#Beverly marsh stans rise up

[mad-doodles-stuff]

Miss, you make my heart swoon. 💕

[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

[izzyspussy]

Okay, I'm fully basing my age headcanons on when they would have met in school. So I'm going to use an actual astrology birth chart thing to say everyone's signs, and when/how they started school. Why? Because I am so completely not normal about this.

Post: Holy shit, I can't believe how right these all are alsfkjls. I literally didn't redo any of them?? Bill's and Richie's birthdays are canon, and I guessed at Stan's based on canon context, but everyone else I just vibed on. I could have gone on much longer about their traits than I did. Every single one was almost perfect enough that I could've honestly just linked the whole result page alsfjlkls. Astrology... real? Probably not, but you can't say for sure. Anyway it's two in the fucking morning apparently. Good Bye.

Losers listed in ascending order of age (youngest first, eldest last).

Stan

August 10, 1976

Leo sun, Pisces moon, Pisces rising. He's regal, dignified, focused, and loyal. He's willing to be a follower and can superficially relate to anyone. He's intuitive, compassionate, and makes a great "straight man" lmao. He does whatever he thinks is right in the moment and can get easily overwhelmed.

Stan starts preschool at 3 years old and kindergarten at 5. He spends his two preschool years mostly without friends because he is so quiet and so particular about how he plays. The only kids who hang out with him are the ones who are good at side-by-side play because that's really the only community play that Stan tolerates.

He meets Bill and Richie on the first day of kindergarten, and bonds with Bill instantly because Bill seems to pick up on what Stan's doing with his play and comes up with a plan to elevate it (rather than change it). He's not fond of Richie at first because he's loud and rambunctious, but Richie happily elaborates on Bill's support, and often brings his own toys from home which he is happier to share than to have for himself.

Richie

March 7, 1976

Pisces sun, Taurus moon, Capricorn rising. He's empathetic, adaptable, and prone to loneliness. He's expressive, creative, and sensitive. He's strong-willed, habitual, and hedonistic. It's important to him for others to succeed and feel good too. He's conflict averse. Deeply romantic and sentimental. Often he believes the good things in his life are too good to be true, or that he doesn't deserve them.

Richie starts kindergarten when he's 5 and turns 6 halfway through, and bonds immediately with Bill because Bill comfortably lets him talk as much as he wants while taking only the important parts to heart with remarkable skill for a fellow 6 year old. He wants Stan to like him really, really badly because he thinks he's so cool and smart and he likes his hair.

Ben

February 15, 1976

Aquarius sun, Leo moon, Aries rising. He's a futurist and scorns tradition. He's idealistic, passionate, curious, and accepting. He's hard to shock or to lie to, and he himself is very forthright and earnest. He craves attention and praise, but specifically from select few, and he needs to be left alone when he's upset. He can be competitive, sometimes aggressively so, but not with malicious intent.

Ben was born in Arizona, at dawn. He and his family moved around a lot, all over the country. They made it to Derry in 1989 already three quarters through the school year. He made his first friend on the last day of school, as you all know, with Miss Beverly Marsh.

Bill

January 4, 1976

Capricorn sun, Aquarius moon, Libra rising. He's a go-getter and he loves results. He needs to feel useful and he can't stand to ever be doing nothing. He always keeps his word. He has a big ego and has a hard time being objective. Everyone likes him, and he's very persuasive.

Bill starts kindergarten when he's 5 and turns 6 over Christmas break. He's drawn to Richie first because he's eye catching. He isn't upset at being dropped off, unlike many kids. He marches right over to Richie, who is sniffling but trying to be brave, and pulls him so deeply into a conversation about Jonny Quest that Richie doesn't even notice when his parents sneak away.

Mike

November 27, 1975

Sagittarius sun, Virgo moon, Aries rising. He's cheerful and friendly and loves to move, travel, change, and learn. He believes in his loved ones to a fault. He's detail-oriented and methodical. He likes to help and feel needed. He's content with a simple, humble life. He puts too much pressure on himself.

Mike was in preschool before his parents died, and then was homeschooled by his grandpa and some of his employees. There was a lot of folk knowledge included in Mike's early education. He was poorly socialized as a young kid and therefore quite shy and unsure how to manage emotional boundaries.

Bev

June 6, 1975

Gemini sun, Taurus moon, Libra rising. She's endlessly adaptable, and can blend in with or handle whatever she needs to. She can detach herself from a situation or a person easily, and is very hard to read or get close to. She values feeling safe and grounded in her space and relationships. She hates being told what to do, but once she's decided to do something she commits to it completely. She can protect herself and has great instincts. It's tough for her to stay single.

Bev was born and started school in Portland. Her mom and aunt weren't really family close, but they were pretty good friends and hung out. She started kindergarten already 6. She moved to Derry with her dad after her mom died. She and the original four Losers were vaguely aware of each other (aside from her and Bill during the play). Bev avoided making friends because she was grieving, and by the time she was ready it was too late. Until the new kid showed up, of course.

Eddie

September 13, 1974

Virgo sun, Leo moon, Scorpio rising. He's nit-picky and a clean freak (wow, astrocafe, drag him). He's hard-working and competent and loves being knowledgeable. He's embarrassed easily and sensitive, and stand-offish with new people because of that. He's loud and talkative as soon as he's comfortable. He craves attention and praise, but specifically from select few. He wants to oversee and supervise things and make sure everything is going right, especially for his loved ones. He's dramatic and can throw tantrums when offended. He has a huge presence and can be intimidating. He's easy to love and easy to hate, but never easy to ignore.

Eddie didn't start kindergarten until he was 7! In fact, Sonia only enrolled him when she was legally compelled to. He started kindergarten on October 16, 1981, the very last day legal for him to not be in school in the state of Maine (can you believe I did research for this, and by research I mean a 5 second google). He bonds with Stan first because he is very upset at being left at school, and Stan is the only person - adults included - who can get him to calm down. As soon as Stan accomplishes that, Bill and Richie are on him quick as can be trying to make him happy with compliments and toys.

what the fuck is wrong with me lol

[yesiwasateenagewerewolf]

The Derry Town House is a small, unassuming hotel.

It's old-fashioned and ugly, in desperate need of an update.

It's a strange place for Bill's agent to have booked him.

Stranger still, Bill isn't the only celebrity staying there. Richie Tozier and Beverly Marsh are both checked in. Beverly's husband is with her, a man named Tom who makes the hairs on the back of Bill's neck stand on end even though he's never met either of them before.

The room next to his is booked by a youthful architect, Ben Hanscom, who invades Bill's table at dinner, inviting himself to the seat next to him. Ben is there to meet a client about a private job, but Bill only half listens, jotting down thoughts in his notebook as the night draws on.

He observes the other guests with barley concealed interest, picking them over like they were characters in one of his stories.

There is Stanley Uris, an accountant, who complains to the front desk because none of his calls to Georgia are going through and he wants to speak to his wife; and  Eddie Kaspbrak, a small, terrified looking man who's on holiday with his overbearing wife and looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 

Eddie's wife makes a fuss at dinner, screaming at him for some mistake before she storms up to their room. Bill thinks he should go comfort him, rises in his seat automatically, but Richie is already there, glass of whiskey in hand, sliding down in the seat beside Eddie as if he belongs there. A seventh, and final, man joins them as the evening draws on. His name is Mike Hanlon, he's a librarian and he makes a beeline for Bill's table when he recognises him. Much like Ben, he invites himself to sit down, but Bill finds him rather charming.

At some point Beverly's husband goes to the bar and doesn't come back. She looks around, eyes darting nervously like a cornered cat, until she realises he isn't watching her, and her composure breaks. She laughs out loud, startling them all.

"Come on," she says. "I don't wanna eat alone."

Ben pushes everyone's tables together and Richie drags in their chairs. The atmosphere is almost like a party. They all get on so well, instinctively knowing which buttons to push and when to hold off, making each other laugh. Richie has his arm around Eddie's shoulders, one hand petting his hair. Beverly sits with her knees drawn up, tucking herself into Ben's side. Bill drapes his legs over Mike's lap, yawning, abandoning his notebook in favour of soaking in the warmth of the strangers. Stan flutters between them all like some excited bird, talking over them. Eventually, apologetically, Eddie remembers his wife upstairs. He excuses himself, ignoring Richie's attempts to talk him into staying with them, and heads off to bed. Richie's eyes follow him as he leaves the room. It's hardly five minutes later when Eddie returns, wild eyed and shivering.

His wife is gone.

The bedroom is empty. Only Eddie's suitcases remain.

He's practically hysterical by the time Richie grips his arm and steers him towards the lobby, telling Eddie in a hushed voice that they'll check outside and see if his car is still there.

Beverly doesn't want to find Tom. It's unspoken, but Bill knows it anyway. Stan and Mike offer to check the bar, circling to protect themselves rather than hunting for someone they've lost. Ben takes her room key and checks upstairs. Bill sits with her in silence, trying to think of the right words to say, of how to ask the question when he already knows the answer. "Yes, he hits me," Beverly says, reaching for the packet of cigarettes in her jacket.

Mike and Stan come back from the bar, carrying a bottle or two, but having found no sight of Tom or anyone else.

Beverly smokes in silence until Richie and Eddie return.

Richie runs a hand through his hair, distracted, and laughs uneasily when they ask him if Eddie's car is gone. "We couldn't get outside," he says. "I mean we went through the front door but we just kept looping back into the lobby every time."

Eddie whines low and has to sit down in the nearest chair. He puts his head between his knees, breathing deep and Richie rubs his back soothingly. Bill gets up, wondering if this is some stupid joke, and heads out to try it himself. He walks out the front door.

And walks back into the hotel lobby.

Ben is standing there, his eyes wide and face pale. "I can't find her husband anywhere," he says. "I looked, I really looked, and I found blood in the bathroom, Bill." They all try to leave - together, in pairs, or on their own, but it doesn't work.

Stan excuses himself, heads upstairs, then walks back into the lobby.

"What did you do?" Richie asks, voice harsh, and it takes Bill a second to catch up to why.

Stan only shrugs. "I thought I would see if jumping from the roof changed anything. It didn't, clearly."

Richie throws his hands up in despair and rounds them all up, ushering them back into the dinning room like a sheep dog nipping at the heels of his flock. Bill finds his notebook open on the table, facing up. Scribbled brightly across the page, in big red lettering, are the words 'WELCOME HOME, LOSERS CLUB".

[batterycityghoul]

There’s a Bad Moon on the Rise (Ben Hanscom/Reader) (1/3)

Summary: You're Richie's twin sister and a member of the Losers' Club. When the other members all pack up and leave town, you elect to stay behind with Mike to wait for It to come back. After 27 years pass and Pennywise returns, will you and the other Losers be able to finally defeat him?

Pairing: Ben Hanscom/Reader; Richie Tozier & Reader; Background Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 6.2k

Author’s Note: This is finished at 16k. I decided to split it up into three parts to make it easier. If you enjoy this, then letting me know would make my day! If you’ve seen It: Chapter Two, then you know what you’re in store for regarding warnings...but with the added fun of some canon divergence! 

Masterlist / Read on AO3

The summer of 1989 was one of the most terrifying and exhilarating times of your life.

Growing up, all you really had was your twin brother, and by extension, his group of friends. The girls at school never gave you the time of day, which was the way you preferred it, and most of the guys were completely disgusting.  

By the time school let out in June of '89, your only plans involved hanging out with Richie and his friends while avoiding Henry Bowers and his gang if at all possible.  

Of course, you didn't count on Pennywise.  

The Losers’ Club rose and fell that summer all thanks to the clown who seemed hellbent on traumatizing you all for life.  

You were used to the little group that consisted of you, Richie, Eddie, Stan, and Bill. You had grown used to their antics and usually had to be the first to talk them out of their more dangerous plans. Most days, they drove you absolutely crazy. You figured that was probably par for the course since you were the only girl among a group of boys.  

Surprisingly enough, you got along with all of them. Richie was your twin and the person who knew you best. Out of anyone else in the world, you knew that if you had to, you would die for him. He could be a bit of a jackass, but he loved you in his own way.  

Eddie was the worrier of the group. He was always the first to voice a concern, no matter how outlandish it might seem. You spent half your time with Eddie reassuring him that he was fine and the other half trying to get him out of his own head so he would actually enjoy his time with the group.  

Stan was the other much-needed voice of reason for the group. Both of you had to work overtime to keep the others out of trouble and ended up bonding because of it. When you were just a little too done with the others, you looked to Stan to pick up where you left off. Richie liked to joke that maybe you were misplaced at birth and actually Stan's twin since you two were so alike at times.  

And then there was Bill. He seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group, because everyone always turned to him for a plan. He was sweet and despite the tragedy he went through with Georgie, he always wanted to help.  

He was also the one in the group that you had a giant crush on.  

Crushing on one of your brother's best friends was inconvenient at best. Mostly, you were sure Bill only saw you as his best friend's sister and left it at that. At the very least, even if you wished he saw you as more, you could still always count on Bill to have your back.  

So, while you were more than happy with the friends you had because of Richie, you couldn’t help but wonder if your little group would ever grow.  

Fortunately, that summer, three more kids joined The Losers' Club.  

Ben Hanscom, or Ben Handsome as you liked to call him, literally dropped right into your lives. He was shy and sweet and you found yourself gravitating towards him as time went on. He seemed to have a doomed crush on Beverly while you were totally miserable over your feelings for Bill. You spent many moments with Ben, both of you commiserating over the wreck that was your love lives.  

After Ben joined the group, Beverly Marsh was soon to follow. She was funny and fierce and fearless. You couldn't help but admire the way she absolutely took no shit from any of the others and even managed to fit in with the group of misfits that made up The Losers' Club.  

Mike Hanlon seemed to be the final piece of the puzzle you didn't even realize was missing until the infamous rock war against Henry Bowers and his gang. To your surprise, you and the other Losers managed to win, and it seemed the prize was Mike Hanlon. He was studious and calm in a way that leveled out the group. You were grateful for his presence when he joined, because he soon became your only anchor in the whirlwind that was soon to overtake your life.  

You were glad for the friends you made that summer. Without them, you weren't sure if all of you would have survived. Pennywise would have come after one or all of you and without the others, you might not have made it.  

Storming Neibolt House the first time was only the first fracture you experienced as a group, though. After Eddie broke his arm and everyone went their separate ways, you were scared about what it would do to you. As a group, you all stood a chance against Pennywise. But alone with only your brother to fall back on? You couldn't help but think that it would be oh-so-easy for Pennywise to take his revenge on you all.  

You spent most nights terrified out of your mind that the shadows on the wall spelled your doom. The near-constant fear seemed to only help you bond with Richie more. You spent most nights in his bedroom, staying up until all hours of the night, and doing your best to not flinch at any and every strange noise.  

You watched Richie slowly fall apart without the other Losers. You knew there was one in particular he was missing the most, but you didn't push him to talk about his feelings for Eddie. Derry in '89 wasn't the most welcoming place for what Richie was going through and Henry Bowers and his bigotry in no way made it better. All you could do was let Richie know you loved him and accepted him no matter what and he seemed to take solace in that.  

The group didn't reunite until Beverly was taken by Pennywise.  

Going back to Neibolt House to confront Pennywise felt like the most idiotic decision you had ever made, but it was your only choice if you wanted Beverly back. You were so terrified that she would be dead like the other missing kids, and even though you tried not to let fear rule your movements, it was hard not to jump at every shadow or errant noise down in the tunnels.  

In the heat of the battle against Pennywise, when he flashed his several rows of sharp teeth your way, you almost hesitated. You could easily imagine those teeth tearing through your flesh and ripping you apart. It was Bill's voice urging you to swing at Pennywise that had you using the piece of wood in your hand to attempt to hurt Pennywise.  

By the time Pennywise had managed to escape, you were exhausted. Stan was hurt. Beverly was acting odd. Bill had broken down after having to essentially kill Pennywise's borrowed form of Georgie. The rest of you were still shaken and terrified, but everything you suffered through only seemed to work in your favor afterwards. The group came back together and you couldn't help but think that you felt invincible. If you could go up against a murderous clown with your best friends, then there was absolutely nothing you couldn't do.  

Despite everything you all went through and achieved that summer, it wasn't long before the group broke apart again. By the end of that summer, The Losers lost a member. It was a trend that would continue over the next few years until there were only two left in Derry.  

Beverly was the first to leave. She promised to write, but something weird happened. Once Beverly left Derry, you didn't hear from her. You could tell it worried Bill and the others, but a part of you wondered if it wasn't for the best after everything Beverly had endured in Derry. If you could, you would have wanted to cut ties with the town as well. Although, you hated that she also seemed to be cutting ties with The Losers’ Club.  

After Beverly, Ben's family left. And then Bill. And then Stan.  

By the time it was only you, Richie, Mike, and Eddie, you started to wonder what the future held for all of you. You started to wonder if they were ever coming back.  

Eddie and Richie planned on leaving for college, but you had known that you were going to hang back in Derry. You were going to stay with Mike and wait for It to return.  

It was something both of you had decided on and while Mike insisted he would be fine on his own, you knew that it would be a very lonely existence to spend twenty-seven years in Derry just waiting for Pennywise to resurface. You knew that Mike would need someone to help him through the worst of it and while you knew it didn't have to fall to you, you also didn't notice anyone else sacrificing themselves.  

It didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to Richie and Eddie once they finally left.  

"Are you sure you don't want to get out of this shithole?" Richie was watching you as if he had half a mind to just shove you in his car and drive as far away as he could. "You don't have to stay."

"Yeah," you told him with a sad smile. "I kind of do."

"Well, I'll call," he assured you with a pat to your shoulder.  

"Sure," you agreed. He wouldn't. He would forget. You were sure that was what happened when you left Derry. You just forgot. Forgot the town. Forgot the life you led there. Forgot everything.  

If you forgot Pennywise, then how would you ever know to come back and try to finish the job? No, you would stay in the cursed town with Mike and wait. That was all you could really do.  

You watched Richie go with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.  

It wasn't so terrible at first. Pennywise wasn't around to terrorize the residents of Derry or making meals out of fearful children, so a sleepy contentment settled over the town. It was peaceful, but incredibly boring.  

Mike managed to secure a job at Derry Public Library while you started working the check-in desk at The Derry Townhouse.  

You found that even with Mike's company, you still felt incredibly lonely. You found yourself flipping through photo albums and wishing that Richie would call. You wanted to hear how Beverly was doing and if Bill was working on a new book. You wanted to ask Richie if he ever made a move on Eddie or if they went their separate ways. You wanted to see how Stan was doing and if Ben was making a name for himself as a renowned architect.  

You never did, though. If the others didn't remember Derry, then maybe it was for the best.  

You usually spent most nights having dinner with Mike. He was doing his best to research Derry's history and figure out Pennywise's origins. He figured if he could just figure out one weakness, then it would give you all a fighting chance when Pennywise inevitably came back to wreak havoc on Derry.  

Despite how much you hated it, time wore on. Some years seemed to drag on while others flew by. It seemed like you were bringing Mike a sandwich at Derry Public Library when he mentioned forgetting his lunch at home in 2009 and then suddenly it was 2015 and you were starting to see Christmas decorations appear around town.  

You were at the library one night in mid-December, waiting for Mike to finish shelving returns so you could eat dinner together. It was your turn to cook, so you were planning on making spaghetti and meatballs. Mike had already mentioned the leftover birthday cake in the staff breakroom that was up for grabs, so you were hoping to have some for dessert.  

You were sitting at the front desk, scrolling through a news article about Richie adding more dates to his US tour, and trying to distract yourself from growling stomach. You felt a strange mix of grief and pride as you read the article. You were so proud of your brother, but you mourned the years you missed watching him grow in his career and as a person. There was an ache you got every time you checked up on the other Losers, but it was especially fierce when you came across any news about Richie. It seemed unnatural to have to go without your twin for nearly twenty-seven years and some days you didn't know if you could stand it anymore.  

"You know what's coming, don't you? You know what has to happen?"

You startled at the sound of Mike's voice coming from just behind you. He was reading the article over your shoulder, a sad smile on his face when he looked to you.  

You bit your lip before nodding your head. "They have to come back. They have to help us."  

Over the years, you had both talked over the possibility that Pennywise would be back numerous times. You half-hoped the evil fucker wouldn't dare show his face as long as there were any Losers left in Derry to protect it, but you knew better. Your luck had always been rotten and it wouldn't be long before the murders and reports of missing people started featuring in the news again.  

You had spent so much of your time with Mike trying to convince him that you didn't need to involve the others. Two was always better than none, and while you wanted to see your brother and friends again, you didn't want to risk their lives. Mike was adamant that they all had to come back, though. He insisted it wouldn't work otherwise.  

Mike was incredibly vague about what he meant by that. You knew there was something he was hiding from you. It had to do with the research he had carefully hidden from you, prompting you to believe that there was something heading your way that was likely to kill you all. You hated that after all these years together, he still didn't fully trust you. He had only ever asked that you trust him. He claimed that whatever he had discovered was the ace in the hole you needed to defeat Pennywise.  

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut with each day that passed during the year of 2016. You weren't sure when Pennywise would resurface, but you instinctively knew he would reappear during the summer. It only seemed fitting that the summer of 1989 started this strange and horrifying journey, so why shouldn't it be the summer of 2016 that would end it for good?  

You thought it was morbid that you found yourself thinking that either you would die and Pennywise would continue his reign of terror, or you would somehow live and defeat him. With each passing day, Mike's confidence seemed to be infectious. You caught yourself thinking wistfully of a future away from Derry. You weren't sure where you would go or what you would do, but after so long spent trapped in the tiny town, all you knew was that you wanted out.  

Even though you seemed to always be waiting for his return, Pennywise still managed to catch you by surprise. You were going over the books for the Townhouse, having managed to successfully buy it from the owner in 2014 when he decided he wanted to leave Derry, and bemoaning your choice to become a business owner, when the phone rang. You absently reached out to grab the receiver, frowning down at the numbers that you were sure had to be complete bullshit.  

"Derry Townhouse," you muttered into the phone. "How can I help you?"

"He's back," Mike said, his words immediately sending a chill down your spine. "I need you to meet me right now."  

You weren't really sure how you got from being on the phone with Mike to standing at his side, both of you struck speechless by the bloody message Pennywise had left behind for you to find.  

"Come home," you muttered, feeling fear begin to settle deep within your gut. You tried to fight it off, knowing that was exactly the reaction Pennywise was looking for from you, but you couldn’t help it.  

Mike sucked in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, before he put an arm around your shoulders. "Let's go back to the library," he suggested with a weight to his words that let you know what was coming.

Mike volunteered to make the calls. He seemed a lot more level-headed about what had to happen than you did. You felt like you were sentencing everyone you loved to die. You didn't know how Mike was able to stomach calling each and every former Loser and reminding them of the oath they had sworn in 1989.  

Mike had always been resolute in doing what it took to survive, though. Trapping himself in Derry for twenty-seven years, with the memories and ghosts and fear, was more than enough proof of that.  

When the last phone call was finished, Mike turned to offer you a grimace.  

"I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens now. But I think they'll show up. They have to," he added with a tone that told you he didn't fully believe that. "Do you have any open rooms at the Townhouse?"

You couldn't help but bark out a surprised laugh. "Business isn't exactly booming," you offered when Mike shot you a confused look. "I can house the Losers."

"Then all we have left to do is wait," Mike added with a wry twist to his lips that told you what he was thinking.  

You had both done nothing but wait for the last twenty-seven years.  

It was later that night, after you managed to drag yourself back home, when you got a phone call from a number you didn't recognize.  

"Hello?"

"How the fuck did I forget I have a sister?"

You laughed, a smile on your face. "That's the magic of Derry," you said. "Hey, Richie. I've missed you."

"I think I've missed you too. Fuck," he hissed. "This is so fucking weird. I can remember Mom and Dad, but not you. How the fuck is that fair?"

"Mom and Dad eventually left. I never did." There was a heavy silence left on the line that made you mourn the easy communication you used to share with Richie. "How did you end up with my number?"

"When I stopped freaking the fuck out, I called Mike back and asked him for it. It's funny," he mused with a tone that suggested it was anything but funny to him. "I always felt like there was something missing, but I couldn't figure it out. Like there was someone there who should have been. I guess it was you," he offered with a sigh. "So, hey, you know I'm famous now?"

You felt a genuine smile break out on your face as Richie launched into telling you a story about an afterparty he once attended that resulted in him getting so wasted he accidentally threw up all over a former Spice Girl.  

Later, as you were settling down in bed, you couldn't quite fight off the anxiety that had taken hold of you. If Richie came back to Derry, then Richie would have to fight Pennywise. You couldn't quite justify the idea of making your brother relive some of his worst memories, but you knew that it had to happen. If you believed Mike, and you did, then it would have to be all of you. It didn’t mean you had to like it, though.  

You reached over to turn off the lamp on your nightstand, plunging your room into darkness.  

Moonlight peeked around your bedroom curtains, lending you enough light to just see the outline of the other pieces of furniture in your room. You started to close your eyes, but you caught sight of something that looked out of place.  

There was a figure standing just near the foot of your bed. You felt your breath hitch, a familiar thrill of terror coursing through you when the figure seemed to take a step closer. You heard a wheezing, rattling breath as a hand reached out to rest on the edge of the bed.  

You gasped out a choked breath before you made yourself move, quickly turning on the lamp again. When you looked to the end of your bed to see that there wasn't actually anyone there, you let out a relieved breath. It had seemed so real and with Pennywise back, you couldn't help but wonder if this was It's doing.  

You felt like a child when you left the lamp on, only managing to doze off every once in a while, before jerking back awake to hastily check and make sure no one was standing at the end of your bed.  

You remembered the sleepless nights you suffered in ‘89 because of the same brand of fear you felt that night. There were nights when you swore there was someone else in your room while you were trying to sleep. Whether it was Pennywise’s demented giggle jolting you out of sleep or the feeling of fingers drifting over your ankle accompanied by the sound of a rasping, wheezing breath. You weren’t sure you actually got a full night of sleep that summer and you worried you were in store for the same now that Pennywise was around yet again.  

You spent the next day booking rooms for the other members of the Losers’ Club and counting down the hours until you were all supposed to meet for dinner. You felt a nervous excitement at the idea of finally seeing everyone again. You weren't really sure how everyone would react to remembering Pennywise and the summer of 1989, but you were nearly relieved that it wouldn’t just be you and Mike any longer. It felt like you had been carrying around a terrible secret for years and now the burden would finally be lifted just the slightest bit from your shoulders.  

When you got to Jade of the Orient, you had to sit in your car for a few moments and take deep breaths. You weren't sure why you were so nervous, but you couldn't help but fear that the group dinner was going to be disastrous. You didn't know how much the others remembered, but you were sure once the full effect of Derry began to hit them, it wasn't going to be pretty.  

As you walked up to the restaurant, you noticed a man and a woman standing near the entrance. You felt a smile break out at the sight of the red hair on the woman. You knew instinctively who she was as you got closer.  

"Beverly?" You couldn't help but ask as you considered her.  

Beverly turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing for a split second as she attempted to recognize you, before her eyes went wide. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," you confirmed with a nod of your head as you moved to pull her into a hug.  

"God, it's been so long," Beverly said as she pulled back. You noticed her look at the guy standing just behind her before she glanced back to you. "Ben," she mouthed with a tilt of her head, silently clueing you in to the man's identity.  

"Ben Handsome," you started as you took a step away from Beverly. "Is that you?"

You noticed a blush spread across his cheeks before he ducked his head, suddenly sheepish. It was a gesture you recognized from childhood and you couldn't help but let out a pleased laugh as you moved to tug him into a hug as well.  

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he murmured in your ear.  

You pulled back and let yourself fully consider Ben. You couldn't help but think that he was remarkably handsome and you felt yourself blush when your eyes met his. His hands were on your shoulders and even though it was well past the moment when you should have stepped away, you felt nearly transfixed by him.  

You were struggling to think of something to say, not sure if the moment was turning awkward or oddly heated, when you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.  

You glanced over to see Richie standing just a few feet away. "Well, you all look amazing," he observed as he studied you, Beverly, and Ben. "What the fuck happened to me?" He wondered with a self-deprecating tilt to his lips.  

"Richie," you couldn't help but say as you practically flung yourself at your brother.  

"Hey, Y/N," he said with a delighted chuckle before he brought his arms up to embrace you. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"  

"Too long," you agreed with a sigh as you pulled away from him. You stepped back so he could have his own little reunions with Bev and Ben as well.  

"So, were you guys going to stand out here all night or are we going to get on with this impromptu Losers' Club meeting?" Richie asked after hugging Beverly and shaking hands with Ben. "You three looked kind of cozy out here," he added with a raised eyebrow in your direction.  

You shook your head and turned towards the entrance to the restaurant. "Beep beep, Richie," you muttered before you pulled the door open and stepped inside.  

Reuniting with Bill and Eddie felt just as bizarre and surreal as seeing Richie, Beverly, and Ben again for the first time. Your eyes kept seeking out the empty chair at the table, however. You wondered where Stan was, but like with every meeting of the Losers' Club, it quickly turned loud and chaotic.  

Richie couldn't help but poke fun at Eddie and while you were onto him, it felt like you were able to breathe again after years of suffocating within Derry's walls. You had felt trapped for so long that you forgot what it was like to have almost everyone back with you again. You listened to everyone catch up, your eyes seeking out Bill from time to time. You could still feel the remnants of your childhood infatuation and a part of you wondered if you would ever be over him. You kept glancing to where a wedding band had recently resided on his left hand, surreptitiously reminding yourself that while Bill was recently divorced, it was unlikely that he would ever feel anything for you.  

You focused on the little things that made you feel at peace for the first time in years. Mike's small, proud grin as he listened to Bill talk about his new book and the way Richie kept glancing at Eddie, as if he couldn't believe they were in the same room again. You also saw the spark of interest in Richie's eyes once Eddie mentioned he was separated and well on his way to a divorce.  

You noticed the soft, private grins Beverly shot Bill and the way Ben kept watching Beverly with a reverence that told you his childhood crush was still in effect as well. You let their laughter wash over you as you ate and drank, your thoughts turning to Stan more and more often as the evening wore on and he failed to appear.  

"So, Y/N," Ben started as he leaned forward in his seat, focusing on you. "What have you been doing all these years?" You knew he was trying to deflect after Richie had embarrassed him by calling him hot, so you decided to have mercy on him.  

"I, uh," you started before taking a sip of your drink. "I've been running Derry Townhouse for the past few years."

"You own that shithole?" Richie asked with incredulity in his tone.  

You rolled your eyes before reaching across Beverly to pinch Richie's arm. "Yes," you answered. "And since you're all staying there for free, I'd like a little more gratitude."

"Thanks, Y/N," you heard Ben pipe up before the rest of the Losers toasted to you.  

You had fooled yourself into thinking it might be a nice, uneventful reunion, but you should have known better. Pennywise had to take the first shot at the Losers' Club through the most disturbing and grotesque display.  

The Pennywise bomb had just been dropped on the rest of the Losers right before the fortune cookies were dropped off at your table. Mike had reminded them of the oath they had all sworn and while Richie had attempted to lighten the mood a bit, you knew that everyone was well on their way to freaking out.  

Once Eddie pointed out that his fortune was just one word printed on the small slip of paper, you realized that none of your fortune cookies actually contained a typical fortune.

After you deciphered the message from the fortune cookies, an ominous warning about Stan's fate that read 'I Guess Stanley Could Not Cut It,' chaos erupted from the bowl of unopened fortune cookies in the middle of the table.  

You barely had time to process the fact that you were all being attacked by nightmarish monstrosities when you felt a hand wrap around your bicep, quickly pulling you away from the table. You looked over to see Mike, his eyes wide and frightened, as if he too had allowed himself to forget for a moment why you had been forced to call the Losers back to Derry.  

It wasn't long before there were horrifying creatures flying about the room, knocking into the light fixtures and diving towards you all.  

You heard Eddie scream and glanced over to see Ben trying to shield Eddie from something attempting take a bite out of him. Richie yelled Eddie's name, concern and fear clear in his voice. You only had a moment to make sure your brother was safe before something big and terrifying and screeching flew right into you.  

"Fuck!" You blurted as you tried to ward off whatever was trying to sink its talons into your forearm.  

You felt an arm around your waist before someone spun you away from the threat. You were suddenly facing the wall while someone stood at your back, shouting as they tried to face the creature that was just attacking you. You were panting for breath, not sure if it was out of fear or the adrenaline crashing over you, as you turned to see it was Bill who had saved you.  

"Y/N! You okay?" You heard Richie ask, but you didn't get much of a chance to respond before Mike picked up a chair and began to smash it over the middle of the table in an attempt to destroy the rest of the fortune cookies, insisting that what you were all seeing wasn't actually real.  

You were all more than a little jumpy as you finally gathered outside Jade of the Orient. After the hilariously inappropriate way Richie had yelled at a kid, forgetting for a moment a line from his own comedy routine, you were more than ready to crawl into bed and forget everything.  

You didn't even realize that Beverly was trying to get in touch with Stan, because you were so distracted by the way everyone else was freaking out. Richie and Eddie were yelling at Mike for lying to everyone by conveniently forgetting to mention Pennywise when he called everyone home while Ben and Bill seemed to be silently trying to process everything that had just happened.  

Mike was doing his best to keep everyone from skipping town when Beverly turned to face the rest of you, her phone held to her ear. She quickly put the call on speaker, allowing all of you to hear who was on the other line.  

It wasn't until you heard Stan's wife confirm that Stan was dead that you realized all of your worst fears were coming true. The Losers' Club hadn't even had an opportunity to really face Pennywise and one of you was already gone.  

You were barely aware of the fact that you were struggling to breathe. Stan couldn't be dead. Stan was always the shared voice of reason with you and one of the first to try to talk some sense into the Losers’ Club. He was Stan. Steady and dependable and sarcastic as hell. And he was dead.

"Mike," you called, tears starting to track down your face. "Did we kill Stan?" You whispered as you rounded on him, your breath stuttering in your chest at the thought. "When we called him, did we kill him? Did we do this? Is it our fault?" You could no longer justify calling everyone to ask them to return to Derry. Stan was dead and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all because you weren’t capable of facing Pennywise by yourself. Your fear of getting everyone you loved killed was washing over you and stealing your breath away.  

"Y/N, no," Mike murmured before he moved to pull you into his arms. You only had a moment to rest your head on his shoulder, the tears flowing freely as guilt threatened to overwhelm you, before you were tugged out of Mike's hold.  

