#Beverly is just standing a few feet away and having a great time

[yourbuerokrat2]

@cchipollo The fact, that before Q showed up Picard and Beverly were alone in the dark in some warehouse probably having another one of their 'moments' that Q just had to interrupt. And that Q really had to change his entire body type just for that representation. Also Q trying to ignore that Beverly even exists in all of the panels I have seen from that comic just screams petty jealousy.

Also if you did not know the mythological meaning of the laurel wreath (because I think you would like it): Basically Apollo dared to tell Eros that he had a bad aim and you do not insult Eros. So Eros shot two arrows, one of love through Apollos heart and one at the nymph Daphne about the 'aversion of love'. A chase where Apollo tried to reassure her that 'love' for the reason for her pursuit (I beg you, nymph, daughter of Peneus, remain! I pursue not as an enemy;), where he told her to at least flee a bit more carefully (I pray that you run more gently and restrain your escape, I myself will pursue more gently.) and that the reason she is running away is that she seems not to understand that he is Apollo, a god, and not some common hunter or shepherd (You don’t know, o thoughtless one, you don’t know whom you flee, and therefore you flee). This however only makes her continue to flee and she begs her father to help her and as a way to rescue her from Apollos love she is turned into a tree and since Apollo still loves her he kisses her and says:

The god said to her, since you can't be my bride, at least you will certainly be my tree! My hair(s) will always have you, my lyres [will have you], my quivers [will have you], o Laurel;

(the texts from Apollos words are taken from Ovids Metamorphoses: https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Translation:Metamorphoses/Daphne_and_Apollo)

He goes on further what he intends for laurel to mean.

So, I like to think that Picard is less focused on Qs peacock-like display and more on the laurel branch, thinking how fitting it is. Just that nobody is going to turn him into a tree in order to get Q to leave him alone.

Also, you really gave Q the body of a young greek god, I gotta give you that.

felt really REALLY normal when i saw this comic panel ha ha ha !!!!

[just-jordie-things]

Insecurities - Richie Tozier

word count: 4319 warnings: swearing summary: Richie’s greatest fear is not being good enough for her- and It knows to use that against him ___

Richie Tozier loved his girlfriend.  He idolized her, he prioritized her, and every day that he was with her felt like a miracle.  She was his favorite person, the light of his life, and he was so goddamn in love with her that it consumed his entire being.

Thing was, (y/n) was out of his league, and his friends and peers reminded him of it, every, fucking, day.  Either with a joke about how he landed a girl like that, or a comment about how she’ll find someone better too.  His friends weren’t purposefully being assholes, and they never knew how deep their words could cut into Richie.  But he’d never told them how insecure he really was.

(y/n) never thought anything of it.  She loved Richie and that’s all that mattered.  He made her happier than she ever could have imagined herself being in this town.  In this dreary place she lived, he managed to be a ray of spontaneity and sun that she was grateful for every day.  She longed to tell him how much she loved him, she’d never gathered the courage to say it before, but always felt the words burning in her throat. She knew her friends were teasing, and never second guessed them or Richie’s feelings about it.  

That is, until Neibolt. ___

“This, is a bad fucking idea” Richie had muttered into her ear when they’d walked onto the property.

She wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance for wasting a day that they could have spent at the arcade, or out of his own fear for trekking into the obviously haunted house.

If it was fear, she knew he wouldn’t say anything about it.  So instead, she grabbed his hand and gave him a smile.

“But it’ll make for a great story!” She’d declared.

(She has a tendency to reprimand him on his idiotic ideas, and he always argued that he would have a good story to tell later.  So when she repeated his words back to him, he glared a bit)

(y/n) winked, before giggling because Richie always made a funny face when she winked at him.  After dating her for a year or so, he has never gotten used to the sight of her winking at him.

But then again, a part of him was still in disbelief that she was his girlfriend and she was winking at him.

He tugged her closer to his side by her hand as they walked into the house.

“Oh, gross” Eddie winced, and continued to complain the further they walked into the hall.

The clubs’ steps gradually slowed.

“What the fuck?” Richie hissed, eyes narrowing while he looked around.  “This is a fucking crackhouse-“

He stopped abruptly when there was a loud creaking, and the whole group froze in place. ��They went silent, ears on alert for the next haunting sound.

Richie’s hand tightened around (y/n’s), making sure that she was secure at his side.  She looked up at him, brows furrowed a bit, clearly conflicted about Bill’s plan.

Another creak sounded, and her eyes shot towards the sound, just in time to see a door slowly swinging open.  To their surprise, no one, or nothing, appeared in the doorway.  It only revealed an empty room.

When Mike took a few tentative steps towards it, (y/n’s) feet also began to move, as if on instinct, her brain told her not to let her friend investigate alone.

“(y/n)” Richie called for her in a hushed voice as she pulled her hand out of his hold.

She glanced back at him as if to say ‘I’m alright’, and then moved swiftly on the tips of her toes up to Mike.  They shared a look, before nodding their heads, and walking into the room.

As she examined the old run-down bedroom, she felt her heartbeat steady, as did her breathing.  The floorboards were worn and creaky, and the walls had indescribable stains on them, but there was nothing more to it.

“It’s just old” Mike said, a similar expression of relief on his face.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” (y/n) looked back out to their friends to assure them that they were safe.  “It was nothing-“

Before the word could even leave her mouth, the door creaked again, and slammed shut before anyone could move.

“(y/n)!” Richie was the first to leap to action, but by the time he’d gotten to the door, it was already locked.  And no matter how much he yanked and pulled on the rusty knob, it would not budge.

She was pounding her fists against the other side of it, and from the sounds of it, he was pretty sure Mike was trying to kick the door down from the other side.

“(y/n)! (y/n) it’s gonna be fine! I’m gonna get you out!” RIchie hollered, enlisting in the help of Bill and Beverly in trying to kick open the door.

But even as everyone was kicking, it was no use.  The door would rattle in it’s frame, and not crack even a little bit.

“It’s It!” Beverly declared, trying to get the boys to halt in their frantic kicking before they hurt themselves.  “Guys- Richie- we won’t be able to break it open, it’s like- cursed, or something”

He didn’t want to give up that fast, he wanted to keep kicking this door until his shoes were worn through and his feet were bruised, until (y/n) was free.

“It’s alright!” (y/n) called from the room.  “Mike found a part of the wall that’s caved in, we’re gonna try to break through it to the other side of the hall, okay?”

“W-we’ll meet you o-over there” Bill said, already heading around the corner of the hallway with Stan.  Even though it was clear she’d only been informing one person.

“Richie,” She spoke again.  “Go on, I’ll be fine, Mike’s here with me, I’ll see you in a couple minutes, okay?”

She was trying so hard to keep her voice brave, but he could hear it begin to crack, even through the door.

“I’m not fucking leaving you-”

“Richie, go, I don’t want you standing alone out there,” (y/n) ordered.  “I gotta go help Mike with the wall, see you in a minute”

He could barely hear her footsteps take off, and then leaned forward to press his ear against the wood, hoping to hear them breaking through with ease.  But now he couldn’t hear a thing.

Richie spun around, about to alert Eddie and Ben how oddly enough he couldn’t hear their friends tearing through a wall.

But Eddie and Ben weren’t there.

“Guys?” Richie hollered, breaking into a jog in hopes to catch them around the corner, where Mike and (y/n) were supposed to meet everyone.

But no one was there either.

“Hello!? Guys!? Where’d you go!?”

He began to yell a bit louder now, rushing around anywhere he could in search of his friends, but he hadn’t found, or even heard anyone.  How had they abandoned him so fast? Didn’t they notice?

“Richie?” A scratchy but familiar voice called from behind him.

He turned on his heel and was instantly relieved at the sight of (y/n).

“Oh, thank fucking god” He breathed out heavily, taking swift steps towards her.

She, however, took a sharp step backwards.

“Don’t come any closer” She snapped, and Richie froze on the spot.

“W-what-?”

“Stay the fuck back!” She screeched now, so loud that the harsh words echoed down the halls.  They seemed to ring in Richie’s ears for a lifetime.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.  But he did as she asked, and didn’t move any closer to her.  “Did something happen-?”

“Jesus Richie fuck off!” She snarled now, and if that wasn’t shocking enough, she stormed up to him, and shoved him against his chest with both hands, mustering all the force she could.

Richie stumbled until he tripped over his feet and fell to the ground.  He couldn’t believe she was strong enough to push him to the ground like that.  (y/n) wasn’t frail by any means, but she shouldn’t have been able to knock him down with such ease.

“Blabber and hover- blabber and hover with you!” She was yelling down at him now, and Richie pushed himself up on shaky arms.

This was incredibly unlike her-

“You can never just leave me the hell alone! Can you!?” She went on, voice booming unnaturally with each bark.  “Always on my ass, always crowding me!”

If he wasn’t so afraid, he would have noticed how with every word, her teeth turned more ragged, and sharper.

“Do you think I enjoy it? Being stuck with you? It’s a goddamn burden! I can’t stand to be around you- I fucking hate you Richie Tozier!”

“Y-you’re not- this isn’t-” He could barely speak his throat was burning so bad from holding back tears.

This couldn’t be (y/n)... (y/n) would never…

“What, I’m not real?” The word came out in a vicious snarl, and suddenly she warped into another figure.

He wasn’t sure if this one was worse.

“You piece of shit!” Henry Bowers barked.  “Haven’t I told you to stay the fuck out of this town!?”

Richie lunged himself backwards, trying to crawl away from this horrible nightmare as fast as possible.  But the more he tried to scurry away, the worse the image in front of him became.

“You’re a freak!” (y/n) screamed in his face again.  “You’re a loser, Richie.  You think anyone would want to be with you?”

He couldn’t breathe- the tears- the panic- it all welled up inside of him and he knew he was going to explode soon.

“This isn’t real, you’re not real, you’re not her”

“Aren’t I though?” Her voice dropped to a haunting whisper, and she leaned in close to him.  “Aren’t I!?” She screamed.

Richie closed his eyes, shaking his head rapidly and hoping that when he opened them again, she’d be gone, and he’d wake up in his bedroom.  This was just one terrible fucking nightmare, it’ll be over soon-

“The real (y/n) doesn’t have the guts to fucking tell you” She snarled, reminding him of his reality.

“Stop it!” Richie yelled, unable to hold back his tears any longer.

“She’s never been able to speak up and say-”

“Go away!” He begged, voice cracking in desperation.

“She knows she’s too good for you, and let’s face it fuckface, I am too good for you”

He didn’t have it in him to beg It to leave him alone, as he broke down sobbing into his hands, enduring the cuel wrath.

“She hates you, for dragging her down, for hanging off of her like a dog,” Her tone slowly warped into something more squeaky, and masculine, until she wasn’t exactly the image of (y/n) anymore.  “Ohhh… she haaates you Richie”

When he dared to look, he was met with the gruesome sight of a circus clown.  A rather large circus clown.

“But you can stay, Richie, you can float with us!”

“No- no…. no no no!”

He covered his face again as he pleaded and wept uncontrollably.  He wished that It would just get it over with, because he couldn’t take this torture anymore.

“Richie!” A voice screamed.  Not the scream that he’d heard just moments ago, but a worried shriek.

Even still, he kept his hands planted safely over his eyes.  It couldn’t get in his face if he couldn’t see the form it had taken.

“Richie- Richie,” The voice panted again, this time soft, and close to his ear.  “Hey, it’s me” She murmured.

Gentle hands grasped onto his wrists, and pulled on his arms until he revealed his face.

He was met with the concerned eyes of his girlfriend, her brow so furrowed there were lines on her forehead, and a pout on her lips that he’d never seen there before.

“Babe,” She whispered so soft he was certain that he’d imagined that too.  “What happened?”

He flinched when she reached for him, and the action shattered her heart to pieces, but she tried her best not to show it.  Tentatively, she reached her hand out to place against his cheek, pulling her sleeve over her palm to wipe away the flow of tears.

“You’re- are you-”

“I’m real,” She nodded, beginning to realize what had happened.  “It’s me, promise”

His eyes wandered her features unsurely, and she sighed.

“Do you want me to prove it?” She murmured, and began to speak before he could even nod his head.  “On our first date, you called me sweet cheeks, and then got so embarrassed about it that you tripped and dropped your ice cream” There was a weak smile on her lips at the memory, hoping that it would be enough to calm Richie down.

He let out a shaky whimper, before surging forward and wrapping his arms around her torso.  He held her so tightly that she had to control her breaths, but it was alright because he believed her and things were going to be okay.

“It’s alright,” She cooed into his ear as he cried into the crook of her neck.  “I know, it’s awful”

One of his hands cradled the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair.  The other was fisting the material of her jacket.  He couldn’t speak, he was crying so hard, ut it was enough to know that she was here right now.

(y/n) rubbed his back in soothing circles as she held him for a few moments longer, until she knew it was time to go, and pulled away.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here,” She whispered, wiping his opposite cheek tenderly.  “Eddie broke his arm” She told him as she helped him to his feet, and intertwined their fingers as they raced out of Neibolt.

The others, besides Eddie, were standing in the front yard.

Eddie was being shoved into his mother’s car, while Mrs K was scolding their friends.

“I knew my boy shouldn’t be playing with the likes of you all,” She rambled, snarling at Beverly in particular.  “This is all your fault.  All your fault! I hope your proud of yourselves for maiming my boy!”

She stormed off to her car, and Eddie could barely wave out the window before she’d driven off.

“I know where It is,” Bill spoke after a beat passed.  “And n-next time we’ll come p-prepared”

Richie’s eyes widened before glaring at the boy, finding it ridiculous that he thought it was a good idea to not only come back, but to come back and retaliate.

“No next time, Bill!” Stan begged, shaking his head.

“We have to,” Beverly said.  “Ben, you said so yourself, It comes back every twenty-seven years-”

“Fine! I’ll be forty and far away from here!” He answered.

With his words, a layer of tension settled over the group.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t save Georgie,” Richie grumbled, pulling away from (y/n) to head to his bike.  “But you can still save yourself” He finished, brushing past Bill’s shoulder.

“N-no,” Bill stammered, pushing Richie back by the shoulder.  “T-take it back!”

“Face the truth, Bill! You’re chasing a lie-!”

He couldn’t even finish before Bill pushed harder, and swing a fist against Richie’s cheek.

“Bill!” (y/n) screeched, leaping forward to break them up before something could happen.

She grabbed Richie by the elbow before he could land a punch, and yanked him back while Mike grabbed a secure hold on Bill.

“Face it! We’re losers! That’s it!” Richie snarled.

He shrugged (y/n’s) hold off of him, and her eyes shot to his, broken, and hurt.

“I’m going home.  I don’t want to get fucking killed too” He muttered, and when he stormed off to his bike, Bill didn’t stop him this time.

“R-Richie?” (y/n) called brokenly, stumbling forward on wobbly legs, but it didn’t matter, he was already zooming down the street as fast as he could.

Before she could crumpe to the ground, Beverly grabbed a hold of her, hugging her against her side comfortingly.

It was silent as everyone dispersed, barely giving each other a second glance as they rode off.

Beverly hugged (y/n) tight before she got on the back of Bill’s bike.  Murmuring a soft, ‘see you later’ that (y/n) wasn’t quite convinced of.

She didn’t have the energy in her to bike home, but the only other option was to sit outside Neibolt, alone, and the sun was beginning to set, so she gathered what little strength she had left in her to slowly make her way home. ___

When she came home past dinner, covered in muck and bruises, her parents barely batted an eye.  Even as she let out a soft cry with every step up the stairs, it was like they tuned her out completely.

It had thrown her around like a ragdoll after she tried to defend Eddie.  As brave as she’d tried to be, she’d been terrified, shaking straight down to the bone as she forced herself to stand in front of him.

The demonic clown had simply swing an arm, and sent her tumbling across the ground.

It took a long shower to get all the dirt scraped off her skin.  But even as it was washed down the drain, the memories of this afternoon would haunt her for life.

Maybe Bill was right.  Maybe It needed to be stopped now, before he could just keep coming back and traumatizing a new generation of children every thirty or so years.  But even if she really wanted to kill the creature, she wouldn’t even know where to begin.  And her brain was already swarmed with a worse thought,

Was Richie done with me?

She sniffled a bit at the idea, but wiped her eyes before they could be filled with tears.

No, he was just angry, and scared, he would never… he wouldn’t just leave like that… would he?

A few knocks on her window made her jolt up in bed, nerves spreading throughout her body like electricity.  She instantly thought that It had found her, and was back to finish what he’d started.

But as she rushed to turn on the lamp sitting on her bedside table, her muscles relaxed to see it was only Richie, waiting rather impatiently for her to unlock her window.

She threw the covers off of her, and moved as quickly as she could to let him in.

As soon as she pushed the window upwards, he was crawling in, oddly silent.

“Hey,” She murmured, not wanting to alert her parents downstairs that her boyfriend had snuck in.

He’d done so a million times before, and they’ve never gotten caught, but today was a rather awful day and she didn’t want to have one more thing ruined.

“Are you feeling be-”

“We need to talk” Richie mumbled, effectively cutting her off with the upsetting words.

“O-Okay…” (y/n) answered, trying not to jump to conclusions.  “What… about..?” She asked slowly.

“I think-” He started to speak quickly, but just couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.

He couldn’t even look her in the eyes.

“We- we should- we need to break up”

It was like her heart plummeted right out of her body, sending every nerve to go numb.  She had to have heard him wrong- this wasn’t like Richie- maybe this wasn’t even the real-

“I- I want to break up” He added in an even quieter voice.  She caught the crack in his words, and she shook her head in confusion.

“What?” She could barely manage to say the one word.

“I know you heard me,” Richie sighed, eyes finally flickering up to hers.  “Come on (y/n) don’t make this any more difficult than it-”

“You’re the one being difficult!” She whisper-hissed, eyes widening a bit in frustration.  “What are you doing? Wh- why are you-”

“Come on,” Richie whispered.  “Don’t do that-”

“Give me one reason why we should break up” (y/n) crossed her arms.  She wasn’t going to let him walk away that easy.  Something was up, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

“We’re not a good fit, alright?” He answered, volume raising a bit above his previous murmur.  “We don’t work, and I was a fucking idiot to think that we would”

“Richie…” (y/n) sighed in disbelief.

“You wanted an answer-”

“Where is this coming from?” She asked with a shake of her head.  “I know you don’t really want to break up-”

“Well we have to!” He yelled, and they were both silent for a minute, trying to see if her parents had heard him.

When there was no response from downstairs, she snapped back at him.

“Why?” She stressed the word, desperate for him to just fess up whatever it was that was bothering him.

“Why? Do you even have to ask, (y/n)?” Richie asked.

Her eyebrows knitted together as he spoke in such a harsh tone.  Richie never talked to her like that.

“Look at me, (y/n)! I mean, come on, it was only a fucking matter of time before you got bored and realized how much of your time you’ve wasted on me!”

If she’d thought him trying to break up was horrible, this was even worse.

“Oh, Rich-”

“I’m a loser, (y/n), don’t you see that? Don’t you see how terrible for you I am?”

He was breaking her heart with every word.

“Haven’t you heard them? What people say? What our own friends say?” He asks her, but she doesn’t answer, because she can’t.  “I am dragging you down with every second of being with you”

“N-no-” She can’t hardly choke out the word, but Richie vents on anyways.

“Might as well just end things now, before one of us gets hurt”

He turns around, as if to head back out her window, but (y/n’s) faster.  She wedges herself in between his body, shutting and locking the window before he could just walk away.

“No, s-stop running away,” She cried, and when she looks up at him, she realizes that he can’t look at her because he’s crying too.  “Richie,” She whimpers, shaky hands reaching up to cup his face, making him look down at her.  “That’s not true, none of that is true-”

“It is” He replies, brokenly.

She shakes her head, and steps closer to him.

“It lied to you,” She tells him.  “I know It probably told you some terrible, nasty things,”

Richie squeezes his eyes shut, and the next thing he knows, he’s falling to his knees.  But (y/n) follows, kneeling down with him and shuffling even closer.

“But babe,” She murmured, “It was lying, it was all a trick”

She could feel his tears slipping down his cheeks and over her fingers.

“I just- I don’t want to drag you down-”

“Drag me down?” She repeats in a whisper, thumbs stroking away his tears once more.  “Richie,” His eyes open when she says his name, soft and sweet-like.

She pushes his glasses up on top of his mess of curls so she can swipe away the tears under his eyes.

“You do nothing but lift me up,” She tells him.  “You’re my ray of sunshine in this terrible fucking town,” An anxious and uncertain smile trembles on her lips.  “And all those things you’re so worried about, I love about you,”

There’s a pause as her eyes flicker between his, before gently placing his glasses back on his nose.

“I’m in love with you,” She murmurs.  “I love you so much,” She repeats in a sigh, just in case he didn’t hear her the first time.  “So much”

A short breath of a laugh escapes him, and a small smile begins to tug on his lips as he looks at her.  He knows she means it, he can feel it, he can see it in her eyes that she’s being genuine.

He takes her hands from his face, setting them gently in her lap before cupping her face in his own hands.

“I love you too” He tells her, and before he can lean in, she’s shooting forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his firmly.

It’s unlike any other kisses they’ve shared.  It’s desperate, and careful, and loving, and conveyed every last drop of fear that they’d had in losing each other.  She’s kissing him so passionately that her chest is heaving, but she can’t bear to pull away now.

Richie holds her in his lap, and she’s wrapped up in his arms so securely that she’s sure, and she hopes, she’ll never be able to get out of them.

When her lips are swollen and her lungs are burning for oxygen, she finally leaned back slightly, but only by a few centimeters.

“You can’t leave me,” She tells him through heavy breaths.  Her eyes are still closed, but he’s staring intently at her anyways.  “I need you too much- don’t leave me”

He nods in agreement, caressing her cheek affectionately.

“Okay,” He hums, and kisses her lips chastely.  “I won’t… I won’t”

She falls forward, and embraces him tightly.

Richie’s arms wind around her lower back again, and they sit for a long time like this, catching their breath and holding onto one another firmly, so that neither can leave.

“We have to go back” Richie says after a long time.

“I know” She murmurs against his neck.

“We have to kill that fucking clown” He says, voice dropping it’s gentle tone, turning hard, and final.

“I know” She repeats, the same vengeful tone in her own voice.

Nothing was ever going to come between them again, that was for sure.

___

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie 

[soulwillower]

tozier • beverly marsh

(beverly marsh x reader smut)

part two of this series! <3

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here's my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of recreational drug use, oral sex (fem receiving), woooo thats it i think, unedited as usual!

[losers and reader are 20+ in this.]

2.6k words

♡

you sigh as you slam your pillow over your head, once again trying to drown out the noise of the group of howling, feral 20 year olds in the room next to yours. 

it's not even extremely late - it's only midnight, but you were up all day doing chores around the house and you got kept up late last night by richie, yelling as loud as he could at his pc while he drank enough monster energy's to power a small boat. you groan.  

you are (shockingly!) still very pissed at richie. you haven’t said barely any words to him, no matter how many times you’ve wanted to scream i fucked your best friend! 

you want him to feel exactly how you feel, because now you don’t even have your best friend to talk to about it. you sigh, flipping around. 

slowly, you rise from your bed and stalk into the hall, sighing as you hear stan uris through the door mutter something along the lines of fucking a girl in the shower. you try not to turn red as you take a moment to imagine that situation.... with him... you shake your head. he's probably talking some big game, anyways.

you push open the door, remembering what you'd gotten up for as you walk into richie's room, wrinkling your nose at the smell of weed. all the occupants look up, making your stomach tingle at the attention. you make eye contact with your brother.

"can you and your friends be a bit quieter?" you ask, knowing you sound like a brat but too annoyed to really care. richie scoffs, "this is my room." is all he adds and you roll your eyes. stan snorts from the corner and you throw a half hearted glare to him, which he returns with a half-smirk and a lifted brow. your stomach flips.

you ignore the burning in your face as you realize all six of richie's hot friends are staring at you, and you grumble. "we have a basement and a living room for a reason. bedrooms are for sleeping." you say and then you catch ben's eye and immediately turn red at his look and the words you'd used.

right.... you hadn't ever mentioned the other night with ben since it'd happened - he seemed perfectly content to just move on. still, you keep finding your mind slipping back to it and how good it felt to get back at richie while having a great time simultaneously.

“you’re such a prude, aren’t you?” richie mutters. you snap your head to him, narrowing your eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean, asshole?” you spit. 

richie smirks, lifting a brow. “you need to live a little, sis. just get laid or something.” 

in the corner of the room, ben huffs a short laugh.

you can’t even look at him, trying to hide your smirk as you open your mouth, about to drop the bomb that you actually did get laid the other night, as a matter of fact -

“l-lay off her, r-rich. i’m sure y/n do-does just f-fine.” bill says, a smirk on his face as he winks at you. you feel like you might pass out from his words, your face heating up. 

“what the fuck do you mean, denbrough?” richie then spits to bill, who smirks at you and then richie. 

“-he’s saying that y/n definitely gets way more than you do, trashmouth.” stan pipes up, and your chest may just fucking implode. you gape at stan, who just grins to himself and nods to richie, who’s fuming. you smile to yourself, your chest warm and fuzzy at his look. 

“they’re right, rich. i mean, have you seen her?” bev says, making you smirk, heart beating faster than you ever thought possible. you can’t believe the words falling from richie’s friend’s mouths - even if they’re just trying to piss richie off, you’re still flattered. 

“guys.” mike says, but he’s grinning and he shrugs with a wink when you make eye contact. 

richie looks like he could punch a hole through the wall above stan’s head. “shut the fuck up, you assholes. my best friends are not fucking allowed near my sister.” he hisses, face red in anger. 

“well isn’t that ironic.” you spit, glaring at him as you cross your arms. bev smirks as she looks at you and mike snorts into his hand in the silence. 

"god. can you just fucking piss off, y/n?" is all richie says, but then after second thought rises to his feet, "actually, i've got somewhere to be."

a little put off by his change in attitude, but more relieved for richie to be out of your hair, you grin. "finally." 

his friends all start to gather their things and you deflate a little at the thought of not being able to waltz around your house with tons of eye candy lingering at every corner, but at least richie will also be gone.

"get fucked, richie." you say as a farewell, turning to leave when beverly marsh speaks up from where she lays across bill's legs smugly.

"hey y/n, can i borrow a hair tie?" she asks, making your face turn pink as you look at her. you nod though, turning to walk to the bathroom in search of an elastic. she follows, shutting the door on her way out and pulling up her jeans a bit, making you swallow as you see a sliver of her stomach. 

you'd always thought she was hot - out of richie's friends, certainly one of the most well-rounded and tolerable, right up there with bill and stan. bev makes you nervous in a way that excites you and it's always been that way, since you first met her a few years ago.

she's humming a song you're not familiar with as she hops onto the counter, the sound of the front door shutting downstairs leaving you in relative silence.

why does she make you so nervous?

you rummage through the pull-out drawer and try not to stare at her figure in the mirror as you look up briefly. "y/n?" she asks and you look up at her in question.

"yeah, bev?" you ask, sounding breathless. you curse yourself silently as she smirks.

"i don't really need one." she says, making you look up and raise a brow. "really?" you ask, smiling at her as she grins at you, nodding and chuckling as she leans her head against the mirror. "i just wanted to get away from them. they're such assholes, sometimes. i like girls much more, anyways." she says and you almost choke as she winks at you.

your mind flashes, at that moment, to the hickey that'd been sprawled over cecily's neck at the pool the other day and you see red for a moment. then, your mind wanders to how it'd feel to have hickies like those pressed all over your own neck, from someone like bev. you clench your thighs and curse yourself, knowing bev was flirty but she probably wasn't actually interested. you're richie's sister, after all.

"don't you?" she asks, continuing your thought, and it makes you grin - maybe she did like you like that after all. you smile at bev, "we just get each other, don't we?" you say flirtily, leaning against the sink with your hands on either side of her thighs. you're unsure where this confidence comes from, but you think it has something to do with the way bev is staring at you.

her eyes glow with a challenge at your words and she boldly places a hand on your neck. she hums out, "exactly."

you're feeling confident as ever as you lean forward, clashing your lips against bev's harshly. she meets your lips with a fire and passion you barely knew existed and it takes you back as she pulls you close, legs wrapping around your waist.

her tongue is warm as it slides against your lips, making you groan into her mouth. you smell orange shampoo on her and a sweet perfume that engulfs you as she slides against you so you're both standing, your hand on her neck and waist and hers sliding down to grip your ass. you whimper lightly and she grins against your lips, mouth leaving yours to suck along the column of your throat. "bev..." you mutter, pulling her flush against you as her feet hit the ground and she suddenly slams you lightly against the wall. you gasp and her hands slowly move to palm your breasts.

you whimper as you tug on her shirt and she pulls away with glossy lips and a grin to pull her shirt over her head. you bite back a groan as your eyes scan her body, chest heaving as she watches you, a black lace bra contrasting against her soft skin and freckles.

you pull her back against you and her lips meet yours with fire, making you weak at the knees.

"you know, they're all gone." she whispers against your lips and you whimper as you feel her fingers dance across the apex of your thighs, slowly rubbing your clit over your clothes. "we're all alone."

her words send shivers down your spine.

you slowly pinch her nipple through the lace of her bra and she lets a small moan that makes you wetter than you already are and you bite your lip as she sinks to her knees. 

you run your hand through her fiery hair, gazing at her with need as she smirks up at you and presses kisses to your stomach. “god, bev. please.” you say quietly. 

she kisses your clit softly and you have to scrunch your eyes closed in order to not buck your hips in pleasure. 

the way she slides your underwear down your legs, kissing the skin as she goes gives you goosebumps and you have to grip the towel hanging next to you because you can feel her breath on your aching heat. "fuck." you say quietly, eyes screwed shut out of desperation.

bev lets out a small hum, one hand falling to your thigh to steady you as she licks a bold stripe up your heat suddenly. 

you let out a loud whimper, eyes opening and catching the sight of your reflection in the bathroom mirror - you're braced against the wall, bev on her knees in front of you as her tongue works slow figure eights on your clit, making your stomach clench and your toes curl.

her tongue makes you clench and she holds your legs open with her hand, moaning lightly as you tug on her hair. 

and then she slips a finger inside you, sliding easily into your heat and pumping fluidly, making your legs turn to jelly. 

she looks up at you suddenly through her thick lashes and grins as she presses a kiss to your swollen clit, slipping another finger inside you and moving with enough fervor to make you see stars. “does that feel good, babe?” she mutters lowly, making you melt and moan. 

"bev, oh my god." you say quietly, hand falling into her red strands and carding through the curls, tugging as her tongue returns to rub tight circles on your clit.

you're a whimpering mess, bucking your hips and gasping, trying to chase that pleasure building up in your body as bev's hands pin your hips back against the wall. 

your head falls back against it with a thud and you can't stop moaning her name, her tongue and fingers making you forget your own name. she pumps into you perfectly, hitting your spot perfectly as you whimper helplessly, chasing your high. 

"please, bev." you mutter desperately, your hips bucking and she suddenly pulls away from you, her lips glistening as she stares up at you, fingers stopping.

"already that close, y/n?" her voice is teasing, mischievous and alluring and it makes you whimper again. you grow red as you look away, nodding shyly. she tuts, pressing a small kiss to your clit. 

“someone needs to take better care of you.” she says lowly to herself, making your stomach erupt in butterflies. she flatters her tongue against you, swirling it and flicking against your clit as you let out another moan. “i’m so close, please.” you plead. her fingers slip into you again and you clench up again, her fingers hitting the perfect spot in you and you moan her name. 

you hit your high as you stare at her between your thighs, eye lashes kissing her cheeks as her tongue flattens and she laps up your juices, moaning quietly. you grow weak and her hand stabilizes you up as you ride out your high, clenching so tight around her that her hand stops. 

as she pulls away, she kisses your overstimulated clit and it makes you jump a bit. 

“fuck, that was so hot.” she says with a grin, kissing your stomach gently. you sniff lightly with a sheepish smile. "do you - you want to stay the night?" you ask, out of breath. she stands to her full height and grins at you, eyes bright and glowing with mischief, "hell yeah, babe."

when richie comes home the next morning, he’s startled to see his best friend beverly in his kitchen. "hey, what're you doing here, bevvie?" richie says, yawning into his hand and walking over to grab a slice of bacon from the plate next to the stove. 

beverly swats his hand before he can grab it and turns to him as she flips a pancake. "hands off, tozier. these are for your sister."

he lifts a brow, grabbing a cup to fill it with grapefruit juice as he shakes his head. "very funny. why are you here, though? for real."

beverly ignores his question. "where were you?" she answers with instead, which the tall boy regards with only passing suspicion. "i saw cecily last night." richie says into the rim of his cup casually, making bev gape at him. 

he's got the largest hickeys blossoming on his neck and a trail that goes downward, towards his shirt collar. bev rolls her eyes, “you’re a dick, richie.” she says. 

richie shrugs, looking at her with a grin. “y/n doesn’t care, she was just messing around about being mad.” “don’t think she was messing around when she rocked your shit the other day. that bruise just faded on your cheek.” bev states with a pointed brow. 

"well then we just don't tell y/n." he smiles with a wolfish grin and beverly rolls her eyes, her lips curving into a secretive smirk that richie barely picks up on. “so any reason why you decided to make breakfast in my kitchen?” he asks. 

bev grins, “oh, right. i fucked your sister last night. i figured it’d be nice if i made her breakfast for when she wakes up since i have to leave.” 

it’s silent as richie stares at her for a few moments and bev relishes in the feeling of finally shutting richie up for once. 

but the moment is over too soon as richie raises his brows, chuckling. “you’re fuckin’ weird, marsh.” he says.

beverly almost laughs at his oblivious stupidity. he doesn’t actually believe it? fine, she’ll let y/n have the pleasure of telling him eventually. revenge tastes good no matter if he knows or not.  

bev scribbles a note that says, “y/n ;)” and turns off the stove. 

“give your sister a kiss for me, kay tozier?” she asks with a wink, kissing richie’s cheek after she takes off maggie’s apron and puts the note next to the plate of pancakes and bacon. 

richie watches her leave with furrowed brows, still oblivious. 

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @brxken-heartsclub​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters

[kafka-ish]

a long time coming | r.t.

when a familiar face shows itself in derry, a familiar feeling picks up in richie’s heart

word count: 8,012

warnings/included: nsfw (smut, fingering, and regular vanilla sex, first time stuff), fluff (like... a conspicuous amount of fluff), fem!reader

a/n: gL gamers

-

y/n y/l/n was coming back to Derry. 

