#but i think an eddie's kitchen first kiss makes complete sense and is probably quite likely

[buddieism]

i'm not particularly committed to the buddie first kiss being in a kitchen — but if it is, the obvious answer is that it's gotta be eddie's.

buck's kitchen gets a lot of buddie airtime, but those scenes are typically lighthearted — cosy, familial, warm. buck cooks for eddie in his kitchen, he helps christopher with his homework in his kitchen, he flirts with eddie in his kitchen, he comes out to eddie in his kitchen.

in comparison, eddie's kitchen has always been a place of raw honesty; a place for the serious, darker conversations. eddie talks about the shooting to buck in his kitchen, he tells buck he needs to move on in his kitchen, he asks buck about the lightning strike in his kitchen, he opens up about his relationship with kim to buck in his kitchen.

buddie's first kiss being in eddie's kitchen because it's the place where eddie is most vulnerable, especially when it comes to buck. because it's the place where buck feels the most comfortable, where he's "never a guest." something something love is stored in the kitchen...

[wtfsteveharrington]

don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie

content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 

mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**

she/her pronouns used for reader!

author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3

word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!

If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 

In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 

He’s protective, that’s all. 

The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 

“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”

It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 

The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 

you drive me crazy when you start to tease

You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.

you could bring the devil to his knees

Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -

“Holy shit.”

No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 

You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”

The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 

He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.

You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”

The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 

feel my heat takin' you higher. 

burn with me, heaven's on fire. 

paint the sky with desire.

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 

He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 

It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.

Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 

Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”

Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 

You’re coughing. 

Like, way more than normal. 

Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 

“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 

Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 

When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 

It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..

Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?

You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 

“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 

Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 

“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 

“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.

He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 

You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.

The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 

Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.

Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.

He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.

Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.

“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”

Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.

“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.

“Huh.”

It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”

Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.

“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”

You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.

Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.

“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”

You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 

“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”

Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.

“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.

You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 

“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 

His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 

“Then kiss me.”

Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.

He’s not though. 

Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 

Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 

Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.

The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 

Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 

Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 

Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 

“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 

The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 

You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.

Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.

Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 

You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 

He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.

"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.

It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.

Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."

You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.

Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.

All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.

It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.

Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 

“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 

Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.

"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"

Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."

Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.

His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.

Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.

You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.

There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.

This is crazy.

Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.

It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.

He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.

Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."

Eddie's going to fucking combust.

Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."

And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.

Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.

Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"

He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."

Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”

The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."

Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.

Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.

Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.

You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 

There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 

You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 

Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 

Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 

Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 

“How does she feel, Munson?”

“Like fuckin’ heaven.”

Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.

He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.

To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.

He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.

Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.

“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”

You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.

Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.

And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 

You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.

Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.

He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.

You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.

"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.

He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.

“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”

Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”

Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.

You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.

Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.

“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”

Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.

And they’re both moaning.

Neither pulling away.

Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.

It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.

Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.

Right?

So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.

And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?

Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 

The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 

Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”

It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.

You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 

Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”

He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.

There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 

Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.

He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 

Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 

Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.

He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 

It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 

“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 

His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.

Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 

You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 

Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 

Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 

Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”

[some-little-infamy]

Accidents Don’t Just Happen Accidentally

Flufftober Day 15 - Accidents Don’t Just Happen Accidentally (Read on AO3)

Buck doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He isn’t meant to be at the station today, it’s his day off except he left food in the fridge that he fully intended on eating as leftovers today and it’s less inconvenient to swing by and pick it up than it would be to cook a new meal for himself at home.

So when Buck shows up at the station and makes his way up to the loft area that serves as a kitchen, he isn’t surprised to hear Eddie and Hen’s voices floating down the stairs. What does surprise him is when he hears his own name as the topic of conversation.

Alright, so maybe he isn’t completely surprised. He isn’t an idiot, he knows that people probably talk about him when he’s not around. It isn’t like he hasn’t talked about the others once and a while - usually with Eddie and Hen as well - so he can’t judge.

…but he can slow his steps, silencing his movement on the stairs to be able to hear what they’re saying about him better. He’s curious, sue him.

“Just tell him,” Hen says.

“Hah,” Eddie gives a wry laugh. “Sure. I’ll just walk up to Buck and go ‘hey, I think I’m falling in love with you. Hope this doesn’t make things weird.’ I’m sure it’ll go great.”

Buck’s heart feels like it jumps into his throat, unable to beat or allow air into his lungs all at once. Eddie’s what? No. No way. There isn’t a chance in hell that Eddie Diaz, the man that Buck is fully convinced is too good for him to ever like him back, actually likes him back.

No, not just likes - is falling in love with him.

“What do you have to lose?” Hen prompts.

“Him,” Eddie answers simply. “I can’t risk losing him when he doesn’t feel the same.”

Buck weighs his options. He could turn back now and pretend he didn’t hear any of this. He could bring it up later, casually, like it’s his idea. The idea that maybe, possibly, hopefully, the two of them could date.

But what if Eddie denies it? What if he doubles down on not wanting to risk their friendship to pursue something more?

Buck doesn’t know if he can live with that, so he takes a deep breath and takes the last of the stairs up to the loft.

“Uh… hey,” Buck says, with a sheepish expression and a little wave.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Eddie says immediately, paling at the sight of Buck.

“I came by to pick up something I left in the fridge,” Buck explains. “I didn’t mean to overhear, I just… Eddie, listen-”

“No. I don’t know what you heard or thought you heard but forget about it. That was an accident, and it never happened, alright? I should go. I have to-”

“Eddie, wait. Accidents don’t just happen accidentally,” Buck says, then pauses to frown when that doesn’t make any sense out loud the way it did in his head. “What I mean is that this one didn’t. I feel the same way, Eddie.”

Eddie stops mid-escape. “You do?”

Buck nods, smiling. “I do. I like you, Eddie. I have for a while, and if there’s any chance you like me back and we can give this a shot, I want to try.”

“You’re sure?” Eddie asks, but this time more hopeful than hesitant. Eddie takes a few steps closer to Buck, stopping just a foot away.

“Oh my god, quit being an idiot and kiss him,” Hen says. “I’ll look away if it helps.”

Hen makes a show of turning the other way and covering her eyes with her hands like a kid counting during hide and seek.

Buck rolls his eyes, but takes a step closer to Eddie, giving him a chance to step back or shake his head ‘no’ or give any indication that he doesn’t want to kiss him.

Instead, Eddie clears the rest of the way, and Buck has never been more grateful that his laziness brought him to the firehouse today as his lips meet Eddies for the first (of hopefully many) times.

[hexensalbei]

play with fire

find on ao3

This is going to be a fun ride.

The silence in the car is scary because itʼs uncomfortable and that has never been a problem before. Buck shoots a quick glance at his friend. Eddieʼs eyes are fixated on the road, his jaw so clenched, Buck swears, he can hear his teeth gritting. His hands are on the steering wheel but his grip is so tight, his knuckles are white. Yeah, heʼs definitely mad.

The problem is that Buck doesnʼt know why Eddie is so furious.

Fine.

Maybe he knows. But that doesnʼt mean he understands. Heʼs never seen Eddie that angry. He remembers vividly when Eddie snapped at him in the grocery store right after the lawsuit—but itʼs just a pale comparison to his rage now. It doesnʼt make sense—because Buck didnʼt do anything stupid like another lawsuit—he just... He just did his job.

He risked his life to save someone elseʼs but he does it almost on a daily basis; Eddie does the exact same thing and yet, Buck has never snapped at him. So why is it different now?

Because you almost died today says an annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his sister.

Because you almost died in Eddieʼs fucking arms.

Buck tries to ignore it; he has to ignore it because if he doesnʼt, heʼll drown in guilt and shame. And probably wake up some long forgotten demons.

He canʼt re-live it again and again.

When they stop, he realises, theyʼre in front of Eddieʼs house and heʼs genuinely surprised his friend brought him here.

“This isnʼt my apartment.” He blurts out. He knows itʼs probably the dumbest thing he couldʼve said but he doesnʼt understand why Eddie took him to his home if heʼs pissed off at him. Itʼd be definitely easier to cool off if the source of his anger wasnʼt there, right? 

“Like hell Iʼm letting you stay alone after the shit you did.”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice that makes Buck squirm. He sounds angry, sure, but also hurt, broken. Resigned. He sounds exactly like when Shannon died.

Buck knows that because he was there. He remembers how mad Eddie was at his wife for leaving him and Christopher again, this time for good.

Eventually, Eddie gets out of the car and goes to the house. Buck quietly follows his best friendʼs footsteps and he flinches when Eddie drops off his bag on the floor.

“You can take a shower if you want, Iʼll make up the bed.”

He knows Buck too well; he knows that Buck hates the specific smell of the hospital and always tries to get rid of it as soon as possible. Buckʼs really grateful for that also because he can simply postpone their argument, just for a little bit. Maybe shower will help him cool off because heʼs irritated too but he doesnʼt truly want to fight with Eddie. He goes to the bathroom, takes off his clothes and steps under the shower. He lets the cold water run down his body and he really tries to calm himself; there was enough drama today and yeah, he almost died so he deserves to have a moment of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks. Heʼs getting more and more cold and he knows he should get out before Eddie will storm inside and drag him out of the shower. Buck wouldnʼt be even surprised if his friend did something like this.

Then, with a long sigh, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He quickly rinses himself with a towel and slips into his most comfortable clothes. Whatʼs a little funny and maybe even ironic, his favorite grey, worn out t-shirt is actually Eddieʼs and it even smells like him.

Crap.

He really needs to finally leave the bathroom and face his friend but heʼs trying to delay the inevitable by thoroughly brushing his teeth. And then, he doesnʼt find anything else he can do so he goes back to the living room. Heʼs quite surprised that he doesnʼt see the pillows or blanket on the couch because he thought heʼs gonna sleep there and heʼs even more surprised he doesnʼt see Eddie there. He finds him in the kitchen instead, leaning against the counter and nursing his favourite beer. Thereʼs a glimpse of hope in Buckʼs chest that maybe Eddie cooled off a little, that maybe he realised he has exaggerated and his anger isnʼt completely justified. Heʼs wrong, though. Eddie is not even slightly less annoyed and it takes Buck one look at his best friend to realise that.

He sighs again because Eddieʼs anger starts to get on his nerves. He moves closer until he stands against Eddie and looks him in the eye.

“Do what you have to do, letʼs get this over with.” He says with a tiredness in his voice. The only thing he wants right now is sleep, he wants to fall asleep and forget about the whole world for a couple of hours. “If you want to yell at me then be my guest and do it. I donʼt even care.”

“Oh, so now youʼre annoyed at me? Really?” Eddie asks wryly and sets aside the bottle with a little too much force, it almost smashes. Neither of them care anyway. Theyʼre now standing against each other, so close they almost hear each otherʼs heartbeat and they fix each other with a glare. 

“Yeah, I am. You act like Iʼve done something wrong, like I wasnʼt supposed to do this and—” 

Heʼs cut off by Eddie who lets out a humourless laugh and answers in a higher voice than usual. 

“God, do you even listen to yourself? You went to that building all by yourself, you disobeyed Bobbyʼs specific orders to not go there because youʼre you and youʼre above all the orders, right? It doesnʼt matter if Bobby did it because he didnʼt want to risk one of us dying there. But you just couldnʼt listen.”

“Funny thatʼs coming out from the man who cut his rope and almost died in the well.” Buck interjects viciously because heʼs truly angered by now.

Something flashes in Eddieʼs eyes but Buck canʼt name it. He doesnʼt even have the time to think about it because his best friend doesnʼt back out.

“Itʼs not relevant now, weʼre talking about today and your stupid, reckless behaviour. What were you thinking? Or-Or maybe donʼt. You probably werenʼt thinking at all. Obviously. And it almost cost you a life! Your life! How can you be so reckless?!” Eddie shouts and the pain in his voice is very noticeable but Buck pretends to ignore it.

“Iʼm a firefighter. Itʼs kinda in a job description, donʼt you think? Sometimes I have to be a little reckless. Besides, I did save a life and I didnʼt die either, right? Otherwise I wouldnʼt be standing there and listen to you being all pissed.” Buck shrugs like itʼs nothing, like he really doesnʼt care about his life. Itʼs probably another thing he shouldnʼt have said because Eddie straightens up and now, thereʼs almost no space between. For the second Buck thinks Eddie will lash out and just hit him. He kinda wishes he did. But Eddie only sighs heavily and rakes through his hair with frustration. 

“God, youʼre driving me crazy, Buckley. Youʼre so dumb and stubborn and you donʼt even stop for a second to think about the consequences of your actions. You donʼt even care what would happen if you actually died, do you?”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice, something hard to catch and name that stops Buck from responding immediately. His words are ringing in his ears because they are annoyingly true. He didnʼt think about the consequences of his eventual death. He literally just stormed inside the building to find a man despite Bobbyʼs direct order to not go there because it was already too dangerous. He did it anyway, he managed to save a life but he didnʼt manage to get out in time and the whole building just collapsed. He doesnʼt remember much but he certainly remembers being held out by Eddie and his donʼt you dare die here, you dumbass. 

It mustʼve been scary, he admits, and he thinks he understands how Eddie mustʼve felt because he also saw his best friend almost dying. But the anger? He still doesnʼt get it.

“Iʼve had a few close calls during the years. Why is it so different now?” He finally asks.

“Because Iʼm in love with you, you asshole!” Eddie cries out. “And you just keep dying on me and I canʼt take it anymore!”

Buckʼs brain short-circuits. He mustʼve died after all, right? There is no real possibility Eddie just told heʼs in love with him. Thereʼs no possibility he may actually reciprocate his feelings. Thereʼs no way itʼs not just his hallucination or some kind of weird dream in his afterlife. But he desperately wants to be the truth, desperately needs validation for his thoughts. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he grabs Eddie by the collar of his Henley and crashes their lips together. His friend is definitely surprised, even shocked and for a moment, he does nothing. Buck already starts to panic because he thinks it’s real and he might’ve misheard everything or even projected it and just destroyed their friendship. But then, Eddie suddenly changes position and pushes Buck until he leans against the counter. And when he kisses him, all thoughts and doubts are completely gone from Buckʼs mind. The only things that matter are Eddieʼs lips on his, Eddieʼs hands on his body, Eddie utterly focused on him and that desperate need to fulfil their desire. Buck mightʼve kissed a lot of people in his life; he has had both awkward and amazing kisses but they cannot compete to make out with his best friend. It feels entirely different, maybe because Eddie loves him back. They break apart only for a couple of seconds to take a breath; Buck sits on the counter and brings Eddie closer by the belt. He canʼt take his eyes off him; Eddie looks wonderful with already swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He probably looks no better but he doesnʼt even care.

“I know youʼve probably already noticed but I love you too, asshole.” He says in a teasing voice, inches away from Eddieʼs lips.

“Well, I mightʼve suspected it when you kissed me but itʼs nice to actually hear it. But donʼt even think that you say you love me, bat your eyelashes and kiss me this way and I wonʼt be angry at you.” Eddie warns half-seriously.

“I can try.” Buck just smirks and kisses him again. This time, he also quickly unbuckles the belt Eddieʼs wearing and starts to lift his shirt. His friend doesnʼt even protest, he lets him do whatever he wants and thatʼs why his Henley ends up somewhere on the floor. Then, the blonde moves from his lips to his neck and slowly makes his way down, planting kisses on his chest. Itʼs crazy how quickly their anger turned into lust. Now, the tension between them is much better, more exciting, easy to resolve. 

Eddie lets out a loud moan when Buck—this sneaky bastard—grabs his ass and squeezes it.

“Youʼre a menace.” He hisses.

“Oh, you should wait with the sweet talk after Iʼm done with you, Diaz.” Buck grins and he doesnʼt stop with the teasing. He unzips Eddieʼs jeans painfully slowly and Eddie almost whines to hurry up. The younger man notices it and winks at him before he adds. “Although Iʼm not sure if youʼll be able to talk at all.” 

“So maybe quit talking, Evan, and show me your skills?” 

“As you wish, Edmundo.”

[half-bakedboy]

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rated: General Summary: “I’ve recently found myself with a lot of time on my hands and since you don’t seem to have enough to romance someone,” Buck began, settling his drink on the table, “I think it only makes sense for someone to romance you.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh and shot back, “Yeah, and how are you going to find someone willing to put in that effort?”

“Oh, you’re lookin’ at him.”

Or… Eddie gets the romance he deserves in the form of fluff-filled dates with Buck.

For @911fluffweek - day seven: Free choice // Love confession

(read the final chapter on ao3 or start from the beginning)

The morning had sucked, to put it frankly. Eddie woke up late, sleeping through his alarm for the first time in years, and when he had barged through Christopher’s door, his son was anything but compliant. He took his sweet time getting out of bed, refused to brush his teeth or hair, and changed his outfit too many times for Eddie to count. By the time Eddie had gotten him in the car, they were going to be late to school and he didn’t even have time to call them and let them know. 

He didn’t need the speech he got when he dropped Christopher off after the first bell and he didn’t need the sympathetic but still judgmental gazes of his team and his captain when he stepped into the station ten minutes after his shift started. He barely had time to eat the plain bagel he started toasting—his cinnamon raisin ones he kept at the station had gotten moldy since Buck had started making him breakfast more often than not—when the first bell of the day rang through the station. 

His turnout gear was too heavy on his already fatigued body and as he ran into the first fire of the day, the heat was almost too much to handle. He had to carry a man twice his size out of the burning building only to be chastised by Bobby for ignoring a direct order even if it was for the good of the victim. Even Hen was tired of his bad attitude by the time they got back to the station. 

“Oh, thank god,” she muttered as they both jumped out of the back of the firetruck, “maybe you can get the stick out of Eddie’s ass.” Eddie shot daggers at her, but his features softened considerably when the door slammed closed and he saw Buck standing in front of the open doors. 

“Hey,” he said, walking up slowly, his eyebrows furrowed, “did we have plans that I forgot about?” Buck shook his head and raised up a coffee from their favorite sandwich shop a few blocks down the road. 

“A little bird told me that you didn’t have the best morning,” Buck began, pausing to take in Eddie’s form. He was sweaty and covered in grime, the small bandage on his head standing out against his ashen skin. “They didn’t tell me that you were hurt. Are you okay?” Buck asked hurriedly, placing the coffee on the floor before cupping Eddie’s face in his hands. Eddie tried to keep him at arm’s length but Buck pushed forward anyway, inspecting the bandage as if he could see through the thick gauze. 

“I’m completely fine, Buck. Just a little house fire injury. It could’ve been way worse,” he added, which did absolutely nothing to ease the tension in Buck’s shoulders. 

“Chim, the next time you rat my boyfriend out, maybe mention that he has an injury?” Buck asked, causing Eddie to glare in Chim’s direction. He figured Chim was the tattletale but didn’t think Buck would call him out that easily. 

“There will be no next time, you a—”

“Language!” Bobby shouted before Chim could finish. He turned to Buck and Eddie, hands on his hips with his captain face on. “Eddie, you’re taking a long lunch, and before you argue,” he held up a hand when Eddie took a step forward, “it’s either send you to the doctors to get checked out or make you take a damn breather. You decide.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “Got it, Cap. Can I shower first?” He asked, gesturing down at himself. If he looked as gross as he felt, he’d need one before he could enjoy anything. 

Bobby nodded which was all Eddie needed to dismiss himself with a quick peck to Buck’s cheek and the promise that he’d be back soon. It was like the entirety of his horrible morning was washed off of his shoulders while he scrubbed himself down, but he was sure it wasn’t only the showers doing. 

Seeing Buck standing there was on the cusp of overwhelming. The second Eddie saw him, he wanted to be wrapped around him, covered in him, curled up inside of him so that he could make every frustration, annoyance, and sadness in him go away. Even the simple way Buck immediately inspected his injury, ignoring the way he probably felt and smelled after the high-intensity call, had Eddie’s stomach fluttering and the tension in his body turned to mush. 

Eddie dried and got dressed as quickly as he could because all he wanted to do was spend the time he was allotted with Buck. He needed to tell Buck exactly how he felt at that moment and Eddie wasn’t one to hold back, not with anyone, especially Buck. It was a miracle that he had waited that long to say the three words that meant everything to him, ones that he hadn’t said to anyone besides Christopher in what was probably a year. 

“I’ll have him back in an hour,” Buck shouted to the team as Eddie walked out, clean and happy. He sent everyone a wink Eddie didn’t quite understand before he grabbed the coffee from the floor with one hand and laced their fingers together with the other. 

“Where are we going? I thought we could just…” He gestured to the loft but Buck shook his head and led him to his jeep, opening the door as he had on their first date. 

“Don’t give me that look, Diaz. You act like I stopped being the perfect gentleman after all this time,” Buck accused, kissing Eddie’s cheek quickly before he shut the door. 

As he got into the driver’s seat, Eddie said slowly, “This feels like a weird trap.” Buck scoffed and grabbed Eddie’s hand from his lap, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss but saying nothing else. 

Eddie leaned his head back against the seat behind him because even if it was a trap, he trusted Buck. He had no doubt in his mind that Buck was doing something to get his mind off of the horrible morning he had and all it took was the knowledge that Eddie wasn’t in a good mood for him to drop everything. It was really that simple and Eddie couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Hey, Buck?” Eddie asked, keeping his head against the seat behind him but tilting it so he could look at Buck. 

Buck glanced over with a small smile and responded softly, “Yeah?” 

“I love you.” Eddie spoke quietly, barely above the low murmur of the radio Buck always had to have playing in the background, but he knew Buck heard him because he was pulling over to the side of the road almost the second the words were out. “What are you—”

“No!” Buck shouted and before Eddie could ask for an explanation, Buck was out of the car, slamming his door and stomping like a toddler over to Eddie’s side. 

The second the door opened, Eddie said, “Buck, I am so confused.” 

Buck continued to stay silent and grabbed Eddie’s hand, dragging him down the street. Eddie probably could have pulled him to a stop, but he was too busy trying to grasp onto the sliver of string holding his heart together, ready to snap any second if Buck didn’t love him back. He didn’t think that was possible. He had been so sure that Buck felt the same as he had shown it, proved it, on every occasion he could. Eddie wasn’t sure what he would do if—

“Oh,” Eddie whispered when they rounded a corner to a park they frequented with Christopher every so often. The picnic table they always sat at had a white, embroidered table cloth with plates that Eddie recognized from Buck’s kitchen set on top. There was a fake candle in the middle and the same bouquet of flowers Buck had gotten him on their first date settled beside it. 

“It’s been weeks since we had been able to have a moment alone together, Eds,” Buck said, grabbing both of Eddie’s hands in his own and taking a deep breath. He stared into Eddie’s eyes and as if he had memorized an entire speech, cleared his throat and began. “I’ve been trying to plan this big romantic gesture that would blow all of our other dates out of the damn water but every time I had something in place, there was always something else in the way.”

“You don’t need to—” Buck squeezed his hands and raised his eyebrows, a clear threat in his features that had Eddie snapping his mouth shut but still unable to hold back the grin on his lips. 

“As I was saying,” Buck enunciated pointedly as he pulled Eddie to the table and nudged him to sit, “there hasn’t been time for me to tell you how much you mean to me. I know we show it every time we’re together, but words? They mean a lot to me. I’ve never really been good with them. I stuttered as a kid and it was a constant struggle to get anyone to listen to me when I could finally speak my mind…” 

Buck trailed off and glanced away like he was suddenly embarrassed by the admission that had Eddie warming up from the inside out. Eddie angled his head to catch Buck’s eyes and rested a gentle hand on his cheek, nodding to urge him on. He wanted to make sure he heard what Buck had to say, that Buck knew he was there to listen to him even if no one else ever had been. Buck shook his head and let out a huff of disbelieving laughter before he spoke again. 

“The only words that have been swirling around my mind for the last few months have been about you. How lucky I was to have met you when I did, how fun it is to spend time with you, how immediately I fell in deep with both you and Christopher.” At the mention of his son, Eddie’s heart squeezed. Buck knew how much that would have meant to him. “Most importantly, how I’ve never quite loved anyone as much as I love you.” 

Eddie’s cheeks hurt from the wide smile that he couldn’t even try to erase from his face. His stomach bubbled over like champagne finally released from the confines of its bottle and his heart pounded that steady beat that he was sure matched in time with Buck’s. He loved him. Buck loved him and Eddie loved him right back. Nothing could ever be as perfect. 

“But then, you go and steal all of my thunder by blurting it out when I’m just existing,” Buck complained, clear exasperation in his voice that Eddie rolled his eyes at. 

“Our entire relationship doesn’t have to be a competition, Evan,” Eddie argued, standing so he could hold Buck’s face in his hands and brush their noses together. “I know it started that way, with you seeing me as some sort of challenge to pass the time on your hands,” Eddie said softly but was interrupted by Buck shaking his head rapidly. 

“Hey, that’s not—” Eddie chuckled and pressed a delicate kiss to Buck’s lips, smiling when Buck chased after his mouth like he needed more than that. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Buck, because you’ve spent the last few months being everything I tried to run away from and everything I’ve needed. These big romantic gestures from your makeshift handbook were incredible, but I don’t care about anything other than the fact that I really, really love you, okay?”  

