but it's extremely clear that it's doing something for you. He's tempted to show up at your hotel room later to explore this further and see just how much you like them.

[that-one-banger-of-a-rhcp-song]

A Rodrick x reader where they're friends with benefits and aren't aware of each others feelings towards the other util reader gets asked out by someone from their school :]

i started this one earlier and then the draft got deleted (this is why you dont take grilled cheese brakes kids) Thank you so much for the request, i have never written fwb before so i hope i meet your expectations :) (p.s. im a sucker for hand/knuckle kisses and it shows) lets just say greg and rowley weren't there for the party.

"Dammit Rodrick," you chuckled slightly, sitting on a desk.

"What?" The raven haired boy started, "Don't like doing this anymore?" His hot breath tickled against your neck.

"It's not that," you muttered, "I just, don't feel like making out in an empty classroom five minutes before lunch ends."

"Oh, 'cause you are so above that," he retorted, going back to his assault on your neck and jawline.

"I'm turning over a new leaf!" You leaned back slightly, humming.

"Proud of yourself?" his hand relocated to your waist, the other supporting his weight.

"I would say I'm more proud of you,"

"Oh?"

"You haven't gotten a detention in two days!" at that, the boy laughed, and removed his head from the crook of your neck.

'God I love you!' he wanted to say, but you seemed content with your current status, and he got to make out with you whenever he wanted... so he was fine! Totally.

"Has that Micha kid been bothering you?" The so called 'Micha kid' had been trying to hit on you for months, and you were to nice to tell him you secretly hated him, but you were working on it (thanks to Rodrick)

"Kind of? He tries to talk to me a lot, but he's less persistent."

"Good" he smiled, patting your waist before kissing you again.

You pulled away after a moment, "We should probably get our stuff," you commented, pulling him out of his blissful state.

"uh, yeah!" god he was so awkward sometimes. He held out his hand for you to take, (which you did) and you slid off the desk.

"You're such a gentleman!" you mocked in a brittish accent

"Oh, I know, love," he carried on.

-----------

'party at my house -rodrick' The text had been sent four minutes ago on the dot. Your parents were out of town, so you could go without being caught. So you fucking did. You put on a white button-down, black skinny jeans that were torn to shreds, and You put your earbuds in and started walking the block to the Heffley household. Your mind shifted to your previous interaction. How concerned Rodrick was being, he did care about you. and some times it felt like he loved you. you felt as if you could only dream.

---

You knocked on the door, the music was so loud already.

"Y/NNNN!" Rodrick dragged your name out, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, "You do know this is casual, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. Get in here!" he pulled you in the house, there were lights, MCR's 'na na na" was blasting at full volume, and there were high-schoolers making out in random corners, someone had started a fistfight, and it seemed like it was more Rodrick's element than yours, but that was ok. And then you saw him.

Micha.

The boy who looked at you like a Piece of meat.

you grabbed Rodrick's sleeve, "Micha's here," You said desperately. He noted your concern, and looked around for the boy, "Hey," he said, grasping your arms, "It's gonna be fine! if he starts bothering you, just come find me and we can make out or some shit!" He looked you in the eyes and smiled, trying his hardest to reasure you.

"Thanks Rodrick," you said hugging him.

"Of course!"

-------

Rodrick had decided to be social, so you just wandered around the house, looking at the people you knew, and those you didn't. When you heard that terribly familiar voice.

"Hey y/n!"

Well fuck. you turned around, and sent a glare that could kill toward the boy.

"How's the party?" Micha said.

The sound of his voice made you want to yell. "Good." you said, not looking at him.

"I haven't talked to you in a while,"

"I know." you kept your answers short and half assed. Hoping he would get the memo.

He didn't.

Lucky for you, Rodrick had pardoned himself from his buddies chit chat, to make sure you were alright.

An arm looped around your shoulders, "Hi," the boy said "Uh, Micheal, was it?"

"Micha."

"Oh, sorry meesha,"

"That isn't even close to my name."

"Cool" you were never really religious, but you took the time to thank god for Rodrick. "Now, Mickey, can you not tell that you're making y/n uncomfortable?"

"I figured they would tell me if-"

"Micha, I don't like you." you said, voice laced with anger, "I never fucking have."

The boy just looked at you sadly and nodded before walking away.

"Rodrick, thank-" you were cut off by a rather agressive and passionate kiss.

"Y/n I love you. It's okay if you don't love me back but seeing you that uncomfortable made me want to tell you."

you could only stand there shocked. "I- Rodrick I" you stuttered, "I love you too. I always have and I really want to thank you for keeping me close!"

Just hearing those words made his heart melt and his confidence boost dramatically.

"I know this is my party, but" He tried, "Wanna blow this place?"

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)

The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...

gif is not mine (found it on google)

"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"

„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 

Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 

It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 

„Oh, House and me?“

„(Y/N) and me?“ 

„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 

„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 

Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 

„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 

„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 

„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 

House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 

„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.

„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 

„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 

„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 

„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.

„(Y/N)?“  

Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 

„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 

„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.

Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 

„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 

„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 

„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 

„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 

„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 

Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 

„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 

Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.

The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 

„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 

„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 

„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 

„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 

"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.

„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.

„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.

„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 

„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 

The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 

„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.

„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 

„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 

„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 

„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.

„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 

„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 

„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 

„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  

„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.

„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 

„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 

Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 

But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 

„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.

„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.

„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.

„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 

„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.

„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 

„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.

„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.

„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“

Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.

„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.

„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 

„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 

„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 

„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.

„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.

„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.

„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 

„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 

„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 

You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 

„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.

„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“

You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 

After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 

„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.

 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?

„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 

„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 

„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 

„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 

After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.

„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.

„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  

„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 

„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 

„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.

„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.

„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.

„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 

„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.

„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.

„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 

„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 

„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.

„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 

„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.

„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 

„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.

„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.

„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.

„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 

„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 

„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“

You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 

„Okay, Greg.“ 

[itsmarsss]

The World-Famous Annual Heffley Puppet Show [Rodrick Heffley x Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(~from the vault~)

Susan invites you to watch one of the Heffley's weird annual traditions, and you're expecting anything but this.

Word Count: 1,479

[...]

Dating Rodrick Heffley was… an experience. Not in a bad way at all, it was only that it could be… weird, for lack of a better word to describe it, at times. Like right now, for instance, when you were sitting in his living room while his parents told an extremely over-complicated story through… puppets.

You weren’t exactly sure how you'd gotten yourself into this situation. Okay, well, that was a lie, actually.

Susan had been incredibly persistent about you coming to the ‘World-Famous Annual Heffley Puppet Show’, as she made sure to announce extravagantly, adamant about you being present to witness the oh-so-great performance, and, despite Rodrick´s ridiculous attempts at making faces at you from behind her that quietly told you to not, in any occasion, agree to it, you just couldn’t get yourself to say no.

“Why would you say yes? You could have just said your grandma just died or something!” Rodrick questioned you, exhasperated.

“Dude! Don’t say that about my grandma!”

“Okay sorry. But you could’ve said absolutely anything! Anything!"

“I tried! She kept finding solutions! She even said she’d move the date up.”

“She said that?”

“Yeah. Why?"

“Shit. She’s never moved the date before. She really wants you to go.”

“Why is that?"

“No idea. I think she just really likes you."

“Why do you sound so shocked about that?”

“She’s never really liked any of the girls I went out with.”

“Okay, James Dean. You’ve gone out with like one girl before me when you were like sixteen.”

“Hey I got laid! Occasionally.”

“Ew."

“It’s true!”

“Yeah right.”

“Fine. I got laid twice. Happy?"

You shrugged, grinning at him as you poked fun at him some more.

"Well now that you said yes to her I guess we’re gonna have to go.”

“It can’t be that bad!”

It could. It definitely, 100%, without a doubt, could. The ‘performance’ had been going on for about half an hour now, and it didn’t look like it was heading towards an end any time soon. You were all sitting in chairs, which were lined up in front of the couch, your seat between Rodrick's and Greg's, with Rowley by Greg’s left and Manny by Rodrick’s right.

Okay, yeah, maybe this time you should have listened to Rodrick.

You really, really tried, but you could not, as much as you desperately wanted to, figure out the plot of the story Mr. and Mrs. Heffley were trying to tell. It had something to do with dragons and fried chicken and at some point you could swear there was a clown. How any of that tied up together was beyond you, and, as you could see, Rodrick and Greg too.

The only ones who seemed to be having any fun at all were Manny, who was standing up and clapping like crazy throughout the entire thing, probably props to the very questionable voices his parents were making for the ridiculous amount of different characters that seemed to progressively look worse in appearance as they showed up, and Rowley, who also didn’t seem to understand any of it, but looked entertained nonetheless, occasionally even shooting Greg a few comments, to which Greg just smiled and mumbled something incoherent under his breath in response.

You leaned over to Rodrick, who was wide-eyed at this point, looking borderline terrified at the scene that unfolded in front of him. “You said it was bad, not that it was gonna give me nightmares!” You whispered.

He looked genuinely embarrassed, and for Rodrick Heffley to be embarrassed of something, oh that was something. “I tried to warn you!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Greg whispered too, making himself a part of the conversation.

“Shut up dickhead,” Rodrick let out under his breath, to which Greg replied by sticking his tongue out at him, earning a middle finger in response. Oh, brothely love.

“Do you guys really have to go through this every year?”

They both nodded. “It’s like it gets more terrifying every year,” Greg commented, and you took a quick glance back at the couch, where Mr. and Mrs. Heflley were crouched behind. Apparently a pig who was wearing a bow tie was hunting down a rabbit for sweets now.

“Do you guys think they’d notice if we left?” Greg asked and you pondered on it. Then you had an idea.

You turned to face your boyfriend. “Okay look. You gotta be fast alright? And you can't let your mom be upset at me."

“What?” Rodrick questioned you, finally managing to look away from the trance the puppet show had kept his eyes in.

“When I say I gotta go you say you’re coming with me.”

He nodded, though he hadn't really gotten the gist of where you were going with that.

“Wait can I come?”

“No,” Rodrick promptly replied.

“Come on give him a break," you nudged his arm, to which he rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“Fine. But only ‘cause she asked.”

Greg smiled, looking at you. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Alright we gotta get out fast. Just grab Rowley with ya.”

Greg nodded in understandment.

“Hey Mrs. Heffley?” You spoke up.

The voices stopped. You were already grateful just for that moment of silence. Susan’s head appeared from behind the sofa. “Yes dear? Something wrong?”

