#also Ben just being so fucking cute with his blue eyes and smile walking w/ paul w/ some ice cream

[tinkerbelldetective]

Ice Cream Headcanons for the Manhattan DA Office

Ben: Vanilla Ice Cream with Rainbow Sprinkles OR some funky strawberry

Paul: Peanut Butter Cup but he can roll with just about anything, including rainbow sherbert

Jack: Coffee ice cream or Banana Split

Adam: A simple chocolate

Branch: Salted caramel

Serena Southerlyn: Banana

Alex Borgia: Chocolate and Vanilla Twist or blue moon

Connie: Hot Fudge Sundae or a nice vanilla cone or Black Cherry

Mike: Vanilla with rainbow sprinkles OR Chocolate Raspberry

[pascalpanic]

Miller Morales Mechanic Shop (Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

Part One of Miller Morales Mechanic Shop

Summary: Something is wrong with your car. What, exactly? You have no clue. So you bring it in to some professionals- who also have a toddler running around the shop.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, Frankie is a dad, brief mention of divorce and trauma bc poor Frankie, there is a child heavily involved in this so if you don’t like kids this isn’t for you :)

A/N: WELCOME TO PART ONE EVERYONE! This is such a cute AU and I’m BEYOND excited to start sharing it with you all! I don’t know how many parts this will be or anything but I can’t wait to take it and run with it.

Marisol Morales behaves for very few people. One of those is Ben Miller. Unfortunately, she has decided to break her own rules today.

Frankie loves summer. He loves his little girl playing outside in her baby pool, taking her for walks around the neighborhood with their three-legged dog, all of the fun parts. The hard part is when the nanny goes on a vacation and Mari has to come to work with him.

Benny and Frankie, ever since the chaos that was the Lorea mission, run a small mechanic shop together. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop isn’t necessarily the busiest place in town, but they make enough to get by and have some disposable income too. Mari loves to hang around the shop with her daddy and uncle. She’s there more than Frankie would like, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing in the world. When Frankie and Jules split and Frankie won full custody, he’d hoped a nanny would take care of most everything when Mari is home all day in summer. Sadly, he was in for a rude awakening when no Mary Poppins showed up on his doorstep.

It’s normally not too bad; Benny hung the moon in Mari’s eyes. If she won’t do something for her daddy, which is still somewhat rare, she’ll always do it for her Uncle Benny. That makes the day run much smoother. Mari has a whole host of quiet-time activities and toys to play with, and the men generally trade off periods of either working on the cars or being with the little girl.

Her favorite activities at the shop include drawing on the concrete with thick sticks of chalk and playing with her toy helicopters and planes. Benny insists tanks are cooler, but Mari prefers flying her Polly Pockets in the chopper, running through the garage and making flight noises. She’s a smart little thing; for her age, she’s picked up big words and can make sentences out of three words, which is quite a stretch for a baby just over two years of age. She calls for Benny and Daddy and knows the names of his tools: wench, scu-dwive, and her favorite, win-seeled wipe fwuid. She loves to babble at customers while they get their oil changed.

-

Being shit with cars is no fun. It only increases the anxiety when some light flashes on your dashboard. The lights can mean so many things that you find it ridiculous; “check engine”? Check it for what? To save yourself the anxiety, you find your nearest mechanic and pay them to deal with it.

Today, as you pull over into a gas station, you check your phone and find that the nearest shop is a place you haven’t heard of. It must be new. Miller Morales Mechanic Shop, 0.6 miles away. The name implies something more local and homegrown. You’re more than willing to support a place like that, so you start up the engine, pray you don’t explode, and make your way over to the shop.

It’s nearby, like the map indicated. The outside is a quaint little place, tucked in a strip mall next to a coffee shop, a dentist, and an insurance agency. The three car bays are empty, and knowing next to nothing about how these shops work, you pull inside and park your car, letting it run as you wait for an employee. The bell dinged to let them know you were here, so you stay patient and listen idly to the hum of the talk radio show from your car’s speakers.

After a minute or two pass, you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right place to be. Maybe you were supposed to go in the front or something. Concluding that you probably aren’t where you’re supposed to be, you turn off the car and get out only to be greeted by the sound of buzzing lips.

You can hear a baby’s voice, mimicking some kind of vehicle’s sound, and for a second you’re worried this place must have you hearing things. Then, from a swinging door to the front comes a little girl, running and babbling to herself about her toy helicopter.

She has a head full of dark brown curls, tied back into two puffs with pink scrunchies, and matching pink leggings and a t-shirt far too big for her, the back emblazoned with the shop’s logo. She’s barefoot, tiny feet slapping against the cold cement.

“I told you I had to piss, Fish!” A man’s voice shouts from one end of the garage.

“No you didn’t, dipshit!” Another man shouts back. Being caught in the middle of their argument is quite comical, if you’re being honest with yourself. “She’s fucking two! You can’t leave her alone like that, man!”

The first voice is matched to a person as a tall blonde man emerges from the customer service side of the shop. “Marisol Morales, come here,” he insists sternly as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “Come on, you’re gonna trip.” Ben is embroidered on a patch over his heart.

She pouts at him before stumbling forward and continuing to run, stopping as she sees you and looking up in confusion. Her lower lip sticks out in a pout as her eyes scan your face, as if she’s trying to remember if she knows who you are. “Hi,” she finally concedes as you bend to her level.

“Hi there,” you smile and hold out a hand. “What’s your name?” You pick her up, holding her on your hip so that she doesn’t trip, like Ben so desperately feared.

The second, unknown voice shouts for the little girl again before boots clunk on concrete up to you, rounding your car and stopping. This must be the girl’s father, you realize, as you rake your eyes up his body. He wears the same navy blue jumpsuit as the other man, though it’s unsnapped over his chest, exposing the white t-shirt beneath. The patch on his chest reads Catfish. He wears a ball cap and warm brown curls peek out from under it. He has scruff and a hooked nose that perfectly matches the one on the little girl. “I Mari,” she introduces herself proudly.

“Hey, leave her alone, Mar,” the man shakes his head as he hoists her up to hold her on his hip. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says with an embarrassed smile, showing a dimple beneath the scruff on his chin.

“No, it’s not a problem,” you laugh then set her down and tell the little girl your name. “Aren’t you just the cutest?” You chuckle as she looks at you. She blushes and buries her face in the man’s chest, giggling shyly.

He looks down at the little girl then up at you again. “Well, uh, hi. I’m Frankie, and you’ve met Mari already.”

“Your daughter?” you ask as you look at the pudgy little girl, who now stares at you in awe.

Frankie nods and adjusts his ball cap, pushing his hair back with it. “Yep. Our nanny is on vacation, so she gets to hang out around here,” he chuckles and kisses her head, setting her down. “Go see Benny, yeah?” He asks her. She happily waddles off towards the blonde man, who gives you a wave then heads into the back. “What brings you in?”

“Would you laugh if I told you I don’t really know?” You admit with a shy smile. “My check engine light came on while I was on the highway. I don’t know the first thing about cars, so I was hoping you’d figure out what that meant.”

“Nah, no laughing here,” he nods and gives you a genuine smile before looking over at your car. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ll have you pop the hood for me and I’ll give it a look?” He asks.

“That would be great. Thank you,” you tell him, the desperation for his help in your voice. Now that you get the chance to really look at him, he’s quite attractive. His eyes are deep set and a beautiful brown, and they crinkle when he smiles. Facial expressions only accentuate the lines in his face, but he’s certainly not old. His eyes still hold his youth.

“No problem.” He leads you to the car and you pop the hood open before getting out. “Could I take your keys?” he asks you. “Just so I can turn it on and off and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod frantically and hand them over to him. “I’ll… be in the waiting room?”

“That’s how we usually do it,” he chuckles as he takes the keys from you. “Just shout for Benny if Mari annoys you again.”

That makes you frown. “She’s not annoying at all. She’s adorable,” you smile as you look over your shoulder and see her and the blonde man playing together.

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he laughs and points his wrench at you as he walks to the hood of the car.

Shaking your head, you can’t help but laugh as you head back to the waiting room. You walk in and Mari perks up, turning to look at you. “Hi! Playing helicopter,” she tells you in her stunted speech as she holds up the toy.

“You sure are,” you nod and sit next to her. “Can I play?” You ask, looking up at Benny, silently asking him the question too.

He nods and Mari squeals happily. “Friend!” She shrieks and hands you another helicopter. “Go pew pew, okay?” She drags them across the toy mat like they’re cars, and you follow suit.

“Okay,” you laugh. Looking up at the blonde man, you extend a smile his way and introduce yourself. He’s busy repairing a Barbie dollhouse with a screwdriver.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ben, Benny, whatever you wanna call me.”

Driving your helicopter around the ground, following Mari’s lead, you chuckle. “No preference?”

“Fish calls me Benny.”

“Fish?” You ask and tip your head.

“Frankie, whatever. We’re buddies from the service. His code name was Catfish,” the man explains with a shrug, testing the hinges of the plastic door.

That makes you smile down at Frankie’s daughter. “Really, just buddies? Could’ve sworn you’d be brothers,” you tease the blonde, blue-eyed man. “Does Frankie know how to do his daughter’s hair?” You ask and fiddle with her two pigtails.

“Yes, he does,” Frankie insists as he walks out to the front, cleaning a wrench. “But just barely.”

You look up at him, embarrassed. “Her pigtails just look a little messy. Then again, she was running around like crazy,” you laugh and watch her rush over to Frankie, insisting he pick her up.

Bending down to grab her, Frankie groans at the ache in his joints. “She was. I could use some pointers, if you’ve got ‘em.”

“Of course,” you nod and stand too, brushing the dust from the concrete floor off on your pants. “What’s the verdict on the car?” You ask.

Frankie turned, watching as Benny walks out to the shop, but he turns back to face you. “Oh, right. The engine was misfiring, and unburned fuel was being put into the exhaust system, and that damaged the catalytic converter.”

You nod as you listen to him, really staring at his face more than anything. He’s just so damn pretty, you note as you admire the curve of his nose, his slightly sunken and dark eyes. His lips look beautiful and soft, even though they seem a little chapped. When he stops talking, it takes you a second to process it. “I don’t know what that means,” you admit with a shy smile. “I told you. I don’t know shit about cars,” you laugh, playing it off like you were lost when you were really lost in his eyes.

He shakes his head and laughs, bouncing Mari on his hip. “Your car is gonna need some work. Couple hours,” he shrugs. “If Benny and I get to working on it together, an hour and a half, maybe?” He admits.

“Yeah, that’s great. I can watch Mari,” you offer.

Frankie would never be this trusting normally. You’re a straight-up stranger, but your demeanor is good enough for him. Besides, you’re right here. He can check on the two of you every so often, and Mari seems to love you. “That would be great,” he smiles. “You really don’t have to.”

“No, I have nothing better to do,” you chuckle and look at the little girl. “You wanna play?”

Mari nods excitedly and Frankie sets her down. She rushes back to her toy mat and you watch her go. “Thank you, again, for fixing all this.”

“Just doing my job,” he nods. This time, it’s his turn to admire you. He stares at your face, examining the curves and angles that make you up. Your eyes are kind and warm as they follow the little girl, and he can see that he’s making a good choice here.

When you sit down, Mari comes and sits cross-legged across from you. “What are we gonna play?” You ask her, looking at her wide variety of toys. Her pile includes dinosaurs, Matchbox cars, lots of toy helicopters and planes, Barbie dolls, and a plastic tea set.

“Tea party!” She says and hands you a tiny plastic cup and a felt muffin.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasp in a fake accent. “How delightful!”

Frankie peeks over his shoulder at the two of you. He could really get used to that sight.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs

[tooinlovewithfictionalpeople]

The Five times She met the Hargreeves- Five Hargreeves

Plot: Fives wife has been looking for him for ages, and she is not so happy about it, although she meets his fellow siblings along the way (Fluff and cuteness mainly)

Cammie was dangerous. In-fact she was well known for being the most ruthless assassin the commission has. Her abilities made her quick, her training made her agile, he mind made her strong. She never played by the rules. But if you saw under the fact she could kill you within the blink of an eye, she was a sweetheart. Her heart was made of gold, she was soft and kind the kind of girl thought to be made of honey and glass. 

However, not playing by the rules, lead the Handler to become fed up with the bright bubbly girl so she threw her to the end of the world with nothing to ‘harden’ her up. Unfortunately for the Handler that is how Camille Winters met Five Hargreeves and the two became inseparable - unstoppable - the perfect duo.

There were moments where Cammie was willing to murder Five Hargreeves, and that was the day he got the equations wrong.

                                                           ***

It was a cold Thursday night when Allison Hargreeves was talking with her friends about the revolution in the hair salon. It was like any other day.

Until  - with a loud crash, the door was thrust open. Everyone jumped to their feet, standing in a defensive position.

In the door frame stood a girl, who looked to be in her teens. Her face was unreadable as she spoke in a clear commanding voice.

“I’m Cammie. Man over the road called the cops on ya love. I’d disperse the mothers meeting”

Allison never got to thank her, she was gone as quick as she came.

                                                        ***

Klaus as never one for constant socialising, which is why he was sat in an empty coffee shop with Ben sat opposite him. He didn’t notice the girl in a waitress uniform stand next to him until she spoke.

“Im Cammie, you want anything else Mister?”

Klaus looked up, to see a teen girl staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

“Are you not a little young to be of the working class my dear?” he asked absentmindedly. Ben rolled his eyes.

The girl smiled. “Im way older then you would believe darling,” she turned to where Ben was sat, seemingly invisible to anyone but Klaus. “And what about you hot stuff?” she smirked.

Klaus lifted his head from his arms “You can see him?” he asked

“No one ever comes in here darling, I think I’d notice not one but two cuties when they walk in,”

Ben sent an awkward smile “No thank you.” he said.

Cammie sent a sweet smile before walking off. She was gone before they could say anything else. 

                                                         ***

Cammie was furious. And that was an understatement. Five had gone through the portal, taking her with him to get back to his family but somehow she was thrown away and separated from him thrown back into the 60′s where she tried desperately to find him. Then, when she awoke to the grimy alleyway she had been chucked into she realised that she was stuck in her teenage body.

She told Five. She told him the equations were wrong but did he listen? Nope.

And now she was stuck god knows where.

Now, Cammie like Five had extraordinary powers. Although there lines of what she could do were blurred she could see flashes of events that happened in the past, present and future. In other words, time was her bitch. But when she saw the flash of Five being threatened by the Handler her blood boiled.

The only issue with Five is that the little shit couldn't seem to stay in the right timeline so Cammie didn’t know when he would be experiencing what she thought he was going through.

Needless to say all thoughts of common sense went out the window when she saw the Handler pointing a gun at her teenage husband. So naturally she teleported to the commission.

When she arrived the Handler was sitting at her office with an unpleasant smirk on her face. In-front of her were two people whom Cammie did not recognise. The first was a man, with long Jesus style hair and tan skin. He had tan skin and wore a shocked expression. The other was a woman with shoulder length dark hair and wide brown eyes. The Handler did not seem even slightly surprised and Cammie’s sudden appearance.

“Cammie dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked smiling.

“Why the HELL is my husband?” She growled, eyes narrowing into slits. The Handler rolled her eyes.

“Ah yes. Don’t worry he’s a free man, still trying to stop what cannot be stopped..I must say you do look better at this age than you did two weeks ago”

Cammie rolled her eyes, looking at the two people next to her, who were staring in shock.

“I told him.” Cammie said angrily. “I told him the equations were wrong. But my husband thought he was right.”

Cammie picked up a Vase and threw it against the bookshelf so it shattered into a million pieces. “BECAUSE FIVE HARGREEVES NEVER FUCKING LISTENS”  

The Handler didn’t even blink, but the man in the chair with the Jesus hair spoke up “Hold on a minuet, Five Hargreeves is your husband? The bastard managed to get married??”

Cammie laughed. “And how would you know him?”

The man paused for a moment, “Im his brother, Deigo”

Cammie rolled her eyes, “Tell me, was he always a little shit?”