"Hey, what the fuck did you do to my sister?" You heard Richie ask as he pulled you into a hug.  

"Yeah, fuckwad, why are you making Y/N cry?" Eddie jumped in. His specific brand of indignation in his tone had you laughing somewhat hysterically into Richie's shoulder.  

"He didn't do anything," you assured them as you finally managed to calm down. “I’m just upset about Stan.” You knew that what you were feeling in that moment was just going to give Pennywise nightmare fuel against you later. How was he going to twist this to haunt you? You shuddered at the thought before you patted Richie on the shoulder and stepped back. "I'm okay," you managed to say as you reached up to hastily wipe away the tears still tracking down your cheeks.  

You felt someone place a hand on your shoulder and you looked back to see Beverly standing there. You noticed the tears welling in her eyes and the haunted expression on her face and knew that Stan's death was hitting her just as hard.  

"Come on, Y/N," Richie pleaded as he pulled your attention back towards him. "Let's just get the fuck out of this shitty town."

"I’m not going anywhere, Richie. I live here," you reminded him with a helpless shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, you're moving," he told you as if it was that easy. He let out an incredulous laugh as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. He looked like he was trying to resist the urge to reach out and grab your arm, as if he was toying with the idea of dragging you out of Derry if he had to. "I can't believe I let you stay here," he muttered.  

"I had to," you argued with a shake of your head. "I couldn't leave Mike alone all these years."

Richie snorted before he rolled his eyes. "Just, come on," he insisted as he nodded over towards his car. "You too, Eduardo. Let's go."

"Yeah, I'm right there with you," Eddie agreed as he made a break for his car.  

"I drove myself here," you reminded Richie when he seemed like he was about to herd you towards his car.  

"Fine. Fuck," Richie sighed as he glanced away. "Meet us at the Townhouse," he conceded before he took off across the parking lot.  

You turned and met Mike's gaze, silently asking what you should do now.  

"I've got him if you've got them," Mike said as he nodded over towards Bill. "There's something I've got to show him. But we'll see you at the Townhouse."

"Yeah, okay," you allowed with a grimace.  

"Y/N," Mike called before you could fully turn away from him. He pulled you into a hug, letting you rest your weight on him for a moment.  

"It was Stan, Mike," you muttered into his shoulder. "Stan."

"I know," Mike soothed as he pulled you closer for a brief moment. "We're going to kill It this time. We'll make It pay. But we can't do that if the rest of us don't band together."

"Yeah," you sighed, understanding what he was telling you to do. You had to go to the Townhouse and make sure none of the Losers were trying to skip town.  

"Y/N," Mike called again just as you were reaching your car. "Thanks," he said when you turned to look at him. "I really couldn't imagine doing any of this without you."

You offered him a weak smile and a nod before you got behind the wheel of your car.  

If you cried all the way to the Townhouse, mourning Stan and wishing that you could go back in time and stop Mike from calling him, then no one had to know but you.

[doodle--writes]

Little Peculiarities- Adult Stan Uris X Reader

Word Count: 1244

Warnings: Self Harm (the bath)

Request: Can I request one where reader is a actress and married to Stan and they have kids and the losers finally meet the kids and laugh because the children the daughter in particular acts so much like Stan.

Author's Note: I added a little fun surprise at the end. Hope you enjoy and sorry for the wait!

_____

The past year had been hellish to put it lightly. You had found your husband with a razor blade pressed to his skin about ten months before.

Neither of you moved for a moment, just stood there wondering how you got to this situation. Stan felt an overwhelming sense of shame and fear that seemed to rise from the pit of his gut to his throat as he dropped the blade.

Your mind raced with questions. Have I been away from home too much? Have I stressed him? Have I failed him somehow? You carefully walked over before kneeling next to the bathtub. Without a word you brought Stan to your chest and he sobbed.

As he sobbed he told you things about his past. He told you about all of the little scars on his face and how they got there. He told you about the painting in his father's office. He told you about Big Bill and the others. He told you everything. And you believed him.

Which made your mind jump to another point- your daughter. If what Stan said was true- which you had no doubt it was- your daughter was in danger.

You and Stan talked it over that night and he decided he would go to Derry. So that night you and your daughter Robin sent Stan off onto a 'work trip'.

In order to do so, you had very abruptly canceled a week's worth of filming for your latest movie. Ironically, it was a horror film but the director was far from pleased with your sudden brief departure.

For days you were stressed out of your mind but when you got the call that it was over- that he was on his way home.

That night your little girl slept in your bed while you quietly cried of joy, thanking whatever higher power for the safety of your husband.

The morning when he returned, he pulled Robin up into his arms and chest. He buried his face on top of her head and kissed her golden curls. You clutched your chest and cupped his cheek with an open hand.

The following weeks were filled with near-constant cuddle piles with Robin when you weren't working of course.

Although you recalled one particularly long day of filming. At the end of it you were covered in gallons upon gallons of fake blood and your own sweat covered you. You headed to your trailer for a long, long shower to wash off the grime and clear the fake blood from beneath your finger nails.

You carefully sat on the bed in just a bra and underwear while you brushed your hair before you heard a knock. You scrambled to pull on a robe and slipped on some flats before opening the door to reveal Stan dressed in his usual formal wear plus his reading glasses. In his arms was Robin, who held out a bunch of little wild daisies.

Without hesitation you pulled her from Stan's arms and to your own chest. You kissed her temple. "I love you my little chickadee."

"I love you mommy," she smiled, smushing her cheek against your shoulder.

"Do I get to meet the proud mommy or what, Stanley?"

You furrowed your brows. "Who was that?"

Stan stepped aside to reveal a rather large group of individuals all of whom stared dead at you.

You felt heat fill your cheeks. "Excuse me. Lemme dress proper and then I'll properly introduce myself." You handed Robin back off to Stan and quickly shut the door before hustling to your closet. You pulled on a simple black dress that fit your curves well enough to be flattering but not flirty.

You did very quick and light makeup (used to doing so being a hustling mother) and slipped on heels before skipping out of your trailer.

You paused when you looked at the group Stan brought along. What jolted you most was the fact that you had met three of them in your career. First:

"Richie Tozier- oh my God you're the Trashmouth my husband told me about!"

Richie laughed and opened his arms. "C'mon I haven't seen you since we worked on that one chick-flick together."

You walked over and gave him a sweet hug but he gripped harder. "Thank you for saving my best friend," he whispered.

"Thank you for helping protect my baby girl."

The two of you pulled apart and you looked to William Denbrough, or more accurately, Big Bill. He had directed the first horror movie you had starred in, along with his wife. The two of you had played sisters.

He smiled sweetly. "Audra sends her regards."

You finally looked to Miss Beverly Marsh. She smiled big. "I see you're wearing one of my dresses. Trying to kiss up to the designer?" You laughed and went in for a hug, which she happily accepted.

Then one by one Stan had introduced you to his friends. Mike, Ben, and Eddie were all new names to you but each one accepted you with nothing but kindness.

Once introductions were done, Stan smiled at you whilst holding Robin's hand while she tried to wander away. "Y/N, baby-love, I was thinking we could all go to dinner."

You happily accepted the idea and all of you headed out.

At the restaurant, you sat across from Stan and Robin just to help keep a proper eye on her. Ben sat on one side of you and Richie on the other.

"You know," Richie began, "she looks like Stan as a kid, but cuter."

You giggled as you watched Stan roll his eyes. Robin, who saw him do so, attempted to roll her eyes but ended up doing a side-eyed pout.

Richie laughed and held his hand out toward the two of them. "C'mon you gotta see the similarities!"

Food arrived at the table not long after and you smiled to yourself when Stan and Robin had the same meals placed in front of them with the exception of one being kid-sized.

They lifted their forks in unison without realizing, which only made the table struggle to contain their laughter.

Stan and Robin both furrowed their brows, which made you laugh even more. Then your phone rang. You sheepishly excused yourself from the table to get it.

You stepped back towards the bathroom before accepting the call. You knew it was from the doctor from the number, but you figured it was because you had never picked up the results of your lab work from a few days prior.

"Hello, this is Y/N Uris."

"Hello Mrs. Uris, we apologize for such a late call but your lab work came back."

"Yes, what of it? Is it explaining why I've been feeling ill in the mornings?"

"Mrs. Uris, you're pregnant."

You quickly ended the call and made your way to the table. Stan and Robin both looked up at you.

"Darling?"

"Momma?"

You smiled. "We're welcoming a fourth into the family." You placed a hand gently against your stomach as cheers filled the room so loud that other tables looked over in annoyance.

"Maybe this time you'll get your own mini-me!"

You laughed and looked to see Stan's eyes watering with joy. You sat down and gripped his hand from across the table. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Robin moved onto Stan's lap and raised a hand. "Me three!"

[halo-jpeg]

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 7.5

Bev and Richie were sitting alone. It was long past midnight now, the moon high and mighty in the great big sky, and the two were the only ones still left in the clearing of Back Cove Park; Stanley had been the first to go, dragging a rapidly tiring (yet still reluctant to leave) Eddie and Bill behind him. Mike had excused himself next, and Ben had gone with him- the two of them had taken the flashlight, leaving Beverly and her friend in near-total darkness, though they really didn't mind. That was just over an hour ago now, and since the departure of the others neither Bev nor Richie had spoken a word. There was an odd tension in the air, waves of some negative feeling rolling off of Richie so subtly that she hardly noticed them. For a good 30 minutes or so she'd been debating asking him what was wrong, why he was so off, but she had been wondering whether that was really a good idea. There were a few different paths she could take here, and each had their own obvious pros and cons; the first option was to let Richie sit in his silence, to let him have his privacy because she knows how much that privacy meant to him. The next option was to, well, wrap up the evening and leave. Beverly was tired and she was certain that he was too, so maybe it was a good idea to get the both of them home safely to sleep on the struggles. The last option, most likely to best one, was to ask Richie about what was bothering him.

Just be forward Bevvie, she told herself, wringing her hands together and picking out the best words she could. Sucking in a silent breath through her teeth, Beverly let her eyes fall momentarily shut, psyching herself up and trying to scrape together enough confidence to speak. Richie and her were seated nearly back-to-back, nothing but one of the stones/stools between them. Richie had pulled his knees up to his chest, his head leaned back to rest on the rock, eyes upturned towards the sky. From her place cross-legged just behind him, she let her own head fall backwards, bumping gently against his own.

"So," She started, her voice gentle and soft and already warning Richie of her upcoming question, "Are you okay telling me what's wrong?" She rolled her head to the side, regarding him out of the very corner of her eye, and could see the way his shoulders tensed, the way he pulled his knees just a little closer, lifting his head upright. It was as if he were curling into himself, tucking himself away into a metaphorical shell as if he were a turtle.

"Nothing's wrong," Richie said, shrugging, "I'm all god, Bev. Don't worry." Uttering a sigh, Beverly sat up and shifted halfway around the rock so that her shoulder pressed against Richie's in as comforting a way as possible.

"I... I know you don't like it when I press but..." Beverly mirrored Richie's position. going silent for a moment as phrases of comfort and coaxing danced around in her mind. She was good at talking to people, good at becoming an impromptu therapist with nearly anyone who's ever come to her- anyone except for Richie. Something about seeing Richie, esteemed Trashmouth and Man of 1000 Jokes and 6000 Riddles, sad or scared or just bummed out threw her rational brain askew, tossing her to flounder into some ocean of unease and unfamiliarity. "I'm here for you, you know. You can tell me anything. We've been through hell together, Rich, and you'll always be stuck with me." A silence stretched between them, the tension pulled taut and threatening to snap any moment now. Those waves of negativity grew stronger, nearly moving in a pulsing tandem with the distant sound of the ocean; why, Beverly was unsure. It could be both because she was upsetting him even further, or because he was letting his walls down one brick at a time. For a moment, Beverly thought Richie was going to stay silent, to decline her invitation to vent- and then, he let his head fall sideways, resting gently upon her shoulder. He scooted a little closer, arm pressed against arm, and shrugged again, dejected and unsure.

"I..." for once in his life Richie Tozier was whispering. "I'm so gay, Bev. Like, so, so gay." Beverly couldn't help but bark out a quick laugh, resting her own head on top of Richie's and rolling her eyes though he wouldn't be able to see it.

"I know that much, Tozier. I also know that's not all that's bothering you, so what's up? What's the problem?"

"The problem is that stupid, jackass, lovely little guy named Eddie. Jesus, Bev, I didn't think I'd ever like another guy again after-" Richie paused for a moment, letting the silence spell out the name he wouldn't allow himself to say, "But here I fucking am and I just- It's scary, you know? It's goddamn terrifying." Beverly nodded her head, a frown scrawling itself over her face.

"What's the scary part?"

"Remembering. I'm... I'm afraid that I'll fall in love and just get fucked up all over again. It's stupid but I can't shake the feeling that-"

"It's not stupid, Richie!" Bev's tone took on something almost scolding, and she reached for one of Richie's hands to counter the harshness, "Jesus, it's not stupid at all. Nathan," Richie stiffened, "was a dick, he hurt you. It's entirely natural to be afraid of that happening again. I promise, I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't," Beverly wrapped her arm around Richie's shoulders, pulling him closer and planting a kiss into his hair, "Eddie's an angel, Rich, you know that he'd never hurt you, right? And if he did," Bev smiled, "I'd break his stupid, jackass, lovely little neck." Richie chuckled, still weak, and shook his head. For another few beats the two fell back into a lapse of silence. Beverly's thumb, which was rested on the top of Richie's shoulder, began to skate back and forth slowly, comfortingly, rhythmic circles that helped to soothe his mind just a little bit. Sadly, with that soothing came weakening.

"No, you don't have to... you don't have to say that. I dunno," He sighed, and lifted his free hand to peel of his glasses. With the heel of his hand he scrubbed at his eyes, and Bev was dumbfounded to discover that his eyes must have been watering. Seeing Richie cry when he wasn't playing a character was a rare occurrence. She hugged him tighter, laying her legs down and pulling Richie right against her chest, cradling him as if he were a baby. "I don't think I'll ever really make any moves on Eddie. I can't risk it." Beverly opened her mouth to speak again, to repeat that Eddie was a good guy, that he wouldn't do the same things as Richie's ex, but he spoke first, "I know, I know what you're gonna say, but that's not what I mean. What I mean is that I can't risk him hating me for it or something, because then Stan and Bill will probably hate me, too- and... And that means they'll hate all of us." Richie's voice had begun to waver. Never ever has Bev felt so utterly horrible, so guilty even though this isn't her fault. "I don't want them to hate me, and I couldn't stand watching them hate you and Ben and Mike because of me,"

"Richie..." Bev tucked Richie's face against her shoulder, placing one hand on the back of his head to run her fingers through his hair, "If they hated you because you were gay then I wouldn't want anything to do with them, okay? I don't want to know them if you can't be yourself around them." As she spoke, Richie's let out a hitching breath, his battle against his own tears clearly coming closer and closer to an end. She pulled him tighter against him, other arm wrapping securely around his shoulders, and felt him hug her right back with a certain desperation, a certain starvation, clinging to her shirt as if he'd never hugged anyone in his life. It was as if she was going to slip away. He shuddered, fighting back a wail rising in his throat, trying not to sob like a child. Even though Richie was so much bigger than Bev he felt like her arms were hiding him from the world. A wave of sudden vulnerability choked his throat.

"I'm just-" Richie's voice broke and that was it for him. He melted into Beverly, the tears finally flowing free, his glasses discarded somewhere nearby and his face pressed into her shoulder, her hair, smelling her lavender shampoo. He began to tremble lightly, gasping for breath between his tears, hating how quickly he'd broken and loving that Beverly was here to cling to because she was probably the person he trusted most on this fucked up planet. "I just- I'm so scared, Bev, I'm so fucking scared and-" He was interrupted by a racking sob, and his tears strengthened tenfold, "Everything- it's all so f-fucking hard and I- I can't- Why the hell am I like this? Why the fuck can't I just- why can't I just be normal?"

"Richard Wentworth Tozier, you are not allowed to speak like that!" Beverly held him tighter, afraid that she might literally be crushing him but feeling the way he hugged her back, "Being normal fucking sucks, dude! What, you want to be some stupid pencil-pushing white boy? Get a desk job, some lame-ass wife? You can have three kids and hate your life until old age finally takes you away?" Richie nodded into her shoulder and she shook her head furiously, grabbing fistfuls of his gross arcade-carpet button up and turning her head so that her face was pressed into the crown of his head, her voice muffled, "Fuck that, Richie. You're awesome. You are literally the single greatest person that I have ever known in my entire life. You're gonna be the best comedian on the planet, and you're going to find and marry the guy of your dreams. I'm not letting you make yourself miserable just because society wants you to be, okay?" Again, with hesitance, Richie nodded. That wasn't good enough for Bev. "You got it?"