To any other bystander, this wasn’t news. However, to Richie Tozier, it was because Richie Tozier loved y/n y/l/n.

He loved her when they were five and she had introduced herself as the girl who moved in next door. He loved her when they were ten and she made friendship bracelets for both of them (which he would later find out she made friendship bracelets for all the Losers). He loved her when they were thirteen when he should’ve spent his time running from the bullies at his toes instead. And he loved her when they were fifteen when he was writing love letters. But she’d never see them because she was away at some fancy boarding school in New York, per her parents’ request. 

“I don’t see why you gotta go,” Richie said glumly. He was looking down and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. Even if this would be the last time he’d ever see her, it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. 

Richie was the last one y/n told about Hoosac School. But if y/n had the option, she wouldn’t have told him at all. It was hard enough for her to bid her goodbyes to Bill, Stan, Eddie, Bev, Ben, and Mike. 

Naturally, Beverly was the first one she told. She was the only other girl in the Loser’s Club and the one y/n hung out with the most aside from Richie. Beverly was a blubbering mess. The brown mascara she applied delicately was running down her cheeks in ugly streaks and her red hair would sit tangled on her head for the next few days. 

Bill was next, but Bill knew everything. He found out from Bev the next day and confronted her about it at school. And y/n would sob into his shoulder and ask him what to do. 

“Tuh-tell the others,” he said sympathetically. 

So she did. 

She told Ben, Eddie, and Stan in her next period she shared with him. Ben sadly stroked her arm and told her he could have one of his CupCakes at lunch. y/n smiled, the sweet gesture easing the pain from her mind. And she told him she would take him up on that offer only if they were orange flavored.

Eddie cried that day, but he passed it off as an allergic reaction to the different brand of air freshener Mrs. Clarke used. Stan and Ben were just kind enough to believe him.

Stan was always the voice of reason. He told her this would be a great opportunity to learn new things and make new friends, but he also made her swear she’d write him—them—every week and call every night. He thought y/n would laugh at him for being clingy and compulsive but she didn’t. She took his hand in his, squeezing it firmly when she assured him she’d call every night and write every week.

But a certain sadness washed over her when it was Mike’s turn to receive the news.

It was on an early Saturday morning when he did. She offered to help him out with the farm—partly to spend time with him and partly to get some wear in her new overalls she’d thrifted before she left.

“I know… you’ve probably already heard.” y/n swallowed harshly before continuing. She was aimlessly shoveling a hole in the ground and she stared at the soil as if it were his brown eyes because this would be harder for her to say than harder for him to hear. “I’m leaving Derry.”

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but Mike was able to comprehend her words just fine. “When?” They were both turned away from each other—her working on the hole and him working on the bean sprouts.

“A month after school lets out. Don’t worry, Mikey. There’s still time for me to help you on the farm.”

“Just so you can dig holes in my daddy’s soil? I don’t think so.” Both y/n and Mike laughed. For a moment, y/n had forgotten about the packed boxes in her empty bedroom and the plane tickets her parents kept in an envelope for June the first.

And now y/n stood in front of Richie only a few days after she’d be boarding that plane because she’d been putting off telling him the way she did with the rest of the Losers.

y/n was staring at his forehead, desperately trying to meet his eyes. She didn’t care if the last time he’d be seeing her was with smudged mascara and red eyes, but she needed to see him. “My parents are making me,” she repeated. “If it were up to me I’d..”

“Don’t go,” Richie said abruptly, cutting her off. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her—even if her lips were bitten raw and her eyes welled with salty tears that he’d kiss away in his dreams when he went to bed that night. “To hell with your parents. You can live with me, kid. It’ll be like college but without the debt.”

y/n sniffed. Even though Richie was the funny one, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Maybe if the words were coming from Bill, Stan, or Ben, but not Richie. Not when her whole life was in front of her and there was no sign of him in it.

Richie frowned because if he couldn’t put a smile on her face, he didn’t know what would. A strong silence edged itself between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. He pushed up his glasses lazily with his index finger to get a better look at the sad sight ahead of him who was poorly trying to contain her sobs.

“Hey, kid.” Richie took her in his lanky arms. Neither of them said anything after that, but Richie couldn’t help but think if he said those three words maybe she wouldn’t have left.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” She’d say. They’d spend their next three years together attached to the hip before college sweeps them away. But they’d find each other later in life; at a record shop or on the streets of New York. y/n would ask “Richie, is that really you?” And Richie would reply in his British-man Voice:

“’Ello, luv. Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

y/n would be left in a stunned sort of silence for a while—not because she was unsure if the person standing in front of her was him, but because she was in awe. In awe that she finally found him.

But now Richie didn’t have to wait. He didn’t have to wallow in his own pity because the girl he loved was no longer two states away, but a couple of minutes away as he paced back in forth in Stan’s room.

“Calm down, Richie.” Stan was laying on his bed, trying to ignore his friend’s loud footsteps. Even though he had forced Richie to take his shoes off before coming into his house, his feet still thumped loudly against the floor. He was uncharacteristically thrusting a baseball between his two palms. It cut through the air smoothly as it moved side to side in his soft hands.

“What do you mean calm down?” Richie stopped in his tracks so he could shoot him a cold stare. “How am I supposed to calm down?” His heavy steps had resumed. Stan sighed.

“Just don’t make such a big deal out of—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Stan.” Richie groaned and went to tug on the friendship bracelet y/n gave him from when they were in grade school. It was a habit he’d picked up when y/n left. Whenever he got nervous, or irritated, or missed her, his right hand would find his left and wind around the memento. Arguably, that friendship bracelet could be deduced to a tangle of old, ratty strings; better yet, trash. But in Richie’s magnified eyes, it was still the same bracelet made of vibrant blue and green yarn y/n had bought from the craft store and braided with her small, meticulous fingers.

“What shit?” Stan scoffed because sometimes Richie could be irrational. “It’s called honesty. And honestly, it’s just y/n. What could go wrong?”

What could go wrong? Hell, everything could go wrong. She could forget who I am. Or better yet, she would remember and hate me.

“She won’t hate you,” Stan said unconvincingly in his usual monotone voice. It was like he could Richie’s mind, but Richie was obvious when it came to this stuff. Painfully obvious.

“Wuh-what’cha guh-guh-guys talking ab-bout?” Bill let himself into the room without knocking. Neither of the two boys minded. “I br-brought my bb-b-base-ball cards. But I’m keeping the Babe Ruth—”

“We’re not trading today, Bill.” Stan put down the leathery ball which sat in his left hand and sat up exasperatedly.

“W-we’re not?” An odd sort of sadness flicked across his usually bright features and he pocketed the collectibles. “Ih-ih-if we weren’t you sh-sh… could’ve cuh-called me fuh-fifteen minutes ago.” He went down to sit on Stan’s bed with him but was met with a harsh stare and a scolding instead.

“Take your shoes off!” He screeched and Bill toed off his old, beat-up Keds.

“So, wuh-what are we doing… if wuh-we’re not trading?” Bill asked.

“Richie just wants to talk.” Bill’s nose scrunched like a child who had just been informed liver was for dinner.

“T-t-t-talk? Get a s-s-sex change while you’re at it.”

Both Stan and Bill laughed, and Richie only grumbled. “C’mon, guys.” His pacing had yet again stopped but Stan knew he wouldn’t stay still for long. “What should I do?”

Then, Bill knew what they were talking about. It wasn’t a secret that Richie liked y/n. But like was an understatement. It just remained unsaid between the Losers. Either because Richie wouldn’t hear the end of it if they did talk about it or because… what was there to talk about? There were only so many times six boys and one girl could sing ‘Richie loves y/n’ until it got old.

“Wuh-well…” The rest of Bill’s words were swallowed by a heavy build-up of saliva and replaced with new ones before either Stan or Richie could chime in. “What do yo-you wanna do?”

“Aw, man. Lots of things.” Richie took a seat next to Bill on the edge of Stan’s neatly made bed. Stan groaned and shoved a pillow over his flushed face. He was torn between wanting to hear the details and hating that Richie was taking this conversation to a sappy turn. “The first thing I’d do would probably pull her in for a hug and kiss her cheek… And then I’d—”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Stan’s muffled voice came from under the pillow and Bill laughed in agreement.

“Kuh-kiss?” Bill asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I know that’s new vocabulary to you, Big Bill, but—”

“No,” Bill said, ignoring Richie’s previous, rude, comment. “I mm-mean, you cuh-cuh-can’t kiss y/n.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Richie said, only half-listening to what Bill was saying. But Bill’s next statement grabbed Richie’s (and Stan’s) full attention.

“I cuh-can’t. But her b-boyfriend wuh-houldn’t like it.”

“y/n has a boyfriend?” Both Stan and Richie said in unison. The pillow flew from Stan’s face and his eyes were now widened with interest.

“How’d you find out?” Stan sandwiched himself between Bill and Richie. Richie was almost falling off the bed and he wanted to scoff because if anything he was more a part of the conversation than Ol’ Stanny Boy.

“Oh-oh-over the phone. Sh-sh-she called muh-me and s-s-s-said some-thing about a guh-guy named Tr-Tr-Trevor Mmm-Martin. Nuh-Nothing s-s-serious at the tuh-time. Bb-but…”

Richie didn’t catch the bullshit spewing from Bill’s big mouth. His head was busy spinning in all different directions, and he felt as if he were going to puke. Though there were no signs of the tuna salad sandwich and salt and vinegar chips Stan and he shared trekking its way up to his throat and onto Stan’s just shampooed carpet. Was this what heartbreak felt like?

If so, it was one son of a bitch.

Richie couldn’t seem to enjoy himself for the rest of the day—or the rest of the week, for that matter. He didn’t laugh when Stan cracked a joke that Bill laughed at (something about Jews getting their dicks cut off as an alternative to hell). He didn’t race home to greet the girl next door he’d been longing to see. And he didn’t feel anything when that same girl was pressed against his chest during the scary part of the movie all of the Losers had planned to see.

It was a sort of ‘welcome back’ celebration for y/n. This whole week, actually, would be dedicated to y/n in regard to her return. Stan, Eddie, and Mike were the first ones at the theatre. They waited outside of the Aladdin Theatre, all three in a line while Stan checked his watch for what seemed to be hundredth time and Eddie counted the change in his pocket, hoping it’d be enough for snacks.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” Mike reassured. He patted him on the back. It was firm but gentle at the same time. It calmed him. “If you don’t have enough for snacks, me or someone else can spot you. And don’t worry about paying back.”

Eddie visibly relaxed at his words but Mike didn’t know why he was all of the sudden anxious about something like that.

Just then, Bill and Bev came up. Beverly’s hair was held back in a blue cowboy bandana, a contrast to her red hair, as a makeshift hairband. Her white blouse almost blended against her pale skin and her blue jeans chafed because of how fast she was skipping. Bill was falling behind but he didn’t really care. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his denim board shorts and he walked—strolled—down the sidewalk as if he had all the time in the world.

“I’m so excited!” A harsh squeal erupted from Beverly’s lips and Eddie had to cup his hands over his ears.

“Jesus, Bev. You could blow out an eardrum with those lungs.” But he wasn’t too impressed with her vocal range.

Ben and Richie came up together. They were talking about some new comic issue—Ben looked really into it, but Richie just wanted to avoid the topic of y/n that he was sure was now prevalent in everyone’s minds. Beverly gave him a knowing smirk when the two finally reached the group and Richie displayed his best ‘what-the-fuck-do-you-mean’ expression when he really did know what the fuck she meant.

This left y/n to be the last of the Losers to arrive.

The rubber sole of Richie’s beat up left slip-on tapped impatiently against the hot cement. “How long does it take to get ready?”

“Do you think she got lost?” Ben asked curiously, hoping that wasn’t the case.

“We should go in. Y’know so seats don’t get taken.” Before the rest of the group could protest Richie’s lame idea in attempts to boycott seeing their long-lost friend, a familiar voice piped up.

“That’s awfully rude of you Tozier.” Richie turned around to see y/n. How could a person look the same, yet totally different at the same time? Her hair was longer from when he last saw her and there was a new glow in her eyes that Richie couldn’t help but think meant she lost her innocence. He could’ve sworn she got taller, but she was also wearing platform wedges with little white flowers on the straps which matched her baby blue sundress that came just above the knee.

“y/n!” Beverly was the first to say. She ran the not far distance between them and enraptured her into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you left me here… with all boys.”

y/n didn’t miss a beat of Beverly’s sarcasm and rolled her eyes. “I know, how could I? I’m such a monster.” The two giggled for an ungodly amount of time which the boys summed up to a sort of telepathic communication between the two.

Ben was next to greet y/n. He said she and he could share a pack of Donettes this time and a nostalgic smile crinkled her eyes as she remembered how he shared his dessert with him when she left.

Mike, Eddie, and Stan were next. Mike told her that while there’s no work to be done on his father’s farm, they could still hang out. Eddie hugged her just like Bev had. And Stan scolded her for being late but then whispered a ‘thanks’ for keeping her promise of writing to him, even if it wasn’t every week.

y/n lingered behind to say hi to Bill when he opened the door for everyone.

“Luh-luh-long time no s-s-see. Stranger.” y/n didn’t realize the Losers were waiting for them.

“Nice to see you, too.” She nudged Bill’s arm with her elbow and walked in. They didn’t say much to each other because nothing had to be said. They had an unspoken connection. Bill was like her brother. Always knew what to say. Always there for her…

Richie was the last to greet y/n because unlike Bill, he didn’t know what to say. He could feel the words dancing on his tongue, but he knew they’d come out in either a stutter or gibberish. He was waiting at the candy counter, drumming his fingers on the glass while Ben ordered a large popcorn and Donettes. Mike paid for his own strawberry licorice whips—none of the Losers partook in his favorite candy. Beverly only got a soda, and Eddie bought his own personal popcorn, but if Stan asked, he could have a few kernels.

“Hi.” Richie looked like he had seen a ghost when y/n came up next to him. He shouldn’t have been startled by her, but he was.

“Hey…” He held off on calling her a cheeky nickname because she had a boyfriend and that would be wrong, and he had morals—

“Are you getting anything?”

That depends, are you for sale? Beep beep, Rich.

“Nothing really…really caught my eye.” He glanced at the menu one more time as if he hadn’t had it memorized from the thousands of other times he’s been there—alone or not.

“That’s too bad. I thought we could share a popcorn?” y/n asked hopefully. “Or a soda? If you’re trying to cut down on carbs.”

Richie laughed. “I thought you and Ben were sharing those mini nightmares.” His hand dove into his pocket anyway. You can never be too sure, right?

“It’s called balance,” y/n said all too knowingly. “Have you ever heard of salty and sweet makes the perfect combination?” She eyed him through her mascara coated lashes that he remembered from three years ago and Richie heard himself calling one of the girls at the concessions stand over for a large popcorn. Extra butter.

Was she the sweet and Trevor was the salty one of the pair? His mind was numb during the movie, except for the one persisting thought he couldn’t help but circle back to. y/n and Trevor sitting in a tree…

He felt the armrest that divided the seats fly up and a trembling body wiggle itself next to his. Her arms latched onto his torso tightly and her head buried itself into his tacky Hawaiian shirt. Slowly, Richie began to fall from his catatonic state. His eyes drifted down to her figure, squinting in the darkness of the theatre.

“Hey…” His large hand smoothed over her hair in petting motions as he cooed into her ear. “It’s all… this stuff’s all fake. It’s not real.” Her quiet, pathetic sobs continued throughout the rest of the movie. Richie still consoled her.

Only until the lights drew up and the Losers were the last to leave an empty theatre decorated with chewed up bubble gum, candy wrappers, and the remains of popcorn on the floor did y/n remove herself from his shirt.

“Sorry.” y/n cleared her throat and sat up straight as if nothing happened. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a horror movie.” She laughed, making fun of her own pitifulness.

“It was a h-h-horror movie. Not a d-d-drama.” Bill rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his lips.

“Girls, am I right?” Stan scoffed. He stood up, about to be the first of the Losers to leave the room until he stopped in front of y/n’s chair. “Don’t worry, I almost shat my pants.” Richie overheard him whisper in her hear.

y/n tried to eat the giggles trying to escape her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. Her laughter echoed in the empty theatre and the rest of her friends laughed with her. They didn’t understand what she was laughing at, they just missed the sound of her voice after so long.

Her small hand slipped into Richie’s sweaty one when the group met daylight which Mike was surprised at, even though they entered the Aladdin at one.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, shaken up. They had officially fallen behind from the group, but it wasn’t like either of them cared. He took his hand from hers, opting to hold his own. Once his hand left hers he immediately missed the feeling. The warmth. The comfort. But his own would have to fair as a substitute for now.

“Just like old times… I thought.” y/n was flabbergasted at Richie’s antsiness. He wasn’t like this three years ago. Three years ago, he would’ve gladly accepted her hand in his. Three years ago, he would’ve scooped up her hand claiming that he doesn’t want her catching cold even though they stood in the summer heat.

Richie twirled his fingers around the end of his shirt. Old times. But the old times were different.

Richie Tozier was thirteen years old when he finally got his own bike to ride. He no longer had to ride double on Silver or walk to any of the functions that the Losers had planned. It wasn’t embarrassing, but no boy wanted to show up to the quarry or Aladdin Theatre riding on the back of Bill Denbrough’s bike, his arms actually wrapped around him. Especially if y/n would be seeing him.

So, he requested his parents buy him a bicycle of his own. Preferably green with a large bell so everyone knows when Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier was coming. Pretty please.

And after a few months, his parents finally complied. It was green but it, however, did not come with a bell.

“You’ll just have to come up with the money for that one on your own, son.” His dad told him. But that was fine by Richie. And he excitedly pedaled off to the Aladdin where his friends would be soon, in hopes to impress a certain somebody.

“W-w-wow, Ruh-Ruh-Richie. You got a bike?” Bill asked. He wondered why his friend never gave him a call, asking to come pick and him up—he just assumed he was walking today.

“Yeppers.” Richie proudly rode circles around his friends with his new ET Kuwahara. He couldn’t wait until y/n saw him on it.

“Wh-wh-when?” Bill was the most curious out of the group. He would miss hitching Richie rides, but he wouldn’t miss how tight his arms seemed to wind against his chest.

“Like, yesterday.” Richie shrugged and he was the last one to park his bike. He kept riding circles around the empty Sunday street until y/n and Bev showed up. y/n didn’t have a bike and Bev always walked with her out of courtesy.

“Hey, wide ride!” Beverly called while Richie tried to pop a wheelie.

“Stop it,” y/n giggled but Richie was too lost in his own world to hear her. Eventually, he parked it; carelessly setting it down with Silver and Stan’s, Eddie’s, Ben’s, and Mike’s bike. “You got a bike?” y/n asked, coming up from behind him. Richie grinned.

“Yeah, do ya like?” y/n nodded wordlessly.

“Green’s not my color, though… Why’d you get a bike?”

“’Cause riding double is lame.” He shrugged and they entered the movie theatre together while the rest of their friends waited for them. “Anywho, how ‘bout I take you home tonight?”

“I thought you said riding double was lame,” y/n repeated his words even though she didn’t think that.

“Well—you see… What I meant was—”

“Just kidding, Tozier. Only you think riding double is lame anyway.” y/n found herself giggling while paying for her small popcorn which Richie would end up sticking his fingers into later on.

So, Richie took her home that night (and the rest of the nights the Losers met up). Her arms wrapped around his torso in the way he used to wrap his around Bill’s. At first, it felt like he couldn’t breathe, but that could’ve been because there was a pretty girl sitting behind him and he would be responsible if they got hurt.

After a while, though, he got used to it. And the arms slung around his chest were like a seatbelt. Once in awhile, y/n would rest her chin against her shoulder. And if she were tuckered out from swimming or any of the other adventures the Losers were up against that day, he would find her dozing on his back. The breeze from his ET Kuwahara ripping through the hot air felt nice and a kind of superiority swelled in Richie’s chest for being the cause of that breeze.

The same breeze swept over y/n and Richie. The group was now long gone from their eye line, but they would’ve been anyway because of the path Richie and y/n would take to get home.

Richie had been oddly silent until they reached their houses; side by side, just like how the two friends stood. y/n took it upon herself to break that silence, but his jitters were contagious.

“We’re meeting up at the quarry tomorrow.” She turned to face him as she stood on the highest step of her doorstep. He was still taller than her.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Richie tried his best to avoid her steady watch that followed him, but it was hard. He so desperately wanted to see the twinkle in her ambitious, yet caring eyes which he missed. It wasn’t looking at her that was wrong, it was his thoughts—and Richie knew that—he just couldn’t bring himself to look at her while thinking those thoughts.

“You’re coming right?” Insecurity wavered in her voice. Richie was being weird. Richie was always weird, but something was… wrong. He didn’t greet her the first day she came home. y/n eventually concluded that she was just being selfish and that Richie was probably busy that day. But now Richie was being distant. Richie was never distant.

“’Ve been thinkin’ about it. You know I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see Bev in her swimsuit—”

“Beep beep.” y/n wanted to laugh. She wanted to assume he was joking and think nothing more of it because that’s who Richie is. A jokester. Her heart couldn’t help but pang at the words and instantaneously the palms of her hands felt clammy. “Can you meet me beforehand? I thought we could go together?”

“Together?” Richie’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, goofball.” Again, her eyes searched for his under his mess of brown hair and coke bottle glasses, but they were playing a serious game of hide-and-seek. “I mean, it only makes sense.” She thought fast. “We live next door to each other.” And Richie realized this was only an act of convenience.

“Shore, shore, senhorritaa.” Richie couldn’t find the courage in himself—only in one of his Voices and y/n smiled, suddenly remembering how often he’d do impressions when they were kids.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” y/n said curtly.

“Tomorrow,” Richie replied cooly when he was anything but. Especially when he paced his own room, the same way he did in Stan’s, when he should’ve been at her door already.

He was only wearing the swim trunks (he had since he was fifteen and hadn’t bothered to replace) that resembled the shirts he wore, and he was debating on if he should put on a shirt or leave as he is. Or leave at all. It was going to be hot today. The weather forecast predicted to be in the nineties. Richie didn’t want to show up indecent, but he also didn’t want to sweat the whole walk there.

Two—that somehow felt like ten—aggravating minutes later, Richie stood at y/n’s door wearing a yellow shirt over his dark blue, tropical swim shorts. His forefinger hovered over the doorbell for a few seconds until he finally bit the bullet and took the bait. You’re gonna do it eventually, just do it now.

It swung open excitedly, revealing his favorite girl who stood behind it. “Come in!” She said and wasted no time to lead him up to her room.

Richie took a moment to catch his breath and take in his new surroundings. Her room seemed unchanged at first and he laughed at the grey, Victorian-style wallpaper that neither y/n nor her parents had taken down yet. But the longer he stood there, the more he noticed how bare it was. The room was stripped of any decorations she once had (except for her bed and desk)—replaced by brown moving boxes. It became apparent to Richie how much time she had spent away from the group. Even though she was here with them now, she had fabricated a life outside of the Losers Club. That fact hurt him, but a sort of curiosity burned inside of him. He wanted to know the new her, but they also had to get to the quarry at a certain time.

“When do we gotta be there by?” Richie asked. He was drawn out of his daydream by his own words and noticed y/n who was turned around in front of him. She was wearing a black, ruffled bikini that complimented her skin beautifully but barely covered the parts that should.

“Two-thirty… but I don’t think they’d mind if we show up early or late.” y/n shrugged as her fingers fumbled with the bikini strings that tied the top. “Can you help me with this?” She turned to him. If Richie picked any time to finally meet her eyes, he picked the worst timing. y/n’s neck craned to the side whilst she still struggled with her top. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him.

“Why’re you asking me?” Richie feigned a chuckle but walked over to her regardless. She angled her body dangerously close to his causing Richie to bite his lip, imprisoning the sharp gasp that threatened to depart from his lips. Cautiously, his hands took the strings from her and tied them into a sloppy bow with a double knot so it wouldn’t come undone anytime soon.

“’Cause you’re here, Tozier.” He made eye contact with her. “What’s been up with you lately?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You’ve been distant… really distant.” y/n’s honesty made it hard for Richie to catch a break. “Do you think I haven’t noticed when you pulled away from me yesterday and…”

“And what?” Richie probed. His hands rested on either sides of his hips. He tried to hide any sign of nervousness in his voice, but it was hard to fake what you were.

“It’s stupid.” Obviously, y/n didn’t want to drop the topic of conversation. She didn’t want to coerce the boy into something either.

“Nothing you say, think, or do is stupid, y/n/n.” Richie chuckled once more though this time y/n could tell he wasn’t faking anything.

“You didn’t greet me when I first came home.” She mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear her. But he did. “Why was that?”

“I dunno… Bill told me something.” Richie wanted to drop a brick over his head because honestly, how stupid did he sound right now? y/n didn’t have to say anything. The skepticism in her eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth was enough to prompt him further. “He said you have a boyfriend and I just—”

“You just what?” Her words were mysterious. Richie couldn’t seem to read her anymore because the only telling expression she had was a raised eyebrow and cocked head. But that could mean anything.

“I really like you, okay? And how are you supposed to greet someone you’re in love with after not seeing them for three years when you can’t hug them or-or kiss them cos they went off and got a stinkin’ high and mighty boyfriend in New York? New York, for Christ’s sake. It was hard enough to look at you before but now—” Richie’s rambling was quickly cut off when y/n’s arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed against his. Her fingers tangled in the loops of his hair and his glasses pushed up against her face. “What was that for?” Richie asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Stop listening to Bill,” y/n instructed. She was amused by the boy in front of her.

“What?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” She brushed a strand of hair from out of his eyes and adjusted his now crooked glasses.

“But Bill said—”

“Bill’s stupid.” Her lips met his again. The kiss was longer this time. y/n’s were soft and tasted like the artificial cherry flavoring from her chapstick she had applied prior; a contradiction to the faint scent of tangerines that clung to her bare skin and the spicy bite of peppermint on her tongue.

His wet tongue traced the inside of her mouth, lingering on the inside of her cheek. y/n bit down on the fullest part of Richie’s bottom lip tentatively, making sure not to hurt him. She could feel his smile lines against her thumb when she removed her left hand from his hair, using it to cup his cheek. y/n pulled from him abruptly, leaving Richie floored and panting.

“You don’t think the crew would care if we showed up late?” Richie asked, his eyebrows wiggling with the new burst of confidence that kiss had given him.

y/n shook her head. A grin bestowed itself upon her swollen lips. Her arms re-enveloped themselves around his figure that towered over her. Richie copied her actions. Except his hands ghosted across the back of her naked torso covered in goosebumps from the spur of the moment. They created an invisible trail to her clothed butt, cueing y/n to jump up.

She did and Richie’s large hands supported her legs that wound around his waist. “Do you wanna…?”

“Yes,” y/n whispered into his ear. At that, a shiver crawled down Richie’s spine.

It became harder for Richie to contain his excitement as he walked the two of them over to y/n’s bed. He was gentle when he set her down on the mattress covered in grey sheets and stuffed pillows. The feeling of the cotton bed sleeves cooled her hot skin although she would need an icepack to completely bring her temperature down.

Richie was on top of her. His lips tickled face that he left quick, unperceivable marks on. When she got the chance, y/n took in his appearance thoughtfully. It was evident that his unruly hair was thrown in all different directions due to y/n’s hands that were knotted in it. There was a blush on his freckled cheeks that resembled a sunburn and he wore a look. It was soft and welcoming like he was an astrologist who had just found out she was responsible for putting the stars in the sky.

But the stars were her eyes as they held the same sparkle from yesterday at the theatre.

“Have you…have you?” Richie’s eyes hesitantly raked down her half nude body from behind his glasses, still held together with adhesive tape. They couldn’t help but slide down the slope of his long nose and y/n pushed them up for him.

“No,” y/n said bashfully. She ducked her head down only for it to be lifted back up with Richie’s thumb and forefinger.

“Do you want this?” He tried not to pose the question awkwardly, but how can you make a question like that not awkward?

“Of course.” y/n’s hand, still playing with the hairs on the back of his head, guided his face towards hers. The two met in a sweet kiss for a sweet second. “As long as it’s with you.” Her tone was confident and assuring, leaving Richie with no extra questions.

“You really know how to flatter a guy, y/n/n.” Richie still marveled at the sight splayed out before him and a melodious sound filled his ears. It was her laugh, but all of his senses seemed to be amplified to the max during this moment.

Both of her hands coasted down to the hem of his stupid, banana-colored shirt that served as a barrier between the two. Her light touches made his breath catch in his throat, released in a throaty gasp, and his once loose shorts now felt strained and uncomfortable. Ignoring the occasional breaths that left Richie’s perfect mouth, y/n’s fingers tugged on the end of his shirt; a signal for him to take the damn thing off.

Instantly, his shirt was off and thrown on her floor. In his head, he thanked that her room wasn’t fully unpacked yet but another part of him thought he and y/n wouldn’t even make it to the quarry. y/n ran two fingers down his smooth chest; the tips of her fingers sent a tingling sensation throughout his being. Richie seized them once they reached his abdomen, his grasp firm but tender. Slowly, he led her fingers with his to the crotch of her bikini. The black material was soaked through. Richie smirked to himself, she’d have to change again before they left for the quarry. Or they could just not go at all.

Her own touch had elicited a moan from y/n. Her head fell back on the grey cushions, exposing her pure neck that begged to be marked. The sighs of pleasure coming from the girl beneath him while he directed her hand that was now slipping into the bottoms of her bikini felt straight from one of his fantasies. He could only hope he wasn’t dreaming, and if he were, he’d just have to remember it for another lonely night in the sheets.

y/n’s fingers danced over her clit. She inhaled sharply at the teasing feeling. Richie’s hand moved to tightly hold her wrist, the contact burned against her already hot skin. His mind was drawing a blank again; lost in the moment. Lost in her. Another moan left her mouth, her breath hit his face, and Richie imagined how she touched herself when she was away at school. Did she think about him the same way he thought about her? Did she wonder what lied behind his pants like how he had on multiple occasions?

For the time being, Richie’s questions would have to be left unanswered. He felt her hand leave her bathing suit and his hand detached itself from her wrist. A blotchy red handprint was left in its place from his harsh grip and before Richie could ask if she was okay, y/n was kicking off the at once restricting clothing. Her lower half was now completely revealed, all for him. Vulnerability, a feeling y/n had only felt on the plane ride alone to New York and on her first date with Trevor, took its rightful place in her chest that lifted and fell at a rapid speed. Her thighs instinctively rubbed together, part out of insecurity, and also to relieve herself, but Richie stopped them before they could make another move.

His right palm had settled on her left thigh, gently separating it from its counterpart while his left palm kept busy as it laid flat on her mattress and held him up. Richie’s index finger toyed with her clit, much like she had done before, and then probed her entrance. Her walls generously coated his first finger with the same nucleus that slicked her now tainted swimsuit. His middle finger entered with the same proficiency and care. Richie’s fingers were long and slender, and they did well to effortlessly curl into the spot that y/n could never seem to find on her own. Richie grunted at the sound of another pretty sound leaving y/n’s pretty lips. But this sound was different.

“Richie,” she moaned breathlessly. Richie, again, came painfully aware of the tent in his shorts. But this time was for y/n, not him.

In and out. In and out. His fingers moved at the relatively same, slow, and predictable pace that didn’t fail to evoke the dirty noises coming from y/n which might suggest otherwise. He continued these movements until her pulse picked up and a coil inside snapped.

Richie Tozier was y/n’s first orgasm.

And second, as he withdrew his hand from her, swapping his fingers for him. He stripped himself of his shorts so that the two now pressed together, even—this excluded the upper half of y/n that was still covered.

Richie hovered over the girl. The girl who moved next door at the ripe age of five, not knowing the impact she’d have on his life. The girl who crafted him and the Losers Club individual friendship bracelets that were tied around his wrist to this day. The girl who moved away too soon. The girl who’d share his first time with him. The girl he loved.

“Can I?” He asked timidly. The thumb and index finger of his right hand pinched at the black strap which prevented her top from falling down—which, ironically, was exactly what Richie wanted. y/n nodded. Her eyes were still shut from the intense euphoria she was still recovering from. First, Richie unclipped the back strap. Then, his hands moved to the thinner strap he’d tied earlier. His knees were holding him up, straddling over y/n’s waist. A wave of frustration overcame him when his fingers clumsily messed with the frocking double-knotted bow. A quiet mutter, “gotcha”, unintentionally rolled off of Richie’s tongue.

y/n giggled at his antics—not to make fun of him, but because he was cute.

The constrictive article of clothing fell from her bodice, uncovering her hardened nipples and flawless breasts.

Richie ducked his head down. Instead of meeting her lips, his mouth wrapped around the still perky bud. Licking, and sucking until breaths turned to whines and whines turned to his name.

Richie. Richie. Richie.

After giving both the same amount of attention, he kissed her. His lips brushed against hers and time felt like it had somehow stopped when y/n felt him enter her.

It was daunting at first. And Richie thumbed away a tear that raced down y/n’s cheek when she had finally taken his whole length.

“Tell me when you want me to move,” Richie murmured—his nose brushing against her cheekbone as he did so.

“Rich…Richie.”

“Yes, gorgeous?” y/n could melt at the nickname, but she didn’t; the rest of her senses too carried away in his intoxicating scent of Spice… Something… and the stimulation of him filling her.

“Can you move?” y/n asked in quiet, broken words.

Richie didn’t say anything. He just slipped out from her only to push back in. The sensation of her tight walls around him was enough to be the reason of his gasps and the resounding echoes of her name that pleasantly escaped his parted lips. His thrusts were steady and gradual—much like his fingers from earlier but… different.

y/n’s back arched into Richie’s front. Both of their pants quickened, and y/n didn’t have to ask to know what this meant.

“Richie,” y/n mewled. Richie’s pace accelerated, pulling them both to their highs. y/n’s eyes rolled back from under her heavy lids. On the other hand, the boy above her had frantically removed himself from her. She would finish on his fingers like once before and he didn’t need any more ushering to find his end.

“y/n.” The moan belonged to Richie this time, and he collapsed onto the newly soiled sheets next to the girl whose name he just spoke. “I love you.” Richie didn’t intend for the words to come out. They just did. He suspected y/n was none the wiser, still trying to catch her breath from when she came.

“What?”

Richie was wrong.

