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wheelsupimagine · 1 month

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Meant to be -Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FemReader

Word count: 3.2k words

Warnings: mentions of s3 e16 and s4 e24, angst and fluff

Summary: A case reminded Spencer of his past and you the only friend he had in high school, what if one day you two meet again in DC.

Being a resident genius had its favors, the team bets everything on him and he could always retrieve this but this case was different, it was difficult it got personal.

His edict memory is a blessing but not when a case like this reminded him of his past - Alexa Lisbon.

Then he wished he could forget everything for once in his life, but he will always remember.

When Spencer stepped out of the plane, he felt like he could breathe again, but his mind still raced - this case was an emotional roller coaster for him and the best way for Spencer to calm down was to go to his favorite bookstore.

The moment Spencer stepped into the bookstore he felt relieved, the familiar smell of old books and fresh coffee felt like home and no other person was in sight.

"Hey Spencer though case?!" Miranda the owner of the shop asked.

"Hey Miranda, yeah it was."

"Okay, your coffee will be ready in a bit, the bookstore is almost empty just one more person is here."

Spencer nodded but he was surprised that someone else would be here at this time still Spencer didn’t let himself bother knowing he would probably not even find this person.

Spencer left Miranda and made his way deeper into the bookstore. He was so invested in finding a new book, that he totally forgot about his coffee till he heard his name being called.

"Spencer Reid?" A stranger called his name

He turned his head and then he saw you.

Y/N Y/L/N.

What Spencer didn’t tell Derek was, who got him down from the goalpost back then - it was y/n, after that night you two spent more time together - Spencer could always come to you, and you two never talked about his problems and struggles because when he was with you it didn’t matter, once or twice he talked with you about his mom but mostly he just enjoyed your company and felt like a decent kid with a friend.

When he graduated high school, he never looked back but after 14 years you stand now in front of him right here in this bookstore in DC.

"Miranda asked me if I could bring you your coffee before it gets cold." You said and pointed at his coffee in your hand.

"My god Spencer, I can’t believe it’s you." You continued.

"Thank you y/n." Spencer took the coffee from you.

"It’s been a while, you look good by the way."

Spencer blushed, but he didn’t say anything back.

"Ähm yeah it was nice to see you again, I don’t want to bother much longer." As you attempted to leave, Spencer stopped you.

"Actually I could use some company if you like… Only if you want to obviously, I would understand if you don’t want to…" Spencer

rambled, but you stopped him.

"I would love to keep you company Spencer."

You two sat down and drank your coffee and talked. Spencer found out that you moved here two years ago because you got a job offer at the Walter Reed hospital and nothing held you in Las Vegas. Spencer talked to you about his job in the FBI, you asked him about Diana and it surprised him that you still knew her name, you two had a great time together until you caught Spencer off guard.

"Spencer, how are you really? You have very dark circles under your eyes."

"I…I haven’t slept really, it was this case that reminded me of something in the past." Spencer sighed and didn’t dare to look you in the eyes.

You knew where his mind went, you rubbed Spencer’s arm.

"But look at you now, these High school jerks and Alexa are definitely regretting this now." You looked at your clock.

"Hey Spencer it’s getting late, I have to wake up early and honestly you need some sleep too."

Spencer's mimic changed from happy to sad in one motion.

"Oh, I understand. Yeah yeah, you should leave you need your sleep." Spencer took his distance from you, thinking you wanted to leave because you already had enough of him.

"Spencer hey, if you want we can exchange phone numbers so we could meet again."

Spencer’s lips curved into a smile.

"Yeah, I would like that."You exchanged numbers and you both left the shop together.

Sadly you two had to split ways, Spencer insisted on walking you home but you promised him that it wouldn’t even take 10 minutes till you were home. Spencer started rambling about unsafety and what everything could happen in 10 minutes.

"Wow, now I might think I have to stay with you forever." You joked

but Spencer was stunned and it caused his cheeks to turn slightly pink.

"I just made a joke Dr. Reid, okay. Would you feel better if I wrote you when I made it home save in 10 minutes?" You asked him.

"This would make it slightly better. But.."

"But?" You asked confused.

"You lied," Spencer said.

"What?"

"You first said you would be home in less than 10 minutes now it’s exactly 10 minutes." Spencer smiled and you laughed.

"Come home safe Dr. Reid."You smiled and turned around making your way home.

When Spencer arrived home, he thought about going to bed immediately but you crossed his mind again and when he looked at his phone he saw that you hadn’t wrote him yet. So instead of getting in his pyjamas he sat on his couch and waited for your text.

After 10 minutes and 45 seconds, you texted him letting him know you made it home safe.

Spencer:You are too late.

Y/n:What?!

Spencer:You are exactly 45 seconds too late. Next time I call the FBI.

Y/n:haha. I am so sorry dr Reid, I changed into my pajamas first.

Y/n:You didn’t need to stay awake for me

Spencer:But I wanted to make sure that you save.

Y/n:Thank you Spencer but you also need to sleep.

Spencer:Good night Y/n sleep well.

Y/n:Sleep well genius.

Over the last few months, Spencer and you met at the bookstore when your jobs allowed it. Otherwise, you two stay connected through messages and phone calls. Even the team noticed a shift in Spencer’s mood and as the man Derek is he asks him about it.

"Hey, pretty boy, who’s got you on the phone like this?"

"What do you mean, I use my phone like I always do."

"No boy wonder, for someone who rarely uses his phone in his free time, you are really caught up in it now." Derek laughed.

"Is pretty boy in love?" Derek asked and wiggled with his brows.

"Derek please can you leave it, it’s nothing," Spencer answered and didn’t dare to look Derek in the eyes.

"Okay Spencer, I let it slide for now but just so you know I care about you and if there is someone in your life that makes you happy, I just want to know."

Paperwork days for Spencer were never a problem, he accepted it cause it needed to be done but now with you in his life, he loved paperwork because it meant he wasn’t away on a case and with you having the morning shift, it gave you two the chance to meet up after work and he enjoyed your time together, he feels like he can be like himself with you and he hasn’t laughed so much since he met you.

But your jobs didn't allow this too much, either you had the night shift or Spencer was out of town for a case and he hated this, he hated when you weren’t around, he hated it when you two were in the same city but didn’t get to see each other and even though he loves his job, he couldn’t wait to come home, to see you - he missed you.

Cases also mean for him that he barely has time to call you.

Currently, Spencer has been away for a week already, this case going longer than he thought it would take, Spencer lay on his motel bed and tried to find the breakthrough for the case but nothing came to his mind.

He put the papers aside and looked at the clock, it wasn’t too late in DC yet, and he was unsure if he should call you, it’s nothing you usually do so that Spencer could stay focused on the case but honestly, he needed to hear your voice tonight, so he tried to call you hoping you aren’t already asleep.

"Spencer? Is everything okay?" Your voice sounds raw.

"Hey, yeah everything is okay. Did I wake you up? I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, it was a stupid idea to call you, you obviously slept, and your voice sounds raw. I should-."

"Spencer, breath, everything is fine. I didn’t sleep, I - I just rolled around, I was thinking about you."

Spencer was stunned by your confession, he stayed silent but his heart was beating very fast.

"So yeah, what’s on your mind, Spencer?" You asked breaking the silence.

"We don’t come forward with the case and I...I wanted to hear your voice." Spencer confessed.

"Sometimes it takes more time to find the perpetrator but the only thing that matters is that you will find him. I miss you but please stay safe there."

"I will y/n, I promise."

"Hey, Spencer."

"Yes, y/n."

"Why don’t we meet when you come back, we could order takeout and make a movie marathon at my place nothing fancy." You suggested.

"Yeah, yeah I would like that."

"Good, I will see you soon, good night Spencer."

"Good night y/n."

A few days later the team finally caught the unsub.

As the team flew back to Virginia, Spencer wrote you to let you know that he would land in the late afternoon and asked you if you two wanted to have the movie marathon tonight which you accepted.

Spencer didn’t even realize that he smiled like an idiot until Derek pulled him out of his thoughts.

"You pretty boy what got your smile like that?" Derek asked Spencer.

"Uh n-no-nothing," Spencer said but his cheeks turned 10 times darker every second.

"Sureee Spencer."

Spencer didn’t say anything.

"Hey Spencer," Derek said.

"Yeah."

"It’s good to see you like this," Derek replied. He left Spencer alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t wait to see you tonight.

Spencer arrived at your apartment complex 10 minutes too early, he first waited in his car, drumming his fingers on his bouncing leg, trying to calm himself down but he failed miserably, so he stood in front of your door 7 minutes and 43 seconds too early but it was okay, in that time he tried to get his breath under control.

But before Spencer got his breath under control, you already opened the door.

"Man, I thought you would never knock at my door." You greeted him.

"How-how did you know I stood in front of your door?" Spencer asked.

"I saw you parking your car 5 minutes ago, I waited for you.”

"Oh yeah I didn’t want to be late here but I also didn’t want to be too early, I didn’t know if you were ready yet," Spencer explained.

"It’s okay Spencer but next time just knock you could never be annoying to me, even if you're too early you can sit on my couch like right now."

"I will quickly make the popcorn, you can look for a movie we could watch." You suggested and Spencer sat down and looked for a good movie to watch that you also liked, when you returned with the popcorn and other snacks, you sat down next to him but not too close, Spencer still didn’t decide what to watch.

"I-I don’t know what to watch, movies that I like are mostly not the type from others," Spencer admitted.

"Okay mhm, what do you think of Star Trek?"

"What?!" Spencer was completely shocked.

"Ähm okay was that a bad request?"

"No, no it’s- it’s great actually, I love it, I didn’t think you would like these types of movies," Spencer admitted.

"I am full of surprises Spencer."

So you watched the Star Trek series and after some time you both fell asleep, no one knows who fell asleep first maybe it was you or him but for sure was that you both bumped your heads, after a phone went off - it was Spencer’s.

"I’m sorry, I’ve got a case, is your head okay?"

"Yeah, yeah is there enough time for coffee or do you have to leave immediately?"

"No, it looks really important I have to leave now, but at least the case is here."

"Okay, good luck, be safe."

"I will be." As Spencer was about to leave he turned around once more.

"Hey y/n?"

"Yes, Spencer."

"I had a lot of fun last night."

"Me too, maybe we couldn’t do it again sometime?"

"I would love to, bye y/n."

"See you soon doctor, come home to me in one piece."

Just when the door felt shut, your phone started ringing, it was the hospital.

"Hey, y/n. Is it possible for you to fill in today, maya is sick."

"Yeah sure, I am on my way."

Spencer just visited Abby one of the remaining survivors, in the middle of their conversation Abby got aphasia, which scared Spencer, this stain kills people in a short amount of time and right now he couldn’t do anything.

Then he thought about you, and he had the urge to talk to you, even though he may get in trouble for this he needed to know you were okay.

"Spencer, is everything okay?" You said quite in panic.

"Yeah, yeah sure why wouldn’t it be… I.. I just wanted to hear your voice and I wanted to know if you are okay."

"Everything is okay, besides I have to work today."

"What !! I thought it was your free day?"

"Yeah, change in plans, one of my colleagues is sick and they asked me to fill in, but it’s fine, it’s a quiet day." You lied to Spencer, nothing was quiet on this day.

Hey, Spencer, it looks like I’ve got to go out there again. Look out for yourself and maybe if you’d like we could out soon.. like on a real date, maybe?"

"..I would like it, yeah, that would be great."

"Good, stay safe Spencer. Bye"

"Goodbye, Y/n. Take care of yourself. See you soon."

You both hung up with a smile and at least forgot the scary situation for a few seconds, before you got out again and took care of the anthrax-infected patients.

Spencer and Derek made their way to Nichols a possible suspect in the anthrax case. When they arrived Spencer had cut himself briefly on the thorn bush but it didn't stop him and continued to walk with Derek closer to the house.

Before Morgan and Reid entered Nichols's private lap, Derek got a phone call, Reid made his way into the lab and left Derek behind.

As Derek ended the call, he realized Spencer was not behind him. Derek ran towards the house calling for Reid and just when he arrived at the house, Spencer closed the door from the lab and told Derek he couldn’t get in there just then Derek saw the broken test tube with Anthrax in it.