"Y-Yes, yes I-"

"Good," The firmness in her voice leaked away, replaced by that Beverly Marsh tenderness that was always hidden deep down below her spitfire, "Because I don't know what I'd do with myself if you stopped making jokes and got all old and gross." Richie was still crying, his shoulders jumping with each attempted-to-stifle sob that he just couldn't hold in. Feeling rather than seeing the misery in Richie's soul, Bev knew she had to do something to bring back his flame of humor, of idiocy, of downright stupidity. He was a fool, and she loved him for it, so she would make a fool of herself if she had to. Beverly screwed up her face, trying to get her voice to change just like Richie's always do- it didn't come as easy to her, not in the slightest, and she mostly sounded like Beverly Marsh but also sounded just a teeny tiny bit like Richie Void Of Soul. "Oh, sorry Bevvie, I can't come and make you laugh because I have a work potluck," Her voice dragged out, taking on a false-tired, lifeless drawl, and it managed to get a shaky little snicker out of Richie that was wet and sad and overtaken by another shaking sob, "Oh, by the way, do you have a recipe for some coleslaw? Usually Karen in accounting brings coleslaw but she died of boredom right at her desk," Again, Richie let out a shaky little giggle, his voice hitching for breath, little hiccups slipping past his lips as he did. The character Beverly was going for was Richie If He Followed Social Norms. It seems the joke landed at least enough to brighten the usually unshakeable mood of Richie Tozier.

"You can drop that recipe off any time after five o'clock tonight," His voice was strained, tiny and Richie pitched it up an octave and tried his best to mimic the depressing lifelessness Bev had adopted, "Any earlier than that and I might be at my sweet angel Joseph's ballgame." Beverly was laughing now too, rocking gently back and forth with Richie still held tightly in her arms.

"What are you, a soccer mom?"

"O-Only if you take Joseph and the team out for pizza after, because I'm just so proud of them. Who cares if they lost!" Richie wiped his damp eyes on Bev's shirt and leaned away, his shoulders, which were hunched, leaning back just gently as he straightened up again. He was grinning in a way that almost looked frightening, tear-stricken and all tooth and self-loathing and relief to have cried out all the sadness.

"Everyone is a winner in my book! Saddle up gang, to the Pizza Hut we go!" Beverly pumped a fist into the air, wiping at her own damp eyes and wearing a grin not dissimilar to Richie's own. Reduced to sad, scared, giggling children in one another's arms, Richie began to feel just a little better. If he tried really hard and had his friends at his side then maybe he really would fine his soulmate or his dream guy or whatever other silly name existed for 'the one'. Maybe he would fulfill his dreams and become a real standup guy, or maybe he'd pursue ventriloquism or he'd become a Rockstar or a radio host or something like that. With a few more minutes together, Richie nearly squashing Bev under his weight, he began to feel good enough to function again. Richie leaned in one more time, wrapping his arms tightly around Beverly's shoulders and crushing the soul out of her in a bear hug. After a moment of near-suffocation he pulled away, his smile more natural than it had been moments later. The two began to untangle themselves from one another like some finicky Christmas lights, and then Richie sat heavily at her side still sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

"Thanks, Bev." Richie clasped his hands, letting them rest in his lap. Beverly's smile shrunk into something serene and loving, and the two let minutes tick by in silence as Richie picked up his last stray pieces and clicked them back into place. Once Bev was certain he was A-Okay once more she let her head shift to look at him, watching him replace his glasses and piping up with a cheeky question and a cheekier grin. Humor and teasing always was the best way to get Rich's spirits up again.

"So Eddie, huh? I didn't take him as your type." Richie let out an incredulous sound, staring at her in disbelief. The way his eyebrows had shot up said 'What the hell are you talking about? Have you seen him?'.

"He's such a- such a little bastard, it's adorable. How can you not be into that?" At this, Beverly nodded her head, letting out a sound that meant 'you have a point' and accenting it with a half-shrug that clearly didn't suffice for Richie believing that she was convinced, "And he's smart and annoying and- well, he's cute, too. So cute with his freckles and his eyes and his hair- not to mention he's way shorter than me- and... uh..." Richie cut himself off, seeing the way that Bev was looking at him. Suddenly, his face went red, flushing with heat, and he lifted one hand to scratch at the back of his neck. He smiled sheepishly. "I... I like him, I think."

"Yeah, Rich," Beverly grinned, her heart swelling with endearment, "I think you probably do."

[deepslateemeraldore]

goin’ crazy from the moment i met you

for the @itfandomprompts gift exchange! this is my gift for @a-portable-snack who requested “ (college Au) Losers go to karaoke and Richie sings Untouched by the Veronicas to Eddie drunkenly and Reddie Chaos ensues “! hope you enjoy this!!!

   - 4k words   - Mentions of weed and alcohol   - Mentions of Bill’s past relationship   - Talks of crushes

  Sleepy college towns are never really thought of as anything other than that. They’re small, oftentimes quiet communities, with bands of young adults trying to find their places in the grand scheme of things. There’s heartbreak, love, loss, and on occasion, loud drunken nights singing karaoke obnoxiously and proudly in the shitty little dive bars that offered such sad excuses for attention. Who in their right mind would find such an embarrassing pastime enjoyable?  

   The answer: Eddie Kaspbrak. A rising star in the world of local track and field, and often found running wild with his band of misfits on the weekends (though, to him, the fact that they were misfits is what made their bond so strong). He couldn’t help the image that the town had put together about him, trotting at the heels of the other town losers; Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, and last but not least, Richard Tozier (though, calling him anything besides “Richie” was bound to get you an earful unless you were his mother). 

 If only the judging eyes could see Eddie, laughing himself sick amongst said friends, singing songs that hadn’t been popular since his elementary school years. They’d take turns picking their most hated songs to sing at each other while the recipient of that round would make sour faces at the offender (but secretly, they wouldn’t be upset. They’d think it was the most hilarious thing, only to be replaced by the following week's act of tomfoolery and embarrassment).

 In fact, karaoke had become a sort of group therapy for the clan of friends. It fell into routine after everyone’s first year at college ended with Richie using his newly acquired fake ID to load up the back of Bev’s car with enough beer to last a whole winter. The three drank at Bill’s until their knees went numb, and ended up wandering around downtown for a bit, stumbling into a shitty dive when the need for greasy food set in. By mistake, Bev signed up for karaoke, and the rest is history. Ben came the next time with Mike, who invited Stanley who invited Eddie. The latter of the two had stood solid on their stance of karaoke being dumb and childish until they’d decided to duet to “Total Eclipse of the Heart” in homage to changing majors. Eddie had never felt more alive than in that moment. 

 Over time, the song selection had grown from moody teenage anthems to half-time show routines, before settling comfortably in a genre appealing to only the chaotically single and nostalgically lonely. That’s not to say they were sad songs, oftentimes they were very fun and upbeat songs, but lyrically they could bring a drunk Bill Denbrough to his knees (though that was a very easy task that only required a small amount of hard liquor). 

 However, one particular night at the Bleu Jay will forever have a choke hold on Eddie Kaspbrak’s tender heart. 

 It was an average Saturday in late March, and he and Bev had spent the morning at various craft stores hunting for diploma frames. Bev had graduated the past winter with a BA in Textile and Apparel Studies, immediately accepting an offer to work with the Penobscot Theatre (along with several other theatres in Maine). She became impassioned for the art made by local seamstresses, and it was clear the feeling was mutual as soon as she joined the team. 

 Eddie would be graduating at the end of that spring with a Bachelors in Statistics (although it was assumed he would enroll in a new program for Anatomy and Biology the coming fall), becoming the fourth of his friend group to get his degree. And he was proud of himself, little “Wheezie” Kaspbrak, coddled by his mother until he could break free, going to college against family wishes and proving that he had more to him than what was publicly thought. And it was exhilarating in the same vein, existing outside of his mother's (womb) house. 

 And, as almost every Saturday since becoming legal went, they set out to celebrate with drinks. And karaoke. 

 Mike and Stan arrived first, Bill, Ben, and Richie next, and lastly, Bev and Eddie. The agreed upon meeting time was always seven thirty, and like every Saturday, Bev and Eddie were late. 

 “Man, you guys are s-s-so late,” Bill slurred, sitting shotgun in Ben’s car with the door propped open. Bev hadn’t even put the car park by the time the smell of shitty weed had made itself known. Bev giggled as she opened her door, shooting Eddie a look as if to say “this should be hilarious.” Eddie followed Bev’s lead, opening the door of the ‘99 Camry, careful not to slam the door too hard, and checking that the mirror had not fallen off (again. It was a junk car, but it ran like a dream, Bev would say). 

 “I already sm-smoked all Richie’s weed, Bev.” Bill followed up. Eddie took one solid look at his friend and let out his own little laugh. Mike led everyone from the parking lot into the bar, and after having their IDs checked (they came weekly, at this point you’d think the poor old bouncer wouldn’t care) they made way to their table. It was the only horseshoe booth in the place, furthest away from the bar counter, and the best place to be loud without getting any funny looks from other patrons. They were also the largest group to ever set foot in the dive.

 Mike would always sit in the middle, Stan and Bill on either side of him, Ben then Bev sitting to Stan’s left, Richie then Eddie to Bill’s right. Just like always. Stan ordered the first round of drinks, making sure to order Bill’s Bloody Mary with more tomato juice and less vodka (the conversation outside the bar between he and Richie about Bill being a “One Hit Wonder” went right over the accused’s head, making for a good laugh all around) and Eddie’s Appletini sans garnish. Bev chimed in to ask for a basket of fries, making Stan’s eyes shine bright. 

 “I knew there was a reason we’ve kept you around, Marsh.” He teased, clapping a hand on her shoulder. Ben smiled at the interaction, happy to see the most tense member of their group relaxing so soon into the evening. As soon as the waiter stepped away, small talk grew into a medium rumble, and talk about classes and grad school and professors everyone hated began to snowball. It only got worse as drinks made their way around.

 “I thought Richie said Short was a good head for the theatre department?” Mike asked Bev softly. Before Bev could respond, Richie had butted in. 

 “No, Mikey, I said Short gives good head to the theatre department,” Was Richie’s reply as he knocked back a shot of Jameson and winced. “Everyone loves a good gum job from-“

 “Beep Beep, Richie.” That was Eddie, exasperated having to hear about the old guy for what felt like the hundredth time. Richie turned to his friend, mock hurt, and scoffed. 

 “But Ed’s, you love to hear about me getting all the foxy grandpas and-“ Eddie’s cheeks flushed pink. 

 “I said beep beep, Dick. Shut up.” Richie stared at Eddie meekly as Eddie turned back to the group and picked up his martini. Without missing a beat, he spoke to Bill. 

 “So, are you and Audra on speaking terms now?” The table sat quiet as Eddie spoke, partially because the tone he’d just used was borderline frightening, but also because Richie had never shut up that quickly before. Bev would have to commend him on it later. Bill cleared his throat. 

 “We t-t-talked about it on Wednesday. I went to s-see her after her shift and all was f-fine. She said she’d rather see me h-happy with a guy than mi-miserable with her.” He shrugged, taking a sip of the water Stan had slyly moved closer to him. Bev nodded, as did Ben, Richie, Eddie. Everyone took a drink. Richie cleared his throat.

 “I’m happy for you, man. Really. Growth and all that shit. Mazel tov or whatever.” Everyone laughed save for Stan, who groaned, sinking into the booth. 

 “So, are we tipsy enough to start singing or does the Donner Party minus Bill need another round?” Richie asked, looking around the table. He was met with stares of confusion. 

 “Why are we the Donner Party minus Bill?” Ben inquired trying to connect the dots mentally. 

 “Because Bill fell off the wagon after I let him hit BabySpice in the parking lot.”  Ben nodded, not bothering to inquire further. Bill made a noise of protest, but was too eager to make a fool of himself on the small bar stage to say otherwise. 

 And so the night began. They moved as a herd to the DJ booth, signing their names after finding a song (although, Eddie had to sign Bill’s name and song, seeing as the lightweight was a bit too fucked up to hold the pen properly. Seriously, one hit and half a Bloody Mary?), then retreating back to the booth, awaiting their names being called to the stage when it was time. They had a few more sips and laughs in between.

 Mike was called first. Mike usually went first just to ease the tension, but tonight he seemed almost a bit too excited to go first. 

 “Is it just me, or is he skipping up there?” Eddie asked Richie, leaning in and whispering while still keeping his eyes on Mike. He felt Richie lean in a little closer to him, too, making his cheeks flush pink again. 

 “I think he might have a crush on someone,” Richie motioned with his head to Bill very subtly. “But, you didn’t hear that from me.” Eddie’s eyes grew to the size of saucers as he turned to face Richie, who smirked and held a finger up to his lips. “Shhh.” Eddie let out a light chuckle, turning his attention back to Mike on stage. The song started up as Mike waved to his friends, who smiled back and began to sway to the music. 

 Eddie smiled to himself as he zoned out, thinking about what Richie has just said. Mike and Bill. Bill and Mike. It didn’t bother Eddie in the slightest, in fact, he became almost excited at the thought of them two dating. They’d always been close, and they’d always made a really good team. And if Bill thought the same way about Mike, then that’d be just dandy! But Bill did just get out of a relationship, but he also seemed happy to bring up the whole “happier with a guy” thing… who knows? Not Eddie. Not in the slightest. Eddie reached for his drink, bringing it close and sipping it throughout Mike’s song, thinking. 

 He thought about “crushes” he’s had in the past on a few girls from his childhood, then the crushes he had in middle and high school on boys, and the crush that he’s had on the same boy since high school. He felt his neck grow hot and downed the last few sips of his martini. Mike’s song ended and they all cheered, although Eddie wouldn’t have been able to tell you what song he’d even sang. The waiter came by their table as Mike came back, earning a pat on the back from Ben (who was up next) and a thumbs up from Bill who appeared to be… blushing? God, if Bill was blushing then I must look like a damn lobster, Eddie thought, then turned to the waiter and asked for a Long Island Iced Tea, sub the rum for extra tequila. 

 The waiter was back within the first minute of Ben’s song, prompting Eddie to waste no time sucking his drink down. His first sip took a bit more than a third of the glass and burned only slightly on its way down. He took another big sip, the glass now just below halfway, which earned a sneering chuckle from Richie, lightly sipping his fourth Jack & Coke.

 “You got a hot date or s’mthin?” Richie asked, almost a little too close to Eddie’s ear.

Now I probably look like a ripe fucking beet, just peachy. Eddie blinked, turned his head to look at Stan and jeered back:

 “Yes, actually. Stanley and I were talking about bringing a himbo or two back to the condo. Why, you think you qualify?” It was Eddie’s turn to smirk, and the blank look on Richie’s face counted as a victory in his book. Eddie focused his attention back to Ben on stage, clapping for his friend as the song finished, hoping his blush was subtle. Richie sat completely still.

 Bev went after Ben, planting a kiss on his cheek as they walked past each other. Bev sang “Baby Got Back”, much to the surprise of everyone other than Eddie (they’d discussed these important matters on the drive). Bill went after Bev, Richie after Bill (although in everyone’s mind, the “Tequila” song did not count, which earned him a do-over for after Stan went), Eddie after Richie (Eddie was also razzed for choosing “Sweet Caroline” due to its extremely popular nature with the drunk crowd), and Stan following last. Eddie had enjoyed Stan’s song, “SexyBack” but only because once Stan was nearing drunk, he would go all out with his dance moves, getting the entire bar (really, the only 5 others in the bar besides the losers) to clap with him. It was fun! It was all fun! 

 Until Richie got up to perform his do-over song. Eddie had gotten up to let him out of the booth, but the way Richie’s normally swinging gait sagged was cause for concern in Eddie’s inebriated mind. Bill, now far too “drunk” from a grand total of three and a half shots worth of alcohol, was whooping and hollering as Richie talked to the DJ. Eddie was prepared, as was the rest of the table, for Richie to choose something to get off easy, something in the family of “Rolling in the Deep” or “Jolene”, with Stan bidding on “Hand in my Pocket” because “it’s just a karaoke classic!”. 

 The conversation roaring around the table while Richie and the DJ looked for some song that wasn’t coming up in the catalog turned to making fun of Bill, who had claimed his “high was wearing off” and that he had “never been this brunk defore”, earning a hearty laugh from the six. Stan and Eddie worked to prop Bill up so he was at least not head first on the table. In fact, they would’ve all missed Richie starting if it hadn’t been for the tapping on the microphone, followed by:

 “Hello, I am slightly tipsy and extremely sorry for what you are all about to see.” Violins came from the speakers surrounding the stage, and when Eddie looked at the screen behind Richie’s head, the panic set in, surrounding the bar in the sounds of 2000’s pop. 

 Richie began to dance, albeit very poorly, to “Untouched” by The Veronicas. He was a little drunk. Eddie was a little drunk. A man sitting at a booth near the DJ was clapping and cheering, and also probably a little drunk. The losers were clapping and cheering. Eddie felt like he was inside an ice cube, and also like he was going to pass out. 

 “I go ooh ooh, you go aah aah,

Lalalala, lalalala,” Richie began to sing, his voice reaching somewhere between a valley girl and a horrible Britney Spears impression. 

“I wanna wanna wanna get get get what I want, don’t stop,” Richie sang to the man in the booth, who hadn’t stopped clapping. It occurred to Eddie in that moment that Richie couldn’t be drunk. Drunk Richie was funny, aloof, extra clumsy, and could barely mutter out a proper sentence. No amount of alcohol would make him do this.