“Yes,”

The Handler stood up, picking up a gun and pointing it at Cammie who didn’t seem even slightly fazed at the fact her life was being threatened. By now it was a common occurrence. “What do you want Cammie?” she said

“Where. Is. My. Husband.” she seethed

Diego spoke up “Last I heard he was with a Man called Elliot, down an alleyway”

Cammie turned to face him “How come your’e more helpful in a second than Five has been his entire life?”

“Tell me, do you flirt with all the Haregreeve siblings?” The Handler sneered.

Cammie laughed “She’s just salty Five chose me and not her.”

The Handler raised her weapon firing multiple times but it was too late. In a flash of blue light Cammie was gone.

“Five got Married?”

                                                          ***

Five and Luther were having a nice little conversation about the poor dead Elliot in the chair when they saw a flash of blue light which seemed to be emitting a lot of crashing sounds and swearing coming from the balcony below them.

“Shit. Its the commission get down.” Five whispered to Luther who decided to do as he was told.

“How have they found us?”

Five sighed running his hands through his hair in frustration as he peeked behind the sofa. “I don’t know, but they are dangerous so be careful.”

“FIVE HARGREEVES I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU ARE HERE I AM GOING TO WRING YOUR NECK AND STAB YOUR EYES OUT WITH SPOONS”

“How many enemies do you have??” asked Luther eyes wide in shock.

However Five was staring at where the sound was coming from with a slight smile on his face. Luther was more shocked that Five was producing a genuine smile than anything else. 

“She’s not an enemy” he said standing up and walking to the stairs.

“FIVE GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR I AM GOING TO KILL YOU”

Luther looked at him incredulously “Well she sure sounds like it.”

When Five got to the stairs, he was relieved to see Cammie, standing hands on hips glaring at him with the angriest stare she could muster. He merely smiled back, finding it slightly amusing how angry she was. (And slightly scary but he would never admit that)

As soon as it clicked that Five was in fact okay, Cammie marched up the staircase yelling how much she was going to absolutely slaughter him, her speed not slowing down as she drew nearer

“Er - Five? Are you sure she is not the enemy because she looks -”

Luther watched as Cammie came nearer to his brother unsure of what to do until she ...kissed Five?

The girl had ran to Five and placed her hands firmly on the sides of his face pulling him down to kiss her. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. Her hands travelled to his hair, running her hands through it. 

Luther just stood there mouth open, trying to comprehend what was happening in front of him.

The kiss broke, leaving Cammie still on her toes, face buried in the crook of Fives neck as he had one arm still wrapped around her waist and the other stroking her hair.

“W h a t?” Luther finally managed to get out

The pair separated looking up at the bigger man, who was staring between the two blankly. first of all he was shocked that Cammie hadn’t tried to kill them, but also the fact that his annoying, self centred arsehole of a brother actually found love - and not to mention the fact he had never seen Five as happy as he looked right now.

“Cammie, this is my brother Luther, Luther this is my wife Cammie.”

“Im sorry you are married?”

Five rolled his eyes so Luther turned to Cammie.

“You actually like him?”

At this Cammie laughed, brushing hair out of Five’s face “Surprisingly I do - even if he never listens to me.”

Five turned to her “I do listen to you!” 

“Erm no you don’t. I told you the calculations were off but you didn’t listen to me”

Five open and closed his mouth but no words came out, so he turned to Luther.

“We carry on with the plan, but this time we have her. She is so much better.”

“I still can’t get over the fact that you are married,”

                                                      ***

Cammie was laid in bed. Her head was on Fives chest, her arms wrapped around him, her leg hooked up on his waist. He was snuggled into her, burying his face in her hair as she slept, his arms tightly wrapped around her

The Hargreeve siblings were stood around around them, each with their mouth open slightly in shock.

“Can anyone else not get over the fact Five is Married?” Luther asked

“To a reasonable person no doubt,” Allison continued.

“And a baddass. The commission adore and are terrified by her.” Diego added

“Ben and I would like to point out she clearly makes Five happy. That’s a yay right?”

“Vanya nodded her head. “He looks at peace for once.”

And he did. For the first time in years the siblings saw their grumpy, annoying, pessimistic brother smile, a real genuine smile.

“If you guys don’t stop staring he will kill you,”

[honkhonkrichard]

21 with reddie

 21. Best Friends Sibling AU

This got way longer than I thought and I’m calling it ‘Get it right the First Time’ after the billy joel song okay ‘njoy! (WC: 1600+)

“He’s adopted. We all are.” Stan said out of the blue, after dinner. 

“What?” Richie asked.

“Eddie. He’s adopted. So is Ben. Bill is too.” He said again, louder this time. 

“I-I mean.. I guessed.” Richie shrugged. “Cause they’re white and you’re-” Richie threw a hand over at Stan. “Not.” 

“Israeli.” 

“I forgot the word.” 

“clearly.”

“I-I didn’t have to know, dude, it’s not a big deal.” Richie stammered.

“You were staring at Eddie the entire meal.” Stan said loosely, eyes never leaving his book. 

Richie shifted. He was staring at Eddie. How could he not? He was… gorgeous. Big grey eyes, freckled, tan skin, wavy blond hair and the cutest little face. He had a look of perpetual surprise and annoyance, like someone just stole his parking space. 

He sat a the table quietly nearly the whole meal, watching the conversation with curiosity and every now and then, his eyes shifted over to Richie. 

Richie couldn’t take his eyes off of the younger boy. He was so… pretty. The light from the dining room was framing his face this side of perfect, and his sweater was too big and it gave him the sweetest little sweaterpaws- 

“I wasn’t staring at Eddie.” 

Stan’s eyes looked up from his book, sharp and intelligent as usual. “Liar.” 

“So what If I was?” Richie said, probably too defensively. “What’re you gonna do about it?” 

“Give you my blessing.” Stan said from behind his book, light green eyes still locked on Richie. 

“I don’t think I get you, Uris.” Richie lied, because he was quite sure he did. Rich hadn’t been subtle with his idiot grin and enthusiasm with trying to talk to Eddie, who didn’t reciprocate in the slightest.

“I think you do, Tozier.” 

“Stanley?” Someone said from the door. 

Richie looked up to see Eddie clamped around the door frame, sweater paws and cute grumpy surprise in full swing. Turns out he was wearing little shorts too. Richie gulped. 

“Yes Eddie?” Stan said innocently, putting his book down.

Eddie shifted uncomfortably and looked Richie over, the frown in his lips grew. Richie felt a blush rise to his cheeks. “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?” 

“Sure.” Stan blinked, and stood up. He looked considerably older than his siblings, Richie decided, trying not to imagine his hands around Eddie’s thighs. “Rich, you’ll give us a minute?” 

“Course.” 

Stan left the room, and Eddie disappeared with him, leaving Richie alone with himself to think about how much Eddie licking his lips after dinner had drove him crazy. 

I gotta stop. Richie thought, rubbing his face. Gonna go half chub thinking about it too much. He decided to mindlessly fiddle with his bracelets. 

Stan strutted back into the room not longer later, sunk back down into his desk chair, handed Richie a small slip of paper and tucked his hands behind his neck, stretching out like a cat. 

“Get out.” 

Richie’s eyes widened. “Eddie doesn’t like me, does he?” 

Stan shrugged ominously. “It’s me that wants you out.” 

“Rude.” 

“You have a crush on my baby brother.” Stan said simply.

“Baby.” Richie grinned.

“Out please.” 

Richie huffed and grabbed his backpack. “I’ll see you tomorrow though yeah?” Stan nodded in response, and Richie left the room, closing the door behind him (He may be a douche but he wasn’t a barbarian.)

Richie silently gazed into the hallway. All the doors were labeled. Ben’s door was closed, Bill’s was half open (Though loud horror movie noises were coming from behind it.) and what Richie assumed was Eddie’s was wide open; the quiet sound of tapping the only sound from it. 

The horror movie paused and Bill swung his door open, eyeing Richie curiously. 

“Sup man?” Richie waved. 

“W-What’re you doing?” Bill asked, voice lower and more angry than it had been at dinner. 

“Uhhhhh I just left Stan cause he kicked me out and then I got lost in thoughts. What’s up with you?” Richie admitted. 

Bill glared him up to down. Richie wasn’t sure why he was angry. They got along fine at dinner, joked about how they had no idea they both worked at the same place (Charlie’s vinyls, Bill had the day shift, Rich took the night shift) and now he was being judged. 

“If you fuck over my brother, I’ll slaughter you.” Bill promised, and then closed the door. 

“What?” Richie mumbled as the horror movie clicked back on. 

Richie made a face and went down the hall, and couldn’t stop himself from peering into Eddie’s room. 

There were lots of knick knacks everywhere, succulents, a big desk and Eddie curled up in his too big sweater, typing away on a laptop. He noticed Richie, clearly looking at him through the corner of his eye (still surprised and annoyed) and took a deep breath, trying to continue typing. 

Richie gave a him a toothy smile. Eddie did not respond. 

“So… Uh… Do you.. like… Did I- Um.” Richie tried. Words weren’t working. 

Eddie sighed and got up from his chair and then-

closed the door. 

Richie snapped some finger guns at the closed door. “Cool.” He said. “Dope I’ll uhhhhh see you later.” 

- 

That night, Richie nodded along to the music blasting through his headphones, and emptied his pockets. Wallet. Phone. Rings he forgot to put on after he washed his hands for dinner. Piece of paper Stan gave him that he never read. Pop can tab. Wait.

Richie picked up the paper and unfolded it. It had a small message written in red pen on it; it looked like it had been scribbled over relentlessly. It also had a snapchat username.

Snap: KasperEddie youre rly hot attractive and it makes me nervous but i wanna keep talking 2 to you - eddie (the small blonde one of stan’s brothers who gets really nervous around you)

Richie didn’t bother fighting the smile off his face. His day was looking up. Even though it was 11:26 at night. 

He nabbed his phone and collapsed on his bed, adding Eddie’s username, and taking a quick photo of him lying in bed and sent it to the cutie patootie. 

Tozier Boy🤙 (Trashrecords): Heyyyyyyyyy got ur message closing the door on me was rly sex c of u

The response was almost immediate. It was a photo of Eddie’s computer. Looks like he was writing an essay.

Eeeeeeee: Sorry you make me nervous I didn’t know what else to do

Richie grinned wildly and stuck his tongue out at the camera, still lying in bed

Tozier Boy🤙: ill let it slide cause youre cute as hell xox

Then he texted Stan.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:29): you BASTART whyd u kick me out if eddie liked me

And got a snap from Eddie: A photo of his keyboard:

Eeeeeeee: oh!!! 

“Holy fuck.” Richie whispered. “You are fucking adorable.” 

and he sent Eddie a photo of his ceiling saying just that.

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:35): Because Eddie told me to. Said you made him nervous. He also told Bill he liked you and if you started speaking to Eddie Bill would put 30 rounds in your chest.

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:35): hot damn 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:36) Also; Ben wants you to come back over and give him “Romance Advice” because you seem “With it” 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:37): u never told me ben was a grandpa

The next image was of Eddie’s face, which was cute enough, except he had drawn blush onto himself. Eeeeeeee: thank you

Immediately following it was a black screen: omg im covered in acne and im sweaty im so sorry

Richie took a photo of him making a desperate face. 

Tozier Boy🤙: can we go out i need to get you comfortable with me holding your cute little face as soon as fucking possible also can u go call Ben a grandpa its very important

A photo of a confused bed tucked into a beanbag chair: Eeeeeeee: he said stan JSUT called him that fjkdhflkjdhfjdkhjkd

Richie smiled against his pillow, trying to breath slowly to calm himself down. Holy fuck this fucking kid. 

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:45) We’ve made Ben very sad. 

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:45) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:46) He told me Eddie called him a grandpa too and made the “:(” face and then told me you just “Walk with.. uhm.. swagger and stuff. [You] just seem to know what he’s doing..” Little does he know-

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:46) who’s gonna tell him im dumbass

Then Richie went back to Eddie, trying to pull himself together, took a photo of his dog. 

Tozier Boy🤙: so…. did u…… wanna …..hmmmmmmm… go out sometime.?

The next photo was of Eddie’s wide eyes, it was blurry, like he was moving as he took it. 

Eeeeeeee: !!!!!! CAN U BRING UR DOG

“God damn.” 

Tozier Boy🤙: which one I got 2 an old man corgi (Amante/Ames) and this baby (Bellissima/Belle) 

Eeeeeeee: BOTH!!!! I WOULD DIE FOR THEM

Then Eddie sent another black screen. 

Eeeeeeee: Fr though I would like a date. Do you like ice cream?

Tozier Boy🤙: im lack toes and taller ants i love ice cream how about this saturday at noon?

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:53): Eddie’s cackling madly what the fuck did you do

You to Stealink my NOTs (11:53) lack toes and taller ants dude

Stealink my NOTs to You (11:54): Cool. Stop it.

Eeeeeeee: sure!!

Richie dropped his phone to the side and danced against his bed. Waving his hands to The Safety Dance. Dates, dogs and cute boys. Okay. 

He spent the rest of the night talking with Eddie, grinning widely the whole time. 

[yesvac]

Cool Kids Never Have The Time (stozier)

au where stan and richie don’t know each other but as classmates, richie is the class stoner, and stan smokes weed for the first time with him : ) 

warning: drug use

length: about 3k

The first hit of the bowl is a bit too much to handle, in Stan’s opinion.

It’s not like he’s a nerd, per say. He wouldn’t be qualified as one in most people’s minds. He’s actually quite cool, in his opinion, but in the social ladder of their high school, he’s not particularly topping the charts. He’s got friends, sure, but those people are not considered “cool kids” or “popular”. One of his friends, Ben, called him “the King of the nerds,” once.

So Stan wouldn’t say it’s surprising that he became friends with Richie Tozier. Yeah, Richie is… a bit edgier than most people he knows, and Richie doesn’t go to school as often as he should, but it’s not like Stan’s counting his attendance, or looking over at Richie’s empty seat at the beginning of class every day. Psh, why would he?

But that doesn’t quite explain how Stan got to be in this situation, holding a “bowl” up to his lips while Richie lights the end.

He surely didn’t mean to get in this situation. He’s not a bad kid. He stays away from drugs, and when he gets invited to parties with alcohol, he politely declines. In his high school career, and in all of the 18 years of his life, he’s gone to one real party. He left in twenty minutes.

But what was he supposed to do when Richie passed him a note in Economics, reading “you want to come over to mine later?”

When the note was dropped on his desk, he was dumbfounded at first, for multiple reasons. His heart was racing as he tried to process it. First thought: who the fuck passes notes anymore? this isn’t middle school. And then: wait, Richie Tozier wants me to come over?

Then he thinks of what he might like to do at Richie Tozier’s house. Oh.

Stan blushes at his thoughts. He shouldn’t allow himself to think things like that about boys, but he indulges occasionally. Probably more than most guys would.

He looks across the room to where Richie’s sitting and he’s a bit spooked when he sees that Richie is already looking at him, with this little smirk on his face. Swallowing his anxiety, Stan nods in Richie’s direction, and the butterflies that reside in his tummy are making a bit of an uproar as a grin appears on Richie’s face. Richie mouths to him slowly: meet me by my locker after school.

Fuck. Stan’s fucked if he wants a good grade in Econ, because any and all material is lost to his mind after that.

-

A few hours later when the final bell rings, Stan tries to convince himself he hasn’t been waiting for the moment that school ends, but he can’t, not truly. His friends have been bugging him about being absentminded and not participating in their conversations mentally, but he reckons that’s okay for one day.

He tries not to run to Richie’s locker, and instead settles for a brisk pace over to a black mob of hair and a jean jacket faced the opposite way. Briefly, he is immobilized with nervousness, but when Richie glances over to where Stan is standing awkwardly a few feet away, he loudly spits out, “Hi!”

At first, Richie looks a bit judgemental, but his expression softens, and the corners of his beautiful mouth tilt upwards. Stan’s running his fingers through his fringe and pushing it upwards because Jesus, he’s sweating already. Calm the fuck down and stop being so gay, he thinks, but Richie’s smile just makes his knees feel weak. “Hey, Stan the man.”