“I love you,” Richie repeated, but he hadn’t intended to say it again either. He was running on autopilot now. His eyes squeezed closed, preparing for y/n to yell at him. Why would you drop the bomb like this? To kick him out.

But she didn’t.

“I love you, too.” She wasn’t facing him, so he had to trust she meant the words. He had to trust she wasn’t actually repulsed at the thought of the guy who’d just stolen her virginity and would never talk to him afterward.

“You…you do?” Richie realized he was laying butt-naked on top of y/n’s sheets and he wouldn’t be shocked if his face were mistaken for a tomato right about now.

“Yeah.” The bed shifted under her turning weight because she was now laying on her side, facing him. Her eyes roamed his milky skin and her fingers apprehensively traced an outline on his arm. Richie didn’t think he would ever get used to her silk skin and feather fingertips. “You’re supposed to lose it to the person you love, right?”

Richie’s heart was already digging its grave. “Yeah.” He swallowed dryly. His hand found hers—the one that was inking an invisible fence on his skin—and weaved his fingers with hers. He didn’t know what else to say but he didn’t have to.

“You still wear this?” y/n was incredulous and judging by the tone of her voice, Richie figured she found the friendship bracelet he still wore. Treasured.

“It’d make me a monster to trash it.” Richie faced her now and y/n laughed whilst her pink lips grazed his knuckles.

“I still have mine.” She raised her eyebrow. Was this a challenge?

“Pish, posh, dahhling. Proof or it’s not real,” he said in his god-awful British-man Voice.

y/n let go of his hand, leaving it for the coldness to slowly eat away. She leapt off her bed and dashed to her desk. She opened one of the side drawers and fished around for a dinky little yarn bracelet that would match his, only she used red and yellow string rather than blue and green.

She skipped over to him, not caring that she was undressed or that they had to be somewhere. A braided bracelet, similar to his, dangled in front of Richie’s tired face and he smiled. Unlike Richie’s, y/n’s bracelet was in perfect condition—just like it had looked from when they were ten.

“I can make you another one,” y/n said, noticing how worn Richie’s was. It was almost falling apart.

“Nah. I like the rugged look.” Richie bared his teeth to her. It must’ve been the fifth time she laughed that day.

“Do you still wanna go?” y/n asked. She didn’t meet his gaze; too focused on slipping the bracelet over her hand. It seemed she had outgrown the thing.

“Go where?” Richie hummed and snaked his arms around her once more.

“The quarry.” His eyes widened and suddenly Richie didn’t feel tired anymore.

“Do we have to?” He whined as if he were still a child.

“I guess not.” y/n gave in; relaxing into his arms. “You can help me unpack.”

“Or…” Richie’s lips pecked her forehead.

“I guess there’s a reason why they call you Trashmouth.” y/n nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His fingers drew lazy shapes on her bare back in attempts to convince her. But y/n didn’t need convincing. Now that she found a home in his arms, she would never leave.

[beauregard-s]

Out of His League | Eddie Kaspbrak

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader (21+)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: language, alcohol, fluff, protected sex!, oral (male receiving), slightly sub!Eddie? Kind of a comfort fic? Eddie going through a hard time

@buckybarton03 said: “ hey!! can i request adult eddie x reader she’s not in the losers club be he brings her with him to derry to meet everyone and he gets super jealous over how good richie & reader get along :)”

A/n: First, my infinite apologies because it took so so long! But here it is and I hope you like it <3

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

“Richie, no!” At least three different voices shouted.

“Richie, yes!”

And, as he roared at the top of his lungs, Richie threw his head back and swallowed the third blow job shot in a roll as you grimaced at that in between your laugh. 

Yours and the whole table’s - Bill had snorted so hard he ended up spitting his drink. And, leaning against Eddie with his chin resting against your temple, you felt him chuckle. Not laugh. Chuckle.

Coming to Derry and meeting your boyfriend’s ride-or-die friends was scary in the beginning, sent you into a quiet anxiety spiral. You and Eddie met a year before and you never got the chance to personally get to know the famous Losers Club, the gang Eddie would always tell you about while nostalgically looking at the few childhood pictures he still had. You were not usually worried about what people would think about or if they’d like you, but when you found yourself flying over to Maine, you were pretty worried about your social skills. You just hoped you got along with them because if you didn’t you’d never forgive yourself.

You knew Eddie went through a lot during his life in that place and you also knew those six people were his real family, everything safe he had during those years of manipulation and abuse. If his friends didn’t like you, if something went wrong in any way... It’d break his heart. 

You were stepping on thin ice. Until you met them.

You understood Eddie’s awe and loyalty to them right away. They were welcoming, they were fun and indeed, all of them together felt like a big family that engulfed you in. You got along with each of them, even with Stan’s fiancée, Patty, but Richie was the one you clicked with immediately after he hugged you and asked you what bet did you lose to end up with Eddie.

And Eddie was in pure bliss through the week of your little vacation, happy all his favorite people were getting along so well, but you noticed something there. The way his mood slowly shrunk to the point he spent that whole Saturday quieter. You knew something was bothering him even if he was sitting so relaxed in the restaurant, his arm resting on your chair around your shoulders, smiling at Richie’s tommyrot. 

“Come on, y/n/n,” Richie coughed, choking due to the strong alcohol dose. “Drink a shot.”

“No way...” You shook your head immediately.

“Come on, y/n!” He whined. “Show us your skills!”

You lifted a brow at Richie’s devilish look, and Eddie exhaled a bit loudly by your side while Beverly went “beep beep Richie” mode in the background.

“The only one supposed to know my skills here is Eddie, Richie.”

There were a pair of whistles from across the table, maybe from Bill and Mike, and Richie raised his hands in rendition. 

“Hey, Haystack! You do it!”

You looked away from Richie now teasing Ben and pressuring the poor guy on drinking raw tequila shots, paying attention to Eddie. He was taking the last sip of his virgin peach cocktail - because he was the one driving and god forgive it if he drank before driving.

“You okay? Wanna another one?” 

He didn’t look at you, just shook his head.

“No, I’m good.”

“Really?”

That was your “I don’t believe in you, so I’m giving you a second chance to spill your tea” tone, and that made Eddie turn at you flashing a half-smile, thumb rubbing circles on your shoulder.

“Sure, babe.”

But of course he lied. He was, yes, dreary. So much he was silent through the whole way back to the hotel later and, when Bill and Stan wanted to stay outside for a while, enjoying the last hours they all had together before going to bed and flying back home in the morning, Eddie claimed he had a headache and a lot to pack and went straight upstairs the small hotel.

You knew his baggage was immaculate and ready by your bed. And he never had headaches.

His mother always claimed he was an ill boy, but, in fact, Eddie never got sick in any way, so it sent the red alert in your head and you followed him quietly through the way until you were safe and alone in your room.

“Eddie,” you cooed, locking the door behind you as he shrugged his jacket off, “are you telling me what’s wrong or…?”

He threw the garment over his suitcase in the corner, turning on his heels to face you.

“What? No, I’m okay! Really am.” He did it again, gave you that half-smile to try to mislead you away from the things he sometimes hid inside.

But you didn’t buy it. Leaned against the door, arms crossed in front of your chest. Locked eyes with him trying to find a gap, a minimal clue of what was going on, inevitably paying attention to his pink lips from your strawberry chapstick he’d borrow here and there.

“You are not.” 

Your unconscious pouting was enough to make him break.

It was sudden. How his shoulders dropped slightly and he sighed, rubbing his face in the frustration he knew well but he thought he had left behind.

“It’s just…” He muttered. “I’m jealous, you know?”

You pushed up from the door immediately, gaping slightly at his words but he was faster, raising a hand so you’d let him explain himself. 

“I’m not implying anything,” he smiled again, more truly this time, but sadder. “It’s just that…”

You perceived him struggling. He always struggled.

You remembered the day you met him. You were about to finish your internship in this huge company’s advertising department when you sat across this junior analyst guy during a meeting. Him. Eddie struggled all the time with his graphs, so nervous you could feel it from your seat. And when he looked up and saw you smiling at him, he froze for a second, growing ten times as nervous after that.

After he got to know who was the girl sitting in front of him at that table through two hours of pure boredness, it took him a whole month up the courage to ask you out. When he did, you smiled brightly and told him you were out at 6 pm next Friday. 

And he felt his anxiety lower, just like it did in that hotel room when he saw how worried you were.

“I’m…” he crinkled his nose because the words for what he was feeling would sound too ridiculous. “I’m just jealous, y/n.”

You frowned.

“Jealous?”

“Yes.”

“Of?...” You gave him the lead.

“You and Richie.”

Your gape grew. 

Eddie hummed frustratedly, miserably letting himself sink into the edge of the mattress. Its springs made this little sound that annoyed him because it implied how old that was and he wouldn’t stand thinking about the clean status of that thing.

“Eddie…” 

“No, I know nothing is going on, okay!” He said, looking at his feet. “I know there’s no real reason for feeling this way and that it’s just me being paranoid.”

“And do you wanna elaborate or…?” You encouraged him.

He wanted to because you were the one who managed to get him, to soothe him. But he didn’t know how to do it with proper words.

“You know what Richie’s about. All the stuff I told you, and the stuff you saw the last few days. He’s the funny and popular one. I love him, I really do, don’t get me wrong but it didn’t stop me from thinking he kinda overshadowed me through our high school years, through college.”

You nodded although he wasn’t looking at you at the moment. He was so troubled he didn’t see you stepping out of your boots and walking over to him, only noticing how close you were when your shadow covered him. 

“He always got more attention?” You said.

Eddie looked up, chuckling in embarrassment. “And the girls.”

You rolled your eyes and he groaned lowly in frustration. He held around your hips when you started running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re jealous because he keeps teasing me?”

“Yeah? Come on, you two look like you’ve been friends since ever,” his slightly more playful tone relaxed you. He was getting some relief by talking about it.

And indeed, you spent time with all the Losers but grew closer to Richie than the others for no special reasons. He’d pick on you, on Eddie. Would make great-horrible jokes and some great-great ones that got you laughing every time. It was simple affinity, but you could see where it stang on Eddie. 

So you dropped your hand to his face and tilted his chin up. He finally looked at you, resting against your ribs.

“You know there are no real reasons for that though, don’t you?” You said softly.

He pulled away and his eyes quickly glanced down over the tight blouse and the skirt hugging your hips. 

“To be honest, I do. You’re the hottest, smartest woman on earth and way out of his league…”

“Edward!” You slapped his shoulder softly.

But he was laughing, finally laughing. 

“You know it’s true and yeah, okay” he whispered, arms around your waist squeezing you tighter against him. “It’s just my fucking insecurity talking because I know you’re out of my league too.”

“I’m totally in your league…”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

Eddie was practical. Words didn’t have much effect on his uneasy mind, so you felt the need to show him what you meant and you did it by lowering down to settle on his lap.

You didn’t break your eyes from his nor even for a second while your arms embraced his neck.

“There’s no need for it all,” you pecked his lips once. “Because you’re the one I’m in love with.” You pecked him twice and the last one turned into a deep kiss.

You felt the strawberry chapstick flavor when you nip on his lips because you knew exactly what it did to him. How it made a low grunt raise from the deep of his throat and his hips buck up slightly. The same goes for his neck and how kissing down his adam’s apple makes him sigh.

“Y/n/n…” he breathes out.

“Shut up and let me take care of you,” you cut him off, your purred voice and hands pulling off his shirt making him surrender.

Pressing your chest on his made him fall back on the mattress and you laid on top. The way his cheeks were already flustered made you feel those renowned butterflies inside. That and his hands pulling your skirt up until it was rucked around your waist. Eddie still had a ghost of a grin on and you made it disappear under your hips grinding against his.

“No shit, babe…” he groaned alongside the little moan you let out, feeling his hardening cock rubbing against your clothed slit.

For each time you rolled your lips, still committed to the task of kissing his sweet spot, Eddie’s sounds escalated a tone. His fingers dig into your hips, pushing you down against him, whimpering you stopped and got off him. His lidded eyes watched you stripping, as his hand immediately went for his jeans, pushing them way so fast he got you chuckling. 

“Eager,” you teased. 

“This isn’t new,” he retorted, eyebrow raising slightly. 

But his attitude was washed away as soon as your skirt fell on the floor. Eddie wasn’t that much about lingerie, but you were wearing the laced set he gave you. 

That was an unfair game. And the way you kneeled on the floor in between his legs was the unfairest one.

He sat up when you mouthed his clothed length before tugging down the boxers, earning yourself a moan as soon as your lips brushed the sensitive tip. You smiled up at him, something between a cute and devious one that had him gasping for air even before you attached your lips to him, tasting his precum. 

An entire rope of curse came weakly from him, a hand of his going for your hair and pushing it back so he could see exactly what you were doing. You kept your eyes on his all the time, sucking him slowly, moaning and vibrating him. He was holding back, you felt he was, only brushing your hair when what he really wanted to do was wrap it around his hand and fuck your mouth. But he didn’t do that. 

You said you were the one taking care of him that night and he let you.

Let you wrap your lips around him and swirl your tongue, making him whine, twitch in need when you sucked bolder, pulling him out with a little ‘pop’. 

“Holy shit, y/n,” he panted.

“What, babe?” You pumped him through your pause. “Does it feel good?”

Eddie wasn’t able to stand up to the tease when you resumed blowing him. The way you dragged your tongue over the weak spot underneath his tip making his hips stutter and heat gather in there. 

You pulled away as soon as he started twitching harder, feeling your slickness in your underwear. You rose kissing the ‘v’ muscles of his hips, all the way up his chest while pulling his boxers down completely, straddling him again. 

Eddie immediately unclasped your bra and leaned into your chest, tracing the tip of his tongue around a nipple of yours before sucking it. His breath hitched when you cried out from that, doing it again and again, from a breast to the other, biting up your neck. 

“I wanna fuck you so much, love…” He looked at your heated face, swallowing dry to the words that slipped off. “Please…”

His little moment of weakness was enough for you to reach down and touch him again. “What do you want? Say it again.”

He panted under how soft you could sound even when you were making him beg like that, reaching down for his pants on the floor, shaking his wallet open with your free hand and grabbing a condom he had in it. Tearing it open with your teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” he whimpered at how you unrolled it on his cock and pumped him. “Please, babe…Oh, fuck!”

You had pulled your underwear aside, guiding him in.

“Do it then,” you tried to keep your voice steady.

And it wasn’t possible. 

Your demands turned into moans as he laid back, not even remembering about the noisy mattress. In fact, he liked the sound it made when you started to ride him. He liked how it joined your moans and his sharp breaths. 

And that beautiful pleasured face of yours on top of him…

He didn’t like it. He loved it. Kept watching you the whole time, how you bounced perfectly on him, feeling so wet. How you held onto his arms when he caressed your sides and cupped your breasts. You were both being loud, but who cared? He wanted to be loud as it was a way of showing who you belonged to at the end. And how he belonged to you, too.

He started to thrust up against you as soon and he felt the tightening sensation around him. You were close, so damn close feeling him hitting the soft spot inside you. Feeling him massaging your breasts like that, fucking so fast into you.

“Eddie…”

The way you came saying his name drove him straight through the edge with you. He gripped your waist tightly as he thrust sloppily through your high, the way you pulsed around him making him smirk. And, when you couldn’t stand anymore, Eddie pulled you down to lay down on him.

You gladly took the chance because you felt your whole body falling apart. Laid down on him and nuzzled into his neck, his chest wavering you up and down. His occasional pleasured humming here and there making you smile.

“Still jealous, honey?” 

If he had his eyes open, he’d have rolled them at your mocking tone. 

“Not that much,” he admitted.“I love you so much, y/n,” 

He whispered lazily, hand caressing the low of your back, a blissful smile on his lips you couldn’t see, but you could feel. 

The butterflied were there again.

“I know, and I love you too, Eddie.” You adjusted yourself slightly and he whined, still buried inside you. “Sorry,”

He chuckled. “Don’t be, just… Give me some time.”

“Yeah? Why?” You raised a brow. He chuckled.

“Because in round two I’ll be the one taking care of you.”

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 5

November 21st - Part 2

Erik’s tablet chimed as he finished up the dishes. He set aside the leftovers for later and went to see what DeeDee had to say.

He roared with laughter at how she ended the email. Why was she so stuck on finding out if he found the love he described? Her curiosity tickled him and now he had to decide how to navigate this conversation away from that kind of talk. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about the non-existent once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that he wanted. But how do you explain to someone how you never felt you deserved it, so you never went looking for it? And therefore, you don’t have it. 

Erik sighed and reached for something stronger than water to drink. 

He took the tablet, the bottle and glass into the living room. He took a seat on the couch and cracked his knuckles and began to write his response for the Curious DeeDee. Erik shook his head and laughed again. 

Erik hoped this would be enough to get DeeDee away from asking again, but something told him it wasn’t over.

---

DeeDee had devoured half of the pizza and the bottle of wine. She went to her room to  change out of her cleaning clothes into her favorite hoodie and a pair of yoga pants. 

Her laptop went off when she returned from the back, and DeeDee jumped onto her couch in excitement. She couldn’t wait to find out that he found his true life long love. 

If she couldn’t find it for herself, there was no reason for her to not want that for everyone else. Live vicariously through her new friend, Erik. Wait, could she consider him a friend? She scrunched her face at that rude thought and opened his email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Hi Dee Dee,

I know you know I meant science, but I will answer one of those questions to quell your curiosity. I, also, commend you for pursuing your doctorate, and in advanced chemistry, no less. 

So, it’s kind of a funny story, but I never meant to leave it in there. 

Fun fact about the note, it is much older than you think. I was a civil engineering major during undergrad, when I originally wrote that note and left it in the book. 

It happened when I was returning all my checked out books from the library. I was getting ready to move and needed to get them all in to avoid any replacement fees that would have prevented the conferral of my doctoral degree. So, I turned all of those books in without checking them. Which was definitely out of character for me. Especially since I lived by all my written notes for both class and research. 

I discovered it was missing when I went to look for it after the move. I knew exactly where it was, but I knew I wouldn’t be going back to get it. So, it was just out there. Besides, I knew what it said by heart, so it was fine.  

I will tell you I never expected to be discussing it years later though. It has been a very pleasant surprise.

Thank you,

E

“Of course, he would avoid the damn question.” She huffed out and poured another glass. It should not be that hard to answer, either he found it or is still in search of it. DeeDee’s hand stilled as she brought it to her lips. Nope, not going there tonight. She took a long drink of her wine.

She set the glass down, drew up her legs and crossed them before settling the computer on her lap. In a flurry, DeeDee’s fingers danced across her keyboard as she wrote her response. The alcohol heated her up to match her current mood. 

---

Erik was chilling, in a half-assed attempt to watch the movie playing on TV. He had turned the volume down because the woman’s high pitched tone was grating on his nerves. He set the whiskey down on his coffee table and leaned back with his feet propped up and closed his eyes. 

The easily recognizable email alert stirred him. Oh, she had time. It had only been about 20 minutes since he sent the last email. He sat up and opened up the email. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mr. Erik, 

So, you really aren’t going to answer that other question? Ok, that’s fine. I’ll let it slide for now.

Thank you for that. I have always wanted to work in the science field and I found toxicology while I was working on my Bachelors. I enjoy it and definitely appreciate having Dr. O as my mentor. 

That is an interesting story. The one time you lost control and you left something like the note behind. Well, I guess it is just my luck that I found it and decided to look for you, huh? Oh, and you’re welcome. 

What do you do now? I know you aren’t working in a lab or researching much anymore.  

I read a little bit about you but I don’t know much about the work that the Wakandan Outreach Centers do. I would love to hear about it.

DeeDee 

“That’s right. Quis, did say she was one of his students.” Then why was he worried about the person being a stalker. Erik set the tablet down and reached for his cell to text him. 

Erik: Quis, why were you worried about DeeDee?

Quis: What? 

Erik: About stalker potential?

Quis: Man, I didn’t even know it was her until she came and showed me a picture.

Erik: What picture?

Quis: Our Grad Student of the Year picture from the front of the Southern Digest.

Erik nodded his head, “So, Miss DeeDee knows what I look like. Or what I looked like.”

Quis: Everything good, man. 

Erik: Yeah, yeah. Just wanted a little background, can’t be too sure of people asking for help these days.  

Quis: DeeDee could never stoop to Karina’s level. She’s safe. 

“The hell, she is.” Erik picked up his glass and took a sip. “This woman is becoming more dangerous, as we speak.”

Quis: So, I take it that you can be of use to her?

Erik: Uh yeah, she is very sharp. 

Quis: You have no idea.

Erik: Thanks again. Oh, and I got the email, so I’m making plans now. 

Quis: Great. Later, man.

“If Marquis vouched for her, then I have nothing to worry about.”

Erik dropped his phone back onto the couch and picked up the tablet. 

“Here goes nothing.”

--- 

DeeDee was on Spotify. She picked a list at random and let the music take her away. She was slowly bodyrolling to Rome Flynn’s ‘Keep Me In Mind’ with a refreshed glass in hand, when her phone blinked. She walked over to it and saw that Erik had sent another email. She took a sip and picked up her phone to open his reply. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

DeeDee,

How did I go from Erik to Mister? 

I guess if you get to know me better than maybe you would find out the answer to your question. 

But you are right. I tend to have a tight rein on things, it has always been that way. So, when I lost the note, I was irritated before I realized it wasn’t going to matter in the long run. But it appears to have landed in exceptional hands. *winks*

Well, I am in the family business. My family started the Wakandan Outreach Centers. The first one was opened up here in Oakland. I am the Director of Operations for it and all the Centers on the West Coast.

My first love will always be science. So, although, I may not be active in the field according to your definition. I still use everything I learned and conduct research with my cousins on a regular basis.

Since you know so much about me. Tell me something about DeeDee. Like how much longer do you have to complete your doctorate? 

Mr. Erik

“Does he think that wink is gonna work on me?” DeeDee hid her smile behind the glass. “Damnit.” 

She locked up the phone and walked back to her couch. DeeDee traded devices and picked up her laptop to reply to Erik. 

“You don’t get to wink at me and then wash over the topic again.” 

DeeDee pressed down hard on each key as she typed. She admired the fact that his family was close enough to work together on something as big as the successful operation of multiple Outreach Centers across the U.S. But she would not rest until he answered her. 

“You aren’t cute, Mr. Erik.” She glanced over to the notebook, where the newspaper clipping of him and Dr. O was folded up inside. She recalled some dimples and a bright smile. He definitely towered over her 5’4 frame. He stood at least 2-3 inches taller than Dr. O, and she had to look up at him all the time. “Yeah, you not that cute.”

She clapped her hands and hit the ‘send’ button. Her phone went off. She saw Beverly sent something in the group chat.

Bev: Dinner and the club, tonight?

Phyll: You know I’m down. 

DeeDee: No thanks. I’m covered for the rest of the year.

Bev: Come on, DeeDee. 

DeeDee: Phyll, don’t you have work?

Phyll: Don’t try to change the subject, Dee. 

Bev: You ain’t doing nothing important. It’s not like you have something to study for anymore.

DeeDee looked at her computer. “Come on, Erik. Give me a reason to stay home tonight.”

---

Erik just brought the glass to his lips when the tablet alerted him to another email. So, they were really doing this tonight? Back and forth emails in real time. He doesn’t even remember the last time, he looked forward to hearing from someone. It had been a while since someone had his attention like that. And after a few simple emails, he found that DeeDee squirmed her way into that space. 

“What’s up Miss DeeDee?” He opened the email, “Ready to share?”

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Mister Erik, 

*pouts* Fine. I don’t know why you can’t just answer the question now, but ok. 

That is wonderful. Sounds like the family business is treating you well. And you are enjoying what you do. That is all I want from my career. I want to do research and teach others. It’s a growing field so if we can get more men and women of color into STEM careers, I am here for it. 

Something about me -- I’m an only child and a legacy student. Both of my parents attended Southern. In fact, it’s where they met all those years ago. And I like to read...like I can read anything and get lost in someone else’s world for hours.

But this is hopefully my final semester, I am preparing to defend my dissertation next month. Wish me luck!  

DeeDee

“Her parents met at Southern?” Erik put the tablet down and walked over to his fireplace. He picked up the center picture from the mantle and closed his eyes briefly.  Two people were standing together in front of a large building. He rubbed his fingers over the top of the image of his parents. It read John B. Cade, it was the library at Southern University. Where his parents met and fell in love. 

Erik took a deep breath and put the picture back up. He stood there and looked at the tablet.

“Is it possible that she could be?” He shook his head before he went down that road. The image of the last woman he thought could be his one and only flashed across his mind. He groaned out. Erik walked over to the couch and grabbed the tablet. “Only one way to find out.”

Taglist: @teakturn​​ @ghostfacekill-monger​​ @shaekingshitup​​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​​ @woahitslucyylu​​ @ladymac82​​ @bugngiz​​ @eyeknowmywrites​​ @ajspencer1892​​ @arafatih​​ @issimplyaamazinggg​​ @tchallasbabymama​​

[cal-puddies]

a million little times // ashton irwin

big shout out to @kindahoping4forever for letting me work this out and coming in with the last minute help for re-ordering. i hope she was surprised because i started this so she would be. (old convo a while ago, i didn’t forget!)

word count: 2169

warnings: angsty, mentions of cheating/infidelity, mentions of sex

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Let me know what you think!

Ash falls onto his bed. Your smell surrounds him, from the last time you were there; a tawdry 2 weeks of nakedness and sex, kissing and talking and showing you everything he could be for you. 

But you still left when Logan came back. 

Him and the band were in rehearsal for tour and he knew it’d be months before he could see you again. He wouldn’t get to see you until he was home or if Logan left and you could get away.

He catches the green toothbrush, next to his pink one out of the corner of his eye; you’d immediately gone for the green when presented with the choices and Ash happily took the pink because he was with you. He kept all of your travel stuff since he was single and if it wasn’t around at home it couldn’t raise any questions. Again, Ash was happy to, because it meant he was with you. 

He remembers the way the sheets wrapped around your body and it gave and gave and gave, and he couldn’t imagine any man not giving you absolutely everything. 

He thinks about you just in his shirt, so undone and pretty, the hours and hours of talking. Spilling all your secrets to each other, you told him about what you’d wanted in life and he told you how he wanted a family. 

Even though he subconsciously knew you were someone else’s, you always made him feel like you were his, like Logan didn’t exist, unless he brought him up first. 

*****

Logan places his cufflinks while he watches you finish your makeup, “we could have paid someone.” He mentions, checking his tie. 

“Why? it’s just a party.” You shrug. 

“You never let me spoil you.” He groans. 

“You only want it because I’m the girl on your arm.” You roll your eyes, the air was tense, like it always is anymore. “And I don’t need to be spoiled.” 

“Fine.” He huffs. 

He watches you reach for perfume, he grabs the one he got you most recently, but you reach for the one you bought for Ashton, without even thinking. 

“When did you even get that?” Logan asks, seeming to really notice it for the first time. 

“I’m not sure, a couple years ago?” You reach for Ashton’s earrings and walk out to get yourself dressed. 

When you get to the party, Ashton is the first person you look for, he’s in the middle of the room, surrounded by his friends, he smiles softly when you make eye contact.

“Should we get drinks?” Logan asks. 

You nod, leading him toward the middle of the room before heading to the bar. When you pass Ash you tuck your hair behind your ear, so he sees the earrings and gets a whiff of you. He knows that means to find you later. 

You excuse yourself to fix your makeup, Ash locks the door behind him a few minutes later, pressing himself against your back. “What do you want?” He whispers. 

“You, just you.” You murmur, turning into him, kissing him. 

It’s instantly needy, he can’t keep you in here long and you both know that. You immediately start undoing his belt, and he lifts you onto the counter, pulling your skirt up over your waist and pushing your panties to the side. 

Logan spots you when you walk back in from outside. You glance at Ashton, back with his friends like 10 minutes ago you weren’t wrapped around him. His cheeks were a little pink, but you were downright still flushed. 

Logan’s arm scoops around your back, “there you are.” Is tightly whispered in your ear. 

“It’s just a little warm, stepped out for some air.” 

“Well are you ok? You still look flushed.”

*****

Ash can’t wait, you can sense it the second you open the door to his car, leaving yours in the office lot again. 

You were heading to the Beverly Wilshire, where you spent most of your multi day sessions with him. Especially back when it was New, 5 years ago. 

His hand slides up your thigh and you glance at him. He smiles and his eyes soften, the look he gave you when you first met; Before he knew you were married, or what you did, before putting all the moves on you. It inevitably worked. You could say for certain. 

Which is why you were here now. 

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and he puts the car in drive. 

“I hate the rules.” He murmurs, while you’re laying in bed together. 

“I know. They aren’t my favorite either.” You admit, looking up at him. “But, they keep us from overstepping.” 

“You mean they keep me from asking you to leave him again.” 

“Ashton.” You move away, pushing yourself off the bed. You grab his button down and pull it on. “We can’t do this again. You know all the reasons why…” 

Ash gets on his knees and crawls across the bed, grabbing you by the waist, “Yes, I know all the reasons why we shouldn’t have this conversation, but I have one why we should.” He presses his lips to yours. You make a “hmmm” noise, “because I love you, and you love me. And we’re great together. And you told me 3 years ago that you weren’t in love with him anymore.” 

“Yes and we almost went through with that plan and someone got cold feet.” You remind him, tapping his chest before pulling away, heading for the bathroom. 

“Does he make you cum like I do?” He calls after you. 

“You know he doesn’t.” You say, closing the door. 

Ash collapses face first on the bed, sighing. 

*****

There was barely enough space for Ash in the backseat of the SUV, and it was only now that you were twisting his curls between your fingers, head on your chest, draped over your body like a blanket that you really took notice.

“That dress looked incredible.” He murmurs. 

“Oh, did you even see it?” You breathe out a laugh, “before we got cum all over it?” You tease.

“I’m sorry, it’s been too long.” He smiles at you. 

“I know, that’s why I agreed to a parking lot meetup… didn’t know I needed a change of clothes though.” You smirk. 

“You can come back to mine?” Ash offers, knowing you’d likely say no and you should say no.

“Bubba.” You murmur. “I think I’d love that. But that doesn’t solve the ‘what will I wear home?’ Situation.” You point out. 

“Couldn’t you stay? Say you went out with the girls or stayed downtown because you worked late?”  

“I’d be pushing it.” You sigh. 

“Let me have you for the night, please?” He's so close to begging, sitting up to unleash the full power of his pout and green eyes. 

“Ash…” you reach up, resting your palm on his cheek, “you know I want that too.” 

“You’ll have to shower anyway, I’m all over you. You have stuff at my place.” He reminds you. 

“We agreed not at your place anymore… too personal, too many emotions in that bed, too easy for your friends to just pop by.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just hard you know? I want you around.” 

“I know.” You nod. 

“What do you say? Just come shower.” He tries again.

“Ok,” You agree, sitting up and reaching for your panties. You know going to his place means you’ll give in and stay the night. It’s why it became off limits in the first place. 

Ash pulls on his undershirt and pants, handing over his button down for you to put on instead of the cum covered dress. 

He gets you to stay, coaxing you to the bed so he can hold you before you shower. 

“Can I see you again this week?” He asks. 

You look over his face, he looks so unsure, lacking the confidence he normally has. “Maybe, I think Logan might be out of town this weekend. I’ll let you know.” You promise. You peck him on the lips, breathing in deep and trying to remember every bit of this night.

You text Logan that you’d be staying downtown due to working late. 

*****

Ashton knew it was wrong, the second you gave him a second glance though, he was gone. You flicked your hair off your shoulder and he saw the wedding ring, but it didn’t stop him from approaching you at the bar. 

He brushes his fingertips over your bare shoulder. “Doesn’t a pretty little thing like you have someone to fetch her drinks?” 

He can feel your eyes roll. “Yeah, sure. But did it cross your mind that I needed to get away?” You smirk. 

“Ashton.” He holds out his hand and you turn to shake it, he’s immediately breathless, staring in your eyes. You introduce yourself and occupy your time talking to him, maybe another 20 minutes. 

You lose yourself, not noticing the other people around trying to get drinks, but you notice when he puts himself in between you and a glass of wine you’d knocked with your elbow, catching the spill himself. Your eyes go wide, “I’m so so sorry!” You say, grabbing for napkins being handed to you by the bartender. 

“It’s ok… for you? I’d ruin myself a million little times.” He hushes you, giving you a sweet smile. 

He asks for your number as you get ready to move on, “Bold, since I saw you looking at my wedding ring.” You tease. 

“Just wanna talk to you again.” He shrugs, handing over his phone so you can punch in the number. 

*****

I can’t meet at the hotel. I have to meet L for dinner. 

We need to talk. 

He didn’t respond, but Ashton was waiting in your parking lot, from the early days. It sat near the beach, and you were very familiar with the traffic patterns of it. 

You see he’s not in his car so you head out to the beach and see him there, alone. 

“Hey baby.” You say quietly, standing just behind him.

“This is it, isn’t it?” He asks.

“I’m not sure. Logan’s job wants him to move… to the UK.” 

“You know we go there sometimes.” He points out. “What about your job?”

“We haven’t talked about what it means for us yet. That’s why I had to cancel our night.” You admit. 

“So, what… you wanted to come here and break my heart, kid?” He snarks back, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“Don’t be an asshole, Ash. You’ve known this thing had a time limit.” 

He sighs and stands in front of you, “I’ll always wish we’d met before you met him. Because I do think you’d be with me.” 

“Ash…” you say softly. “We can’t…” 

“Yeah… I know. Call me or don’t at this point.” He shrugs, squeezing your shoulder as he walks off. 

*****

Ash looks at himself in the mirror, it was a typically rainy day in London and he had the night off, so he was heading out to meet you at a hotel you’d picked. 

He hadn’t seen you six months, since your move to London. He knew you were miserable and hated it, you’d emailed him a bunch and he’d send the bare minimum in replies. Having the distance and the beach moment gave him clarity. 

He sighs, slipping on a jacket and then taking the elevator to slide into a car. 

He spots you immediately, and he can almost smell your perfume at the door. 

“Hi.” He mentions, standing next to you at the bar. 

“Hey,” you smile softly, moving to hug him and he looks around and shakes his head so you stop and course correct. “I’ve missed you.” You offer. 

“Yeah? My life’s been different without you.” He agrees. And then he’s quiet. He lets you talk at him a bit, but doesn’t offer anything up. 

“What’s going on?” You ask. 