“I'm really sorry, but um I really need to head home, I think.”

“Oh but we’re only halfway through-”

“I’ll take her home!” Rodrick exclaimed at lightspeed, yanking you by your wrist and sprinting towards the front door.

“We’ll come with!” Greg yelled too, doing the same with Rowley, leaving only Manny as an audience for the remainder of the story.

“But-”

“Bye! Thnak you for inviting me!” You yelled over, already out by the front yard.

“Uh- bye sweetie!”

You got to Rodrick’s van, which was parked on the street, all panting and out of breath from running so fast.

“Okay, get in demon spawn.” Rodrick unlocked the back door and waiting for the boys to enter.

“Hey!” You exclaimed in feighened offense.

“Not you. You’re a… sexy little demon...ess,” he smirked, knowing he’d get a laugh out of you.

You could hear Greg and Rowley say ‘ew’ from the back as you got in the car.

“I agrre with them, ew. I think I prefer demon spawn.”

Rodrick got in himself, turning the engine on. “Okay any ideas?”

“Can we go to Chipotle?” Rowley asked.

“No we should go to Taco Bell!” Greg yelled, and they immediately started arguing about it, talking over each other so loud you couldn’t understand a single word they were saying.

“Hey! Dickheads! Shut up!” Rodrick yelled, and, surprisingly, they did. “Y/n chooses.”

“What? Why?” Greg asked, offended.

“She has girlfriend privileges!”

You laughed at Greg’s angry expression. “Well I think we should go to Subway.”

“We’re not going to Subway." Rodrick deadpanned.

“What? You said I had girlfriend privileges!”

“Not if you choose fucking Subway!”

“Fine. Domino’s?”

“That's a decent option!” He smiled, and started driving.

You got yourselves a large pizza, Greg and Rowley quick to leave the table and go chase after each other around the place.

“You have grease on your chin,” you informed Rodrick when you looked at him. He wiped it off, his mouth full of food. He tried to say something, but quit as soon as he started, the sound muffled.

“Dude swallow the pizza first, that’s gross!”

He did so before trying again. “I said thank you.”

“It was looking all greasy and gross!"

"Oh shut up," he smiled at your teasing. "I meant for saying yes to my mom. She was actually like super excited about it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, confused. “Wait I thought you wanted me to say no.”

“Well yeah. But she clearly liked that you did go or whatever. She likes you.”

“That good?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess. Maybe he won’t be so up our asses if she likes you.”

“Well you’re very welcome. Cause that was… something.”

He laughed. “You thought that was bad? You should see the Christmas one.”

There was no way. “They do a Christmas puppet show too?”

“Oh no it’s much worse. They actually act in it.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. And you’re officially invited by me.”

“Oh no don’t bring me into this again-”

“Too late! I-” he took a sip of his soda- “will be telling my mom you had a wonderful time today, and you were so, so bummed you had to go home early!”

“You’re a jerk!”

“What's that I hear? You’d be thrilled to attend the Yearly Heffley Christmas Play?"

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You smiled. You supposed you signed up for weirdness the moment you said yes to dating Rodrick Heflley of all people.

“I do, actually!”

He smiled at you. No, you don't.

[. . .]

A/N: heyy rewrote some thingies but its mostly the same as when i first wrote it. so here ya go with some more rodrick content! :)

[bvckleyydiaz]

leap of faith - aaron hotchner

title: leap of faith

summary: sometimes, all you need to find true happiness is to take a leap of faith.

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader

word count: 1668

warning(s): mention of haley and underage drinking

a/n: so the idea of this story came from the amazingly talented @greg-montgomery's scenario here. all credit for this idea goes to them. if you want some really good hotch fics, please go check them out! i thought it was so cute and just had to write it. hope you guys enjoy!

This is not how I pictured my Tuesday morning at the office going, you think to yourself as Penelope crosses out yet another name from her lists of your potential suitors. With the help of JJ and Emily, she had managed to compile thirty-two names, and more than half of them have already been scrapped. Before today, you had refused every time they had brought up the idea of setting you up on a blind date. That was before you realized that the feelings you held for your boss, Aaron, were far from friendly. You knew that nothing would come of what you were feeling, so you came to Penelope’s office and told her that you would agree to one date.

“What about this one?” Penelope asks as she swipes to the next picture. This guy was not bad-looking, by any means. He looked young, had hazel that glittered with mischief, and there was a boy-next-door charm to him. Something about him seemed so familiar, though. You couldn’t quite place it. “His name is Thomas, he’s twenty-seven, and he works in the Cyber Response department.”

“He looks like a younger version of Hotch,” Emily remarks from her place to your right.

Penelope tilts her head and seems to consider this. “Huh. Now that you point it out, I can’t unsee it.” She looks at you. “What do you think, Y/N?”

Truthfully, you could see the tiniest bit of a resemblance between the two of them, but you know that this man would never compare to Aaron—Hotch. But you know that nothing will happen between you and Hotch. So, you see this as the perfect opportunity to start moving on. “He’s cute,” you tell Penelope. “I’ll give him a chance.”

Letting out a giddy squeal, she scribbles down his number and hands it to you. You text him as soon you leave Penelope’s office, introducing yourself, telling him that your friend from the office had told you about him, and asking him if he wanted to go out sometime.

Sure. Thomas writes back after a few minutes, Does Friday at eight sound good to you? There is a new Mediterranean place a few blocks away from my office I want to take you to.

It’s a date! I love Mediterranean food. :)

--

Friday comes faster than you expect it to. You’d made sure to bring a change of clothes and a bag of your favorite makeup to save you the half-hour drive back to your apartment to get ready. The dress you’re wearing is a little red number, courtesy of Emily, with a slit up your both your thighs and tiny straps holding it to your body. The first time you tried it on, you didn’t think your body would fill the dress out as well as hers did, but it fit like a glove. You felt confident in the dress; you felt sexy. It was the motivation you needed to not back out of the date.

You’re touching up your lipstick when a voice brings out of your thoughts. “I thought you left hours ago.”

It’s Aaron. “Hotch.”

He tilts his head, and the cute little frown he wears when he’s confused appears. “What are you still doing here? You should be at home getting some rest.”

“I have a date tonight, and I didn’t want to drive the thirty minutes home to get ready when the restaurant is only a couple of blocks away,” you explain, and he nods. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how I let the girls talk me into going. I mean, I trust them with my life, but…” You laugh quietly to yourself.

“They just want to see you have fun and not focus on work all the time. We all deserve time to ourselves every now and again.” A small smile of his own comes over his face, and it makes your heart stutter in your chest. “At least that’s what Penelope told me before she tried to set me up on a date of my own.”

Your quiet laugh turns into incessant giggles. “Oh, I would’ve loved to see how that went.”

He shakes his head fondly. “Penelope meant well, but the woman and I didn’t click. Plus, I think it was too soon after my divorce from Haley. I wasn’t ready to let myself date again.”

You nod. “I understand that.” You stand from your chair and smooth out your dress with your palms, looking up at your boss. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Aaron tells you, but there’s something in his expression as he says it. You don’t know what to call it.

“Thank you.”

“I should let you get to your date. Have a good night, Y/N.” He turns and makes his way back to his office.

You are on your way out of the bullpen when—and you don’t know what compels you to do it, either—you look back at Hotch. The blinds to office are pulled open, but you notice a shift in his posture. His shoulders are drawn tight like a cord that’s about to snap, the expression void of the playfulness that was there not even two minutes ago.

You dig your phone out of your purse and text your date. Hey, Thomas! It’s Y/N. I’m sorry that this is so last minute, but something came up at the office. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. You walk up the stairs to Hotch’s office and knock on the door. “Y/N?” He asks when he opens the door. “Did you forget something?”

You shake your head. “No. My date cancelled on me.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s fine, it was only a date. I don’t think it would’ve worked out anyway.” You look past his shoulder into his office. “What are you still doing here?”

He lifts a file folder into your line of sight. “Paperwork for our most recent case. I wanted to start on it before we’re called on a new one.”

“Do I mind if I join you?”

He purses his lips in confusion. “Of course I don’t mind, but all I’d be doing is paperwork. You’d have more fun watching paint dry.”

“Well, since my night is now free, all I’d be doing is taking a shower and having a hot date with my couch and a bottle of wine.” You smile at your boss. “Besides, I wouldn’t be watching. I’d be helping.”

Hotch shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Hotch, I mean this with every ounce of respect and admiration I have for you, which is a lot, but please just shut up and let me help you.” He lets out a laugh in surprise. “I know that I don’t have to help, but I want to. Please let me.”

He steps to the side to let you come into his office, and you take a seat on his couch. “So, what can I do, boss?”

He smiles at his place from behind his desk. “Will you read me my notes from the file next to you? I’d like to put them in the report.”

You nod. “Sure thing.” You pick up the file to your left and flip it open, Hotch’s notes scribbled onto post-it notes stuck to the paper. “You ready?”

--

“No way,” you exclaim through your fit laughter. “No way that happened!”

The table in front of you is littered with takeout boxes. You and Aaron sit next to each other on the small couch, your knees grazing. Aaron’s half-empty container of beef Lo Mein sits in his lap while you hold your nearly full container of veggie fried rice.

“Well, it did,” Aaron’s smile stretches from ear to ear. “I’m sure there’s still evidence of it lurking somewhere on the internet.”

“I just… I have a hard time believing that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the FBI Behavioral Analysis, jumped off the roof of a two-story house into a pool.” You spoon more of your rice into your mouth.  “It’s so out of character for you.”

“In my defense, I was sixteen and thought I was invincible. I may also have been drunk.”

“Huh. Aaron the troublemaker? Never would have pegged you that way.”

He tries to hide his smile under a bite of his Lo Mein. “There are a lot of things about me that will surprise you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

Aaron tilts his head. “You know, now that I think about it, I never found out if that punch had been spiked or not.”

This causes you to dissolve into giggles.

--

“So, Y/N,” Emily asks as she walks through the bullpen the next morning with Penelope and JJ in tow, “how did it go last night?”

Penelope bumps her shoulder into yours. “Yeah. I want to know everything!”

Morgan looks up at the three of you from his desk, and Spencer does the same from his own. “What happened last night?”

“I was supposed to go on a date last, but it got cancelled last minute,” you tell them and then look between Penelope and Emily. “So, there’s nothing to tell.”