“Stan the man?” he makes out, and the nervousness is coming back again, and he thinks for a moment that maybe he’s actually judged this situation completely wrong. Is this… an insult, or a nickname? It’s not like Richie is perceived in the eyes of the school body as a nice guy, really. Stan’s not sure. But… maybe he saw him looking at him. Maybe he’s angry. Maybe he knows Stan’s gay somehow, and trapped him here, cornered against a locker. Maybe coming here was the worst possible idea.

His mind tells him to take a step back, so he does. “I- I actually think, that I have to, I have to go,” he stammers. “My mom, uh. My mom needs me to take care of our… Our iguana.”

Stan doesn’t have an iguana. He facepalms mentally.

But then, Richie says the unexpected: “Is something wrong? Are you okay? You look pale all the sudden.” He extends an arm to rest on Stan’s shoulder and despite his best efforts, Stan can’t find it in him to think there’s anything malicious about him.

Sure, Richie’s wearing black ripped jeans and some old, beat up Doc Martins that look like they’re from the 80’s, but he’s also wearing a jean jacket with pink patches and embroidered designs. Yes, he’s got a septum piercing and he skips school, but his eyes and smile are so soft that Stan can’t be intimidated. He melts at the gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Stan manages, and he can tell his face is hot. “I just remembered that I, uh, don’t actually have to be home, so nevermind. I can come over to yours.”

Richie laughs, and the way he tilts his head back while laughing makes Stan’s heart hurt. “Okay, it’s not iguana-care day. I see,” Richie teases, and surprisingly, Stan doesn’t feel targeted or anything by the tease, just wants to laugh along with him, so he does. It feels natural and organic to be laughing with him and he wants to do it forever. “Let’s go, I can give us a ride.”

There’s something mundanely enchanting to Stan about boys who can drive. Well, maybe it’s just boys. Actually, maybe it’s just Richie.

He coughs awkwardly as he gets into Richie’s vehicle. It’s an interesting one for sure. “Sorry if it’s hard to close the door, Ol’ Gertrude is getting a bit rickety. But we won’t die.” Stan laughs, as if it’s a joke, but Richie looks at him seriously. “Probably.”

He’s not lying when he says that the car is getting old; there’s rust all over it and it does take two or three tries for Stan to fully close the door because for some reason, its locking mechanism doesn’t work. The seats are all busted in some ways and Richie has seemed to fix it by using duct tape strategically, but Stan can still feel the springs poking out in some places. There’s dice hanging from the mirror. It’s a hot day, but there’s not air conditioning, so Stan can feel the perspiration on his face, but the way the windows roll down and Stan can stick his fingers out to feel the air as Richie drives is therapudic and organic.

Richie’s fringe is fully pushed up by now, his face slightly flush as he drives with one hand. He’s trying to explain music to Stan, and Stan suddenly realizes what Richie’s actually passionate about.

“Call me a hipster - really, I am - but the stuff nowadays is really shitty. Too much autotune, and electronic music sound. I’m not into it. Prime music was the 80’s and 90’s - alternative was the best then.” He’s trying to get a CD out of the compartment in front of Stan and Stan takes it over from him, sliding the CD out of the case and helping Richie slide it into the disc player. It immediately plays Track 1.

“Fuck, this is a classic,” Richie comments fondly, and Stan thinks swear words don’t sound quite as crude coming out of his mouth.

Shakedown 1979

Cool kids never have the time

On a live wire right up off the street

You and I should meet

He finds himself fascinated with the way Richie looks, carefree and happy as he drives and sings along to the song. Stan’s not sure if he likes the music better than what he listens to, but he’s sure that he likes Richie singing it better than anything he’s ever heard, ever.

Too soon they arrive at Richie’s house, and as they get out, some anxiety clouds Stan’s mind because what the fuck are they going to do, anyways? He’s not like, socially incapable, but Richie and him have never really talked ever, and they don’t seem to have very many common interests. Nevertheless, they enter Richie’s house and it’s nice, cozy. His downstairs is painted in light pastel yellows and he feels comforted at the decor.

When Richie shows him his room, it’s like walking into a completely different building from the rest of the house.

First of all, it’s painted a light blue, but that’s barely visible through all of the posters he has up. There’s movie posters for every award-winning movie he can think of in the last 30 years. Also, there’s posters for, yes, 90’s and 80’s alternative and rock bands, and Stan thinks if Richie knew that the only real 80’s and 90’s music Stan knows is the boybands, then he would be scolded severely (he can’t help it - his first boy crush was on Justin Timberlake). There’s also tacked up photos of what look to be torn pages from National Geographic of locations around the world. Stan recognizes what looks to be a busy Japanese street, a waterfall somewhere, the badlands, and a photo taken in a desert with a crowd of antelope. He has a bed and in the corner of his bedroom, a sofa, and then a computer desk with a computer chair - he sits down at his chair and looks up at Stan, and Stan sits on his bed lightly.  His bedroom is also slightly messy, disheveled in a way that isn’t too unacceptable. There’s an indistinct smell that he can’t quite place.

Stan feels slightly overwhelmed.

Richie begins talking about something related to music again, and he syncs his phone with a speaker in his room and plays some song Stan can’t place, one he’s never heard before, and he zones out a bit to what he’s saying, internally freaking out that he’s at a hot boy’s house on his bed while he’s being ranted at about good music, until Richie says something that shocks him into listening.

“Wanna smoke weed?”

While Stan knows it’s unattractive to sputter, apparently he can’t help but be not cute around Richie. “W-what did you say?” Because he isn’t quite sure he heard right, even though he knows internally exactly what Richie said.

“Did you want to smoke some weed? I have four grams and a bowl if you wanted to. My parents aren’t home and won’t be ‘till later. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, really. It helps me relax though, and makes the music even better,” Richie says, and he giggles a bit at the end. He raises his eyebrows at Stan, obviously expecting an answer, but Stan’s not sure he can give a comprehensible one.

Oh god, he’s about to get high for the first time with the hottest dude in his class. This is what he knows, because he knows for a fact he’s not going to be able to say no to Richie’s smile, even if he’s kind of scared of inhaling smoke and getting high in general, and his mom raised him to stay away from drugs.

“Yes,” he says. Of course. Idiot.

So that brings them to where they are now. Richie is opening up the window to his room, and he retrieves a wooden box from a discreet place at the top of his messy closet, and he opens the box. There’s some oddly shaped things Stan doesn’t recognize, and it occurs to him that Richie probably doesn’t realize that he hasn’t smoked weed before. “I haven’t smoked weed before,” he comments casually, and Richie looks at him incredulously.

“Really, Stan the man? Never smoked?” Richie asks, and Stan nods. “Figures, with your straight A’s, and all. You just need to be roughed up a little. Live life and all that shit.” Stan nods again, and pretends that he doesn’t want Richie to rough him up in every way. “I’ll guide you through it.”

Ten minutes later and they’re both sitting on Richie’s sofa facing his window, and Richie’s holding what he calls a “bowl”, which in reality looks nothing like a bowl and actually looks more like a pipe made of glass or ceramic material, Stan doesn’t know. It’s blue and shiny, and it’s stuffed with weed at the end. Richie tells him the process of it, how you’re supposed to hold your fingers over one part of it, and then light it, and then inhale, and then release your fingers, and then exhale after you’ve held it for a moment. But try as he might, all of those instructions escaped his mind, because when you’ve got Richie Tozier one foot in front of you and you’re about to get high with him, it’s quite hard to focus on little things.

“Got it?” Richie asks him, and Stan wants to have got it, but he hasn’t got it. He shakes his head, and Richie laughs. He feels bad for a moment, but not for long, not really. “It’s okay, Stan. I’ll hold the bowl for you and I’ll light it too. All you have to do is inhale, and then exhale when you’re ready.”

Stan nods, and he doesn’t feel ready quite yet, but it’s not like he’s going to say no because god, Richie is beautiful and he’s holding the bowl up to his lips and Stan’s going to hell for being so gay, he’s sure of it. It occurs to him that he’s practically on Richie’s lap right as Richie lights the weed, and says “GO!” to him, and he inhales the smoke from the bowl, and immediately chokes.

Richie had told him that he’d probably cough, but this was nothing like he’d imagined. He choked on smoke and coughed to try to get the toxicity out of his throat. He keeps coughing, and he’s honestly surprised at the amount he coughs before he can stop, really. He’s practically wheezing out of Richie’s window, and Richie is chuckling at him slightly. When Stan finally stops coughing, wiping the water out of his eyes, he sees Richie from his blurry vision taking a hit and he looks practiced and masterful. The smoke leaves through his nose and he takes a breathe of air calmly. No coughing at all.

“What the fuck? How did you do that?” Stan laughs, and he coughs again at the end of his sentence, and finds himself in another minute-long coughing fit. He wants to stop, he really does, but there’s an insistent tickling at the back of his throat and he must look like an idiot.

However, there’s a warmth at his shoulder and he looks back at Richie, smiling warmly at him and he feels comforted with just a glance at the boy next to him, and he can feel the anxiety melting off of him by the minute. “If you’re a loser pothead like me, then you’re good at this. But don’t aspire for that,” he laughs again, and holds the bowl out to Stan’s mouth again, and Stan tries to pull himself together for another hit again, and he inhales like before. It goes down much smoother than the first, but he still coughs with his exhale.

“Is there a way to make this any better than it is? Like, my eyes won’t stop watering and I’ve got this tickling in my throat that isn’t going away,” he complains to Richie as Richie takes another hit. It occurs to him mildly that his lips were wrapped around the same thing that Richie’s are, and tries to make that fact not matter to him, and fails. “I don’t get the glamour of this yet.”

The way Richie exhales the smoke out of the window through pursed lips makes Stan’s spine tingle a little bit, in a way that only Richie’s looks can do. Richie laughs dryly again. “Eating and drinking make it better. I’m sure the high will hit you in a few. You’ll feel it, and you’ll know.” As Richie relaxes against the sofa, he gets the feeling that Richie is already feeling it.

“How am I supposed to know if I’ve never experienced it?” Stan presses, leaning forward a bit, closer to Richie. Richie gives him a devious smile in return, cracking his knuckles before placing a hand on Stan’s shoulder, which is warm and welcome.

“You’ll know, Stan the man. You’ll know.”

A few minutes later, they are both lying on the floor and looking up at Richie’s ceiling. The lights are off and Richie has glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling which Richie is entranced by, as they listen to more music. Stan feels… something, but he isn’t sure if it is from the drug he just smoked or the feeling of laying so close to Richie.

Richie suddenly turns towards him, still horizontal, and says, “Stan the man.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel?”

Stan’s fingers grip the carpet around him, letting the fabric touch his hands and feel the texture and everything around him. “I feel a little different. Like everything’s slower.”

“Your eyes are red as hell,” Richie comments, laying a hand on Stan’s arm. Tingles shoot through Stan from the place that Richie touched him. He internally facepalms at how sensitive he is, and tells himself to calm down.

Stan sits up a bit, and looks at Richie’s face, examining the way that the weed has affected him. “Your eyes are red too, you know. So shut up.”

“You’re so handsome, Stan,” Richie sighs, and Stan’s eyes widen. He’s unsure if he heard Richie correctly, and where that compliment came from, and what the implications are, and whether it could just be a platonic comment, and his mind is racing with thoughts while he stares blankly forward.

Richie’s eyebrows furrow. “You good?”

Stan sputters, “yeah. I’m good. I think it just hit me.”

Richie smirks, an irritatingly attractive tilt of the mouth, and Stan wishes he could kiss it off of him, so he does. He grabs Richie’s wrists and pulls him forward, and their mouths collide clumsily and Stan is feeling so, so unorthodox.

But it’s good. It’s really good. Richie is warm and although he is bony, his hands seem to have an instinct of their own and perfectly clutch Stan’s face, aligning like they were made to fit, and Stan’s whole body feels like it’s tingling as he moves his lips against Richie’s, kissing him. Richie seems to be pressing forward, responding emphatically to Stan’s movements, and Stan pulls away to breathe and to look at Richie again. He can’t believe himself.

Richie’s face is flushed, his cheeks pleasantly red, and Stan thinks he looks better than ever. His eyes are blown-- from use of illegal substances or from kissing, Stan isn’t sure-- and he looks exhilerated. Stan is internally satisfied that he can make Richie look like that.

Turning down the volume of the music, Richie smiles back to Stan, and his hands move along Stan’s arms like he can’t stop touching him. “I guess I’ll have to have you over a lot more often, Stan the man.”

[edsbev]

Random teen Au Idea: the losers are all at Richies house and they decide to play a drinking game. It’s all fun until they realize Eddie hasn’t drank before. So they find out he can’t really hold his booze. He kinda dozes off. Richie let’s Eddie have his bed and makes a bed on the floor. When he comes back up with pillows Eddie makes him lay with him. Turns out Eddie is clingy when drunk and cuddles Richie all night. Mumbling things like “I love you” (andrichieishearingallofthisforthefirsttime)

ok so. i wrote a dumb lil thing for this. and by that i mean i wrote 3.4k of nonsense that have literally no point but anyway this was just rlly cute and i love drunk eddie so! here’s this. (i kinda changed it up a lil hope thats ok)

"Hey, Rich," Mikesays, from where he's sat on the floor. "Got any snacks?"

They're in Richie's basement,or, Richie's parents basement, because he's seventeen and still has to legallylive under the same roof as an adult. It's alright, aside from his dad's badpuns and his mother's scatterbrained tendencies, it's cool. Because his parentslet him have his friends over when they're not around.

So right now, Mike Hanlon issitting cross-legged on the old dusty, circle-printed rug. Looking forlornly atthe clutter of empty bowls on the wooden coffee table.

Of course, he's not the onlyfriend here. Beverly Marsh is shifting around on the orange couch (the entirebasement has a stuffy, cluttered 70s feel, with all its warm tones, woodenpaned walls and orange and green patterns) and she almost kicks Ben Hanscom inthe face as she sticks her feet up over the back of the seat, her head danglingabove the floor.

"I think the real questionis," she says, grinning at Richie. "Is whether or not he has anybooze."

From the loveseat, with his legstucked neatly beneath him, his fair curls touched by the orange light of thelamp beside him (one of the only bright things in this dank, dark basement,aside from the small, fuzzy box TV, which bathes a pleasant blue glow overMike's skin), Stanley Uris makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat.  

"We're not stealingRichie's parents’ alcohol and getting drunk in Richie's basement," hesays.

"You w-wanna get drunksomewhere else?" asks Bill Denbrough, from where he's leant against Ben'slegs on the floor, a crooked grin on his mouth.

Stan gets a very pinched look onhis face, and he glares at Richie, like this is somehow his fault.

"We can steal someoneelse's booze too," Richie adds, and Bev laughs in a way that's just aclear and sharp "Ha!" and Bill snorts and Stan neatly but angrily foldshis arms across his chest.

"That's not what Imeant."

Richie grins. He stands behindthe orange couch, so he can see them all, and because he had gotten up at somepoint to actually go grab snacks, and got distracted along the way. And now hetaps his fingers along the cushions, gives Bev's ankle a playful tug, and turnsto face his sixth and smallest, but also best, friend. Eddie Kaspbrak. Who'sbeen poking around with Richie's dad old record player and ignoring everyoneelse.

"What do you reckon, Eds?"

Eddie startles. Pulling his handaway from the record needle. He gives Richie a wide-eyed look, big brown eyesglinting gold in the lamplight, like he's been caught doing something wrong. Ofcourse, he hasn't done anything wrong, aside from tune out the group for thepast five minutes, lured over by the sight of Richie's dad broken record playerand his desire to tinker and fix things - he just has a perpetual wide-eyedlook, on account of his eyes being round and doe-like. Richie has told Eddiethat he finds it adorable on many occasions, but in a joking, light-hearted waythat is easy for Eddie to dismiss with the wave of his hand. Truth is though,Richie really does find Eddie adorable. Doe-eyes and freckles and fluffy hairand all.

"Um," says Eddie, gazeflickering from Richie to the group - who are now all waiting for his response.His hand still hovers half way to the record needle, like he'd much rathertinker around with that than join in on whatever the rest of the Losers aredoing. "Yeah, sure."

Richie immediately breaks out ina grin, and Eddie jolts a little - like a frightened mouse - as Richie swingsaround to face the others. "Here that, ladies and gentleman!" He ismet with only one smiling face, being Bev. "Eddie is all for the booze!"