He’s silent for a while longer and then swirls the glass in his hand, “You know how sometimes the world stops? And it’s like… big life changing moments? I’ve had a few of them. But 3 have been with you, and only one has been truly positive, and I don’t know if it’s meeting you, or leaving you.” He tips the glass of whiskey back against his lips. 

He slips off the stool and throws a few bills on the bar to pay for all the drinks. 

“Wait… Ashton?” You ask, confused. He can see the tears in your eyes and any other time, that’d stop him. 

“Go home to Logan…” he murmurs, “you’ll never be mine and I’m not ok with second best any more.” 

“You were never second best.” You whisper, biting your lip, holding back tears. 

“I was never gonna be the one you chose.” He shrugs. “And I’ve accepted that.” He turns on his heel to walk away. 

“I came here to choose you.” You whisper to his back.

If you would like to be tagged when I post, make sure you get added to the new tag list!

@jazzyangel242 @kindahoping4forever @iamcalumswhore @aquarius-hood1996 @justhereforcalum @suchalonelysunflower @kathybinx @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @letmeadoreyoucalumx @begluketostay @mymindwide @uh-huhh-honey

[alstanfordart]

Bob’s Nightmare. Scene below.

@queenoftheclownsme

@theblackrosegoddess

It awoke. Not particularly rested. Its mind had drifted. Drifted back to the Todash, leaving Its material presence hidden beneath the ground, safely stashed away in a dark crevice of the cave. As Its conscious was violently ripped back into Its avatar of Robert Gray, It could feel the wound. No healing. Something had awakened It.

Not healed. Not healed but awake prematurely.

Confused, It staggers up, focusing Its one eye, seeing only black. Hearing creaking sounds and door slamming. Unable to see a few feet in front of It with just a subtle hint of weak light from an unknown source. It begins to walk and as It does, It hears, at the edge of the darkness, children singing;

'Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's, you owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's.'

It pauses in Its steps as It sees a flash of yellow accompanied by giggling.

A boy.

The voice of the child causes unease as another blur of yellow dashes past, before the child appears before It, partially obscured by the shadows save for emerald rain boots stark against the midnight and a speck of light in each iris.

What the Hell is this?

Little Georgie Denbrough in his slick rain coat, skin flaps dangling from his bloody stump as he slowly reveals himself as a gentle sound of thunder and rain drift out from behind him.

The boy approaches, neutral expression, standing before It.

"Why did you kill me?" Georgie asks, his round face pale, his eyes rimmed with dark circles as he gazes up. "I didn't do anything. I just wanted my boat."

Georgie holds out his hand, the paper boat sitting on his tiny fingers, blood starting to seep through and engulf the faded paper.

"It wasn't anything personal kid, I was hungry." Robert growls, lip curling up in disgust and taking a step back from this unwelcome mirage.

Like It needs to justify Itself to this brat. He is what led to Its confrontation with the hated ones. Perhaps had It targeted another child...

But maybe that would have lead to an entirely different group of children targeting It.

Maybe the Final Other intended it that way.

And that boat. That fucking boat is what started the whole mess.

It doesn't pursue this train of thought further, as it enrages It.

There's a shift in Georgie's melancholy demeanor and a creepy grin breaks out as he bends down to place his boat on a thin river of blood that has manifested, suspended a few feet above the ground.

Georgie then steps back, his form breaking apart as it evaporates upwards into the darkness as the now crimson-soaked boat starts to glide along as the singing starts up again;

'When will you pay me? Say the bells at Old Bailey. When I grow rich, say the bells at Shoreditch.'

Robert stares down at the boat as it starts to move, the blood river carrying it along. The boat's route becomes altered as the river begins to flow out, a small wave lifting it through the air. Robert's gaze follows as a red-haired woman appears amid the swirling ruby.

Beverly Marsh.

"Well, aren't you a sight," she smirks, hands perched upon her hips. "Just as bad as the time I stabbed you in the head. Couldn't sleep that one off, huh?"

The little bitch.

Snarling, quill teeth now jetting out his mouth, Robert lunges, only to have her vaporize as he goes to tear at her throat. Her disembodied laugh echoing around him. The blood river drifts off, taking the small boat along as it disappears into the gloom as a cream-colored wooden door appears. It steadily swings open, revealing a bathroom. Robert refrains from coming closer, but the room appears to envelope him, moving on its own.

The steam cloud blanketing the area barely conceals a dark-haired man slouched in a bathtub.

Stanley Uris, head lolling against his shoulder.

Spotting Robert, he sits up as he holds out his wrists, thin slashes appearing and dripping, inking the bath water red and dotting the white porcelain.

"I got to grow up at least." he says.

Robert gives a contemptuous scoff. "You did that to yourself."

"After you came to me." Stan retorts, lowering his arms slowly, staring blankly at Robert, a little half-smile just barely showing. Robert quickly retreats, slamming the door as it dissolves in a puff of thin smoke.

It is growing increasingly uncomfortable. Anxious. It must get out of here, whatever this is.

A dream. A nightmare.

Limbo? Had It been killed while slumbering?

Robert's head darts around as he searches the area, strange clanking sounds and echos vibrate in the distance coupled with a growing forest of giggling children's voices and the baaing of sheep.

'When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney. I do not know, says the great bell at Bow.'

Mike Hanlon comes forth, holding up a photo album. Opening it, there are various photographs of black birds.

"We're all afraid of something-even you." he says as the birds come to life and begin to flap their wings and squawk, emerging from the album's pages in droves, growing larger in size as they fly at Robert, pecking at him, their beady eyes glowing yellow. He ducks down and swats at them, growling as Mike fades into the dark.

As the birds swoop away, another familiar male voice appears.

"What's up clown man!" Richie Tozier jumps out, bat in hands as Robert, startled, stumbles backwards.

Ugh, of all the Losers, It had hated this one the most. The insulting little shit.

Richie continues to swing the bat, the wood making audible swooshing sounds that cut through the air.

Roaring, Robert grabs at the weapon, only to have his hands pass through it, tumbling forward as Richie cackles.

"Hey, no! Sorry no cigar! You know this place is worse than that crack house." he says, as he pauses to adjust his glasses.

Another final voice, immediately recognizable.

"He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts, he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts."

Bill Denbrough steps forth from the tenebrosity, the boat pinched between his fingers.

"You're not real. None of you are. Old age took you back to the weeds long ago." Robert says glaring at him, his one iris starting to spark as Bill approaches.

Save for Mike. All are gone.

Bill smirks. "We're not real enough for you?" he replies, chuckling as an inhaler rolls out beside his feet. Eddie Kaspbrak reaches down to pluck it up, standing alongside Bill.

Raising it to his lips, he halts. "I actually don't need this anymore." Eddie says as he chucks it casually over his shoulder.

Richie moves to stand by them along with Mike and Beverly, with Georgie close behind, followed by Ben Hanscom, who holds up a piece of a large eggshell, black and shiny. Robert's expression drops at the sight, an angry grimace exposing his razor incisors.

Stanley Uris suddenly joins them, that same barely-smile still there. Almost mocking.

Robert glances around at his former adversaries.

"You should have stayed out of it. All of you, had you just kept to your business, let me have what I wanted, Stan and Eds would have lived longer, happier lives. I would have been nothing more than fragments of a forgotten dream. Amnesia is a kindness."

"We forgot, but you haven't forgotten us," Mike offers. "Have you?"

"We're still here," Bill adds, tapping the tip of the paper boat against his temple. "Can't escape that."

The eight are now bordering around him, with more emerging from behind: Candice Swain, Veronica Dell, the drunk Samuel, Colin and Hank Dobson, Esther, Noah Brady, the Muncy family, Julie, the hateful redhead Heather Taggart, Brandon Wilkes, Emily and her mother and the rest of the newest souls he'd claimed on this planet as well as his victims from Derry; the boys from the tunnel, Derek Stuart and James, Henry Bowers, Patrick Hockstetter decked out in his cartoon cat shirt, features chewed, the other two punks from the Bower's gang whose names he couldn't be bothered to remember, their necks bloodied, ripped open. Betty Ripsom, little Victoria, Adrian Mellon and the faces of endless Derry children and adults, some recognizable, some barely a hint of familiarity, many just a passing blip on his existence like pretty Martha and naive Alison. Many he'd used and killed like Tom Rogan, some that survived his Deadlights like Audra Denbrough.

As well as the unfortunate wife of the true Robert Gray, Agnes and their daughter Emma. Scowling and hateful.

Decades upon decades of victims. Many missing limbs, their eyeballs gouged out, blood bubbling from their mouths.

"Why'd you kill me?"

"You ripped my legs off and left my body in a ditch."

"You ate my baby. My only son."

"My father died from a broken heart after I went missing."

"They only found my head with no eyes."

Whispering, talking, with some laughing menacingly, all tinted in dull green-blue as the numbers begin to grow as more appear behind them.

Then a few clear a path, allowing another achingly familiar figure to step into the bleak light.

Mirasal.

She moves to stand before him, bringing her arms up to scissor them across her chest, she gives him a somber scowl.

Robert lowers himself to his knees, keeping his gaze locked with hers as resentment and hatred glimmer within her cerulean disks.

"What was that you told me? That I could trust you?" she says, giving a repulsed head shake.

No. This is not her. Remember that. None of this is real.

Just a dream. It's not real.

Robert hangs his head in his hands. "I don't want to hurt you." he mutters into his palms, his face shooting up at the sound of her chuckling derisively.

"Like I would believe you, you even thought about killing me," she replies. "Or perhaps give me a little scare."

With that, she leaps forward, her mouth unhinging, the blue eyes switching to ebony as she comes at him with her claws out. Robert winces back, covering his face, ducking his head down, only to feel nothing. He gingerly peeks out from beneath his fingers.

She's vanished. But the others, their irises blacking out to mimic that same appearance, still remain. All begin to draw closer, the Loser's Club at the forefront, their hands growing paler, some stained with blood splatter, grabbing at him as they close in, swaying back and forth, becoming more zombie-like.

"Get away from me," Robert rapidly stands, whirling around, panic gripping him as he growls, his one intact pupil now burning bright. "Get away."

"We all float down here, Robert. Float with us. Float with us. " they all cantillate in unison. "Float with us."

"No, no. Leave me alone." Robert drops back down to the ground, cowering, shielding himself from their increasingly grotesque faces, their features shriveling up and dropping to the ground. Their cackles resounding through his skull, magnified.

"You'll float too! You'll float too! You'll float too!"

"No!" Robert shouts, covering his ears as the area begins to spin, the faces around him now blending together. "No! No! No! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Their laughing abruptly ceases, their fingers no longer grabbing and prodding at him, and all is quiet save for the angelic crooning beginning to rise again;

'Here comes a candle to light you to bed.'

Robert follows the source, coming into view of a tall lithe figure, its slouching back facing him, standing in the center of a circle of light. The air above has red balloons hovering, completely still as Robert approaches, pausing every other step as the being becomes more visible, its ruffled off-white costume beginning to twitch as it turns to face him, bells jingling.

Robert stands facing his favorite form as it gives an empty grin.

What?

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed." Pennywise says as he reaches his elongated gloved fingers to grip the nape of Robert's neck. His eyes are two empty sockets, devoid of any color, his teeth yellowed needles as he brings his ghostly features closer, smooth, almost as if they were set in porcelain. Without warning he slams Robert to the ground, the strings of the balloons suspended above gently blow in response as he straddles him.

"Time to pay the piper, ol' Bob Gray," Pennywise intones as he lowers his teeth, only an inch from Robert's visage of both fear and confusion, the dripping saliva strings cold against his skin. Pennywise traces a bony finger along Robert's nose. "And here comes a chopper to chop off your head! Chip chop chip chop, the last man is dead!" he starts to maniacally cackle.

Squeezing his lids, Robert lets out a roar, fighting to free himself, thrashing beneath his double.

And just like that, the clown and the balloons are gone.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 10: Who Needs You •

    “You!”

    The howl of fury from Sonia Kaspbrak brought a whole new sense of fear to the Losers as they stood on the opposing end of her finger. Having fled the gruesome house on Neibolt, the Losers, in a great panic, had managed to haul their injured friend away from Neibolt and back to his own front lawn. Thanks to Mike, who while thinking quickly, had placed Eddie in his bike’s basket, the two were able to escape on their bikes with the rest of their friends. And though the horrid scene was now blocks away, not a single Loser dared lose a notch of speed. Nor did they stop until they had discarded their bikes on Eddie’s front lawn, panting heavily.

    “You did this!” She hissed, immediately separating Eddie from his friends.

    The seven Losers parted hesitantly as she forced him by the nape of the neck across the lawn towards her car.

    “You know how delicate he is.” She huffed, earning a few heavy eye rolls from a select few.

    Bill stepped forward after them, finding his voice, and powering through his stutter.

    “W-We were attacked, M-Mrs. K,”

    She opened the squeaky passenger door, just about shoving Eddie inside, and turned on the seven friends. She stared each of them down, fiery gaze meeting with each pair of eyes.

    “No! Don’t,” she ordered, slamming the door shut, caging a still frightened Eddie. “Don’t try to blame anyone else.”

    Her hands shake with rage, causing her ring of keys to slip from her fingers and land on the pavement. Seeing this, Beverly bends down after them.

    “Let me help-” She offers, only to be cut off and shooed away by the woman.

   "Get back!“ She bellows.

    She steps forward, retrieving her keys, and straightens enough to lean in close to intimidate Beverly.

    "Oh, I’ve heard of you miss Marsh,” Mrs. Kaspbrak sneered. “And I don’t want a dirty girl like you touching my son.”

    “Mrs. Kaspbrak, please, if we could just explain-” Y/n pleas were soon cut short.

    “Enough!” The woman roared, her puffy face turning red.

    She looked Y/n up and down with a snide look in her eye as if the young girl was nothing more than something she had dragged in on her shoe.

    “Don’t think I haven’t heard of you either, you filthy little thing! Following this harlot around town,” she quickly throws Beverly a hostile look. “begging for scraps like some stray. Wouldn’t be surprised if you picked up on her dirty little habits and I certainly won’t have you lurking around my son any longer!”

    Y/n stood unnaturally still, taking the conjectures she had heard almost her entire life with surprising composure. But that wall she had built up, cracked, just ever so at the mention of Eddie and she glanced past the screaming woman and into the car where Eddie’s small stature was barely visible over the windows in the low seat. This was the first time he had allowed himself to look at one of them, and it was at Y/n.

    Their eyes met, her gaze was distant, and she seemed to be disconnecting from reality as if to spare herself from the pain of saying goodbye. As if she knew his mother would finish her lecture, get in the car, and drive away with Eddie and that would be it. She knew that Eddie wouldn’t stand up for her. Get angry for her, or even for himself, and finally stand up to his mother. But she didn’t blame him, he had barely escaped death, and even still, he had a horribly broken arm.

    But that didn’t stop her heart from breaking as she saw his large doe brown eyes staring back at her. They were frightened and docile as his mother continued shouting abuse at her; The girl who was quickly after his heart.

    “You are not to speak to my Eddie, you are not to set foot within five hundred feet, of my Eddie Bear, nor can you even-” she stopped suddenly, roughly turning the girl’s head to look at her, and lowered her voice. “You are not to even look at my Eddie.”

    She leaned forward into the girl’s face and glared spitefully.

    “I don’t want my son catching fleas.” She spits.

    Everyone had stood silently in shock, not expecting such venomous words from the woman. Nor were they expecting a heated comeback from Richie who stepped forward beside Y/n, fists clenched despite his otherwise cool exterior.

    “With all due respect, Mrs. K, Y/n isn’t the problem,” Her wild glare shifted to the boy. “If you’re worried about fleas, Eddie’s more likely to catch ‘em from living up your v-”

    Richie was suddenly cut off by a hand clamping over his mouth, it was Y/n. Who albeit, very much appreciated the gesture - and would certainly laugh about it in the future - still wanted at least a sliver of a chance of both her and Richie getting to see Eddie again.

    The woman took a long deep breath and glared daggers at the boy. Anyone there would know a million things were running through her head at that moment; several things she would have liked to have said to the no-good heathen that her son always clung to, but she knew she could waste no more time. Her eyes said enough.

    “Don’t start with me young man, this is far from over.” She seethed.

    And with that, she whirled around on her heel and wobbled over to the driver’s side.

    “Thanks, Richie,” Y/n croaked, a silent tear streaking her dirtied cheek.

    “Catching fleas,” Richie grumbled. “Honestly! And you guys actually think my mouth’s the one that outta be sewn shut.”

    The remaining seven Losers watched miserably, and helplessly as the '79 Pacer Wagon containing their friend, disappeared around the block. Y/n felt hopelessly deflated, and her gaze fell to her torn and mucked up shoes. She silently noted they were somehow, even filthier now thanks to her trip to Neibolt. Her slight disappointment with her shoes paled in comparison to what she was really troubled with. It felt as though, even when they had each escaped with their lives, this moment did not feel like a victory.

    Bill turned to face them each, a surprising amount of hope in his eyes and it was enough to pull Y/n from her somber thoughts. That is until she heard what he had to say.

    “I saw the well.” He says, drawing several concerned glances his way. “W-w-we know where it is, and-and next time we’ll be better prepared.”

    “No!” Stan cried incredulously. “No next time, Bill! You’re insane!”

    “Why?” Beverly countered. “We all know no one else is going to do anything.”

    Y/n looked at her best friend with a pained look, shocked and brokenhearted at where this conversation would head. Biting her lip, she steps forward, anger flaring up.

    “And what about Eddie?” Y/n asked heatedly, gesturing down the street before pointing at her other bleeding friend. “or Ben? Does the fact that they, among all of us, nearly died, mean anything to you guys?”

    Bill does not fight hard to stop the wounded expression molding onto his face, but it quickly dissolves in his growing impatience. “Y-You too?”

    “Bill,” Mike eases. “Come on, man, think of what you’re asking.”

    “N-No,” he sputters. “Think of w-what you’re asking.”

    Richie gapes at his friend, a look of wild bewilderment in his eyes and his arms thrown to the sides. “You shittin’ me, Bill? Were you not just in that crack den with us? Did you not see what happened? Fucking Christ, we were this close to being chum!”

    Beverly stepped forward, a hand thrown behind her as she gestured protectively to Bill. “But we’re not! We hurt it - Y/n, you hurt it! Don’t you guys see? The moment we came together is the moment It got weaker.”

    “And look where it got us,” Y/n scoffed, looking around at the broken circle of Losers. “Beverly, this isn’t some make-believe bullshit quest we’re talking about. Hell, I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I do know one thing. That we’re just kids, and we don’t stand a chance against that thing.”

    A sour look crosses Beverly’s face at her friend’s words.

    “Well, we can’t pretend It’s gonna go away,” she argued, suddenly turning to the Hanscom boy. “Ben, you said it yourself, It comes back every twenty-seven years.”

    “Fine! I’ll be forty and far away from here.” He snapped, immediately feeling a small pang of guilt and his demeanor softens just ever so. “I thought you said you wanted to get out of this town, too.”

    “Because I wanna run towards something. Not away,”

    Richie’s eyes rolled behind his thick lenses, and he threw his arm up at the girl with great annoyance.

    “I’m sorry, who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?”

    Beverly merely glared and held up her middle finger to the trashmouth.

    “Richie-” Stan argued.

    “No!” Richie looks around once more, anger flaring up as he gestures to Y/n. “Y/n’s right, we need to face facts. Real world.”

    Richie settled his gaze on Bill, a genuine spark of sympathy in his eyes.

    “Georgie is dead.” He says, and he feels as if the weight he’s carried tiptoeing around his friend has lifted and he begins to walk away. “Stop trying to get us killed, too,”

    Bill jumps in front of Richie, instantly blocking his path, and his face goes beet red in anger.

    “Georgie’s not dead!” Bill roars, squaring his shoulders though he did not feel more powerful.

    Richie looks his friend in the eye and notes his hurt, but cannot ignore his own. “You couldn’t save him, but you can still save yourself.”

    “No!” Bill stops Richie in his tracks once more, his stutter flaring up as every ounce of hurt over his brother resurfaces. “T-ta-t-take it b-back! Y-You’re scared,”

    Bill looks around at his circle of friends, all lost and broken.

    “we all are. But take it back!” He shouts, his heartbreak turning to anger in seconds and he shoves Richie back harshly.

    Richie tenses briefly before charging after Bill and shoving him harshly. Bill can no longer hold back. All his anger, hurt, and loss that had been festering over the past several months. It had all boiled to the top and formed a fist that hooked into Richie’s left jaw that sent him stumbling into the concrete.

    “Bill!”

    Stan and Mike scramble to pick Richie up off the ground, and Ben lunges after Bill to keep him from another attempted swing at Richie.

    “You’re just a bunch of losers!” Richie sputters, fighting against his friends to get a punch in himself.

    “Richie, stop, just take a breath,” Y/n eases, placing herself between the boys.

    Blinded by the betrayal, and the painful welt already forming on his jaw, Richie ignores the girls’ pleas and continues shouting over to Bill. “Fuck off! You’re just a bunch of losers who’ll get yourselves killed-”

    Beverly cuts in, her own anger boiling to the top. “Stop!”

    “-trying to kill a fucking clown!”

    “STOP!” Beverly roars, finally gaining everyone’s attention.

    A look of clarity passes over her and she looks around at her friends. “This is what It wants. It wants to divide us. We were all together when we hurt It. That’s why we’re still alive.”

    “Yeah?” Richie pipes, adjusting his lenses having finally broken free. “Well, I plan to keep it that way.”

    His chest puffed out in his mix of pride and anger, he marches past Bill. Not without a swift but harsh shove of the shoulder, knocking him off balance. One by one the rest of Losers follow his lead, the first being Y/n.

    “Y/n-”

    “No, Beverly,” Y/n states, heartbreak evident in her voice. She turns to look at her two friends, her eyes matching her tone. “No way. That’s three times now I’ve barely gotten out alive. I’m not trying for a fourth.”

    Her mouth parted to speak the parting words that sat on her tongue, but even goodbye was too painful. In a way, she feared if she were to say it, she’d be sealing their very fates. That she’d never see them again, so instead, she settles for picking up her bike, casting one last pained look their way before disappearing down the road.

    Bill shifts his attention to Mike, who is already picking up his bike.

    “Mike-?” His voice is aching, pleading for his friend to stay.

    Mike only stops briefly, throwing back an equally broken and pleading voice. He shrugs, defeated.

    “Guys… I can’t do this,” he shakes his head, his grandfather’s voice ringing in his ears and tugging at his gut. “My granddad was right… I’m an outsider. Gotta stay that way.”

    And just as Y/n had moments earlier, he mounts his bike without another word and starts off down the road. Bill and Bev remain, exchanging sullen looks at a loss for words. And a plan.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    The town of Derry Maine had never been in more danger with the separation of the Losers Club. And the kids themselves had never felt more broken. In the span of just those few short minutes, their world had shattered. The only Losers to remain in one another’s company was Y/n and Richie, who both carried the heavyweight of Eddie’s absence on their shoulders the most. But even they found themselves alone in times where it counted the most.

    In the weeks that followed, a dark cloud hung threateningly above their heads, watching their every move. While this was by definition, the very concept of Derry itself, they knew now exactly what it was. And yet, after all they had faced, all the pain and horror that would follow them for the rest of their lives, there still lingered the pain of their separation.

    Beverly sat at her desk, head hung over her keyboard as she plucks away a familiar tune. It brought her back to the many times Y/n had been over, the two of them both attempting to play half of a song, laughing hysterically in the process as they screwed each other up. It would go on like this with no end in sight, that is until Beverly’s father came to scold them for being too loud. But when he disappeared they’d just snicker to one another, too amused to care. But all Beverly had now to keep her company was her sullen thoughts and the many photos of herself and her friends - mostly Y/n - scattered across her wall.

    Bill’s house was as lonely as ever. Like Beverly - and the rest of their friends - Bill would wander the halls of his house, desperately hoping for a distraction from the loneliness he felt. Not just from the fight with his friends, but the usual lack of Georgie that taunted him. His picture was everywhere which seemed rather odd to Bill given his parents’ blatant denial of Georgie’s death that went so far as to pretend he had never existed at all. As he sat alone in the dining room now, watching the summer rain patter against the window just has it had that day, he felt the inescapable grip of isolation clutch his heart. He hadn’t been greeted by such a silence since before summer break where he’d face the emptiness of his house with not even his mother’s piano to coat the silence that Georgie left. And to this day, nothing had touched the piano but the thick layer of dust that coated it now.

    Stan had not been fairing so well either. While he usually found himself facing a great deal of frustrations with the combined chaos of Richie, Y/n, and Eddie, he now found he missed them greatly. He missed sharing jokes with Beverly that nobody else understood, and he missed sharing gentle, quiet moments with Mike who always showed interest in Stan’s hobbies like birdwatching. Something the others never really took to. The quick remarks thrown back and forth between Bill and himself from the sidelines when the others got into mischief. And Ben, who often tended to be soft-spoken like himself, was better at creating a space for Stan to talk when he didn’t feel quite as heard. Stan missed the Losers deeply, and more than anything, he missed being one.

    Mike went back to work on his grandparents’ farm. Not that he hadn’t ever stopped, but now he had nothing to look forward to. Normally, his days consisted of farm work until five - sometimes four-thirty if he got his work done early - before he promptly met up with his best friends. Now it was just himself, all alone on the farm again. Aside from Mooriuel, his favorite calf who he had named in secret. She was rather happy to be seeing more of him on the farm. Though like her caretaker, she missed the occasional visits from his friends. But they hardly did, except for Y/n who’d often feed the cows snacks, and even made a daisy chain for Mike that he refused to take off. That had made her smile profusely, and he often thought of that day.

    While Mike had thrown his attention into his work on the farm - including taking up the duty of putting down the sheep, which he greatly despised - Ben spent his time deep within the books at the Derry Public Library. He hadn’t learned much, nothing he hadn’t already yet again he found himself closing another dusty old book. He sighs, looking up at the first thing his eyes find. Coincidentally, though deep in his heart it does not feel right to call it a coincidence, his gaze lands on an old painting framed on the wall that loomed over the entire library.

    It was a woman and her newborn child standing alone on a prairie, looking deep into an old familiar-looking well. Ben knew very well that it was a historical art piece of Derry, the Well House no less and as he looks at it now he can feel the thick layer of ice encircling his heart and chilling him to the very bone. What horrors this town was capable of, horrors he had seen with his own eyes, and yet no one else in Derry had even the slightest clue what lived under their very noses. He wondered if they ever would.

    Eddie Kaspbrak perhaps fared the worst among his friends, he hadn’t realized how suffocating his own home truly was when he didn’t have the simple escapes with the Losers. It was a feeling both metaphorical and literal as he struggled to survive under his mother’s thumb, not to mention he had gone through twice his supply of inhalers with the crushing weight of anxieties his mother gave him. He thought of Richie and Y/n the most. He missed Richie’s teasing and crude humor no matter how crass and disgusting it was. And he longed for the times Y/n would bring out a specific blush in his cheeks when she called him 'shrimp’, or the simple sound of her laughter.

    He knew how sappy he sounded, and a part of him hated himself for it, but it was true. He could picture them now, riffing on one another while still managing to rag on him.

    He hoped they were.

+++

REGISTER TO VOTE IN FIVE MINUTES OR LESS [HERE]

SIGN A PETITION TO BAN THE USE OF RUBBER BULLETS

UNICORN RIOT

“A decentralized, educational 501(c)(3) non-profit media organization of artists and journalists dedicated to exposing root causes of dynamic social and environmental issues through amplifying stories and exploring sustainable alternatives in today’s globalized world.”

×××

Tag List: @seasidecrowbar  @supernovavisionary @readyforitbitch  @geniedocroe @sivords  @ravenclawsprincess @pigwidgexn @kricketwritesstories @spider-boyparker ​  @plum-duels ​ @edmunds-torch ​ @prezy-wez ​ @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @awkwardbullfrog @bibliophilesquared @ongaku-ato-kakikomi ​ @cocastyle @peachysinnermon ​ @cloudymotel ​ @captainshazamerica ​ @kaitlynjones12 ​ @songbird-writes ​ @traceylader @eggytozier @annimalq @lexylovesfandoms @russian-romanova @paigey-mcfreedomly  @whitetrash12345  @witch-of-all-things-soft  @thatsjoemazzellosbbg @blogforhoes ​ @darkcrystal-wolf @astrobre

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! ❥

[soulwillower]

detention • bill denbrough

requested bill x reader : )

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, i think some sexual themes, and georgie denbrough: wingman of the century

this is like 3.5k god

[losers + reader are 17 in this]

♡

as you lean forward on your arms and suppress a groan, you silently wish you could be anywhere else right now. you're stuck sitting in detention, the white room empty except for the teacher lounging up front and two other students. you're staring at the clock, willing for it to hurry up and hit 4:30 so you can leave already. it's only 3:16. you groan quietly, wishing you'd never been caught scribbling graffiti in the bathroom.

you start to itch because you can basically feel eyes burning holes into the back of your head and you know it's from bill denbrough because the only other student in detention was bill's friend beverly marsh, who was dead-asleep in her seat next to bill.

you fucking loathed bill denbrough, although you didn't talk to him almost ever. you're not totally sure why, maybe it's his stupid confidence, his loud friend group (although they're all pretty nice), the fact that he's captain of the baseball team, or just because of the way he treats you. frankly, everybody that you know loves him, and that alone gives you enough motivation to resent him.

you'd met him freshman year in your shared algebra class and you'd thought he was really cute, until you heard him open his mouth. it was long ago enough that you don't remember what he'd said, but he'd made an offhand comment about you that had embarrassed you in front of the whole class. even though you can't remember what he'd said, you remember how you felt and his stupid fucking smirk and you're still very bitter.

so, you throw him glares whenever you see him - in the halls, at football games, and especially at parties after you've had a few too many fireball shots. you even stopped going to the pool where he works as a lifeguard during the summers. you don't feel bad when you say rude things to or about him because it's not like bill has ever treated you with an ounce of respect.

bev letting out a soft snore makes you snap out of your thoughts. she was actually pretty great - you'd shared a smoke with her and richie tozier a few times, so if she were awake you might've talked with her. but she's out cold, so your only options are talking to bill, trying to talk to the teacher who's name you didn't even know, or staying silent and waiting until you could leave.

looks like you're going mute until 4:30.

suddenly you feel something light hit your shoulder and you look down to see a wadded gum wrapper. you roll your eyes but don't say anything, even when you hear a soft snicker and feel another soft thud.

"alright, i gotta go use the john. i'll be right back, so don't try to pull anything fast on me." the teacher announces a few minutes later, dropping his book onto the desk loud enough to jolt beverly awake. you snort when you see her wipe her mouth with the corner of her sleeve. "and you can talk to each other, you know. this isn't breakfast club." the teacher says with a smile that makes you want to punch him.

as soon as the teacher's gone, beverly's up on her feet, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. "right, well this is kind of my window of opportunity. i'm gonna dip, later billy. bye, y/n." she says, saluting the both of you before walking straight out of the room.

your jaw drops. "can she do that?" you ask in bewilderment as the door closes. you don't even care that it's bill you're speaking to.

you hear bill laugh, "we c-can do a-anything. it's called confidence. but i guess y-you wouldn't kn-know." he taunts, his voice snarky. you roll your eyes, "well i don't see you walking out with her." you mumble, leaning back in your chair but refusing to turn around and look at him. you'd probably hit him if you had to see that stupid fucking smirk. or those green fucking eyes. or those fucking muscles.  

"well if i left now, i'd b-be robbed of some q-quality time with such p-pleasant company." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. god, you loathed him.  

"shut the fuck up, bill. you're such a dick." you spit out, mumbling the last part as you glare at the door, wishing the teacher would come back soon.

"r-right. i forgot you were so s-sensitive." he snarks. you roll your eyes. he's such a prick. "well you're a douchebag. you're so fucking immature! who throws wrappers? this isn't third fucking grade." you spit, spinning fully in your chair to face him.

his feet are kicked up on the desk in front of him, his green hoodie bringing out his eyes. holy shit. your throat goes momentarily dry. you resent him so much but shit, he is so fucking hot.  

"that was bev, not me." he says casually, a smirk playing on his lips. you pretend not to notice his dimple or his hair, glinting under the ugly fluorescent lights. "she was asleep!" you hiss in utter disbelief that he would try such a blatant lie. he just laughs with a shrug, his mouth opening to retort, but the door opens and the teacher comes back in.

you spin back around, looking to the teacher as he frowns, "where's marsh?" he asks, becoming increasingly angrier. "who, sir?" bill pipes up. you can practically hear his smirk. "it's a-always just been us."

the man frowns, glaring at the two of you. "don't move." he says, pointing at bill and you before turning on his heel to leave again, storming off to try and find bev. you blink, "well that was a freebie."

you hear bill snort. "he's never going to f-find her."

you nod, smiling a bit. "yeah, no way. he's probably going to give up soon. teachers always get tired of this shit."

"well they're not paid enough." bill says and you hear him moving behind you. your eyebrows raise, shocked that he'd say something so... sensible. you kind of just assumed he was a meat head who only cared about himself. bill stands, walking over to where you sit on top of your desk. he leans against the one across the aisle from you.

"that's true. maybe i should leave, just to get out of his hair." you joke. he snorts, running a hand through his hair.

