#and mike would probably hide his face in the crook of will’s neck

[kissboybyler]

being loved by a writer is being sent messages like “i wrote another poem for you” at 2AM and having to read through the most soul-baring piece of poetry ever

[w-wolfhard]

hiii :) I love your theme btw

Can you write some Mike Wheeler fluff, where he gets a bit jealous and annoyed and he doesn't know how to express his emotions so he just shows her a lot of affection when they're alone, like kisses and cuddling.

Thank you <33

JEALOUS by eyedress.

pairing : fem!reader x mike wheeler

warning(s) : none.

wrds frm seb! : first off, TYSMM 🫶 second of all, LOOK WHO'S BACK BABIESSSSS!! yup, me!! third of all, this is so mike LMAOO😭 luv this sm. p.s. this is hella short so sorry sorry

whenever mike got jealous, he would always try to not show it. but even though he tries to hide it, the aggitated expression is clearly visible on his face.

everytime he sees you talking with another guy, he can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. he knows you wouldn't be disloyal with him, and that he's the only guy you love but he still gets jealous anyway. he can't help it!

mike hates it when other guys flirt with you. why is that guy flirting with my girlfriend? he scoffs. he doesn't wanna seem like an ass, so he doesn't say anything to you about it 'cause maybe the guy is just trying to be friendly and he's overthinking it. but no way! my girlfriend's way too pretty and funny for him to be talking to her in a friendly way. he totally likes her. he thinks again.

the frown on his face could reach the ground, and his shoulders drop– his posture is horrendous as he watches and (barely) listens to the conversation you two have.

when you notice his expression change, you ask him what's wrong, but he brushes it off which leaves you confused most of the time.

then the second you arrive at home, mike is smothering you with affection. when you're laying down, watching tv, he's laying on you with his arms wrapped around your waist. he'll occasionally mutter a few words, and press a few kisses on your skin. "are you alright mike?" you asked him, running your hands through his hair.

"peachy." he replied. he dug his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

"you sure? you looked upset earlier when i was talking to that guy?"

he sighed, "that was earlier. i'm in right now."

"what does that even mean?"

"it means that that was earlier, right now i'm content since i'm in your arms." he mumbled. "that guy – he totally had a fat crush on you. i bet he did." he said lazily. you could tell that he was probably falling asleep by the way he was speaking.

"and why do you think that?"

"he laughed at every little thing you said or did. not in a way where he was making fun of you but in a way where he has a crush on you."

"sure mike," you laughed. "all he did was ask for directions. he was only laughing because he went the total opposite way." you sighed. "and even so, you're the only one i have eyes for mike. i have the fattest crush on you."

despite the boy being half asleep, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "no i totally knew that." he murmured. "i also have the fattest biggest crush on you too. we should date."

"we should date. we'd make a pretty cute couple." you chuckled at the boy. next thing you know, you felt his scattered breathing against your neck which meant he fell asleep. you sighed contentedly.

[rainydayathogwarts]

ʀᴏʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴄᴇ - ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

Summary: Steve wants you, but you've got a play thing named Nancy Wheeler who does too. bi!reader Warnings: Love triangle situation but it's not. Not smut but making out? Nancy's a bit of a mean girl towards Steve. wc: 2.1k

You giggle, moving your head to the side to allow Nancy more space to leave kisses on your neck, one hand trailing on your waist as the other helped hold herself up on top of you while you breathed heavily under her "Well go on, what happened next?" She whispers into the crook of your next, her hot breath tickling you. "Nothing happened, I just told him that I already had someone to... fulfil my needs?"

Nancy separates from you, straightening up on top of you to take her shirt off. "Well I'll bet that's the first time someone's declined an offer to be filled up in the back of Billy's car." She leans down, her lips hovering over yours teasingly, only to be interrupted by urgent knocks on her bedroom door.

Mike - of course.

"Nancy! Steve's here!" You perked up at the sound of Steve's name, a hand immediately going up to fix your hair. Steve. What was he doing here? At Nancy's? You straightened up as Nancy got up, pulling her shirt over her head, flashing her an awkward smile when you made eye contact as she moves to unlock the door. "You okay?" She asks, and you nod, unable to tell her about your undying crush on King Steve, because she might have one of her own.

It's only when Steve himself bursts into the room, already rambling, that you put the smile back on your face. Upon seeing you, he stops talking, his mouth gaping slightly as he awkwardly raises a hand to greet you. "Oh, hey y/n. I- I didn't notice your car outside?" You nod, pursing your lips, suspicious as to why he'd so abruptly stopped talking. Were they hiding something?

Nevertheless, you shake your head. "No, Nancy picked me up." Steve nods slowly. Nancy picked you up? He turns to look at her and she licks her lips, a smirk forming on her face, raising her eyebrows slightly as if questioning him. His heart beats faster and all of a sudden, he can hear it in his ears, pounding the focus out of him. Does Nancy know he likes you? Steve's face flushes. Shit. Of course she does.

You look away. They were clearly flirting. If Nancy was into him, she could have just said... But then, you could have too. "Um, I'm going to go!" You state. "I'll walk, it's not far Nance." You continue, noticing her confusion, and sling your bag over your shoulder with your head down as you walk out her door.

"You like her."

"What!?"

"Y/N. I saw that look you gave her. You like her"

"Nance no I don't even-shut up!"

Nancy smirks, leaning back on her dresser. "I'm just saying. It's a shame. I heard she's sleeping with someone anyway." Steve's hot red blush dies out, all colour in his face draining. "She is?" But all Nancy gives him is a nod.

"I think she's really into this guy too. Or girl. She wouldn't tell me how big he is so I doubt it's a dude. I'm guessing she's pretty into them since people don't know. Probably doesn't want to ruin whatever they have with people finding out and stuff."

Nancy doesn't bother hiding her smile when she sees the disappointment and doubt on Steve's face, the wheels turning as he tried to piece together why you would be with a girl. Or was the look on his sadness? But she couldn't care less, because at that moment, whatever side of the dice Steve landed on, she still had the advantage in the game. "Well, what do you want? You are here for a reason aren't you?"

"Um yeah, no. Wait, let me remember-Wait she likes girls?"

Downstairs, you pulled your arms through the holes in your jacket, sighing as you started to make your way home. You wouldn't think about it for now. No you wouldn't. You trusted Nancy and she trusted you, that's what made your little deal work. You both knew that if something started up with someone else, whatever this was would end. And for now, your romantic life wasn't necessarily blooming, no matter how big your stupid crush on Steve was.

You'd still be able to see him given that you worked in Starcourt mall in a small boutique across from Scoops Ahoy, so you'd know if any of the feelings you held for him were reciprocated. And as much as you hated to admit it, that's what you were thinking of as Nancy drove you to the busy mall the next morning, her hand on your thigh.

"Hey there's still time until your shift starts... Meet me in the backseat?" You giggled, climbing over the armrest as Nancy opened her door, taking the easy way to the back, promptly landing herself on top of you yet again. She grinned, both hands cupping your jaw as her body pressed roughly against yours, her lips moving softly against yours.

Steve groaned, hand fiddling with his car keys to lock his car, the other tightly clutching his warm coffee. He shoved his keys in his pocked, the now unoccupied hand coming up to brush through his famously known hair. It was too early for this, anyone in their right mind new that. No one went to an ice cream shop at 9 in the morning unless they're recovering from a rough night. He makes his way up to the entrance of the mall and that's when he sees it.

You. Her.

You and her. Together.

More specifically, you and her making out in the back of her car. He really thought that was Billy's thing more than hers. He feels the scorching hot coffee running down his hand and he loosens his grip on the cardboard cup to stop the overflow.

He could see your smile, the slight movement of your hands on Nancy's hips, pushing her down onto you. He could see the very confident way Nancy pulled you deeper into the kiss, briefly pulling away to kiss your neck. He could see the way you moved your neck, flicking your hand over your shoulder to allow her more space. He could see the way you were so clearly enjoying every little moment with the woman who had told him yesterday that you were seeing someone. That she thinks you had caught feelings for. And watching you, he thinks so too.

"What the fuck?" Steve drops his coffee in shock, spinning around to spot Robin behind him, her jaw slack, eyes glued to the scene in front of them. "Y/N likes girls?" She questions Steve who knows little more than she does about the situation. "If I knew that I would have gone for her a long time ago."

In the shop, with their stupid hats, Steve and Robin both stand out front, serving the customers, but mostly catching Robin up on what had happened the past two days. "What a lying, manipulative, cheating scumb-" "Robin! Look." They put on fake smiles as the famous Mike Wheeler comes strolling in with his little clan. "Oi, hey Wheeler!" Robin starts, hesitantly looking at Steve. "Is your sister seeing anyone? Because I heard from a girl that she might be with this heartthrob person."

Mike looks up from the display of flavours, "No."

"BUT-" Cuts in Dustin, as enthusiastic as always "We have this theory that she and her really hot friend Y/N are a little too close, if you know what I mean."

"Which is weird," continues Will, "because we could have sworn that she was with Billy Hargrove like a week ago. Or at least, that's what we heard."

"But it's completely plausible that they're not together because we know Y/N loves making her relationships public. Remember her and Archie?" Lucas makes a face of disgust as he takes them back to the year before and Steve can briefly relate to the disgust, remembering Y/N and her possessive ex-boyfriend Archie who made it a point for them to let everyone know they were together.

"Oh, well thanks for the gossip guys." Steve scoffs, pointing a finger at them to Robin and chuckling, counting the cash they gave him as Robin handled their orders. "You think she'd go out with me?" Will perks up again, shoulders rounding as the boys start laughing, an argument over who would win you over starting up between them.

Steve shrugs, looking at Robin, whose eyes immediately go wide and she straightens up, loudly 'whispering' "Steve! She's here! She's here! Do you think Nancy lied to her do you think- Hey Y/N!" Steve's head turns to you so quickly his neck might have snapped in the process, but he grins at you, who surprisingly returns the favour.

Steve stutters while taking your order and giving you your change as he tries to make small talk, which very much fails him. You giggle, thanking him and walking to a table near the entrance, so he takes a deep breath and follows you to your seat.

You don't know if you should bring anything up to him, or attempt in striking up a conversation with him before leaving. Maybe you could ask what he needed from Nance? No, it was none of your business. You could ask if he's seeing anyone, but that would be too obvious.

"Hey, do you mind if I join you?" You look up from your seat, smiling when you see Steve, taking his sailor hat off and running a hand through his well-tamed hair. You shake your head, gesturing to the empty seat in front of you, and he gladly sits down.

"Um how, I heard you're- uh." You let Steve sit there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, I don't want to come on too strongly." He smiles sheepishly.

"Out with it, what do you want?" You reply jokingly, but what he says next makes your heart drop.

"I heard you're with Nancy."

"Steve... Nancy's a girl." But he only nods to what you have to say.

"Okay, I saw you guys in the parking lot this morning. And when I was at her's yesterday she said you were seeing someone that you were really into and-"

"Steve what?" You scoot your chair closer to his, leaning in so you could speak in a whisper and nothing louder. "Look, Nancy and I are just sleeping with each other, nothing else. I don't know why she would tell you that. Please don't tell anyone! I'm not ready for people to know I'm into girls because then guys will back off and I don't want them to because I like guys and they're hot and-"

"You do?" Your nervous ranting stops at that and you look at Steve, looking at him with disgust "What? Are you saying I can't like both girls and guys?"

Steve's face goes white and he starts frantically shaking his head, his mouth moving without any words coming out. "NO! No shit. I didn't mean for it to come out that way, I just mean- Will you go out with me!?" Robin's head all the way from the counter snaps in your direction as his voice squeaks as does everyone else's in the ice cream shop.

"I mean. You like guys, I'm a guy. And I like you, and for a moment I'd like to think that you might like me too since Nancy was apparently telling me a load of bullshit." You nod apprehensively, trying to take in the information he just gave you without going bright red, even though you could feel your face heating up.

You liked him. He liked you.

"I'd like to go out with you. Because, even though 12 hours ago I thought you and Nancy were flirting in front of me, which I hated her for, I have to admit that I like you too. Also, I need to stop coming for ice cream at 12 o'clock just so that I can have an excuse to see you."

You both chuckle and a moment of awkward silence settles down as you look down, starting to pick at your nails. "Um so do I pick you up tomorrow night or should I give you a day or two to tell Nancy?" He asks and you look up again, only for the colour to immediately leave your face when you make eye contact with the figure that's standing up behind your date. No wonder Robin hadn't made a noise in a while.

"Tell Nancy what?"

[parkitaco]

byler + 3

It's a dizzy sort of night, Mike thinks as he slumps against the couch, vision blurry as he watches the crowd of bodies in the center of the room. This fact probably isn’t helped by the fact that he’s a bit drunk right now, loud music thumping in time with his heart as he surveys the party, head spinning and feeling sort of- floaty. Like he’s underwater, or something.

He’s not sure why Dustin wanted to come to this party so badly, he thinks hazily, as a girl with blonde hair and red-rimmed eyes stumbles past him. It’s not fun. Mike had thought, initially, that maybe being drunk would make it more fun, but now that he is he’s quickly realizing that’s not true. He’s just- more subdued, now. Not a fun partygoer.

“Hey, baby,” a voice says, and Mike brightens a little as Will Byers flops down onto the couch beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and holding a red Solo cup in the other. “You okay?”

Mike bobs his head, then reconsiders and shakes it. “M’ done,” he says decisively, and Will raises his eyebrows.

“Is that so?” he asks, light and teasing, and Mike glowers at him. “How much have you had to drink?”

Mike shrugs noncommittally, squirming further into Will’s side. “Enough.”

Will releases a quiet breath, fingers coming up to curl through Mike’s hair, and some of the dizziness subsides, grounded by the simple touch. “Okay,” he murmurs, and Mike is vaguely aware of a kiss being pressed to the side of his head, “Do you want to go home?”

Mike blinks up at him blearily, mouth twisting in contemplation. Will’s home is far from his own, he reasons - it’s a whole three miles, and if Will takes him home then he’ll leave and be unreachable for another twelve hours while Mike sleeps, and Mike doesn’t like that at all. He likes it when Will is next to him. He likes waking up next to him, on the occasion that Will stays over or Mike sneaks over to the Byers’ house in the night when he’s lonely and needs his boyfriend.

“My house is bad,” he tells Will seriously, and Will’s face pinches in what could either be amusement or concern. “S’ cold. And dark. And- bad.”

Will’s mouth twitches a little. “Okay,” he says again, always reassuring, always steady, “Do you want to stay, then?”

Mike scowls. “No. Here is also bad.”

Will considers this, nodding and humming like it makes perfect sense, and Mike loves him. He loves him so much. Few people can decipher Mike’s rambling even when he’s sober, but Will always knows what he means. 

“I could take you to my house,” Will offers, hand still gentle in Mike’s hair, “Would that be better?”

Mike nods eagerly, and immediately regrets it when the room spins. He groans and clings to the front of Will’s sweater, and Will laughs sympathetically as he wraps his arm more firmly around Mike and kisses the top of his head again. “Okay,” he says for a third time into Mike’s hair, “Let’s go get the rest of the Party, yeah?”

Mike whimpers, not liking the idea of moving very much right now, even though he knows it will be required in order to get to the car. “No,” he says, squirming closer and tucking his face away against Will’s neck. Will is warm, like he always is, and he smells like detergent and cologne and it’s all very comforting, in Mike’s dizzy state. “That’s bad.”

“Okay, well-” Will starts, but then the couch is sinking as another weight lands on it, and the sound of Dustin Henderson’s voice overlaps with Will’s.

“What’s wrong with Mike?” he asks, clapping a hand to Will’s shoulder, and Mike lifts his head just enough to send a glare in his direction. He’s seated on the other side of Will, and the rest of the Party is close behind him, hovering over the couch.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Mike says petulantly, glaring at all four of them. “It’s just bad.”

Lucas raises an eyebrow, looking like he’s hiding a laugh. “Bad?” he asks, and Mike nods meekly as he shoves his face back into the crook of Will’s neck. 

Will drags a reassuring hand over Mike’s back, kissing his head again. “I think I’m gonna take Mike home,” he says softly to the rest of the Party, thumb still tracing circles over Mike’s shoulder blades, “Do you guys want me to take you too or will you be okay here?”

There’s a soft set of mumbles as the Party presumably discusses their options and then-

“We’ll be okay,” Lucas says gently, and a hand that feels like El’s reaches out to squeeze Mike’s shoulder. “Let us know if you guys need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Will replies, and then he’s nudging Mike gently, guiding him into a sitting position. “You good?”

Mike nods, blinking and trying to make his vision less blurry, and Will smiles as he helps him to his feet. The red Solo cup has disappeared at some point in the last few minutes, leaving Will’s hands free to hold Mike steady as they make their way out onto the front lawn. 

“I don’t like parties,” Mike says, resting his head on Will’s shoulder as Will fishes for his keys and unlocks the car. “They’re-”

“-bad?” Will finishes, smiling down at him and opening the passenger door. “Well, the good news is you don’t have to go to any if you don’t want to.” He gently pushes Mike’s head off his shoulder and helps him climb into the passenger seat, making sure that his seatbelt is strapped. 

“Dustin likes them, though,” Mike points out, slumping in his seat and staring up at Will with wide eyes.

Will snorts. “Since when is Dustin the leader of the Party?”

This is a fair point. Mike chews on his lip, glancing away, and Will kisses his temple three times before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

“You’re pretty,” Mike says absently as Will pulls the car out onto the road, lit only by a flickering street light. Will is always pretty, Mike thinks, that little smile always pulling at the corners of his mouth and his hair falling in his eyes, and even in the shitty glow of the streetlight Mike can see the contours of his face, smooth and captivating.

Will glances at him, amused. “Thanks, Mike,” he murmurs, reaching across the console to slip his hand into Mike’s, “So are you.”

Mike frowns, resting his head against the window and threading his fingers through Will’s as he watches houses pass by outside. “No,” he huffs, mildly frustrated, “I look mean all the time. You’re- nice. Pretty.”

He watches in the reflection of the window as Will purses his lips, sneaking another glance at Mike that he probably thinks Mike doesn’t notice. “You’re not mean,” he says quietly, thumb brushing over the back of Mike’s hand.

“Yeah-huh.”

“You’re not,” Will argues, fingers tightening in Mike’s, “You’re sweet. I don’t even think you mean to be, but you are.”

Mike twists back to face him, eyes wide in the dark as Will pulls into the Byers’ driveway. “Really?”

“‘Course,” Will replies, putting the car into park and looking at him properly. “You say sweet things to me all the time without even thinking twice about it, and you help our friends whenever they need it, and you always remember to do the little things. And,” he adds, smiling a little, and his free hand reaches out to tap Mike’s nose lightly, “You’re pretty. There’s a reason I sketch you all the time, you know.”

Mike smiles a little despite himself, blushing under Will’s fingers. “Because you love me?” he tries, grinning all teeth, and Will laughs lightly.

“Well, yeah,” he concedes, and Mike’s heart does a cartwheel in his chest, “but also because you’re beautiful.”

Mike’s blush deepens, and he glances away, sliding further down in his seat. Will laughs again, quiet and gentle, and Mike can hear the soft click of the seatbelt as he climbs out of his seat, before walking around to Mike’s side of the car and opening the door. Mike smiles as Will’s warm arms wrap around him, unstrapping his seat belt and dragging him out of the car. He slumps against Will’s side, and there’s a blast of warm air as Will helps him into the house. 

“Are you tired?” Will asks quietly, as they round the corner to his bedroom, Mike stumbling in the direction of the bed. 

Mike nods, and Will hums in agreement, dumping him carefully onto the bed and helping him out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “I’m going to get you some water,” Will says quietly, as Mike wriggles under the covers in only his boxers and undershirt, and Mike pouts, staring wide-eyed up at him from where his head rests against the pillows.

“Stay,” he whines, hand closing around Will’s wrist, and Will places a hand on his hip as he stares down at him.

“I’ll come right back,” he insists, but Mike isn’t having it. He gives Will’s wrist a sharp tug, and Will yelps as he tumbles down on top of him, landing next to him on the mattress as Mike firmly guides Will’s arm to rest over his waist. 

“Mike,” Will huffs, even though he doesn’t seem to be very keen on moving anytime soon, “You need to drink some water.”

“Later,” Mike promises, wriggling closer and going back to hiding his face in Will’s neck, kissing his collarbone twice and winding a hand around the front of Will’s sweater. “Just lay with me. For a minute.”

Will sighs. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, no bite to it, and Mike grins against his skin. “Do you feel better now, at least?”

Mike doesn’t even have to think about before he nods, forehead brushing Will’s chin as Will’s arms wrap more firmly around him. “M’ always better when you’re around,” he murmurs, and Will presses another kiss to the top of his head as they both drift off to sleep.

[virtualbunny]

Hey, uhm, could you do the squads reaction to their s/o having a semicolon tattoo? Only if you're comfortable with it of course.

of course bestie 🫶 if I get anything incorrect please correct me

⚠TW: mention of suicide, abuse and death⚠

Miller's squad: you have a semicolon tattoo

John Miller: I think he already has some sense of knowledge of the meaning behind it, and it makes him feel... sad, but also relived. It saddens him that he knows what you've been through (or/and also) but it relives him that it'sin the past. He has seen some students and former students with that type of tattoo or something that's in the same category so yeah, sadness and relief is what he mainly feels.

Mike Horvath: He's a straight forward type of guy so I think he just asks it when you two are alone. He asks if you're okay now and maybe he says a light joke to ease up the mood but anyhow he wants you to know that he cares and if you ever want to talk to him he'll gladly be your personal therapist.

Daniel Jackson: When you tell him about it he lays a hand over your and stroke the back of it, when he sees you almost bawling your eyes out because the bad memories from the past still haunts you. He holds you in his arms. Kissing the top of your head and speaks softly in his warm, husky southern voice that he wishes he could have met you earlier in time so he could have protected you from all the bad. Or at least a bit, however, the important thing is that he has you now. Alive. But I think he also feel a slight anger, like Reiben. Of course not towards you but to everything that has ever wronged you ever.

Richard Reiben: Confused. Confused why you would ever try or want to take your own life. Sad. Sad because when you tell him the reason why, even if you don't really say that much about your past, he gets a clump in his throat and he just wants to hold you close to him and never let go. Anger. Anger is mostly there since he's a bit scared to show his true emotions so he covers it up with anger. ABSOLUTELY not towards you though, he'll pace around back and forth asking why the reasons behind it are the way they are and he wishes so so bad that he could rewind time to fix all your problems.

Irwin Wade: Poor little thing. That goes for the both of you. When he saw your tattoo his eyes welled up with tears and it felt like his throat was about to explode. He definitely knows the meaning behind it. I think that he feels an even more closer connection to you now knowing what you've gone through. When his mother passed away, he had considered or perhaps attempted to commit knowing that his mother was now gone and was now stuck with his abusive father. So again, that's why he feels a stronger connection to you. He probably asks you if should get one as well.

Stanley Mellish: Also sad, but he doesn't know what to say. Should he say a joke to ease up the moment? nah. Should he hug you? maybe wipe your tears from your pretty face? maybe. He's a bit afraid to touch you, like your made of porcelain. But he stills asks you if it's okay to touch you. If you say yes, he'll as I stated, wipe your tears and hug you close, having your face i the crook of his neck while he strokes your back. If you say no, he'll just sit beside you until your ready to either "move on" and join the others again or until you feel like wanting to be touched again.

Timothy Upham: Poor little thing 2.0. He understands, maybe not fully but he does understand. You two sit on a little bench away from the others talking about it, when you showed the tattoo on your wrist his first instinct was to stroke it and leave tiny soft like feathers type of kisses over it. If it's okay with you of course. He holds your face in his warm hands and tells you that he hopes everything that was bad then has disappeared now.

Adrian Caparzo: At first he thinks it's just a regular tattoo so he says "oh, cool tattoo" but when he sees you look away, hide it a bit and just say "thanks.." he probably understands that it has a special meaning behind it. He doesn't ask what it is but he scoots closer to you and change the subject until you feel ready to talk about it. Perhaps he asks Mellish if he knows anything about it. Anyways, he just wants you to know that he'll always be there for you in both lightness and darkness.

[caramelcal]

His Favorite Girl

a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?” 

STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah

i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol

sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x 

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...

“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”

“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.

“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.

His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.

She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.

They seemed fun.

Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.

“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.

She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.

“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.

He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”

“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.

He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.

“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”

“Like an hour, baby. Why?”

However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.

He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”

His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.

He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.

To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.

“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”

Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.

Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.

Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.

“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”

Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.

His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.

“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.

Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.

“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.

He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.

“Luke what’s going on?”

“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.

However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.

. . .

