You were not a weak person, nor are you ever so overly emotional. 

In fact, most of everyone who knew you ( admittedly a very small amount) would describe you as anything but weak

So what the hell is this?

"What do you think I should say when I get there?” Your voice is as rocky as a glacier and the sun is burning heavily through your fishnets. You could feel every heat ray seep through your long sleeved Black Sabbath shirt and your make up was feeling particularly cakey. Were it not for your best friend forcing you to face Rodrick, you would've been happy to spend the rest of your day huddled up in your listening, listening to the grave sounds of Bauhaus as you unplaited your hair.

The sun wouldn't normally be a problem for you. You'd wear these clothes if the sun was at your doorstep.

But right now, your senses are heightened. The stares you get wouldn't normally bother you, but this friday afternoon, they're piercing all over you. 

"You look constipated," your best friend says as she clutches her glitter covered notebook to her chest. "Stop that-" her lips stained in hot pink pull into a downwards smile.

In contrast, your black stained lips are pulled in a very obvious frown while the dread consumes your face. You walk side by side towards the boys dorm and usually the juxtapositioning doesn't bother you, but a great many things bother you today. You feel like a dark cloud beside her quirky pink perfumed self. Her hair is long and reigned in with a pink bow while your black braids were constantly tied back with a black knitted scrunchie. The juxtaposition didnt bother you.

This afternoon, you’re just hyper-aware of all the boys peppered outside the dormitories. And all their eyes are looking through you. As if you were nothing but a spectre.

Everyone except Rodrick seemed to look through you. When you had met him, it was as if a veil was lifted and suddenly you were thrust into the light.

You had been wall-flowering at a party in your first year of university. Your best friend, lost among the crown while you dug your earbuds in.

If it weren't for the shadow that had fallen over your frame, you might have fallen asleep right then and there, to the sound of Ghost’s instrumentals blasting in your eardrums.

You noticed him waving frantically at you, having yet to remove your earbuds. You didn't know what to make of his thickly applied eyeliner or his messy-on-purpose head of hair. But back then, you didn't really trust this university setting. 

For all you knew, his Joy Division shirt was a means to trap unsuspecting weird girls into sleeping with him.

And so with a very unimpressed frown you had shaked your head and said, “Sorry, I dont have any change,”

He threw his head back in laughter at that. 

He liked you even more now. 

Sure you were the only girl at this party he could ever imagine exchanging saliva with but now he realised you had a personality too? He was a goner.

“I’m not homeless,” His voice reached your ears and you soon realised that he had forcefully removed one bud, “Just wanted to ask you what you were drinking,”

“Why?” Your eyes scanned from his face, to his worn out boots, “Are you planning on messing with it?”

“Jesus,” He cackled, “I should've mentioned that I’m very clearly not a member of any sort of frat.” He raised his hands and said, “I come in peace,”

“I’m not planning on sleeping with you,” 

“I dont need to drug you to get you to sleep woth me,” He leaned awkwardly against the wall and said, “I’m in a band,”

“That doesnt work on me,”

Except it had, and that very evening you and Rodrick had exchanged saliva in a very long make out session that carried you to his on-campus dorm room. 

The very building you are currently navigating, in search of his room.

“I can feel my heart beating out my ribcage,” Your best friend stops in front of a door, one of many down a very long hall.

“It's  fault for ditching the guy the morning after,”

“I didn't ditch him,” You murmured, staring at the floor in shame,

“I'm sorry,” she says, “but the walk of shame story I keep hearing from the football boys about the girl dressed in black fleeing the halls can only be one person-”

“Just go talk to your boyfirned,” You had grumbled.” The door swung open. Your best friend pushed you in the direction of room 7112 as she said, “And you go talk to yours,”

Before you left, you quickly asked, “So, I like… look okay?”

She shook her head, causing another nauseating wave of anxiety to flood your system. “You look like you crawled out of a cemetery.” She says, assessing your very plain and incredibly boring black long-sleeve shirt and your ripped black skirt worn overy ripped stockings.