"i m-mean, i'm sure he's g-going to be gone until f-four thirty. he p-probably wouldn't even n-notice." bill plays along. you try not to let yourself fall into what you assume is some dumb trap - but you find yourself liking talking to him. he's still fucking annoying, though. "knowing y-you, you'd probably s-snitch, though." he says with a grin.

you glare at him, "that was one time, two years ago. get over yourself." you spit, a teasing lilt to your voice. he rolls his eyes. "s-says you, y/l/n."

you scowl again as he smirks. "and what's that supposed to mean?" you asks, your lips slightly curling and your attitude giving way to his teasing glance. he just shrugs, "n-nevermind. you know, b-besides the chronic s-sarcasm, st-stubborness, selfishness, and p-pessimism, you're not bad, y/n." he says, looking at you with inquisitive eyes. you snort, "gee, you really know how to make a girl swoon, bill."

he raises his eyebrows as if to prove his point and you have to look away before he catches on to your blush. "yeah, well. i'm still not too sure about you." you bite back, holding back a smile. he chuckles, his smile genuine and kind of making your stomach flutter. you almost punch yourself in the stomach for its betrayal. "what d-do i have to do to p-prove to you, y/n?" he whispers, pushing himself off the desk and taking a step towards you. you raise an eyebrow - if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was flirting. you hum, tapping your fingers on your thighs. "you can give me a ride home. i don't want to walk." you say with a lifted eyebrow. he may be annoying, but he has a car and you don't want to get caught, you figure he'll be a quick getaway. he grins, walking to grab his backpack. "l-lets go then, princess." he says sarcastically, making you flip him off, bending over to grab your bag and hide your blush.

bill's car is littered with empty energy drink cans, an empty fanny pack that he insisted wasn't his after your intense bullying, and his baseball bat bag in the back. he drives with one arm on the wheel and one on the center console, music playing quietly. it's a little awkward because every time one of you speaks, the other rolls their eyes and quips back something rude.

you're giving him directions but he doesn't really seem to be listening. suddenly he gets into the right lane and you sit up, looking at him like he's crazy. "my house is over there, bill." you say, pointing to the left as he turns right. he nods, keeping his eyes on the road, "sorry, w-we've got to m-make a quick st-stop."

you look at him incredulously. "what? i have my phone, you know. people will know how to track me if you murder me."

he laughs, the warm sun glinting his hair and making it glow more auburn than usual. "y-yeah, whatever. it w-won't take long. if its th-that bad, i'll buy you a m-milkshake." he reasons with an eye roll.

you knew he was being sarcastic, but you wanted to make him pay, literally, for wasting your time. "fine, but i'm getting a large. and i'm not joking." you say as he parks the car. "fine. w-whatever gets you to sh-shut up." he mutters. you snort in annoyance, looking out the window as he pulls up to an elementary school. what the hell? he lifts his brows, "but i th-thought you wanted to g-get away from me as q-quick as possible." he says with a smirk. you shrug. "free ice cream is free ice cream, no matter how shitty the company." you say with an innocent smile. he rolls his eyes but the teasing look in his eyes remains as he shakes his head at you. "y-you asshole."

you have to turn your head to conceal your grin.

it's silent in bill's car so you almost jump when hands slam against your window, making you squeal in surprise as you look up from your phone and your eyes meet another pair. "who are you?" the boy on the outside of the car asks, voice muffled by the window barrier. he can't be more than ten, and has sandy brown hair and a fucking adorable grin. you blink as bill rolls your window down, "g-get in the b-back, georgie." he says, the boy immediately obliging and jumping into the back with energy.

bill looks at you, his cheeks slightly pink and you try not to let yourself like him a little more now that you know that he picks his little brother up from school. kind of sweet for a boy like bill. certainly unexpected.

"who are you?" georgie asks again, staring at you with curious doe eyes. you smile awkwardly. "um, i'm y/n. w-we go to school together." you gesture to bill awkwardly.

"th-this is my brother georgie." bill explains, gesturing to the back as he pulls out of the parking spot. you nod at the obvious statement. "obviously. guess it's good to know you're not just kidnapping some kid." you mumble, making bill laugh. you grin despite yourself. georgie perks up, not having heard what you said. "what's so funny, billy? is it y/n?" he asks, pronouncing your name slightly wrong. you smile, lifting a brow at bill.

something about this car ride is making you see him in a new light - bill listens so intently to what georgie says, who in turn asks a million questions about bill's day and even yours. it's cute, their relationship.

when he pulls ups outside of what you assume is the denbrough house, bill turns back to look at his younger brother. "are you guys dating? are you going to kiss her? you should kiss her, billy!" georgie giggles, asking with genuine curiosity. you have to bite your hand to stop from screaming, feeling absolutely mortified. bill looks just as exasperated. "g-georgie, get out of the car." "but where are you going?" georgie asks. "i'm t-taking her home, g-georgie. go get st-started on your homework and i'll b-be back to help in a little." bill says with a groan, avoiding looking at you. "okay, bye billy! bye, y/n!" the boy says, completely oblivious to how awkward he'd just made it. as soon as he's gone, you look at bill. his jaw is clenched as he throws the car in reverse, speeding out of his neighborhood. it's awkward now, and you're so uncomfortable that you blurt out the first thing you can think of, "so are you still gonna get me that shake?"

bill seems to bounce back almost immediately from that awkward drive to his house, looking at you with a blinding and cocky smile. "f-fine, but don't expect me to have f-f-fun or anything." "i would never dream of it, bill." you say with a teasing smile of your own. "wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation, golden boy."

you moan, spooning a bite of your shake into your mouth. "thank you, bill. this is very much deserved, you know. i think i forgive you for kidnapping me." you tease, knowing you're being immature but kind of really liking the way he looks when you push his buttons. bill scoffs, "i sn-snuck you out of d-detention and b-bought you a shake, if that's c-considered kidnapping then y-you're lucky." you laugh softly, admiring his side profile as his car coasts down derry's main street. the sun's almost setting by now, and despite your better judgement you find yourself enjoying bill's company. "my fucking hero. you're quite a character, you know." you say sarcastically, but adding the second part softly. "y-you too, y/l/n. i-if you weren't so stubborn i th-think we'd be p-pretty close." "oh, is that so?" you ask slyly, your stomach swimming with butterflies as bill pulls up to a stoplight and looks at you, suddenly flustered. "i-i didn't mean- w-well, i j-just meant-"

you cut him off with a hand to his arm, the red from the stoplight glinting onto his face and making him look handsome in the shadows. "i'm just messing with you, bill." you say softly, "i think i was... wrong about you. for the most part."

he smirks, leaning towards you when he notices that your hand is still around his arm. you blush more at the proximity than your hand still being on him, but you pull your hand back to your lap. "so are y-you gonna c-confess that you've b-been in love with me for y-years, y/n?" he asks teasingly. you scoff, unable to help it when your eyes trail to his lips quickly. but you still roll your eyes. what a dick.

"you fucking wish." you say back, staring at him as he leans closer and for a second you think he's going to fucking kiss you but a loud honk makes you both jump.

neither of you have noticed that the light's turned green.

"fuck." bill mutters lowly, groaning. you bite your lip, trying to stop your mind from taking that noise out of context, instead staring ahead as he turns into your neighborhood. it's only a few minutes of silence until you tell him to pull over into your driveway. your milkshake was now gone and you sigh as he throws his car into park.

"thank you for the ride home. and for the shake." you say with a smile. he grins at you, shrugging as if to say it was no big deal.

"n-no problem." he mutters, staring at you. "you're not as an-nnoying as i thought. i didn't totally h-hate it." he teases, making you snort. you use your empty cup as an excuse to lean over the center console and get closer to him. he watches you with slightly hooded eyes and a smirk that kind of makes you want to slap him, but also kiss him.

"so, do you pull these moves on all the girls? have you turned georgie into your little wingman?" you tease.

he blushes as he undoes his seatbelt, prompting you to do the same. "n-not at all, oh my g-god. he's used to r-richie or eddie being in the car, s-so he p-probably a-assumed... i mean, he's... he's a kid. d-doesn't know what h-he's saying." he shrugs, stumbling through his words. you don't mind, though.

you smile, biting your lip when you notice his eyes flicker down to your mouth, "i don't know, i think he was onto something." you whisper. bill hums, boldly placing his hand on your cheek. his eyes are still trained on your lips. you flush under his touch, his hand feeling huge against you. you're extremely nervous and yet very, very excited.

"well i'd h-hate to disappoint him. o-or you, princess."

"too late. you disappoint me every day." you tease, your smile giving yourself away at his nickname. he chuckles, his thumb stroking your cheekbone slightly, "sh-shut up." he mumbles lowly.

and then he's pulling your lips to his.

you breathe in through your nose, hands immediately coming up to his shoulders as your body leans against the console, kissing him back. it's soft at first, and his lips are plush and he's squeezing your hips.

you never imagined that you'd like kissing bill denbrough, let alone that he'd be this good. you sigh quietly as he deepens the kiss, his other hand falling to your waist. one of your hands goes to the back of his neck, threading your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. his hand brushes your hair behind your ear as he kisses you passionately. he breaks the kiss slowly, your lips staying together slightly as he pulls away. he kisses you again softly and quickly before pulling all the way back.

you stare at him, a smile unable to stop itself from covering your face. you don't feel embarrassed, though, because bill's got one identical to yours. the way bill's looking at you makes you feel embarrassed; you've always treated each other unfairly but he's actually a pretty great guy. it's quiet until you hear a window slide closed up at your house, and you clear your throat.

"um, i should... i should probably go get started on homework." you say, sure that your blush is evident. he's smirking at you as you stumble awkwardly through your sentence. he hums in agreement, watching your every move. your face is on fire, but as you turn to him, opening the door to leave, you lean back in, pressing another kiss to his lips. he chases your face as you pull away, and you bite your lips as you smile at him.

"g-goodnight, y/n." he says as you shut the door. you lean slightly on the open window, looking at him. you really want to stay, but you know you have to go in. "thanks, bill. goodnight." you whisper, pulling away from the car with a shy wave, turning to go up to your front door.

"i still kind of h-hate you, but i b-better see you again sometime s-soon!" he calls as you make your way through your lawn. you smile at his words, feeling excited.

"well take me out then, denbrough!" you say, turning to walk backwards up your lawn. he's grinning at you from his car.

"f-friday! i'll pick you up at s-seven. i promise g-georgie won't be there!" he calls, ducking to maintain eye contact. you giggle, nodding, "alright, bill. i'll see you then." you say, waving and turning around to jog up the steps to your front door.

you giggle to yourself, feeling giddy as you think about the complete 180 of how you perceived bill from this morning to now. he's got you blushing like a middle schooler who just had her first kiss, and you love it.

maybe bill wasn't as bad as you thought.

[dreaminae]

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 9

"Have enough respect to stop lying to my face. What happened in Vegas this summer?" Layla finally asked, fed up with how Spencer spent the last few weeks dancing around the truth.

Spencer anxiously licked his lips, hesitating to find the right words to explain his actions up until this moment.

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

"How could you not tell me you came to Mexico?" Asher inquired angrily, "How could you pretend not to know about Vanessa when she first came to Beverly?"

Olivia raised her hands to the back of her head in a stressed motion, remaining quiet as she let Asher get his thoughts out.

"Why not confront me, instead of pretending not to care?" Asher pondered. "Why not confront me about my summer unless you have crap to feel guilty about too?"

"Ugh! Why can't we all put summer behind us!" Olivia yelled out to no one in particular.

Summer hadn't been all bad. Most of it she had no problem remembering. All the fun times she shared with Spencer and Kia. Her growth in her hobbies like art and journalism. Those were the things she wanted to focus on.

Not the ending. Because it sucked. She wanted to bury the last few weeks of summer ten feet under, never to remember them again. But she couldn't do it. No matter how many times she attempted to drink her pain away, there the remnants were.

The guilt she felt when she looked at Layla and Asher. The heart-tugging yearning Liv felt when her eyes laid on Spencer. The loneliness Olivia felt when her parents failed to see her shattering under her picture-perfect smile. But especially the disappointment that caved her insides when Liv saw herself in the mirror every day.

"Maybe because this summer meant something to me." Asher choked up. "I realized a lot of things about myself this summer."

"You mean Vanessa helped you realize..." Liv snapped jealously.

"No, I did. I did the work all on my own." Asher responded firmly. "I'm not the same guy that torpedoed my life and got kicked out of his house, Liv," Asher explained. "I don't need you to rescue me anymore. Maybe I never did."

"Is that how I make you feel?" Liv asked, hurt by the thought. "Co-dependent."

"It's not a bad thing." Asher soothed as Liv's eyes filled with tears. "You can't stand by to see the people you love in pain. You have a good heart, and you want to help whenever you can. It's one of the things I love about you." He detailed kindly, mentally recalling all the times she supported him last year.

"But?" Olivia asked, knowing that a contradiction was coming.

"But I don't think that's what I need. Not anymore." Asher concluded. "I can stand on my own, and solve my problems without needing rescuing."

"Where does that leave us?" Olivia wondered aloud, unclear where that put her in his life presently.

"We aren't the same people that we were last year." Asher recognized. "Both of us have changed since summer, and ignoring that fact is causing more hurt than anything."

"I never meant to let you down, Ash." Olivia sighed heavily.

"I see how close you and Spencer are since spending the entire summer together," Asher noted from interactions he observed this afternoon. "And you put on a good act dealing with me and Vanessa's history, we always promised to be honest with each other."

"We were friends first." Olivia cried, praying this wasn't how they ended.

"And one day we'll get back to that," Asher assured her, but still making clear they needed some space for now. "I just think we should put some distance between us for now."

"Yeah, I guess so." Liv nodded lightly, letting the tears fall, keeping her arms crossed as her first clenched tightly to oppress the pain she felt watching Asher walk away from her.

At that moment she didn't mourn her dead relationship, but rather a sadly ruined friendship.

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

"Are you listening to yourself, Spencer? Do you hear how insane you sound?" Layla asked, stunned by the revelation. "You told Olivia--my best friend-- that you love her. Then hooked up with me right after." Layla repeated, trying to wrap her head around how absurd his actions sounded.

"I know I've made a mess, but I didn't mean for things to play out the way they did." Spencer failed to justify his actions. "I'd made a promise to wait for you, and I didn't want to let you down. I know how far you came since last year, and I didn't want to risk your recovery."

"No, you don't get to use my recovery as an excuse for not manning up, and telling me the truth." Layla shut down Spencer's chance of rationalizing leading her on all these months. "You don't get to decide what I can, and can't handle, Spencer."

"I was trying to protect you, Layla. I didn't want to hurt you." Spencer concluded.

"I didn't ask for your protection. When I brought you to Vegas it was for you to see that I was a stronger me." Layla asserted. "I trusted you to see that I could handle myself, instead of you handling me with kiddie gloves."

"I'm sorry Layla," Spencer repeated, unsure what she wanted him to say.

"Screw your sorries." Layla spat, bypassing him so she could get to her suitcases, "And screw you too, Spencer."

"Layla, don't -" Spencer started but was cut off by her once more.

"You know that night in Vegas you were so busy playing the hero," Layla sneered with a scowl. "You didn't even realize you were the one causing the most damage."

Spencer's mouth shut, unable to argue with that. Sighing, his hand released Layla's, doing what he should've done that night in Vegas. Let her go.

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

Olivia stood by the doorway, watching as Asher loading his things into Layla's car. She hadn't spoken to the other redboned brunette yet, so when Layla finally crossed Liv's path the tension rose to it's peak.

"Layla, I-" Liv's words were halted by Layla's hand raising in a pause gesture.

"I've heard enough apologies for one night." Layla huffed, exhausted from the continued runaround that was their friendship. "I will be damned if I turn myself into a female cliche fighting over a guy."

"I don't want to fight." Olivia soughed. "I never did. I thought we should talk before you leave. That's all."

"Talk about what, Olivia? How you went for another one of exes. Or how about how you let me stay with a guy you knew had feelings for you." Layla listed off, feelings there was nothing to discuss. "In the end, this isn't about Spencer or how your habit of picking up my leftovers. This is about your lack of loyalty, and the truth is you suck as a friend." Layla trashed her former best comrade.

Despite the fact, Olivia knew she and Spencer were in the wrong, she refused to be Layla's emotional punching bag. "What did you want to say, Layla?" Liv quarreled right back. "Huh? Do you wish I would've to Coop's concert that night, found you and been and dropped the bombshell. Great job on the show, and by the way Spencer's no longer has feelings for you because we've fallen for each other."

"Liv, don't -" She heard her brother try to broker peace before things got out hand.

"No, Jordan. I want to know how Layla would've preferred to hear the truth." Olivia dug deeper. "How about over coffee, right. Or walking down the school hallway our first week back. Heads up Layla, your boyfriend loves me not you." Liv laughed coldly. "Would any of those ways have eased your pain, Layla? Because from where I stand all this crap hurts all the same. Whether it be now or Vegas."

"Whatever, Liv." Layla groaning.

"No, you want to call me a bad friend. Let's list all the ways I'm a bad friend." Olivia demanded. "When Spencer first arrived at Beverly you knew I had feelings for him, yet you still went for him. While you were with Asher, might I add? But I put my feelings aside for kept my mouth shut. When you were battle your depression last year, I was one of the first people to help. Even though, after my overdose and me attending rehab, you admitted you hadn't realized my addiction was that serious. And let's not forget our latest conflict. You're going to trash me as a bad friend for not ruining your relationship with Spencer when I honestly thought you two were happy. " Olivia rambled on, finally getting everything off her chest.

"You should've told me the truth," Layla repeated, less coldly than before.

"And you should stop pretending like you never made a mistake before." Olivia immediately responded. "I didn't keep what happened between Spencer and me a secret to hide it like a dirty secret. I did it because you were happy, and I didn't think it mattered anymore."

"That doesn't even make any sense." Layla groaned, unsure what Olivia meant by her last remark. "Why wouldn't it matter that Spencer told you he loved you?"

"Because he went back to you less than two hours afterward." Olivia finally confessed to knowing the not-so-secret hookup. "After Spencer told me how he felt, I rejected him. He called me and asked me not to leave things unsettled. I went to his room to talk, and I saw the two of you." Liv recalled that painful night. "Spencer made a choice - again. And it was you, not me. Again. So I left." Liv wept, refusing to meet Spencer's eyes as she felt his eyes burning into the back of her head.

Layla wiped her own tears, pitying that both of them were tearing their selves apart for a guy who didn't even seem to know who he wanted.

"Even so," Layla finalized. "Too much has happened. And I know when to cut my losses. I'm not going to get in your way anymore. You can have Spencer. Because I'm done with him."

"And with me." Liv finished for Layla, knowing that too much damage had been done to go back.

Layla nodded before grabbing her suitcase once more and marching to her car. She and Asher pulled off not too soon after, followed by J.J accompanied by Vanessa.

Once both cars were out of the view range, Olivia turned to go inside, unsurprised to find Spencer glancing at her with a timid expression.

"You knew." Was all he could work up.

"I knew," Liv muttered coldly, acknowledging the real reason why she hadn't gone back to that night in Vegas. "How could you?"

Spencer's face fell as Olivia conveyed her heartbreak for the first time since Vegas, her eyes glistening over as she shoved past Spencer.

Simone sighed, following Olivia inside to give her a supporting shoulder. Jordan gazed at Spencer with indifference, wondering how his best bud let things get so far out of hand.

[tjlikesprettythings]

Joshua Tree Playlist-A Macriley Fic

So I’ve done it again, not sure what’s wrong with me or where this came from but enjoy my obsession. Thanks for the motivation and support from my other posts. I’m still waiting for my invite from Ao3 but wanted to share this monster with you guys. 

This fic was inspired by music that I thought fit the general tone of this story, so I decided to make a spotify playlist linked Joshua Tree Playlist hence the name. Now of course you guys don’t have to listen to it, I know we all have different preferences, but I would recommend listening to the last song by Dylan Schneider “Wannabe” so you get the full context of what I was trying to write. I also mention the songs that I recommend listening to. Well anyways Enjoy and do let me know what you think!

This is very long, just a heads up! Please let me know if I should continue writing. 

Joshua Tree Playlist

Chapter 1: Day 1

Mac sat on the deck after his run, another sleepless night. The nightmares felt more and more real each day. Looking out on the early morning LA skyline he felt like a stranger in his own life. There was so much anger in him that he didn’t know what to do with himself. The loss, the tragedy that was his life felt like a weight he couldn’t bear. He’d give anything to go back to that pressure chamber in Georgia again instead of this, at least things made sense then. He was spiralling, he was aware. Scrubbing his hands across his face he let another breath pass. He didn’t hear her coming but saw her shapely bronze legs standing in front of him dressed in khaki shorts and a black singlet one hand holding a backpack and the other on her hip. It was definitely early for her to be up, especially on an off day. 

He raised an eyebrow at her, “what’s up Riles?” 

“Get up, we’re going on a trip.” She simply said swinging the backpack at his feet. 

“What?” he was confused by the situation unfolding in front of him, maybe he was dreaming? 

She turned to walk back into the house, “You heard me Macgyver, get your ass in the car in 5!”

He stood up and swiped the backpack off the floor and chased after her. She was already in the truck sunglasses pulled down with her arm out of the window, fingers drumming against the door. “Riley.”

She nodded her head in the direction of the car, “come on, we haven’t got all day! Get in!”

He could have stood his ground but honestly, he was too tired to argue with her. So he threw his backpack in the back and got into the passenger seat. She started the car and connect her phone to the Bluetooth, a playlist called Joshua Tree Playlist that was curated by Riley Davis came on the on-screen deck. He discovered that Riley didn’t just listen to Beyonce, old school rap, and rock. Her music like her was multifaceted and ranged from what you’d expect to complete surprises. He even walked in on her listening to Harry Styles to which she had just shrugged and simply said “I’m confident in myself to like what I like, besides watermelon sugar is a tune.” But currently, she quickly scrolled and threw on Mumm-ra’s “Summer” the indie rock song had a classic indie bass and guitar combo as the intro, she shimmed her shoulders to the music. He couldn’t help but actually crack a smile at her antics. 

Her head turned to him then as she bopped to the music and gave him that brilliant smile lipping the words to the song “I’m only happy in the summer...I’m only happy with you, lover...” She was like a prism, all clear but as soon the light hit her she was vibrant colors and sounds. “Now that’s more like the Mac I know. Nice to have you back for a second.” 

Her words hit him fully, leave it to Riley to bring him back down to earth. To notice that he was struggling. He didn’t know what to say, so he opted for the next best thing. “Are you going to tell me where this semi-voluntary kidnapping is going?”

“Hey, no kidnapping vibes here. We’re taking a couple of days and chilling out. Matty already approved it. We have four days to ourselves. So we’re going on a road trip! Next stop Joshua Tree.” She simply stated as she drove down the hill and towards I-10E.

He widened his eyes and gave his head a shake, letting loose a chuckle he threw up his hand and let them slap his highs. “Ok! I’ll bite.” the brilliance of her smile made him feel like he made the right choice, the breeze already warm blew in through the open windows, the loose strands from her bun floating around her face. 

“Yea! Bozer is going to meet up with us there, he has an errand to run before. Unfortunately, Desi can’t make it, she’s on a mission.” she said sparing him a glance.

He shifted in his seat if he were honest, he was now just looking forward to spending time with her and Boz. “Yea, probably for the best.”

She didn’t say anything waiting for him to continue if he wanted to. The great thing about Riley was she pushed when there was something worth pushing for but otherwise gave him space to talk to her on his own time. Without saying it, he could feel her body asking him if he and Desi were ok.

“I’m not sure I’m what she needs right now.” He simply stated and the unstated that he probably didn’t need their complicated and messy relationship right now either. They were too volatile and while that gave spark to great sex, it left everything else scorched and untouchable. It wasn’t fair for Desi to be stuck with him while he was stuck in his head.

He watched Riley shift in her seat, lately, he noticed there was a strange distance between them but then here she was stealing him away as the old Riley would. Maybe four days would give him the answers to why he felt like she was slipping away slowly, the thought put such a tight feeling in his throat, he couldn’t lose one more person. Especially not Riley, not his amazing, smart, loyal, beautiful friend singing along to a cover of Billy Joel’s “Vienna”. Suddenly it was easy to smile again, it didn’t take all of his efforts. “Hey, did you pack my bag for me? Or am I gonna have to survive in these running clothes for four days?”

He didn’t think to change when she gave him 5 minutes to meet her at his truck.

“I got you, Mac, everything you need is in there boy! Why would I give you an empty backpack?” she tapped on with the music and threw him another smile. If the next few days were going to be filled with smiling Riley he was already glad she kidnapped him voluntarily.

“Did you go through my underwear and sock drawers?!” He asked narrowing his eyes and laughing as a soft blush spread across her cheeks, Riley Davis can be bashful what do you know. 

“I mean we’re all adults here, no need for this juvenile behaviour. Yes, I packed your undies and socks.” He could see her rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses, but he was amused by the blush that graced her face. Mac always thought Riley was attractive, men and women constantly commented on her beauty. Her looks helped them with countless ops. He wasn’t blind, just looked past the obvious. She was his friend, Jack’s daughter, and a relationship he couldn’t sacrifice. But these moments when they’re alone and he could look at her and steal glances he saw just how gorgeous she was as a being. 

They had become closer the past couple of years for sure, he felt completely at ease with her. Could talk to her about anything, seek her counsel about things that were on his mind. She usually could read him already ready to jump into whatever stupid situations he got himself into. Even now he couldn’t believe that she followed him into Codex. She had told him she trusted him, and he felt like he could breathe just from those words. Knowing she stood with him gave him the strength to follow through. 

They stopped for coffee and bagels, laughing about the guy in front of them that took ages to order. They made fun of a couple of housewives of Beverly hills type and how Bozer would’ve recognized who they are. It was just easy his mind kept saying to him. When he pointed to a smidge of cream cheese in the corner of her mouth, she attempted to licked it away with her tongue, he couldn’t help but gulp down some of his iced coffee and watch her miss it. Reaching over he brushed the side of her lips and without thinking licked his thumb clean. She froze for a second and looked at him with an intensity that he couldn’t read. “You were struggling” he shrugged. 

“Thanks,” was all she said with an almost shy smile, unaware of course of how that small act sent fire all over her. She was thankful that she was on her last bite and he was already finished with his bagel, now casually leaning back in his chair letting the sun warm his face, his golden hair casting a halo around him. She needed to run away, “ready to start the journey again?”

Smiling he stood, they took their unfinished coffee and bottles of water with them. For the next 15 minutes, they joked about the new episodes of Rick and Morty, as more of her playlist played in the background, glancing at the screen he saw the current song was “Good Life” by Randell Kent. The lyrics washing over him as they finally pulled into the expressway. This could be a good life, at least it felt that way right now. 

They passed the next 15 minutes in silence, but it was the kind they had often where it was just comfortable. They didn’t feel the need to fill the void. They just listened to music and watched the road and let their minds wander.

She hummed along with the new song that came on, he never noticed that she had a pretty nice singing voice. “...don’t overthink it...just surround me...hmm” LÉON's "Surround Me" played in the car. He leaned against his window and watched her quietly.  “Why don’t you take a nap, I know you didn’t sleep much last night. We’ve got another 2-hour drive ahead of us.” She finally says to him softly turning the music down a bit and rolling up the windows opting for the ac.

Of course, she noticed, it wasn’t a big secret that he had been spiralling out of control. He wasn’t sleeping or eating well, his mind obsessing over Codex. But now there was nothing but a jumbled mess of things and just pure grief and exhaustion left behind in the aftermath. Strangely enough, he actually felt ok enough to take her up on the offer, she made him feel safe. Knowing she was going to be here when he opened his eyes brought a feeling of comfort and peace he was struggling to have, it was like the darkness couldn’t get to him. “Yeah ok.”

He drifted and for the first time in a long time found sleep came quickly and a dreamless sleep took him over. No nightmares, just soft hum engulfed him. It was when he felt warm fingers on his cheek brushing back some hair did he open his eyes and came face to face with Riley’s hazel eyes and full lips. He blinked a few times to adjust to the light. “Hey,” she said softly. 

“Hey, are we here already?” He asked sitting up, it didn’t escape his mind that he didn’t mind that Riley was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, it never did but he filed it away with any other thoughts that ever came into his mind about her that seemed more than friendly behaviour. 

She stepped away from him and cleared her throat and nodded, “yea, we’re here. I’m glad you got some sleep” she smiled again. She was entranced with watching him sleep, she almost didn’t want to wake him, he was beautiful, soft and so vulnerable in this moment. She knew how much he was struggling, which made her predicament even more complicated. How could she tell him she would be moving out? Instead, her brilliant idea was to steal him away for a few days. She was playing with fire, but she also knew that as strong as he was, any more change might send him over the edge. She decided she’ll tell him about her move after this trip, but her priority will always be to protect him, her heart can deal with it. 

His own faced turned up, “yeah I guess I needed it, and who knew what I needed was you humming off-key to songs in the background to fall asleep.” She swallowed and told her heart to stop its stupid summersaults. 

“I’ll make you some tracks and make sure they’re extra off-key! I’ll be your white noise” she said quickly teasing back. 

“My very own ghost.” his eyes crinkling in the corners. This was the most she’s seen him smile in a while. 

Rolling her eyes and doing a mock laugh “careful or I will haunt your ass for real” to which she got full dimples, this was going to be four long days.

“Ok so I got us a house actually” she cheekily said pointing at the well-maintained terra cotta colored house they were parked in front of on top of a hill surrounded by sky and desert landscapes with cacti and boulders, the house faced the road below that brought them into town. The front porch had a couple of lounge chairs, a table for four, a couple of lanterns neatly hung around the arches and a small pathway that led to a circular covering what he deduced was the hot tub. There were shrubs and succulents neatly planted around the house giving some green to the otherwise very warm hue of the area. 

Mac looked around and already his head felt lighter under the sky that just seemed bluer here, probably because the air pollution was nonexistent here. He sheepishly said, “I kinda thought we’d be camping,” rubbing the back of his neck, “but the house looks nice.”

“Listen, we can camp I bought everything, but we can also stay in this awesome house with a hot tub, pool, and functioning toilets and showers.” she shrugged tucking her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. “What can I say, I’m a city gal and honestly we do ‘camp’ a lot for work.”

He shook his head lightly, “yeah I guess you got a point there,” thinking of all of the times they did camp out without any real equipments. “You thought of everything huh?” He asked softly taking her in fully. “Thanks, Riles.” watching her smile and nod made his heart feel warm, a feeling he’s been missing for a while.

As if on cue Bozer pulled up behind them. Riley’s smiled widen. Mac turned towards the car and he thought he was seeing a ghost. Then he heard the familiar sound of a Texan drawl. He turned to Riley wide-eyed and then back at where Bozer stepped out of the car with a shit-eating grin and next to him was none other than Jack Dalton. 

“How’s it going hoss!” He waved with a laugh as he approached Mac and took his hand and pulled him into a hug.

“Jack! Man, it’s so good to see you.” Mac said hugging the older man hard, he felt his eyes water just a bit.

Jack pat his back and pulled away smiling, “it’s good to see you too, kid.”

“Yeah, the OG gang is back together” Bozer claimed jumping with excitement.  

Jack turned to Riley and embraced her, “Hey baby girl!” Pulling her off the ground as she shrieked with laughter. Riley held onto Jack for a moment longer before releasing him and smiling, she didn’t hide the tears that were softly rolling down her face now. 

“I’m so glad to have you back.” She said softly. Jack brushed away tears from her cheek and nodded. 

“Me too.” he turned to look at his crew and smiled at the kids that somehow came to mean the world to him. “So we ready for this crazy weekend or what?!” his arm still around Riley. 

“Hell yeah!” exclaimed Bozer already heading to the trunk of his car to grab his and Jack’s bags. 

Mac just stood dumbfounded for a second taking in the 3 most important people in his life and finally feeling something, he’s been so scared that something in him was shifting but seeing them here smiling at him brought back the warmth he felt has been slowly seeping away. “Thank you, guys.”

“Come on man, we’re family,” Bozer said squeezing his shoulder. 

“You always got us,” Jack added a giant grin. “Alright now, let’s get settled and decide what we’re doing. I’m craving a cold one for sure!” He said picking up his bag.

Riley on cue walked over to the door and pressed in the security code into the door handle and opened up the door. “Welcome to the digs boys, we’ve got the living room” pointing to the right, “the master bedroom just past there as well as the second bedroom. Just ahead is the dining room and kitchen, around the hall to the left we have the other two bedrooms and bathroom. Laundry room and back porch with the grill AND pool. You saw the fire pit and hot tub in the front of the house.” she said sweeping both her arms around the house that was meant to be their home for the next four days. 

“Damn Riley! You did good!” Bozer said as he scanned the house, decorated with a mix of modern and country house feel. Walking over to the kitchen he hummed in approval, “I can work with this! I’m gonna grab the groceries!” he bounced back out the door. 

Jack gave a whistle of approval, “man, after the places I’ve been sleeping in, I’m gonna sleep like a baby!” as he went around ducking into rooms and giving his approval.

Mac didn’t care much about the house but did agree it was a nice one with all the comforts of home. 

Riley suddenly stood in front of him and gave him a warning “Macgyver don’t use any part of this house, I would like to get my deposit back.” He laughed holding up both hands in agreement. 

Jack turned the attention back to the group, “ok kids whose taking what room?”

“Riley should have the master,” Mac said right away. Jack did jokingly protest that he’s the one who’s been sleeping on rubbles and jungle floors. Bozer bounced into one of the bedrooms to the right, jack decided to take the bedroom next to Bozer. Which left him and Riley to the right side of the house. “Masters all yours.”

She smiled, “umm you sure you don’t want it?” to which he shook his head, all of the bedrooms where sizeable with queen beds and dressers, it honestly didn’t matter and being the only girl they didn’t mind giving her the room with space and vanity table so she can paint her face as jack put it to which she rolled her eyes. “So there is the bathroom down the hall next to the other bedrooms but one here on our side the bathroom is actually in the master, so feel free to use it if you need it. The shower in there looks amazing!” She said nervously.

He smiled “yea ok.” He helped her unpack the car and bring her bag into her bedroom. He looked around “maybe I should take this room,” which earned him a light shove at his shoulder and he chuckled. 

“Too late it’s mine now. Ok! So I say we get changed grab some lunch and chill for a bit while we plan the next few days.” She laid out the plans looking up at him both hands on her hips and she stretched forward towards him. That familiar hammering came back in her chest, the next thing she knows he’s embracing her. “Mac…”

He just needed to be close to her just for a second, releasing her from the embrace he softly said, “I just...I know I said thank you, but really, thank you.”

She held onto his biceps and squeezed them, ignoring the way that made her feel she just smiled at him “hey what are friends for if not to kinda kidnap you for a mini-vacation.” He laughed and she decided that was her favorite sound. Letting her hands fall to her side, “go get settled, I’m sure Boz will make us something to eat, I’m starving.”

He smiled once more and left her standing in the middle of her room feeling so many things. The next four days were going to be the hardest four days of her life she reminded herself again. She survived two years in prison, she’ll be fine, she hoped. Taking a deep breath she walked into the kitchen where she could already hear Jack and Bozer. 

Bozer was laying out sandwich meats and cheese he had picked up while swatting Jack’s hands away from stealing slices of the cold cuts. She felt a bit emotional seeing them goofing around, something about Jack being home made her feel like everything was going to be ok, that Mac would be ok and she would have the strength to get over what was currently happening to her in regards to Mac.

