#can you tell a green Stan got on my nerves today??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

Can you do a scenario where reader (male pronouns) kind of outs himself as bi and then hides for a while since it was an accident and he wasn't actually ready and after some time bakugo finds him and they end up awkwardly confessing to each other? Bonus points if you can do ComfortingTM class 1A (also I just really want bi representation 🥺)

BRO BRO ur reblogs and replies always make me BAM BAM

(Also y’all ik that gif is huge but it had denki AND baku in it and i felt compelled to use it bc kamis kinda important in the story NSNDNEKWK)

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Bakugou x reader - How to Out Your Classmate

⚠️warnings - being outed by your classmate (denki) (I’m sorry denki stans), bakugou kinda bulling kami at the end kdnfjekfj

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

It was something he didn’t mean to say.

Rather, it just slipped out.

————

“Ne, (L/n)-kun, don’t you think Yao-momos hair is kinda sexy today? Her hair down plus that hair clip is FIRE dude!”

Kaminari slung a arm around (Y/n’s) shoulder, while Mineta smugly grinned from his seat. He wiped away a line of drool dripping from his mouth.

“Oh oh oh, her hair falls over her boobs so perfectly! I just wanna touch them at least once, ehuheuheu...”

Sero sighed from his seat. “Dude. You really are a scumbag. Stop that.”

Mineta, not missing a beat, turned to Sero with a shit-eating grin. “Oh? Why’s that? Are you gay or something?”

(Y/n) visibly stiffened from under Kaminari’s grasp. Kaminari however, didn’t notice and played along into Mineta’s joke.

“Yeah dude, kinda sus. Don’t go perving on me in the locker rooms now, haha!”

Sero sighed once more, this time with a playful smile. “Shut up, your probably more sus than I am-“

He was cut off when (Y/n) started wriggling out from under Kaminari’s arm. The three looked at (Y/n) quizzically, while (Y/n) awkwardly coughed. “I’m...leaving.”

“Why? What happened?” Kaminari leaned on the back of Seros desk.

“Well-you guys are...loud and I’m going to my desk.” Even the dumbest person could tell how tense (Y/n) was. Though, Kaminari was as dumb as he was oblivious. He scoffed, but it sounded more like a chuckle.

“What? I don’t get it, man. We were teasing Sero, not you.” Kaminari’s teasing tone felt like heaters blasting full power through (Y/n’s) body. It was strange. You always felt kind of hot when you get a little flustered. “So what part of what we said bothered you?”

“N-nothing!” (Y/n) cursed at the way he raised his voice, cursing even more at his small stutter.

“Then why are you panties in such a twist? I’m just making fun of Sero bein’ sus.”

“W-well how fun! Move, class is starting.” Truth be told, class didn’t start until 10 minutes later. When (Y/n) tried to subtly push past Kaminari, he grabbed him by the arms and blocked his way out. “No way I’m moving! You’re mad for some reason, and I just wanna know why!”

“So what exactly did we do?”

Sero rested his chin on his palm. “Yeah if you can tell us we can stop doing it, (L/n)-kun. I gotta agree with Kami on this one.”

An irk mark appeared as (Y/n’s) face flushed a darker shade of pink. Not in the good way though. He struggled helplessly in Kaminari’s stronghold, before tching and looking away.

“There’s nothing more to say-! You’re just-starting to get on my nerves and I wanna leave-!”

“Really? That’s it?” Kaminari looked at (Y/n) skeptically, before his face lit up. “Oh wait!”

“You started getting all pissy when we were talking about Yaoyorozu...and you also got mad the other day when she was talking about Bakugou...”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“..So you like Yao-“

“I don’t fucking like Yaoyorozu!”

Now Kaminari was starting to get antsy. “Then what! Why are you mad! Is it because Mineta and I were ‘perving’?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ mad about you drooling over Yao-momos boobs! I’m not mad at all!”

Students started to gather once Kaminari and (Y/n) started to raise their voices higher and higher. Kaminari’s grip on (Y/n) was long gone, though (Y/n) was too upset to notice.

“If you weren’t mad about that, you were obviously mad about that time Yao-Momo talking about how Bakugou was attractive. So what? Do you like Bakugou or something? Are you gay?”

(Y/n) paled and grit his teeth. He was full on yelling now. “Stop saying that, damnit! I don’t like boys! Y-you know that!”

Kaminari gasped comically. “Oh my god! You totally avoided my question, dude!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! Now I get it! That’s what’s bothering you so much! It all makes sense!”

Kaminari’s mad expression morphed into one that you make when you solve a difficult question. It felt like all the blood in (y/n’s) face was drained, yet all the blood rushing to his cheeks burned like fire. Sero stood up from his chair and placed a hand on Kaminari’s shoulder. “Dude, uh-I think that’s enou-“

“Your confused because you’re straight but now you’ve started to like a guy, right?! Bakugou, right?!”

Seros warning went over Kaminari’s head completely. (Y/n) dug his nails into his palm while Kaminari pried into (Y/n’s) mind with his eyes.

“I’m not confused! I’m pissed. Very, very pissed at you!”

The blond haired boy slammed his arms down on Seros table and leaned in uncomfortably close. (Y/n) wanted to step back, but if he did, he’d run straight into Sero.

“Ok. If you answer this compleeeetely honestly, I’ll let you go. Swear! And we’ll never talk about this again! Just say yes or no! Nothing else!”

Sero glanced around the room. Everyone was staring, some had their hands over their mouths, and some were whispering and asking what was going on. Sero nervously tugged on the fabric of (Y/n’s) blazer. “U-um...yo... (y/n)...Kamin-“

“Do you like Bakugou?”

“I-“

“And don’t say you don’t like boys or you’re not gay, we ‘know’ that!”

“I’m-“

“Just say yes or no!”

“N-“

“Are you ga-“

“I’M BI!” (Y/n’s) sudden outburst silenced the classroom. It was like a blow from a king to shut up the commoners. “I’M BI, SO SHUT UP! ARE YOU HAPPY?! I’M NOT GAY AND I DON’T LIKE BAKUGOU! I DONT! I-I DONT. I don’t. I...”

Stagnant air flooded the 1-A classroom. Almost immediately, (Y/n) slapped both his hands over his mouth, eyes blown wide. Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “Uh...”

(Y/n) took a tentative step back, bumping straight into Sero. He reflexively grabbed onto (y/n’s) forearms, stabling him.

“Are you oka-“

“Don’t touch me!” (Y/n) pushed off of Seros body and stumbled over a desk. He crashed onto the ground and fumbled onto his bottom. Students upon students neared towards him, all their face and voice blending together into one big, muddy pile. Their voices eventually turned into ringing, louder and louder until-

“SHUT UP!” (Y/n) rose to his wobbly legs, half running and half crawling towards the door as fast as he could. He could hear the protestant shouts of his classmates, or even the sleepily confused expression of his teacher as as flew by him in the hallway.

He guessed he was skipping class that day.

————

40 missed calls from: Mina-San domoo-!!

125 unopened texts from: Mina-San domoo-!!

23 missed calls from: Kamiii ⚡️

45 unopened texts from: Kamiii ⚡️

12 unopened texts from: Iida Tenya.

5 unopened texts from: ura-chaaaan 💖

1 unopened text from: Bakugou

(Y/n) turned off his phone. He knew if he kept it on, Mina would keep spamming his phone with text messages.

It’s been about a few days since his whole freak out happened. He’d bolt out of class the second it was dismissed, and he kept himself either locked in his room, or out of the dorms as much as humanly possible. He wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet.

His phone buzzed again. He sighed, half expecting it to be another spam text from Mina. What he didn’t expect, was to see Bakugous contact photo on his screen, with the big green words “Incoming call-Bakugou” blaring at him so intimidatingly.

Something made him want to answer.

He pressed the phone to his ear.

“Oi.”

Bakugous gruff voice sent chills down the boys spine. His voice seemed to lock itself inside his throat, refusing to come out his mouth.

“Say something, dumbass.” Oh boy, was he trying. Everytime he opened his mouth, his throat closed up and refused to open again. Bakugou sighed harshly through the speaker.

“Stop being stupid and avoiding us-“ (Y/n) absentmindedly pressed the red “end” button. If Kaminari or Kirishima or whatever convinced Bakugou, to convince HIM to stop avoiding them, just because he ‘liked’ him, (and he totally did), he’d rather not hear it.

(Y/n) went to crumple up a piece of paper he was scribbling on, and drop it into the trash can, when it bounced on top and rolled away pathetically near his feet. His trash can was overflowing. Well, it was expected, since he was deliberately missing out on trash days just so he didn’t have to leave his dorm. (Y/n) swiped up the piece of paper, along with the trash bag lining the bin.

A few seconds outside couldn’t hurt. No one will see him. He’ll just...throw the bag in the dumpster, and slink back in before anyone knows he’s there.

————

(Y/n) hauled the trash bag into the dumpster, throwing it from out over his shoulder. He dusted off his hands and wiped forming sweat off his brow. The trash was out, no one saw him, all he had to do was slip back in his room before anyone sees him.

He huffed and turned around, immediately being smacked by a spiky tuft of blond hair. All the color drained from (Y/n’s) face. Bakugou turned his head and spat onto the dirt, clicking his tongue in the process.

“Figured you’d be here.”

”...there’s no way you could’ve-“

“It takes about a couple days for a small trash can to fill up. And knowing you, shit-for-brains, would come and take it out when no one was really watching. 5 pm, when everyone’s getting ready for dinner. You really do have shit-for-brains, shittyass.”

Bakugou may seem like a meathead, but the times he showed he was observant and intelligent made his heart tie knots around itself. (Y/n) bit back a stutter and a blush.

“W...ell, how-how’d you know I was going to take it out today? A-and to this dumpster, instead of the one on the other side of the dorms?”

Bakugou scoffed loudly, stalking closer to him. (Y/n) gulped. “This ones closer to your dorm room, even I know that, loser.”

Bakugous voice dipped, suddenly becoming uncharacteristically quiet. “...and I’ve been coming here everyday at 5 pm...shittyass...”

Bakugou was really dedicated to his scheme, huh. Just so he could see him? (Y/n)? He should be the LAST person Bakugou would want to see. Especially with what Kaminari was blabbering about. Still...It made (Y/n) feel a bit special.

But knowing Bakugou, he was just probably here to tell him how disgusting he was. Maybe he’ll start calling him ‘dick-for-brains’ instead of ‘shit for brains’. Or just plain on ‘fag’.

“Oi-stop spacing out and fucking listen to me! And don’t you dare run away until you hear me the fuck out!”

Bakugous palms flashed white, generating small blasts and he pointed an agitated finger at (Y/n). He stepped back reflexively.

“Um...well...what did you want then?” (Y/n) awkwardly fumbled with his hands behind his back, trying to keep still as much as he could. He wanted to disappear.

“Is it true?”

(Y/n) looked up. Bakugou was staring dead on, with his hands shoved stiffly in his pockets and sporting the faintest blush on his face. It was so unnoticeable, you could blink and miss it. That, and the trademark scowl, you could hardly tell if his face was red because of anger or something else.

“What is?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, fuckass! Do you like me or not?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Bakugou grunted and stepped closer. “Answer me!”

“S-so what if I do-?! You gonna call me a fag?!” (Y/n) was sweating bullets. He hoped Bakugou wouldn’t see how utterly nervous he was. Fake it til you make it. Though, he doesn’t know what he’d do once Bakugou goes flames blazin’ on his ass. He could all ready see his reaction-

Bakugou smirked. “Knew it.”

Knew it? (Y/n’s) nerves temporarily fizzled down, a wave of confusion washing over him. “...What?”

“God, do you need me to spell everything out for you? It was obvious. To me at least. Everyone was probably too fuckin’ dumb to notice.”

(Y/n) fell silent. He could speak if he wanted to, his throat wasn’t closing up, but he chose to keep silent. It’s not like he knew what to say, anyways. He was stunned into submission.

“-so I was right. Now, go out with me, Bitch.”

“Thanks. But I’ll pass.”

“I-“ Bakugou made a sputtering noise. (Y/n) wasn’t sure if he was caught off guard or sputtered out of sheer anger. “What?! Why the fuck not?!”

“Dude, how do I know you aren’t like, I dunno, being bribed by Kaminari or something to try and ‘prove that I’m bi’? Or that your just mocking me?”

“Idiot! Why the fuck would you think I’d listen to a dumbass like dunce face?! I fucking like you, you like me, I don’t see the problem here!”

(Y/n) knew he wasn’t lying. Bakugou was many things, a shithead, a piece of angry trash, but he wasn’t a liar. Still, he sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Dude, as much as I’d love to go out with you, there’s too much cons to it. I mean-first off, I don’t want people calling you a fag or anything because you’re with me...second, I’m...scared of how the class’ll take it, especially for someone like you-“

“Eh?! What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you fucki-“

(Y/n) pushed past him, accidentally brushing his shoulder in the process.

“...And third, even if I’m too scared how the class would react, I’m too prideful to let Kaminari ‘predictions’ win.”

He was gone before Bakugou could turn around.

————

(Y/n) was late to class on purpose that day.

He didn’t want to risk it with Bakugou, Kaminari, anyone. He’s more afraid of the class than he is of getting scolded by Aizawa. And that was saying something.

So when he walked in the door, Bakugou gripping Kaminari’s tie and releasing small blasts in the air with his wound up hand, he didn’t know if he should replace ‘Getting Scolded By Aizawa’ with ‘Getting Murdered By Bakugou’ in his worries for today.

“Fucking idiot!” Bakugou growled, spit flying onto Kaminari’s face as he set off another blast. It was small enough not to cause damage to any desks or chairs around them, but it was close enough to Kaminari’s face to make him yelp. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Ow!” Kaminari half yelled-half whimpered. Bakugou’s hands heated up, glowing orange from under Kaminari’s chin. “Hey-HEY! Chill-!W-what did I even do?! OW!”

Bakugou slammed him against his desk by his blazer. “It’s your fuckin fault that shit-for-brains won’t go out with me!”

Another blast. This time, fired in the air but much bigger than before. Kaminari flinched. “Ah! S-shit-for...(L/n)?! How is it my fault?!”

“It’s your fault because you made him all scared and shit to go out with me! With your stupid prying ass! Now he won’t go out with me until I get you to apologize! So apologize so I can have a fuckin boyfriend! Go die!”

(Y/n) looked around the room. No one was trying to stop Bakugou from literally roasting Kaminari alive. Not even Iida. Everyone stood there, eyes locked on Kaminari or recording them while stifling snickers. (Y/n) walked up to Mina, who was recording and whispering commentary near the speaker.

“Uh...what’s happening? Why’s no one stopping Bakugou?”

Mine looked up. “Well-he kinda deserved it. I mean, he did act like a dick to you a few days ago. Bakugou’s just givin’ him a piece of his mind.” She fixed her angle on her phone, hunching down slightly in the process. “Also, glad to see you talking to us again, (L/n)~”

(Y/n) glances around the room once more. Everyone seemed to silently agree. Though, Iida looked like he was going to explode in his seat. Poor Iida. Poor Kaminari.

(Y/n) was brought out of his mind when Mina slowly panned her phone over to him. He was about to question her, when Kaminari was thrown carelessly at his feet. Bakugou kicked at Kaminari’s hunched figure, stepping on his back with his hands clenched in his pockets.

“Say it.”

Kaminari made a wheezing noise.

“FUCKIN’ SAY IT!”

“I-I’m sorry for outing you in-in front of our classmates...”

Bakugou dug his foot into Kaminari’s back. “LOUDER!”

“I’M SORRY-OW! FOR O-OUTING YOU IN FRONT OF OUR CLASSMATES-!”

Bakugou gave Kaminari a look saying to ‘keep going.’ Kaminari shot back with a face that said ‘dude. What you want me to say is fucking stupid.’

Bakugou snarled and fired another mini explosion into the air. Kaminari squeaked and looked up at (y/n), who had the most confused look on his face. Kaminari sighed.

“And...totally I don’t think that you and Bakugou are gonna get together...totally unexpected...”

Kaminari, even if he was about to be best to a pulp, couldn’t help the snicker from leaving his mouth. Bakugou, you dumb fuck. He was probably thinking back to the time (Y/n) said ‘I’m too prideful to let Kaminari ‘predictions’ win’. Even so, that was just dumb. Even for Bakugou.

Bakugou huffed contently, while Kaminari shakily pulled himself up. Bakugou thunked him on the head again. “There. Now you have no fuckin’ reason not to be my boyfriend. If you don’t I’ll kill you.”

(Y/n) hummed out of hesitation. “Ehhhh...but...”

“We allowed Bakugou to rough up Kaminari, which is a CLEAR violation of the rules, the least you could do is say yes, (y/n)-kun! Though I do believe Bakugou should be punished for his harsh actions.”

Iida jutted out from his seat, swinging his arm in the air. Everyone stayed silent for a second, until Tsuyu stepped forward. “I agree with Iida-Chan, kero. You two would look nice together.”

One by one, the class started saying how ‘cute’ they’d be together or that they didn’t care that (y/n) was Bi, much. It was different from when the class was clamoring around him, instead of all their voice blending together in one big ring, he could hear every single persons song of praise. He supposed it was alright. It wouldn’t hurt as much as he think it would.

(Y/n) sucked in a breath, and turned his head to Bakugou. He looked at (Y/n) almost expectantly.

“...fine....you win...you better take care of me, Bakugou.”

He turned his head and scoffed. “Idiot. I was gonna do that regardless.”

Mina started clapping and wolf whistling. Eventually, everyone started to clap and ‘aww’ed, before quickly rushing to their seats once they heard groggy footsteps approach the door.

A man with shaggy hair walked in. The class sat silent, staring at Aizawa. He sniffed and trailed his eyes around the room.

Setting his sleeping bag behind his podium, he pursed his lips. “Where is Kaminari?”

“W-whey...”

Kaminari was laying on the floor next to (y/n’s) seat, smiling dumbly with burn marks. He was pumping his fists with his thumbs sticking out. Everyone broke into a cold sweat.

“Would anyone like to tell me why Kaminari is out of his seat?”

Oh fuck.

Bakugou got 3 days house arrest.

——————

Jdjdjejejc this was real fun to write HAHAHAHA I’m lowkey proud of it

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x male reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #class 1 a x reader #x male reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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julies-butterflies · 3 years

Text

hot, hot! (ooh, we got it) // 2100+ words, gen fic, post-canon, HOT CHOCOLATE PARTY

( read on ao3 here! )

Their first national tour has opened up a lot of new opportunities — more than Julie or her Phantoms could have ever dreamed of.