 Eddie tore his eyes away from his friend on stage, intensely studying the remaining ice in his glass. He tried to bring a hand up to fiddle with the straw, to keep himself distracted, but the way his hand shook was going to give away everything he was trying to keep in. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look UP. If he thought about it hard enough, Eddie supposed he could have made himself throw up from the amount of sudden stress (which was code for Gay Panic) building in his abdomen. He could faintly hear Bev and Bill cheering, and out of the corner of his eye caught Stan standing up in the booth to join in the support of his friend. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close your eyes. 

  “Cause you’re the only one who’s on my mind, I’ll never ever let you leave, I’ll try to stop time forever, never wanna hear you say goodbye,” jerked Eddie back to reality, but only because he could feel his worst fear currently coming true. 

 Richie had stepped off the stage, and Eddie had looked over at him just as he had made his way through the small crowd of the bar (and as far as the mic cord would allow). Eddie could feel the eyes shift to him, and was certain that if you hooked him up to an EKG, he would be legally pronounced dead. 

 “I feel so untouched and I want you so much, that I just can’t resist you,” Eddie could tell by the look in his eyes, Richie was determined about something. 

 “It’s not enough to say that I miss you,” maybe this was directed at Bill, because Richie had a crush on him once upon a time. 

 “I feel so untouched right now, need you so much somehow, I can’t forget you,” or maybe this was directed at the guy, sitting alone by the DJ who hasn’t stopped clapping. Maybe Richie was being dramatic, building tension. 

 “Goin crazy from the moment I met you.” It was the direct eye contact Eddie had accidentally made with Richie that kick started his heart. This was directed at him holy shit. 

 “And I need you so much,” Eddie could hear Bev yelling for him to get up, he could feel Stan trying to shove him out of the booth, to go up there right fucking now because this is your one fucking chance. And like some miserable, absolute asinine fool, Eddie stood up, betraying every nerve in his body. He couldn’t hear Richie singing anymore, he could hear anyone in the bar clapping or hollering, hell he could barely even make out Richie’s face as he walked towards him. He watched his lips move, god I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more than right now, tip toeing, trying to keep his balance, trying to make it to Richie before someone else takes the opportunity. 

 There were only a handful of times where Eddie Kaspbrak had felt completely in charge of his situation. The most notable being the day the town bullies broke his arm, and instead of letting them win, he got up and laughed in their faces, sending them running for the hills. However, that was about to be bumped down.

 Without breaking the eye contact, without breaking the cadence of his walk, Eddie Kaspbrak reached out to grab Richie Tozier, his crush, his damned high school through today crush, by the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, god it’s so soft, causing Richie to drop the microphone just as Eddie pulled him down to kiss him. Edward Kaspbrak was kissing Richard Tozier right now in the shitty karaoke bar in fucking Bangor, Maine. And it. Felt. So. Right. 

 It was like all was suddenly right in the world, the planets had aligned, and Santa Claus himself has just had delivered the best fucking gift to the both of them. Eddie felt Richie’s hands grab at his cheeks, then fly around his shoulders, trying to get closer, both of them numb to the fact that they we’re making out in front of their friends and a handful of strangers in a shitty dive bar! Who FUCKING knew?!?

 Eddie pulled away first, partly because of shock, partly because he wanted to open his damn eyes and look at this, commit it to memory. Everything around him became more clear. Bev and Stan screeching, the rest of the losers whistling, and a few of the random patrons subjected to this very odd-and-overtly-sexual non-verbal confession of love. Of love. Richie let the microphone fall to the floor, feedback scratching through the speakers. 

 “This isn’t the way I thought this would happen,” Eddie chuckled, letting Richie pull him into a hug, still in the center of the bar. “But it makes too much sense because it’s you.” He felt Richie press a kiss to his hair, then drop an arm to grab one of his hands. 

 “Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here, yeah?” Richie struggled to get out, his smile distracting Eddie from the fact that his hair was matted to his forehead via sweat. Eddie only nodded, leading Richie past the table of their friends (who had begun to chant “Get a room! Get a room! Get a room!”, earning a swift flick of the bird from both Richie and Eddie), out the door of the bar, giggles from both parties ringing out all the way to Richie’s car, then into Richie’s car, and finally as Richie drove away in his car. 

 The losers had gotten up one by one to follow them out, not even upset at the fact that they would have to cram into two cars now. Stan and Bev were out the door first, still wolf whistling as their (lovebird) friends drove off, Bill, Mike, and Ben at their heels. 

 “Wow, now that’s the m-miracle of lo-blargh,” everyone had turned just in time to see Bill barf up soggy French fries and an obscene amount of water. Calls of:

 “Jesus Christ,”

  “Eww, Bill,”

 “And that’s why we give you water, lightweight,” rang out in their circle, the friends taking a step back, Mike motioning for Bill to take a seat on the curb they stood on. 

 “I think that’s our cue to leave,” Bev stated.

“Ben, you wanna run in and pay the tab real quick? Take my card.” Ben nodded as Bev extended her hand with a card to him, disappearing back into the bar a final time. 

 “So, Marsh, where’s that twenty you bet me our Senior year?” Stan joked, helping Mike get Bill standing again, heading towards the cars. Bev laughed, throwing her head back. 

 “Where’s my twenty for saying Eddie was going to be the one to kiss him first?!” Bev shot back, reaching into her bag to pull out a crumpled twenty. Stan reached into his pocket, producing a folded crisp bill. They exchanged cash, laughing. 

 “This made no sense,” Bill offered coherently, stumbling closer to Mike. Stan and Bev turned to face him. 

“Why did Mike sing a Blondie song if he’s not blond?” It was Mike’s turn to throw his head back, letting out a hearty guffaw, before turning to Bill and responding. 

 “It’ll make sense someday,” Mike offered, wrapping his arm around Bill’s shoulder. Bill smiled, and shut up promptly. 

 They all sat around the parking lot for a while talking, sobering up. Bev had had a few cigarettes, sharing with Bill hoping to bring him back to earth. It was just as Mike and Bev got ready to drive off when Richie and Eddie pulled back into the parking lot, swinging between the two cars. Both were smiling messes, giggling and pink with a few new bruises on each of their necks. 

 “Just to put this out there, Eddie Kaspbrak fucks!” Richie yelled, peeling out from between his friends' cars, Eddie laughing and yelling “no! No! Shut up!” Between laughing fits, pulling back out onto the main road once more, riding off into the night. 

 “Let’s make that an extra twenty, Miss Marsh.” Stan smirked, waving at Bev shaking her head. Ben waved back as they pulled out of the lot. 

 “I should’ve thought this through more.” Bev laughed, reaching for Ben’s hand, and joining the other two cars on the road home. 

[bowieandqueen11]

Treehouse / Ben Hanscom Imagine

Request: hey darling! could i request a ben for it chapter 2 where they are together and it’s that scene where they all split up to get their memories back thing (if ygm) and the reader is made to see ben and bev and she thinks it’s real and ignores ben and he’s all confused and upset (soft boy) and she eventually just asks him why he did it and he reassures her it wasn’t real and he would never do that to her? thank you so much i love love LOVE your work!! one of my favourite writers ever!! 

Dude stoppp you are too sweet you’re going to make me cry ;33

My blog is really dead at the moment so every interaction you’re able to give is seriously appreciated and tells me people want me to keep writing! <3

Stopping by the Quarry, you turn away from the rocky edge to look back up at the neverending cloudless sky.

The tree you glance over lifted its branches to the sky as if it very presence was enough to beat back the darkness and command the daylight to fall on his papery leaves. Its bark shone like the right kind of gold, the sort that inspires the mind to heady heights of imagination, opening doors to fantastical kingdoms. 

Your heart had always ached to come back here. To come back for what you had left.

Waking up during early mornings as a kid, enchanted by the slight cool breeze as it skims the tip of your toes that are sticking out from underneath the blankets Ben had sneaked out of his aunt’s home had been heaven. As the air slides through the open holed windows your nostrils fill with the smell of wild flowers and bliss. Removing his arm gently from your waist, mornings before school used to be filled with nuzzling your nose against his forehead, stifling laughter as his gentle snores used to fill the treehouse.

When he had built it, Ben had told you that it was your place of make-believe away from the other Losers, a place your imaginations could fly. And yet, everything in that little wooden square always felt so real.

After Ben had told you that he loved you one quiet morning, whispering it against your cheek when you had slipped away from your house to spend the night with him there, just talking and holding hands and gazing up at the stars through the small hole in the ceiling, the two of you used to spend as much time as possible there. 

The moonlight would splash down its watery white-silver glow, bathing the two of you as you rest your head back against Ben’s chest, laughing at the way his eyes flutter close at the sensation. In the distance the trees were silhouetted against the deep velvety Derry sky, but in here you reach up to brush a few wisps of hair out of his face as he starts mumbling, reading the book you had brought over to show him. He had run out of new ones to read in the library, so you had jumped at the chance to share your favourite book with him. In the morning, when the two of you wake up entangled with each other, Stan’s banging on the hatch door telling the two of you to ‘get up or we’ll all be late lovebirds’, you grab the book from the floor and stuff it in your bag without a second thought. It’s only when you’re in English class and knock it out of your bag when reaching from your textbook do you notice what he’s written inside.

‘My heart burns there too.’

Opening up the hatch, you almost sneeze at the amount of dust that swirls around your eyes and tickles your nose.

‘The book must still be here somewhere’, you murmur, reaching another arm in to pull yourself up from the broken ladder. It takes you a moment to hear the rustling noise in the darkness.

‘Pennywise?’

It takes you a moment to make out the face of your husband lying on the floor amongst the dirt. The kiss that followed came out of nowhere. All you could see were jagged shapes: his hand clasping gently into the back of Beverly’s fiery hair, pressing in softly. After a few seconds he broke away and smiled, ‘I just had to do that, even if it is only once. My heart has always burnt with you.’ The look on her face told you everything. The two of them lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel your heart crack in two. Then he’s all business, undoing her jeans, pulling them off, his hand beginning to land on her thigh, his touch feather-soft as it slowly rises upwards. Every kiss has a raw intensity, becoming rougher and rougher until you can’t look anymore, slamming the hatch down and jumping back onto the crunchy, dying grass of Derry’s abandoned Quarry.

You had gripped on so tightly to the edge of the entryway that your palms began to burn and your nails dug so far into the wood they began to bleed.   

Suffering. That's how Ben always described had always described his loneliness before he had met you. Suffering. But it was worse. It was suffocating.  

~

‘Do you remember this place? I’m amazed it’s still standing. Richie banged it up enough while we were young I was sure it would have collapsed by now.’

Ben laughed hoarsely before coughing, using his fist to try and cover half his cheeks, and with them, the rising blush that spread like wildfire over his light freckles as you stare down at the dirt

'Honey, why are you so quiet? What happened today? Was it Pennywise? I’m sorry we had to split up, but we’re so close to this all being over-’

‘Why have you always loved Beverly Marsh more than me? Why didn’t you just leave with her?’

He stops the hammock from swinging by sticking out one boot and sliding it until it left an indent in the dirt, his toes kicking against a bright red paddle ball that goes flying across the boards until it nestles in the dark cracks.

'Sweetheart, wh-what are you talking about? I don’t love Beverly. Sure, she was a good friend to me, to all the Losers, but love- no...no.’

‘I saw you two today. I saw you.’

‘Y/N I was at the school all day. I promise. You’re my wife, and I love you, and I would never do anything like that, something that could hurt you. You have to believe me.’

You couldn’t bare looking at his eyes as they glimmered with watery tears, feeling as if his whole world was about to crumble. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down his face, the muscles of his chin trembling like a small child and I looks up towards the open sky, as if the light could soothe him. There is static in his head once more, the side effect of all the years he spent alone as a childhood: something he had prayed his whole life he would never have to experience before.

‘I’m not letting Pennywise tear us apart. He’s taken too many years from us, but not now. He can’t tear us apart now, I can’t do it-’

Grabbing your hand, he entangles it with his own, his knuckles white as you raise your left hand to splay against your husband’s back, rubbing tender and nonsense patterns against his muscles as you feel them shiver under your touch. 

‘It’s okay Ben, I believe you.’

[larprealgirl]

Implications | Stan Uris

Stanley Uris/Reader College AU

CW: sexual content, slight angst

word count: 1,488

Part 1 of a Waiting [2]

For as long as you could remember, you were a people person. An extrovert for all intents and purposes. It was like there was a magnet inside of you, pulling others towards your eccentric personality and loud mouth. You made people feel comfortable and you loved it. It had been years since someone really disliked you.

Perhaps that was the reason it bugged you so much that Stanley Uris seemed so disgusted by your presence. Of course, the feeling was completely mutual, but you had good reason. He had a problem with you from the moment you met him.

When Beverly Marsh first introduced you to her friends, it was when you started dating. Eventually, you realized that you were both too excited about meeting another gay woman to realize that you weren’t compatible at all. But you loved her nonetheless. And she loved you. So did her friends.

Minus one, obviously. He critiqued everything about you. It was like nothing could leave your mouth without him having something smart to say about it. And it wasn’t in a friendly way like he did with Richie Tozier, someone who never ceased to shut up (and that was saying something, coming from you); it was in a blatant distaste for your entire existence. You were too messy, as if his other friends weren’t. You were a suckup, as if Bill Denbrough didn’t spend every afternoon in the office of his creative writing professor. You were a woman? But so was Beverly. You were gay? Hell, so was Beverly. So was Richie. So was his boyfriend Eddie Kaspbrak. So what was it?

That was all you wanted to know. You were past the point of trying to get him to like you, because that was a fruitless effort that only made you hate yourself more than you hated him. You just needed to know why he hated you so much. 

So, after taking a little too many shots at Mike Hanlon’s dorm, you decided you would find out. 

Mike tried to talk you out of it. Aside from Beverly, he was your closest friend, and he always prevented you from doing stupid things. Something that, believe it or not, took a lot of effort on his part. But tonight would be one of the unfortunate times where he failed. 

Beverly tried to talk you out of it. You didn’t listen. Ben Hanscom, the final friend in your friend group, and probably the most responsible, tried to talk you out of it. You shoved him off. Bill and Richie were too stoned to care. Eddie was asleep with his head in Richie’s lap. And Stan? He was studying, at his stupid dorm, for his stupid test, for his stupid class that you couldn’t even remember. 

Luckily, you could remember where his dorm was. Before you knew it, you were banging on his door loud enough to wake up the others in the hall. 

When he opened the door, he looked surprised to see you. That was understandable, considering it was 12 AM and you were piss drunk in a pair of Beverly’s pajamas. His surprise quickly turned to annoyance. 

“People are sleeping, (Y/N). Could you be more respectful?” 

“Not you or your roommate,” you answered, pushing past him into his empty room and throwing yourself on his bed. His roommate starting sleeping with his girlfriend on the weekends once Stan threw a book at them while they were having sex.

He sighed, muttered something under his breath, then shut the door and turned to face you. You could tell by the way his brows were furrowed that he was not impressed with your behavior. Was he ever?

Not remembering why you came to him to begin with, you felt your eyes slowly pulling themselves shut. Did Stan have a mattress not issued by the college? It certainly felt more comfortable than your own. Maybe if you just rested for a little bit, you’d remember why you were there… 

A snap jolted you awake, and you opened your eyes to see Stan bent over in front of you, a frown on his face. You suddenly remembered all your anger from earlier and sat up immediately, ignoring the pounding in your head as you did so. 

But a bright, blinding light only agitated you more. You realized quickly that the light was the sun. You swore it was dark when you got there. Right? What time was it? 

“You’ve been asleep for seven hours,” Stan said, nonchalantly handing you two pills which you swallowed dry without bothering to ask what they were.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? You’re such a creep,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly. 

He turned to face you, his face devoid of any emotion. “You’re annoying when you drink. And I did wake you up. Just now.” 

You didn’t have anything to say. You suddenly felt very exposed in his room, alone with him, as if you hadn’t just slept in his bed for hours. Why had you come here? It was such a stupid idea. But still, this was the nicest he’d ever been to you. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” You suddenly asked, peering up at him to see how he reacted. 

Stan, being as blunt as always, didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“Everyone just loves you. You don’t even have to try. And that’s not fair, (Y/N). How is that fair? How is it fair that I’ve gone my whole life having to work to be tolerated and you can just exist and be loved?” 

That wasn’t the response you were expecting. Well, to be fair, you didn’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. You always percieved Stan to have this confidence about him, which was understandable. He was smart, he was handsome, he had good friends. You knew he was loved. He was appreciated. 

He sat down on his bed next to you, running his hands through his loose curls roughly. You wanted to comfort him, but you didn’t know what to say. What could you even say in that situation?

Carefully, you reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. He stiffened but didn’t respond otherwise. So you moved closer, testing the waters gently, and reached up to touch his cheek, turning his face so he was looking at you.

“You are loved.”

“Even my friends like you more than me. My friends. Everyone loves you.”

“I came here last night because they wouldn’t shut up about wishing you were there. I couldn’t get away from you. It bugged me that they always spoke about how you have this huge heart, but there’s no room for me in there. They love you.”

“I want to be like you.” 

“You’re better than me, Stan. You aren’t just loved; you’re cherished.” 

He didn’t say anything. He looked into your eyes, tears pricking the edges of his own. You only then noticed how bright they were. 

Before you could ask if he was okay, his lips were against yours. 

And they were soft. Of course, they were soft. Stan had a chapstick collection bigger than you’d ever seen, and you swore he put it on every five minutes. What chapstick was he wearing? You didn’t know, but it tasted like honey. It was sweet. 