“That sucks,” JJ laments. You shrug and tell her that you weren’t really worried about it. There’s a lull in the conversation until you spot Aaron walking past the bullpen to his office.

You smile. “Morning, Aaron!”

He turns to you and returns your smile. “Morning, Y/N.”

Penelope, Emily, JJ, and Derek all turn to you once Aaron is out of earshot. “Aaron?” JJ asks, a tone of pleasant surprise coloring her voice.

You shrug nonchalantly, a small smile coming to your lips. “I’m solving a mystery,” you tell them before making your way to your desk.

The four of them share looks of bewilderment before Spencer speaks up. “You guys didn’t know? I could see it from a mile away.”

[velaryqns]

Can you write a house md imagine where the reader is a nurse and she always butts in on what the diagnosis might be and he always brushes it off but she's been right a handful of times?

Always right

pairing: greg house x fem!reader

fandoms: house md

warnings: none?

disclaimer: do not repost my works onto any other platforms, and if you see my writing somewhere on an account that I have not confirmed to have: please let me know.

I sighed from behind the nurse’s station, filling out a patient form while waiting for Cuddy to leave the patient’s room. A loud voice grabbed my attention, and I looked up from my writing to see House limping into the clinic.

“Greg,” I greeted and rose to my feet, ready to approach him to silence his loud remarks, “you’re disrupting my patients.”

His blue eyes found my own at the sound of me warning him. He gave a fake apology and walked to the station, leaning on it, “Can I get a refill on my prescription?”

“Have you considered walking with your cane on the right side?”

“No,” House shook his head.

I grinned, slammed a folder shut and leaned in, “Then no.”

“I’ll just go to Cuddy,”

“She’s busy with a patient,” I countered, walking away from the edge of the counter. I grabbed a prescription pad and threw it at him, “Bother Wilson.”

“You’re not supposed to be indulging me,”

“No, but you won’t leave me alone,” I shook my head, not bothering to look at House. I knew he’d be watching me with wide eyes and a raised brow, hand resting on the pad as he considered if I was fibbing or not. I finally glanced up, “Greg.”

“Y/n,”

I scowled and he smiled, then lifted the pad in the air, “Thank you nurse for doing your job, neglecting a cripple…how rude.”

He looked back at me with a sad look on his face, leaning against the door and walking backward while the people on the waiting room looked between the both of us. I clenched my jaw, a hand clamping into a fist while I approached the counter, “I only neglect addicts.”

That silenced him, shock crossing his face before he left the room. A throat was cleared beside me and I jumped to see Cuddy standing in the station with a raised brow.

“Thank you for not giving in, but the public scene is no better,” she held a folder out me and I muttered an apology while taking it from her, “now I’d better go save, Wilson.”

I sat back down at my desk in the nurses station, checking in patients and letting the doctors and other nurses give their check ups. It was going to be a long day.

By lunch, I’d weaseled my way to House and Wilson’s table. His ‘Ducklings’, Chase, Allison, and Foremen, were seated at the next table. They all looked fed up with him for the day. Chase watched in disbelief as I sat down right next to Wilson, completely ignoring House’s warning stare.

“So,” I set my lunch down and began situating myself. I could feel the eyes of the team on me the entire time, “What’s the case today?”

“Dystopia, tremors, chorea, blepharospasm, ataxia,” House spat the words out, stealing a fry from Wilson with every one. I watched with a raised brow, “anemia…”

“Have you tested the pancreas?” I asked nonchalantly, taking a bite of my lunch. The team gaped at me and House rolled his eyes.

“No, but I’m assuming that based on how much you’re correct you expect us to?” House sent me a fake smile and I returned one.

“Why yes, of course,” I tilted my head and took another bite, “Have you done any Iron tests?”

He scoffed, “Of course we have, nothing.”

I hummed dubiously and he sighed, glancing toward the ducklings, “go run more iron tests and check the pancreas.”

“How do you even-“ Foreman started but then held a hand in the air, “never mind, I’m better off not knowing.”

I chuckled while he walked away with the rest of the team, then turned to House, “How much are you gonna pay up if I’m right?”

“Nothing, because you’re wrong,”

Even Wilson have a doubtful noise before scurrying away from the table to return to his department. House glanced at me, then stood and left. I finished my lunch and returned to the clinic, sitting at the station and resuming to what I’d been before lunch.

A few hours passed when House limped in, lips pressed in a thin line as he dropped a clipboard on the desk. I started, eyes shooting wide as I rose to my feet.

“Give us a diagnosis, Nurse y/l/n,”

“Very funny,” I lifted the clipboard and read it over, “Iron accumulation in the pancreas.”

I hummed and held the clipboard down, staring off into the distance before I glanced back at House. He looked at me expectantly, “Aceruloplasminemia.”

“Do you know how rare-“

“Yes I know how rare, but I also know it comes down to genetics and you need to hear me out on this,” I held the clipboard toward him, “again.”

He took the clipboard and left in silence, but I didn’t miss the slight glare he sent to me at the same time. It’s not often that he comes to me for help, but every time I’ve been right. So he won’t fight me on this one.

A few more hours passed and I was cleaning up the clinic for the night, most other nurses had left and Cuddy was back in her office. The door opened and I looked up from what I was sorting at the desk to see House once more.

“Greg,”

“Y/n,”

“Just tell me I’m right so we can get this over with,” I sighed and tossed a folder aside. I rounded the desk and leaned against it.

House stood in front of me, both hands on his cane while watching me. I folded my arms and raised a brow expectantly. House eventually have a reluctant sigh, and took another step toward me, “You were right.”

“What a shocker,” I responded with a smirk, taking a long pause between each word and inching closer toward him, “you’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you,” he shook his head.

“No, but you will for everything else,” I whispered and grabbed him by the back of his neck. House leaned in and was quick to press his lips against mine.

He pulled away and looked down at me, “Maybe.”

“What are we wanting for supper?” I asked him and turned back to the station.

“I think you need to stop giving your input in my cases,” he raised a brow while I began putting files away once more.

I hummed, “I don’t like the sounds of that.”

“I’m trying to challenge my team,”

“And it’s fun to aggravate you,”

“You’re right about that,” he huffed.

“I’m always right, Greg,” I didn’t bother looking up at him, because the scoff he gave while rounding the station to sit in my desk chair was an answer enough.

[disaster-writer]

Teenage Dirtbag (Part 1/3)

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Summary: You and Rodrick Heffley grew up right next door to each other. You’re best friends and nothing could ever change that… at least that’s what you’ve always thought.

Rating: R 18+

Word count: 5k

A/N: I do not have a taglist

Suburbia.

Middle class, overwhelmingly white, everybody knows your name, suburbia.

You hated it, you were making a run for it once you graduated and you were going to make it big time.

That is, if you could just survive your annoying little brother until then—

“Give it back you little turd—“

”Mom said no more name calling!” Your eleven year old brother giggled as he ran opposite of you around the dining room table. He held your toaster waffle in his grimy little hands. 

”I don’t give a shit— you’re gonna make me late!” You ran left and he ran right, swiftly evading you.

”What? Afraid your boyfriend is gonna ditch you and make you walk to school!” He practically cackled.

”Rodricks not my— ughh, just give me my breakfast you shit!” You leapt across the table, making your brother squeal like a little girl.

”(Y/N),” your mother suddenly hissed, entering the kitchen, “What did I say about name calling?”

”He stole my breakfast,” you threw back, laying across the table.

”David give your sister her waffle back. And both of you, go over to the Heffley’s already, Susan’s doing me a favor by driving you to school David, don’t keep her waiting.” Your mother said pointedly, her heels clipping against the linoleum floor as she moved about the kitchen to get her coffee brewed before heading off to work.

She continued talking but as your eyes landed back on your brother, her voice suspiciously morphed into the teachers voice from the peanuts.

Your brothers eyes landed on you as well, your waffle held in the air. Both your eyes darting back and forth to the breakfast food. That was until he daringly put the waffle in his mouth and took a bite.

That’s fucking it—

“You know what mom?” You suddenly jumped off the table, sounding chipper, “Rodrick said that he could give David a ride to school instead.”

”What?” your brother asked apprehensively, suddenly shaking in his shoes at your words.

”Huh? Really?” She asked surprised, turning to look at you, “Rodrick Heffley said he’d drive your brother to school?” She clearly wasn’t buying it. After years and years of seeing that boy hang around you, she knew he wasn’t handing out favors.

”Yeah, really.” You grinned, your gaze suddenly snapping to your brother and pinning him to the spot. A threat and a promise hanging in the air.

”Well… tell him I said thank you then. And honey, don’t you think you went a little heavy on the eyeliner today— what did you do to your jeans!” She then hissed in horror at the gaping holes in the knees of your pants.

”Leave me alone, it’s cool,” you scoffed and walked around the table, grabbing your brothers arm tight and dragging him out of the kitchen. 

“You’re joking— Rodrick doesn’t even have backseats—“ your brother panicked behind you.

”I know. Maybe think twice about whose waffle you decide to eat.” The two of you grabbed your backpacks before you opened and slammed the front door behind you.

“This is a cruel and unusual punishment— you can go to jail for this—“

”Can it idiot,” you snapped, dragging your brother to the house right next door. The house that belonged to the Heffleys.

You knocked on their front door before letting yourself in. It was practically your second home at this point and Susan told you not to even bother waiting for someone to answer the door. 

You pushed him forward before letting yourself in.

“Hi Susan, Hi Frank,” you called out, not bothering to greet them properly before bounding up the stairs and letting your brother wander around on his own in search of Greg. You heard muffled responses from the kitchen.

Once on the second floor you headed straight for the attic staircase, taking two at a time before finding the lump under the bedsheets you were looking for.

Now it was time for your favorite game.

You made your way over to Rodricks bed, grabbing two drumsticks on the way. You weren’t even trying to be quiet, floorboards creaking loudly under your feet.

Soon you stood above him, a devious grin painted on your face at how peaceful he looked in his sleep.

Time to ruin that.

You took both drumsticks and carefully stuck each of them up his nose, giggling quietly as you managed to get them to stay stuck in his nose. You then quickly took out your phone and started taking as many pictures of him as you could before he woke up.

Rodrick sniffled, trying to breathe past the objects obstructing his airway. You giggled harder watching as his nostrils twitched and flared and soon his whole face was screwed up in discomfort.

You burst out loudly in a fit of laughter, doubling over as he shot out of bed in a panic, the drumsticks falling out of his nose with gravity.