“Which is how you usually look,” She says, causing your heart to lessen its alarm, “All that black lipstick will send the Freakshow into an absolute spiral,” She winked before sending you on your merry way.

When Rodreick Heffley hears a knock on his door, he almost immediately assumes it's for his roomate. Then he remembers he’s a third year, with no roommate in sight. “Uh-What is it!?” Is all he screamed at the door, hoping that whoever it is would leave him alone. He hadn't been too close, the actress on his laptop screen was far too loud, and far too… perky. He knew that if he closed his eyes and just focused hard enough, he'd be rid of this horrible boner that had been plaguing him for weeks.

Since you left him.

“Don’t do that,” Rodrick squeezed his eyes shut, “Do not think about she-who-shall-not-be-named.” The knock sounded again and he angrily paused his video as he stuffed his cock back into his jeans. Rodrick cursed as he wied his hand with some clothing item littering across his floor and his voice is less-than-friendly when he rips the door open.

“Uh-”

He has to take a moment to close his eyes. When he opens them, you are standing there, sheepishly raising your hand to wave.

“She-who-shall-not-be-named,” He says in an airy whisper.

“What?” You tilt your head questioningly.

Before you can get another word out Rodrick slams the door in your face. Unbeknownst to you, he’s trying to get rid of a week's worth of masturbation material. Evidence of how badly you had affected him, how lonely he had been since you left. He even opened the curtains and when he opened the door again, you noticed he smelled vaguely like aftershave.

“W-What brings you back here?” He tries to be cold. He really does. But this is you. His heart is soaring at the very sight of you. 

Beautiful you. 

In your dark eyeliner and equally dark lips.

He looks away because he has to. You hadnt even said more than 5 words to him but his body was already having a very niticebale response to your presence.

He opens the door wider as he lets you in, “Did you forget something?” He all but sneers and you squeeze your eyes shut as you slide his door closed behind you. You were in this room again and the flashbacks were almost unstoppable. You remembered the way he kissed you. The way he prioritised your pleasure-

“I’m sorry,” You say, completely knocking the wind out of him, “When I left like how I did, I thought I was protecting myself… I didn't know if you wanted anything serious,”

“I would’ve told you I did,” He says, staring at the ground as he stands in the middle of the room, like a tall tree lost in the middle of nowhere, “but we were a little too preoccupied sucking face,”

You snort at that, and he smiles too.

He didn't wanna admit how terribly he had taken your departure. You were the first girl that liked him back. The first girl to actually like his presence. The first girl he could talk to about the things that made him smile. The sleepless nights bled into restless days. Days spent coaxing a jumpy knee under every table…

“So you missed me then?” A smirk flitted on his face as he folded his arms. You rolled your eyes as the cockiness reared its head, moving to sit down on his bed as you hid your smile.

“I didn't say all that,” You declared,

"Don't be like that," he says stalking towards you, his voice suddenly serious but a smile still present, "I know you missed me,"

The arrogance dripping from his voice escalates your blood pressure and sends all your inner systems into overdrive. As his shadow falls over you, you unconsciously lean further against the bed until you're lying supine. "You look like a whore," You can't help but say, eyeing his tight short sleeve shirt showing off a sliver of his waist.

He gasps, "Whatever do you mean?" Rodrick playfully lifts a leg up as he crawls on top of you. "Is the seduction working? Because yours is working on me. I’m trying incredibly hard not to eye-fuck you right now," He's made himself comfortable on his side but his eyes are the very juxtapositioning of 'relaxed'. They unapologetically scan your thighs, clad in your netted stockings

"Get over here," he rasps, "My patience is running incredibly thin," and so you do. You lift your torso and he hovers over you as you both meet in the middle. Rodrick murmurs against your lips, the kiss is furious and hurried and you don't know where to put your hands, "Everything about you is so fucking electric," if only he knew, the only electricity, in your mundane life was brought on by him. 