“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”

“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.

“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state. 

They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.

Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.

Maybe it was.

Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.

This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.

She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.

God, he loved her.

“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.

Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”

Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.

Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.

Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”

With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.

“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”

“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.

He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”

She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”

“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.

He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.

“Fuck, Bambi,”

Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.

Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”

“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”

His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.

The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?

Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.

Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.

Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.

“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.

“Lu-”

“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.

“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.

“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”

And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.

[notanacousticsetcal]

run to you - luke hemmings

summary - luke realizes his feelings for you after tragedy strikes and all he wants to do is run to you. 

warnings - nerves, grief, mention of a car accident

word count - 1.7k

a/n - i dont know what this is or if i like it but if it does well i’ll make a part 2 lmao

Copyright © 2020 @notanacousticsetcal. All rights reserved.

The icy glass of the passenger window was cold against your forehead and you felt the soft hum of the car vibrate against your skin. The snow was starting to stick to the concrete outside and you felt the urge to jump out of the car and make snow angels.

Anxiety and nerves continued to swell in the pit of your stomach as Maya drove, bringing you closer and closer to the very last place you wanted to be. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You did want to see your friends. You hadn’t seen Ash, Mike or Cal in several months due to the circumstances and you also had isolated yourself from your other friends, Maya being pretty much the only person you talked to consistently. Maya was actually bringing you closer and closer to the very last person you wanted to see.

He’d probably be with his new girlfriend, looking all smug and cocky, and you’d be glued to Maya’s side all night, trying not to make eye contact with him or the thin model he had on his arm. 

“We’re here.” Maya pulled you abruptly out of your thoughts and you realized that the car had, in fact, stopped and you would have to get out and face everyone in a minute. 

Maya saw the worry in your eyes and gave your arm a squeeze. “Doll, you got this, alright? You look hot and you're gonna go in there and show Luke what he coulda had, okay?”

You sighed and looked up at Maya with glassy eyes. “I don’t know if I can face him, M.”

“Oh sweetie.” She tugged you quickly into a tight hug and scolded softly into your ear. “He’s not worth any more tears. I know you’re ready for this and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” She pulled away from you, her hands still gripping your shoulders. “Alright?’

You nodded in understanding and blinked away your tears. You pulled down the sun visor to give yourself one last look and took a deep breath. You got this.

The snow crunched softly under your booties as you approached the front door. Bile began to rise in your throat and your palms got all sweaty but you kept your face stoic and calm. He would not get the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. 

Maya lifted a ring clad hand and gave a few strong knocks before someone called “coming!”

Excitement swelled in you because you knew who that voice belonged to. 

A tall brunette with soft, brown puppy eyes opened the door, beer in hand. “You guys made it!” Calum tugged you in by your shoulders, wrapping you in the biggest bear hug you’d ever experienced. “I missed you, tiny.”

“Cal, I missed you too. So much.” He felt you sniffle and immediately pulled you away from him, concern written on his face. 

“Hey! No tears on New Years.” He immediately began to chuckle to himself.

You stared at him, trying to appear unimpressed and hiding the smile fighting it's way onto your face. “You’re laughing because you rhymed, aren’t you.”

He nodded softly and pulled you under his arm, guiding you and Maya through the door.

“Look who’s here!” Cal smiled proudly, presenting you and Maya to the crowd and you blushed a deep shade of red, hiding your face in Calum’s chest.

Mike immediately engulfed your smaller figure into a giant hug and rambled on about how much he missed you and Crystal kept trying to fight for her turn. You wrapped your arms tightly around her and apologized for not being around as much anymore and then you felt even worse when she started crying, but she insisted that it wasn’t a big deal, she just missed you. 

Next came Ash and KayKay who each gave you warm and welcoming hugs and you talked to them for a while, catching up on their lives and letting them in a little on yours. They insisted that you and Maya get coffee with them sometime and you agreed, so happy that they didn’t take your leave of absence personally. You didn’t want them to feel caught in the middle or that they had to choose between you and Luke once things had escalated 6 months ago. 

You greeted the rest of the party, your eyes finally landing on Luke only to find he was already staring at you. You immediately looked down and then cursed yourself for being so passive.

6 months ago, you confessed your feelings for Luke in Michael’s backyard at a party and nothing had been the same since. You were so sure he felt the same way but as soon as the words came out of your mouth, he clammed up and stopped talking to you. It was some of the worst pain you’d ever felt. Not only the pain of rejection from someone you had romantic feelings for, but also the pain of losing your best friend. 

You had gotten a good look at the girl tucked under his arm. She had shorter blonde hair and tanned skin and the build of a Victoria’s Secret model. A stereotypically gorgeous girl -- the type you often compared yourself to. It made you think about all the things she had that you didn’t. Luke picked her over you.

About 2 hours into the night -- it was close to 9 now -- you sat on the couch with Maya watching Ashton act something out in charades. 

Luke’s phone starts ringing from across the room. You know it's his because his ringtone is spongebob music. He sits up, pushing the blonde girls legs off of his lap and excusing himself to take the call. He seemed concerned, but you told yourself it wasn’t your job to worry about him anymore. 

About 20 minutes had gone by and Luke hadn’t returned which was a little worrisome. 

You sat up from the couch and grabbed your glass to go get a refill from the kitchen, attempting to push Luke out of your mind.

“Want anything?” You asked Maya. She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks.”

You padded down the hall, your feet bare, and grabbed the wine bottle left open on the counter. The red liquid slowly funneled out of the glass and you practically jumped out of your skin when you saw Luke standing in the doorway. You had to stop yourself from looking down at his black button up or the patch of exposed pale skin peaking through the unbuttoned top of it. 

You were trying to decide whether to scold him for scaring you or ignore him when you noticed how puffy and red his eyes were and how empty he looked. 

“Hi…” You said, not really sure how else to approach this situation. He was really worrying you. 

Luke ran a hand through his hair and approached the island. With a screech, he pulled one of the stools out and plopped himself down on it. His head immediately fell into his hands and he let out an exasperated groan, shaking his head slowly back and forth. 

You stood there, uncomfortable and in shock, without a single clue on what to do with the sad boy in front of you. It didn’t feel right to leave him there after he approached you first so you stood there awkwardly, taking a big swig of the fresh red wine in your glass to fight the anxious ramble you were sure to let out soon if he didn’t say anything. 

After a minute of painful silence, Luke picked his head up and looked at you. Because he was so close, you could really see his pink tear stained cheeks and his glassy eyes. You tried to ignore how your heart broke for him -- you were supposed to be over him.

“Just got a call from my mum,” he said. His throat bobbed and he licked his lips. 

You gave him a quizzical look, expecting him to continue.

“My uh -- god.” Luke shook his head and gripped his hair tightly. He sucked in a sharp breath. “My brother, Ben, and his wife got in a car accident about an hour ago.” 

You gasped, clapping a hand to your mouth. You had met Ben several times since you and Luke had known each other. Always a kind soul and the life of the party. “Oh my god. Is he alright?”

Luke’s bottom lip began to quiver and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. You could tell it was taking everything in him to hold his composure. “He’s in a coma. They don’t know if or when he’ll come out of it.” 

Without a second thought, you practically ran around the island to Luke and pulled him tightly into a hug. He melted into you, both his arms folding over your shoulders and his face tucking into the crook of your neck. Immediately, your shirt began to dampen with the tears he stopped trying to hold back and you ran your hands up and down his back soothingly. “I’m so, so sorry, Lu.” There was nothing you could say to make his hurt go away, all you could do was be there.

He tried to keep his sobs quiet so the others wouldn’t come looking, but even his soft cries were the most tortured sounds you’d ever heard. Hearing his pain brought tears to your eyes.

“Lu, god, Lu, I’m so sorry,” you repeated, holding his head and placing a kiss on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, his sobs ceased and he began to pull back from you, sniffling. You handed him a tissue and he gladly accepted, giving you the most genuine smile he could muster in the moment. 

“I’m sorry for unloading that on you.” He kicked his feet under the counter distractedly. 

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

Luke laughed bitterly. “Yeah, yeah I do. What I did to you… I regret it every single day.”

You shifted your feet uncomfortably. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“Yes, yes we do. Because… because I lost my best friend.” You looked down at your fingers and fiddled with your rings anxiously. “Now might not be the most ideal time to say this, but I feel like I have to. Not only did I lose my best friend… but I’ve always loved you too. My feelings for you are so strong that my first instinct was to run. I was afraid of losing myself in you. Or the kind of heartbreak I’d experience if I ever lost you. But not trying is so much worse and I know that now.” Luke bit his lip. “I love you. And I don’t think I even fully realized it until 20 minutes ago when I got the worst news I’ve probably ever received in my life... and the first thing I wanted to do was run to you.”

[fanmoose12]

Once upon a time, there lived a young woman. She was kind, caring and so very smart. She was also stubborn and careless, as her friends often described her.

Her greatest passion in life was knowledge, and so once upon a time, during a ball at the King’s palace, the woman decided to sneak into the royal library to steal a very important book.

And then, unfortunately, she was caught by a Prince.

“Mike, please.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“I said no.”

“Pretty, pretty please?” Hange batted her eyelashes, staring at Mike with an endless implore.

Mike shook his head. “Hange, no. I’m sorry, I really want to help, but I can’t. I can get beheaded for this. You will certainly be beheaded.”

“That’s only if I get caught,” Hange answered cheekily. “And if I do, you know I won’t tell anyone that you were involved. So don’t worry about this.”

“I don’t worry about myself,” Mike sighed heavily. “I worry about you, Hans.”

“I’ll be fine,” she rolled her eyes. “No one will see me, I promise.”

“There is no way I can persuade you to change your mind, right? What is so important about that book anyway?”

“I’ve heard it has information on some undiscovered herbs. And if I find them, I can use them to make a better medicine. Just think how many lives I can save!”

“And why can’t you just ask Erwin to get this book for you?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Hange glared at him. “This book contains forbidden knowledge. Erwin doesn’t have a permission to go into that part of the library. Or so he claims.”

“And the best idea you’ve come up with is to sneak inside the palace during the ball to steal that stupid book?”

“Hey, that book is not stupid!” Hange protested. “And my plan is awesome! During the ball, all guards will be patrolling the entrances and the main room. No one will think of guarding the library! I will walk in and out completely unnoticed!”

Mike scratched his chin. Hange’s plan actually sounded well-thought. It also sounded way too easy. And that’s what concerned him the most.

“So what exactly do you need from me?”

Hange beamed. “I only need one thing!” she assured. “Only your invitation to the ball and that’s it! I know that as a guardsman, you’ve received it!”

“I was planning to give it to Nanaba…”

“Well, you can give her Erwin’s invitation,” Hange shrugged. “It’s not like he will invite anyone.”

“Then why can’t you just ask Erwin? Why come to me?”

“Em…” Hange looked to the side, avoiding Mike’s eyes.

“Hange…” he said lowly, glaring at her. “Did you tell Erwin about your plan?”

“Heh,” Hange nervously giggled, fixing the glasses on her face. Still refusing to meet Mike’s gaze.

“Goddamn it,” Mike rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“You know Erwin!” Hange threw her hands into the air. “He wouldn’t have listened to me! He’d say that my plan is stupid and reckless, and that I should just forget it!”

“And he wouldn’t be wrong,” Mike noted.

Hange scowled at him. “It’s you who are wrong. My plan is good, and it will work. Erwin won’t even know that I was in the palace. Please, Mike, you’re the only one who can help. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Fine,” Mike finally conceded his defeat. When Hange looked at him like that, with fire passionately burning inside her eyes, her resolve as strong as steel, he just couldn’t refuse.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hange jumped onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re the best friend in the world, Mike!”

“That I am,” he smirked, hugging Hange back. “But no word to Erwin about this.”

“Of course,” Hange agreed.

“And try not to run into Nile. He’ll throw you into a jail the moment he sees you.”

Hange grimaced. “I almost forgot that this asshole will be attending the ball as well.”

“He’s the Captain of the royal guard,” Mike reminded her. “Of course, he’ll be there.”

“Alright, I’ll keep an eye out for him. Well, thanks for your help again,” she fondly smiled at her friend. “But I need to go now!” Hange rose to her tiptoes and swiftly kissed Mike’s cheek. “I’ll see you around!”

Before Mike could say anything, Hange was already gone, probably on her way to run into another trouble.

 ***

“Have you been in the palace before?” Mike asked, as he, Nanaba and Hange stood in the corner, watching the nobles swirl around the ballroom.

“No, I haven’t,” Hange said, taking a sip from her glass. The corners of her lips slightly lifted, as she swallowed the wine. As much as she liked to bitch about royals, they certainly knew how to pick their alcohol. Maybe, she should have followed in Mike’s footsteps and become a member of the guard, as well.

“Then how are you going to find the library?” Nanaba questioned.

Hange shrugged. “I have never been to the palace. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to find a library.”

“Of course,” Mike shook his head in exasperation. “You stole the palace’s blueprints from Erwin’s study.”

“I didn’t steal,” Hange huffed, offended. “I borrowed. I intend to return them.”

Nanaba giggled, throwing her arm over Hange’s shoulders. “Oh my goodness, you’re something else.”

“That’s a huge understatement,” Mike muttered under his breath.

“So, why the King decided to throw a huge ball now?” Hange asked, ignoring Mike’s words. “Today is not some holiday, right?”

“You don’t know?” Nanaba raised her eyebrow. “Prince Levi is going to become King soon, and King Kenny wants to find a wife for him.”

“Oh,” Hange took a better look at the crowd, gathered in the ballroom. Indeed, most of the guests were women. Young, beautiful and rich, they looked so much different than Hange.

Well, she mused, as she took another sip from her glass, it wasn’t like she came here to seduce the Prince.

“I take it the Prince hasn’t shown up yet,” she noted.

“The King isn’t here either,” Nanaba said.

“And that’s good,” Mike concluded. “That means that as Prince’s advisor, Erwin isn’t present as well. And Nile will surely be accompanying The King.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t stay here for long, when they enter the ballroom,” Hange nodded. “That’s what I was planning to do anyway. I’m actually waiting for the royal family to enter, so I can quietly sneak out, using the commotion.”

“Be careful,” Nanaba reminded. “I really don’t want to come to your execution.”

“I think my head will look great in the basket,” Hange joked. “Or maybe, they’ll even put it on a stick!”

“I take my words back,” Nanaba gave her a hard gaze. “You’re terrible, and so is your humor.”

“Aw, come on!” Hange laughed. “I know you love me, Nana!”

“Unfortunately,” she rolled her eyes, hiding a fond smile.

“Ladies, get ready,” Mike jerked his head in the direction of the big doors. “The King and the Prince are here.”

And in the next moment, the doors opened and the music stopped. A tall, proud man with a golden crown on his head and a wide grin on his face entered the room.

“That’s King Kenny,” Nanaba whispered in Hange’s ear. “And that’s,” she pointed to a shorter guy, who followed him. “That’s Prince Levi.”

Hange cocked her head, curiously regarding the young man. He had black shiny hair, his skin was almost white as a paper and his eyes were narrow. He regarded his guests with a displeasured, almost annoyed expression.

Hange huffed, as she turned away from that man. All those people traveled through the whole country just so they could meet him, and that’s how he greets them? Why even organize the ball, if you don’t enjoy it?

Truly, she would never understand those royals.

But there was no time to dwell on it now, she had an important job.

“It’s time for me to go,” she whispered to her friends, briefly squeezing their shoulders.

“Good luck,” Nanaba kissed her cheek.

“Don’t get distracted,” Mike advised, softly patting her hair.

Hange saluted to them with a crooked smile, and then disappeared into the crowd, heading to the side doors of the ballroom.

 ***

Levi lazily regarded the crowd of guests, gathered below him. Nobles from the whole kingdom sent their offspring to the capital, all of them hoping for one thing – that one of their daughters will be lucky enough to become his wife.

It disgusted Levi. Looking at all those young girls, who gazed at him with so much hope and who cared for nothing more than a crown on his head, he felt sick.

“See someone you like?” his uncle whispered into his ear, placing a hard hand onto his shoulder.

“No.” Levi curtly replied, shaking off Kenny’s arm.

“Too bad,” Kenny hummed. “Because if you don’t have at least one dance until midnight comes, I’m picking your fiancé myself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Levi hissed. “Don’t you think that I should choose my future wife myself?”

“Then fucking choose already, Levi,” Kenny said seriously. “You are almost an adult and I can’t keep organizing those stupid balls for you, if you don’t even talk with those women. Get your ass off that throne and go to them. Talk, drink, dance. You won’t be able to find someone, if you continue watching them from afar.”

“Alright, alright,” Levi rolled his eyes. “I got your point, now leave me alone.”

“Good luck,” his uncle patted his shoulder. Then he granted Levi his wish and went to mingle with the nobles.

“The King decided to share with you some of his wisdom?” Levi’s advisor and his only friend, Erwin, said with an amused smile.

“Something like that,” Levi grumbled, his eyes once again scanning the ballroom. Trying to find a woman, who repelled him the least.

And as he kept looking, Levi noticed a figure, which walked away from the crowd. A woman in an awfully bright green dress separated from the rest of the nobles and headed towards the side door. Levi narrowed his eyes, watching her movements.

“Is something wrong?” Erwin asked. He followed Levi’s gaze, but before he could see that woman, she already disappeared behind the door.

“I need to check something,” Levi said, starting to move. That woman was definitely a thief, and Levi had to stop her. What kind of King he would become, if he lets some strangers rob his palace? “I won’t be gone for too long. Stay here and watch Kenny. If he asks where I am, tell him I went to the bathroom.”

“And where are you really going?” Erwin furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’ll tell you after I’m done,” there was no time to waste, after all. The thief could disappear with her booty any moment.

 ***

Levi slowly made his way through the palace’s corridors, straining his ears to hear something, except the muffled sounds of music from the ballroom. As he continued to wonder around, entering each room and finding nothing, Levi started to regret coming here all alone. Maybe, he should have taken Erwin with him. Or better yet, he should have asked Erwin’s friend, the guardsman named Mike, to accompany him. Everyone in the palace knew about Mike’s exceptional ability to pick up the faintest of smells. He would have come in handy in this situation.

And then, when Levi almost lost all hope of finding the thief by himself, when he almost turned back to return to the ballroom, he saw it – a faint, flickering ray of light beneath one of the doors. Levi raised his head. He was standing in front of a library.

So that woman decided to steal a book? That was something new.

Carefully, he laid his palm on the door’s handle, trying to open it as quietly as possible. A moment later, he walked inside the room, stopping in the middle and looking around. He was surrounded by rows and rows of bookshelves, but there was no sign of the thief. Levi’s eyes darted from corner to corner, trying to locate the intruder.

He walked further into the room and there, he finally found her. The woman was standing inside the small section of a library, which was separated from the rest of the room by heavy, tall gates.

So she was looking for the forbidden books, huh?

However, the gates didn’t seem to be much of an obstacle to that woman, as she successfully managed to get past them. Now she was facing away from Levi, shifting through book after book.

She was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t even notice Levi’s arrival.

Well, he couldn’t just miss the opportunity to scare the shit out of her, right?

So Levi cleared his throat. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked and watched with amusement how the woman instantly froze. Her shoulders shook slightly, and Levi almost smirked, as he waited for her to scream in panic.

But she didn’t.

Instead, the woman turned around, an innocent smile on her lips. “I’m sorry,” she said in a sweet, slightly confused voice. “It seems like I’ve turned the wrong corner. It’s not bathroom, is it?”

“Really?” Levi crossed hands on his chest, his cold grey eyes boring into that woman. He took another look at her – she had a long nose, large forehead, thin lips and messy brown hair that reached to her shoulders. There was also a big, round glasses on her face. Fucking four-eyes, Levi thought to himself. “Do you often shit in the library?”

And then, that four-eyes shocked Levi again – she started laughing. Loudly and boisterously, with her head thrown back.

“Alright, alright,” she raised her hands in a placating gesture. “You’ve caught me, I was actually trying to steal a book.”

“You don’t say,” Levi deadpanned.

Four-eyes giggled again, as though not realizing that Levi could say one word and that pretty head of hers would instantly appear on a spike. Not that Levi found her head, or anything about that woman, to be pretty.

“So now what?” four-eyes cocked her head to the side. “Are you going to call the guards?”

Yes, Levi almost said. That was what he had to do. Even if he had caught her before she managed to steal anything, four-eyes still was a thief. And thieves had to be punished. By cutting their hand or their head, it all depended on how much annoying the criminal was. And that woman… she was extremely annoying.

But then Levi got an idea.

“I won’t tell anyone about your sorry attempt, if,” he paused, carefully regarding her. “If you do me a favor.”

“Anything,” four-eyes replied without hesitation.

Levi nodded, satisfied with her eagerness. “I need you to dance with me.”

It was an amazing idea, and Levi mentally congratulated himself on his quick wit. Kenny’s condition was that he had to dance with at least one girl until midnight. And if he dances with four-eyes, who was obviously a commoner, Kenny would never agree to let Levi marry her. And that meant that Levi would get another few months of peace and quiet, without boring tea-parties and lengthy walks through the gardens with annoying foreign princesses.

Yes, excellent idea.

Although, the bespectacled woman obviously didn’t share his opinion.

“You want to dance with me?” she asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Weird. I saw the glasses on your faces, and thought you were blind. But it turns out, you are actually deaf, huh?”

“Oi!” four-eyes glared at him. “I’m not deaf! Or blind! I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

“And you don’t have to,” Levi shrugged. “All you need to do is to have one dance with me, and then you’ll be free to go.”

“You promise?” she looked at him suspiciously.

“I swear.”

“Alright then!” the change in four-eyes was instant. One moment, she was carefully regarding Levi, and in the next, she grabbed his hand with a wide, almost wild grin. “Let’s go and dance, shorty!” she exclaimed, dragging him out of the library.

As he followed that strange woman, Levi couldn’t quite understand one thing. Four-eyes was at the ball, she had to know who he was. But she acted like she didn’t care in the slightest. She behaved around him like he wasn’t a crowned Prince, but a simple commoner.

And, surprisingly, Levi liked that. A lot.

Maybe, this girl wasn’t as annoying as he initially thought.

 ***

Their hands were still linked, when they entered the ballroom. And as soon as they appeared, all eyes were on them. The guests, who were previously dancing, now stopped, staring at them with unmasked surprise.

“I don’t like all this attention,” four-eyes whispered.

“Don’t mind them,” Levi whispered back, dragging her to the center of the room.

There, he stood and laid his hand on four-eyes’ waist. As he turned to face her, Levi realized that she was taller than him.

Annoying, Levi mentally tsked. Good thing he wasn’t going to actually marry her.

The scowl on his face deepened, as everyone still continued looking at him like he had grown a second head. Even the musicians stopped playing, too shocked by his arrival. Levi sent them a vicious glare, and, thankfully, they got the hint, resuming their work.

The guests started to dance again. Levi and his mysterious companion joined them.

“Is it a good time to tell you that I don’t know how to dance?” four-eyes asked, that infuriating grin still plastered on her lips.

“It’s fine,” Levi grumbled, turning his face away to hide his wince, when she stepped on his toes.

However the discomfort, Levi was somewhat pleased by this fact. He was sure that Kenny was starting to go insane, as he watched them dance. Yes, he couldn’t have found a better dance partner, Levi was sure of it.

“This dress is terrible, by the way,” Levi commented, as he spun her around. “And your hair is awfully messy.”

“Oh, forgive me,” four-eyes snapped. “I couldn’t have known that I’ll be dancing with the Prince himself. If I had, I would have taken more care about my appearance.”

“So you know who I am?” Levi gasped. “Then why do you act like—”

“Like I don’t care?” she cut him off. “That’s exactly why. I don’t care. You may be a Prince and a fucking heir to the throne, but that doesn’t mean you’re in any way better than me.”

Levi didn’t know what to say to this, staring at her with wide eyes like some kind of an idiot. This woman in front of him… however, annoying and infuriating she was, but she amazed him. She was the first one to treat him like this, like he was just a human being, like the crown on his head was nothing more than a piece of useless jewelry.

“What’s your name?” he asked, a little breathlessly.

She smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “That’s a secret.”

“That’s unfair!” Levi frowned. “You know my name.”

“Life isn’t always fair, your highness.”

Oh goodness, that four-eyes was so annoying! To call her infuriating – that was definitely an understatement. Levi had never met a person who pissed him off so much. Even his uncle didn’t have that kind of effect on him. Although… Levi couldn’t deny it – she also intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her, to untangle all of her mysteries and enigmas, to find out the meanings of each of her smiles.

“Alright then,” Levi huffed. “How should I call you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s totally up to you, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that,” Levi hissed. “My name is Levi. And if you don’t care how I address you, then I’ll be calling…” he trailed off, studying her expression, “then I’ll be calling you four-eyes.”