His groggy mind took a second to grasp the situation, but once it did he was quickly reaching out for you.

”You little—“

You yelped as his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you down against the bed with him. You struggled in his grasp, still laughing as he pinned you against his chest. 

“Let. Go.” You wheezed through your laughter.

”Delete those photos!”

You continued to struggle in his grasp before he suddenly let go, causing you to fall off the bed with a grunt.

You blinked, staring up at the ceiling until Rodricks head popped over the side of his bed. His eyes narrowing.

”Stealing my look?”

You scoffed, “You don’t own eyeliner Heffley— by the way, you have to drive my brother to school today.”

”What? Why?” He complained, eyes following you as you stood up and plopped yourself right on his bed.

”I need to teach the little shit a lesson.”

”And you had to drag me into it,” he flopped backwards onto his bed.

“Coming from the guy that drags me into nearly every stupid idea he has.”

”You come willingly,” he said, pointing at you with a drumstick.

”Sure I do. Now get dressed so we can go,” you jumped to your feet, sprinting back down the stairs, whatever he said next falling on deaf ears.

You made your way back down stairs and into the kitchen where the rest of the Heffley’s, plus your brother, were gathered.

You sat yourself down and kicked your feet up on the breakfast table, reaching over for a pop tart that sat out on the table.

”Mornin’” you greeted through a mouthful of food.

”Morning…” Frank trailed off, staring at your feet propped up right next to him. The newspaper in his hand forgotten.

”Honey, you know what I’ve said about feet on the table.”

You sighed, pulling your feet off and sitting cross legged on the chair instead. “Sorry.”

”That’s alright and uh… you look nice?”

”Thanks,” you grinned.

”Yeah, the makeup is a bold choice,” Greg muttered sarcastically, making your brother laugh.

You narrowed your eyes and shut the both of them up. Greg had always gotten on your nerves the same way your little brother did.

”Rodrick said he’d drive Greg and David to school so you don’t have to.”

”He is?” Susan questioned. However, her shock quickly turned into excitement, “And he suggested this himself?”

”Sure did,” you grinned, taking another bite of your pop tart.

”Why would he do that?” Greg asked.

”Maybe your brother’s turning a new coin, don’t stop him from growing as a person.”

Suddenly, all six of you heard a shriek, your heads whipping towards the staircase as Rodrick stomped down the stairs.

”Mom! What did you do to my pants!?” He exclaimed, running into the kitchen, lifting a leg and pointing to the matter at hand.

Your gaze followed where he directed and you had to stifle a laugh. 

For some reason, the rips in his jeans were patched with baby pink fabric.

”Oh, I fixed them for you,” Susan grinned, satisfied with herself. “They were torn to shreds so I patched them up.”

Rodrick stared at his mother with wide eyes, completely at a loss for how to respond, “I ripped them on purpose. And why did you use pink!” You bit down on your lip to keep from laughing, as his voice was becoming squeaky with frustration.

Susan rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “Honestly Rodrick, I do you a favor and you only complain about it. Why would you rip your jeans in the first place? So you can look sloppy at school?”

”He wants to trick people into thinking he’s a famous rockstar,” you threw in. “I told him it was a stupid idea and that he was wasting the hard earned money you spend on his clothes by tearing them up but he just wouldn’t listen to reason,” you shrugged.

”Wha— It was your idea!” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking abou— ahh,” you yelped as Rodrick charged forward and grabbed your leg, lifting it above the table and practically knocking you off the chair. Manny suddenly clapping with all the commotion.

”See! You did it too,” he pointed to the giant rips at the knees in your jeans, “She’s lying mom, she helped me rip them—“

”Okay, enough,” Susan said sharply, “She’s not my child so I can’t scold her. And it’s already— 7:45,” She suddenly gasped, seeing how late it was, “Will you all get ready so you’re not late to school.”

”Fine. Where are my other jeans?” Rodrick asked, dropping your leg and making you grunt.

”In the wash. I checked all your other pairs for tears and they all smelled so I’m washing them now. You’re lucky I set aside a pair for you this morning.”

”You’re saying, I have to go to school in these?” Rodrick asked, pointing at the monstrosity in question.

”Yes. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before ruining your clothes. Now all of you go.”

You sighed, getting up from your seat and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, your pop tart still in hand.

You glanced down at Rodrick’s jeans again and scoffed out another laugh, before passing him.

”Gimme that,” Rodrick scoffed right back, snatching your pop tart and shoving it in his mouth.

”Hey— that was mine!”

”I don’t care, traitor,” Rodrick’s words muffled by the pop tart, “C’mon turd nuggets,” he yelled over his shoulder to the middle schoolers, who nervously followed you two.

”Calm down already. I’ll help you rip the patches off,” you rolled your eyes, pulling the front door open with him suddenly pushing you forward.

The younger kids shut the door behind all of you.

”I can’t with those two,” Susan sighed. “All these years and I still can’t figure out if they’re good or bad influences on each other.”

”Well, anyone that can keep Rodrick from sleeping straight through an entire day is good in my books,” Frank said, placing his newspaper down, and taking a sip of his coffee. 

“… You’re sure you don’t think they’re in a relationship?” Susan asked, making Frank sigh.

“We’ve been over this honey. Rodrick’s too… he’s not…” Frank tried to select the words carefully as to not say out loud that he thought his son was dumb as a box of rocks. “I just don’t think he’d be able to keep a secret like that.”

”Yeah… you’re right I guess. They just— they seem to be,” Susan glanced at her youngest son, choosin her own words carefully now, “Very comfortable with each other.”

Frank looked up in thought, thinking about how close the two of you seemed… how much closer the two of you seemed after this summer specifically…. Even more specifically after a certain vacation you guys went on with your friends back in July. “You don’t think they’ve…”

Susan raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

”No— no, they couldn’t have.”

”I don’t know Frank. I’m just saying it’s something we should look out for. You know how teenagers are.”

Frank swallowed nervously at the thought of mini Rodricks running around the house.

—

If you had to choose, this was probably your favorite pastime. Riding around in the Löded Diper van, screaming Guns N Roses at the top of yours and Rodricks terrible voices, all the while tormenting your little brothers in the back.

Nothing beats this.

“Welcome to the jungle!— stop moving! I’m gonna stab you!” You yelled over the music as your head was practically in Rodricks lap as you tried to rip up the patches from his jeans… which wasn’t exactly a good look for either of you if anyone decided to look in.

”I’m trying!” He yelled back, “I can’t when I’m driving— stop pushing on my leg, you’re gonna make me hit the car in front of us.”

”You want these patches off or what?”

Rodrick just grunted in response, slamming on the breaks at a red light.

Your brothers’ screams in the back were like music to both of your ears.

“We’re gonna die,” David panted as both him and Greg finally stopped flying around the back of the van.

”I know,” Greg responded. “Why do we get stuck with these two as our siblings— I know someone whose brother takes him out for ice cream after school every Friday.”

”With our luck Rodrick and (Y/N) will get married one day and then we’ll never be able to get rid of them.”

”Ew— ahh!” Greg’s nose screwed up in disgust at the idea of you two marrying each other, right before being jolted backwards as Rodrick slammed on the gas.

A few more minutes of driving and you all came to another rough stop, the music clicking off. “Get out losers,” Rodrick yelled behind him, lifting his leg so you could get a better angle at ripping the threads.

”But we’re not at school,” Greg said, peering out the back window.

”You both have two legs. Walk,” You answered back, throwing a pink patch behind your seats.

”You two just wanna make out, don’t you,” Your brother spat.

You and Rodrick instinctively looked at each other, faces screwed up in disgust.

”Ew,” he hissed.

”As if,” you scoffed, “Now go before I kick your ass.”

You managed to rip off the rest of the patches before school started, his jeans once again looking like the distressed mess you both created in the first place. And you only got away with one stab to his leg, and a little bit of blood but he didn’t need to know about that part.

Parking the van, you both stumbled out, making your way to the building for another day full of napping through lessons.

And hey, you were only twenty minutes late today.

—

You truly didn’t understand why you and the rest of your friends even bothered with school at this point. You weren’t sure a single one of you got through an entire day without skipping or falling asleep in at least one class and you all just copied off of others homework.

Those friends, being the rest of the members of Löded Diper… you didn’t have many girlfriends, for some reason they thought it was weird you hung out around these guys so much. But you didn’t care, you were all going to be famous after high school. You were only a roadie and supporter of the band but that wasn’t going to stop you from becoming famous.

Before you knew it, this fine Friday was over and you and the band would be free for the entire weekend to screw around like usual.

By 3:10 you were climbing into the passenger side of Rodrick’s van once again. Rodrick in the drivers seat and the rest of the guys in the back.

As if on cue, an arm was thrown around the back of your seat and a head popped between you and Rodrick. 

“Hello beautiful,” Ben greeted, leaning forward to place a kiss on your cheek only to be stopped by your hand against his face.

”Hi Ben,” you grinned, “And how was your day?”

”Good,” he mumbled against your hand, picking his lips against your palm in a weak kiss.

”Enough,” Rodrick said, pushing his friend into the back by the shoulder.

”I’m impressed,” you said, seeing all three of them there, “Not a single one of us got detention today.”

”No, I did,” Chris said, “I’m just skipping.”

”Nice,” the rest of you nodded.

With that Rodrick put the van into drive and sped out of the school’s parking lot.

Unlike your little brothers, Ben, Chris, and eventually Bill once you picked him up, actually knew how to have fun. They all laughed and cheered as they were being thrown around the van instead of whining like a bunch of babies.

Finally making it into the garage of the Heffley’s house you found yourself making yourself comfortable on the couch in the garage as Löded Diper began their rehearsal, cheering for them as they all played.

The other thing about the suburbs was when you were stuck in high school and you lived in the suburbs, the monotony of it all took quite the toll on you. There was nothing to keep you occupied, no way to have fun, which was why you and Rodrick were usually left to your own devices and had to find the fun somewhere else.

You would include the other guys as you were all together for the most part, but living right next door to the Heffleys and not only that, being able to see into each other’s rooms, you and Rodrick did tend to spend most of your time together. Because even when you weren’t allowed to see each other due to being grounded or whatnot, you still both snuck each other into the other’s room just to hang out.

Huh… you were starting to see why your brother was convinced you two were dating.

And maybe you would if you were Heather or Rodrick was… literally anybody else.

It was an hour into rehearsal already, you bopped your head along with the atrocious music, singing their awful lyrics to yourself.

