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wrenreid · 1 year

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Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline. "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

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boydepartment · 4 months

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valentine’s day with enhypen

a/n: yipppeeee this has been in my head for the past couple days :3 i am listening to true crime with my mom rn. i also! have been writing that valentine’s day heeseung fic :3

warnings: none- fluff!

4-5 bullet points per member

MASTERLIST

🎀jungwon🎀

- jungwon was a little awkward for the thought of valentine’s day. he flirted with engenes a lot, probably too much! however… this was real

- he had to NEEDED to impress you. so the plan was set in stone, jungwon decided to pack a picnic for you both.

- you might be thinking, it’s february- it’s too cold! jungwon thought about this, and so he was prepared.

- he ended up renting a room in a super high building and set up your “picnic”

- you both had dinner by candle light while looking at the skyline, it was super romantic and jungwon definitely impressed you

💋heeseung💋

- if you thought jungwon was nervous, heeseung was shitting his pants. i’ve always said this, heeseung is not how he is on stage- off stage. heeseung is such a loser (lovingly.)

- however… you are also a loser! (lovingly)

- heeseung decided to set up a game night with board games and video games. he bought alcohol, and a ton of fun snacks.

- you guys ended up cuddling and playing games all night, he held you in his arms and would constantly kiss your the back of your head or neck to distract you.

- you would end up roughhousing after accusing him of distracting you so he could win. all lovingly though.

🌸jay🌸

- THIS MF WAS PREPARED. he has been waiting his whole life for this. he cooked everything himself, he bought the nicest alcohol he could, and he kicked everyone out of the dorm.

- you were excited too, you brought matching pajamas and he ate those up. jay was so excited to share the day of love with you. he was giggling when you weren’t looking.

- every gift he got you was expensive and thoughtful because he listens so well to you. your voice is jay’s favorite sound.

- prepared to get spoiled even when you guys are cuddling watching a movie.

🌹jake🌹

- jake has never had a serious relationship nor was he prepared at all for valentine’s day. however he is a fantastic person when it comes to going with the flow

- valentine’s day is next week? oh no problem, he can get reservations for that restaurant you’ve been wanting to try.

- and he does! he is so lucky!!! now it was time for him to plan, his gifts are half homemade and an activity for you both to do after your walk home.

- he’s really romantic and has a hand on you the whole night, it makes him appreciate the holiday more. so the next year you are going to be MEGA spoiled. especially because you got him a collared shirt with your lipstick stain on it. that made him insane.

🩷sunghoon🩷

- “oh…”

- that’s immediately what sunghoon said when he realized he actually has a valentine this year. HE HAD NEVER HAD A TRUE VALENTINE. immediately he starts researching.

- be prepared for the classic valentines. he makes cards for you out of paper, all handmade, and he slips jewelry you’ve wanted in each heart. then he puts all the hearts with jewelry in them in a new purse.

- he shows up to your house on valentine’s day with a smile on his face. you had completely forgotten about the holiday and it made him giggle. you promised to make it up to him and he just smiles with a simple “okay baby.”

- you’d never have to make it up to him, you dating him, and living him was enough.

💌sunoo💌

- “WHAT DO I GET MY GF?”

- sunoo was stumped, he spoiled you 24/7 what was he supposed to buy you? he could get you that new skincare… or a new purse…? maybe new shoes. UGH! this was frustrating him…

- then it clicked to him. a destination valentine’s day.

- that’s how you found you and your boyfriend in new zealand for valentine’s day. he saw it was beautiful and there were fun little things to do, sunoo was all for it and so were you.

- you both took so many photos and enjoyed spending time alone together.

- sunoo even thought maybe you’d spend next valentine’s day here….

🍓riki🍓

- he called his mom, begging her for help. she wasn’t a lot of help if he was being honest. but he refused to go to jake until the very last minute.

- jake was no help either! what was he supposed to do?!

- one day you walked in and confessed that he had to be prepared for his valentine’s day present because it was homemade and you were a little insecure over it. he felt his heart melt.

- he knew exactly what he had to do. he went to different jewelers and different shops to make you your own handmade bracelet. he made sure that it wasn’t too heavy so you wouldn’t have to take it off. he made sure that all the materials wouldn’t wear over time. he worked his ass off.

- when you guys exchanged gifts he was giggling, you had made him a bracelet too. he felt so connected with you. it was his first true valentine’s day and he loved it.

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gothamslostboy · 7 months

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Can i request bones characters and their pets headcannons?

OMG YES OF COURSE YOU CAN

Brennen

She’s against pets in general but if she had to pick one she’d choose a monkey

But after researching it and realizing she doesn’t have the adequate amount of time to care for one she lets booth get a dog

Has to be one that’s known for its intelligence tho

Booth

A dog man through and through

Specifically a high energy breed he can take for runs

Also likes to play fetch with it

Teaches it tricks

Constantly gets lectures from Brennen every time he says they have the smartest dog

Wants to let it lay in the bed but Brennen says no

He sneaks the dog up after she goes to sleep sometimes

Wendell

I bet you’re thinking dog huh?

Yeah you’re right

He has a American pitbull terrier he adores

Buys her sweaters for the winter

Takes her out to those dog friendly restaurants to play with Booth’s dog while they hang out

Cam

Cat lady 100%

Either a Siamese or a hairless cat

Spoils it with toys and treats, but makes sure it stays at a healthy weight

When no one is around she speaks to it in a baby voice

Arastoo

A cat he found at his local shelter

He doesn’t know what kind of cat it is

Has to take allergy pills because he developed an allergy after he already was attached

Sweets

A hermit crab he keeps in his office

Gets an artist friend to paint new shells based on sci fi movies he likes

Before he picked a name he was calling it buddy, which just kinda stuck

Angela

Likes many animals, but not keeping them

Only got one after Michael-Vincent kept begging

Ended up getting a hedge hog

It curls up in her lap while she paints or draws

Hodgins

Has the hedgehog with Angela obviously

He lets sit on his shoulder when relaxing

Built it a fucking MASSIVE enclosure in their house

This lil thing has so much to play with it’s insane

After a year or two of owning the hedgehog, he convinces Angela to get a tortoise

Who he also spoils

Zack

He bought a beta fish one day bc he thought a pet would make him less lonely but he was scared of all the other species at the pet store

He named it Archimedes

Originally just had it in a glass bowl

Bought it a proper tank after Hodgins explained how bad that is

Hodgins also went with him to pick out things it could hide in

Daisy

Honestly I’m not really sure

Maybe a hamster when she was young

But never got another pet after it died bc she was so sad

Loves Lance’s little hermit crab though

Says hi to it every time she stops by his office

Fisher

An iguana

He brought him into work once and cam made him put it in Hodgins’ bug room

Takes it for walks

It wears a black spiked collar with its leash

Vincent

He has two ferrets and and a set of Guinea pigs

Talks to them for hours telling them all the facts that pop into his head

Carries the ferrets around his body (neck, shoulders, arms, etc)

Talks about them like they are his human children

#bones tv show #bones tv #bones show #glb bones #temperence brennan #seeley booth #wendell bray #camille saroyan #lance sweets #collin fisher #arastoo vaziri #daisy wick #angela montenegro #jack hodgins #zack addy #vincent nigel murray #bones headcanons #headcannons

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fbfh · 1 year

Text

dad!tony + stark!reader growing up/childhood hcs

wc: 1.4k

genre: fluff, a little angst, preventative hurt/comfort, family/domestic bliss

pairing: dad!tony + kid!stark!reader, gen 1 ironfam (tony, pepper, rhodey, happy) + reader

warnings: Tony loved your mom and thinks you look like her, your mom is not in the picture (open to interpretation), takes place in the early 2010s, mentions of iron man 1 - 3 and the first avengers movie, tony's a good dad, brief mentions of kidnapping/attacks/general danger, tony found out he had a kid and took you in backstory, bonding, tony's a good dad, did I mention Tony's a good dad

a/n: oh boy did this make me feel things lol. self shipping to cope hours who's with me.

@yesv01 @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @dustyinkpages @liberty-barnes

Knowing what Tony’s like

And we all know what he’s like

The odds are if you’re his kid that he did not know you existed for at least a couple years

(I also like this backstory most bc it puts you roughly in the same age group as Peter and Harley and yall already know how I feel about that)

Your mom is probably someone that caught his attention and heart during his playboy era then disappeared

A few years later

You or turn up with a very detailed letter from your mom addressed to him

And you look so much like her it knocks the air right out of him

You also look so much like him too

You have all of his sass and intelligence and mannerisms

It’s shocking at first

You probably came into his life some time after he became iron man but before the avengers were formed

Early 2010s yk

Which means you actually have a little time to settle into your new life before shit hits the fan again

You know the whole “I’m trying to break generation cycles” thing he has with Peter in homecoming??

He has that exact same talk with you

He does so much research and a fuck ton of self reflection on how to raise a kid

And really be present for them

It's a very spicy emotional time for both of you

Because he realizes he needs to deal with all the unresolved shit he's been suppressing and ignoring

And you're trying to deal with the fact that up until now, you really weren't being taken care of like you should have been

And you're both trying to deal with how scary and dangerous all of the new threats out there are as Fury presses Tony to join the avengers

But you make it work

Because Tony is not giving up on you

And he's not resting until you're totally happy and comfortable and safe with all your needs met

The first time you call him dad?????

He has to try so hard not to cry

He's just so proud of you

And he loves you so much

He gets that feeling whenever you call him dad

Even when you say it every day

Even when you introduce him as your dad

And reference him as your dad

No matter how often it happens

He never stops getting that feeling

He majorly prioritizes making sure you have a good education too

And that you’re really getting something out of it

Whatever the best solution for you is, you’ll figure it out

While I love the idea of little baby stark just showing up to class in like 3rd grade and being like “this is my dad’s old prosthetic heart it’s a miniature arc reactor he built in a cave when he was kidnapped by terrorists” then proceeding to explain to your whole class and teacher how he designed built and powered the first draft of his suit, and how the electromagnet keeps the shrapnel in his chest from killing him

Or Tony calling you in sick and you show up a few days later sunkissed with souvenirs from the gorgeous tropical island he took you to “on business”

After getting separated and having both your lives threatened during the battle of manhattan and the surrounding events

And after getting attacked (again) and not knowing you thought he was dead during the whole ordeal with Killian

He’s going to want to keep you close to him

You can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re near enough for him to keep you safe

And he can’t get kidnapped or hurt or attacked if you’re close by enough to make sure he’s really doing okay

After all the shit you’ve both been through you’ll probably both end up with a lot of anxiety and attachment issues

But he works together with you to come up with plans for pretty much everything and every eventuality

Even if you know it might not help change the fact that there will be more fights to take on in the future, having a plan for keeping you safe during them makes you both feel a lot more better

And knowing he’s planned for every eventuality takes a huge weight off Tony’s mind too

Which means he can fight even better and save the world with a little more security knowing you’re okay now, and you’re going to be okay when he’s done with whatever problem he’s dealing with

So practically speaking he’ll probably get you a private tutor

Maybe online classes or homeschooling if those end up working better

But he’ll have Pepper find him some good candidates, then grill the living shit out of them

He’ll figure out their communication styles, their teaching styles, and generally if they pass the vibe test

When he finds someone who will actually be able to help you learn, they have to train a lot before they start tutoring you

The last thing he wants is for learning to become a source of distress for you instead of a tool to empower you

Plus having a tutor he can drag along with you means you have even more freedom to jet all over the world so he can surprise you with trips without either of you worrying about you falling behind

And speaking of empowering you

There is absolutely zero chance you’re not learning self defense and how to fight

He somehow helps you skip past the “wow self defense is scary” part right into the “wow this is super empowering and I feel safer and more secure since I started learning how to do this” part

Once you fly through the ranks of a bunch of different self defense and martial arts and fighting styles

Then you start doing hero training

He makes you a suit that’s armed to the teeth

And also safety protocoled to the teeth

“For emergencies only.”

After many, many safety talks, now you get to move onto the fun part

He gets to teach you how to use it

Neither of you can deny how much fun it is learning how to blast lasers from your palms or shoot rockets out of your wrists

He literally gets to teach you how to fly

It feels magical

It really feels magical watching you

His kid

Literally learn to fly with his help

God he’s just so proud of you

He loves you so much

Between the traveling and the privacy issues and the safety concerns, anything else you do

Any skills or extracurriculars or hobbies

Will also probably be from a tutor or private instructor too

One of his love languages is gift giving

He’s really looking forward to when you’re old enough for him to just hand you a credit card so he can see what you find when you come back

But until then he gets to spoil the shit out of you

Real talk he’s not going to stop spoiling you when you’re old enough to shop for yourself anyway

He loves the way your face lights up when he surprises you with something really cool

Trips, events, gadgets he made you

Anything you could conceptually want or imagine

All he has to do is wave his magic wand and now you have hyper realistic rainbow silicone mermaid tails for when you go swimming

You have a secret reading room hidden in the back of your closet that you access by pulling a book on a shelf

He even has a toy made after you in your favorite toy line

Barbies, american girls, legos, action figures

Or whatever your favorite toy/figurine is

He surprises you with a new one that looks just like you

And you lose your shit

Because who wouldn’t

What can he say

Tony loves spoiling you

Your existence is the greatest thing he could ever hope for

You are the most important beloved cherished thing in his life

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy and well taken care of

And maybe a little pampered and spoiled

But you deserve it

You deserve to have the world handed to you

Which is exactly what he intends to do

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16bruises · 10 months

Text

Mind’s Eye

blue is (y/n)

important information for writers who use google docs

word count: 1k

A woman’s intuition *chef kiss* Part 2 of Parasocial

“What a lover’s heart knows let no man’s brain dispute.”

-Aberjhani

I think (Y/n) knows. Or suspects something at least.

I don’t know which is worse. If she knew I wasn’t of this universe… she would know something happened to her Miguel. She might even realize I did that something.

If she suspects something else… cheating? maybe… I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never. Never. I’ve crossed the multiverse for this perfect family.

Maybe she suspects some kind of addiction. That would also be bad. That would be careless, thoughtless, and selfish. That would put her and Gabriella in harm's way. I couldn’t do that.

I don’t know what she suspects. I know it’s something. I saw her looking at me, she looked confused and nervous. Almost scared.

It made me feel sick.

I don’t know what she knows. I don’t know what gave me away.

I did my research. I know all the inside jokes, the references, and the signals she and her Miguel had.

Those are ours now, and I know them by heart.

I couldn’t have missed one of them. It had to have been something else.

I know everything about Gabriella, everything about (y/n), so what?

What was it? How did she find out?

Was it when I folded the clothes- did I fold them wrong?

Was it that I couldn’t calm down Gabriella last week and I got upset?

Was it when I dropped a glass while doing the dishes?

My mind is spiraling with a thousand little moments where I could’ve acted wrong. Sounded wrong. Looked wrong.

——

Miguel fell first, and I fell harder. I’m pretty sure.

I fell so hard. But he caught me and we were perfect because we loved each other so much.

When you fall for someone so hard, you just know them. Especially after being with them for years.

I’m not completely sure when I realized something was wrong, but once I realized it... I just couldn’t undo it.

I wish I could. I wish I could live in blissful ignorance and pretend that man was my husband.

But that’s not my husband.

I don’t know who or what that is. But it’s not my husband. No matter how much it may look and sound like him.

The realization came suddenly. Like when you realize what’s just about to happen in a movie. He was laying beside me in bed.

I’ve always had this habit of watching him sleep, I used to think I was so creepy for it but I stopped thinking that when my Miguel caught me and said he’d done the same thing. He’s always been so beautiful and peaceful in his sleep. But something just clicked that night. And I knew.

I just knew.

I knew something was very very wrong and I could feel my stomach drop. It was terrifying.

Almost like he knew in that moment too, his arms tightened around me. I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. I knew too much and nothing all at once. It was very confusing.

This man, this Miguel, fell first. Just like my Miguel. But he’s falling harder too.

He’s doing both.

There’s something very beautiful and poetic about the connection between two people who deeply love each other. I love Miguel so much, he’s the love of my life, the father of my child, and my other half.

My Miguel loves so much. But he loves in a human way. A normal way.

This Miguel… He loves like he’s not human. Like he’s more. There’s too much. Almost unhealthy. Obsessive.

A few days ago he was near tears because Gabriella wouldn’t stop crying and he couldn’t calm her down on his own.

Sure, Miguel has never liked when Gabriella gets upset but he’d never gotten that sad about it.

Anytime Gabriella would get like that Miguel would always just accept defeat and let me try to calm her down, she was usually just hungry or wanted her mommy if Miguel couldn’t calm her down.

But the other night… he was so sad. He wouldn’t let me try to calm her down until he was about to be in the same state as her. I couldn’t calm her down that night either. It was a tough night for all of us.

Maybe that was the first night I started to realize, subconsciously. Gabriella wanted her Daddy, and he wasn’t there.

I… Don’t understand what’s happened to my Miguel. Where he is now. How this Miguel looks just like him, acts just like him, sounds just like him, is just like him.

Seems to know everything he knows…

Miguel was always very smart, so of course this Miguel is too. He would have to be smart to pull something like this off, right? Maybe a cloning experiment gone wrong or something?

Miguel was very hush-hush about his work. He said he had to be. I try to be understanding but I wish I hadn’t tried so hard now. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to be so understanding I’d understand what’s going on or what happened to my husband.

——

Late in the night, while (Y/n) and Gabriella are asleep I took a quick trip back to my home universe.

I don’t need to stress about the other me coming back anymore.

I checked up on the spider society, as well as my Nueva York, probably all too hastily.

I was distracted, my mind continuously drifting back to the quick, nervous looks (y/n) had been giving me.

I needed to find out what gave me away. I looked through everything. Analyzing every last detail.

Nothing.

Then suddenly something.

Like she just suddenly knew.

That’s not fair.

I did everything right.

I love her so much.

I love Gabriella so much.

I love them more.

“¿por qué soy destinado para sufrir?”

It’s ok.

I’ll go back to them. I’ll go home. To my perfect family.

And I’ll pretend.

I can pretend. I will. I’ll pretend I don’t see her looking nervously at me. I’ll keep loving her and Gabriella like my life depends on it. Because It does.

It does.

Part 3

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torukmaktoskxawng · 4 months

Note

hi, I was wondering if you could do a part to your grace lives au that’s like right after the first movie and it’s her finding out she pregnant and the aftermath of the war. No pressure of course, I would just love to see you take on what happened.😊

(Guys fr there need to be more Grace gifs)

At first, Dr. Augustine is in denial.