Buck nodded and when they kissed, it was with barely contained smiles on their faces. It was awkward with too much teeth and laughter, but they were happy, they were in love. Every second spent with Buck, even when they were rushing around to get him back to the station, was a memory Eddie wanted to keep forever. 

Eddie was looking for an escape when he moved to L.A. He wasn’t trying to find a family or a home for himself, only focusing on the future he could provide for Christopher and caring little for his own. He was searching for an easy way out and hoped it was the right thing for both him and his son. 

Then he realized what’s easy is right and that began and ended with Buck. 

[beauregard-s]

Cherry Vodka [Part I] | Richie T. + Eddie K.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader x Eddie Kaspbrak (21+)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, nsfw material but no explicit sex (yet), alcohol, polyamory mention, kind of a modern au too

Anon said:  “ okay so based off that art you reblogged of the richie x bev x eddie, what about like a reader x richie x eddie fluffy smut based off that (i hope that makes sense bahahha)”

A/n: Yeah, I had to split it in two parts because 7k words... I’m sorry it took me so long to post it, dear anon, if you’re still outta there. I rewrote and changed the plot of this one three times and it’s inspired by this post and by the song Sleep Apnea by Beach Fossils, by the way.

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“Richie…” “What, doll?” You felt his hand trailing down the small of your back, slowly and treacherously. 

You rolled your eyes from your book to meet Richie’s little smirk. He had his black wayfarers on, even though the sun was down in the horizon now, and behind those you knew his eyes have been glazing all over you. He was all careless laying on his side right next to you on the towel, unruly wind-dried curly hair, head up resting on a hand, the other free one teasing you because he just couldn’t help it when you’d put on that black high-cut swimsuit of yours. Eddie shared the curly-haired boy thoughts but, on the other hand, he laid peacefully flat on his back by your right side. Arms resting under his head, eyes closed, but here and there he’d peek at your and Richie’s constant bickering. You, laying on your stomach in between them, were still in your swimsuit from earlier. After lunch, it was Richie’s idea to go to this lake nearby by his parents' vacation house. It was also Richie’s idea to spend spring break there. Usually, your break trips would include their other friends, who ended up being your friends too over time, but that was being a harsh semester for quite everyone. With Bill and Stan stuck with their academic duties, the best idea was to drive to the Tozier’s vacation house in a small town in Pennsylvania. It was a simple, untouched, two-floor house. Richie told in the car his parents bought it when he was a teenager so they could travel and spend some time there, but ended up not doing that as much as they intended on once it was too far from his city. “For fuck’s sake, Richie!” Laughing was not what you intended, but you did it and you heard Eddie giggling behind you. Richie’s hand had finally made its way to your hips now, while he leaned closer. “Come on, toots. Just one kiss…” He whispered in his best charming tone, but you pushed him away, playing cool although you felt your cheeks burning, the known hots already hitting you like a truck. “No! Fuck off… I already told you we should stop doing this,” you muttered. “You always say that,” it was Eddie who reasoned, and you turned for him, eyes threatening him with no words while he shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m sticking to it,” you retorted. Indeed. It had been over a month since you last… Did what you did. “Plus I think Stan has been suspicious…” Richie snorted, “yeah, like lil old he would give a single fuck about it, y/n.” You breathed out, closing the book because now your concentration was ruined. Richie, Eddie, and you met at the creative writing class, 8 am on Tuesdays, your first semester of college. You remembered as it was today how you found them “lost” less than 10 feet away from the lecture hall but arguing like an old couple without realizing that. You helped them find the right way, and Richie flirted with you as you walked into the class, while Eddie scoffed at him for making them get lost and almost late. You knew those boys had been friends their entire life, but from that moment on the three of you became inseparable. If someone needed to find one of you on the campus, the other two would probably be found at the same place. The pureness of your friendship didn’t last long. It only lasted until the first party you went to together, when you lost to Richie at a snooker game and he claimed a kiss as his prize, the smooth motherfucker he was. You kissed him and only that, but ten minutes later you were making out in the bathroom. You made him swear he wouldn’t make things complicated between you two and he had been keeping his promise ever since. Eddie was a whole out of the curve story though. After what happened at said party, you noticed how fidgety he got about the matter of you and Richie been together once, although he did a great job hiding it. Took a while for him to leave it alone, but you didn’t. Something pestering inside wouldn’t let you. You were at his dorm, studying for a complicated final exam while the sky fell apart in rain outside when you asked him why he got upset. He denied to his death he had jealousy of you and Richie running through his veins, but you knew he was lying when his eyes started to avoid yours, saying ‘Richie’s a better ladies' man, anyway’. You shoot your shot without really thinking about it, told him ‘he was just as desirable as Richie’ and it seemed to light a spark between you two. You were the one who leaned closer but he closed the gap, nervously, pulling you into his lap as soon as you kissed him back, building up his confidence. Just like when Richie and you had your thing, you felt no need to hide from him what happened between you and Eddie. It was an embarrassing talk, but it worked. The three of you quickly and naturally warmed up to the facts: you were friends with benefits with both of them and there was nothing complicated about that for you. But you wanted to keep it low because casually making out with your best friends regularly here and there over time whenever you all desired to was none of people business. Eddie rolled over to lay on his stomach, just like you were, shoulder to shoulder. After a couple days constantly under the sun, you noticed he had more freckles than usual over his nose and cheeks, a few on his shoulders. “You’re being more uptight about it all than me, and everyone knows that being more uptight than me is a big deal...” His self depreciative statement made you flash a half-smile, but didn't stop you from leering at his soft lips because you remembered how he tasted like mint whenever you’d kiss. And it had been a long time since you did for the last time. “I’m just being cautious, Spagheddie.” He smiled at the silly nickname, just when you freed yourself from Richie’s grip, grabbed your book and got up, leaving them on the grass while you walked towards the backdoor. “Where ya’ goin’?” Richie called, but you didn’t look back. “Taking a shower!” You shouted. ‘I fucking need to cool down,’ you thought to yourself. In your silly head, about a year ago, this whole situation was a great idea. Now you found yourself utterly screwed. There was pining going on since the very first beginning in between you and them. You always knew it was there, you just didn’t expect it to escalate like it did. You thought once you had tasted from Richie and Eddie, you’d be done. Checked them out of your possibilities, life goes on, but now you were bonded to them in a way you never intended on. You fell for them. For both of them. And that was making you act up. Since your high school years you understood you were an afraid-of-commitment kind of person. No big deal, no attachments, no pain, so you weren’t ready to fall for a single person alone. Falling for two at the same time made your brain short circuit. You had debated the matter with yourself multiple times before. Since you became aware of it happening, you weren’t able to choose between them, you didn’t even know someone was capable of splitting their feelings like that. Your only solution was to stop it somehow. You couldn’t just leave them completely, so you decided to break the colorful side of that mess of a friendship. It wasn’t easy because it was not just about physical bonds. They were everywhere around you. Eddie would buy you coffee on the test mornings he knew you were tired after studying the whole night and hand it to you kissing your forehead. Richie would always hold your hand, keep you close and protect you somehow, doing that thing where he’d distractedly run his thumb over your knuckles. You knew that maybe you were not just an arousal let-out for them too and that made things even worse. You ruminated the facts the whole time you were under the cold water upstairs, and when you came down later, all damp hair and sleep clothes, you found them both in the kitchen, struggling with dinner although it was just frozen lasagna for three. Beach Fossils played from Richie’s phone, open vodka bottle on the wood table in the middle of the small kitchen. Richie was the one who first noticed you there, smiling over his shoulder. “Gonna leave you watching Eds so he doesn’t implode the house while I take a shower, doll. Help the poor man.” he said, walking past by you and running upstairs. “You’re talking like you weren’t the one struggling to turn on the oven!” Eddie shouted at him. You laughed just like Richie did at distance, joining Eddie by the stove. “Do you want a hand there?” “Never mind,” he said, closing the oven door with a proud grin, “it will be ready in twenty, I guess.” “Talented boys you two are!” you scoffed. “Oh shut up!” He faked a disgusted face at you. Your eyes laid over the cherries you bought the day you arrived, placed in a fruit basket on the counter and, while Eddie sat down at the table you grabbed a glass, the vodka, and a handful of cherries. He didn’t ask you what you were doing, but your peripheral sight allowed you to know he was keeping full attention on you while you fumbled around. You mashed the fruits in the glass until they were a reddish pasta, collecting the seeds and pouring alcohol over what lasted in there. As you swayed everything together, you remembered drinking it once, but not quite where was it. You gulped it turning around to finally face Eddie, and he was splayed in a chair, a ghost of a smile on. “The hell you doin’?” he asked lowly and you shrugged. “I don’t know… But it worked.” He raised his brows, getting up and walking towards you. “Yeah? Is it good?” You hummed in response, feeling it burn down your throat. In the deep of your mind, watching Eddie coming closer and closer, you knew what was about to happen, but you didn’t act fast enough against it. “Let me taste it” And he did. Not from the cup but straight from your lips. Eddie leaned in and kissed you softly, an arm around your waist while his free hand went for the back of your neck. And you ease in melting into him was embarrassing, leaving the cup onto the sink as soon as he pressed you against it before the glass ended up shattered on the floor. His tongue slid over yours, hands going to grab your hips, lifting your shirt a bit in the process. You instantly wished he took it off, already built up after spending that time alone in the middle of nowhere and with that aching tension all over the place. You had sex with Richie twice already over time, one of them a bit drunkenly, the other completely sober and thirsty for it, but you had never done it with Eddie. And you wanted it bad. Been wanting for a long time now, since that fucking rainy day in his dorm. But you knew you couldn’t, not when you shouldn’t even be kissing him like that after managing to stick up to your chastity for over a month now. So your hands palmed his chest and gently pulled him away. “Holy fuck…” Richie’s whispered voice made both you and Eddie startle. He was right there, at the kitchen entrance with a towel around his waist, mouth agape looking at both of you and you had no idea of how much time was standing there now. But he for sure saw shit happening. “That was the fucking fastest shower ever,” Eddie said, so casually it disturbed you. “N-no… I just came back to grab my phone.” Richie muttered. You froze, having no idea of how to move or what to say now. Yes, they were pretty aware you messed around with both of them, but one never saw the other in the act. Never, nor even a peck, and now Richie just witnessed a goddamn show. You were ready to tell him how you were sorry because you had just denied him a kiss when you were sunbathing outside and you have been constantly denying him for weeks now, but he didn’t give you the chance. Richie grabbed his phone over the table and stopped the music. You had the hint that maybe he wasn’t upset once he had that little mischievous smirk of his while he made his way out of there and upstairs again. Of course you didn’t talk about the matter over dinner, but Richie acted like nothing happened and Eddie just followed the lead completely unbothered. You tried to go on as naturally as they did, but something about Richie’s furtive looks over you made you think he was definitely not cool about catching you and Eddie together in the kitchen. You just couldn’t tell if either he was jealous or whatever was that and it pinched you from the inside the rest of the night while you watched old TV shows reprising until it was past one in the morning. That was when Eddie started yawning and decided to go upstairs, to the room that’d be Richie’s formerly, kissing your forehead and smiling nonchalantly before shoving Richie’s shoulder. So it was Richie, you and silence in the living room lighten up by TV flashes here and there. He was already sleepy, laying on the couch he had been sleeping since he insisted on leaving his parents’ bedroom for you, claiming he'd be a terrible host if he had you or Eddie without a bed. You, curled in the armchair, hated unsolved matters and worse than that, you hated when said unsolved matters had to do with Richie because you knew how he internalized everything he felt if it was slightly messed up. So you went straight to the point to avoid any evasions from him. “Did you get jealous of me and Eddie?” You asked right away, eyeing at him from your safe place. He looked at you, dead in the eye, no single sign of emotion perpassing his face. “Not at all, sweet thing,” he said, shrugging. “Why would I be?” You didn’t explain it, because you knew he knew where you were trying to get at, so your raised eyebrow was enough. But Richie raised his back and you had to get up because the lack of words from him, the one who’d never shut up, was bothering you beyond belief. You walked over the couch, passing a leg over his, straddling the Tozier boy for his slight astonishment, his reddish lips curving in a half-smile. Richie also had freckles, darker and more numerous ones than Eddie’s, all over his nose and cheeks, some across the rest of his face and none on the rest of his body. When he sat up with you still in his lap, you could smell that cologne you didn’t know exactly which was, but that you loved. Loved how its scent would stay ghostly on your clothes after you made out in his truck like a mark of his, just like the hickeys he’d give you sometimes, on hidden places so only you could see them. “Don’t fucking play dumb with me,” you whispered now, “I’m sorry, okay?” Richie snorted. “I’m not lying to you, y/n/n. I’m definitely not mad at you nor at Eddie. You’re making up things in your pretty head, doll” His hands drifted up your thighs. “I miss you, that's true. But it doesn’t make me jealous of that hell of a scene I saw earlier.” You noticed how he swallowed dry. “So you trying to convince me you’re not utterly disgusted and hurt?” Richie snorted once more at your tease and the light air of his relieving a lot of pressure from your chest. “Far from that, y/n/n...” The way his voice slowed down and his eyes drifted away from yours to his restless fingers on your skin...You finally understood where the problem laid on. And you wouldn’t even need the light pink shade of his cheeks to assure that. “Oh God, you liked it…” You whispered in disbelief and Richie laughed, hands on your hips now, pulling you closer. “What if I did, doll?” He didn’t let you answer, lips on yours before you recovered from your shock. He kissed slowly and passionately, it was always like that, kisses that after a few seconds already got you wanting to rip his clothes off. He was warm against you, bare chest pressed against still clothed yours. As earlier with the Kaspbrak boy, you had the urge of pulling away from him for your own sake, but you couldn’t this time. Richie peppered kisses all the way from your mouth to your jawline, kissing the spot that got your underwear ruined every time, earning himself a low whimper from your lips. You felt dizzy. “Eds is my best friend, toots,” he whispered against your skin, “there’s no one I’d be more glad to let spend time with you, touch you...” His hands ran up your sides underneath your shirt and your nails dig into his shoulders. “Kiss you.” He sucked a hickey on the crook of your neck that finally had you moaning out loud. “Richie-” His name. You could feel him smiling at that. “Or have you.” “For fuck’s sake, Richie…” You knew how to read in between his lines and in his darkened eyes when he pulled away to look into yours, glasses off. You knew he couldn’t see you quite well, but you could see him. If Richie was implying what you thought he was… “I told you I’d never lie to you, and I’m sticking to it.” Richie didn’t smile this time. “And believe me when I say I wish Eddie had taken you right on that counter.” You were the one dry swallowing now, thoughts running a mile a second. “For you to watch?” You scoffed, trying to hide how flustered you were. Richie remained serious when he laid down again. His moves underneath you let you feel him hardened under you. “No. I’d for sure join.” You read him again, tried to find whatever proved you he was just teasing. But he wasn’t. And that left you speechless, made him smile, tapping your hips gently. “But go to bed, toots. We can talk about it any other day. When you're ready and the cat doesn’t get your tongue.”

[harryskiwis]

New Beginnings

You and Harry start the next chapter of your lives.

(not my gif)

A/N: Hi! Welcome to the first installment to my new series “New Beginning’s!” It’s a fluffy fic, and one I’m excited about because I really love dad!Harry! So lemme know what you think because I’m nervous to post this, but excited to get feedback! Reblogs, likes, asks, and comments are greatly appreciated! xx

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Warnings: Fluff and light swearing!

Summary: You and Harry have been trying for a baby for a while now, yet every test turns out negative. However, one day, things might get a little more positive for you two. 

Today was sunny and humid. Very humid. Typically your favorite kind of LA weather, but today, you just weren’t feeling it. Everything seemed to be against you nowadays- your car broke down this morning while you were on your way to work, the power at your house went out last night, and you and your husband, no matter how many times you try, cannot get pregnant. 

It’s all the two of you wanted. You just wanted a baby. And some would say, “You’ve still got time!” And while that is technically true, now is the time you both feel is the best time to welcome a child into your lives. Your job has never been a burden for you- as you’re a bridal consultant at a nice, expensive, chic bridal salon in the center of LA. And your husband- who bless his heart, just wants a baby so bad that he mentions it all the time- is at a standstill with his music career right now since he’s not touring. You tried and tried and tried, but the universe just wouldn’t give in and give you what you wanted. 

You were currently sat on your couch watching a rerun of ‘The Big Bang Theory’ on TV. Only, you were half paying attention. You were sipping your favorite tea that Harry had so graciously got for you last night when he was on his way home from the studio, and petting your trusty black cat, Eddie. You were lost in thought thinking of what being a mother would be like- the domestic moments with Harry, buying them cute clothes, getting to celebrate mothers day, and getting to chat with the other moms about motherly things. It’s all you wanted and more. 

Your lack of paying attention to the TV and incessant thinking about being a mother had you make the impulsive decision to take another pregnancy test. You knew it’d be negative, but that tiny slimmer of hope still left inside of your heart somewhere kept your whole being optimistic about someday having a positive test. 

You quickly ran to your large marble bathroom and opened the cabinet under your side of the sink to pull out the box of pregnancy tests you had bought about a month ago. There was only one left. You knew it was negative- you had no symptoms- but you wanted to take it anyways. Harry was currently at his managers house working on some upcoming plans, so you figured now was the best time to take your spontaneous test. 

After quickly grabbing the test and ripping the plastic off of it, you took it. Once you were done, you stared at it for a few moments before placing it face down on the counter and leaving the bathroom. You had to wait at least five minutes for the results to pop up, and you didn’t know if you’d last that long before your stomach fell on the floor from nerves. Even though you’ve done this multiple times, and they’ve come back negative every time, each new test brings nerves and a small sense of hope that maybe you are pregnant. It never checks out, however, and you know this time will be no different. 

During the long five minutes waiting for your test results, you pace back and forth your kitchen gnawing your bottom lip raw. Your nerves make you sweat, causing you to have to remove Harry’s “Treat People With Kindness” hoodie from your body as it was doing nothing to quell the fire in your belly. Your socked feet walked back and forth across the kitchen for what felt like twenty years before the timer on your phone went off causing you to jump, slapping a hand to your chest out of being startled. 

You let out the breath you were holding from your mini-scare and quickly turned off the timer with shaky hands. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before slowly making your way back to your bathroom. Once you got there, you stood in front of the test for a moment before picking it up. You had to remind yourself that it would be okay if negative- just like every other time. You’d probably sit there and scold yourself for putting yourself through that madness again, but you’d be okay. You have Harry, and he’s all you need. 

Slowly, with your hands shaking, you close your eyes and pick up the test, flipping it around. All it takes is one more deep breath before you’re opening your eyes and facing the ‘negative’ result on the stick. However, what you see makes you fall to the floor below you in complete shock. 

It was positive. 

A sigh of relief that you had been holding since you took your first test was finally let out, and your eyes instantly welled up with tears. You literally couldn’t believe it. You were pregnant. You had been absolutely certain the test was going to be negative, yet here you were, sitting on the floor of yours and Harry's bathroom, looking at a positive pregnancy test. 

You were going to be a mother. You’d get to dress your baby in the cutest clothes, go shopping for said clothes with Anne, you’d be celebrating mothers day, and you’d finally get to hear Harry sing lullaby’s to your baby. Thinking of all of these things made you cry harder. You genuinely never thought you’d get here. 

After a few more minutes of sitting and crying, you picked yourself up and began planning on how you were going to tell Harry. You knew you wanted to keep it simple, but your mind was racing with ideas. However, you knew you’d tell him as soon as he got home. He’s been waiting just as long as you have for this news, and he deserved to know right away. 

Your newfound happiness inspired you to go to your kitchen and whip up some Fettuccine Chicken Alfredo. Harry says you make the best, but everyone knows Anne holds that rank. Yet, yours is not bad, but you hardly make it anymore, which is why you’re making it now. 

As soon as Harry steps into the house, he immediately smells your Alfredo dish. It’s his favorite, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until now. He sets his keys down on the side table by the front door before following the scent of your cooking. Once he gets a little closer, he can hear you humming along to some tune that he can’t quite figure out. He turns the corner and stands in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment watching you prepare your plates while humming and dancing. The sight makes him smile faintly, his love for you surfacing after a long day of work. 

When he finally clears his throat to get your attention, you gasp and jump a bit, making him chuckle. You blush, but smile at him nonetheless as you make your way towards him. As you reach him, your hands make their way around his neck, playing with the hair that faintly curls at his nape. His hands settle on your waist and the two of you gaze at each other lovingly. 

“Hi baby,” Harry starts, smiling down at you. “Wha’s got you all happy today?” He asks. 

Once again, the butterflies and nerves from earlier return to your stomach, as you know you’re about to tell him that he’s going to be a father. You knew he’d be excited, but doubt can be a real bitch sometimes. 

“Hi Harry,” you say. “I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. How was work?” 

“It was good. Boring, but good. Glad to be home to you,” he says. At this, the two of you lean towards each other to lock in a sweet kiss. It’s the first since this morning, and it makes you feel content. 

“I’m happy you’re home,” you say. You leave his grasp and direct him towards the plates of food sat out on the counter. “I made your favorite tonight. Figured you’d want it after a long day.” 

“Know me so well baby,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Smells s’good.” 

You smile and hand him his plate as you take yours. The both of you head over to your dining table and take your seats across from each other to eat.

Throughout dinner, Harry tells you about his day and the plans he and his manager made regarding his career. You tell him about your day at work, and how you arrived late because of your car breaking down, but then tell him that it was overall a good day. 

After dinner is done and you and Harry are washing up dishes, you finally decide to tell him about your pregnancy. You’re nervous, but yet still confident, as you know he’ll be over the moon about the news. You bashfully turn your head to him, and blush- staring at him for a few moments. He’s washing up a pot, and he has a furrow in his brows from concentration. Once he’s done, he goes to hand the pot to you to dry it, which you take it, but he notices you’re staring. 

“Why’re you starin’ love?” He asks, a smirk painting his perfect lips. 

“I need to tell you something,” you say, setting the pot down after it’s been dried. 

A frown immediately takes over his features, as the phrase “I need to tell you something” scares him just as much as “We need to talk” does. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, concern in his voice. 

“Yes,” you say with a light laugh. “Everything is more than alright, I just need to tell you something.” 

He nods, and you begin walking towards your bedroom to go fetch the test when you notice he’s following you. 

“Stay there,” you say. “I’ll be right back.” The frown on his perfect features deepens. 

Once you arrive in your bedroom and retrieve your test, you take a deep breath and give yourself some encouragement. It’s only Harry- your beloved husband Harry who loves you so much and is going to be absolutely thrilled once you tell him. 

You slowly leave the bedroom, walking back to your anxious husband who, in his mind, is worried you’re bringing him divorce papers. Once you see him, frown still very evident in his features, your hands start to shake. 

“I have something to give you,” you say, your voice sounding a bit shaky. 

“I thought you needed to tell me something,” he says, raising a perfect eyebrow. 

“Well, I do. This will tell you everything.” 

You walk towards him further, and instruct him to hold out his hands, which he willingly does. He looks down at you expectantly, and you smile up at him. 

“Close your eyes,” you say, making him groan in frustration. 

Once his eyes are closed, you slowly pull the positive test out from behind your back, and place it in his awaiting hands with your clammy ones. You grab his fingers and maneuver them to where they’re clasping the test in his fists. 

You step back from him, hands behind your back, beginning to chew on your lip some more. He still hasn’t opened his eyes back up, awaiting your command to do so. 

“You can open your eyes,” you speak out, and it makes him chuckle a bit before opening them. 

When his eyes open and his fists unclasp from around the test, he blinks a few times making sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. As soon as he looks up and his eyes meet yours, you’re crying again. 

“Are you-?” he begins. “Are you really-” 

He doesn’t finish, as he looks up to see you nodding back at him. Once he sees your confirmation, he too begins crying, and you run towards him, his arms engulfing you in a much needed hug. 

“Oh baby,” he says through tears. “Finally, my love.” He presses consistent kisses on your forehead as your tears soak through his shirt. 

You hug him the tightest you have in a while, as your life is finally starting to feel complete. You were finally going to be a family, and it made you happier than anything ever has.

“How long have you known?” Harry asks after a few more moments of hugging. You pull apart and look up at him, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“I found out a couple hours ago. I just took the test spontaneously. I didn’t expect for it to be positive,” you say as you wipe your eyes.

“I’m so happy, darling,” Harry says in a smile. He swiftly picks you up, catching you by surprise, and twirls you around the kitchen. You let out a squeal through smiles as he spun you around. When he set you back down, his lips immediately met yours, and you closed your eyes as you smiled into the kiss.

“We’re going to be parents, Harry,” you whispered up to him once your lips broke apart, your foreheads pressed together.

He closed his eyes and smiled down to you, his cheeks still wet from his tears. “Yes we are, my love.”

fin

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Lost letters

Summary: Richie and Eddie reunite when Mike calls them back to defeat an old enemy. As soon as Richie sees Eddie, his old feelings hit him like a train. 

warnings: some curse words, Richie is a bit negative towards himself at some point (not too long) 

The first thing Richie thought off, when Mike called, wasn’t Eddie, despite how much Richie would tell himself that was, or anyone else from the losers club for that matter.

No, the first thing Richie remembered was the feeling of hatred towards Derry. He couldn’t remember why, the memories still hadn’t come back to him, still whipped away thanks to the curse that IT had put over them, but the feeling he recognized straight away.