Almost as soon as it started, it ended. He pulled back, his eyes wide and his face red. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve asked, at least, but I know you’d say no. You can leave. I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I really overstepped my boundaries. I really wasn’t thinking and--” 

Tired of hearing him stumble over a useless apology, you put your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer, kissing him harder than before. His lips were motionless against yours for a moment, and then Hell broke loose.

He pulled you closer, up onto his lap, and put his hands on your waist. You kissed him even harder, gently nipping his bottom lip, which caused him to squeeze your hips roughly, and you swore you could melt into his hands.

You didn’t consider the implications that came with making out with Stanley Uris. You hardly processed that you were making out with Stanley Uris. All you knew was that you wanted this man that was underneath you, you needed him in a way you’d never needed anyone or anything in your entire life. 

You ground against him, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction that would lead him where you wanted. And it did. His lips broke away for a moment, letting out a breathy moan, and his hips involuntary bucked up against you. 

Then he pushed you away. Hard. He pushed you onto the floor, his chest rising up and down rapidly as he eyed you like you were the Devil. 

“I can’t do this with you.”

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 21•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram!

<<Previous Chapter 

(Summary: The Finale.)

The Final Chapter

~

The sun rose on that Saturday morning to find two Ancestors that had shifted back to their human forms.

They ended the night with the Losers in the forest during an intense game of hide and seek. They woke up the next morning cuddled on the beach together. Eddie laid on Richie's chest, their legs tangled up. Both of their ears out. Eddie had his hand placed over Richie’s heart as he listened to it beat inside of his chest. He felt the calming sensation of his boyfriends chest rising and falling. Richie laid nude on the beach with his boyfriend cuddled up on top of him. His wolf tail was half buried in the sand. The dark sand felt cool and moist on his bare back. He had both of his arms wrapped around the fully clothed Ancestor on his chest. The smaller boy was warm, his body gave off enough heat for the both of them.

(Richie needed to undress for his transformation as his was messier. When Eddie’s is more magical. Which allowed him to keep his clothes)

“G’morning” Richie whispered in his deep morning voice when Eddie’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey” Eddie’s face had been emotionless and peaceful while he slept, now it softened at the sight of his boyfriend. He smiled softly, “How are you feeling? Any aches?” His voice came out low, almost a whisper.

“No I-I’m actually okay… More than okay” Richie’s face broke out into a smile, leaning up, lightly kissing Eddie’s lips. One of his hands wandered up to play with Eddie’s messy hair.

“Good, that’s good. We should go back to the hotel before they realize we’re gone” Eddie hesitated before he rolled off of Richie. “Oh- shit you’re naked” Eddie groaned.

Richie snorted, “What it’s not anything you haven’t seen before” he chuckled.

Eddie’s brow creased, he began to take his sweater off, the pullover one he had brought on the trip since he knew that the temperature dropped the closer you were to big bodies of water. “Take this asshole” Eddie tossed the sweater at Richie who made over dramatic kissing sounds in return.

Nonetheless Richie accepted the sweater, grateful to not be 100% nude on the beach now. He sat up and pulled the sweater over his head. Eddie had a thing for larger sweaters which was fortunate because it fit Richie almost perfectly. He cuddled it closer for a moment, inhaling a scent he was all too familiar with. Rain, evergreen, lilacs, Eddie.

“Let’s get going. I wanna be the first one on that bus, and off this fucking island before they find that damn body-“ Eddie cut himself off, knowing that he’d work himself up if he were to continue.

Richie got to his feet, dusted the sand off of his ass and legs. “Which they won’t. That bitch is swimming with the fishes” Richie made a wave motion with his arm, pointed out towards the ocean.

“Whatever” Eddie shut his eyes and shook his head. His soft curls shook from side to side with him, his bunny ears bopping with the motion. The humidity in the air had made Eddie’s normally straight (ish) hair curl into soft little waves that made Richie’s heart skip a beat.

Richie stepped up towards Eddie and wrapped him in a warm hug. Eddie buried his head into Richie’s chest. The taller boy laid his check on top of the others head.

“Seriously though we should go back-“ Eddie said, mufflered by the sweater.

“Oh god!” Richie barked out a laugh, “You really know how to ruin a moment don’t you?” He smiled down at Eddie once they pulled apart.

Eddie rolled his eyes. He stood up on his tippy toes to kiss Richie’s lips before he intertwined their fingers. “Come on sour wolf!” Eddie called out as he began leading Richie back towards town.

~

They snuck Richie in through the back entrance and hid Richie in the bathroom since he was only wearing a hoodie and literally nothing else. So they had to shove his tail into the back of Eddie’s sweater and pull the hoodie on to hide his wolf ears. Which meant Eddie had to run up to their room without being seen by any of the adults and grab Richie’s clothes. But since Eddie gave RIchie his sweater, he had nothing to hide his bunny ears with, so he ended up sneaking around the hotel with his shirt pulled up over the back of his head like a nun.

After Eddie got Richie to dress down the night prior, he had left them in a neat pile in the grass, along with his hat and glasses and Stanley had taken them back to the room so they wouldn’t get lost.

After about the fifth knock he finally heard the distant sounds of footsteps approaching the door. The door creaked as it opened. Stanley only stuck his head out, which gave Eddie more than enough context on what he and Bill were up to previously. The messy hair, the raw lips, and that little dark patch on Stan’s neck that kinda looked like a hickey.

“Oh” Stanley said, shocked to see him. “Morning” He said, eyes wide.

“You guys having fun in there?” Eddie smirked with raised eyebrows.

Stan sighed and rolled his eyes, his head disappeared for a moment before he shoved the pile of clothes at Eddie. “Go” He growled light heartedly as he leaned out just enough to show some bare chest.

Eddie tried to lean in to see more, “Wait are you naked-“.

“Begone!” Stan declared before closing the door in Eddie’s face.

Eddie had to hold a hand over his mouth to refrain from laughing. He took a moment to collect himself before he went back down to that main bathroom in the lobby where he found Richie aimlessly playing with the agalets of his sweater.

“Here” Eddie tossed them at Richie whoo hastily caught most of it.

“Merci Monsieur” Richie said in his best (Worst) french accent. He closed the stall door and began getting dressed.

Eddie leaned his back up against the door and waited a beat before “Stan and Big Bill finally got together” Eddie giggled.

“Shut. Up. Really?” Richie suddenly opened the stall door, causing Eddie to stumble as that’s what he was leaning on. Richie still was not wearing anything aside from the sweater so Eddie’s eyes immediately shot up to meet his boyfriend’s which were wide and in shock.

“Yes really! Now put some pants on” Eddie laughed and pushed Richie back into the stall before he closed the door once again. He could hear Richie giggling from inside the stall. “Hurry up we need to make it so no one finds out we left” Eddie tried to keep a straight tone.

Richie finished changing and gave Eddie his sweater back so he could hide his own ears. He followed Eddie out of the bathroom and back to their room. But just as they rounded the corner in the main hallway leading to their room, they saw Mr Brock talking to Mrs Stuart in the dead center of the hallway.

“Shit!'' Eddie yelped. He quickly shut his mouth and yanked Richie back to the other side of the corner with him. “How the hell are we gonna get passed him?” He wondered.

“Uhh- Here let me try something…” Richie’s voice drifted off as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started sending out a text.

“What are you-“

“Wait” Richie held up a hand as if to silence Eddie.

“-What?”

Richie raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes on his phone, “Keep waiting!”.

They both stopped at the sudden sound of a door creaking open. The boys peaked around the corner and witnessed Beverly Marsh come out of her room with a blanket around her waist. They used their other ears to tune in.

“-I don’t have any! And none of the other girls have any” Beverly complained.

“Are you sure you have uh- it?” Mr Brock asked, he uncomfortably shifted from one foot to another.

“Yes of course I’m fucking sure! Do you honestly think I wouldn’t know when I got my damn period” Bev gritted her teeth.

“Ms Marsh please keep your voice down” Mr Brock tried to smile but failed.

Beverly glanced over her shoulder and sent a glare towards the boys, telling them ‘go now’.

“Beverly I must have some on me” Mrs Stuart began rifling through her purse.

Richie took Eddie’s hand and slowly began creeping behind the teachers backs towards their room.

Beverly kept them distracted long enough until they made it to the door. Then just as they slid into their room, Beverly clutched her stomach and nodded to whatever they had been saying. Mrs Stuart got something out of her purse and discreetly handed it towards Beverly, she took it gratefully and shuffled back into her room.

the moment the door closed to the boys room, they were met with a burst of gasps. Richie and Eddie looked to see who was the source of said gasps and found Bill and Stan, making out on the bed, shirtless.

“OH DEAR GOD!” RIchie exclaimed. He fanned his face as if he were an old victorian woman.

“Get a room!” Eddie groaned.

Stanley rolled off of Bill, nearly falling off of the bed while doing so.

Bill cracked a grin, “We-well we did have one-“

“Yeah before you came!” Stan shot back from where he was on the edge of the bed, obviously a little pissed by the interruption.

Bill waved him off, “H-How was the fuh-fuh-full moon?” Bill asked curiously.

Eddie’s face went blank, as did his head.

Neither of them had time to respond because their door opened seconds after. “Hello- Oh! Good to see you boys are already ready! The tide rises in 20 so let’s get going” He motioned for them to get a move on.

Stanley and Bill quickly pulled their shirts on and packed the little things they had out. Since they only had their school supplies because they hadn't planned to stay the night. Everyone was ready and they left the room to meet up with the rest of the group down in the main lobby.

The rest of The Losers greeted them excitedly, happy to see they made it out in one piece. But no one directly asked about it, everyone complained about their shitty sleep and how excited they were to get off of this island. Eddie momentality zoned out and tuned into the conversation that the main bellhop was having with Janet the tour guide.

“Have you seen Elizah this morning?” He asked quietly, but nothing was ever quiet enough for Eddie to hear.

“No… Last night she left in a hurry, said she had some unfinished business to get to” Janet shrugged, not given any further information.

The hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stood tall as his body froze. Apparently Richie was listening too, he slung his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer. Just then the teachers began leading the group to the exit, towards the busses. “Let’s get on this bus and out of here” He whispered down to Eddie.

The bus ride home was quiet. The Losers talked about the first 20 minutes, but not about the full moon, they knew that this was certainly not the place to do it. Ben and Mike were the only ones who stayed awake out of the seven Losers. On the way back Beverly opted to sit alone because she and the girls in her room stayed up until 4 binging the newest season of Turtle Creek on TV. During that time Ben introduced Mike to The Jonas Brothers, he explained the enteried of their TV show, Jonas and the storyline to both Camp Rock movies. They also listened to some of their first albums with Ben’s dual headphone adapter. Mike was happily surprised at how much he enjoyed their music.

When they finally reached Derry High, it was noon. All of the students rushed off of the bus, nearly trampling over Mr Brock in the process.

Maggie and Wentworth Tozier had taken the day off work (as they usually do the day after the full moon) to go see their son. They had found a spot near the back of the parking lot and waited anxiously with the rest of the parents in the loading area. When the bus pulled up the two parents’ nerves only escalated the longer they watched students pile off of the bus and split up in little groups.

Finally, they saw the all too familiar sight of their lanky son in his oversized hat and baggy sweater.

“Richie!” Maggie nearly gasped as she pulled Went with her towards him.

Richie sped up once he saw his parents,“Hey” his voice wavered as he was slightly overwhelmed by his emotions. That was when he realized how exhausted he was. A full moon, little to no sleep, and an encounter with an evil witch? That can really drain someone.

Maggie ran to her son and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay” She whispered, almost in tears.

Richie felt another pair of arms wrap around him, recognizing them almost immediately as his father’s long, strong arms.

Eddie had let Richie run ahead of him when he spotted his parents. He felt a feeling of longing wash over him when Richie pulled his arm away from him. He watched as Richie was enveloped in a massive hug by his two, loving, parents. His heart ached as he could almost see the love radiate off of their little group hug.

After a moment, Went loosened up, tilted his head upwards and glanced up at Eddie. “Come on in here, son” He requested as he opened an arm up, making room for Eddie.

He looked up at them, his heart swelling, “Oh No, I don’t mean to intrude” Eddie slowly shook his head.

Maggie turned her head and her gaze landed on Eddie, “Come here Eddie” She smiled warmly, something he never got from his mother. “You’re a part of the family now”.

And with that, Eddie couldn’t hold in the tears any longer. His eyesight blurred as the tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t respond, only nodded quickly and with a wobbly smile he rushed into their big hug. Family. Finally.

~

“... So I had to leave, unless I wanted to die. I came here, like my dad did. And I found Richie” He glanced down at their intertwined fingers. “And all you guys” Eddie looked around at all of The Losers who surrounded him, his real family.

It was now Sunday. The day after The Losers returned home from their very eventful field trip to the small island of Balmoral. As the group had lots to talk about, Eddie agreed that it was best that they all meet up at the entrance of the forest so he’d be able to show them the way to his house. Now they sat on the couch in the late Frank Kaspbrak’s house.

“But you guys can’t tell anyone. Seriously, we’d be in deep shit if anyone ever found out about this” Richie informed them, gesturing to his wolf tail that swayed freely behind him.

Bill nodded approvingly, “O-Of course! Right guys?” He looked at the others who all nodded with him.

“Yeah- oh my god, Eddie that’s terrible” Beverly’s eyes looked sad. She had been through her fair share of family troubles so she (almost) understood what Eddie was going through.

Ben nodded and gave her a solemn smile, carefully placing his hand on top of hers on the couch. He gave her hand a small squeeze that caused the corner of her lips to curl up a little. “Your secret is safe with us” He told them.

“Yeah of course! Losers stick together, right?” Mike’s tone changed a little. It was a little happier than the others which was a nice change.

“Right” Bill smiled.

“I’ve kept the secret this long, and I can’t really stop now” Stan stated as he sat up to put his elbows on his knees.

“Oh yeah- How did Stan find out before the rest of us?” Beverly piped up. Her hand turned over to lace her and Ben’s fingers together. The tips of Ben’s ears burned as he glanced down at them.

Richie had opened his mouth, ready to start talking but Stan spoke instead. “He lost his temper after I whooped his ass at checkers” Stan grinned proudly as he sat up tall. He got some good chuckels for that.

“Hey! You were so cheating” Richie protested as Eddie rolled his eyes from beside him.

“Whatever,” Stan waved his hand, “Your eyes still changed and your fangs came out” he reminded the wolf.

“Yeah we’re gonna have to practise that Chee” Eddie chimed in as he also recalled the various times Richie has wolfed out on him. Of course things would be easier now that Richie has now gone through his first full transformation but now he has to learn to control the shift. If not, that can lead to some very bad situations.

“Chee? Oh yeah forgot you guys are dating” Beverly smirked, “When did that start?” She wondered.

“It hasn't been that long” Richie blushed. He lovingly looked at his boyfriend and smiled.

A beat passed where the Losers just sat in comfortable silence. Bill was the first one to speak up and break the silence “Wuh-What about the Council?” He asked.

Eddie almost froze. After everything, he’s getting better at discussing the council, also seeing Elizah Brightmoon fall off a fucking cliff helped calm his nerves. “We took out Elizah… So I think we should be okay” He shrugged.

“But what about the rest of the council? They wouldn’t be called a council if it was just one person” Stanley pointed out.

“No, there are others. But what was she saying about a force to keep everyone in? And all that stuff about your dad” Richie didn’t dig too deep on the subject of Frank Kaspbrak as he knew it was still a sensitive topic for Eddie.

Eddie glanced away as he recalled an old memory, “The Council always wanted to keep The Ancestors safe. And once they had this crazy plan to make a forcefield so strong and powerful that it would basically forever separate the two worlds” He shivered at the thought. “My dad though… He fought it. It was a weak idea to begin with, they didn’t have the means to make something so powerful so it was an easy idea to dismantle. But what she said about my dad- I knew he had power, but a high priest? That’s a totally different level of power. And to think that I might be able to obtain some of that…” Eddie let his voice drift off as he looked down at his hands. Hoping that maybe they had the answers written there the whole time.

“What if they cuh-cuh-come after us?” Bill’s stutter intensified at the thought.

Richie shook his head, “They have no way of tying us to her death. Even if they do find that body it’ll be all raw and mangled” He smirked at the thought.

Eddie straightened up and looked around at his boyfriend and his closest friends, “But if they do- We’re The Losers, we’ll figure it out… We always do.”

The End

Word Count: 3266

Total word Count: 62623

Holly.Shit. Wow, I really can’t believe Everfalls is done, it’s over… This story was my first big fan fic for the IT fandom, and the funny thing is, this started off as a one shot. Literally! I found Shark Teeth on instagram and said I’d write a one shot about their art (with their permission ofc) and I got 44 pages in when my buddie, Reagan, pointed out that one shots are almost never that long. So I made it into a fan fic. And that fan fic was a truly amazing adventure and I’m oh so very happy with the final product and how everything turned out. I planned each chapter so carefully and made sure everyone was in character so I hope you guys liked it!

Thank you to my two amazing betas, Rose and Richie! You guys gave me feedback and your true opinions on each chapter and I truly appreciate both of you!

At the end of the day, I think it’s pretty fitting that I wrote this final chapter on the night of a full moon, it really added to the atmosphere.

Let me know if you’d like a sequel! I’ve got some ideas in mind but I’ve gotta make sure people want it before I start anything. So comment! IF over 15 people want more, then more they shall receive!