The coming back to life thing is… weird, sure. It’s definitely thrown a few bumps in the road. The band still manages to deal with it, through a combination of modern technology and keeping secrets from the internet (which can only last for so long, when every band member now has Instagram stan blogs — but still, they cope). Julie and the Phantoms are an overnight online phenomena. Wherever they play, they sell out venues. After getting signed with Andi

Parker and dropping their first EP, it was only a matter of time before a tour lined up. They’re not headlining — still too green for that, too unknown — but an opening act for a much larger band still gets them buzz, and major credit to their name.

Julie and the Phantoms are rising up.

Of course, the Phantoms no longer being 100% Phantoms opens up lots of new opportunities, too.

“You guys — seriously? You’ve never — I mean, like, ever ever?”

“Not recently,” says Willie, saluting with two fingers. “I’m still dead.”

Alex wraps an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders, as if this is a technical problem with an eventual solution. “We live in L.A., Reg,” he adds with a roll of his eyes. “Seventy percent of the year, it’s too hot for coffee. When and why would we need to try hot chocolate?”

“Because it’s the best thing ever!” Reggie has a habit of speaking with his entire face. It’s like watching an overly-chatty mime. Today, the mime is very enthusiastic.

Luke huffs, flopping backwards on the tour bus loveseat in a way that makes everyone else wince, because that sound was definitely his spine cracking — but he doesn’t even seem to notice “It’s okay. I mean, my folks and I went on ski trips a few times, up in San Gabriel. Hot chocolate ain’t nothing to brag about.”

Reggie jabs a finger his way. “You aren’t having the right kind of hot chocolate!”

Alex sounds morbidly curious. “There’s a right kind?”

From where they’re lounging on the couch, draped over each other in layers of laziness, Julie and Flynn exchange amused glances. Let the boys keep going, and they’ll bicker until the tour’s passed through Aspen completely. They’ve already got plans for tomorrow afternoon, the only day off of performing — Willie wants to take Alex on the snowboarding slopes, ignoring the damage it’ll do to his poor nerves, while Julie and Luke plan to hit the ski slopes… together. As a sort of date-that-is-absolutely-not-a-date-but-also-absolutely-isn’t- not.

Oh, and Reggie will be around, too.

(“Can you just —“

“What?”

“Reggie,” Julie emphasizes, gesturing over her shoulder to where the boys were rolling around outside the door bus, making snow angels and pelting each other with fistfuls of white powder. At least Alex has his boyfriend — the band’s official dead roadie — to keep him company. If Julie and Luke go off together, what’s Reggie going to do with his spare time? Sitting by the lounge fireplace reading dad magazines with Julie’s father? Not that Ray wouldn’t be happy to have him, but...

Flynn doesn’t take much convincing; she’s weak to Julie’s puppy dog eyes, no matter how she’ll try to deny it. “Fine,” she mutters, inclining her head towards the boy currently facedown in a snowdrift, scrambling like a drunk giraffe as he tries and fails to get up. “I’ll keep Eddie the Eagle entertained.”

Julie happens to know Reggie is weirdly good at most coordination-sports, and Flynn can’t ice skate to save her life; she’d pay to see them on the slopes together tomorrow.)

Still, they might not end up going anywhere tomorrow if the boys spend all their time bickering… about hot chocolate, of all things.

“Are you kidding me? Who uses peppermint —“

“It livens up the flavor! I’m telling you, man, you don’t know the first thing about a great cup of cocoa-Joe!”

“Call it that again and I swear to god —“

Over Alex’s shoulder, Willie and Flynn catch each others’ eyes, arching identical brows. Should we do something! We should do something, right? With the smallest shrug, Flynn turns to Julie; realizing the potato’s been passed to her, Julie’s nose crinkles. Willie makes an earnest face, nodding towards the bickering bandmates. Flynn just elbows her.

“Fine,” she mutters — and sits up straight, sending Flynn flailing over the side of the couch. “Guys!”

The boys pause in their bickering, and as one, turn towards her.

“I’ve got an idea!” Slowly, Julie allows a smile to creep across her lips. “Tomorrow, after we all come in from the cold, let’s all have hot cocoa.” She can’t help giggling at the way Reggie’s face lights up. “I’ve never had it either — it bet it’ll be fun!”

Reggie bounces — actually bounces — across to the sofa, like an over caffeinated kangaroo. “Yes! Yes! Oooh, Julie, I’m gonna make this so good for you! Leave it to me, your first cup of hot cocoa is gonna be an experience.”

“At this point I’m getting scared what’s in this stuff,” Alex mutters. “Is it crack? That would explain a lot.”

Willie muffles a snort in Julie’s sweatshirt.

“Nah, Reggie’s just —“ Luke makes a few vague gestures their bandmate’s way. “Sorta like that.”

“Just say no, Reggie!” Alex exclaims.

Julie cuts off their bickering again with a clap of their hands. Within minutes, they’ve got roles assigned; Reggie and Flynn will leave the slopes early to get the ingredients together, and get the actual hot chocolate making started. They won’t need much, apparently; they can put it all together right on the tour bus. Julie trusts Reggie, under Flynn’s supervision, to know what he’s doing, and not burn down the bus kitchen again.

As she leans back, she can’t help smiling. A part of her is actually excited. Experiencing winter for the first time just isn’t the same without a taste of it… and if Reggie’s right, hot chocolate is an opportunity you can’t miss out on.

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

It’s an experience, alright.

Reggie and Flynn get the treats ready in record time; by the time the two couples return to their tour bus (Luke and Julie hanging off each others’ arms, cheeks flushed from the cold; Alex and Willie both covered head-to-toe in white powder, like they wrestled each other for possession of Aspen’s biggest snow drift), steaming drinks are laid out around the table. Reggie stands with his hands on his hips, beaming with pride; Flynn, perched on the counter, swings her legs like an utter show-off.

“Get it while it's smoking!” she calls, waving the group inside.

Even Alex has to admire the effort. The drinks look miles better than the generic Starbucks lattes Carrie always loved so much. Nothing fancy, Julie considers, peering down at the rich, dark liquid steaming in her cup, but it smells amazing.

She’s just started to lift the drink to taste when she’s intercepted.

“Nuh-uh!” Flynn cuts her off, pulling the mug back from her lips. Julie looks up in absolute affront. “No drinking it black,” her best friend chides, enthusiastically shaking a cool-whip can. “You’re getting the whole experience.”

In moments, Julie’s nursing a mug topped off with a mountain of whipped cream, a dozen puffy mini-marshmallows, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top.

She will admit, Flynn turned it into a masterpiece.

“How can I drink it?” she asks, baffled. “The whipped cream will go all over.”

Reggie looks up from his own cup, his mouth and nose smeared with white foam. “Yeah, that’s part of the fun!”

Reggie clearly has his own ideas of “fun”. His drink is an art project unto itself; not only has he gone overboard on the whipped cream, nearly overflowing his entire mug, and sprinkled enough marshmallows to fill a small concert venue... Reggie also broke out the rainbow sprinkles, and chocolate syrup. His hot cocoa is way beyond the point of recognizable. Starbucks could never.

From across the counter, Alex eyes Reggie’s drink like it’s going to bite him. “Remember we were talking about drugs?” he muses. “They actually might be better for you.”

Reggie huffs, clutching his cocoa close. “This is a masterpiece.”

“Don’t argue with him,” Luke mutters, elbowing Alex in the side. “His blood’s gotta be half-chocolate at this point. He’s not putting in anything he can’t survive.”

“We said that about the street dogs, too,” Alex mutters, stirring his cocoa with a spoon. Willie nudges him in the leg; Alex looks over, catches his boyfriend’s grin, and some tension in his shoulders relaxes.

(Willie, still being seventy percent ghost, can’t actually drink anything. He doesn’t mind, though — three decades is a long time to get used to watching other people eat, without being able to enjoy it yourself. Watching the boys eat, Julie has noticed, is one of Willie’s favorite hobbies. It’s like watching a bunch of feral wolves descending on raw meat.)

“Alex, how do you want yours?” Flynn asks, leaning across the counter.

“Black! Like my soul,” he says cheerfully.

Luke sighs. “Bro.”

Flynn shrugs, tucking away her whipped cream can. Julie, on the other hand, isn’t fooled. She watches Alex very discreetly reach across the counter and sprinkle a tiny bit of cinnamon into his chocolate drink; smirking, she leans across Willie’s stool to whisper, “pretty sure we have pink mini-marshmallows in the top cupboard.”

Alex’s head shoots up. His eyes are sharp and eager. “Please.”

Luke, in the meantime, has kept himself busy piling his entire cup with marshmallows. Nothing else, just… marshmallows. An entire mountain of them, spilling over the top of his mug — and the manic look in his eyes suggests he’s absolutely thrilled .

Flynn makes a face. “Nasty.”

Luke grins up at her with a mouth stuffed full of marshmallows. His cheeks are inflated like a hamster; a few spill out when he opens his mouth, and Alex quickly scrambles out of the way.

Something is very wrong with Julie’s brain, because it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

She nurses her mug, allowing it to cool against her chest and relishing the warmth as it bleeds out. Not everyone is made for cold weather, and Julie has quickly figured out she’s warm-blooded by nature. The drink is soothing, like a balm to freezer-burned skin, even if she knows better than to drink it y—

“GAH!”

Julie jumps, nearly spilling her cocoa as she spins sideways. She’s just in time to see Luke slam his mug down on the counter, and immediately start fanning his open mouth like a maniac. His noises of distress could summon a goat in heat.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Reggie exclaims, as confused as he is alarmed. Luke’s desperation increases.

Quizzical, Reggie looks down at his own mug, before taking a large sip.

Then it’s his turn to yell, nearly tossing his drink across the room as he scrambles to set it down.

Alex shakes his head, looking between his two best friends incredulously. “Oh, come on, it cannot be that bad.”

To prove it, he takes a sip of his own cocoa.

And immediately sprays it across the counter.

“Ow! Oh my gahhmm-mhh!”

Suddenly, Julie understands how they all managed to die of food poisoning at the exact same time.

“Oh, Jules,” Flynn mutters, balancing her elbow on her knee and leaning forward, just to watch. “Your band’s not gonna survive the winter.”

Willie, absolutely no help, is laughing so hard he actually tumbles off of his chair. He hits the floor and immediately curls in on himself, convulsing in giggles. None of the boys have the wherewithal to be offended, considering they’re all jumping up and down, fanning their own mouths — fanning each others’ mouths — and yelling like grandpas at a hard rock concert.

Julie buries her head in her hands, and wonders whether to laugh or cry.

In the end, it probably doesn’t matter. The boys will be fine in a few minutes, and maybe a little smarter for the experience. Julie blows on her hot chocolate, observing as the whipped cream slowly melts in the mug. Before doing anything rash, she tests it with her finger; when it doesn’t come away burned, she raises it to her lips and takes a tiny sip.

Honestly, she wasn’t expecting to be blown away… but she’s never tasted anything like homemade hot chocolate before. It’s sweet and steamy, a burst of ecstatic flavor on her tongue; one sip, and she’s already going back for more.

“This is amazing,” she blurts out, looking up. A dab of whipped cream lingers on her upper lip, but her grin is too wide to concern herself with licking it away.

Reggie, holding his burned tongue between two fingers, manages a thumbs up. Flynn just winks at her.

Overall, Julie would call their first ever hot cocoa experiment a success — even if it did take three quarters of the band out of commission. It was definitely worth it, just for a taste of heaven, enough to dull the winter in her bones and warm her blood with laughter.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #my fics #ok this one is lowkey just... the DAY i got into this fandom was the day of that really big snowstorm #and i was just bingeing the song performances on youtube while drinking hot cocoa and thinking 'hey this slaps'#so hot cocoa and jatp have an intimate relationship in my mind #of course i had to write a hot cocoa fic

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 6

Eddie was bored. Like, really bored. Both his health studies and his history class had been slow, more introductions than actual work, which was total bullshit. With no homework, no studying, Eddie was lost. He didn't have many hobbies thanks to the cage his mother had forced him into (pencil lead will poison you Eddie-bear no drawing and also skateboards are death traps and you'll stab your eye out with a knitting needle oh dear oh no) so he really had nothing to do. He was sat on the sofa with his eyes trained on the TV though he hardly registered the news channel playing, foretelling the Tuesday weather. Bill was on the other end of the couch, the soft sounds of his pastels gliding across thick paper just barely heard over the Anchorwoman voice of Cindy Williams. If he were back in Derry, Eddie would most likely be down in the barrens, sitting with three jackets and a scarf (even though it wasn't that cold just yet) on the banks of the Kenduskeag with Stan and Bill at his sides. Maybe they would be playing go-fish or maybe they'd have brought down Eddie's Parcheesi board or maybe they'd just be talking and talking and talking about God-knows-what. With the third of their party, Stan, at work for the evening neither Bill nor Eddie felt adventurous enough to bother going out and wandering the streets of Portland in search of something to do. The rain had yet to return, the sun from the day prior still holding strong, but despite the warmth that was promised Eddie would rather just stay inside and wallow. A sudden, too-loud beeping sound erupted form Eddie's left pocket, making both him and Bill simultaneously leap right out of their skin. Eddie actually let out a shout, his heart soaring into the air and then plummeting all at once. It was just his phone. His phone was just ringing. He didn't need to freak out. Jesus.

"Sorry-" He apologized quickly to Bill, shooting him an irritated glance and pulling his phone from his pocket. Leaping to his feet (he didn't want to disturb Bill any longer, since he had already pulled him from his drawing trance) he hurried away towards his room, slipping past his door and answering his call, finally silencing that infuriating Nokia ringtone. It had always gotten on his nerves. "Hello, this is Eddie Kaspbrak?"

"Why didn't you call me?" Eddie went rigid, stiff as a board, the voice in his ear the last one he currently wanted to be hearing- why didn't he check the number before picking up? Shit, he thinks to himself, and then immediately worries that he might have spoken that aloud- it was his mother, contacting him for the first time since he was swept away by his two best friends. "I was worried for you, Eddie-bear. Why didn't you call me?" Sonia's tone is weird, off-sounding, and Eddie can detect a multitude of different emotions both fake and real even through the crackly distorting of his speaker.

"Mommy, I- I'm sorry, I totally forgot," It's difficult to find any words right now. How had Eddie forgotten to call his mother? She and Derry, home, had been on his mind so frequently that it was genuinely astonishing that he hadn't thought to call her. Of course, he didn't want to call her, he was terrified of what she'd say to him on the subject of his schooling, his 'running away', but- how had the thought never once crossed his mind? "With school starting and trying to get used to everything here I've been really busy and-"

"Are you being worked too hard over there? What time are you waking up? Going to sleep? It's probably cold over there today, you'd better be wearing your jacket," His mother's voice washed him with a feeling of illness. Instead of listening to her words, her senseless pestering, he tried to pick apart what feelings shone through he words. Those jumbled tones, all different, were confusing. Eddie managed to pick out the sickly-sweet tone that Sonia often adopted when she was covering up her rage or her hurt or discomfort- it was the tone that promised a silent terror, a silent wrath. If he had to compare that voice to anything else in the world it would be like the moment before a tiger pounces and tears you limb from limb. Despite her efforts to hide it, her anger shone through nonetheless, sending a shiver down Eddie's spine. Sonia Kaspbrak was furious. "-Home again and then everything will be alright, won't it Eddie? It'll be just fine again and I can-" The phone erupted into ringing once more. Eddie winced, ripping the device away from his ear as the little Nokia chime blew out his right eardrum.

"Mommy, mom- I'm getting another call, please just give me a moment-"

"Don't put me on hold, Eddie! Don't you dare put me on-" Eddie put her on hold. He let out a huff as her voice finally went silent and another one took it's place. To say the least, this one was no more pleasant.

"Hey, Eduardo! Nice of you to answer!" Richie was loud, too loud, but Eddie put up with it because at least he wasn't Sonia.

"What do you want, Richie?" His words came out clipped, snappy- significantly more rude than he had meant, which is a surprise, because he did mean to be a little rude. He grimaced at his own voice and could basically see Richie's confusion on the other end.

"Woah there, Eds, what's gotten your panties in a twist? Doesn't matter- I have a proposal to make."

"I- Richie, sorry, now isn't the best time I have another call on the line-"

"Today is our weekly 'Taco Tuesday', but Mike and Ben both got called into work last minute. It's just me, Bev, and wayyyy more tacos than any person can safely eat." Eddie hadn't noticed he had begun to pace. He didn't want to hang up on Richie, but the burning anxiety bubbling like boiling lava in his stomach was direly unpleasant and spreading by the second. His mother would be pissed. "I know Stan the Man's got work today, but why don't you and Bill swing by for dinner and a movie? It can be our first date, what do you say?" Though his tone was teasing, Eddie's face went red. He began to pace quicker- he wouldn't be surprised if he burned holes right into the carpet.

"Yeah- sure- whatever- I have to go, Richie," The quickest way out of this conversation was to agree, and so Eddie did just that, without really thinking it through. He could stomach a night at Richie's, especially if Bill and Bev were there. Beverly was nice, and Eddie wouldn't mind getting to know her better.

"Aha, that's a yes Bevvie! I told you they'd wanna come! Alright, you know the address, be here whenever, we don't have any pla-" Eddie jammed his thumb down onto the 'hang-up' button and then his mom was on the other end again.

"Sorry, I'm back," Eddie's heart was thumping unnaturally fast. His asthma inhaler was on his vanity, only two steps away, but he couldn't use it or else who knows what his mother would do and say. He wouldn't be surprised if she came speeding all the way to Portland. "What were you saying?"

"Who was that, Eddie-bear? You were gone for so long I thought you might have hung up on me or something!" A retort on the tip of his tongue, Eddie swallowed his annoyance- after all, he was only gone for about thirty seconds- and put on his own false voice.

"It was just a telemarketer, mommy, it's alright. Sorry for making you wait, but I do have to go now. I need to eat dinner." That was a general truth. Sonia didn't need to know what he was having for dinner, just that he was having it. She would lose her mind over tacos- too fatty, the shells can hurt your teeth, cut your gums, you have delicate gums Eddie- and so it was best not to tell her at all.

"Oh Eddie, I miss you so much! Please, please call me and maybe we can organize a visit? Maybe I can come over and say hello? You can show me your school?" 'Show me your school' was code for 'Let me point out every dangerous little thing so that you have a panic attack and have to come home'. "I love you, Eddie-bear, I love you so so so so so-"

"I love you too mom, I have to go. I'll call. Bye." The call was ended. It was almost as if a weight was lifted off of Eddie's shoulders. He staggered over to his desk, picking up his inhaler and staring down at it. It looked foreign in his hands, dangerous, maybe- but heavenly at the same time. Eddie would have taken a puff if it weren't for Bill's footsteps approaching his doorway. He dropped the device quickly, spinning to the door just as Bill pushed it open, peeking his head inside and offering Eddie a small, tentative smile.