Spencer was a step closer to death.

You took the mask from your face and took a deep breath and you finally broke down, you started crying, it was too much for you, seeing all those vulnerable people and you can’t do anything to help them, you can only try to make this stay as comfortable as possible.

You knew what this job meant, you can’t save everybody but this is not fair, how can a human being so heartless and let these people perish?

You took another deep breath and then you thought about Spencer, hopefully was okay, far away from this situation but deep down you knew he wasn’t, he is in the FBI of course he is involved but please let him be okay.

You needed to hear Spencer's voice, so you called him.

"Y/n…" Spencer began to cough.

"Spencer.. what's happening. You don’t sound okay."

"Everything is fine." Spencer coughed again.

"Spencer…no matter what is happening…"

"Y/n listen." Spencer cut you off.

"I love you Y/n… everything is gonna be okay but I've got to go now. Then Spencer hung up and you didn’t get to answer him.

You tried it a few more times but he didn’t pick and now it felt like your world broke down, you burst into tears knowing couldn’t do anything.

After Spencer and Dr. Kimura may have found the cure for this anthrax, Spencer finally gets to go out of the lab and go to the shower, but as Spencer untied his tie, Dr. Kimura sees the cut Spencer got from the bush and the situation just got more dangerous, hopefully, the cure was in the inhaler.

When Dr. Kimura came in with a newly infected anthrax patient your heart skipped a beat - it was Spencer.

He was in an awful state and for a moment you didn’t know if he would survive this.

The situation finally got under control with the confirmation from the lab that the cure was in the inhaler, the last survivors and Spencer were able to be cured and now it was a matter of time before Spencer woke up.

When you walked towards Spencer’s room, you saw a man sitting by Spencer and eating his jello that you put on his table, just then Spencer woke up and immediately asked if there would be more jello.

As you arrived at Spencer's room you couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Hey." You've said as if a stone fell from your heart.

"Hi." Said Spencer with a smile on his face.

You both wanted to say so much more but with this muscular man in the room who you didn’t know - there was an awkward silence there.

"Okay, I think it’s my time to leave. Have fun lover boy." The man said and left you too alone.

"You’ve scared me, Spencer." You sat down on the bed and took his hand in yours.

"I didn’t mean to do this and I am sorry for what I said, I would understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I mean with what I said I took this.." Spencer rambled.

"I love you too Spencer."

"WHAT?! Really?"

"Yes Spencer, of course I do, I've loved you since we first met back in Las Vegas."

Spencer cupped with both hands your face and you leaned in and then you two kissed for the first time.

"So you still want to go out with me?" You asked.

"Of course Y/n." You both hugged and Spencer's face was crooked in your neck.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Spencer."

"Before we go out on the date, can I have some of this jello?" Spencer asked shyly but you just started laughing.

"Of course, my love, you can have as much jello as you want."

Man - when I wrote this it felt from length okay but now I feel like it’s a little rushed maybe you could give me feedback if I should get more in detail with the story and the conversations.

I am still very new to writing and it feels super though to write Spencer so that he still has his character traits and doesn’t sound like a totally different Spencer.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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babydollfoster · 10 months

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First Date with Team Free Will

a/n: i honest to god don’t think i’ve posted a fic on here despite how much i talk about it >_<!! so here’s somethin i threw together in the span of a couple of hours because i’m on a rewatch and i’m halfway thru s4 and i LOVE the boys:( so here! proof i can write, not just talk about it! also afaik you can read this as any gender :) fem, masc, neither, both… don’t think there’s any defining qualities. much love!

pairings: sam winchester/reader, dean winchester/reader, castiel/reader

warnings: fluff, implied sexual content (w/ dean)

SAM

he’s SUCH a romantic. god, look at him, just- when he asked you, so sweet ‘nd kind, if he could take you out some night, how could you say no? dean gives his blessing by handing over the impala’s keys the next day and you and sam end up at a secondhand bookstore. you judge books by their covers and eventually settle on swapping something you enjoyed for the other’s; sam slips you a book called their eyes were watching god (“don’t- don’t give me that look. the title isn’t ‘cringe’! it’s beautiful. i promise you’ll enjoy it.”) and you hand rebecca over with a beaming grin, which falls into a look of surprise when you learn he hasn’t read it (“it’s a classic! how- okay, it’s a slow start, but you’ll love it.”) you grab takeout (your pick, sam insisted) and end up at a park, rolling a dusty picnic blanket out from the depths of the trunk and sitting under a tree, swapping quips and comments every once in a while. eventually, you end up with your head in sam’s lap and his hand in your hair, neither of you paying attention to your books no more, no, now you’re just… talking. it’s domestic and loving and romantic so you sit up, weasel your way into sammy’s lap and kiss him so delicately and he does the same back until you’re both almost devouring each other, literally stealing the other’s breath until you pull away, panting and giggling until sam whispers, “can we do this again?” and you whisper “every single day, sam.”

DEAN — MDNI, 16+

he sticks to the classics. he takes you out for dinner at the nearest diner and a midnight showing of whatever horror movie is out right now. you share a bucket of popcorn as you’re snuggled in the back right corner, cackling at cheesy jumpscares (“oh, i’m sooo scared.” “shut up, dee!”) and dry fake screams before you stumble back into baby after having smuggled in a flask of whiskey and collapse into the front bench, still too buzzed to drive, and kiss each other until your heads spin and the stars blur into one. eventually you pull away long enough for dean to drive you to the motel and you collapse into bed together; nothing happens, no, not on his first date with you. he wants to treat you right, sweetheart, but you’re both stripped down to your underwear nonetheless and hold each other close like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. the next morning, on the other hand, once the headache has set in and you’re oh so beautiful in the morning light, dean settles himself between your legs and noses your thighs apart. who are you to say no when dean’s right there and ready, huh?

CASTIEL

cas hasn’t ‘dated’, not on earth, certainly not in heaven, but he rifled through his host’s distant memories and took some inspiration from when jimmy courted amelia. so when cas slips his hands into yours one darkened evening, standing on the sidewalk in light rain, and asks if he ‘could take you out sometime’, you smirk and say, “how’d you learn that one?” but you agree nonetheless, and let the angel take the reigns. he whisks you away, dropping a message to sam and dean that you’re both in california and will be for the next three days and not to worry, he’ll bring you back unharmed (the boys freak, but you both ignore their calls). he takes you window-shopping, you eat at famous spots in LA and spend a little too much money, you sit atop the hollywood sign and learn the constellations, you teach cas how to have fun late one night at the beach and when you’re both breathless, backs covered in sand as you stare up at the heavens, he turns his head to you and asks, “may i kiss you?” and you whisper, “i thought you’d never ask.” and sure, he’s a little clueless, but he’s confident in how he has the rest of forever to learn how to please you, the way a human would.

taglist: no one yet! ask away :)

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blacksailskmeme · 12 days

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Black Sails Kink Meme 2024 Round Up: March

Hello piratefam!

We've had an exceptionally prolific kickoff month for the event: over 100 prompts and twelve delicious fills already for March!! Wow!! :D :D Thank you all so very much for diving into the splash zone of raunchy smut with such enthusiasm!

I've decided to do a round up post for each month the kink meme is live, showcasing those fills submitted to the collection monthly. So here ya go, all the fics submitted in March gathered in one place for your convenience and enjoyment! 😌✨

In The Space Between, SilverFlintHam, 2470 words

(For Prompt #13. "Thomas and Flint spitroast Silver. Modern AU. Bonus points for Silver begging like a cheap whore and Thomas being the practical one after, while Flint just wants to cuddle in his papa-bear, protective mode.")

And I could close the curtain but this is too much fun, MadiSilverFlint, 1260 words

(For prompt #37 - Flint/Madi, Silver - voyeurism, jealousy. Silver catches them fucking)

shifting sands, Maxanor, 1812 words

(For Prompt 29: s3/4 or therebouts, Eleanor goes on her knees for Max and eats her out in That Fucking Chair)

Of Poets and Writers, SilverFlint, 8758 words

(For prompt #31. SilverFlint mod AU. Silver is a poet, shopping at a bookstore and overhears a book reading/author signing. He’s drawn in by THE VOICE and heads over to the event only to be instantly in lust with Flint, reading from his debut novel. He listens, then grabs a copy of Flint’s book and one of his own poetry collections off the shelf and purchases them, borrowing a pen from the bookseller. He hops in line for the signing and while he waits, he writes something extremely filthy on the dedication page of his collection, complete with his phone number. He exchanges books with Flint, who looks bemused, but doesn’t read the inscription immediately. He HAD, however, noticed the gorgeous man in the back of the small crowd with the pre-Raphaelite curls and Caribbean blue eyes. He signs Silver’s copy and thanks him for coming. Silver watches him for a few more minutes and then grabs a coffee before heading for the door. Before he reaches it, he gets a text from Flint, who’s finally opened the volume of poetry. They head to Flint’s hotel and he proceeds to just absolutely take Silver apart and then surprising Silver by bottoming. Rimming, topping from the bottom, dirty talk, just very vocal enjoyment from two men incredibly good with words.)

When I said I'll return to you, I meant more like a relapse, Maxanor, 3023 words

(For prompt #22: Maxanor, post break up, nasty hatefuck with your ex over That Fucking Chair. Bonus if s3 or s4, extra bonus if there's a strap and Max makes Eleanor beg for it bent over the desk, extra extra bonus if Eleanor cries)

Indulgence, SilverFlint, 2306 words

(Prompt #20: Silver, canon era, being completely HOT about Flint's belly (circa season 4) when they're alone. Hotness ensues (kissing, licking, sucking, slobbering, coming all over it, completely unhinged LUST). Bonus points if Filnt's a bit shy about it)

Pressure, SilverFlint, 4504 words

(prompt # 57: Silverflint, piss kink/omorashi - Flint REALLY needs to piss during a long ass meeting, Silver notices, stays behind after everyone else finally leaves and drags it out as long as he can by asking nonsensical questions. Eventually Flint is pushed to breaking point and Silver takes over 😈 bonus points for imagery of Flint standing white knuckled gripping the back of his chair, (unsuccessfully) trying to hide his discomfort from Silver 😌)

Relief, SilverFlint, 4708 words

Breaking The Girl (heart of stone, mind of gold, your tongue is made of sword), Flint/Eleanor, 10,723 words

(For PROMPT #61: Pre canon, a younger Eleanor has a crush on the New Captain on the Block (Flint) who appears as if by magic to fill the power vacuum left by Captain Teach after she and Vane oust him. Eleanor's relationship with Vane is on the rocks not too long after as she continues to nurse her secret illicit infatuation for Captain Flint, who she champions on the island to help him consolidate power. She flirts drunkenly with Flint, until one night she just throws herself at him. He's trying to be so gracious, the crush is very one-sided, but he tries to help her through it sweetly, but she's not having it. She wants it rough and dirty.

I wanna see Weird Dynamics, part mentor-mentee part father-daughter part daddy kink part huge crush on a professor vibes. I want Flint to keep trying to slow her down and be sweet and Eleanor fighting him the whole way. Toxic weirdness and big age difference, thank you very much!!)

New Horizons In The Dark, Flint/Maroon Queen, 4405 words

(For prompt #58: S3 or S4, Flint trying to jerk off in his appointed quarters on Maroon Island and the Queen walks in on him unannounced to summon him to a meeting, he is MORTIFIED, but then she stands there and orders him to continue as she watches

And she says he better do a good job so that he can actually pay attention to their strategy meeting

So basically the Queen orders him to come hard

And she'll scold him for being distracted and that he needs to take care of himself more often, and that if he has trouble or waits too long her door is always open 👀👀👀

Bonus if somewhere in here, maybe after, they talk about/bond over having both lost spouses and that it's a lonely life and there's no sense in being so lonely)

To Be Underestimated is an Incredible Gift, Miranda/Rackham, 4655 words

(For the prompt #78: Miranda Barlow/Jack Rackham, yep, that's the main pairing. pre-canon era, Miranda lives AU, who knows? your choice! you can bring Anne in, and/or Flint, if you want. bonus points for kinkiness.)