“Four-eyes?” the woman laughed. It was a loud, completely unladylike sound. Levi liked it.

“Yes,” he nodded, his arm reaching out to touch the side of her face. “Because of those stupid glasses.”

That seemed to catch four-eyes completely off-guard. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. She looked completely ridiculous, and Levi mentally patted himself on a shoulder for surprising her. He imagined it was a rare look for her, and he was glad to wipe off that cocky grin from her face.

However, before he could really relish in this sight, the song ended. Four-eyes took a step back.

“Well, we’ve finished our dance. It’s time for me to go,” and maybe, it was just Levi’s imagination, his stupid wishful thinking, but she seemed reluctant.

“No,” he didn’t mean to sound so desperate.

He also didn’t mean to grab her palm once more, squeezing it tightly in his own.

Four-eyes looked at him in confusion, her gaze darting to their joined hands. “You promised that you’ll let me go after this dance.”

“And I will,” Levi assured her. “But I… I want…” what exactly he wanted? Levi didn’t yet know the answer to this question. But he knew that he didn’t want to let go of her just yet, that he couldn’t say goodbye to her right now.

“I want to have a walk with you. Please, just ten more minutes,” he hastily added, when a hesitant expression appeared on four-eyes’ face. “And then you can go.”

“All of you nobles are so demanding,” four-eyes shook her head. “But if you want it so much, then fine.”

“Thank you,” Levi said sincerely.

Then, ignoring the stares of his guests, Levi led four-eyes out of the ballroom and into the palace’s gardens.

“I have to admit,” a smile bloomed on four-eyes’ lips. It was so beautiful, so sincere and happy that Levi’s breath hitched in his throat. “Your gardens are amazing.”

“You should see them in spring,” Levi said, ignoring the beating of his heart. It was so loud he was sure that four-eyes heard it, too. They still held hands, and Levi caught himself thinking that he didn’t want to let go. Not now, not ever.

“Maybe, I can sneak into your palace then,” four-eyes chuckled.

“You don’t have to,” Levi blurted out without thinking.

“Huh?”

“I mean…” Levi stuttered. “You don’t have to sneak in. You can visit. Anytime you want.”

That same surprised expression returned to four-eyes’ face. But this time, she quickly masked it with a grin. “Are you giving me a royal permission?”

Levi felt a smirk tug on his lips. Four-eyes’ mischief was contagious. “Yeah, something like that.”

They reached a small bench, hidden behind two large trees. Levi sat down on it and four-eyes joined him, sitting so close that her shoulder brushed against his. She raised her head to stare at the sky, her eyes sparkling as bright as the stars above. Levi couldn’t look away.

“I guess asking you about your family will be pointless?” he quietly asked.

Four-eyes shrugged. “I don’t really have a family. I live with a friend.”

“Just a friend?” Levi wondered why he suddenly got so nervous.

“Just a friend,” four-eyes replied with a smile.

“And what do you do? Or is it another secret?”

“Not really,” she said. “I am a scholar. Of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“Well, you won’t find my books in any libraries.”

“What do you study then?”

“Herbology.”

“Oh,” Levi breathed. “That’s why you needed that book.”

“Yeah,” four-eyes twirled a stray lock of her hair. “I wanted to find if there are any plants I haven’t discovered yet.”

“You left the book at the library,” Levi remembered. “You should go back and take it.”

“What?” her brows shot up. “You want to give it to me?”

Levi shrugged. “It’s just lying there now, gathering dust. I’m sure it will be more useful in your hands.”

“You know,” four-eyes softly chuckled. “You are very different from the others nobles I’ve met. I have never thought that Princes are so kind.”

Levi stared at her, not sure what to do next. He wanted to say something, to tell four-eyes how wonderful she is, how different from everyone Levi knew. He was still thinking on how to translate his feelings into words, when they’ve heard an unmistakable sound of the dangling armor.

“The guards!” four-eyes immediately shot to her feet. “They can’t see me! I need to go!”

She almost turned around, ready to run, when Levi grabbed her wrist. “Wait!” he was surprised by the desperation in his own voice. “Will we ever meet again?”

Four-eyes smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “If you manage to find me, Levi.”

She winked at him and then ran away.

The sounds of the dangling armor were getting closer. Soon the members of the royal guard reached Levi.

“Your highness,” Nile bowed to him, panting heavily. “We were looking everywhere for you!”

“The King was worried,” Erwin added, coming to stand next to Levi.

“I’m fine,” Levi grumbled. “Just wanted to get some air.”

“The woman who was with you,” Nile said, “Where is she now?”

“Why do you ask?” Levi crossed hands on his chest, regarding him coolly.

“I think I’ve seen her before,” Nile answered. “And I—”

“You’re mistaken,” Erwin cut him off. His usually calm voice now sounded almost angry. Levi cocked his head to the side, watching his advisor. Did he know something Levi didn’t?

“No, Sir Erwin, I’m sure that it was—”

“You. Are. Mistaken.” Erwin repeated. He and Nile glared furiously at each other.

Levi observed their exchange with interest and confusion. Something definitely was up, but he couldn’t outright ask Erwin about it. Not yet, not until Nile was nearby.

“Captain!” the voice of one of Nile’s subordinates interrupted the tense silence. “I think I’ve found something!”

Nile immediately started moving, but Levi was faster. In several quick strides he reached the knight and snatched the object he had found from his hands.

It was glasses, the same glasses that were on four-eyes’ face. Levi stared at them for a long moment, the events of this night replaying in his mind.

“What’s this?” Erwin asked, standing behind his shoulder.

“The glasses!” Nile exclaimed. “They probably slipped from her face, while she was running. Good job, Marlo,” he nodded to his subordinate.

“We don’t know if that’s hers,” Erwin instantly protested. “They could belong to anyone.”

Levi felt like they were going to continue arguing, so he just turned around, heading towards the palace. As he walked through the gardens, he carefully hid the glasses inside his pocket.

***

As soon as Levi entered the ballroom once more, Kenny immediately came to his side.

“So my eyes didn’t betray me?” he asked, elbowing Levi in the side. “You were actually dancing with someone?”

“Maybe, you should go to the healer, old man,” Levi said, “Ask him for a pair of glasses, if your eyesight is so shitty.”

“Glasses?” Kenny guffawed. “Like the ones that girl was wearing?”

Levi gave his uncle an unimpressed look.

“Alright, alright,” Kenny raised his hands in an apologizing manner. “Tell me about her. What is her name? Where is her family from? How much land do they have?”

Levi looked to the side, pointedly ignoring Kenny’s eyes.

“Oh no,” Kenny gasped. “Please don’t tell me that she is some commoner.”

“I won’t,” Levi shook his head. “I don’t really know if she’s a commoner or not. She refused to talk about herself. I don’t even know her name.”

“My goodness,” Kenny closed his eyes and sighed. “Please don’t tell me that you want to marry her.”

“Fine,” Levi agreed. “If you don’t to want to hear it, then I won’t tell you.”

“Levi!” Kenny lamented. “You’re killing me! You’re killing your own uncle!”

“Good,” Levi retorted. “Then die.”

“How could you choose her?” Kenny continued, ignoring his nephew’s cruel words. “Why didn’t you fall in love with some nice girl from a noble family or a rich princess from a faraway kingdom? Why her?”

“I don’t know,” Levi replied simply. “I don’t know why I like her so much, but I do.”

“So what? You don’t even know her name, how are you going to find her?”

“I’ll think of something,” Levi shrugged. “I’m not going to give up so easily.”

“You’re as stubborn as your mother, gods rest her soul,” Kenny’s voice was unusually soft. “Fine, if she is the one you want to marry, then so be it. You’re a big boy, I can’t tell you what to do anymore.”

“Thank you, Kenny. That means a lot.”

Kenny sadly shook his head, his eyes watching the ballroom. “All those pretty ladies came here just for you,” he said quietly. “And you’ve chosen some commoner over them. Poor things.”

“They’ll get over it,” Levi mumbled, remembering four-eyes��� smile and laughter.

He wasn’t regretting his choice in the slightest.

 ***

The next day, Levi burst in Erwin’s study. He walked up to his desk and slammed his hand onto the hard wood, right next to Erwin’s face.

“You know something, right?” Levi asked, glaring at him.

If Erwin was surprised by his sudden arrival, he didn’t show it. When he raised his face to look at Levi, there was an innocent and slightly confused smile on his lips. “I am your advisor, your highness, it’s my job to know a lot of ‘something’. I’m afraid you need to be more specific.”

“Cut the bullshit!” Levi growled. “You know that girl. The one I’ve danced with.”

The smile didn’t leave Erwin’s face. He sat back in his chair, his posture relaxed. However, his eyes were hard as he watched Levi’s every move. “And what makes you think so?”

“Don’t take me for an idiot,” Levi narrowed his eyes, his scowl deepening. “I’ve seen your face when I’ve shown you those glasses. And I’ve heard how you were trying to protect her from Nile.”

“Excellent observation, your highness,” Erwin spread his hands, admitting his defeat. “But I still don’t understand what you want from me.”

“I want you to tell me about her.”

Erwin’s jaw tightened. “No, your highness. I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“You’re protecting her,” Levi noted. “Again. Why?”

“Why do people protect anyone?” Erwin lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Because they care.”

“So you don’t just know her! You care about her.”

“She’s a friend,” Erwin finally admitted.

“And you won’t tell me about her?” Levi asked, sitting on a chair across from Erwin.

“I won’t.”

“Even if I order you?”

Erwin chuckled. “I’m sorry, your highness. But there are some things that are more important than duty.”

“Shit,” Levi rubbed his forehead. “Not that I actually expected you to tell me anything, but… I’m still disappointed.”

“Well, if you tell me why are you looking for her, then maybe I will help you.”

Levi gave him a flat look. “Why do you think I’m looking for her?”

“I don’t know,” Erwin said. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Asshole,” Levi muttered. He knew that Erwin was doing this on purpose. But well, Levi really needed his help.

“I want to see her,” Levi felt how a blush immediately appeared on his cheeks. He lowered his head, avoiding Erwin’s amused gaze, and continued. “I want to talk to her, and… get to know her.”

“You…” Erwin stared at him in disbelief. “You like her?”

“Yes,” Levi replied, lowering his head even further.

“And do you… do you want to marry her?”

“Yes,” Levi repeated. “If she accepts, of course.”

“You’re not sure?” Erwin chuckled.

“How can I be sure? Four-eyes is unpredictable as hell.”

Erwin’s chuckle turned into a laugh. “You don’t even know how accurate you are.”

“So?” Levi glanced at him beneath his fringe. “Do you agree to help me?”

“I… will assist you,” Erwin said.

“Alright,” Levi nodded. He wasn’t hoping for anything better, anyway. “Then organize the search.”

“The search?”

“Yes, I’m sure four-eyes lives somewhere nearby.”

“So?” Erwin asked, not exactly following where Levi was going with this.

“So I’m going to visit every house in this goddamn city until I find her.”

“And how will you know that’s her?”

Levi smirked, putting the glasses on Erwin’s desk. “I have this. Whoever those glasses fit should be my wife.”

“Should I spread this message?” Erwin said, already preparing his quill and a paper.

“Yes,” Levi nodded, getting up. “And be ready, Erwin. We’ll start our search tomorrow morning.”

Erwin barely acknowledged his words, as he already started writing his message.

 ***

Levi was starting to regret his plan. Maybe, he should have asked Erwin harder. Or torture the information out of him, because, as it turned out, there were a lot more young girls in the capital than he thought.

He had spent his entire week, going from door to door, looking for that damned four-eyes. And still, there was no sign of her. Levi had lost count how many women he had seen in the last seven days. But none of them resembled his four-eyes even close. And none of them had eyesight as shitty as hers.

It was hard for him to admit, but he was beginning to lose hope. What if she didn’t actually live in the capital? What if she was from another kingdom? What if she had heard about his search and decided to hide, having no interest in marrying him?

Those questions plagued Levi’s mind every time he visited yet another house and saw another girl with bright hopeful eyes. Another girl, who would try on the glasses and then try to convince him that she could see something through them.

“Let’s visit another house and then call it a day,” Levi announced, his voice weary and quiet.

“As you wish, your highness,” Erwin nodded.

Levi decided not to use a lot of people in this search. He didn’t want to make a lot of fuss out of it, so, as a result, his only companions were Erwin and his friend, guardsman Mike.

The three of them turned the corner and appeared on a small, narrow street. There were only five houses there, and Levi scanned them carefully, trying to decide which house they should visit. As he continued to think, he noticed that Mike and Erwin were strangely nervous. Mike even fidgeted with his sleeve. However, Levi ignored it, too tired to wonder about their weird behavior.

“This one,” Levi pointed to the house in the middle. “Let’s enter this house.”

Beside him, both Erwin and Mike loudly exhaled, although they were holding their breaths for too long. As he glanced at them, Levi saw that both men were smiling ever so slightly.

Levi shook his head, he could ask them about it later.

He came up to the chosen house and loudly knocked on the door.

“It’s his highness, Prince Levi,” Erwin shouted. “Please open your door.”

A young man appeared on the doorstep. He was tall and had light brown hair. Levi almost opened his mouth to apologize for disturbing him, obviously, four-eyes couldn’t live here. Even if there was some girl, who lived here, she was probably married to that man.

Levi didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he rose to his tiptoes and looked behind the man’s shoulder.

She was standing with her back facing him, but Levi recognized those brown messy locks instantly.

Heart was racing in his chest, as relief and happiness threatened to overwhelm Levi. He wanted to shout out to her, to grip her shoulders tightly, shaking her and asking why the fuck she made everything so complicated. He wanted to look at her face and get lost in her eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let go.

But still, he had to do everything properly.

So Levi bowed his head, trying to keep his composure. “Good sir,” he addressed the man in front of him. “I hate to disturb you, but do you live alone? Or are there any young women living at this house?”

The man was obviously a little confused, his eyes darting from Levi to Erwin and Mike behind him. His gaze stayed on Mike for a little longer, and when Levi glanced up, he saw that Mike was mouthing something to him.

So Mike knew four-eyes as well? Motherfucker, Levi thought annoyingly.

Thankfully, whatever Mike had told him seemed to work, as the man took a step back, allowing them to enter.

“My lady,” Levi said to four-eyes and bowed again, this time with a purpose of hiding a smirk on his face. “Would you be so kind and try those glasses on?” Erwin came closer, handing them to her.

“And why should I do it?” four-eyes asked, and Levi almost growled. If he had any doubts that it was really her, now they were gone. No one annoyed Levi like she did.

“Because I’m a Prince and I say so!” Levi exclaimed, glaring at her.

“Oh really?” four-eyes raised her brows, putting hands on her hips. “So just because you’re a Prince I should do everything you say? If that how it works in your world, your highness?”

Somewhere behind him, Erwin and Mike started laughing, but Levi paid no mind to them. He could get angry at them later.

“Just come here already and take those stupid glasses, so I can finally marry you!”

Four-eyes instantly deflated. Her hands fell limply at her sides and she stared at Levi with utter incomprehension.  

“Well, I think we’ll leave you alone for now,” someone awkwardly said. Levi didn’t know who it was, it sounded like Mike’s voice, but he wasn’t sure, he was too busy staring at four-eyes. “Hange, scream, if you need me!”

“Hange?” Levi whispered, taking a tentative, small step towards her. He wanted to take her by the hand, but he wasn’t sure if she wanted the same, so he remained in one place, standing not too far, and not too close to her. “That’s your name?”

Four-ey— no, Hange nodded timidly.

“That’s a stupid name,” Levi slightly smirked, trying to ease the uncomfortably tense atmosphere. “It fits you.”

For a moment, it seemed like Hange wasn’t going to rise up to his rouse. She continued to stare at Levi with wide, unbelieving eyes. But then she shook her head slightly, a mirthless laugh coming out of her throat.

“It is a stupid name,” she rasped, her voice husky. “It is also a commoner’s name.”

“I don’t care,” Levi protested fiercely.

“But you should!” Hange replied just as passionately. “Look at my house, look at my clothes and my face! I’m not rich or pretty, o— or any of those things you Princes need! I’m messy and weird and I know nothing of the court’s etiquette or som—”

“Hange,” Levi took another step forward, until they stood so close their chests touched. He stared deeply into her eyes. “I don’t care.”

She blinked a few times, surprised at their sudden proximity. Levi watched her every move, searching for any sign of her discomfort. If Hange was disturbed by his actions, he was ready to let her go, to walk out of her house and leave her alone. For now, though, she didn’t seem repulsed by him. It filled Levi with hope.

“I don’t care if you’re not pretty like all those girls, or that you have no money or castles,” Levi began, his voice steady and calm despite his wildly beating heart. “I only care about you. Since that night… at the ball… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I constantly wondered what you were doing or who you were doing it with. I tried to imagine your room or what books you like to read or what you eat for breakfast. I want to know more about you, Hange. I know I’ve said that I want to marry you,” Levi ran a hand through his hair, suddenly flustered. “But I didn’t mean that I want to do it right now. We can spend some time together… hang out and get to know each other.”

“That sounds nice,” a smile suddenly appeared on Hange’s lips. Levi didn’t even realize how much he missed it. “I would like to do that, but… let’s take it slow, alright?”

“Of course,” Levi nodded. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. If there is something that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me immediately.”

Hange’s smile slowly turned into a smirk. “You know,” she drew out. “I was really wrong about you. You’re not nearly as arrogant as I first thought.”

Levi gave her an unimpressed look. “Unfortunately, you’re just as annoying as I expected. But… I like that.”

“And you’re very rude,” Hange winked at him, grinning from ear to ear. “But lucky for you, I like that too.”

“C’mon,” Levi took her by the hand. “Let’s get out of here, or your friends will think that I’ve murdered you or something.”

“Mm,” Hange nodded. “I think Moblit’s been panicking all this time. And Mike is probably two seconds away from breaking down the door.”

“Erwin will stop him,” Levi said, having complete faith in his advisor.

Hange burst out laughing. ���You don’t know Erwin like I do. Believe me, if something’s happened to me, he’ll be the first one to run at you with a sword in hand. Well, technically,” she twirled her hair, smiling innocently. “Technically, Moblit will be the first one to do that. But fortunately for you, he doesn’t have a sword.”

“Tch,” Levi scowled. “I’m their Prince and they’re my subjects. Why are they more loyal to you?”

“Because you’re a grumpy and rude monarch,” Hange giggled, ruffling his hair. “And I’m cool and funny!”

“Yeah, I got,” Levi rolled his eyes. “I’m a sore loser, and you are so very awesome. The gods have smiled down upon me, when they decided for us to meet.”

And despite his harsh tone, Levi actually meant it. And judging by Hange’s soft smile and the way she squeezed his hand tighter, she saw right through him.

[sincerelyasomebody]

All That Glitters || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: Jose will be used in the form of Sad Eyes' name, as far as I know his actual name hasn't been revealed in the show. I tried my best to correct any mistakes I could find. I am not a native Spanish speaker, translations will be at the bottom. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks! 

Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader ▪︎ OC x Reader (past relationship)

Summary: A family get-together turns into an emotional rollercoaster. 

Warnings: angsty, fluff, language, mentions of cheating, talks of death, unsupportive mother and stepfather

Word Count: 2419

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Nana Helen and Papa Victor were absolutely adored by their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Not only adored but highly respected.

Therefore introducing a significant other to them was a big deal. It was something only done if you saw yourself with that person in the long run. 

And (Y/N) saw a future with Jose. 

Sure, she had other relationships before he came along but they didn't reach this step. The furthest they ever got was her parents and siblings. So, when her relationship developed a connection she had never experienced, she knew it was only right to introduce him to the people who meant the world to her. 

From her spot in the kitchen, she looked into the living room and smiled as he sat with her nana on the couch. The old woman had pulled out the photo albums, pointing to each picture and telling the story behind it. Her papa in the armchair in the corner beside them.

Her nieces and nephews were spread across the floor in front of the t.v, immersed in the world that was Despicable Me. 

She could hear the laughter of her younger cousins upstairs. Not a doubt in her mind that they were doing Tik Tok videos. Her siblings were probably with them, she concluded, if the sound of a slap and a shout of her brother's name was anything to go by. 

The uncles and a few of her boy cousins were sitting in the backyard, sipping on beers and talking about Mike Tyson coming out of retirement. She was sure Jose would join them after talking with her grandparents. 

Which left her in the kitchen and dining room area with her mother, aunts and girl cousins. 

"You shouldn't have brought him." 

With a heavy sigh, she turned around and faced her mother, "not this again." She walked over to the sink to wash her hands before helping to chop up the vegetables for the salad. "He's my boyfriend."

Pauline looked at her daughter, "he's a gang member, (Y/N)."

She dumped the cut up vegetables into a salad bowl, "Ash, make yourself useful." She held out the bowl and large wooden fork and spoon. The girl in question stood up, with a huff pocketing her phone, and grabbed the outstretched items. 

When (Y/N) introduced Jose to her mother, Frank (she refused to call the man her mother married a month after the death of her father, dad), her brothers Samuel and Anthony, she didn't hide the fact he was a Santo. Although they lived a couple towns over, it wasn't hard to know the gang that ran (protected, she corrected) Freeridge. 

But, she didn't care. 

He was known as Sad Eyes, the feared right-hand man of the gang leader Spooky, in the streets. If there were issues he was sent to deal with them. He was also known as Jose, a momma's boy with a big heart and an appetite to match. He'd go to the ends of the Earth to make sure his family was taken care of. 

(Y/N) accepted both sides of him. 

But, most of all she loved both sides of him. 

Without another word, she walked into the living room and plopped herself next to her man. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

"Everything okay, mi alma?" 

She nodded, "yeah, don't worry about it." 

Helen beamed at the interaction, "oooh." She looked at her husband, "Vic look at our grandbaby." 

"I see her." He replied with a chuckle, "and she looks as happy as she was when she got that twenty dollars from the tooth fairy. Maybe even happier." 

(Y/N) buried her face into the crook of Jose's neck, causing a round of laughter from the three.

When the call for everybody to come to the dining room, (Y/N) and Jose got up off the couch. Jose helped Helen up, to which she patted his hand as a thank you. Victor waved him off when he tried to offer his hand, choosing to use his walking stick instead. They walked to where the food was, (Y/N) stayed behind to gather the little ones together.

"Lucas and Bryson," she called out to the eight year olds, they were the oldest of the bunch, "go upstairs and tell them it's time to eat." 

They nodded and sprinted to the staircase.

She picked up Melody, the three year old, who had fallen asleep on the ground, told the rest of the kids to get going and switched off the t.v. She followed them and handed Mel off to her dad, her cousin Micah. He thanked her and she walked over to Jose, taking his hand in hers. 

"Thank you all for coming." Helen looked at her family, all managing to squeeze into the dining room and kitchen, "Jose, thank you for being here." 

Jose smiled at her, "thank you for having me." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but grin at him, which got a few teasing words from the cousins. She laughed along with them, just happy that her grandma had accepted him. 

Victor spoke up, "yes, we're thankful for family," his eyes scanned over to Jose, "we're also thankful to have found someone who loves our (Y/N) very much. So, Jose, thank you… you don't know how much it truly means to see her happy." 

He responded with a nod, (Y/N) grinning wider if that was even possible. She was extremely elated, she just received the stamp of approval from her favourite people. 

"Te amo," she whispered. 

He bent down and pecked her lips, "Te amo." 

Victor led the family in prayer, before they dished out their meals. 

Loud chatter between the cousins occurred as they tried to decide what to grab, parents telling their children to get some salad and the grandparents making sure there was enough food for everyone. 

Before (Y/N) could grab herself and Jose a plate, the doorbell rang. 

Pauline rushed towards the front door. (Y/N), just like everybody else, was confused as the entire family had already been accounted for. That didn't stop them from wanting to see who it was though. 

When Pauline stepped back into the view of everyone with her ex boyfriend, Colby, by her side (Y/N) thought she might lose it. 

Thankfully, before she could say anything Samuel spoke up.

"What the fuck?" 

Pauline glared in his direction, "watch your mouth." 

Helen and Victor were confused with his behaviour, because Samuel knew better than to cuss in their home. 

"Samuel, listen to your mother." Helen reprimanded, "you know I don't like cussing." 

"Sorry, nana." He apologised, "but it's fucked up that mum would bring (Y/N)'s ex boyfriend to a family get-together while she's here with her current boyfriend." 

Anthony piped up, "straight up, disrespectful." 

Everyone looked back and forth between (Y/N) and the newcomer. 

(Y/N) glanced over at Jose, noticing his clenched jaw, she rubbed her thumb over his hand and stood on her toes to peck his cheek. 