"That was your muh-mother?" He asked, pushing the door the rest of the way open and letting the golden hallway light shine through, banishing the growing sundown shadows, "Is everything oh-okay? Are you okay?" Eddie smiled- the expression was fake, but boy was Eddie good at pulling off fakes.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm great. It was my mom, and Richie, too- He wants us to come over for tacos or something. I don't really know, I was hardly listening. Beverly's there, I think, but Ben and Mike are at work." Bill's own smile grew into something more genuine, less frightened. He nodded his head.

"That sounds gr-great, actually. I'm stu-starving." Eddie let the anxiety from the call with his mother wash away.

-----

"Heya, Big Bill! And Eds, too, just swell- come in, come in!" Pulling his door wide open, Richie swept out an arm, "Welcome to my humble abode! Take a look around, make yourselves comfortable- it's a pretty nice place when it isn't crawling with teens." Bill and Eddie stepped through the threshold, into Richie's apartment. Richie noted with a burst of pride the way his guests both ogled, their gazes raking across the space they'd stepped out into.

To their immediate right sat a modern/retro kitchen, an odd mixture of sleek black marble and sickeningly bright reds, oranges and yellows. There was a massive green fridge covered nearly top to bottom in different papers, school tests and flyers and sketches of clothing and poems and- God, who knows?- all locked in place by random magnets picked out of gift shops and shopping centers and delivered as gifts. The kitchen was bordered off by a peninsula, three red bar stools, one of which was an entirely different shape and brand, seated at it's side. There was a fruit bowl on the counter though it held no fruit- instead it was filled with different CD cases from all the big rock bands and even some smaller ones that hardly anybody ever heard of. Other than the fruit bowl there were also takeout boxes, lots of them, containing the tacos and other miscellaneous snacks Richie had ordered for dinner.

Past the kitchen sat the living room, and it was just as chaotic. The couch was nice, a simple grey with a detached ottoman of the same colour. On top of that couch was a multitude of different pillows and cushions- one was blue, another green, just normal squares, but then there were also the stranger pillows like one shaped to be an electric guitar and another taking the form of an octopus with long, dangling legs- as well as too many knitted blankets to count thrown over the backrest. A rug sat across the floor, swirling, psychedelic, red, brown, orange. The regular lights were off and instead the golden glow of the setting sun cast the room alight. All over the walls were different posters for movies and bands- there were even some records hung about. If Richie had to use one word to describe his home, that word would be 'radical'.

"Hey, guys," Bev waved from her spot on a bean bag chair sandwiched between the couch and the huge, yawning, nearly floor-to-ceiling window on the far end of the room, "You're finally here, Jesus I'm starved! Richie made me wait for you two before eating," She climbed to her feet, her mass of scarlet hair tied behind her head with a pale pink scrunchie. Richie just rolled his eyes, crossing to those red bar stools and letting himself fall down into one with a dramatic huff directed at Beverly.

"Suh-sorry we took so long," Bill said with a grin, apologetic and sincere just like his smiles always were, "We got a l-little caught up." Richie didn't fail to notice the way that Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, looking like he might shrink into the earth. Why?- Richie couldn't be sure- but the boy didn't look comfortable in the slightest and something about that put his stomach in a knot. Without even realizing it, Richie found himself taking on a silent mission- make Eddie laugh, genuinely, at least one time tonight.

"No problemo, my good friends! Take a seat, take a seat- Bev can stand," Richie grinned, a toothy smile screaming mischief and teasing- Beverly didn't waste a single moment before ramming her fist against his shoulder, effectively threatening him out of his chair and leaving it free for her to take instead. "Oi!" Richie hunched his shoulders, screwing up his face to the best of his abilities. Snatching up a plastic butter knife, he pointed it at his friend, taking on a New Yorker's accent, becoming a character that was still in the works- Wyatt, the Homicidal Bag-Boy, "You put those doi'ty paws nea' me again an' I'll cut 'em 'ight off an' bake 'em in this weeks bread!"

"I haven't heard that character before," Eddie said, mostly to himself, but he shot a glance in Richie's direction and almost looked something near impressed.

"Hu-how do you do it? How do you swi-switch between these Voices so e-easily?" Bill asked, following Beverly, who was the one to start the feast, in ripping open the top of a takeout box to reveal the food inside of the first- five tacos were stood side-by-side-by-side, overflowing with different toppings. Richie bought from a local food truck down the street, and they made the very best authentic tacos in all of Portland.

"A pact with the devil and a few sacrifices," Richie shrugged, pushing in past Bev and Bill to reach the food for himself, "And lots and lots of practice." In all honesty, his Voices came to him as if it were breathing or walking. They were a part of him for a multitude of reasons, but most of those reasons were more private than he'd like to admit. Briefly, he pointed out what different items were, which tacos had what toppings and which ones were his personal favorites (Not even he knew if he was telling them his preferences to get them to stay away or because he thought they'd like them too). Only after he had filled his plate with more tacos than he could eat did he step back to let the others pass, though he did notice that Eddie was sitting patiently and waiting for the others to serve themselves up first like the gentleman he had shown himself to be. "Here, Spaghetti-man. Try this one," Out of the kindness of his own heart, Richie sacrificed one of his chicken avocado tacos despite the scowl Eddie gave him thanks to the nickname, and despite the fact that they were the best of the best, "They're perfect," making an 'ok' sign with his fingers, Richie kissed at the air like a chef complimenting his craft. Then, he stepped around Eddie and hopped up to sit in the counter to his right.

"Jesus, Richie, you're lucky I love you or else I would have eaten these ages ago," Bev said, and then took a too-big bite out of her food. As if it were karma for stealing Richie's stool, she accidentally inhaled a flake of cheese or maybe lettuce, hacking out a cough and dropping her taco down onto her plate to thump her fist against her chest- immediately, concern was scrawled across Eddie's face, and he was about to leap to his feet to help her when she held out a finger and cracked a goofy smile. "All-" she choked out, and then buried her face into her sleeve, "All good-" Eddie was already putting his plate down and moving to get out of his chair. His mouth began to run a mile a minute, speaking so quickly that even Richie, ADHD in human form, could hardly piece the words together.

"Are you sure? I know the Heimlich maneuver- CPR too- and I have 9-1-1 on speed dial. You could damage your throat or your lungs and you don't always recover from stuff like that, even if it's just-"

"Woooooah there, Eds! She's just fine, trust me- she always does this. Bev's a bit of a blockhead in that aspect," Speaking through a mouthful of food, Richie placed his hand on Eddie's shoulder to keep him in his seat, "She seems to like choking on food almost as much as-"

"Bee' bee' Ri'ie!" Her face red, still choking, Bev found it necessary to end that train of thought then and there. She lunged across the counter, one hand connecting with Richie's side, and pushed him right from his seat. He hardly had time to catch himself, letting out a startled shout and almost dropping his plate. Bill's face split with an ear-to-ear grin and even though he had never heard that phrase, Beep Beep Richie, in his entire life, he knew that it was a part of him now just as much as any of this- He was laughing away, his eyes bright like small suns or maybe reminiscent of the glow of something alien, like a life force in the form of light or the glint of shiny teeth though that wasn't what Richie was paying attention to. Instead, through his thick glasses, he was staring at Eddie and passing him rapid glances out of the corner of his eye, trying to confirm his suspicions and to ease his surprise. Eddie Kaspbrak seemed to be smiling, just a little tiny quirk of his lips- on any other face this smile would have meant nothing but the fact that it was Eddie who was showing any sign of joy was a monumental moment.

"Beep beep yourself, asshole!" Richie rolled his eyes, his grin still strong as ever. Leaning on the counter across from the three, they all began to eat again though Richie was practically buzzing with a mixture of emotion. He was determined to get something bigger out of Eddie, a full on laugh, a double-over and clutch your sides kind of laugh, the kind of laugh that only came from something so insanely stupid that you couldn't not break down because of it. He knew all too well that you couldn't force comedy, and just had to hope that the perfect opportunity arose. "So," Richie leaned his head on his hand, fluttering his lashes innocently (which meant he had something mischievous planned), "What all do you know about choking? Were you really able to save Bev if she was dying just then? How?" Eddie scoffed, his eyes flicking up from his plate for just a moment to meet those of the Tozier boy.

"What do you mean 'how'? You have to have learned basic First Aid. Everyone should know this shit." Crunching down onto his taco, Richie shook his head. The look that crossed Eddie's face then was hilarious. The horror mixed with disappointment morphed his boyish features perfectly- if he had a camera, Richie wouldn't have hesitated to take a photo. He knew what CPR was and the Heimlich too, he wasn't that dumb but for the sake of the teasing he would play dumb as a brick since that was what he was best at. "So, what you're saying is, if I hadn't been here and Beverly had really been choking she would have just- died. Just like that. Because you don't know how to do CPR."

"I'm sad to say so," Richie shrugged one shoulder, "She'd be done-zo. Six feet under. Kickin' the can."

"First of all, it's the bucket, not the can," Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, though that upward quirk of his lips had returned and Richie felt a swell of triumph, "And second, that's really, really hard to believe."

"Well, it's the truth, so..." Another one-shouldered shrug. "Are there like, different types of CPR?"

"Oh my God, you're a fuckin'-" Eddie bit his tongue. Shaking his head, one hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose, and then he dropped it and turned a surprisingly patient gaze onto Richie. "It starts with chest compressions," Something in Eddie changed, then, so suddenly it was almost invisible. His shoulders pulled back, his chin tilted up, and his eyes adopted a light that Richie had yet to see in them. It was confidence, self-assurance, a sign that Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about. "Chest compressions help the flow of blood to the heart and the brain. You do 30 chest compressions and then you have the check the persons airway, make sure there's no blockage-"

"What kind of blockage?" A snicker from Richie,

"Shut up," Eddie continued without pausing, and there was now the concern that he needed to breathe, "Then after that you can do mouth-to-mouth-" And, that was the breaking point for Richie. He smiled wide, leaned in a little closer, and, in that sly, mischievous tone, said,

"So what do I have to do to get CPR from ya Eds?" This promptly earned him a shove and another harsh punch to the shoulder.

***

After dinner passed, the group had shifted over to the couch for a movie. The thing with Taco Tuesday's was that each new week someone else picked the movie, and this week just so happened to be Richie's choice. That was why they were currently huddled around the TV watching 'The Birds'- Richie has to have seen it a billion times by now.

"Watch watch watch watch watch- oh! Bird attack!" Punching his fist into the air, Richie hollers his words, his elbow nearly jamming Eddie in the ribs as he flops back down into the sofa, "Shit, this scene used to scare me have to fuckin' death when I was a kid!" Watching, unamused, as birds flew in through a homes fireplace, Eddie let out a sound that might have meant to be a chuckle but sounded more like a scoff.

"I seriously can't believe this movie scared you," Eddie was still wearing that small, serene smile. All through the movie so far Richie has been making his silly little comments, pointing out the parts that always made his younger self shudder with fear, "It's just- so boring! So slow! And it's not realistic in the slightest-"

"Oh come on Eds, you're the one who's supposed to be terrified of these feathery little dudes. Shouldn't you be shitting your pants right now? Clinging to my side, sobbing, oh Richie, oh Richie please hold me close, I can't look any more!" As Richie's tone shifted into a falsetto, a poor, poor mimic of Eddie, he slumped, clinging to the shorter boy much like he was describing, "Turn it off, I'm shaking in my boots! Turn it off, pleeeeeeease-"

"Shut up, Richie!" As Richie's arms locked around Eddie's waist, he heard that sound that he was starting to think he'd never hear. As Eddie began to squirm, pushing and shoving at Richie's arms, his smile grew wider, something goofy and uncharacteristic, all teeth and dimples- along with that smile came the lightest, happiest, warmest sound that ever seemed to have existed. Eddie laughed, a real chuckalicious laugh, high-pitch and joyous. Richie's teasing words didn't cease, and he even began to wiggle his fingers, jabbing them into Eddie's sides and driving the boy to curl into himself, almost whacking Richie in the side of the head with his knee. As the laughing continued, Richie's chest tightened up pleasantly, warmly, his heart fluttering and his stomach doing some seriously impressive somersaults.

"Yowza yowza YOW-za! Richie Tozier gets off a good one!" Now, both Bev and Bill were laughing too, the movie long forgotten. In a brave moment Richie leaps to his feet, but his arms don't leave Eddie's form and then he's carrying him right with him. Eddie lets out a cry as the couch falls away but Richie holds him nice and tight, beginning to prance, spinning, jiving across the room, "Richard Wentworth Tozier is on a roll, on a ROLL baby! Yowza yowza-" He and Eddie are interrupted then by a dinging sound, the familiar ring of his cellphone. Richie's cheeks were warm, and he was certain that they were red, too. "Here ya go, Eds," he set Eddie back down, ignoring the 'It's Eddie, dickwad' and instead plucking his phone from where it sat on the coffee table. He felt high, no, better than high. He had only smoke weed a few times but in this moment he felt better than he ever has before- and then as he looked at his screen exhilaration in his chest died in an instant. His smile fell away, just for the briefest moment, before he forced it right back in it's place to cover up the pang of pain he felt at the new absence of his contentedness. The text he had received had been small, just a simple word, and yet it had killed the wonderful squeamishness in his stomach. It had killed the feeling that he had never felt before. It had killed that infinite warmth.

Hey.

Riche dropped his phone again without bothering to ask, and collapsed onto the couch once more, eyes trained on the film. It was all fine, he was vibing, living, enjoying his evening and no one would ruin that for him. Eddie, seeming to have noticed the split-second shift in Richie's expression, leaned in close and, brows furrowed with concern, asked,

"Everything okay?" Richie knew just how to deal with situations like this- he was a trained expert at skirting questions. With an easy-breezy smile and a set of thumbs up, he clicked his tongue and responded with,

"Cool as a cucumber, my friend," His own voice sounded funny to him with how grossly happy it was. It didn't match the pit in his stomach at all. This tone he took on in the direst situations was one of his few Secret Voices- he called it 'Richie 'I'm-All-Right' Tozier' and it was basically him, but without any life problems and crippling anxiety. He was so good at it now, so good at faking that good that you could hardly tell I'm-All-Right from the real him. Eddie shrugged and returned to the movie. For a few moments, everything was okay again, until he got another text. This one was... different from the last. It was from the same person, but had an entirely different feel.

hope you understand that we're not over. We won't ever be over.

Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Richie put his phone away, letting it drop down into his lap, as inconspicuously as possible though his heart was beating at 10000000 miles an hour. Christ, he felt like he needed a puff from Eddie's inhaler! The hidden threat in those words, the passive aggressiveness of them, it terrified him more than even a Voice could hide. The way his shoulders tensed must have been all too obvious. Not only was Eddie looking at him again, worried, but Bev was passing him discreet glances as well.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Rich? You look tense," Eddie still kept his voice low, so low, the perfect level to be heard by Richie and Richie alone.

"I- Yeah, I'm fine. Don't, uh..." Joke joke joke he needed a joke or he might let his smile turn all wobbly and weird and then Eddie would worry even more, "Don't worry your pretty little head." Panic panic panic- Richie is panicking. He thinks his hands might be shaking and maybe his eyes are glossing over just a little. The movie is bright right now, reflecting off of his watery gaze and as he watches Eddie's mouth begin to move again, preparing to pour out more concern, Richie spoke first because he can't bear to see Eddie worried and he double can't bear being the reason for that worriedness. "Excuse me for a moment, dears," Richie stood, smiling wanly, "I require a piss." And, with that, he hurried away for the bathroom. He hardly made it into the room in time, slamming the door shut and punching on the lights, before the fear really gripped him. He stumbled up to the sink, his hands gripping so hard onto the basin that his knuckles went white. Looking at his reflection in the mirror was strange. His face was white, his eyes were, indeed, glossy, so so obvious behind his glasses, and he looked positively miserable. He didn't want to look at his phone again, yet at the same time he was almost desperate to reread those messages, to reassure himself that maybe they were in his head, just memories, all a ploy, all just him remembering bad times and creating more bad times from those memories.

But Richie wasn't foolish. He knew that those messages were real. Should he even be surprised? Taking off his glasses and setting them aside, Richie turned on the faucet and cupped his hands underneath the rushing stream of lukewarm water. He sucked a breath through slitted teeth, and let his eyes fall shut, just for a moment. Texts could be bad, yeah. Texts could be threatening. In the end, though, texts couldn't hurt him. If Richie was careful, alert, he never needed to see that douchebag again. If he was careful than this asshole couldn't get close to him. Leaning forwards, Richie brought the water up to his face, splashing it upwards and letting the refreshment roll over him in a steady wave. Ex-boyfriends were assholes, yeah, Richie's especially- but he had fought so hard to get out of that relationship. Surely no God could be cruel enough to throw him back into it. Running a towel over his face and replacing his glasses, Richie caught his own eyes in the mirror once more. In an instant, the damaged, sunken, shell of his face morphed up into that Richie Tozier grin. It was movie time, baby. Cool as a cucumber.

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stan uris #stanley uris #mike hanlong #the losers club #it #it movie #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2019

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.1

Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?

For @lemonfodrizzleart. Part of her Farmer AU and featuring her OC, Jackie Asante.