As a Boy, Admiral Hennessey/James McGraw, 5126 words

(For prompt #24: Pre-canon, midshipman James McGraw is caned/flogged as a disciplinary measure by his superiors and enjoys it. Bonus if he's A Lot Younger. Could be Admiral Hennessy, could be unnamed rando)

Thanks again to all our March contributors, y'all have truly knocked it out of the park!! Here's to more unapologetically smutty, kinky fills for April 🥳🥳

#2024bskmemefills #2024bskmeme #black sails #black sails event #announcements #long post #2024bskmemeroundups

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cherry-bomb-ships · 3 months

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Earthly Encounter

Pairing: Q x Counselor Ruby (s/i)

Word Count: 2,797

Warnings: Very light spoilers for Star Trek: TNG S4 E20, none otherwise

AO3 Link

Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? It feels very nice to be posting a fic again, to be honest. This is just a cute fluffy story that I started like 3 years ago and abandoned because I didn't like the way it came out. I came back to it recently and kinda wondered what the heck I was thinking. Maybe my self esteem is just better! Either way, this was very fun and very cute to write and to perfect, and I hope you guys enjoy it.

Tag list below the cut. Click here or DM me to be added or removed. Reblogs are all seen and very appreciated!! ❤️

@ava-ships, @bee-ships, @beetleboyfriend, @canongf, @clawfull, @cloudyvoid, @discountwives, @dissonantyote, @edencantstopfallininlove, @final-catboy, @gible-love-nibles, @halsdaisy, @hoppinkiss, @hotrodharts, @hyperionshipping, @iyamifucker, @lex-n-weegie, @little-miss-selfships, @little-shiny-sharpies, @loogi-selfships, @lovebugexe, @mintpecks, @mrs-kelly, @nameless-self-ships, @nerdstreak, @paper-carnation, @patches-and-her-selfships, @reds-self-ships, @rexscanonwife, @ship-trek, @spacestationstorybook, @squips-ship, @tiny-cloud-of-flowers, @toogayforthistoday, @p-i-t-s, @winterworlds, @scroldie

Speckles of dust danced in the beams of light shining through the window of the bookstore that Counselor Ruby Ramirez had found herself in on that peaceful afternoon. She fondly ran her fingers across the spines of the books atop the store’s shelf, remembering all of the journeys she’d been on with those stories as a child. It was no wonder this section was labeled as “classics;” even though the shelf stretched to the ceiling and was filled to the brim with books, she hadn’t seen a single title that she didn’t recognize. She spotted a favorite novel of hers, and she was quick to pull it off the shelf and flip to the first chapter. She remembered it all so fondly: the prison and the rose bush, the first piece of literary symbolism that had truly taught her to analyze…

“Oh, what have you got there? Something actually worthwhile, I hope.” The sudden voice in her ear made Ruby snap out of focus with a startled jolt, but even as she whipped her head around to look behind her, she already knew exactly whose smug face she was going to see staring down at her.

“Q! I’ve told you a hundred times not to sneak up on me like that,” Ruby exclaimed as she playfully tapped his chest with the book.

“Hmph, you've hardly said that more than fifty times, actually," Q said with an exasperated eye-roll. "Besides, you can't really call it 'sneaking up' if I’ve been standing right beside you this entire time, my dear.”

Ruby let out a sigh and turned her back to her partner, putting her attention on the book she'd picked out as she leaned her weight back against him. “Well, then, that’s a problem, isn't it? The point of coming here was so you could explore some of the culture that humanity has to offer,” she explained, gesturing to the shelves of books surrounding them. “That meant exploring the selection here by yourself, sweetheart, not just staying glued to me the whole time.”

Q knew this already, of course; this was the second of a four-day vacation that the couple had agreed on taking together, albeit one more reluctantly than the other. He still remembered when Ruby excitedly came up with the idea months ago, the way she had been beaming about how much she could show Q about what it's like to be human. Although he had protested to the trip's merit, the reality was that Q would have taken any excuse to be with his beloved in a way that wasn't disturbing her duties, so he hadn't needed too much persuading.

When Ruby had brought the request for shore leave to Captain Picard, she had described it as "less of a vacation, and more of an experiment.” She had explained, “We've seen already that Q has a sliver of humanity, a seed of compassion nestled deep within him. Perhaps all that it needs to blossom is the right kind of earth?"

While the captain didn't quite agree with the scientific basis of the proposal - or appreciate the wordplay - the Enterprise would already be making a rare orbit of Earth for a routine crew exchange. Many aboard the Enterprise would be taking a few days to visit their families, so there was no reason to deny the counselor the same privilege.

Back in the bookstore, Q was still doing his best to convince Ruby that their time would be better spent, well, anywhere. He placed both his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady against him as he dramatically nuzzled his face into her hair. “But darling, you’re the only thing worth any of my attention on this entire dreadful planet,” he whined.

He suddenly dipped her backwards, making Ruby balance on her heels as he leaned down a great deal to place his face right next to her own and speak in a provocative whisper, “What do you say we just forget about all this and head back home now instead? I'll even indulge you with that ‘cuddling’ nonsense that you enjoy so very much.”

Ruby could already feel her cheeks getting warmer as she failed to fight back a flustered grin; even after all the time she’d been with Q, she had to admit that she was far from being immune to his charms. It wasn’t only what he was saying, but also the eloquent cadences of his voice and the way he was able to stare her down with that alluring gaze that made her fall so hard for him in the first place. Luckily, by now she was at least able to save his suggestion for later rather than give in right away, and she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before replying with a simple, “Very tempting, but no.”

She chose to ignore the way Q rolled his eyes in annoyance for a second time as he pushed her forward again to stand up straight, and instead she showed him the cover of the book in her hands in an attempt to catch his interest. He glanced over the title: The Scarlet Letter. "Look at this, hunny," Ruby said with fondness in her tone, "this was one of the first books I read as a child that sparked my analytical side. I remember the way it made me think about why the author chose to include certain details that might seem pointless, and why the characters would make the choices that they do." She turned her head back up to him and nudged her shoulder against his chest. "It was also the first book that really invested me in romance," she purred with a wink.

Q was not impressed. "It really does sound like a joy, starlight," he huffed sarcastically, "but you have no idea how difficult it is for an omnipotent being like myself to force his imagination to be confined to words on a page."

Ruby had already turned her attention back to the novel at hand. She knew that Q was fond of the sound of his own voice, so allowing him to rant on about the pettiest of inconveniences was the only way he ever felt better about the situation he was in.

Unaware - or just uncaring - that Ruby had turned her attention away, he continued, "Truly, think about it from my perspective. Why would I bother to 'visualize' the events of a novel in my mind, like you lesser beings have to do, when I could simply rewrite reality to bring these events to life? Or better yet, I could probably imagine my own story with a more gripping narrative and satisfying conclusion. In fact, if I may speak honestly, it seems to me that-"

Q's holier-than-thou speech was cut short as he felt a gentle tug on the leg of his trousers, just below the knee. He looked down to see a small child, a boy likely no older than five, staring back up at him with wide hazel eyes. Q grimaced and immediately recoiled his leg, the sudden shift in weight catching Ruby's attention as well. For a moment, there was an intense staredown between the disgusted immortal and the innocent toddler, until at last Q broke the silence and sneered, "Can I help you?"

The child pointed to the top shelf high above his own head. "Can yew get the Robin Hood book for me, mister?" he said politely, a slight lisp to his words as he spoke.

"If I do, will you leave?" Q asked bitterly. The boy's only reply was a thoughtful stare to the side, followed by a smile and enthusiastic nod of his head.

Q hastily located the book on the shelf of the bookcase in front of him, and he didn't hesitate to yank it from the shelving, pinching the very corner of the book between two fingers as he dangled it over the child's head with an outstretched arm, trying to distance himself from the boy as much as possible. "There you are, now please, begone with you."

The boy reached up and took the book into his small hands with a quiet "thank you" as he marveled at the green hardcover and golden cursive lettering. He then looked back up at Q, who had already turned his attention away, hoping for the interaction to be over.

Despite those hopes, the boy suddenly spoke up again. "I like Robin Hood," he lisped.

Q glanced back down with an eyebrow quirked, not even bothering to turn his head as he dryly replied, "Yes, I'm sure you do. Now don't you have somewhere to be?"

The boy shook his head with the same earnest smile on his face, clearly not taking the hint. Before the conversation could continue, though, Ruby - who had been watching this interaction unfold and barely stifling a laugh - stepped forward in front of Q and kneeled down to meet the child's eye level. "You're a fan of Robin Hood, you said?" She asked him with a gentle smile.

The boy gave her another enthusiastic nod and said, “Yeah, my dad tells me the story a lot for bedtime, but he has to go away on a starship, so my mommy said I should read the or… the orange-inal book while he's gone.”

Ruby smiled at his story and adorable mispronunciation. “That's a very good choice. You know, young man,” she said as she reached up behind her to hold onto Q's hand, “my partner Q here is a big fan of Robin Hood too. One time not too long ago, he even made all his friends dress up to act out the story!"

The boy's eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked back up at Q. "Wow, really? Did yew get to be Robin Hood, mister?"

Ruby smiled widely, both because of the boy's reaction and because behind her, she could hear Q faintly saying, "Starlight, what do you think you're doing?" as he recoiled his hand from hers.

But his Starlight wasn't listening; her mischievous side had quickly taken over, and she placed both hands back on her knees as she said with her bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout, "Actually, Q decided to be the big bad Sheriff of Nottingham that taxes all the poor people and makes everyone sad.

"But… that's the guy who Robin Hood fights with," the boy said, staring up at Q curiously. "Why did you wanna be the bad guy, mister Q?"

Ruby turned her head around to meet her partner's eyes. "Yes, why did you want to be the bad guy, Mr. Q?" she parroted the question to him with a cheeky smile.

If all-powerful beings could blush, Q would have been bright red. "Very amusing, Counselor," he huffed, crossing his arms, "but I'm above engaging with this little mindgame of yours. Especially not with this," he gave the small boy a stern glare, "… creature involved."

The boy let out a giggle, making Q arch his eyebrows in shock. It has the audacity to laugh at me?, the immortal brooded in his expansive mind. What could it possibly find so amusing?

"Yew talk funny, mister Q," the child laughed. "I think yew'd be a really funny bad guy."

Ruby chuckled along with him. "Oh, you have no idea, young man."

From around the corner, a soft voice was heard calling out. "Lance? Did you find the book you wanted?" A woman not much older than Ruby stepped forward from behind another aisle of books, and the boy ran to her with his selection brandished above his head.

"Yes, momma! I picked out this Robin Hood book! Mister Q here got it off the shelf for me."

The mother reached down to pick up her child. "Not even gone five minutes and you're already making new friends?"

Q sneered under his breath, "Not quite the word I would use, but-" "That's right!" Ruby addressed the mother, thankful that she hadn't overheard Q's snide remarks. "He's a very sweet boy, he told us all about how he's a big fan of Robin Hood."

"Yep!" The boy beamed proudly. "And, and she said that her partner mister Q played Robin Hood with his friends and, uh, he got to be the Sheriff of Naughty-ham."

"That's Notting-ham," Q enunciated spitefully as he gleaned down at the child. Even if he desperately wanted the interaction to be over, he still would never miss an opportunity to be right about something.

Ruby paid him no mind, in the hopes that the woman would do the same, as she gave both the mother and child a kind grin. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Lance. I hope you enjoy your book." She took on a tone akin to an ancient English knight as she thumped her a closed hand to her chest theatrically. "Never stop protecting those who can't protect themselves, and fight for justice and truth, just like your Robin Hood."

And unlike Q, she had wanted to say, but she decided that Q had had enough teasing for one day.

Little Lance beamed proudly and copied her motion as he put his own small fist over his chest, clearly taking the words to heart. His mom wore a similar warm grin as she and her son bade the couple farewell and headed toward the checkout counter.