She noticed the signs in her body but stubbornly ignored them since it was scientifically impossible for her to be pregnant. Since she wasn't physically showing, she was able to ignore it for a long time, juggling her work, the Na'vi, and the one-year-old human boy she recently adopted. It wasn't like she could trust any of the idiot scientists who worked for her to raise a child, so she "begrudgingly" became the baby's mother.

Since Spider wasn't big enough to fit into a breathing mask, Grace had spent the majority of her days squished inside the small rooms of Hell's Gate, doing her best to raise him while also trying to continue her work. Now that she didn't have any RDA pigs breathing down her neck and monitoring all her research, she thought she'd have all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted. That is, until Spider.

It happened on one of the rare occasions Mo'at had stopped by the compound to see her old friend. The tsahik of the Omatikaya was more than happy to sit cross-legged on the ground of the lab to keep Spider company while Grace did her work. The scientist thought she'd be able to get stuff done with Mo'at keeping an eye on her son, but she was wrong.

"How long has he been doing that, Kìreysì?"

Grace looked over her shoulder to see what the tsahik meant. Spider was bent over, keeping himself steady on his hands and feet, planted on the floor while he tried peeking his head between his legs, looking up at Grace, and giggling with his cute little toothless grin.

She analyzed her son with a small smile, satisfied that he wasn't in trouble or in danger, then returned to her teeny tiny microscope, "He's been doing that for about a week now."

"Do you understand the significance?"

Grace shrugs, half distracted as she answers, "Well, back on Earth, there was a superstition. Babies who did that were said to be trying to tell their mothers they were pregnant."

Mo'at hums thoughtfully, a smile beginning to grow as she watches the little human baby in front of her continue to giggle between his own chubby legs, "Perhaps we are more alike than we originally thought. The Na'vi believe this superstition as well."

"I don't."

"Why?"

The avatar scoffed with mirth in her tone, "Because that would mean Spider thinks I'm pregnant. And I'm not."

"Are you certain?"

"I haven't been with anyone, Mo'at. It's not possible."

Mo'at rose, but not to her full height in order to avoid colliding her head against the ceiling. She crouched, shuffling her way to Grace, before offering her hands out to the other woman, "May I?"

Grace looks over her shoulder once more, clocking the tsahik reaching out to her and sighs, resigned to this conversation, "Mo'at. There's no need--"

"Indulge me, my friend."

She sighed, defeated, and turned to face the Na'vi woman. Mo'at inspects Grace with methodic, experienced healing hands, poking and prodding along the sides of Grace's breasts, and pulled away when the scientist winced from the tenderness. Mo'at eyes Grace with suspicion before moving her hands down toward the woman's stomach, below her belly button, before huffing with confidence and pulling away.

Fully facing Grace with her conclusion, albeit a bit smug, Mo'at smiled with joy and amusement as she tsked at her old friend, "Kìreysì, you claim to be a woman of practicality and yet you didn't even realize how your body was changing to make room for the life inside you."

Instead of shock, Grace went straight for defiance and denial, "No. I realize that my body is changing. I've known for a while now, but since it's not even remotely possible, I coughed it up to stress. I mean, why wouldn't it be? You know what it's like, right? To work with morons alongside doing your job and raising a child, let alone the two that you raised? Are you telling me you've never felt stressed?"

"If I recall, I went to my mate whenever I felt such stress," Mo'at eyed her with curiosity, "But you're saying you haven't gone to anyone?"