With him, your life was a hazy sea of black eyeliner and a never sweet, loud music. He made you feel alive.

Rodrick’s lips push furiously against yours, scolding you for your absence, punishing you for your distance. "Crazy," he says as his lips drift to the side of your mouth, "I've been going fucking crazy without you,"

Your mind races with the sudden electrifying feeling of having him back. Rodrick’s hands slithered to the nape of your neck, as he eases your head onto the mattress.

Rodrick’s hand soon finds your breast, soft under the fabric as he groans against your skin. “Fuck, I might not last long,” He admits, already rolling his hips into yours.

“Me too,” You admit, causing another loud moan to leave his lips.

He silences you with another fervid kiss. You're completely lost in him. In the intense smell of weed and leather. The unmistakable sting of metal on your skin. His full and awfully skilled lips are far too eager to get to your breasts. 

"This-" he rasps. You’re not even cognitively aware that he's lowered you onto the blanket, his teeth feel far too fucking good as they scrape along the material covering your breasts, "This shit," he hovers lightly above you, "This shit needs to come off."

"Are you asking for my permission?" You prop yourself up by your forearms, mouth swollen from his kisses as you smirk. "Since when did Rodrick Heffley ever ask permission for anything in his life?" 

Your words send a warm string of pleasure straight through his cock and he audibly groans as he sits back on his haunches. 

He sings in an awfully cherry voice: "Hands up now! Be a good girl," 

"You're fucking crazy," You whisper as you raise your hands, letting him undress you.

He watches you like a hawk, gauging your every reaction, to make sure you even wanted this- even wanted him at all. The moment your nipples, dark and erect, come into his field of vision, he knows he’s done. "This isn't gonna hurt," he whispers, feeling the need to reassure you. "I promise-"

"Rodrick?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm begging you to fuck me," 

Every single part of your being was screaming for him since the moment you arrived.  You had barely been able to keep a straight face throughout the entirety of your mindless conversation.

"You look so fucking hot right now," he says, lowering his lips to your ear, sending a plethora tiny, reassuring kisses, as if trying to distract you from your wrists meeting above your head, and the jangle of the metal joinging them together. 

You look up and your heart rattles when you notice him binding your wrists above your head.

"You have no fucking idea how much I've thought about this moment," the usual rasp in his voice is somehow raspier, darker.

"You've thought about this?" You queried as he stripped your bottom bare, “Kinky, Kinky boy,” You say as your legs spread unprecedentedly. He sends an awed look at your legs before staring back at you.

"Fuck yes," he replies, "I've had nothing but my hand to-" he chuckles dryly, "fill the void,"

He tugs on the cuffs and you gasp, completely unprepared for the wave of arousal that washes over you. "These good?" He asks and you nod.

“Perfect," Rodrick lowers his head to your supine body once more, "I think you're fucking perfect," 

He drags a hand over your body, over the curve of your breast and over the softness of your belly until his fingers meet your exposed cunt. Your head is a wild cloud of braids against the blanket but you could hardly care. You couldn't care less about how completely needy you were for him.

"Jesus- Rodrick" his fingers slip through your folds, eager to spread the embarrassing amount of slick already accumulated there. 

"I need you to promise me," Rodrick watches his hand disappear in your pants as he begins to set a steady, mind numbing pace.

"What're are you- Holy fuck, just there," your back arches off the blanket, eager for your clit to meet his fingers. But he relents.

"I need you to promise me you'll never disappear again."

There's an agonisingly slow build-up as Rodrick’s callused fingers tease your sensitive clit. 

"You gotta say it, Babe, or the declaration is null and void-"

"Yes!" You reply with a quickness, "Okay? I-yes..."

There's a shit-eating grin that splayed over his face. "Now the fun begins," 

You're far too focused on bringing yourself to orgasm, but your entire plan crumbles when he slips his hand out of your pants. You glare up at him, dissatisfaction radiating off of you in waves.