As this is the final chapter I’ve gotta remind you guys to go check out my other social medias, Instagram (Stellar.Cosplays), Tumblr, (stellar-cosplays), even my youtube (Alley’s World). Also don’t forget to check out my other fan fictions! Here’s my master list, or go check out my account and you’ll find them all there.

THis story means so much to me and I’m so happy I got to share it with you guys. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Once again, thank you all so much for everything.

For the final time, that’s all from me, catch you on the flip side.

So Long and Goodnight.

~

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck @aangzukos @ambitiousskychild @reddieonwheels @breadheadscorpius

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[toziersoneliners]

They Met In the Arcade... Kind Of | Richie Tozier x Reader

Richie hadn't met (Y/n) Hockstetter in the arcade. That had been their first proper meeting, sure, but he had seen her around before. She was infamous. Not because of something she'd done, but because of her older brother. Kids were mean, and kids talked. It was, in Vic Criss's own words, a miracle that she was even alive. It was a well-known fact that Patrick Hockstetter was a murderer, adults in Derry were just that oblivious to those kinds of things that happened in their town. Besides, Richie heard that Mrs. Hockstetter was a devout catholic, she probably couldn't stand the thought of her oldest child being responsible for her infant's death. While (Y/n) was only around two at the time, people just concluded that she too was a nut case. She wasn't, from what Richie could tell, she was just really quiet. He'd only heard her talk a hand full of time, all of which happened while they were in class. She was pretty though, that he had to admit. Like him, she had glasses. They didn't make her eyes obscenely big like his glasses did, but they were big enough to make her look like a cute little nerd.

Richie had realized a few weeks before winter break that he had a crush on a girl he knew nothing about. It was so stupid and he hated himself for it, but... fate was apparently on his side. When school let out, Patrick and the rest of Henry's goons decided to get their final lick in before summer fully started. It was a normal occurrence for the Losers, and that meant that none of them were expecting the usually quiet and polite (Y/n) to defend them. She had quietly walked over to Patrick, whispered something in his ear, and then the fools were on their ways. She had turned to Richie, giving him an almost bashful look before she walked away. Eddie, Stan, and Bill looked over at Richie with surprised expressions.

"Are... do you know her?" Stan questions, his eyebrows pinching together as he looks at the girl who was slowly walking towards the direction of the Derry Library. Richie pushes his glasses up on his nose, a heat rising on his cheeks as he looks over at the rest of the Losers.

"... no suh!" Richie answers, a sudden smile overcoming his face as he lets a bad impression fall from his big mouth.

♡

Richie had been in an oddly good mood ever since his run-in with Henry's goons, it had led to him having an encounter with his crush, so that was good. Now though, it was time for games. The Arcade was Richie's favorite place besides the Barrens or the Quarry. It was fun, being surrounded by games wherever you went.

Walking inside, Richie went looking for the Street Fighter game box before he stopped dead in his tracks. It wasn't Henry Bowers or Patrick Hockstetter. Richie didn't stop because of fear and he didn't stop because of the erratic beating in his chest was a bad feeling. He had stopped, hurriedly pushing up his glasses as he watches something that he'd never seen before. She was standing at the Pac-Man game, her (E/c) irises focused on the yellow creature as she moved the joystick. Richie knew it was her even though she had changed her clothes. She was wearing one of her brother's shirts, the long white one with that dumb cat face on it, simple shorts and tights, and of course, her red faded converse. Her backpack was slung over her shoulder, though it didn't look like it was weighing her down. The bag was half open and Richie could peak a coke bottle poking out along with something fuzzy inside of her bag.

It was a fleeting thought.

Was (Y/n) Hockstetter a gamer girl?

That had been Richie's thought before she was suddenly in front of him. They were eye-to-eye, and Richie could see her glasses slowly sliding down her nose. Being this close to her made a heat sneak up on Richie's neck for the second time that day. She was holding her bag close to her chest and it became obvious to Richie that she probably thought that he was a total creep. He had been standing in the middle of the Arcade just looking at her while she played her game and it made him seem like a total loser. That wasn't far from the truth, but still.

"Uh... hey?"

♡

"I'm surprised, you know." (Y/n) says, sipping from her coke bottle, a book in hand as she and Richie walk down the street together. He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had just got done telling her everything, obviously not the fact that he liked her because then Patrick Hockstetter would be on his ass even more than usual.

"What?" Richie asks, looking over at her, watching as she wipes off her glasses with the inside of the shirt she was wearing. She slipped them on, looking over at Richie.

"The fact that you want to be friends. Everyone thinks I'm a killer, I'm sure you know that, too. You're not stupid, Richie." (Y/n) says slowly, almost as though she was trying to form her words right. It made sense, the only person she seemed to talk to was Beverly Marsh and her older brother.

Richie flushes slightly, a small huff leaving him. Her statement made him feel like he owed her an explanation. He probably did, but if he was being honest... he just really wanted her to hang out with him. It wasn't because he was completely and totally in love with (Y/n) Hockstetter, it was just that he thought she was cool... and cute. Pushing his crush aside, like he knew he would have to because her brother was a total ass, Richie just wanted to be friends.

And she looked pretty willing too.

Alright, this is going to be a short story between the reader and Richie. It's going to be about awkward kids liking each other, and I might make a sequel for once they're in like high school or something. Let me know what you guys think!

[thelazyeye]

so not to be gay or anythin but i think ur my favorite reddie author. im keepin up with angels in outfields and nothing worth having n i cant remember the last time ive looked forward to fic updates this much. i love the way u write both of them, n like. i get embarrassed RLY easily. haaaate reading smut because of it. but yours is so well written n never seems outta place basically the point of this ask was to say hey, thanks for writing rly fuckin good content and also do u have any recs? /v\

Yes to be gay but I think I love you

Thank you SO much this is such a sweet ask??? Like, so fucking sweet. I’m blushing. I’m honored. I’m thrilled. Also, I have TONS of recs. Some of them are the really big hitters that may have slipped through the cracks when the fandom resurged. Those I’m putting at the very bottom of this list. There is plenty of NSFW stuff and some MCD stuff so please read all the tags and warnings before you read the fics if you’re sensitive!

Scorpion Grasses by PimpedOutGreenEars

“Tell everyone… Tell everyone I’ll miss them. And Eds, tell him… Just promise to call him Eds for me every once in a while. So he won’t forget me.”

On his last night in Derry Richie shares a bottle of red wine with Beverly. He makes promises to send letters he knows he won’t remember to write, cries a lot, and then ends it with the boy he loves who’s just dumb enough to love him back.

Dig Your Grave by queenjameskirk / @cryingbilldenbrough

The memories don’t go all at once, but they are gone eventually.

Richie forgets.

That’s Where You’ll Find Me series by piginawig / @bookeddie

27 years later, Eddie survives the battle in the sewers. Richie is there on his road to recovery.

Fast Car (Had A Feeling I Belonged) by marsisaplanet / @marsisaplanetyall

Eddie wants to get out of Derry, so does Richie. Together, they make their escape.

Don’t Meet Your Heroes by LadyBoBo / @bisexualgoblin 

Eddie falls in love with Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier when he is twenty-three years old. Of course, at this point, he hasn’t actually met him.

Eurydice; The Original Comeback Kid by Vulcanodon

Richie makes a deal with the devil and Derry pays the price. The Losers reunite to deal with the consequences.

“Behind him, almost imperceptible, he hears the footsteps. Richie’s heart jumps in his chest and he lets out a rush of air but before he can turn Pennywise is in his ear saying, REMEMBER RICHIE: DON’T LOOK BACK.

“Okay, okay.” Richie says, every muscle in his body aching to turn around. “Old school, I can dig it.”

Die Tomorrow, Do It Today by hikash0 / (In progress also it’s poly losers club)

In the winter of 1992 something goes very wrong with Derry’s water system. Infection and disease take root while ghosts from the past rise up to greet the living.

The Losers Club rely on each other to survive a zombie outbreak. Maybe it’s time to confess a few things.

Into The Dark by nb_richie (shipit)

Richie and Stan have seen and dealt with a lot of cases in the years they’ve been working together, from cults to cartels. A case in Derry, Maine, proves to be one of the most horrific for them and for the two local officers they’ll be working with. And on top of it all, Richie keeps remembering things he’d rather forget.

Even When I Lose, I’m Winning by Enj0ltaiRe / @tozierboy

“A comedian?” Eddie asked, downright horrified, as he looked up at Beverly Marsh, stopping his cup of coffee before it touched his lips. “No. Absolutely not. I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life than date a comedian.” He said, spitting the world out as if it had a bitter taste in his mouth.

Anything, Everything by deathstranded

They’re cuddled up together on the sofa one night, Eddie’s head resting on his collarbone, watching some trashy action flick, when Eddie, out of nowhere, says, “Um, is it normal, do you think, to like it when it hurts during sex?”

Eddie has a pain kink. Richie isn’t so sure.

Meet Me In The Graveyard by Oldguybones / @oldguybones (In Progress) 

After almost five years apart, the Losers club reunites to spend the weekend together at Mike’s lakeside cabin. Armed with booze and total solitude, the gang plans to make up for lost time and catch up with those who were once the most important people of their youths. Tensions fly as lost love is rekindled and friendships are divided. But they soon begin to realize that they are not alone. Someone or something is out for blood and will not rest until they get it. What will the Losers do?

Versions of the Same Mask by tinyarmedtrex / @tinyarmedtrex

When world famous actor Ben Hanscom goes missing his wife calls in two very different people to find him. Richie Tozier, a well known bounty hunter who ignores any rules except his own and Eddie Kaspbrak, an exemplary detective who prefers to work alone.

Blackbird by michelllejones / @michelllejones

“Ho-ly fuck,” Richie whispers, and Eddie has never been so fucking scared. Not when he saw the leper, not when he confronted his mother about his pills, not when they fought It in the sewers. Never. Eddie screws his eyes shut and clutches at the material of his jeans.

Please be too high to notice, please be too high to notice, please be too high to notice

“Eddie?”

5555 by weepies / @finnwolfhard

“I am not harmless,” Eddie had said, his eyes thundering—a challenge. “I could ruin your life.”

“I dare you,” Richie had replied, a smug smile on his face.

I Might Be Dreaming, I Might Be Dead by andthewasp / @andthwasp

Insomniac brain surgeon Eddie Kaspbrak lives in a world where people share dreams with their soulmate.

Tear It WIth Your Teeth by belby 

"We could leave this place, Eddie,” Richie says. “God, imagine that? Not having to live in this trash dump anymore. We could go wherever we wanted. A different place every night.”

The Love of the Loser’s Club series by tozier / @rebeccabunch

Loving so much it hurts is a rewarding and dreadfully terrible thing. Seven people who all grew up in the wrong place at the wrong time know this all too well, but wouldn’t give their love up for the world despite it. That might just be the only thing any of them have in common. They hope it’s enough.

[state-of-longing]

53 reddie pls?

This was a one-shot I had already half-written so thank you for this prompt! It got me to finish a year old WIP. I hope you like it. Keep an eye out for a few references from The OC.

53. “Are you jealous? That’s cute.”

‘I don’t like him.’

‘Who? Tony?’

‘Oh, is that his name?’

‘Beep beep, Richie...’ It was quite early in the school day for Beverly to be exasperated with him, it didn’t usually happen until after the lunch bell. She was resting her head on her locker, trying to find some relief as Richie spoke animatedly in her ear.

‘I thought his name was Gerald...’

‘Richie —’

‘Or Assface. It’s easy to get those confused.’

Richie hadn’t met Tony, he only knew that he transferred to Derry High a week ago and was sitting next to Stan in AP History. He didn’t even know he’d been introduced to the other Losers until two seconds ago when he saw them all congregated in front of Stan’s locker.

‘Don’t do this Richard...’

‘Do what, my dear?’

But now he’d seen Tony talking to all of his friends as though he’d known them for years. And something about the whole scene just bothered him. Something about the way Eddie was hanging on to his every word made him incredibly annoyed...

‘Don’t get jealous of the new kid.’

‘Jealous? Who’s jealous? Why would I be jealous of Joseph?’

‘Oh, so you don’t care that Eddie is hanging onto his every word right now?’

That was the annoying part about talking to Beverly Marsh, she always saw through the bullshit. Even though she’d hit the nail right on the head, Richie would never admit that to her. He’d never admit that the thought of Eddie enjoying anyone else’s company, especially that of someone who was ‘conventially’ attractive and kind of smart, bothered him. Not at all. So instead, Richie did what he’d perfected over the years - he deflected.

‘Smoke another bowl, Molly Ringwald—’

‘I fucking hate when you —’

‘— I don’t care that Eddie thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. I care about my friends and I just don’t trust that guy.’

‘Give me one reason why?’

‘...his eyes are too close together.’

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘And the guy has 20/20 vision? What the fuck is up with that?’

Before Richie could continue on his tirade about assholes who don’t wear glasses, he was interrupted by obnoxiously loud laughter coming from the group by Stan’s locker.

This was a development that was disturbing to Richie for two reasons:

1. Stan was laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard Stanley ‘Urine’ laugh. Ever. And he’d known that kid his whole life. It wasn’t even a little polite chuckle hidden behind a hand or that handkerchief he kept in his back pocket. This was a giant belly laugh that echoed down the hallway. It was a laugh that took over his whole body and made his curls bounce. Stan Uris was fucking snorting with laughter.

2. Eddie was bent over, leaning on Bill’s shoulder as he too was overcome with laughter. Even more horrifying was that when he stood back up he had tears streaming down his cheeks. The sight felt like being punched in the gut. The only time he’d ever seen Eddie laugh like that was because of a joke Richie had made. Eddie only laughed like that at his jokes.

As far as he could tell, this Tony asshole wasn’t even telling a real zinger. Instead, he was walking up and down the hall doing some stupid bird impression. His arms were wings and his legs were bent at the knees as he waddled around. That impression was really that funny?

Richie knew from experience that he couldn’t take the rest of his friend’s reactions as any indicator for how funny this guy was. Bill was chuckling but ole’ Big Bill had never told a joke in his entire life. Sweet Haystack was so nice he would laugh just out of politeness. Richie wished Mike went to school with them because that guy was at least an arbiter of comedic taste.

‘Wow, Tony is pretty funny,’ Beverly sounded far too amused as she picked at lint on Richie’s shirt.

That comment also ruled out Bev.

‘No he’s not. Why would you say that?’

She smiled knowingly and Richie shook away her fussing hands. He hated that smile and the power it held over him. How did she just know everything?

‘Just the laughs coming from Eddie. And Stan. Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Stan laugh.’

‘He’s not funny.’

The laughing continued as Tony continued his impression and relished in the group’s attention. The guy was driving the joke into the ground. What an amateur.

‘He’s big. That’s not necessarily funny’, Richie continued and tried to distract himself from the dull ache in his chest as he watched Eddie follow the group towards their next class. His eyes were shining, cheeks flushed from all the laughter and Richie wished he had caused it. ‘And the guy does impressions? That’s just so cheap.’

‘Richie. All you do is impressions,’ Beverly’s smile faded as she closed her locker and turned to face him. Richie had a sneaking suspicion his poker face wasn’t holding up.

He really couldn’t handle the pity today.

‘Got any smokes Red? I need to get outta here.’

——

Richie had been trying to study for his physics quiz for over two hours and nothing was sinking in. All he had been able to think about all night was Eddie and that laugh. Daydreaming about Eddie wasn’t a new pastime for Richie, he’d been doing it since he was 13 years old, but this time he felt something else.

Something that made all of his ugly insecurities rise up like bile in his throat. Kicking back from his desk, giving up on studying altogether, he stood in front of his full-length mirror and sighed. This was as good as it was gonna get.

Mr ‘I Have One Impression and Will Ram It Down Your Throat’ was conventionally handsome, Richie supposed. He seemed the type who liked participating in school sports unironically and he had the build to match. He was tan and had effortlessly styled hair that just screamed cool and casual.

Richie was almost seventeen and still hadn’t grown into his limbs. He was all gangly bones and arms and legs. He was so pale that if sun touched any part of his skin he burned to a crisp. That meant he copped an earful from Eddie who was always chastising him for not wearing sunscreen. His hair now ruefully curled in a way that was nowhere near cool or casual. Just messy.

On impulse, just to see if any definition had taken over his body or he’d suddenly been bitten by a radioactive spider, Richie pulled off his t-shirt. Nope, still shaped like a beanpole. He could see why Eddie would pay slightly more attention to Tony. Maybe tall, tan and unfunny was what Eddie was into. Maybe that’s who he wanted as a best friend now.

Or more. God, it hurt to think he could be wanting more...

‘Do you want some alone time with yourself?’

Richie was so wrapped up in his own pity party he hadn’t heard Eddie climb up the stairs to his bedroom. Richie’s parents were so used to Eddie hanging out at their house they just let him in now without question. That meant Richie was often caught in painful moments like this.

He was going to say something back, maybe a joke from his back catalogue about jacking off to thoughts of Eddie’s mom, but then he realised his shirt was off. Richie thought he saw a blush come across Eddie’s cheeks as he scanned his bare torso but a wave of embarrassment overtook those thoughts and he clumsily pulled his shirt back on.

‘Jeez Eds, take a picture next time. It’ll last longer.’