"Wait, no-"

"Wait right here, folks,I'll be right back."

"Richie!"

Richie ascends the stairs two ata time, cackling. The sound of footsteps chases after him.

Of course, it's Eddie. Richieslides on his socks along the floorboards to the kitchen, and he can hear Eddieyelling at him. Something about Richie being a dumbass, the usual stuff. Hestumbles into the kitchen, crouches by the bottom cupboards, and tears open thedoors just as Eddie catches up. Richie grips the handle to keep his balance onhis bent toes, and looks up over the cupboard door at Eddie, who is standingbehind it - the top of the door reaching Eddie's waist, because he's small (ha)-and glowering at Richie with all the heat his perpetual wide-eyes can muster.

"Is there a problem, mydear Spagedward?" Richie asks sweetly.

"Fuck the booze,Rich," Eddie says.

"Kinky." Richiereaches into the cupboard and pulls out the first bottle he gets his hands on.Red wine. Gross.

"Seriously, put the alcoholaway," Eddie continues. Richie continues to rummage through the cupboards,the sound of glass bottles clinking together. "I didn't consent tothis."

"Oh, come on, Eds,"Richie says. He pulls out another bottle. White wine this time. Better butstill gross. He holds it up toward Eddie and Eddie takes it without thinking."You love a good drink."

"No." Eddie snorts."I fucking don't."

Richie reaches right into theback of the cupboard, so far that his shoulder hits the underside of thecounter top. He turns his head to side and watches Eddie, who looking at thebottle of wine in his hands like it holds poison. A crease between his brows,the corner of his mouth tugged down in a frown. Richie's always liked hismouth. But that's beside the point. The point is, Eddie looks, in that moment,completely adverse to alcohol. And now Richie is having an epiphany of sorts,thinking back through every hazy drunk memory and not finding Eddie in any oneof them.

"Eddie," he says, andhis eyes widen and his mouth gapes open in a bit of an asshole smile but hecan't help it. "Have you...never had alcohol before?"

Eddie almost drops the bottle.Scrambles to clutch it close to his chest, his cheeks and the tips of his earsturning pink. He stutters over an answer, but it's pointless. Richie gets thatswelling feeling in his chest that people usually feel when they win thelottery or some shit.

"Oh my god."

"Richie -"

"I can't believe I neverrealised -"

"It's really not a big deal-"

"Yeah but you've never -"Richie breaks off when he notices the way Eddie averts his gaze, face growerredder by the second, and Richie feels something close to compassion."Hey," he says, voice two shades softer, drawing those doe brown eyesback toward him. "We don't have to drink, if you don't want to."

That must be the wrong thing tosay, because Eddie's face hardens around the edges, jaw tightening, a sharplook in his eye, and he scowls. "Don't baby me," he says.

"Eddie, you literally saidbefore that you didn't want to drink. I wasn't -"

Eddie ignores him, locking hishand around the neck of the wine bottle in a white-knuckled grip (Richiedoesn't miss the way Eddie's eyes dart to Richie's own neck, like he'simagining his hand wrapped around that instead). "Get your fucking booze,Trashmouth," he snaps, already turning to leave. "We're doingthis."

"Hot," Richiewhispers to himself, eyes trained to Eddie's back as he walks off. He has tostop himself from appreciate at the sight. Instead, he snatches up two morebottles and chases after him.

And that's how they all ended updrunk in Richie's parent's basement.

Well, actually, there was a stepbefore that. Important step. Being the game of 'Never Have I Ever' that they'dplayed, at Bev's insistence. They usually play it by just counting off on theirfingers, and Richie always fucking loses. Though, technically, in that game losingis basically winning. Eddie and Stan always argue that the last left should bethe winner (mostly because they're always the last left) and Richie just reallyfucking likes winning. And so a couple rounds in he'd swirled around thecontents in his bottle, looked up at Eddie slyly through his lashes, and said,"Never have I ever not been drunk before tonight."

"What?" Bev hadsnorted, bottle already poised at her lips (because she was so use to drinkingafter every turn), but Richie tuned her out, zeroing in on the unimpressed lookEddie was simmering his way.

He'd held eye contact withRichie as he placed the lip of bottle to his mouth, tipped his head back, andtaken a shot. It'd taken less than a second, but Richie's mind decided tostupidly play it all in slow motion. The way Eddie's lips circled around thebottle, the way the light bathed golden over his neck, shadows dripping downinto the hollow of his throat and pooling in his collarbones, the way hisAdam's apple bobbed.

HOT screamed Richie's hormonal, teenage brain. Then Eddieconvulsed, expression pinching in disgust at the taste. And Richie softenedinto something more endeared.

"Fuck you," Eddiesaid, wiping his mouth. "Never have I ever had the name Richie."

"Eddie, it's not yourturn," Ben supplied nicely.

"It's okay," Richietold Ben, though he kept his eyes on Eddie. They were both staring at eachother, still, in an unwavering, daring sort of way, and Richie wasenjoying it a lot. Richie grinned, and took a swig.

And they'd gone on like that,competitive streaks taking over, targeting each other with every turn, untilthe other Losers had finally decided to pull the plug.

And that's how they'dended up drunk in Richie's parent basement.

Only thing is, Richie is prettygood at holing his liquor. Years of sneaking off and getting drunk with Bevdoes that to a person. So he's feeling more pleasantly buzzed than anything,kinda jittery in his fingertips and uninhibited in his mind. Free and easy.

And Eddie.Well. He seemed okay at first. Talking a little fast and loud to Ben about theold record player while Richie and Mike ambled off to get snacks. But by thetime Richie and Mike get back, bowls of chips in their hands, Eddie has dozedoff on the couch.

"He okay?" Richieasks, setting his bowl down on the coffee table. Eddie looks like he simplydrifted off sitting up, his back slumped against the back of the couch and hischin tilted down towards his shoulder. Bev has settled next to him, and shetugs off her jacket and carefully places it over Eddie's chest.

"Yeah, he's alright,"she replies. "Just a little drunker than we thought."

Richie nudges Eddie's knee withhis own; Eddie stirs, makes a little 'hrrmph' noise, and tries and fails tolift his head, before falling back asleep.

"Good to see you're stillalive," Richie says. Then he flashes Bev a look like what should I dowith him?

"He can't go home likethis," Bev points out.

"Yeah, no shit."

"That can't becomfortable," Mike says, joining Richie's side, eyeing the awkward angleof Eddie's titled neck. Richie sighs, runs a hand through his hair. By thestairs, Bill jingles his keys and lifts his hand in a parting wave, beforeleaving, followed by Stan. It's only a reminder of how late it's getting - hisgaze finds the little window near the ceiling to his left, and it's a rectangleof black, tinted with grey moonlight.

"Ah, fuck it," Richiesays. "Guess Eddie's sleeping over tonight." And then he ducks down,slides a hand under Eddie's knees, the other under Eddie's back, and lifts himup bridal style.

He almost tips right over,because he's not particularly strong, but the good thing is that Eddie is notparticularly heavy, and Richie gains his footing again easily. Brings Eddieclose up to his chest, Eddie's head lolling against Richie's shoulder withanother little 'hrrpmh' noise. Richie squashes down a smile at how cute it is.

"Where are you takinghim?" asks Bev.

"I'll let him sleep on mybed," Richie explains, already crossing the room. "Then I'll comedown and we can watch that movie you were talking about. Don't eat all thechips while I'm gone."

"You're gonna carry him upthe stairs?" Bev calls after him.

"Uh, yeah? I'm fuckingripped, Bev."

And well, he almost drops Eddietwice, and takes three times as long to ascend the stairs as he normally does,but Richie makes it to the top with the two of them still intact.

Then, it's just a matter ofgetting him into Richie's room and lying him carefully on Richie's rumpledsheets. He tugs Eddie's shoes off, reaches over and plumps the pillows, and ashe pulls away, he almost misses the fact that two brown eyes are staring up athim.

"Hey." Richie smilesdown at Eddie's sleepy face, the curls that fan over Richie's dark pillow, thelittle crinkles by Eddie's eyes as his smiles back.

"Did you..." Eddiepauses, smushes half of his face into Richie's pillow, but Richie can still seethe way his smile turns cheeky, a glint in the brown eye that still looks athim. "Did you carry me up the stairs?"

"What -" That was thelast thing Richie was expecting. Eddie cackles at the startled look on Richie'sface, smothering it down into his pillow. "Yeah, I did actually."

"With those noodlearms?" Eddie asks, voice rising an octave through his laughter. He lookslike a little rumpled gremlin, giggling to himself, curled up on Richie's bed.It's annoyingly cute.

"Look, if you're just goingto bully me - " Richie turns to leave, only half meaning it. There's thesound of sheets rustling and then warm fingers curling around Richie's own andwith a rushed, "Wait!" Eddie pulls Richie back toward him.

Richie stumbles, spinningaround. His knees hit the side of the bed, and he looks down at Eddie who isnow kneeling and looking up at him. And due to their height difference, there'sa fair gap between their faces, but there's only an inch between their bodies.When Eddie breathes in, brown eyes searching Richie's own, Richie feels asthough he's breathing in too.

"Wait," Eddie repeats,a lot quieter this time. He lets go of Richie's hand and slowly slides hisfingers up Richie's forearm. God, it's the softest of touches, but Richie'sbreath catches in his throat, and his skin sparks wherever Eddie fingertipsgraze him. And Eddie doesn't stop until his hand is resting on Richie's bicep,and somewhere in Richie's mind he's aware that Eddie is just being funny. Thathe's feeling up Richie's arms to determine how strong he actually is. But thesoft fluttering expression on Eddie's face says otherwise. And instead of a joke,or an insult, all Eddie says is, "Stay."

And, well, Richie doesn't needto be told twice.

He scrambles up onto the bed,climbing over Eddie with such fervor that Eddie starts giggling again. AndRichie knows that he's tipsy, and that Eddie is drunk, and that neither of themare thinking straight, but how can he pass up the opportunity to lie in bedwith the boy he's been crushing on since forever? Plus, when they both settledown, on their sides, facing in each other in the middle, Eddie reaches over andrests his hand on Richie's bicep again, and Richie's pretty sure he made theright decision.

Eddie shuffles over a littlecloser, shortening the gap between them, and draws circles into the flesh ofRichie's arm with his finger. Smiles mischievously. "Can I tell you asecret?"

Richie resists the urge to reachover and touch Eddie too. "Go ahead."

Eddie trails his finger upRichie's shoulder, then boops Richie's nose with it. Giggles. "I likebeing drunk."

"Yeah?" Richie asks,amused.

"Yeah." Fuck, the wayhis eyes crinkle at the sides when he laughs, how his little nose scrunches up,and his lips part to show a row of perfect white teeth...it's so fucking cute.Richie feels a physical pain in his chest, lying there looking at him."I feel so...free. Like I could do anything. Like I could...I could kissyou or something."

Oh. Oh.

Eddie captures his bottom lip upbetween those perfect teeth, searches Richie's face with curious, excited,eyes. "Do you want to kiss me, Richie?"

Yes. Richie's mouth goes dry.Heart hammers. Yes. He does. He so, so does. Wants to lean over and press hismouth to Eddie's mouth, slides his lips over Eddie's lips, cup Eddie's face,thumb pressed over Eddie's freckles, roll Eddie onto his back and draw littlegasps from his throat.

"I, um," Richie'svoice breaks, like a fucking tween going through puberty. He clears his throatand gives Eddie a crooked smile. "You're drunk, Eds."

"I want to," Eddiecontinues, like Richie hadn't spoken. "I want to kiss you. I think aboutit all the time."

Richie feelslike he's about to spontaneously combust. Eddie's drunk, he has toremind himself, as his hopes skyrocket into the ceiling, he's drunk hedoesn't mean this.

"I think about other thingstoo," Eddie whispers, suggestive.  

"Oh, god," Richiegroans. They are so not going there. Not right now, not like this."Eddie, you're so fucking drunk. We can't...I'm not gonna let you dosomething you'll regret."

A little crease cuts betweenEddie's brow, frowns. "So you don't want to kiss me?"

"No, I do -" Ohshit. Eddie's entire face lights up. Richie's entire face burns red. "I -I um. Fuck, Eddie, I'm not gonna kiss you while you're drunk, okay? I respectyou too much."

"Oh," says Eddieflatly, disappointed. Then he softens, and his hand finds Richie's cheek."Oh. Oh, Richie. You're so sweet." Brushes his thumb beneathRichie's eye. "Such a gentleman."

Richie snorts, his skin aflamebeneath Eddie's palm. "Shut up."

Eddie giggles, and then shuffleseven closer. Richie can feel their body heat burning up together in the slightgap between them, can feel Eddie's calf brush against his own. "Would youkiss me when I'm sober?"

"If you still wantto," Richie says, "then yeah. Yes. I would."

"Okay." Eddie beams.He pulls his hand away from Richie's cheek and nestles down into his pillow,closes his eyes. "Guess I better sober up then."

"You're going tosleep?"

"Yeah." Eddie nestlesdown into the mattress even further, shuffles even closer. Nudges his legsagainst Richie's, like he's trying to slot between them. "Cuddle me?"

And cuddling's okay, right? Ohwhatever, too late. Richie's already lifting his arm up and Eddie's pressinghis face into Richie's chest, head slotting perfectly beneath Richie's chin.Like he's made to be there. Richie wraps his arm around Eddie's back, holdinghim close. And he does something very self-indulgent. He presses his face intoEddie's hair. It tickles, soft and light against Richie's face, and it smellskinda fruity and sweet, a bit like apples. Richie inhales deeply, feels Eddiecurl an arm around his waist. And then he presses a kiss there, into Eddie'shair. So soft and quick it's barely a kiss at all.

But Eddie sighs contently, likehe feels that little expression of affection, and nuzzles his face intoRichie's chest happily.

"Night, Eds," Richiesays, gently. He's going to have to get himself out of here in a moment, onceEddie dozes off again, to meet back up with the others downstairs. But rightnow he's stupidly content, all wrapped up with the boy of his fucking dreams,feels floaty and light and tipsy and happy.

"Night, Richie," Eddiemumbles. He lifts his head sleepily to nose at the underside of Richie's jaw,and Richie curls his fingers into the back of Eddie's hair carefully, ready topull him off in case he tries to drunkenly kiss him or something, but Eddiedoesn't push it. Just noses there affectionately before burying his face backinto Richie's chest. "I love you."

"Yeah," Richie sighs, closing his own eyes, patting Eddie's head.

And then the words sink in.

His eyes snap open.

Wait - WHAT. 

[javis-beretta]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (3)

and here’s part three! sorry, this part doesn’t have too much plot stuff, but that’s only bc the next one is gonna be pretty exciting. thank you to everyone who’s been giving this story love, you’re all angels. enjoy! <3 (also i’m still figuring out some of the plot of this, so message me w your theories on who sent the letters or send me memes u think race would tag you in!) 

part 1 / part 2 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8

The next day, you stayed at school a little late, figuring you could catch Race after track practice to discuss your… arrangement. It also had the added benefit of allowing you to avoid Jack, who you knew was spending most afternoons at the community theatre across town, helping them paint backdrops for an upcoming show.

 (You weren’t stalking him, or memorising his schedule, or anything. You were just observant. You took note of behaviour. That was it.)

 Race was on his last lap around the track when he saw you sitting on the bleachers. You gave him a little wave and his face lit up with a smile. He winked and kept on running. When he was done, and presumably back in the locker room, your phone pinged with four rapid texts from an unknown number.

 hey babe I’m just showering and then I’ll come see you ;)

this is race btw

i’m really good at texting like a boyfriend

fake or otherwise

Even though he couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes anyway.

 Yeah, okay hotshot

Come find me on the bleachers when you’re ready

When Race showed up, with a red face and wet, curly hair he gave you a cheeky grin, looked around to see some of the track team boys were still milling around, and he placed a quick peck on your cheek. You didn’t let yourself blush, remembering that it was all for show, and you pulled up a Word document on your laptop.

“Okay, so, this is going to be our contract,” you said, preparing yourself for his teasing.