When he had finally made it too the restaurant, recognizing Beverly and Ben, his mind had provided him with the memory of an angel, Eddie Kaspbrak.

He watched, or stared more like, as Beverly and Ben reunited, but all he could feel was complete and utter heartbreak. He remembered the neurotic hypochondriac very clearly now, and Richie couldn’t imagine not knowing he excited. He almost felt excited to walk into the restaurant, to see what had come of his former best friend, the boy who he had his very first crush on.

The feeling was quickly replaced though, with a feeling of helplessness, and a feeling of disgust. Not towards Eddie, Richie could never feel anything but good towards Eds, but to himself.

The memories of days sitting in the hammock, close enough to Eddie to be able to count all the freckles on his face, often already halfway before he realized what he was doing, and look away with glancing eyes to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, nobody ever, to the best of his ability to recall, ever did.  

He would spend almost every night with Eddie in his bedroom, climbing to his window, even when Richie almost fell down, just so he could talk to him, to sleep in his proximity.

He’d lie to Sonia about having to work with Eddie on homework, before dragging him out to the arcade, or the barrens with some new comic books, that they would completely read in an hour. Then they would complain about having to wait so long for the next one.

When the losers would have movie nights, he’d make sure he could sit by Eddie every time, spending the entire movie pouting if he didn’t.

His heart stops completely when he thinks about the kissing bridge, and how scared he had been that Bowers or anyone was watching him. Waiting until he was finished so they could beat his ass for being a ‘fag’ after. He recalls something else about the carvings too though. He also felt a sense of security.

He was always so scared that he was misinterpreting his feeling. Like he wasn’t really in love with Eddie, and was just mistaken because he had never been in love. It was on his mind constantly, and it made him sick. He had asked his mother about it once, and she had responded to the best of her ability’s. Richie had asked her how she knew that his father was the ‘one’.

Though Richie’s parents weren’t perfect, and neither was their relationship, it was clear to 15 year old Richie that his parents loved each other very much. His mother had smiled, in a way that only she could, a smile that held a secret, not necessarily bad, just something that was hidden.

‘I knew because I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Because when I was scared or upset, the only person I wanted next to me was Went.’ She stared forward a little vacantly, as if she was lost in memories from older times.

‘I was certain that I wanted to marry Went and have a wonderful child with him,’ she gently nudged Richie, ‘because I couldn’t imagine having to live without him.’

It was then that Richie knew. He knew that he loved Eddie, and he also knew, that he would do everything in his power to keep it a secret from everyone. His mom still had her significant smile on her face. She leaned down and dropped her voice to a quiet murmur.

‘Just because your dad fell in love with a woman, doesn’t mean you have to.’ Then, without waiting for a reply, she ruffled his hair and walked out of their kitchen. Richie had gaped at her, too stunned for once in his life to respond to what she had said.

The carving on the bridge, gave him a security. That he feeling were real, and valid. Regardless of the fact that nobody knew of them, he had them, and he would most likely continue to have them.

Younger Richie was dumb, considering he did forget about his feelings, carved in the bridge or not. But standing in Derry, waiting to make himself known, it was like all his memories that were Eddie related came rushing back in. Richie wanted to throw up again.

He wondered if Eddie was already in the jade oriental, recollecting him. Richie banned that thought from his mind immediately. He was not going that path right now. He wouldn’t let himself internalize the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him. God he needed a fucking drink.

‘Wow,’ he started saying as he saw Ben and Beverly hug. He didn’t want to wait any longer. ‘You guys look great, what the fuck happened to me?’ Beverly and Ben turned to face him, all smiles and adoring looks. Richie smiled too, feeling happy at seeing his friends again, even if barely two days ago he hadn’t remembered them.

He reached forward to hug Ben, glancing up and down his body. He had gotten smoking, but he seemed to have kept his kindness all the same. ‘Richie’, he said, as if it wasn’t obvious already. He pulled his hands out of his pocket, gripping Ben’s shirt in his hands before pulling back. Then Ben step aside so Richie could hug Beverly.

Beverly, who he felt returning the hug attentively, and Richie released some of the strength he was hugging her with without second though. Beverly relaxed and Richie was transported into the past, them standing behind the school courtyard to smoke, out of sight from everyone expect each other.

Richie feels a stab of longing, even though he hasn’t thought of his childhood for so long. He thinks back to the feeling of utter dread when he got the call, wondering why it was that he wasn’t exciting to come back. He knows that the answer is right there, on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s starting to suspect it’s just going to hit him in the face.

He follows behind Bev and Ben as they walk into the restaurant, like a petulant child who has misbehaved and has to follow his parents to get punished. He feels scared, even though Eddie has no idea what his feeling are, and it wasn’t like he can read his thoughts, but he just is.  

When they reach the table, where three others are present, all with their back turned, Bev and Ben wait. It may be that they’re having their own nostalgic moments, but Richie doesn’t really care. Now that he can see Eddie standing in front of him, he just has to get a glimpse of Eddie’s face.

He glances beside him and sees a bong, and he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t reach for it and slammed it harshly, alerting their presence. Mike, Eddie and Bill turn around as fast as they can, the silence and tranquil moment broken by the loud sound. Richie doesn’t give them a chance to say anything, and just vocalizes the first thought he has.

‘This meeting of the losers club has officially began.’  

He meets Eddie’s eyes. Richie drops his eyes as soon as they do, but not before taking all of Eddie in.

He looks older, which is logical, but Richie can’t help but feel wondered by it. He has stress lines and a few wrinkles here and there, and Richie wants nothing more but to make him smile so they go away. He has a few grey hairs here and there, and he still looks so small. Richie can’t help but think that he’s a giant compared to him.

‘Look at these guys.’

Eddie smiles, his dimples appearing, and Richie swears his heart stops for a few moments. His voice is rougher, his pipsqueak sound has turned mature. Richie wants to hear Eddie talking all day.

Deflect. His mind supplies, so that’s what Richie does. Hopefully, he’s learned something from the acting classes his manager forced him to take. He points to Ben, who’s not looking at him. Making a motion of a slimming body, because holy hell. If Richie wasn’t so hopelessly in love with Eddie, he would tap Ben faster than anyone could blink. ‘Ben’, he mounts, just as the man himself turns around. Richie smiles at him, acting like his nose bleeds. That seems to be a pattern with him.

After that, things are alright. They sit at their table, at first a little unsure of how to act around each other, but after only a few minutes, it’s like they’ve always done this. Like they do this every day.

They order Chinese food, and Richie forgets all about the bad feeling he had, about Derry, but also about Eddie. It’s familiar to act flirtatious around Eddie without Eddie seeing the double meaning. That reliefs Richie, for he has known to speak the truth but then cover it up by making a joke out of it.

Richie orders a shot, drinking it blowjob style. He used to do that all the time in college, it was a trick he had up his sleeve to seduce the guys he was interested in. It didn’t work all the time, more like ever, but Richie still does it again.

He doesn’t know if it’s to impress Eddie, or just because it causes him to get drunk faster.

When he spits the glass back out, his filter falls out too. ‘So wait Eddie you got married?’ he asks. As soon as the word come out of his mouth, he wants to slap himself over the head. He’s such an idiot. Why the fuck would he asks that?

Luckily, it riles Eddie up, and he doesn’t notice the way Richie’s eyes sadden despite himself when he glances at the ring.

‘Yo why is it so fucking funny dickwad?’ He bites, and Richie can’t help himself.

‘What to like a woman?’ He coats his words with an air of arrogance. Trying to conceal how he really feels. Why he truly wants to know. Logically he knows it’s not going to do him any good. Eddie is not going to be gay, he probably despises homosexuals. If he would know that Richie was one, they would have never been best friends before.

Beverly glances his way, and it looks like she’s trying to decipher something.

‘Fuck you bro’, Eddie replies, but he looks amused as he says it. He doesn’t mean it. Silently, Richie lets out a sigh of relief.

Richie laughs, a real one for a change. ‘Fuck you’, he yells back, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue like a child.

‘Okay what about you trashmouth’, Bill asks. Out of the blue Richie remembers where he got his nickname for his comedy shows.

‘Did you get married?’

Richie thinks to himself that no, he isn’t married. He would have loved to be married to Eddie though.

‘there’s no way’, Beverly laughs, hearty and honest. Richie senses a gateway to an old joke. ‘No, I got married’, he says with full confidence. Looking around the table to make sure that everyone’s listening. Eddie seems very interested, but Richie writes that off as his own imagination.

‘Rich, I don't believe you’, Beverly exclaims, reaching for another piece of food.

‘When?’, Eddie asks. If Richie didn’t know any better, he’d say Eddie was jalousy. He knows that’s not the case though.

‘Haven't you heard of that?’, he asks instead, looking Eddie straight in his eyes.

‘No,’ Eddie claimed, no breaking eye contact for one second.

‘You do not know?’

‘No.’

‘Your mother and I are very happy now.’ He sees the exact moment that Eddie comprehends his words, his face turning into a scowl. Richie shakes with laughter.

‘Fuck you’, Eddie says once calmly, and then again, angrier, as if the joke is still registering.

‘She is so sweet. Sometimes she’ll put her arm around me and whisper; and then Richie does his best Chewbacca impression. Doing the voices, it’s like there’s another wall between him and the outside world, another layer they would have to get through to get to know them. He doesn’t let them.

‘We all get it: my mom is a great big fat person. Hilarious, hysterical.’ Eddie looks like he’s actually contemplating killing Richie, and all he can do is laugh. He missed this, even if he didn’t known it was this specific thing he was missing, he still felt like part of himself wasn’t there. It turns out that part is Eddie shaped, but Richie’s not sure if he wants to delve deeper into that.

‘Is Richie making another your mom joke, Eddie?’ A new voice speaks up from behind the table, and when Richie turns around, he comes face to face with Stanley Uris. He hadn’t even thought of him when he was laughing with the others, but now that he’s here, Richie can’t imagine forgetting that they were missing their seventh member.

Stan’s lips are pulled in a grimace, and his face look ashen pale. He’s terrified, even though Richie has no idea why. The nagging feeling that he was still forgetting something nagged at the back of his mind, but Richie got up to hug Stan, and the feeling went away.

Stan stiffened when Richie’s armed circled around him, but then he seemed to shrug and he hugged back.

‘Stanley the manley’, Richie joked. Stan didn’t look amused, but he ultimately decided to just let it go. When Richie turned around to sit back down on his seat, he noticed that Eddie was staring at him. Richie smiled at him, trying to get a reaction out of him, but Eddie didn’t shift his gaze, and only did eventually, when Stan came up to greet him.

As soon as Eddie’s eyes were off Richie, he shivered. He wanted to ask Eddie if everything was alright, but he didn’t want to be alone with Eddie. He also didn’t want to attract any more attention to Eddie, just in case something was really wrong and he wanted to keep it hidden from everyone.

Stan chooses the only open seat there’s left, which means he’s placed in between Richie and Eddie. Richie is both equally annoyed and grateful.

‘So Stan, are you married?’ Eddie asks once things have quiet down. Richie looks down and sure enough, there’s a ring present on his finger. Stan smiles, toying with it a few times while nodding his head.

‘Yeah. Her name is Patricia, or rather Patty, and she’s amazing. I’m lucky to have her.’

The look on his face is one of pure adoration, and Richie is really happy for him, Stan deserves it.

‘I mean it’s weird right,’ Ben says, turning the conversation over. ‘Things are starting to come back faster and faster now that I’m here.’

Richie understands what he means, he feels the same way. It’s weird being in a room full of people who were once your whole world, and Richie hadn’t recalled them for years, only to now come back and know everything again.

‘When Mike called I threw up,’ he says, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. ‘Is that weird? I got nervous and sick so I threw up. I feel fine now, I’m very relieved that I’m here with you guys.’

Everybody is still looking at him, and Richie feels nauseous again. He wonders if he said to much, again. He wants to drop from his chair and hide out anywhere, he wishes everyone would stop looking at him.

‘Why is everyone looking at me like that?’ he asks instead.

‘I crashed my car when Mike called’, Eddie mumbles, his eyes looking at the table.

‘Seriously?’ Bill asks, seconds before Richie does the same. He looks Eddie over, looking for any wounds, but he seems physically fine.

When Richie’s eyes peer at Mike, he seems awfully guilty.

‘Man I hear ya. I mean my heart started pounding right out of my chest’, Ben agrees.

‘I though it was only me.’ Bev replies, staring vacantly in front of her.

‘It was like pure f-f-f-.’ Bill looks mortified, not being able to spit out the word. It’s clear as day to Richie in an instant that he had a stutter, all the way through the third year of high school. He might have head one later too, but Richie didn’t know him beyond that year.

‘Fear’, Mike interrupts, ‘It is fear. What you all feel.’

‘Why do we all feel like that Mike?’ Richie has never seen Mike as nervous as he is now. It’s jarring.

Next to him, Stan hasn’t said a word. Worriedly Richie glances at him, but Stan adamantly doesn’t meet his eyes.

‘You remember something we don’t, don’t you Mike?’ Bill inquires, picking up that Mike is trying to dodge the subject.

‘Something happens to you when you leave this town. The further you go, the hazier it all gets. But me, I’ve never left. I remember all of it.’

Richie frown, and the feeling he first got when Mike called is coming back. He feels bad, his mind reaming at him that he shouldn’t have come back here.

He’s happy Eddie is here though, and the others, so he doesn’t know why. He does the opposite of pushing the feeling away, leaning into it now, because he knows the answer is right there. It’s like looking through water, his memory is muddled but he needs to know what he’s missing, it feels important that he knows.

It doesn’t click until Bev breathes out; ‘Pennywise’

Richie chokes on his own spit. How could he forget. The clown. The fucking clown that had murdered children, and had nearly murdered him and his friends. The terror of the summer of ’89 comes rushing in, and he understands now why he didn’t want to come back at all.

‘ow the fucking clown.’ Eddie seems to have come to the same conclusion. Richie’s breathing start to deepen, he’s panicking, but trying still to cover it up.

‘There’s an echo here in Derry, It bounces back every 27 years.’

Eddie bounces back in his chair, trying to put as much distance between him and Mike. ‘What?’  He’s looking for his inhaler somewhere in his pocket.

‘Hold on listen. We thought we stopped it back then, We thought it was done.’

‘Mike’, Richie wines, a little embarrassing. He doesn’t want to hear what he has to say. He wants him to stop talking.

‘A few days ago, Adrian Melon was slaughtered. Another girl went missing, there have been others and there will be others.’

Everyone is starting to talk over each other now, terrified beyond their comprehension, and Richie just sits there trying to make sense of everything.

‘Let him explain, Let him explain’, Ben tries to sooth. If Richie wasn’t thinking about every possible way he could get out of the restaurant, he might have been charmed by the way Ben always sticks up for others, even years later.

‘That echo? We might have changed IT, just like IT changed us, but we didn’t stop IT. IT just bounced back. We made an ought, that’s why I called you here. That’s why I brought you back. So we could kill it. For real this time.’

Bev breathes in shaky, and it’s then that Richie realizes that Stan still hasn’t said anything for the whole time Mike had been speaking. When he does turn, he decides to not address him, it’s clear that Stan is just as, if not more scared.

Richie knows his place in the group. It’s the same as it has always been. He’s supposed to make a joke, to distract from the horrific thing waiting for them.

‘well that shit got dark fast, thanks Mike.’ He reaches to take a fortune cookie laying on the table, trying to distract everyone, including himself.

The others follow his lead, Eddie first, followed by Bill and the rest of them. When Richie cracks his cookie open, he freezes again. What the fuck.

‘Mine just says die. So I guess I’ll see you fuckers in hell’, he jokes. On the outside he appears funny, but on the inside he’s screaming. He can’t believe this restaurant.

‘Mine says the same thing’, Ben says, showing everyone the paper.

The others also agree, and Richie is just about to ask what kind of sick joke Mike is playing, when the fortune cookies that were still on the table, were starting to crack open, out of nowhere.

He jumps up, after seeing the others do the same, running to the other side of the room by himself.

Despite the fact that his life is most likely at stake, he can’t help but keep his focus on Eddie to make sure he’s okay. He’s not obviously, and Richie wants nothing more than to get him out of this town, back to the safety of any other city.

‘oh shit, oh shit’, Eddie’s mumbling, terrified eyes fleeing around the room.

One of the cookies crack open completely, the wing of a baby bird popping out.

‘What the fuck is that’? Richie complains, trying to get a better look.

He takes a step forward, but jumps back when Eddie yells at him.

‘Would you step back you absolute moron?’ Eddie screeches, reaching his arm out like a mother to her child when the car has to stop suddenly, but he’s too far away to reach Richie, so he drops his arm quick.

He gets a warm feeling at the fact that Eddie is worried about him, but is pushed back into the present when the thing come crawling out, but it has a fucking baby face instead of a head. It’s crying like an actual baby.

When the thing flies to the edge of the table, The other fortune cookies start cracking too.

The one closest to Richie opens to reveal an eye sliming it’s way across the table to Richie.

‘Hey, hey that fortune cookie is looking at me’, he yells, stumbling backwards even more. ‘Shit’

‘I don’t wanna be here’, he hears Eddie say, and his heart clenches. He sees a bat flying towards Eddie and Ben, who promptly hold their arms up to protect themselves. ‘Holy shit,’ Eddie screams.

Their table is getting rearranged, glances and plates falling left and right. When the bat flies in to attack Ben and Eddie, Richie finds his voice again.

‘Hey, Eddie’, he yells useless. He can’t help him from so far away. He wants too though.

Stan is falling to his knees in the far left corner, rocking back and forth like a scared child.

A black goo spreads from the bowl of cookies, like acid burning through everything. The stupid Chinese music is still playing, as if nothing is happening, as if they aren’t fearing for their life.

It surprising that no one has come to check up on them, with all the commotion happening.

Mike comes to a realization, grabbing a chair and banging the table. ‘It’s not real, it’s not real’, he keep repeating, though Richie can’t imagine banging a chair on acid is doing much to help.

Richie crawls up the cabinet, feeling a little fear for Mike’s sanity. When he looks to his left, the waiter has appeared, her eyes are wide as she look around the room.

‘Is everything alright?’ she asks, annoyance and anger lacing her voice.

The black goo is gone, the eye aiming for Richie and the bat have vanished into thin air aswell. Richie can breath easy again.

‘Yeah, can we have the check please.’ He tries to smile to put their waiter at ease. All she does is huff and turn around, no doubt charging them for all the damage.

They hardly wait for the check before bolting, not being able to get out of there fast enough.

He and Eddie shuffle over to Stan, helping him up. Stan looks at them when he’s standing up, tear streaks on his cheeks. ‘Ow fuck.’ He uttered. And yeah, he’s right, oh fuck.

On the way to the exit, it seems that IT’s not done fucking with them yet. When the group passes a kid, looking no older than 10 years old, he addresses Richie.

‘Hey Richie,’ he stops dead in his tracks, the fun is just beginning right?’

Richie has no idea what that means, but as he is just about to ask, while simultaneously lose his mind, Stan grips his arm.

‘No’, he says simply, before marching out with Richie still clenched tightly. Luckily, the kid doesn’t follow them.

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

Richie drives out of the parking spot last. It’s a well thought off choice, because after only 5 minutes of driving very slowly so the others couldn’t see him, he stopped the car and pukes all over the side of the road.

It’s disgusting, and he wishes that could brush his teeth, but he resigns himself to deal with it once he gets back to his hotelroom. He doesn’t want to be alone in fucking Derry. When he gets back into his car, he can see the rustling of some leaves, but he doesn’t stop to take a better look. He slams the door, his tires screeching as he drives away.

When he gets to the in, everyone’s waiting for him. He didn’t take long, but all of their lips are set in a worried line.

He steps out of his car, and Eddie stomps over to him. ‘What the fuck asshole? Are you trying to get killed?’

Richie doesn’t get why the waited, everyone was planning on going home anyway.

‘Sorry’, he just shrugs, and then he steps beside Eddie to go up to his room. The hallway  is silent, right until he steps into it. Then they start a ruckus, Mike still desperate to get them to stay. Richie has already made up his mind though. It doesn’t matter if anyone else stays, he’s going home.

He’s already feels like he aged 10 years in barely 5 hours, and he’s keen to forget everything that’s going on here again. He doesn’t want to spend every day looking into things, wondering if Eddie could ever possibly like  him back. He doesn’t want to remember that the only guy he’s ever wanted in life, would be repulsed if he knew what Richie was thinking.

He flat out refuses to go back into the sewers where he almost died. Tough luck for the kids that were living in Derry, but he even if he stayed, he wouldn’t be able to be of much help anyway. He was and is a loser, and his friends might have something else going on for them, Richie does not.

He annoys the shit out of people, has no friends, expect maybe Steve but he doesn’t count. Richie has a shitty life but honestly that’s fine by him. At least he doesn’t have to worry about dying that way.

 ‘Guys, please’, he hears Mike beg, but he ignores it in favor of running up the stairs to the second floor. The Derry inn is so old it doesn’t have an elevator. When he gets up to his floor, he gets stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He stops abruptly, the touch burning his skin. He already knows that it’s Eddie who stopped him, but that doesn’t mean the sight of Eddie standing so close to him takes his breath away.

For a solid second, they don’t say anything. They just stare at each other, waiting for the other to say something. Then Stan bumps them with his shoulder, sending Eddie tumbling in Richie’s chest.

‘Move it losers,’ he teases as he passes them. Richie glares at him while he steadies Eddie. Because of the fall, the two stand even closer together than before. It takes Richie’s breath away.

‘Do you want to come up to my room for a second? Help me pack?’, Eddie asks with a soft voice. Richie knows it isn’t smart, he should probably go to his own room and get everything ready, but it’s Eddie, and Richie could never say no to Eddie.

He smirks, a carefully thought off façade appearing, hiding his real feeling just like he’s always done.

‘Sure thing Eds, go and lead the way my good fellow.’

Eddie’s face remains stoic, but Richie notices that his upper lip is trembling, like he’s fighting against a smile or laugh. ‘Fuck I forgot you did those stupid fucking voices.’

Richie laughs, and Eddie joins him only seconds later. It makes Richie’s heart drop into his stomach. He’s an idiot, why did he say yes to spend time alone with Eddie?

Eddie’s room is almost identical to Eddie’s, except for the fact that Richie’s own room is basically empty, he hadn’t bothered to unpack, while Eddie’s cabinets were full clothing. Richie snorted.

‘Damn Eddie Spaghetti, When did you have time to do all this?’

Eddie throws him a glare. ‘Some of us want order and structure in the room Richard.’

Richie plows down on the bed that’s perfectly made, not a crease to be found. Until he sits down though, he thinks about moving around a bit, just to piss Eddie off some more, but he figures he better not do that when he sees Eddie’s face turn red. He laughs again.  

His angry look is undermined by the fondness that is so clearly just bellow the surface. Despite the fact that they shit on each other any change they can, they love each other. Even if for Eddie that feeling of love is strictly platonic.

‘I’m just going to get my toiletry bag’, Eddie explains, before rushing into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him until there’s only a sliver of opening through which they can talk to the other. It doesn’t make sense that Eddie would close the door, but Richie is just happy that he can take a breather.

The room itself is just as ugly as all the others, the wallpaper is falling off, the bed creaks with Richie’s weight, and the air is filled with a stench that smells like death.

Richie is reminded of his grandmother’s house, only in that house there had also been the smell of fresh baked cookies, so Richie would rate that house better.

He listens as Eddie shuffled behind the door for a while, opening dressers and throwing them in what Richie assumes is a bag. He tries to be patient, but he can’t sit still on his best days, and now that he knows there’s a killer clown behind him, he’s even more jittery. When Eddie still hasn’t opened the door after two minutes, Richie decides to speak up.

‘What’s taking so long? Are you jacking off in there?’

The sounds still for about a second, then the clinks of different objects being thrown together doubles.

‘Fuck you asshole. You know I’m not doing that. Myra just hates it when I leave doors open.’

Richie snorts, covering up the fact that he just got hit on the head with the facts once more.

‘Wow, I guess your love life must be really boring then hey, what about the sex?’ he taunts, not sure why he’s putting himself through it.

Eddie doesn’t dignify his comment with a response, so Richie busies himself with twirling the fabric of the bed round and round. His leg begins to jump up and down, and his palms begin to sweat uneasy. He wants to leave, right now.

He promised Eddie that he’d wait though, and he also doesn’t want to risque anything happening to him just because Richie was too much of a coward to stay for five minutes longer.

He jumps up though, pacing around the room. Eddie still hasn’t reappeared from there. He’s just about to groan of annoyance, when he sees something like out of Eddie’s dresser. The drawer hasn’t been fully closed, and a piece of string hangs out on the side.

Richie doesn’t want to pry, really, but he has the urge to see what it’s attached too. He looks back to the bathroom, that’s still firmly shut, and then decides to ignore his commonsense. He’s pretty sure Eddie won’t mind, although, yeah Eddie would without a single doubt mind.

He tries to open the drawer as quiet as he can, which isn’t easy, considering all the furniture is so old it all squeaks. He manages it fairly easy, and grasps the old string without seeing what else is in Eddie’s drawer.