“Some things never change.” She heard Mac say softly now changed into a pair of trousers t-shirt and button-down. “Thanks for the clothes you picked out, I don’t think I could have picked better.”

Again she felt her face warm, what the hell was wrong with her. She couldn’t recall a time that she felt this affected. Usually, with guys she had found attractive, it was always coyness and subtle flirting but never did something so simple trigger this kind of response. She chalked it up to the heat even though the state of the art thermostat read a cool 70°. “Yea, of course, you’re welcome. And I’m glad that some things don’t change.”

Mac looked down at her, he agreed but maybe some things changing wouldn’t be too bad. Pulling up the chair at the kitchen island, they took the beers Jack handed them one by one raising his bottle “it’s good to be home, cheer!” They all clinked the bottles together and shouted cheers. Jack took a long swig off his beer, “Damn that’s good.” 

Mac couldn’t help but feel like he was transported back to a couple of years ago when things were simple and good. They saved lives and had fun. Everything seemed so much heavier and complicated these days. But right now at this moment, he felt the most present he’s felt in a year. 

“What are we having Boz, I’m starving!” Riley whined softly. 

“Girl I got you covered. I’m making a medley of sandwiches, you got a Cuban, prosciutto and mozzarella with balsamic vinegar and basil, and a BLT coming at you with my homemade mayo,” he said already working on prepping the bread with condiments. 

“Damn Bozer, have I missed your cooking!” said Jack with an excited glint in his eyes. 

“So I was thinking we take it easy for today don’t know about you guys but I could take a dip in that pool, we’ll start early morning for the hikes, if we want to camp tomorrow night we can, day 3 and 4 are open for whatever you guys want to do. We need to be back in LA by noon on monday.” Riley laid out the plans.

“Pool party, I’m in,” Jack said nodded seriously. 

“Me too! I can’t remember the last time I just had a day to do whatever I wanted.” Bozer said thoughtfully while working on their lunch.

“Yea, it’s been a lot going on hasn’t it.” He said picking at the beer bottle label. The room fell into silence for a moment, each reviewing the events of the past year if not longer. They lost so much as a collective but Mac and the most. 

Jack took another sip finishing off his beer and shook his head, “Nah, we’re here to have fun, let’s focus on that.” grabbing one of the pickles that Boze laid out, Bozer gave him a side-eye but said nothing. “This weekend we’re gonna unwind and be thankful for this beautifully weird place. Nothing is blowing up, no one is shooting at us, the worst thing will be the hangovers and food comas,”

Riley and Bozer both collectively knocked on the wood of the kitchen island, “don’t jinx it!”

To which Mac proceeded to explain that ‘jinx’ wasn’t a scientifically proven, and went into a ramble about logic. It wasn’t until he noticed all three of his friends smiling affectionately at him that he stopped dropped him head mouth curving into a smile. He knocked on the wood too just in case.

                                                         II

Twenty minutes later Bozer served them his masterpieces as he called them, and they all agreed that they were works of art. Jack had caught them up as much as he could on his mission with the deltas and catching Kovac, leaving the classified information out. It seems so natural that they wouldn’t give details, that they understood that somethings they could never talk about again. 

Finishing off his third sandwich Jack stood to plug his phone to charge “can you believe this phone lasted me almost 2 years?!” 

To which Mac rolled his eyes but his mouth still twitched upwards. “I can’t help that a phone has key components for most builds.”

“Yeah you left and it became either me or Riley. I feel like it was mostly me though.” Bozer said pouting. 

“Appreciate you picking up the slack, I already upgraded my insurance just in case.” Jack pointed at Mac. To which Boze and Riley hollered. 

Mac held up his hand and shook his head, “hey man I promise if I don’t need it, I won’t ask for it.” 

“Alright, Alright let’s get to the pool!” Jack said already pulling his shirt over his head. “Riley throw on some tunes, preferably something country or rock or close to my generation that we can all enjoy.”

It was Riley’s turn to roll her eyes, “don’t worry old man, I got us all covered. A bit of Brooks and Dunn, a bit of Ozzy,  a bit of Technotronic, a little Beyonce, and of course Drake for Bozer.”

Mac’s face squinted into lines. “Wait is Techtronic for me? Or is Beyonce for me?”

She laughed, “guess you’ll just have to find out, though I do recall you know the lyrics to at least one of Techtronic’s’ song.” her own eyes squinting to tease him. “Alright, I’m gonna go change, be right back.”

“Yeah ok fair enough, but only cause it was on the radio…saved your booty,” she heard him mumble as she passed him patting his shoulder. 

The guys were already set up by the pool when she walked out. Bozer managed to find a pool floaty from where they didn’t know and mildly suspected he might have packed the one that he was currently laying on and enjoying the sun. Mac and Jack sat next to each other with their feet in the water.

“I’m sorry about your old man.” Jack finally said softly. 

Mac’s lips pulled into a line before he sighed and looked down at the beer bottle in his hand “yea, as it turns out its hard to be mad at a guy that always chose the utilitarian method. He sacrificed himself, I wish I could just be sad or just angry but how I feel is just…” he didn’t know himself.

“Hey man, I get it. I know what it’s like to lose a father. No matter who and how he was as a person, he was still your dad.” Jack said placing a hand on Mac’s shoulder and giving a light squeeze. “But you know I‘m here if you gotta sort through all the jumbled mess in your head. I’ll be your sounding board.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that” He did appreciate it, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to, let alone where to start to untangle the mess that his life became. He was brought out of his brooding when Bozer whistled loudly.

“Damnnnnn Riley!” to which Jack knocked him off his floaty, when he resurfaced drawing water away from his face he whined, “I was just paying her the compliment she deserves!”

Mac knew that Riley had an amazing body, her tight jeans and crop tops proved this countless time if not by the countless gowns and tight dresses she had to wear for ops, but they’d never seen her in a bikini in the four years of working together. He swallowed hard and pretended not to stare, but it was hard when she was all bronze and glowing, toned abs and round hips, her smile radiant even if her eyes held a teasing annoyance at the attention. It suddenly felt hotter than 89°. 

Jack knew better than to tell her to cover up, and he knew that he could trust these guys but still, he pouted about her lack of clothing. “Jack, what do you want me to wear to the pool, a potato sack?”

“No, but...never mind!” he just mumbled. 

She shook her head, but she was trying to distract herself from the fact that Mac had looked at her hard, their eyes locked for a second and she could’ve sworn she saw something there, the way his adam’s apple bobbed make her skin tingle. She decided that she’d read it as a compliment. 

The rest of the afternoon passed with a game of pool volleyball, naps here and there or reading, Riley’s playlist playing in the background. Memories being solidified to sounds, smells, and feelings. She chided them to apply sunscreen and even offered to help with their backs. 

“Riley not sure if you’re aware but I’m black,” Bozer said to her proudly.

“So? Black people burn too and are you trying to get cancer?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Deflated he shook his head no and sat down. One by the one they gave up the protests as she threw savage shade at them. She applied a boatload of sunscreen just cause they gave her a hard time and decided to snap some pictures as well for blackmail of course.

Mac was last and sat in front of her as she steeled herself and slowly applied the sunscreen to the back of his neck, the hair at his nape tickling her fingers. She worked quickly and ran her fingers between his shoulder blades down his back. She felt him tense and worked faster. As much as she enjoyed being able to touch him like this, it was also inappropriate. He didn’t know about her feelings, and she felt sleazy as if she were taking advantage of a friend. Closing the bottle cap shut, she lightly tapped his shoulders, “done, now you don’t have to be an embarrassing lobster.” She weakly cracked.

He wasn’t new to attraction, or the body’s response to the said attraction. He didn’t expect to be so affected by her fingers running down his back, her nails making a slow trail that left him imagining those nails digging into his back for a completely different reason. He cleared his throat, “thanks, wouldn’t want that.”  he managed as he looked over his shoulder. Fuck him, she was adorable as she chewed her bottom lip and nodded. Ok, maybe four days of this Riley was going to be a challenge.

                                                        II

Around later afternoon everyone decides to shower and get ready for the evening, agreeing to head into town and grabbing dinner there. They decided with the drinks they’ve had best to grab an Uber into town. The awkwardness of the poolside sunscreen still fresh as they piled into the car. It was a short ride but felt long as Riley sat squeezed between Mac and Bozer. Bozer just grinned, of course, him knowing her feeling about Mac was going to be her downfall. When they were dropped off, She felt like she had been holding her breath for hours.

“You ok?” Mac asked her to which she nodded.

“Yep, just need a drink!” His brows raised and he seconded that feeling because he definitely could use one.  

Walking around the old Pioneer town setup, Mac explained different tools and contraptions that were displayed around the old buildings from the 1800s, Jack dazzled them with stories about Texas that either made no sense or was inaccurate according to Mac, Bozer, and goggle. They decided to have dinner at Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace, where the smell of barbecue wafted through the warm evening air, They could hear the bustle of music and glasses clinking. Bozer was already rushing in to get them a table saying something about getting his hands on some ribs. Jack hollered that he has to see if this place is as good as Texas barbecue.  

Mac looked down at Riley as her eyes sparkled with excitement the earlier awkwardness finally forgotten. Even though they’ve been everywhere in the world, this place had her vibrating. “I never knew you were a fan of the country life.”

She laughed, “I don’t know, I didn’t think that I was either, but there is something about this place that just, I dunno gets me kinda hyped.”

“Hey, guys they have a table for us!” Bozer shouted over the live music and chatter. Apparently they came on open mic night and the local dentist was doing this rendition of Hank Williams’ “all my rowdy friends” and killing it. The energy was just infectious.

They sat down as Bozer rubbed his hands together, “I already know this is gonna be the bomb. I mean can you smell that hickory?!”

“Hell yea I can!” Jack chimed in.

Mac smiled at his best friends, Bozer and Jack were always bouncing off each other in any room the three of them were in, but since Riley came into the picture they’re better behaved. They listen to song after song and the cheers of the crowd as they ate. Jack approved and hummed in appreciation. 

“I’ve missed this, the good ole USA, bbq, and country blues.” 

“Every song is about beer, a truck, a woman, but man is it catchy” Bozer stood busting out his moves as he called it. 

“Jack, it makes sense you should feel right at home at this place.” She said with eyes twinkling. 

Mac took a swig of his beer and chuckled, “This whole place is Jack if he were a bar, maybe throw in some Black Sabbath and ACDC in and you have Jack.”

Jack grinned and nodded, “ok, ok, you’re not wrong. I’m totally digging this place.” His eyes finding the eyes of a pretty blonde at the bar.

“Classic...” She agreed, crinkling her nose up in that adorable way when she found something slightly distasteful, thought Mac. For a moment they took the time to acknowledge the man who became a father to them both with affection. If they ever have to thank someone for their sincerity they could claim Jack as one of the big influencers. They’re musing was broken by Bozer shouting,

“Guys come on lets dance, how often do we get to do this anymore?” Bozer ushered them onto the dance floor. He already found himself a couple of dance partners. Ph.D. in partying Bozer was out tonight. 

It was true, they didn’t do these things anymore. Things haven’t been the same for a while. It’s only been about a year and yet he felt like his whole world shifted. An avalanche of shit hit him. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jack jumped up and was already making a beeline for the woman at the bar. They could hear a vague “how you doing?”

Mac and Riley just rolled their eyes and joined Bozer on the dance floor as the new performer of the night decided to sing Shania Twain “Man, I Feel like a woman.” As soon as they joined Bozer, of course, within minutes Riley was stolen away for a dance. Mac was happy to watch her, the joy finally reaching her eyes today. Maybe they all needed this, a moment to stop and appreciate their lives. 

He liked seeing her like this, Riley was always fun to be around. But right now she was everything he thought to himself, everything about her made his heart feel full. Finishing his beer off, he decided that he wanted to be the one to dance with his friend. The more he played with the word, somehow it didn’t seem enough anymore to call her that.

“Can I steal her for this dance?” he asked not really waiting for an answer already pulling her close to him. “You good?” looking to make sure he wasn’t misreading the situation.

She looked up at him and nodded, “yeah, I’m good.” looking down at their joined hands, it was this hand-holding that started the thud in her chest in Germany, and here it was hammering away. She was so screwed. There was a part of her mind that asked her, why not? He’s not attached anymore, so why not? But she knew better, he didn’t need this right now. He didn’t need her feelings to complicate his life. Lost in her thoughts or the blues of his eyes she wasn’t sure which, she didn’t realize the music was changing as the next performer took stage and cheers were heard. 

The music changed to a slower one, something about it just seemed fitting and he’d watched her dance all night with other people but now it was his turn. He stepped up closer to her, her eyes on him as he took her hand and swayed with her. She laughed softly as they danced to a soft country song about a man who wanted to be a girl’s everything. How ironic.

“If you wanna be with a guy who's gonna bring you flowers A guy who's gonna talk on your phone for hours A guy who's gonna wanna hold the door for you When you wanna walkthrough A guy who's gonna pick you up A guy who's gonna take you out and make you Wanna get a little dressed up and get a little down”

She once told him that she wouldn’t mind a small town, the quiet, after all things they saw daily. He wondered if secretly she wanted to be one of those ‘girl next door’ country girl. He felt her warmth through the shirt she wore, his finger brushing the soft exposed skin of her midriff. It was like an electrical current ran through him, which was of course plausible and probably didn’t mean anything.

“I wanna be the guy with the roses Number on speed dial, ladies first, don't you know that's my style Hop into my truck I got plans We’ll head on down to Jimmy's and we'll do a little dance There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if its by your side for the rest of my life Baby, you can call me, a wannabe (a wannabe) Be be a wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be Be”

She knew how dangerous this was getting, but she couldn’t help herself just for this one song. Couldn’t help giggling when he spun her around and pulled her close. Couldn’t help but let her stupid heart thud at his deep laughter. Where she could touch him for a little while without question, without worry. She can feel the hair at the nape of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him because they were just dancing. This stolen moment getting filed away as one of the best nights she’s had to date. 

“If you wanna be with a guy whose gonna give you The whole world from the back of a dirt road farm Scribbled in ink with a big heart a tattoo on my arm I'm talkin' kissin' like crazy, can't shut it down Can't you see how I wanna be the guy that you’re out with Arm that's your names on”

With every sway, he felt like he was taking a step towards where he should be. The person he should be and wanted to be. The doubt that has been clouding over him slowly clearing a little. He felt like he could finally see the light shining through. If someone like Riley could stand next to him as the world ended then life couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? So for now at this moment, he pulls her closer, lets her scent make him dizzy. Lets his hand splay across the small of her back to let each finger feel her.

“Be the lips baby that you wanna put your lips on All-day, all night, moonshine, sunrise, your favorite song There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if it’s by your side for the rest of my life, baby you can call me A wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be be a wannabe (a wannabe) Be Be”

There is a cheer from the crowd and she laughs “This song is fucking catchy,” She says as he dips her, the audible gasp vibrating through her to him. He decided then that he loved dancing with Riley. He loved her laughs, the way her whole face lit up. 

“I wanna be the guy you make a life with, picket white fence with Maybe a little later hell even make a baby with Just you and me livin' that life long dream There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if it’s by your side for the rest of my life”

He placed his forehead against hers and held her close. She glances up at him and his eyes hold hers. She’s mystified by their intensity, her body on fire from his breath fanning across her face. They were so close, he could kiss. He wanted to kiss her. As they got lost in each other, they failed to see the silly smile on Bozer’s face as he watched them or Jack who also softly chuckled from where he got distracted from wooing his lady friend Carla. If he was being honest, he can’t believe it took this long for them to get to this point. Well, he supposed he’ll have to have a chat with Mac about what he can expect if he hurts his little girl. Turning back to Carla he spared them one last glance then he was all Dalton, Jack Dalton. 

“Baby you can call me, a wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be be You can call me your wannabe (a wannabe) Be Be A wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be Be”

The crowd clapped cheered and whistled around them, he held her eyes still in a trance. Something definitely shifted between them. She cleared her throat and let him go smiling. “Thanks for the dance. That was so much fun.” Turning to make her way through the crowd to their table where a fresh bottle of beer was waiting for them courtesy of Bozer she assumed. She didn’t wait to see if he was following.

The heat from the dance coming off her now as if she had a full HIIT workout. She took a sip of the beer and before she could swallow it, he was standing next to her. 

“Riley…”

She gulped down the beer and looked at him, she was so fucked. 

[aintguiltyy]

So I was just thinking about the ask you sent me about us in the corn maze and now naturally I’m thinking of reddie in a corn maze 👁👄👁 thots? Also ps ily ❤️

first of all i love this and you sm and even though i’m the beverly to your eddie, i’m gonna pretend to be richie to self-project our corn maze date into this💜👀

————

Sonia never allowed her son to celebrate Halloween aka the Devil’s Holiday in any way, not even letting him go trick or treating with other kids because candy is bad for your teeth, Eddie bear and no son of mine is going dress up in those silly costumes to worship the Devil.

What she doesn’t know is that Richie, her son’s best friend who she’s always despised, and now also his boyfriend has been sneaking into Eddie’s room every Halloween with candy and horror films she doesn’t allow her son to watch since they were 11 years old. To be fair, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

This Halloween, however, Eddie’s had enough and when Richie suggests a few movies they could watch together, as per usual, Eddie says that he’s tired of being left out and that even though sneaking away for a party is definitely off the table, he still wants to have at least some Halloween fun.

So, he convinces Sonia to let him go to a fair and after an hour-long argument she reluctantly agrees, and Eddie is over the moon.

He’s already in a great mood when Richie picks him up and drives them to the fair where the other Losers are already waiting for them; Stan and Beverly are pumpkin picking and Ben is giving children hayrides while Bill and Mike are filling up on popcorn, apple sider and deep fried oreos.

There are people everywhere, and Eddie doesn’t even know where to begin because he wants to try everything all at once, well maybe expect the apple bobbing because no way, i’m not going to do that, that’s just nasty, Richie.

So Richie, like the great and understanding boyfriend he is, suggests going to a corn maze right on the edge of the fair. There aren’t a lot of people there, which is great because Eddie doesn’t want to be stuck in a narrow space with someone he doesn’t know, and he agrees and takes Richie’s hand before going in.

It takes ten minutes for his mood to be ruined after they realize they are lost. It seems like they are the only ones currently in the maze, and he can’t hear anything, not even the music that was blasting from the speakers all around the fair, and this fucking sucks, but Eddie takes pride in his determination and won’t let anything spoil his first Halloween fare.

“What the hell, the maze isn’t even that big?” he huffs, looking around. The walls are at least 7 feet tall, so not even Richie can see over them, but then an idea comes to Eddie and he puts away the popcorn he bought before turning to his boyfriend. “Put me on your shoulders.”

Richie, who was previously jumping to try and see over the corn to figure out where to go, stares at him with his mouth agape, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Well? Crouch down if you don’t want me to climb you like a tree,” he says impatiently, tapping his leg.

That seems to get Richie’s brain juices flowing and he grins, his mouth opening to say something, but Eddie quickly shuts him up before Richie can make a joke he knows is coming and presses on his shoulders for him to crouch down.

The moment he peaks over the wall, he regrets going here. Somehow they managed to end up in the farthest corner of the corn maze, and Eddie tries to memorize the path before Richie starts asking if he sees anything and if he can already put Eddie down because “You know I’m not complaining about your legs wrapped around my head, but you’re kind of heavy.”

Rolling his eyes and scanning the maze one last time, Eddie gets down on his feet, ignoring Richie’s fake shortness of breath, because he’s already tired of being surrounded by corn and hearing Richie whine about big, scary bugs that he claims want to climb under his clothes and eat him alive.

They take two turns left and three right before Eddie forgets where they need to go now, and frustration starts making its way into his pulsing temples. Adding to that, Richie can’t shut up about wanting to go to Mike and Bill because apple cider is so much better than being stuck here, Eds, and he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible before he looses his mind.

Forcing himself to calm down, Eddie takes a deep breath and decides to just turn where it feels right, and after what feels like an eternity but is actually seven turns he hears distant chatter and music. Exit is still nowhere to be seen, but Eddie can feel civilization so close, and it seems like the wall in front of him is the one separating them from freedom. Who cares about the rules, anyway? It’s not like he’ll go to jail for cheating at a corn maze.

So, he closes his eyes and mentally prepares himself before just forcing his way right through the corn wall. The first breath of fresh air finally pushes the weight off his shoulders and Eddie feels his good mood coming back, but when he turns around to ask Richie if he wants to go pick a pumpkin, he sees that he’s the only one who escaped.

Can this day become even better? Maybe he should’ve listened to his mom and stayed at home after all.

Signing tiredly, Eddie weights his options. He could ask the corn maze worker for help to find Richie who is probably already somewhere else, or he could come back the same way he came out and look for his dumbass boyfriend himself. Before he can choose, though, someone calls out his name, and Eddie turns around and sees Beverly and Stan coming his way with the ripest pumpkins he’s ever seen in his life.

“Where are these from?” Eddie asks Bev when they stop in front of him, pointing at the red scratches on her forearm.

“Greta wanted to take this baby,” she slaps her pumpkin, grinning proudly. “I taught her a little lesson that you don’t always get what you want”.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Stan asks, his brows furrowing. “And wasn’t Richie with you?”

“He was, but we went into the maze and got lost. I got tired and went through the wall assuming he was following me, but turns out his attention span is even shorter than we thought,” Eddie huffs.

Beverly and Stan laugh, but suggest going back with him and helping to find Richie, and so the three of them go back in past the clueless maze worker.

It takes at least half an hour of wandering in the maze and calling out Richie’s name to find him right around the corner from the exit, sitting on the ground surrounded by torn candy wrappers he sneaked into the fair.

Richie’s eyes light up when he finally notices them standing in front of him with unimpressed expressions and their hands on the hips and throws his arms in the air, whooping “My knights in shining armor finally came to rescue me!”

Stan huffs next to the grinning Beverly, mumbling “come on, I’m not missing the movie because of you, damsel in constant distress”, but all of Eddie’s irritation disappears upon looking at how happy Richie looks that someone finally found him after thirty minutes of being stuck here all by himself. He’s still siting on the ground with candy wrappers all around him and chocolate on the corner of his lips, and Eddie pulls Richie to his feet and wipes the chocolate from his face, smiling warmly before Richie leaves a brief kiss on his lips and turnes to Bev and Stan.

“Okay, let’s go, we still have time left to take a ride on Ben’s hays,” he grins, winking to Beverly, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly before heading to the corner where the exit should be.

Eddie takes Richie’s hand, already anticipating joining Mike and Bill for deep fried oreos and watching Halloween 4 that starts in the outdoor movie theater arranged at the fair in half an hour, but a second later Bev exclaims “What the fuck, where did the exit go?!” and yeah, they are lost again.

[theres-a-goldensky]

32 Reddie Fic Recs

In honor of the joy I feel in finally getting out of this miserably terrible fucking year of my life, I thought I’d do something fun and make up a list of Reddie fic recs, since this has fandom has taken over my life recently. Strap in, friends. This is gonna be a long one.

These recs are in the order in which I read them. 

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part two - Reddie

Good Omens fic

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All fics are Reddie, all are complete.

** - denotes personal favorite

1. first love / late spring by vowelinthug - ~36,000 words, explicit - They both survive It, but not without some injuries, both physical and psychological. Richie takes Eddie to a secluded cabin to help him recover. And then they accidentally make a podcast. Nice slowburn, a good Richie characterization. I liked the conversations between the two of them, in particular one about Richie’s disdain for shoes that was pitch perfect.

The doctor’s evil eye is on both of them now. “Your friend is gonna be fine. Broken collarbone and a lot of blood loss, but the arm stays on, for now anyway.” Probably at the way Richie sags in relief so hard he groans in pain, the doctor stops looking so severe. “He’s a tough guy. I’ve never seen anyone regain consciousness from that much blood loss just to give me a full medical history.”

“Oh my god,” says Richie, covering his mouth. “I like him so much.”

Bill pats his shoulder in sympathy.

2. the fireworks that go off when you smile by zach_stone - ~10,000 words, teen - Post-movie the adult Losers, including Stan, go on a vacation together. There’s just lots of Richie staring at a wet, shirtless Eddie and pining.

Richie blinks at him, his stomach doing a fucking somersault, pinned under Eddie’s weirdly passionate stare. He swallows another mouthful of beer to stall for time, shifting his gaze away. Spread out before him, the lake looks like flat, black glass. “Jeez, is the risk analyst really telling me to ignore the risks? What’s the world coming to?” he manages to joke.

He expects Eddie to roll his eyes, to huff and lean away again, but he doesn’t. He says, still earnest, “I just think some things are worth the risk.”

And Richie doesn’t know  what  the fuck to do with that. He resolutely tells himself not to puke on Ben and Beverly’s porch, because he thinks if he did it would just be the words  I love Eddie Kaspbrak a hundred times over, all puddled on the slats of wood. He stands up rather abruptly. “I should go to bed,” he says, aware that he’s talking too loud, being too fucking obvious. “I’m jetlagged as fuck. Also maybe a little drunk.”

3. oh, i want the truth to be known by ShowMeAHero - ~7000 words, explicit - Richie sees Eddie die in the deadlights and then manages to save him at the last second, but It skewers him instead. I’m honestly not sure why there isn’t more fic with this premise, because Richie sacrificing his own safety for Eddie and then Eddie losing his shit is absolutely, 100% my jam.

The claw isn’t in Eddie’s chest. Instead, it’s in Richie’s, caught in his side, pinning him to the ground. He chokes on a scream, caught in his throat, and pushes at Eddie, just trying to get them away. He rolls into him, ripping Pennywise’s claw through his side to get away, but once he’s free, he’s scrambling into a half-stumble and dragging Eddie with him until they’re hidden under an outcropping of rock. His side is bleeding, he can feel it, and his entire fucking abdomen hurts, and, for a moment, it’s all he can process.

“Holy shit, Richie,” Eddie exclaims. The pain shuffles to the back of Richie’s mind so he can focus on Eddie instead. He sounds winded, but he’s fucking alive, unhurt and breathing and okay, and Richie huffs a laugh. He’s in so much fucking pain, but he can’t even figure out where it’s all originating from, and the only thought cycling through his brain is it’s okay, he’s okay, Eddie’s okay, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, over and over.

4. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright)  by buckyjerkbarnes - ~9,000 words, teen - Richie and the other Losers in the hospital after killing It, waiting for news on Eddie. Richie has a bit of a breakdown.

The ambulance ride had been the longest twenty minutes of Richie’s life. He'd tried not to get in the way of the EMTs who worked frantically to keep Eddie alive; who were far more patient with him than Richie likely deserved. By the time they'd rolled up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, Ben stamping his breaks as the rest of the Losers came to a grinding halt not fifteen yards away, Richie was still a sobbing mess. He couldn't see through the cracked lens of his glasses, and when Eddie, who had not opened his eyes or said a word since they were still in the sewers, was about to be wheeled out of sight, Richie made like a battering ram and lunged towards the pair of swinging doors.

“Sir!" An orderly yelped. "You can’t—!"

And Stan, who had materialized at Richie's elbow, told the orderly: "He's the husband."

5. ** It’s Hard to Tell Sometimes by gallopingmelancholia - ~21,000 words, explicit - Eddie divorces his wife and moves to LA to live with Richie. Richie promptly has like five emotional meltdowns over it. So much pining. So much. This is one of very few that has Eddie in the hospital for a realistic amount of time, which I appreciate. When writers have been hoping out of bed after a day or whatever, it really throws me out of the story.

“When can we see him?” Mike asks.

“He’s asleep, but we’ll send in a nurse when he wakes up. I wouldn’t expect it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He’s been through quite a lot, eleven hours of surgery, and is on a lot of pain medication.”

“Will he survive? What’s the percentage? He’ll want to know the probability, he’s a risk analyst,” Richie says.

The doctor hesitates. “The chances he makes it through the night are 65%.”

“That’s not bad!” Richie says even as his heart drops to somewhere in the region of his feet. The others look at him pitifully. “Tell him we’re here and we love him. Tell him the Losers are here and we’ll see him soon.”

6. ** it’s a nice day to start again by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~6000 words, teen - Post-movie, Eddie wakes up one morning to discover that Richie and a woman had a shotgun wedding in Vegas the night before. Great, sad-but-trying-not-to-show-it Eddie here. (And yes, Richie is a total disaster gay who marries a woman on a whim.)

 “Are you sitting down?”

 “I didn’t even get out of bed yet! Bev please just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

 “Sorry, I’m sorry. Just- Richie got married.”

 “What? No he didn’t,” Eddie scoffs, throwing the covers off. “I’m not - he’s not even dating anybody, I see him all the time. It’s probably just a big joke or something, that’s-”

 “He got married, in Vegas. It’s all over Twitter, and he- he sent pictures to the group chat last night. She’s some other comedian. None of us have ever met her, he didn’t invite any of us.”

7. Oh, But He Makes You Laugh by MellytheHun - ~9,000 words, mature - Teenage Eddie has to deal with some serious jealousy when a new friend enters their group. This one has a good, slow realization on Eddie’s part.

The boy is in their grade, though not part of their social sphere; he’s nearly as tall as Richie, with light eyes, and walnut colored hair. Eddie recognizes him from his AP bio class, but can’t inwardly recall his name.

The boy nods toward Stanley while keeping eye-contact with Richie, and informs him, “alligators - they can grow up to twenty feet.”

Richie opens his mouth to argue with the new kid, but he’s cut off.

“Which is weird, cause they usually only grow four.”

Eddie watches in abject bewilderment as a hearty, genuine laugh  is startled out of Richie.

8. Richie Tozier: Pray Away the Gay by QueerOnTilMorning - ~4,500 words, teen - The official transcript of Richie Tozier’s comeback Netflix special. A lot of writers try to do Richie’s stand-up routine, but not many can nail it. This one feels realistic and contains actual, like, jokes and stuff.

Because I grew up in this little town called Derry, Maine--nope, absolutely not, do not cheer for that. Fuck Derry! I had this friend, for years he thought I was lactose intolerant, because he'd mention dairy and I'd be like "fuck Derry! Derry tried to fucking kill me!" No, I can eat cheese, I just hate my hometown. They did not fuck with the gays, in Derry. That's probably why I dress so shitty. It's a survival thing. I was already super into dudes. If I had developed fashion sense on top of that? No. Oh my God. It was so--I was so fucking scared all the time.

 And like, to put this in perspective, has anyone ever heard of Henry Bowers? Any true crime fans in the house? Henry Bowers, the baby serial killer? Yeah, you listened to that podcast! My friend Bill was on that podcast, doesn't he have a sexy voice? Anyway, Henry Bowers, also known very creatively as The Derry Killer, murdered a bunch of kids the summer we were thirteen. I say we, because that dude was in my fucking class. There was an active serial killer in Derry during my childhood and still, still my greatest fear was that someone would find out I was gay.

9. RICHIE TOZIER IS...THE COMEBACK CLOWN by owlinaminor & tinypersonhotel - ~11,500, teen - An excellent multimedia fic about Richie’s life with Eddie post-movie.

While Richie Tozier never stops talking, Eddie Kaspbrak never stops moving. Listening to a conversation between the two men is akin to watching a pinball machine with two balls going at once, slamming into each other and the walls and the levers and each other, lighting up their surroundings in a trance as mesmerizing as it is chaotic. (Kaspbrack laughed when I told him this metaphor—apparently Tozier spent many an afternoon at the town arcade when they were kids.)

Over the course of one twenty-minute walk with their dog, a beagle named Stanley, through their L.A. neighborhood, they manage to call off their engagement, call it back on, invite me, uninvite me, call the engagement off again, debate eloping, call the whole thing back on but disinvite everyone except me, and finally agree on what color napkins to have at the reception.

10. ** The Jenga Dream Date by stitchy - ~15,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie domestic fluff that starts at Ben and Bev’s wedding. It feels so sweet, and you can just see the happiness radiating off the screen. This is truly the ending they deserve.

Then a seriously, unbearably cute thought occurs to Richie. A thought he can’t immediately share with Eddie, because Bill and Mike each independently cornered him and made him swear not to steal Bev and Ben’s thunder.

Ah, fuck it.

“I can’t think why we would possibly be in another situation in the near future where there’s dancing but also my mother is there for some reason, but holy shit, Eds! I have got to see you dance with Mom. During this very special situation. For which I will make hand calligraphed invitations and hire a photographer and-”

Eddie’s eyes dart in either direction before he lets out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. “Uhhh, I  also have no idea when or why that would happen, or what sort of event that would be appropriate for.”

11. Bad Parts In by 50artists - ~9,000 words, not rated - It’s Richie that ends up in the hospital after it all goes down, and Eddie who has the crisis. And also some serious misapprehensions.

"I feel like Richie might be  slightly  weirded out," Eddie says dryly. "Like oh, hey, we've not spoken for decades and you're the straightest man I know, but it turns out I have been subconsciously in love with you since we were teenagers. I dunno, might make things a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry," says Beverly, "just to clarify, Richie Tozier is the straightest man you know?"

"Dude, have you seen his comedy? It's all, 'I love fucking chicks while drinking beer and watching football'."

"You mean the material that Richie doesn't write himself?'

12. ** We Found Love in a Chili’s ToGo by Amuly - ~14,000, explicit - Richie confesses his feelings to Eddie in the airport before they both headed back to their own lives. This is such a lovely story about friendship and love and putting yourself back together. And there’s some A+++ phone sex.

“Nah, Eds. It’s because I had a big gay crush and needed Stan to bitch at about it.”

Eddie frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t bitch at me about it.”

“Well bitching about your secret crush to your secret crush is generally frowned upon, Eds. Kinda fucks up the ‘secret’ part.”

Eddie, bless his tiny heart, didn’t get it for a second. His expression scrunched up, about to say something stupid back to Richie, when his brain processed Richie’s words. In a second his expression fell open, jaw actually agape.

“Oh look: drinks!” Richie grabbed his marg, licking and drinking without even letting the waitress set it down onto the tabletop. Eddie barely had the courtesy left to let her set his down before he was grabbing at it.

13. ** Ask Me About My New Material by twoseas - ~7,000 words, explicit - I could read 10,000 stories about a confused and horny Eddie jerking it to Richie’s stand up without understanding why before they meet again in Derry. This one has a great Richie, who reacts like he got hit in the face with a bat when the truth comes out.

In the restaurant, as the gong resounded around them, Eddie looked up at a four-eyed, messy, middle aged Trashmouth and suddenly it all clicked.

 He had two thoughts.

Oh, he realized, it’s because I’m in love with the dumbass.

And, Aw fuck.