That was until Susan came in.

”Rodrick,” she tried, but they kept playing, “Rodrick,” she tried again, this time effectively getting all of you to shut up. “I need to talk to you inside. Now.”

”Oooh,” you instigated, quickly shutting up when Susan shot you a look.

Rodrick stood up, walking around the drumset, “Go ahead and talk. We’re a band,” he came to a stop in front of his mom, “We have no secrets.”

”Okay, fine.” She then pulled out a magazine from behind her back and held it in front of her. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head at the dirty magazine she found.

Rodrick was stunned, “Tha—“ he pointed at the magazine, “That’s not mine,” he was wavering, you could tell.

”Well, it was in your backpack—“

”No, it was in my room.”

Idiot.

“Does owning this magazine make you a better person?” 

It looked like it was time for a lecture.

“No.”

”Did it make you more popular at school?”

“Yes,” Rodrick nodded, looking around at all of you before his eyes landed back on his mom and he realized that that was in fact the wrong answer, “No.” he quickly took back.

“How do you feel about,” she took a step forward, “Having owned this, type of magazine?”

Rodrick thought for a second, “… Ashamed,” he grinned.

”Nice,” Chris cheered.

Susan nodded, her grip so tight on the magazine that you were sure she’d rip it any second. She took another step forward, face to face with her son, “Do you have anything you want to say,” she placed a hand over her heart, “To women. For having owned this offensive magazine?”

Rodrick stared down at his mom, struggling for words.

“I’m sorry, women.”

The rest of the guys started clapping for Rodrick until Susan pinned them with a sharp look, making them stop.

”And I want you to apologize to (Y/N).”

Rodrick scoffed, glancing at you on the couch before looking back at his mom, “Why?”

”Why?” Susan asked, affronted, “Because she is a beautiful young woman that you consider a friend. Owning this magazine is offensive to girls like her.”

”Um… I don’t really care Susan—“ you quickly shut your mouth as she shot you another look.

”Yeah but (Y/N) isn’t like a woman woman,” Rodrick said.

“Excuse me?” Susan hissed.

”Y’know what I mean,” he was starting to flounder again, “She-she’s not like the women in the magazine…” he trailed off.

”What? Just because she isn’t taking naked photos on motorcycles, you don’t consider her a woman?”

”I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” Ben suddenly tried to joke, making you roll your eyes.

Susan ignored him, watching as Rodrick really didn’t know the answer to these questions anymore. “Uh— yes— no. I don’t know, she’s just (Y/N)—“

”Apologize,” she cut him off sharply.

Rodrick then shuffled his way to you, standing in front of your seated form, “I’m sorry for owning that magazine (Y/N).”

“And,” Susan snapped.

”And for not seeing you as a woman…?” He glanced back at his mom to make sure he said the right thing but was only met with an eye roll.

”I forgive you,” you played along, “And don’t worry. I don’t see you as a man,” you grinned sharply as the others all cheered at your diss.

“You’re grounded for two weeks,” Susan said, she was so angry her voice was shaking. She then swiftly turned around and began to stalk out of the garage.

”Ok settle down Susan. I think one week is plenty!”

She quickly turned back around on her heel, “Make it four weeks and I’m gonna need the keys to your van!”

”My van?”

”Yes. Your van. And I want all of you out of here in an hour.” With that she turned around and left the garage.

”I’m gonna become a stripper just to spite you Heffley,” you grunted in annoyance at his whole woman comment about you.

”Yes! I support you (Y/N)!” Ben cheered. 

“Yeah that’ll show me,” Rodrick grumbled, “Let’s just get one more song in.” With that he seated himself behind his drum set and the boys practiced for some more.

—

“I bet you feel pretty stupid now for owning that magazine,” you called out, sitting on the roof just outside your window, staring up at Rodrick as he leaned out his window.

”I don’t even know how she found it,” he practically whined. “I hid it under my bed, and she never checks there anymore after The Thing she found under there.”

”Oh right, that.” You shivered at the memory of what you and Rodrick now called ‘The Thing’ that may have been alive at one point under his bed. “Did she take your keys yet.”

”Yeah.”

”Are you banned from driving to school too?”

”I’m banned from driving anywhere. That includes your car.”

”Shit.” You hissed. That meant you’d have to drive the two of you to school instead and you weren’t exactly comfortable behind the wheel yet.

A comfortable silence filled the air between you two, and you sighed, basking in the cooling air as the sun was setting.

”Y’know Heather Hills asked about you today.”

”Really?”

”No,” you laughed. He always fell for that.

He frowned, ”Yeah well, Nick asked about you today.”

”Really?”

”No,” he laughed loudly.

Oh right. You always fell for that too.

”Asshole.”

”Bitch.”

“I’m gonna tell your mother you’re not being very respectful towards women again.”

”Then have fun driving me to school for two months instead of one.”

”Whatever,” you grumbled under your breath. “Are we still hanging out tomorrow or are you taking the grounding thing seriously this time.”

”We can hang,” he grumbled gnawing at a hangnail now. “Y’know it was probably my stupid brother that told her.”

”Maybe it was. He likes sneaking into your room doesn’t he.”

”Yeah…. Yeah,” Rodrick’s eyes lit up as he seemed to realize something, “That little—“ Rodrick quickly took off after that, leaving you to laugh at the entire situation by yourself.

—

People often wonder why me and Rodrick aren’t a couple. And I always tell them that I grew up with him. I see him nearly 24/7. He’s usually the first person I talk to in the morning. We have breakfast together, go to school together, we even share a bunch of the same classes. We usually even get detention together. We also torture our brothers together.

And what am I supposed to do after school when I’m bored and alone at home? Well I’d just have to go over to my best friends house that I’ve already seen all day anyway, because what else am I supposed to do? And what? Am I just not supposed to hang out with him and the other guys when they come over to rehearse. We even used to have sleepovers a lot when we were younger, but ever since high school our parents banned us from those. I think they’re scared we’re gonna fuck or something.

As if.

Rodrick’s more like a brother to me I think. I mean, I see him just as much if not more than my own brother anyway.

So of course I wouldn’t fuck him. You don’t fuck your brother bcuz ew.

Anyway… today Rodrick got grounded today because his mom found one of his dirty magazines. I was pretty sure Greg was to blame and turns out I was right, Rodrick texted me like ten minutes ago that Greg stole his stash and was holding them as black mail. But Rodrick managed to get him to give them back. So much for Greg’s plan I guess.

And now I’m just writing in here, sitting on the bathroom floor, naked in a towel. I just took a shower and I’m being too lazy to get dressed right now… I’m blasting some Metallica right now and damn they’re good. Too bad Löded Diper doesn’t sound like them. At least they got passion I guess.

Anyway… I guess I should stop being lazy and actually get dressed. 

You slammed your diary shut, shaking out your cramped writing hand. 

You stood up, not bothering to take the towel with you and just abandoning it on your bathroom floor along with your diary. You sang softly along to Master of Puppets playing in your bedroom, nodding your head along to the beat.

You shoved your bathroom door open, the music in your bedroom louder now as you swayed along to it. 

You bounded over to your dresser, leaving damp foot prints in your carpet. You jumped over the blood stain on your rug. You had Rodrick to thank for that one after he cracked a bat over your head, thinking you were Greg instead… the entire week after that was a blur.

You pulled open your underwear drawer with the one good knob, the knob missing on the other side of the drawer was thanks to your brother crashing into your dresser one day.

You pulled out a pair and shimmied them up your legs as you continued to dance along with the music.

Now however, there was a full concert on blast in your head. It took you a while to find the discarded T-shirt you usually slept in, especially with the distraction of the music playing but eventually you found it rolled up in your comforter as usual. And finally as the song ended you pulled on the Löded Diper t-shirt Rodrick made for you.

However, what you saw quickly got rid of the good mood you were in. Because once your head popped through the hole, you made direct eye contact with Rodrick Heffley through your windows.

You forgot to close your fucking blinds.

He was in shock… you were in shock. His jaw hung open, eyes popping out of his head.

The next thing that happened you were sure the entire neighborhood heard as you and Rodrick both screamed at the top of your lungs. He ran straight out of his room and you ran straight for the blinds that you quickly shut.

Your best friend just saw you butt ass naked.

—

Extra:

Frank walked into his bedroom, ready to settle down for the night after a long night of painting his Civil War figurines. 

As he began unbuttoning his button down, he had found his wife already in bed with a magazine in hand.

Everything seemed as usual… that was until he did a double take of the magazine in her hands.

”Uh… Honey?” He asked carefully, approaching her side of the bed. “Whatcha reading?”

“I found this in Rodrick’s backpack today,” she huffed, clearly still angry with her son.

”Okay… is there a reason you’re ‘reading’ it then?”

She looked up at her husband. “I was about to toss it out when I realized some of the pages were dog eared, so like any concerned mother I decided to take a look at what exactly my son is looking at so often that he has to dog ear it.”

”Right, yeah. Cause that’s… rational,” Frank spoke hesitantly.

”And look!” She opened one of the pages that were dog eared and showed Frank a two page spread of some naked woman. Frank quickly panicked and looked up at the ceiling.

“Uh huh?” He nodded.

”Frank, tell me who this girl looks like.”

Frank glanced back down carefully at the pages, before his eyes widened in realization. He yanked the magazine from her hands.

”She— That’s (Y/N)!” He realized in horror that his son was actively searching for naked women that looked like his best friend, whether or not he was aware of that, Frank didn’t know. 

Suddenly saying it out loud sent a shiver down both their spines and Frank quickly shut the magazine. They both agreed that was enough for tonight.

But the vision of the mini Rodricks was becoming more and more vivid by the second.

————————————————————————

Part 2

[i-smoke-chapstick]

What advice or tips do you have for a writer wanting to write the characters from Succession for the first time (Shiv, Kendall, Roman, Tom, Greg etc)

Not sure if this was meant for me, since I haven't yet written for Succession, but I can still try my best to help out! Here are some tips <3 Sorry for the long post.

Whenever I'm writing for a character, I really try to incorporate their canon dialect and dialogues here and there. For instance, Roman stutters on his words quite a bit erratically, and Greg has a lots of "uh"s and "oh"s and awkward, bumbling uncertainty. It's all about the characters voice, because I find fanfics with lots of dialogue to be the most enjoyable! If I was writing for succession, I'd typically try to follow these tips for each character,

Shiv: Shiv sometimes speaks with an underlying tone of superiority, and a lot of her interactions also have fraught tension. When writing a character, you need to look at their insecurities and desires to get a feel for what they want vs. how they express it. Shiv struggles with a desire to prove herself, but wants power. Because of this, she's blunt in all the wrong ways.