As soon as he dangles the thing in front of his face, he understands why he wanted to see what it was so bad. It was a stupid old thing, just a shell that Richie had found somewhere in Derry, with a hole pinched in, making it a necklace. Richie wore it everyday for a whole year, but recalls now why he gave it away. It was when Eddie was getting ready to leave with his mother, moving out of Derry. Both of them had stood beside Eddie’s old home, crying because they realised what was about to happen. Beside Richie, and of course Mike, Eddie was the last to leave. They already had the knowledge that whoever left town forgot about the others, having seen five examples. Eddie wanted to stay, and Richie had wanted nothing more, but he also knew that Sonia wouldn’t allow it, so he kept silent.

He gave Eddie the necklace, saying that it was okay if he forgot Richie, as long as he remembered that he was brave, and not the sick, scared little boy his mother made him out to be. He gave him the thing in the hopes that he would at the very least know that.

He can’t believe Eddie still has the thing, and he wonders if it was because he knew what it meant, or just a coincidence.

Just as he was mulling it over, Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, stepping towards the wardrobe on the other side of the room.

‘Hey, do you want to go grab a bite or something before we leave and forget completely? I’m starving.’

When Eddie turns around, his eyes became the size of saucer, a couple of emotions running over his face.

Richie can’t help the cocky little smirk on his lips, keeping the necklace away from Eddie’s reach. ‘Can’t believe you kept this, Eds.’

When Eddie reluctantly looks Richie in the eyes and sees the smirk, his face turns into a scowl. ‘Go suck a dick Richie.’

Just like Richie predicated, Eddie tries to take the thing away from him, but Richie lets him. A little shocked by the words that left Eddie’s mouth. Logically, he knows that it means nothing, and it’s just an insult, but he has kept his sexuality in the closet for so long, it has started its own clothing brand.

Eddie grimaces as he tucks away the token in his pocket, looking guilty when he notices that Richie had paled significantly.

‘Sorry’, he apologizes lowly. Richie shrugs the comment off.

‘No worries Eddie Spaghetti,’ he says, even though his heart is racing erratically and all he can think about is don’t ask, don’t ask, please don’t ask.

‘You kept that old thing’, Richie tries to change the subject.

Eddie’s one hand still rest on the pocket of his jacket, where he had stuffed the thing in, his other hand start to shake.

‘Well yeah’, he grumbled, ‘it was the only thing I had left of you.’ His hard eyes look at Richie, like he’s trying to make something clear

‘You didn’t even reply to my letter, and then I forgot, but that ugly old thing always felt important to me.’ Richie’s eyebrows furrow. He has no idea what Eddie is talking about.

‘What letter Eds’, Richie asked bewildered. Eddie looked like he was about to jumps out of his skin. ‘You know what I’m talking about, don’t play dumb. If you didn’t feel the same way you could have at least answered.’

Richie has never in his life been so confused. ‘Eddie,’ he said slowly, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seriously.’ For once in his entire life he was being completely honest and truthful, and he hoped to god Eddie would believe him.

‘You know the letter. The letter in which I was so fucking embarrassing.’ Eddie seems to have started on a rant, his signature hand movement coming up and acting like he’s chopping up vegetables.

‘I thought maybe, because I’m an idiot, that you had feelings for me too. When you gave me the one necklace you wore all the time, which by the way was absolutely disgusting, I couldn’t help but hope that maybe you had a crush on me too.’ He blushes bright red as he speaks the words.

Richie’s brain stutters.

‘But whatever, fine you didn’t, but I specifically asked you to still be my friend if you didn’t feel the same way, and you just gave me a giant fuck you didn’t you.’

Eddie breathes heavy and fast, grasping for air as he calms down. He’s waiting for Richie to say something, but Richie is too busy swooning on his feet to notice it. The silence that follows is long, awkward and suffocating. Eddie doing his best to appear calm and not embarrassed, while Richie is trying to get his brain rebooted.

‘Shit, Rich I’m sorry.’ Eddie continues out of desperation.  ‘I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable again. Shit I’m an idiot. I just hate that you didn’t keep in touch. Why didn’t you? We were best friends.’

Richie’s scared. He’s never been so scared before. The idea of having to admit that he was gay was frightening, but Eddie had just admitted to having a crush on him, and if Eddie had been brave, so could he.

‘you had a crush on me too?’, Richie inquires, though his brain still seems miles away.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, we went over that like 2 seconds ago, keep up with the program. Dumbass.’ he adds like an afterthought. ‘Wait, what do you mean too?’

‘Eds,’ Richie takes a step towards Eddie, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’ Richie wants to place his sweaty hands on Eddie’s shoulder, to ground himself, but also because it’s been too long since he’s touched him.

It’s Eddie’s time to look bewildered, but he does take a step towards Richie too. ‘I did. I wrote you that stupid letter. I knew I shouldn’t have send it, but I did anyway. I figured why not you know? It wasn’t like I would spend everyday with you and constantly feel awkward, because we lived in different cities.’

Richie gingerly places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, worried that might push this too far. He was running on autopilot, his brain fried by the fact that Eddie had liked him back. The boy who he cried about at night, would have wiped his tears away. Luckily, Eddie just reaches up, his hands circling Richie’s upperarms tightly. Richie glances down, Eddie’s hand was so much smaller that his.

‘I never got any letter. Trust me, if I would have known, I would have been in whatever city your mother dragged you off too in less than an hour.’

Richie’s glasses are falling of his nose, but before Richie can push it back up, Eddie has already done it for him. Richie’s knees buckle at the casual domestic action.

‘I don’t get it. I gave that letter to my mom to send in the mail. I glued it shut so the letter didn’t have a change to fall out of the envelope.’

Richie lets out a hearty laugh. ‘Really Eduardo? It may fall out of the fucking envelope?’

Eddie rolled his eyes teasingly, his eyes sparkling with barely suppressed joy. ‘Shut up.’

When Richie began to think about it, a lightbulb switched on in his brain. ‘Eddie, did you say your mom was supposed to mail the letter.’

Eddie nodded his head, not seeing where Richie was going with this. ‘So’, he shrugged.

‘Is there maybe a change she took the letter, and just didn’t send it?’

Eddie started to shake his head adamantly, but the longer he thought thing through, the more he comprehended that Richie may have been right. His mother did hate Richie, she always had, and she had been so weird in the weeks after, up until he forget about the losers and Derry.

‘Shit, fuck.’ He spat, ripping away from Richie’s arms to throw something. He settled on a pillow, because Eddie didn’t want to pay more than he had to in this shithole of Derry. Richie watched him do it with amusement in his eyes.

The pillow hit the wall, failing flat on the floor. It didn’t do anything to diffuse the anger that was rising inside of Eddie. He sank down on the bed, where Richie had previously sat. After a beat, Richie joined him.

‘I can’t believe I was so stupid, I knew she would do something like that. I should have just given you the letter in person, but I was a coward, and all I could think about was that no one could find out that I was gay. When I left it didn’t matter, just for the fact that even if someone else would read the letter, at least than they were unable to judge me.’

Richie bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his softly. ‘You’re not a coward.’ When Eddie gave him an unimpressed look, Richie explained.

‘At least you said something, I was too much of a coward to do anything. I just quietly suffered everyday. When you left I wanted to stay in touch, but I didn’t know your address, and I figured you didn’t want me to either. I had no idea that leaving Derry would mean that we would lose are memory.’

‘I waited by the mailbox for weeks, hoping to see a letter of you in it. And she just knew, that I wouldn’t get an answer. I should have connected the dots, she introduced me to Myra that week and forced me to go on a date with her. She looked so smug when I forgot.’

‘She must have been jalouse you were stealing me away from her.’

‘please with your looks?’ Eddie’s joking, he could never be mean to Richie.

‘It worked on you, against all odds,’ Richie counters, and both of them grin. It’s been a while since Richie has felt so carelessly happy. He didn’t come out an say that he was gay, but now someone knew, besides his mother of course, and that person was accepting. More so, he retaliated those same feelings, Richie just wishes he had known sooner.

‘yeah, it did.’ Eddie isn’t laughing anymore, opting to glance between Richie’s eyes to his lips. Richie’s heartbeat picks up again. He wants to kiss Eddie, but he doesn’t have any proof Eddie still likes him, or wants him to.

Eddie surges forward, connecting their lips from an awkward angle. Their first kiss wasn’t like they claimed in movies, where their was fireworks and a big revelation. Their first kiss was honestly bad, but it didn’t matter to Richie, solely for the fact that he was kissing Eddie Kaspbrak, and that would make up for everything. Kissing Eddie was like coming home.

In the span of the next three seconds, Richie comes to two soul crushing conclusions. The first one is that he hasn’t brushed his teeth, after throwing up, which he knew Eddie was going to throw a fit over. Richie already felt his good mood change. The other thing he registered, was that Eddie had a wife.

It was the cold band of the ring on his finger of the hand that was cupping his cheek, he hadn’t even comprehended that Eddie had his hands over him, that made him register it.

He pulles back with a gasp, Eddie tries to follow his lips for a second, before noticing that Richie was about to speak.

‘Your wife’, Richie breathes out, regret filling every pore on his body. He wishes he was more selfish. Eddie brings his other hand up to cup the other side of Richie’s face, waiting till their eyes meet again.

‘I ca- I don’t’, Eddie huffs, not getting across what he’s trying to stay. He takes a breath and tries again. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen Richie, but I know that I don’t wanna lose this, whatever it is. I don’t want lose my memory again, and forget about the losers. I can’t go back to my wife knowing you’re out here in the world somewhere.’

Eddie’s gaze is soft, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘I’ll divorce her, we’ll figure it out, but Rich I can’t loose this again.’

Richie is, again like many times before this evening, speechless. His eyes prickle, and he has to swallow past a brock in his throat. His hand swipes away part of Eddie’s hair, the feeling of it so soft and smooth Richie doesn’t want to take his hand away. He can’t believe the turn his day has taken.

‘I don’t want to lose you either, but you know what that means right?’ Richie wants to make sure that it is what Eddie wants, for in order to remember each other, they would have to defeat Pennywise, for a second time.

‘I’m not stupid jackass. I’m scared, but as long as we have each other it’ll be alright’, Eddie replies, though Richie can feel his hands beginning to tremble.

‘So, can I kiss you again. I haven’t had such a good kiss since the last time me and your mom went out.’

Eddie smacks him across the head lightly, regretting the fact that he just had to fall in love with Richie fucking Tozier. When he looks at Richie and his goofy smile, and beautiful eyes, Eddie thinks he might not regret it as much after all.

When he goes to lean in however, Richie pulls away again. ‘Oh I forgot, I need to go brush my teeth. I kind off threw up on the way here.’

Richie watches Eddie shudder in disgust, ‘go get your toothbrush now.’ He commands. Richie stands up and salutes. ‘Aye Aye captain Edward.’  

[nemo1230]

Quite unexpected turn of events

Eddie's head was pounding, and he felt like absolute shit. Also for some reason his wrist burned a little. With a lot of effort he opened his eyes, letting the bright morning rays of sun reach his eyes. It stung and he groaned. He turned his head to the side, glancing at the clock standing on the nightstand. Turns out these definitely weren't morning rays of sun but the middle of the day sun rays. This was unusual for him, since he liked to wake up early. But after the whole mess with regaining memories worth 27 years and fighting a demonic clown, he was exhausted, so these past days he did find himself sleeping in quite often. So, that wasn't the odd part about this whole situation.

What was weird, however, was the fact that he felt like he had threw up in his own mouth or something and the annoying ache in his head. But that's how he sometimes felt after a practically bad nightmare, which he had pretty often now. But the thing is, he hadn't had a nightmare, he had actually slept quite well. Also, the weird burning on his wrist was announcing it's presence once again, so he tried to lift his arm to see what the hell is up with it, to be met with the fact that he was unable to move his arm. The reason? The owner of birds nest of hair, huge glasses and most handsome face Eddie had ever seen, laying and drooling right over it. Ah, Richie.

Wait.

Richie as in the very Richie Tozier, his best friend, that he had had a crush on for practically his whole life, was in the same bed with him, cuddling with him? What in the name of god-

Suddenly a very paralyzing thought hit Eddie - had they slept together?! No, that couldn't be, they still had their clothes on, thank god. Not that he didn't want to sleep with Richie, he just simply wanted to remember sleeping with Richie.

Because right now he couldn't properly remember anything. Everything about last night seemed fuzzy, parts of the evening came back him, but he couldn't really piece them together.

He just knew that after defeating Pennywise the losers had left Derry and started to rebuild their lives. Eddie called Mayra and had had probably the most uncomfortable and unpleasant conversation in his entire life, requesting a divorce. He remembers a lot of screaming on her end and a lot of apologizing on his. After that he had went with Richie to LA. A rather harsh and fast decision for his tastes, but then again, after barely escaping death he now felt more at ease, more free, more willing to let go ,to just say fuck it, to not deny himself the things he wanted.

So yeah, he and Richie have been living together for about a month now. One evening they had decided it would be a great idea to invite all the other losers for a sleepover to Richie's apartment.

And it really would have been all fun and games if they wouldn't have gotten drunk out of their minds. But they did, so here Eddie was, left with no memory of last night, a pounding head, and Richie curled up right next to him.

Speaking of the devil, Richie snorted in his sleep, but then groaned and stretched out like a cat, then turned around to face Eddie, eyes still closed. Eddie held his breath while he watched the scene unravel, waiting for the moment Richie would finally come to his senses, probably apologize for falling asleep on him, even though this is his room, because no matter what, he still was a gentleman, and they'd never speak of this incident again.

What happened, however, was not exactly that. Richie opened his eyes, looked at Eddie, flashed him a crooked smile, leaned forward and pecked him right on the lips.

''Mornin', babe.''

Eddie eyes widened and he froze, unable to form a coherent thought. What the hell-

Eddies unresponsiveness finally made Richie register what he had just done. His eyes widened aswell and his mouth hung open, trying to say something, but no sound came out.

They simply stared at each other for a while, probably looking dumb as fuck, until Richie scrambled out of the bed, tripping over the sheets, and run out of the room, murmuring something about needing to take a shower, cheeks red.

Eddies own cheeks were warming up, and his lips felt like they were on fire.

He still tried to recover from what just happened when he heard voices from outside the room. Right, the rest of the losers were still here. Whatever had happened last night, he knew it must be something embarrassing, it always was, and he could already feel the teasing coming. But he had to get out of the room at some point, because his stomach was protesting loudly about the lack of food in him.

Eddie got out of the bed, smoothed out his clothes, run his hand trough his hair, a quite bad attempt to smooth it out, took  a deep breath and pushed the door open.

He was met with bright sunlight and quite the chaos of Richie's living room. Cups and plastic plates were thrown everywhere, as well as pieces of popcorn and m&ms. There were also empty bottles of alcohol and pizza boxes. Eddie scrunched up his nose at the mess and walked trough, heading towards the kitchen, to get a glass of water, hoping to slip past his friends unnoticed, because, okay, maybe he didn't want to face them just yet.

But just as about anything in his life, that didn't work out because a voice stopped him in his tracks.

''Look who's finally up! Eddie, sweetheart, how are you feeling?''

It was Beverly, who was currently tying her hair into a tiny ponytail. She looked just fine, like she hadn't had gotten wasted with them just a few hours prior. She was always the one who took alcohol the best. She also had a mischievous grin on her face that never meant anything good. Oh, lord, help him please.

''Morning, Bev, just peachy, and you? '' He replied, doing an over enthusiastic voice.

''Awh, Eddie, you truly are the lightweight of this family.'' she said, smirking.

''Well, to be fair him and Richie last n-'' Ben, who was currently trying to pick up all the plastic cups off the floor started, but was cut off by Richie entering the living room.

''Sup, hoes, how are we feeling this fine morning?!'' He exclaimed rather loudly. His dark curls were damp from the shower and he had changed into some sweatpants and a sweater. He looked way too good for a 40 year old man, in Eddie's opinion.

Bev completely ignored Richies question, her smirk only growing wider, and said, ''Well, well, well, look who it is. Finally both of the lovebirds have left their love lair, to join us peasants, who clearly aren't worth your time!'' Her voice held no anger, just pure smugness, like she just proved a point, eyes darting from Richie to Eddie and then back.

Richie let out a bark of laughter but Eddie saw a flash of fear in his eyes, but he quickly recovered. ''Bev, honey, what the hell are you talking about? Are you still drunk because – ''

Bev was quick to cut him off, ''Oh, don't play dumb, Rich, you know full well what I'm talking about.''

Eddie saw the rest of the losers trying to hide their laughter, barely holding it in. Expect Stan, who was looking at something on his phone, looking absolutely unbothered by the whole situation.

''No, I actually don't, what is going on, guys?'' Now Richie really did sound confused.

Beverly was about to say something else, when Mike gently interrupted, ''Bev, I think they genuinely don't know,'' he said sympathetically, all the while hiding a smile of his own.

''No, we don't, so would you like to elaborate? '' Eddie finally spoke, dread already setting in his stomach. Whatever had happened last night, the rest of their friends are not going to let them live this down, that's for sure.

Beverly turned to Stan saying, ''Stan, would you like to do the honors?''

Stan then looked up from his phone, fixed Eddie and Richie with an unimpressed look and cleared his throat. ''Gladly. So, as we all remember, Richie and Eddie invited us all to this lovely gathering, completely unsuspecting of the ordeals that would later take place. We all got here, talked, drunk a few glasses of wine and then, this man right here, '' he then gestured to Richie, ''comes up with the brilliant idea, that we should play some games. We decided on truth or dare. So, a lot of stupid dares and alcohol later, it was Richie's turn to choose, truth or dare. He had chosen dare. Ben, here, '' he then gestured to Ben for emphasis, ''came up with this wonderful dare – sing karaoke with one other person of your choice. And that they had to sing whichever song came on next on the radio. So, I think we all can guess which person he chose, but if anybody else here is suffering a memory loss, then he chose Eddie. Eddie, being quite intoxicated himself had agreed. The song they had to sing turned out to be Africa by TOTO. The performance, well, wasn't too great, but we all could feel the intense emotions behind it, so I'd give it a solid 7 out of 10. Anyways, by the end of the song, these two lovely gentlemen shared quite the moment, staring intensely into each others eyes for approximately minute and a half. We all thought a kiss was coming, I personally was about to ask everyone to hand over their money to me, but then suddenly an unexpected turn of events occurred. Richie, while still staring into Eddies eyes loudly exclaimed an offer – and I quote – ''do you want to get matching tattoos'', to which Eddie replied and I quote - ''absolutely''. Then they both hurried to grab their coats, and Richie tried to grab his car keys, to which Eddie screamed –''no, we're both drunk!'', to which Richie replied ''aw shit! '', and then came Eddies reply – ''call a taxi dumbass!''. And that was that.  All of us were shocked to the core, unable to make sense of this sudden occurrence. When the shock wore off, we decided to check on you two. At first, none of you answered your phones, but then, when logging onto social media we quite quickly learned that you two are just fine. On Instagram Richie had posted these pictures,'' the he proceeded to quickly tap something on his phone and then held it up. On the screen, he had opened Richies instagram account and a picture in which Eddie could be seen in the taxi, laughing at something. Then, when everyone had looked at the picture, Stan swiped left, revealing a second picture in which him and Eddie were holding up their intertwined hands, Eddie showing a peace sign with this free hand, both looking absolutely wasted. But the worst part was the caption, which read ''lmao i want to climb him like a tree'' with a tree emoji and the rain/water drop emoji, which in its whole history had never been used to describe rain or water. Eddie was pretty sure his cheeks had never felt this hot in his entire life.

Richie was about to say something, but then Stan snatched the phone away, held up his finger, silencing him and continued, '' Anyway, after that we knew you two were completely fine, aswell as I could finally successfully collect the money we all bet on you two. However, unfortunately that's not where it ended. Later, we went on Twitter and noticed that Richie had tweeted and I quote - ''yoo bitches heres some tea i have the big homo for eddie spagethii oof sksks'' and then made several other tweets which only contained Eddies Twitter handle. Eddie had replied with only Richies twitter handle. I think that's all. Oh wait, right, Richie commented on all of Eddies Instagram posts with things like 'damn daddy' or 'what a piece of ass' '',Stan said while doing air quotes. ''Okay, I think that would be all.''

Finally, after Stans dramatic summery of their last nights adventures, the memories finally came back. The singing, the posting all those dumb things, the kissing on street, kissing at the back of a taxi, kissing, kissing… Eddie had never been this embarrassed in this life. He already predicted that whatever they had done last night would be bad, but not this much.

Even Richie seemed at loss of words. His eyes were wide and even his cheeks were in a blushing shade of pink.

''I tweeted that?!'' He then shouted.

''And got it trending,'' Stan replied, pointing at him.

''And got it trending?!'' Richie repeated, still screaming.

Now, that the bomb had been dropped, the rest of the losers stopped trying to hold back their laughter.

Richie and Eddie then shared a hopeless look. Richie snorted and Eddie did too and held his hand over his mouth. Richie crossed the room, coming to stand next to Eddie.

''Well, those really are some unexpected turns of events, Eds. '' He said, a sweet smile now decorating his face.

Eddie signed, ''I've never been more embarrassed in my life.''

''Looks like I didnt even do anything wrong when we woke up, '' he smirked, '' Also, while I must admit that this was not how I imagined confessing my feelings to you, I am happy that I did anyway.'' He said, slowly reaching for Eddies hand.

Eddie took it, and intertwined their fingers. ''Yeah, me too.. '' Then a sudden itch on his wrist reminded him of something. He quickly let go of Richies hand and pushed up the sleeve of his sweater.  

There, on his skin, now lay R+E in simple writing and black ink. He simply started at the letters until Richie pushed his own wrist next to his. He had the same simple letters, only in switched places – E+R.

Eddie looked at the tattoos and was surprised that he didn't regret it. Even though they had gotten them while being completely wasted, he still felt no shame, no regret about that. He smiled and looked up, into Richies eyes. ''They're kinda cute. ''

''You think so? I was thinking maybe I could add '+ Eddie's mom' -''

Eddie only rolled his eyes. ''Beep-beep Richie.'' He then signed and intertwined their hands once again and leaned into his side.

The embarrassment was still burning a hole in him, but despite it all, he felt content. For the first time in so long, he felt good.

[kingwallywest-blog]

Guys like us don’t get the girl.

But sometimes they do.

P.S. Cannot send enough thank yous to the anon who told me about the wayback archive. I was able to find this fic! It was one of my first WA fics. I forgot how much I loved writing it.

Maybe it’s the reality check he needs. Maybe he should let Iris live her life and he can quietly step to the side, as both Barry and the Flash (Caitlin’s advice also lingering in his mind too often). Maybe Iris doesn’t need him around as much anymore.

So he avoids her for a few days, just to see if she notices.

Of course Iris notices. She’s not happy about it, either.

And like that, she draws him back into her life after only a four day separation. There’s a sense of relief that he feels when he concludes they’re two peas in a pod, yin and yang, two sides of the same coin. Practically joined at the hip, and she doesn’t need him around - she wants him around, which is all the more satisfying.

Even if they only remain friends, he’ll love her. Even if she stays with Eddie, he’ll be in love with her. Even if she decides to continue down the dangerous path of being an investigative journalist, he’ll support her. Protect her, though Iris has shown him one too many times during their lives that her left hook is finely tuned (“Don’t let my small arms fool you, Barry. I’ll knock him out cold if he picks on you again!”).

Barry finds himself unable to stay away; he doesn’t want to stay away but Caitlin keeps giving him these knowing yet disapproving looks when he returns to the lab with what she describes as a “dumb, love-struck smile.” He pointedly ignores the rest of her rant about how he’s sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, that, in the end, he’s making it harder for both himself and Iris.

(He also pointedly ignores how right she is, and that sinking feeling he gets every time he’s reminded.)

* It’s Christmas night when Eddie proposes to Iris, with both Joe and Barry in company.

And between the three of them, Barry can’t tell who is more surprised.

Iris, a hand covering her mouth and her eyes unwavering from Eddie’s.

Joe, speechless and frozen, and maybe even a little confused.

Barry, with the breath knocked out of him and heart breaking loud enough for Joe to hear.

Joe’s hand reaches for his shoulder and gives him a hard squeeze, a gesture that Barry would usually take great comfort in, but now feels like heavy bricks weighing down. Then Joe turns and plays the role of excited father.

"Barry, there’s champagne in the cooler. Do you might grabbing it?" Eddie asks him, a blinding smile on his face that is noticeably missing from Iris’s - maybe still in shock - and Barry does what any best friend would do.

He congratulates her and her fiancé.

* Barry’s sort of glad Caitlin is refraining from saying “I told you so,” but she’s also been too busy with her own problems to really rub the salt in his wounds.

Like the fact that the man she had been mourning for a year is back from the dead. As some torched resemblance of a human being no less.

All of Central City is shaping up to be a cliché comic book, featuring meta-humans, time traveling, and all-too-complicated love stories.

Figures he’d be the star of it.

But all of what’s happening with Ronnie and his mother’s murderer gives him a decent distraction from Iris. Barry isn’t sure if he’s disappointed or relieved that she hasn’t talked to him about the proposal yet. It seems that they’ve both been keeping their distances from each other.