"No," Grace snarled with slight irritation, annoyed with having to repeat herself but kept her emotions semi-in check in Mo'at's presence, peering up at the ceiling to restrain herself from snapping, "I haven't been with anyone in years."

~~~~~~~~~

Despite what Grace did or didn't believe, she finally had to come to terms that she was, in fact, pregnant once her stomach visibly grew and a small fist decided to hit her from the inside. Once she recovered from freaking out over that feeling, she begrudgingly decided to admit to Mo'at she was wrong and then proceeded to let her peers and friends know the news.

"Are you serious?" Norm voiced everyone's initial thoughts, but he was the only one to voice it. Max and the other human scientists were much more afraid of confronting Grace, especially now that she was in her avatar form permanently. Nevertheless, neither Max nor any of the other scientists could hide their shock from her.

Jake, the ever-prominent little shit that he was, scoffed with a small grin, arms crossed in front of him, "So who's the lucky guy?"

Neytiri smacked her mate's arm, bouncing a newlyborn Neteyam in the sling that was strapped to her chest. The sight of her former student now with a baby only reminded Grace she was old and that her situation felt more impossible than before. How can sweet, little Neytiri now be a mother? Where has the time gone?

Despite her love for Neytiri, Grace sneered at the idiot she chose for a mate, "I'm not like you. I don't shack up with the first Na'vi I meet."

Jake loudly choked on his own spit, and despite the crudeness, Neytiri eyed Grace with a small spark of amusement. If there was one person Neytiri could rely on to put her mate in his place, it was Grace.

After Jake recovered, he voiced what everyone else was thinking, "But... then how can you possibly be...?"

"I don't know!" She snaps, swiftly handing Little Spider to Neytiri so she can lay into the jarhead she took under her wing without startling her son, "It's scientifically impossible, Jake! I don't need to have The Talk with you about the birds and the bees now, do I?"

Norm and the other scientists began to cough to hide their laughter under their breaths, especially at the horrified expression on Jake's face.

A/N: Sorry for the long post! I got carried away XD

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copperbadge · 5 months

Note

hi sam! do you have any recommendations for good sources of info for someone who'd like to learn more about cons and con artists? Any format is fine, books, podcasts, youtube, whatever, i'm just having a hard time finding a good source that really digs into and examines the actual techniques and 'mechanics' so to speak.

It is a little bit tough because of course most scammers are also self-embroidering liars :D And my education was very patchwork. For specifically cons and con artists (outside of art crime, which generally doesn't touch the con world directly) I'd advise starting with "Titanic Thompson: The Man Who Bet On Everything" by Kevin Cook, which is a biography of one of the early 20th century's most preeminent con men; it's a good tale but it also demonstrates the general life trajectory of con men, which can be pretty grim. Most cons end up in prison, and even those that don't or that get out tend to die poor and alone, because they can't stop scamming.

The Mark Inside by Amy Reading is one that I don't remember vividly but I did write a review of here, and I think it's another good starting place. (All the links following are to reviews I did.) If you've ever watched The Sting, which is a movie about con artists and also kind of a good primer, it's based on The Professional Thief by Edwin Sutherland, which is an anthropology of professional crime in the early 20th century. While technically it was written less by him than by an anonymous contact of his in the criminal underworld, that doesn't mean it's accurate per se; we only have that writer's word that any of it is true, so again, read skeptically.

I'd have to look up which piece it was because there's been a lot about her, but if you give Doris Payne a google she's another great example of a fascinating person who is just a giant liar. She paints a very vivid picture of her own career, but if you read about her later years you do realize that she's still conning everyone (she attempts to swindle at least one journalist working with her) and has nothing to show for her career, which may be a pack of lies to begin with. A lot of her stories have been fact checked and found wanting. I'd read up on the life of Victor Lustig as well; he's most famously known as the man who fraudulently sold the Eiffel Tower (twice) but I don't have a good biography offhand.

In your reading you will probably run across Han Van Meegeren, who forged Vermeers and ripped off the art world with them, then was tried for colluding with Nazis because he sold Nazis many "Vermeers" -- he had to paint a Vermeer while in prison to prove he'd forged the ones he sold the Nazis. This is a charming story but until very recently it was not widely noted that Van Meegeren was ABSOLUTELY A BIG NAZI HIMSELF. I was suckered by the story for years and I know most people were, so if you encounter media about him that does not include this fact, and you're interested in his story, look for newer scholarship.

There's a tangentially related book, "Where The Money Was" by Willie Sutton and Edward Linn, that is the semi-autobiography of a bank robber and it's very fun and funny, so despite not being directly about crime, I'd recommend that one.

The Napoleon Of Crime by Ben MacIntyre is a biography of the man who Moriarty was purportedly based on; it's sort of related rather than direct, but I recall enjoying it and there's a fascinating example of the VERY rare times when art heists are for a specific piece rather than for a specific goal.

There's a podcast called Scam Goddess that I found...enjoyable and informative, but also not very well-researched. In particular some of the earlier episodes are really poorly fact-checked. That said, she reads out letters from people writing in to discuss their scams and she talks about a lot of famous scam stories, so as long as you listen with the knowledge that she's neither a researcher nor an expert you should be okay.

Provenance by Laney Salisbury and Aly Sujo is what I'll close with, because it's about the interplay between art crime and con artistry, but it's also a strong argument for not valorizing cons; it's a documentation of how a couple of criminals out for nothing more than a quick buck really fucked up the entire system by which we authenticate art, and did insane levels of damage to genuine art scholarship. This isn't a little guy punching up against millionaire art collectors or fat cat museums, the way the narrative is often framed; art crime like this, involving forged or altered provenances, really harms art historians and the study of art.

I think the study of confidence crime and art crime is absolutely fascinating. There's a lot to learn about social engineering and society itself. But I think if I can impart to you one piece of wisdom, it's that con men are never, ever out for anyone but themselves and have no qualms or hesitations about hurting you to get what they want. The romance of con artistry often fools journalists and sophisticated researchers as well, so it's very easy to get swept up in it, but you should approach the entire genre with the attitude that everything you read has a 75% chance of being a charming work of total fiction.

On that note -- you may enjoy the short stories of O. Henry, some of which are about confidence men; I can't recommend specific titles but his fiction is very enjoyable generally, at least in my opinion.

#con artists #crime #scams

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sturniololoco · 4 months

Note

Chris having a gf with Tourettes?? What do we think

Tourettes

C.Sturniolo x fem reader

warning: Tourettes, twitching, cussing, panic, glass, blood, etc.

Just a warning, I don’t know much in this topic, so I tried to research it a bit. The lease correct me if I am wrong in the comments, but I tried my best. ♡

Y/N’s POV

Living with Tourette Syndrome has never been easy.

Sitting in quiet rooms, being in public, it all comes with people staring at me for being different. For something that I’m not even able to control.

But one thing that’s always been hard to do with Tourettes, is getting into a relationship.

I got lucky enough to have met Chris, about a year ago. He’s always very patient with me and he helps my tics stay in check.

But tonight was different.

I was having a pizza-movie night with Chris and his brothers at there house. We were all about to go and sit on the couch, and my tics were pretty calm, mainly because Chris was here.

I went to the cabinet to get a cup to our my Pepsi in, when my hands twitch and my head shot to the side.

The glass shattered all over the floor, hitting my leg as it broke. Chris came running in to see if I was ok. He looked at the floor, then looked at me.

“Y/N, you ok?” He asked me, slipping in some shoes before he walked across the kitchen.

I tried to answer but my head and hands started twitching wildly, and every time my head moved my mouth let out a “ah” sound, that I couldn’t control.

I was trying so hard to concentrate on the situation front of me, but my mind just kept going back to twitch, twitch, just do it and it’ll be fine.

but every time I looked back at the glass, I had to do it all over again to try and make it go away.

I was so lost, that I didn’t realize that Chris had come over to me, grabbed my twitching hands, and lead me to his room.

He sits me down on his bed and kneels in front of me. He grabs both my hands and starts talking,

He talks to me like nothings wrong. He doesn’t laugh at me, he doesn’t bring up the glass, he just sits there and talks to me.

“-what movie do you wanna watch ma? Nick probably already picked one.” He says.

My brain finally started hearing what he was saying as my motions started to slow down.

He’s playing with my hands while he’s talking, and the movement is distracting me.

When my tics were pretty much back to normal, I lean into him and he wraps his arms around me.

“Your okay ma.” He whispers while he leans back and gives me a kiss on the cheek. You ready to go watch a movie?” He asks.

I nod, and we walk back out to the living room.

To my surprise, the glass is already cleaned up, and Nick and Matt were sitting there like nothing happened.

“Hey you guys ready to start?” Nick asks, getting ready to press play on the remote.

“oh yeah, let’s go.” Chris reply’s, grabbing a blanket and sitting down on the couch, spreading it over both our laps while I lean into his side, and eat my pizza.

This is SO bad but I tried. No hate plz 😭😂

#sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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sxs-kav · 24 days

Text

I saw Frozen Empire, so obviously I have to talk about it. Spoilers ahead.

Also disclaimer that these are my personal feelings, so if we disagree that's okay too!

So, overall I would rate the movie as good. Not my all time favorite in the franchise, I think that will always go to the original, but I enjoyed it. The story could have used a little work in some parts, but hey, nothing is perfect.

Favorite part of this whole movie: one Dr. Raymond Stantz, hands down. He is so cute as an old man-child whose enthusiasm hasn't waned the least bit over the years. Honestly, in Afterlife he seemed like he'd become cynical, but here his true nature really rang through. And I adore him being a mentor for Phoebe and the other younger characters, while also getting into mischief with them. That little sparkle in his eye when Phoebe asks "Aren't you retired?" No, Ray is never retired, he will always be ready to suit up.

I also loved in the police station when Phoebe was standing up to Dickless Peck, Ray had this face like he was so proud, like he could see Egon in her, memories of him saying "YOUR MOTHER!" 😆

The other thing I liked about the movie was the expansion of the Ghostbusters as a business, with the research lab. First off, I love that Winston, the one who didn't even believe in ghosts when he was hired, is now almost like the CEO of the company. But also, it opens up more possibilities for this new era and allows for more playing with the world building. Though I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to put in some easter eggs for TRGB. Unless the ghosts featured were in the (*shudder*) Q5 episodes, I didn't recognize any of them from the show. Then again, I guess they're newer ghosts so that wouldn't make sense, but maybe they could have been similar kinds of ghosts. Just as a small reference.

Other favorite parts include:

-The near-lesbian romance between Phoebe and Melody

-Ray smuggling the Mini Pufts from Oklahoma (because of course he would)

-Also just the Mini Pufts in general (why are they so violent?)

-The way Ray's face lit up when Peter came to the firehouse

-Peter being proud that Ray quit smoking

-Peter's unwavering faith that Ray's idea is good and will work, and saying they all trust him

-The library ghost (did they never go back to get her???)

-Gary saying the words to the theme song

-Janine in uniform!

-Slimer eating the pizza with the posesser ghost in it

Now, onto the areas that I felt were not as strong. First of all, I found it wild that Phoebe was being ousted by everyone without any kind of fight. She's the one that started the whole thing up again, she's got the passion, she's got the brains, she's got the glasses and the curls! Her mom says a grand total of NOTHING to defend her in Peck's office, and they all just accept that she can't be a Ghostbuster anymore. Yeah, they don't want to get sued, but it's just weird to me that they don't even seem like they feel that terrible that she got benched. Callie and Trevor are very callous about the whole thing. Only Gary seems like he gives a shit, and he's not even her dad. The way Phoebe's benching ended wasn't all that satisfying either. It would have been nice for the other three to maybe struggle a little without her, realize they need her to balance the team, and try to find a way to get her back. Winston was really the one that got Peck off their backs in the end, no thanks to anyone else (also, I'm pretty sure in that scene, someone in the crowd yells 'dickless' 😆).

Side note, I really don't like Callie's character that much. I think she's self-centered and doesn't seem to care about the kids' feelings unless the situation becomes dire. Maybe she does deep down, but mostly her attitude about everything stinks. Idk, I wouldn't care if she wasn't in the movie at all.

Anyway, back to the plot. I liked the idea of Phoebe's plotline. I wish they'd gone all the way and had her and Melody kiss, I really thought that was coming when she separated from her body. But I have an issue about that particular moment. The decision to suddenly put herself in the chamber like that seemed to come out of nowhere, at least I thought so. They made it like Melody was supposed to be the one tricking her into doing it, but she really never said anything to convince her. Phoebe just decided on her own to try it. I know she mentioned a couple of times wondering what it would feel like to be a ghost, but it wasn't a strong enough buildup to such a risky move. Honestly, when she asked Ray about him wanting to be a ghost, coupled with Winston saying Ray was going to get himself killed, I thought they were foreshadowing killing Ray (and thank God they didn't!).

They also hint at Phoebe specifically being the one that needs to be used but why? Anyone could have been tricked into the chamber and been controlled by Garaka for the chanting.

But moving on from that, the other issue I have is with the firemaster. He was a little too good at controling the fire after what, a couple of hours of practice? I think the character could still work, he could still be a quirky weird guy, but I think I would have made him more of a reluctant inheritor of his grandma's powers. Maybe he struggles with it at first and he figures he can sell the artifacts to Ray to get rid of the responsibility. Then later he can finally accept his fate to help beat Garaka when he starts believing in himself.

Those are the only major parts that I felt could have been tweaked. Besides that, I would have loved to see Slimer and Ray get a moment, just as a nod to their friendship in the show, but I guess they want to stick to one continuity. Of all the things they could have referenced from the show, though, it had to be the Junior GB 😆 It was just a throwaway line, but still, I don't want to remember they were a thing.

Tl;dr, the movie was good and there were a lot of parts I really enjoyed. For the parts that were weak, I'm confident there will be another in the future, so hopefully they'll keep improving.

Also, who the hell voted for Peck to be mayor? I bet he rigged the election.

#ghostbusters #frozen empire #peter venkman #ray stantz #egon spengler #winston zeddemore #phoebe spengler #janine melnitz

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alwaysbethewest · 4 months

Text

Kingsman 2 fic: Stay Close to Me

Happy @pedrostories Secret Santa day, y'all 💃 I was thrilled when I received my assignment and saw that I'd be writing for my sweet friend @iamskyereads 😁 Skye, I hope you have a merry Christmas and I hope this little story helps make it bright. (Okay a quick note: generally speaking I don't believe in apologizing for your writing, but I do feel like a small apology is merited here. Halfway through writing this fic I started to panic because I felt like I wasn't really meeting the brief of your prompt 😬 I started wondering if I should start over from scratch but I was already too far into it. I accidentally wrote you... a case fic???? With a smidgen of romance sprinkled in. I'm sorry! Despite my stress over that realization I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy it anyway!)

Title: Stay Close to Me Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)/f!Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 5.3k Content/warnings: Fake/undercover marriage! Statesman casefic! A little romance, kissing, coarse language, very mild peril and hurt/comfort, and a splash of alcohol. Reader is a junior agent and has some muscle but otherwise no physical/age descriptions. As with any good Kingsman fic, my first step was to disregard half of canon, so this is either pre-movie or an AU. Unbetaed but thanks as ever to @fleetwoodmactshirt and @mourningbirds1 for their hand-holding ❤️ Please let me know if you spot any typos/mistakes.

The Statesman offices are housed in a sleek highrise in Midtown, a 40-minute commute from your tiny apartment. To anyone who asks, you work in the marketing department, and you’ve learned enough by now to drone on about synergistic strategies for diversifying market shares to bore anyone listening, but to those in the know, behind passcode-guarded doors, you’re Agent Violette, junior analyst for the private intelligence agency hidden behind the national whiskey brand.

For a secret spy job, your work is actually fairly routine. Most of your time is spent doing research and compiling intel for agents working out in the field. Occasionally your boss sends you into the field yourself—little baby excursions to get your feet wet—and you won’t pretend you haven’t enjoyed the thrill. But your desk job is comfortable, and satisfying, and you’ve got no complaints.

It’s Wednesday, and the only sign something out of the ordinary may be taking place is the note you find on your desk when you clock in. It takes only a little of your codebreaking expertise to interpret:

9:15 AM—mtg w/ Agt. C rm 806

Room 806 is a teleconference room furnished with a small table and a handful of chairs. One seat is occupied when you get there.

Agent Whiskey raises an eyebrow at you from under his cowboy hat. The accessory is so out of place in the urban streets of New York City that when you’d first met him you’d wondered if it was an affectation—a marketing ploy to signal the authenticity of the Kentucky bourbon your company sells on the side. But while you haven’t worked closely with him, you’d quickly learned it seems he’s just… like that.

He slides a folder towards you and you accept it as you take a seat and don your glasses.

“Any idea what this is about?” he asks.

You shake your head. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the comms switch on and Agent Champagne appears across the table before you, via the technological wonder that is your projection spectacles. More high-tech and more secure than Zoom, they’re one of the many things that sets Statesman apart from lesser spy agencies.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Whiskey straighten up slightly in his chair.

“Jack!” Agent Champagne greets him. “How was Munich?”

“All good, sir,” he drawls. “You’ll have the full report this afternoon.”

“Very good,” the older man rumbles. He turns his attention to you. “And Agent, uh—” His eyes shift down to the notes on his desk. “Agent Violette. Good to have you on board.”

You’ve worked at Statesman for three years, but you’re still too low on the org chart to have landed on the director’s radar before this. He says your code name like vie-oh-let instead of the French pronunciation you prefer, but there’s an affability to him that makes it go over easier.

“Thank you, sir.”

“So, California,” he says, diving into the brief. Whiskey opens his file folder and you follow suit. The top page features a short itinerary and a character profile that you quickly learn is a new undercover alias. Violet Davenport. You like the name. She sounds high society. Glancing over to Whiskey’s file, you spot his alias and your brows raise involuntarily.

Johnny Davenport.

Hm.

“Vineyard owner out there is concerned about a potential theft. He’s received some threats and needs a couple of bodies on the ground to sniff out the trouble,” Agent Champagne states.

“Theft of what, exactly?” Agent Whiskey asks.

“Wine. Money. The usual. He’s got his personal wine collection stored on the premises. You know the business—some of those bottles are worth a pretty penny. Mr. Peterson—that’s the client—says he has a list of suspects for you to look at.” Champ waves a hand, looking vaguely unimpressed. “Obviously you’ll have to use your own judgment on whether any of his theories check out.”

“Sir, I don’t understand why I’m being sent on such a simple assignment,” Whiskey says. “No disrespect,” he adds belatedly, glancing at you. You give him your politest go-along-to-get-along smile.

Champ looks like he’s torn between amusement or annoyance at Agent Whiskey’s attitude.

“Same reason for anything, Jack. Politics. This client has close connections in the state government over there. If we can solve this simple problem for him, it may just lead to more prestigious cases. Ones you’ll feel are worthy of your valuable time.”

Jack should look chastened, but he doesn’t. He does stop arguing, though.

“I need a senior agent on the case. And Violet’s supervisor assures me she’s got the research and fieldwork skills to step up on this one. Your cover is a married couple on an anniversary trip, so I’m basically sending you on a paid vacation, here. There’s more information in the files you’ve got.”

Whiskey flips through the pages half-heartedly and gives a curt nod.

“Well!” Agent Champagne slaps his hands on the table decisively. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Mazel tov!” With that he ends the transmission.

And that’s how you find yourself at the airport Friday morning with a diamond ring on your left hand and a disgruntled cowboy by your side.

The flight lands in San Francisco without incident, and Jack shifts into doting husband mode as you head to pick up the rental car the agency has reserved. He reaches for your suitcase to load it into the trunk.

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”

You give him a saccharine-sweet smile. “I’ve got it, hon.”

You lift the heavy bag with ease and watch his mouth purse for a second before he smiles back.

“I guess my baby’s stronger than she looks.”

The bored-looking attendant sees you off and Jack has you punch in the GPS destination while he eases into the busy freeway traffic. He’s a confident, slightly impatient driver, but you see him relax once you’re over the bridge and sailing smoothly north on Interstate 80.

“So what’s our game plan?” he asks as highway signs for Napa begin to appear, and you reach for your notebook and flip it open.

There’s only one bed.

You probably should have done the math on this as soon as Agent Champagne declared you a married couple, but in the whirlwind of arranging to leave town and the anxiety of stepping into your biggest field operation to date, it hadn’t occurred to you to worry about the precise nature of your accommodations.

Jack sets his bags down and flops onto the bed, letting the soles of his cowboy boots dangle off the end. It’s an exaggerated display of exhaustion, but you’re tired too after a seven-hour flight and another two hours in the car. His lanky body takes up the whole length of the bed and you try not to let your eyes linger as you contemplate the sleeping arrangements.

He picks up on your hesitation.

“This is where I’m supposed to do the gentlemanly thing and let you have the bed all to yourself, huh? Sorry, sister, not gonna happen.” His tone softens. “But I promise I don’t bite. There’s no reason we can’t share.”

The only couch in the room is a small, overstuffed loveseat that you can tell at a glance neither of you would enjoy reclining on for long. So you do the mature thing and agree to sleep with him.