Ao3 link here.

ch.2

~~~~~~~~~~

“Jackie, was it?” Stan repeated as he rocked in his chair, the shade feeling comfortable with the warm summer’s day baking everything that dared to escape air conditioning.

“Yes, sir.” The woman repeated. Her ankles were crossed as she sat in her rocking chair, her hands on her lap. Nerves hindered her normal behavior; Never in a million years would she sit like this, unless she really wanted a job and wanted to impress her potential employer.

The man in a gray t-shirt (it might have been white at some point), dirty jeans, and boots raised an eyebrow at her and waved the response away with a strong hand. “First off, there’s no need for all that sir-stuff, okay? I ain’t that old.”

Jackie let out a good-natured snort and smiled more relaxed. “Okay.” She sat a little bit more relaxed, now one knee over the other, and she rocked a little in her blue-jeans, white t-shirt, and light-purple jacket, the bottoms of the side tied together and her sleeves rolled up.

Stan looked at her, reading her as if she was a book, and he instantly knew he would like her. Something in the sparkle in her dark eyes, something in the way she held herself up promised the whole world that she was way more capable than what people initially believed and she was going to rub it in their faces.

Okay, now that he got that out of the way, what was he supposed to do now? Sixer probably had a pamphlet full of things to do or a check-list in his brain of what to ask her, but that genius got distracted by some new freaky thing and ran off into the woods, but not without telling Stan to interview the potential farmhand. Why’d he have to do this? It was all Sixer’s idea. While a farmhand was probably a good idea, Stan would’ve hoped they could save the dough by making Ford and his friend from college work, but both brothers knew that wasn’t going to happen. Well, she was here. Might as well get her a drink.

“Want a soda or somethin’?” Stan asked as he stood and stretched his arms over his head, his shirt stretched tightly over his gut and strong chest.

Jackie shrugged with a smile and stood. “Sure, thanks.”

Stan waved towards himself casually, signalling her to follow him, and he led the way inside the house. Jackie followed him and allowed herself to take in the space without being too nosy. In front of the doorway was a big living room with a yellow-plaid couch and matching armchair, a card table, a wood-burning stove, and even a TV. An owl-themed tick-tock clock hooted the time (11:00am) with eleven wheezy hoots. Stan led the way to the left, the opposite direction of the stairs leading up to the second floor, and into the kitchen.

Jackie’s face flinched a little bit at the state of the room, a big mess all over the table and every square inch of counter decorated with books, food, and dirty dishes. Jackie stood at the doorway and couldn’t help but notice a picture of a family hanging by her head. A man with a straw hat and sunglasses stood tall and strong behind his family, while his wife sat with a set of twins in her arms, hugging them with a big smile. A third boy, about three years older than the twins, smiled in front of the father and besides the mother.

“Well, this here’s the kitchen.” Stan narrated pointlessly to fill the air, stealing Jackie from her thoughts. His head was in the fridge but he soon emerged with two glass bottles of Pitt soda. He even popped one open for Jackie before giving it to her. “Livin’ room’s just by the door, then past the stairs is two bedrooms, one’s a master with a bathroom, and then upstairs is the attic and two more bedrooms.”

“Nice place.” Jackie complimented.

“Thanks.” Stan said after a sip of soda. “Pa left it to me and my brother. We got another brother, Shermie, but he’s workin’ for a bank in California. Got a kid now and everythin’.”

“Ah, somebody’s an uncle.” The dark-skinned woman commented with a smile.

Stan grinned proudly and seemed to have straightened his stance just a little bit. “Yup. Anyways, what made you wanna work here?”

Jackie shrugged. “I’ve always liked the fresh air n’ workin’ hard. My mama used to say sittin’ still’s a sin.”

Stan smiled in agreement. He was right; he liked this girl. “Okay, so what can you do?”

Jackie took a second to think of what she can do that applies to a farm. Really, in her mind the list kept growing. She couldn’t think of a single thing she couldn’t do if she really tried, so she gave him a sly smile and said, “Anythang.”

Stan barked a laugh and freed a finger from holding the bottle to point at her. “I like your style! Alright, so how much you want a month?”

“Eight-hundred.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little high?” Not that he was worried; he liked to negotiate.

“Don’t you think I need enough to rent a place?” Jackie returned.

Stan snorted. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, we’ve got three… well, two bedrooms we aren’t usin’. You could stay with us rent-free for cheaper pay.”

“Well how much you willin’ to fork over?”

Stan grinned. Yup, he liked her. He wasn’t going to lose such a promising worker. “Five-hundred a month.”

“Deal.” Jackie held out a hand to shake.

Stan grasped it and shook. “Then you’re hired. You can have tomorrow to move in and…”

“No, I can start work tomorrow.” Jackie insisted. “Just give me this afternoon.”

Stan grinned. “Alright, fine. You’ll start first thing in the mornin’ tomorrow. You’ll know when. Go get what you need and I’ll show you your room and give you the full tour of the farm. There’s a stable and chicken coop and barn and fields full of work, as you saw comin’ in. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Stan exited the kitchen, giving Jackie a good look at the dirty kitchen. She sneered playfully to herself, “I can see that,” and followed her new boss out of the house.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was tired, but satisfied with his success. He collapsed into a rocking chair on the porch and glanced down at the photos in his hands; that polaroid Stanley got him for Hanukkah was being used well. It was so rare to get pictures of the floating eyes so crystal clear, mostly only seeing them at night, but these were lurking in the shadows of the overgrown trees and bush of the woods, and by sheer luck and perfect timing on Ford’s part, he got what he wanted.

The six-fingered investigator pulled out his journal from his messenger bag and bookmarked a page to fill out later with the photos. As he closed the book and became lost in thought at the sight of his golden handprint, the screen door opened and Stanley poked his head in. “Hey, dinnertime, nerd.”

“Coming,” Ford said as his brother left and he got to his feet, suddenly very hungry and ready to eat so he could finish his work for today.

While Stanley sat in a chair, rubbed his hands together, and smacked his lips at the table, Ford stood at the doorway with his jaw hanging like an executed criminal. Laid out on the big table in the kitchen was a plate full of fried chicken, collard greens, a skillet of cornbread, mashed potatoes with cheese, and unless Ford’s nose was playing tricks on him, there was something made of chocolate in the oven. Even more surprising than the mouth-watering meal was the stranger in the house.

Untying a long apron, a dark-skinned woman with short black hair was standing by the hooks on the walls for keys and hats. She smiled as she hung her apron up and said, “Wash up, Mr. Pines. Oh, excuse me. Dr. Pines.” She added playfully.

Ford snorted. Apparently Stanley already told her about his twelve PhDs. “Please, call me Ford, ma’am.” He requested as he went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “Let me guess… you decided to hire Ms. Jackie Asante, Knucklehead?”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad idea.” Stan quipped as Jackie sat in the chair on his right. He threw her a wink, which her eyes sparkled at.

“Quite the contrary, considering she clearly sees fit to celebrate Thanksgiving any day of the year.” Ford said as he sat in the chair across the table from his twin.

Jackie smiled with hot cheeks and shrugged. “Clearly you’ve been starving out here. Well, you can forget TV dinners and take-out for awhile. At least not while I’m breathing.”

“Now hold up, take-out’s delicious.” Stan defended as he brought a chicken leg up to his lip and bit down with a beautiful crunch. His eyes grew wide and he sagged in relief and delight. He munched on his chicken happily and managed to wheeze out between bites. “Fuck take-out.”

“Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly before trying his dinner, but he was amazing and started mumbling swears like a sailor.

Meanwhile, Jackie grinned proudly into her cup of water and started to cut up the cornbread. Maybe getting this job was a good idea after all.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #farmer au #fanfiction #gift #lemonfodrizzleart #jackie asante #oc #big BIG thanks to lemon!#I love her art and she's just... GAH!#I just love her!#I could gush about her all day!#I hope you like this fic #please please PLEASE lemme know if you want me to add or do anything #more to come!#and yes the title is a reference to Where the Red Fern Grows #and i may or may not've referenced the help #couldn't HELP myself #...I'll go home now...

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honeypiehotchner · 5 years

Text

Beautiful Stranger (Chris Evans x OFC) -- part eleven

This is a very cute and special part ;)

Warnings: none! Unless you count the fluff content in here to be illegal.

Chris -- despite my protests, because what if people are watching? Or have cameras out? -- holds my hand as we walk back to my car. He opens the door for me, or tries to, but pouts when I laugh at him because I haven’t unlocked my car yet.

“Sorry, you’re trying to be nice and I’m being an ass,” I say, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing to laugh. I do unlock the car, though, and he smiles brightly -- like a child, I swear -- when he gets to open my door.

“M’Lady,” he bows his head and gestures into the driver’s seat.

I roll my eyes, but that’s because I’m trying to get rid of the wild butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you for lunch,” he says once we’re driving back to my office.

“Thank you for letting me pay this time,” I tease. “And for surprising me, of course.”

He grins. “I’ll do it more often.”

“Please,” I say without thinking, and then immediately reel back. “I mean, if you’re not busy filming. You need to finish filming first.”

“But I also need to eat,” he counters, leaning his elbow on the side of the door. “So I think they’ll be okay if I ask to have lunch at this time every day.”

“Chris…” I shake my head in warning, starting my car. “I feel like I am way more conscious of cameras than you are.”

“I’ve gotten used to it,” he shrugs. “But I should be more careful, I know.”

“Your publicist already give you the speech?”

“Well, she forced me to tell her about you.”

I stay quiet and drive, hoping he’ll give more context. But he doesn’t, so I have to say, “What?”

And he continues. “She asked why it was-- Okay, normally -- I won’t lie -- normally after a few days of staying in, I’m calling her and telling her the guys and I are going out and that I’m apologizing in advance for anything she’ll have to yell at me for in the morning.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s not,” he chuckles. “But the media gets ahold of something and then it is. But point is, she caught me out. She asked why I hadn’t been going out at all yet and asked what the hell I had been doing-- She’s like my mother sometimes, I swear.”

“It sounds like it.”

“But she asked me that,” he shrugs his shoulders for emphasis, “and I can’t lie and say I’ve just been staying in for no reason because she knows me better than that, so I had to tell her.”

I grip the steering wheel tightly to relieve some nerves. “What did she say?”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “As my friend, she’s over the moon. As my publicist, she said she’s going to start doing damage control now.”

“Now?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “Your name hasn't been anywhere.”

“Not yet,” he reminds me. “It’ll happen soon, and I’m sorry for when it does.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but it’s something I wish you never had to deal with.”

“Well,” I pause, turning my blinker on. “It’s been a month and so far, so good.”

“That’s because we’ve been in my apartment,” he replies, laughing but he sounds wary. “I know I’m being cynical, it’s just--”

“No, you’re being realistic,” I admit, sighing deeply. “I wish you didn’t have to worry about it.”

“I wish you didn’t either.”

“Well, too bad. I worry about everything,” I laugh, only half in jest. “So don’t worry about what I’m worrying about because chances are, I’m already worrying about it.”

“That worries me.”

I don’t even need to look over to see the grin that is stretching across his lips, but I still do because I still want to see it. It’s just as blinding as always, but this time there’s some real worry hiding behind it.

I decide to change the subject, though, because I do see that hint of genuine worry in his eyes, and he doesn’t need to do that. “Where do I need to drop you off?”

“There should be a car waiting for me somewhere outside your office.”

Slowly, as I stop at the redlight, I turn to look at him. “You have no idea how fancy that just sounded.”

“It’s the truth!” He defends. “They dropped me off earlier. I didn’t just walk through downtown Atlanta until I got to your office.”

“It’s a good thing,” I reply, looking back at the road as the light turns green. He would’ve literally gotten mobbed, probably. “What time are you done today?”

“Not sure,” he sighs. “Why?”

“No reason,” I shrug, parking my car.

Chris gives me a look. “You can go see Dodger even when I’m not there, you know.”

“I feel bad!”

“Why? I’m telling you that you can,” he nudges my arm. “I gave you the spare key for a reason.”

“Okay,” I breathe. “Can I?”

“Please do,” he replies sincerely. “Send me pictures.”

“Deal.”

He’s still grinning wildly as I park my car, glancing at the clock to see I’ve still got twenty minutes left for my lunch hour. But he probably needs to get back to filming, so he should probably go now.

A frown settles over my features at the thought.

“How much longer is your lunch hour?”

“Twenty minutes,” I tell him. “But if you need to go right now--”

“No, I’ve got twenty minutes,” he turns to face me, unbuckling his seatbelt. “But if you need to go back to work now…”

I shake my head, fighting back a smile. “I’ve got twenty minutes.”

+++

I call Camile on my way back to my apartment -- well, Chris’s, because I’m going to see Dodger first thing.

“Hey girl,” my best friend answers tiredly. “What’s up?”

“What’s up with you?” I counter.

“Exhausted,” she lets out a laugh. “Ready to be home and in bed. You?”

“Same. Well, I’m going to see Dodger, but I am tired.”

“Dodger, huh?” She teases. The mere mention of my soulmate’s dog -- or anything to do with Chris, for that matter -- and her attitude brightens. “No Chris?”

“Chris and I had lunch today,” I say, earning a muffled scream from her. “And he’s still filming anyway, so.”

“But he’s letting you go see his dog.”

“Hey, Dodger needs love, too.” I’ll probably take him out for a walk, too. He probably needs to pee and breathe some fresh air. I’ll just make a pitstop at my apartment to change out of this dress and heels.

“Mhm,” Camile coos. “I’m still not over the fact that you’re Chris Evans’s soulmate.”

“I’m not over the fact that I have a soulmate.”

“Please,” Camile breathes. “You always knew you did.”

“But I didn’t know if they’d want me.”

“Fair,” she says. “Speaking of, has he kissed you yet?”

“Cam!”

“It’s a valid question!” She yells back. “It’s been a month. Jack kissed me after a week.”

“Well that’s you and Jack,” I remind her. “Speaking of, do you think you guys would be free this weekend, Saturday night?”

“We...can be, why?”

“Dinner. At Chris’s. With me and a couple of his friends.”

“Oh...my...God.”

“Is that a yes?” I laugh. “You’ll have to mentally prepare Jack. And make sure he won’t freak out. Sebastian and Scarlett are coming I think.”

“Sebastian Stan and Scarlett Johannson?”

“I think that’s their names, yes.”

I can practically hear her eye roll. “Oh, you think.”

“I just know Scarlett as Chris’s best friend who brings him groceries to cook dinner with while he’s on lockdown and Seb as Chris’s friend who keeps trying to take his phone to send weird text messages to me,” I smile, thinking of their antics. Chris says it’s annoying, but I know he loves it. “Not...whatever their characters’ names are.”

“Oh my God.”

“Is that a yes you’ll be there or not?”

“Of course we’ll be there,” Camile blurts. “I’ll tell Jack in advance who all is coming so he won’t pass out when we get there.”

“Thank you,” I chuckle. “I’ll tell you the time whenever we figure that out, but yeah. Saturday night.”

“You got it. We’ll be there.”

“Good,” I sigh, pulling my car into the parking deck. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go change and then take Dodger for a walk.”

“Well you are excused,” she replies in a matter-of-fact tone. “Have fun.”

+++

I meant to take Dodger for a walk. That was actually the plan, but somewhere in between walking into Chris’s apartment and kneeling down to play with Dodger and searching for his leash, we ended up asleep in the living room floor.

I didn’t know I had fallen asleep either until I felt footsteps on the floor. I cracked my eyes open, Dodger’s head still tucked under my chin, and craned my neck to see Chris standing with a soft smile on his lips.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I murmur, sitting up and keeping a hand on Dodger. “How was work?”

“Good, we wrapped early.” Chris crouches down next to us on the floor, gently petting Dodger and searching my eyes. “I was wondering why you went quiet.”

“Oops,” I chuckle, rubbing my eyes, stopping myself when I remember I still have makeup on my face. I curse when I look at my fingers, black smudges all on them. “Ugh.”

Chris sees my frustration and nods down the hall. “I have some makeup wipes in the bathroom.”

I raise an eyebrow, my hands falling into my lap. “You have makeup wipes?”

“Sometimes I forget they put makeup on me when we’re filming and have to take it off here,” he explains, and adds, “but you’re welcome to use them.”

“Well, thank you,” I begin to stand. “Did you wear makeup today?”

He looks up at the ceiling, clearly trying to remember, but I just shake my head.

“I’ll bring one back.��

I walk down the hall to his bathroom, finding -- sure enough -- a packet of makeup wipes on the counter. They’re a cheap brand, but I didn’t expect him to have the same kind I use -- which are in a pink package and for sensitive skin with aloe infused in the wipes.

I clean the eye makeup I smudged and wipe away the little foundation I had worn today before tossing the wipe. I grab a second, shutting off the bathroom light as I venture back into the living room, finding Chris laying down next to Dodger now, holding his paw.

I can’t help the smile that crawls onto my face as I get closer. I lay on the other side of Dodger, moving so I can reach over and wipe the makeup from Chris’s face, careful not to wake the sleeping puppy between us.

I don’t realize how intimate the moment is until I’m wiping under his eyes, and I realize how deeply he’s staring into mine.

“Hi,” I say nervously, swiping quickly over his forehead and nose, hitting the places I assume they’d use some concealer just to cover some redness.

“Hi,” he replies, letting out a laugh when I tap his nose with the wipe once I’m finished. “Thank you.”

I set the wipe above our heads so I’ll remember to throw it away when we get up. “You’re welcome,” I murmur, bending my arm to rest my head on it like a pillow. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he breathes, then gets this cheesy smile on his face as he says, “I had a really cute lunch date today.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes, but I’m smiling, and he keeps going.

“She let me hold her hand, too. Made me so damn happy.”

I pause and just look at him, my chest swelling with every moment that he keeps going.

“She’s really pretty,” he murmurs, his hand reaching over Dodger to tuck some hair out of my face. “But I know she doesn’t think it.”

“What’s got you in such a sappy mood?” I tease, trying to deflect and change subjects. It’s my one and only talent.

But Chris isn’t letting me get away that easy. “No reason,” he shakes his head, best he can when he’s laying on the floor. “Can I tell you something?”

I nod. “Anything.”

“I’ve been in a sappy mood,” he chuckles when he uses my words, “for a while. Since the day I met you.”

My face softens.

“But I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Why would you scare me away?” I whisper, my hand reaching out for his. He finds mine easily, lacing our fingers together and resting them on Dodger’s stomach.

“Because everyone’s watching me,” he says, his voice quiet and his eyes sincere. “Everyone’s always watching and I don’t want them to watch you too. I want you to just be mine, not everyone’s.”

“Chris…”

“And if the fame scares you away then that’s just what happens. I know it isn’t for everyone.”

“Chris…”

“But I know I’d rather have you in my life, whatever way I can, than not at all.”

“Chris, stop,” I squeeze his hand, getting his attention. “You’re not going to scare me away.”

“I don’t want to.”

“And you won’t. Nothing will,” I say without thinking, and the scariest part is, I know I mean it. “I know fame isn’t meant for everyone, and that’s fine. I don’t think it’s for me, but that doesn’t matter. My soulmate isn’t fame.”

He cracks a small smile. He always does when I call him my soulmate. I remember the first time I noticed it, I made a mental note with myself to call him my soulmate more often when I’m with him.

“My soulmate is Chris Evans,” I keep going, running my thumb over the back of his hand. “This super cute guy from Boston who also happens to be a superhero in his spare time.”

He laughs then, but it’s small. It’s not his usual belly laugh.