“We have a contract? This isn’t Suits, man. It’s a fake relationship. We don’t need a contract!” 

“Uh, we so do need a contract, Higgins! We need to draw boundaries and limits and we need to stick to them.”

 He rolled his eyes and moved a little nearer to you on the bench, so that he could see your laptop screen.

 “Wow, nothing like a list of comprehensive rules and guidelines to really bring the romance, huh?”

 “Fake-romance,” you corrected him.

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what’s first on the contract?”

 “Okay, first up, no kissing.”

 He spluttered comically for a bit.

 “No kissing? How are we supposed to convince anyone that we’re dating if we can’t kiss?”

 “Look, plenty of couples avoid PDA. We can still, like, link pinkies or whatever.”

 “Link pinkies? Wha-? Are you living in the 80s? This isn’t Grease, babe.”

 “Look, Race, physical stuff may not mean anything to you, but it’s important to me, okay?”

 “Whoever said physical stuff didn’t matter to me?”, he muttered under his breath. But, after a moment he sighed. “Fiine, put it on the contract.

 You typed it up and looked expectantly at him.

“Okay, you get no kissing, but, number two, you have to hang out with me and my friends at lunch and come to parties with me.”

“Technically, that’s two and three. And, I get parties, but why lunch?”

He stared at the ground.

“Spot always sat with us at lunch, so he’d definitely notice if you were with me and the guys.”

“Fair enough.”

You typed that, and then said, “Also, we cannot tell anyone that this is fake. Gossip spreads like wildfire at this school so nobody can know that this isn’t a real relationship. Not even Albert, or your track team buddies.”

“Obviously. And don’t act like I can’t keep secrets. You can’t tell Davey or Katherine. I had journalism with her last year and I’m pretty sure that she would disapprove of this plan.”

He was right, of course he was.

“Fine, deal. Anything else?”

“Oh! You have to come with me on the ski trip trip in December,” he said triumphantly.

Your high school’s annual ski trip was infamous for being the weekend when most of your school lost their virginity. Some schools had the night after prom, but your school had two days and a night spent in the mountains.

“The ski trip? As in the one just before Christmas break? We’d have to stay together for three months to go on that.”

“Listen, no one in a relationship would ever let their boyfriend go on that trip alone. And, if we’ve gotta keep up until then, then so be it. Spot will definitely be there, so he’ll notice if I’m with someone else. We can break up after the trip, no harm, no foul.”

“Okay, fine. But we will not be sharing a room.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Anything else you want me to add, oh wise one?” you asked.

“Uh, well, there is this one thing,” he said, sounding a little hesitant. You motioned for him to go on. “Well, Spot always thought it would be cute if I wrote him little letters and put them in his locker or gave them to him, or whatever, and I never did it. Um, if he saw me giving those to you, he’d probably get pretty jealous.”

“Badass Spot Conlon, who would beat up anyone who looked at him wrong wanted love letters? That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more to him than just being angry and bitchy. I bet he’s got his college boyfriend writing him all sorts of letters now,” Race scoffed.

“He left you for a college guy? That’s rough, Race. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, its whatever,” Race quickly said. “So, that’s the contract, then?”

“Yeah,” you said, satisfied.

“Perfect,” he grinned, and his blue eyes were twinkling again.

“You do know that you missed the bus today, right?” he said, after a moment.

“Uh, yeah, I was just gonna walk home.”

“Holy shit, what is it with you and walking? Do you not have your license?”

“Uh, I do. But driving terrifies me and I’d probably end up killing someone – or myself – if I drove every day. But, yeah, I don’t mind walking.”

“Well, if you’re dating me, there will be no walking. I’ll give you a lift home and a ride to school in the morning, if you want one.”

“Are you serious? You don’t need to do that, Race.”

“Nah, I want to. What kind of fake-boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiled at you and you realised that Race had been right the day before. You could do worse. As far as fake high school boyfriends went, Race was probably one of the best options you had.

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks, Higgins.”

“No biggie. Now, let’s go. The Bachelorette is on tonight and I need to see who Becca chooses.”

Before long, Race had dropped you off at home, with a cheeky wink and promise to text. As soon as you were inside, your phone lit up with a message from him.

see ya bright and early tomorrow morning, girlfriend ;)

You rolled your eyes and typed a quick reply. Then, you went to contacts and your hand hovered over Katherine’s name. You’d have to tell her what had happened with Jack and explain that you were now (somehow) dating Race Higgins.

The phone rang twice, and you could practically hear the smile in her voice when she greeted you, as bright and cheerful as ever. You talked for a little bit about school and she told you about college and you realised that you probably couldn’t put it off for any longer. As soon as you said that you had something to tell her, she sounded more than a little worried.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“This story is going to sound pretty weird but hear me out. You know when I was little, I used to write those letters to myself?”

“Yeah, you said that your mom told you to do it if you ever needed help figuring out your feelings.”

“Yeah, well, not all of the letters were to myself. I wrote some to guys I had crushes on and I swear that I never sent any of them out, but, um, somehow, some of those guys, got their letters?”

“Oh, shit. That sounds stressful. Who’d you write to?”

“That’s the thing that I need to tell you… When you first got with Jack, I thought that I was into him and I wrote him a letter. I was never going to send and I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually have feelings for him, I was just a little torn up because it felt like I was losing my best friend to my sister. But, uh, he got the letter. And, I figured that I should tell you before you heard it from someone else. And, also, uh, Race Higgins and I are dating.” The last sentence slipped out so quickly that you hoped she had missed it.

She was silent for a long time and you were worried that the phone might have died while you were talking and then, you heard a sigh.

“That is… a lot. I’m not going to lie, I am pretty pissed off right now. I don’t care if you were into Jack or not. You wrote a love letter to my boyfriend, while I was dating him. And Race Higgins? Like Spot’s Race Higgins? What the fuck? Look, I’ve got a report due tomorrow, and I really don’t need to be stressed right now, so we can just talk about this some other time.”

She was definitely mad.

“Kath, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She hung up. It was not fine. You felt like crying and crumpling yourself into a ball, when your phone pinged with a notification from Instagram.

@racehiggins tagged you in a post.

It was some stupid meme, and you knew he’d only tagged you in it because people from school would see it, but it brought a smile to your face, anyway.

Race was getting pretty good at making you smile, and you hadn’t even been fake-dating for a week. Maybe, this would all work out well.

TAGLIST: @hungoverhellhound @seriously-ceci @the-butterfly-anon @ben-cook-can-cook @pinecovewoods @brendonuriehimself

[benhaardy]

May I have a ship from both Queen and bohrap?? I have long brown hair and hazel eyes and Im 5’4. I love playing guitar/ukulele and painting/drawing. I love to travel and do road trips whenever I can, and hang out with my friends. Im also a little shy at first but after you get to know me Im really outgoing and goofy. I also really love to read, dance to music, and watch movies :)

i ship you with BEN and BRIAN!

(whos tied for cutest with the queen peeps and the borhap peeps?) ^ 

you guys met when you were on a road trip w friends and you guys went to some house party thrown by someone one of them knew. you noticed that cute blonde and they could all tell: u got the hotssss. you were lowkey scared so one of them went up to him (“his name is ben!!!” they mouthed, winking, leading ben by his wrist to meet you) and once you broke the ice, you both hit it off

guitar and ukelele. big big YES!! he loves listening to you play always. it’s just very relaxing to him after a long day filming, going upstairs to find you just in your guys’ room, playing with either. he always has a request for a song for you to learn and usually it’s one completely out of the blue (you didn’t know his music taste was that different but hey. just another interesting thing about him lol) but totally worth it in the end because they’re usually beautiful.

ben this for me, will you, baby? | ben link to the tab* | next day | mrs. hardy

sooooo you learn it. and you love it. and when he comes back home from set you guys get upstairs and he just plops down on the bed on his belly and closes his eyes. he doesn’t hear you come in with your guitar but when you sit down on the bed he doesn’t respond. you start playing what you learned while he was away. once ben hears it, he rolls over on his back and opens one eye, smiling at you.

his deep ass voice trying to sing this song very high is hilarious and a sound to hear. you both laugh once you conclude, his more of a coughing fit from the pitch which made you laugh even more

“it’s all i could listen to when i was away, love.” he props up on his elbow and moves a piece of hair from out of your eyes. “it reminded me of you.”

ben’s just a witty sarcastic good and his dry humor is something you enjoy. safe to say this boy with not too many smiles is ever-smiling around you. he loves your infectious goofy personality and can’t help but come out of his little shell.

you two often take frankie to dog friendly cafes. while she and ben are probably meeting a lifetimes worth of friends, you’re just sitting in an armchair, reading and every once in a while you look up and see your dog-ter and ya boy just having a blast with the others (ben having his time w the dogs and frankie fawning over the humans)

speaking of frankie: she stays w his parents when you guys go on your trips and such and you guys are off! you usually rent a car in this new place and just take it around. the best was probably when you guys drove around pretty much everywhere in the us and europe during the summer and practically lived out of hotels and cars and a new place every week.

(slow dancing at 2 am in a fancy hotel in new york: priceless)

(at a fairy light and candlelit special little place tucked away somewhere in italy slow dancing barefoot: I M P E C C A B L E)

ofc during the lulls in life and your travels, you drew and when you could, painted. ben loves being your model and plays around at first, but he puts on a serious face for you to draw.

you watch his work during road trips and he teases you about it so you just switch to another movie once you notice that he’s looked on your tablet/phone before he could open his mouth.

eyes!!!! he loves your eyes!!!! and your hair but your eyes are just his favourite.

they’re so cute ahh!!

yall met at a studio where you were playing as a session artist for a band. word had gotten around the place that there was a new very talented guitarist in town who had been recording with pretty much anyone new and old on the scene. you didn’t know but the guys were watching you from behind the glass as you were working with the other members, faced away from queen. you played a riff and recorded a bit and then you took a break. you walked through the door and surprise! the biggest artists that recorded at this studio were right in front of you, including your music and um uhhhh maybe celebrity crush brian may???? you introduced yourselves (and mayyybee your hands shook as you shook bri’s hand which was btw the first and last time that ever happened when you met someone).

“brian here has a little crush on you, darling!” freddie exclaimed, interrupting you and bri’s conversation. roger and john’s snickers were heard from them on the couch, lounging. “freddie?!”

spoiler alert: freddie was very right.

though he’s normally pretty quiet, you bring out a louder side in him where his voice doesnt sound ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶦˢ all gentle and shit but just louder! ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs!

guitar, stringed instruments, music: you two love, of course. you both often jammed together and composed together. your house was basically the studio or your guys’ music room. you each had your own guitars (and you have some ukeleles) and there’s always one in every room.

“hm, what about this, love?” *plays super complex shit on the spot and on one try and doesn’t fuck up and doesn’t sound bad even though it’s basically made the second it has to be played* “dude. c’mon.” you pout. “don’t worry, lovely, maybe one day you’ll be this good.” you roll your eyes but bri being bri he immediately starts apologizing and puts his guitar back down on the stand. he puts his arm around you like a loose headlock. “you will be this good and greater. i’m sure of it, love.”

(if that doesn’t make sense you’re used to having a lot of tries to perfect your stuff and you’re basically working on improvising more)

when you’re done for the day and he’s just sitting on the ground w his guitar and you’re on the couch, you like drawing him. bri’s face is just like. a wonder. and he doesn’t think he deserves a drawing (“it’s too much work, darling, you don’t have to!”) but you win. every. time.

one of your anniversary gifts to him was this sketchbook filled with finished and half-finished drawings, most of him. there are little-unfinished song lyrics all about, little love notes and scrawlings and quotes from your favourite books around his curls, around your drawings. you wrote him a long letter telling him about everything.

gatherings with friends!! as you travel, you meet new ones but your old ones come along with you on trips sometimes and it’s all just fun. they love bri and am so happy for you that you’ve found someone like this.

(also when they met queen they all shit their pants)

you love dragging him to movies and normally he doesn’t know if he’ll like it but in the middle, you look over and he’s shoveling his vegetarian snacks you snuck in in your bag into his mouth.

he likes playing with your hair like you like playing with his. it started out as teasing you for how much you’re in his hair but it’s actually a little calming.

lol kinda went overboard on the music but like. music man its beautiful. i kind of left out ukelele a bit i apologize! thank you for sending in a request i hope you like it!

SHIPS ARE CLOSED!

[beepbeep-losers]

boys and a bathroom

part 2: party

College au. Modern au. Stan and Eddie room together and are friends with Mike. Ben rooms with Mike and is dating Beverly, who is in an apartment with Richie and Bill. They’re sophomores.

part 1 // part 3 // part 4

now on AO3

Pairing: Stenbrough

Side pairings: Reddie and Benverly

Warning: alcohol, uhhhhhhh not much else tbh. Eddie is a flirty drunk, Stan and Bill both blush a lot.

Length: 2.1k words

Stan

Stanley Uris may have been just a little tipsy. He and Eddie had showed up giggling at Mike’s door, Eddie waving goodbye to their Uber driver (who, he said, had been “so fucking cute”). Stan was certain he’d be dragging Eddie off of someone later that night.

Now, Stan and Eddie were dancing in Mike’s living room. There were at least fifteen people in the apartment already, and Mike’s roommate hadn’t even arrived with his friends yet. When Mike popped up next to them with their drinks, Eddie was busy grinding into Stan and Stan was laughing at him.

“Here, guys,” Mike said, grabbing their attention. They cheered and took their drinks. “It’s punch – I made it myself.”

The drink was fruity and sweet and Stan hummed his appreciation at not being given beer or something equally gross. He left Eddie on the dance floor to follow Mike back into the kitchen.

“How much did you two drink before you came?” Mike asked.

Stan blushed a little. “A few shots a piece, and a strawberita each.”

“Eddie is already gone,” Mike commented, watching Eddie dancing happily to the upbeat music. “I watered down his punch a little.”

Stan tried to force the permanent grin being tipsy gave him from his face before asking, “Did you water mine down?”

Mike was shaking his head “no” when four people walked into the kitchen.

“Did I hear something about watering shit down?” one of them said loudly. He had thick-rimmed glasses and a mess of curly black hair. “Fuck is that about?”

“Ignore him,” another guy said. This one was blond with kind eyes and a pretty redheaded girl at his side. “That’s Richie.”

“The Trashmouth?” Mike asked knowingly. The other guy nodded and Richie gushed.

“Awe, Benny-boy, you talk about me!”

“You’re Ben!” Stan blurted. “Mike’s roommate.” Shit, he probably sounded tipsy as fuck. He blushed again.

“Yeah, I am,” Ben said, reaching out to shake Stan’s hand. “This is Bev, and that’s Bill.”

Ben motioned to the boy on his other side who had dark brown hair that seemed to have an almost red tint, gorgeous blue eyes, and full lips. And fuck, was he tall. Stan averted his gaze, embarrassed at his own thoughts. Fiddling with the cup in his hands, he smiled at him.

“I’m Stanley.”

Bill

Bill took a long sip of his drink, standing beside Mike at the edge of the living room and not-so-discreetly taking peeks at Stan as he danced with Eddie and Richie. Richie kept reaching out to touch Eddie’s waist and Eddie would grin at him slyly. He was usually pretty smooth. Bill was kind of the unspoken leader of their group. He was a pretty confident person, he had a good head on his shoulders. He didn’t know what it was about Stanley Uris that made him unable to speak. He could usually talk to guys that he was interested in so easily!

Bill snorted a little when Stanley made a playful gagging face at Richie touching Eddie once again.

“He’d normally fuss at him for that,” Mike chuckled. “Eddie, I mean.”

Bill jumped, a little embarrassed at having been caught watching them. “Y-yeah?”

“He’s not one for being touched by strangers, unless he’s been drinking.”

“Are he and Stan not together?” Bill asked, trying to sound casual.

Mike gave him a little grin. “Oh, no, Stan is single.”

Before Bill could respond, Ben and Beverly came up, Beverly grabbing for Bill.

“Billlllll! Take shots with me! I can’t pull Richie away from that boy he found and I want a drinking buddy,” Bev pouted.

“F-fine,” Bill laughed, and reached out to touch Mike’s shoulder. “You w-wanna come?”