Ruby turned back around to face Q, grinning cheekily up at him as he firmly kept his arms crossed and refused to meet her eye. "That was absolute torture," he groaned, "you know that, right? I'm not sure why I ever agreed to this trip." His partner let out a small laugh at how easy his disposition was to sour, and upon hearing that delightful little giggle of hers that he so dearly adored, he couldn't stop a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked back down at her.

She chirped, "I'm sorry, my darling, but you know I can't resist teasing you.” A smirk overtook her face. “Besides, I believe I remember someone very intelligent once saying that one creature's torment is another's delight."

Q's eyebrows shot up in surprise before lowering in satisfaction, a grin snaking its way across his face as he pulled Ruby in close by her hips. If he had to make a list of all of his favorite things about her, the way that she was able to match his wit so effortlessly would easily clear the top three. Q was more than used to looking down on mortals, feeling superior to them, and he was somewhat justified in feeling so; even when encountering creatures cognitive enough to communicate, it was hardly ever that he came across one that didn't immediately bore him. Even with humans, as fascinating as the species itself was, the individuals were hardly worth stopping for. But there were always exceptions, and no exception has seized his attention, gained his respect, and retained his adoration more wholly than his Ruby.

Indifferent to who around may be watching, Q leaned forward and pressed his lips to Ruby's, allowing her to reach up and hold his face as he kissed her slowly and deliberately.

He just barely pulled away to groan against her lips, "I hope you appreciate my generous patience with you in situations like this." Ruby felt a shudder go through her body; as much as she saw and treated Q as an equal, she couldn't deny that, on occasion, she was exhilarated by the power he always had the capability of holding over her. She brushed any growing stimulation aside as she slyly retorted, "Only if you can appreciate me holding back in situations like this."

That comment earned her another kiss, this one much more brief but still holding just as much admiration, before Q stood up fully again. “Well then,” he sighed, “are we done here?”

Ruby chuckled. “Okay, you’ve been very good today. I’ll check out this book, and we can head back home.”

Q watched his partner as she headed toward the counter, an odd - but not unfamiliar - feeling washing over him as he replayed her words in his mind. He’d been very good today. It was still strange to him that such words of affirmation had any effect on him, even if. He’d never needed anyone else’s approval, or encouragement, or affection before meeting Ruby. He still didn’t need it, he supposed; he already knew that he was the most intelligent and powerful being in the universe. But something about hearing those things from her, the confirmation that there was one person who genuinely thought good of him, cared for him, loved him…

It was quite a wonderful feeling.

#ruby's writing #💜: let me bring you down to earth #self shipping #oc x canon #self ship fic #self ship community #i hope you guys enjoy this this has been in my docs for almost 3 years 💀💀💀#im very tired but very happy to be posting it so here you go. goo bye

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orchidsncrake · 1 month

Text

and watch them fall

pairing: joe goldberg/rhys montrose

rating: explicit

tags: au - canon divergence, s4 rewrite, obsession, strangers to lovers, POV Joe Goldberg, murder, bookstore owner Joe Goldberg, Rhys Montrose is a real person, developing relationship, slow build, eventual relationship, eventual smut, tags to be updated

word count: 3,512

chapter 2/?

ao3

A mugging. First, it was a mugging, and now, it was a jealous stalker. Only Malcolm Harding could afford to die twice. Joe squints at the TV critically, eyes trying to bore through the little screen tucked into the corner of the bookstore. The few customers mill about its cramped floor, fingers drifting over books they won’t buy, reading summaries and feigning interest. An older woman – she must be in her 70s – comes up to the counter and sets a cookbook down, then follows Joe’s gaze to the television.

“Could you turn it up, dear?” Joe nods and grabs the remote from beside the register, cranking the volume. The posh English accents bark into the small building, demanding attention.

" ...Police have arrested Maddie Key for the murder of Malcolm Harding, whose body was found in his flat in London on Tuesday. Law enforcement says Key has supplied a confession, claiming that she did not intend to kill Harding, but when he rejected her romantic advances, she flew into a rage. Law enforcement is seeking charges of stalking and murder, but Key’s lawyers are alleged to be pursuing voluntary manslaughter on grounds of insanity. The autopsy puts his time of death sometime late Monday. This story will be updated as law enforcement… ”

The old woman scoffs, and Joe returns the volume to a low murmur as Maddie Key’s mugshots flash across the screen. She shakes her head and faces Joe as he rings up her book. “Who goes and kills someone they love? Doesn’t make any good sense to me.”

I do. “No sense at all, ma’am.”

She nods curtly, makes a chuffing sound, and signs the receipt messily. She tucks the cookbook under her arm and looks at the TV on her way out. “Bloody psychos.” The bell chimes, and the woman is gone. Joe signs, fixing his hair momentarily before sliding out from behind the counter. The landline suddenly rings behind him, and he starts, clipping his hip into the counter’s edge in his haste to get to the phone. He hisses a swear, pressing his lips together in annoyance, and picks up.

“Subtexts, this is John speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, lovely. May I speak to the owner?” A feminine voice chimes loudly, making Joe recoil for a moment. He clears his voice and straightens his posture uselessly.

“Speaking.”

“Perfect!” She bubbles. “My name is Irene Crosby. I’m the PR representative for Mr. Rhys Montrose, I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” She pauses, expecting some sort of fawning and only getting shocked silence. “Well, Mr. Montrose is set to go on a second tour for his memoir since the first was such a hit, and I’m looking to connect a bit more with the common people of London for this one.” Real nice, lady. “And Mr. Montrose visited your bookstore a couple days ago and raved about how… quaint it was! Now, I’d like to offer you the honor of hosting a meet-and-greet for London’s next mayor in your very own bookstore!”

Joe stares at the phone. This woman works for Rhys fucking Montrose. The man he assumed he’d never see again because, hello, why would he? He’s tempted to say no just because of her pretentious attitude or maybe go full American and hang up without another word, but he doesn’t. In his hand sits his connection to Rhys. Rhys wants to visit him. Or his bookstore, at the very least, which is still something. Still – would it be beyond stupid to accept and welcome him back here? What if he makes a fool of himself? Would it be even worse to decline? He doesn’t even want to imagine the impression that would give, especially if Rhys runs and gets elected. Then he’s just the guy who told the mayor to fuck off and hold his meeting elsewhere. He clears his throat and pinches the bridge of his nose, forcing his foot to stop tapping.

“When would this be?” He asks, trying to sound more rational than he feels.

“Oh, well, let’s see. It’s the 24th, and the tour is going until the 15th of next month… so, how about Saturday?”

Joe pulls the phone away from his ear to stare judgmentally. He smiles apologetically at a customer when they give him a look. “As in this Saturday?” “Yes, this Saturday. How does that sound?”

“Impromptu,” he blurts. The line goes silent for a long moment.

“Yes, well, you see,” Irene starts nervously. “Oh, alright. Mr. Montrose’s second tour has already commenced, and he wants to add your bookstore as a last-minute venue. This of it as an encore. He said the atmosphere would be charming for a smaller event, as he quickly tires of the extravagant panels.” She pauses for a moment. “So, what do you think?”

He should decline. Hosting a last-minute PR event for one of London's most famous men is a bad idea from every technical standpoint he can imagine. The store is too small, and there isn’t any seating other than some library-style tables and chairs in the back. Never mind the fact that Rhys is, all things considered, a complete stranger. Who sics their PR manager on a bookstore clerk they met once a couple of days ago? Crazy people, that’s who.

Still, is it not flattering to have made a good enough impression to get this opportunity? It’s a compliment, really, and a huge one at that. It’d be rude to decline. If it goes well, he may even be able to buy some armchairs for the store through publicity and increased sales. It’s practical. “What do I need to do to prepare?” Lunatic.

“Oh, wonderful, Joe!” He cringes at the name but quickly reasons it as a misstep on Irene’s part. No deeper meaning, just a reckless disregard for the most basic information about a person she called. Next, he’ll probably be Jim. “I’ll send over a folder. What’s your email?” He rattles off the handle to her, listening to the smashing of keys in the background. One loud click and the noise stops. “Perfect! Please contact me if you have any questions. Mr. Montrose will be thrilled!” Joe opens his mouth to wish her goodbye or thank her for the opportunity, maybe even suggest a Xanax, but the line goes dead. He sighs, sets the phone in its base, and looks over the counter. The same customer squints at him suspiciously and then looks at the phone.

“Witness protection,” he says before he can catch himself. The customer only grins, and Joe smiles back faintly. God bless cultural sarcasm.

***

The clocks are really starting to piss him off. He stares at the ceiling, listening to the soft hum of the occasional car driving by his apartment. Going postal with a hammer on everything ticking in his apartment seems increasingly rational. He rolls over to look at his alarm clock – digital and silent, thank god – and groans. 4am. What an awful time of night. The only people awake now are petty criminals, insomniacs, and bookstore owners obsessing over the potential next mayor. He feels ridiculous even as his mind whirs, throwing imagined images of and conversations with Rhys at him. He knows it’s absurd, and yet he can’t sleep to stop it. Sleeping means closing his eyes, and closing his eyes means being greeted with an absurdly charismatic smile and gunmetal blue eyes. He shouldn’t even know how to imagine his face with such detail, but the television is constantly streaming an interview with him or showing off pictures of his stupid fucking face. Or maybe he’s constantly watching that one news channel and hasn’t changed it in a week. Either or.

He swears and rolls onto his back again, blinking at the ceiling. The irrational anger part of sleeplessness is beginning to kick in, making his skin feel too tight. His own breathing pisses him off. He squirms a bit and lays his hand over his abdomen limply, the other pressing against his eyes. Why had Rhys sent his hyperactive flying monkey on him? And complimented its ‘ambiance’ of all things. As much as he loves it, the only time the media would praise his bookstore would be in retrospect once it’d burnt down. Oh yes, such a lovely little place with its lack of floor space and suffocatingly tall shelves. Such a shame it’s all ashes now. Now, onto Jack with the weather.

It had to have been to see him, hadn’t it? Joe thrashes out with his foot, tugging his comforters to one side, and removes his hand from his face. He knows he has a certain tendency for presumption, but he can’t discern any other reasoning. London is full of bookstores with nicer atmospheres and more reliant HVAC systems – so why his? He can’t imagine he’d charmed Rhys to that degree or even charmed him at all. Joe’d felt like the one on his back foot when they’d met, vulnerable to the flurry of unfailing comebacks and the smile that reached his eyes. He wonders if Rhys is always that lighthearted, or was it just for his public image? He clearly cared about it, if his attire was anything to go by. He had only been wearing a sweater and slacks, an admittedly casual outfit, but they had been noticeably well-fitting. A tailor, then? However, Joe doubts all the credit is due to the clothing. He’d read from some particularly invasive article that Rhys follows a strict workout routine, including but not limited to calisthenics and ungodly amounts of cardio. That has to do the body good–

Oh, what the fuck?

That’s… new. Not entirely welcome, either. Joe yanks his hand back from where it’d been creeping down his abdomen and stuffs it under his leg as if it needs to be restrained. As if it’s not part of him. He stares at himself incredulously, shocked by his own train of thought. He shifts and realizes, mortified, that he’s half hard. What is that about? He – he doesn’t like men. Even when Cary, who is objectively the prime specimen of masculinity, had stood in front of him jerking off (a memory that softens him a bit, thankfully), he’d felt nothing but uncomfortable. Why is it now that he’s fantasizing about another man’s body? It wasn’t really fantasizing, was it? Can’t a guy just idly wonder about another’s workout routine? Sure, but you can’t then wonder what he looks like naked and try to jack off about it.

Joe groans, throws the comforters back impatiently, and sits up, running a hand through his hair. 4:30 am. His socked feet thud dully on the floor as he pads to the bathroom, almost making the mistake of turning the light on. He yanks his hand back, not wanting to be flashbanged. He pisses quickly, happy for once that his hamster-wheel of a brain is a turn-off, washes his hands, and wipes them on his sweats. Joe freezes a step out of the doorway. A dark figure ducks out of his periphery, and his head is consumed by his own heartbeat. Had he left the door open?