“Who loves his family and has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. And who has a pretty awesome puppy.” Dodger stirs in his sleep, tucking his head further into Chris’s chest. “And he opens doors for me. He brings me coffee and surprises me for lunch and makes me laugh. He makes me smile more than I’ve smiled in years. And he gives really good hugs.”

I can see him slowly cheering up, so I say one more thing.

“Oh, and his hands are super soft, too.”

He laughs loudly then, his free hand holding onto his chest as he leans back a little, his eyes closing. The noise wakes Dodger who jumps up and runs off into the kitchen, leaving Chris and I holding hands, laying in the middle of his living room floor.

The laughter dies down and I find myself scooting closer, our hands still linked together. He leans back onto his side, his eyes searching mine, a smile dancing on his lips.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

I shrug a little, smirking. “Just telling the truth, that’s all.”

“Can I tell you the truth?”

“I hope so.”

“I wanna kiss you.”

I freeze, but freeze isn’t the right word because my blood isn’t running cold. My body is warm, like it always is when I’m around him. Warm and safe.

But time stops. Or it feels like it does. Because we stay there, laying on our sides, just looking at each other, for what feels like ages but I know is only a few moments.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his hand squeezing mine.

And I nod. All I can do is nod.

He lets go of my hand to instead snake his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The rug scratches against our clothes as we move, but it doesn’t stop us, and he doesn’t stop until he’s pressed his lips against mine.

It’s nothing like I imagined — or maybe it is, and I just don’t want to admit that I’ve imagined this moment. I have, if I’m being honest. I’ve thought about kissing him from the moment I came and knocked on his door a month ago. From the moment he hugged me.

But I obviously didn’t imagine it to be like this, both of us curled up in his living room floor, bodies pressed against each other.

His hand cradles my face as he kisses me, soft and slow, gentle as always. I’m smiling when he pulls back to breathe, resting his forehead against mine. I open my eyes and see he’s staring right at me, his eyes filled with a certain emotion I’ve never seen and don’t know how to describe, but I’m sure it’s something like what I’m feeling. I’m positive I’ve also got a dreamy and dazed look in my eyes.

We hear Dodger’s paws on the hardwood floor before we see him, and then suddenly a toy is being dropped right between us. A well-rested Dodger bounces around us before jumping onto Chris and licking his face all over.

I sit up and cover my mouth to muffle my laughter, but also to feel my lips, to see if this buzz I’m feeling is real — to see if this is really all real. If I really did just kiss my soulmate.

I did. I really did.

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rike-with-love · 5 years

Text

Melody of our Hearts (chapter 4)

Pairings: Okikagu, Gintsu (minor), Takaban (minor)

Rating: M for mature content, bad language, fluff, light angst, enemies to friends to lovers

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gintama or it’s characters, Sorachi Hideaki does. I only own this story.

Chapter 4

<- Previous chapter ~~ Next Chapter ->

Her chest was heaving heavily. She could feel every beat of her heart pound like a jungle drum against her rib cage. With every passing second, with every new pump of her pulse, Kagura slowly realized what was going to happen in the next five minutes.

She heard the upbeat background music coming from the speakers. Just five minutes and it would be her song playing out there. Kagura stood at the steps, waiting for Otae to tell her when it was time - time to take the stage.

The day had finally arrived for the outdoor concert. The very first time the idols of YE were performing live.

Kagura felt ready, but nervous. She pulled the sleeves down from her red off-shoulder shirt. The sleeves kept rising whenever she moved too much, annoying her greatly. Normally that didn't bother Kagura at all, but right now her nerves were getting to her.

She knew her words, she knew her steps. Now all she had to do was to relax. Well, easier said than done, she thought and breathed deeply to control her heart better.

Kagura jumped a bit as she felt a hand softly touch her bare shoulder. She turned to look at the person behind her. It was Otsu and the rest of the Sugar Addicts.

The groups wardrobe was like an explosion of color. They all had tight shorts and a loose shirt that revealed one shoulder. The outfits were identical but each member had their own color.

Otsu had yellow, Minty had blue, Ruby had red, Yunah had purple and Soyeon had pink. Tsukki had suggested that with the crazy colorful clothes, they obviously had to have showstopping make-up and hair.

They had their hair braided tightly, but differently from one another. Nude lips and tight eyeliner. They looked like a very memorable and cohesive group in Kagura's eyes and she was sure that many fans would feel the same way.

”Hi guys,” Kagura said and smiled shyly.

Otsu gave Kagura an encouraging smile. ”You're going to be great Gura,” she said, seeing the slight anxiousness from Kagura's ocean blue eyes.

Just those few words eased Kagura's mind a lot. She knew Otsu was her friend through thick and thin. They didn't have to agree on everything to be real friends. Not even a man like S could get between them.

They had talked about the whole S thing on the night before the concert. Kagura had apologized and Otsu had brushed off the whole thing as small and meaningless. They simply agreed to disagree on the matter of stanning S.

”We know you can do it Gura!” Minty said to Kagura.

”Give them a taste of what we YE girls are made of”, Soyeon said to Kagura's surprise.

She seemed sincere with her words of encouragement rather than snide. Then again, Soyeon was an out-spoken person, she said what was in her heart, no matter the person or situation and Kagura respected that about her. Maybe someday they both could get along better.

It felt empowering for Kagura to feel the support of her colleagues. ”Thank you...I really appreciate it,” she said, getting warm smiles in return.

”You look so cute in that outfit,” Ruby pointed out, touching Kagura's black skirt a bit.

”Ah, I'm not as stunning as you all, but this will do”, Kagura said and giggled with the girls. They were all gorgeous, only a blind person could deny it.

Otae came to the backstage with a box in her hands. ”It's almost time,” she said and walked to the girls.

Kagura gulped at Otae's words. This was finally it.

Otae opened up the box and handed everyone a headset microphones. It sure was easier to move and sing with a headset than a regular microphone.

”Kawakami and Shinpachi are handling all the technical aspects and if something goes wrong, they'll inform you through the headset,” Otae began. ”I'm going out there first to welcome the audience.”

All the girls nodded in unison, they were ready to go whenever Otae was.

”And as you all know, Gura is up first, then Sugar addicts and lastly Eli & Zura”, Otae said and walked right next to Kagura who was still standing on the steps. ”Oh right, if you want to observe each other performing, Kawakami and Shinpachi have monitors.”

With those last words, Otae stepped to the stage. All six girls looked at each other and hurried together to Kawakami and Shinpachi. Eli & Zura were already there, looking like they came straight from the 80s.

Zura had a green headband, green track suit with yellow, purple and pink stripe details. His long black hair was styled to look like a funny mullet. No-matter how much Tsukki fought with him, Zura adamantly kept the questionable mullet.

Eli had a snow-white suit and white shoes. He gladly gave most of the color attention to his counter-part. He was just happy to have his orange synthesizer with him.

”Hey girls,” Shinpachi greeted from his spot.

”Shinpachi, please stay focused,” Bansai said calmly. He seemed to be very focused on the monitors, maybe even a little anxious by the way he was tapping his foot. It was a big responsibility to handle all the music and microphones on a live concert after all. Kagura couldn't remember another time she saw him like that.

Bansai was actually a very hard person to read. He had his sunglasses on everywhere, so his voice was pretty much the only thing to give out his emotions.

Bansai was looking at his monitor, fingers ready on specific buttons, his signature yin jang styled headphones plugged into his laptop and one foot still tapping steadily against the floor.

His emerald-green spiky hair was bobbing with his foot's settle movement, amusing Kagura into smiling widely. It was quite calming to see that she wasn't the only one feeling so tense about the concert.

”We trust you Kawakami-nim,” Kagura said to reassure the poor man.

Bansai glanced at Kagura briefly and his foot stopped tapping. It was like he connected all the dots in a matter of seconds. He realized that Kagura saw through his calm demeanor and that was the last thing he wanted.

”Thank you for the trust Gura, but I'm just a man behind the scene,” Bansai said with his low voice. He hid his nerves pretty well to be honest.

”Oi Kawakami-niiiiiim!” Soyeon said in a high-pitched voice and leaned her chin on his shoulder. Bansai jumped a bit at the unexpected gesture. ”You are much more than a man behind the scenes.”

Before Bansai could say or do anything at all, all five members of the Sugar Addicts were hugging him. His musical skills were on another level, but he was also a very good vocal mentor. So naturally he was loved by pretty much everyone.

Bansai grunted and tried to hide his fluster. ”I need to focus now...” he muttered, secretly feeling somewhat happy about the amount of adoration he received. Still, it made the feeling bitter-sweet. Bansai appreciated the love he got from the young idols, but the love he truly desired was out of his reach.

As the girls gave Bansai his personal space back, Shinpachi puffed his cheeks a little. ”Hey, what about me?” Shinpachi asked, feeling severely left-out.

”Oh stop being so dramatic, yes,” Kagura teased. Shinpachi rolled his eyes and returned to look at his monitors.

”Okay, Otae is on the stage now,” Shinpachi informed.

”I'm turning on her microphone”, Bansai said.

Kagura watched from the screens as Otae began waving her hand for the audience. She looked really beautiful in her yellow kimono. She sometimes liked to wear clothes from her original culture and she sure looked like an elegant Japanese lady in her attire.

”Hello! Welcome everyone to Yorozuya Entertainment's first ever, outdoor concert!” Otae announced.

The applauses could be heard by everyone in the backstage. If Kagura thought her heart was pounding earlier, well, now it was really hitting hard.

”I want to thank you all for coming today and I think we are ready for our first performer,” Otae said and smiled. ”Please enjoy the very first idol of Yorozuya Entertainment, Gura!”

”That's your cue Gura,” Shinpachi said without taking his eyes off the screen.

”Good luck out there”, Zura said to her.

Kagura gave a firm nod to Shinpachi and proceeded to strut confidently to the steps, ready to amaze everyone. She took a deep breath and made her way through the curtain.

* *

The first things Kagura saw was the lush greenery around the park, the amount of sunlight pouring through the syringa's branches and all the people in front of the stage. The crowd wasn't that large, but Kagura felt grateful for every single one who came to see the concert.

The stage was surrounded by a security fence. Gintoki stood next to the metal fence, eyes beaming of joy as he saw Kagura take the stage. Her step was confident, every ounce of nervousness she felt before started to fade away.

The people began to cheer in excitement of the beautiful red-head who stopped to stand in the middle of the stage. Her smile was wide and the warm sun on her cheeks brightened her naturally pale skin. Absolutely nothing could go wrong, that's how good she felt right at that moment.

The cheering quieted down, giving her a moment of silence to speak.

”The song I'm going to sing for you...it's my very first one,” Kagura said and felt almost emotional saying it out loud. Everything felt so real, but yet so unbelievable.

”This is Time is Precious – I hope you enjoy it,” she said proudly. After her words the song started to play. The intro lasted for a couple of seconds, allowing Kagura a moment to psyche herself up.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, using every corner of her lungs to get as much oxygen as she could. As she breathed in, the park's wonderful scents felt exhilarating. She smelled grass, syringas and a touch of her own strawberry perfume.

The song hit its first beat and Kagura prepared to give the audience a great show.

Everyone in backstage held in their breaths as they watched her from the monitors. Kagura opened her eyes and flicked her long vermillion hair a bit, making the small ”bun ears” wobble with her movement. She opened her mouth, ready to sing the first words.

A loud scream from the audience cut Kagura off before she even began. Her eyes tried desperately to locate the person who screamed. It sounded like a woman.

Even Gintoki began to look into the audience, trying to see what caused the loud voice. Kagura's song played all along in the background. She didn't know should she jump in to the song or should she wait. It was frustrating to say the least.

”What happened? Why isn't she singing?” Otae asked.

Bansai and Shinpachi were equally confused about the situation. ”Check the cameras Shinpachi,” Bansai said.

”Okay,” Shinpachi said and began to check every frame carefully.

Kagura heard Bansai talking into her ear. ”Gura, I'll lower the music down untill we find out what happened in the audience.” Kagura glanced at the camera that was right in front of her and nodded lightly.

”She heard me,” Bansai confirmed to Shinpachi.

Kagura heard the beautiful melody of her song quiet down, she didn't know how to feel about it. It was disheartening, but on the other hand Kagura wanted to make sure that the woman in the audience was all right.

This was just a set-back, a minor hurdle before she could really sing her song.

”OOH! OH MY GOD!” someone else shouted from the audience. Kagura, Gintoki and pretty much every single person in the vicinity looked at the woman screaming at the back of the crowd. She was frantically pointing at something.

”There,” Shinpachi said and zoomed a camera at the woman. Everyone in the backstage tried to look at the monitor, practically trampling over Shinpachi, almost pushing him off his chair.

Kagura noticed a girl jumping in front of the stage, apparently trying to get a better look of what was happening. It took about two more jumps for her to start freaking out. The girl flipped out her phone and called someone.

”You better get into the Syringa Park right now, S IS HERE!” the girl yelled at the phone and tried to charge through the mass of people.

Huh?...S...is here? Kagura asked herself.

Then to Kagura's horror a massive portion of the all ready small audience began to move away from the stage. Gintoki looked at Kagura who was frozen still, unable to utter a word. He wanted to help her somehow, he just didn't know how.

Then Kagura saw him in the distance. It was S, the S, the ridiculously famous and cherished idol. He was entering the park with three buff bodyguards surrounding him.

People were quickly gathering around S, making it impossible for him to move anywhere. The bodyguards did everything they could, it wasn't that easy to keep starstruck fans at bay.

Girls were screaming his name and phone cameras flashing all over the park. Kagura thought he was like a rare zoo animal, everyone wanted a piece of him.

Gintoki saw his opportunity to be useful. He certainly didn't know who was this man with pastel blue hair, causing a fuzz in everywhere he went. Gintoki went as the fourth person to cover the young man. With Gintoki's help every direction was blocked from the eager fans.

Kagura observed from the stage the peculiar sight that was supposed to be her audience, her potential fans listening to her song. But no, they were all going crazy for someone who had no business in the concert.

In the backstage, every member of Sugar Addicts saw and recognized S. They would have probably ran to see him in person as every fan would, but they couldn't. Otae stopped them.

Even Soyeon understood why they couldn't go out there. The situation was already hard enough for Kagura, who just stood there, feeling incompetent and uninteresting. Like a complete failure.

One of the bodyguards noticed Gintoki siding with them. ”Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?”

Gintoki turned to the man with black hair and a rude attitude. ”I'm helping you, what does it look like?”

”Please step away, I can't know if you're some crazy person,” the man said.

Gintoki huffed arrogantly. ”I am the CEO of Yorozuya entertainment, I give you one change to apologize mr. grumpy.”

S sneered at Gintoki's choice of words. ”Let it go Hijikata”, S said to his bodyguard with his stoic voice.

Hijikata grunted. ”Fine”, he said, but thought that S was being too gullible about the strange man with silver hair.

”We are having a concert – or actually we are trying to have a concert here”, Gintoki said.

”Well then, could we use your backstage to get away safely?” Hijikata asked as quietly as possible.

”Sure, let's try to move closer to the stage”, Gintoki said. ”There's a security fence over there.”

More people were arriving into the park, the word of S' presence had spread fast. Gintoki noticed that some people were carrying professional cameras with them, concluding that the paparazzi had arrived.

S seemed surprisingly calm in the situation. He kept waving at his fans, causing them to scream even louder. Was this one of his surprise appearances, Kagura wondered to herself.

The bodyguards managed to move through the crowd, getting closer and closer to the fence. Kagura watched in silence, listening to the screams of his fans and her song playing in the background.

Gintoki reached the fence first. He opened a gate and waved S to go through it. He was now safe behind the sturdy fence. S sighed and brushed off some dirt from his shoulder.

Kagura's attention had turned to S standing only few meters away from her. Sure she was on the stage and he was on the ground level, but still, he was right there. His light blue hair was messy, but it still looked effortlessly cool.

He wore dark gray jeans and a black loose shirt. Despite the oversized shirt, Kagura could tell his built was slender, like many dancers had.

S felt like someone was staring at him from behind, someone other than a drooling fan. He turned around and saw Kagura standing in the center of the stage, looking back at him.

Their eyes met.

She knew who he was, he had no idea who she was. That didn't stop their eyes from digging into one another. Her deep blue eyes glued into his icy blue ones. He had contacts again, Kagura could tell.

She felt almost naked. Not because he was looking at her. It was because her moment was ruined. She was stripped from her confidence, her song, her moment.

S didn't speak, he just stared at Kagura. He didn't look like he was angry, but he wasn't sad either, he wasn't particularly anything. His whole face was deadpan, he was even harder to read than Bansai.

Kagura felt her heart beating faster under his icy gaze, it felt like he was challenging her somehow. But how could that be, he didn't know she was supposed to perform. To him, she might have looked like an announcer or a sound-checker, just a regular person.

He noticed. He wasn't stupid.

Her outfit, the microphone, her. Nothing about her spoke to him as a regular person. So he stared at her more, not like he had anything better to do at the moment. Gintoki and all of his bodyguards were busy with keeping the fans from climbing over the fence.

Kagura felt her blood rushing through her veins. Her heart demanding more oxygen, making her breath more often.

He saw her heavily heaving chest, but did nothing to point it out. He stuffed his hands into his pockets without breaking the iron-clad eye contact.

Every member of Sugar Addicts were staring at the monitors, eyes wide open. Kagura was standing so close to him, it rose some envy in their hearts, it couldn't be helped. It felt unfair as she could never truly appreciate him being so near her.

It was only pity that overthrew the strong feeling of jealousy in their hearts. Pity for Kagura and her debut failing.

”Kawakami-nim, tell Kagura to come back here for now,” Otae demanded, using Kagura's real name in her worry.

”Gura! Can you hear me Gura?” Bansai asked.

Kagura heard them, but she felt like she couldn't move.

Otae borrowed Shinpachi's microphone. ”Kagura! Come back here now. I think it's better to call off the concert for now.”

Kagura heard Otae say the words she had been dreading for. She felt broken and defeated. Still, she didn't leave the stage.

Kagura was 100% sure that she would have gone back to others without one thing keeping her on her spot.

His eyes. Those demanding eyes.

Her heart raced.

Kagura snapped out her trance like state. She realized her song was closing in the bridge*. It was the part where her vocals skills were really put under the test. The hell with it, Kagura thought. She wasn't going to let the whole concert fail because of some uninvited people appearing there.

Kagura closed her eyes and inhaled quickly. And she began to sing. The music was playing on such a low volume she had to go full a capella*.

”When will you understand, that time is precious.”

S kept his eyes strictly at the girl who suddenly started to sing like a songbird. Gintoki's focus went immediately to Kagura, he recognized her voice anywhere.

”I am not a child anymore, I'm not yours to leave.”

Her vocals went so high, it silenced everyone in the park, including the diehard fans of S. Her voice was so powerful, it easily stunned everyone in the backstage. Maybe it was the situation she was in that made her push herself even harder.