Not like that.

Bill Peterson, the agency’s client, is one of those people who claim to be easygoing while in reality they exude nonstop nervous energy.

“I know exactly who it is,” he tells you in a hushed voice. You and Jack are in his office, under the guise of a private tour of the winery. Peterson has been going over what you already know from the file: that he has a high-value collection of wine held on the estate, as well as a hard drive storing what he’ll only describe as “sensitive” material; that he’s received several vague threats recently; and that with the hustle and bustle of harvest season upon them, he’s concerned his regular security won’t be sufficient to stop the would-be thieves.

“Oh?” you say. “Well, that will be very helpful, Mr. Peterson.”

“Okay,” he amends. “Maybe not exactly, but I can give you a list. Of suspects.”

“We’ve seen the list,” Jack tells him. “But what is it that makes you suspect these folks in particular?”

“They’re mostly other winery owners,” Peterson says. “Everyone on that list was present at a party I attended a few months ago where I—let slip some details about my collection. It was only after that the letters started.”

You and Jack exchange a glance. You’re both wondering if “let slip” isn’t code for “bragged loudly.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t gone to the police?” you ask. His eyes narrow.

“I value discretion,” he says tightly. “Anyway—I’m not sure they’d consider the threats actionable.”

“Can we see them?” Jack asks.

“Of course.” He retrieves a small stack from his desk drawer. You and Whiskey put your heads together to pore over them.

They’re all written by one person, in slanted, blocky handwriting.

YOU WILL PAY.

YOU WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.

YOUR EMPIRE WILL CRUMBLE.

WE WILL CRUSH YOU.

“Is there another one?” you check. “There are five envelopes but only four notes.”

Peterson hesitates, then shrugs and shakes his head. He’s lying, but you don’t push it.

“There is one other thing,” he says. “I keep seeing this blue truck—but it’s like he doesn’t want to be spotted. I see it slow down like he’s scoping out the place, but then he speeds off as soon as he sees I’ve noticed. I tried to get the license plate but it was covered in mud.” He scoffs. “We haven’t had any rain in months.”

Jack has him describe the vehicle and where he’s seen it, while you take notes.

“Alright, Mr. Peterson. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”

“Thank you. Oh—here.” He hands you a pair of vouchers for a free wine tasting. “They come with the tour. One thing you should know about Napa—you’ll only really blend in if you’ve got a glass of wine in your hand.”

Jack’s code name is Whiskey for a reason. He’s a spirits man through and through and he doesn’t give the tasting room a second look, ushering you out to get back to your room to regroup. Admittedly, it’s only 10 AM, but you would have enjoyed a few sips of merlot. You’re craning your neck a little to look at the wine list posted by the door—just out of curiosity—when he startles you by taking your hand in his. You look at him. He’s staring ahead, holding your hand like it’s nothing as you walk side by side. Finally, your brain catches up and your nine credits of college acting classes kick in and you plaster a loving smile onto your face, leaning closer.

In the privacy of your little rented cottage, you pull out your notes again to review.

“Peterson is lying about something,” you start. Jack nods distractedly.

“Yeah—listen, before we get into that, I need to ask you. You jumped when I held your hand back there,” he observes.

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. He’s calling you out on your inexperience, the rookie agent who can’t even play-act for a simple assignment. You can do it, you know. Being undercover in the field is just still new to you. He could help you instead of being critical.

“Sorry—”

“It’s my opinion,” he says, with a slight frown, “that a man who doesn’t treat his wife a certain way is no man at all.”

You’re lost, suddenly. “Sorry?”

“What I’m askin’ is, do I have your permission to touch you like you’re my wife when other people are around?”

Oh.

Something about the way he’s worded it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“Oh. Yes. Touch me like…?” You swallow. “Like how, exactly?”

He gives you a steady look.

“Intimately.”

That’s fine. You’re fine with that.

“Right. That’s—” you nod, maybe a little too emphatically. “That’s okay.”

You look down, fingering the pages of your notebook again, trying to refocus on the more analytical side of the job, when another thought occurs to you.

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt.

“Shit, Violet, that’s part and parcel of it.”

“It’s Violette,” you tell him with a frown.

“Sorry.”

“Do you even know my real name?”

“Of course I do,” he says. You don’t push it but you also don’t know whether to believe him. He’s shown little interest in working with you this entire week.

Jack takes a step towards you.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says. “So you don’t jump like a rabbit when I do it in public.”

You take a breath. Suck your bottom lip between your teeth involuntarily.

“Okay,” you tell him.

Your eyes fall shut as he leans in. You feel his fingers steadying your chin, tilting your face to meet his, and then his lips touching your mouth, light, tentative—teasing, your mind prompts, and the thought makes you feel flushed again. When you don’t shy away he presses closer and you’re not sure which of you is to blame when your lips part and his tongue brushes yours.

You were expecting it, so you don’t jump, but you feel a little trembly when he pulls away. He doesn’t step back right away—instead, his lips hover over your skin, mustache coarse against your soft cheek, as he tucks his mouth by your ear and quietly, intimately, says your name.

“So you think Peterson is lying,” he says, picking up the thread from before.

“Um,” you say, forcing your brain to switch back to work mode. Your whole body feels warm. “Yes. Don’t you think he seemed shady?”

Jack shrugs. “Call me jaded, I think most people are shady. But I agree with you. He lied about the missing letter. I fuckin’ hate when clients do that. What do you think about the blue truck he saw?”

“I think that could be something.”

You open your laptop and with a few keystrokes you’ve used a Statesman backdoor into the DMV system, where you enter the make, model, and color of the vehicle Peterson had described. There are no matching hits within Napa County, so you expand the search. It’s an unpopular color, so there are only a few dozen matches in the state. None of the owners’ names are on the list of suspects you’ve been given.

“He said he hasn’t seen it around town, only driving by his property. And we don’t know who owns it. So how do we find the car?” you wonder.

Jack is silent for a minute. You watch as a slow smile spreads across his face.

“I have an idea.”

This case originated at Statesman’s Kentucky headquarters, so Agent Ginger Ale is your tech liaison. It’s clear from their dynamic that she and Agent Whiskey have worked together before. Having her voice in your ear is a source of comfort as you carry out Jack’s great idea—which you’re not 100% sure you’re on board with.

“Don’t you need some kind of license to operate this?” you ask tentatively.

“Technically, on paper, he has one,” Ginger offers. “Well, Johnny Davenport does, anyway. As of twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s a balloon and a basket, how complicated could it be,” Jack grouses. This doesn’t exactly raise your confidence.

“Just don’t crash this one, Jack,” she pleads.

“This one?!”

He shakes his head. “You have one helicopter fail on you and they never let you live it down. Don’t listen to Ginger.”

To his credit, Jack pilots the hot air balloon much more smoothly than you’d expected, and after some time you feel yourself relaxing and enjoying the view. It’s early October and the landscape is a mix of green and brown from the last of the summer heat. Tidy rows of grape vines are bordered by houses and larger wineries, copses of trees, and fields dotted with grazing cows. Tiny workers move methodically among the vines, busy harvesting fruit to be pressed and fermented. Through it all, highways and winding roads run alongside the properties, and this is where you refocus your attention.

Ginger has programmed your binoculars to register any vehicles matching the description of the blue truck you’re seeking. You train the lenses on the backroads and driveways, looking for private hiding places it could be stashed.

The whole endeavor feels like a long shot, and you’re just on the verge of suggesting you give up and head back to base when the binocs let out a high-pitched beep of recognition, zooming in on your target.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. “I can’t believe this worked.”

“I told you it would,” Jack says, looking smug. “What is that place?”

Ginger has looked up the coordinates before you have a chance to do it yourself.

“It’s a winery… Double Loop Vineyards. Do you guys know that name?”

You recognize it immediately. The owner is one of the names on Bill Peterson’s list of suspects.

You and Jack exchange a look.

“Guess we’re goin’ wine tasting at Double Loop,” he says, and he turns to start your descent.

The tasting room at Double Loop Vineyards is a large, tastefully decorated space that looks like it was converted from an old barn. It’s all dark wood and ceiling beams, and a bar runs along the back and right side walls. When you and Jack step inside, you’re greeted by a tall young woman with a pixie haircut and striking cheekbones. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Eva.

You settle in front of her at the bar and she pulls out a pair of glasses and pours a splash of white into each to get you started. You take a sip and peruse the small menu on the bartop.

“She’ll have the red flight,” Jack says, “And I’ll just have a glass. Can you recommend me something… full-bodied?”

As he says it he palms your hip suggestively, pulling you to him a little closer. You laugh, mortified but amused despite yourself, and he shoots you a wink.

Eva takes it in stride. “I can offer you a cabernet sauvignon that’s got legs for days.”

“That’ll do me just fine, thank you.”

You’re the only visitors in the tasting room for the moment so you have her undivided attention. She’s skilled at making small talk to keep you charmed and at ease; eventually she asks something more personal.

“So I’m planning to propose to my girlfriend soon,” she tells you. “And I’m trying to figure out how to do it. I’m like crowdsourcing ideas. You two are such a cute couple—can I ask how you got engaged?”

You and Jack exchange a glance and you give him a sweet smile. “You tell it, honey.”

“Well,” he says, keeping his eyes on you for a long moment before he finally looks away to face Eva, “I knew I wanted to marry her, and I had this whole plan in mind. I wanted something special for my Violet so I was going to take her on a trip—my buddy has this little cabin on the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen—and make her favorite dinner, and sit down with a glass of something nice. And then I was going to present her with this beautiful piece of hand-carved wood that spelled out, Will. You. Marry. Me.”

He pauses to take a sip of his cab while Eva says, “Aww,” and looks at you like, what a sweet partner you have.

“Now the thing is,” he continues, warming up to the story, “as Violet can tell you herself, I have never carved a single thing in my life. And somehow, like a dumbass, I was convinced I could make this plaque and do it perfectly. But it looked just awful. And it was taking me so long trying to get it right I could tell she was starting to wonder if I was stringing her along.”

You shake your head in protest and he laughs. “You were! You’d look at me like, why has this fool not married me yet.”

Eva laughs, too. “So what happened?”

Jack lets out an aggrieved sigh. “What happened was, I caught the flu. Just the most dog-sick, pathetic man, all sweaty with fever and miserable to boot. And Violet never hesitated, she bundled me up and cooked me soup and tolerated my whining and she’d read me to sleep when my eyes couldn’t even focus on the TV. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I thought, I need to hold on to this woman forever, and I asked her right then and there.”

His voice cracks a little on the last sentence and you’re shocked to realize your own eyes are damp with tears. You’re not sure which part, or how much, but something in that story sounded true and it’s left you with a strange sense of heartache. You lift his hand to your mouth and press a kiss across his knuckles, watching his face soften.

“Okay,” Eva says. “So I guess I’ll add ‘get the flu’ to my list of ideas.”

“I don’t recommend it,” Jack tells her, “but I don’t not recommend it.”

As you finish your flight and Eva rings up a couple of bottles you’ve chosen to purchase—you’re not sure if these classify as company expenses, but you enjoyed them enough you’ll pay out of pocket if you must—she asks where else in the wine country you’ve been to so far.

“We spent some time at the winery right next to the place we’re staying—actually, we got to meet the owner there, what was his name, baby?”

You keep your tone casual, but you watch her face as you reply. “Bill Peterson, I think it was?”

Eva’s expression falters, just for a moment, before she recovers and plasters on a polite smile. “They’ve got a great pinot noir over there.”

“Not as good as these,” you tell her, just to see her smile turn genuine.

A tour group walks in just then so you take your leave and step outside into the late afternoon sunshine. When Jack takes your hand this time you let him, and you don’t mind it.

The blue truck is parked out back. You walk along the side of the building, just a pair of happy tourists slightly buzzed on red wine out to take in the view, until you get close enough to make note of the license plate. Back in your own car, you run a search on it and identify the owner: a young man named Lucas Trent. The address on the registration is in Paso Robles, a town 250 miles south of here, but you do some digging and find he’s a vineyard worker at Double Loop.

“So what’s the connection to Peterson?” Jack wonders.

“Look at this.” You point at the screen and he squints. “He’s only been at Double Loop for six months. Before that—”

“He worked for Peterson,” Jack finishes. “So he’s mad about getting fired and wants to get back at his old boss.”

“Maybe,” you say, frowning. “We don’t really know yet. But it’s a theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” he insists.

The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, mulling it over.

“Tell me this, rookie,” he says. “You ever been on a stakeout?”

On your first ever stakeout that evening, you quickly learn a few things:

Stakeouts are cold. Stakeouts are boring. And rental cars are not designed to accommodate them.

You shift uncomfortably for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

“How do we even know he’ll show up tonight?” you ask. In the quiet of the night you keep your voice hushed.

“Call it intuition,” Jack says. You can tell he hates sitting still this long, too, but he’s clearly built up a tolerance for it over the years, because he’s not wriggling around nearly as much as you.

“Can I ask you something?”

He grunts an assent.

“That story about how you proposed—how did you come up with that?”

He pauses.

“I just—made it up,” he says.

“I thought it seemed…” you start. He gives you a sidelong glance. “Never mind. You’re a good improviser.”

After a minute, he says, “I was engaged once. A long time ago.”

“Oh.” You bite your cheek, holding back your questions.

“She died,” he adds. Your heart drops.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course,” you say, helplessly.

Never in your life have you been more grateful to see a criminal approaching than when you see the familiar shape of Lucas Trent’s blue truck appear down the road.

“Ha,” Jack says, looking a little less glum. “What’d I tell you. Intuition never fails me.”

You take deep, silent breaths, trying to control your fast-beating heart as you creep behind Jack to follow Lucas inside the building. He’s got a key to Peterson’s winery; he must have stolen it before he left the job, you think. He heads down the hall, past Peterson’s office, and disappears behind a door.

Jack motions for you to wait a moment, listening intently outside the door. You hear nothing but the quiet thump of Lucas’s footsteps, growing fainter until there’s only silence, and finally Jack eases open the door. You’re faced with a short flight of stairs heading down into a cellar. The two of you tiptoe down the stairs.

You nearly bump into Jack at the bottom when he stops dead in his tracks, still hidden in the shadows. Peering around him, you see that Lucas isn’t alone in the room. Bill Peterson is here, too, standing next to a small wooden desk.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bill demands. Lucas stares at him sullenly. “You came here to steal from me, didn’t you? You didn’t think I’d be down here.”

“I just want what’s mine,” the young man growls. “You’re the thief, not me.”

Lucas steps further into the room, toward the back wall. The space is filled with racks of carefully preserved wine bottles—Peterson’s precious collection, you register—and a pile of empty wooden barrels, stacked two high.

“Those bottles are insured,” Peterson calls after him. “You’ll get caught if you try to sell them.”

Lucas says nothing, just continues walking until he reaches the wall. At the back of the cellar, he pushes aside a tapestry to reveal a combination safe embedded in the wall. He glances over his shoulder with a smirk, and punches in the code.

“How the fuck do you know that number?” Peterson roars, finally scared. He rushes past the racks of wine, suddenly worthless compared to whatever is on the flash drive Lucas has just retrieved from the safe. When they start to tussle over it, Jack finally steps in.

“Hey!” he yells, striding into the light. The men look over, startled, and then Peterson looks relieved. He lets go of Lucas, seemingly confident that his hired security will take care of the situation, and retreats to stand next to Jack.

“Get that back from him,” he tells him. Jack gives him a long, unimpressed look, and then turns his focus on Lucas, who’s starting to look slightly panicky now that he’s outnumbered.

“Listen, son. This will all go a lot easier if you just put that back where you found it and walk out of here with me.”

“You don’t understand,” Lucas protests. “He’s stealing from everyone. This is the proof.”

Peterson shifts on his feet, looking guilty. “Bullshit,” he says. “You resent me for being the boss, but I’ve worked for every penny I’ve got.”

Lucas lets out a humorless, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, you work real hard. You must break a sweat making copies of your accounts so you can lie about the numbers. I bet you have blisters on your hands from shortchanging your workers.”

Jack makes a mistake here—he takes his eyes off the suspect to look at Mr. Peterson in a new light, trying to gauge which of them is telling the truth. And in that split second, to your horror, Lucas hurtles forward and shoves the stacked wine barrels, hard, knocking both Jack and Peterson onto the ground.

You make a mistake, too, and he gets on your case about it afterwards. You let Lucas slip past you in your rush to reach Jack’s side. He looks dazed and angry and his legs are trapped under the hundred-pound barrel. Gathering your strength, you lift it off of him and set it upright, then fall to your knees to check him over.

“Jack! Are you alright?” You feel carefully along his legs, then gently at the back of his head, running your fingers over his scalp to check for bumps or bleeding.

“I’m okay,” he mutters. “I didn’t hit my head.” But he winces as you help him up, and he’s moving a little gingerly when he takes a step. “Might’ve tweaked my ankle,” he admits.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Peterson yells. “You let that little shit get away with my property.”

“Let me ask you this, Mr. Peterson,” Jack growls. “Was it true what he said, about the double accounts?”

“I don’t see how that matters,” he insists angrily. “I hired you to do a job, and I expected a lot better.”

“I’ll tell you why it matters,” Jack tells him. “I don’t work for people who lie to me. Consider the contract dissolved. You can get your ‘property’ back on your own.”

“Actually, you got lucky, Mr. Peterson,” you call back over your shoulder as you help Jack walk over to the stairs. “If we had gotten our hands on that drive, we would have been obligated to turn it over to the IRS. Statesman has connections in the government, too, you know.”

And with that, you leave him sputtering and pale, alone with his precious wine.

It’s 3 AM when you get back to the room. Jack’s ankle isn’t broken, just twisted. You’d made him wait in the car while you stopped at a 24-hour convenience store to get ice on the way, so now you get him tucked into bed with his foot elevated and a baggie of ice draped over his ankle. He’s clearly still peeved over how things went down with Peterson, but he also looks amused watching you play nursemaid for him.

“You know, I’ve been hurt a hell of a lot worse than this before,” he tells you. “I can take care of myself.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “Getting badly injured isn’t the brag you think it is,” you counter. “And… you shouldn’t have to take care of it alone. That’s what I’m here for. I know you think I’m just a rookie, but—for this job, we’re partners, right?”

He’s silent for a beat, but then he nods.

Jack is still awake and waiting for you when you return from the bathroom in your pajamas. As you climb into your side of the bed, he says, “I don’t think you’re just a rookie. You did a good job on this case.”

The room is dark but there’s moonlight streaming in through the window, casting a beam of light across his face on the pillow. He’s looking at you. You look back.

“Thank you,” you tell him finally.

“Thanks for the ice,” he returns. He lets out a sigh as his eyes drift shut, and as you follow suit you feel his hand reach out and intertwine with yours.

“G’night, Violet,” he murmurs.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

He laughs, and you grin in the dark, and you hold on tight.

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift23 #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal #kingsman fanfiction #my fic #fanfiction

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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You obviously don't have to post this if you don't want to but age regressor feral:( (I am ALSO autistic and an age regressor.)

Simon is probably such a good caregiver. Carries feral around however they ask, piggyback, bridal, on his hip. They ask, it's happening. Probably has cooked with feral on his hip more than once, them babbling his ear off as he nods and hums along.

Loves feral with all his heart and wants them happy, and stops at nothing to show it. And if that means he has to buy all of the original Barbie, Monster High, Bratz, Blues Clues, etc movies/shows/dolls. It's happening.

(in the og Barbie movies, I've noticed that while they reuse names and models for the girls, most won't receive the same name other than Barbie. Simon has also noticed after watching so many and is always confused on who's who even tho feral knows.)

This man spends a whole lot of money on TV subscriptions a year just to make sure Feral has a constant supply of cartoons and shows. Will probably sometimes turn on one in the morning if he has to leave for a few hours so feral doesn't wake up to a quiet house and can just slip right into whatever headspace they need until he gets home. (Sometimes regressors find comfort in horror flicks too, and while Simon doesn't understand how, he indulges nonetheless)

Lets feral call him whatever nickname or title they find necessary (or funny), he finds it endearing and unbelievably cute. There's no way he'd ask them to stop.

Helps them do their hair in the morning. It's just too much for feral to deal with in the morning so he sits them on a comfy chair in front of a mirror and listens to them talk as he does their hair. (Has spent SOOOO much time on YouTube and Google researching hair types and styles, he's basically a professional at this point.)

Tea parties in the sun porch<3

Sits with feral on the couch going through Amazon or Etsy to pick stuff out for them for when they regress. Nothing gets set to their house, Simon has a PO box or something set up, so sometimes feral has to wait a bit longer to get things. And sometimes has to wait until their birthday, holiday, or a special occasion to get the item. It's torture to wait 😔 but then probably forgets until they receive it.

I didn't even realize how much I've been talking 🫢 just been rambling 😭😭 I hope that's okay! Also, if not taken could I please be 🐧 anon, either way thank you so much for dealing with my long rambling 🫶🫶

Hey no need to apologize! Since this is something I’m not comfortable with writing because I’m unfamiliar and don’t want to be offensive or misrepresent, I think this is a nice little compromise for anyone that would like to see this content in the au. Thank you for sharing!

And yes, welcome to the party 🐧!!!

#asks #age regression #thoughts™️#fanfiction #reader fic #keeper ghost #kept pet ghost #keeper/kept au

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alpaca-clouds · 4 months

Text

Okay, let me explain!