No, of course not. He’s better than that. Still, as he slides down the hall quietly, he tests the knob. Still locked. He’s not hallucinating, is he? He’s unsure if he’d rather have that or someone in his apartment. Reaching the junction between the hall and the living room, he cranes his head in, half expecting to be hit from behind. It doesn’t happen, and air rushes from his lungs in relief. Emboldened, he scans the entire room and decides it’s empty. As he turns back to the bedroom, the wind whips into his apartment. He furrows his brows and returns to find a window open a few inches. Confused, he shuts it firmly and locks it. Odd

That handled, he pads back and crawls into bed, turning his alarm clock to face the wall. His pillow is warm, and he flips it and smashes his face into it. It strikes him for the umpteenth time how ridiculous it is that to fall asleep, you have to mimic it when the last thing he wants to do right now is lay motionless and control his breathing. The strife of being alive, he supposes. He doesn’t know what time it is when he finally falls asleep, but the last thing he registers is the tweeting of a bird and the flash of rage that goes with it.

***

The email from [email protected] (how much did she have to pay to get that handle?) arrives promptly in his inbox at 8am. Joe’s phone dings where it sits on the counter as he makes coffee, and he reaches for it, browsing through the slew of PDFs and links attached. He would think he’s being visited by the queen with how exhaustive it all is. The message of each is essentially the same: don’t ask for personal photographs, no recording, and don’t tell your friends. He half expects to find a DNR at the bottom of the list, but he doesn’t. Joe’s phone returns to the counter when the coffee maker bubbles loudly, going about preparing a mug and pulling out the creamer. The kitchen reeks of cheap coffee, but it’s welcome. White blooms up from the mug’s bottom as he sweetens it, then returns everything to its rightful place and settles at his dining table.

He reads the lists carefully on his laptop and finds that most of what he’s instructed to do is clean. While vaguely offensive because it presumes that he doesn’t ordinarily clean, it is easy enough. He’s to close the bookstore all day Saturday, and the event will start at 11am. The PR team will arrive at 9am, and Rhys himself will be at 10am. It runs until 4pm, leaving an hour after for the unofficial signing session (presumably to affluent customers who have enough money to presume time doesn’t apply to them; evidently, it doesn’t). Another hour after that is allotted to disassembling whatever decorative banners and balloon nonsense the PR team will desecrate his bookstore with. That means eight hours of Rhys in his bookstore, and even the presumed presence of Irene the Hurricane can’t dispirit Joe.

He’s suddenly acutely concerned about what he’ll wear. He wrinkles his nose as he sips his coffee, disgusted at himself. He’s thinking like a teenage girl, but he wants to be presentable for the event. Isn’t that reasonable? A possible mayoral candidate is going to be in his store, and it’s an excellent opportunity for publicity for Rhys and Subtexts, and it’s only reasonable to look good when he knows there’ll be cameras–

Fuck! Cameras! How could he have been so stupid? He can’t be surrounded by cameras; he’s supposed to be dead. While highly effective in obscuring his face, the beard isn’t cover enough, especially when he’s going to be in close quarters with the literal press. And he didn’t exactly ‘die’ under unassuming circumstances. He doesn’t have the luxury of melting into the muddled group of the nameless dead. He sets his mug down and scrubs his hands over his face, eyes darting to his phone. He could cancel. He could call Irene, curtly call everything off, and then hang up before she tries to convince him otherwise. But what would Rhys think?

He can’t think about Rhys right now. He needs to do the reasonable thing and continue disappearing into London. Oh god, what if someone recognizes him in the back of a photo, and it gets back to the States? He’d have to run again to some even less favorable corner of the world. What if he had to hurt someone to get away? That’s precisely the last thing he wants, and he’d have to uproot his life all over. The skin of his face tightens as panic sets in, and he hardly notices that he’s rocking in his chair. His phone screen suddenly jumps to life, ringing deafeningly into the room. He blinks at the name, finding there is none. Just an unknown number. He’s unsure what possesses him, but he lunges for it, fingers fumbling over the screen until he accepts the call.

“Jonathan Moore?” His voice is shakier than he’d like it to be. The voice that hums over the line almost makes him drop his phone.

“John? This is Rhys. Rhys Montrose.” Joe stands up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. He catches it with a bitten-back curse, then smooths his hair. He can’t think of what to say.

“Oh, Mr. Montrose. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. I got a call from Ms. Crosby-”

He gets cut off by warm laughter. The sound seeps into his chest, soothing his panic like honeyed tea. He exhales heavily, lets his shoulders droop, and slumps back into his chair. “Please, just call me Rhys,” he says. “Irene told me you agreed to hold the event, and I wanted to call you to thank you myself.”

“Oh–,” Joe starts, then takes a breath again. He just needs to quit panicking; he’s not some prey animal, and Rhys doesn’t bite. “I appreciate that. I was surprised to hear from her.”

“Ah, yes, well, it was admittedly an unusual ask. An impulsive one, at that.” Rhys exhales, sounding timid. Joe cocks his head curiously. “Which is why I was so pleased to hear of your acceptance. I trust you got the email from her this morning?”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been reading through the PDFs, though I’m only part way through.”

Rhys laughs, and Joe can imagine his smile. “To be entirely honest with you, most of them are bullshit.” Joe straightens at Rhys’ swearing. He doesn’t know why he likes it so much. Must be the accent. “It’s all largely bureaucratic and functionally useless. As long as you don’t outright stab me, you should be fine.”

Joe grins, air puffing from his nose. “That’s a pretty low bar to set. What if I had a history of stabbing mayoral candidates?” He knocks his palm into his forehead as he says it. Really?

“I’d still be safe, wouldn’t I? I don’t fit the M.O. quite yet.” Oh, he’s funny now.

Joe taps his forehead a few times, scolding himself. It doesn’t stop him. “I guess you’ll escape the event unscathed.”

Rhys’ voice rumbles with laughter. “From you, at least. Fans can be a bit touchy, but luckily, I have a cockney goon-squad to deal with that.”Goon-squad? “Now, I don’t mean to hold you too long–” Please do. Wait, what? “– so I’ll let you get your day started. Thank you again for accepting. I think it’ll do the book well. I’ll see you Saturday, yeah, John?”

Joe swallows, trying and failing to find a way to extend the conversation. “Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday. Uh, good luck with your ‘goon-squad.’”

Rhys laughs. “I knew I wasn’t going to get away with that.” The call ends.

Joe drops his phone on the table and plants his elbows just to facepalm. Did he just threaten to stab Rhys? He drops his hands and stands up to wash his mug. Mortifying, unintentional threats aside, it had been thoughtful of Rhys to give him a call. Not only thoughtful, but it had dissolved all worry about the event, probably dangerously so. He could dodge a few cameras, couldn’t he? He’s evaded the less-than-rigid line between life and death (at least legally). The English paparazzi are nothing in comparison.

Joe sighs and sets the mug on the drying rack upside down. It had been irrational to panic and even crazier to consider canceling. He can’t do that to Rhys, not when the other had specially requested his bookstore. It would be rude. Worse than that, he’d forfeit a second chance to talk to him. He needs to meet Rhys again. He couldn’t read Rhys as well as he could the others, and the not knowing is killing him. He shakes his head at the grouping; Rhys is not one of them. He’s different. Rhys could be a friend, a confidant – well, maybe not that far. Rhys may be remarkably intelligent even in the first meeting, but he surely wouldn’t be down for befriending a serial killer. No matter how much of a progressive he is.

That settles it, then. Joe’ll clean, help decorate, and hide the corner as the media have their field day. He doesn’t think that’d come off as too weird. What else would a bookstore owner be around a celebrity and his followers but awkwardly-almost-creepily shy and holed up behind the counter? He looks up at the clock; 9am. Picking up his keys, he makes for the apartment door and then locks it behind him. He gazes down the stairs at the wooden floors of his bookstore. Time to clock in, sell books, pretend to care about unprompted personal anecdotes, and not obsess over the fact that Rhys will be back in a matter of days.

#my work #goldrose #joe goldberg #rhys montrose #you netflix #joe x rhys #fanfiction

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pluckysidekick · 11 months

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So no trailer this week with two and a half weeks to go, le sigh. We did see ads from local stations (using old promo photos), and we got what appears to be the Nancy Drew 4.01 title and description. Read on for that and a bunch more show and cast bits from the past week.

“The Dilemma of the Lover’s Curse.” They’re hitting the curse head on, which I like. Two different sites posted the title along with an episode description that came right from the season 4 description we got back in January.

Now that we’re so close, the reality of Nancy and Ace having potential love interests is sinking in. We know that Nancy will not risk Ace’s life as long as there’s no solution to the curse. I’m still hopeful for lots of Nace scenes, with plenty of delicious angst. Curious how this squares with Kennedy’s discussion of Nancy and Ace’s emotional openness with each other - I still expect Ace to figure out the curse quickly.

I’m also super hyped about the sins of the town’s past, the multiple supernatural mysteries, and the stories for the entire crew. May 31 is so close I can taste it.

Scott Wolf gave us some insight into S4’s resolution for our beloved characters in a new interview - it was a big deal for them to know it was the final season ahead of time, the season will cover the things that are most important to us, but “not every resolution is going to be satisfying for everyone.”

Glad to hear they planned real resolutions for everyone, terrified about them not all being satisfying. I’m absolutely expecting Nace endgame, but I want good things for all of our family. They’re keeping us on our toes…

We saw lots of our cast this week - Kennedy made a surprise appearance in an Arizona bookstore with her author parents (note this pic is with her mom and the bookseller, not McDad), Maddison was in Paris and England with her Versailles cast and her family, and Riley is appearing in another episode of Station 19 this week.

Alex has been on vacay in Italy and France (Hannah captioned the first photo “Alex doesn’t like PDA. So I fixed it” ☠️). Alex’s new show High Desert premieres this week on Apple TV. There’s a new in depth, spoilery review at AV Club. According to the article (spoiler alert), Peggy (Patricia Arquette) is “no longer speaking to her grown son.” We won’t see Alex until episode 6 - could he play Peggy’s son?

Leah’s show Matlock was picked up for the fall (watch the trailer), and she’s celebrating in Mexico with her bf.

Meanwhile Queen Charlotte is another huge hit with fantastic exposure for Tunji - check out the in depth Tatler profile on our favorite Scotsman, where he draws an interesting parallel between Charlotte & George’s and Harry & Meghan’s experiences - and admits he’s never watched Bridgerton.

In more show news, the Nancy Drew writers’ request for fan input has generated tons of great questions but only chaos from the writers so far - no real answers yet.

Speaking of chaos, Kennedy stepped into the fray to drop four songs from her S4 playlist. “The Winner Takes it All” (no more ace to play), “all my ghosts” (all my ghosts are with me), and “Thinking of You” (cause when I’m with him I am thinking of you) are killing me, the pain. “Big Poppa” has me thinking about Nancy under some kind of spell a la Burning Bride (as she described Episode 2) hitting on everyone in sight - “mackin’ hoes” while “my crew’s behind me.” Now in honor of “Big Poppa”, what if it’s Ryan!?

Finally, two more cast members were added to IMDB - Fred the car towing guy is back for 3 episodes (3, 5, and 13), and there’s a new security guard in Episode 9.

You get a gold star if you made it to the end. Another week, another wish for a trailer and new photos. I’m busy wrapping up The Space Between - expect the thrilling (I hope) conclusion before the season premiere. Also planning a fluffy epilogue, I at least can promise satisfying conclusions for everyone!