”With or without you, I'll rise like a sunflower.”

Kagura sang the last part of the bridge with her whole heart. Somehow Bansai snapped out of his initial awe and managed to turn the volume up. Like it was part of the song, the music rose up right in time for the chorus.

The whole audience was getting excited about the song. For a few seconds S' presence was fully forgotten. Kagura opened her eyes as she heard cheering from the people around the park.

S was still looking at her, face as emotionless as it was before. Kagura didn't even spare a look for him, she was much more interest in looking at the smiling people in the crowd. Then the song hit its final chorus.

”My time or your time, it really doesn't matter, Is it the past or the future, it really doesn't matter. Time is still precious.”

Kagura had wrote the song together with Bansai. She poured her whole heart and soul into it, mirroring her feelings about time in to the song.

For the last part of the song, Kagura pushed her raw emotion through her voice.

”What happened to our time? I don't know the answer, but...my time...is precious.”

Kagura ended the song, her eyes felt wet, but she didn't want to start crying in the middle of the stage. She could cry all she wanted in the backstage, now was the time to take in the applauses. Time to feel the love.

The audience was mesmerized and speechless. It had been a long time since an outstanding voice like Kagura's had been heard. Then a young man with a kind smile, lifted his fist up. ”You're amazing Gura!”

Kagura looked at the man, he truly had the sweetest eyes she had ever seen. She gave him a nod as her humble thanks, causing his eyes to sparkle.

”Yeah!” someone yelled.

”A sunflower with the most beautiful voice ever!” another one yelled.

Kagura kept looking at the people in the audience. She almost couldn't believe how excited she made everyone feel.

”Gura, Gura, Gura...” a man began chanting from a crowd and it only took a second for everyone to join his chant. In a moment the whole park was calling her name, making it impossible for Kagura to hold back her tears.

Gintoki looked at his foster-daughter. She looked so happy and proud of herself, there was nothing he wished more than her happiness.

S felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his main bodyguard, Hijikata Toushiro, the black-haired man Gintoki had argued with. ”This is our change to make a discreet exit,” he said.

S nodded as his answer. With Gintoki's help, the bodyguards got inside the security fairly easily.

Kagura glared from the corner of her eye that S was leaving. She felt relief.

She wasn't a fan of his, never had been. From this day on Kagura would remember him from one thing and one thing only; he almost ruined her debut and she hoped never to see him again.

To him, she became someone he would definitely remember.

A/N:

*bridge: a musical term, is often used to contrast with and prepare fot the return of the verse and the chorus *a capella: singing without instrumental accompanimen

#okikagu #gintama #kagura #okita sougo #okita x kagura #kagura x okita #fanfiction #au #k-pop au #alternative universe #fluff #drama #romance #light angst #slow burn #i repeat slow burn

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eddiesasspbrak · 5 years

Text

When I’m With You Ch. 7

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together.

Ch. 1

Ch. 8

Read on AO3

3k+ words

When Saturday rolled around, Eddie could no longer put off going to the grocery store. He rarely ate at home thanks to the money coming in from his mom. Where she got it, he didn’t care as long as it kept him fed and she wasn’t putting herself in danger. Still, he needed to keep some food in his house for when eating healthier actually mattered to him or he had the rare urge to cook. He dragged himself to the shower, still groggy from napping the day before and then hardly sleeping through the night again. Once clean and dressed, a winter hat pulled down over his still drying hair, he was ready to make the trek in the cold to the small grocery store a few blocks away.

He was about to step into the hall, checking for his keys, phone and wallet, when he hesitated. There were voices out in the hall and the realization that it could be Richie was horrifying. He hadn’t seen him yet since he’d bailed from the laser tag place on Thursday. He’d spent the last two nights thinking about him and his face and his lips and hating himself because of it. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking either. He hadn’t sent a single text or dumb meme since the kiss happened, and he’d been sending those constantly since he’d gotten Eddie’s number.

Looking out through the peephole, he couldn’t see anyone. Richie’s apartment was too far away to see, even if he pressed his cheek to the door and looked as far to the left as he could. Very carefully, he opened his door just enough to poke his head out and look. Sure enough, down the hall he saw Richie outside his door, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder and arms full of bags. He’d dropped his keys and was trying to pick them up without dropping anything else. Eddie watched, hoping he wouldn’t turn his head that way and see him spying on him. And he definitely wasn’t looking at his butt as he bent down to get his keys.

“I already told you that I would meet you tonight, why do you keep asking?” He was saying into the phone, sounding frustrated.

Eddie obviously couldn’t hear what the other person was saying, but he didn’t figure it would be any of their friends based on his tone of voice. He’d never seen him angry. Sure, he’d gotten into some kind of argument with Bill the other day, but he’d just seemed slightly annoyed, not angry.

“Can’t we just talk about this later when I see you?” He sighed, trying to fit his key into the lock without dropping his bags. He finally succeeded and disappeared into the apartment, pulling his keys from the door and shutting it behind him.

Eddie waited for another minute to make sure he wasn’t heading back out before rushing to lock his door and practically sprinting to the stairwell. He didn’t want to risk waiting for the elevator and having Richie come back out into the hall. Stairs weren’t so bad either. When going down at least. Hopefully he could take the elevator when he got back with groceries. It was still cold out, but the snow had started to melt a bit on the sidewalks, splashing up onto his shoes and pants leg with each step. He walked faster than he intended to, leaving him slightly winded by the time he got to the grocery store. He just wanted to put as much distance between him and the building as possible as quickly as he could.

Grabbing a hand basket, he ventured into the aisles to grab a few things to tide him over for at least a week. One day he’d remember to make a shopping list to make sure he didn’t forget anything he actually needed. Today was not that day. Weaving his way through the aisles, he grabbed soymilk, eggs, a loaf of bread, some lunch meat and cheese, a mix of greens for salad and some cucumber and tomato. He was perusing the jars of tomato sauce when his phone began to ring. It was Bev’s name on the screen along with a picture of the two of them with their faces squished together.

“Hey.” He said, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Good morning, sunshine.” She said with a yawn. “What are you up to?”

“Grocery shopping.”

“On a Saturday? Wow, you’re really a wild one, huh?”

“Hey, it gets crazy here on Saturday morning with all the middle-aged women and their coupons.”

Bev laughed into the phone. “So…have you talked to Ben?”

“Not since Thursday. Why?”

“Oh…no reason. I was just wondering if he told you the good news.”

Eddie’s attention was officially off the jars of pasta sauce. “What good news?”

“It’s nothing really. He made sure I got home safe on Thursday night and then we maybe made out on my couch for a while.”

“For real?” Eddie was smiling.

“Yep! He slept on my couch and the next morning he brought me pain killers and water for my hangover, and we talked about us and…”

“And?”

“We might be kind of dating now?” He could hear the smile in her voice and the excitement she seemed to be holding back.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me after all the times I had to listen to him talk about you.”

“I thought he would have told you by now. We’re going out to dinner tonight and I want you to come.”

“Why? Isn’t it a date?”

“No, it was planned after you left on Thursday. I meant to text you about it yesterday, but I was a little…distracted.”

“Understandable. Yea, I’ll come if it’s really not a date.”

“Awesome! I think we’re going to walk so maybe we can just meet at yours? The diner isn’t far from there.”

“Sure.”

“Also, Richie is coming.”

“Oh.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s…no, it’s fine.”

“K. See you tonight. Kisses!”

Eddie said his goodbyes and hung up. Well, that was all his friends then. He was the only single one. Aside from Richie. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure if Richie actually was single. He’d never talked about having a partner but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one. His mind drifted back to the half of a conversation he heard in the hall. It could have easily been a girlfriend or boyfriend he was talking to. Would he have kissed him if he had a partner? Eddie still didn’t know if it was just a part of the Romeo and Juliet bit or if he’d meant anything by it. Now he had to see him and have dinner with him with the kiss in his thoughts and the conversation he’d accidentally eavesdropped on.

Pushing that from his mind, he grabbed a jar of pasta sauce and a box of spaghetti noodles and headed to the register.

When Ben and Bev arrived at his door, Eddie had been expecting to see Richie with them as well. He felt the anxious nerves dissipate and a feeling of disappointment settle in. He immediately felt stupid because his apartment was closer to the elevator, so they’d probably all go to Richie’s door next. He also felt stupid for being disappointed. He didn’t really want to see him anyway. He already had his things, and when he turned from locking his door, he saw them walking back toward the elevator.

“What about Richie?” He asked, looking down the hall in the opposite direction.

“He said he had something to do so he’s meeting us there.” Bev said, pushing the down button beside the doors.

The feeling of disappointment only grew as they boarded the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. He didn’t even know what he’d say to him when he actually saw him. It was better this way. Avoiding the awkward walk to the diner with him. By the time he arrived they’d be settled in and could avoid the conversation. Walking behind Bev and Ben as they held hands made Eddie feel like a third wheel. Even though they’d assured him it wasn’t a date, at the moment that’s what it felt like and he was the lonely single friend invading their time together. By the time they arrived at the diner, he felt ridiculous. When they walked to the counter, an older woman in an apron approached with a smile.

“Table for two?” She asked, looking at the obvious couple.

“Three actually.” Ben said, looking back at Eddie. “Can we get a booth actually?”

Her smile faltered as she nodded and grabbed three menus from the little slot on the side of the counter. They followed her to the table and Eddie slid into one side by himself while they took the other. The longer he sat there with them, the more he felt like he shouldn’t be there. They’d only been together for roughly two days and they were clearly already in their honeymoon stage. Both had pined over the other for so long, it was like they were ready to go all in already. It was disgusting and beautiful and Eddie hated them. If there were others with them, he would feel less awkward. Or, he thought anyway. When Bill, Mike and Stan walked in and greeted them, Eddie felt relief of a second before realizing he was now stuck with two couples. Their arrival effectively made him the sixth wheel, which until recently, he didn’t even know was possible.

“Hey, sorry we’re late.” Mike said.

“Wait, you invited them?” Eddie asked. “I thought it was just supposed to be four of us.”

“Good to see you too Eddie.” Stan quipped.

“I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.”

“I texted them after I talked to you. Sorry, forgot to mention it.” Bev said.

Eddie stood from his seat and slid in next to Beverly instead so the three could sit together on the other side. This was pathetic and miserable and where the fuck was Richie?

“Where the fuck is Richie?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know. Let me check.” Bev pulled out her phone and presumably sent him a text.

Their waitress came over and took drink orders, bringing three more menus to them. Eddie kept glancing at Bev’s phone, which she’d set on the table. He listened to the conversations around him, but they were talking about how Ben and Bev had gotten together and just generally being couple-y so he zoned out instead. Ben and Beverly hadn’t let go of the others hand since they’d left the apartment. Stan was actually leaning against Bill very obviously while Mike had his arm draped around the both of them. God, his arms were long. The longer he sat there with no stupid Trashmouth to distract him, the more bitter he became. Fuck couples and their nerve to be cute in front of their single and lonely friends.

It was when Ben tenderly kissed Bev beside him and the other three let out a chorus of “aww” that Eddie had had enough. He knew that Richie still hadn’t texted her back and whatever he was doing must have been more important than saving Eddie from being a sixth wheel. Part of him worried that Richie was avoiding him since the kiss on Thursday and how dare he if he was. It was Eddie that was supposed to be avoiding him. Still, since he’d decided not to grace them with his presence, he thought it best to just go.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” Eddie said, standing and sliding his coat back over his arms.

“What? Why?” Ben asked, looking up at him.

“Why? Richie clearly isn’t going to show, and I don’t want to be the only single person here. It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. You’re our friend.” Bev said.

“You’re a jealous bitch.” Stan chimed in.

“Go fuck yourself, Stanley.” Eddie said, flipping him off.

“He’s r-right. It would be awkward to be the only single p-p-person hanging out with couples.” Bill said, pushing Stan’s hand down when he returned the gesture.

“Look, I love you guys but I’m just not feeling it tonight, ok?” Eddie said, zipping his coat and tying his scarf around his neck. “Also, I hate you all.” With that he left them, heading out into the cold night air waiting for him.

Hopefully Mike and Bill wouldn’t take him too seriously and if they did, the other three would probably let them know he didn’t mean to offend. Bill already seemed to think that him and Stan going at each other was something to worry about when they’d been like that since high school. They’d be insulting each other one second and cuddled up reading comics the next. It was just the way they interacted, a testament to how close they were. Who else could you insult and flip off and have them know you weren’t serious? Surely he’d understand since he seemed to be the same way with Richie.

Eddie now had to walk home in the cold all alone and figure out what he was going to do for dinner. Being single when all your friends were dating really sucked. He paused just outside the diner, in front of the building beside it, and pulled out his phone. Fingers already going numb from the cold, he began typing out a message to Richie.

Eddie: Just so we’re clear, you suck for not showing up and leaving me with the couples. I’m bailing. Again, you suck.

He hit send and pocketed his phone, starting up the street toward home. His mind drifted to what could have held Richie up. The café was closed this time of night and wouldn’t be open Sunday, so he wouldn’t be there working. As far as he knew, all his friends were back at the diner. The conversation he’d overheard that morning came back to him then.

“I already told you I’d meet you tonight.” He’d said. So, it was a person he was with. Eddie missed his chance to ask the others if Richie was seeing anyone. For all he knew, he was with a boyfriend or girlfriend not even thinking about Eddie. If he thought about Eddie at all. Realizing he had developed feelings for Richie was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Eddie!” He wasn’t far from the diner yet, walking slowly on icy pavement, when he heard his name being called. Figuring it was one of his friends trying to lure him back, he turned and instead saw Richie, carefully speed walking toward him. When he caught up to him, he stopped briefly to catch his breath, each puff a visible cloud of fog in front of him.

“I’m glad I caught you. I just got your text.” He said, smiling.

“Oh, so you know that you suck then?”

“I know. I’m sorry. I got caught up doing something and I…I’m here now. Want to head back in?”

“No. I already made a scene when I left. I can’t go back.”

“What kind of scene?”

“I told Stan to fuck himself and said I hated them all. I may have called them disgusting too but that might have been in my head.”

Richie’s smile grew as he chuckled softly. “Well, shit, I guess we better run before they come out with pitch forks.”

Despite his best efforts, Eddie smiled. “I’ll push you down and leave you while I make my get away.”

“Cruel, but I’m taller than you. I don’t think you’ll win that one.”

“The taller they are, the harder they fall.”

Richie laughed again, the noise like bells to Eddie’s ears. When did that change? He used to think his laugh was irritating and at his expense. Now he loved it.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I’m not actually going to push you down in the middle of the street.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Right. Because you can’t.”

“I can.”

“Then do it.”

“You really want to be on your ass in the ice and snow, don’t you?”

“I’m not worried about it.”

Eddie felt a flutter go through his chest when he saw Richie’s smirk and realized exactly what they were doing. This was flirting. Stupid, ridiculous flirting but also perfect. They were both smiling, and Eddie wanted to chase that feeling before it slipped away. Pressing his hands against Richie’s chest, he began to push. Richie planted his feet, leaning against Eddie’s hands and lightly grabbing his arms with his large hands.

“That’s cheating.” Eddie grunted with effort.

“You never gave any rules.”

“Fall you giant motherfucker.” Eddie laughed.

Eddie felt giddy and lightheaded, happy for the first time in a long time. He joked with his friends, laughed with them and played around. But this was different. The knowledge that they had kissed just two days before was in their heads as they laughed and bantered. In that moment Eddie didn’t think anything could go wrong…until it did.

“Richie! What the fuck!” The voice cut through their laughter and caused Richie to tense up, looking back over his shoulder.

Eddie stopped pushing, letting his hands drop, only held up by Richie’s gentle hold on his arms. There was a woman walking toward them with purpose. She looked angry as her eyes drifted from Richie to Eddie, sizing him up.

“What are you doing here?” Richie asked, his voice no longer joking.

“You left before we were done talking.” She said, finally reaching them.

“I told you I didn’t have anything left to say to you.”

“I’ve said I was sorry like a thousand times. Can’t you just get over it?”

Eddie suddenly felt like he shouldn’t be hearing this, but Richie was still holding his arms and didn’t seem to want to let go. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he had a hunch that this girl was his ex.

“You broke up with me months ago for someone else. I got over you and I’ve moved on. I don’t know how many more ways I can explain that to you.”

“I made a mistake and I’m sorry, Richie.”

“Maybe I should…go…” Eddie said, twisting his wrist and trying to gently pry free from his hold.

“No, you stay. She can leave.”

“Why won’t you at least consider it?” She asked, ignoring them both.

“I told you. I’ve moved on.”

“With who?”

Richie dropped one of Eddie’s arms and held the other one up in the air. “Who do you think?” He asked.

She looked Eddie up and down again like she had when she’d first approached. “Him?”

Eddie felt like a switch was just flipped, shutting off his brain as he no longer understood anything. He and Richie were practically holding hands at this point, but he didn’t notice. Didn’t seem to be able to hear anything they were saying. Was this confirmation that Richie felt the same way Eddie did? He found himself looking up as Richie argued with this girl about something. About him maybe. He wasn’t sure. His eyes were on his mouth, remembering the way it felt against his. The warmth of his hand, their fingers now laced, radiated through his whole body.

“Fuck you!” The girl yelled, turning and marching away.

Eddie snapped out of it and turned to watch her go. Richie sighed loudly next to him and let go of his hand to run both his hands over his face, pushing his glasses up to his hairline. Eddie could feel how warm his cheeks were despite the cold and figured he must be blushing, and he hated that. Richie had just had a very public argument with his ex and all Eddie could focus on was that he’d been flirting and held his hand.

“Sorry about that.” Richie said, looking back at Eddie with a forced smile.

“You ok?” Eddie asked.

“Yea, I’m good. She called me because she wanted to get back together but I’m over that. Thanks for not denying it, by the way. If she thinks I’m with someone else she should leave me alone.”

“Oh…yea. No problem.” And Eddie felt stupid again. He spoke quickly, before his face gave him away. “If you hadn’t been holding onto me, I would have booked it out of here the second she showed up.”

Richie chuckled. “If we’re not going back to the others where should we go?”

“I was just going to go home.”