"Don't be like that,” He teases. “I've got little Ole needs too." His quick in discarding his shirt, and as he does so, your anger dissipates for a few heavenly seconds. His tattoo is a glorious patch of ink splashed on an ivory wall. A mark any normal person would undoubtedly regret in their later life and see as the product of a dumb adolescent mistake. But Rodrick never regretted anything he did. He was as firm as the ground beneath you.

"I fucking-" His lips meet the inside of your thigh, "-can't believe this is a thing that's happening,"

"It's happening," You say, unable to curb your enthusiasm. Your own voice is thick with desire. 

"I need you so fucking bad." He says, "I need to be inside you so fucking bad," 

Rodrick is quick to lower his jeans. He uncovers his hard cock, moving his hand along its length, as he stares at you in complete awe. "Hey, Babe?" You begrudgingly drag your gaze away from his hand to his face. "Try not to have the time of your life, m'kay," 

You're about to chide him but he slams his cock all the way into you. His movements are sloppy as they are hurried, and your eyes roll back from the intensity at having every single need met.

"Fuck yes, Rodrick!" Your wanton moans bounce into his ears, filling him with brazing satisfaction. Your hands cuffed above your head elicit another wave of pleasure. Youre utterly bared to him.

"You're never leaving me again, alright?" His forearm is beside your head, allowing him to watch you intensely as he pounds his cock further in. "You're never gonna pull that shit again," His angry thrusts punctuate his sentence, pushing every unsavoury sound out of your throat.

"I fucking promise- OH FUCK-" He sends a hand in between your intwined bodies, flicking your clit and having your cunt tighten deliciously around him.

"Are you gonna cum already?" 

"Shut the fuck-"

"Don't worry," he buries his head in the nape of your neck. "I'm right behind you,"

Rodrick’s thrust deepens and his pace around your clit accelerates until you're finally pushed over the edge. Your vision sprinkles with flecks of light as blind as the stars above you as you cum. "OH JESUS-SHIT," Rodrick pulls out of your wet cunt. Hurriedly stradling your hips before shooting ropes of cum all over your stomach.

You don't mind.

You feared Rodrick could get away with anything.

"Holy fuck- I-Im so sorry," 

He quickly somersaults up from his overzealous fit of pleasure and peers down at you wide-eyed. "Jesus Christ I- I should get you cleaned up," 

You chuckle, as you watch the boy scramble to find the keys to the cuffs. "Don't worry- I could just rinse off in the later-"

His ears perk up at that. Rodrick looks down at his nail painted in onyx, “L-Later?” He asks shyly. That means youre staying.

Your relationship was complicated to say the least. Rodrick and you were bandmates, simply just friends. However it was obvious to nearly everyone that you liked one another. Occasionally you held hands or even shared a bed every so often, but it never went any further. 

Tonight however you were the person Rodrick came running to. His parents had thrown him and a duffle bag of his things out when they discovered his not so secret stash of weed. It was freezing out as rain poured down from the dark sky. Immediately Rodrick was soaked, his messy hair sticking to his forehead. He knew he had nowhere to go, no one would house him, except maybe you. Quickly Rodrick snatched up his back before hurrying down the wet pavement to your house. 

He stood on your doorstep, awkwardly swaying as he thought of what to say. Eventually he raised his fist before knocking firmly against your front door. 

“ Coming! ”

Rodrick heard your muffled call through the door before he heard footsteps coming down the stairs After a few moments the door opened revealing you standing there in your pajamas. 

“ Rodrick? ”

“ Hey.. ”

Rodrick stood on your doorstep, water dripping from his hair and nose. His clothes were entirely soaked causing the fabric to cling to his skin. 

“ Can I come in, it’s fucking freezing. ”

Swiftly you moved aside letting Rodrick step into your entryway.