Okay, you know what? Given that at least one person (hey there, @vengencefilledwriter) say after my shitpost yesterday, that they wanted to read about this... let me talk about how I very randomly started shipping Astarion with Themberchaud.

Because, yes. It is a crack ship in many ways. However, I will maintain that it actually totally makes sense.

And yes, Themberchaud is the chubby dragon from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. I kinda talked about him a bit before (but tumblr search cannot be assed to show that to me), so...

See, me shipping the two arose from Wishing Well, the Astarion-centric longfic I am writing right now (which is also the sequel to Voice of the Voiceless). The story takes place about a year after the end of BG3 and centers around Astarion and Tav finally visiting the other vampire spawn, who in this have simply settled the Grymforge, after it was abandoned by the duergar.

Given the story takes place completely in the Underdark and features a conflict centered around the duergar, I thought it would be a fun little thing to have Themberchaud show up at some point as a cameo.

Yeah, I thought wrongly.

Because then I started the research on Themberchaud, and oh boy, let me tell you guys, this dragon is actually such a poor little blorbo who in truth just needs a big ol' hug!

Yes, yes, I see you there, muttering: "But red dragons are chaotic evil." To which I just say: "Sssssssh! Listen!"

Themberchaud...

Okay, even if you play DnD there is a very high chance that you never really encountered Themberchaud, because he is kinda locked into one place: Gracklstugh. The duergar city in the north of the underdark. And while the movie kinda plays his fatness as cute and funny, actually it is in his case super tragic!

See, Themberchaud is a slave. Because the duergar's masterful weapons can only be created in dragonfire, which is why for so many hundreds of years they have held themselves a dragon slave. The current one is Themberchaud.

Of course, given that dragons by nature have a rather big ego, they know well enough to not let him know that he is a slave. He has all the servants he wants, gets gold for his hoards and unlucky adventurers to feast on, and all they ask of him in return is that he keeps their forges running.

Well, and just to make extra sure that he plays along, they use some of the psychic powers they have gotten from their millennium of illithid enslavement to keep him content.

The fact that he got fed so much without having to hunt for it, is what made him so fat. And in fact that came as a bonus for the duergar, because the fact is, that Themberchaud has become so fat that he could no longer leave his hoard and hence very unabel to flee or fight back.

But dragons get stronger as they age and as such it becomes harder and harder to keep him controlled. Which is why he was supposed to suffer the same fate as all the other dragon slaves before: Get killed.

Something went wrong however. We just do not know what. Only that for some reason by the time the movie takes place, Themberchaud has somehow managed to escape Gracklstugh. But something is very clearly wrong with him. Because for one, he does not seem to have any capacity for reason in the movie - and also... his dragonfire somehow does not work. And remember: The duergar kept him for his fire.

Now, maybe his mind got just melted away by the psychic magic. Who knows. But yeah, that is the backstory there.

Okay, did I successfully get you invested in the story of the poor dragon? Yeah?

Hopefully. Let me just talk about why I ended up shipping him with the sad vamprie boy. Which kinda brings me back to why Themberchaud did not just remain a cameo in Wishing Well. Because I was planning the story and hence researching, I realized something: Astarion and Themberchaud are weirdly similar.

They both were slaves for around two hundred years and barely know anything but slavery.

Their respective masters used mindcontrol of them, which would logically lead to them both having trouble to even know who they are. Were they begin and the mind control end.

Both of them were abused by their masters through food. While Astarion was starved, Themberchaud was overfed. But both is still abuse through food!

Their enslavement ended through some circumstance (which for Themberchaud is still unknown) the plan of their respective masters to kill them failed.

Throughout their enslavement they were kept from the sun. (Note: While it is not explicitly said for Themberchaud that he wants to escape the underdark to see the sun, there is some implication for that.)

Like, those are actually fairly strong parallels. Something that undoubtedly was not intended by anyone, because I kinda doubt anyone at Larian even had Themberchaud in mind, when they were creating Astarion.

Never the less: Those are parallels.

And those parallels made me decide against the Themberchaud cameo......... in so far that instead of being a cameo, he literally becomes the sixth ranger in Wishing Well. Because he and Astarion pretty much talk to each other for like 1 hour and instantly are like: *scream* "BESTIES!!!" With Astarion afterwards being very unwilling to abandon the big dragon once more.

I will spare you the shenanigans that happen afterwards, but let me just put it like this: When they get granted a wish, Themberchaud gets turned into the more handy form of a dragonborn, which allows him to travel to the surface world. Because, you know, see the sun for himself.

Yes, yes, I hear you once again: "But that is just what happens in your fic!" Which, yes, sure. You are right. But you know what?

I still totally think that the two of them would totally at least platonically hit it off if they were ever going to meet. Because they just are so darn similar in their dramatic backstories as runaway slaves whose masters were trying to kill them.

Like, just look at all the bonding potential there!

What I love about it too, is that it has Astarion in the role of a caretaker for someone. Like, people (well, mostly Tav) took care of him, when he needed it and now he is capable to support someone else who has lived through similar shit.

You understand me? ALL THE HURT/COMFORT POTENTIAL!!! JUST LOOK AT ALL THE POTENTIAL?

And yes, in case you are wondering: No, Astarion does not break it off with my Tav in that stuff. Because polyshipping is a thing xD And that polycule is already just a bit bigger.

And, just... Look people. I JUST WANT MY BLORBOS TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER, ALRIGHT?! *feral*

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #crack ship #astarion #astarion ancunin #themberchaud #astarion x themberchaud #astarion x tav x themberchaud #polyamory #dungeons & dragons #dnd #dragons #shipping

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year

Text

Mercilessly

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a heroic, green-eyed hunter, but now, not much of him and his emerald eyes are left after he made a grave mistake and broke the wrong girl’s heart, leaving her empty behind. Y/N, however, is dressed for revenge and ready to take back what once belonged to her...

Warnings: +18!, language, smut (fingering, p in v, dirty talk & slight degrading), canon-level violence, a lot of evil scheming & some dark fluff

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: First time I’m daring to write Demon!Dean. This has been on my writer’s wish list for goddamn ages. Written for my wonderful bestie’s @avanatural‘s 1,000 followers celebration & antagonist challenge. 😈 You and your stories completely amaze me, so here’s to 1,000 more! Collect ‘em like Pokemon, babe! The crown truly belongs to you! 🥳🥂🖤 My prompts were Billie Eilish’s You Should See Me In A Crown 👑 and a quote, which you’ll find in bold. I also based parts of it on The Bravery’s Hatefuck 🔥 because it certainly is a fitting song for Demon!Dean. Enjoy, my loves!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

High noon. The bar was virtually deserted, tranquil, and almost peaceful, cradling every new arrival in a false sense of security if they weren’t smart enough and came equipped with a sixth sense for peril. After all, some dangers lurked in bright daylight and weren’t as easily identified by the naked eye.

Luckily, Y/N was smarter than most and knew exactly what kind of threat was waiting for her there as her black heels on fiery red soles stormed through the doors of the rundown tavern. The remaining guests of the establishment consisted of drunkard patrons lingering around dirty tables and halfway falling asleep in front of their glasses. Her determined and vibrant eyes, however, immediately landed on a tuft of sandy-blond and disheveled locks.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A beautiful, flesh-eating flower. A blazing hot mess. Dean fucking Winchester.

Y/N was a big girl, though. She knew better than to get lost in something shiny, the glitter and glamour, the cheap thrill. Fuck diamonds. They were just a marketing scheme, and she already fell for good packaging once in her life and got severely burned like a child touching the hot plate of a stove. And while the cold emptiness in her chest prevented her from feeling anything, not even a tingle, her heart still pounded a few beats faster once her eyes caught sight of the main prize.

Her mind flooded with memories, vivid images of a life she once possessed. The endless movie nights, the laughs and talks, the tears and touches, the love that was lost. Lost because of him and his selfishness. And while none of it mattered anymore, she swore a long time ago, she wouldn’t let him get away with it. No, he still had to pay for what he did, suffer the same fate she had. She was deadly set on making her vision a reality.

So, you could say Y/N came prepared, came with a plan. After all, the perfect revenge wasn’t something you could whip up in an hour and implement haphazardly. It took years – years of executing moves, forming questionable relationships, and conducting the most boring research in dusty libraries and tombs. Y/N was absolutely playing the long game, a strategy that’d certainly make every grand master of chess blush.

Of course, the asshole of all assholes didn’t even reward her with a meek glance over his broad shoulder, the bang of a door apparently not thrilling enough for him to spin around. The clicking of high heels on sticky floorboards as she stalked closer to the bar counter, however, seemed to do the trick, her target intrigued enough to finally face her.

The promise of a willing woman, of his next potential prey, naturally forced a predatory smirk onto his plush and sinful lips. A smile, which dropped quite abruptly once her former lover realized who truly stood before his acid green eyes. Oh, she was definitely not the corruptible angel he’d hoped for in his wettest dreams. And while he might be anything but human these days, the shock was big enough to let the black-eyed mask slip, and for a moment, she was reminded of the person he used to be. The good, kind, and selfless hero, full of shame, guilt, and regrets.

God, she hated that fucking guy.

“Remember me, Winchester?” A smirk played across her lips when his instinctive first answer was a light swallow, still subtle enough to pretend he didn’t care. The longer he stared at her, the more it became a scathing glare until the shock had subsided enough, and his defined jaw began to clench under the rough layer of scruff.

“Y/N.” Her name rolled off his wicked lips and nearly caused her to sink to her knees in front of him. It had been too long since he’d last said it, and she almost forgot the sound of it, the deep, shuddering timbre of his voice. The strength it took for him to utter her name in the first place was hidden behind a stoic exterior, however. He’d never thought he’d say it again, either, and it showed. “What the hell are you fucking doing here?”

Her head tilted like a lost puppy’s, brow puckering as her gaze innocently drifted to Crowley next to him, who’d been suspiciously quiet this whole time. “Aw, you didn’t tell him?”

Y/N wasn’t in the least bit surprised that A, the demon tried to cross her, and B, tried to make a run for it with his new bestie. It was what demons, especially Crowley, did best, after all. They couldn’t be trusted. And although she warned the scumbag several times, she naturally expected her peasant’s next move. No one beat the queen of chess.

“Tell me what?” Dean gritted through his pearly white teeth, his glare quickly swerving to his new partner in crime, who swallowed the enormous and craven lump in his throat.

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley…,” Y/N tsked and casually crossed her arms. “You know, I’ve waited.” She took a step closer to the demon king, the flames in her eyes speaking volumes. “I bid my time. I paid my dues. Don’t you think I deserve credit?”

“Of course, of course,” Crowley scrambled for words, the coward in him ducking so much that even a woman of her small stature practically towered over him. “I couldn’t have done it without your extraordinary genius, my dear.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Dean’s patience had dried up like a raisin as he demanded an answer, swiftly pulling out the First Blade. He forcefully slammed it into the wooden countertop of the bar, piercing straight through Crowley’s palm and pinning the demon in place before the slippery bastard could pull a Houdini act on him again.

“Ow! Bloody–!” Crowley hissed in pain and anger at the former hunter, who, in return, smirked quite complacently at the achievement.

“Tell him,” Y/N prompted with an unsympathetic look toward the demon in agony. “Tell him who found Cain in the first place and came up with the idea. Tell him who told you what the mark would do to him. Tell him you truly did nothing because you’re worth nothing. Tell him who made him into what he is. Tell him who cursed him.”

“You did,” Crowley croaked out while his hand soaked the countertop and painted it crimson red. “And may I add, your Majesty looks incredibly pretty today.”

With a scoff, Y/N rolled her eyes at the demon’s obvious attempt of flattery before she snapped her fingers and painfully forced his meat suit to his knees, his palm still nailed to the bar top as he let out a loud scream. She smirked when she noted Dean’s look of surprise at her little trick show. She certainly had leveled up since the last time he’d seen her. It scratched the little tingle in her belly.

“Yeah? If you think I’m pretty, you should see me in a crown. Don’t make me come for your job, too. Let’s face it, Crowley – you’d make a better servant than a king. Cross me again, and I’ll end you, demon scum,” she threatened, her jaw tightening and nostrils flaring. “Did you pathetic weasel really think I wouldn’t find you, slurping chick drinks in some dive bar no less? Do I really need to wear a warning sign next time I make a deal with you? You were supposed to deliver him on a silver platter for me. Did you really think I wouldn’t hunt you down?”

When the reigning king submissively ducked his head and swallowed like a beaten dog, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk. Cheerily, she leaned over the hunter’s lap and the mahogany counter, her hands going through several liquor bottles till she found one to her liking. She purposely stuck her butt out, wiggling and swaying it in front of the former hunter, still remembering a few preferences from the good ol’ days. It didn’t take long before she felt Dean’s long, thick fingers crawl down her spine and smooth over the leather-clad globes of her ass.

“Wanna take this somewhere more quiet, princess?”

Y/N gleefully hugged the chosen bottle of bourbon and pressed the cool, amber glass to her tits, nodding quite eagerly before placing a contrastingly soft kiss on his cheek. “One step ahead of you, my love. It’s time to celebrate!”

As Dean closed the door behind them, he watched as Y/N stalked through the motel room he’d called his home for the past months, curious Y/E/C eyes observing the remnants of his meaningless existence. It had been two years since he’d last seen her, since he kicked her out of the bunker and broke his own useless heart with it. She still looked the same. Stunning and breathtaking like the day he’d met her and bitter, cold, and angry like the day he’d lost her.

“You might’ve acquired those pretty new eyes, but your preferences are still the same, Winchester,” she teased, spinning to him with a grin that reached her ears. “Still picking the shady dive bars and gross motels over the five-star hotels. What’s wrong with a little luxury and a comfortable mattress, huh?”

Dean only rolled his juniper eyes, not in the mood for chit-chat or amusing banter, and prompted, “Why did you do this? Apparently, I owe those pretty new eyes to you.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t play dumb,” Y/N huffed, annoyed with his act of innocence. “You know why I’m here. Contrary to popular belief, you’ve never been stupid, Dean.” A smirk spread across her face and lit up her dimples as she swayed closer. Her index finger hooked into the waistband of his jeans, pulling him flush against her small body, pointed teeth denting her bottom lip. “You’ve never been-,” her hungry gaze wandered down, palming the growing erection behind the denim, “-disappointing, either. At least not in that regard. You know, I fell for these eyes once before, and they’re even prettier now...”

Her teeth sunk into his pulse point as she left her first mark there, the tip of her tongue licking the salt from his skin. His hands didn’t deny themselves the pleasure of roaming her frame, her perfect curves, and her taut skin either, before one hand found rest on her exquisitely rounded ass, her cheek a perfect fit for his large palm as he cupped and groped it, pushing her against his bulging crotch that achingly pressed against the tight fabric of his jeans and begged for release and a warm, wet hole to fill.

While he hadn’t come to a clear decision about her yet, he knew he could postpone any thinking for later. After all, he did whatever the fuck he wanted, no consequences, and right now, he wanted to shove his cock inside her tight cunt and fuck her like there was no tomorrow. Albeit feelings and past attachments didn’t really play a role for him, he still remembered enough of their time together to know she’d always been a good fuck and certainly the best time. The things she’d do for him, say for him, and let him do, had always been wicked, way before his heart was corrupted, and Dean was all about celebrating the good times these days.

Craving the feeling of a blissful high, his mind flooded with images of the bruises and bites he’d left behind on her skin in the past and filled with thoughts of how much he’d missed her taste and smell. He certainly wouldn’t turn down her irresistible offer. So, throwing his resolve out the window, his mouth roughly claimed hers, tongue slipping inside, teeth biting flesh until it drew sweet, scarlet nectar.

His wet lips trailed along her jawline and down to her delicate neck as she became soft and bendable in his hold. “How did you do that to Crowley?” His question reverberated against her throat before he drew and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Last time I checked, you were soulless, not magic, princess.”

He at least had to ensure she couldn’t butcher him before he had a chance to do the same. It didn’t help, though, that their little stand-off was part of the turn-on. Who’d snap first? After all, they’d both been hunters once and knew the game all too well.

Amused, his former lover chuckled with a devilish twinkle in her gorgeous eyes that lit up her entire face. “God, don’t you just love it when they scream? It’s the best sound after cutting someone’s tongue out.”

Dean’s hands then wrapped around her throat, pushing her back into the next wall as he pinned her there and fixed her with a deathly glare, feeling her swallow harshly in his grip. He squeezed a little harder, his jaw tightening with his hold on her. A smirk played across his lips, practically smelling her arousal trickle into her panties.

Dean then pulled the blade from his back and thrust it into the papered wall dangerously close to her head, even drawing a little blood from the tip of her ear. He knew she was smart enough to understand it as a warning. Collecting a scarlet drop on his thumb, he licked his pad and relished in the metallic taste on his tongue.

“You better start answering some questions before I do what I shoulda done a long time ago, sweetheart,” he growled, his nose running along hers as she inhaled his scent like life-supplying oxygen.

But Y/N only smiled mysteriously, puckishly shrugging her shoulders. “Things change. Learned a thing or two after you exiled me. Made some friends in high places.”

“So, what? You did all this for revenge? Little pathetic, don’t you think? All over a good lay…,” he taunted her and scoffed.

Her greedy hands clasped his cheeks, sharp nails piercing his skin as she dragged him back to her addicting lips. “No, baby, I did all this for you, for me, for us. Don’t you see? After everything that happened, after what you’ve done to me… you can finally make it right. I know that’s what you wanted the most, even now with that little curse on your arm. And now, we’re the same without all those icky feelings getting in our way. We can just fuck and make the world ours. One by one.”

“There’s no more us, sweetheart,” Dean bit, flashing her a set of onyx orbs.

“Cute. There’s always an us,” she replied like his answer didn’t even matter to her, leaving no room for further discussions. “Do you still feel guilty about it, hm? You were so, so selfish. At least now, you’re honest about it and not hiding behind feigned heroics anymore.”

“Old me felt guilty, yeah,” he admitted and let out a dark chuckle. “But that’s kinda one of the perks of the new me. Now, I just think those people we used to be were pathetic and weak... I was weak. I sent you away when I shoulda just fucking killed you.”

“Or maybe you should’ve just let me die the way I was supposed to in the first place,” Y/N gritted bitterly. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so fucking self-serving and let me go. But you couldn’t do that, could you? You had to save me because that was what the great hero Dean Winchester did, right? But the other thing you did so well was fucking things up, and boy, did you fuck this up, didn’t you?” she mocked and smirked when his look darkened and his upper lip twitched in shameful admittance, teeth grinding down. “Do you like my plan so far? You know, not having a soul is almost like already being dead. No dreams, no future... There’s nothing alive inside of me. Might as well sleep in a damn coffin. And because you showed me no mercy, I made sure I showed you none either, my sweet baby boy.”

It was true. It was all his fault she had lost goddamn everything. Her love, her family, her home. As weak as he was, Dean couldn’t let her go when she got hurt during a run-of-the-mill hunt. He brought her back to life, a spell that chipped away her soul till there was nothing left of it. And still, as foolishly smitten and in love as he was, he thought he could goddamn fix it, fix her, fix them. But there was nothing left for him to love and nothing that was capable of loving him back. Yet, he still didn’t have the guts to kill her in the bitter end.

“Want me to correct my past mistake, huh? Is that why you’re fucking here? ‘Cause I’d be happy to do just that,” he growled warningly into her ear as he leaned closer, hearing how her heart rate accelerated as his hot breath fanned against her delicate neck.

“You might be a demon, but I know you still don’t have the fucking heart to kill me,” she giggled in amusement and placed her palm on his chest where the miserable muscle pounded underneath. “Who’s pathetic now, huh?”

“Don’t fucking test me, Y/N. It won’t end well for you, honey,” he threatened, far from admitting that she’d seen right through him and called his bluff. “But then, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a slut for me.”

While Y/N’s little plan, apparently forged in hellfire itself, certainly made them more alike, the difference between them was that he still had a soul. His was just blackened, clouded by darkness, and disfigured over time by an abundance of pain and anger and, well, one little curse. Hers, on the other hand, wasn’t there at all. She was just an empty vessel, no feelings and emotions inside.

Old him couldn’t trust her; new him didn’t care, though. The new and improved version of him even recognized her worth. Y/N had always been cunningly smart, certainly smarter than him and even smarter than Sam. Dean could recall memories of vivid discussions with Bobby, the two of them rattling off weird trivia facts almost to a competitive degree.

Dean needed her. He could use her to his advantage. She was valuable.

Plus, Crowley had started to become annoying fairly quickly. The only reason the former hunter hadn’t stabbed the demon’s meat suit yet was that Dean really didn’t want to take over the duties of kingship. He could care less about Hell. All he wanted was to fuck around, drink excessively, and do a little karaoke.

Y/N, on the other hand, would make a good queen. Smart, driven, just. She’d make fair decisions and reign with an iron fist and a fucking brain. In fact, Dean thought she’d make an excellent ruler of Hell even. She was right from the start: This was what he’d wanted since the day she left him – a way to have her back in his life, didn’t matter if the plan was perfect, good, or straight-up evil. Being a demon, freed from all the chains of humanity, was the best fucking thing that ever happened to him – and he owed it all to her.