14. No Parenthesis by pineapplecrushface - 13,000 words, explicit - In the deadlights, Stan gives Richie some instructions on how to bring him back. Spoilers: it involves an orgy. And Richie and Eddie dealing with their feelings.

“Okay,” Mike said, holding his hands out to placate him, and honestly Richie was really fucking sick of Mike saying crazy shit and then somehow—somehow!—convincing them to do it anyway. “I’m not saying we have to do it. I’m just saying, the ritual exists and we could do it, and now that it’s out there, I feel like you should all have the choice.”

“Great. I choose no. I’m fucking leaving before I get ritualed into giving all my money to a cult leader and I end up spending the rest of my sad short life on an alpaca farm,” Richie said, standing up too fast and stalking across the room.

“Richie,” Bev said, and she sounded, unbelievably, like she was not thinking this was completely insane.

“Are you fucking serious?” He whirled around to look at them. They were all giving him varying levels of Richie, be reasonable, which was a look he was familiar with, but not when it came to sex rituals, for some fucking reason.

15. ** Stupid Deep series by anonymous - ~50,000 words, explicit - Richie has a huge dick, and Eddie is obsessed with it. Come for the super, super hot sex, stay for the sweet romance, twist of angst and happy ending.

It’s been five months since then, and Eddie has spent at least 40% of that time thinking about Richie’s big fucking dick. He spends about 20% working from home, 20% arguing with Richie about dumb shit, and the remaining 30% sleeping—this adds up to 110%, but that’s because there’s overlap between the sleeping and the thinking about Richie’s huge dick in the form of extremely graphic dreams.

He thinks about Richie’s dick in the shower. He thinks about Richie’s dick when they’re watching TV together. He thinks about Richie’s dick when he’s trying to eat breakfast. He hasn’t even seen it hard. But god, he thinks about it. Thinks about it hot and thick in his hand, thinks about it twitching as Eddie strokes it, thinks about it stretching his lips, thinks about it leaking precum all over Eddie’s fingers and tongue and stomach. And, most importantly—most vividly—he thinks about Richie’s dick inside of him, filling him up, fucking him.

At the same time, Eddie also spent a good amount of time, woven through the rest of his daily activities, falling so deeply in love with his best-friend-cum-roommate that it was disturbing at best. There was pining. There were lingering glances. There was lying on Richie’s bed while he was out just to ease the ache in his chest with Richie’s warm, familiar scent, which is disgusting and Eddie hates to think about it. There were, in Eddie’s darkest moments, daydreams about Richie holding his hand and kissing him and telling Eddie he’s in love with him. Like a fucking sap.

16. I’m quite alright hiding today by remusjohn - ~7,000 words, explicit - Eddie kisses Richie out of the deadlights, but Richie doesn’t know if that means anything.

On the first night they don’t do much of anything. They unpack (well, Eddie unpacks his massive bags while Richie tries to figure out how to sign in to his Netflix account on the tiny TV in the living room), and they order in, and they argue over what to watch while they’re eating, and Eddie falls asleep some hours later with his head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, and Richie tries not to think too much of it.

There’s been a lot of that, the last couple of days. Richie doesn’t know how to say, You kissed me to wake me up from the deadlights and I don’t know if you did it to save my life or if there’s something else too, but it’s kind of killing me, man.

So Richie doesn’t say anything at all.

17. Haunt Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Vulcanodon - ~20,000 words, explicit - AU where Eddie and Richie are ghost hunters who get stuck in a very trippy haunted house. This concept really shouldn’t work, and I’m not big on AUs in the fandom, but the relationship between the two of them really sells it. And, obviously, the pining. There’s so much.

The only time Eddie has ever witnessed Richie freaking out was when they had been fucking about in the woods near Montana for their werewolf episode. Eddie had been walking backwards, trying to get Richie and a creepy footprint in frame when he had suddenly felt nothing but air behind him. He had fallen for an impressively long time down the hill, blacking out briefly when a branch caught his head and when he came to Richie had been leaning over him, white and frantic, hands all fisted up in Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Richie had said, nearly crying. Are you alright, can you talk?

Is my camera broken? Eddie had managed woozily to say, and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie might do something crazy like slap him or even kiss him.

He hadn’t done either in the end and Eddie remembers the disappointment, even with the haze of a mild concussion.

18. Five Times The Losers Gave Richie Permission by toomuchrootbeer -  ~11,000 words, mature - Each loser tries to let Richie know that they know in their own special way.  

“No I don’t mind,” Stan says evenly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t mind any of it.”

“Cool,” Richie chirps, grabbing his backpack off of the grass and pushing himself to his feet. “Pip pip Edward,” he calls. “Shall we endeavor to find you a cleaner wardrobe?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says back, but there is no venom behind his words.

But then Stan is reaching out, gripping Richie’s arm, “Dude what are you-”

“I don’t mind any of it, Tozier,” he repeats, voice lower and his words somehow more weighty, fixing Richie with an indecipherable look. “And I don’t think any of the other Losers would mind it either. If you wanted to,” he jerks his head in the direction of Eddie, “you know.”

19. String Theory by neverfaraway - ~17,000 words, mature - Richie starts slowly regaining his memories and has a disturbing experience in the deadlights.

The thing is, Richie knows this is a version of himself and Eddie that never existed. He can taste the pretence on the tip of his tongue, but the sticky air seems to sharpen and solidify around him. He can’t remember where he was before this moment, watching his fingers alight on the buckle of Eddie’s hundred-dollar belt.

The Voice wavers and Richie comes pouring through the cracks. It's painful to watch the careful way he places his hands on Eddie’s skin. "Fuck, I missed you," he says. "Even when I couldn't remember, I had a hole right through me, straight through the middle. You left a fucking entry and exit wound."

"Damnit, Richie," Eddie mutters, blinking rapidly. "Beep, beep."

20. hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~25,000 words, mature - Things don’t magically work out after Derry for Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he goes back to Myra and his depressig life. But at least now he has his friends. He has Richie.

With his memories back now, with all the knowledge of his mother and his placebos and his fake inhaler and his friends, it feels like Eddie has been living the last 27 years in sickly, yellow sepia tones. His memories and even the brief time he spent with everyone at the Chinese restaurant shine in his mind in vivid technicolor, and everything else pales in comparison.

He thought he would die, and now he doesn’t have a plan. His life in New York is miserable and cramped and leaves him feeling small, so he puts it off as long as he can.

The drive isn’t long, even with Eddie taking his time. He takes a detour just to drive along the coast and see the ocean, and stops at any given exit or National Forest along the way that strikes his fancy. He’s still home before nightfall.

21. After Derry series by pineapplecrushface - ~47,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie are both pining and miserable disasters post-movie. Until they finally get their shit together and figure some things out.

He woke when Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and touched his back, under his disgusting shirt. “Hey,” he said. “Your turn. I mean, your turn after I wash my hand again. What did you lie down in?”

“Your mom,” he said, sitting up and glaring at Eddie, who was half-naked, a towel wrapped around his waist. “How do you all look so good and I ended up looking like fucking Christopher Lloyd? Like, not young Christopher Lloyd. Present day.”

Eddie’s hand was still tucked under his shirt, rubbing a path across his lower back. “I guess you did grow into your looks.”

“Oh, fuck you, you weirdly muscular little shitweasel,” Richie said, escaping to the shower so he didn’t have to look at the slope of Eddie’s arms. He was weak for that, the line of a man’s shoulders and back. He was weak for all of Eddie, really. After everything he had seen, he guessed it was something he could admit to himself. There was no panic left in it.

22. for better, for worse by kaspbrak_kid - ~26,000 words, not rated - Eddie has just gotten through a messy divorce and is trying to deal with the fact that he’s been in love with Richie for 30 years, and then he has to go to Ben and Bev’s wedding. Not a great combination of things.

Eddie blows out a shaky breath and puts down his phone, then picks it back up again, restless. He scrolls up through his and Richie’s texts.

They’re not that frequent. They talk in the group chat, mostly. Eddie thinks about texting him all the time, several times a day, and then never does. It’s all just stupid shit, anyway. A dream he had or a movie he saw on TV that he remembers Richie used to like, and does he still like it? Some things his therapist tells him he should say, like that he’s been in love with Richie for somewhere between six months and thirty-odd years.

Instead, most of their private texts are just inane bickering, or Richie trying out jokes on him, or Eddie telling Richie how to clean the cut he just accidentally gave himself opening a can. He could have just googled it. But he asked Eddie.

23. feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson - ~21,000 words, teen - I’m kind of a sucker for the slowburn, falling in love over distance trope. This one does it well, with bonus Richie dealing with his issues and figuring shit out.

Mostly, though, it’s just a slight tug at the back of his mind, another part of his day. A mumbled  let me call Eddie, like an afterthought, while he’s tapping his foot in line at Whole Foods.

Eddie always, always answers.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” he chirps during business hours, dry and glib, and Richie will respond in a deep, exaggerated baritone with something awful like  Mr. Kaspbrak, your test results are in and unfortunately you  will  keep shrinking at an alarming rate for the rest of your life, something barely funny that he says just to get a reaction.

(It had been  such  a mistake to give Richie his work number.)

24. it’s about time that you just unwind by fuckener - ~9,500 words, explicit - Eddie finds out that Richie is gay via his stand-up and promptly loses his mind.

“Yeah? Mine was weird, guys, I’m not going to lie. I came up with this really good idea on how to cause total chaos at a family event, you wanna hear it?” There it was - glasses adjustment, not even past the one minute mark. “If you really want to shake up another dull as fuck Thanksgiving with your parents, just wait ‘til you’re in your forties and your elderly father is spooning out his first helping of mashed potatoes for the night and then drop the bomb that you’ve been gay the whole time. Boom, happy Thanksgiving. Pass the sweet corn, I want to fuck the huge green dude on the can.” People laughed. Richie did that thing with his face between a smile and a scowl. “It’s the long game, yeah, but -”

Eddie slammed his laptop shut.

25. feel this burning, love of mine by floatingonthelehigh - 17,000 words, mature - The clown is a bastard. Richie gets a second chance.

“Don’t leave,” Eddie says quietly, and god  fucking  damn it, it breaks him that Eddie thinks he ever would.

“No,  fuck no, Eddie. I’m not going to.” He adjusts his grip on the jacket against Eddie’s stomach, winces when Eddie gasps in pain. Richie’s lip shakes again as he just keeps talking. “Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think I’d leave you, after just remembering you're my best fucking friend in the world, after twenty seven fucking years. My clown-murdering partner in crime! How could I ever leave you? Fuck no, I’m not leaving you, Eds. Idiot,” He laughs emptily, rubbing Eddie’s cheek, and pauses, beginning to nod to himself as a goal flits into his mind. “I’m going to pick you up, I’m going to get you out of here, to a hospital. Right now. And—” Eddie’s grip on his arm tightens, and he stops.

26. hey there demons (it's me, ya boi) by dharmainitiative - 12,000 words, teen - Is this another ghosthunters AU? Why, yes it is. I don’t know why there are two of these, but I enjoyed them both. This one is much lighter, and I really liked the way that the writer creates a very lived-in feeling as soon as you jump into this universe.

 As it was, BuzzFeed wasn’t a bad place to work, despite all the shit Richie gave it. He was paid well, there were always a bunch of cushy chairs everywhere, and the food that got brought in for lunch everyday was way better than the shitty grilled cheeses he ate at home for dinner. And despite what Richie expected, his coworkers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. Sure, they were all millenials who thought landing an internship at BuzzFeed was the height of success, but most of them were friendly, and occasionally funny, and like Richie, just excited to get paid to do something that required little to no effort.

 Most of them, at least. There was also Eddie Kaspbrak.

 Richie met Eddie his first day at BuzzFeed, when he was shown his desk and the incessantly chatty intern that sat at the desk right next to him. Working side by side — literally — let Richie learn a lot of things about Eddie Kaspbrak: he was a neurotic hypochondriac, exclusively owned Polo shirts, and talked faster than Richie could even blink.

27. New Page, Same Old Book by Rend_Herring - 17,000 words, explicit - Post-movie, Eddie divorces his wife, moves across the country and makes himself comfortable in Richie’s home. Richie is totally fine and not freaking out at all.

He clips the wall coming into the foyer, practically crashes over the little table he uses to stack mail—fumbles around with the chain, the deadbolt, before finally wrenching open the door.  It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sending it bouncing back against the doorstop, that it might have been a good idea to check the peephole and make sure it actually  wasn’t  some asshole out for a smash and grab in the middle of the night, or worse — a  fan.  

Richie would be less dumbfounded by either option.

He squints at the person standing in front of him, blinks.

“I’ve had this dream before,” Richie says, voice still croaky from sleep, “usually you’re wearing less clothes.”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie sighs, and rolls his eyes when Richie jumps back a bit, genuinely startled that it’s  not some manufacturing of his sordid imagination.  “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

28. Drives Me Wild by rustywrites - ~4,000 words, explicit - Eddie and Richie have hotel sex after RIchie wins himself an Emmy.

"I thought I told you no more jokes about how much you love my dick," Eddie says, shifting to straddle Richie's waist in earnest, rolling his hips downward just to emphasize his point, no doubt. His hands are braced on both of Richie's shoulders, pinning him back with his bodyweight, while Richie's hands are on his waist, holding him in place. It's not the most comfortable position, all things considered--Richie's knees are bent over the end of the mattress, his feet still on the floor, and they're both still in their fucking monkey suits.

Richie had tried to make the case with his agent and his manager that he should be allowed to attend the Emmys in the same clothes he always wore (jeans, a shitty t-shirt, a semi-fashionable jacket, you know, the works.) They were good enough for his specials, one of which had earned him the nomination to begin with, but both Anna and Johnathan had pushed back hard, and when Eddie had not-so-subtly sided with them, well. Suit and tie it was.

29. Rewrite by sachi_sama - ~13,000 words, mature - Stan is dead, but somehow only Eddie can see him as they race to beat It. That’s...probably not a good sign. (note: Stan stays dead in this fic.)

“Whoa. Hey, Eds, you being a weepy drunk over there?” Richie asks, and he scoots over into Stan's seemingly empty chair, and Stan vanishes as Richie's hand is suddenly on Eddie's shoulder.

“I just—I saw...” Eddie pauses, and he wipes his hands over his eyes, sniffling. When's the last time he cried? It makes his head hurt every time. “Fuck. I'm sorry, guys.” He stands abruptly. “I'm gonna go splash some water on my face.” He hurriedly exits the room and he hears Mike asking what he saw, but Eddie is already power-walking across the restaurant to the bathroom, aware Dead Stan is hot on his heels.

“Lucky. The bathroom is empty,” Stan says as he leans against the wall. Eddie looks at him, really looks, and he sees the blood on Stan's wrists.

30. ** we are all going forward, none of us are going back series by theappliepielifestyle - ~21,000 words, teen - Richie gets stuck in a time loop and forced to repeat their last stand at Neibolt over and over until he gets it right.

Richie hears himself finish saying Let’s kill this clown  and it’s only when he finishes forming the  n  that reality sets in. What the  fuck -

He whirls around. Everyone’s standing around him, just like they were last night - they’re in front of the fucking house, it’s standing again.

“What the fuck,” Richie croaks. “No, come on - what’s going on? Ohhhh fuck.”

He only lets himself stare at it for a few seconds of unbridled hate before he keeps looking at the others, who are now staring at him, pausing from where they’d all taken a step towards the house before looking back and stopping to watch Richie’s nervous breakdown.

31. ** keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theapplepielifestyle - 16,000 words, teen - Eddie dies, sort of, and meets Stan in the afterlife. The two of them realize that they can communicate with their friends in their dreams. Eddie has to watch Richie slowly breakdown in his absence.

32. ** happily ever afters all the way around series by theapplepielifestyle - ~35,000 words, teen - I have so much appreciation for this author’s desire to fix the ending by any means necessary. In this one, that good old turtle lends a hand and sends Richie back in time to fix everything. It’s...a lot.

Then it smooths out into an actual scene, if jumpy: a sigil on wooden boards that look a lot like the floor of Richie’s apartment. The sigil is probably drawn in blood, but it could also be red paint. Although Richie’s being  very  optimistic about that. Anyway, the dream is mostly that: the sigil being drawn, slow and precise, by Richie. It’s dark in the dream, and the sigil being drawn is overcut with more fleeting images, chased with sounds: Stan’s bloody hand dangling out of a bath. Stan as a kid, on the tail end of saying something as he walks home in the evening. Eddie with blank eyed, slumped in IT’s lair. Eddie as a kid, in mid-argument in the clubhouse. A voice so deep and impossible that it hurts, a voice that reminds him of the turtle’s gaze:  come back come back you can change the -

At the end of the dream, the scene will stabilize. Dream-Richie will say some shit he can't make out. Then he'll say the one thing he can make out, which is: I’m coming.

And then he’ll wake up.

LINK TO REDDIE FIC REC LIST PART TWO 

[marvelslut16]

Too Much

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Part 2 of A Helping Hand

Synopsis: Months after Billy admits that he wants to be better, shit hits the fan and (Y/N) realizes him and his attitude may be too much. Throw in an abusive father who has come to visit and Neil treating Billy like shit, making everything harder for the two before they finally blow up at one another.

Word count:4153

Warnings: Blood. Violence. Domestic violence. Swearing. Bullying. Shit fathers. Angst. Use of the word fag and other insults.

A/N: Thank you to the four lovely people who requested/asked about a part two: @speedmetalqueen​ @strangerfictions​ @noshi-chan​ @jojokoko0717​​ I originally had no interest in making this, but I got inspired. Also I’m thinking about making a part three, which would take place in the future. Let me know what you guys think about that.

“I can’t do this anymore Billy,” your eyes fill with tears. “I really thought you could be different.”

In the months following Billy’s plea for help, he really tried. You would give him that much. But as summer grew nearer, Billy grew tired of your little arrangement. While he was super nice to you, and a decent human being when you were around; he was still an ass when you weren’t. He still threatened Steve, constantly making his life a living hell whenever you weren’t in sight. He still booked nerds in the hall, threatened people that would look at him the wrong way, and fight the ones that dared to talk back. 

And if that weren’t enough, your dad found out where you were living and came for a visit, citing your upcoming graduation as the cause. Your stepdad threatened him with a louisville slugger and the terms of the restraining order your mom has against him. Your father left, but you knew from the look in his eyes that he’d be back and you’d regret sending him away in the first place.  

And boy were you right, on your way home from the video store, you were picking up a movie that Carol wanted to see, when you saw him again. He didn’t approach you, just watched you. You hurried back to your car and drove home, checking every once in a while to make sure you weren’t being followed. 

You knew that you should have told your mom and stepdad as soon as you got home, but you didn’t want to worry them. And, there was a part of you that didn’t want to seem weak, and immediately complaining would make you seem weak in your eyes. So you stay silent, hoping he will just leave on his own. 

A few days later you and Steve are babysitting the party, the two of you sneak off to eat some cold pizza while the kids watch the movie you picked up for Carol. It was Beverly Hills Cop, a movie that you and Steve had seen in the theater together. Some of it may be a tad inappropriate for the kids, but Dustin already swears like a sailor and the shit they’ve already faced, what's the point in pretending that they’re so innocent? 

“Dustin said that he’s known Carol since they were kids, but you moved here freshman year,” Steve states more than asks, leaning against his kitchen counter.

“Our moms have been friends since they were kids. My mom moved away in high school, but they kept in close contact over the years. They used to come visit us often when we lived in Illinois. After the divorce we moved around a bit before Claudia convinced my mom to move back here, and this is where she met my stepdad. So we stayed.”

“I bet you’re happy you moved here, you got to meet Billy,” Steve frowns, insinuating that there’s something going on between you and the boy with the mullet. 

“I’m just trying to help him be a better person, that’s all. He asked for help, and who am I to deny him that?” you frown at Steve. You just want him and Billy to get along, they’re more alike than either would like to admit. 

“I just think-” you cut Steve off before he can bad mouth Billy.

“That we should be studying for our math test? Great idea!” you head over to your bag and pull out your textbook before he can change the subject back to Billy. 

--

In the following days Billy grew more distant, and you heard in the hushed whispers of Hawkins High that he had been getting in more fights than he had in ages. The worst news of all was that Billy had befriended Tommy H and Carol again, something you had heard around school and eventually seen. He had originally agreed with you that they were bad influences on him, and that they only encouraged his erratic and terrible behavior.

In those days where Billy purposely, and obviously, ignored you in school and out of it; your birth father had been following you obviously. Your mom had the restraining order and you didn’t, which he used to his advantage. Everyday the same busted up silver car would loosely follow you everywhere you go. 

Your father was keeping his distance, until one day he followed you to a park. You needed a breather, needed to think about Billy and how long helping him could go on when he didn’t seem to be making any real progress in weeks. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” his acid voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“What do you want?” your voice surprisingly doesn’t break. But maybe refusing to turn and look at him is helping with your strength. 

“To take back what's mine,” his voice grows closer. 

“And what's that?” you whip around and face the man that had left you for dead on your kitchen floor all those years ago.

“My favorite punching bag,” he seethes, face inches from yours. You can smell the strong scents of bourbon and tobacco mingling to create the naeusating scent that is your father. 

“Go find someone your own age to torture,” you glare at him.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he grabs your wrist tightly, causing you to twitch in response. He laughs like a maniac when he sees how easily he can still hurt you. “I saw you with that blonde boy by his Camero at school the other day, I don’t think he’s a good influence on you.”

“Leave him out of this,” you try to sound strong, but it comes out as a desperate plea. 

“Aww, are you his little whore or something?” his grip gets impossibly tighter. 

“No,” you try to yank your arm away from him. His nails dig into your skin and are sharp enough that they leave cuts in your skin. “He’s just some guy in my science class.”

“Don’t lie,” he leers at you before his palm connects with your cheek

“I said no, and I meant it,” you blink back the automatic tears that come with being slapped. He ignores you and yanks on your arm, pulling you into a public restroom that's in the park locking the door behind you two. 

“It looks like I have to teach a little slut a lesson,” his fist connects with your side. You don’t even bother trying to fight back as his fist connects with your gut and your ribs repeatedly. There’s no use, you’ll never win. The moments start to get hazy and blur together as he pulls out a switchblade. He runs the point over your arms, causing small cuts to appear and bleed onto the ground.

You fall onto the hard concrete underneath you as he sweeps his legs through yours. He sticks the blade into your leg deeper than on your arms. The knife cuts through your denim jeans and flesh like they were a mere piece of paper. Your legs starts to bleed profusely, he steps on your arm as you go to put pressure on the wound. 

“He won’t want you now,” he laughs loudly, kicking your ribs as hard as he can one last time before leaving you on the dirty floor alone. 

Your pretty new top has splotchy crimson stains scattered on it, blood drips down your arms and there’s a gash on your left leg from his knife. You manage to pick yourself up and somehow drive yourself all the way home.

“(Y/N), where have you been?” Carol’s yelling voice greets you as you walk through the door.

You ignore your sisters calls and slide down the door after you close it behind you. A loud sob shakes your entire body as you finally feel safe enough to cry. Two sets of feet coming running towards you, but you can’t be bothered to stop crying. Your body and soul hurt too much. 

“(Y/N),” Carol gasps. “Oh my God, MOM!” she screams, running off to the kitchen. 

Your eyes follow the shoes standing in front of you, up until you see the red headed girl staring at you in shock. “Don’t tell anyone,” you hiccup between sobs. Max quickly nods her head, not knowing what to say

“(Y/N),” your mom breathes in horror when she sees the small puddle of blood coming from your wounds. 

“He’s been fo-foll-following-ng me-e. He c-c-corn-nerd me at a p-par-rk. S-s-sai-id he-e mis-ssed hi-is f-fa-favorite-te pu-pu-punching bag,” you sob out.  

Max was sent home after promising she would never breathe a word of what she saw or heard, even if she wanted to tell Billy. Carol was sent to her room while your mom cleaned you up and your stepdad gave your leg stitches, his military background coming in handy. After convincing your stepdad that he couldn’t go kill him, you decided to sleep and pretend that the events at the park never occurred. 

--

It’s unseasonably warm in Hawkins Indiana this spring, you’re the only one still wearing long sleeves. You have on one of your striped turtlenecks and a pair of well worn overalls, it successfully hides every inch of your body. 

There's a group of kids standing in a giant semi-circle in the hallway you walk through to get to third period. Kids are murmuring so quickly all you pick up on are the words Harrington and Hargrove, causing you blood to run cold. You push your way through the crowd, and instead of complaining like they normally would, your peers parted like the red sea as soon as they saw it was you. 

“Billy!” you gasp, when you come face to face with him pushing Steve into the lockers. Your heart drops to your stomach as your last little bit of faith you have for Billy disappears. You wished that you heard the kids wrong when you were making your way through the crowd, but now your worst fears have been confirmed. 

It seems like the men in your life just keep disappointing you. At least you have Steve; trusty, dopey, kind hearted Steve. Who apparently did something so bad that it warranted he get beat up for it?

“(Y/N),” Steve mumbles, still trying to get air back to his lungs from Billy’s shove. 

“I can’t do this anymore Billy,” your eyes fill with tears, ignoring Steve and looking straight into those blue eyes. “I really thought you could be different.”

“(Y/N)-” he reaches out for your wrist, but you quickly move out of his grasp.

“It’s too much,” your voice drops to a whisper. “You’re too much.”

“Like I need you anyway,” he laughs viciously as the crowd that was gathered around him and Steve now laughs at you. “You’re just a pathetic little freak.”

“I’d rather be a pathetic freak than be as miserable and lonely as you are Hargrove,” you frown as words you don’t even mean tumble out of your mouth. “What happens when we graduate and your just another has been bully that peaked in high school? At least Steve and I have potential in our futures.”

You grab Steve and pull him out of the building, needing to put as much space between you and Billy as humanly possible. The fresh spring air hits you as you hear the muffled sound of the bell ringing from inside the school. You’ve never skipped school, but there’s a first time for everything. 

Steve’s wide eyed gaze on you makes your brain process what you just said in the hallway. A traitorous sob leaves your mouth as you fully comprehend how rude you were to Billy. And how rude he was to you. 

“Hey, hey,” Steve pulls you into a hug, running his hand over your hair to calm you. “It’s going to be okay, but for now let's get you home. I’ll pick Carol up from school later when I get Dustin.” 

Steve helps you into his car and drives you home, your too empty home. Your mom and stepdad are on vacation celebrating their anniversary, leaving you home with Carol. Normally you would love it, but with everything that's happened lately you hate it. Granted, you had insisted they still go last night, you didn’t plan on being home alone. 

“I just wanted to help,” you whisper to Steve. “He wanted help and I wanted to help him.”

“I know, and you're an amazing person for it,” Steve says lightly, and you pull on your sleeves that started to rise up during the commotion with 

--

Loud knocks on the door pull yours and Carol’s attention away from Tom Selleck running around in a pair of short shorts on your tv. You quickly mute the episode of Magnum P.I. and head for the front door. “Stay there and don’t make a sound,” you warn Carol. 

You look out the peephole and see a mop of red curls pacing the length of the porch. “Max?” you question as you throw the door open.

“Billy came home from school fuming that he ruined everything. He was listening to his music too loud when Neil got home and he started screaming at him. Billy screamed back, saying that it was Neil’s fault that he can’t be normal. It’s so bad (Y/N),” Max’s voice breaks. “It’s never been this bad before. I’m scared he’s going to kill Billy.” 

Max’s mouth continues to move, but you can’t hear anything after the words kill and Billy. Your heart rate picks up quite substantially as you run out of the house in slippers and just your keys, no jacket, no drivers license, no anything. You see Max and Carol watching from the doorway as you back out of the driveway and speed down the street. You don’t care how fast you’re driving, if Max believes Billy is in serious danger he probably is. 

You whip into the Hargrove driveway, not caring if you hit Neil’s car. You run to the door finding it strangely unlocked. As you get closer to the door you can hear Neil screaming so loud you can hear him clearly through the closed door. His voice becomes impossibly louder as you throw open the front door and enter uninvited or that you're in a Hawkins high basketball t shirt and plaid pajama pants. 

“You. Stupid. Fucking. Fag,” you hear skin loudly hit skin between every word. “You. Ruined. Your. Own. Life.”

“Get off of him!” you scream as soon as you see Neil straddling Billy. Neil was randomly switching between smacking and punching Billy randomly. You wrench Neil off of the beaten Billy with strength you don’t know you possess. Adrenaline you suppose.

Neil’s anger quickly switches to you, and he slaps you across your face, just like your own father. You can feel the familiar sting from flesh on flesh. 

“That all you’ve got?” you antagonize him, trying to keep his attention away from the broken boy that you love.

Love? Now is definitely not the time to have some emotional breakthrough. You’re newly discovered feelings need to be put on the back burner, all that matters is getting Billy out of this house alive. 

“This is the worthless whore turning you into a pussy?” Neil laughs loudly as he turns back to Billy, who is now sitting up. “Max’s friends older sister? She must be damn good in the sack.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Billy screams. He gets up quickly and pushes Neil into the wall so hard that the picture frames rattle, and some fall to the ground and shatter on impact. “And don’t you ever lay a hand on her again!” Billy winds his arm back to punch Neil in the face, but you grab his arm to stop him. 

“It’s not worth it, it won’t make you feel any better in the long run. Take the high road Billy. Please,” he looks at your desperate face and the adrenaline that helped him stand immediately dissipates. 

He falls into your arms, the only thing keeping him standing is you. You wrap his arm around your shoulders and snake your arm around his waist. You glare at Susan, who has stood in the corner quietly watching the entire thing. Neil gets between you and Billy and the door. 

“Don’t test me,” you seeth, getting ready to lean Billy against the wall so you can hit his father. Screw being the bigger person, this man is really testing your patience. “Move before I kick you so hard where the sun doesn’t shine that it’ll be coming out of your mouth.” 

Neil's about to make some smart ass remark until he sees the fresh bruises and cuts littering your arms. You narrow your eyes at him and he silently, and reluctantly, moves out of the way. You quickly help Billy into your car before speeding back to the girls.  

He’s bloody and bruised, worse than you’ve ever seen before. And he’s crying, something you weren’t even sure was possible coming from Billy Hargrove. 

“What happened?” you whisper when you’re stopped at a red light. The obnoxious red illuminating his slightly bruised face. Props to the abusive fathers for choosing hideable places to really bruise their kids. 

“I want to be normal,” his voice comes out quiet, far from the confident cocky boy that you’ve come to know. “He’s why I can’t be. Every time I’m happy he finds a way to hurt me, and then I take it out on kids at school. 

“You need to find a coping mechanism,” you advise as the light turns green. “Maybe you can practice basketball more? ‘Cause I’m sure you don’t want to write your feelings down like I do.”

“The only other woman I’ve ever loved in any capacity abandoned me. No one I have ever loved before has ever stuck around. And I thought it would be easier to push you away rather than you realizing I’m not worth it. That’s why I fought Harrington earlier.”

“Love?” you're bewildered by Billy’s confession. “You don’t love me Billy, if you did you wouldn’t have hurt my only friend to make things easier for you.” You pull into your driveway, neither of you making any move to exit the car. 

“My mom left me with Neil so she could have a better life. I’m worthless to her, I’m worthless to everyone,” Billy admits quietly. “I just didn’t want you to see me like that too, so I found a shitty out.”

“You aren’t worthless Billy Hargrove,” you say softly, hoping he believes you. “And even though we aren’t friends anymore, you and Max can stay here as long as you need.”

This time you make an exit from the car, quickly walking away from Billy and the tangled webs of your feelings for each other. Max and Carol are waiting for you at the door, eyes wide as they land on Billy who’s walking up behind you.

“Carol, go get the first aid kid,” you give her a look that says stop staring. She scurries off and you bring Billy into the kitchen. Her and Max hover quietly as you clean Billy’s cuts and bandage him up. You must have been concentrating really hard, because it feels like some sweat is trickling down your leg. 

“(Y/N), you’re bleeding,” Max sounds worried as the blood seeps through your pant leg. 

“Shit,” you breathe out quietly. “Not another pair of pants,” you whine, taking a seat next to Billy.  

“I’m calling Mom,” Carol exclaims nervously. 

“No you’re not,” you sigh at your little sister. “I probably just popped a stitch, which I can fix myself.”

You gingerly roll up your pant leg to see that you have indeed popped a few stitches. You give a long dramatic sigh as you reach for the needle and thread, but a large thick hand beats you to it. You meet Billy’s eyes and you can see the silent rage burning in them, wanting to beat the shit out of whoever did this to you. 

“What happened?” his voice as soft as yours was in the car. He carefully pulls your bleeding leg up to rest on his lap, his fingers gentle as he caresses your skin before threading the needle. 

“My dad,” you whimper at the confession, and not the needle sliding through your skin. “He’s been following me for days, yesterday he cornered me and beat me up.”

Once Billy’s down sewing you up, he aggressively paces the kitchen like he wasn’t just beat up himself. 

“Billy you need to calm down,” you say gently. “There’s no need for you to get worked up over it.”

“Damn it (Y/N)!” Billy pulls at the ends of his hair. “I’m in love with you! And nobody hurts you and gets away with it.”

“You hurt me!” voice far louder than you intended. Max and Carol’s wide eyes move between the two of you. “More than I ever thought possible. You pushed me away in every way you knew that would mentally hurt me. That’s not love.”

“I was giving you an out-”

“No, you weren’t, “ you cut him off. “You hurt me in order to save yourself pain down the road. Well newsflash, the only one that abandoned someone here is you.” 

“I’m scared!” if you didn’t know any better you would swear that there are unshed tears shining in his eyes. 

“So am I! I realized that I loved you when I was, quite literally, saving your life,” words are once again leaving you before your brain can process what you’re saying. “Hours after you started a fight with Steve for God knows what reason. It’s hard and scary being in love with the Billy Hargrove, the infamous ladies man. Especially when he’s too embarrassed to truly be my friend when we’re at school.”

“You love me?” Billy sounds stunned. Max has a small smile on her face as Carol gaps at your confession. 

“No?” you squint, hoping you can pinch yourself and wake up from this pain pill induced dream. But you aren’t that lucky. 

“I want to be better for you,” he gently grabs your hand, pulling it up to his face so he can kiss the scratches on your arms. “I’ve never felt this way before and I got scared. I wanted to really be friends at school, but I knew Tommy H. and Carol would rip into you.”

“Two broken people don’t make a whole one,” you whisper your last line of defense. 