“ What happened? ”

“ My parents found my “ rockstar memorabilia ”, basically my weed stash.. ”

“ Jesus Rodrick. I thought you quit smoking. ”

“ Yeah, I did for a while. Don’t lecture me right now. I don’t have anywhere else to go, just tell me I can stay the night.. ”

“ My parents are gone for the week, after that we can talk more about it. ”

Gently you reached out pulling him into a gentle hug. At first Rodrick stiffened at the sudden contact caught off guard by the sudden hug. After a moment he relaxed into your embrace, his arms snaking around your waist. His wet clothes pressed against yours, the rain water soaking your front slowly. 

“ I’m getting you soaked.. ”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. ”

Carefully Rodrick pulled back, tugging down the zipper on his hoodie before letting it fall to the floor with a soft plop. You reached out, your fingers ghosting over his abdomen before you pulled his damp shirt over his head. Rodrick didn’t protest at your help, instead he raised his arms letting you take control.

“ Do you want to take a hot shower? ”

“ Yeah, please. ”

In all the years you had known Rodrick you had never seen him so gentle and quiet. For once in his life Rodrick needed to be handled with care. 

You took his hand in yours, silently leading him up the stairs. Rodrick trailed behind you like a lost puppy. You lead him to your bathroom, closing the door behind you before moving to the bath tub. You turned the knob on the faucet, setting it to a comfortable temperature before pulling back. Your back faced Rodrick as you tugged off your own damp clothes. For a moment he stood watching you undress before he managed to regain his focus. His hands moved to his jeans struggling to push the tight fabric down his legs, but eventually he managed. 

Silently you both climbed into the shower, standing together under the warm stream of water. All Rodrick could focus on was you. Your body was so close to his, your hair wet and clinging to your skin. Without thinking he pulled you against himself. 

Rodrick looked down at you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. The shower's steam curled around you both hiding you in a fog. For the first time tonight, he felt warm and wanted. You were looking at him like he meant something, like he was more than just some dirtbag. 

You reached out, pumping a few squirts of shampoo in your hand before running your soap covered fingers through Rodrick’s wet hair.

He let a soft groan slip past his lips as your fingers massaged his scalp. Slowly Rodrick’s head fell forward against your shoulder. His body relaxed against yours, letting you take care of him. Your hands massaged the soap into his hair before rinsing the suds away. 

After you finished with Rodrick you moved to your own hair. Your fingers ran through your tangled locs massaging away the oil and grime from your scalp. 

Rodrick watched as you washed your own hair, the water sliding down your smooth skin. He couldn’t help but stare at your glistening skin. You were so beautiful, so pure and here you were taking care of a mess like him. His hands stayed reverent on your hips, his thumbs drawing small circles on your wet skin. He felt domestic, strangely content. Without thinking he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone. 

A small giggle escaped your lips at Rodrick’s sudden show of affection. 

He felt his cheeks heat up slightly at your laugh, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he pressed another kiss to your collarbone, then another trailing kisses up your neck. He was acting on pure instinct and need. Slowly his lips met your jaw before finding your lips in a tender kiss. He pulled back for a moment, his nose brushing against yours. The warm water was still pounding down against your skin, the steam still swirling around you. Neither of you spoke, instead you savoured the moment. Your arms wrapped around one another, the kiss deepening slowly. Rodrick’s tongue slipped past your lips, tasting you slowly, thoroughly. A low groan rumbled through his chest, his lips vibrating against your own. Your hips pushed together in a slow sensual grind. The water was beginning to cool but neither of you seemed to notice, your attention too focused on one another to notice anything else. 

“ I need you..”

Rodrick responded with a slow nod as his lips moved against yours. The kiss was messier this time, almost desperate as he pulled you closer. His mouth crashed against yours, his lips seeking yours desperately. Carefully Rodrick guided you to rest against the slick tile wall. His hands slid from your hips down to your thighs before he hoisted you up, guiding your legs to wrap around his hip. The position gave him perfect leverage, his hips slotting perfectly between your thighs. He only broke the kiss to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

He was big, you both knew it but the angle had him hitting deeper than he normally would. Weak cries fell from your lips with each of Rodrick’s thrusts. He pulled back slightly before pushing back in, each of his thrusts were slow and deep, almost reverent. Carefully he adjusted his angle, effortlessly hitting that spot that made your eyes roll. “ Right there? ”