It’s probably best that way, he tells himself. Because soon she’ll be Mrs. West-Thawne.

* “I can’t marry him.”

Iris barely steps into his apartment before she’s rambling off.

"I can’t do it! I should have told him the night he gave me the ring. But he looked so happy! What right do I have to take his happiness away like that? And my dad, God, my dad! Barry, did you see his face? He was going to cry from joy! What kind of terrible daughter would I be if I took that from him? He’s probably already named all of the grandchildren he thinks Eddie and I are going to have, but we’re not - “

"Woah, what are - "

" - because I don’t love him." Iris takes a deep breath, and Barry can see the tears brimming in her eyes. He marvels at her ability to have kept everything bottled up for that long.

Then he begins to worry.

"Iris," Barry begins carefully. He’s unsure of where to begin, as his brain is still trying to process her confession, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you want me to make coffee?"

There’s a stillness, and then Iris laughs, a hiccup getting caught in her throat that makes Barry laugh too, until she’s nodding through her tears and he’s pulling her in his arms.

"My coffee isn’t that bad," he mutters into her hair when she’s quieted down after a few minutes, and he’s fully prepared for the punch she gives his chest.

Iris is smiling at least, so he finds himself smiling back. He cups her cheek and traces the wet trails on her face with his thumb, drying what he can.

"If you don’t want to marry him, then don’t. No one has ever told Iris Ann West what to do," he says, which pleases her plenty if by the way she sighs and leans into his touch is any indication.

"This is why you’re the best man in my life," she tells him. Barry tries not blush or stutter, but he knows he’s failing.

"Because I give good advice or because I’m not even mildly annoyed that you were banging on my door at 5:30 on a Saturday morning?" he teases.

"Oh my god, is it really that early? I am so sorry - "

"It’s okay." He means it. "I’m glad you’re here." So very much means it.

He thinks that when she looks up at him this time, it’s different. He can’t quite place why, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that he’s never seen before.

At least not directed towards him. And he can get lost in that look for days, he knows by the way it fires heat through his body, one nerve at a time.

Barry clears his throat and takes a step back. “Let me get that coffee started.”

"Yeah," Iris blinks up at him, seemingly as unsure about the last few moments as he is. "Good idea."

In the kitchen, during the couple of minutes he had to himself, he wonders if these are the kind of changes Felicity was talking about.

*

Barry decides that these are definitely the changes Felicity was talking about.

They’re subtle changes, but still…changes. Like how Iris looks at him; that same one from the other morning in his hallway, as though with renewed interest. How she acts around him; she’s touching him more, and while Iris has always been one for physical contact, there’s something almost - sensual about it now. Fingers grazing, close personal space shoulder-bumping, her hand lingering in areas he knows defined muscle has formed.

Barry thinks, and he could potentially and disastrously be overthinking it, that Iris is even flirting with him. And to be honest, he’s not sure how to respond to it.

"This is the moment you’ve been waiting for, dude. Super hot girl that you’ve been in love with is acting on mutual attraction! What’s your problem?" Cisco gapes at him during one of their ping pong games.

"My problem," Barry hits the ball back to the other side, "is that I’m not good at these kinds of things. Flirting and being charming and - I’m just not the guy who gets the girl."

Cisco rolls his eyes. “You’ve flirted with her before. Do I need to remind you of your guys’ rooftop days? Please don’t make me remind you of your rooftop days.”

"You’re forgetting that I went to her as the Flash. The Flash is much cooler than I am, trust me."

"The fact that you’re referring to yourself as an alter ego is slightly alarming," Caitlin comments from the corner where she’s piecing together the map of Ronnie’s possible whereabouts. "I’ve told you before, you are incredible and amazing with or without the speed, Barry. And Iris knows that."

Barry puts his paddle down, smirking at Caitlin’s back. “Someone’s changed her tune.”

Caitlin glares over her shoulder and it promptly shuts him up.

*

Any doubts Barry may have had about Iris’s intentions is cleared when Joe approaches him with a smile too giddy and curious for any cop or father to have.

"What’s going on with you two?"

Barry doesn’t know how to best phrase that Iris is seemingly reciprocating the emotional, romantic, and sexual feelings he’s ever had for her so he grins and says, “Progressing one day at a time.”

Joe pats him on the back. “You two were made for each other, Barry.”

Barry is starting to believe it.

* The words sort of tumble from his mouth by accident.

Iris had tried to surprise him with a homemade birthday dinner, and he was alarmed to find his front door unlocked that he completely startled her when she was lighting the candles on the table.

The table caught on fire…

…and then dinner burned while they were putting the fire out.

That’s when he tells her, in his moment of slight panic. “I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Barry’s half-expecting Iris to get mad at him or get away as soon as possible, but she smiles and closes the space between them.

"I know. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out."

He’s about to tell her that she shouldn’t be sorry for anything, but she presses up on her toes and pulls him down for a kiss.

All else melts from his thoughts when she glides her tongue against his lips.

Barry can’t remember what happens after that, oddly enough, but then Iris tells him the next morning it’s because he passed out and hit his head pretty hard.

Totally worth it.

* “This came in the mail today,” Thea says, handing Oliver the envelope. “Looks like a wedding invite.”

Oliver pulls the gold trimmed letter open and feels the corners of his mouth spreading into one of his rare smiles.

We are delighted to invite you to the wedding ceremony of Bartholomew Henry Allen and Iris Ann West.

…

…

…

P. S. I got the girl.

[chokeonmydickgrayson]

Headcanon #13

How the Batfam would react on your birthday

Dick:

You hate your birthday immensely. It’s just another ordinary day of the year, so much so that most people tended to forget it was your birthday all together, everyone except Dick.

He’d make the entire day about what you want, what you needs, and what you desire. He’d start your birthday morning off by allowing you to sleep in, he leaving the bed so not to disturb you. God knows you could sleep for days if left alone. On his way out of the room he’d brush your hair from your forehead and press his lips lightly to your temple before leaving. Your body would be appreciative as you flounder yourself around on the bed enjoying the newly opened territory for your arms and legs to spread out creating a starfish effect.

He’d spend the morning cooking a fresh stack of fluffy and light chocolate chip pancakes, topped with your favorite type of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream, one singular birthday candle of your favorite color place dead center. The plate didn’t look the nicest, nor did it look appetizing but he did do his best and after all it was always the thought that counts.

Once done cooking you breakfast there would be a mess of dishes in the sink, along with a sticky mess of eggs flour and syrup on the counters, which he claims he’ll clean late. (Most likely you’d end up cleaning most of it. Dick would probably give you a not so helpful hand however. He’d probably be more interest in slapping your rear end with a twisted towel and playfully nibbling your cheeks, but that was a later issue.) He’d bring a tray into bedroom, it holding the pancakes as well as a glass of orange juice and a birthday card. “Babe....babe....baby!....Y/N!” Youre eyes would flash open at the sound of your name, your body snapping straight up as you clutch at your chest in panic. “What? What’s wrong?...” you’d pant short of breath from the terror you’d just endored. He’d smile and sneak his lips right up against yours, spreading as much love and passion as he could through the kiss, your lips making a quiet pop as he pulled away and placed the tray on your lap. “happy birthday baby, I’ve semi successfully made you breakfast in bed. I’m sorry they look a little sloppy” he’d nervously laugh rubbing his neck. “I uh, I was trying to shape them like little hearts but clearly that didn’t work, so they’re uh more like little butts....” you’d probably snort and laugh at the comparison you definitely seeing what he means. Your non dominant hand would reach for his hand as you ate away at the pancakes every so often holding the fork up for him to share. They honestly really were delicious despite their looks. You smile and gently tap the bedding next to you motioning for him to sit. He willingly oblige and set himself down next to you.

After breakfast was done, he would gather your favorite movies and games and hook everything up in the bedroom. You two would spend all day laughing and cuddling (though after you defeated him in Mario Kart by throwing that turtle shell at him, your relationship was slightly wounded, but not enough to stop the festivities.)

During the movies things between you and Dick would heat up, his fingers dancing at the mouth of your pants before sliding down them, making for one very large distraction. You probably wouldn’t even focus on the movie from that point on. The rest of the day would consist of you two participating in a series of on again off again sexual activities. It would be perfect, the exact birthday you’d want. To spend time with someone who loves you. You’d appreciate all the little efforts Dick went through to make this day special for you.

Jason:

You would dread opening your eyes. Every year when your birthday rolled around you did your absolute best to ignore it, you wouldn’t even bring it up to anyone. In fact you avoided most people because you didn’t wanna hear the phony well wishes and the fake insincere “happy birthdays!”. You’d try to take some advantages of your special day however, maybe by trying to catch some extra Z’s or by attempting to stay in bed all day, nothing too over the top.

So when Jason wakes you up early by wrapping those thick muscular arms around your waist while those strong rough palms of his traveling up your torso to caress and hug the curves of your chest, your slightly unamused. You would just want some rest. You’d give out a soft groan, to which he’d lean himself into your ear while his hand traveled down the insides of your arms to land itself into your palms, his fingers treading around your own as he whispered “sorry baby I didn’t mean to wake you....I just wanted to be the first one wish MY girl a happy birthday.”

Your heart would stop in your chest your hand squeezing his tightly, almost annoyed that he knew. How did he fucking know it was your birthday? You’d never told him “who told you? I wanna know so i can rip their tongue out through their nostrils” you’d growl out to which he’d be highly confused. His hand would release from yours his arms opening so he could easily reposition your bodies so you would face him. Those deadly blue eyes of his would lock on with yours and scan every inch of them. “I found the information by myself thank you very much. Come on Y/N, you think I woulda let some woman I don’t know for shit into my bed? I know the sayings keep your friends close enemies closer but for fucks sake babe I’m not trying to get myself offed. A lot of people in this town want me dead, I had to make sure you weren’t one of em’. I did some snooping and I found out your birthday....I didn’t think you’d have a god damn fucking fit about it.” You’d sigh and collapse your body into his, your nose rubbing softly against his jawline you inhaling his scent before placing soft kisses along his neck. “I....don’t really like to celebrate my birthday alright? Ive got some jacked up memories locked away nice and tight in this loon bin up here, and I’m not quite ready to set them free.” Your arms would move to seek comfort around his torso, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Truthfully Jason would understand, he couldn’t disagree about that whole high priority list of shitty birthdays and top level disappointment they brought. He’d wrap his arms securely around you, his legs spreading apart to consume your body between them, he pressing kisses to your temple. “Well, I guess there goes my big plan for today out the windows” Youd feel almost guilty for throwing such a fit. It was clear Jay had something planned for the two of you....”What cockamamie shit fest did you have in store for today Jay” you’d sighe reluctantly. You should at least hear him out if your gonna shoot the man down. He clicked his tongue against his teeth sucking down a breath in aggravation “well i WAS gonna take you down to Eddies where we met and I WAS buy you a few birthday beers, and maybe recreate the night we met...but hey ya don’t wann celebrate your birthday fine by me” he huffed out his voice starting to draw softer as he finished his sentences. He’d gotten himself caught up in reliving that night. Best day of his life....you tried to hustle him for money and when he attempted to take it back you nearly broke his god damn nose. It was the hottest fucking thing ever. He ended up buying you a drink, and after a few of them you ended up back at his place, naked with him in bed. Ever since then he’s been hooked on you in every way. Just everything about you, your attitude, your determination, your guts, and especially that right hook of yours turned his knees weak and capture his heart. “We’ll just sit here and you can fucking pout one out for all I care. Excuse my ass for trying to be a good boyfriend”

Riddled with guilt you’d let your finger tips ghost over the sides of his neck, your hands moving to his rest on his cheeks as you pulled him closely stealing a soft kiss from him. That all sounded like the best birthday you could ever wished for. You press yourself into the kiss turning the intensity up, humming as you feel the sensation of his hands grip onto your waist. He’d lock your hips together, causing you to break the kiss with a disappointed sigh, fingers gently rubbing against his stubble “I guess where going to the bar for my birthday.....but if you start singing, I’m gonna slap your lips right off your face and I’m leaving you there”

Tim:

Truthfully you’d almost wanna avoid Tim, you knew he’d most likely figured out your birthday by this point in your relationship. How couldn’t he have? He was the smartest man you’d ever met and one hell of a great detective. Figuring out your birthday for him must of been child’s play. You’d sigh and strech yourself out shuffling your way to the kitchen where’d you’d find a plate of scrambled eggs (Tims speciality. Honestly it was the only thing he knew how to make. Everything else ended in a gelatinous molten mess that requires an emergency team to extinguish). He’d smile and look up at you “hey babe, I made us some breakfast...i call it le scrambled eggo and le orange juice!” He grin attempting (and failing) some weird cross between a French and Italian accent, complete with equally failing hand gestures. You’d give a snort and gently nudge his side with a giggle, though this wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary. He made breakfast for you two virtually every morning, (well every morning that you didn’t mind eating eggs) had he not figured out your birthday?

You continue to go through your daily routines together, the entire ordeal seeming very.....ordinary? There was no sense of suprise, nothing that struck you as special....just an ordinary day? You can’t help but feel a little saddened by it, though genuinely what did you expect your birthday was always a defeated reflection of just how well things always turned out for you.

You’d grumble to yourself while your body pressed into his on the couch, you two watching a bit of television together. He’d sling his arms around the back of the couch, one arm moving to slide around your shoulder. His hands would begin to gently message and rub the exposed flesh of your upper arm as his lips would move in to press against yours. Honestly a little hurt by his inability to figure out your birthday, (petty yes, but god damn it was your birthday and regardless of if you liked it or not he should have at least figured out it was your birthday and wished well beings today.) Your shoulders scrunch and you turn your head away from Tim. Instantly his chest aches as he looks at you with those broken puppy eyes, he having nothing but confusion written across those strong handsome facial features. “Hey what was that about? Did I do something wrong?...” You’d shake your head and push his arm off of your shoulder. A pout would press its way firmly across to lips sagging the corners of your mouth down. “Tim do know what to day is?” He’d look at you with a raised brow, most likely thinking you were having some crazy mood swing. “Moooonday?..”

You’d roll your eyes and gather yourself from the couch, storming off to the bedroom slamming the door shut behind you. All you wanted was to just curl up and cry at this point, though you were unsure as to why you cared so much about this whole not figuring out your birthday deal. It’s not like you liked your birthday. You’d let your back slump against the door with a single upset sigh. Tim would immediately chase after you, hands moving to twist the door knob and shove the door open. “y/n can you just talk to me instead of storming away please? I’ll take full responsibility for whatever it is I’ve done, I’m an asshole, I’m a dirt bag I’m some other third thing girls scream when they’re made at their boyfriends-“ to which you’d cut him off by screaming “dick!” He’d huff and cross his arms “did Dick do something to upset you? I’ll kill him, I’m pretty sure Bruce likes me more anyway. I’m sure I could get Batman to stall police commissioner Gordon and that’ll take the heat off of me for a while and give me time to get us outta Gotham-“ You’d groan and swing the door open, your eyes glossed with a layer of tears “Dick didn’t do anything wrong! I’m calling you a dick because you didn’t....you didn’t wish me a happy birthday. I know I didn’t tell you but, I just...I don’t know I figured-“

He’d cut you off lips pressing against yours to silence your hysterics starting. “I did know....I knew today was your birthday, but I acted like I didn’t know.” You almost feel the anger boiling with in you as you shove him away, he sensing your anger. With wide eyes he’d hold his hands up quickly trying to explain “I didn’t say anything to you because I also know you don’t like your birthday babe! I didn’t want to make a big deal of it...” His hands would move to yours he locking your grips together as he pulled you closer “I didn’t honesty mean to hurt your feelings, you know I’d never do that intentionally....I’m sorry I fucked up. I shoulda said something at least. I was just going to keep things light and casual today, make it like every other day. Let me make this up to you? I know today was a giant swing and a miss, but what if we salvage the rest of tonight...” His lips would move to suction against your neck, palms releasing yours to ghost gently around to your back side “and in the morning well redo the entire day, I’m talking breakfast in bed, maybe something birthday-ish like a muffin, then I’ll take you out into town for dinner and a movie. Afterwords we can head down town to your favorite store and I’ll let you pick out whatever you want....”

You smile at the idea, lips parting to let a soft gasp pass your lips as his hands press into your rear, fingers gently digging into the meat and lifting your cheek. Your body would move instinctively into his palms your lips hovering above his own now you whispering out a single “please...” before allowing your body to fold into his touch. He’d hum and lift you into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist easily carrying you to the bedroom. You can damn sure bet that he made true on that promise. He lavished your body until you begged him for mercy, and when morning came did the best to recreate the perfect day he should have done in the first place. God why were women so complicated, next year he was just gonna ask you what you wanted.

Bruce:

He’d wake you up nice and early, his lips moving to take your earlobe between them. He’d gently suck at the flesh, hands moving to run tenderly across your body’s natural curvature he whispering into your ear with that deep gruffy morning voice of his “hmm happy birthday darling...I’ve got a lot planned for today. We gotta get a move on though it’s time to get up. I want to take your for brunch and afterwords we need to make a stop at Wayne Tower. I’ve gotta pick up something from my office.” Groggily you’d roll yourself over to face him, your hands blindly searching to hold his face, thumbs brushing the quickly growing morning stubble that scuffed his cheeks. “Hm...it’s my birthday Mr. Wayne, don’t you think I should decide what we do?” you all but pur, lower body moving to press against his. Your toes would gently brush against his shins as you move to slip your leg between his. He’d let out a soft hum, hands falling to your thigh, hooking it up closer on his hip. Those big palms of his would rub gently at the underside of your thigh he softly patting the area. “Ordinarily I’d let you have your way, but we need to get a move on things. I promised Lucious I wouldn’t be by the office to late, he has somewhere to be tonight” This response would warrant an aggravated sigh as you threw your head back with a pout. He’d give a chuckle gently pressing kisses to the exposed part of your neck just under your chin. “You can have your way all you want tonight Y/N. Trust me, if our schedule wasn’t so air tight today, I would stay here in this bed with you all day”

Reluctantly you’d manage an agreement to go along with the daily schedule. Now you were grumpy because you had to get dressed for brunch and because you have to stop at Wayne tower. (You knew “going to Wayne Tower to see Lucious” meant he had to play Batman for a while. Sometimes you hated that stupid cowl.) Brunch with Bruce Wayne meant this was most likely not a place where jeans and your typical choice in shirt were acceptable. No for this place a beautiful black floral maxi dress would do. It’d drape your body, a slit clean up the side just about to mid thigh. The sleeves would be short, just capping the tops of your shoulders. Your wrist would be decorated with silver bracelets including the stunning white gold charm bracelet Bruce got you for your anniversary last year. You cherished it, not because of its monetary value, but because of the way he locked it onto your wrist and kissed the top of your hand whispering “I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you to the ends of this world and back Y/N.” You sigh at the memory.

You’d play along and accompany Bruce to brunch. Admittedly you weren’t too upset seeing as to how delicious everything was and hey, who could be against alcohol in the morning? You two managed to kill off a few hours of your day at brunch the time being 3 in the afternoon. The car pulled up to Wayne Towers, he moving to open your door. “I promise we’ll be quick, then we can go home. I think Al’s making your favorite for dinner tonight” he’d laugh. You two would make it to his office, you surprised. To your surprise he wasn’t stretching the truth when he said it would be a quick trip to Wayne tower. Lucious would smile and give you hug, extending a very happy birthday from the Fox family. You’d smile and accept. It’s taken about an hour for the entire meeting between the two, Bruce smiling back at you as he extended a hand out for you. “Come on we’ve gotta get home, Alfreds asking where we are” he hummed.

You two would arrive home after about another hour, for some reason Bruce had decided to take the longer route home than normal, though you didn’t think much of it. You were mesmerized by the hold of his hand on yours and the way his thumbs gently grazed your knuckles. By the time you two would pull up to the Manor it’s be around 5. All you wanted to do was go upstairs change out of this god forsaken dress and rip Bruce out of that tantalizingly tight pink button up he wore (he matching the flowers on your dress) and make your way with him just as you intended to this morning. When you open the door you begin to pull your hair out of a pony tail, your fingers releasing the elastic hair tie sending it flying across the room as your body flinched in shock at the massive change in volume as everyone in the house screamed “SUPRISE!” You look around heart racing out of your chest, Damian holding a camera to your face “I don’t know father, I think she looks more terrified than surprised.” He’d say half heartedly throwing the camera at Dick. The boys would smile and one by one come over and press a kiss to your cheek and give you a hug “happy birthday Y/N” of course Dick being the brown nose he is would smile and hit you with the “You don’t look a day over 20” to which Tim would interject with “ah, 21. Hey a girls gotta be able to drink at least.” At first you’d be a little furious at the party but at second glance you thought it was sweet. Bruce’s boys, Al, Lucious and his family. All your friends and loved ones in one spot. You’d give a smile and lean in close to Bruce softly kissing at his cheek “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble baby, I would have been fine with a romantic night in bed together” to which he’d smile and coil an arm around your waist and chuckle “don’t worry after cake and once Lucious and the boys all leave I’m yours, you can for lack of better terms ride me until one of us breaks” he whisper with a wink.

[reddieforlove-archive-blog]

Neighbors

When Eddie made the decision to move back in with his mother after her heart attack, he expected many things. In a lot of ways, it was far different from his childhood. They couldn’t afford a house so they lived in an apartment. His mother no longer had the energy to oversee and micromanage his every move, so she settled with whining and guilting him from her place in the armchair. But Eddie had the ability to walk out whenever he needed, as a legal adult, though he didn’t take advantage of that opportunity nearly as much as he should have.

Eddie knew that his mother would try to control him. He knew that it would be hard not to let her. It was a near constant battle of trying not to submit to her determined influence, telling himself that he was in control of his own actions. But of all the ways he anticipated expressing his independence, finding himself bent over the next door neighbor’s kitchen counter with his clothes strewn about the floor and two long fingers working him open as Eddie pressed his palm over his mouth was not a situation that he ever could have predicted.

And yet here he was.

Richie Tozier was a wrench. He threw every carefully laid plan out the window from the moment he laid eyes on Eddie and bluntly complimented his ass with a wink. Eddie dismissed him as an asshole at first, flushing with anger at being taunted and letting him know just how little he appreciated it. But Richie was not put off. It took two and a half months for Eddie to start wondering if maybe Richie meant what he said. If maybe he wasn’t just having a good laugh at the expense of his neighbor.

Eddie tested his theory one day when his mother was at the doctor, pressing a light kiss to Richie’s lips in the mail room. He barely made it two steps away, embarrassment rising in his chest, before Richie had him pressed to the wall of mailboxes, kissing him deeply and thoroughly until they were both trembling with desire. Richie gave him a hand job in that same room that very same day. It was hard to stop after that. Each encounter left Eddie feeling more addicted, like he just couldn’t get enough of Richie’s touch.

That was only the beginning.

He had a long list of excuses for his absences. Work kept him late. The computer system was down at their favorite grocery store. Traffic was traffic, as it always was in Manhattan. Anything to find his way to Richie. Anything to lose himself in pleasure for just a few hours. To own a part of himself that his mother could never control. So here he was, after promising her that he would get the laundry done. It wasn’t a complete lie. The clothes were on a very thorough cycle. It helped that Richie had a washing machine and dryer in his apartment. It saved Eddie a trip to the laundromat.

“You with me, baby?” that low, husky voice asked from behind him.

Eddie nodded, not daring to let his hand fall away. The walls weren’t all that thin but he wasn’t willing to take the chance that his mother may hear, even if she was probably taking a nap. Richie curled his fingers just right, brushing over that sweet spot deep inside, and Eddie let out a muffled whine as he pressed back into Richie’s hand, wordlessly begging for more.

“Look at you,” Richie murmured, stroking his his free hand over Eddie’s hip. “So responsive. I fucking love those little noises you make.”

A third finger pressed in alongside the other two and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, loving the delicious stretch and how Richie knew just what he needed. The slow rhythm of his fingers in and out, twisting and curling and scissoring, was enough to make Eddie’s knees shake and his lower belly coil with tight, hot pleasure. Eddie gripped at the counter with his free hand, canting his hips back and fucking himself on Richie’s fingers, earning a low noise of approval from the man behind him. Then those fingers pulled out, Richie’s thumb brushing teasingly over his rim when a noise of protest passed Eddie’s lips.

“I got you, Eds,” he promised.

Eddie’s cheeks, though already warm, flushed even more at his words as he heard the sound of a foil packet tearing and the bottle of lube popping open. He’d told Richie more than once not to call him that but it never stuck. Now Eddie was resigned to it, a fact that delighted Richie. In the deepest recesses of his mind, though he would never admit it aloud, Eddie knew that he really didn’t hate the nickname all that much. But Richie didn’t need the encouragement.

“You’re so damn beautiful, you know that?” Richie asked, draping over Eddie’s back for just a moment to press a kiss to his shoulder.

Whatever response Eddie had prepared, though his hand still covered his mouth, faded away when he felt the head of Richie’s cock nudging at his ass. Then he pressed in slowly, inch by inch, letting them both feel every moment of it. Eddie’s palm slapped to the counter as his mind lost all sense or concern for where he was. A low moan and gasp of Richie’s name fell from his lips as he bottomed out, filling Eddie to the brim with his thick length. Eddie trapped his lower lip in his teeth, breathing in and out through his nose as Richie stroked at his hips and kneaded his ass while they both got used to the feeling.