“But they can be there for each other with love and support,” Billy’s words surprise you. He pulls you into his arms. “I’ll never hurt you (Y/N), never lay a finger on you.”

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “For what I said at school. It was rude and uncalled for, I was lashing out because it hurt.”

“I’m sorry too, for what I said and did,” he sighs before continuing. “I’m even sorry I pushed Harrington into those lockers.”

“You have to apologize to him,” you push lightly on his chest so he looks into your eyes and not at your lips. 

“Whatever you want,” he leans forward, finally capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined, him being such a heavy smoker and all. Typically the smell of tobacco is a turn off for you, but with Billy it’s an inviting smell. The kiss is over too soon, you pull away as Billy goes to slip his tongue in your mouth. There was no way you would go that far in your kitchen. 

Whoops coming from Max and Carol make you extremely glad that you didn’t let the kiss get any deeper. The girls don’t need to see that, and you don’t know how far you two would have gotten before you remembered you weren’t alone. You laugh lightly before placing fingers to your slightly swollen lips. 

Max and Carol say their goodnights, winking at you tow before running off to your sisters room. You lead Billy up the stairs, the energy from both of you draining as you come back to Earth and realize just how tired everything you've gone through has made you two.

“I love you Billy,” you carefully snuggle closer to his chest. 

“I love you too (Y/N),” he gently runs his hand over your hair. 

It may not be conventional, but Billy Hargrove is undoubtedly the love of your life. Both of you have been dealt some pretty shitty cards, but it helps you understand the other better. As you lay in your bed with Billy, you and him make a plan to leave this dangerous city and move to California after graduation. For the first time in a long time, you fall asleep truly happy wrapped up in Billy’s bruised but strong arms.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​​ @rexorangecouny​​

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [iv. Girl Talks and Boys]

—Pairings: BTS x OC

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R

—Warnings: Abuse, Rude Behaviour, Fighting, Blood, Death, Weapons/Blades and Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Killing.

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period.

—Word Count: 7k

 Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Part 2 || Part 4>>

Chapter 3 - Girl Talks and Boys 

“—the local law enforcements in South Korea are still working on the case of the famous murder mystery of the Lee Enterprise executive director, Jung Jae-hee. The case has become a global interest as it is related to the world’s most dangerous and notorious gang of the decade. Tweets, news articles and unseen videos are being surfaced around the web, with ‘Bangtan’ trending on social media. It is being speculated that the notorious group of viscous killers are residing here in America, causing fear and a state-wide panic around the country. The United States government has yet to say anything official about the rumors. Till then, the focus has been shifted onto the murder case and the increasing mafia activities in South Korea—”

Yoona hummed to herself as she sipped onto her herbal tea for the tenth time in the past hour. Her small fingers cupping the warm cup as her ears continued to pick up the words of the nearest news channels playing in the large cafeteria.

It has been few days since the actual incident and people are still continuing to hear the old, recycled news over and over again. The amount of channels covering this piece of segment for the last few days has left a large gaping hole in Yoona’s ears. She was sick, tired and exhausted of it.

Yes, a murder happened in her home country.

Yes, the victim was her former boss.

And yes, the culprits might be the worldwide famous gang called ‘Bangtan’. A native Korean gang who had appeared out of nowhere.

So what? Deal with it! 

Yoona sighed loudly as she buried her face into her arms. Her ears picked up the change in the news reporter’s voice. It seemed more feminine now. Pulling her head up a bit, she glanced at the large TV as a new segment rolled in.

“—moving on, the three-day search for the two college girls in Beverly Hills has now come to an end as the local authorities here in the downtown Los Angeles, discovered a series of dead bodies in the Chinatown district of the city. A total of five girls were found, dead and tortured, with their vital organs missing from their bodies. Two of those bodies matched the description of the two missing girls while others are still unaccounted for. The bodies have started to decompose suggesting that they’ve been dead for quite a while before a citizen of Chinatown found them in a ditch near his area—”

The 26 year old groaned and rubbed her ears in frustration as the segment ate her brain up, again.  She dipped her head back into her arms, pushing the warm beverage away from her fingers. Sure, she felt remorse, pity and sadness for the dead girls but it also annoyed her that her surroundings are filled with so much of negativity. It triggered her in a way that she didn’t like.

That is until... a large folder slammed onto the white table infront of her. The loud bang that erupted from it was enough for yoona’s tired, aching muscles to tense up again. She had to hold down her cup tightly before it could jump and topple down the table due to the vibrations.

“You know, a small warning would have been sufficed.” Yoona said slowly as she threw a slight glare at the person who dared to interrupt her personal ‘me-time’.

“Bitch please. You should be happy that a mere peasant like you has the honour to be in my holy presence. Not even kings can afford me.”

This only earned the intruder a mocking eye-roll from the 26 year old beauty.

“Don’t you have work to do, your highness?” Yoona mocked as her shaking nerves relaxed. She pulled herself up and continued to drink her warm tea. But it wasn’t warm anymore.

“Not when there’s juicy gossip.” Her friend smirked before shoving the said folder in Yoona’s direction. Yoona stared at it blankly. It was black in colour and looked quite thick. “It’s about Jung Jae-hee.”

“No.”

The mere mention of the late director was enough for Yoona to do a 360 turn and never look back again. She picked up her cold tea and left the small table she was sitting on.

“Yuriii...”

“No, Suzy.” Yoona ignored her friend’s whining as she dumped her cold tea through the drain before leaving the blue coloured cup in the sink. “Why are you all so obsessed with her death? People die all the time. Just get over it.”

The little shiver in the older girl’s voice should have been enough for Suzy to stop pestering her friend. But like the stubborn chick she is, Suzy continued in her voyage to tell the new juicy gossip she had discovered recently.

Yoona didn’t like it when her only friend gave her a sudden smirk before pushing her right through the fire exit’s door and right into the stairs that suddenly appeared in her view.

“Suzy!” Yoona exclaimed when she realised that the younger girl had practically kidnapped her.

“Shush.”

“But—”

“I said shush, Yuri. I need some girl time with you. And this, my friend, is the best way we can relish our old memories, considering hardly anyone looks our way these days.”

That was true. Yoona couldn’t deny that fact. They were the noisy, cheap girls of the company. No-one gave them a second glance unless they needed a one-night stand or something. Yoona wasn’t exactly sure how they gained that reputation. She had never been active in her love life unlike her friend, Suzy. Yoona had kept herself quiet, timid and hidden most of the time. Infact, she’s a pure virgin, with no skills at batting her eye lashes at any pretty boy. So, why?

“You want us to bond over a murder case?”

“No, I want us to bond over the world’s most dangerous species... boys.” The girl exclaimed, making Yoona groan.

Boys is a topic that Yoona tends to stay away from. There are just too many old and painful memories associated with them.

“Come on, don’t be a spoil sport. There are many varieties in here.” Suzy insisted as she pulled Yoona near the steel railings where they found a clean spot to sit on. The older girl didn’t like how open and wide spread the exit was. She peeked down to see an array of blue stairs leading down to the ground floor. They were designed in a zigzag formation, continuing on and on for what seemed like, forever.

It wasn’t Yoona’s first time at being kidnapped by her friend. Suzy had done that to her many times on multiple different occasions. But today, the familiar scenery of the descending stairs was unwelcoming. Not to mention, the see-through glass that acted as the walls of this passageway was too exposing and open for her taste. She could literally see the giant skyscrapers from here with a visibility record of 100%.

Yeah... Lee Enterprise is too rich for their own good.

“So, this baby here—” Suzy held up the thick folder. “—was delivered to the queen boss this morning. And like the curious, evil person I am, I snagged it before she could have a chance to read through the papers.”

Yoona raised her eyebrows at this before shaking her head in disappointment.

“No wonder files kept disappearing around Ji-Soo. She’s too dumb to notice her surroundings.”

“Exactly.” Suzy smirked before flipping through the pages. “And that is how ARIA files must have been stolen from her desk. She really needs to invest in a good secretary.”

Yoona couldn’t help but smile at this. Her uncle’s plaything ‘ARIA’ has been unresponsive for the past few days. The files continued to be missing while no-one has any idea as to what has been going on with ARIA. The large casino building is one of their major money-making sites here in the American branch.

“Anyways, back to the topic, there’s a postmortem report in this folder indicating that our lovely girl, Jung Jae-hee, might not be so innocent as we thought.” Suzy teased, flickering to a page filled with numerous Hangul symbols. “I’m not great at reading Hangul, but by the look of this, I can tell, Jae-hee had an intimate intercourse with her killer. It was right before she was killed. How exciting is that?”

Yoona was spooked by her friend’s glazed eyes.

“Exciting? How is it exciting?” She questioned.  

“You very dumb dumb bimbo...” Suzy groaned, hitting Yoona on the head. “Jae-hee was known to have a special, unique taste in men. Whoever she chose to be worthy of her attention, was a diamond from the rarest mines. Think about all the boys that surrounded her. Danny, Brad, Jackson, Bambam and our very own, Taemin.”

The older girl scoffed at her eldest cousin’s name.

“Taemin had a crush on her?” Yoona asked, whacking her brain to remember all the interactions between the two people she despises.

“He still does. Why do you think this baby is here in my hands?” Suzy said in glee, pointing at the opened folder.

“So, what’s the point?”

“The point is that my dear Yuri, Jae-hee had an impeccable taste in men. Which means whoever she had sex with was just as impeccable as her taste. Wanna see who that could be? There are few delicious choices in here.”

The older girl felt scared at her friend’s weird taste in men. She wanted them to bond over a series of hot killers? No thanks.

“No.” Yoona said, shaking her head. “You seriously have a messed up kink regarding these ‘delicious choices’. I’m not interested.” She continued, standing up on her feet.

“Honey, you haven't experienced the dark, steamy side of the world of guns. So women up and sit down.” The younger girl pressured, tugging down on Yoona, forcibly. The force of the little tug, sent the older girl spiralling down onto her bottom.

“Ya!” Yoona shrieked but was ignored by the younger girl.

Suzy threw a smirk in Yoona’s direction before she opened her mouth to recite the names of the killers like an intimate, sex broadcast on a radio.

Yeah, she was that crazy.

“Suspect number one: Do Kyung-soo. Code name is D.O. Height is unknown and DOB is unknown. His occupation is being a freelance hot-headed assassin. He has a body count of 256 people including both women and children. He fights with his hands and bites with his mouth. Known to be very brutal with his victims and has a large thirst towards sex. He’s the maniac elf that even the local law enforcement can’t control.” Suzy read off the folder as Yoona sighed in defeat. She made herself comfortable on the stairs before glancing at the photo of the man that her friend was so intimately reading about.

“The guy looks normal to me.” Yoona commented, not feeling any kind of attraction from the young-ish looking boy. “He’s a bit cute, but not cute enough.”

“You hardly feel anything towards any boy, sweetheart.”

Yoona forced a smile back in her friend’s direction. If only her friend knew about the lost boys from her past.

“So, who’s next?”

Suzy gave a bright smile to Yoona. She patted the older girl in affection before flipping the page to the next person.

“Suspect number two: Kwon Ji-yong. Code name: G-dragon. He’s a sniper, mainly works for the local gang called ‘Big Bang’. But it says here, he’s known to have involved in various assassinations of high profile victims. He’s a bit old for our age but still, he has an impeccable taste in women. Who knows Jae-hee might have fucked him before she departed to hell.”

Yoona looked closely at the picture. The guy looked a bit familiar. Or was it his eyes that reminded her of someone?

“Wait...” she said slowly, letting an old memory resurface. “Isn’t he—”

“Yup. The one and only.” Suzy nodded, cutting her off with a wicked smirk. “Jae-hee must have been one lucky girl to bang one of the most wanted criminals in the world.”

Kwon Ji-yong, AKA the G-dragon, was one of the snipers who was involved in the assassination of Donald Trump, the deceased president of United States of America. The attack took place an year ago. Upon deeper investigations, it was revealed that a series of snipers and killers were hired to kill the president. It was a month of horror for all of Americans and the president himself. There were so many attacks, so many explosions, the streets were flooded with criminals trying to get to the 73 year old man. But in the end, it was the two Asian killers who managed to cut the old man off. And Kwon Ji-yong was one of those Asian killers. The only one who had his face plastered on every news channel.

“Wow..” Yoona gaped at the new information.

“I know right? When I saw him, I had the same reaction.” Suzy commented, running her fingers through the photo. “Too bad he's a wanted criminal. I would have loved to bang this beauty.”

Yoona cringed at the cliche.

“He has a tattoo.” She offered, trying to get Suzy’s glazed eyes off the photo. “A large insect tattoo.”

“So he does.” Her friend teased with a devilish smirk.

“And multiple ear piercings.”

“So he does.”

“He’s not good. He’s bad.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Suzy countered with another smirk. “After all, bad boys are known to bring the heaven to you.”

Yoona groaned at her friend’s infatuation with criminal boys. The very first year into their friendship, Yoona had discovered the crazy obsession of bad boys that lives inside the younger girl. It peeked out from time to time whenever the younger girl’s sexual frustration increased, which by the way was a lot of times. Maybe that’s why the 24 year old was no longer a virgin. The pure innocence was lost in a dark, steamy one night stand three years ago.

“You’re still stuck on that boy, aren’t you?” Yoona questioned when she saw Suzy fingering the little trinket in her neck. It was a little necklace piece shaped into a Bluebell, hanging dangerously close to her round cleavage. It always makes a bell like noise whenever it was moved by her fingers or her olive skin.

“Who?” Suzy asked, snapping out of her glazed look. She was still fingering the little necklace.

“You know... that tall, steamy, purple-haired sex god who let you ride him for hours and hours.” Yoona teased, finally enjoying the moment.

A small hue of red appeared on Suzy’s cheeks. Her lips curled into a small smile as a warm feeling entered her chest.

Yoona chuckled at the blushing young girl. That boy must have been very special to cause the great Bae Suzy to blush like a little girl.

“Hush... stop laughing. It’s not funny. We’re going off topic!” Suzy exclaimed, flicking at Yoona’s obvious giggling state. “Yuri, Stop!” The younger begged. “We have to focus on Jae-hee!”

“Oh come on!” Yoona whined, flicking at the folder. “I’m more interested in your steamy one night stand than this folder full of lazy criminals.” The words caused Suzy’s ears to turn red. “Come on, let me do the honours.”

A terrified look appeared in Suzy’s eyes. Before the younger girl could react, Yoona had already snatched the folder out of Suzi’s fingers before throwing it over the railings. It clattered down the small, narrow gap quietly before a loud thump was heard indicating that the thick file has touched down on the ground floor.

Suzy gaped at her friend’s actions before looking down the railings. Yoona followed the same movements, only to discover the large heap of flying papers still descending down the stairs slowly due to the air and their light weight. The black folder itself was lying limply on the bottom floor like a dead man.

“Y-you just... oh my god!” Suzy couldn’t form the words. She looked so shocked that Yoona tried not to look too guilty. Looks like her habits of being unpredictable were acting up again. “That was Ji-soo’s file you dumb child! I was gonna put it back. But now it’s...”

“Don’t worry, she’ll just think it’s lost like the ARIA files.” Yoona shrugged before pulling the younger girl away from the railings. “Now tell me more about your knight in the shinning armour.”

It’s funny how Yoona changed her mood so quickly. A moment ago she wanted nothing more than to run away from Suzy’s constant prodding into her dead boss’s case and now, she wanted nothing more than Suzy to tell her about the dreamy boy she encountered in her euphoric adventures three years ago. She didn’t even care about the giant stairwell that was now flooded with colourful photographs and Korean paperwork outlining the details of a very sensitive case around America and South Korea. Something that could put a lot of people in a tight spot.

“Please?” Yoona begged, trying not to cringe at herself. Suzy looked tormented between her friend and the file on the bottom floor. After few seconds, she sighed in defeat.

“Why do you want to know so much about my man, lady?” Suzy countered, not liking the sudden interest.

Yoona grinned to herself. I’m interested because then you will forget about that stupid murder case and not give me anymore of those painful headaches that I’m already dealing with. She played the words in her mind.

“Because I love a good romantic story.” She beamed at the younger girl. Lies. I hate romantic stories. They always end up with a sad ending. Like mine did.

“Fine.” Suzy agreed, still giving her friend a suspicious look. She clapped her hands before opening her mouth to recite the memorable night once again. But before she could, a loud noise from down below interrupted them. They both panicked as they heard a hoard of footsteps making up the staircase.

With no time to think, they sprinted out of the same fire exit door that they originally came through, just barely escaping the steely eyes of the eldest Lee child who was sprinting up the stairs to find the person who stole the files from his sister’s desk.

He grumbled when he couldn’t find anyone and stared hopelessly at the mess of photos and papers that covered the stairwell, revealing the origins of his illegal sources.

“Fuck.”

                                                    *******

“—it has now been confirmed that the missing vital organs of the girls found dead earlier in Chinatown, are up on the black market to be sold to the highest bidder. The local police force are trying to trace the source of origin, but nothing has been found yet. With this new killing spree, young girls are advised to stay in their homes until the culprit has been arrested. The death of these girls has raised awareness issues around—”

“I can’t believe he actually did that.” Jongin commented as he grimaced at the graphic pictures being displayed on the large TV. His elder brother who sat beside him also looked uncomfortable. “Hyung, you should keep him in South Korea. He’s too brutal for America.”

“I wish I could, Kai. But I might have pissed him off real bad this time.” Minseok admitted as he shivered at the screams he heard that day. He was a member of the mafia too. He has seen his fair share of murders and has indulged in various killings but bangtan?...  Bangtan is on a completely different level compared to him. They were ruthless and crazy-minded.

“Where is he now?”

“Honestly speaking... I don’t know.” Minseok replied with a shake of his head. He exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling he’s still here, lurking around somewhere in the city.”

A tensed silence passed through them. Their body tensed up at the thought of their cousin still roaming around somewhere in the city. It’s dangerous for that guy to be here. The man had the most unstable mind in the group despite being the oldest and most responsible. He was an obsessed freak.

“This is too depressing for my liking.” The younger joked. Minseok couldn’t help but smile at the lame joke.

“Yeah, it is.”

There was a small pause between them, before Jongin spoke again.

“I wish Chen hyung was here. I miss him.”

The words were quiet and faint to the normal ears, but with minseok’s enhanced hearing, he heard every syllable. He also heard the painful longing that was hidden behind the tone. He looked at his youngest brother with a sad smile.

Kim Seokjin wasn’t the only one who had lost his love that night. Minseok had lost one of his little brothers that day. Kim Jongdae. He usually went by ‘Chen’. He was assigned as a bodyguard for the lovely Lee Yoona, swearing and dedicating his life to protect the girl who has once saved him when he was little.

“I miss him too, bud.” Minseok replied with the same tone. He really wanted his little brother back. But it was too late. The cheerful, playful boy was gone. He died that night, taking three shots to the chest for the very girl he was trying to protect.

Unknown to the Kim family, somewhere back in their home country, in a dark, dirty cell, a man laid on the floor, whimpering from the recent torture he has just received. His face was half burnt. His body was filled with numerous scars and painful wounds. He was shaking on the cold floor as he cried himself to sleep, thinking of only one thing. His brothers.

                                                    *******

“That was a close call.”

Yoona couldn’t agree more. She was slumped down onto her soft, leathery chair, relaxing as she closed her eyes and thought about the unexpected getaway she was involved in few hours ago. All thanks to Suzy of course.  

The older girl glared at the younger girl who was invading her cubicle like a tall tree. Suzy’s eyes were focused on Yoona’s slumped state. After their hurried escape, they had separated into different directions, promising to meet up after the coast was clear.

“How can you be so relaxed, Yuri? We nearly got caught this morning!” Suzy whispered-yelled in a low voice. She was sitting on Yoona’s desk, a pile of papers acting as her cushion underneath her curved butt.

“The only thing I care about is that we escaped. And the fact that I will never let myself be kidnapped by you again.” Yoona muttered, poking a tongue out at the younger girl.

Her friend pouted.

“Oh come on!” Suzy whined. “We both know you were enjoying it.”

“Correction. You were enjoying it, I wasn’t. I was miserable.”

Wrong move.

“Fine, then be miserable forever.” The younger girl hissed before jumping off the table and leaving the workspace.

Yoona shook her head in disappointment. She was used to Suzy’s unexpected angry tantrums. Rubbing her head in complete tiredness, Yoona stood up and made her way to the furthest water station that served cold water and some cold ice cubes. Something that she truly needs to soothe the pain in her head.

Despite her bruises being healed, she still felt her body ache from time to time. The lack of a nutritional diet and her constant voyages of skipping meals produced sudden headaches and body weaknesses inside her. It sometimes affected her health in a bad way, but it doesn’t faze her even one bit. She’s careless with her existence. It’s something she has tried to work on but she never had the right motivation.

“Ahh... this feels nice.” She mutters to herself. The small bag of ice cubes was now placed against her forehead as she sipped onto the cold water quietly. The coldness from the bag was seeping into her skin, soothing the hot pain that penetrated her forehead like fire. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right here and then. But something stopped her.

A loud voice echoing behind her.

“ENOUGH!”

The loud volume of the voice was enough to tell her that it was coming from the nearest cabin which turned out to her uncle’s. Putting her makeshift ice bag and the water cup down, she walked further down the corridor that led to her uncle’s cabin. The curiosity cat inside her was bubbling to know the reason behind the loud voice. Her body shook in nervousness as her feet led her to a slightly ajar door. She stepped a bit closer and peaked through the small open space.

Her cousin Ji-Soo was crying as she held her right cheek with her hand. The tears that tickled down the younger girl’s face almost made Yoona regret her decision to eavesdrop. It was then her eyes travelled to the fuming figure that stood like an angry bull, pointing his angry, blazing eyes at his own daughter.

“Do you see this, Ji-Soo?” The man screeched, holding a stack of papers in her cousin’s face. “This means that someone transferred the property on their name, leaving us with no authorities over ARIA. They took possession of our one of the largest money making revenues in America. Do you know how it could affect our reputation here? Or back home? We will be mocked!”

Yoona griped the door frame a bit harder. She wasn’t surprised at the news, considering the disappearance of the property files was a dead giveaway, but she did feel a bit disappointed though. It doesn’t matter if Lee Enterprise is being controlled by her uncle right now. The company is still part of her family’s legacy. Any losses that it faces, it affected her directly. She had a sense of duty towards it. ARIA was one of the true blessings to their company. It brought a good fortune to them. So, loosing the property was a big disappointment to her.

“Appa, I swear it wasn’t my fault. I had no idea.” The younger girl whimpered as Yoona felt a pang of guilt hit her. She felt an urge to hug the girl. Despite her younger cousin’s hatred towards her, Ji-Soo was still her partially blood sister. Whether she admits it or not, they were related by blood. So, when her uncle raised her hand to hit Ji-Soo again, Yoona’s heart clenched at the sight. She held herself back from entering just in time to see another tall figure blocking the raised hand.  

Taemin.

Her oldest cousin. The brother who fiercely loved his sisters except Yoona. He stood over Ji-Soo like a protective tiger.

“It wasn’t her fault.” He said firmly, gazing into the man’s eyes who gave him birth. Yoona bit her lip in silence. She felt jealous that her younger cousin is so lucky to have such a protective brother on her side. It nearly made her miss her dead sister who promised to stay by her side forever too.

“You of all people should know that Ji-Soo would never do this, dad. The files were stolen. It’s not her fault.”

The elder man huffed angrily at his son. He exhaled loudly before returning back to his seat.

Yoona felt a bit awkward standing there. She was about to move away is when her cousin’s next words stopped her.

“I know who did this.” His voice was laced with venom. “I know who stole the papers and sold them to a bidder.” There was a forced silence in the air, before he spoke again. “The Kim Industries.”

A sudden chill went down Yoona’s back. She lost the ability to breathe for a second. It’s been years since she had heard that name.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They all died that night.” Her uncle countered, grumbling to himself.

“No, not them. Their extended family. Kim Minseok.”

Yoona felt her eyes water at the familiar name. Minseok was one of the supposed brother she had when everyone was still alive. He took care of her just like her older sister. But after that night, he never got in contact with her. She figured either the man didn’t know she was alive or he hated her for killing his brothers. Four members from the Kim family died that night. It was enough for anyone to hate her, considering they all died protecting her.

“He’s been inactive for years, son.” The eldest Lee said, resting his head on his chair. Yoona could see Ji-Soo cowering in her spot on the fancy couch. “He’s an emotional mess due to his brothers deaths.”

Guilt hit Yoona like a wave of water. Was the man she considered as her older brother was really messed up due to his brothers deaths? Does that mean he hates her?

“Kim Minseok has been very much involved with everything we have neglected, dad.” Taemin’s voice echoed through the small gap. “He’s been eating off our hands without a blink from us. I just discovered his little projects.” A slam of a heavy folder sounded among the room. “He has been gambling in the mafia since the very beginning, staying under the radar to avoid us. All the projects we have been involved in, his company, Kim industries, has been snagging them one by one. And ARIA is one of them. Even after those little bastards are dead, their family line still continued to dominate us.”

The 26 year old felt her fingers grip the doorframe tightly.

“How far off is he?” There was a thick tension radiating from the room. Everything had gone so quiet suddenly.

“Far enough to topple down the lowest of our rank in the circle.”

The circle. Yoona has heard about them before. A mysterious group of leaders. The term has come up in many of her uncle’s secret conversations when she had accidentally stumble upon them. Like today.  

There was a silence in the room before something creeked and the door she was leaning on, swung open, toppling her balance and crashing her down to the floor. She groaned slightly at the pain. That was until someone gripped her hair and dragged her into the room.

She bit onto her lips from screaming out.

“We have a pest here, dad.” Yoona gulped as she recognised the harsh voice of her oldest cousin. Her luck has finally ran out. “Let’s teach her a little lesson.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for the fateful slap that would grace her cheek... but after a minute of waiting, it never came. She slowly opened her eyes to see what was happening.

Taemin’s raised hand was being blocked off by another arm. The arm that was covered in a stripy grey suit with the finest material known to mankind. Only one person in the family has a taste for rare things. Her uncle.

“Leave her.” Her uncle’s firm voice cut through the thick silence. Both of his children stood gaping at the man. As for Yoona, she was surprised and shocked to hear the words. Lee Sung-Woo has never defended Yoona before. Her uncle was the one who gave his wife and children permission to torment her with verbal, physical and mental abuse. He let them break her down into bits as he watched from his throne quietly, not giving any care to his beaten and bruised niece. So, why now?

“But dad—”

“I said, leave her.” The older man repeated the words with a dark undertone to his voice. His son shivered before dropping his hand to his side. Yoona glanced at her eldest cousin, only to see him glaring at her. Something told her that she was still in the danger zone.

The elder Lee turned to face her, his light brown eyes boring into her dark ones.

“Get up, Yoona. I have a job for you.” He said, giving her a genuine smile that raised red flags in her head. His face showed the kind features he had mastered over the years while his eyes reflected his true intentions towards her.

Still stunned by his words, Yoona didn’t move from her position on the ground. She still sat on her knees, dress ruffled at places and hair pulled out into a messy hodgepodge due to her eldest cousin’s tight grip on her.

A sudden pain enveloped her when the same man applied a bit of strain onto her escaping roots, causing her to whimper softly.

“Don’t push your luck, pest.” She clenched her jaw at his words, holding herself back from bitting at him. It will sign her an eternity of pain if she ever did.

Slowly but surely, the 26 years old beauty picked herself up from the floor. She stood on her feet with shaky legs as her uncle walked back to his leather chair in the middle of the room.

“I won’t ask you how much you have heard because I know you have heard everything.” The male spoke, rubbing his hands together. “And frankly, it’s a good thing you know this now.” Yoona was puzzled by his words. “Do you remember Minseok?” She nodded which earned her a small laugh from him. “He always stuck around you and your sister like a magnet.”

Yoona bit her lips. Was he mocking her?

By now, she has been forcibly pushed onto a chair, across from her uncle’s table.

“Do you know he hates you?” Her body stiffened. “I bet this vendetta he has going on against Lee Enterprise is because of you. I mean, you were the reason for the death of his brothers after all. How can he not hate you?” Yoona felt a chill run down her back at those words. Her chest ached at the idea of Kim Minseok hating on her. She knew he did, but it hurts a lot when someone say that to her directly. “You very well know who was the target that night.” Yes, she knew. Yoona was the target. Lee Yoona and her older sister. The offspring of the current Lee family.

“And you know why he—” Before he could continue, Yoona cut him off with her hand banging on the dark polished table.

“You don’t need to tell me the past because I know what happened.” She hissed, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I know they died because of me. What do you actually want, uncle?”

A sudden pull on her hair was enough to know that his bratty children are acting up again. She could feel the long nails behind this one. It has to be her darling female cousin.

“Let her go, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa...”

“Let. Her. Go.” The younger child growled before letting go of Yoona’s hair. The 26 year old was surprised at the sudden change in her younger cousin’s behaviour. One moment she was crying and the second she’s on her feet like a wild cat, ready to tear her apart.

“What do you want from me?” Yoona demanded after a full minute of silence.

Traces of a faint smile appeared on her uncle’s lips. He pulled something out of his nearest cabinet and slapped it down onto the table infront of her. She stared at it blankly. It was a large yellow envelope about the size of an A4 page.

“I want you to go on a little trip for me. It’s indefinite of course.” He pointed to the envelope. “All your tickets, identity papers and everything else is in that envelope. You are going to be starting a new life. A new name, a new look and a new identity. Congrats Yoona, you are the new executive director of Lee Enterprise for the Korean branch. You’re going back home.”

“What?!” Three different voices in the room screamed, and Yoona was one of them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, stunned at the words he just blurted out.

His children were also looking at him in shock. Ji-soo’s hand was curled around a nearby couch pillow while Taemin’s fist was turning white due to the pressure he was applying on the chair next to Yoona.

The 26 year old flinched when the leather of the chair curved inwards at the raw strength. She looked at her uncle in obvious shock and fear.

“We need a new person to take the position. It been chaotic in our home country. Since you are practically useless to me right now, I have assigned you as the acting head. The position is yours to work with.”

“What—No!” Ji-Soo said in outrage. “That’s my position! How could you just give it to her?”

“I don’t need to explain my reasons to you, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa—” the girl looked appalled at her father.

“Leave my office. Both of you. Now.” The direct order was cold and piercing to his children’s hearts. The man who had never raised his voice on his kids, unless they did something wrong, is choosing their dirty cousin over them.

When Yoona heard the loud slams of the cabin’s door, she lifted her eyes up to the old man.

“Let’s talk in peace, shall we?”

                                                  ********

Meanwhile, miles away from America and right into the heart of South Korea, a dark figure, clad in the most darkest attire of an assassin, battled his way through a crowd of armed men as his silver blade pierced through their bodies one by one. With each duck and with each stroke of his blade, blood spilled out onto him like splashes of water. The oncoming rain from above hit him like bullets as he rolled on the wet pavement and slashed at yet another men. His clothing that was designed in the most expensive polymer, tightened around his lean figure as he bent, jumped and rolled under various stalls to avoid the oncoming slaughter of the real bullets, aimed directly at his prominent limbs.

“Ya, hyung!” A childish voice whined from behind him. “Hurry up and save me already. I’m hungry!” A young boy said, jingling the silver metal cuffs on his wrist. He was sitting on a nearby stall, sucking onto a lollipop as armed men surrounded him.

The boy was unfazed by the ring leader who tried to make him cower in fear.

“Pali, Pali hyung!” He whined again when the ring leader tried to take away his lollipop. “Ya! You little cockroach, let go of my lollipop or I swear I’ll stuff your butthole with them.”

The assassin who was in the middle of a trio fight, shook his head in annoyance. He bent and rolled on the ground, letting his blade do the work instead.

“Aish.. this kid.” He muttered to himself before throwing one of his trusty knives at the grubby hands of the ring leader. The old, puggy man screeched in pain as his right hand is pierced by a pointy blade in the shape of a Star. “Stay the fuck away from my brother’s lollipop!”

The said brother smiled and continued to suck on the juicy blob of sugar.

Another minute passed, and the assassin’s enemies has decreased in numbers. Bodies piled up the wet pavement as the last of the armed men fell to the ground with a sliced neck. The only one remained was the puggy ring leader and his two trusted men.

“Daebak! Hyung, your awesome!” The younger boy cheered, clapping his cuffed hands together like a teenage Pom Pom girl. His light brown hair also bounced as he jumped up and down.“I feel so proud. My hyung is the best!”

The said hyung scoffed. He has heard that line several times from the younger boy on many different occasions.

“You say the same thing to others, Jungkookie.”

“No, I don’t.” The boy lied, giving the elder a huge, innocent pout. The tongue that has now turned blue due to the lollipop he has been sucking, lapsed around his puffy lips like a little boy. “Pali, Pali! Save me and let’s go for dinner.” He whined again, pouting his lips and widening his doe-eyes.

“Aish...” The said assassin grumbled before raising his sword like a true ninja. He grit his teeth and charged at the last remaining set of men.

A minute later, all three them fell lifelessly on the ground with broken limbs. The younger bunny boy cheered, jumping on the stall like a little kid.

“Yay! Let’s go for hotdogs now!”

The assassin clad in black huffed and wiped his sword clean with his sleeves. He stashed it back into its holster behind him before tugging on his younger brother’s metal cuffs and pulling him off the stall with one hard pull.

The said boy stumbled to his feet before landing on the wet pavement with a thud. His pretty, child-like face turned into a scowl as he felt the rain water seep into his black pants.

“Hyung!” He exclaimed angrily.

“This is the only favour I’m doing for you, Jungkookie” The assassin said in a husky voice as he removed his face mask. He pulled his hood back, revealing a nest of dark orange hair. “Go back home or I’ll dob on you. Next time you get kidnapped by goons, fight your way out. Don’t call me for help.”

“But it’s fun watching you fight.” The boy whined innocently. But he stopped when he noticed his hyung’s narrowed eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

And with that he pulled himself up on his feet, discarding the metal cuffs on the ground with no help. His hands swiped another lollipop out of his pocket before he skipped away, throwing a simple smirk over his shoulders.

“I swear I’m going to skewer him one day.” The assassin mumbled before shaking his head. Who is he kidding? The bright, sunny angel inside him would never let the dark ninja kill his maknae.

Stupid brotherly bonds.

Tag List: @demonic-meatball​, @youtube-obsessed-duh​, @trinityautumn​, @original-internetmonster​, @seoul9711​, @jinniesjoon94​