“ Mhm! ”

Your eyes squeezed shut as pathetic whines fell from your lips. Rodrick kept hitting that spot over and over, his rhythm becoming less controlled and more desperate. His forehead fell against yours, his breaths coming out ragged against your lips. With each thrust of his hips another moan tumbled past your lips. Rodrick could feel you squeezing him tighter with each passing moment. He knew you were just as close as he was. Rodrick had never been one to make love, he’d always been too rough, too desperate, but this was something entirely different. He found himself caring for you, paying attention to every reaction you had. He was desperate to make this good for you, as good as you were making this for him. Your body was beginning to tense around Rodrick’s, your thighs squeezing around his hips. 

“ Oh God! ”

The way you moaneed made his hips jerk forward involuntarily hitting that spot even deeper than he thought possible. Rodrick swallowed hard as he watched you lose control, your mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut, your head falling back.

A cry left your lips as your walls shuttered around Rodrick. Your soft cries and moans as you came were the most erotic thing Rodrick had ever heard. His head dropped forward, his face coming to hide against your neck. A loud groan left his lips as he finally lost control too, his body finally shuttering with his own release. 

༶•┈┈ ⛧ ┈ ♛ ┈ ⛧ ┈┈•༶

You hadn't stepped foot into the comic shop since you were in middle school when Cory's dad invited you to the grand opening.

Business seemed to be a little slow today with the few customers roaming around and the unusually clean state of it all.

Hardly two seconds in, you already lost Rowley to the Unicorn Mania aisle in the games section of the store and Greg to God knows where, silently wishing you had tied balloons to these kids.

With Manny in a stroller, you push him over to the counter where Cory was seated with a video game magazine in hand, dressed in the shop's uniform.

The same uniform he voiced his hatred for for years. He wasn't allowed any accessories either. The only personal touch he could add was the red sleeved shirt he wore under the pale blue button up and pale yellow vest.

"So when you guys said I totally got this..." You start.

Cory looks up and rolls his eyes, taking off his headphones and tossing them onto the counter haphazardly. "Look, it's a pain in the ass to get anywhere without Ozzy's car. So I'm doing my part now too"

A girl comes out from the back and scoffs while working the cashier. It's Cory's twin sister, Cecelia, dressed similarly but with purple sleeves instead of red.

There was a box of records in her hands, organising them on the shelf behind Cory.

"That is a bold ass lie. Our dad's making him work 'cus he broke the stereo playing air guitar." She speaks, her voice much more monotone and more of a vocal fry than Cory's.

Cory looked displeased, grumbling a quick, "Fuck off, Cece."

"Haven't seen you here much." Cece brings a Madonna vinyl to the cashier, ringing up a customer, but it was clear she was talking to you.

"I usually just play video games at your guys' house. Don't really need to buy 'em. Much more convenient, no?" You shrug.

"Oh, yeah. It's so much more convenient to have you in our house all the time, playing our games and eating our food instead of supporting our business, Y/N," Cece deadpans and shoves the register shut, moving back to organise the records behind Cory.

“She hates me,” You feign hurt.

"She loves you." Cory glances at her then to you with an eyeroll.

"Flattering. So, where's Twisted Wizard?" You slap your hand against the countertop.

Cory almost glares at you with a raised eyebrow. "So your plan to get money is to... spend money... on a video game?"

You nod with a smile, “And ice cream.”

He sighed. "We have the game but we're only allowed to put it on shelves starting next Tuesday."

You nod and turn around in time to catch Greg looking through some comics. "Ahuh... Hey, Greg! How would you feel to be the first kid in Plainview to own the new Twisted Wizard sequel?"

"No way! Really? You're the best, Y/N!"

You turn back with a raised eyebrow as if to say, “Am I not the best?” to Cory who was already giving you a deadpan look.

"You wanna break that poor little boy's heart?” 