“Sure, I’ve been holding back to check on everybody else but fuck that,” Mike said with a chuckle, following Bill and Bev to the counter separating the kitchen and the living room.

Disposable shot glasses were scattered along the counter, amid bottles of liquor that varied from white rum to whiskey to vodka.

Bill grabbed three shot glasses a bottle of gold tequila that he knew was Beverly’s favorite. “This okay with you, Mike?”

“Fine with me. Good taste,” Mike commented.

Bill grinned. “Bev’s favorite.”

“Tequila is the most effective liquor,” Bev interjected. Bill was pretty sure that she was trying to sound witty, but since she had an alcohol-induced grin, she mostly came off as tipsy.

“Beverly Marsh how dare you orchestrate a group shot without me, you wretched bitch!”

Richie Tozier popped up behind Bev, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He was using what Bill thought was supposed to be his Englishman accent.

“How dare you abandon me for some cute piece of ass, Richie Tozier!”

“Hey! Is she talking about me?”

Eddie and Stanley were suddenly there, filling in the circle that had formed, and Eddie had asked the question to Stanley while tugging on the curly-headed man’s sleeve.

“She most certainly is, Eddie-kins!” Richie cooed, releasing Beverly to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie promptly swatted his hand away, face red but lips pulled into a smile.

“As cute as your incessant flirting has been, can I please get a shot so that I become numb to it? Otherwise I may gag,” Stanley deadpanned. Bill laughed loudly despite himself and everyone turned to him. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he turned quickly to get more shot glasses.

“R-r-ruh-right, so h-how many sh-sh-shots is that n-now?”

“Quite the stutter there, Billy boy, calm down,” Richie joked, narrowing his eyes at his friend’s back. He and Bev traded a glance.

“Six shots,” Mike said helpfully, and Bill gave him a grateful smile.

Bill poured seven shots, keeping one on the counter. He passed a shot out to everyone but Ben, and they clinked in the middle before downing their shots. While Eddie said something about how he wished there was lime, Bill grabbed the spare shot and took it quickly. He met Ben’s curious gaze as his hand came down.

“You cool?”

Bill nodded. “Absolutely.” He flicked his eyes over to Stanley, and Ben followed his gaze. When their eyes met again, Ben gave him an understanding nod. “Just a little nervous.”

“He’s cute,” Ben said with a little smile. “Be careful.”

Bill nodded and grabbed a cup so that he could get punch. He could feel his nerves tense every time he looked at Stanley, and he really needed it. He was determined to talk to him at some point in the night.

Stan

Stanley was having too much fun to notice much else. It didn’t even bother him much that Richie, the loudmouth friend of Ben’s, was constantly flirting with Eddie. Okay, he looked at Bill across the room a little. But that was neither here nor there. Stan was having a good time getting to know Ben and Beverly and Richie – getting to know being the usual drunken giggling and joking around. He had danced with Bev a few times, since Ben wasn’t too much of a dancer and Stanley assured him that he was very gay, so he shouldn’t worry. (Ben didn’t really need to be assured, as he didn’t mind Bev dancing with someone else if she wanted, but he thought it was funny that Stan was so concerned.)

The only one of Ben’s friends that he hadn’t talked to much was Bill, who had spent most of the evening chatting with Mike. Stan was trying to pretend like he wasn’t jealous at all about that. Bill was cute, and Stan had been hoping that maybe he would notice him. But Mike was handsome. Bill probably thought so too. It was understandable. Stanley was pretty small – kind of the opposite of Mike. Maybe Bill was into a Mike type more than a Stan type. Stan took a long drink of his punch thinking about it.

Several hours into the party, when everyone was objectively drunk (save the DDs present), Bill and Mike finally found their way to their friends, who were standing near the center of the room. Some of the other partygoers had started to leave, but only a few. Stan had gathered that they were some high school friends of Ben’s, and some classmates of both of theirs. Mike and Ben were also apparently in a club or two together.

Bill was very obviously drunk. Stan figured he was too. But Bill was such an excited drunk.

“Bev!” he exclaimed as he walked up to their group, Mike following closely behind. “Beverly!”

Bev spun and she grabbed Bill’s hands. “Bill! What’s up, dude?”

“I’ve had the b-b-best idea,” he said, slurring a little. His voice dropped to a whisper, and he spoke softly into Beverly’s ear. Stan’s interested piqued.

“Ohmygod, Bill! Amazing!” Bev squealed. “Let’s fuckin go! I have a needle in my purse.”

As Bev raced to her purse, Stan impulsively reached out to grab Bill’s arm. Bill spun toward him immediately, eyes bright. “H-hey. Stan.”

“What’re you and Beverly doing?” Stan asked, tilting his head to the side.

Beverly popped back up and she and Bill began to race off, but Bill tugged Stan along. “Come on, you’ll see!”

Stan laughed and followed as they raced into another room – Stan didn’t know what room it was – and closed the door behind them.

“Bev’s gonna give me a tattoo!” Bill exclaimed. He put his hands on Stan’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. Stan blushed. “Isn’t that fucking great?”

Stan was drunk, but he figured that Bev giving Bill a tattoo while they were both highly inebriated was not the best idea. He couldn’t find any words, though, while Bill was touching his shoulders, other than: “Oh.”

“C’mere, Bill,” Bev ushered, and Bill let go of Stan and started tugging his flannel off. Stan’s blush deepened and he held onto his cup more tightly, taking a sip.

The door swung open suddenly, and Ben flew into the room. “Bev! Bill! What the hell are you doing?”

“Honey!” Bev greeted happily, waving at him over Bill’s shoulder. Bill was throwing his flannel to the side, and grabbing to pull his shirt off. “I’m gonna give Bill a stick n’ poke!”

Ben’s eyes widened and he went over to Bev. “No no no no no, Bevvie. I love you. But not now, okay?”

Bev pouted and Ben started talking to her gently, carefully taking the sewing needle out of her hand. Bill, apparently distracted from his tattoo idea, came to Stan and grabbed his hand. “Hey, come here, Stan.”

Stan followed.

Before he knew it, Bill tugged him into the bathroom in the hallway and sat on the floor. Concerned, Stan put his cup on the counter and knelt in front of him. “Are you okay, Bill?”

Bill considered him.

“I want to kiss you.”

Stan was pretty sure he’d died. He felt his stomach in his toes. “You what?”

“Come here.”

And then Bill was reaching for him and Stan was letting him and oh fuck it, he may as well, I mean what was the harm, and Bill’s pretty blue eyes fluttered closed and –

Oh, his lips were soft. Stan felt a contented sigh escape him against Bill’s lips, and he slowly kissed back, leaning in closer to him. Bill’s hand cupped Stan’s jaw and Stan’s hand was on the wall beside Bill’s head and they kissed and Stan wasn’t sure how long it went on because everything was a little fuzzy around the edges, but when it stopped he was pretty sad it wasn’t still happening.

He and Bill looked at each other, lips a little puffy.

Stan realized that he had just drunkenly kissed a very attractive guy in the bathroom of his friend’s apartment, and a blush rose to his cheeks.

“You okay, Stan?” Bill asked gently. His hand dropped from Stan’s face and Stan missed the warmth.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Let’s go.”

Stan nodded and stood, then followed Bill out of the bathroom, feeling a little dazed. Bill walked casually toward the group they had left before, where Bev and Ben had returned. When Stan finally got there, Ben looked at him with concern.

“You and Bill were in the bathroom for a bit. You both okay? Not sick?”

Stan stared at Ben. He didn’t know if Bill wanted anyone to know. He didn’t know if it was just a stupid drunken thing. He didn’t know. So he swallowed, and nodded. “Mhm. We’re fine, Ben, thanks. Bill just needed a second.”

Ben smiled at him appreciatively. Stan slunk over to stand between Eddie and Bev, glancing at Bill as he went. Bill was looking at him already, and gave him a shy sort of smile.

Stan didn’t remember much after that.

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[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 4: Don’t You Want Me

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Title - Don’t You Want Me by The Human League

It can also be found on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“Bill, what the fuck am I looking at?” Richie blurted out. The losers had all gathered to check out Bill’s new car. He was so excited that his parents agreed to get him a car, so he called everyone over for a big reveal. Richie and Eddie were hanging out already and arrived first. Bill insisted they wait for the rest of the group to come, so they waited on Stanley, Mike, Ben, and Beverly. The minute the rest arrived, Richie sprinted to the garage dragging a protesting Eddie with him. They opened the garage door to see a big blue van. Richie was disappointed, “It’s a Mom car.”

“Rich,” Eddie began with a don’t be an asshole look, “Didn’t we talk about trying to think before we speak?”

“That only applies to hanging out with you. The rest of the world will take me as I am, you nag” Richie insisted.

“I’m not trying to nag you, just give a little perspective on your Trashmouth.” Eddie huffed.

“Fuck you very much,” Richie smirked at Eddie’s annoyance. “But it does, in fact, look like a Mom car.”

Bill touched his car affectionately then glared at Richie, “Don’t l-l-listen to him, Mama, he’s j-j-just jealous.”

“You named it Mama? It’s definitely a Mom car now.” Mike agreed. Richie turned to Mike for a high five and Mike obliged, perhaps for the first time.

“No! It’s a v-v-van that some women who are mothers d-d-drive. But it is not a car s-s-specifically for mothers.” Bill argued, almost shielding his car as if the insults from Richie and Mike were hurting its feelings.

“Are you a Mom, Big Bill?” Richie looked at him fake seriously.

“You don’t have a car, so you can’t talk Richie. Besides, Bill’s a better Mom to us than any of our parents.” Stanley defended. Stanley always either had a weird comeback or a great dry sarcastic response, there was no in between.

Bill looked at Stanley and smiled confusedly. “Um...Thanks, Stan. I guess?”

All of a sudden, Richie got really excited from the direction the conversation was heading. His eyes lit up under those huge glasses, giving him a bug-eyed expression, “If Bill gets to be the mom of the group then I am the Dad!”

Eddie, who was leaning into Richie’s shoulder absentmindedly, scoffed at this, “What makes you the Dad?”

Richie lowered his lips to Eddie’s ear, “Your Mom called me daddy just the other day when we -”

Mike punched Richie in the arm before he finished, “That’s wrong on so many levels,” Mike laughed.

“RICHIE! Don’t be fucking gross!” Eddie screeched turning around in an attempt at tackling him to the ground. His small hands were hitting every single part of Richie he could reach. The tiny jabs were powerful and calculating. Beverly and Mike were laughing at the exchange, while Ben looked wary of the fighting. Stanley whispered something to Bill that Eddie could not hear, but was sure it had something to do with ‘Get a room’.

Richie, being taller and stronger, got a hold of Eddie’s hands then flipped him around trapping Eddie’s arms to his side and encircling him in a vice grip. “Let me go!” Eddie yelled fighting as best he could but the arms around him were too strong. His feet left the ground for a moment kicking at the air.

“W-W-WATCH OUT FOR MAMA!” Bill cried exasperatedly.

Richie set Eddie down on his feet. “I can tell great Dad jokes,” Richie said obviously and he let go of the struggling boy. “Don’t you know me at all, Eds?!”

“Don’t call me, Eds!” Eddie went to try and hit Richie again but he dodged the blow by grabbing Eddie’s hand and twirling him around. Richie kissed Eddie quickly on the lips. Eddie blushed red, his breath always taken away from Richie’s affection. He anxiously looked out the open garage at the street below and prayed no one saw.

“We shouldn’t kiss in public,” Eddie grumbled but kept holding Richie’s hand reluctantly.

“Not into Public Displays of Affection, Eddie?” Beverly said as she ruffled his hair.

“We just shouldn’t.” He swatted her hand away and flattened out his hair.

Richie rolled his eyes not wanting to fight more, “Anyway, as I was saying, I deserve to be the dad of the group.”

“I don’t know Richie,” Beverly said knowingly as she tapped the edge of her chin. “Last week, when Stan and I went to the market to grab milk for baking, the cashier asked if we would like the milk in a bag and Stan said ‘No, just leave it in the carton.’”

Bill laughed remembering aloud, “And when I t-t-told him I was hungry the other day he said, “Nice to m-m-meet you, Hungry. I’m Stan.”

Ben jumped in, “Oh! Oh! And today when I said, ‘Hey I was thinking...’ before I even finished he responded ‘I thought I smelled something burning.’”

Richie turned to Stanley in surprise, “Stan...are you secretly funny?”

“My hilarity is no secret.” Stanley lowered his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s just not as up in everyone’s faces as yours tends to be.”

“There’s my grumpy, Dad.” Richie grinned broadly. Stanley’s lip twitched about to smile at his friend’s comments. Eddie suspected Stanley always feels a little outside of the group and that being considered the dad actually means a lot to him.

“So when are we doing our road trip?” Richie asked.

“Oh my god...I totally forgot about that deal,” Beverly’s eyes shining bright, “You HAVE to take us on a trip, Bill!” She grabs his hands, jumping up and down. He looks at her in alarm but smiles back sweetly.

“We must do this!” Mike added in quickly.

The group had agreed about a year ago that whoever got a car first had to take the losers on a road trip somewhere.

“Well,” Stanley piped in. The group looked at him, “My cousins live in Vermont and they are out of town next weekend. We could go there?”

“Really, Stanley?” Ben said happily, “That would be amazing, there is so much we could do in Vermont!”

Stanley nodded, “They are pretty relaxed people who most likely won’t mind a bunch of teens taking over their place...hopefully.”

“It’s December so we could probably go skiing!” Mike cheered.

Beverly came over and together they jumped up and down saying “Skiing! Skiing! Skiing!” Richie let go of Eddie’s hand to join their merriment. The three were being totally crazy that Bill, Ben, Eddie, and Stanley stood awkwardly before Bill finally said, “YES! Ok! J-j-jesus Christ guys.” They started whooping and hollering. “But first,” Bill began, “Mike and R-r-richie have to apologize to Mama.” Mike looked at the car, “I’m sorry, Mama. You are perfect.” Richie got on his knees dramatically and kissed the front wheel. Eddie and Stan gagged in horror. “Oh, dearest, darlingest, Mama. You deserve better than me in your life. Will you ever forgive my coldness?” “Alright get up, you f-f-freak.” Bill grabbed Richie’s arm and yanked him up. The two boys were almost the same in height, Richie thinner than Bill, who was much broader. “You’re brushing your teeth and washing your hands before touching me again today,” Eddie demanded. “Awwww, don’t want a smooch from me baby?” Richie made kissy faces in Eddie’s direction. The rest of the group braced themselves for an argument to break out. “I’m not a baby. Don’t call me that.” There was nothing Eddie hated more than being called a baby. As if his height and small build weren’t enough to deal with. Being called “cute” or “a baby” was the worst. “You’ll always be a cute baby to me, Eds.” Richie smirked. Eddie could not believe the nerve he had, calling him three things he hates in one sentence. Eddie opened his mouth to curse him out but felt Beverly’s hand clamp his lips together to cut him off. “And....scene!” Beverly gave them a deathly look clearly fed up with the fighting. She removed her hand from Eddie’s mouth, “Ok, Eddie? Let’s just go inside and talk about Vermont?” Eddie shook his head, “You know full well my mom will not let me go,” Eddie turned on his heels and began walking out of the garage. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Nice car, Bill.” As Eddie retreated he heard Mike say, “Ok but Bill hear me out. Can we call the car Big Bill’s Blue, instead of Mama? It’s so much cooler.”

“No Mike,” Bill responded. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that exchange as he walked away from the house.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket to find the gloves he had worn earlier. Maine in December is freezing and snowy. He put the gloves on quickly and could hear someone’s crunching boots behind him. Richie put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie would have pushed him off if his warmth was not so inviting. “I’m mad at you,” Eddie snapped.

“Seems like a normal day of the week situation,” Richie smirked.

“I’m serious Richie. I don’t want to be called cute or baby. It makes me feel like a little kid. I’m fucking 16 years old.” Their steps began to pace together easily. Eddie was hyper-aware of his surroundings. The last thing he needed was for his mom to see them walking so intimately.

“I know I know. I can’t help it when you’re the cutest in every room I’m in and my boyfriend who I want to call baby.” Richie let his arm fall to Eddie’s waist, so he could put his left gloveless hand in Eddie’s jacket pocket.