“Yeah?” She provokingly nudged his nose as her hand slid under his waistband and inside his boxer briefs, her palm rubbing along his throbbingly hard dick, causing him to growl lowly. “Show me, baby. Show me what a bad guy you can be,” she purred and tore into his plump bottom lip before letting it pop back in its place. “Show me how much you used to love me, how much I meant to you. Show me by fucking me like you hate me now... I wanna be your favorite toy again. Play with me, baby. Love me mercilessly.”

Effortlessly, he twirled her in his hold, pressing her tits against the wall. With one motion, he roughly pried the tight leather leggings over her asscheeks, his hand slipping to her front and cupping her bare and leaking pussy, her arousal trickling onto his finger pads.

“So fucking wet, hm? Did my slut miss me this badly, huh? You missed this cock, baby girl?” he breathed against the nape of her neck and inhaled her intoxicating scent once more before his teeth tore into her smooth flesh, making her cry out. His dick twitched in delight when her moans filled his ears as his digits rubbed at her clit and set the sensitive nerve endings on fire, her nails clawing away at the grimy motel room wall.

One hand then gripped her upper arm tightly and pinned her writhing body in place, his broad chest pressing against her back as his mouth marked her shoulders and spine.

“Cum once now, and I’ll fuck you into the next life, my little plaything,” he husked challengingly into her ear, and just as he thrust his first thick digit inside her waiting, hot center, she came undone and trembled in his hold.

That was one.

Kissing the salty drops from the slope of her neck, his chuckles vibrated against her heated skin. “Still a good girl after all this time. Impressive. You were almost fucking polite. Some things really don’t change, huh?”

Breathlessly, Y/N spun around to face him, the swell of her breasts that spilled out of the revealing top heaving with each erratic intake of air. She grinned crookedly up at him and locked her fingers behind his neck. “Well, haven’t you heard? All the good girls go to Hell. And I believe you promised me something,” she sang like the prettiest, most innocent damsel.

“Don’t be a brat, baby girl. Impatience is a vice,” Dean reminded her, eyes as dark as midnight while his thumb traced her kiss-swollen lips before stuffing his wet fingers into her mouth. Hungrily, he watched her suck them clean as she tasted the mess she’d made, the tip of her tongue provoking his pads and desiring something with more girth.

“Thought we were all about those vices now, my love,” she giggled darkly and kissed his open palm on her cheek before chasing his lips in a drunk delirium, clashing with pointed teeth and tongue.

His hand traveled to the back to cup her head, fingers weaving into her hair and tugging a fistful. Her knees were becoming wobbly, bending and giving in slightly, pulled down by his gravity on her planet, an instant reflex that only came from years of orbiting around each other.

“I want you so badly, De,” she breathed needily against his lips and caressed his cheek with a gentle touch, almost treating him as breakable, whispering, “I might not be able to love you anymore, but I still remember what it felt like, you know? It was so… pure.”

A smile graced his lips, one corner of his mouth rising higher than the other. “Yeah, I know what you mean, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to worry anymore, baby. I’ll take care of you again. I’ll turn us into something great, amazing even,” Y/N vowed pantingly, the excitement sparkling in her eyes before she desperately claimed his pillowy lips like an addict chasing their next high.

Swiftly, the zipper of his jeans opened, the denim and cotton boxers pooling around his ankles before he gripped his rock-hard cock. Y/N rid herself of her leggings, her hand wrapping around the grip of the First Blade, still firmly stuck in the blood-stained wall. His hand quickly curled around hers on the weapon, a distrustful look glazing his dark green eyes.

“Trust me, okay? I’m not here to cramp your style, baby,” she assured him, a smile playing across her pink lips, and something in her vicious eyes told him that he could confide in her.

Dropping his hand from the blade, he smoothed his palms down her curves and gripped her hips tightly instead as she hoisted herself up on the blade and wrapped her legs around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back. His lips crashed against hers in a scorching kiss, teeth tearing and biting before he lined himself up with her entrance and violently thrust inside her dripping pussy to the hilt. She gasped a loud moan that surely could be heard all through the motel as he bottomed out completely, his dickhead slamming harshly against her cervix. He groaned and closed his eyes for a heartbeat as her warmth enveloped his entire cock. She’d always been the perfect fit for him.

“Missed this, huh?” Y/N teased him, grinning smugly, and watched his brow form furious creases.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunted and pulled out enough to slam back into her with full force, one hand finding its way back to her throat.

“Oooh, bossy. I like the new you. So raw,” she smirked and gasped anew when he hammered into her again. “F-fuck, baby... That’s it.”

This time, it seemed to do the trick as Y/N’s voice stumped, and she fell silent, her head thumping back against the wall in pleasure as his hips snapped against hers, pounding into her at a furious and relentless speed, the motel room wall shaking with her body.

“You know, by the end of the night, I’ll make sure my cum’s leaking out of every pretty little hole of yours, baby girl. How would you like that, huh?”

With one deafening scream at his next hard and deep thrust, Y/N sinfully smirked at him and nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’d fucking love that, baby.”

Dean tenderly kissed the burning red scratches on her bare back, soothing the bittersweet pain a little as his fingertips traced his marks along her spine. He made good on his promise, fucked her into oblivion without showing her any mercy, so much so that they both lost their sense of time and the meaning of life and love. In the end, it all just trickled down to meaningless, random shit. Pleasure and power were all that truly mattered in this deranged world, after all.

Y/N giggled sweetly as he found another ticklish spot before she turned in his embrace and caught his lips. “So, morning light is here, baby boy. Time to make a choice,” she prompted, smirking broadly. “Wanna team up for a little destruction?”

Dean sent her a smile, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face as he gently caressed the rosy apples of her cheeks. Finally, he sealed their deal with a sacrilegious kiss.

“Alright, glad you made the right decision, baby,” Y/N teased, her wicked smile almost splitting her face in half. “You know what we have to do first, though, right?”

“Yeah, we need to kill Sammy, Cas, and Crowley before they ruin our fucking fun,” he replied and kissed a path down to her tits, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Ding, ding, ding,” Y/N grinned happily upon his correct answer and wiggled her eyebrows before pushing his head further down between her legs to her abused cunt. “But first, make me scream for mercy again, my love.”

Dear Chuck, you better hide from this toxic af couple 😂 Hope you enjoyed this, babes! There’s another smutty one-shot coming tomorrow for V-Day and then I’m done harassing you 💖😉

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#avanaturalsantagonists #demon!dean #demon!dean x female reader #demon!dean x soulless!reader #soulless!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #demon!dean x reader #demon!dean smut #demon!dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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sortagaysortahigh · 2 years

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Still Into You | Eddie Munson

A/N: Hi besties, here she is, my first Eddie Munson enemies to lovers(ish) fic, this is definitely way longer than expected and honestly it’s been a hot minute since I’ve sat down and finished a fic so thank you to the Stranger Things Gods for bringing me out of my writing hiatus. This fic also has a Black coded reader because she’s a Sinclair, however it can be ready by anyone regardless of race or ethnicity <3 ALSO THIS IS SPOILER FREE!

Summary: As enemies or as lovers, they were fine with either, after all fourth grade left a lasting impact on them both.

Warnings: Cussing, spelling and grammatical errors (sorry baes I don’t believe in editing), slight angst, mention of drugs + drug dealing, mentions of on going insecurity, slight mentions of violence, mentions of p*rn*gr*phy (i.e, the adult video section at movie rental places), and the reader being a bitch (as she should)

Word Count: 12.5k (she’s a long one, at least for me)

Eddie Munson x Sinclair!Fem!Reader

Every Thursday Y/n Sinclair had a routine, it was a simple routine, she would wake up at seven in the morning and be ready by eight-by ready that typically meant her hair would be done but she would throw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, sometimes pants depending on the weather outside. After that she drove her younger siblings to school, dropping Erica off first, then Lucas.

Some days Lucas stayed over at one of his friends' houses-so she’d just drop Erica off. Then she’d make her way back home, stopping by the local donut shop to pick up her favorite chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles-the sprinkles were a necessity.

After that she made her way to the local library, spending the day studying and completing any assignments or research she’d been procrastinating on. She’d always been a great student-however when things came down to it she couldn’t afford to go to college out of state alongside the fact that she didn’t want to go to college both played a key role in her decision to pursue an Associates of Arts degree at the local community college a town over.

Once she finished at the library 1pm was rolling around-meaning she would make her way across town to the Hawkins Middle School parking lot, where she’d read for around half an hour before Erica and her posse of obnoxious attitude ridden eighth graders would follow her-sometimes begging for a ride home from the eldest Sinclair while trying to win her over with flattery-to which she’d roll her eyes and tell the younger girls to get it.

By the time she finished dropping off Erica’s friends they’d looped back around to Hawkins to pick up Lucas. However her routine changed today when Lucas hadn’t come out on time-rather an hour passed before Y/n left the car with Erica in tow and walked throughout the school while peaking into the different club meetings trying to find him.

Of course most older sisters would simply assume he’d joined a club, and would’ve turned around and driven home-however after the past two years they had-she had to make sure he hadn’t decided to go on another supernatural ‘chasing monsters’ adventure with Dustin and Mike.

When she realized where he was-she regretted even stepping foot into the school-trying to usher Erica away from the slightly ajar classroom door full of teenage boys playing Dungeons and Dragons in a somewhat dark room lit by faux candles. Of course she wasn’t mad at Lucas, Mike, or Dustin, actually she was happy they found a place at the highschool after their first month of complaining about being losers in combination with Y/n having to go to the school and tell off a few of the junior and senior girls that decided they had the right to bully her younger brothers.

”Girl get off of me, you’re not my mother, stop trying to push me down the hallway! When did you get so strong anyways, what are you a damn linebacker?”

One thing about Erica Sinclair was that she could never keep her mouth shut-granted she’d picked the habit up from her eldest sister-and in times like this it really showed.

“You’re gonna embarrass us if you don’t stop trying to act like hot shit, you have literal bright pink bows in your hair, shut it up and start walking before I drag you by those uneven pigtails-you need to let mom do your hair instead of trying to do it yourself.” her younger sister gasped, eyes wide, jaw dropped, as she processed her sister’s words-however before Erica could formulate a response the door they were a foot away from swung open.

“Can you two take your little argument somewhere else-we’re in the middle of a campaign here-wait a second-Sinclair?” before she could respond to him-the sound of Lucas’s voice was heard “Yeah Eddie?” the tall brunette quickly looked behind him into the room “not you-your sister” with that he turned back to face Y/n who was now clenching her jaw in annoyance while pushing Erica away by placing a hand on her sister’s face and shoving her slightly.

“Now to what do I owe the honor? The retired Queen of Hawkins High herself-Y/n Sinclair in my presence” she scoffed, now crossing her arms across her chest while watching Eddie’s theatrics, he now placed one arm behind his back-the other in front of his chest while bowing before her, the smirk on his face evident as he stood back up-stepping closer then leaning against the door frame.

It was no secret that Y/n was deemed as the Queen of Hawkins High throughout the later years she attended the school, however it wasn’t something that she formed her personality around, nor was it something that she openly embraced. Truth be told the entire reason she was so ‘popular’ was simply because she was an athlete. The girl was a varsity cheerleader for four years, and she’d won homecoming princess her junior year when the cheerleaders practically forced her to run, which followed with homecoming queen her senior year and she ran for Prom Queen after Nancy and Steve were committed to making sure Carol wouldn’t win.

People liked Y/n, she was real, and she wasn’t a bully like most of the self proclaimed ‘royalty’ of Hawkins high. She was the only person that would put a stop to the endless bullying and teasing that everyone witnessed at the hands of Tommy, Carol, and their mindless minions-hell the girl was known for punching Tommy in the face their junior year after he tried to corner Nancy Wheeler.

However, Y/n didn’t like people-she wasn’t a people person by choice, she did what she had to, to make her high school experience more enjoyable. She wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over her-hence her efforts to ensure the same thing would not happen to her younger brother-and the other two that she basically co-parented with Steve Harrington.

People always called Y/n their friend although she did not reciprocate the same energy or friendship. She viewed friendship as something important and close to her heart-hence the reason her personal social circle was so small. Yeah the girl used to smile and wave at anyone who glanced her way, even continuing conversations that were randomly sparked on a whim to see if the ‘queen B was as nice as they say she is’, of course there were also the people who saw through the nice facade she’d built up.

People like Eddie Munson. She couldn’t stand him, he was always two steps ahead of her, cutting her off mid sentence, or making small slick comment such as ‘you don’t really like them as much as you say you do huh’ or ‘y’know I like you better when you’re being a stone cold bitch y/n’ and of course her favorite ‘Here yee, here yee, the Queen has arrived’.

The two of them had grown up in Hawkins, paths always crossing one way or another. They’d been neighbors for a short period of time before his Mom skipped town, then of course the fact that his Uncle and Y/n’s father fought in the Vietnam war together meant that every now and then her father would ask ‘how’s that Munson boy-Wayne gave me a real show at Poker night last week’ or something along the lines of that, but as the years went by her father asked less and less about Eddie.

That didn’t mean the boy wasn’t around her, being a pesky nuisance. He painted himself as a social reject, and when Tommy decided to label him as Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson he went along with it, and sure Y/n did jump in to defend Eddie when his name was brought up in conversation with the group but that didn’t mean she liked him, it was simply because she defended everyone who’s name was thrown around by the town douchebags.

“Oh fuck off Munson. I just needed to know where my brother was, and now that I do-what time do you nerds wrap this up? Figure I’ll take my two other children home too” He furrowed his brows for a second before nodding his head.

All the while Erica just looked between the two, her brows knit together while she tried to piece how her sister knew Eddie-and why he looked like he was in love with her older bitchier sister. Then again, Y/n looked like she wanted to bite his head off like the praying mantises Erica learned about in her science class last year.

“Oh come on, you shouldn’t talk to your ex boyfriend like that princess! We were practically in love y’know” Y/n scoffed, nostrils flaring as she furrowed her brows and frowned slightly, the evident look of disgust on her features only making Eddie smile more as he ignored the continuous protests from his fellow club members all complaining about continuing the campaign instead of watching Eddie flirt with Lucas’s sister.

“Munson, we “dated” for two weeks in the fourth grade. Once again, fuck off” He placed a hand over his heart, leaning forward slightly, letting out a dramatic sigh before standing back up, raising his left brow-the look almost challenging her.

“Y’know Sinclair-you can admit that you like having me around-probably even miss me sometimes” His confident tone set Y/n off, her fists clenched at her sides now as she let out a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few moments before opening them again-the few seconds that her eyes were closed Eddie wasted no time in taking in her entire appearance-the baggy ‘Hawkins Cheerleading’ t-shirt in combination with her daisy dukes that were just short enough but not too short had his lips slightly parted.

“Aw how sweet, you think I actually want you breathing my air? I’d rather get jumped by four large Russian men in an underground tunnel while being drugged” The memory had Erica’s brows knit together once again, glancing up at her older sister with a look of shock on her face. Of course Erica knew that anyone who hadn’t been there wouldn’t understand it-but she still remembered seeing her older sister getting dragged down that cold metal hallway as she crawled through the air vents above.

Eddie looked visibly confused, nodding his head a few times while puckering his lips. Something about Y/n had always made his heart race, after all she was his first crush ever-and his first girlfriend-not to mention his first kiss. Although it was chaste and didn’t last very long-he still remembered it and he knew she did as well.

“That’s oddly specific princess-but if you want to play hard to get then so be it-I love a good challenge” she scoffed, her jaw dropping slightly before she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, their shoulders bumping as she walked into the classroom, all of the Hellfire club members now looking at her while she let out a deep sigh, her eyes searching for Lucas-and when they made eye contact her younger brother looked mortified.

“Okay dorks, since your almighty lord and savior Edward won’t tell me when your campaign ends-when does it end” it seemed as if all of the guys in the room were afraid of her as she stood there, blinking a few times, brows raised, moving her hands together in a ‘wrap it up’ circular motion as she waited for someone to answer her.

“Y/n-haha about the time thing-it ends at 8” she looked taken aback for a moment as Dustin answered her, and that only made his eyes widen when he processed that today was Thursday. On Thursday nights at eight she went to the local diner to get a milkshake with Robin. She’d been doing it for months at this point-and everyone knew it was a part of her Thursday routine-something she valued.

“Oh shit it’s Thursday” Mike spoke next, glancing between Lucas and Dustin, the three of them now staring at each other looking frantic. Part of her was irritated by the abrupt interruption to her entire Thursday routine, but the other part was happy they were happy-granted she would prefer their happiness without Munson.

“Sorry uh-Y/n-not to ask a stupid question but uh is that everything you need? We’re kind of at a really important moment-not to like upset you or anything” she sighed, glancing at Gareth, taking a moment to roll her shoulders back while he spoke-trying to appear more relaxed and less irritated. She knew she was technically barging in on their club meeting and of course no one appreciates an abrupt pause-sure she wanted to wring Eddie’s neck for even assuming that he had a chance with her to have anything other than a ‘Hi Princess’ ‘Fuck off Munson’ relationship with her, but that was no excuse to be a bitch to any of the guys.

“Gareth-it’s cool, I’ll go, sorry for the barging in and shouting in the hallway-she’s just an overactive ass-” Erica scoffed from the doorway “and you’re a loud mouthed jester” Y/n took a moment to glance over her shoulder, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes immediately snapped up from her ass to her face. “-shut it before I drop you off in the middle of the woods at night”

“Anyways, me and the mouse over there are leaving. Lukiepooh, Mikeybear, and Dustybun I’ll see you at eight-promptly or you’re next on my shit list. I gotta go reschedule my date with Rob now-bye nerds'' She spoke in a playful tone, all of the guys exchanged looks outside of Eddie, the way she said ‘nerds’ or ‘dork’ was never malicious, rather she smiled at them before turning around, flashing Eddie another dirty look on the way out.

She hadn’t expected him to follow behind her, but Erica cleared her throat, causing Y/n to turn back slightly, pausing her steps.

He stopped walking too, a few feet away from the Sinclair sisters, brows furrowed while he wrapped one arm around his waist, the other moving so that his hand could grab his hair, slightly pushing it towards his face-the motion made him look somewhat shy or even nervous and that confused Y/n.

“So you uh-have a date?” she shrugged “Is that a concern to you Munson?” something about him always bothered her, even now when he looked-well he looked like that. She could never describe it-even when she still attended Hawkins-anytime they crossed paths, made eye contact across a classroom or the cafeteria, or even when she’d stop Tommy from bothering him and his friends-there was always something else there-something that was undeniable yet unexplainable and that only bothered her more.

“I feel like it should be, after all I am after your heart” she scoffed, rolling her eyes then turned around, grabbing Erica’s arm and pulling her to walk while responding “whatever Munson”.

The car ride was mostly silent until Erica realized the two of them were at Family Video-not their neighborhood. Then she finally sat up in the Jaguar’s leather front seat, shifting her body to face her older sister.

“What the hell was that!” y/n glanced at Erica, letting out a small sigh as she shifted her thick voluminous blown out curls away from her face. “It was nothing okay.” the youngest Sinclair shook her head “You’re such a liar! He’s so into you!”

“Yeah sure he is Erica, he’s just an ass that likes to annoy me.” Erica shook her head, pursing her lips while raising a brow at her sister “Ain’t no way! The way he was staring at you! You’re lying! It doesn’t take some super genius to see that”

Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes and opening the car door, forcing Erica to follow suit as they walked into the video store.

Little did she know, across town in the same classroom she’d recently left, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas were all trying to piece things together as well-mostly because when Eddie walked back into the room, he was smiling from ear to ear and there was a slight red flush to his face.

After thirty minutes of whispering between roles, Lucas finally cleared his throat and declared a time out. “Eddie, are you and my sister a thing?” he stared at the older boy “c’mon-what was that? I’ve never seen her like that-like ever and she’s my sister! I’ve known her my entire life!” Lucas sat there, waiting for a response, the other guys at the table nodding their heads before joining the conversation.

Gareth spoke first “Honestly-no offense Lucas-but I expected her to be a bitch. Everyone kind of assumed that she was nice as an act-and I didn’t even know that she knew my name. But that’s probably the meanest I’ve ever seen her be-and she apologized to us?” Jeff nodded alongside one of the other club members.

“That’s true-Y/n’s always been intimidating-when she was here she basically ran the entire school-she decked Tommy H. in the face my freshman year-that shit was terrifying” It was clear that Jeff was thinking of the memory, seeing Y/n pull Tommy back by the right shoulder of his leather varsity jacket and the few seconds that followed were something out of a movie, the sound of Nancy’s ‘Y/n! It’s fine! Stop!’ followed by the sound of Y/n’s fist making contact with Tommy’s jaw almost echoed throughout the hallway.

Everyone who was there would never forget that moment, especially the way Tommy stumbled back a few steps, blinking while holding his face, slightly hunched over, his lip bleeding and a look of pure shock on his face. The moment followed by Y/n kneeing him in the abdomen to seal the deal before checking on Nancy, her entire demeanor shifted as she made sure her friend was alright.