"I hate you.”

"Not as much as you hate Löded Diper. Go on, fetch."

Cory looked annoyed as shit, though was already shoving the magazine under the counter. "You're so lucky I'm into your petty shit,” He grumbled, pushing off the counter and slumping on over to the back door.

“Thank you!”

Manny seemed preoccupied with his little blanket, the only sound in the room along with the distant voices of the kids you were watching over and the soft pop song playing from Cory's headphones on the countertop.

Your eyes drifted to the neon green carton to the side of the cashier with GHASTLY GOO SOUR BLAST in disgusting green font printed on the front… But the ghoul-shaped sour pop rocks lollipops were tempting…

Maybe you'll come back someday and get those for a prank.

“I heard you got beef with Rodrick Heffley,” Cece, who had finished stacking the records, moves to the computer on the other end of the counter, punching in numbers.

“Oh, yeah… Wait, did Cory tell you that or-”

“You think people at school would care if Rodrick Heffley of all people had drama?” Cece deadpanned.

“I guess that's fair. I didn't even know him before he started this whole mess,” 

“Oh, he started it?” She raised an eyebrow. You nod, causing her to tilt her head, clearly trying to figure you out with her stare. “So why are you retaliating big time?” 

You shrugged. “It's funny.”

There's about a minute of silence between you as Cece stares you down before she shrugs herself and goes back to work. “Guess he deserves it for being a moron who can't even spell his own name.” 

You chuckle, surprised by how blunt that was. “Wow, you're evil.”

“Am I wrong?” 

You don't get a chance to respond when Cory pushes through the backdoor, holding the sealed purple cartridge case. "If my dad finds out about this, he's going to kill me,” he says, holding it out to you.

"Yeah, yeah." As you reach for the game, Cory grips it tighter, looking you dead in the eyes. "I mean it. This kid better not brag about this game to his friends."

You sigh, waving him off and yanking the game out of his grasp. "Relax, Cory, I'm not gonna let you get murdered by your own father."

"If he does, don't let Ozzy anywhere near my ATLs or I will haunt your ass,” Cory pats the counter, flipping through his notepad.

You nod, slipping the game into the pocket at the back of Manny's stroller "Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure Penny gets them even though I've repeatedly told you to just give them to her yourself.” 

Cory scoffs as if you had just said the most outrageous thing in the world. "Hell no. She'll think I'm some creep for knowing what her favourite band is."

“I think it's even creepier when a boy you barely know has your name in his will under ‘All Time Low Records.’” 

“For once, I agree with Y/N. You're pathetic,” Cece finally finishes up punching stuff into the computer and storms off into the back.

“Yeah? Well the men you like always turn out to be gay!” Cory called out.

“Not all of them!”

“She has it out for Frankie,” Cory turned to you to clarify as if you needed or even wanted context to that insult.

But that does genuinely surprise you. “I'm like 96% sure Frankie is also not into girls.”

“Oh. I am too, and it's so much funnier that she doesn't know that." Cory scoffed, flipping through a log book he grabbed from under the counter.

"You're both evil…"

"Right back at ya." He finally stops at a page and taps at a bit of scribble. "62.30"

You’re baffled. “62?!”

“30,” Cory nodded.

It takes you a second to process that, pulling out your wallet and pulling out the money. “Jesus Christ. This game better be worth the month's worth of lunches I'm about to skip.” 

As Cory does the change manually without the help of the register, you stuff your wallet back into your pocket, suddenly hyper aware that you were near broke.

You put your fingers to your lips and whistle toward the aisles. “Let's go!” 

Rowley and Greg come running over, holding the prop gun blasters from the Supreme Intergalactica display. “Did you get it?”

“Yep.”

“Awesome!” They put the guns down on top of a random stack of boxes nearby.

You grab the handles of the stroller and push Manny out the door with the boys in tow. “Bye, Cory.”

“Yeah cool- Wait, don't forget practice on Fridaaaayy-...”

But the door already shuts behind you.