This sounds dumb, but I always do a short writing exercise beforehand and I really encourage it! One of my favorite things to do is just imagine the conversation I'm trying to write. For instance, if Y/N were ask Shiv what her favorite color was. She might say something like,

"My favorite color? Seriously, Y/N, that's the question you come up with? Well, if we're going to play this game, I guess I'll indulge you. Let's see... I don't know, maybe the color of money? Honestly, I'm more concerned with the color of success, and right now, it's looking pretty green to me."

Kendall: Similarly stutters like Roman, and can switch between being aggressive and vulnerable.

Here again with the favorite color theory:

"Uh, favorite color? That's a... good question. You know, it's, uh, probably something classic. Black. Yeah, black. It's, uh, timeless, powerful. Like, I don't know, it's just... it's a strong color. Represents, like, the intensity and, uh, the seriousness of, you know, life and business." (Long example, but I'll dive into this!)

Succession characters are very human. The pauses in their words, their overuse of "like" and "uh" (especially for Kendall). I try to use Kendall's "media trained" upbringing as a way for him to spin the question into something flattering for himself. Like if he was in an interview.

While as If we were writing for Roman, he might say something like,

"My favorite color? Seriously? Okay, um, let's go with... I don't know, red? Yeah, red. It's bold, it's sexy. Plus, it's the color of blood, and blood is, like, life or whatever. Or maybe it's just 'cause I look good in it. Either way, red. Final answer."

Roman has a lot more vulgarity in his dialogue, as well as pop-culture references and anything completely outlandish. Sometimes I like piecing together canon dialogue from the show to form answers as well, because the reader can more affectively imagine the character saying it!

Tom: When you're writing a character like Tom, his interactions really depend on whoever he's talking too, and how stressed he is about a situation. If he's speaking to a reader whose a Roy, or more powerful than him in a way, he's fumbling; not trying to impress them per se, but trying to fit in. Also, if in this universe you're writing, Shiv is apart of, Shiv is just a major part of his character in general, he'll probably mention her now and again. Once again, the favourite color theory!

"Oh, my favorite color? Well, I'd have to say blue. It's calming, you know? Reliable. Like a good, steady stock that just keeps going up. Plus, it’s a color that commands a certain... respect. Not too flashy, but still, quite distinguished. And, well, Shiv looks great in blue, so there's that too."

Now, if you're writing for someone like Greg who asks the question, someone who he doesn't view as a threat, Tom is much more assertive and aggressive. He'd be more sarcastic, less enthused, and simply wouldn't care. Might not even answer the question. He has the same loose, condescending tone as Shiv would.

"Oh, my favorite color? You know, Y/N, of all the things you could ask me—my thoughts on the latest market trends, insights on corporate strategy, or even just what I had for breakfast—you went with favorite color. Remarkable. Adorable, really. Y/N, what is this? Preschool? Do I look like someone who has time to contemplate the nuances of the color spectrum?"

Greg: Poor Greg.

"Ah, favorite color, huh? Well, that's a tough one. I reckon I'd have to go with a good ol' forest green. Reminds me of these long hikes through the woods back home. Plus, it's just got this calming vibe to it, you know? Like being surrounded by nature's...embrace." Que the awkward cough, realizing he's ranting or saying things that don't quite sound right.

Greg is more compassionate, more air-headed then the Roy's. He's probably the only one on this list to add a subtle,

"What about you?" To make more semi-awkward conversation.

Okay, Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I really don't think this was meant for my blog, but regardless, I love questions like these <3

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz: Crazy 

You stormed down to the tech lab anger and panic filling the space in your chest. You see your boyfriend sitting in front of a computer typing on a computer with headphones on. He is clearly absorbed in his work and doesn’t notice you until you make it into his peripheral vision. He glances up and into a window seeing your reflection behind him. He swivels in his chair, a smile on his face at the sight of you. It quickly drops off his face when he notices your expression. “Baby...?” 

“When were you going to tell me?” You demand, stopping a foot in front of him. He sits up straighter in his chair and you can tell he is evaluating you. Your jaw is tight with tension, arms crossing over your chest in a distinctively closed-off position. Putting distance between you and him and defending yourself from the emotional blow you felt was coming. 

When Mouse found no clues but anger on your face, he started searching his memory for things that could have brought on this confrontation. He came up empty-handed. You two had always had a very open way of communication, something Mouse wasn’t used to, that often killed problems before they had time to develop. “You know, I’m a lot better at this whole thing when I actually know what we are fighting about.”  

You scoffed at him, shaking your head in disbelief. Your frustration and anger with him were building and you could feel it getting ready to explode through your chest. Mouse could see the emotions bubbling up inside you. He tried to defuse the situation. He stayed calm keeping his voice even as he slid his chair closer to you instead of standing to keep himself smaller. “Hey baby, c’mon now. Talk to me.”  

His hands reached for your hips to try to soothe you. You push the folded paper against his chest a little harder than necessary. You pull your hand back and watch the paper drop into his lap. “I’m talking about this! I can’t believe you didn’t have the decency to give me a heads up, or I don’t know have a conversation before making life-altering decisions for us.” Mouse’s confused blue gaze stayed on you, as he grappled for the paper and unfolded it. He looked down to see what the fuss was about. He stilled when he saw the paper. “Well, say something!” You demand when he stays silent.  

He looks back up at you, blue eyes soft. “Sweetheart, I think you have the wrong idea.” He says gently but it only has the effect of amping you up even more. It sounds like a brush-off- him condescending you. 

“I’m not stupid. It’s a release to go back to your unit. The Ranger’s 75th unit.” Your voice is getting louder, and you are pointing at him angrily. He stays strangely calm as he offers the half-filled paper back out to you. 

“Yeah, you're right. But sweetie look at the date.” His long finger taps the top corner of the page where the date is printed in black ink. You had seen it before it was dated out a month ago. But when your eyes scan back over the page you notice the year. The paper wasn’t from a month ago but a year and a month ago. Your mouth parts into a silent O as your arms drop down. You reach for the paper and Mouse hands it over without any resistance. You bring the paper back up to reread again to make sure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. 

This time when Mouse reaches for your hips you don’t take a step back. “I-wait what?” You mumble as you rake a hand through your hair. He smoothed his hands down your sides and to your thighs. He pulled you closer to him easing you down onto his lap. He traces his hand down your thigh. 

“I was offered to go back to my unit last year. They needed a proficient comms tech. I was struggling with being out of the field here. I felt like...” He paused still struggling with emotions though it had become easier. “Like it would be best for me to go back. Back where I knew that I was the good guy.” 

You searched his blue eyes, “What happened?” 

“I had a felony.” You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You knew that he had done some sketchy things when he got back from the service, but you didn’t know that he had caught a felony. “It was nothing crazy. I was caught with a truck of stolen Blu-Ray players.” He coughs as he adds, “And hacking into the Department of Defense.”  

“You what- why would you hack- you know what, it doesn’t even matter.” Mouse gave you a grateful nod- though he would have told you. “So, you couldn’t go.” He tilted his head back and forth indecisively. 

“Not necessarily, I just needed to get it expunged from my record.” 

“But you couldn’t?” You rub his arm comfortingly. You were trying to squash your gratefulness that it hadn’t worked out for him. If it had the two of you would have ever been here now. In the relationship with a man, you loved.  

He smiled fondly at you, “I did actually.” 

“Then why-?” He squeezed your thigh firmly. 

“Well, I was on my way to convince Jay to help me get it expunged. When I bumped into this beautiful girl at the coffee shop.” The breath caught in your chest. You search his face, a warm loving smile on his lips. He cupped your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with a calloused thumb.  

“You gave it up for a girl you just met? That crazy.” 

“No, I still went through the motions to go back. Keep in contact with my supervisor, went through the process to get my felony expunged.” He paused seeing the tears mist your eyes. Wiping away the tear when it rolled down your cheek. “But I spent time with you too. By the time I got the paper signed for my record to be cleared, I didn’t want to leave you. I knew if I did that would be the end of it for us. And I knew something was there. You were a light in my life. Leaving that without giving it a real shot- that would have been crazy.” 

I hate that Mouse left. Now I changed it so that he gets to stay. <3 I’m starting a tag list if you would like to be added, just leave a comment saying so. 

[cryoniide]

could you do a house x male reader where reader is also struggling through a drug addiction to the point they overdose, and house wonders why they arent responding gets mad at them but then finds out reader is in the hospital due to the OD? angsty comfort? sorry im struggling at the moment and this sounds nice, i understand if its a bit too serious to write about tho

of course i can, i tried my best sorry if it isn’t exactly what you want, i can redo it if needed ^^

i’m here now

gregory house x male reader

it was monday, a universal day that was hated by everyone. why? no one really knows. but, today was a very bad day for y/n l/n. he was an employee at princeton-plainsboro teaching hospital. he was under the finest doctor there, dr. gregory house. now, no one knew why the boy wanted to work with the drug addicted sadist. no one but him. his reasoning? because him and dr. house have one thing in common. drug addiction.

for y/n, it started when he was in high school. he had a shitty childhood which continued into his teen years. only when he found drugs had he found peace. but, as the years progressed, so did his addiction. it’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t even remember a time he was sober, besides the weeks leading up to his every-6-month checkups, which were the closest thing to hell on earth.

but, why was it a shitty day for y/n? well, he had given the wrong diagnosis, and got called an idiot for almost killing a patient. he missed breakfast. got his lunch stolen by his boss. but, the worst thing of all was that there was a new patient. someone from his past. someone he never, ever, wanted to see again. his mother. when he saw her, he turned around.

‘fuck this shit.’

after that, no one saw him the whole day. it was only a few hours after y/n left when house started to get angry.

“how dare that brat leave right after we get assigned a case!” he complained to wilson, who rolled his eyes in response, “have you tried, i dont know, asking him?” wilson replied, not bothering to look up from the folder in his hand.

the whole day, house toyed with the patient to release his frustrations. to be homest, he was starting to get less angry and more worried. he made an excuse saying that y/n is the sharpest one on the team and that the rest of them can’t function without him. when, in reality, house was the one that couldn’t function. wilson was the only one who knew why house was actually worried. why? well, the two sort of have a..romantic relationship.

he tried reaching him. call after call after call, but it all went straight to voicemail. after treating the patient, house found out it was y/n’s mom. he was about to go to his lovers home, when he got a page.