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #ace [redacted]#nace #ndcw #kennedy mcmann #maddison jaizani #tunji kasim #leah lewis #alex saxon #scott wolf #nancy drew season 4 #nancy drew s4 #nacesource #ndcentral

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gossamer-green · 8 months

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had nothing to listen to so decided to just relisten to malevolent. and oh boy listening with hindsight is fun. i have some notes:

i forgot how...normal john sounds right at the very beginning. but he snaps at arthur a lot, and it doesn't take long before it stays in a deeper, warped state

i still feel like john was kinda gaslighting arthur with the whole killing/not killing eddie deal in the office

arthur is lamenting his loss of sight and says "knowing that i'll never see a loved one's face, and...and nevermind" lmao what loved ones buddy 🤣

john's upset reaction about arthur not trying to help emily feels extremely out of place. what is that about

arthur slips and says "us" as early as the bookstore in episode 2. episode 2!!!

if john snapped a s1 "do what i say" at s4 arthur, it would start another divorce

arthur has his first "i am so tired of this mess" spiel at the cummings' old house. oh arthur, this is just the beginning, my guy

#malevolent #gossamer thoughts

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multi-writer · 2 years

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Eddie Munson x Athlete! Reader

I posted this enemies to lovers blurb some hours ago and I can´t stop thinking about it so instead of working I decided to write it in bullets lol. And I wasn´t expecting my first bullet imagine to be this long (it was longer but Tumblr made me erase some parts). I was really inspired, sorry boss (I freaking love bookworm Eddie)

This is before canon so don´t worry for S4 spoilers

Requested: No

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

You hate each other

That´s it

Literally despise each other to guts because he´s so idiot and not responsible and a big ass child and weird

And you´re so miss right, miss perfect, miss always-training-to-be-better, so into grades and futures

And weird

Every Thursday he would come out of school at night after playing D&D and you would see him because you just finished some late training

Mess each other for a bit

“What´s up Miss sweats?”

“Shut it Mr. grade failure”

Even in recess you´d love to throw him a box of milk when he´s on a table giving a loser speech. Just to see him mad

In classes he´s a pain in the ass

“Hey, pass me question 3”

“Fuck off”

“Professor! She´s copying from my exam!”

“I DO NOT”

“Quiet you two!”

Even every teacher knows about your feelings toward the other

Hell, everybody knows this

Anyway

On Monday you were walking back from some training and as always you decided to go pass the bookstore and check new releases.

Surprise! There’s an announcement in the bookstore announcing they will have the LOTR special edition

And that’s weird because nobody pays attention to the small town of Hawkins

It´s a special edition. Limited copies.

Not only that, it´s about your favorite high fantasy book.

Heck, scratch that. Your favorite book of all time.

You. Need. To. Get. It.

But there’s a problem. A big one.

The release date is on the next Thursday. And guess who has late training? Yes. Miss-bad-luck you

There´s two options, cancel training or train earlier and hope you get a copy

…

Nah, cancel it. A special edition is worth it.

The week before release day you´re so anxious people wonder if you´re into drugs

If everybody notices your anxiety so does Eddie

“Something wrong miss great? Need something to calm you down?”

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up for once you´ll play your dragon game in the hospital”

Rude.

But what you didn´t know is that Eddie was in the same place, he is also a LOTR fan, he has all the books besides The Hobbit ones. If he could live in a fantasy place, would be in those books.

So. He. Also. Needs. It.

Both of you are in the same situation and didn´t even notice

Eddie has been planning how to tell the guys that D&D was canceled that day

They won´t like it. But again, they didn´t know about their leader´s love for books.

If he doesn’t get that book he would unsubscribe from LifE

Obviously the guys complained about it but Eddie convince them to have a free day to rest their brave souls for the next battle

He knows how to convince people.

Thursday morning passed way slower than ever

the last bell ran so fast you felt your legs give up.

Oh no.

The line is so long you bet all your money you won´t get a copy, until an angel sent from heaven save you.

“I didn´t know you like those books”

“I didn´t know you knew how to read”

Eddie Munson was there, almost in front of the line. Of course he would skip classes

“Well, guess Wonder Woman was slow this time and won´t get a copy”

Not gonna lie, that hurt like hell, you do wanted a copy but now its almost impossible and his words hit a nerve.

Eddie wasn´t a fool, he saw the way your face fell and your body seemed like it carried the weight of the world and god bless his pretty heart

“you know… just… get in front of me…”

Eddie couldn’t look the way your face lighted and your smile got big because he was looking at the other way to hide his blush.

The bookstore would open in 2 more hours so instead of being quiet and awkward you decided to ask him about other books.

And he answered so nice he would tell you everything and make you laugh

Two hours of books recommendations until the bookstore opened its doors and you two managed to get each one a copy.

All thanks to Eddie swore-enemy Munson

You both said goodbye not before thanking him for letting you in the line.

Something changed between you. You were nicer to each other making the whole school confused.

One day in recess he came to your table just to pull something from his bag.

A book.

His favorite copy of “Farenheit 451” with notes on the corners of the pages.

Your heart was beating so fast you swore he could hear it.

The next day you gave him your favorite and secret copy of “To kill a mockingbird”

On Friday he waited for you to talk about the book you lent him and gosh you have a crush on Eddie now

And he has a crush on you now.

You two would go to the park every Friday and talk about books for some weeks until he lent you a book with a note inside it asking if he could court you as if you two were in 1800.

Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who?

Nah

You and Eddie Munson

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things one shot #stranger things imagine #st4

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faorism · 1 year

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my gay ass is VERY lucky they only had s4 on DVD at my local b&n (i swear i only buy books from local bookstores; they just have most comfy chairs to work in on this side of town) because i would have absolutely impulse bought them all

#leverage #s4 is soooo good tho im tempted

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mikaistudies · 8 months

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omg tysm @phnxstudies for tagging me! ;; 🩵

current song: When They Turn The Lights On by ONE OK ROCK

currently reading: 5 different books... (The Secret History by Donna Tartt, tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen, & The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho)

currently watching: rewatching random seasons/episodes of Friends for idk how many times since 2020 bc i loooooove the show!! makes me happy and gives me comfort<3 The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague!! watching such a cute anime before starting bungo stray dogs s4 ;-; dw i know what happened in s5 shhh

current obsessions: hmmm i've been busy and tired these past few weeks bc of uni but i'd say playing stardew valley and farlight84...? Still obsessed with classic books tho <3 i might purchase another book if i'd drop by the bookstore this week and the college library's hosting a book sale :3 Also i'm having fun trying different tea flavors and looking for pretty teacups! 💖

i'm sorry for the tag aaaaaaa @winryrockbellwannabe @megumi-fm @theabyssthatstaresback @gabiesletters 🩵

#mikaistudies

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liuvli · 1 year

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Critical Darling

pairing: eddie munson x fem!goth!reader

summary: It's your senior year. You're a "goth freak" and you definitely stand out, but it doesn't bother you. You're proud of who you are, and nobody is going to change that. Not even the person that motivated you to be so proud in the first place. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

warnings: she/her pronouns, slow burn, cursing, alcohol, smoking, eventual smut, minor use of y/n, slightly bitchy reader, work in progress

tags: first meetings, pov second person, s4 doesn’t happen, goth!reader, tradgoth!reader, fluff, angst, eddie & chrissy friendship, reader is a little fruity

all fic chapters & ao3 link

chapter wc: 6.6k

Chapter Three: Leather Doll

“-up. Hey, wake UP!” You stirred awake at the sound of a fist hammering on your bedroom door, your sister's voice taking a minute longer to process. As you dragged the pad of your middle finger over your eyelids, attempting to wipe the sleep away, you managed to open a singular eye, your vision blurred but still able to make out the shape of the girl standing in your open doorway.

“Huh…? What time is it?” As you lifted the quilt off your body, you kicked your legs over the side of the bed, sitting up with your arms stretched out above your head.

“Phone’s ringing,” April replied, not answering the question you had actually asked. Groaning, you stood up and smoothed the t-shirt you were wearing out, sluggishly pushing past the short girl to make your way down the hall towards the staircase. She followed behind with a bowl of cereal in her hands.

“Why couldn’t you have answered it? You’re a big girl, you don’t need me to answer the phone anymore.” You chuckled at the comment you made, April scoffing as she pushed past you to beeline into the kitchen.

“‘Cause, it’s not for me.”

“Hello…?” Your eyes snapped open at the loud voice on the other end replying to you, and as the person spoke, you finally realized who it was.

“G’morning, love! How is my favorite person in the entire world doing on this sunny Saturday?” Although you were the one who had been awake for only a maximum of 5 minutes, the chipper tone of Kace’s voice seemed so unwarranted for it being so early in the day.

“I’m doing… good, Kace. I’ve been awake for about 30 seconds but still, doing amazing.” The way you annunciated the last word was telling of how sarcastic you were trying to seem while saying it, but apparently, that point didn’t get across to your friend. You walked out into the hallway with the landline still in your hand, the cord stretching to its limit as you turned the corner, looking at your puffy-eyed reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall.

“Great! Meet me at the diner in town at 2. See you there, love!” Before you could object to the boy’s preposterous demand, a click sounded through the phone as Kace hung up on you, the dial tone ringing into your ear as you groaned into the receiver. Knowing you had no other choice, you made your way back into the kitchen, placing the landline back onto the wall as you looked up at the clock. 12:24 pm. The late time you had woken up didn’t surprise you much as you recalled staying awake until 4 that same morning, just listening to music whilst reading one of the books you had acquired from the town’s bookstore earlier on in the week.

“You going out?” April perked up, chewing on a mouthful of honeycomb cereal as she stared up at you through messy parted bangs. Despite how much you didn’t feel like leaving the house so soon, you accepted defeat as it was Kace who was asking you to leave the house. Not having the energy to return a verbal response to the girl, you lazily nodded before dragging yourself out of the room, heading back up to your own room to get dressed.

With some of your favorite music playing on the stereo you had on your desk, you were just about ready to leave the house over an hour later. You had spent the hour or so teasing and hair spraying your locks into a dark, frizzy mane, and painting your face with the palest drugstore foundation you could find, accentuating your features with black makeup of all different kinds. For it being October in Hawkins, and with just a single glance through your closed curtains, it seemed to be a warm, sunny day outside, which meant you chose one of your thinner draping dresses to wear; one with short sleeves that would still look somewhat okay with your black laced gloves and whatever silver jewelry you had thrifted over time.

Being conscious of the time and not wanting to be late for Kace, you poked your head into the living room, looking around for April as your eyes finally locked onto her sitting on the couch. You tapped the door frame, trying to grab her attention away from whatever was in her lap as you spoke.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll be back in a bit, and I’ve got my keys but if you decide to go anywhere, make sure to lock up with the spare key on the hook. ‘Kay, Apricot?” Strangely, the blonde didn’t perk up, even at the awful nickname you had been calling her since the beginning of time. Instead, she absentmindedly dismissed you with a nod, scrawling something into the notebook in her hands. Hoping she had somewhat listened, you finally left the house, slipping your headphones onto your head as you played the cassette you already had in your walkman.

After a long trek into town whilst listening to one of your many mixtapes, you had finally reached the diner, slipping the headphones off the back of your head and letting them rest around your neck as your face scrunched up in dis-ease, an uncomfortable feeling settling thick in your chest.

Your eyes landed on a van that was parked outside the diner in one of the parking spaces. It shouldn’t have made you feel so off, but for some reason, it did. It looks… familiar. But you couldn’t pinpoint why. Choking down the strange feeling lodged in your throat, trying to rid yourself of it, you made your way into the diner, hoping that spending time with Kace would serve as a distraction.

As you made your way inside, your eyes darted around the semi-busy establishment, landing on a few people sitting at tables and booths. None of them were Kace, and you couldn’t see him anywhere, despite the fact that he usually stuck out like a sore thumb due to his bold, dark fashion choices, similar to your own, of course. Thinking that maybe you had gotten the time wrong or something, you look up at the clock on the wall above the counter, and sure enough, it had just hit 2:05 pm. As you were about to step outside to see if Kace’s car was even in the parking lot, the sound of a door opening caught your attention as you turned your attention over to the noise. As if he could sense your presence in the room as he walked out of the restroom, Kace’s head turned and his dark eyes locked with yours, a wide grin forming on his lips. The tall boy giddily walked over to one of the booths, sliding down onto a seat as he waved his hand at you, beckoning you to join him.

He was sitting at a table with a few other people, and the gears started turning in your head as you recognized a few of the faces, specifically those belonging to Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson, two boys you knew through your sister being in the same grade as them. She had told you stories about the boys ever since she first went the middle school with them. Absolute menaces, from what you had gathered.