He knew Pauline didn't like him, but he didn't think she'd pull something like this. Unfortunately for her, he and (Y/N) were solid. 

Colby held his hands up, "I didn't come here to cause any drama." His eyes focused on (Y/N), "I just want to talk to (Y/N)." 

She took a deep breath, "nana and papa, I'm sorry." She looked back at Colby, "fuck no," looking over at her mum, "fuck you," and then at Frank, "and fuck you, too 'cause I know you had something to do with it." tugging on Jose's hand, she moved through the kitchen, "we're leaving."

As they passed through the kitchen, living room and through the front door, (Y/N) ranting along the way.

"What the fuck was she thinking? That Colby would show up and I'd dump you to be with him," she threw her hands in the air, "no fucking way! As soon as I caught him cheating, it was a wrap."

They looked back over at the house, the (L/N) family plus one scrambling out of the door. They stayed on the porch except for Pauline, Frank, Colby, Helen and Victor who marched towards them. They both straightened up, waiting for what was to come. 

"(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!" screeched Pauline, "what's wrong with you." 

"Me? What's wrong with you? Why would you bring Colby here? What the fuck was going through your head to make you think that this was a good idea?" 

"He's better than -" 

She shook her head, "He's a fucking piece of shit "

"(Y/N), your mum was just -" 

"Shut up, Frank." She hissed, "nobody asked for your input." 

"Don't talk to him like that." 

"I can talk to him however the fuck I want." 

Pauline growled, "this is ridiculous," she turned to her parents, "he's in a gang! A c-criminal! You do know that right?" 

"Wow, (Y/N)... really?" Colby smirked.

(Y/N) glared at him, "why the fuck are you still here? Seriously, fuck off." 

"I want to -" 

"Yeah, I know what you want but you aren't getting anything from me." She cut him off, "so go away."

When he stepped towards her, Jose immediately jumped in front of her, blocking him from getting closer, "back up." 

Colby laughed, "what? You wanna fight?"

"Back up," he repeated, "last warning." 

Helen and Victor carefully watched the exchange, they already approved of Jose, even before Pauline exclaimed he was in a gang - they already knew. He told them himself and while it did make them uncomfortable, their opinion about him didn't change. If anything, they respected him for coming clean in the first place.

Out of all the grandchildren, (Y/N) spent the most time with them. 

They watched her grow from a curious child to a reserved teenager. She isolated herself when her father died and it worried them to no end. But they allowed her to grieve in whatever way she wanted. And as she grew into the woman she was today, their worries about her finding somebody worthy of her attention had vanished upon meeting Jose.

They couldn't have wished for a better person for their grandbaby to be with.

"Okay, boys that's enough." Victor spoke up, "Colton -"

"Colby." 

" - whatever your name is, move away from my granddaughter or else I'll have to deal with you," he exclaimed. 

Colby moved back to stand with Pauline and Frank, whereas Jose stood beside (Y/N). 

"(Y/N) and Jose, please come back inside." Helen gestured towards the house, "please?"

"It's fine, nana." (Y/N) replied. "We're just gonna head off, I… I'm, uh… I'm sorry for causing -"

She shook her head, "sweetpea, don't apologise." Her eyes wandered over to her daughter, "it's your mother who should be apologising." 

"Did you not hear me when I said she's with a criminal?" exclaimed Pauline. 

"As long as my grandbaby is happy, I'm happy." Helen replied, "well, I better get you both a to-go plate." 

Before (Y/N) could protest, she was walking away with Victor by her side. She laughed when her cousins scrambled over each other to move out of the way. Her laughter was cut short by Frank.

"Are you sure you want to be with Jose? Like, really sure? Have you met his family? Do you see yourself -" 

"Please, shut up." (Y/N) responded, "just shut up." 

"I'm not going to repeat myself, (Y/N)." Pauline threatened. 

She shrugged her shoulders, "then don't." Her eyes narrowed, "I'm sick of your bullshit. Get it through your head and accept that Jose and I are together." 

"Why? When I know you can do better."

(Y/N) scoffed, "really?"

"Yes! I'm your mother which -"

"Which means shit, absolute shit." She responded, "I'm done with you, Pauline. I-I can't keep going back and forth with you."

"What does that mean?" 

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough." 

"Okay, when have I ever -" 

"When I twisted my ankle in soccer, you told me it was because I wasn't made for it. When I joined the writing club in high school, you told me it was stupid. When I chose to become an elementary school teacher, you told me that I should've become a doctor or a nurse instead." She listed, her jaw clenched, "there's other shit you've done, but I'm too upset to think about them. The main theme of it all is this - nothing I've ever done and probably will do is good enough, in your eyes." 

During this time the grandparents had resurfaced onto the scene. Jose accepted the tupperware with thanks and placed it in the car. He stepped aside and watched the scene unfold. He knew (Y/N)'s relationship with her mother was rocky, so he knew that she needed to get some things off her chest.

Pauline scoffed, "quit being dramatic, (Y/N)." 

She took a deep breath, tears blurring her vision which she rubbed away. "See, that right there is another issue in itself. Whenever I express my feelings, you blow them off! A-and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of your bullshit, it ends now!" 

"Stop the theatrics." 

"I don't want anything to do with you," she affirmed.

(Y/N) walked around her to reach her grandparents but was stopped by Colby, "move of my way." 

"Please, just hear -" 

"My girl says move, you move." Jose asserted, eyes blazing. 

Colby, finally admitting defeat, moved aside.

She kissed both of their cheeks and pulled them into a hug, "thank you for accepting Jose, it means a lot."

"He loves our grandbaby." Helen exclaimed, "a done deal," 

Victor held out his hand to Jose, "you take care of her." 

"With my life," Jose replied, giving him a firm shake.

With a promise to come back and visit, the pair walked back over to the car. Jose held her door open, (Y/N) pecked his cheek and got in. When he reached the drivers' side they buckled up.

But of course, Pauline couldn't let them leave without saying something.

"You're choosing him over this family?" 

"I'm choosing to be happy," (Y/N) corrected, leaning her head out the window, "I love you crazies, I'll keep in touch." 

And with the shouts of goodbyes from her family, Jose pulled onto the open road. 

With a bright smile, Jose's hand in hers and the low hum of the radio, (Y/N) felt at peace.

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Spanish Translation(s):

Mi alma - my soul

Te amo - I love you

[moonlightrichie]

Reddie + in the snow + confessing feelings??

Thanks for the prompt lovely ♡

READ ON AO3

(Send me a kissing prompt (place + reason) from THIS LIST)

Richie was in the battle zone.

Balls of snow came hurdling at him from his right in a wicked speed, all of them missing him as he ran. His fingers were freezing, melted snow having soaked through his thin gloves. They weren’t exactly made for making snowballs.

He couldn’t think about that now, though, all his focus instead on just making it to safety. Beverly and Stan were yelling encouragingly at him, both gesturing from behind the wall for him to get over there.

From somewhere in the distance he could hear Eddie shriek: “he’s getting away!” and he pushed on, trying to quicken his pace. It was heavy carrying himself through the thick layer of snow, his boots sinking deep into it with every step.

“I’m out of ammo!” Ben yelled.

And then. Mike’s screaming voice (“Hit him, Bill!”) was the last thing Richie heard before falling to the ground from the impact of Bill’s snowball hitting him in the face. Perfectly aimed, right into his cheek, and he was down, glasses flying off of his face.

“Noooooo!” It was Beverly and Stan. Chaos all around him; he couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything other than cold snow seeping down his neck and into his shirt. Everything was blurry and he couldn’t tell up from right anymore.

“Alright, time out”, a muffled voice said from somewhere far away. Richie couldn’t keep track of what was happening around him.

And then: an angel. Sun like a halo and the smiling face of Eddie hovering over him as he put Richie’s glasses back on his face. He was laughing, but the look in his eyes showed that he was at least a little bit concerned. “You okay?”

Richie blinked, opening his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He felt warmth spread to his cheeks at how close Eddie’s face was to his own, and for a second he forgot he was cold. Snow was pushing inside of all open entrances of his clothes. Into his boots, his sleeves and underneath his jacket, it was everywhere. At least he could see now.

And what he saw was Eddie’s freckled face, skin tanned even though it was winter and lips quirked in a soft smile. Eddie’s lips never got chapped like Richie’s did during the winter because of all the amount of chapstick he used to keep them moisturized. Richie felt a sudden urge to push up on his elbows and kiss him.

He didn’t do that though.

Instead he shook himself out of the trance, grinning widely at Eddie.

“I am now that you’re here”, he reached up to pinch Eddie’s cheek. “My spaghetti in shining armor.”

Eddie’s smile was immediately replaced by a pouty frown (which didn’t help Richie’s want to kiss him), annoyance flashing in his eyes.

He pushed Richie’s hand away from his face. “Don’t call me that.” And then he was off of Richie, trudging back to his team. “You’ve got 10 seconds to take shelter before we’re starting again!”

Richie was back on his feet in an instant, stumbling to where Beverly and Stan were hiding from the other team.

“You did great out there, Richie”, Stan patted him on the back. “Still think it’s unfear they’re four and we’re three.”

“Bullshit, it’s unfear to them cause you got me on your team”, Beverly winked at them.

She was right; she had the best aim out of all seven of them.

“I think we can do it”, Richie whispered, their heads close together. “Our last maneuver: we’ve got lots of ammo. They’re almost empty after throwing all of theirs at me- you’re welcome for my sacrifice by the way, I’m fucking soaked- anyways, I say all three of us jump out and attack at the same time.”

Beverly and Stan looked at each other before meeting Richie’s gaze with determination. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay, on three”, they all got into position. “One, two…”

Beverly was grinning.

“Three!”

And then they were running out and screaming, annihilating the other team in seconds, the four of them standing no chance against the fury of Team Glorious Cockrats.

Richie was walking with Eddie home after the fight, their hands brushing and sending sparks up Richie’s arm.

“I’m so fucking cold”, Eddie muttered, still sour after losing.

“It was fun, though!” Richie poked him in the side with his elbow.

“Yeah”, Eddie smiled slightly. “It was.”

Silence settled over them.

“Hold on.” Eddie stopped, reaching to pull of his scarf. “Hold this.”

As Richie’s hands were digging into the softness of Eddie’s scarf, Eddie opened his jacket to shake it. Remnants of snow fell out from the inside. “Fucking hell.”

Then his jacket was closed again and he was reaching for his scarf.

“Here, let me”, Richie mumbled, stretching the scarf out and putting it around Eddie’s bare neck. It was thick and long enough to absolutely drown him in it, head poking out from the cocoon cutely.

God, Richie was so absolutely head over heels in love with him.

He had been since he was a 12-year-old nerd with ugly glasses and crooked teeth. Even though he’d changed on the outside in the last six years, growing up into a full six foot two with new glasses and fixed teeth, his feelings for Eddie had stayed the same on the inside.

Not that he’d ever let Eddie know that.

But looking at Eddie now, with his brown eyes glittering and nose red from the cold, Richie couldn’t help himself. Eddie looked so damn cute and cuddly in his layered winter-attire, sniffling from between Richie’s arms, which were working on putting his scarf back on. His nose looked so soft and damn cold and Richie leaned forward before he knew what he was doing. He pushed his nose to Eddie’s, rubbing back and forth to warm it up with his own.

Closing his eyes, he felt the soft skin of Eddie against his, enjoying their close proximity. With a happy sigh, he smiled to himself.

It was Eddie’s breath hitching that pulled him out of it, and Richie pulled away in shock when he realized what he was doing.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape.

“I, uhm…” Richie didn’t know what to say as he released his hold on Eddie’s scarf finally.

“Did”, Eddie stopped. “Did you just give me an Eskimo kiss?” His voice was breathless and confused, sounding slightly dazed.

“No?” Richie laughed nervously.

“Yes, you did.” Eddie furrowed his brows.

“Well, then, if you knew that, then why’d you ask?” Richie’s heart was beating wildly inside his chest. Why the hell had he done that?

“Rich…”

“Nope.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know”, Richie was panicking, hands starting to shake. He needed to get away.

“Richie.”

“Oh, look at the time”, he looked down at his watch-less wrist. “Time to get home.” He started jogging backwards, almost tripping over his feet.

“Richie, don’t you dare walk away from me.” The strict tone in Eddie’s voice made Richie stop in his tracks.

With a sigh he put his hands in his pocket, shrugging in defeat. “What?”

“Just”, Eddie rubbed his hands together, a nervous tick he had. “Just come ‘ere.” His voice was much less sharp now, softer instead, slightly wobbly.

With timid steps, Richie walked back over, eyes refusing to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“Closer.”

He sighed, taking the tiniest of steps toward Eddie.

Then Eddie pushed up on his toes, getting all up in Richie’s personal space to push their noses together just like Richie had a minute earlier. His fingers were digging into Richie’s forearm to keep him from pulling away.

“What are you doing?” Richie whispered shakily.

“Giving you an Eskimo kiss”, Eddie whispered back before plummeting back down on his heels with a shy smile.

“You…” Richie didn’t know how to continue.

Without replying, Eddie only shrugged, eyes so sparkly and beautiful and timid smile so captivating.

“I’m in love with you”, Richie blurted, instantly putting a hand over his dumb mouth as soon as the words left his lips.

But instead of looking surprised like Richie thought he would, Eddie laughed. His eyes were creasing, lips stretched out in the most wonderful of smiles, and he looked the happiest he had ever looked. “Idiot, I’m in love with you too.”

Richie’s heart was still beating quickly, but suddenly for a different reason. “What?”

“I have been for years.”

Richie couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“What?” he repeated dumbly. How was Eddie acting so casual about this?

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie reached up a hand to brush the back of it on Richie’s cheek. “I’m in love with you.”

“You are?”

There was a small shake to Eddie’s smile, pulling his arm away to rub his hands together again, and oh. Eddie was freaking out too. If Richie was to reach out and put a hand over Eddie’s heart, he’d probably be hearing it beat just as fast as Richie’s.

“Yeah”, Eddie whispered.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah”, Eddie exhaled. “Holy shit.”

And then they were laughing, breathless and full of relief. Happiness burst into Richie’s heart and coursed through his veins. He couldn’t stop laughing. Wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist, he lifted him up and spun them around.

“We’re in love!” he screamed, voice sounding hysterical with the happiness pouring out of him.

Eddie was giggling, looking down at Richie with so much love that Richie felt dizzy. Immediately he stopped his spinning, suddenly way out of balance.

Hands were in his hair, fingers tangling in the curls. Finally putting Eddie back down to the ground but keeping his arms around his waist, he leaned down to rub their noses together.

“I love you”, he whispered. Now that he could finally say it out loud, it seemed he’d never be able to stop. “I really fucking love you.”

He pulled away to look at Eddie’s blushing face, brown eyes peering up at him with wonder.

“I love you too.” And then he was looking down at Richie’s lips briefly before meeting Richie’s gaze again. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh, fuck yes.” Richie leaned down, closing the distance.

Eddie’s lips were as soft as Richie had imagined, slotting together with Richie’s perfectly. Placing his hands on both sides of Eddie’s face, he sighed into the kiss happily, feeling Eddie’s forehead push against his.

His lips were tingling, tongue poking out to lick at Eddie’s bottom lip, the tip barely grazing the softness. With a content hum, Eddie opened his mouth to meet Richie’s tongue with his own. Richie bit down softly on Eddie’s lip, sucking it into his mouth barely before releasing it again. He could feel Eddie smiling, breathy laughs muffled.

Richie’s neck started to hurt from bending his head and without thinking it through, he started to lie down in the snow, pulling Eddie on top of him. It didn’t matter that his back was freezing when Eddie’s lips were so warm and lovely.

They kissed for a long time, neither wanting to break away from the other, but at some point it was impossible to ignore how cold he was. His entire back was soaked from the snow.

With a last wet peck, he pushed gently on Eddie’s cheek to make him stop. Eddie’s lips were glistening with Richie’s spit, plump and redder than before. He was beautiful.

“I kinda need to get up.”

“Holy shit!” Eddie scrambled to his feet, reaching out his hands to pull Richie up from the ground. “Sorry.”

“I’m not complaining”, Richie winked, “and to imagine we could have been doing that for years already.” His hands were back on Eddie’s hips, thumb pushed up underneath Eddie’s jacket to touch bare skin.

“We’re so dumb.” Eddie was shaking his head slightly.

“Do you wanna come over to my place?” Richie’s thumb started stroking at Eddie’s hip. “Make up for lost time?”

Already nodding, Eddie laced their fingers together and started dragging Richie after him.

The sound of Richie laughing echoed down the snow-filled street.

Tag list: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool, @violetreddie, @rainbow-reddie, @tinyarmedtrex, @thundercatseddie, @deadlighten, @captainbartholomew, @queen-sock, @appojoos, @xandertheundead, @lifesucksheres20bucks

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[kxhlzn]

[iii.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, ANGST, fluff, slight crack.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader, unrequited!bev/reader, eventual benverly, eventual reddie (possibly unrequited.)

➳ wordcount: 5.9k

➳ warning(s): profanity, sexual comments, ANGST, jokes about 80s AIDS, hurt feelings, fireworks (don't try this at home, kids!)

➳ song rec: flowers in your hair by the lumineers.

➳ author's note(s): sorry i made richie cry, i hate myself too lmfao. also i love stan. that's all. that's the post. give me some recs on what you'd like to see happen to them in the future! :)

July, 1989.

the rain is constant; pattering, almost as if it expects you to open your window and let it sneak into your bedsheets, like a sneaky, horny, little teenager. except, the only teenager creeping through your window tonight is mischevious richie tozier, head full of grand ideas and schemes.

his hair is sopping when he slams on the glass, and you nearly lose ten years of your life at the scare. most of the terror racing through you isn't because you're shocked by his presence, but rather you didn't really want him to see your arms full of letters and graham crackers. he stares at you a moment, his glasses dripping with water, as a single crumb trickles onto the floor from the corner of your mouth. you consider, for a moment, that he didn't see it, but from the small smirk that appears on his lips, you know you were caught. he's crouched on the roof beside your window, tapping his knee patiently.

you don't rush to make a move, either, as you both have a staredown; richie is uncharacteristically patient, you notice, and it makes you loosen your grip on the items momentarily. but then, richie slips, and you throw them all on the bed and make a break for the window. once you've tossed it open, richie is already steady, his hands splayed out at hip height. he's preparing himself in case he slips again.

"what do you want, trashmouth?" you quip, propping the window open. you glance at the surrounding area behind him, and the sky is a deep grey. the trees are heavy with water, puddles scattered across the ground. what on earth could he need at this time?

"so, i got this cool idea," he says, gripping the sill as he slides through the crack of your window. now, he's got water dripping all over the floor, and you scowl at him as he shakes his head like a dog, flinging droplets across your bedroom. "what if we buy fireworks?"

you don't miss a beat. "what?"

"like, you know, fireworks. for fourth of july? i might know a guy."

"seriously? that'd be so cool!" you say, picturing lighting off rockets into the sky, at the quarry. richie nods in excitement, collapsing on the floor beside your bed, leaning his head against your sheets. one knee is propped up, and his arm slings comfortably on it. the water drips onto his (for once) solid color grey t-shirt and plaided black pajama pants.

"right?" richie agrees, "you can thank me later. i already told 'im to buy them. 'said he'll get back to me soon. what are those?"

you blink at him a moment, and draw your attention to where he is focused. he's eyeing the pile of letters on your bed behind him, and he starts to get grabby as he digs through them.

you jolt forward, swatting at his hands. "they're, uh... letters? to? someone?"

"your pops?"

"what? no. well, actually, most of 'em, yeah."

"he ever respond to the ones you sent last year?" richie asks softly, peering at you when you take a hesitant seat on your bed, near richie's mop of hair.

"nope," you shrug, "but it's worth a try to send some more, ya know?"

"nah. you're trying too hard, babyface. you ever think that maybe it's time to toss the towel in?" richie's hand lands on your knee, but you jerk away from him.

"toss the towel in? what the fuck, richie?" you stand, quickly, and take a few cautious steps away from him.

"no, urgh, listen. i just hate seeing you hurt yourself like this—" he stands, too, stretching his long legs in a couple strides toward you.

"what's so fucking wrong with me writing a letter to my dad?"

"it's stupid! i just think—"

"you're just pissed 'cause yours sits a room away from you, and he talks to you less than mine!" you bite, and you immediately regret it, a sour flavor sitting on your tongue.

"fuck you!" richie barks, pointing an accusatory finger at you. his voice cracks in the process. "at least my dad bothered to stay! i wasn't so fucking bitchy that he disappeared into the night, not able to deal with having me for a kid!"

you want to snap back, but you're afraid your voice will betray you, so you merely open and close your mouth like a fish. richie's shoulders are heaving, eyes blown wide enough to rival the size of his actual face, with the glasses magnifying them so much. his fists are clenching and unclenching, consistently while you stand in tense silence.

"you're right," you whisper, mostly to yourself, and you cradle your arms against your chest. you lean up against your wall and slide down until your arms hug your knees. richie gapes, mutters out a few incoherent words, and then collapses in front of you, his hands on your arms.

"no, fuck, no, i shouldn't have said that. i didn't mean it. we're both tired, and hungry, and frustrated. that was such an asshole thing for me to say," he sputters out, and he pulls your head into the crook of his neck while he coos softly.

"it's okay, i didn't mean what i said, either. i think, i just, i know you were right about the tossing in the towel thing, but i.. i just don't think i'm ready to, you know?" you mumble into his shoulder, and he nods.

"that's okay, it was just a suggestion, babyface. you want to send him a letter? fuck it, let's do it."

"okay."

you spend the next ten minutes sealing the letters up, stamping them, and tossing them into your desk drawer for later. you sit comfortably in your chair, finishing up writing the address on the last one, when richie hums to himself.

"what?" you ask, spinning around to face him. he holds a letter up from his seat on your bed, sitting crisscrossed. his magnified eyes are glued to the words.

"nothing, you just missed one. except, it's not for your pops..."

"what do you mean? i didn't write one for anyone e—..." and it dawns on you. "richie, can i have that letter, please?"

"uh, yeah, nope... 'dear beverly marsh—'"

"richie, god, please!" you fling yourself at him, and he screams, throwing his hand up so you can't reach it while you climb over him. there are a few grunts as you dig various body parts into his flesh, grabbing for the paper, but he's not having it.

"why the hell are you— ouch! —writing a letter to bev?" richie questions, shoving at you a bit to get a good look at the piece of lined paper. "is it a looove letter?"

your silence forces you both to stop your movements, and the pink on your cheeks makes richie blink a few times.

"wait..." he begins, "does that.. do you.. do you like beverly?"

"what does that even mean? 'like'? of course i like her, she's one of my best friends! why wouldn't i? she's kind, and pretty, and one of the best people i know."

"yeah, okay, but do you want to stick your hand down her pants?"

"richard tozier!"

"well, you know what i mean."

"unfortunately, yeah, i do. but... that's not.. i can't, you know, like her like that. she's a girl," you squirm, scooting over to the headboard of the bed. richie leans up next to you, his shoulder bumping yours.

"so she's a girl. if she were a dude, would you do it?" richie presses.

"do what?"

"stick your hand—"

"beep, beep, richie!"

"what i'm saying is, if she were a guy, would you like her?"

"uh, i don't know, i guess," you admit, your hands in your lap. you bite your lip.

"then what's it fucking matter?" he asks, brows curved inward, "just admit it."

you blink at him, kind of understanding where he's coming from. you suppose you never could accept how you felt because it's the 80s, and you're in derry, so same-sex relations remain strictly platonic. you wonder if others have felt, or feel, the same way you do. maybe it's not so bad. maybe you can say it out loud, to someone.

"i have a crush on beverly marsh."

it feels empowering. like you could stand on top of your roof and scream it to the entire world, make everyone know that you, a small-town girl in maine, likes another girl. it feels empowering, but also incriminating— like you have something to hide, like you should be guilty for feeling this way.

guilty of what? loving another human being?

"well, shockingly, that's not the most lesbian thing you've ever said to me," richie quips.

"beep, beep, richie."

"anyway," he clicks his tongue, desperate to change the subject, "so the fireworks. what's your game plan?"

"right. well, we'll probably have to ask bill to tell eddie's mom that they're studying. you know how she gets when me or bev call— rant about how he can't hang with us 'cause we'll force him into an orgy 'n shit," you laugh dryly.

"wouldn't mind an orgy with her," richie whistles lowly.

"her, and who else? stan's mom? she's too high-strung for that."

"with my charms? pft, please," he replies, signaling down his body.

you roll your eyes. "oh, for sure, she'll be on her knees in no time."