“Why do you never bring gloves, ya nerd?” Eddie said softer.

“Then I can’t do this!” Richie took his right hand and put it against Eddie’s warm neck. The sudden iciness made him yelp in shock.

“I hate you.” Eddie smacked Richie’s right hand away from him.

“Love you too.” Richie kissed Eddie’s soft cold cheek. His face heated up in that embarrassing way it always did. The red starting at his cheeks, spreading to his hairline and down his neck.

Eddie shoved him so they were walking a small distance away. “No. Kissing. In. Public.” He hissed out.

Richie went silent at this second rejection. Eddie could tell he was trying to take a moment to compose himself and not blurt out like he usually does. It’s a tactic he had been working on for Eddie, but could not get the hang of not speaking his mind. It was not a huge deal because Eddie loved that Richie could say anything with complete confidence. He just wanted Richie to stop getting so many ‘speaking out of turn’ detentions for avoidable offenses.

The moment lasted about one minute before he said, “What’s up with this new rule? No kissing in public. Literally, no one cares.” 

“Yes, they do. It makes people in this small ass town uncomfortable.” Eddie put his hand on his chest tapping it a couple times. This helped when his breath became short and panicky, “And we’ve always had an unspoken rule to not kiss in public. Empty hallways, classrooms, or if it’s dark outside, sure. But...I just...we shouldn’t Ok?” Richie huffed out a sigh, “I am not a mind reader like you are Eddie. I do not observe people and make calculating decisions depending on the company.” 

Eddie frowned staring straight ahead, “You make me sound like a shitty politician.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t care what people think. You shouldn’t either.” Richie branched off from Eddie, heading toward his house.

Eddie stopped in his tracks looking after him, “Aren’t we hanging out at my place the rest of the day?” He calls to Richie’s retreating back. He knew how Richie got during serious discussions with Eddie. He either makes an inappropriate joke or avoids the situation, but Eddie wanted to keep talking this out. He was not saying anything right to Richie today.

Richie turned looking at him with a sad smile, “You have to go and convince your mom to let you go to Vermont. Me being around will not help.” He took out a cigarette from his jacket and started searching his pockets for his lighter.

Eddie hesitated, watching Richie steadily then said, “Ok...right. I’ll try, but I’m not too confident about it. See you tomorrow?” Richie took a drag of his cigarette and blew it out nodding his head contemplating something.

Eddie longs to go up to Richie and kiss him without abandon. The curly haired boy’s cheeks were tinted pink from the cold. His eyes showing every emotion he was feeling without being ashamed. Eddie wished he could be carefree like Richie, but that was asking too much of him. Eddie looked at his feet and kicked the ground lightly.

“See you tomorrow lover boy.” Eddie looked up at Richie’s patient and kind face, ready to jump into his arms. He willed himself to be in control but it was so hard when Richie stared at him with those brown eyes of love.

“Bye...babe.” Eddie tried awkwardly, almost whispering it.

Richie grabbed at his chest, “I think my heart just tried to jump out of my chest!.”

“Shut up, asshole.” And with that, Eddie turned and walked away but not before giving Richie a wave goodbye.

“NO EDDIE!” His mother screamed.

“Ma, it’s only for a weekend. We will be really responsible, I promise.” Eddie knew the conversation was not going to end well. He tried to stay calm because it was the only way to get his mother to hear him, but she was in fine form tonight.

“I am not letting you and your friends go on a trip alone. You are too young. You could get hurt! What would I do if something happened to you? Or what if something happened to me and I can’t get ahold of you?” She had started to cry at this point, which just made Eddie feel horrible. He used to cry when his mom cried, but now that he was older, realized it was a manipulation tactic that she uses. An effective one.

“Maaaaa, please don’t cry. I will go to the grocery store, prepare some meals, I’ll get your medication, I’ll leave notes with the neighbors to check in on you, and I will call morning and evening! All my friends are going, this is really important to me.” Eddie was pleading, an embarrassing sight that he was thankful no one else had to witness.

“So what? You go away for the weekend? What if you decide to never come back to me?” She wailed.

He heaved out a big sigh, “Ma, listen, I am coming back. it’s just a couple days. And besides, this is good practice. What about when I go off to college?”

She sniffed indignantly, “You can go to a college nearby and come home after classes, it’ll be like nothing is different.”

Eddie gaped at her in bewilderment. He was wracking his brain for how to approach this respectfully and with dignity but the only thing that came out was, “No, I absolutely will not!” He wanted to add a fuck in there but caught himself before a disaster happened. “I plan to get out of this town as soon and as fast as possible.”

“Eddie, HOW CAN YOU LEAVE ME?!” His mother’s tears were rolling freely down her puffy face. It was a horrible sight.

“Ma, I’m going on the trip to Vermont. I’m not a baby anymore. You need to realize that.” Eddie went up the stairs toward his room. He wrenched open his door quickly and was going to slam it, but thought better of it closing the door normal. He closed his eyes, head leaning against the door. After composing himself, he turned to get ready for bed and saw someone on his bed.

He let out a silent scream because he was in so much shock nothing could even come out. Heart racing, he realized it was Richie.

“I love it when I can take your breath away, Eddie.” Richie grinned broadly.

Eddie quickly locked his door. “How did you get in here?” He asked horrified.

Richie shrugged, “You leave your window unlocked.”

“I live on the second story!” Eddie racked his hands through his hair willing himself not to pull it out from frustration.

Richie watched Eddie with a weird expression as if he was anxious about something. He sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the wall casually. His face was flushed and his eyes were really tired, almost like he aged in just the few hours they had been apart. Richie cleared his throat, “Easier climbing in then climbing out, trust me.”

Eddie nodded then bounded over to his closet. He took a step in to grab an extra blanket and pillow. “Eddie no! Don’t go back into the closet! Who will I make out with then?!” Richie yelled dramatically. “I guess Mike is probably my backup.”

Eddie shushed him, “Richie! Shut up. Mom will hear you. Also, Mike would never kiss your ugly face.”

“I am a fucking catch, don’t pretend otherwise.” Richie bragged, “And no she won’t. I’ve slept over many times and Mrs. K can’t hear a thing when the tv is on.” They went silent to listen, and sure enough, the only sound that could be heard was the tv blasting from the living room.

Eddie tossed the blanket to him and put the pillow next to his own. Richie wrapped himself in the blanket so the only thing that could be seen was his face. “Oh, my stars! Do I get to sleep in the same bed as the great Mister Kaspbrak?” His girly southern girl was getting a little better.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Only if you want too.”

“I get to be little spooooooon!!!” Richie sang. Eddie was grateful for Richie’s ability to make light of any tension. “I feel so scandalous,” Richie wiggled his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a sexy way. Eddie would never tell him that it did look adorably hilarious.

“I’m going to brush my teeth and wash my face. Do you need a toothbrush?” Eddie walked over to his desk to see if he had extra toiletries.

“Nah, I’ll just use yours baby boy.” Richie wiggled his eyebrows again.

Eddie gagged at the thought, “You absolutely will not.”

“That’s not what your mom said when I-“

Eddie unlocked and opened his door quickly so he didn’t have to hear the terrible Mom joke.

He went across to the bathroom and began his evening ritual. He washed his face, put on lotion, then began brushing his teeth for 5 minutes. He took a look at his watch trying to stay focused on brushing every inch of his teeth but kept thinking about Richie sleeping in the same bed as him. They’ve shared beds before, up until 13 then Richie would take the floor and Eddie the bed. Even at Richie’s place, he always wanted Eddie to take the bed so he would feel comfortable. Now that they were dating, it occurred to Eddie they have not slept over at each other’s places in a while. It will be fine. It’s just Richie. Eddie thought, but he tapped his chest to keep the panic down.

When he went back into his room, firmly locking the door behind him, he looked over at Richie. The boy had taken his glasses off and was laying down with his eyes closed. He was not breathing heavily or snoring, which meant he was resting his eyes. His body was still cocooned in the blanket but his head was free. His dark curls were sprawled on Eddie’s pillow. Eddie swore Richie looked more like a movie star than a regular teen. Since he was not cracking jokes or making weird faces, he had a blissful expression. Eddie admired his long dark eyelashes. It was crazy to think he was ever not infatuated with this boy.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus Eddie. He thought while going to his closet to grab pajamas and began stripping off his clothes to change.

“Nice undies,” Richie’s amused voice came from the bed.

Eddie blushed furiously, “Your sister thought so too.” To which Richie laughed.

“Not that I actually can see them. You’re more like a blurry blob from this distance.” Richie mused. “The most beautiful blob I know.”

“You flatter me,” Eddie chuckled putting on a baggy sweatshirt and pajama shorts. He came over to the bed. Richie got up so Eddie could turn down the sheets for them. Richie snuggled in and Eddie climbed in facing him.

He brought his hand to Richie’s face lightly caressing his cheek. Richie let out a contented breathe that was toothpaste minty fresh. He closed his eyes again. Eddie waited a moment then asked, “Do you want to talk about today?”

“Today was just like any day,” Richie said nonchalantly. “My boyfriend won’t be intimate with me in public because apparently, this small town is fucking uncomfortable with it.”

Eddie tried not to get offended at the unnaturally flippant tone, “Richie, I just don’t want…”

He continued speaking over Eddie keeping his eyes firmly shut, “So to prove him wrong, that in fact, no one gives a shit, I came out to my parents.” The gravity of this statement made Eddie’s heart pound and his ears ring a little. The hand he had on Richie’s face frozen.

“How did they…”

“They took it pretty horrible. Dad would not look at or speak to me and his face was disgusted. My drunk ass mother went on a long tirade about how if she had a daughter this would not be an issue. She wouldn’t have to deal with a faggot son.” Richie opened his eyes to stare at nothing in particular then added lamely, “As if girls aren’t gay too sometimes, that’s really not fair to the Lesbians.”

Richie’s expression was so heartbreakingly sad that Eddie thought the boy would cry. Instead, it was Eddie who started to tear up. The combination of the fight with his mom and now finding out his actions led to his best friend being hurt, it was too much.

Eddie went to retract his hand from Richie’s face. How could he even want to be near me? But as his hand left, Richie grabbed it and planted it back.

Tears were falling heavily now as he said, “I’m so s-sorry, Rich. It’s all my…”

“Shut up. It’s not your fault.” Richie said furiously. He took his hands and locked them behind Eddie’s back to pull him closer. “Why are you crying? I’m the one who was called a fag today. By the way, why are cigarettes and gays called fags? They have nothing to do with each other.” Richie frowned thinking for a moment. Eddie took a shaky breath trying to stop his tears from becoming sobs. Then Richie added, “I want to be called something cool, like a vampire.” Richie made a ridiculous Dracula face: revealing his perfect teeth and mimicked going for Eddie’s throat.

Eddie gave a sobbing half-laugh pushing his face away. Then tried to bring them back to the situation at hand, “I just could not say the right words to you today. I saw the look on your face earlier and should have made us talk more before you went home.” He watched Richie press his lips to Eddie’s palm lightly. “I wish we could kiss in public, but until I get the courage to tell my mom. We just can’t.” Eddie tried to get his breathing under control. Richie began rubbing small circles through the fabric of the sweatshirt. In felt relaxing and sweet. “You are so carefree and the bravest person I know. I cannot believe you were able to just tell them like that.”

“You are plenty brave too. It took a lot of courage to stand up to your mom like you did,” Richie said quietly.

“Heard that did you?” Eddie chuckled waterily. He brought his head closer so their foreheads touched.

“I did. It was hot hearing you be so strong.” Richie kissed Eddie’s cheek. Eddie smiled at being called ‘hot’, it was a nice change from ‘cute’. Then Richie blurted out, “Can we stop feeling sorry for ourselves and fool around now?”

Eddie barked out a laugh, “We have school tomorrow, we should sleep.” Richie’s hands were starting to do distracting things as he ran them slowly up and down Eddie’s sides over the sweater.

Eddie gently ran his hands through Richie’s black curly hair, aware as he did that Richie was watching him through half-lidded eyes. It was so unusual to look at him without his glasses. He had big eyes already, but the lack of magnification was foreign. Those beautiful golden brown eyes getting darker as Eddie reached behind to keep both hands around the back of his neck.

“Fuck it. You’re right. I hate feeling sorry for myself.” Eddie leaned forward and touched Richie’s lips—not a kiss right away, just a brush of lips against each other. It was enough, Eddie felt Richie’s pulse speed up, and he leaned forward, trying to capture Eddie’s mouth with his.

Richie shifted to hover above Eddie, an intimate position they had never done before. Richie tending to be bolder than Eddie with everything. Richie’s hands slid around Eddie’s waist, up under his sweater. Eddie’s breath hitched a little at the cold hands on his back, but he did not pull away. He always loved the way Richie held him. Careful, but not too gentle, not so gentle that Eddie ever felt Richie was more in control than he was. Eddie liked that about their relationship, liked the way his heart hammered uncontrollably.

Richie’s hand went to Eddie’s heart, “Your heart’s beating so fast,” Richie whispered.

“It always does when you’re around,” Eddie said bringing their lips back frantically in case Richie was about to make fun of him.

He dug his fingers into Richie’s shoulders, into the fabric of his T-shirt, feeling the resistance of the muscles underneath, and kissed him with all the desperation of the day.

He took his hands off Richie’s shoulders, gripping the front of Richie’s shirt, and pulled him against his body. He let Eddie do it with no resistance, folding his body against Eddie’s until they were pressed together everywhere—chests, hips, legs—like puzzle pieces. His hands slid back down to Eddie’s waist and he kissed him, long and lingering, making Eddie shudder.

Their hearts were slamming together through the layers of fabric that divided them. Eddie was drowning in it, in the sensation of Richie kissing him; of letting his hands slide freely over his skin.

Eddie hesitantly slid his shaking hands under the hem of Richie’s shirt, and let his fingers slowly explore what was underneath: the tight, hot skin over his ribs, the angle of his hipbones above the waistband of his pajama pants. This was uncharted territory for him, but it seemed to be driving Richie crazy. He was moaning softly against his mouth, kissing Eddie harder and harder, as if it would never be enough.

Then Richie broke contact and rolled over. They were both panting. One of Richie’s hands had not left Eddie’s waist and the touch was enough to make Eddie explode inside.

“Why…” Eddie said between a big breath, “Did you stop?” He was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Thinking that maybe he did something wrong. He could feel his flushed face redden even worse.

“I didn’t want to get carried away,” Richie said chuckling. “You get me hot and bothered, Eds.”

Eddie smiled, “How are you the more sensible person when we make out?” They both laughed. Eddie took deep breaths to let his face return to a normal shade. Richie removed the hand from Eddie’s hip and turned to his side. He reached over and grabbed Eddie’s hand to bring it around his waist.

Eddie intertwined their fingers as he snuggled against Richie from behind. “You weren’t kidding that you wanted to be the little spoon?”

“I never kid around about s-s-spooning.” Richie yawned through the last word. Eddie squeezed his boyfriend’s hand as he closed his eyes. It did not take long to drift into sleep.

[bonerpillz-blog]

Mellifluous - Reddie

Mellifluous - A sound that is sweet, smooth, and pleasing to hear.

(Part One - Technically in Richie’s POV)

Reddie AU- Richie Tozier, a 17 year old broken boy in a broken home and his best friend/first love, Eddie Kaspbrak, a 16 year old mute boy who’s silence is loud enough to keep Richie sane.

Hi Guys! So this is really just the “introductory” chapter I guess so nothing really happens. I have a lot of ideas for what I want to happen in this fanfic and I’m really excited to see how it turns out as well as the response it gets, but the first few chapters have to explain the setting first. I hope that’s okay & I hope you all enjoy it and if you do, be sure to check back for updates :-) PS! They can both drive. They’re 16/17 here. -E

Warnings - Language??? (Pretty sure the only swears in this are fucking & dipshit though lmao), very vague mentions of Richie’s family.

Italics - Flashbacks

Word Count - 1.5k

The silence was nice and never awkward, it couldn’t be.

Richie was in the tall grass sat next to Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak, his best friend of four or so years now and maybe someday, something more. Richie watched Eddie writing in his notebook. He never knew what Eddie wrote, he didn’t want to ask not knowing if it was personal or not. Richie always assumed that was as Eddie never offered the brown leather book to him but he was alright with that.