 “I am so gonna kill her.”

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

"Rodrick is so gonna kill you," Greg giggles as he stuffs his face with ice cream.

Rowley and Manny were in the back, checking out the stuff you had just bought for them.

"He's already trying to, what's one more reason?" You tease, nudging Greg with your elbow before indulging in your own cone of soft serve.

You were currently parked down the road, blasting whatever mixtape was in the stereo with the AC on high, enjoying highly drippy ice cream with a ticking time bomb in a diaper in the backseat.

Everything Rodrick would hate to have in his van.

The keys of which you yoinked from his nightstand while he was out cold thanks to Greg's tip that Rodrick wouldn't wake up for shit.

“So why do you hate Rodrick? I mean besides obvious reasons.” Greg asks.

“He fucked up my friend's car,” You answer instinctively, instantly cringing at that.

“Woah.” 

“Sorry.”

“No, that was badass.”

“Hey-” 

“You started it.”

“Five dollars to not tell your mom this conversation happened.” You point at his face with your cone in a lighthearted threat kind of way.

Greg let out a chuckle. “Deal.” 

“Deal.”

“So how did he do it?” He asked.

“Slashed the tires and spray painted the windshield. It was rough to scrub the paint off, but the real issue is how much it'll cost to get those wheels replaced.”

“You should make him pay.”

“Oh, we are. By putting me in this job so I'm around him almost all the time… And he hates that.” 

Greg laughed. “I can totally help you. I'm kind of an expert in annoying my older brother.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You bite the cone, accidentally letting the ice cream drip onto the leather seat between your thighs. “Oops,” You say with zero remorse in your tone.

“Yeah!” He giggles. “Actually, there is something I could use your help with.”

“Hit me.”

“Well… He sort of made me…” He trailed off, voice growing quieter when he continued. “Pee… on him.” 

What…?

“No fucking way…” A smile starts to form on your face.

The lack of response from the boy makes you realise he’s not joking.

You choked, ice cream splattering on the steering wheel, coughing from the sudden laughter that escaped you.

“Y/N” He whined. “Please, don’t laugh!”

You shake your head, struggling to wipe off the clear humour on your face. “I’m not- I’m not laughing, I swear…” You manage to drop the smile for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

“I'm serious! He said he was gonna kill me then trapped me in my room until I couldn't hold it in anymore!”

“So you peed on him?!” You have never smiled so hard at anything before.

“No! Not on purpose!” 

“What did you even do?” 

“I- I was in his room-”

“But only to show me Rodrick's middle school year book!” Rowley cut in, peeking through from between our seats.

You try to hold off the giggles, the boy next to you reeling in his seat in embarrassment.

“Come on, Y/N…”

“Fine, okay, okay.” You say through giggles. “I'll do something about it.” 

Greg, still embarrassed, seemed somewhat relieved.

“Hey, Y/N?” Rowley chimes in again. “Was middle school ever hard for you?”

“Why? Was your first week really that bad?” You ask, voice softening from the previous teasing tone.

Greg snapped his head toward Rowley as if warning him. “It was great!”

Rowley only glanced at Greg then turned back to you. “We ate lunch behind the garbage cans all week.”

You wince. “Oh yeah, I remember back when me and my friend Frankie were in our first day of fifth grade and sat behind the vending machine in the corner.”

“No way!” Greg seemed pleased by that. You think he’s starting to see you as less of an evil babysitter and more of a cool one which was great for the plan.

“Yes way. We skipped lunch time altogether and snuck snacks into my locker to eat between periods for the next three weeks until we met our other two friends and got to sit at an actual table.”

“So what can we do to get off the floor?” Rowley asked.

“Oh… Well, I never really joined any, but you could always try clubs and after school activities. Stuff like that.” you shrug. “If you’re part of something like the school paper or marching band, it’s almost a guarantee to get a spot at their respective lunch tables… Y’know, if they think you’re cool like that.” “After school activities, huh…?” 

Something about the way Greg said that worried you.