"nah, she'd break a hip."

you laugh. "okay, focus— so you got the fireworks, bill's got eddie's mom—" ("he'd better share!") and everyone else should be able to make it. bev and ben can sneak out, and mike is pretty much free to go wherever. i can convince stan's mom that we're spending the night at bill's, with supervision. she likes me, but i can't be sure she won't think i'm trying to fuck the jew out of him."

"he wouldn't mind."

"seriously, richie, learn when to shut the fuck up," you scold, and he laughs, "anyways— do ya think mike could scrounge up a picnic again, or should i go over to bill's to make one? i think mike would want to do it..."

"yeah," richie yawns, and he leans on your shoulder. you sigh softly, sweep his hair away from his face, and slip his glasses off, onto the bedstand. "should prolly head home."

"no, it's pouring out. you've stayed here before," you tell him, pushing him off of you so you can turn the light out. by the time you've turned yourself around, he's hogging all of the blankets and you frown. rolling your eyes, you mutter something along the lines of "didn't get to eat my graham crackers", and you stash them under your desk.

crawling beside richie, you kick him with your leg as a sign to scoot his ass over, or else. he doesn't listen at first, but another heel in his side, and he's doing as he's told. (richie won't admit it, but he likes being the little spoon); you wrap your arms around his torso and poke his back with your nose as you prepare yourself for sleep.

after a few minutes, richie turns over slightly, glancing at your face. when he is convinced you've fallen asleep, he sighs softly and bites his lip— there are so many things he wishes he could tell you. so many secrets. after hearing you admit you like bev, he feels safer; like someone can relate to him, like he's not alone. it would be the first time he ever admitted it, even to himself.

richie doesn't know you're even listening, but having you next to him makes it easier to say out loud. "okay, so uh, listen... i think.. i think i'm like you, okay? i think i like..."

he's quiet for a moment, but now you're focused; you hadn't been asleep yet, but this is odd of him. you sigh, and snuggle up against him. "eddie. it's okay."

his breath hitches, and he chokes out a "yeah". you think he's fallen asleep after, but you hear small sniffling, and you can't help but tear up too. your grip on his chest tightens, a sign that you hear him and understand. he flips his body around, and suddenly, rather aggressively, pulls you against him, his face in the crook of your neck. his small tears melt into sobs, and yours soon follow suit.

"it's okay, it's okay," you coo, combing your fingers through his hair. he sounds so hurt, so painfully heartbroken. but, so do you.

"is there something wrong with me?" richie cries, the droplets creating a pool in the skin of your neck, "with us?"

"i don't know," you reply, your shoulders shaking, "oh, god, i don't know."

how badly you wish you did; if not to ease your own pain, but most especially his. richie tozier did not deserve to be crying in your arms in the dark, because he fell in love with his best friend. he deserved a much better love story than that.

—

over cereal the next morning, you and richie don't talk much. you're both reeling from the many emotions that were expressed last night, and you're afraid if one of you speaks, it will spoil everything.

your stepfather and your mother are speaking in the other room, and you hear the pattering of footsteps — loud ones, at that, a sure one it's your stepfather — as he walks into the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee. he looks as dead as the two of you.

"hey, kiddo, i need you to take the trash out when you're done," he says, glancing at you. it takes him a moment to register that richie is sitting across from you. he gets an eyeful of him, and shrugs nonchalantly, "hey, rich."

"yo," richie replies, stuffing another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. the two stare at each other briefly, before your stepfather becomes bored and pads off into the other room to inform your mother of richie's presence, as she wasn't aware. you hear her nearly shriek, worried that the house isn't clean enough for guests.

"it's fine, mom, it's just richie," you raise your voice so she can hear you, "he literally doesn't care. like, at all."

she says something back, but you don't catch it, as you stand from the table and put your bowl in the sink. richie follows suit.

"so, um... i'll call bill, you handle the, you know, and then i can head over to stan's to let him know the plan. you got everyone else?" you quip, and richie smirks at you.

"you need to take the trash out, kiddo. but, yeah, i got everyone else."

"okaay," you reply, groaning.

richie leaves a few minutes after, through your window, for dramatic effect. you tell your parents he left through the second living room, a sliding door to the backyard in it. they accept it.

calling bill is easy; he always answers, (as he is always home and his parents don't care much for the phone), and rather quickly, too. it's easy to convince him, as well, as he's kind of excitable. he agrees to free eddie.

you call stanley, next. his mother picks up, and you curse to yourself. she's a hard nut to crack.

"hi, mrs. uris!" you tell her it's you, and you swear her tone becomes a bit sharper, but she stays polite. as is the way of jews.

"hello there, sweetheart."

"is stanley home?"

"yes, he is," she replies, you smile. he's always home, too, if he's not birdwatching.

"... could i speak to him?"

"oh! yes," she says, and she barks his name quietly, a sign that he was probably walking past her when you asked.

you tap your foot as there is brief movement on the other end, and stanley breathes into the phone just a millisecond before he speaks.

"hello," he says softly.

"hi, stanny! you free today? great!" you chirp cheerily, smiling against the telephone.

"o-oh, uh, yeah—"

"i thought we already established that."

"oh. um, yeah, i guess.. we have," he sounds dejected.

"kay. i'm coming over."

"what? wait, okay—"

you hang up, and hop slightly as you turn yourself around to grab your things. once you've gotten them, you head out to the place stanley calls home, a small house right outside of the synagogue.

you knock on the screen door at the back of the house and bounce on your heels as you await stanley. the locks on the door rattle briefly, and he's there, pushing open the door to let you in. you thank him and slip off your shoes in the entrance.

"so, you wanna hear about what we're doing tonight?" you say happily, poking his shoulder with a giant grin on your lips.

he swallows. "okay..."

you capture a handful of his collar, and pull him closer to you; he turns beet red. "we're gonna light off fireworks! but i gotta tell your mom we're staying at bill's."

"what? are you guys insane? that's dangerous!" stanley whisper shouts. he looks at you in complete and utter bewilderment.

"i know!" you cheer, "it'll be a blast!"

"no, i'm not doing that!"

"pleaaaase?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes, "it won't be fun without you."

he rolls his own. "no! that's ridiculous!" stanley crosses his arms, glances at your sweet face, and huffs dramatically. "ugh! fine! only because i don't want any of you doing something stupid. mostly you, because you're accident-prone."

"you know me too well, uris," you whisper sappily, and give him a strong hug. he refrains from doing it back for a second but sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders.

"stanley!" mrs. uris calls out sharply, and she shakes her head stiffly at him. you immediately take a few cautious steps away from him. "what on earth are you doing?"

"i, uh, was just hugging her because..." he trails off slowly.

"my grandma died," you spit out.

"oh! goodness, when?" mrs. uris asks, putting down her basket of laundry.

"um—" you think of a random time, and say, "last night."

unfortunately, stanley says "this morning" simultaneously.

you glance at each other.

"last night," stanley says, "i forgot, and thought it was this morning."

"oh," mrs. uris mutters, "goodness, child, you almost had me thinking you just hug that girl for the sake of it."

"yeah, nope, i would never," he agrees, "she has like, um, ...cooties."

when the high-strung woman finally skitters away, you and stan release a breath.

you're the first to speak. "cooties, stanley? really? that was your genius idea?"

he throws his hands up in defense. "i'm sorry! it was the only thing i could think of. i couldn't say AIDS!"

"i think AIDS would have been more redeemable."

"hardly!" he exasperates, "'cause then she'd think you're a homosexual man with a sex addiction under that skirt and scrunchie!"

you break out into a fit of laughs and shove stanley's shoulder. he shoves you back, and then you're both laughing.

"what? so how am i supposed to convince her to let you come with me to bill's when she thinks my grandma just died and i have cooties?" you inquire as you both step into the main section of the house and prepare to enter the living room.

"with slow coaxing and distance."

—

somehow, all of the losers are able to come— with slow coaxing and distance.

a symphony of crickets echoes down the dirt path, matched with the small pattering of eight pairs of feet. the bugs' song drowns out eddie and richie's bickering at the front of the group, but soon, stanley's soft voice joins in. the sun has already dipped low past the horizon, coating the sky in a hazy blue-grey, but the large trees block out the color significantly. the greenery tickles at your ankles, sly weeds brushing up against you.

a few feet in front of you, stan's pearly whites sneakers kick up rocks, a thin powdery layer of dust residue sliding around the heels, and coating the sides. his laces are neatly tied, and he has taken extra care to tuck the ends away to avoid them from collecting dirt; a signature, and neurotic, move on his part. his socks are a snowy white, and nearly match the pale tone of his calf. almost as if he might turn suddenly and catch your prying eyes, you scrape them to the heavens, admiring the stars that begin to trickle into the blanket above you. you are startled as eddie shrieks, and you manage to catch a glimpse of richie waving a handful of mud from the mucky dissolve at the end of the path, which must have been created during the rainfall yesterday.

"that's literally so disgusting! no! richie, if you fling that at me, i swear to fuck—!" his voice heightens to a womanly pitch, as he withers back from richie's sopping palm. in turn, he snickers devilishly as he circles around eddie like a vulture, with stanley's disapproving expression prominent on his boyish face.

"do you realize how sick i can get from that, huh? flesh-eating bacteria can get into my fucking cornea if a rock cuts my eye!" eddie nearly wails, throwing his hands up to protect his face. richie makes inhumane sounds following eddie's spring for the opening up ahead.

bill shakes his head contently, mirrored nearly identically by beverly and mike. you glance around at the meadow, and your heart skips a beat when you catch sight of a small glow up ahead, hovering just above a patch of flowers.

you squeal and push past the others to get a closet look at the fireflies now littering the meadow. you like to catch them, but not with malice— you capture them, and let them crawl on your hands until they decide to fly again. you giggle, spinning around, arms wide open, admiring the plethora of them.

they're everywhere, and you're in your own personal utopia. richie appears next to you, and he allows a firefly to land on his finger. "hey, watch this."

you eagerly grin as he moves his other hand over the bug, and then— he crushes it, wiping the glow across his skin. you gape at him, and then scowl. "richie, you're such a dick! it was innocent!"

"yeah, but my skin glows!" he replies, showing his hand to the others. none of them are amused, as they peer at your now heartbroken expression.

"that was harsh, rich," bill says, shaking his head in disappointment.

"i thought it was cool," richie mumbles, adjusting his glasses.

you roll your eyes at his response and continue to gaze off into the dark at the glowing bugs. you manage to capture one and cup your hands as you march over to stanley.

"hey, hey, check this out," you tell him, and he cranes his neck to watch as you open your hands, and show him the lightning bug. he slowly reaches out, and it crawls onto his forefinger. "isn't he so cute?!"

"yeah, definitely," stan agrees. the glow from the bug as he raises it up to face reflects off his nose, illuminating some stray freckles on the bridge. his eyes are lit up to match, and they never leave the insect, even when it ultimately makes its flight elsewhere.

"hey, lovebirds! come help me collect some sticks! or should i wait 'til y'all are done gushing over a bug?" richie barks, raising his arms, which are full of twigs, for what you assume is a fire.

"we're not—" stanley begins, but richie is already turned away and focused on something else.

you toss stan a bashful grin. "c'mon, birdboy. 'm sure mike brought marshmallows 'n stuff for s'mores."

"wait—" stanley says suddenly, voice risen uncharacteristically as he grips your arm. when he's positive he has your full attention, he drops contact with you, and stares at the grass below. "u-um, i got you something. i-it's not like anything big, you know, just like.. i saw it, and thought of you, or, er, us."

you blink at him. "you didn't have to—"

"—no! uh, i mean, no. i wanted to," stanley replies, fishing into the pocket of his khaki capris. there, he turns over two bracelets— they're woven, some sections tan and others colorful. there are two short brown strings at the latch on both of them.

"oh, my god, stan!" you say quietly, sticking your wrist out happily. you're grinning, and you can't explain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach or the heat rising to your cheeks. "they're so cute!"

"heh, thanks," he says, stepping forward to slip the bracelet over your wrist. it feels oddly intimate. "i, uh, it's not much, but.."

"no, no, i love it," you chirp, keeping a hold of his hand while you admire the charm. your grin reaches your eyes as they rise to meet his. the feelings expressed by simply the contact of your gazes sends rushes of excitement into your bloodstream. "i'll never take it off. not once."

then stanley suddenly stares into the sky, his lower lip tucked under his teeth. his brows are now curved in concentration. "d-don't look at me like that."

"like what?"

"like this is the best present you've ever gotten. l-like this is the happiest you've ever been."

"it is," you say softly, "this bracelet means the world to me. i've never felt so cared about, not ever."

you take the second bracelet from his hand that remains stretched out, like he's offering the jewelry. you slip it onto his wrist, and use it to pull him into a warm embrace, your arms wrapped around his neck. your right hand rests on the flesh of it, a few curls brushing against your skin.

"thank you, stanley."

your entire being buzzes incessantly as he accepts your gratitude, and you pull away. the air hitting your chest leaves you chilly, the empty kind; disconnecting with him now feels like abandoning the other half of your body, and leaving it frozen in place. you feel as though without him you will always be cold. the empty kind.

richie makes short work of the fire, relaying a grand story about his survival in the woods at six years old, and his incomparable courage that winter. the flames are low and small, but no one dares tell him to stoke them or toss in some leaves for an extra shove, as he seems so content with the low burn as it is. you all subtly cuddle up next to each other, but bill is the most obvious, physically— he scowls and wraps his arms around himself while eddie is vocally unhappy.

beverly leans into ben, subconsciously, and the sweet boy glows brighter than the fire, his skin illuminating a deep red, like an apple. beverly's scarlet hair, in turn, rivals the fire as it roars. her hair, and the way it is ruffled and sharp with each sliced strand, resembles the flames as they lick up towards the sky. the reflection of the campfire makes it burn ever the more vibrant, and it melts onto the skin of her freckled shoulders and nose.

you're cut from your stupor when richie nudges you, and he whispers, "you're staring", as though you weren't already aware. the others don't catch on, fortunately, as they all listen intently to the process of shelving meat, as expressed by mike. you find it riveting, really — as riveting as the tale of processed and packaged animal flesh can be. a silence ensues once richie makes a horrible joke about vegans, and then he clears his throat awkwardly.

"so, fireworks? who dares me to blow one up eddie's ass? maybe it'll get the stick outa there," he chirps, and eddie shrieks and chucks a stick at him.

richie smirks at him and tells him to follow him so they can fetch the fireworks and eddie reluctantly agrees. they scatter off, and you watch contently as they bump shoulders. your brows draw in, a bit depressed by the two of them— how badly you wished they knew. how badly you needed them to know they were everything you dreamed to be.

while you all wait for eddie and richie, ben and beverly disappear behind the trees to go explore this stream ben had found. he told her he felt very poetic being near it, which he had hoped would signal something to her, but she hadn't noticed. in the meantime, you and stanley stay by the fire and discuss his journal, as he gushes about a ruby-throated hummingbird, and shows you a light sketch of one — he shaded the throat, and it makes you smile. he's certainly improved on his work, and you feel a rush of pride break through the dam of your chest.

"stanley, you've really been practicing," you tell him, running your index finger over the graphite lining the yellow paper, "i can tell it's a bird this time! and it's not having a heart attack!"

he nods in approval, and he takes a second to realize you were referring to the first time you met when you told him his art looked like it was having a health scare. his dull eyes blink at you momentarily, like he's trying to figure you out or understand you— and it dawns on you that he's not thinking about the drawing anymore— but rather, he's trying to understand you as a whole— as though you are some sort of puzzle he can't quite put his finger on.

stan's attention retreats back to the journal, flipping occasionally to the next page and reading the notes he's taken on each bird. when your eyes drag down his face, you feel a twinge in your stomach— there's simply something about stanley uris that you can't quite put your finger on, either, and you rather like that about him; it gives you space to unravel and discover each day. you always feel like you're learning something new and jarring about him, and you like to think that gives him depth.

however, his face holds something harsh and cold— something that remains constant, despite the circumstances of his mystery— and it's the sadness. it's the sadness and the fatigue, written like scars across every inch of flesh, a consistent tattoo of sorrow. he's imprinted with it, as though it's simply the base coat on the canvas of his life— and it hurts you, seeing him sad. and it's worse knowing that you don't think you've seen stanley uris any other way.

and you consider, briefly, just for a striking moment— that maybe he's only sad when he's looking at you.

stan recounts a conversation he had with a girl in your shared english class, persephone— known universally as percy — an introverted blonde girl, who has a curious knack for all things odd and quirky. she likes to wear lacy, flowy dresses, and unusual jewelry. she has a rather soft voice, like listening to a cloud speak— and she too enjoys birds. he says it's been a while since he's had a decent talk with someone about the animals, and that he's happy she appears genuinely interested and engaged in the topic. you aren't surprised, by this, though; you half expect percy to be some sort of angelic tree nymph.

you open your mouth to reply to his story, a bitter tang of jealousy on your tongue you don't recognize, but richie tozier beats you to it. almost to your relief.

"what's up, whores?! you ready to blow this place up?" he calls out, raising some fireworks, with exhausted eddie dragging behind him. he looks like he wants to swallow gunpowder and then a match.

you find yourself beside him, hands on his shoulders. he's too tired to even remove them. "eds, what the hell happened to you?"

his eyes are hazy. "richie thought it would be smart to go through the shit path, and now i've probably got seven diseases, at least."

richie smirks. "didn't want to go the usual way. woulda got caught by the po-po."

"you're a handful, tozier," you say.

"you love it," he replies, blowing you a kiss.

"you got me."

the rest of the night is soft chaos; richie lights off the fireworks, and they burst in bright and vibrant colors, lighting up the night. the air is crisp and free, and the grass between your toes is heavenly. you become drunk on your youth, an alcoholic in your own right. you wonder, briefly, if this is the peak— if this is the highest point of your life, if this is what you're meant for. if you're the peter pan of your successful friends, if they will all grow to be everlasting lovers and soulmates.

if this is where your journey with them ends.

and, by god, watching the way beverly looks when she's in her element, dancing barefoot with the rest of you— the way they all gaze at her like she's some sort of angel, some sort of saving grace. the way you gaze at her. how your chest aches. how it burns, to be amongst her beauty, to be jealous and insecure and in love all at once. your feet buzz with the shake of the earth, the fire in the sky. your skin sears, like ashes racing to compete. at this moment, you swear you feel your entire being burning alive.

and it is exhilarating.

and as you watch them, hooting and screaming and letting their voices be heard, you feel infinite. like the world is putty in your hands, like they are the most exhilarating people you'll ever know and you'll spend the rest of your life just settling. and your heart calms, because suddenly everything is simple; you want to hang out with these people until the end of time.

and stanley, the way his curls glow under the fireworks— the way his skin shimmers in possibility. the sadness so present in his face has faded, like he's suddenly hazy and thoughtless. his movements, they're slow and unsure, like he's seconds away from making a fool of himself. but he's beautiful— like some sort of saint— stanley is the human form of apollo, he's the sun himself. apollo— you crave that for him. and his soil eyes stray from the others and meet your excitable ones; his expression is not blank, but rather glowing. you can't define a single emotion on it, but rather a feeling. one that doesn't have a word. one that just is.

and he's looking at you like you're a goddess— you, with a crown of flowers sewn into your chaotic head of hair, you, with your flowy skirt and bare feet— and you know no one has ever looked at you like that. it sparks something in you, something luminescent and empowering. and god, he glows. that boy glows.

and it hits you both at the exact same time, like a comet striking the earth— an epiphany in the form of a human.

i want to hang out with this person until the end of time.

and maybe, you consider, just for a moment, almost a guilty thought—

he wants to hang out with you, too.

is that so bad to wish for?

a person to spend the rest of your youth with?

a person to spend the rest of your life with?

a person to call your own?

and by god, you want it to be him.

let your cries shake the earth, if it isn't.

[🌿] taglist:

@hannarudick @cedricisnotonfire @russian-romanova

[bates--boy]

After being whisked away from the humdrum of post-performance celebration, Peter and his mentor and co-actor took a drive. He took the time to try to center himself, draw in the feeling of bliss and lift. He couldn't tone down the elation, but at least his hands stopped shaking and the tingling in his fingers and toes had cease. It helped to babble at 150 miles per hour how incredible he felt, how Naseem was right, how the gum trick really helped; bless Naseem for his patient ear and even his reciprocated joy.

          They arrived to a tucked-away diner, approaching a large table just as the occupants were finishing up the minimalistic (cheap) party decoration. Red and blue crepe streamers looped in a swirl and taped to the edges of the table and draped on the backs of the chairs; a plastic gold ice bucket, dotted with clear rhinestones and containing ice and a bottle of wine, sitting in the center, and gold and silver balloons tied to the corners of the chairs. And they must have, somehow, convinced or bribed the diner owner to let them hang from the ceiling a shimmering golden banner that said in swoops of black lettering: “Grattis till samlag”, crossing out “samlag” with “musikalisk”. Naseem’s belly-deep laugh after spotting the banner drew the attention of the partiers and everyone at the table paused in their decorating to clap and cheer. 

          One of the attendees leapt into Naseem’s arms, throwing her arms around his neck, careful to keep the single rose in her hand from tangling in his locs. Peter looked away with an awkward grin, rubbing his neck as the two shared a deep kiss right next to him. 

           “Congratulations, Naz! You were wonderful,” the woman said with a soft exuberance.

          :”Thank you, baby,” Naseem replied with the same loving softness. Then, patting Peter’s shoulder, Naseem said to everyone at the table, “Everyone, this is my co-actor and rapping student, Peter. Peter, this is my wife, Ashira, and my friends, Tarsha, Adel, and --”

          “Oh, my god!” Peter clapped and then pointed. “Oh, my god, oh, my go, you’re friends with Mic Droppa!” 

            Mickey Mic Droppa, who Peter struggled to recognize for a full minute without the dimmed lights of the boxing ring and the blinding shine of the boxing boots, gave a one-shoulder shrug and awkward grin. “Eh, I usually go by Mike off the stage. But, ah, nice to meetcha.”

          “It’s so cool to meet you!” Peter practically flew to Mike, taking the man’s hand and shaking vigorously. “Ever since Naseem took me to one of the rap battles, I’ve been listening to all of your music! You’re incredible, man!”

          Mike’s smile stretched even wider, under his increasingly reddened face. Peter could hear Ashira coo behind him, “Awww, Mike’s got his own fanboy from hell.”

          “With stars in his eyes, too,” Tarsha giggled.

          “Okay, Peter, let’s chill,” Naseem said as he patted Peter’s back and had him take a seat. Everyone else followed suit once the decorations were set, and Adel set to opening the wine. He passed out the filled glasses, and Naseem raised his. “To you guys, for coming to see us. For all of this, really. If it weren’t for your support throughout, I wouldn’t have pursued this.”

          “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Ashira said, snuggling in Naseem’s arm and taking a sip from the glass. 

         Naseem looked at her with a cocked brow. “All that aside: should you be drinking that?”

           Ashira nestled her head in the crook of Naseem’s neck. “Don’t worry, I pumped before I left.” She looked past Naseem’s neck to Peter. “Hey, Peter, right? You order whatever you want. We’ll foot the bill.”

          Peter blinked, broken out of his concentration of trying to stargazing at Mike from over the wine glass without being too obvious. “Really? Ah...” He put the glass down on the table with a small shake of his head. “Naaah, that’s okay, I can pay for myself. Heck, you guys did so much already, I can pay for you!”

          “Oh, shut up and order something so we can pay,” Naseem scoffed humorously. He gave Peter’s ankle a swift nudge with his foot. “And order an actual meal, not something that’s basically sugar.”

          “Why are you trying to restrict a grown ass man’s diet?” Ashira teased. 

          “You have not seen how this boy can pack away half a cake,” Naseem replied, picking up his menu.

          “It was not half a cake!” Peter protested. “It was a quarter, at the most, and I missed lunch that day!”

          Naseem gaped at him. “A quarter of a sheet cake.”

         Peter pouted and picked up his menu. “Shut up,” he grumbled, his chuckling afterwards muffled as he buried his face in the laminated menu.

          Their server came over to their table, taking everyone’s orders and switching out the empty wine bottle for a full one, though Ashira ordered a sparkling raspberry water. Adel was already at work popping the cork off that one, while they caught up with each other with Peter nursing his water and listening. Tarsha’s finally breaking even with her graphic design freelance and getting cheapskate clients to pay up, and Adel’s dissertation on Sámi and West African literature being published in an academic journal of literary studies. (Peter wanted to chirp in how his father reads the journal that Adel will be featured in, but he was too engrossed in these personal lives to bother). And Mike, who did not look like the type of person to work as a librarian, surprised Peter when he shared that he was offered a director position for two branches.