Dragging your eyes away from the two bickering freshman, skimming over a few other unfamiliar faces and heads, your attention lands on the back of a single head in particular. Long, brown, knotted curls draped over a pair of broad, slumped shoulders, arms extending out towards the table as the figure rambled on about something you couldn’t quite distinguish. It was him, there was no doubt about it. His theatrics and iconic lion’s mane were recognizable to anyone. Why the fuck was Kace sitting at a table with the last person you wanted to see right now?

Figuring it’d be less awkward to take a seat at the booth rather than making a complete 180, walking out of the diner and never being seen again, you cautiously stepped towards the table, assuring to avoid letting your curious eyes fall on the face of the brunette as you slid onto the seat next to Kace, conveniently managing to place yourself directly opposite the one you dreaded acknowledging the most. Itching to understand the situation you had managed to get yourself into on that fateful Saturday afternoon, you cocked your head towards Kace, leaning closer to the boy to ensure only he could hear you speak.

With a low, agitated whisper, you ask, “Care to explain how and why I’m currently sat across from the fucking Eddie Munson right now on a sunny afternoon when I could be elsewhere instead? You know, literally anywhere else.” The boy sitting at your side let his eyes flit down to the table in front of you, before coming back up to lock with yours, and the small accidental gesture made you follow suit. And that’s when you noticed it.

Sprawled across the table were numerous pens, pencils, and sheets of paper, along with the diner’s menus. The vast amount of crumpled sheets of paper had words messily scribbled on each of them, all in different handwriting styles and colored pens. They were DnD planning sheets, and character sheets, from what you could tell. During one of your many hangout sessions over the years, you could recall the gothic boy you had known since you could remember talking your ear off once about the dreaded game that the parents of Hawkins seemed to loathe, and yet obsess over entirely at the same time.

You didn’t understand the attraction of the roleplaying game, but you did know that the way Kace spoke about it meant it was something he loved more than anything he had ever spoken about to you before. Middle school was when he played it the most with friends he had met at summer camps, but the second high school rolled around, he seemed to have forgotten about it. From the predicament you were in now, however, apparently, he hadn’t forgotten at all.

The pieces started to click together in your head as you began to understand what Kace was there for, but it didn’t answer the question you more importantly needed answering; why were YOU there?

A once-in-a-lifetime warm, sunny October day in the miserable town of Hawkins, and I’m sitting in a stuffy diner with a traitor, who I once called my best friend, a table of boys I had never had the pleasure of talking to, and the one person I absolutely did not want to see today, or ever, in fact. Lovely, how great. I’m so lucky to be alive right now.

“Well...” Kace’s raspy voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he finally decided to grace you with an attempt at a valid explanation, “I heard around school that Hendy and Wheeler were looking for a sub for Hellfire seeing as one of their members had to bail last minute for some other shit, and you know how much I’ve always wanted to play DnD with an actual club.” As you processed his words, your eyes wandered around the table, observing the 6 boys that had crammed into the one booth, each of them preoccupied with discussing things amongst themselves or scrawling messy notes onto sheets of lined paper.

Kace was right, you had always known how much he wanted to play with an established team. But his reasonable explanation still didn’t answer your burning question.

“Right… okay. Why am I here, though? I don’t know shit about this game, and I sure as hell won’t be learning any time soon.” Returning back to making eye contact with the slim boy hunched over next to you, he rolled his eyes as his fingers picked a pencil up from the table in front of him, tapping the pink eraser at the end of it against a sheet of paper.

“… I need my support animal with me in these difficult times. Truth be told, I’ve never actually spoken to anyone here before yesterday, so planning a DnD campaign with two freshmen and some guys I don’t know seemed kinda… shit. Figured it wouldn’t hurt if I invited a plus one.” The tight-lipped, smug smile on Kace’s face made your blood boil as the cockiness in his tone was ever apparent.

“Why the fuck am I your support animal? I thought I was your love, your dearest, most precious friend.” Trying to not reveal the slight annoyance you felt despite Kace’s understandable excuse for dragging you out of your house on a Saturday, you gently nudged the boy in his side with your elbow, laughing quietly as his tense shoulders softened at your lighthearted response.

“You are, love. You are.”

With a final, defeated sigh, you turned your attention back to the rest of the group sitting around the table, allowing Kace to continue writing down notes on a crumpled, coffee-stained sheet of paper. Not really knowing what you were supposed to do whilst acting as the boy’s “support animal”, you let your eyes skim across the faces of the others, trying to figure out the identities of the few you weren’t familiar with.

After a few short seconds of no names coming to mind, your gaze managed to finally land on the brunette sitting directly across from you.

…What the fuck…?

Eddie’s deep, brown eyes were wide, somehow bigger than their usual doe-like appearance, and the lower half of his face was masked by a thick tuft of hair from the side of his head which he was holding over his mouth, hiding whatever expression he was holding underneath. His eyes were boring into you, making your skin feel warm and itchy as you felt as if you were being watched like an animal in a zoo. Trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling created by Eddie’s eyes remaining so scarily and persistently trained on your face, you shifted in your seat as if trying to shrink in on yourself. Maybe if you were smaller and shrank down to the size of a bug, he wouldn’t be staring at you so intensely.

However, the decision to attempt to shrivel in on yourself was your biggest mistake as your legs crossed under the table, and in par, the end of your boot grazed against Eddie’s leg, presumably dragging up his shin. Despite your internal monologue cursing out prayers to the almighty God that was supposed to be up there somewhere, the audible hitch in the boy’s breath and the way his entire frame stiffened at the contact was a clear indication that he had, in fact, noticed the accidental touch of your boot against his denim-clad shin.

Against your own wishes, your eyes flicked back up and locked with his, immediately regretting doing so as you noticed the… disgust(?) on Eddie’s face. Almost as if he couldn’t even bare to be sitting across from you, let alone making any type of bodily contact with you (the feeling mutual, of course), the lids of his wide eyes fluttered in a sort of twitching motion. Before you could even do anything, such as apologize or run out of the diner, never to be seen again (something that seemed especially appealing today), the boy scrambled to slide out one of the laminated menus from under numerous sheets of paper, holding the large object up to his face and covering it in its entirety. As he did so, the dark curls peeking out from under the menu shifted on his shoulders, indicating that he had turned his head to face the younger boy sitting next to him, who quickly followed suit, eyes skimming past your face before fully landing on Eddie.

As the two boys muttered behind the thin (and magically soundproof) laminated menu, you watched as the metalhead’s free hand waved around at his side, a sign that he clearly wasn’t exactly overjoyed about something. Twisting the rings around your fingers anxiously and trying to look at just about anything and everything in the room that wasn’t the silent scene in front of you, your eyes snapped back to look at Eddie and the boy in the sleeveless plaid jacket as the older male dropped the laminated menu onto the table to expose his face once again, eyes half-lidded in annoyance and an overall resigned look on his face. The brunette with the shorter hair shook his head expectantly as if waiting for Eddie to continue with his tantrum. With one last glance over at you as if to remind the metalhead that you were still there, Eddie breathed out an agitated, yet defeated sigh/groan, just like the one you had given Kace minutes before.

Allowing Gareth to go back to discussing something with Wheeler and Henderson, Eddie turned his body to face you again, fidgeting in his seat to stretch his legs out under the table. His boot briefly entered your vision as the obnoxious gesture made it so the scuffed, leather shoe placed itself on the floor, slotted in between your own two boots. Rolling your eyes, you slid your headphones back onto your head, leaving one of the sides off of the ear that was closest to Kace, just in case the boy needed something from you. Preparing to waste your day sitting in a stuffy diner with a group of boys you entirely weren’t familiar with, and the infamous Eddie Munson, you pressed the play button on your walkman, allowing Joy Division to quietly play through the one headphone that was on your ear.

Throughout the next few hours, all the way through to somewhere around 6:30 pm, you resorted to being the one to make constant trips to order more food and drinks for the table, essentially turning yourself into the mom of the group. Over the span of four hours, you had dabbled in a few conversations the boys were having that weren’t entirely DnD related, grasping at any type of topic of conversation you could involve yourself in. Surprisingly, through the power of human connection, you had learned the names of the once nameless boys and had additionally learned that not all Hellfire members were aggravating pains in your ass.

From what DnD-related conversations you had listened in on, you gathered that the boys were mostly coming up with ideas for future campaigns, assisting Kace in writing up a character sheet, and figuring out how to implement the boy’s character into their current team.

Despite how bored you had been the entire time, listening to both sides of your cassette twice and scribbling small drawings on a piece of paper Kace had given to you, you found yourself content with the situation you were in. Although it wasn’t how you’d usually spend your Saturdays, you enjoyed seeing Kace so happy and social, talking to people about something he had loved since the start of time itself. Even if Hellfire was only a temporary fix for him until their missing player, Lucas Sinclair, was freed from the restraints of basketball practice, a strictly scheduled occurrence enforced by Jason Carver himself, you knew Kace would make the most of being Hellfire’s sub.

Seeing Kace so authentically happy was great and all, but you were still bored. There are only enough times that you can listen to the same cassette in a short period of time before it gets repetitive, you know? Along with the long, awkward silence you had engulfed yourself in for the majority of the past few hours, you were also aching from how cramped up you felt. Eight people crammed into a single curved diner booth wasn’t really an issue, surprisingly; instead, it was the fact that you had chosen to keep yourself shriveled up in a small space, as earlier’s boot-knocking incident had you taking extra measures to ensure it wouldn’t happen again. This resulted in Eddie keeping his legs stretched out under the table just centimeters away from yours the entire time, only moving away whenever he had to stand for someone to get out of the booth or when he himself needed to go to the restroom. At this rate, you’d fossilize where you were sitting because of how you had managed to condense yourself into the smallest space possible like a sardine in a tin.

Sitting back in your seat with your arms crossed, nails scratching at the skin on one of your thumbs, and walkman and headphones tucked away into your bag, your eyes wandered across the table absentmindedly, taking note of all the empty glasses in front of everyone. Thank the Lord.

“Anyone need refills?” As you spoke up, the boys all turned their attention onto you, the clinking of glasses being pushed towards you sounding instantly at the same time. A couple of the boys murmured quiet ‘thank you’s as they continued talking amongst themselves, but Dustin spoke louder than the others.

“Thank you again. We’d be truly lost without you.” He nodded his head as he spoke, tipping his ‘Thinking Cap’ at you with a wide smile on his face. Collecting as many of the glasses in your arms as you could possibly hold without bearing the risk of dropping anything, you snorted at his somewhat genuine appreciation of you.

“No worries, Henderson.” You nodded in response to the boy as you began walking over to the counter with just about half of the empty glasses the boys had placed in front of you, making a mental note to go back to retrieve the leftover glasses that you couldn’t hold.

Reaching the counter, the glasses clanked against each other as you set them down, feigning a dramatic huff and placing your hands on your hips in an exhausted mannerism. The girl working the counter turned around with a glass in hand, wiping the inside of it with a white dishcloth as she smiled warmly at you, before grabbing the dirty glasses and placing them on the countertop behind her.

“You, like, their mom or something? This is your fifth time coming up to the counter to order stuff for them,” she lightheartedly joked, giggling to herself. With a breathy laugh, you sat down on one of the stools at the counter, trying to avoid ruining your makeup as you leaned your cheek on your palm, elbow digging into the cold surface it rested on.

“Pfft, yeah, I basically am. The one with the similar get-up to me invited me here earlier without telling me what for, and now I’m stuck playing babysitter.” The blonde chuckled, pulling a pen and small notepad out of her breast pocket as she readied to take another order from you.

“Tough luck,” she paused before asking you anything further, “actually, I’ve still got your drinks order from earlier written down here. You want me to just get you what you got then?” Grateful for her expert customer service skills, and ability to sense when someone just needed a bit of a break, you beamed at her in relief, holding your hands together in prayer.

“God, yes, thank you. Forever grateful for your support in these trying times, hun.” With another giggle, the girl tucked her notepad and pen back into her pocket, giving you one last sweet glance before turning on her heel to start preparing the drinks.