Had he asked before his ex showed up, he would have suggested going somewhere else and eating together. All the thoughts of avoiding him had vanished as soon as she showed up, but they were back again, and all Eddie wanted was to be alone. He couldn’t imagine sitting across from him, remembering kissing him and the feel of his chest beneath his hands. All while knowing he’d just used him to get rid of his ex and didn’t seem to actually like him.

“Oh…well, mind if I walk with you then? We’re going to the same place after all.” Richie said with that same forced smile.

“Sure.” Eddie wanted to say no, but, how could he?

They were silent as they walked. It wasn’t far to their building from there, the walk going a bit slower since the temperatures had dropped, and the previously melted snow had refrozen. They shuffled carefully, trying not to slip on the ice. The last thing Eddie needed now was to embarrass himself in front of Richie. As it was, he had this annoying urge to cry that he was fighting against.

When their building came into view, Richie rushed forward a bit to open the main door for Eddie. He mumbled a thanks and thought for a second about taking the stairs so he wouldn’t be trapped in the elevator for him. He hesitated a moment too long and was stuck when Richie pushed the up button and the door slid open. If he took the stairs now, it would be too obvious that he was trying to get away from him. They didn’t live that far up so it was a short ride at least. Eddie pulled his keys out of his pocket as the door slid open again on their floor.

“Thanks again for saving me back there.” Richie said as they reached Eddie’s door.

“Like I said, if you hadn’t been holding my arm, I would have run for it.”

Richie gave a smile, a real one this time. “Well, thanks anyway. I’ll see you later.”

Eddie had his key in the lock, his other hand on the doorknob as he turned to say goodbye. Before he could get the words out, Richie’s lips were on his. It wasn’t the same as the first but was just as effective at taking Eddie’s breath away. Before he could even think of reciprocating, it was over, and Richie was heading down the hall to his own apartment. Eddie pushed the door open and stumbled in, letting it close behind him and leaning his back against it. Every time he thought he had their relationship figured out, something would happen that would throw him off completely. The simplest way to find out what was going on was to ask Richie, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to do it. The only logical thing to do was to wait for Richie to come to him, right?

#Reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #benverly #it (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes

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softuris · 6 years

Text

wanderlust || part 6

stanley uris x reader * ✩‧₊˚

part1 + part2 + part3 + part4 + part5

———

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Breakfast was stressful. Back at Derry, you took your time choosing your food, maybe getting a drink, and enjoying the morning. However, you had a time limit to breakfast on this roadtrip. As great as the complimentary breakfast was at this Howard Johnson’s, you had to grab what you wanted and be at Bill’s van ready to go ten minutes after 6AM to make it to the next hotel reservation in time. Somehow you had to fit a bathroom break in those ten minutes too; Bill never wanted to take breaks when you were on the road.

As everyone jumped and weaved through each other to fish muffins and bananas onto their napkins for the road, you entered the small dining hall, eyelids still painfully heavy from lack of sleep. You patiently grabbed a napkin and watched as Eddie and Beverly fought over the last strawberry muffin. Grabbing a few pieces of fruit you found your way to the lobby, only to find Stan, Ben, and Richie chatting away and Mike pacing near an old fireplace.

You shuffled to them. “Mornin’,” you all but yawned. They all greated you warmly, except Richie who merely held in a chuckle. “What’s— what’s with you this morning?”

Richie’s chest bounced as he let out an ear splitting laugh. “Bet you’re tired, huh?” Richie wheezed.

“Yeah and you aren’t?” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows.

Richie wiped his eyes full of tears. “Stan, did you keep them up all night?”

Stan choked on the coffee he had been sipping.

Ben back-handed Richie in the stomach, only for him to holler out laughing some more. “You just can’t keep your mouth closed, can you?” Ben groaned.

The heat forming in your cheeks disapated at the sight of Stan, eyes wide and fixed on the ground embarassed as ever. Coffee drips littered his neat shirt, which would probably make him more mortified if he noticed. Instinctly you took a napkin from Richie’s grip and began trying to wipe up the mess for him. “Here,” you whispered, your voice low to try to calm him. “That’ll come out easy.”

Stan watched helplessly, too striken with nerves, he couldn’t move anything but his eyes. And his lips. “Th— Thank you,” he whispered back.

Ben had finally got Richie calmed down, until Beverly walked into the lobby with Eddie beside her. “The party’s arrived!” Beverly cheered, trying to ease the tension that had built up in the room. Eddie put his hands on his hips, watching Ben, who’s face was a bright red, and his eyes glued to Beverly. Richie’s eyes were already on Eddie, and followed his eyes to look at the flustered Ben. As he had not already had a laughing fit seconds earlier, Richie held his stomach and burst into laughter, soon followed by Eddie.

Mike approached the group, his phone off and clutched in his hand. “Guys, I’ve got great news! It’s going to—“ He was interrupted by a shrill beeping from outside the doors of the hotel. Turning, it soon became clear is was Bill, in his van, waiting for the group. “Ah, I’ll tell you in the car.”

“Let’s haul ass!” Richie shouted, grabbing his bag laying at his side, before recieving a glare from the nearby receptionist, but at least Eddie giggled.

—

Eddie drove again today. You admired his ability to stay awake, but it didn’t seem to bother him because he was rolling with laughter from Richie’s jokes every other minute. Stan held you in his lap, just as before, to make room for the bulky cooler in the middle seat. Mike sat in the back as well, with Beverly, Ben, and Bill in the middle seats.

“So, Mike. What’s this ‘great news’?” Beverly asked, staring out the window nonchalantly. Everyone’s attention shifted to the young man beside you in the back seat.

Mike’s cheeks got rosey from the sudden amount of attention. “Gosh well— Well my Aunt and Uncle live in our next stop’s town. Flagstaff,” he began. Stan straightened up in his seat, suddenly intrigued, and grabbed your waist in the process. Chills ran up your back and you leaned into his chest, revelling in the comfort he gave you. “They’ve got a cabin! A log cabin, they use it when it’s skiiing season, but because it’s Summer, they said we’re free to crash there,” Mike finished, scanning everyone’s faces and awaiting approval.

The group immediately turned to Bill, Big Bill. Your Leader. “Well,” Bill began. “How much would it c-cost us compared to a-a hotel?”

Mike smirked. “You’ll be happy to know they won’t charge us,” he smiled. Mike really just saved the group financially.

Beverly squeeled, pumped her fists, and grabbed Bill’s arm. “Bill Bill Bill! We’ll have enough money for a hotel in San Diego!” Bill nodded his head, signalling we were officially set on this cabin. The car cheered, and Stan wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, as he smiled like an idiot.

—

You had been on the road for hours now. Everyone was sore, and ready for another bathroom break. Bill however did not want to stop the car. “We’re so close! Only a f-f-few more m-miles left,” he insisted.

You and Stan had occupied yourself by staring out the window, sharing earbuds to listen to music, and occasionally playing thumb war. Stan had been looking out the window for sometime now, and you admired him from his lap, the boy in all his glory. His creamy skin seemed to glisten in the light that shined through the window. This boy was angelic. You didn’t seem to notice though, when he turned his head and met your eyes. “Do you see something you like?” he joked, bouncing his knee briefly to pull you out of your trance.

You hummed in response, and looked out to the window pretending that’s what had your interest to begin with. When your eyes peaked around Stan though, you noticed the view was almost as angelic; Wildflowers littered beside the highway road, tall plateaus towering over a a sea of green, a sea of pine trees. “Woah,” you whispered.

Stan turned his head back around to the window like before and nodded his head. “Isn’t it?” he asked, a sheepish smile spread across his face.

Richie heard the exchange from the front seat and, being intrigued, looked out the window to his right. “Billiam, we HAVE to stop! Look at that fucking view!”

Bill awoke from his slumber, slumped over on the side of a window, drool escaping from his thin lips. “Fuck, j-just find a— just find a s-s-stop,” he groaned, holding his head in pain. The car cheered once more, as Eddie took the nearest exit off the highway and found a parking lot.

“Shit,” Ben mumbled as he hopped out of the car before immediately covering his mouth. One by one the Losers shimmied out of the car , and to the edge of the hill to see the view; The sun was beginning to disappear behind the treeline, as the tall pine trees casted shadows over the valley of others. Bill approached first with Beverly right behind him, of course followed by Ben. Richie walked with his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, before he shoved him away. Mike went to a nearby tree and leaned against it, his hands in his pockets. Stanley guided you, as if you needed help, with his hand on the small of your back. His touch felt almost as enchanting as the scene in front of them; A small river weaved it’s way through the trees below, the roar of rapid water as it tripped over rocks and stones. Orioles babbled in the trees nearby, zooming over the group briefly. The trees talked, whistled, and danced in the wind, threatening to fall over at any given minute. It was beautiful.

You looked to your friends, all enamored by the view. Eddie was holding onto Beverly’s arm before straightening himself up. He was the first to speak, the one to break the silence. “I’m not going to attend college,” he spoke, his words shakey and full of emotion. The group froze, as if the scene in front of them wasn’t already enough for their emotional state. Your heart was beating fast. Eddie was suppose to be attending University of Maine this coming Fall to be a mechanic. He was the first to be accepted anywhere, out of all the Losers.

“Eddie,” you began, before Richie spoke too.

“I— I never actually slept with Peyton Mendoza. I...” Richie sputtered, “I lied about that.”

Everyone nodded, as if you all collectively understood, as if this wasn’t new news.

Ben cleared his throat, taking his turn to speak. Turning to see him, he started. “Beverly I—“

“I like girls,” Beverly stated. “I’m a lesbian.”

The group turned to her, jaws slack, and expressions of pride on your faces. “Wow!” Eddie laughed, latching onto her arm again almost immediately. “Just wow! Congratulations!” Bill nodded, You and Mike highfived her. Everyone was feeling so proud of your little Beverly.

“We all sort of knew,” Richie shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

“Richie—“ Eddie shoved him earning himself a shove back.

Mike sighed. “Man, I am going to miss you all,” he whistled, shuffling towards the cente of the group, initiating a big group hug. You held close to Eddie in front of you, and felt safe with Stan behind you and Ben at your side.

“College is g-go-going to be a b-bitch,” Bill sighed. The group let go, slowly.

You stared at the ground. The thought of leaving your friends, leaving Stanley,,, it hurt your chest. Looking up, you saw Beverly staring at the ground as well, the dust floating around your feet before settling . “We’ll see each other,” she whispered, only loud enough for us to hear. “Promise?”

Ben looked around at everyone. “Bev we don’t know if—“

“Promise,” Stan said, slapping his hand on Beverly’s shoulder supportively. “We’re staying together one way or another.” You looked on at the boy in awe. He took charge, in a way, you thought. You were oddly proud. His face was lit up again, as it was in the car. The sun shone from behind his head making him look heavensent. The boy was a sight to behold.

“Promise,” Richie said slapping his hand on Stanley’s back.

“Promise,” Mike smiled.

“Promise,” Bill spoke.

“Uhh promise!” Eddie said matter-of-fact-ly.

“Promise!” you sang.

“I promise,” Ben said placing his hand on Beverly’s unoccupied shoulder.

“I promise too,” she smiles wide, looking back at Ben almost sorrowfully.

The group collectively put their hands back down and kicked at the dust awkwardly. “Let’s get b-b-back on the road, huh?” Bill suggested. Eddie nodded and ran back to the car followed by Richie. Mike swung his arm around Bill as you all walked back to the van at the top of the hill.

—

Before you knew it, you were pulling up in the drive way to Mike’s Aunt and Uncle’s cabin. It was larger than you expected it to be: It looked to be 3 stories. “Alright everyone make yourselves at home,” Mike sang, lugging a bag in each hand up the steps. “Everyone gets a room, so ya’ll can have at it!” he shouts, vanishing behind the wooden front door.

“Race you!” Eddie squeeks, booking it up the steps, followed by Richie who biffs it trying to talk large leaps, to skip steps. Eddie disappears inside the cabin.

“You’d think with those long legs you’d have won that,” Beverly teased, walking past him on the stairs.

“I let him win,” Richie spits back. Stan helps him, and you all walk in.

—

You had your own room. You almost forgot what that felt like. It wasn’t like sleeping in a hotel either. The cabin felt comforting. It didn’t groan and settle like the previous hotels, leaving you up for hours due to the possibility of being murdered. It was just comforting.

Stan was down the hall, in his own room. It was late, yes, and you should probably sleep. But shit, Stan looked so good today and why would you want to sleep when you can stay awake and day dream! You found yourself biting your lip. No. No. I should sleep, you thought. Tugging up the covers to your chin, you closed your eyes and focused your attention to your breathing.

Inhale.... 1... 2... 3....

creak

Your eyes open immediatley. Suddenly you’re not so comfortable. Staring at the ceiling, the house soon becomes silent again. You close your eyes.

Exhale... 1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

creak

This time you sit up. The covers slide off your chest and puddle at your hips. Your eyes are glued to the door. Wanting to speak, you part your lips, but nothing comes out.

Inhale... 1—

The door opens before your eyes, slow at first, and a figure is standing in the doorway. “You’re awake,” the figure says. Your lips remain parted; You’re still unable to speak. The figure moves, the sound of socks shuffling against the carpet is somehow familiar. It sounds anxious. The shadow sits at your bed, and the moonlight from your room’s only window hits their face. Stan.

You smile up at him patiently, your lips pursing together in relief. “I knew it,” you whispered to him, holding your hand out for him to take. He was in a large grey hoodie, like the one you had borrowed from him, and a pair of red and black plaid boxers and Pokemon crew socks. Stan gently grabs your hand, and it’s cold. His skin feels like ice, and before you can ask him why, you suddenly wonder why he’s here. “Why are you—“

“My uh— my heater is broken in my room. I thought—“ he began, explaining himself. “I thought i’d see if your’s was working.” That familiar, warm yet nervous smile is spread across his cheeks.

You chuckle, almost fooled by the excuse. “Is that so?” you tease, leaning back into the bed.

“Scout’s honor!” Stan salutes, his voice growing in volume. God, you remembered him doing that as a kid, as a real boy scout.

You shush him frantically, worried to wake the whole house. “C’mere,” you whisper to him, pulling him into the bed more by his hand, lifting the covers. You almost pitied him for not having a good excuse. He made himself comfortable and pulled the covers up under his arms. “Tell me why you’re really here,” you ask, rolling on your side to look at him, only for him to grab your left hand in his right hand.

“I’m telling you, my heater broke,” he smiled wide to convince you. He switched your hand from his right hand and left hand, keeping his nerves in order, his mind occupied. He was practically radiating anxiety.

“Stanny,” you whispered, relaxing your fingers around his as they intertwined slowly. With him so close in proximity, you could feel his heart beat slowing down.

Stan bit his lip in the dark, you could tell. Silence hung in the air like a body in a hammock, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a patient silence. “I guess I can’t sleep without you now,” he whispered, his arms folding around you, his free hand gripping your opposite elbow gently.

You can’t help but smile at that. You can’t help but smile again when Stan curls his body into yours craving physical attention. “Oh,” is all you can say, before your lips part. You watch as he wraps his arms around your stomach and lays his head on your chest. Instinctly, your hands wander to his mop of hair, barely damp from a shower he had taken hours before. You ran your fingers through his curls slowly and thoughtfully, intending to pull Stan out of whatever anxious thoughts were eating him up. “I guess I can’t sleep without you either,” you whisper, and his grip tightens around your stomach briefly.

Your breathing steadies, trying to keep from disturbing Stan’s head laying peacefully on your chest. His eyelashes rest perfectly on his pale cheeks as the intruding moonlight shines upon your hands in his hair. This couldn’t be a more perfect moment.

“Mike said we’re spending the day in Flagstaff tomorrow,” Stan whispers, lifting his hand to trace small shapes on your forearm with his ice cold fingertips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” Stan hums. His eyes are still shut, and all you can do revel. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been in Arizona, this is my first time here.”

Stan shoots his head up, looking up to you as if you ran over his dog. “Never?” You shake your head, no. He chuckles, and lowers his head back to your chest. “Truthfully me neither, but—“ he pauses. “Have you been to the Grand Canyon before?” Stan turns his head so his chin is holding his head up on your chest, so he can look at you.

“Is it in Arizona?”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

Stan turns his head back on it’s side but this time to the right. “If you thought today’s view was pretty, you’re in for it,” he whispers, and you can all but hear the excitment in his voice. You notice in the moment his heartbeat has gone completely steady, as if being held was the only antidote.

You hum back to him in response and wrap one arm around him on you, and another gets lost in his hair once more. “I can already feel myself sleeping better,” you yawn, weaving your fingers in and out of his golden curls.

“Go to bed, Babylove,” Stan whispers, almost already consumed by sleep.

You hum in response again, and your eyelids grow heavy. The feeling of Stan laid out on your chest, his cold legs tangled in yours, was enough to put you in a grave. But to be put to sleep was enough for now. This would always been enough.

——

PART 7 ? I appreciate feedback !

🌙taglist: @eddiesshorts @loverss-clubb @fiestatozier @neibolthoes @juliroseennis @makloveswriting @aizeninlefox @multi-parker @ghostlyuris @meoodle e @ravenclawnerdfromnarnia @kingsteve-more-like-dadsteve @anothershorthuman @losers-avclub @quid-ditchcaptain @itstheamandashow @hannarudick @uhm-what-the-fuck @strxwbxrryfields @sunnyruris @bigbilliamdenbro @sweet-emmi @yayasully @madhanna @hedwigfox @sunnyuriss

#.wanderlust #.stanley uris #stanley uris fluff #stan uris fluff #stan uris imagine #stanley uris imagine #stan uris x reader #stanley uris x reader #it fanfiction #it fluff #it imagine

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sunlightdances · 7 years

Text

for you, i’ll always wait

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Rating: General audiences Warnings: No real warnings, a bit of angst, but nothing major. Author’s Note: Hi, hello, here’s another Seb fic. I have a problem!!!! Enjoy. The title comes from the song “Endlessly” by Green River Ordinance.

You watch, amused, as the interviewer asks Sebastian if he’s seen the latest box office release. Sebastian can be such a hermit sometimes, it’s amazing that he knows what anyone is talking about half the time.

“No,” he says, a smile blooming on his face, “I haven’t seen it. I haven’t-- no.” He tells the interviewer, who quickly changes the subject.

They wrap up the interview, and Sebastian heads over to where you’re waiting, crossing off this one on a long list of press events for the day.

“I told you, you need to go to the movies more often.”

He rolls his eyes, shrugging on his jacket. “When do I ever have time to do that?” He reaches behind your back for his water bottle on the table you’re leaning against, and you catch a whiff of his cologne.

“You literally spend half your time at comic book conventions and you’re never prepared for those questions.” You look up, flipping a page on your clipboard. Smiling sweetly, you pat his cheek with your free hand. “Honestly, it’s cute how much of a grandpa you are.”

He rolls his eyes. “Remind me how I got stuck with you today? Aren’t there literally hundreds of people who do what you do?”

“None as good as me.” You tell him, gesturing for him to start walking with you. It’s your second year working for a popular entertainment company, and part of your job was working at the various Comic Cons that your company put on. You started out just working the lines and making sure everything moved swiftly, and finally ended up in the talent lounge, assigned to a celebrity and being tasked to make sure they stayed on schedule.