          “Why wouldn’t you take it?” Ashira asked after a brief pause. “This is exactly what you need to get your crazy-ass ex off your back, right?”

          “Yeah, but...” Mike shrugged. He lazed back in his chair and watched his dark wine lap around the inside as he swirled his glass. “It isn’t really something I see myself doing for a long time, you know?”

          “And I guess,” Ashira replied, taking on an edge to her tone that had Naseem clearing his throat and even Peter busying himself with rubbing his thumb along the rim of his glass, “your long-term career is building up your music channel career?”

          Mike looked right into Ashira’s eyes and said a simple, “Yep.” And upon seeing whatever brimmed beneath Ashira’s cool façade, Mike quickly turned his attention to their guest, fixing Peter with an easy and inquisitive smile. “So, Peter, Naseem said you’re his rapping student. How’re the lessons going for you?”

        “Oh, they’re going really well!” Peter said. “He’s been helping me with my delivery and technique and pretty much everything. Guy’s even giving me homework, if you’d believe it!”

         Mike nodded. “Yeeeeah, that sound about right.”

        “But they’re working though,” Naseem added in. 

         “True,” Peter agreed. He took a sip of his water and clinked the remaining ice around. “And they’re fun. Even if there’s a big possibility I won’t get Josef’s role.”

          “Awww,” Adel said. 

         Peter bobbed a shoulder and stared into the glass, half his mind hoping that the tiny black fleck he saw stuck to an ice cube wasn’t a fly. “Eh, it’s fine. The guy playing Josef, Oda, he does the role and songs really well.”

          “That he does,” Mike said. “But I still would like to see what you’ve learned so far.” He fell silent, still watching his drink swirl about, eyebrows knitting together as he turned a thought over and over in his mind. “...Hm, you know what? If you don’t get to play Josef, then maybe you can show what you got at a battle.”

          The server returned once more with their food. The rich aroma of Peter’s cheesy potato scampi bake danced under Peter’s nose, but the man did not register the scent as he gawked at Mike. “What... You serious?”

         Mike nodded. “Yeah, I mean, the tournament itself is almost over this term, but you can still sign up as a guest performer, get your name out there and show us what you got.”

          “Wow...” Peter stared stunned at the table. He looked toward his mentor, whom had already began splitting the hamburger platter and salad with his wife, and asked with a smirk that did nothing to hide his overload of hopefulness, and asked, “Do you think I’m ready for that?”

         Naseem gave the question some thought. “...Probably. We did need to start working on your writing, and maybe having you come up with stuff on the spot can be good training.”

        As Peter waved his fist in total, starry-eyed glee, Mike offered, “And if you end up not being ready after all, you can still hang out with us.”

          “We try to get together and indulge in our love for hip hop at least once a week,” Adel added. “You know, talk music, follow artists, spit bars. All of that good stuff.”

           “Wait!” Peter gasped. He looked everyone in the eye, his mouth still hanging open. “All of you are rappers?!”

          “Oh, shit, there’s that look in his eye, again,” Tarsha murmured before taking a bite of her chorizo. 

          “Yep,” Adel said. “We’re mostly hobbyists, but we fell in love with the scene. Got married to the game.”

          “Minus me,” Ashira said. “But I think my husband serves as an excellent proxy to the hip hop underground. He shoots the best videos.”

          “You’re so sweet,” Naseem joked. 

          “Yeah, let’s cut down on the lovey-dovey stuff before you make me lose my dinner,” Mike cut in. “When you’re up for it, I can help you get set up at the gym. Just hit me or Naseem up and we’ll talk to our guy, right?”

          Naseem grinned at Peter with cheeks puffed up with food. Peter looked at everyone around the table. That sensation he felt backstage, when he was linked hand-in-hand in the circle with his co-actors, it bubbled up in him tenfold, warmth alighting in his chest at Mike’s friendly grin and nod.

         “I... I would love that!” Peter chuckled.

[bitchinrichie]

Fears of the Past ch 6

Major IT ch 2 Spoilers

Ayyyyyy I’m back babey, this is the last chapter of this fic I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you for being patient with me

**********************************

You left Stanley’s side, running and panicking to see if IT had really killed your friends, Stan was calling after you but you kept going up the incline to the edge where you saw Richie and Eddie disappear. Reaching the top, you found nothing,

“Richie!! Eddie!”

“Down here!” You heard Eddie’s faint voice from below in a another cavern. Gaining the attention of the others, you all make your way down to them; Eddie is hovering over Richie who seems to be unconscious. His glasses were broken but still intact and he sort of looked peaceful. Eddie, however, was about to go into cardiac arrest,

“Why isn’t he waking up? This isn’t- he’s gonna wake up. GUYS WHY ARE YOU JUST FUCKING STANDING AROUND WE HAVE TO HELP HIM”

“What do you want us to do? He’s unconscious, we can’t do much-” Stan stated in all fairness but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“HE’S YOUR BEST FUCKING FRIEND AND YOU AREN’T GONNA FUCKING DO ANYTHING?!” You all knew that Eddie was just upset but as you looked at Stan, you could see him break inside. He backed away from beside Richie while you glared at Eddie but he was looking at Richie again. Mike went over to console Stan while the others tried to form a plan.

After just moments of silence, IT started digging its claws into the cavern, trying to get to you all, drooling and screaming. A plan was made to sneak past IT and make it into the narrow passage back toward the sewers, you helped Eddie grab Richie following behind the others.

‘I SEE YOU LOSERS YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME” The dumb clown had found you again, clown, he was just a clown….

“Guys, I have an idea, everything in nature must act in the shape or form they come in right? IT’s just a clown, we just have to make IT believe that,” you set Richie down or tried to at least as you felt his hand grip yours,

“Fuck, what did I miss?”

“Richie! Fuck are you okay? Are you bleeding? What hurts-” Eddie was promptly cut by Richie pulling him down and kissing him. It was very quick but his point was made,

“You worry too much, Eds” Richie hazily smiled before realizing what he had just done, quickly standing up, not looking at Eddie; on the other hand, Eddie was blushing and his mouth was in the shape of an ‘O’.

“Not that you guys aren’t adorable but we should probably take on the killer clown first,” you joked and they both nodded standing further away from each other. You all were joined as a group again facing Pennywise, standing side by side, once again ready to fight. Stanley wasted no time,

“YOU’RE A STUPID FUCKING CLOWN, THAT’S ALL YOU ARE AND EVER WILL BE!”

IT cowered into itself even if it was the slightest bit, you all saw. IT was angry and it wouldn’t back down easily but neither would any of you. You looked over and saw Stan was shaking, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, nodding at the other losers. The Losers Club was going to win this fight, your fears subsiding, it was only an outdated clown.

***

No matter how terrifying Pennywise could be, he was still a coward and if none of you showed fear, he would have nothing over you. So long story short you all basically bully IT to death and it’s very therapeutic, this was what set you all free. IT had terrorized you as a clown, father, friends, family, and monsters to feed on childlike innocence. And now you were free.

No more lost memories or hesitation due to a killer clown, you all could live out the rest of your lives with the people you truly loved and who truly loved you back. Unfortunately now was not the time for that because the cavern started to collapse. Running to get back up into Neibolt was very stressful but since everyone was on an adrenaline high from murdering a demon, it went pretty quickly.

Stan pulls you close as you run out of the rotting house that was currently sinking into the ground. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and you can feel his heart beating insanely fast. The others crowd together as the house disappears,

“Honey, it’s over, it’s gone. We’re free,” you whisper to him and some to yourself. He nods and lifts his head up to look at you,

“Is Rich okay?”

“He’s fine, he wasn’t seriously injured.” He nods again, his eyes holding all of his pent up emotions and you wish he wasn’t so hard on himself.

“I almost didn’t come, I thought- I wanted to end it.” He didn’t look at you in fear of the shame he guessed he’d see on your face.

“We were all scared, I understand, we all do. IT hurt you really badly. But we defeated it together and without you, it wouldn’t be the same. You saved us Stan,” you wipe his tears and kiss his cheek. He finally looks at you and his eyes hold pride and love, a look you missed on him.

***

The quarry. It was peaceful, just like it was when you were teenagers and swam around in your underwear. One last place that wasn’t touched by the horrors you all witnessed, you wanted to cleanse yourselves.

“No, this is stupid and gross and we could get like seven diseases from swimming in that water, fuck you guys.” Eddie was complaining profusely that you’d all die, he was always kind of a protector. Not that you listened to him.

Bev jumps off first, followed by you and Stan and of course the others. Richie having to put Eddie over his shoulder as he jumped in. You could hear Richie laughing as Eddie screamed at him for making him jump into the dirty water,

“Hey! Are we gonna talk about what happened between you two?” Bev smirks at the two and they freeze.

“Uh listen I um I wasn’t thinking- it was a spur of the moment, I’m so sorry Eds I just-” Eddie cut him off by kissing him again,

“You talk too much.” He smiles nervously, pulling away from Richie but he just hugs him tight, crying into Eddie’s shoulder. You were so happy, you knew Richie loved him, even if he didn’t tell you. The looks he gave Eddie were the same ones you gave Stan. Oh. Stan.

“Uh hey guys? If we’re sharing stuff. Um I’m- I am bisexual.” You didn’t dare look at anyone’s face, you were too scared of being rejected by your friends and your true love.

“Thanks for running it bi us,” you whip your head up and find Richie smiling at you with understanding and encouragement. Bev squeezes your arm, Bill and Mike giving you a thumbs up, Ben and Eddie high five while smiling at you, and Stan looks at you with pure adoration.

“There is nothing in the world that change my feelings for you, I love you Y/n,” he wraps you in his arms and feel so loved and supported than you have in decades. Richie and Eddie join you two, hugging you tight which induces an all out group hug. This was your family, your friends, your love, and your life.

***

2 years later

You were currently sitting on the couch while your lovely husband makes you lunch because he won’t let you do anything around the house anymore. You still lived in Los Angeles, Stan wanted to move in with you after everything that happened in Derry. He told you that he wouldn’t make you move since you were a famous animator for Disney, you told him it wasn’t a big deal but he was so proud of you. You had dreamed of working for Disney since you were 11, Stan always encouraged your drawing so you dedicated a short to him, Piper that played before Finding Dory.

You and Stan had always been huge Disney fans and when you took him to see the movie, you watched his reaction to the short before it. He cried. That was two years ago and now you were married, he proposed not even a week after that and you were married two months later. It wasn’t a huge wedding but all the losers came and your father was there as were Stan’s parents. It was beautiful but you were just happy to finally be with your soulmate and now with a little one on the way. Stan was beyond ecstatic when you told him you were pregnant, his little songbird.

“Honey, are you sure you don’t need help? I’m not crippled you know”

“Yes! I can make lunch, Y/n. No, but you’re carrying our child and I don’t want you stressed out,” Stan was dedicated to making you comfortable and doing everything so you didn’t have to.

“Richie did ask me to be his maid of honor so I’m going to be doing something eventually,” Richie and Eddie were getting married in three months and Richie claimed both you and Stan as maid of honor and groomsman and Bev as a bridesmaid. Eddie was pissed at first but he gets Mike and Bill and Ben. Richie clarifying that he very much was the wife in the marriage.

Stan sighed and you could hear him laughing to himself as he approached you with your soup, he kisses your stomach and then your lips before eating his food,

“So I’ve been thinking about names.. If it’s a boy I was thinking Wren or Robin. If it’s a girl, Aya or Rosella,” he smiles warmly at you. You haven’t told him about the gender yet,

“I like Aya.” he smiles but looks at you in confusion until it clicks.

“You- it’s a girl?” you nod and he immediately wraps you in his arms, hugging you tightly and he’s crying. He lets go to kiss your tummy again,

“My beautiful girls. Aya means bird in Hebrew, so my little birdie, you’re gonna be daddy’s little girl huh?” You smile and you feel tears on your cheeks. You never thought you would be here, that any of you would be free.

You married the love of your life and having his child. Bev and Ben got married last year and travel all over the world, Bill and Mike are engaged and moved down to Florida and Bill finally finishing a book well, and Eddie and Richie finally getting married soon. You all took back your lives and now you’re making up for lost time but by now those 27 years don’t matter. No longer did you have nightmares of your fears of the past but dreams of what awaited you, you’d always be losers but you no longer had anything to lose.

@honeybunthegalwithteethforeyes @eddiegaykaspbrak @tozierchee @chipoisaloser @multi-parker @tropicaluris @checkontherep @adritozier @happyhanlon @itsbaconheree

[simplyclockwork]

Risk Over Reward: A StartUp x Sherlock Crossover

John Watson is a crooked, borderline psychopathic FBI agent hiding a dark secret. Four months after the massive GenCoin and Geiser scandal, Agent Watson is still recovering from the nearly fatal gunshot wound he sustained in the Everglades, when he is called into the Bureau to run point on a new case. Intel says a financial crime syndicate based in London has begun moving into Miami, making it onto the FBI’s radar. 

Sherlock Holmes, a specialist agent with the UK National Crime Agency (NCA), is sent to London to assist with the investigation and pioneer coordination between the two agencies. When he and John Watson are paired up for the case, John is not pleased to be working with a younger know-it-all, posh rich boy type, and does little to hide his animosity. 

As time passes, the two realize they have more in common than their initial impressions of one another. When they become tangled up in the complex case, they will have to learn to trust one another to stay alive. 

Preview below the ‘keep reading’ break.

Just posting this here for now, in case I don’t end up writing enough to actually put it up on Ao3. Photos and characters are not mine.

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

After the massive syndicate take-down four months ago, John felt like he’d hardly had time to catch his breath. Life had become a seemingly endless blur of interviews, meetings, debriefings, court cases, and media gauntlets. By the time everything slowed, and the aftermath of his I don’t care comment on nationwide television had died down, he was left feeling distorted and removed from himself.

Empty—again.

At least he no longer felt the need to scrub the floor of the bathroom, obsessive and on his knees, sweat plastering his t-shirt against a bent back.

As things settled back to some semblance of normality, John sat in his kitchen; sipped at a glass of red wine and looked across the room with vacant eyes. He idly wondered where Izzy Morales was—if she had managed to get away before the conspiracy of GenCoin and Geiser erupted into the firebomb she’d known it would become.

His phone rang, startlingly loud in the silent house. Grabbing the device, he recognized the number for the Bureau. Setting the wine glass down to answer the call, he pressed the compact gadget to his ear.

“This is Watson.”

“Watson, it’s Mike Stamford.” The voice on the other end was tired but friendly, edged with exhaustion. “Sorry to call you so late.”

“Not at all, Deputy Director.” John replied, pushing off the stool and standing. His leg, still weak from the bullet that had nearly killed him in the Everglades, threatened to buckle. Grabbing at the counter, he leaned heavily against it, the edge of the kitchen island digging into his back.

“All right, Watson.” Mike replied, and John could almost hear the man’s brusque nod through the phone. “There’s been some intel—a financial crime ring based in London that’s been moving into the US. Seems they might be cooking something up here, in Miami.” A pause. “After the GenCoin-Geiser operation, your name came up.”

John pressed his free hand against the countertop, fingers curling over the cold marble. “Right.” He replied, looking down at his shaking leg. “Not sure I’ll be much use in the field just yet.” His voice was low and even, but his brows drew down in a hard stare.

Mike was already speaking, voice dismissive. “No worries about that—the UK National Crime Agency is sending one of theirs, some kind of specialist agent with enough field experience to exhaust us both, I’m sure. Weird name—Sherlock Holmes, I think. Very keen, or so I’m told.”

John’s mouth quirked, a humourless smile that bordered on a grimace. In his experience, keen was just a polite word for young, and he didn’t exactly rejoice at the idea of partnering with some over-eager child agent from the UK. He was probably some stuck-up moron who thought he could become a hot-shot big-wig one day if he sniffed the right assholes and greased the right wheels.

And he didn’t relish the thought of having a new partner after what had happened to the last one.

Rolling his shoulders, John sighed. “All right.” He said, finally.

“Thanks, Watson.” Mike replied, the rustle of papers and the click-clack of a keyboard slipping through the microphone. “He should be here tomorrow morning, around 10. See you then.”

“Yep.” John ended the call, letting the phone slip from his hand and drop against the counter. Lifting the wine glass, he brought it to his lips, but didn’t drink. Instead, he stared at the kitchen backsplash, the edge of the glass cool against his skin.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 A mild limp in his step, John mounted the stairs of the FBI building, dropping his gun into a grey bin as he passed under the metal detectors; scooping it up again as he stepped out the other side. Resettling the weapon in its holster, he readjusted the badge hooked to his belt and looked at the stairs. After a moment of hesitation, eyes fixed into a hard, angry glare, he made his way to the elevators.

Inside, bland music played as the floors ticked past. When he reached the 5th floor, and the door slid open, John moved into a window-lined hallway, the sun edging his silvered hair with brief flashes of gold as he passed through patches of natural light.

As he turned a corner and approached Deputy Director Stamford’s office, John paused, taking in the presence of a man hovering outside the door. He was looking out a window at the cityscape. Narrowing his eyes, John took a moment to look over what he assumed to be the NCA agent.

He was tall—much taller than John had expected, at least six feet. His hair was thick, curled and dark, a cascade of what appeared to be carefully orchestrated chaos. Dressed in a crisp black suit jacket and matched pants, the collar of a white dress shirt peeked out above the open top buttons of the jacket. Polished shoes; stern composure; and a rim-rod straight posture.

John hated him already.

Striding forward, brushing invisible lint from the shoulder of his blue blazer and trying not to limp too noticeably, John cleared his throat.

“Sherlock Holmes, I presume?” He said, holding out a hand.

The tall man turned, sunlight painting the side of his face in harsh relief, all high cheekbones and sharp angles. His eyes—very pale, shifting from blue to green to a hard grey—zeroed in on John. They narrowed slightly, moving over the FBI agent’s body, from foot to forehead and back, before he reached out. His hand, large and long-fingered, engulfed John’s own compact, strong hand, pumping once, twice in a solid shake.

“And you must be Agent Watson.” He replied. His voice was a low, rumbling baritone, polished English accent rounding out the vowel sounds in his words. His lips—oddly full and very pale in his white face—curved in a slight smile that did not reach the piercing eyes. “Pleasure.” He released John’s hand, arm falling back to his side.

“Likewise.” John’s voice was flat, mirroring the same carefully empty tone the other man affected. Sherlock’s hard stare flashed over him again, and John frowned, turning to look out the windows. “Have you been to Miami before?” He asked, rubbing absently at his side, the thick gunshot scar itching beneath his button-up.

“No, this is my first time.” Sherlock replied, stiff and formal. “It’s… not quite what I expected.”

John snorted. “Sorry to hear it’s not as nice as jolly old London.” His tone held a hint of mockery.

Sherlock was silent, hands clasped behind his back.

Quiet stretched out and John shifted, rubbing at the back of his neck. Where was Stamford?

Beside him, Sherlock rocked back on his heels. Tilting his head, he looked John over again, x-ray eyes sharp.

“How long ago were you shot?” He said, the words sudden in the quiet. John’s head whipped around and his eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?” John demanded, voice hard and edged with hostility.

Sherlock sighed, turning to look out the window again. “It was recent, and very serious. Resulted in an infection, I think.” He reached out, drumming fingertips against the glass. “There’s a slight limp and a pull to your right side, so I assume internal organs were compromised—likely your intestinal tract, in some capacity.” His eyes flickered to John’s tense face. “Sepsis, yes?”

John scowled down at his feet. His leg shook and he pressed the palm of his hand hard to the thigh. “Yes.” His head jerked up and he looked at Sherlock with tension in his jaw. “Did you look me up or something? It’s hardly a secret, me being shot.”

The taller man snorted, rolling his eyes as a mild smirk drifted across his lips. “Hardly, Agent Watson.” He stretched his fingers out, looking at the well-kept fingernails as if completely uninterested in the conversation. “I merely observed.”

John opened his mouth to respond, a rude retort burning at the tip of his tongue, when the door to Mike Stamford’s office swung open, cutting into the moment.

“Agent Watson, Mr. Holmes.” Mike stepped into the hall, reaching out to offer a hand to Sherlock, which was shaken with the same perfunctory politeness the NCA agent had extended to John earlier. “Please, come in.”

[derryhawkins]

what did you say?

summary: there are five times richie says those three little words to the love of his life, but it takes six for eddie to actually hear him and say it back. warnings: none?? i think word count: 7.4k a/n: this is set within canon so get ready for a tad bit of pain & angst. i’d put a spoiler warning for it ch2 but i haven’t seen it yet & idk how the final battle actually goes down so,, yeah. also this is the longest thing i’ve written under nine hours & sorry for any typos! x

i.

It wasn’t necessarily out of the blue for anyone in the Losers Club to say three special words to one another. They were a group of best friends who fought a demonic entity together – they almost died. After the oath, and once things settled back normal other than a few nightmares they had once in a while, the group of seven told each other ‘I love you’ more often than not, probably everyday if one were to count how often.

And of course Richie said it to Eddie – if anything, he said it to the smaller boy the most. It had started out as the Tozier boy joking around long before they fought a clown in the sewers, but, eventually as time went on, that changed. Richie wanted to say he didn’t know when it changed, because he knew the exact moment it did: with Bill, Beverly, Eddie and himself in that godforsaken house, the clown coming towards them, Eddie’s arm broken, everyone yelling but Richie shouting the loudest to get Eddie to look at him. Because – fuck. Fuck, Richie couldn’t lose Eds. His Eds. A boy he’s had a crush on for what seems like forever now. It had been in that terrifying moment that Richie realized with an equally terrifying realization that he loved Eddie fucking Kaspbrak. And, with time, he started saying those words to him less after everything ended. Not drastically so – he didn’t want to make it obvious.

But those three little words, the meaning of them more like, had shifted into something more, and saying them not in that way felt wrong.

It was some day random Saturday afternoon. The seven of them were lounging at the quarry, soaking up the warm sun the best they could with autumn just around the corner. Mike was with Bill in the water, and Beverly was nearby on a rock smoking a cigarette, Ben not too far away as he tried to get a radio to work so they weren’t in complete silence. Stan attempted to help, but between getting frustrated that they couldn’t get it to work and Bev’s cig smoke, he soon ventured into the water with Bill and Mike. Richie and Eddie were sitting on a towel together, both in swim trunks and the heat of the sun was making their shoulders turn the slightest bit pink, but as they ate some snacks Stan and Bev brought along, neither particularly cared just yet.

“Hey!” Richie exclaimed suddenly and turned to Eddie. “Lets stuff our faces and say something and see if the other can guess what we’re saying!”

Eddie made a face of pure disgust. “Ew, why would- that- how did you come up with that?! That sounds so fucking disgusting, Rich, oh my god, I don’t wanna see half eaten food in your germy mouth!”

“How can it be germy if your mom kisses it?”

“Richie, I swear!”

Richie busted out laughing. “C’mon, Eds!” He pleaded and stuck out his bottom lip, leaning towards the boy. “Please?”

“Get your face away from me!” Eddie grunted and put his hand on the side of Richie’s face, pushing him away, and Richie grinned some more, hoping the pink on his cheeks would come off as a sunburn or something. “Your stupid puppy eyes don’t work on me, fucker, not anymore!”

“You’re so lame.”

“I’m lame?!”

They went back and forth as they ate a couple more snacks. Occasionally, Stan shouted at them to shut up, and Bev once in a while egged Richie on, earning a death glare from Eddie as Richie, Ben, and Beverly laughed. Finally, Ben got the radio to work and turned it up load enough for everyone to hear. It wasn’t long after that when Mike came over and forcibly dragged the two outs away from the snacks, claiming they were going to eat all of it they didn’t leave right then.

At some point, they all got in the water. For a while they played together – chicken, splash attacks, fake drowning, sharks – but eventually they all drifted to do their own thing. Mike and Bill were racing one another and Ben was timing it. Beverly was seeing how far she could swim below the surface and for how long she could do it, but Stan stayed close by her in case something went wrong, and Eddie was floating on his back, basking in the sun some more. Richie was just swimming around randomly, annoying his friends when he felt like it, and talking everyone’s ears off even if they weren’t listening, but in all honesty he was mostly just speaking to Eddie.

Richie stopped swimming and splashing around for a second, eyes landing on Eddie. It was a blurry sight – he left his glasses in the grass so he wouldn’t lose them in the water – but it was sharp enough for him to see who it was. He squinted to make the sight better, wiping water from his eyes, and a fond smile formed on his lips. He sunk down to hide it with the water in case any of the losers were watching. The sounds of Mike and Bill shouting as they raced faded out, same with Ben’s enthusiastic yells as he cheered both boys on. Stan’s laugh mixed with Beverly’s became background noise. The birds chirping simply became nonexistent. Eddie was just floating. He looked decently relaxed, a content smile on his features. Brunet hair floating in the water and stuck to his forehead, and from what Richie could see, the other boy’s eyes were closed.