Then Richie pulled out slowly, almost all the way out, before sliding back into him at the same pace. A hoarse moan fell from Eddie’s lips. Richie did it again, and twice more after that, each time pulling noises out of him that he tried desperately and unsuccessfully to cover. He could practically feel Richie’s satisfaction with each sound he made, especially when the other man stroked his knuckles down Eddie’s spine and repeated the slow thrust of his hips. Eddie made no move to stop him, angling his hips back to meet his movements as pleasure sparked through his body.

“That’s right,” Richie murmured, the slightest strain in his voice. “You like more, don’t you? Hard and fast?”

Eddie let out a shaky breath, releasing his lip from the abuse of his teeth.

“Rich,” he said, letting his eyes fall closed as he finally spoke. “Please…I need…I-I…oh fuck…fuck me.”

As soon as he spoke the words, Richie didn’t waste a moment before picking up the pace and Eddie was lost in pleasure. With every moan and cry that filled the air, he could only pray that they wouldn’t be heard. Richie let out his own fair share of noises. He never lacked in words. Eddie knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. He had no issue praising everything he could think of, letting loose words of appreciation for how well they fit, how good Eddie was doing, how beautiful he looked. Eddie would be a liar if he pretended to dislike it, knowing full well that Richie’s words brought a pleased flush to his cheeks as he met him thrust for thrust as hot pleasure pooled low in his belly.

“So good for me, aren’t you Eds? Taking my cock so well. I wish you could see it like this but you can feel it, can’t you baby? How perfect it is?”

“Richie,” Eddie whined, arching his back just slightly as he pressed his palms to the counter. “P-please…need…need more…”

Richie pulled out of him suddenly and Eddie let out a protesting noise just before he was pulled to stand and turned around. They didn’t waste any time before dropping down to the floor. Eddie could barely contemplate the last time it had been cleaned, knowing Richie’s lack of motivation quite well, before he was being arranged over the other man’s lap. He reached back, knowing without words what Richie wanted from him, lining up with the head of his cock before sinking down. They both let out soft moans, and in Richie’s case a few curses, as he bottomed out even deeper than before.

Then Richie was pulling Eddie almost all the way off before planting his feet on the tile, forcing Eddie’s legs further apart as he began thrusting up into him. Breathless moans and cries fell from his lips as Eddie braced his hands on Richie’s chest and stared down into his eyes with a heavy-lidded gaze. The blunt head of Richie’s cock brushed over his prostate every few thrusts, sending shocks of pleasure running through him as he tried to find a matching rhythm. It didn’t take long for a light sheen of sweat to cover his skin as Eddie began riding Richie desperately, reaching between them to stroke at his own cock.

“Oh fuck,” Richie moaned out, seizing his hips and guiding his movements. “I could fucking look at you like this forever, Eddie. You’re like a goddamn dream.”

Eddie dug his carefully clipped nails into Richie’s chest as he trapped his cries behind firmly pressed lips. He saw frustration and need pass over Richie’s face and knew that he wasn’t the only one who was close to release. Eddie reached out, pulling at his shoulder desperately as he tried to find the words for what he wanted. But, as always, Richie knew without being told and sat up, his hands pressing over Eddie’s heated back as he coaxed him into a kiss. They moved in tandem, Richie’s hand falling to Eddie’s cock as Eddie bounced up and down with no regard for the aching burn in his muscles.

His hand lifted, fisting in Richie’s hair and tugging sharply, drawing a muffled groan from the other man. Then Richie’s thumb brushed over his leaking slit and he ducked his heat, nipping at Eddie’s throat, and that was all it took for the tight coil to release as waves of pleasure rushed over him, making Eddie’s entire body quiver as he tossed his head back to the ceiling and spilled out over Richie’s hand. He barely had time to feel the oversensitive ache before Richie was coming too, rocking up into Eddie as he spilled into the condom. Eddie’s forehead dropped to Richie’s shoulder as he fought to catch his breath, pleasured tremors still running through him every so often.

Richie stroked gently fingers over his back, pressing kisses to his temple. He was always uncharacteristically quiet in the minutes after they finished, cooling down in each other’s arms without pulling away. Eddie loved it because he felt like Richie was the most vulnerable in moments like this, when their limbs grew heavy and their bodies ached for closeness that they easily gave into. He pressed a kiss over Richie’s collarbone and relished in the shiver that Richie gave in return, knowing full well that he affected the other man just as much as he was affected.

“One day,” Richie said quietly, nuzzling at Eddie affectionately with warmth and hope mingling in his tired voice. “One day we won’t have to hide, baby. I promise”

Eddie closed his eyes, an image taking shape in his mind of that day. He could only hope it would come soon.

“One day,” he repeated.

[hexensalbei]

do i wanna know

Hi! This fic is heavily inspired by this post (i love you!) and wonderful @on-maars who agreed to beta-read this (she writes too! sooo go visit her blog and ao3 and show her some love!) Enjoy! ❤

Find it on ao3.

Itʼs a very boring, slow shift. Theyʼve been on a few ordinary calls, no dramas this time. Oh, theyʼre not complaining—actually itʼs nice and refreshing that LA for once seems to be careful. It doesnʼt happen often so the 118 really is grateful for this peaceful and sleepy evening. The station is silent. Theyʼd eaten Bobbyʼs macʼnʼcheese earlier (it tasted like heaven) and then most of the team decided to take a nap. Bobbyʼs sitting in the kitchen, talking quietly with Athena on the phone. Theyʼre planning another Grant-Nash family dinner because Athenaʼs complaining that David is working way too much and deserves to fully rest. And she wants to make sure heʼll be able to do it. Chimʼs sitting by the table, focused on his baby book; he takes his dad role very seriously and he wants to be as much prepared as he can. Heʼs still a little nervous because what if he will be a bad parent?, but most of the time he manages to shush these thoughts and focus on the bright side. Henʼs also deeply concentrated on her medical book although sheʼs sprawled on the armchair in a very odd position—she should probably get up and stretch her legs but she doesnʼt have the energy to do it and sheʼll probably regret it soon. She repeats quietly some words from time to time; it helps her remember things. Buckʼs on another armchair; heʼs spread out in  an entirely different—and definitely more comfortable—position. Whatʼs maybe surprising for some people, he also has a book in his hands. Heʼs reading about love languages and it seems like itʼs a very engrossing lecture because thereʼs a wrinkle between his brows and he occasionally chuckles at something.

Eddieʼs nowhere in sight. That heavy, drowsy atmosphere at the station got to him very quickly and he went to sleep. It didnʼt go that well, though. He slept maybe for like 20 minutes but then he woke up and kept shifting positions. Itʼs like his brain just couldnʼt shut up. Lying in the bunk doesnʼt make sense anymore so he gets up and goes to the kitchen. Heʼs not surprised to see  his closest coworkers sitting there. They barely notice him when he decides to take a bottle of water from the fridge. He comes closer and stands across the armchair Buckʼs sitting on. He knows his friend is aware of his presence but he still doesnʼt pay attention to him.

Eddie takes a sip from the bottle and then he clears his throat.

“I have this urge to do something stupid”, he says casually because he hopes his friends would understand.

“Iʼm stupid, do me.”

Thereʼs a sudden change of atmosphere. Itʼs no longer sleepy—itʼs almost cracking with electricity. Four sets of eyes are looking in Buckʼs direction. 

Oh, shit. Has Buck really said those words out loud? Panic starts to creep up in his chest because he didnʼt plan to blurt something like this while his friends are here. Or never. Heʼs convinced he just fucked up the most important relationship in his life. But Eddie is not looking at him with disgust, but with disbelief and uncertainty—as if heʼs not quite sure Buckʼs serious or if heʼs just joking. His gaze is piercing, like heʼs trying to read Buckʼs mind.

Chim slams his book on the table and looks very exasperated.

“Really? In front of my baby book?”

He surely sounds irritated but his face is betraying him. Heʼs been waiting for so long for something like this to happen— maybe not this stupid — but something thatʼd push those two idiots to resolve this sexual tension between them.

Hen, on the other hand, looks very cheerful.

“Iʼm gonna be a hundred dollar richer”, she grins widely.

Bobby doesnʼt say much; heʼs completely fine with only being an observer. Heʼs perfected his poker face through the years so the expression on his face is unreadable. Deep down, he hopes that his boys will talk about whatʼs going on between them and they will get together. He doesnʼt even mind if he loses a little bit of money. As long as Buck and Eddie pull their heads out of their asses.

“Wait, why are you gonna be richer?”, asks Buck and he looks at Hen very suspiciously. He prays Eddie would say something and maybe stop looking at him like this because it makes him nervous and more embarrassed. Heʼs sure that his friend noticed already that his cheeks are probably red by now.

“Oh my sweet, clueless Buckaroo”, says Hen, looking at him with a  rather fond expression. “Weʼve had a—”

The bell rings.

Buck has never hated the bell more.

— • —

The call—itʼs not bad. Itʼs not difficult, nothing that they couldnʼt handle. Just a couple of dumbasses at a party doing stupid challenges. They work almost as well as usually—synchronised, effortlessly, quickly—but the tension between Buck and Eddie is even more noticeable, less bearable  than normally. Bobby decides to separate them; Eddie goes with Hen and Buck works with Chim. It doesnʼt help too much. Hen catches Eddie staring at Buckʼs ass and rolls her eyes. Chim claims that Buckley is the obvious one but he clearly hasnʼt seen the way Eddie looks at Buck now. And itʼs definitely not platonic. Hen may be the one who wears glasses but she definitely sees how they look at each other. She nudges Eddie softly to bring him back to reality and to finish their tasks. When theyʼre officially done with helping there, they go back to the firetruck. Buck sits across Eddie, their knees bumping from time to time but they donʼt share a word. They just... Let themselves  glance at each other quickly only to look away just as fast every time their eyes actually meet. Chimʼs jealous of Bobby because he at least doesnʼt have to witness this awkwardness. He doesnʼt try to bring a topic to talk about even if Henʼs silently encouraging him to do so. They spend the rest of the drive in complete silence. Both Chim and Hen pretend to be asleep; Hen opens one eye a few times to check if either Buck or Eddie made some movements, maybe moved closer or, at least, looked at each other but no. They sit still as if someone froze them. Locking them in a closet is a very tempting idea (it was actually Maddie who came up with it) because all of the 118 and their friends are already so done with them dancing around each other for two years. Eventually, they arrive at the station. Buckʼs not in a hurry to leave the firetruck; heʼs nervous and he bites his lip quite hard, wondering if he should bring the topic.

“Eddie?”, he asks with some hesitation in his voice. Eddie finally looks at him and he only nods.

“Guys, can you—”, Bobby wants to hurry them up but heʼs quickly shushed by Hen. 

“Leave them, Cap. Let them do each other.”

Bobby looks horrified at the thought. He eyes both Buck and Eddie very suspiciously and he points the finger at them.

“You two, no making out in the firetruck! And no sex either!”

Buck nearly chokes on his own saliva. This isnʼt something heʼd expected to hear. Especially from Bobby. He tries to explain itʼs not like that, itʼs not like theyʼre going to kiss each other. Buck only wants to apologize to Eddie for saying something this stupid and hopes itʼs gonna be enough for him. But Bobby doesnʼt stay, heʼs already going to the kitchen, Hen and Chim following his steps.

Theyʼre left alone and Buck finally turns around to face Eddie. His friend has a very weird expression on his face and Buckʼs not sure if heʼs able to read it right.

“Having sex with you in the firetruck  wasnʼt my first thought when I said I wanted to do something stupid”, Eddie confesses and he starts to grin. He hasnʼt moved yet but Buck feels like heʼs so close to him heʼs taking his breath away. Okay, this is something he hasnʼt expected either.

“Then what were you thinking about?”, Buck asks. His voice is shaky, unsure but Eddieʼs smile is contagious.

“Iʼm not really sure. I didnʼt have anything particular in mind I think. But you really caught me off guard and I canʼt stop thinking about it since.”

As he says it, heʼs finally moving towards Buck. He stops when thereʼs barely any space between them. They donʼt break eye contact even for a second; Eddie gently cups Buckʼs face in his hands. He strokes the stubble on his friendʼs jaw with his thumb. They let their breaths mingle, their lips maybe an inch away from each other but none of them moves first.

Buckʼs mind is still trying to process what Eddie has said but itʼs hard to form any coherent thought when he can feel the other manʼs body heat and, holy shit, is Eddie hard because of him?

“If youʼre still thinking about doing me, I think it requires at least a little bit of kissing”, manages to say Buck. Heʼs still not sure if itʼs all real or itʼs just his imagination but he doesnʼt care. He retrieved his usual cocky attitude and he knows Eddie likes it.

“Smartass”, Eddie chuckles but then he captures his lips with his own.

Itʼs far from chaste, sweet or innocent. Itʼs very heated, rushed; the kind of  kiss that makes your blood boil. Buck moans softly when Eddie tugs him closer by the belt and he rolls his hips over him. He hears the belt unbuckling and a Spanish curse when Eddieʼs struggling with unzipping his pants. His mindʼs all fuzzy because of all the touches, the kisses, the heated stares. Because, apparently, itʼs all very real and—

Thereʼs a loud bang on the window.

“I told you, no making out in the firetruck”, they hear Bobbyʼs voice but he doesnʼt sound angry or annoyed. Itʼs more amused than anything. And then, they hear footsteps growing quieter which means theyʼre alone again.

“I need to remind Bobby that no making out rule should apply to everybody, not only me”, Buck scowls.

“Wait, you saw something I havenʼt seen and you haven’t told me?”

“I once caught Cap and Athena kissing here. It was gross, theyʼre like my parents”, Buck exclaims, making a very disgusted expression.

Eddie laughs.

“I think we made sure nobody will try to kiss here again. So... What do you think about the showers?”

Buckʼs only response is to lead him to the bathroom.

[isthiscurrent]

falling in place

my first ever short story/fanfic so I’m sorry if it sucks, I did my best!! hope you enjoy!! 

falling in place (reddie) 

wc: 5.2K

The fall of 1984. October has brought on a series of chilly mornings and brisk winds which have called for sweaters and hot chocolate runs before classes start. The sky is always a crisp, bright blue without any clouds, apart from the usual rain that the state of Maine receives quite often. School is in session, and the losers club is just waking up for school at five thirty on a friday morning. Eddie Kaspbrak awakes from his sleep at the ever-so-annoying beep of his alarm clock, and hurries to prepare for the school day. He has laid out clothes, which include a Nirvana t-shirt paired with a slightly oversized red flannel and blue jeans. Eddie grabs his book bag from the kitchen table, kisses his mother on the cheek, and walks out of his house and begins his walk to school.

On the way there, he meets up with Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris, other members of the losers club. Bill and Eddie have been good friends ever since their early childhood, and they eventually met Stan when they entered into the fourth grade. Bill is dressed in blue jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt, while Stan is wearing a checkered collared shirt and a pair of khakis. Of course, his shirt is neatly tucked into his pants. They begin to talk - or more complain - about their lack of motivation when it comes to completing their college applications. The losers club are seniors in high school, and they are attempting to submit all of their applications before the deadline.

“I don’t understand why we have to write essays for all of the colleges we apply to! Can’t I just submit the questionnaire and be done with it?” Eddie complained loudly, despite his fatigue from it being a Friday morning.

“Oh come on, they aren’t even difficult! I just think that someone has a bad case of senioritis,” Stan told Eddie with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

“Give him a break. Everyone is struggling with them even a little bit. Even you, Stan.” Bill added. He wasn’t completely sure that this was true, but he was trying to make Eddie feel a little better.

Stan only looked away, telling Bill that he was right. Bill smiled to himself a little, knowing very well that Stan doesn’t like to be proven wrong.

Also maybe a little bit because Bill thought that Stan was cute when he did that.

The three boys continued on their walk, quietly discussing their plans for after school. They had all planned on meeting at Bill’s house before the football game. Mike is on the varsity team, so the entire group went to as many games as they could to support him. They were really excited for the game tonight, since it was the big homecoming game. They planned on riding in Richie’s car, which he had saved up all his money for. Even though they are all 17, Richie and Bill are the only ones who have acquired their license. They still don’t drive to school though. They like to walk with their friends in the mornings (they don’t like to ride their bikes to school, Eddie thinks that someone might steal them).

They start to hear loud footsteps, as if someone is running. They all turn and see Richie sprinting down the street with a bag of McDonald’s in his hand. He was panting, clearly out of breath from his fast pace.

Eddie stopped in his tracks, waited for Richie to catch up with them and said, “Why the hell are you running? School doesn’t start for thirty minutes.”

“I… went to… grab some… breakfast for us! I was… running so it wouldn’t… get cold,” Richie struggled to say as he was still out of breath. “I knew that you… probably already left for school… and I wanted to catch up with you guys.”

Bill, sounding appreciative at the lengths Richie went to in order to get breakfast for them, said, “That was really thoughtful of you, Rich, but where did you get the money for that? We all know that you’re broke.”

Richie only smiled, and then spoke. “I swiped some from my folks. They never notice when I’m in the house, so I figured they wouldn’t notice if I took some money.”

Stan was obviously disapproving of his actions. He sighed heavily before he spoke. “I’m not sure that’s how it works. I know my parents would know if I took some of their money.”

“That’s because your parents actually pay attention to you, Stan the man. My parents couldn’t give a shit about me if they tried.”

Everyone, while they knew this fact, developed a saddened look of sympathy for their friend. Richie opened up the bag of McDonald’s, and handed Eddie, Stan and Bill one bacon egg and cheese biscuit, a hashbrown, and a small fry. Richie then brought food out of the bag for himself. They all ate their food on the way to school, where they would meet up with Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom and Mike Hanlon. Mike used to be homeschooled, but when he began high school, he made the transfer to public school (after extensive begging from Bill and Bev).

The school yard was nearly full by the time the four boys arrived, and they met up with the other members of the loser’s club. They were nearly late, as usual, so Bill quickly told them the plan for this afternoon, and they all went their separate ways, except for Richie and Eddie, who had first period together. Richie, being playful (only not in his mind), swung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders as they entered the hallway. Eddie shrugged him off, with a slight annoyed look on his face.

“Would you stop that? You do that all the time! You know that I don’t like it…” Eddie told Richie, exasperated. Richie gave him the side eye, with a small smile on his face, that only Eddie could pick up on. Richie, even though they only had a minute to make it to class, suddenly pulled Eddie into the boys restroom. Richie checked to make sure that I was clear, and then pushed Eddie up against the wall and kissed him.

“I have been waiting all morning to do that. Everyone was always around, we never got a moment to ourselves…” Richie told Eddie in between kisses. Eddie only smiled widely at his secret boyfriend, and resumed the kiss.

“I have been waiting too. It’s hard to keep it from them when all I want to do is kiss you all the time,” Eddie said to Richie lovingly.

“I really think that we should tell them soon, Eds. It’s been 3 months. I’m actually surprised that we have kept it a secret for this long.”

“I know, me too. I want to tell them, but what if they don’t approve? I mean I’m sure that they would, and I have a feeling that Bev and Bill already know about us, but there is still that fear…” Eddie whispered quietly, scared.

“Oh please, they have been rooting for us from day one, and you know that too. Once we tell them, everything will be out in the open, and it will be good. Especially when I can hold your hand whenever I want, kiss you whenever I want, and do this whenever I want…” Richie began to lightly kiss Eddie’s neck, knowing all too well that made Eddie go crazy. Eddie took this time to imagine what it would be like to tell them, and how they would react. He suddenly pictured them shutting Richie and himself out, disapproving of their relationship. Eddie knew this was irrational, since he knew that they would all be thrilled that they were finally together, but the fear of being shut out still haunted them. Richie tries to tell this to Eddie everyday, but they still haven’t told the others.

No one knows but them.

“Maybe we should tell them tonight… it’s as good a time as any,” Richie suggested. “Nothing bad is going to happen Eds, I promise.”

Eddie only looked at him, skeptical, for a few moments. His face then broke into a nervous smile, and said, “Okay, we can tell them tonight.”

“Really, Eds? You’re sure? This is great! Everything is going to be fine.”

“No, I’m not sure, but the truth has to come out at some point.” Eddie admitted, and smiled again at his boyfriend.

Richie proceeds to kiss Eddie, and tell him, “I love you so much Eds… you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Eddie said with a bright smile. “I love you too, you idiot. But come on, we have to get to class. People are going to get suspicious.”

“Eddie, we are already 5 minutes late. I think that everyone is suspicious by now.”

The two boys walked to class together, holding hands, and making sure that no one was in the hall to see them. They wanted to make sure that no rumors got spread around before they had the chance to tell the others.

Later that day

The last bell rang, dismissing them from school for the weekend. All of the losers met in the school yard, and then started their walk to Bill’s house. The game started at seven, so they figured they would hang out for a while, head over to the diner for something to eat, and then go to the game. They all loved seeing Mike play, even though none of them really knew much about football. Nevertheless, they always had fun at the games. When they got to Bill’s house, Richie led everyone to the basement, which is where they normally hung out. Mike reached for the TV remote, and turned on a rerun of “Cheers”. No one actually watched it, it was mainly there for background noise. A conversation arose, with no real purpose, just trying to pass the time.

Ben was currently talking about his art project, and he seemed really excited about it.

“I’m doing an up-close portrait of a girl smoking a cigarette. It isn’t focused on her face, but there is going to be some red hair flowing in from off the canvas.”

Mike rose an eyebrow at Ben, knowing that the real subject of his painting was Bev, and everyone knew it. Except for Bev. The entire group could sense that Ben was completely in love with her, but she couldn’t be more oblivious.

Richie spoke up and said, “Okay, well while you’re working on that, I have something to tell you all…”

Eddie heard this and immediately looked up at Richie, shaking his head subtly, but Richie could tell that it wasn’t the right time to tell them. Richie, covering his tracks, said, “I’m not failing Spanish any more! Senorita Gonzalez gave me a ninety-three on my speech, and she even said ‘Muy bien Richie! Veo estudiaste.’”

Bev, not having taken Spanish, asked Richie, “What does that mean?”

“Not a clue, but it must have been good!” Richie laughed, and he received an exaggerated eye roll from Stan. Richie looked over at Eddie, giving him an apologetic look. He wanted everything to be okay for Eddie. Richie didn’t think that Eddie knew the extent of the love that Richie had for him. Eddie was the first person that made him feel cared for, loved, alive. He would do anything to keep him happy. To keep him loving him.

Eddie gazed at Richie, slightly angry that he almost told their friends, but also thinking how much he loved him. Richie was the most perfect being that Eddie had ever seen. His ability to make Eddie laugh more than he ever has, and how he understands him. Richie never judged Eddie for his weird quirks, and for a reason unknown to Eddie, Richie loved him. Both of them wanted nothing more than to have the whole group know the truth about their relationship, but for some reason, Eddie was hesitant. Richie knew this, and tried to support him, but he struggled to hide their relationship when he felt so passionate about it, and he wanted it to be out in the open with their friends. He felt that it was ridiculous to hide it. Eddie knew this, but still… nothing.

“Well, we should probably get going, if we want to beat the crowd to the diner.” Stan stated, staring at his pristine fingernails, as if they needed to be filed again.

Bill agreed with him. “Yeah, we should probably go. I’m starving! The cafeteria food today was horrendous.”

“Isn’t it always?” Bev said with a chuckle to go along with it. With that, they turned off the TV and started to grab their coats. They all piled into Richie’s car, turned up the radio, and made their way to the diner.

When the gang arrived, they sat in their favorite booth. In the back, by the window. On one side sat Bill, Bev and Ben on the end. On the other, Richie, Eddie and Stan - Mike couldn’t go to the diner, he had to get to the school early to warm up before the game. Eddie and Richie liked sitting in booths. It gave them the opportunity to hold hands underneath the table without anyone noticing, or for Richie to put his hand on Eddie’s thigh. No one noticed, or so they thought. Bill had speculated with Bev that they might be a thing, but they never said anything. They didn’t want to call out their friends and basically force them to tell them before they were ready. Bill wanted them to do this in their own time.

They all began looking at their menus, and Eddie’s fingertips grazed Richie’s hand which rested on his leg under the table. Richie, not wanting to give anyone any ideas, continued to look at his menu but a small smile spread on his face. Under the table, he flipped his hand over, and laced his fingers with Eddie’s. Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, just like it always did when his skin came into contact with Richie’s.