“That was probably the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen-I wanted to drop down on one knee and propose to her” Eddie spoke, gaining everyone else’s attention as he stared off in the distance, his elbows leaning into the table as his chin rested in the palms of his hands.

“So you’re telling me this entire time…you and Y/n have known each other?” he nodded his head at Mike’s question. “Yeah, Hawkins isn’t a huge town boys, course I knew Sinclair’s hot mean sister” Before Lucas could respond Mike did, the look of horror on his face “Hey! That’s basically my sister!”

“Can you please answer the important question here?!” Lucas’s mortified expression didn’t go unnoticed by his fellow club members-sure Eddie and Y/n together would be kind of cool-Lucas looked up to Eddie in a way. He knew Eddie had his flaws, no one who repeated their senior year more than once was perfect-but Eddie had a good heart, and he was a metaphorical king among the ‘nerds’, he took kids under his wing and gave them a space to belong at Hawkins. He wasn’t mad, he was just confused.

“To answer your question, my dear Sundar the Bold, no the Queen and I are not dating, rather she can’t stand me and I’m after nothing but our fair ladies heart and somehow every time I get close-she slips through my fingers.”

That response was all Lucas needed, and based on the way Dustin looked at him, followed by Mike’s look-the three of them were already on board with one another.

That night on the drive home the boys all bombarded Y/n with questions about her relationship-or lack thereof-with their Dungeon Master. So much that she responded to all of them with “Shut the hell up! Yes I know Munson! We’re not friends! We’re not anything! Let the shit go!” then she commenced to ignoring all of them as she pulled into her driveway, all of them walking into the house with Chinese takeout in their hands.

The week that followed she did her best to dodge any questions brought to her, instead she focused more on her priorities and watched the few episodes of Designing Women that she would usually catch up on on Thursdays. She went to her classes, gave a presentation on the male gaze’s impact on historical portraiture that she’d been working on for weeks, and worked her usual shifts at Family Video with Steve and Robin.

She’d done a great job at avoiding the topic of Eddie Munson, especially because it was as if everywhere she turned, one of the boys or Erica was bringing him up, asking her questions about how they knew each other, what happened in Fourth grade, and how they went from being friends (according to Eddie) to Y/n completely avoiding him as a topic of conversation, and walking right past him during her time at Hawkins High.

That was until Eddie strolled into Family Video wearing his usual denim vest, leather jacket combo, alongside a pair of fitted black ripped jeans and his worn in docs. His hair was in it’s usual curly messy state and he sported a wide smile on his face the second he noticed Y/n behind the counter rewinding tapes while humming along to the Iron Maiden song playing in the background.

He knew she hadn’t noticed him-which gave him just enough time to trace his eyes along her figure, her voluminous hair framed her face perfectly, the look of concentration evident on her face-brows knit together in the same way that Lucas’s and Erica’s did, and she stuck her tongue out ever so slightly as her teeth lightly bit down on it, only seen when one really focused on her slightly parted lips.

He took in the slightly oversized Aerosmith shirt tucked into her black jeans alongside the dark green Family Video vest made him smile-she was so different than most of the girls she’d been grouped together with in school, and even now, he knew she was in school, and he knew that she wanted to pursue art-all things he’d overheard from Lucas’s conversations-things that he kept noted because Eddie Munson was head over heels.

She spun on her heel, grabbing the next bin of tapes that needed to be rewinded, lost in her own world until she dropped a tape, mumbling ‘shit’ while squatting down and picking it up, then when she finally stood up did she notice Eddie leaning against the counter, a dopey smile on his face while he looked at her.

Y/n let out a sigh, placing the tape on the counter next to the VCR and computer, before placing a hand on her hip.

“What do you want Munson” he raised a brow, the same smile on his face “Do you want my real answer, or do you want the Family Video related answer” she scoffed, rolling her eyes-already having an idea of what he was going to say based on her answer.

“You look beautiful today M’lady” she nodded her head, now shifting her weight to her left foot while crossing her arms over her chest “Flatter won’t get you far. If you don’t have any returns or rentals, you can go” he nodded his head a few times “what if I want a recommendation”

Before he could open his mouth to speak Y/n was quick to shout for Robin, yelling “Rob! C’mere” while glancing towards the Adult section of the store. Robin had lost their game of rock, paper, scissors which forced her to do the sorting and restocking of their very graphic Adult section-also known as their self proclaimed ‘section of doom’.

Eddie straightened up, fully expecting a man to walk through the beaded curtains, he would finally know who Rob was-and in his head who his competition was. Of course when it came to Y/n his competition was never ending, she had people throwing themselves at her for years-and yet he’d never actually seen her give anyone the time of day except for her ex from sophomore year.

However when the dirty blonde walked through the curtains, swatting at them in a spastic motion while adusting her short bob-cut hair he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Sure women were competition-but Eddie had seen Y/n with Robin before and he knew they were just friends-he just had no idea what her name was.

“Don’t look too happy, Munson. You want a recommendation, Rob can give you one. I have a job to do” with that she turned back around, doing her best to ignore the almost burning feeling of Eddie’s stare, her gaze focused on the vcr in front of her as she placed a copy of the animated version of Lord of The Rings into the machine, proceeding to rewind it.

Yet when she glanced over at him, he was quick to make eye contact with her while Robin talked about different horror flicks, going on and on about the different genres of horror and what the store had to offer. Y/n loved how much Robin talked, most people were bothered by the girl’s high energy-however she was the straw to Y/n’s berry. The two were like two peas in a pod the second they’d met in the girl’s bathroom Y/n’s junior year.

Robin had been crying about getting rejected, and Y/n was the only person who didn’t ignore the sounds of choked sobs and sniffles coming from the large stall. The two of them ended up sitting on the dingy bathroom floor for two hours together, talking and laughing, Y/n reassuring Robin that whoever rejected her was just an asshole who couldn’t see what was in front of them.

Eventually when she got a job at Scoops Ahoy with Robin, she’d introduced the girl to Steve after forcing Steve to put in a job application-knowing that the boy hadn’t done much since graduation and was living in a post-highschool rut.

Of course the whole Russians in Hawkins, Mindflare possessions, fighting in the upside down and regular world, plus everything else that had gone on at that god forsaken mall only brought the three closer together, which led them all to applying to the understaffed Family Video

“These are all amazing recommendations-really but I need to talk to her” he pointed at Y/n, who was back to rewinding tapes and doing her best to alphabetize the box of rewound tapes so it’d be easier for Steve to stock them back on the shelves. She was more focused on figuring out why a copy of Grease wouldn’t properly rewind than she was on Eddie and Robin-which is why the second Eddie lightly smacked the counter to her right she jumped, immediately meeting his stare.

“Jesus Munson, can you not take a hint?” he placed a hand on his chin for a moment, raising a brow and nodding his head, mimicking a thinking pose. “I don’t think so no-not when it comes to the girl of my dreams” she scoffed “yeah okay Munson.” She rolled her eyes, going back to looking at the tape in front of her, popping the front of the black plastic case off of it, groaning at the sight of the tangled tape.

Before she could try to fix it-something she was terrible at-Eddie reached across the counter-grabbing it from her hands and examining it before he started carefully unraveling the tape, then he started rolling it back around-it seemed so effortless to him-and for the first time in a long time-Y/n found herself staring at him without her usual bitchy expression.

Her eyes were focused on his hands, watching him fix the tape that would’ve taken her at least half an hour to figure out.

“You should try dropping the attitude every now and then-it’s a good look on you” she blinked a few times, her gaze now meeting his while he stared at her, a small smile on his lips when she didn’t roll her eyes at him.

“I don’t have an attitude.” He raised a single brow “mmm I don’t think so, it’s usually there, and you stand all tense with your shoulders raised and jaw clenched. You’ve kind of always stood like that too” she rolled her eyes “I do not stand like that Eddie” the name slipped past her lips before she thought about it, and for a second it felt like Eddie had finally slipped through a crack, that he was finally getting through her walls.

“Yes you do” he mimicked her, raising his shoulders slightly, clenching his jaw and furrowing his brows, then he tilted his head up slightly “This is literally how you walk around, you also cross your arms a lot and occasionally you slightly stand on your toes to seem taller than you are” she tilted her head slightly, somewhat taken aback by how much he actually paid attention to her.

The two were almost in their own world, both of them too distracted by one another to notice Robin whispering on the store phone a few feet away.

“Yes he’s here-they’re talking and like she seems super into it, she’s not even being mean-and y’know how she stands all stiff and stuff right now she looks totally relaxed” Robin whispered into the phone, glancing over at Eddie and Y/n, her hand cupping the bottom of the phone as she held it against her face, trying her best to keep whispering while she spoke to Dustin, Lucas, and Mike-well technically it was the Wheeler residence’s phone, however the other two were hovering over it as well.

“We’ve been trying to get her to open up to him! She keeps brushing us off!” Dustin’s voice was heard through the phone while Robin nodded her head, listening as Lucas spoke next “We didn’t think he would actually show up, he kept going on about how she’d kick him out or ignore him”

“Well I can see why, she’s been ignoring him for years at this point, I feel like we have to figure out why she hates him-because there’s no way she actually hates him-Oh my god-guys-she’s smiling and laughing-I repeat she’s smiling and laughing”

It took everything in Robin not to start smiling and squealing, she was easily recruited for ‘Operation Fourth Grade to Forever’, granted none of them knew what happened in fourth grade, or why the two went from being friends to Y/n wanting nothing to do with him, but that was the entire point of the operation. Besides they were all looking for something to do-they had more free time on their hands after the gate was closed-so what better way than to help young love blossom.

Y/n found herself laughing at Eddie’s jokes and his mimicking of her uptight posture, she rolled her eyes playfully while taking the fixed tape from his outstretched hand.

“Thank you, that would’ve taken me hours” he laughed, a small smile on his face “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I’d let you suffer through that” she let out a small giggle at that, rolling her eyes at his flirty tone as she tried to stop the smile on her face-rather it was her smiling upside down-leading both Eddie and Robin to smile.

But their moment felt like it was stomped on when Steve rushed into the store, slipping on his vest, making the bell above the door ding back and forth a few times.

“Shit I’m late-sorry guys-got caught up with this girl-” he paused when he noticed Eddie across from Y/n, the both of them now glancing over at him, then his eyes moved to Robin who was still on the phone, but she quickly moved her hand away to make it seem like a casual phone call made to the store.

“Store’s pretty dead I guess.” his tone shift was evident, and he eyed Eddie, who simply put his hands up in a surrendering motion, then he glanced over at Y/n again “do you want to maybe, hang out, maybe go see Labyrinth sometime?-for uh old times sake” he rushed the last part, heat rushing through his neck, towards his ears, and the red flush slightly moving into his cheeks.

Before she could answer Steve did it for her “she can’t we’re already seeing that with Robin. Sorry Eddie, anything else you need? I can help you” Y/n blinked a few times, usually she’d be thankful that Steve stepped in to essentially cock block him, however, in the moment she felt something-something else. Some part of her was mad at Steve, especially when she noticed the way Eddie’s expression dropped.

“Oh uh, alright, well I’ll see you around Sinclair, cool meeting you Robin!” With that he tried to leave the store in a casual manner, internally he was a mixture of embarrassed, irritated, and oddly enough a sliver of happiness overtook him. That was the first time in years that she’d called him Eddie, not to mention seeing a genuine smile on her face-it was all the hope he needed.

When the door shut Y/n immediately grabbed a random movie from the Adult section returns bin and threw it at Steve. It hit him in the face while he struggled to dodge it, and Robin laughed before hanging up the phone.

“Are you serious? The hell was that for! You hate Munson!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes “I can answer questions myself Steve, I don’t need you to Mama bear me!” her attitude was back, and her shoulders were tense again, that in itself confused Steve-especially because the group made sure to keep Steve out of the operation, knowing that Steve considered Eddie a ‘bad influence’ and went on tangents about him to Dustin.

“You’re acting like you actually wanted to go see the movie with him! And really? Throwing ‘Katie Chow takes the big black kong’ at me was unnecessary!” he grimaced at the name of the tape, before tossing it on the counter and making his way behind it. However when he said that Y/n felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time-and she had no idea what it was.

When she hadn’t answered for a few minutes Steve slowly turned to face her, he glanced at Robin who simply shrugged while grabbing another bin of returns and started placing them on the old vinyl countertops.

“Wait-you wanted to go didn’t you!” she scoffed, eyes focused on the rewind button in front of her “I never said that Steve” he nodded “but you also never said you didn’t want to go!” she craned her neck back slightly, rolling her eyes, then returned to her original posture, trying to look more relaxed-now hyper aware of how she stood when she was irritated.

“Holy shit! You did wanna go! You were gonna say yes!” Her scoffs started to sound the same, she did her best to look disgusted at the idea, but she knew she wasn’t fooling Steve or Robin in the moment. “Shut up! I never said that!” he nodded “oh but it’s what you didn’t say that mattered!” she shook her head “Leave me alone! He was just being nice okay! Shit”

Steve and Robin exchanged a knowing look.

“I don’t think he was the only one being nice” Y/n’s jaw dropped at Robin’s words, she turned to face her and shook her head “Who’s side are you on!” Robin shrugged “whichever side gets you to tell me what happened in fourth grade”

“It’s not important!” Robin shook her head “clearly it is because you’ve fake hated Eddie since then, like yea he’s kind of a weirdo-but he doesn’t seem like a bad guy-” before steve could interject Robin pointed a finger at him “and you shush it, you’re a shit judge of character” Y/n nodded her head, taking a second to agree with the blonde.

“Please, it’s not important Rob” Robin raised a brow before nodding, deciding to brush everything off, she also took the opportunity to sneak off into the backroom, using the phone to call the Wheeler household back, telling them to lay off ‘O.F.G.T.F’ for now.

However, that would only last until the following Friday.

Everytime Y/n and Eddie had crossed paths they kept their conversation to a minimum, she felt more comfortable just acting as if everything last Wednesday didn’t happen. Instead she went back to her usual facade, keeping everything short. Of course he tried to stop her in her tracks when she was picking up the boys from school, he easily spotted her Jaguar in the parking lot, so he jogged up to it, however she was quick to brush him off-and the entire time she avoided making eye contact with him.

Now it was Friday night, at 8:30, and the boys were all waiting for Y/n to get there, she was slightly late because Fridays were always busy nights. Eddie always stayed after their sessions ended to clean everything up, so when he walked out of the building to see the guys all waiting outside, sitting on the curb, he raised a brow.

“Usually your chauffeur is early, what happened today?” his voice caused the three freshmen to look back, Dustin shrugged while Lucas spoke up.

“Family Video’s busiest days are Fridays and Saturdays-she’s probably stumped at work, so we just gotta wait” Eddie nodded his head “I’ll take you there if you guys want, vans kind of a mess but hey-it’s probably better than sitting on the cold ass concrete all night while your sister cusses people out at her job” The three boys looked at one another before nodding and getting up off the floor, they’d been in his van before, hell he’d driven them home a few times, however they all knew that if they didn’t show up at her job, or if no one called her the second they got home-which she probably would’ve missed due to being at work or on the road-that she’d freak out.

During the first half of the ride they all spoke about their DND campaign, and even about future campaign ideas, or campaign expansions alongside introducing new characters into the mix. Then Dustin simply word vomited-something he always did.

“Okay I can’t keep it in, Y/n won’t tell us-so please tell us what happened in fourth grade. O.F.G.T.F cannot be successful until we find out why she hates you-or pretends to hate you because based on what Robin told us-she definitely doesn’t hate you. We know people she hates, and she usually does more than just cuss and act all stiff and mean. Usually she resorts to violence-which is probably not a good thing cause like-violence. But I don’t think I know anyone who can fight like she can”

Everyone was silent after Dustin’s rant, Eddie looking at them through the crooked rear view mirror, letting out a deep sigh.

“We dated for like two weeks in the fourth grade, Y’know Sinclair she was my first kiss-even back then she was probably the prettiest girl in our class-not probably-definitely. But uh yeah, it isn’t my place to tell you what happened” Mike scoffed at that.

“Are you shitting me? That’s all we get? We’re trying to get you two together and all you can tell us is she was your first kiss and she was pretty-we all know Y/n’s pretty, she’s always been smokin’ hot-no offense Lucas-but there’s clearly something else there!”

The three boys-and Robin-were all fed up trying to understand what happened in elementary school between the two of them. All of them knew that Y/n held a mean grudge, she always held grudges, to those who were close with Y/n-it was easy to tell when she didn’t like someone. There was a difference between the few grudges she held versus the people she outwardly hated-and as much as Y/n hated to admit it outloud-her fight or flight had a lot to do with it, and the fight usually took over.

“She has like this grudge against me okay-I tried to talk to her about it-I tried everything! I think I honestly only made it worse, I can’t tell you exactly where I fucked up, but I know a lot of it has to do with that” they all nodded, motioning for him to keep speaking, Dustin going as far as to clear his throat to get him to continue.

“I dunno, it was after our first kiss, it wasn’t like one of those gross first kisses you hear about either, it was really quick, like a peck I guess. Anyways-it happened in the old treehouse at you place Sinclair-I don’t even remember exactly what I said, but I knew it bothered her. Then I tried apologizing but I never did because she didn’t want to talk to me, so I kept on trying to apologize after that for like weeks and never could because she was ignoring me, or she’d tell her dad not to let me around the house. Then we got into this huge fight the first week of summer break, and admittedly I fucked up here-but I was also an immature kid-but I remember shoving her back and she cut up one of her legs on the concrete. I probably said other fucked up shit too, but I know that was back after my mom split-I was definitely the asshole”

He paused, parking the van in front of the Family Video in one of the few empty spots before he took a deep breath.

“She tried to be there for me a few weeks after that, showed up to my uncle's trailer and everything-she rode her bright pink princess bike there, and she brought a bag of gummy bears with her-I guess she figured I wasn’t the happiest after moving and wanted to be nice. I slammed the door in her face. After that she stopped talking to me overall, and as the years went by when I tried talking to her she just got bitchier and bitchier. Granted-it’s kinda hot-so when we were like fifteen I started doing shit to bother her-cause I knew I’d get a reaction. But that’s what happened in fourth grade-she can probably go more into detail”

Lucas furrowed his brows, he knew his older sister had a scar on the side of her left calf, over the years it’d gotten smaller as she’d gotten taller, however it was still there to this day, and anytime he asked about it growing up y/n would reply with “I fell, don’t worry it’s fine Lucas, besides scars make you look badass”

He knew she added in the last part to reassure him that all of the scars he had from falling and scraping his arms and legs up were fine and that he shouldn’t care about how they look. The more Lucas thought about it, the more he realized that sure his sister was definitely a bitch, but she was also the reason that Lucas had some self esteem-and she was the reason Erica had the self esteem of a God. Y/n worked hard to make sure her younger siblings were comfortable in their own skin-just as she did with everyone that was close to her.

By the time they all left the van and made their way into the video store, they could see Y/n arguing with an older man, he looked to be in his forties, and he was arguing with her over what seemed to be overdue copies of films that stopped him from being able to rent anything else.

“Listen, if you return the damn movies, I’ll rent you the new ones. You have four that have late fees on them because they were due two weeks ago, you don’t return the movies, you don’t get shit from here. It’s a simple fucking rule”

The older man scoffed at her, causing her to crane her neck back slightly, brows raised, and a smirk forming on her face.

“That’s never been the case before, I don’t need some teenage brat trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. I turned in the films, it’s not my fault your shitty staff can’t keep track of anything. Where the hell is your manager anyways-clearly you don’t need a job working in customer service when you can’t talk to people”.

She slammed her hand on the countertop in front of her, and it clearly startled the older man.

“Wow, if only the fucking manager was actually here to deal with your shit, so sorry sweetheart but he’s not here because he never is, and for the record you old asshole, I’m twenty, so if you’re gonna call me a brat at least get my age bracket correct. Now, you didn’t return shit because it’s not in our system that you returned anything, if you don’t like how we run our store-aka the only movie rental store in all of Hawkins, Indiana, then you can drive to the next town over and lose their rentals. Also since you’re here you can pay those late fees, that’ll be eight ninety five. You’re holding up my God damn line, so either pay up or get the hell out.”

He looked taken aback, tossing the movies he wanted onto the counter before scoffing and storming out, Y/n rolled her eyes at him-she was tired, and she ran out of patience two hours ago. Fridays were the worst days of the week, that’s when everyone decided to come in, and they always came in after 6.

Robin noticed the boys before Y/n did, so she let all of them behind the counter-including Eddie-who took the risk of standing next to Y/n as she continued checking peoples rentals out, while mumbling for them to have a great night.

“So why do you work the register on Fridays?” she almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Eddie’s voice-she hadn’t even noticed him next to her. She sighed, glancing at him before scanning the barcode to the store’s last copy of Rambo for a group of teenage boys.