‘room 202, now.’

it was from lisa. he rushed down to the room, seeing the unconscious body of his lover. he rushed to his side grabbing y/n’s hand and looking up at the cuddy. “he overdosed…on oxycodone.”

‘fuck.’ house thought.

how could he had let this slip past him? how could he have not noticed that you were suffering all this time? he wanted to beat himself up over this, but he knew you wouldn’t want that. so he waited, sitting in the chair and watching your vitals all night. he didn’t want to risk losing someone so close to him. not again.

you woke up the next day, your head pounding and your feelings all over the place. you were glad to be alive but, god you wish you weren’t. “y/n?” you turned to the voice, seeing greg sitting next to you. he looked miserable, the bags under his eyes darker than they were before. “are you okay? why didn’t you tell me?” you didn’t say anything. to be honest, you wish you could’ve told him. that you were suffering. that you wanted help. needed help. but, it wasn’t easy to admit you were an addict.

“i know it’s hard, but please, talk to me.” you looked in his eyes. he was worried. genuinely worried. right there, tears escaped your eyes, streaming down your face. he got up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “it’s okay, y/n. i’m here, now. you’re safe, i promise.”

a/n; I HOPE THIS IS OKAY. i tried my best. again, loveeee writing angst, decided to throw in a sad lil backstory hope you dont mind and i hope you enjoyed. on a serious note, if any of you are struggling with addiction, please don’t be afraid to talk to someone and get help, even if its with a friend at first. i have a family member who’s an alcoholic, and i know it isnt the same as drugs but it hurts me to see that person going down this path. i worry that one day they aren’t gonna be here anymore and i really dont want that to be soon. so please, talk to someone, anyone, and don’t be afraid to ask for help <33 you are loved and cared for i promise

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

give us some dbf!hotch i’m begging 😫😫

A Little Help

Warnings: Smut, dbf!hotch, oral (fem receiving), slight sir kink, pet names, vaginal fingering, gagging, masturbation (male and female), Hotch sends you a nude photo 🤭, age gap (both are consenting adults), not proofread, I think that's all!

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader

A/n: I've got some dbf!hotch in my drafts that I have yet to finish but maybe I can do a little something real quick 🤭.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

This post is nsfw minors DNI****

You are in your bedroom when the party starts and you're having some trouble finishing yourself off so you can hurry up and get downstairs. Aaron had been on your mind and it was creating a problem between your legs that you couldn't ignore no matter how hard you tried, but once you got your hand between your thighs it seemed like you just couldn't quite get there. Not without help anyway.

You could hear the noise downstairs as the party your parents were throwing started to get a little louder and you could tell there were plenty of people there to distract your parents from your absence.

You continue to rub your clit as you try to bring yourself over the edge but it seems like every single time you might be getting closer, your body doesn't let you get there and it's more than frustrating for you. A few more minutes of this continue and you sigh at the frustration. It's right then that your bedroom door opens and you jump in surprise and move to cover yourself but you stop when you see Aaron walk through the door with a smirk on his face as he closes it behind him.

"Aaron!" You whisper shout at him and he chuckles a little as he sees what you've been up to. "So this is what's keeping you from the party? I'll have to come up with a different excuse for your parents. They asked about you but I think they're distracted by the new guests that keep talking their ears off." He stands there with that smirk and his arms crossed over his chest as he looks you over and you just lay there frozen as you look back at him. Your hand is still between your thighs but it has stopped its movements.

"You sounded frustrated before I came in, princess. Do you need some help?" His voice sends more arousal straight to your core and you lick your lips before nodding. He smiles and climbs on the bed and you instinctively spread your legs for him. Aaron situates himself between your thighs now and swats your hand away from yourself. He kisses and nibbles on the insides of your thighs, licking them and sucking on them.

Finally he gets his face right where you need it and he licks up some of your slick from your folds which immediately pulls a groan from him, thankfully it's muffled by your dripping cunt. The vibrations feel like heaven and you let your head fall back against your pillow as your hands tangle in his hair to keep him in place.

Soon enough Aaron is lapping at you. It's been a few weeks since he's tasted you and you've both missed it. He has felt starved from you and it is clear to you as he eats you out like he's desperate for it. His tongue flicks your clit and you moan at the sensation but a quick slap to your thigh quiets you down.

"Keep it down, princess. I love your sounds but right now we have to be quiet, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?" Aaron plants a soft chaste kiss on your aching bud and you whimper at him but nod. "Yes, sir." Another kiss. "Good girl." He moves his tongue to your hole and starts thrusting it in and out of you and he moans into your cunt as he gets a better taste of what he's been missing the last few weeks.

You have to cover your mouth with your hand when Aaron brings his hand up and starts rubbing your clit with his thumb as he continues to lap at your pussy. He quickly brings you your first and much needed orgasm of the night which causes another moan to slip from your lips but he lets it go for now so he can ride you through your high.

As soon as you finish, Aaron reaches for your lace underwear and grabs your mouth. He stuffs the fabric in and you look at him with wide eyes.

"You can't keep yourself quiet so we had to fix that." He quickly moves back down and wastes no more time before pushing two of his thick digits into your throbbing core. He brings his mouth back to your clit and starts licking and sucking and flicking it in a way that has you closing in on your second orgasm faster than you would have thought possible after how long it was taking you to just get your first one earlier by yourself.

Aaron pulls his mouth away briefly to speak. "Come on, angel. Be a good girl and soak my fingers. I know you can do it." As soon as he gets his mouth back on your sensitive bundle of nerves, your second orgasm crashes through you and you are both thankful for the underwear that is muffling your moans.

As soon as you come down from your second high, Aaron ceases his movements and pulls the underwear from your mouth. "I would love to stay and cuddle you but need to get dressed and get downstairs before someone else comes up to find you. And I need to go take care of this." Aaron gestures to his throbbing cock that is currently pressed against your hip.

You nod and he helps you up before handing the underwear back to you. You don't take it though. Instead, you push his hand back towards him. "Use it to get off. I have plenty of others." You smile at him and he just grins at you. When he kisses your lips you can taste yourself on them and it nearly makes you say 'fuck it' and decide to stay but you know you can't take any longer to join the party. So you reluctantly pull away and dress yourself as you move with wobbly legs.

"I'll see you downstairs then?" You ask him and he gets a little shy as he blushes and nods. "Yeah, in a few minutes. Tell them I had to use the toilet if they ask where I am." You nod your head and kiss him again, palming his member through the fabric as you do and he moans against your lips but you pull away and he sighs. "Okay, go before I change my mind and keep you up here with me. We can have more fun later but right now you really need to make an appearance at the party." You kiss him one last time before walking over to the door.

"Have fun, Aaron. Send me a photo. I want to see your cock wrapped up in my underwear as you get off with them." You wink at him and grin more which only makes him blush even more. He nods and you finally leave the room to join the party which you can't even remember the purpose of. Sure enough, a few minutes later you hear your phone chime and you sneak a glance at it to see a picture from Aaron. His large hand and your soaked underwear wrapped around his dick as he strokes himself in your room. It nearly makes you moan but you manage to suppress it and focus on the party once again.

You know you'll both be having some more fun later. You'll coincidentally have plans and have to leave shortly after Aaron does. And then you'll end up in his bed as he pounds into you and your moans will fill his ears as his fill yours.

[strangesthirdeye]

Listen Before I Go (SH x Fem! Reader)

Summary: A quick call won't hurt, right?

Warning: It's Sherlock everyone like him..heavy angst? Attempt Suicide, mental breakdown, mental health, You are loved by people, don't do that. You need a hug, pleading, high ceiling, hanging rope, almost suffocating. The Empty Hearse episode.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One more loop and the knots are strong enough to support your weight. You sighed heavily. The creaking sound of the chair under your feet is heard when you make some motions on it. You look around your living room. Everything is scattered and unmanaged. Papers and books on the floor not to mentioned chairs are scattered around the living room, just like your wooden table.

you exhaled a heavy breath and looked up to see the noose hanging from the ceiling of your house. Well, here it is. After running around in your own mind and going through all the painful and stressful things in the real world, you are finally lost. Those things successfully kick your ass. Not to mention what happened to Sherlock two years ago. He committed suicide and claimed he was a liar, but that was not true. Why did he do that makes it a question mark for you, John, Mrs Hudson, Greg, Molly and Lestrade. Mycroft? hmm, he's just quiet. There was no news from him after that.

As if he has disappeared from existence.

Every dark plagued plays in your mind. All those rude people who curse Sherlock and proudly claim that Sherlock is a fraud. Not to mention those people have started bothering Sherlock's friends including you as his girlfriend. Those people don't know the meaning of grief.

You then look down. This is high enough. As long as your feet do not touch the floor is enough. Suffocate is not the first thing in your mind but because you don't want to commit suicide dirty with blood, you immediately decide to hang yourself. At least your life is taken slowly and in that time you can see all the happy memories at the end of your time.

You stand on your tiptoes and stick your head into the noose. The noose gently ends around your neck. Your hands started to tighten the noose around your neck so that it would be tight and not come loose when you hung it later. You sighed for the second time.

You are not afraid but nervous. Well, at least you know what your destiny is. You then close your eyes and your legs are ready to push the chair. All of the sudden, your phone rang in your pants pocket. You were shocked and almost pushed the chair under you but luckily the chair didn't slip.

You fish out your pocket and take your phone out of your pocket. You gulped your saliva slowly when you saw the contact on your phone.

John.

You immediately slide accept and open the speaker.

"Y/n"

"Hey, John"

"Where are you now? I need to tell you something.. Might be a surprise from me to you... I guess" John chuckled a little. Following with his hype tone means that John is in a good mood. Good. You're going to ruin his mood if you tell him what you're up to.

"what is it that you want to tell me? Is it Mary tho?" You pretend to hype your voice just to hide your crack tone.

"Well, I prefer to tell you at a cafe around your house only if you're not busy" John reasoned.

"well, i can't go out now.. can you just tell me on the phone instead? i kind of not really having a mood to go out anymore" You bit your lip slightly.

John was silent for a moment. You can imagine his confused face in your mind. Classic John. Gonna miss him.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

"mhmm.. I'm always alright" You replied.

"really? cuz' that's not how your 'alright' voice sounds like" John said suspiciously. "is it about Sherlock again?" John added.