“I don’t know which I want more… The cheeseburger or the chili dog. What do you guys think?” Ben asked the group. Eddie and Richie both said “chili dog” in unison, prompting an odd look from Bev, but she then agreed with them. Ben ended up getting the chili dog. They all ordered, and chatted as they waited for their food. Bill talked about how excited he was for the football game. Everyone in the group thinks that Bill secretly wishes that he was more social in high school, and he loves going to the football games since nearly their whole grade goes. Bill has always been outgoing, even through the bullying he received as a child because of his stutter. He grew out of it when he started high school, and Bill has always wanted to get involved in more things, and meet new people. The majority of the group was the same way. Although, some were better than others when it came to actually getting involved. Mike tried out for the football team his freshman year, and ended up making varsity. He is playing in the game tonight, and he is really excited that his friends are going (even though they usually go anyway). Bev got involved in theater, and she is really good at it. She auditions for all of the plays and musicals, and always ends up getting lead roles. Eddie had always secretly wanted to join theater too, but he was afraid of the ridicule he was sure to receive. Little did he know, Richie would have been so excited for Eddie to join theater. He would have been so supportive, and happy that the boy that he had loved for so long had found something that he loved. Richie, on the other hand, was in charge of the school announcements. He would go on every morning and afternoon and tell the students important information about clubs, sports and whatnot, while throwing some jokes in the mix. Richie loved it, and everyone loved him because of it. It had made Richie quite popular, same with Mike and Bev. Bill liked to write short stories for the school paper, even though hardly anyone ever read it. The group reads them religiously, and always raves about how good they are. They all tell him he should be a writer one day. The rest of the group was more closed off. Ben spent a lot of time in the library, reading nonfiction stories and helping the librarians shelve books. He didn’t mind this, he actually quite enjoyed it. Stan had always had a fascination for birds, but they didn’t have a club for that at the school, so he just goes to the park on his own with his binoculars and bird book. He enjoys the quiet time with no distractions, just him and his birds.

Their food arrived, and they all dug in. Richie had always been a little bit of a messy eater, and when he was taking a bite of his cheeseburger, he got ketchup all over his mouth. He didn’t make an effort to wipe it off, he just kept inhaling the thing. Eddie saw this, and thought to himself, “Why do I love this loser?”

Richie stole a glance at Eddie from the corner of his eye, and saw Eddie staring at him.

“Yes, Eds?”

“You have ketchup all over your face. Here,” Eddie handed him his napkin. “It looks like you need this more than I do.”

Richie took the napkin, smiling. “You always take such good care of me.”

It was comments like these, even though they came across as joking, that had a second meaning, which was only meant for Eddie. Eddie did take good care of Richie, and he was so appreciative of it. He could picture them, older, still sitting in this diner, Eddie handing him a napkin.

God, Richie was so in love.

Bev, on some level, also understood that certain comments that Richie made to Eddie, and vice versa, meant something different. Something more meaningful. Bev had always been more intuitive when it came to stuff like that than the others. Bill came in a close second, but there were still some things that he didn’t catch. Bev looked over to Bill to see if he had picked up on the same thing that she did in the brief conversation between Richie and Eddie, but he didn’t, from what she could tell. He seemed to be too invested in seasoning his fries to be interested. Bev glanced back over to Richie, who had an odd look on his face. He kept sneaking looks at Eddie, and Eddie was doing the same to Richie.

There is definitely something more than a friendship going on there, Bev thought to herself. Ben then started talking about the history of football, and she let herself forget the thought of Richie and Eddie, and listen to Ben, no matter how boring the topic.

After they had all eaten dinner and split the bill six different ways, they all piled into Richie’s car again, and made their way to the Derry High School football field. They were a tad late, as usual, so they squeezed into the student section wherever they would fit. They sat down on the cold bleachers, and looked for Mike’s jersey number on the field. Their school, the Eagles, were up by a touchdown. They didn’t even have to ask who made the goal, they already knew it was Mike. He was the quarterback, and a really good one. In the current play, Mike was running with the ball into the endzone. Richie stood up on the bleacher and yelled, “GO MIKE! KICK THEIR ASS!” Eddie immediately hushed him, looking around anxiously to see if any administrators who were supervising the game had heard, yet no one did. In fact, even if they did, they probably wouldn’t care. Richie looked down at Eddie and laughed, Bev and Ben joining in. Bill was still watching Mike run down the field. He is about to get tackled, and Mike throws the ball to one of his teammates near the end zone. Then, the announcer says “Another touchdown for the Eagles”. The crowd cheers, and many of the students start to whoop. The group joins them, happy for their friend. Mike, from on the field, looks for his friends in the bleachers. He spots them easily, for Richie and Bev are now both standing on top of the bleacher, jumping up and down. Mike’s face lights up at the sight of his friends having fun at his game. He never told them before, but he really likes it when they come to the games. It shows they care.

“Man, I should have tried out for football. Look at all these people here to see Mike!” Richie said to the group.

“Rich, you’ve never played football a day in your life,” Eddie said in response. “How would you have made the team?”

“It doesn’t look that hard. All you have to do is throw that odd-shaped ball around.”

Stan just rolled his eyes at Richie.

The rest of the game finished out well. Mike made 2 more touchdowns, and the team ended up winning 36-18. They all piled out of the bleachers, and went to wait outside the locker room for Mike. The temperature had dropped a good 20 degrees, and they were all shivering. Stan kept complaining that he was cold, and Eddie was afraid that he was going to get hypothermia, to which Bill told him that it wasn’t exactly cold enough for that.

Richie thought this was the perfect time to tell the group about him and Eddie. He kept trying to signal to him, but he wasn’t picking up on them. Richie decided that Eddie had already told him that he wanted to tell them tonight, so he did.

“I’m in love with Eddie,” Richie blurted out, immediately catching Eddie’s attention.

Eddie looked horrified, and realized that there was no taking back what Richie had said. They all heard. Bev and Bill looked slightly shocked, but somewhat not, because they kind of already knew. Stan had a very confused look on his face, looking between Richie and Eddie. In fact, everyone was looking at Eddie, waiting for a response.

Eddie took a deep breath, and then said, “...and I love him too… I have for a long time…” Eddie was very unsure of his words. Not that he didn’t mean them, of course he did, but he felt like he was going to throw up because of how nervous he suddenly was. His voice was small and quiet, and shaking slightly.

Richie looked at his boyfriend, smiling, and then looked to the rest of the group. Bev also had a smile on her face, and Bill was smirking. Ben looked happy, but confused at the same time. Stan, for once, was grinning at Richie. That never happened.

“I think I knew. On some level at least. How long have you been together?” Bev asked the two boys.

“It’s been about 3 months,” Richie told her.

“Four in November,” Eddie added. Despite his nerves, he was glad that they were telling everyone. They had been keeping it a secret for so long, and it felt good to finally have it out in the open. It was hard for them to keep it a secret, and it was such a relief to not have to hide it anymore. They were free.

“Well, I’m glad you guys told us, but I’m sorry that you felt that you had to keep your relationship a secret. We would have been so happy, and we are now! What kept you from telling us?” Bill asked them.

Richie and Eddie shared a look, and Eddie realized that there was no point in lying, so they told them.

“We-I was afraid that you all wouldn’t accept it. I’ve been bullied and made fun of all my life, and I didn’t want that to carry over to you guys… So I made Richie keep it between us. Now, I realize that was stupid, and there was nothing to be afraid of. I’m sorry, especially to you, Rich. I was being paranoid, and we should have just told them in the first place,” Eddie confessed to the group. He couldn’t lie to himself, it felt amazing to finally get that all off of his chest. For so long, he had been afraid to be who he was. When he was growing up, he realized his feelings for Richie, and he thought something was wrong with him. But Richie told him that he was perfect the way he was. Richie saw him, understood him, better than anyone. If Eddie was bothered by something, Richie was the first to notice, and try to make it better. If Eddie was sad, Richie was the first to comfort him. Eddie wanted to keep this sacred relationship between them, for a couple reasons. One because he loved Richie, and didn’t want anything to wreck their relationship, but mostly because he was afraid of the ridicule both he and Richie would receive. Richie was strong enough to handle himself, but Eddie was still seen as the small weakling who has to get help from his stronger friends. When he was with Richie, he didn’t feel small, or at a disadvantage. He felt whole, like they were equals. Eddie wanted it to stay that way forever.

The sudden, abrasive hug that Eddie had received from Bev tore him from his thoughts, and back to the rest of the group. Bev had her arms wrapped around Eddie’s small frame, trying to show him that they would always accept Eddie, no matter what, Bev and the rest of the group didn’t care whether or not he was gay. They only wanted him to be happy, and if he found happiness with Richie, that was even better.

During this ordeal, Richie stood next to Eddie, taking it all in. He was overjoyed in this moment. Looking at the faces of his friends, whom he loved more than anything, seeing the looks of happiness and acceptance, he felt pure joy. He could not put into words how proud he was of his boyfriend. Eddie finally came clean to their friends, something he had been waiting for him to do for a long time. Eddie and Richie knew each other more than they knew themselves, so Richie knew what this confession meant for Eddie. His fear of not being accepted or loved by his friends took a toll on his life, and when they began to hide their relationship, a small light went out in Eddie, but one was also lit. When Eddie told Bill, Bev, Ben and Stan about their relationship and everyone showed him that nothing had changed in their feelings toward him, that light was relit.

The locker room door swung open, and Mike came out, holding his football gear in his hand.

“So, what did I miss?”

Six pairs of eyes landed on him, and they just started laughing.

Later that night

Richie and Eddie were laying on top of Eddie’s bed in his room. They were making sure to be extra quiet, since the time was currently 1:37 in the morning, and they didn’t want to accidentally wake his mom. She still didn’t know about their relationship, and they intended to keep it that way. They had laid awake talking for the past 3 hours, after they had left everyone for the night. They had all planned on staying the night in Bill’s basement, but they had wanted to spend some time alone. Considering the events that had taken place that night. The rest of the losers are still over at Bill’s house. Eddie’s head was currently on Richie’s chest, and while they were softly talking in the dark, they felt at peace. It was as if their friends knowing about their relationship was the missing piece to the puzzle. They felt complete.

Eddie was the first to speak after a couple minutes of silence: “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Eds. You can ask me anything,” Richie said to him in response.

Eddie looked at him apprehensively, and slowly began to speak. “Were you mad that I didn’t want to tell everyone right away? I understand if you were, I wouldn’t blame you. I know that you really wanted to tell them a long time ago.”

Richie looked at him, confused. He didn’t see how Eddie could ever think that he was mad at him in the slightest.

“Eddie, why would I have been mad at you? I knew how nervous you were, and I would never pressure you into something that you didn’t want to do. Eddie, I love you, and if waiting to tell our friends about our relationship was something that you felt more comfortable doing, I was more than happy to wait with you,” Richie said to him in a slight whisper with a small smile on his lips. Eddie instantly felt comforted. Richie had that kind of power over him.

Eddie stayed quiet for a little bit, not feeling the need to say anything. They both felt nothing but bliss. After a couple minutes, Eddie leaned up to kiss Richie. It started off soft, and gradually grew stronger. They hadn’t gone any further than kissing and the occasional touching, and they were both okay with that. Richie and Eddie were okay with where their relationship was at the moment, and they just wanted to stay there for a while. Of course, when the time came, they would want to take their relationship to the next level, but for now, they felt good. They were content.

For the rest of the night, they laid in each other’s arms, dreaming of their future together. Thinking of how much they loved one another. Knowing that they will be together forever.

“Rich, I know that I don’t say it as much as I should, but you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You always believe in me and accept me for who I am. I know that I am stubborn and difficult sometimes, but I always know that you will be there for me. I love you, more than words can say. Thank you, for being you,” Eddie said to him while making eye contact. Richie stared back, trying to find the right words to say, but he couldn’t come up with anything close to how he was feeling. He wanted to tell him that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Eddie, living happily ever after. He wants to wake up next to him everyday, and take care of him. He told him in the only way he knew that he could. He leaned down, and once again rested his lips against Eddie’s. This time, it was gentle, loving, and it spoke a thousand words. Eddie immediately knew what Richie was thinking, and kissed him back, showing him that he felt the same way. They fell asleep shortly after, and felt nothing but bliss.

[isabellaflynns]

Don’t Make Me Do This | Chatzy

Summary: Isabella finally puts things into motion Trigger warnings: Blood, drugging, kidnapping, violence Written by: @riddle-me-that and @isabellaflynns​

Isabella: In an odd way, Isabella supposed she should thank Oswald. Were it not for his comment about Harley, she might not have done this for at least a few days. It had been built up in her mind for weeks, and she could hardly believe it was going to happen now. She stood on the front steps of his house, looking up at the windows. Her duffel bag was light, and she had transferred the chloroform-soaked handkerchief from the side pocket to her coat, so she could grab it easily, if she needed to. God, she hoped she didn't need to. She hoped that Edward would just agree to come with her, that she could convince him to get in the car without making a fuss. But, deep down, she knew he wouldn't. Edward always panicked. Which was why, though it pained her, she had come prepared. He would only damage himself if he tried to fight, and it was kinder for him to be put to sleep, so he wouldn't get upset.

She almost didn't want to go inside. If she went in, this would all become real, and she would see him, and everything would happen however it happened. But, if she just left the house the way it was, and kept the bliss inside her own head, then nothing could spoil it. Everything would stay wonderful. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and, without hesitating, walked right up the steps and stopped at the front door. Of course, she had to go inside. If she didn't, then it would never be real. Edward would never be with her, and they would never live their perfect life together. She had to do this. Even if it was upsetting for him at first. It would all come right in the end.

So, without allowing herself time to reconsider, she raised her hand and easily twisted the front door handle, breaking the internal locking mechanism with no trouble. The door swung open as easily as if she'd unlocked it with a key. And, taking a deep breath, she stepped over the threshold. Her heart was thudding. She knew that there was no danger of running into Oswald – not that he would posed a threat, of course – as he was out for the evening. Relishing the quiet thrill of being in a house alone with Edward, she closed the door softly behind her, and started down the hallway in the dim light, listening out for every single sound.

Edward: Ed was trying to get to sleep, eyes half closed watching a dark corner in their room. He was waiting for Oswald to get home from his illegal activities. Life dating a Crime Boss wasn't nearly as exciting as Ed assumed it would be. It mostly consisted of him waiting for him to come home as though Ed were a loyal housewife. Wanting Oswald by his side so he could sleep properly. He never did manage to stay awake long enough before his boyfriend came back to him, but he tried every night Oswald was gone. He tried to wait up for him. So he could greet him with a kiss and ask him how his night was. So he could listen to him talk and fall asleep by his side. He sighed softly to himself and closed his eyes. Trying to push himself to just sleep before he heard the unique sound of the front door opening and the creaking of the floor as someone walked into the house. Was Oswald home?

Ed sat up and stretched out before getting to his feet and slipping on his glasses. Standing up and not bothering with the light as he was quite used to the moonlight now that he had been awake in the darkness for so long. The light creeped in through his windows in rectangular shapes on the floor as he travelled out of their bedroom and into the hall. The light catching a couple of the items on the wall. Picture frames, a couple of items Oswald collected, including a sword. "Ozzie?" He called out into the hallway. Reaching the end of the hall to the stairs. He moved down the stairs and headed towards the door to hopefully meet up with his boyfriend when he reached the door but instead he ran into a much more frightening figure.

Instead of the short, waddling man he expected – he found a taller woman. He could hardly see her in the dark but he knew who it was immediately. Isabella. Ed stepped back in a stumbling motion. Having to grab the wall for balance, clearly frightened by this. His heart raced in his chest and he felt himself gasp loudly for air as if he suddenly forgot how to breathe normally. She was in his house at night... alone with him.

Isabella: Of all the things Isabella had expected to happen, she hadn't thought about Eddie coming out of his bedroom. When she'd vaguely imagined this (because she had always vaguely imagined this part – she often skipped over actually getting him to the farmhouse) he had never run into her in the hallway. In some versions, she'd reached his bedroom, and woken him by softly calling his name, and he had smiled at her sleepily. In her head, he was always pleased to see her. In another version, he had been in the kitchen for some water, and he had turned when she entered, his hair messy and his eyes foggy with sleep. But he had lit up when he'd seen her, smiling the way he used to, when they were together. Both versions of events had one thing in common. He wasn't angry at her. He didn't hate her.

But it didn't happen like that. Of course it didn't. Edward froze in the hallway, and staggered backwards, and Isabella thought Please don't, but she couldn't speak. She just stared at him. She could barely make him out in the darkness. She heard him gasp. Oh, goodness, he was already panicking. "Eddie – darling –" she began, the words spilling to her automatically. Wasn't that her forte? Comforting him? She took a few steps closer, and raised her hands so that, even with the lack of light, he could see that she was unarmed. Her duffel bag hung awkwardly from her shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said in a calm voice.

She wanted some sort of light, so she could see him properly. The fact that they were silhouettes to each other made this whole thing faintly ridiculous. Like a stupid comedy sketch or something. For goodness sake, this was the first time she'd been in his presence in weeks, and she couldn't even see him. But she had no idea where a light switch was, so she just made do with peering at him through the gloom, just about making him out. "Please stay calm. I know this is shocking. But you have to stay calm for me."

He had to. If he started panicking or shouting then she would have no choice but to chloroform him, and she didn't want to do that. She stayed completely still and didn't advance anymore, but just kept looking at him, breathing slowly, even though her heart was pounding.

Edward: He wasn't entirely sure what to do. How had he been so stupid not to come down the stairs without a weapon in hand? He knew there was a possibility that it wasn't Oswald, didn't he? He tried to keep his distance from her, walking slowly backwards as though he was a startled animal. Thinking about where the nearest weapon would be. The kitchen? The knives on the counter table. He could use a knife and stab her in the head. Would that kill her? Would stabbing her through her brain kill her? He felt an overwhelming sense of panic inside of him. Feeling way too unprepared for this meeting. He should talk her into just leaving, shouldn't he? But he had to figure out why she was there first. To kill him? To steal him away in the middle of the night while he was sleeping? The only way he could properly know was if he asked.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a breathy tone, continuing to very carefully back up. Feeling along the wall for anything he could use and to keep himself balanced. She said she wasn't going to hurt him and she was talking in this calm, sweeter tone as if that helped him at all. She broke into his home while Oswald was away while it was dark. What did she expect would happen? Why was she talking to him as if this was all fine and normal. As if he was the irrational one for freaking out. One would think to panic if someone who previously stabbed them broke into their home. He wondered how she would explain this and just what she was thinking by doing this.

Just then, his hand touched a picture frame and he tilted it. Thinking that if she did steal or kill him that he'd need to leave some clues that something was wrong to Oswald. Just in case. In every room this confrontation could go down. As he backed up again, he found another one and tilted that one as well. "Stay calm for you?" He laughed nervously. "For you?!? I'm not about to be calm for a woman who just broke into my house!" He snapped at her. Staring at the duffle bag shape on her body. "What's the bag for...?"

Isabella: Isabella hated the way he was talking. As if he was struggling to breathe, as if he was utterly terrified. He was probably still half asleep, she told herself. But she knew by his voice that he was wide awake. And that question was awful. It was the sort of thing you would ask a criminal – What are you going to do to me? – not the love of your life.

She looked at him, and had to keep calm, because he clearly wasn't. As he backed away, she approached slowly, still keeping her hands up. "I came to see you, my love," she said in that same steady voice. There was little hope of him calming down now – she could tell when he was unravelling – but she had to try. If she didn't, she would have to sedate him, and that would be horrible for both of them.

He kept walking away from her, feeling along the wall as if he was struggling to even stay standing. It broke her heart. He was making this worse for himself, turning the situation into something it didn't have to be, by backing away and gasping and being so scared. If he just stayed still, and turned out a light, they could talk like adults, but he was clearly in no mental state to do that. This was the version of Eddie that made her so, so, upset. This was Edward when he was afraid, witless, irrational. He gave a strangled laugh, and the sound of it made her pause again. Out of everything he'd said, she could only latch onto one thing. "It's not your house," she said, simply. "It's Oswald's."

When he spotted the bag, she breathed out slowly. At least he was still asking questions. He wasn't in such a state that he couldn't even talk. Perhaps there was the slimmest of chances that she wouldn't have to drug him. Perhaps he wouldn't make this difficult. "I needed to bring supplies," she said, choosing her words carefully. Edward in this state was so flighty. One wrong word, and he might do something silly.

She didn’t elaborate on what the supplies were, or why she needed them. It would only frighten him. Instead, she said, "I don't want to use any of them. And it's mostly empty, right now. It's really so we can pack some of your clothes. I'll need to make a few trips, but I think I can get most of them in here." She smiled, even though he couldn't see it in the dark.

Edward: His stomach nearly flipped when she called him 'my love'. Even after everything she was still using that phrase. She still thought of him as her one true love and he hated it. It only reminded him of how she was created for him. Of how sick she truly was to think he could still love her back. That he could ever care about her like that again. She was obsessing over him, he knew the feeling well. She didn't love him. Not truly. If she did, she wouldn't be doing this. She'd be allowing him to live a happy life without him by her side. But she was selfish and unwilling to let him be happy without her. "Well you've seen me." He answered with a small gesture to the door with his head. "You... you can go now."

His brain went over everything he could do. He could try and make a run for the front door. It wasn't too far from where he was, but she was a lot stronger then he was and perhaps she was faster too. He never tested how fast she could run so he wasn't sure. She'd catch him and handle him roughly to get him down. Then she'd knock him out and carry him away and the only trace of his attack would be the two tilted picture frames. That wouldn't be enough for Oswald to know he was kidnapped. He thought about his plan with the knife again. He didn't want to kill her, and that could end up worse for him then the other attack. But if he could get her blood all over the floor and make a scene in the kitchen... tossing things over, breaking things... she'd have a lot more to clean and it's likely that she'd miss something. Especially since she didn't really have the time to clean and pack all of his things away.

He swallowed. Imagining her taking his things in that bag. Imagining her staging this as though Ed just up and left his boyfriend. Like he was bored of him or something. He didn't want Oswald to think that. He wanted Oswald to go and to find him. To send out thugs and an army to track him down where ever Isabella takes him. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to escape this unless he kills Isabella and that could cause a horrible mental break for him. He didn't want to have to kill her and he honestly didn't think he'd be fast enough anyway. She was going to take him whether he liked it or not. So he had to make a show out of this. He had to create a mess so that Oswald could figure out he was taken and not that he walked out. "It's mine and Oswald's house. It's our house. We live together." He finally said. "...What kinds of supplies?" He asked as he felt the corner towards the kitchen.

Isabella: Oh, for goodness sake. This was ridiculous. Edward was still backing away from her, in the almost pitch darkness, and Isabella couldn't even really see him. She sighed at his stupid attempt at a joke. It didn't even warrant a response. Even in this panicked state, Edward knew she wasn't going to leave. He kept stepping backwards, leaning against the wall, and she wanted to snap at him to just stop. He was clever. He knew that, eventually, he was going to force her to back him into a corner, like a dumb animal, and he would gasp and cower, and turn her into the villain. She didn't want to hurt him. She hated that he was so afraid. Why couldn't he just wait, and listen?

He hadn't stopped moving since she'd arrived. He had started moving away the moment he saw her. Isabella followed him slowly, keeping her distance, desperately trying to remain relaxed, though, with every step, she was becoming more aware of the handkerchief in her pocket. Edward wasn't calming down. He was getting himself into a state. She could hear it in his quick breathing. They came to a corner, and he backed around it, and she kept walking after him. This wasn't how she'd wanted this to go. None of it was. He was forcing her to chase him around Oswald's house like some sort of movie villain, clearly afraid of her, and she was trying to keep the situation civil, but she felt it slipping out of her control.

"Fine," she said, to appease him. She hated talking about Oswald. She hated hearing Edward say his name. But then he asked about the supplies, and she was silent for a moment. The answer would only upset him, and she knew it, and so she tried to think of a neutral way to say what she had in the bag. However she described the supplies, he would know what she meant, but she didn't want to use inflammatory language. It would only make this worse. He probably already knew what she had, or, at least, he could make an educated guess.

"They're just some things to keep you... calm," she said softly. She couldn't help but pause before saying the word calm, because she almost said docile, but managed to stop herself. It would scare him, and he was clearly scared enough. "Like I said, I don't want to use them. I want you to come without a fight. Please." She so badly wanted this to go well, for him to calm down, to stop backing away, to agree to come with her. There was nothing romantic about drugging him to sleep, but if he forced her hand, then she would have to. She was willing to do what was necessary.

Edward: The darkness seemed to make them both walk a little more cautiously as Ed led the other into his trap. He wanted to bring her into the kitchen and so far she kept her steady distance after him. Not moving too quickly, still trying to keep him calm somehow. It was a good pace. He didn't have to run quite yet and he could keep thinking and planning. Even though he was terrified, there was no way in Hell that he was going to ruin his shot at being found by moving too quickly or do anything too rash. Surely, she must have thought he was being stupid. That he was just reacting in a silly way. He swallowed. Keeping his pace down the hall and finally into the kitchen.

Wondering for a moment if he should turn on the light or not. It was a matter of whether or not he wanted her to know that he was trying to make this much harder for her or not. If she couldn't really see what he was doing, she wouldn't have the full extent of what he was doing but then she'd continue to think he was being stupid. So, once he reached the light switch... he clicked it on and picked up his pace. Backwards, much faster towards the kitchen counter.

Now that he could see Isabella in the light, there was a familiar sick feeling in his stomach. Imagining her wrestling the knife from him and stabbing him all over again. He wanted to throw up from the mere idea of that happening again. Of him bleeding out in her arms and her not acting quick enough to save him. He hated it. He hated this game of cat and mouse. Ed snatched the knife out of the knife block and held it out towards him like he was trying to warn her that he would stab her if she came closer to him. Moving towards the table, towards the corner of the room. He grabbed a chair with his free hand and tossed it towards her. Hearing the wood crash against the floor.