“Because I’m the only one that’s actually mean. Steve tries to talk people down when they’re angry and he only makes things worse because he’s overly confident and it annoys people even more, and Robin cracks under pressure and starts rambling-once someone made her cry. So we came to the conclusion that I’d be the only one working the register on busy nights. Also thank you for bringing them here-I haven’t had a break so I couldn’t call”

Y/n spoke without looking at him, instead focusing more on replacing the receipt paper in the cash register. However at the sound of the boys in front of her trying to rush her, she simply looked up and raised a brow “you either wait another two minutes, or you little shits can give me your IDs which clearly don’t say 18 considering you look like you haven’t hit puberty yet and I don’t let you rent the god damn movie. Now give me the damn money before I card both of you and call your mothers” the two boys stared at her with wide eyes, one extending a shaky hand holding cash.

“Thank you, now you have a wonderful night. Bring it back in a week or I’ll charge you all double on the late fees. Oh and don’t let me catch either of you going into the Adult section again. At least sharpie on a mustache or something first.” with that she slid them their receipt on top of the VHS tape and smiled while shewing them off.

“I dig the attitude, it’s hot” she rolled her eyes “y’know maybe the flirting wouldn’t be as bad if I wasn’t exhausted and pushed past my people limit for the day. I just wanna lay down and relax instead I have to deal with jackasses trying to rent shitty movies.”

With that the next person in line stepped up, holding six tapes and placing them on the counter, she hadn’t even looked up before speaking “limit is four per customer, you have fifteen seconds to pick the four you want or ill kick you out of my line. We close at nine thirty, odds are if you get kicked out of line you’re not getting any movies tonight.” with that the person quickly discarded the top two movies, sliding them to the other end of the counter and allowing y/n to ring her up.

“You need help?” she shook her head at Eddie’s question “no, what I need is a five day vacation to some fancy ass spa where they give you massages and shit, I could also use a very very hot bath in combination with a bag of gummy bears.” he laughed at that.

“They’re still your favorite huh?” she furrowed her brows, now finally looking up at Eddie. “What?” “Gummy bears-they’re still your favorite, you used to love them when we were kids, you almost always had a bag on you”

“You remember that?” he nodded his head, a small smile on her face as the two of them held eye contact, but the sound of another customer clearing their throat ruined the moment. Y/n rolled her eyes before looking at the customer, then eyeing the stacked movies, he didn’t look a day older than sixteen, so she grabbed the top movie-an easy to spot cover up-some random rom com-then she looked at the three films from the adult section.

“I’m gonna save you some embarrassment here and tell you to get the hell out of my line. You’re not a day older than sixteen, and if you try to lie to me and give me a shittily made fake ID from Ricardo Smith I will actually cut it up with scissors and make you pay me for my time” the kid was a blushing mess as he tossed the dvds into the large pile at the other end of the counter and speed walked out of the video store.

“Damn, that was ruthless, can’t let a kid live?” she shook her head at his comment “No Eddie I can’t cause when his mother sees him and his right hand going at it to Blondes Have More Fun Volume 69, then the stores gonna have to deal with her ass and by the store I mean me because once again Steve and Robin cannot handle confrontation.” She spoke as she checked another person out, she was at the point in the night that she was tired of reading off peoples totals, instead motioned to the register calculation and waited for their payment method.

Eddie took a small risk, he stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders-gently massaging into them and when Y/n let her head lean back for a second as she took a deep breath, he took that as a silent thank you. He expected her to smack his hands away, and yet she was practically melting under his touch. He slid his hands under the green vest-getting a better grip of her shoulders through the thin material of her t-shirt, and in the moment Y/n’s brain had gone into autopilot.

She’d done this job enough to do it perfectly by muscle memory, it just took her a few more seconds than usual to count the cash given to her.

Robin was working behind the counter to get all the returned VHS tapes into one pile and all of the grabbed but not rented tapes into a bin for Steve to stock on the shelves, she easily recruited the help of Mike and Lucas, while Dustin helped Steve. Robin called them her free labor-which was honestly necessary on days like these.

“Do you see those two? He’s giving her a freaking shoulder massage! And she’s letting him!” Robin spoke in harsh whispers to the boys next to her, the two of them glancing over to the front register, eyes widening, then they waved their hands in the air to get Dustin’s attention-who elbowed Steve and they all looked over at Eddie and Y/n. Everyone had a smile on their face outside of Steve who was shocked and had his usual confused expression, to which Dustin sighed and replied with “I’ll tell you later”.

“Your hairs not usually up y’know” she sighed “I get hot sometimes, especially when people are constantly getting on my last nerve” he nodded his head-knowing she couldn’t actually see him, but she slightly flinched and let out a small hiss when he moved one of his hands-accidentally placing the cold metal of his rings against the back of her neck. “Shit sorry”

“It’s okay-just kinda cold”

After they closed up the store Eddie hesitated to try asking her out again, he debated it, but he decided it wasn’t the right time. Instead he headed back home, a large smile on his face the entire drive home.

However that didn’t stop everyone else from questioning Y/n-who was working on cleaning off the countertops, a smile on her face as she did it, and for once she didn’t hate the feeling in her stomach, rather she welcomed it.

“What’s got you smiling like that-oh wait I think the question is who? Hmmm?” Robin smiled, lightly bumping her hip against Y/n’s while wiggling her brows, everyone now stood around the store, cleaning up and organizing, and it was quiet in the store as they’d turned off the sound system after the tapes kept getting stuck.

“Oh shut it Rob” the blonde nodded her head “it seems like someone has a little bit of a crush to me” y/n tried to hide her smile, she felt like a walking cliche-the ghost of Eddie’s touch still lingering against her skin-or maybe that was just her exhaustion setting in-but she couldn’t even deny Robin’s accusation-because part of her knew it was true.

“So does fourth grade still matter hmm?” The sentence reminded Y/n of the entire reason she stopped talking to Eddie, and now her smile dropped as she rolled her eyes. “Yes it still matters.”

The eldest Sinclair moved to a different counter, now aggressively spraying it down in cleaner, her jaw clenched while she wiped the vinyl in circular motions. They all left her alone for about ten minutes, then of course they all had to bring it up-that and the fact that Dustin was spilling everything to Steve-who scoffed at Dustin’s retelling of what Eddie had told him.

“Yeah he forgot two of the most important parts of the story.” Dustin raised a brow “and how would you know that?” Steve tilted his head, one of his classic ‘are you serious’ expressions on his face “I was there-I’ve been friends with Y/n since we were kids Dustin.”

Of course, Y/n overheard them, she was only a few feet away, and with little to no background noise it wasn’t difficult to hear one another talking at a normal volume.

“It was a bet. I was the butt of the joke. He’d admitted it to me after our shitastic first kiss, he said that he’d won the bet, and I was confused-but he already said it outloud on accident. So he went on a tangent about how he’d never actually liked me before his friends bet him like twenty bucks or some shit to ask me out-sure we were just kids but that shit hurt. Especially because I thought we were friends.” She paused for a second, letting out a deep breath to stop herself from tearing up.

“He started to word vomit-the way Robin does when she’s nervous-or the way Dustin does when he’s thinking. He told me all of his friends thought I was ugly, and that they wanted to see if he would actually go through with ‘dating me’-whatever the fuck that even equates to as a fourth grader. Then he admitted that kissing me got him another twenty bucks. Let’s also not forget the fact that I wanted to forgive him, hell I convinced myself to forgive him. I knew what happened with his Mom, she split and he moved to Forest Hills, so I rode my stupid little pink bike across fucking town to go see him and see if he was okay”

She looked up now, her eyes glossy as a singular tear slipped down her cheek, everyone saw it-no one said a single thing. “Y’know what he said. He said that the bet was over and he didn’t want to talk to my ugly ass anymore, then he went on to tell me to leave him the hell alone, called me a stalker, and felt the need to reiterate the fact that he thought I was ugly. So yeah, maybe I am childish for holding the grudge about fourth grade, but when your entire self esteem is tanked and it takes you until your sophomore year of highschool to actually love yourself because of some stupid boy in the fourth grade-you have the right to hold that grudge.”

She wiped the tears off of her face “and y’know what? He never even apologized to me, instead he got more fucking annoying and more obnoxious and he always-always did his very best to get under my skin. He’d cut me off, or he’d say these stupid slick comments, and he would just piss me off to no end. Sure I’ve started my fair share of arguments, and yeah I am a bitch to him, and I will continue to be a bitch to him. But he’s never even apologized, and now knowing that he doesn’t even fucking remember it? I’m supposed to want to jump into his stupid arms and just embrace him and his stupid curly hair and his stupid cologne and his stupid big brown fucking eyes.”

Everyone was silent and she nodded her head a few times, a sad smile on her face.

“That’s what happened in fourth grade. That’s the reason I hate Eddie Munson. Because he never even fucking apologized. We were friends y’know. We did our stupid third grade science fair volcano together-he was one of my best friends as a kid. Then he just wasn’t, because I wasn’t as pretty as the blonde haired blue eyed girls. Now please for the love of God let this stupid shit go. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

She went to the back storage room, taking off her vest, and grabbing her bag. She then left the room, still sniffling slightly.

“Lucas, are you coming home tonight or staying the night at Mikes?” he glanced over at his sister before looking back at Dustin and Mike. “I’m gonna uh-stay at Mikes if that’s cool with you” she nodded her head “yeah that’s fine. Rob, do you need a ride home? Steve take the boys home” She shook her head, and with that Y/n left the store, getting into her car and playing the mixtape that Robin had made her as she drove home.

Meanwhile everyone still remained at Family Video, deciding to give y/n space after that heavy confession-but now they knew two things. One Eddie needed to apologize to her, and two they needed to tell Eddie where he fucked up. Well they knew three things technically-Y/n definitely has a thing for Eddie-and maybe she always had-but it’s something that she will forever ignore and suppress because of how he made her feel.

So that’s what sparked Operation Apology Accepted-which also included Robin, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas showing up at Eddie’s trailer two days after to unpack everything that Y/n had shared with them, to the point that they’d all taken turns explaining parts of the story to him-and they all watched as Eddie’s eyes widened, all of the memories suddenly connecting and everything making sense.

The entire time he was trying to apologize she didn’t want to hear it-and he now realized that she was right to not want to hear anything-especially after knowing the lasting impact it’d left on her. Of course Eddie knew all about his peers impacting his self esteem, he was never popular, and for a while he’d been the butt of the joke, but as he got older he embraced the “the freak” title which led to him building up his own confident facade, but underneath all of that he was still the stupid kid projecting his own pain onto his best friend.

These realizations led Eddie to spending the next week and a half trying to talk to Y/n, and every single time he tried to catch her-whether it be at her job, or at the town library, or when she’d pick up her siblings, or when she went to Erica’s middle school dance competitions-she would simply ignore him and move away from him.

He knew he had to apologize to her, he knew he had to let her know that he never meant any of it, that he’d practically been in love with her since they were kids, that he thought she was the prettiest girl in their grade as kids, and that the only reason he accepted the bet was because he knew he would finally be able to admit his feelings to her-but as a kid he was stupid-in fact he was so stupid that he word vomited that things started as a bet over a measly forty dollars at the worst possible time, and when y/n got mad-what did he do? He just said whatever would make her want to leave him alone-because he knew she wouldn’t want anything to do with him after that.

Then his mom split, and he went from being an idiot to a hurt, angry, idiot. So he started to project that onto the people in his life, and y/n just happened to be one of them. He even remembered shoving her-something he should’ve never done-something he regretted doing.

Eddie Munson knew one thing, he was absolutely in love with Y/n Sinclair, and he always had been. But he needed to prove that to her, and he needed to start with an apology for his stupidity, he knew he couldn’t make up for the pain he caused her, but he knew the apology was a start.

Which is what led him to standing in her room awkwardly at six fifty-four on a Tuesday afternoon. Lucas told him that she got home from her classes and work at seven, so he let Eddie in, and now the man was pacing back and forth in a bedroom he hadn’t been in since he was nine. Granted it was a lot different, the once pink paint now replaced with white, but her walls were covered in posters, tickets, signs, and she had a large wall shelf near her closet which displayed her cheer trophies, starting from the sixth grade leading through the twelfth. She had her art work up on the walls, and all of her furniture was originally white, some objects covered in stickers, others were clearly worn-but the entire room fit her.

He placed the large stuffed cartoony octopus on her bed, alongside that he’d gotten her sunflowers, and that was solely there to lighten the blow of Eddie being in her room. Everything else was going to be said, and he sure as hell hoped she wouldn’t knee him in the groin and kick him out-but that was also something he tried to prepare himself for-knowing he’d just have to take the hit and walk it off.

Another few minutes passed before the door opened, followed by Y/n letting out a small yelp at the sight of Eddie-then she furrowed her brows, looking at her bed. She shushed him with a singular finger as she walked towards her bed, picking up the small card next to the sunflowers.

‘All I need is ten minutes, please’ she knew his messy handwriting anywhere, he hadn’t ever grown out of it. So she picked up the sunflowers, opened her closet and pulled out one of the vases she’d made in her pottery elective and placed them inside before grabbing the water bottle from her bag and pouring the water inside, following it with the water from the nearly full bottle on her desk.

He watched as she moved in silence, placing the vase on top of her dresser which sat adjacent to her window. Then she took off her shoes, followed by her socks and placed her shoes on the shoe rack in her closet and her socks in her dirty clothes hamper. Once she finished doing that she sat on her bed-holding the Octopus again while glancing at him.

“I know they’re your favorite-cause they uh-they have three hearts.” she nodded her head at him, her expression unreadable while she stared at him. It was something she’d gotten good at, yes she had a temper, and yes she wore her heart on her sleeve most of the time, however when it came to moments like these, she knew how to keep herself composed and almost looking numb to the world around her.

Internally Y/n was screaming, she wanted to start throwing things at Eddie the second she saw him, she wanted to trash the flowers, she wanted to burn the card and tell him to get the hell out, she wanted to do a lot of things, but after a week of crying herself to sleep in an almost heartbroken manner, she figured she’d listen to whatever the hell he had to say-especially if her younger brothers were in on it.

“Are you not gonna say anything-no-okay that’s totally fine-uh I just uh I came to apologize. Which I know is super late and super overdue and probably doesn’t mean shit to you anymore, especially because I kind of forgot why you hated me, then everyone kind of told me-why? I don’t even know because you hate me-and I deserve to be hated for what I did cause shit I was a dickhead-but I just I need you to know-that I-that I lo-no sorry that’s not it. Uh that I’m sorry.”

She furrowed her brows, blinking a few times, tilting her head in a confused manner.

“I’m not really good at this kind of thing y’know, I’m kind of a coward, I don’t really like confrontation-it's’ all an act-and I know that you know that it’s all an act because you see right through my shit which is why it’s always been so hard to get close to you because jesus you see through everyone's shit and yea I knew you weren’t as happy go lucky and positive as you wanted people to think you were, but you have these walls up and they're like a russian gulag’s walls-they’re like impenetrable and shit I’m the reason they’re even there in the first place because nine year old me was such a little prick”

Y/n stiffled a laugh at that, nodding her head slightly, he was rambling, it was clear he was nervous, and somehow she found it comforting. She found him comforting-even if he was the cause for her heartbreak-and for her anger. He was also the cure.

“I’m just so sorry I said that shit about you, I’ve never in my life thought you were ugly-jesus christ I was so in love with you as a kid but I could never even tell you because I was a coward, and then they made that stupid bet to me and I was like ‘sweet heres a way to get the girl and also get some money’ cause y’know when you’re a kid you’re stupid and concerned with forty dollars-but I mean I deal pot so I guess i’m still concerned with forty dollars.”

He took a pause, running his hands through his messy curly hair, while also fanning himself “jesus is it hot in here or is that just me? Do you mind if i just-” with that he took off his denim vest and leather jacket, leaving him in his hellfire shirt. “-I was wrong to call you ugly and to say all that mean ass shit because I was freaking out and I was already hurting and I was so afraid to tell you in that moment that I really liked you and I thought you’d reject the hell out of me-even though it makes no sense thinking back on that-so I just said whatever I thought would make you hate me, and clearly it worked because we’re both twenty and you still hate me” he placed his hands on his hips for a second, avoiding making eye contact while he looked up at the roof.

“Then you showed up to my uncle’s trailer, and you had those gummy bears, and I knew it took you a while to get there, and I was just doing so fucking shitty, I was so hurt over my mom and I had like no real friends left because you were probably the best friend I had as a kid, and I felt so fucking miserable so I just projected it all onto you and I should’ve never done that because it was mean and it was stupid and I’m so-so-so sorry that I made you feel less than, or that I made you question your beauty because listen to me Y/n-you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out”

He now looked down, holding eye contact with her, and he couldn’t stop the words from coming out “and jesus christ I did everything to get a reaction out of you after that because it was the only way you’d actually talk to me, and i knew I annoyed the shit out of you, but then you’d respond and you’d say the bitchiest shit and I’d be there feeling like I wanted to go home and think about you, and your attitude, and the way you knit your brows together and how pretty you look when you’re about to cuss someone out, and i felt like i was gonna kick my feet back and forth and twirl my fucking hair or something”

“I’m so sorry for making you feel the way I did, I’m so sorry that I never apologized to you and that I gave up on trying, because jesus christ y/n I’m so in love with you that it fucking hurts. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids and I was such a little asshole”

Her eyes widened at that, jaw dropping at his confession as everything processed, she didn’t even realize she was standing and walking towards him until she was a few inches from him.

“Say it again Eddie” he blinked a few times, his breath hitched at her closeness to him “please Eddie I need you to say it again” he swallowed hard, eyes wide, and as she stared at him all she could see were emotions running wild in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you” that’s all it took for Y/n to place her hands on the sides of his face and pull him in, their lips clashing together at first, then molding together like the perfect match, one of her hands moved to the back of his neck-holding him against her as his hands found their place on her jaw-thumb lightly caressing the skin of her face as his other hand sat against her waist.

She poured all of her emotions into the kiss, the anger, the annoyance, the hatred, and most importantly the love she’d always had for him.

It was difficult for Y/n to navigate her feelings towards Eddie Munson, she’d gone most of her life equating the heartbreak she’d experienced to hatred, and as they got older she did her best to keep the anger from fourth grade, but eventually that anger and hatred turned into love. An emotion she could never really identify or process, she loved Eddie Munson. Not because he broke her heart as a child-no she loved Eddie Munson because even if he did break her heart, he was always around, he never truly left her alone, he was always somehow wedging himself into her life even when she tried to push him out.

Over the past week any time she thought through her relationship with Eddie she realized two things.

One- she valued his opinion of her above everyone else's, it was the same reason that throughout middle school she found herself looking in the mirror wondering what he would think of her hair, or her clothes, or her music taste. It was also the reason that in high school she dumped her ex boyfriend because of Eddie’s sly comments about the fact that she could do better-and he was right. She wanted to be the pretty popular girl that everyone wanted, most importantly she wanted to prove her 9 year old self, and his 9 year old self wrong-she was pretty, and she would use that to her advantage. so she settled for someone who would help that happen-and in the end she broke up with him because he was a self absorbed douchebag.

Hell, it was the entire reason that she kept painting and sculpting, everyone told her that it was a waste of time, but Eddie always complimented her work, even when she wasn’t looking or around, he’d write little notes about the in progress pieces, and he’d tape them to the back of the canvases, or he’d tape them to the base of the sculptures. She knew it was him, she even told him to ‘fuck off with the fake compliments’ once, to which he responded with ‘alas the only thing fake is your hate for me’.

The second thing she realized was that he was one of the most constant factors in her life, it wasn’t because Eddie was from the same shitty town she was, or because he was her self proclaimed arch nemesis, or even because they ended up being polar opposites in high school. No, he was a constant factor in her life because behind all of those sly comments and petty arguments he was always there when she needed someone around.

He always knew when to show up, it was odd, but whenever she needed someone around-there he was, making a sly comment about her friend group as she sat alone in the library, or he’d lean against the locker next to hers, complimenting her ‘cute little cheerleader outfit’, to follow it up with ‘didn’t know you were into halloween that much’. He was never truly malicious, and yet she was, but he still stuck around because deep down the both of them knew that they’d always find their way back to one another.

As enemies or as lovers, they were fine with either, but now, now Y/n Sinclair knew she was in love with Eddie Munson, and she was tired of denying that.

Taglist: @dmonchld @anxietyandtacos @1nfinitely-yours

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my future stranger things fics or Eddie Munson fics please send me an ask :), I’m in the process of making a new ST masterlsit and taglist doc so yea

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x sinclair!reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you

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