A garble of words and bubbles came up as Richie spoke. It took Eddie out of his relaxed state and he looked at Richie with quizzical eyes. “What the fuck was that, Trashmouth?”

Squinty eyes turned wide. He pushed himself above water. “Um- I like blue! Like the sky, and water, and the bra your mom wears when we-.”

“Beep beep, Richie!” A chorus of six voices sounded, paired with Eddie splashing Richie.

The boy laughed. He backed away once Eddie splashed him, thinking instead of voicing the words he had said underwater that Eddie thankfully didn’t understand.

I love you.

ii.

“If I knew you were going to be even more annoying, I would’ve fucking threw that joint in the trash – or better, not have come along at all! But no you and Bev just had to get high for the first time and bring me along in case any serious and bad shit happened- will you stop laying on me?! You’re not a pet, Richie!” Eddie went on, mouth moving a mile per second it seemed like, complaint after complaint escaping him.

He had been studying for end of semester finals like his other two friends should be doing, but the redhead and the trashmouth wanted to try getting high for the first time at fifteen. Ben was sick with the flu, and was only just now on the road to recovery, so he had been out of the question when the two wanted a friend to supervise them in case it somehow all went to shit. Bill claimed he always studied better alone, and Mike, as much as he wanted to join the two on their high journey, declined because he needed to help his granddad with something. Stanley at first had agreed but backed out last minute when he realized he hadn’t done a single thing for an important essay due in three days. So, it had been down to Eddie, who wanted to say no it all, but figured it would get him away from his mom for some time.

The boy now wished he had walked away when he had the chance.

While Bev was munching away on some chips as she looked at a fashion magazine, occasionally speaking so deep and meaningful that even Eddie had to remind himself he was perfectly sober. Hopefully. Could you get high from second hand weed smoke? He wondered if it were possible, considering they were confined in Richie’s bedroom, the boy’s parents out of town for work. But hopefully that wasn’t the case.

Once the weed had started kicking in for Richie, it was if a switch had been flipped. He wasn’t talking as much as he usually was. He hadn’t completely shut up, but he had gotten quieter the more he got high. And clingier, too. At first he had cuddled Beverly and told her he loved her. She didn’t mind until she had to run off to pee, and that was when Richie moved onto Eddie, causing the boy’s endless complaints because he was unable to study, let alone move. He was on Richie’s bed, study notes, papers, and books all around him until Richie not so neatly pushed some away and crawled into Eddie’s lap. Usually, Eddie could care less. He loved cuddles. But he needed to pass this one class in particular and Richie’s high-clinginess was preventing that.

“I should’ve gone with Stan,” Eddie said. “Fucking Stan, at least he would be letting me study!”

“Calm your tits, Eddie, the science exam still isn’t until next Friday,” Bev told, waving a hand dismissively as she flipped a page of the magazine.

“You promised I’d be able to study!”

“I did, yeah.”

“Meanwhile, I didn’t,” Richie said, sounding proud of himself. 

Eddie smacked him on the back of the head, muttering a few cuss words, and leaned back on his hands, Richie almost full on koala-ing him. Richie’s arms were wrapped around his torso and his head was nestled in the crook of Eddie’s neck, both legs on one side of Eddie in a bit of an awkward angle. Richie started talking again about one thing or another, but Eddie just tuned him out and let his head fall back, eyes staring at the ceiling. He gave up on complaining. It wasn’t getting anywhere and he didn’t want to annoy Bev too much with how unhappy he is about the situation.

“---ove spaghetti.”

Eddie blinked and looked at Richie. Well, Richie’s hair. “Spaghetti?” He repeated, confused.

Richie nodded. “Yeah, I love Spaghetti.”

The shorter boy snorted and half-heartedly rolled his eyes. “I know you like spaghetti, Richie, you brought it as your lunch for a solid week last month,” he said. “But I’m not making you any, if that’s what you’re getting at. It’s ten thirty at night.” Eddie added the last bit after glancing at the digital clock by Richie’s bed, and he heard Bev make a sound at the back of her throat, agreeing with Eddie.

“No. That’s not-,” he stopped himself and let out a sigh. Eddie tensed and hunched his shoulders, the breath of air causing chill bumps to form all over his body. “My Spaghetti, dumbass. My Eddie Spaghetti. Eds Spagheds. Spaghetti Man. I love you.”

Eddie blinked. He looked to the ceiling, then to Beverly who had sat up from her position in Richie’s bean bag. Her blue eyes were stuck on the two. Then finally, Eddie looked down at Richie again. He let out a little laugh. “Dude, you’re such a sap when high!” Eddie exclaimed in amusement. “First Bev, now me, who’s next? Stan? You gonna call him, or what?” He giggled some more at the thought of Richie calling Stan up so late just to say ‘I love you’.

Richie scoffed and shifted his weight. “I dunno. No,” he mumbled. “I really do love you, Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but a smile tugged on his lips, ignoring the feeling of his face becoming just the slightest bit warm. He then laid back; his arms were getting tired from holding both his weight and Richie’s, and seeing as he wasn’t going to get any studying done, he let Richie full on cuddle him. “Whatever, Tozier,” he whispered.

They ended up falling asleep like that: cuddled into one another with Eddie’s study papers strewn around them, and Bev had fallen asleep in the bean bag. When Richie woke up the following morning, he was extremely yet pleasantly surprised to find Eddie fast asleep on his chest, their legs tangled together. Richie slipped his glasses on after grabbing them from their spot beside his head, and wrapped his arms tighter around Eddie, soaking in the blissful moment the best he could.

iii.

Richie Tozier believed he truly fucked up. And it wasn’t the type of fuck up that he could easily fix with a joke or a Voice, or anything of the sort. In a high daze he had confessed to Eddie Kaspbrak that he loved him, and it wasn’t masked as a joke. He didn’t mean to - well, he did but he didn’t - and he has learned he has even less of a filter when high, and that’s saying something considering he barely has one when sober. After that blissful morning, the dawning realization of it all hit him full force later that afternoon when he was home alone trying to get the smell of weed out of his room. 

Fifteen year old Richie Tozier had called Beverly, insisted she come back over, and he spilled the beans the moment she stepped into his house with a puzzled look. It had taken over two hours for Bev to calm the boy down. She insisted Eddie most likely brushed it off as nothing more than Richie being Richie, and insisted that even she took it that way considering he had continuously told her, “I love you,” as they cuddled minutes before then. It calmed him down, somewhat. But that paranoia of Eddie knowing when Richie doesn’t want him to know just yet was still there. Even after exams were over and they were spending Christmas break together, it was still there.

So, he did what any logical fifteen year old would do at the time.

He just stopped saying those words. To Eddie. No one else. If anything, he probably amplified the mention of those three little words to his best friends, excluding the literal love of his life. Other than those times Richie would say, “I love you guys,” he never said them to Eddie specifically. And it stayed that way for a while. A year and a half, specifically.

During that time, Mike had actually questioned him, a bit taken back by the amount of times the Tozier boy had shouted those words at him within a week. Richie had easily explained that he just had a lot of love in his heart at the time. And he said the same thing when Stan confronted him. When Ben asked, Richie had simply asked in reply, “Can I not tell my best friends I love them?” Bill gave him odd looks once in a while but never said anything, chalking it up to be Richie just being his odd self. And Beverly never asked or confronted him because she knew why.

At some point, he made a game: whenever he felt the urge to just blurt, “I love you,” to his best friend, he would instead just tell one of the other Losers, or stated that he loved the tree they were passing or a candle he saw in a window of a store.

“That’s a nice ice cream parlor, I love it there.”

“We know, Richie, we’ve been there a thousand times.”

“I love that cake your mom made the other day, Stan!”

“I’ll tell her you said that.”

“Love your new hair cut, Bev!”

“I got it cut a month ago?”

“Still looks good! Ain’t I right, Ben? C’mon, agree with me!”

Those days turned into months, and those months turned into a year, and then a few more months went by and then it was a year and a half since that grand idea of his came to be, and Richie truly believed everything was going well. Those words hadn’t slipped from his mouth for a good bit of time, and he was honestly proud of himself.

Until a furious Eddie barged into his room one afternoon after school.

“You lanky piece of fucking shit!”

Richie shrieked when the door flung open, and fell off of his bed into a heap on the floor with a blanket, a text book, some papers and his walkman. He scrambled to stand up, only to trip a few times over the blanket tangled at his ankles, and the wire of his walkman got tangled around his neck and arms. He struggled to get out of both, tossing them to side the harshly once he freed himself. He straightened himself posture wise but his wild and messy hair stayed the same, as did his crooked glasses. A smile formed on his blushing face as he looked at Eddie.

“Eddie, my man! What a nice surprise-.”

“I fucking hate you,” Eddie seethed as he stepped farther into the room, marching over to Richie. The smile Richie wore fell instantly. “You are such a dickhead, did you know that?”

Richie held his hands up as Eddie poked his chest. “Whoa, hey, what’s- huh?” He was thoroughly confused, to say the least. And, a little bit scared. Eddie may be shorter than most guys their age, but he packed a good punch and was the feistiest out of all the Losers. Richie used to just laugh when Eddie got mad, claiming such a short boy could never be intimating. Now, years later, Eddie was taller and more well built though he still looked awkward being a teen and all, but he had more a bit more muscle than when he was six and a better choice of fowl words as well. Richie had no choice but to admit Eddie could be intimidating.

Eddie scoffed harshly. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m getting on about!” He yelled. 

“No, I don’t!” Richie yelled back. Both of his parents were home, but he didn’t care and it seemed as if Eddie didn’t either. The teen only hoped neither came up to check on all the yelling, and he was honestly surprised they didn’t with Eddie furiously stomping in.

“Jesus, Rich, I know you do! I also know you don’t wanna be my friend anymore! You hate me.”

“The fuck I do. Who fucking said that?”

“No one, but they don’t have to say anything!”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“You don’t tell me you love me! You’re always saying it to the others in some way or another, and it wasn’t until I was studying with Ben and Stan when I realized. They took a break and talked about how you’re always saying ‘I love you’ to them, and then I’m sitting there feeling like completely fucking shit because you stopped saying that to me! You used to say it all the time when we were kids, and after...that summer, you said it less, but I didn’t think anything of it, but now you’ve completely stopped! You could’ve just said you don’t wanna be friends anymore with me rather than just drifting away. We don’t even fucking hang out one on one anymore!”

Oh, shit. Richie’s fucked up. His eyes widened behind his glasses and he lowered his hands. “Eds, that- that’s not...” He trailed off, unable to find any words that would make the situation better. He felt his gut churn with guilt as he noticed that Eddie was crying. The tears started to fall mid-way through his rant and he hadn’t made an effort to calm down and stop them.

Eddie sniffled and wiped the tears on his cheeks away. “Look-.”

Richie bent down and wrapped his arms tightly around Eddie’s waist, and picked him up. “I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck, Rich, get off!”

“No!” Richie squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Eddie tighter, the shorter boy doing his best to get out of Richie’s grasp. “No, Eddie, okay, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m a dumbass, I wasn’t thinking straight at all, you have every right to hate me but I could never hate you. Okay?”

Eddie stopped fighting. “...What?”

Richie continued, “I just thought you got tired of it, y’know? Annoyed and all. You never really said it back when I did say it to you, so I thought you didn’t want to hear it, so I stopped. You’re my best friend and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, I didn’t meaning to, I just wasn’t using my brain. I do love you, please believe me.”

Silence fell over them. No one spoke for the next few minutes, and at some point Richie set Eddie back down and let go, taking a step back to give him space. He picked at his nails as he waited for Eddie to say something, avoiding eye contact.

Eddie sucked in a breath of air and let it out. “You’re a dick.”

Richie nodded. “Yeah.”

“But I don’t hate you, either. I mean, I probably should, but...” He trailed off and shrugged.

Richie looked up with a wide smile. “Really?”

“Yes, really, I don’t think I could hate you even if I tried,” Eddie admitted, a smile of his own forming.

Richie went to say something, but a knock on the door frame kept him from doing so. The two teens looked over to see Maggie Tozier standing there. The woman looked the slightest bit concerned as she stared back at them. “Everything okay in here?”

Eddie nodded, cheeks a bit pink, as Richie answered, “Yeah, just some mixed signals, Mags.”

Maggie gave her son a look.

Richie sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Mom.” He smiled, and so did she.

“Your father’s making spaghetti, by the way,” she told him. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes. Eddie, you’re free to join -- always will be.”

Eddie shook his head. “No, it’s fine-.”

“What? No, you’re staying,” Richie protested. “My Eddie Spaghetti eating spaghetti! It’s oddly poetic.”

Eddie made a face. “It’s weird.”

“So, you’re staying?”

“...Yes.”

“Yay!”

iv.

"You’re learning...Russian?” Mike asked hesitantly.

Richie nodded, holding the Russian dictionary like it was his pride and joy. “Yep! Latin’s too hard, Spanish is too basic, French is too...uh, French, and I couldn’t think of anything else, so Russian it is, Mikey! Care to join me?”

“Uh... Not this time, no.”

Richie beamed. “Perfect.”

Mike snorted out a laugh as he started to walk away. “You’re a weird one, Rich.”

“You love me, though!”

“Debatable!”

They laughed, and Richie reopened the book he had closed, going back to studying how to say ‘I love you’ in Russian. Of course, he was going to teach himself a few other things, but that was the main goal. The reason he chose Russian and none of the others was because it’s the least likely one where Eddie might too easily piece everything together. French would be the logical route to go considering that’s an elective he’s currently taking at school, but so is Eddie, so that completely rules it out. Then the others are taking Spanish. So, if he wanted everything to not come to light so suddenly, he had to go with something no one else knew, either.

“Hey, I can help you with that if you want. It’s hard.”

Richie’s stomach dropped. But he forced a smile as he looked up. Stan stood there, the sun shining behind him as if he were an angel. Right then, Richie thought he was the devil. “Stan the Man! Why aren’t you with Mike and Ben over there?” Richie asked. He pointed over to the large rocks the other two boys were on as they looked at a bird book Stan had brought along with him. For a split second, Richie glanced over to where Beverly, Bill, and Eddie were as they sat under a tree for shade, and then quickly looked back up to Stan, forcing another smile.

“Offering my help for once in your lame life,” Stan answered. “Really, it’s not that easy to learn. The Russians have a completely different alphabet than us.”

“No, thanks, I got it.”

“Richard.”

“Stanley.”

“Stop being difficult.”

“Do you even know me? I’m difficult every minute of every hour of every day of every month of every year!”

An unpleased look came over Stan’s face and before Richie knew it, Stan was forcibly hoisting the dark haired boy to his feet. “Rich and I are going for sno-cones! Give us your money if you want one!” He kept a firm grip on Richie’s elbow and turned to face him as their friends fished for money. “We’re talking. No funny business, got it?”

Richie nodded quickly. His heart was hammering in his chest from nerves, and he could feel his hands start to sweat -- and it wasn’t from the Spring heat. Stan must have noticed something, because his look softened and his grip loosened.

“It’s nothing bad, Rich,” he assured in a whisper as the other five started hurrying to them. “I promise.”

Richie could only nod again as he swallowed a lump in his throat. Then, they were grabbing money from their friends, and soon enough walking away from the barrens and to Richie’s new but beat down truck parked at the road. Stan took the money and stuffed it in one of his pockets, and then took the book from Richie as they got in the truck. His hands were shaking and he felt as if he was about to puke or pass out. Stan and him...they were close, almost as close as brothers, and if Richie had to make a list of his favorite people, the Jew would be directly under Eddie, maybe tied with Beverly.

Stan was someone Richie could have serious conversations with when he was tired of being the annoying and funny guy. For years, it’s been like this. Despite how often Stan says, “I hate you, Richie,” it wasn’t true in the slightest, and sure he got annoyed more often than not, but they were still as thick as thieves. Which was why Richie was a jittery mess. Stan didn’t have to say a word. Richie knew Stan knew; he didn’t know how, but he did, and that terrified the dark haired boy to no end. Because out of all the things that could make Stan hate Richie for real, it’s the fact he likes boys.

“Rich, pull over, you’re already going twenty over the speed limit, and I don’t want you to crash while we talk,” Stan said.

Richie nodded for a third time. “Y-Yeah. Um, g-good idea, Stan.”

Stan smirked. “Leave the stuttering to Bill.”

Richie cracked a smile but it went away as fast as it came, and then put the truck in park. He didn’t move, though. He stayed facing forward and his hands gripped the wheel tightly. “How long have you known?” Richie asked.

“That you love Eddie? I dunno... A while,” Stan admitted. “I don’t think the others know-.”

“Bev does.”

“Okay. I don’t think the boys know,” Stan corrected. “I’m just observant. Plus, we’ve grown up together, Richie. If I had to pick a specific moment, it would be sometime in sophomore year. We all went to the arcade one weekend. Eddie got absolutely pissed at one of the employees and screamed at him. We almost got kicked out! But the entire time you looked...fond. Proud, even. We almost got kicked out of your favorite place in the world but you didn’t care because it was Eddie. That’s love. You would’ve reacted differently it had been anyone else.”

Richie half-smiled. He remembered that day. “So... You don’t hate me? Find me disgusting?” Slowly, he looked to his friend.

Stan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I find you disgusting because you’ve worn that shirt for the third day in a row. Not because you like boys.”

Relief flooded through Richie.

Then, “How long have you loved him, anyway?”

“Since we were twelve.”

“We’re seventeen.”

“Yup.”

“That’s five years!”

“Yep.”

“Holy shit.”

Richie sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. “Yeah...” He paused. “I thought it was nothing, honestly, at first. Then we almost died, and then the feeling never went away and...here we are. I want to tell him, but not now, but I can’t hold it in much longer either, so that’s where the Russian comes in.”

Stan nodded, motioned for Richie to start driving again, and thought for a moment. “Lucky for you that’s the one phrase I do know in Russian.”

A grin formed on Richie’s lips as he drove. “Perfect.”

He didn’t learn the phrase within one day like he wanted. Stan decided to make Richie learn the entire alphabet for the Russian language first, a few basic words, and then he would teach Richie the phrase. It took a few days to do the first part, and then another couple for the next. By the time the next weekend rolled around, Richie had the entire alphabet memorized and could say hello, bye, fuck, and I love you in Russian all thanks to Stan. Richie didn’t have the guts to say it that weekend, but waited until Monday when he had to drive Eddie to school that morning.

“Hey, Eds?” Richie spoke halfway through the drive.

Half-asleep Eddie hummed. “Yeah, Rich?”

“Я люблю тебя.”

Silence. Then, “I have no idea what the fuck you just said,” Eddie paused as he yawned. “But that’s pretty cool, Rich. Ya lebyuh te-blah blah to you too.”

“You totally just butchered that.”

“Fuck off.”

v.

The Losers Club were officially high school graduates. Mike actually graduated earlier than everyone since he was homeschooled, but now that didn’t matter. The summer of freedom started out fine, perfect even. They had more fun than any of them could imagine, and none of them wanted it to end. Unfortunately, college was a thing for most everyone involved, and soon the Losers would be leaving Derry to tackle their adult lives. Soon -- meaning one more night. The summer flew by faster than any of them believed. It was as if one moment they were taking a picture with their caps and gowns on, and the next they were about to leave their small town and best friends. 

It was why they were getting together one last time the night before they left. Drinks were involved. The sucky radio Ben always had to fix was playing some song. The stars were out. The only thing lighting up the barrens were a few flashlights they laid out around them. Richie sat on a rock by the shallow lake, back facing it as his eyes were glued to Eddie. A beer was held in one hand and the other had a half burnt cigarette. It had gone out a while ago, Richie too stuck in place to relight it.

Eddie had a cup of something alcoholic in his hand, his fourth one of the night, and he was shout-singing along to the song that was playing with Ben and Mike, dancing too. He was happy and carefree and glowing under the lights of the flashlights and stars, and with each passing moment Richie could feel his heart just swell with love as he watched the other boy. Richie took another swig of the beer and smiled as Eddie and Ben clung to one another as they dramatically sang the next lyrics, putting Mike into a laughing fit.

“You gotta tell him,” Bev said as she walked up. She sat beside Richie and took the cigarette, relighting it. After, she offered it back but Richie declined. “Rich, sweetie... You have to.”

Richie motioned towards Eddie, still smiling albeit it was a sad one now, and turned to face Beverly. “Look at him,” he said, and she did. “He’s having the best time of his life over there! I can’t ruin that.”

Bev gave him a sad look. “You won’t.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s been fine the way it is-.”

“He kissed a girl as a dare four months ago, and you sobbed in your pillow for the rest of the weekend.”

“I was being overly dramatic. You know how I am! Besides, I still got his mom, don’t I?” It was a lame attempt at a joke. A failed one, too. Because Bev neither laughed or reprimanded him. He sighed and took the last gulp of beer. 

“You have to tell him,” she repeated. “We’re going to be busy because of college, and we’re not exactly going to the same one.”

Richie pursed his lips. He could feel a lump forming in his throat. “We made plans to meet up every weekend if we can. Our universities aren’t too far away.”

“Rich-.”

“Bev,” he interrupted her, pleading, “Just stop. Okay? I’ll tell him when I want to.”

She looked at her best friend, studied him. Then, she nodded solemnly. “Alright,” she whispered.

The next few minutes were spent with the two sitting on the rock as Beverly finished the cigarette. Neither spoke after that and it wasn’t until Bill ran up to drag them tot he others when they left their spot. Richie grabbed another beer after throwing the empty bottle into the trash bag Stan brought for, well, trash. Richie made a few jokes of putting himself in it considering they call him Trashmouth, and Mike at picked him up and acted as if he was going to do just that.

“Put that fucker where he belongs!” Eddie shouted, grinning.

“At least put him in recycling,” Ben said.

“He doesn’t deserve to be recycled,” Stan teased.

All the while, Richie was laughing in Mike’s arms, a few drops of his beer getting on the both of them. Mike eventually set him down and put an arm around Richie’s shoulders. “Nah, I’d never throw out the Trashmouth,” Mike said. He smirked and backed away, feigning a look of disgust as he waved a hand around. “Only because you stink too much!”

Richie gave a sarcastic laugh. “I’m not the one who works on a farm!”

“Oh, he’s g-g-got you there,” Bill laughed.

“Which makes it worse,” Bev joined in.

“Trash the Trashmouth, okay, ha ha, very funny!”

“You started it, Rich,” Eddie reminded him with a slight slur as he walked up to him.

Richie rolled his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, I know.” Subconsciously he put an arm on Eddie’s shoulders, and then he looked down at him, a bit surprised to already find Eddie’s eyes on him. Richie’s eyes lowered to the shirt Eddie was wearing and lifted a brow, smiling knowingly, trying not to react to the arm resting against his back and the hand messing with his own shirt. “Love your shirt, Eds.”

“Of course you do. You gave it to me a few years ago, I’m actually surprised in genuinely fits me well.”

“A little oversized but you’re still cute, cute, cute!” Richie snaked his arm further around Eddie’s shoulders and neck, and pinched the other’s cheek. “But, may I remind you, I never gave it to you. You stole it.”

“...No, I don’t think I did.”

“You did.”

“Nope.”

“I literally watched you take it from my closet.”

“It was a dream.”

Richie scoffed. He gave in, “Alright, fine.”

Eddie grinned, proud of himself.

The next few moments they just stood there. Beverly’s words flooded Richie’s mind as he looked down at Eddie. For a solid minute, he had an inward battle with himself about what to do, but as Eddie laughed at something Stan said to Ben, the winner of that inner battle was clear. 

Richie tightened his grip around Eddie’s shoulders for a split second to get his attention. “Hey. Eds, can I tell you something?” Now or never, Tozier, he told himself, you can do it. You gotta. This has been six years in the making so just fucking do it.

“You know you can, Rich. C’mon, tell me.”

Now or never, you piece of shit.

“We’re going to be busy because of college.”

Я люблю тебя.

Muffled confession under water.

“I don’t think I could hate you even if I tried.”

“Eddie, I-.”

“Guys!” Mike shouted in excitement and turned up the volume. “Listen!” A familiar tune met Richie’s ears. It was the song all of them loved to jam out to, one they vowed to never not dance along to no matter where they were. Eddie was quick to leave Richie’s side to join the others, not hearing the last part of what Richie had to say.

“-love you.” Shit.

+ i.

Richie could cry- no. No, he was crying. Tears steadily streamed down his face, mixing with the dirt and mud and blood from the final fight with It. They should be celebrating. They should be happy. They should be basking in the glory of finally having that piece of shit defeated after 27 years. But that wasn’t the case. Eddie got stabbed and it didn’t look good at all. Richie rid himself of his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Eddie’s eyes were shutting, head lulling.