She had something in that bag to knock him out. He knew she did... and he just needed to stay awake long enough to make a dramatic scene out of the kitchen. There was no way he was getting out of this fine and awake. There was no way she wasn't going to be able to overpower and take him. It was would so easy for her. Like snatching up a kitten. "I'm not coming without a fight." He told her sternly. He was already a mess. In his pyjamas and socks, his hair a mess and his glasses askew.

Isabella: They reached the kitchen, and Edward flicked on the light. Suddenly, the room was bathed in white light, and Isabella blinked in surprise. The light hurt her eyes a little -- she had been just been getting used to the dimness of the hallway -- but Edward didn't waste any time. He walked backwards towards the kitchen counter. She just stared at him, and didn't move. Goodness, he was breath-taking. She hadn't seen him for weeks, and it was startling. He was pale, probably from fear, and his hair was messy and tangled from where he'd been lying on it. He was in pyjamas and socks, which was just as surreal as it was endearing. It was obvious that he'd rammed his glasses on quickly, because they were slightly wonky on his nose, and just the sight of him looking so dishevelled and domestic made her almost smile.

But then he picked up a knife from the block, and held it out, and it shattered the heart-warming image. His hand wasn't shaking. He was perfectly steady. She stayed where she was, and raised her hands again to show she was unarmed. "Okay, Eddie," she said quietly. "Okay." He looked utterly insane, brandishing the knife at her, and he moved towards the table and threw a chair. It blocked her path towards him, but didn't hit her. It was a pitiful attempt to... what? Stop her? They both knew he was going to come with her. Why was he making it more difficult for himself? She had all but admitted she could drug him, and yet here he was, still trying to threaten her anyway. Was he stalling, trying to wait for Oswald to return? Or was he just trying to make this harder for her, in the hopes she would give up? As if she would do that.

The sight of the knife in his hand made her throat close. Not with fear, of course -- she wouldn't have felt it, if he stabbed her, and the wound would have healed in a matter of hours -- but because he felt he had to hold it. He felt like he needed to be armed against her. He was so scared. Her beautiful Eddie. "Please don't make me do this, my love," she said quietly. What choice did she have? He had said he was going to struggle. She had prepared for this eventuality, and expected it, but now it was happening, now he was standing right in front of her with a knife, she hated it. She had to talk him out of doing something stupid, even though she recognised that tone in his voice. It was almost exactly the same tone he'd used to use when he was in a mood. Like a stubborn toddler, Edward was putting his foot down.

Slowly, she stepped closer to him, ignoring the blade completely. His eyes were so wide behind his skewed glasses. She looked straight into them, begging him to see her, and not a monster. Why was he trying to fight? He loved her.

"Just put the knife down," she said, desperately trying to appeal to him. She took another step. He couldn't stab her, could he? Even in this terrified, animalistic, state, he couldn't attack her? The thought of that made her want to cry, but she couldn't. Edward was in a state, and this was her last-ditch attempt to talk him down, to reach him, before she had to take drastic measures. "I don't want to have to force you to come with me." She walked around the chair and kept approaching him with her arms up, bent at the elbows, all the while staring into his eyes, imploring him to make the right decision.

Edward: Ed stayed in his spot by the table, watching her with wide set eyes. Staring at her as if the moment he blinked she would be right there up against him, slamming his head against the table or sticking a needle in his neck. He gripped the handle of the knife tighter, moving to grab it with two hands instead of one. He tried to talk himself into being ready for when he had to pierce her flesh with his blade. He'd need to act pretty fast and she could always try to pull the weapon from his grasp.

He waited as she kept coming closer and closer and his anxiety climbed and physically he could no longer move so much as a muscle. Frozen for a moment with fear as his very active imagination pictured her picking up the pace and snapping his wrist so he would drop the knife before he could have the opportunity to stab her. Or maybe she would grab it by the blade's end with her hand and take it from him like he was a child who had no proper grip of it at all. The blade slicing deep into the palm of her hand and the inner side of her fingers. He could imagine her taking it from him like that and dropping it on the ground, her creepy synthetic flesh healing as soon as she lets go of the sharp blade.

She was still trying to talk him out of it and without realizing it, he was biting down on his bottom lip nervously. She was moving around the chair now and he forgot how to move or what to do. Everything she was saying was eerie. Don't make me do this, I don't want to have to force you to come with me. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he again pictured her using brute force against him. She was saying how she didn't want to have to do this to him but he was well aware that she would if needed. She would hurt him in order to get to him. He finally found the ability to move again, just a little more backwards. The table pressing harshly into his lower back.

She was holding her hands up as if she was surrendering but he knew she wasn't. She was just trying to calm him so she can take him out without too much of a fight. Ed gritted his teeth and his face twitched a bit as he waited for her to get close enough. Once she was in a good enough distance, he willingly lunged himself forward and pushed the blade into her stomach energetically. Not really wanting to waste another precious second. The longer he waited, the more nerve-racking this all became and he just needed to get it over with. Pushing the blade deep into her fake flesh, hearing the sickening squish that came with the action. He paused after he did so and looked up to try and gage her reaction to this. Not yet pulling the blade out.

Isabella: Edward was holding the knife as if it was a gun, with both of his hands gripping the handle. It was like he'd never held a knife before. He looked so terrified, so upset, and she just wanted to comfort him. Gosh, her poor Eddie. He had worked himself into such a state. Why hadn't he just talked to her? Watching him there, holding the blade out, she knew he couldn't do it. He wasn't able to damage her. Isabella swallowed thickly and kept walking closer. "It's okay, darling," she whispered, the way she used to when he had a nightmare and cried in her arms. The way she used to when he had a panic attack, and she had to calm him down. He looked as though he was about to cry. And all she wanted was to be here for him, to make him see sense and put the knife down.

He moved away, even now, and pressed himself against the table. But there was nowhere else to go. As she'd known he would, he had backed himself into a corner. "Don't be afraid," she said, staring straight into his beautiful eyes. Perhaps she could calm him down enough to come with her. It was a foolish delusion, and she knew it, but she had to be hopeful. This didn't have to end in violence. She didn't have to risk damaging Edward. Maybe he would put the blade down, and come with her, and she wouldn't have to drug him. Because, God, she didn't want to. This whole thing had gone horribly and, if she could do it all over again, she would. But they were here now, in the bright light of the kitchen, and Eddie was holding a knife, and she had to stop him from doing something he would regret.

And that was when he moved. It happened too suddenly for her to realise what was happening. She saw him lunge forward, pushing off the table. And she felt the metal pierce her stomach, the blade slide through her skin and rupture her muscle.

She froze.

Edward was so close. She could see the pores of his skin. She could hear his laboured breathing. The knife sank blade-deep into her flesh. She felt it go in. He had stabbed her. She could feel that he had, but she could not believe it. She looked down and saw the handle of the knife sticking out of the front of her sweater. Edward was still holding it. It had, indeed, happened. Oh my, she thought.

It didn't hurt. There was absolutely nothing. No pain, no hint of what she remembered as pain. Not even the psychosomatic tingle that she sometimes felt, to replace pain. She felt the knife inside her, right inside her stomach, the blade inserted into the wall of her organ. Even as she stood there, looking at the handle, she could imagine the rest of it right through her muscle, ending inside her body. There it was. In Edward's hands. He had stabbed her.

She looked up at him and frowned. And, as always when she was injured, there was an odd detachment from her own body. It was simply a vehicle which she moved around in, a lump of meat that carried her consciousness. The blade had not hurt. The damage was temporary. It would heal when he pulled it out. "You stabbed me," she said bluntly. He knew he wouldn't feel it. So why had he done it? Had he wanted to kill her?

Even the fact that he'd done it wasn't computing. Nothing felt entirely real. She couldn't even feel the agony of betrayal and hurt yet, at what he'd done to her. It was dulled by shock, and the uncanny sense of emptiness she got whenever she was injured. She just blinked at Edward, and tilted her head to the side. The strongest emotion she felt was confusion. Why had he done that? "You stabbed me," she said again, as if it would make more sense the second time. But it didn't. The love of her life had run a blade into her stomach. It made no sense.

Edward: Ed let out a small gasping sound after a moment. She was just standing there. Unmoving, looking confused. Speaking in disbelief. She really didn't think he wouldn't have done it? That he wouldn't have pressed the blade into her flesh? Sure, she must have thought there was no point. It wasn't about to stop her with that silly little action but Ed wasn't trying to stop her. Blood was notoriously hard to clean. When she came back later to clean it up, she was going to leave a few spots and Oswald was going to see it and then his boyfriend would track him down and rescue him from wherever she was about to take him. It seemed like she expected him to stay with her for a while, considering she was packing his things. That or maybe she was taking his stuff to make it seem like he just up and left Oswald. Like he did this on purpose. Like he wanted to go.

He stayed still in front of her, looming over her slightly. They were too close for his comfort now, so he twitched again. Starting to shiver a bit as she showed no real reaction to getting stabbed. He ripped a hole in her body and the woman had no reaction.

He gripped a little tighter onto the blade and finally after a long, long pause. Ed tore it out of her body and dropped it onto the ground. The sound of metal smashing against the tiled floor. A high pitched, annoying sound but at least this showed that he wasn't about to stab her again. He didn't want to make her angry. He just wanted her blood. He reached forward as though he was trying to stop the blood. Placing a hand on the flesh wound so it could get all over him. But as soon as the statue of Isabella made any sort of movement, a longer breath or an uncocked head, Edward stumbled right back backwards. Grabbing the table so he could get the blood up on the tablecloth.

Ed just stared at her for a while, with wide dark brown eyes. Taking in deep breaths and looking shocked himself. Despite doing all of this one purpose. "Just stay back from me." He finally found himself saying. "Don't come any closer to me!" He said, before glancing down at the floor where thick, dark blood was beginning to puddle from her wound. He looked up almost guilty for doing that, but in all honesty, if she came near him again, he was going to continue to struggle with her. He was going to continue to fight her until he couldn't anymore.

Her reaction to it was horrifying. It was like he pinched her, or poked her. She didn't feel it. She didn't feel the blade tearing deep into her body. He distinctly remembered the unbearable pain that came with it when he was stabbed like that from her. He remembered collapsing onto her helplessly as his body suddenly lost its ability to keep standing on its own. As he became weak and helpless.

But there she was, strong as ever. Blood soaking the fabric of her clothes, dripping onto the floor underneath her and he couldn't stop looking at her face. Like it never happened... like she was only confused. No pain in her eyes, no sudden weakness... She didn't even look like she was in shock. She just looked like a robot who hadn't been programmed to feel anything. He bit his lip and repeated himself in a breathy voice. Feeling sick to the stomach, feeling disgusted by her inability to feel. He shivered. "Stay back."

Isabella: After a few seconds, Edward pulled the blade out. She felt the metal slide out of her flesh, followed immediately by a stream of blood. The knife clattered on the kitchen floor, and Isabella thought, distantly, At least he won't stab me again. The sensation of blood welling up in the wound was incredibly unpleasant, and it poured down her front and dripped onto the tiles. She heard it splash thickly onto the ground. Edward reached forwards to stop it, and she swayed a little. He was touching her. It was a shame she had been stabbed. This should be nice. "It's okay, Edward," she said, softly. "It doesn't hurt." Because it didn't. It felt disgusting and warm and thick, but there was no pain.

He pulled away, and staggered back against the table. He was clearly shocked at what he'd done, and all she could do was look at him quizzically. It was still difficult to believe that had just happened and, were it not for the warm blood pouring from her stomach, she wouldn't have believed it. Slowly, moment by moment, Isabella felt herself coming back.

She blinked. The fact that Edward had stabbed her, had actually tried to damage her body, was registering on an emotional level. Whatever his intention had been – to slow her down, or upset her, or scare her away – he had wounded her. And, God, it didn't matter that he knew she wouldn't feel it. He had done it. And she was standing there, looking at him, with a bloodstain blossoming on her sweater, ruining it, dripping down her front. It was utterly embarrassing, and it meant she would have to stitch her flesh, which she hated doing. And, of course, there was the kitchen floor to clean. If Oswald saw any blood, he would know something had happened. She had to be sure to get every spot of blood, or risk some sort of search party. Edward had made more work for her, made this more difficult for her. He had attacked her.

All she had wanted to do was help him. She had wanted this to be good. She had been so gentle with him, so patient, even as he'd backed away like a scared little animal. Even as he'd tripped backwards in the dark, she had approached him slowly, tried to talk to him. Even though he was behaving like a terrified child, like a moron, she had treated him like the Edward she knew, and tried to calm him. And he had repaid her by stabbing her in the stomach and staring at her like she was freak. Oh, yes. She could see it in his eyes. Beneath the shock and fear, there was disgust. She loved him so, so, much, and he was treating her like a sideshow. He knew she couldn't feel pain, but he had done this anyway. And he had the gall to look at her like that?

"How dare you?" she said, quietly. "Look what you did." She could see the terror in his eyes, and she didn't care. Hadn't she told him she wasn't going to damage him? Hadn't she said again and again that she loved him? And he was still telling her to stay away, like she was diseased. She had been patient with him, as though his fear deserved any of her kindness. As if his stupid, irrational, terror was even worth paying attention to. Edward was intelligent, but his penchant for ridiculous bouts of terror was very irritating. And, right then, her patience had worn so thin it was non-existent.

She moved swiftly. She stepped forwards and grabbed his wrist with one hand, and twisted it sharply, easily, forcing him to turn around. It was like he was a ragdoll. Without even thinking, she pulled him close to her, and she felt the small of his back against her stomach wound, smearing his pyjamas with blood. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the handkerchief and pressed it against his mouth and nose. "I didn't want to do this," she hissed in his ear, righteousness filling her veins. She had given him every single opportunity. Every chance. And he had stabbed her. He had driven a blade into her stomach. "But you left me no choice, my love. Now, breathe deeply. You'll go faster if you do."

Edward: There was a moment where everything was almost fine. Where she wasn't even angry with him but as he watched the cogs turn in her mind, as he watched her think... something changed. She seemed calm until she started working out why he did it. He used to love telling her riddles or asking her questions just to make her think. He remembered so vividly, how much he loved it. How much he loved her, but now everything was different and it was horrifying to just watch her think. He stood there helplessly as she processed this. Taking that time to wipe his hand further on the tablecloth to spread even more blood. He waited for her to get upset or angry and sure enough it was there. The annoyance in her eyes. That little spark of fire as he refused to come quietly for her, and as he created more and more work for her. Too much for her to do by the time Oswald would get home. He lowered his head slightly as though he was ashamed, but it was only so she would be kinder physically to him when the time came to try and sedate him.

Surely enough she reached forward and snatched his wrist, twisting him and his arm uncomfortably. Like a cop would. He almost wondered for a moment if she learnt that little move from Tom but he didn't say anything. He just let out a sharp and uncomfortable gasp. Trying hard to struggle out of her grasp. Her blood soaking up against his back. The weird, sticky, warm feeling going right through his shirt. Just as swiftly as she grabbed him, a rag appeared on his mouth and nose and with his free hand, he tried to no avail to try and get her hand away from his mouth and nose. Holding his breath for as long as he could before his body made him take in a deep breath. He knew what she was doing to him, and he was trying not to breathe but he couldn't help it.

It took about five minutes for chloroform to knock someone properly out and it wasn't so long until he started to feel the dizzying effects. He let out a muffled yell and continued to try and struggle with all the strength he had but a few minutes of that struggling later and he started getting a lot heavier in her grasp and though he still tried to struggle... he was getting too worn out. His blinks were getting slower and his breathing just as slow as the drug started to work it's horrors. He let out a muffled, quieter moan as if he was still trying to get her to stop before he had gone completely limp against her body. Letting the darkness take him over.

He was completely limp against her now. His other hand down by his side, slowly slipping a bit to the ground because she wasn't holding him properly with his arm tucked behind his back. Finally quiet and still in her arms.

Isabella: Edward struggled, but Isabella kept holding his wrist tightly. She felt the strain she was putting on his shoulder as she twisted his arm back, and she did not care. He was so delicate, like a bird, and that meant he was easy to keep still. Even as he fought, she pressed the material against his face and waited. "Stop it," she said, sharply. "You're only making it more unpleasant for yourself." But she couldn't feel him breathing against her hand. She knew he was going to try to hold his breath for as long as he could, like a stubborn idiot. He wanted to take up as much of her time as possible, to make the window she had to clean up his mess even smaller. God, he was so selfish. She gritted her teeth as he struggled, and kept pinning him right against her. Her blood-soaked onto his pyjamas, but she hardly noticed. All of her attention was on him.

And then, after a short while, he inhaled deeply, gasping for air against his will. She knew he would be inhaling the chloroform, and she just had to wait. His struggles grew weaker, and slower, even though he kept trying to fight against her. It was pathetic now. He was so weak that it was taking almost no effort to hold him. As he got heavier and heavier, and stopped struggling, she just kept her grip on him. Almost gone now. It felt like he was dying in her arms, like his life was leaving him. His legs were giving way, and she took his weight easily. He had always been as light as a feather to her. Just skin and bones.

"I do wish you hadn't fought, darling," she said, quietly, as he slipped away. He moaned against the handkerchief, one final sound of defiance, and she just ignored it. "But don't worry. It'll be perfect when you wake up." And, just like that, his consciousness faded into nothing. She felt the last of his strength go, and his hand slipped down, and she held him with no effort.

Now that was taken care of, she picked him up in a bridal carry, and headed for the door. Her first priority was getting him to their home. Once he was there, and secure, she could return here and clean up as best as she could, and then, if she still had time, she could grab his clothes and a few books. But, after the trouble he had caused her, she wasn't sure if she would be able to keep to her schedule. As long as she had him at home, and cleaned up the blood, nothing else really mattered. He was with her now, for all his fighting and struggling. The way he was supposed to be.

[guttersvillemayor]

A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man

[A love for words had been instilled into me by both my mother and late father. I think it’s part of what drew them together. That and their wicked sense of humor which I also inherited. Or at least I hope I did. I’d like to think I have it as well… but I digress. It’s this love for books and such that usually brought me to my favorite room in my house. The library. It had been a fixture in the house since it was built in the 1920s. However, my father as an author and voracious reader decided to turn it into a true haven. When I had to do work from home, it was here that I loved to huddle away and get lost in the words. Once again the influence of words had helped lead me down the path into becoming a book editor. Every once in awhile I tried my hand at writing, but I found reading and editing was more my passion and what I had patience for. 

So that’s how I found myself in the library early one Saturday morning buried in a good book until small hands covered my eyes. A soft chuckle escaping me knowing exactly who it was that had come up behind me. “Guess who?” came out from a little, yet excited, voice.] Hmmm, I wonder who this ninja could be who sneaks into my house to find me in the library. Could it be… Nana Fifi? Uncle Eddie? Aunt Regan? Papa Steve? [A giggling no is replied after each name I offered until finally the young voice sounds almost incredulous that I hadn’t guessed who they were yet. “Aunt Gigi…” Letting go of the current manuscript I was reading, I bring my hands up to cover the ones’ over my eyes.] Amelia is that you? [My 2-year-old niece giggles even louder now that I’ve said her name and I gently pull her hands down to turn and look at her with a bright smile that is reflected on her sweet cherub fact.] Why hello there, silly girl. How did you get here? [Now that the game has been finished, she finds her way into my lap, climbing up the comfy chair that I had claimed as my own since I was young enough to want my own chair instead of sitting in my father’s lap. I had been blessed to still live in the childhood home that had been passed down through the Vaughn generations. “Daddy and Nana Fifi.” 

My family was an unconventional one, but it worked for my family quite well. My mother, Fiona Green, had been different than most women her age. She didn’t necessarily want to settle down and start a family, not that she was against children. She just was more interested in travelling the world and writing articles and such. It was during one of those free spirit trips that she came across an actor, Peter Rhodes, who was as much a free spirit as she was. And as my mother tells it, she somehow didn’t mind being tied to him because they still had that freedom even in marriage. He would go off to work his own projects while she did her stuff. Even once she got pregnant with my eldest half-brother, Henry. However, it was during one of his father’s projects that Peter was killed in a car crash and my mother lost the first major love of her life. I think it was this loss that made my mother seek out her second partner, for Stephen Carter is not nearly as free or artistic as my mother is. Probably why, though they stayed together on and off for several years, they never got married like she did with Peter. A part of what also kept drawing them together was their son, Edward. My second half-brother. 

The two raised my brothers in one of Stephen’s properties that he’d given my mother until she was tasked to interview Richard Vaughn, my father. By this point in her career she was doing more hard hitting pieces and columns than fluff pieces, and so the way they told it, she went into the interview perturbed and not really interested in my father or his book. However, she seemed to once again find a kindred spirit in my father. Since I was a child they never really explained how it worked out that she started seeing my dad when she was in her on-again, off-again relationship with Stephen. But I imagine it went by pretty easy as Stephen ended up being married to another lovely lady named Daisy for several years until she unfortunately lost her battle with ovarian cancer. My mother was able to help him through his grief this time around as she had been through her own experiences with that type of loss. Not only in the loss of Henry’s father, but also my own father at this point. He had unfortunately died from heart problems while I was still high school. It had been a rough time for both of us and I had been sent to stay on campus at The Northwest School while my mother lost herself in her work and travels. 

A part of me would be upset about this abandonment, if I hadn’t also gotten lost in my own creative pursuits to deal with my grief. Thankfully Stephen and Daisy were able to help my mother put herself back to rights and that’s probably part of the reason I’m not bothered that they once again picked up their relationship after both my father and Daisy died. The chances of either of them falling in love again was quite rare, and it was good to see that they could at least make each other happy. There was definitely love between them, just not to the same levels as with their other partners. Like I said, an unconventional family. Made even more so by my sweet niece Amelia… but that’s a story for another day. 

Brushing some hair out of her face and placing it behind her ears, I bend my head down to kiss her temple. Before I can ask what my brother and mother were up to, though it’s not like they didn’t have their own keys to the place, same as Edward. I had given them all the blanket invitation that my home was theirs. Amelia even had her own bedroom for when she stayed over with me. But my mother beat me to the punch, coming into the room seeking out Amelia asking if she’d found me yet. “Ahhh, there you both are. Did you interrupt Aunt Gigi while she was working?” My mother’s words barely hold a trace of a scolding and sounded more teasing. It was truly interesting to see the differences between the public persona my mother portrayed to most people and seeing her interact with us as kids and more so with her granddaughter. An almost mischievous smile crosses Amelia’s features as if she knew exactly what it is she’d done. My fingers dancing playfully up and down her sides.] Is that what you came to do? Distract me. [Her giggles were so loud they seemed to draw her father to the library doorway behind my mother. “There’s my little troublemaker. I hope she didn’t bother you, Georgie. Hopefully I can make it up to you with some food from Eddie’s place.” He waggles his eyebrows knowing I’d never turn down the food from my brother’s restaurant, Hat Trick. 

While Edward wasn’t a chef and actually could be found more in an ice rink, he had started a business venture with a childhood friend and talented chef, Shaw, that had become quite a profitable restaurant. It helped that his father, a major business man in the Seattle area, had been teaching him the tricks of his trade for several years with internships along with Edward getting a business degree from the University of Washington. When Edward finally decided to stop playing hockey, he’d have a serious job to fall back on. It was nice to see him well off and able to make something of himself. Meanwhile, Henry was doing well himself with his acting and playwriting, taking after his father in that field. My mother said that his talent, like mine, had been inherited from his father. There was an effortlessness to his talents, but he was happy just being a big fish in the small pond of Seattle’s theatre world. He’d done a few bigger things in Hollywood while studying at CalArts and for a while after he graduated before finally coming home to make a name for himself here. As for myself, I also went to UW like Edward. 

Some called me a bit too academic for my own good, but I was serious about getting a double major English as well as in Communications. Hell I even went back for my Master of Fine Arts in English, which I’d recently gotten, while working my way up in the publishing world. It didn’t seem like a lot when you had a passion for something. And if things worked out with Regan, it’d all be to my benefit. I couldn’t even begin to explain how I’d met Regan. It’s just one of those friendships that you find yourself in the middle of one day but you wouldn’t change it for the world. She was the closest thing I’d ever had to a best friend and yet she, or I, could fall of the face of the Earth for a bit without worrying. Like now, I hadn’t heard from Regan in a while since we last discussed her relationship with the enigmatic Christian Grey and seriously taking over a publishing company, something I'd pushed her to do for a while now. So I wasn't completely surprised she'd gone off somewhere, most likely her home in Malibu, but I knew one day she’d show up or call me and want to meet up at our coffee spot to check in and catch up. 

My thoughts turn back to the food from Hat Trick and I look between my brother, mother and lastly, my niece. My voice turning a bit silly as I pretend to go in for another bout of tickling.] Well then what are we waiting for? Let’s go eat and maybe we can catch Uncle Eddie on TV. [Amelia’s happy shriek only becomes louder as she throws herself from my lap and rushes towards her father, who easily scoops her up and heads back downstairs to the kitchen. My mother shooting me a look before following them once I say I’ll be right down. Yes, definitely an unconventional family and childhood, but not one I would change since it made me who I am today. I quickly set down my work and make sure it’s all in place before following them to the kitchen as I promised.]