Dammit. Why does he have to be the one who is always right? You are silent.

"It's been two years, Y/n. You have to let go that 'feeling'. It's not good for you" John said as if a father was advising his children to be useful human beings.

"you don't understand, aren't you? It's not easy. You have Mary.. while I don't have no one. No one to help me. Not even Mycroft. And I don't want to bring Mrs Hudson into this. She's already got a lot of plates in her hands." you paused you stand on your tiptoes.

"well, at least you don't have to deal with me anymore. I know what I'm doing now is a very useful thing. You don't have to worry about me." you added, the voice started to crack.

"What are you doing right now, Y/n. Don't you dare say that to me. I know exactly what you are trying to do. I'm coming" John's voice seemed to rush.

"tell me, John" you spoke up.

"what" John snapped trying to stop himself from yelling at you not to say negative things again.

"tell me what you want to say to me. That you expect me to be surprised" You closed your eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

John let out a heavy breath. "I- oh god! this is not the situation I expected to tell you what it is. Taxi!" John yelled. John's voice then became muffled for a few moments before it became clear again. John then hurriedly told the cab driver your home address. Although the location is quite far from your house, John doesn't care about the fare. As long as he can save his other friend this time.

"just hold on. Don't end the call" John informed you firmly. John then sighed anxiously. "I-I plan to propose Mary tonight"

You smiled sadly. "is it going to be fancy? big?" you questioned him.

"fancy but simple.. oh gosh, why can't you just.. not doing all these things? You have many other things out there to go through! why now do you want to end it?" John is furiously rich.

"I think this is the end of my story. I've got nothing out there to go through. You have Mary. She's the one, John. Marry her. Make her half of your life. Have a family." You said lowly. your toes little by little push the chair under you.

"don't you dare say that. Think about it again. Sherlock doesn't want all this. He doesn't like any decision to end your life. He despises it. He wants you to move on and live a normal life. Normal life! Don't you want that? Find someone who can be with you for the rest of your life. Please.. I don't want to lose my best friend again" John begged.

Your line is quiet. Only the sound of the cab that John was riding in was heard. You look down. The hanging rope around the neck feels tight.

You know he's right but why don't you move away from the noose that is now resting on your neck? Sherlock doesn't like this. He despises it like John said earlier. Why then don't you open the rope and get off the chair? It's not going to work you know. Kill yourself. It's not.

Every thousand possibilities play in your mind as you hold the phone tightly in your hand. You bit your lips hard.

"I can't hold it anymore. The feeling of pain, grief and lost. It's not easy like what you say. It's just- Move on? no.. it's not working." you sobbed.

"No.." John paused. Probably is choosing and arranging the next sentence. "No, it's not easy. But, Sherlock wouldn't want that, right? So whatever you're doing now just drop it. Please. For the sake of Sherlock Holmes" John added in a tone of hope.

You paused and closed your eyes. Thumbs up on the screen. "I'm sorry, John" and you ended the call.

'just get on with it' whispered the demon in your ear. You choked on your own tears in your throat. You tossed your phone aside and stared for a moment then without hesitation you pushed the chair down so fast that it landed on the floor. But you don't fall, you float in the air with a hanging rope around your neck.

And there goes your oxygen is cut off quickly as you gasp for air while thrashing in the air. Both hands on the noose around your neck while your eyes darted around the living room. Mouth part away trying to get even a little oxygen. Your skin's colour is getting paler and your brain is in a state of shock when the oxygen is getting less and less to the brain.

You almost lost consciousness and then you see it. Life flashes before your eyes. Happy and sad memories. All in one. As the last piece of memories played in your eyes, you finally lost consciousness. Both your hands limp to the side while your head lolled forward. Your hair frames your pale face. But not before you hear the door of your house burst open by someone. Someone who you didn't get to see as your eyes are now tightly closed. Welcoming the feeling of a blanket of darkness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eyes opened slowly as you gasped to take enough oxygen into your body system. Every thought plays in your mind. Why can't you just go in peace? Why do people have to bother you?

You look around the living room. Now you are lying on the floor. Eyes on the ceiling while your breath is still panting. Everything is hurt especially in your neck. You can still feel the texture of the hanging rope around your neck.

You curse whoever messed up your suicide attempt. It could be John but the taxi John took could not be able to get here quickly. So who? You glared at the person who was kneeling next to you but then as soon as your eyes landed on the silhouette, you widened your eyes.

there he is, a man who claims to be a sociopath and never believes in sentiment but then falls into the terms boyfriend and girlfriend. His brunette hair, his eyes, his cheek bones and his face are still the same but at the same time he looks a little mature. While his eyes hold emotions that are very heavy plus panic and concerned etched on his face.

Sherlock Holmes. The so called 'fraud' is now on your side.

"What were you thinking?!" Sherlock said loudly.

You are stunned. Sherlock then touched your shoulder and shook it a little trying to get you out of the trance.

Oh, God. What you think is a dream is actually not a dream but real. The feeling of him touching your shoulder and his deep raspy and smoky timbre makes you miss him so much. Your eyes start to glaze over with tears.

"Sherlock?" you whispered his name.

Sherlock looked at you with concern and tried to help you sit up. "what were you thinking? Suffocate yourself to death? why? just why?"

"because you died! For two years. I thought you were dead once your body hit the ground in front of the hospital. Two years, Sherlock. Two years. And you think I can live without you just like that?" you yelled while slapping him on the chest several times.

Sherlock deflected your blow by holding both of your wrists to his chest. He looked at you with sympathy. "I want to save you and the others. This is all I can do. Moriarty will do worse than what you don't expect that's why I have to do that. Two years I tried to take down his network and now I'm here. What you did earlier there was the most horrible thing for me. I don't want to come back home knowing that you are dead."

You thought for a moment. Your red eyes looked at Sherlock's face with realization on your face. And then you sniffed and leaned your head on his chest.

Sherlock then put his arms around you. His right hand was placed on the back of your head and stroked gently while his head was placed on top of your head.

"You saved me.. oh, how stupid I am to do that" you sobbed.

"no you're not stupid. Don't say that. You are the most brilliant and courageous woman I know. Your intelligent and kind attitude makes me adore and fond of you more.. listen, I don't always say this but you are the only reason I'm coming home. Please.. don't do that ever again" Sherlock said while kissing your hair.

"John will be here soon." you say. Your voice is muffled in his chest.

"let him. might as well make it a surprise for him." Sherlock joked trying to lighten up the mood.

You chuckled tearfully and then hugged Sherlock tightly. Sherlock smiled gently and tightened his arms and rocked you left and right with his eyes closed.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

67 for the drabble challenge:>>

Hey Jade! Thanks for asking, hope you don't mind that i turned your bloody ask into something a little more domestic

67. “You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

Ian had just run out of Lip and Tami’s housewarming party for more soda, he’d barely been gone five minutes but the scene he returned to was far from the relatively banal Sunday afternoon barbecue he'd left behind. 

“Oh Jesus, I think it’s broken” Debbie was shrieking. 

“It’s not broken,” Lip argued dismissively. “Mickey, lean your fucking head back.” 

“I think he has to go further back, like lean his head back off the edge of the table to keep the blood in” Carl chimed in.

“I’m not fuckin’ doing that” Mickey’s muffled voice snapped.

“Yeah, definitely don’t” Liam said nervously.

“Mickey, shut up. Every time you open your mouth you’re bleeding all over my carpet!” Tami snapped. 

“What the hell happened?” Ian interrupted, taking in the scene in the living room. Lip had a bloody cloth pressed none too gently against the lower half of Mickey’s face, everyone else was crowded around the couch eyeing him curiously, especially Franny, who was trying to get a peak around the cloth. 

For a second, all the heads in the room snapped to him and no one said anything. The perfect stillness was broken by Freddy’s barely stifled sniffles finally pouring over into real tears, as he dropped the baseball he was holding and brought both chubby kid hands up to cover his eyes.

It was pretty easy to put together what happened, he had been so thrilled to start his first tee-ball season, for a second Ian worried that this would ruin the sensitive kid’s excitement. 

“I’m so sorry,” he wailed. Mickey shrugged Lip off of him, revealing the path of blood gushing from his nose and down the front of his mouth and chin. Someone drew in a harsh breath at the sight, but Mickey just leaned forward towards where Freddy was watching him pitifully.

“Look kid, you don’t gotta’ apologize to me. It was an accident, accidents happen. I’m a little bloody but I still have all my teeth” Mickey started, showing off his teeth, blood stained but thankfully intact. 

He sniffed and winced slightly but recovered quickly. “Just be more careful where you throw that thing, got it?” He said, nodding at the baseball and the small red stain it left on the beige rug Tami was so worried about. 

“I’ll be careful Uncle Mickey,” Fred agreed hastily, watching him with wide, tearful eyes. 

“Okay, go get me some frozen peas, you know where they are right?” Mickey said easily, leaning back with the towel back on his face.

Freddy ran back into the kitchen excitedly, happy enough to have a sense that he could help make it better. Everyone dispersed from there, and Lip walked over to join his bother.

“The worst thing you’ve ever done to me was make Mickey Milkovich my kid’s favorite Uncle,” Lip joked as he took the soda out of a shocked Ian’s hand, freeing him from his spot in the entry way so he could intercept Fred on his way back to the living room. Ian took the cold peas with a ruffle through his blonde curls and sent him off gently with Franny. 

“He got you good, huh?” Ian said, wrapping the ice pack in a towel and pressing it gently against the damaged area slowly turning purple.

“The kid has an arm like Greg fuckin’ Maddux” Mickey groaned quietly, finally dropping the brave face he was putting on for Fred. “This shit hurts like hell.” 

Ian settled next to him on the couch, hold the bundle to his enflamed skin. “You were very nice, might have saved his future professional career” he joked.

“What am I going to do, give him the Terry Milkovich special?” Mickey shrugged uncomfortably after a beat. 

“Nah,” Ian said lightly, tipping Mickey back gently with a hand on the back of his neck. “Come on, we can get you in a dark, air-conditioned room with extra strength Tylenol. Let’s just grab a couple plates of food, they owe us.”

“Sounds great” Mickey responded sarcastically. “Nothing goes with the taste of blood like your sisters shitty potato salad.”

Ian ran off to collect some food before returning to the living room and guiding Mickey out.

"-was an ugly fucking carpet anyways."

hope you liked it!

Prompt game fun!