He sighed softly, resting the palms of his hands on the ground behind him and looking out across the water. The sun was not yet set, but low enough to make the water look dull other than the glimmers from the star itself.

Richie felt a tap on his upper arm and turned his head to see Eddie with his right eyebrow raised.

“What?” Richie asked simply, staring at the smaller framed boy next to him.

Eddie pointed at him before giving a thumbs up, his eyebrow still raised.

Richie smiled. “I’m good, Eds.”

Eddie glared at the nickname, causing Richie to laugh as he looked back to the water. Eddie looked back to his notebook before closing it and setting it to his side. The sky was turning the color of fire and it calmed Richie. It took him away from the impending doom of his own home and put him in a place he enjoyed being in.

Richie looked down, feeling something hit his shoulder before realizing it was just Eddie’s head.

The two friends stayed like that for the next hour, Richie humming his favorite songs and mindless rubbing Eddie’s arm with his thumb.

Richie and Eddie, as said before, had been friends for about four years. Richie didn’t know what he’d do without Eddie, and vice versa. Richie remembered the day they met as if it was yesterday.

“Come on, guys!” Richie whined, biking around his group of friends as they were too slow for him, “Let’s go to the party it’ll be fun! Plus, Derek’s mom is a total MILF.”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Stan interrupted, though a grin was still planted on his face.

“We were all planning to have another movie night at Bill’s, Richie,” Bev added causing Ben to nod with her.

Richie rolled his eyes. “Can’t we do something different for once?”

They all looked at each other and Mike rolled his eyes, “Guys you know he’s not gonna shut up about it unless we go.”

“H-he’s right.” Bill chimed in.

“Great so we’re going!” Richie decided, stopping his circle around them and once again biking ahead, causing Beverly to groan.

Richie and the other losers showed up to the house that night and let’s just say, Richie was ready to drink away his problems. He rarely talked to his friends about what went on at home as he felt like it would burden them. They all knew the basics of it and he knew that they were there for him if he needed it but he usually covered up his problems with jokes that weren’t needed and it was never really talked about.

He easily found the kitchen which led him to the drinks. handing one to Beverly who was right next to him. She wanted to have a movie night but figured if she was there, she might as well have had fun.

“Cheers to fucking Stan’s mom.” he grinned, hitting his cup against Beverly’s.

She rolled her eyes and raised the cup to her lips before stating that she was going to go find Ben. Richie was alone.

He downed his drink and refilled the cup almost to the brim before making his way into the living room.

The night went on and the alcohol continuously made its way down his throat, no longer burning. He was dancing with his friends and making jokes that no one was stopping thanks to the intoxication.

Richie somehow ended up on the back deck after getting yet another drink. The autumn air hit his alcohol-based warm skin and it felt good. He found a chair and sat down, setting the drink aside and staring out at the lights cascading across the town of Derry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there but by the time he felt a tap on his shoulder, he was finally fully aware of his surroundings, only tipsy now. Alcohol didn’t seem to keep him drunk for as long as it used to but that was probably because he used it as an escape now. Who saw that coming?

He turned his head slightly to see a thin, brown-haired boy pointing at the chair next to him with raised eyebrows.

“Y-you wanna sit?” Richie asked, stuttering a bit, confused as to why the other boy wasn’t speaking.

The boy nodded and Richie nodded back, watching him sit.

Richie just stared at him before noticing the fanny pack around his waist. He giggled. “Is that a fanny pack?”

The other boy looked down before rolling his eyes at yet another comment made about his dad-like accessory. He nodded.

“What? Your mommy tell you not to talk to strangers?” Maybe Richie could get him to laugh but the boy just smiled at his remark, this time rolling his eyes sarcastically.

“I’m Richie.” He introduced himself, for some reason feeling the need to keep speaking.

The smaller boy seemed to laugh, only a breath escaping his lips as he dug through his now opened fanny pack and pulled out a sticky note and a pen. Richie watched him scribble something down on the small yellow paper before it was handed to him. “Eddie. I’m mute.”

Richie was still fairly tipsy and wasn’t able to comprehend what that meant. “Mute?”

The boy who Richie now new as Eddie grabbed the paper and wrote something again, handing it to him once more. “It means I can’t speak, dipshit.”

Richie’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ as it clicked in his brain. “A lot of pressure on me instantly to keep an interesting conversation going.” He spoke, and Eddie ‘laughed’ again.

They, well, Richie spoke for the next hour or so, Eddie nodding or laughing and sometimes writing something in response. Richie was genuinely surprised to know that Eddie even went to his school. He never really paid any attention to anyone outside of the losers because they were all he needed, or so it seemed.

“Hey, Eds?” Richie spoke softly, causing Eddie to look up at him, ignoring the nickname for now.

“Wanna see if the others wanna hang out tonight?” Eddie smiled and nodded, sitting back up and grabbing his notebook.

They both stood, brushing off their jeans before walking back to Richie’s house. His parents were out tonight doing god knows what but Richie really didn’t care about that. All he cared about was that he’d be able to use his phone without his parents throwing bottles at each other.

Richie unlocked the front door, stepping inside and holding the door open for Eddie. Something about Eddie had made Richie into a somewhat more decent human being… somewhat.

Richie called Bill Denbrough, another good friend of his. Bill was in the losers club before Richie was,

Bill picked up almost instantly, sending a ‘hello’ through the phone.

“Hey, Bill it’s Richie” Richie spoke, twirling the phone cord between his free fingers.

“Oh, huh-hey Richie w-what’s up?”

“Not much. Ed’s and I wanna know if we could get everyone over to your house for a movie night or something?” Richie continued, laughing when he felt Eddie punch his arm at the use of the nickname. Eddie would never admit it but Richie knew he liked the nickname.

“Huh-Yeah sounds like fun! I’ll i-invite the others!” Bill responded and Richie smiled. Of course, he messed with his friends but they were everything to him.

“Cool. Tell your mom to wait up for me.” Richie smirked, hanging up before Bill could even protest and giving Eddie a thumbs up in confirmation.

Richie lent Eddie one of his sweatshirts, the sleeves always ending past his fingers but it was cute on him, and a pair of his sweatpants which were also baggy on the skinny boy. Though they’d been friends for a long time, Richie always still turned away while Eddie changed, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Richie changed too, grabbing a big blanket and two pillows and leading Eddie back outside to his car.

Richie let Eddie choose the music, smiling when he settled on a station that just so happened to be playing The Beatles. Richie felt his heart flutter as he watched Eddie smile at the lyrics out of his peripheral vision. He wanted so badly to reach over and hold Eddie’s hand but he refrained, observing him instead. The almost completely set sun casting deep burgundies and blues against his face. He looked beautiful.

A big part, if not all of Richie wanted this car ride to last forever. He wanted to be around Eddie forever.

TAG LIST: (If you would like to be on this, message me off anon!): @losercrewzer @richietoaster @edsrich @80srichie @phil-lesters-ass @gayzebos

uhhhh hey guys was this good?? stay tuned for part 2 :-) -E

[thirstytrashblogger]

Chapter 5 if finally here!

Prompt: you had a baby with Ben solo and he doesn’t know it’s his until a year later

Warnings: smut, socially awkward, lactation kink, post pregnancy sex, crying

A date! An actual date with Kylo for the first time in what felt like forever! Ooo you couldn’t wait. You were excited to wear real clothes again instead of maturity dresses and jeans with an elastic waistband. A baby blue v neck floral dress was perfect. It was flowy enough to cover your post pregnancy tummy and the neck was low enough to pump milk easily when needed. Sure it was a little on the fancy side for a café date but it was a lovely dress. You paired this with some pale yellow flats.

Ben wanted to look his best for you. He was so looking forward to seeing you again and this date could mean a second chance. He wore his dark cuffed jeans with brown shoes and a crisp baby blue button up shirt with some of the buttons on the top undone to reveal a plain white shirt. This date had to be perfect.

—-

You decided to leave Jason with Phasma for the day. She kept whining about wanting to be the favorite aunt so you obliged. Before the date Ben agreed to go with you to drop off Jason. He waited by your door with a single rose as you came out with the stroller. You looked as beautiful as ever.

“Wow” He whispered.

“(y/n) You look amazing.”

“Thank you Ben. You don’t look half bad yourself.”

He smiled again handed you The rose.

“For you.”

“aw thanks Ben.”  you placed The flower in your hair.

The three of you strolled down the street chatting and giggling. You looked like a perfect little family going out for a nice day.

Two old women walking down the street approached you. They immediately began cooing at Jason in his carriage. You were used to this. Random strangers coming up to you and asking to see your baby.  It reminded you of when you were at university and went out of your way to approach dogs. Ben on the other hand was a little nervous. He’s grown to like Jason a lot and was nervous about a stranger around him but after all, Ben was a stranger to him only a few days ago.

“What a sweet little boy.” one of the ladies said.

“thank you.” You replied with a smile.

“May I hold him?” The other women asked.

“Of course. Just no kisses please.”  odd to say but you never know if anyone has something.

The woman proceeded to pick up Jason causing him to giggle.

“My My my he’s precious. Look at him Mary.”

The woman looked at Jason and then at Ben who looked a little awkward to the situation.

“He looks just like his father.” The woman said

Your eyes widened and Ben was speechless. This baby wasn’t his. As much as he’d love if he was, he wasn’t.

“A-actually I-” Ben started but was cut off by one of the women.

“Ah. New parent jitters dear? Now don’t worry I remember when we had our first born this one wrapped all the furniture in bubble wrap.” She spoke with a jersey accent.

“I was being cautious Diana.”

“haha. Yes I know dear. Just don’t worry too much sonny. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

Ben’s face was red. This wasn’t even his baby. He felt out of place and awkward. He thought you’d feel embarrassed that people think you’d have a baby with a guy like him. A small ‘thank you’ was all he could say.

You were feeling awkward yourself. You felt terribly that Ben didn’t know the truth. You felt like a monster for keeping it from him for so long but kept a fake smile on in the situation.

“Oh he is so cute!” Diana placed Jason back in his carriage where he fell asleep.

“Thank you for letting us hold him and congratulations you two.”

“Thank you” you said one last time as they walked away.

Your face was red from fear thinking Ben would figure out the secret but he took your expression as embarrassment. ‘of course she’s embarrassed if someone thought I was the father of her child’ He thought to himself.

“Hey” you spoke up noticing he was sad.

“I think you’d be a pretty good dad.”

His frown turned into a smile. He nodded and started to laugh.

“So is your whole house gonna be wrapped in bubble wrap when this guy starts to walk? I’d pay money to see that.”

“Oh you wish, Solo.” You push him jokingly. You continue your walk to Phasma’s place chatting and joking with each other.

—

“Hey (y/n), Ben. And how’s this little sweetheart?”

“Hey Phas”

“Hi Phasma. So everything you need for Jay is in this bag. If he gets fussy after he eats he needs to burp. He’s more used to breastfeeding but I do pack bottles for when we’re out. Call me if you have questions.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. You two have fun.”

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“Oh and Solo.” She called to Ben as you two were leaving.

“yeah?”

She pulled him close to her and whispered “You hurt her again and I will end you. Also GOOD LUCK!”

He was a bit startled but took her words into consideration and nodded. “I will. Thanks”

—-

The cafe wasn’t very busy today. You sat at a table for two by the window. The light was on you perfectly so Ben could see your gorgeous features. You looked up from your tea and smiled at him. He had a big goofy grin on his face. He missed you so much and was so happy to be given this chance.

“Are you allowed to even drink that?” He asked.

“I can have tea as long as there’s no caffeine. I would kill for a coffee sometimes.”

“Please. You and I both know if all you had to do to drink coffee was kill someone you’d be sitting here with a huge latté right now.”

“okay that’s true” you two laughed again.

After the date Ben took you back to his place to hang out.

—

“Haha! I win again.” Ben cheered as he won for the 4th time at Mario kart.

“Oh come off Ben. You know I’m just rusty.”

“haha. You seem pretty well lubricated to me.” He said as a sexual joke.

“hahaha you would know.”

“haha”  you two laughed. Eyes met and he brought his hand up to hold your face.

“God I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I know. It felt weird not being around you. Empty.” You admitted.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

You leaned forward go kiss him. It felt like fireworks for both of you. Your hands went to his hair. Pulling it and curling it in your fingers in a way you knew drove him mad. One of his strong arms was around your waist and another the other in your hair. Causing the flower he had given you earlier to fall out. You both pulled away go breath.

“God, I missed that.” He said with heavy breathing.

“I missed you.” You said resting your head to his chest.

He stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head. You looked up at him.

“you wanna make up for lost time?” you asked beginning to unbutton his shirt.

He didn’t respond he just picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. He gently put you on the bed and kicked off his shoes before getting in with you and beginning to kiss you.

The kisses got hotter and he started moving to kiss your jaw.

“Oh Ben!” you cried in pleasure.

After undressing each other he took in your beautiful body. You almost looked exactly like he remembered. The only difference was that not your breasts were larger and your stomach had some stretch marks. Nonetheless. You were still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. You looked at his body. He looked exactly how you remembered, Godly.

“Oh Lord. (Y/n) you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He stole before kissing you again and feeling your bum. He moved down to kiss your neck again and then your breasts. He pinched one nipple and caused you to yelp.

“what’s wrong babe?”

“Its nothing. They’re just pretty sensitive and I’m kinda full right now.” You blushed. Ben had never seen this before and was a little nervous but honestly kinda into it.

“Would you mind if I helped?” He asked putting both of his big hands on your breasts.

“Please” You let out.  He squeezed one of your tits and squirts of milk ran out and fell on your stomach. Ben licked his way up tasting it for the first time. The sweet milk was intoxicating.

“My god you’re fucking delicious.” he said before hungrily sucking at your full breast and drinking your milk.

You moaned at the sensation. He looked up at you with his big puppy eyes before pulling off of you and going to the other.

“Hey now. What’ll I feed the baby?” you giggled.

“Would you prefer I leave you full and aching?”

You pulled him up by his hair and kissed him. Tasting the sweet mix of his saliva and your milk. He put his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it causing you to moan his name.

“Please Ben. Please. I need you daddy.”

‘daddy’ That drove him mad. He couldn’t hold himself anymore. He needed you just as much as you needed him. God did he love you. Craved you. You were a goddess to him.

“anything you desire my sweet kitten.”

He lined his erection up with your weeping pussy and pushed in. Both of you were moaning messes. Neither of you have had sex in a year! It felt like heaven.

Ben’s thrusts were desperate but gentle. He wanted to make you feel as good as you made him feel. You both came in minutes. It felt wonderful being full of his cum again. You didn’t worry too much about being pregnant a second time. After all it waste rare to get pregnant while lactating. You cuddled up into Ben’s chest and kissed him again.

“Wow sex on the first date. Someone’s naughty.”

“I did say I’d repay you didn’t I?”

“that you did”

You laid there holding each other for a while before Ben broke the silence again. He couldn’t risk losing you a second time.

“marry me.” He said just loud enough for you to hear.

“W-what?” You asked confused.

“marry me, (y/n) I’ll love you forever. You and Jason can come live with me and we can be a perfect family. I know he’s not mine but I’d raise him like he was. I love you so much (y/n) and I don’t want to lose you again.  When you were gone I-I don’t know what to do with myself. I felt like I had nothing to love fire at times. I love you. I love you so much and Jason. I love you.” He was crying now. You looked at him and cried too.

“I-I don’t know what to say Ben.” You said confused. His face looked so sad because of your words.

“I mean I’d love to get back together with you Ben. I love you too. I love you so much. You’re my heaven and earth.” You said.

“Maybe marriage wasn’t the best first suggestion but if we can get back together that would be my dream come true.”

He kissed you. His face was stained with tears.

“Maybe we can even have more children in the future. If you’d like of course.” He suggested. That’s it. It’s time. You began to cry. He hugged you and tried to calm you down.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I love Jason. I just thought-”

“No Ben. Remember that night before I left?”

“Yes”

“W-we didn’t use protection that night.”

“Oh”

“Ben, *sob* Jason is your son.”