“No, no nonono,” Richie muttered through some tears. He patted Eddie’s face to stir him awake enough to open his eyes; a sound left Eddie’s throat and Richie didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing as Eddie shut his eyes again. “Not you. C’mon, please not you, I can’t lose you. You’re too important to me. Eds. Eds! Eddie, hey, stay awake for me, alright? I can’t lose you- I can’t- fuck, I love you so much, please, I’m so in love with you. Don’t die on me, please.”

“Richie,” Beverly spoke from her spot, equally as dirty as the rest of them. “Sweetie, I don’t think...” She trailed off, unable to finish her own sentence.

Ben moved forward quickly. He bent down and watched Eddie closely for a second. “He’s still breathing,” he whispered. Frantically, he started pulling off his belt.

“Guys, the house is falling apart!” Mike shouted at them.

“He’s still breathing!” Ben shouted back. 

He gently pushed Richie away to put the belt around Eddie, securing Richie’s jacket tightly over the wound. Mike was then walking over, and so was Bill. The sounds of the house falling down filled their ears as they picked Eddie up. Richie had his shoulders, Ben stayed by his abdomen to make sure the belt stayed, and Mike had his feet. Bill made sure they didn’t need any help before looking to their redheaded woman.

“Bev, go ahead and go! Make sure Stan knows we’re coming back and tell him about Eddie!” Bill yelled.

Beverly nodded and ran off, and Bill led the rest of them through everything. It was hard and more than a few times did they think they were about to be crushed by everything, but they made it out just in time. They didn’t stop there. They carried Eddie to Richie’s very new truck and set him in the bed of it, Stan in the driver’s seat, the engine already running. Beverly was in the passenger’s seat, and Bill and Ben got in the back while Richie and Mike stayed with Eddie. To everyone’s surprise, Stan sped down the Derry roads as fast as he could but also as safely as he could. 

“Rich...” Eddie croaked out.

Richie bent down further and smiled through the tears, hand clutching Eddie’s. He did his best to ignore much he looked like death. “We’re getting you to a hospital,” he said. “Hang on, okay?”

“I gotta...’ell y’somethin’.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “You keep those fucking words in you mouth, Eddie. Tell me when you aren’t bleeding from a stab wound.”

“He’s losing a lot of blood, man,” Mike whispered, as if trying to say something.

Richie looked at Mike, glaring, and blinked back more tears that wanted to fall.

“Rich, I...” Eddie trailed off. Then, the grip on Richie’s hand weakened and Eddie’s eyes shut completely as his head lulled to the side for a second time.

“No. Shit. Fuck, Stan!”

“His pulse is weak-.”

“Mike, I love you, but shut the fuck!”

Mike, instead of arguing, nodded and hit the back window of the truck. Bill opened it. “Hurry up!”

“I’m already speeding!” Stan shouted from the inside.

“Speed faster!” Bev yelled. He did.

“Two more miles!” Ben told them.

“I just called, there’ll be someone waiting for us,” Bill said.

One minute later, Richie’s truck was zooming into the parking lot of the hospital and coming to a surprisingly steady halt by the entrance to the emergency room. Doctors and paramedics came rushing out instantly, taking Eddie away, the losers following them inside as far as they would let them. Richie stood at the double doors and stared through the window. He sucked in a deep breath. Then, he found the nearest trashcan and puked.

It seemed as if the next couple of hours went by slowly on purpose, taunting Richie and the others. During those hours, Richie scrubbed Eddie’s blood off of hands while sobbing in the men’s bathroom, and when he came back out to the waiting room he got tackled in a group hug which just caused him to cry some more. Stan shed a few tears and Ben wiped away a few that slipped out. Mike and Bill were refusing to cry just yet, while Beverly started to but stopped, telling herself and the boys that Eddie was still alive. The amount of tears increased when the doctor came in and told them that Eddie miraculously made it, but he wasn’t awake just yet.

They visited Eddie as much as they could. Someone was always in the room at all times, waiting for their favorite fireball to wake up. Richie stayed there the most. He only left to clean up and change clothes. He didn’t want Eddie out of his sight too much, not after what happened.

It was the morning of the second day when Eddie finally woke up.

“Wake up, fuckface,” Eddie said at noticing Richie, the man sleeping in a chair beside the bed, head using Eddie’s legs as a pillow.

Richie sat up almost instantly. His eyes were wide with joy at first until he realized he had no glasses on, and suddenly he was squinting to see Eddie better. He fumbled around for his glasses and slipped them on once he found them, and his smile grew ten times at seeing the other man clearly. “Eddie!” He exclaimed happily, and koala-ed him the best he could without causing any more harm or pain. He was laughing, then he was crying. “Shit, I thought I’d lost you.”

Eddie placed a comforting hand in Richie’s hair, and he closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on Richie’s head. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m okay now, though... Hey, Rich?”

“Hm?”

“Я люблю тебя.”

Richie froze. He slowly moved away and sat back in the chair, staring at Eddie with pure shock. “What did you say?”

Eddie smiled. “I think you know.”

Richie blinked. He was stunned. He ran a hand through his hair and slumped back. “I thought you didn’t know what that meant?”

“I didn’t. But, uh, that’s the first thing I remembered when I got back here. I asked Siri what it meant.”

With lowered brows, Richie’s jaw dropped. “Siri told you that I loved you before I fucking got to properly? What the fuck!?”

Eddie busted out laughing, holding his side with the stitches. “Oh- fuck, this priceless!”

“I’m killing Siri.”

“Aw, no, babe! Don’t, she helps me with driving,” Eddie said, nearly pouting.

Richie snorted, almost completely missing the term of endearment. “I’ve been in love you since we were fucking twelve, and a piece of shit technology tells you before I get the chance. Unbelievable!”

“I mean... You could tell me now.”

“Tell you what- oh. Oh.” He scooted closer to the bed and leaned forward. For a moment, he thought about making a joke about his mother, but decided against it, even though it would have been hilarious. He smiled, taking one of Eddie’s hands. Nerves coursed through him, but he fought against them. He wasn’t a terrified teenager anymore. “Eddie -- my Eds Spagheds -- I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

Eddie beamed at him. “I love you, too.”

If Richie’s grin could grow anymore, it would. And maybe it did.

Because in front of him was the love of his life alive, saying he loved him back.

Richie then leaned all the way forward and kissed Eddie, and Eddie kissed back. Bill barged in then, ready to announce that breakfast had arrived, but stopped himself at seeing Richie and Eddie. He froze, stared, and then backed up, smiling slowly as he shut the door. He turned to the other losers, who looked confused. 

“Well,” Bill said. “It took a little over two fucking decades but they’re finally together.”

[sailorsei]

Snowed In

Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k (OOPS LOL)

Summary: On their way to visit the Byers, the party is forced to stay the night at a run down motel during a snow storm. Will they freeze in the night, or will Reader and Steve find a way to keep warm? ;)

Warnings: smut ahoy! 18+ only pls. Reader is Dustin’s older sister!

Authors Note: This is my first time writing for the stranger things fandom so pls be kind <3 enjoy!

Snow flurries poured from the sky as you drove on the highway. You had been driving for about 2 hours now and we’re getting pretty uncomfortable having sat in the same position. Steve sat next to you, looking out the window at the snow that had already gathered on the trees and ground. Dustin quietly snored from the back seat.

It had been a few months since the Byers had moved a few hours north of Hawkins. Everyone missed them so much, so when you had concocted this plan to surprise them a week before Christmas with the gang in tow. You drove your brother Dustin and your friend Steve in your mom’s station wagon, while Nancy had taken her families car. Nancy took Mike, Lucas, and Max.

The Wheelers trailed behind you as you made your way through a small town. The snow started to come down harder as you passed through.

“Maybe we should stop for the night? The snow is supposed to get worse during the night and once we’re out of this town, there isn’t another one for a while.” Steve said, rubbing his face to gain some warmth. You were pretty sure the heat stopped working an hour into the journey.

“Its fine, Steve! We’ll make it to the Byers’ house just fine, I’m a safe driver—“ Just then, as if fate wanted to humble you, your car hit a patch of ice and sent it spinning. You and Steve yelled as Dustin snored away, spinning in circles until hitting the curb, popping your front passenger tire.

You had grabbed Steve’s hand at some point during your spiral. Letting go, you climbed out of the car to check the damage. The front tire was popped, and the metal part of the wheel was scraped, but other than that, you got real lucky. With a new tire, you knew your mom wouldn’t even notice. But that still left you to the present situation.

The Wheeler mobile pulled over behind your car and everyone got out.

“Oh my god, are you guys alright?!” Nancy asked, rushing over to you. Nancy and you were close, since your brothers were best friends. She came up beside you and knelt down to look at the damage.

“Too bad Johnathan isn’t here, he might be able to fix it...” She trailed off, standing and wrapping her arms around herself. Steve nodded and then began to look around. The snow was starting to make it hard to even see a few yards ahead. Steve saw a light up sign down the block that read “Vacancy” and turned to you guys.

“Why don’t we just stay the night at that motel down the street until morning? We all can’t cram into Nancy’s car. Plus we can’t just leave your moms car here.” Steve rubbed his hands together and tucked them under his arms.

“I don’t think we have enough money for that...” You trailed off, a gust of snowy wind chilling you.

“I took my parents credit card. Not that they would notice.” Steve pulled it out of his pocket. You and Nancy looked at each other and then at him and shrugged, moving towards your car. You woke up Dustin and then proceeded to grab your things.

The walk to the motel was long and cold, even for it being just a block up the road. The vacancy sign flickered, giving the parking lot a dull, red glow. Snow weighed down the roof, icicles forming off of the gutters.

The little lobby housed a middle aged man reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. He didn’t even look up when you and the gang entered. You cleared your throat and he finally pulled his gaze away from the tabloid.

“What do you want?” He asked, clearly irritated.

“Uh, we’re looking to get some rooms. My mom’s car broke down you see and—“

“We don’t rent rooms to kids.” He grumbled, turning a page.

“I’m 19.” You replied, crossing your arms. He sighed, exasperated, and pulled out a binder that listed the available rooms.

“How many rooms do you want?”

“We need two.” Dustin chimed in. You look at him, raising your eyebrows.

“You got money for a second?” You turn to him. Dustin goes to retort when Steve rests his hand on your lower back to get your attention. It works, as you look at him, trying to hide a blush.

“It’s fine. I got it,” he says as he turns to the old man. “Two rooms.” He hands the card over to the man. The old man looks at him and then the card.

“Folks know you got their card, kid?”

“Of course they do. Do I look like someone who would take my parents card without their knowledge?” Steve says, clearly sarcastic. The old man huffs, but goes ahead and runs the card, handing it back to Steve. Steve lets his breath go and smiles at you.

The old man shuffles over to a back room, returning with 2 keys.

“You got rooms 1 and 2. Don’t lose the keys.” He period the keys on the front desk and goes back to his tabloid. You grab the keys and you walk to the rooms.

The cold chills you once again as you walk to the far end of the motel towards your rooms. Steve walks beside you as Nancy talks with Mike about something. Dustin, Lucas, and Max quietly talk amongst themselves.

You arrive at your rooms. The door and window look as dingy as you expect, you hope the inside of the rooms are a little nicer.

“I think there should be a kid’s room and adult’s room.” Mike says. You shrug and look at Steve and Nancy.

“That seems fair. Any objections?” You ask. Steve and Nancy look slightly uncomfortable but shake their heads. You hand Mike a key and head off into the other room.

The door flies open from a gust of wind and snow blows in. There’s two double beds with a night stand in between. A couch is next to the front door along with a coffee table and a small box TV. A door next to the right bed leads to what you assume is the bathroom.

You shuffle in with Steve and Nancy and set your back pack by the edge of the left bed and flop onto the bed, taking in the feeling of not sitting in an uncomfortable car. You roll onto your back and sigh. Steve walks over to the other bed and sets his bag at the foot of the bed, before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door. Nancy puts her bag on the couch and walks over to you.

“So…” She says in a hushed tone. “Perhaps maybe I should bunk with the party tonight…” She smirks and giggles. You blush immensely, nervously laughing. You grab your bag and dig around to try to find something to change the conversation.

“I have NO idea what you’re talking about, Nancy.” You reply, trying to find a snack from your bag. Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Please! Like it isn’t obvious that you two clearly like each other.” Nancy crosses her arms. You throw your arms up in the air and get off the bed. You nervously pace around the room, pretending to be checking out the room. Nancy gets up too and grabs your shoulders to face her, and says your name.

“I’m so sick of looking at you two dancing around the subject! So, I’m just going to give you guys a nudge, okay?” She says. You nod sheepishly when you hear the bathroom door open. Steve walks out and then stops when he sees that Nancy has backed you into a wall, with her hands on your shoulders, and you looking positively flustered. You both look over, and Nancy immediately lets go of you and takes a step back.

“Did I interrupt something?” Steve asks.

“Nope! Nancy was just being weird.” You shot her a warning glare. Nancy smiles and shakes her head. Steve eyes you both.

“Alright…” Steve says, clearly not believing you.

He walks past you to sit on the couch and turns on the TV. The TV only has 3 channels and only one comes in, barely. It’s a shopping channel, but it has a slight fuzziness to it, probably because the antenna can only get so much signal through the snow storm.

You settle down on the couch next to Steve, but not close enough as Nancy would like.  She makes her way over to the couch and sits on the other side of you, forcing you to scoot closer to Steve. Your face gets incredibly hot as your thigh touches Steve’s. You intensely watch the lady parading around a diamond necklace on the TV, so you don’t have to look at Steve or Nancy. Your eyes begin to get heavy and your long drive catches up with you. You close your eyes and doze off.

~

You wake up to very light snores. You scrunch your eyes a little bit and open them. Your head is in the crook of Steve’s neck, his head leaned against yours. You freeze for a moment, silently screaming at your predicament. You look to your left to see if Nancy is still next to you. She’s over by the nightstand, she’s talking in whispers on the phone. You can’t even hear what she’s saying. Your head slightly moving makes Steve stir, lifting his head a little bit. You feel his body tense, you assume it’s because of you using him as a pillow.

You fake wake up and sit up straight, yawning, pretending to not even notice you two were kinda snuggling.

“Who are you talking to, Nancy?” You ask, rubbing your face. Nancy looks up and holds a finger up to you. You roll your eyes and look at Steve. He shrugs. You look down to see that you’re still pressed up against Steve. You shoot up from your seat, startling Steve.

“Sorry! Just need to use the bathroom.” You give him a weak laugh and head towards the bathroom. You place your hands on the sink and let out a sigh. How were you supposed to get through the night with Steve being so cute, and Nancy trying to play match maker? You shake your head and turn on the water.

Splashing your face, you look in the mirror.  You look tired, you look stressed, and if Nancy were in here right now, she would say you look like you need to get laid.

You finish up in the bathroom and walk back out to see Nancy with her bag over her shoulder, you look at her confused.

“Oh uh, the party is feeling a little spooked so I’m going to hang out in their room for a little while until they get to sleep.” She said opening the door, snow blowing into the room. She quickly waved and then exited. Steve looks from the door to you. You nod your head and give him smile before heading over to your chosen bed and grabbing your bag. You search it for your pajamas.

Steve gets up and looks out the window next to the front door.

“We were only asleep for like an hour and it’s already snowed almost a foot.” Steve motions for you to come look. You hold your pajamas to your chest as you walk over and peek out. Steve was right. The snow, still coming down hard, covered every surface you could see. You couldn’t even see the street from your room now. You shivered just thinking about exiting the somewhat warm room.

“Hopefully the party falls asleep soon, or else Nancy is going to have to stay in their room. She’s going to get snowed in.” You say. Steve just nods. You turn, and head back into the bathroom to change.

You slip into your pajamas and grab the door knob when you hear a loud explosion, you open the door and peek out, Steve looking just as confused, when the lights and TV go out. You hear one of the boys yell from their room.

“Fuck, the powers out. I can’t see a goddamn thing!” You fondle the wall until you feel Steve’s bed, and then using that, you sit down onto your bed.

“Hopefully it comes back on soon, no power, no heat.” Steve says from the couch. Your heart sinks. Sure the beds had a decent comforter on them, but you started to worry about your brother and his friends.

“Should we check on the others?” You ask.

“No, they’re old enough to know it’ll be fine. Plus, Nancy is in there.” Steve replies. You nod, even though he can’t see you. You rub your arms and decide to get under the covers, searching for some more warm.

“You’re already going to bed?” You hear Steve ask, he gets up from the couch and slowly makes his way over to his bed, hitting his leg on the frame, causing to cuss.

“No, I’m just trying to get warm is all. I only have that one sweater I was wearing earlier so…” You snuggle in and pull the covers over you. Steve does the same and faces you, not that you could tell.

You fall into a comfortable silence. The room is silent, the snow insulating the sound from the outside world. You stare up at the ceiling and feel yourself getting colder and colder by the second. You shift uncomfortably and pull more of the blanket over you.

“Cold?” Steve asks. You softly reply. “Yeah I’m starting to get cold too. These blankets are like paper thin.” You hear him try to rub his arms and warm his hands. That’s when the thought crosses your mind. Would you and Steve have to share a bed? It was below 20 degrees outside, it would be very stupid to just try to settle for just the blanket for warmth. It was as if Steve read your mind when he cleared his throat.

“Hey, you can say no if you want, but we’re both pretty cold. Want to just set aside the weirdness and share a bed, for like warmth, and stuff?” Steve asks, you can hear the anxiety in his voice. Your stomach does flips and you find yourself having to force your mouth to speak.

“S-sure! Don’t want to turn into a popsicle in the middle of the night.” You sheepishly say. You remove yourself from the bed and step over to Steve’s bed. He scoots over and you slip inside. Just the conversation between you two has increased your body temperature by a million degrees. Steve covers you with the covers and scoots just a tad closer to you, unsure of himself. You scoot closer too. You both lay on your sides, facing each other.

“Much better.” He says, a smile in his voice. You nod and rest your hand against the pillow. Steve shifts and rests his hand against the same pillow, slightly touching yours before pulling away quickly.

“Sorry, didn’t know your hand was there.” He apologizes.

“Its fine, if you want to put your hand there, go for it.” You say. Steve hesitates and rests his hand against yours. Your stomach is filled with so many butterflies, you feel borderline sick. You stay like that for a while when you feel Steve’s hand scoot closer to yours. You feel a small burst of confidence and take the situation into your hands.

“I’m still a little cold, would it be ok if we like snuggled a little bit more or spooned or something? If not that’s ok! I can always get the other blanket from the other bed…” You asked softly. Steve didn’t reply but he did scoot closer, pressing you into his chest. You blushed profusely as he wrapped his arm around you. You snuggled into his chest and he rested his chin on your head. He smelled like clean laundry and his hairspray.

You smiled to yourself, not believing that this was happening. Steve cleared his throat so you looked up at him, thinking he was going to say something. He had moved his head at the same time as you, causing your lips to ghost over each other. You both froze in place, trying to figure how to proceed. This time it was Steve’s turn to have a burst of confidence.

Steve softly pressed his lips to yours, melting into you. You kiss him back, placing a hand on his cheek. He pulls away for a moment, hoping you pull him back, which you do. This time the kiss is more desperate.  He holds your waist, and draws you even closer to him. You open your mouth just slightly and Steve nibbles on your lower lip, eliciting a moan from you. This awakens something in Steve and he kisses your jaw, and works his way down to your neck.

You entangle each other’s legs and you card your hands through his hair. Steve leaves love marks all around your neck and down to your collar bone. His hand snakes its way under your shirt and he strokes your ribs with his hand, getting dangerously close to your chest. You moan again at the thought of him grabbing and playing with your boobs, and Steve seems to read your mind again.

He lightly glosses over your boob at first, causing you to press your chest into his hand. He smirks and goes ahead and runs his thumb over your nipple. You grip his hip this time, clutching at his shirt. Steve brings his lips back up to yours, which you greedily receive.

You can feel his hard on pressing against your thigh. You take your knee and rub against him softly, but firm, hoping to give him some kind of relief. Steve grunts and kisses you deeper, his tongue exploring your mouth now. His hand retracts from your shirt and moves down to your pajama pants tracing the hem. You move your hips forward to let him know you’re game, and he goes for it.

He slowly moves his hand into your panties, drawing it out, making you frustrated from lack of friction. His hand finally makes its way to your slit and he dips one finger in, getting some of your slick, and then begins to massage your clit. You cry out, not remembering the last time you were touched like this. Steve kisses your neck and he switches from massaging your clit and finger fucking you.

You moan and groan into Steve’s shoulder, gripping his upper arm to keep yourself grounded.

“You sound so beautiful right now…” Steve whispers. You kiss his shoulder, mumbling something against him. You feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breathing picking up. Steve focuses on your clit and you come undone, you gasp and moan into his shoulder.

He finger fucks you until you come down from your high, you lay back in a daze, completely forgetting about the power being out and the snow outside. Steve pulls his hand out of your pants and brings your face into a kiss and pulls away.

“Listen if you don’t want to do anymore, that’s completely—“ You bring him back into a kiss and bring your hand down to the front of his pants, his hips pressing into your hand. He gasps when you dip your hand into his pants and grips his dick. You give it a few pumps when you try to pull down his pants to give you more room to work with. Steve immediately knows what you want and scrambles to pull down his pants past his thighs. His dick springs out and you grab it again, and begin to let him fuck up into your hand. He groans into your mouth as he thrusts his hips, bed creaking underneath your movements.

“Did…did you want to do more or should I—“ Steve asked out of breath, before you interrupted him.

“Yes, please!” You pleaded. Steve whispered “Oh God” under his breath and went to remove the remainder of his pants as you did the same. You brought his lips back to yours as he climbed on top of you. You made out for a little bit before he gave himself a few more strokes and rubbed this tip up and down your slit, eliciting the sluttiest moan from your mouth.

He slowly pushed in, both of you at a loss of words. He rested his head into the crook of your neck and rested his hips flush against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and urged him to start moving. Steve brought his head up and kissed you, pulling out and then slamming back in. You threw your head back all the way in a silent scream of pleasure.

Steve rested an elbow on one side to keep himself up, while his other hand stroked your face and ran his fingers through your hair. The bed frame creaked more, bed frame hitting the wall over and over again. You, for a moment, thought about if Nancy and the others could hear you, but then Steve began to hit you in all the right places and your cares went right out the window.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” Steve whispered into your ear, hand gripping your hip now.

“Me too...” You replied. Steve began to draw out his thrusts and then slamming into you. You could feel yourself getting to the edge again. You tilted your hips up more so Steve could hit you deeper. Steve nibbled on your shoulder and used his free hand to help lift your hips higher.

Your breathing started to get more labored and Steve brought his mouth to yours again, mostly to keep you quiet as to not wake up the room next to you. You came as he kissed you, still as loud as ever. Your walls clenching around his dick sent Steve over the edge as well. His head fell into the crook of your neck, grunting into you. You felt his coat your walls with his cum.

He rode out his high for a few more thrusts when he finally came to a stop. You both breathed heavily for a moment before he slowly pulled out and laid beside you, pulling you close. You snuggled into his chest and squeezed him. He squeezed back. You both drifted off to sleep.

~

The next morning, you woke up, snuggled to Steve’s side as he snored on his back. You lifted your head and kissed his nose, causing him to stir. He opened his eyes and smiled, pulling you into a tight hug.

“What time is it?” he asked. You sat up and looked at the clock. The power was still out.

“I’m not sure. Power is still out.” You sat up and stretched. You figured you should get dressed before Nancy came to check on you guys. You gave Steve another kiss and got up to go to the bathroom. You knew the water would be cold so you had to skip the shower.

After you had freshened up, you walked back out to the room to see Nancy had made her way over to your room. She was talking to Steve when she looked at you.

“Oh, hey, Nancy. Sorry you had to sleep in the kid’s room. We left the door open for you, you know?” You said as you were putting your pajamas away in your bag. Nancy waved you off.

“Oh, it was no biggy. Max and I shared a bed so it was fine. I can’t believe the power went out and is still out.” She said. Steve packed his things as you two talked.

“So, I suppose we should suit up and see if we can find a mechanic around?” You asked. Nancy nodded.

“Oh, yes, we should. I completely forgot about your car.” Nancy frowned.

“I’ll go let the party know we’re leaving to find one.” Nancy walked to the door and turned back to you two, a smirk on her face. You both looked at her confused.

“Also, next time, try to be quieter. I had to explain to Dustin that Steve wasn’t hurting you and I don’t think he’s going to look at either of you the same ever again.” Nancy laughed at both of your mortified faces and shut the door.