As he pulled the shirt over his head, glasses askew in his haste, he saw Eddie flip him off in the reflection of the mirror. Then he flung himself onto Richie’s bed, grabbing a comic book and making himself comfortable like he always did.

Richie took a moment to admire him under the guise of looking in the mirror. He forgot Eddie was wearing that blue collared shirt today...that was definitely a favourite.

‘Where were you this afternoon?’ Eddie’s voice cut through and Richie jumped, mortified that once again he’d gotten caught up in thoughts of his best friend.

‘Ditched with Bev. Hung out down at the quarry for a bit.’

‘Did you forget we were supposed to do something after school? I had no excuse to skip out on dinner with Sonia.’

Richie hadn’t forgotten. He normally took any excuse to spend more time with Eddie after school. But he’d felt like being petty today. Richie let out a huff and sat down on the bed, his knees knocking into Eddie’s just to annoy him.

‘Oh, you didn’t hang out with Larry today?’

Eddie frowned, the wheels in his head turning as he put down the comic. ‘Who the fuck is Larry?’

Richie just shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as he too picked up a comic and pretended to flick through the pages. If Eddie didn’t know who Richie was talking about then maybe he didn’t think he was so memorable...

‘Wait, do you mean Tony? The guy from Stan’s history class?’

...or not.

Richie rolled his eyes and continued to look down, ‘Oh is that his name? I thought it was Jim Carrey...’

A feeling of white-hot annoyance ran down Richie’s spine and he continued spitefully when Eddie didn’t respond.

‘You know since he’s such a fan of physical comedy.’

‘Are you jealous?’ Eddie scoffed out, pushing Richie’s arm so he dropped the comic and had to look at him. His eyes were shining mischievously in the dim light of the bedroom and any thoughts of annoyance left Richie immediately. ‘That’s cute.’

Richie had to remember to catch his breath at the sight of him. Did he just say cute? Cute. That’s cute. He’s cute...

But then Eddie started to laugh, bringing Richie back to reality and any feeling of hope was squashed immediately. Richie tried to recover by pushing him back onto the bed as he continued to giggle.

‘Well, you thought he was fucking hilarious...’

‘Because he made Stan laugh! Stan! His snort was the highlight of my day!’

‘So you were laughing at Stan?’

‘Well yeah...like we always do. Tony’s bird impression wasn’t really funny. Like he’s big but big isn’t funny.’

Richie’s heart soared as Eddie decided the conversation was over and snatched up the comic he had dropped.

‘That’s exactly what I thought.’

Richie couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he tried to control his heart rate. So much for a poker face, he was too happy. A small smile also graced Eddie’s features and he paused before opening the latest X-Men.

‘You have a smudge on your glasses again, doofus. How do you even see out of these things?’

Without hesitating, Eddie grabbed the frames off Richie’s face and started cleaning them with the bottom of his shirt. Richie couldn’t see a damn thing but knew his cheeks were burning in a way he couldn’t control.

‘So how about tomorrow? We could go to the arcade we haven’t been there in a while.’

Richie broke out his trance and quickly snatched his glasses back before Eddie could notice his hands start shaking. An overwhelming feeling of powerlessness and shame ran through his veins in a cold trickle. He hadn’t been back to that place in so long. He didn’t want to start now.

‘Nah Eds, the arcade is for babies,’ Richie cleared his throat and swallowed down the need to throw up. Before Eddie could protest he quickly continued, ‘How about we rent a movie? We can watch it in your room so I can pop in for some sweet lovin’ with Mrs K.’

Eddie looked concerned for a brief moment before frowning in disgust. Richie breathed out in relief, hoping he’d changed that subject for the time being. Deflection- it was his speciality nowadays.

‘Sure thing, asshole. Is The Mask available to rent?’ Eddie smiles knowingly and any feeling of hopelessness disappears from Richie’s mind for a moment. Only Eddie can do that to him.

‘Nice callback. You, me and Jim Carrey - it’s a date.’

And that slipped out so fast that Richie didn’t even have time to panic. He just had to play it cool and ignore the way his heart beat wildly in his chest.

But when he looked over at Eddie, he was smiling to himself, a slight flush taking over his cheeks.

‘See, now that’s funny.’

send me a prompt or request. i write reddie, mileven and jopper.

[eddie-boii]

Never Let You Go (part 10/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. It’s time!! The wedding is happening!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

*

The fresh snow glittered on the ground in the morning light, millions of tiny diamonds twinkling up at the Losers as they walked across the frozen garden. The trees towered over them as they passed through the bordering woodland, their branches weighed down with piles of white, frost curling across the trunks in patterns so intricate and complex that only nature could have created them. They came to a clearing where an arch stood up ahead, woven from willow branches and interlaced with white flowers. It stood before four white chairs, placed neatly in two lines either side of a long silver carpet, and bordering the whole arrangement stood rows of flaming torches glowing a bright vermillion, stark against the white scenery as they burned their winter fire. Embers rose from the flickering flames, rising up in the January sky like thousands of fireflies performing a mesmerizing dance.

Eddie stood gaping at the whole thing until Ben nudged him.

“Think we overdid it?” he asked a little sheepishly.

“No,” said Eddie. “It’s perfect.”

Ben smiled, the light from the fires reflecting in his eyes. “Thanks, man.”

Ben went to stand by the arch while Eddie, Bill and Mike went a little distance away behind the cover of some trees to wait for the others. Mike had Ember on a leash; Bev’s aunt had brought her that morning and she’d be bearing the rings in a little bag attached to her collar. It was kind of adorable.

The soft sound of snow crunching beneath feet alerted them to the arrival of the other Losers. The trio emerged from the trees, huddled closely together in thick coats for warmth. Eddie was momentarily caught off guard by Richie; he had a few little braids woven into his hair and… Was he wearing eyeliner? Eddie hated how good it looked on him.

“Can we getting a fucking move on before I freeze to death?” said Richie as soon as he saw them, snapping Eddie out of his little trance.

“The mm-m-minister isn’t here yet,” said Bill.

“Change of plan,” said Stan. “I’m performing the wedding. See you guys in a bit.” And with that, he rushed off to join Ben by the arch.

“Well shit,” said Mike. “Who am I walking with?”

“Why does everyone forget that I have two hands?” said Richie. “Unless Eddie doesn’t want to share?” he added with a wink.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” said Eddie, ignoring the part of him that really was protesting about sharing. “And take off your coat so we can start.”

“Ooh la la, you want me to strip?”

“Just the coat, dickwad.”

Richie finally pulled off his coat to reveal the outfit beneath, and Eddie stared at him.

“I know, I know, I’m hot as fuck,” said Richie.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, then coughed loudly when everyone’s attention snapped to him. “Um… I mean- You look okay I guess,” he stuttered, feeling his face burn. Thank god Stan wasn’t there to give him one of those looks, though Bev was doing a good job of doing it for him. “Come on, are we ready to go or not?”

“Just a second,” said Bev, and she slipped off her coat.

Beneath she was a ballgown of deep, midnight blue, the colour fanning down from the waist in intricately crafted vines before fading into a pearlescent white that blended with the snow at her feet, and flecks of the same white fanned across the sweetheart bodice like snowflakes on a winters night.

“How do I look?” she said.

“Beautiful.”

“Stunning.”

“Breathtaking.”

“Oh, my boys,” said Bev, smiling at each of them with so much love in her eyes. “I don’t deserve any of you.”

“I thh-think it’s the other way round,” said Bill. He stepped up beside her and held out his arm. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” said Bev, threading her arm through his.

Walking the bride down the aisle was a tradition usually left to the father, but Alvin Marsh deserved no such honour, even if he was still alive. Instead, that right went to Bill Denbrough, the unspoken leader of the Losers Club, who united them all those years ago, without whom the group never would have been such close friends. Without him, who was to say whether Bev and Ben would have grown so close? Without him, who was to say there would even be a wedding now?

“Come on, guys, let me steal your body heat,” said Richie, wedging himself between Eddie and Mike and threading their arms together. “Let’s roll, people!”

Richie, Eddie and Mike led the way back through the trees to the setup, situating themselves so they’d obscure Bev from Ben’s view until the last minute. At the arch, Stanley slipped a flute from his pocket and pressed it to his lips, and the sweet melody of the wedding march rang out across the clearing. Mike crouched down and released Ember from her leash and she pounced down the aisle, the bag of rings jangling at her collar, and she sat obediently at Ben’s feet, her tail wagging wildly and wafting snow all over his shoes. He leant down briefly to pet her head, smiling affectionately.

Then it was the turn of the best men and man of honour. Eddie tried not to focus on the fact that he was walking down a wedding aisle with Richie fucking Tozier. And Mike, sure, but it was Richie’s arm he held, Richie who’s side was pressed up against him, who’s leg kept brushing his as they walked. Eddie chanced a glance up and found Richie already looking down at him. He grinned, and Eddie returned his smile, and then they were at the end of the aisle and Eddie had to reluctantly release his arm so they could take their seats.

And then, at last, it was time for the bride to walk down the aisle. Beverly looked radiant, of course, positively glowing with excitement, and Bill looked so proud beside her. But instead of watching them, Eddie turned to watch Ben lay eyes on his bride for the first time. And, god, the love was shining from him, overflowing and flooding out across the whole clearing, bathing them all in its warmth. Beverly Marsh, his first love, the first person in that new town who’d shown him kindness, the first person who made him feel like he was deserving of friendship, the one person he’d never truly forgotten in those long twenty-seven years. And here she was, walking down the aisle towards him, ready to announce that they’d spend the rest of their lives together. 

Bill guided Bev up to the arch before taking a seat behind Richie as Stan slipped the flute back into his pocket, and Ben and Bev stood before each other at last, gazing at one another like if either of them looked away it might turn out to have all been a dream.

“Sorry I’m not all dressed in white,” Bev whispered.

“You’re beautiful,” said Ben breathlessly, voice cracking over the words. He laughed it off, swallowing and blinking back tears. “Crap, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry until the end.”

Beverly laughed, tears in her eyes too, and reached over to hold his hand, her thumb brushing over his fingers. “Take it away, Stanley,” she said. “Before we all freeze to death.”

“Dearly beloved,” Stan began, “we are gathered here today to witness the union of Beverly Marsh and Benjamin Hanscom. I’m hoping you prepared your own vows because I do not have all the words memorised.”

Mike stood briefly to pass Ben a slip of paper and he unfolded it with shaking hands.

During the second ceremony, the one where they’d be surrounded by family and colleagues, they’d be reciting the traditional vows. But this was a moment for just their friends to hear, where they could speak their hearts openly and without fear, where they had nothing to hide. This was a moment for just the Losers.

“Beverly Marsh,” he began, voice shaking just as much as his hands, “there are no words to describe how much I love you, but I am so, so glad I’m going to have the rest of my life with you to show you. We’ve lost so much time, and I know we can’t get those twenty-seven years back, but I promise you’ll I’m going to make it all up to you and show you every day just how much you mean to me. You were my first crush, my first friend, and I still can’t believe I’m standing here today. We’ve been through so much, but I wouldn’t change any of it if it meant I wouldn’t be by your side. I love you, Beverly. I always have, and I always will.”

Beverly smiled like she couldn’t contain it, her whole face glowing with love. She subtly brushed tears away with her thumb as Ben passed his vows back to Mike, then she beckoned Richie over to retrieve her own vows from him.

She waited patiently while Ben gathered himself together, blinking away tears and swallowing thickly against the lump in his throat. He smiled at her when he was ready, though it was a little wobbly, and she smoothed out her piece of paper.

“Benjamin Hanscom,” she said, “you have single-handedly restored my faith in men. I won’t go into the details because everyone here already knows and I’d rather not bring all that up when this is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but you showed me that even though the world can be an awful place, kindness still exists. I never thought I could ever deserve someone as wonderful as you, but you’ve made me believe in myself again, you made me see myself as someone who deserves happiness and no one has ever done that for me before. You make me happier than I ever thought possible, and I only wish I’d seen all the good in you sooner. I wish we hadn’t lost so many years, but I’m so glad we have so many more to make up for it. I love you so much, Ben.” 

She paused, smiling up at him, her eyes bright pools of green speckled with the red reflections of the firelight.

“I guess,” she said, “there’s just one last thing to say.” She folded the paper, passed it to Stan, and stepped closer to Ben, taking both his hands in hers. She tilted her head back to look up at him, green eyes meeting brown. He smiled at her with trembling lips and she squeezed his hands.

“Your eyes,” she began, “are summer light,

“July promises,

“My heart belongs to you.”

Ben laughed once, half surprise and half a sob, tears flowing freely down his face now.

“You one-upped me,” he said, voice hoarse even as he grinned. “My vows seem shit now.”

“My poetry skills are shit,” Bev laughed. “You did way better than me.”

“No way, that was amazing. I want it inscribed on my gravestone.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“We’re not done yet guys,” Stan interrupted, rolling his eyes. “We need the rings.”

“Come here, girl,” said Ben, crouching down to retrieve the rings from Ember’s pouch. She licked the tears of his face as he did so and he laughed, wiping the slobber from his face with the back of his hand. He stood and passed Bev one of the rings, and they took it in turns to slip them onto the other’s fingers.

“Alright,” said Stan. “Ben, do you take Bev to be your lawfully wedding wife in sickness and in health, et cetera?”

“I do,” said Ben, eyes already full of tears again.

“And Bev, do you take Ben as your husband?”

“I do.”

“Then, by the powers vested in me,” said Stan, “I now pronounced you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Ben pulled Bev in, though they were both grinning so much they could barely kiss properly, and the Losers all stood and cheered loud enough to be heard from the hotel. They only gave the couple a second before rushing to them. Richie got there first, tackling them in a hug, and the others joined in until Ben and Bev were squeezed together in the middle of the Losers, all of them laughing and crying. Eddie caught Richie’s eyes and grinned at him, neither mentioning how red the other’s eyes were. 

Bev and Ben were right; the Losers had lost twenty-seven years of each other, had spent twenty-seven years with a gap in their lives, but each one of them had made it out the other side, whole and alive, and they had to rest of their lives to make up for that lost time.

*

Previous Next

[tklpilled]

feelings

summary: beverly has been targeting them all. it’s ben’s turn, now.

a/n: first, the title is shit because i came up with it in 0.05 seconds bc otherwise i wouldn’t have a title. second, kinda short but what else is new. also there isn’t much plot bc i ran out of creativity ten years ago. third, its not rlly that much tickling than “ben having a crush on bev for fifteen minutes” but theres still tickling in it because who do you think i am. fourth, this is for @ticklishraspberries’s wonderful losers club tickle fic week, for ben’s day! please enjoy :00

—

Ben knows he was going to be next. It’s only a matter of time before Bev comes after him. She’s been sneaking up on all the other losers, quick and skilled fingers forcing them into an incoherent mess. It, of course, started with Richie, and now Ben is the only one left.

First it was Richie, because he deserved it and as much as he denies it, he does enjoy it, and because he’s the most ticklish of all of them, which made him such an easy target, and then it was Eddie, because he wouldn’t shut the fuck up, and then Stan and Bill and Mike and now, apparently, Ben.

He knows it’s coming. He isn’t prepared for it, though.

When Bev shoots him a grin and slides closer to him on the floor of the clubhouse, he feels a fluttering in his abdomen and a nervous smile makes its way to his lips.

He’s about to ask what she’s doing, even though he knows the answer, but it cut of by her hands reaching out and giving his sides a few small squeezes.

He quickly bursts into breathy giggles, grabbing her wrist but not pushing her away. She doesn’t acknowledge it, instead focusing on finding a more sensitive spot.

Each place she tries gives a different reaction. Light fluttering at his neck causes his shoulders to scrunch up and his giggles to rise in pitch, scribbling behind his knees results in squeals, but his wiggling fingers on his stomach creates snorts and full-on laughter.

So, that’s where she turns her attention to.

Ben’s cheeks turn red at the realisation that everyone else is watching, comforted slightly by the fact that a, they’re friends, and b, they’ve all been subjected to this as well.

Ben isn’t too sure about his laugh. He tries his best to be confident in himself, but it’s so hard when Henry Bowers and people like him make it their goal to ruin his self-esteem. His laugh is part of that. But he notices when Bev nearly stopped her tickling when she first heard it, and how even Richie has a fond smile on his face, it makes him feel so much better.

Then he can’t think anymore, because Bev’s attack is getting too unbearable and her presence so close to him is bringing heat to his face and he nearly begs her to quit it, but he doesn’t.

He stops himself because of her smile, the mischievous shine in her eyes, the way her short curls bob up and down as she laughs with him. It’s not that he isn’t having fun, it’s that she is.

But it’s getting slightly too much.

His hand is still on her wrist. He doesn’t remove her, but he gives her arm a gentle push. “Plehehehease, noho more!” He chokes out through his mirth.

Bev’s hands still slightly, still moving but not as intensely. “Do you really want me to stop?” She asks, concern just barely reaching her voice. She wouldn’t cross any lines that she knows exist.

“Kinda?” He tells her, breathless. For a moment, they both stare into the other’s eyes, faces flushing at the realisation of their position, forgetting about their friends until Stan clears his throat and brings them back to Earth.

“Do you wanna play this game we got?” He asks.

They do, and Bev gives him a few more pokes when he cheats (and when he doesn’t).

Ben is so lucky to be friends with Beverly Marsh.