You watched the girl happily work as she hummed along to the quiet radio playing on the counter next to you, her blonde ponytail swaying with each movement she made. The cheerful pep in her step was refreshing the see in a town like Hawkins, especially after the long day you had been through. Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of the short moment of calm you were in as you sensed a body slide onto the stool directly next to yours, a hand decorated generously in chunky, silver rings placing a few empty classes on the counter entering the corner of your vision.

Shit. Speaking to the cute waitress made me forget about those glasses… fuck.

Thankfully, despite your apparent incompetence to remember the mental note you had made, Eddie had decided to bring the other few empty glasses to the front, something you almost found yourself thanking him for. That was, of course, until you remembered exactly who he was. Eddie Munson. Instead, you stayed silent, keeping your eyes trained on the blonde happily dancing to the pop song playing on the radio.

“Got a few more glasses for you here, Cunningham. You’re welcome,” he finally spoke, and the fact that he addressed the girl by a name had you intrigued. Did he know the girl? Thinking about it, the girl did seem somewhat familiar…

“Thanks, Eddie,” the blonde turned around for a second, grabbing the glasses and placing them on the back worktop with the others, “you guys doing your… Dungeons and Dragons stuff? It is called that, right?” The brunette let out a boyish chuckle, grinning as he fidgeted with the rings around his fingers idly.

“Yeah, that’s right. And yeah, we are. ‘M hoping to start a new campaign next week with the boys and we’re just trying to get a few things rearranged and sorted seeing as one of our players is preoccupied with your boyfriend’s incessant need to keep a strict practice schedule.” As he responded, the girl fully turned her body to face him, her shoulders slumping and arms dropping at her sides as she wore an apologetic expression.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You know how Jason can get when it comes to basketball. I can try and get him to ease up on Sinclair, if you want-”

“No, no, it’s fine. Honestly. We’ve got Hayes subbing for the time being, so there’s no need. Thanks for the offer though.” Giving the boy one last sincere smile, she turned back around the continue working on the back countertop.

No longer occupied with his interaction with the blonde waitress, Eddie turned his attention over to you, trying to not make it obvious as you both locked eyes. Eddie “The Freak” Munson and the Chrissy Cunningham… were friends? For a reason you could most definitely place, that possibility seemed alien to you.

“That’s the strangest crossover I’ve ever seen.” The now-silent boy cocked an eyebrow at you, still idly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

“You and the queen of Hawkins High. Didn’t know you knew each other.” With a quiet scoff beforehand, Eddie laughed snarkily at your comment, grabbing onto a few of the beverages Chrissy had placed on the countertop in front of the two of you.

“Yeah, well, I know a lot of people, doll. Don’t get too jealous, will you?” With a single obviously sarcastic, half-assed smile, Eddie made his way back to the booth where everyone was sitting, placing the glasses he had carried over in front of a few people.

You sat silent, in a mixture of offense and awe as Chrissy turned around and placed a few more full glasses on the counter, tightening her ponytail before leaning against the cold surface, her eyes locked onto Eddie just as yours were.

“Don’t mind him. He’s probably just annoyed that he’s paying for an unexpected party member’s drinks.” As the girl spoke, your eyes widened as your snapped your head to the side to face her, lips slightly parted in shock.

“Oh, shit. He’s the one paying for all these? I thought everyone chipped in at the end or something-” The blonde laughed with a soft lilt.

“He does a lot for his boys, believe it or not. And he certainly wouldn’t make a lady pay for her own drinks in his presence, no matter he much he loves to act as if you’re the bane of his entire being.” Listening to Chrissy’s words, your eyes had somehow found themselves settled on the boy’s side profile, taking note of the way his lips curled up at the corners as he grinned at the Hellfire club. When you looked back at Chrissy, the girl was smiling at you, her cheeks rosy and bunched up.

Looking down at the glasses on the counter to try and distract yourself from the previous conversation, you picked up a few before realizing you weren’t going to be able to hold two of them, Chrissy thankfully catching onto this realization.

“Go and take a seat, I’ll bring the other two over.” You nodded, silently thanking the girl as you accepted her help without another thought.

Making your way back over to the booth, you slid down onto your seat, handing a glass to Kace and sliding one over to Jeff as he nodded at you gratefully. Chrissy placed two glasses on the table which were immediately scooped up by Dustin and Mike, the boys instantly downing half of their drinks in a split few seconds.

After being back at the table for only at least 10 minutes, Chrissy’s words were still lingering at the very front of your mind as you stared across at Eddie, a ring-clad finger pointing at the curly-haired freshman as he lectured him on a “stupid, bullshit, nonsensical” suggestion he had made, the freshman arguing back with the same amount of ferocity. Trying not the dwell on staring at the side of the metalhead’s face for too long, you sipped on your glass of coke as you stared out the diner window, the sky very noticeably dark as it neared 7 pm. You looked down, and your straw was marked black, your lipstick clearly being the culprit. Christ, sitting in silence was really fucking boring.

You sat wondering how much longer you’d have to sit in silence putting up with the shouting-fest happening around you, the boys “debating” (arguing) on whether they should write Lucas’ character out of next week’s upcoming campaign, or if they should just leave his absence unexplained, not mentioning it in the story. Truly riveting entertainment, you thought.

As if you had manifested it or all of your praying to a higher power throughout the day had finally come to fruition, the boys soon decided to call it a day, Eddie declaring that it was for the best before someone got murdered. The sudden cold October breeze nipped at your exposed skin as you stood by the door to the diner, waiting for Kace to finish a conversation with Gareth as you lit yourself a cigarette.

Apparently, sunny October weather isn’t to be trusted. The fact that you had, for once, decided to leave the house in thin clothing, one of your favorite long, black, witch-esque dresses without a jacket, was now a decision that had come back to bite you in the ass. Standing outside in the diner’s parking lot freezing your ass off whilst waiting for Kace to drive you home wasn’t really how you saw your evening going.

Trying to occupy your mind with something other than the way the cold air slivered along every inch of your body, you turned your head to look through the diner’s window, watching Chrissy clean tables, her blonde bangs framing her face perfectly as her head dipped to lean down. Too busy focusing on what she was doing, you didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching you until the sound of a metal chain rattling alerted you. Taking a drag of your cigarette, you slowly turned your head as you pried your eyes away from the blonde waitress, the smoke you exhaled through your nostrils immediately dispersing in the wind.

“Jesus, Kace, finally. I was wondering how long it was gonna ta-” You turn, and lock eyes with Eddie Munson, who was just standing less than a meter in front of you. What the fuck, man.

“Need something, Munson? Or you just gonna stand there and look pretty?” You take a deep drag of your cigarette as the brunette let out a low chuckle, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, and his eyes flicking around the area in an attempt to avoid prolonged eye contact with you.

“I’m s’posed to be giving Gareth the Great a ride home but he’s busy talking to your friend over there.” Giving yourself a boost by standing on your tippy-toes, you peeped over the boy’s shoulder, and sure enough, Kace is leaned against the side of Eddie’s van talking to the much-shorter male in the plaid jacket, the two of them happily chatting along about something you couldn’t hear from such a distance.

Pursing your lips together, you flick the ash off the end of your cigarette. Finally making actual eye contact with you, the most intentional it had been the entire day, Eddie asks, “May I?” You’re confused for a moment before he brings a hand up to point at the cigarette slotted between your two fingers. You take a couple of beats to contemplate.

...

For the sake of simplicity.

“Sure, whatever,” you respond, holding the cigarette up to allow the metalhead to pinch it from your grasp. He does so, and brings it up to his face, inspecting the black lipstick painted around the filter end of the white stick. With his head dipped to observe the marks, his eyes look up at you through thick lashes, seemingly analyzing your face before bringing the stick up to his lips, inhaling deeply, holding it for a long few seconds before exhaling through his nose, a gesture you thought was his way of mocking you.

Now without the distraction of the cigarette between your lips, you quickly resumed your shivering, the cold once against starting its assault on you as the summer-friendly dress you were wearing neglected to do you any favors as you stood out in the mid-October Hawkins weather. Eddie snorted as he noticed your shivering.

“Cold out, isn’t it? Careful, love, you’ll scare someone off with all that teeth-chattering. Or maybe it’ll just be the way you dress, who knows.” You grimaced at his snide remark, looking at him with a face of pure disgust.

“Don’t call me that.” Eyebrows perked up in a condescending manner, Eddie took a step closer to you, letting the cigarette sit between his index and middle fingers as he crossed his arms, the leather of his jacket audibly rubbing together.

“What, you got a preference or something? Didn’t get any complaints earlier when I called you doll. Is that it, maybe?” his head dipped to hang just next to yours, his cheek just a few small inches away from your own, “is that what really does it for you?” The snarl as he spoke those last few words was laced with mockery, and you snatched the cigarette from his grasp while he was so close, taking a drag from it.

“Fuck off, Munson,” you exhaled a cloud of smoke in the boy’s cocky face, causing him to step back slightly, “you walked away before I could smack you ‘round the head for that one. It wasn’t really a fair fight by my standards.” Overhearing the conversation between Gareth and Kace soon coming to an end, Eddie turned his nose up at you, looking over his shoulder momentarily at the two boys.

“It’s never a fair fight with me, angel.” You scoff, trying to mask the way the new nickname made your skin crawl. Or maybe it was the gust of chilled wind that danced over your exposed limbs. It was something, that’s all you knew.

Turning your head to avoid the much-taller male’s gaze, you take a small drag of the nearly burnt-out cigarette, but as you did, you felt the boy standing in front of you shove something into your arms.

“Hold this,” he ordered, the stubby cigarette falling out of your grasp at the impact and dropping to the ground below. As you looked down, the sight of patches sewn onto denim was an immediate indication as to what you were holding. You squint your eyes in confusion, looking back up to see Eddie peeling his dull leather jacket from his torso, switching it out for the vest you had in your arms.

“It’s cold. Be grateful that I’ve gone the extra mile to lend you my beloved jacket instead of the vest. Denim’s not really your style, is it, doll?” Not knowing how to respond in a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in, your eyes scan every little detail of the metalhead’s face, trying to find some sort of ulterior motive hidden in the fine lines.

“Hey, Ed! We going or what?” The sound of Gareth’s voice shouting over to your direction from the distance interrupted your train of thought, and Eddie turned around to give the boy a thumbs up before turning back to face you, a simple nod being the last bit of “reasoning” you got from him as he spun on his heel, jogging over to the van. The two boys exchanged a few words before climbing into the vehicle and driving out of the parking lot in a matter of a single minute.

Before you could process or notice anything at all, Kace was standing at your side with his arms crossed, staring at the van as it drove out of the parking lot.

“Gareth’s cool,” you finally say, Kace angling his head to look down at you. He nodded, and you felt his eyes burning into the bulky jacket you held in your arms.

“Should I ask?” he questioned as you rolled your eyes, beginning your walk over to his Chevrolet Camaro on the other side of the parking lot, the slender boy following right behind you.

“Munson being a condescending prick as usual. It’s not even that cold.” You attempted to stifle a shiver as the breeze got one last attack in, Kace laughing as he opened the passenger door for you, allowing you to climb in before making his way around to the driver’s side of the navy blue vehicle.

As Kace got the car started up and began driving out of the parking lot, a thought finally hit you.

“Hey, why couldn’t you give me a ride to the diner earlier? If I’d known you drove today, I would’ve been able to get there at the same time as you rather than being later than literally everyone else.” Turning the car stereo on, lowering the volume majorly as The Cure began blasting through the speakers, Kace shrugged, glancing over at you in the corner of his vision.

“Dunno. Felt like being a dick.” He quietly snorted to himself as you rolled your eyes.

“I hate you.” The boy lifted his right hand over to you, lazily tousling it in your hairsprayed mane as you flicked the appendage away.

“My heart is yours too, love.” The affectionate response made your cheeks ball up as a smile spread across your lips.

Apart from the few moments where you managed to include yourself in off-topic conversations, the entire day had been long, boring, and most definitely awkward, but finally getting some quality best-friend-time in with just Kace settled the unease that had been festering in your chest all day since the moment you arrived at the diner. With your forehead dropping to rest against the car window, you idly tightened your hold around the leather item of clothing resting in your lap, pulling it against your chest as your fingers fiddled with the icy, metal zipper.

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