You’ve been lucky with the celebrities you’ve gotten to work with, and have worked with Sebastian a few times. The two of you struck up a quick friendship, and you’re always happy to see him the few times a year you get to spend a weekend, essentially, with him.

“Do we have a break at all coming up?” He asks, “I’m hungry.”

“Not for a few hours,” you tell him, frowning as you look at the schedule. “I don’t know why they didn’t put that in here, I’m going to go give those people a piece of my--”

“Alright, killer. Slow down,” Sebastian says, laughing. “I’ll manage. What’s next?”

A few hours later and Sebastian has done a panel and a photo op, and he looks about ready to pass out, although he looks so happy you can’t help but smile with him.

“Food?” You ask, and he nods.

“Come with me. I owe you a lunch anyway.”

You blush, immediately protesting, “You don’t have to--”

“Come on,” he says, rolling his eyes as he stands up, “It’s literally the least I can do to thank you for putting up with me all day. Besides, we’re friends, right?” You don’t think you’re imagining the hopeful tilt to his voice when he asks you. “Friends have lunch. Come on.”

You end up driving closer to the city outskirts for lunch so he can avoid some of the crowds - not that he doesn’t want to meet his fans, but after a full day, he’s in need of a little peace and quiet. You try not to read too much into the way he puts his hand on the small of your back after you get out of the car, or the way he keeps stealing glances at you. He’s affectionate - anyone with half a brain can see that.

Sebastian orders two coffees before you can protest, and after enough complaining he relents and lets you pay for your own lunch. You grab a table by the window while you’re waiting for your food, and after a few minutes you can’t help but be a little unnerved by the way he’s watching you.

“Do I have something on my face?”

The tips of his ears turn pink. “Nope, no. Sorry. I’m just-- how long have we known each other?”

You shrug. “Two years, give or take.”

“How come you’ve never let me take you out?” He asks, quiet, and then his face shuts down like he can’t believe he said that part out loud.

You choke a little on your coffee. “What?”

He looks mortified. “Never mind.”

“You’ve never asked!” You basically screech, and his eyes widen.

“I--” he stops, blinks. “Is this a fight? Are we fighting?”

You start to feel hot all over, and genuinely can’t think of a word to say to him other than, “I have to get some air.” You’re out of your seat and pushing through the large glass door of the cafe before he can say anything, although you hear him swearing and hear the scrape of his chair on the wood floor.

You’re not even a few steps away from the front door when his hand closes around your elbow, halting your movements. “Hey, slow down.” He says, voice gentle. There’s a worried undercurrent there, too. “I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

You look at him, trying to figure out why you’re feeling so nervous. “I just-- you can’t just say something like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, but he doesn’t look sorry. “I just-- I thought that today there was this... I thought you felt the same way. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He looks like you’ve just kicked his puppy, and you hate the way your heart twists inside your chest.

It’s just-- it’s not like you don’t have a huge, obvious crush on the man. But what good could come from pursuing it? You know you’re not his usual type. What if he regrets it after the first date? You don’t think you could stand the rejection. You genuinely like this guy and everything that comes with being his friend. You’re not sure you could live with yourself if you ruined it.

“I’m not--” you start, your voice shaky. “I’m not upset. Surprised, maybe.”

He’s looking at you like he’s afraid to say anything else. “I don’t know why you’re surprised,” he says, looking down at the ground. “I’ve been told I’m pretty obvious.” He smiles softly.

“I’m amazingly aloof to these kinds of things.” You say. “I-- sorry. I don’t really know what to do, now.”

He takes a step closer. “You don’t have to make up your mind right now.” He shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “You have my number. Use it.” He smiles at you, a little less wary this time.

“What, just randomly?”

He nods. “When you’re ready.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. He’s putting the ball in your court now, and you know you’re an idiot for not just laying it all on the line right here, right now, but the thought of it gives you incredible anxiety.

He’s right - you need to think on it. Sort out your own feelings first before you deal with the possibility of his.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He echoes, reaching for your hand. He gives it a squeeze. “Let’s get back.”

He leads you to the car, your lunch and coffee forgotten, and the drive back is quiet, but not awkward. Every once in a while he glances at you, and you feel yourself blushing every single time.

Back at the convention center, you’re let into a VIP parking area and you get out, feeling the need to linger for a few more minutes. You’re still flooded with anxiety, wanting to make sure things are okay between you and him before you leave.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” he says, leaning on the side of the car. He reaches for your hand, tugging you a little bit closer, so the tips of your shoes are touching. “Please don’t panic about this.” He looks at you knowingly. “I can practically hear your mind racing.”

You can’t help but smile at that - you’re a little surprised at how much he’s paid attention; how well he knows you. “I won’t. I’ll call you.”

He smiles softly, and then you both go your separate ways, your mind already trying to come up with a million reasons why this is a bad idea, but unable to come up with one.

You let two weeks go by before you’re ready to call Sebastian. You’ve gone over every pro and con you can think of, and you think you’re ready to jump in with both feet. You like him. Like... really, really like him. He likes you. You want to give it a go.

Your hands are shaking a little bit as you grab your phone and scroll through your contacts. You take a deep breath as you listen to the rings.

“Hello?” He answers, and you hope you’re not imagining the relief in his voice.

“Hey.” You say, quietly. “It’s--”

“I know. I’m glad you called, I was starting to think I scared you off.”

“I’m sorry for waiting so long.”

A pause, and then, “It’s worth the wait, to be honest.”

You feel yourself blush, and can’t help the smile that blooms across your face. “I... um, would you want to hang out or get coffee or something the next time you’re in town?”

“Is it asking too much if I tell you I am back in town and want to see you today?” He asks, and you grin. “I need to shower, but I can meet you somewhere.”

You laugh breathlessly. He’s sneaky. “That sounds great. I’ll meet you in an hour.”

You hang up and then text Sebastian the name and address of a cafe you like that’s not too far, and he sends you back a bunch of smiling emojis. You feel your nerves start to dissipate, and instead you start to feel excited.

When you get there and he sees you come in through the front door, his face absolutely lights up. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re afraid he’ll be able to hear it when he gets close enough.

“Hi,” he says, leaning down to peck you on the cheek and give you a lingering hug. “You look great.”

You arch an eyebrow. You’ve got on jeans and a floral print top, but nothing you would consider a great outfit for a date. “Thanks.”

“You sound like you don’t believe me. I’m going to just keep telling you.” He says, winking.

You catch up on what’s been going on in each other’s lives the last few weeks before ordering lunch, and when the conversation reaches a pause, he leans a little closer. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

You imagine you look mildly horrified. “For what?”

“I feel like I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t meant to do that. Or give you some kind of ultimatum.”

“You didn’t do that. I just-- I was surprised.”

He smiles, but it’s a little unsure. “Still. I didn’t want to be that guy.” He frowns to himself, “I like you. I like the way you make me feel -- like I’m just a normal person. But then I thought, what if you were just being nice, and I acted like--”

“Hang on,” you say, putting a hand on his arm to get him to stop. “Can I tell you what I’m thinking instead of you trying to guess?”

He smiles sheepishly. “Please, put me out of my misery before I say something else stupid.”

You laugh. “Listen, I... I like you too. Okay? You didn’t imagine that. I just-- never in my wildest dreams did I think someone like you would want...” You trail off, wondering why you feel as though you’re on the verge of tears.

His face falls, “Oh, no...” He gets up quickly and comes around to your side of the table, immediately grabbing one of your hands. “Don’t think like that, please, I...” he trails off, “Do you know what my favorite thing about you is?”

You try to turn away from him, embarrassed, “Oh god, don’t--”

“I’m serious!” He laughs, turning you back to face him. “My favorite thing--” he shoots you a wry look, “and there are many -- is that you make me feel so normal. You don’t treat me like I’m famous, you just treat me like I’m a regular person, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

You smile, but you can’t even put it into words what you’re thinking. You still feel like you’re dreaming, like at any minute you’re going to wake up and feel embarrassed that you’re having romantic dreams about a friend.

“I can start listing the other reasons why I like you, if you want.” He offers, and you want to smack him because you know he’s teasing you, but you just shake your head, that look in his eye telling you he’s going to go right ahead and do it anyway. “I like that you like iced coffee in the middle of winter but that you won’t drink your hot coffee after it goes cold. I like that you only own three pairs of jeans out of protest for having to wear uncomfortable clothing when you work, and I like that you badger me about not seeing movies, or knowing how technology works.”

“Stop it,” you tell him, and his grin only widens.

“I like when you wear your hair curly, but honestly your hair could be lime green and I would still think you’re gorgeous. I like that you care about whether or not I’ve eaten lunch, and that you keep protein bars in your backpack for long days, and--”

You finally can’t take it anymore and you cut him off, leaning over and pressing your lips against his. He lets out a muffled noise against your lips, but otherwise reacts swiftly, his free hand coming up to cradle your cheek while his other stays in your lap, tangled with yours.

When you pull back, he stays like that for a second, eyes closed, brow furrowed with emotion, and you feel like you’re never going to stop smiling ever again. His eyes open, and he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards.

“That was...” He doesn’t finish his sentence. His thumb strokes your cheekbone.

“Yeah,” you reply, embarrassed that your voice is a little shaky. “Sorry for all the runaround. I just got so nervous... I-- you make me nervous.”

“Must mean you like me.” He teases, and you roll your eyes.

“Less and less by the day.”

He laughs, the sound bright, and you want to hear it forever. “Have dinner with me.” He says.

“We’re having lunch,” you point out, and he shrugs.

“So have dinner with me, too. Also I don’t want to push my luck, but have breakfast with me tomorrow.”

You pretend to be shocked. “I can’t believe you!” Then, quieter, “You’ll get sick of me.”

“Not possible.” He reassures you, and you blush again.

The two of you finish up your lunch and your coffees, and he insists on walking you back to your apartment, where he ends up hanging out with you, watching TV. Soon, it’s dinnertime, and the two of you give up on going out, deciding to order Chinese instead, and Sebastian pays, “like a real date,” he insists.

Later, he sleeps on your couch. It’s totally innocent, except for the ten minute-long make out session that happens before you both go to bed that leaves you a blushing, weak-kneed mess, but other than that, it’s super innocent.

The next morning he takes you out for breakfast, and it’s so perfect, you almost feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you walk around the block back to your apartment. “What happens next? You’re going to go back to New York, and then... what happens?”

He frowns. “I--” He stops. “I want to see you, still. I can come out here more, and fly you out to New York when I have work--”

“I have my job, too,” you tell him quietly, “And I can’t let you fly me around all the time. I’ll feel too guilty.”

“I want this to work. I want this to work more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.” He pulls you a little closer, his arm sliding around your waist. “Can we try? Please?”

You know you’ll never forgive yourself if you put a stop to this before it even starts, so you nod, trying to get rid of the knot in your stomach.

6 months later

“Where’s the--”

“Over there--”

“And the box for the bathroom?”

“Still in the truck.”

“Why do you have so many towels?”

“If you had more than two towels I wouldn’t have had to bring so many!”

Sebastian flops down on the couch in the new apartment, throwing his arm over his face. “I give up. I’m too tired. We can just live out of these boxes forever.”

You turn, smiling at him. “You’re being a huge crybaby right now.”

“Yes. I am.”

Six months of dating Sebastian flew by, and it was hard, really, really hard. When a job opening at your company complete with a relocation to New York came up, you jumped at the chance, hoping it would ease the sting of the weeks spent apart.

So far, so good.

Sebastian’s lease was up a few months ago, so he tentatively brought up the idea of the two of you moving in together, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the look on his face when you agreed. You have fairly similar taste, although you never knew how bad he would be at helping you move all your stuff in. You had at least twice as many boxes as he did.

You abandon the box you were working on and sit down next to him, his arm going around your shoulders automatically as he pulls you into his side. “We can take a break.” You say, and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Have I told you how happy I am that we’re going to be living together? In the same time zone? In the same bedroom?”

You smile, “Yes, you’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“I am,” he says, cracking open one eye so he can see you, “Really happy.”

“Me too.” You tell him, leaning up to place a kiss on the exposed part of his neck that has him shivering slightly. “Besides, New York City Comic Con is coming up! Who else is going to make sure you’re hydrated, and--”

“Stuck with you, huh?” He asks, cutting you off.

“You like it.”

“Yeah,” He grins, pulling you even closer, “I really, really do.”

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader

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paisleywraith · 7 years

Text

Curses, Curses. Chapter 8

Junior year is often considered the most difficult year of high school. Kyle would agree with that on a regular day, he didn’t need some magical bullshit wriggling its fingers at him and turning him into an ass-old Bill Murray movie reboot.

Kyle woke up alone.

He didn’t want to look at his phone. He didn’t want to know if the day had restarted again, leaving him entirely by himself once again. He reached across the bed even though he knew Kenny wasn’t there, palm resting on the fluffy comforter.

Kyle closed his eyes.

He was alone.

The silence was so loud it rang in his ears.

Kyle dressed slowly, pulling his sweater over his head and sitting down on his bed to stare at his shoes rather than put them on.

Kenny’s thought that telling Kyle his secret would solve everything clearly didn’t work. Kenny…

Now Kyle was forced to think of Kenny dying, of himself and Stan standing by to watch and move around their day like nothing happened. Of Kenny, as a child, lying cold and dead in pieces or blood seeping into the ground. How many times had he tried to tell them? Kenny didn’t have anyone to believe him. How he hadn’t gone crazy over it, Kyle had no idea. How he hadn’t come to hate his friends, Kyle equally didn’t know. And wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t, in the back of his mind.

Kyle flopped back on the bed.

Kenny had been trapped for years. And apparently no matter what he said, what he tried, he was left alone to deal with the consequences. Kyle hadn’t asked many more questions, but the questions were burning into his brain. Why? Why had this happened to Kenny, why had this happened to him? Neither of them were bad people, neither of them deserved this. Kenny least of all, Kyle at least wasn’t hurt and wasn’t dying. Thankfully.

He ended up calling in sick. He curled up in bed, eyes reddened and underlined with dark circles and his parents believed him entirely that he was ill. Ike stood in the doorway and made fun of him before offering to make him lunch. Kyle gently turned food down and pulled the blankets further around himself.

The day dragged.

There was nothing he could do. Kenny lived with this for years, what if Kyle was going to be forced to live the day over forever? The thought made his eyes burn and he buried his face into his pillow. God, what if he never got to move past today?

Kyle genuinely started shedding tears then, frustrated and angry and scared as all hell. Was he ever going to die? Was he going to keep living Thursday until he finally lost his mind? Because even now he could barely take this. He wasn’t holding it together very well and it had only been…ten…days? Was it eleven? Kyle couldn’t remember, he couldn’t even remember anymore how long it had been.

Shaking, he reached for his phone and typed in the number he knew by heart. He needed answers to something.

Kyle B: Kenny, it’s Kyle.

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Kenny M: wassup

Kyle B: I need to talk to you after work, okay? Come by my house. Might be best you don’t use the front door?

If he came up like Mysterion, Kyle could just lock his door and keep conversation quiet. He wasn’t about to tell his family any of this. Of course, Kenny had a field day with the instructions, much as Kyle had expected last night.

Kenny M: kyle, u smooth fucker

Kenny M: sneakin boys in ur bedroom wow

Kyle didn’t even crack a smile. Or a blush.

Kyle B: I know you can’t die, Ken.

He had radio silence for about ten minutes. Kyle didn’t message again, but held his phone in front of his face, tapping it every time it tried to turn itself off.

Kenny M: I’m on my way.

Kyle was startled by how quickly Kenny got to his house. It wasn’t even an hour before he heard Kenny scaling his house like a damn rock climber, slipping in the already-open window as Kyle stood aside.

Kenny immediately grabbed Kyle’s shoulders, fingernails cutting through his baggy tshirt.

“What the fuck.” Kenny’s voice was eerily calm, even as he stared into Kyle’s soul with wild-looking eyes. He gave Kyle a little shake. “Was with that message?”

“Ken, I’ve told you this for days, I’m reliving the same day over on a loop,” Kyle let the words tumble out. Onto the Big Thing. “Last night, you told me you can’t die. That I’ve watched you die, or- or kill yourself, and I- Stan and I, and I think everyone? We don’t remember anything.”

“And you believe me?” Kenny asked, fingers squeezing harder.

“I just said I’m reliving the same damn day over and over, Kenny. Of course I believe you, fuckwit.”

Kenny swallowed. Then he yanked Kyle in for a hug, nearly squeezing the life from him.

“Kyle, you amazing asshole.” Kenny spun around, taking Kyle with him. He kissed the top of his head with an exaggerated mwah.

Kyle squawked as he tried to break out of the snuggle. Kenny let him go, and Kyle was finally able to take a breath.

“Sorry, sorry, just-” Kenny reached for him, moving his hands away and back again until he was almost cupping his face. “Yeah. Okay. You’re stuck in a time loop. How can I help? Let me help you.”

Kyle ducked away from the hands, face hot.

“You’ve been trying,” The green-eyed boy murmured. “For over a week.”

“Right. Yeah.” Kenny took his hands back, chewing his lower lip. “You said that was why I told you. Right.” His bright blue eyes seemed to focus finally. “What’s happened so far?”

“Nothing.” Kyle sat back down on his bed, rubbing a hand through his tangled curls. “Nothing we try works. I’ve gone different places, talked to different people. I can’t remember how many days it’s been anymore. I’m starting to forget the first couple days and it’s been under two weeks, I know.”

Kenny sat as well, on the ground in front of Kyle. He was still in the same hoodie, looking up with soft mosaic eyes. Kyle pulled the fleece blanket from his bed and tossed it on Kenny. The boy snorted softly and pulled it off his head, wrapping it around him with a soft, sad sort of smile.

“Huh,” Kenny said, running his thumb over the blanket corner. “Sounds like me, leading you around in circles. Have you told anyone else?”

“Well, I was put into a mental ward for a while, once. I told Stan yesterday and you convinced him I wasn’t insane.”

“Good old Stan,” Kenny said wistfully. “Do you want to get him?”

“No,” Kyle said immediately. After last night, he had a different agenda. Kyle leaned forward off the bed, closer into Kenny’s space. “First I want to talk about what you told me.”

It was like a switch. Kenny’s smile turned plastic, stretched far too wide across his face. “Kyle,” Kenny had a laughing lilt to his voice, one that made Kyle scowl. “I think we need to focus on one problem for now.”

“Okay, let’s talk about the fact you’re fucking dying and I don’t remember any of it.” Kyle didn’t just push, he shoved.

Kenny wasn’t even smiling anymore. “Kyle…” He seemed to be struggling for the rest of his sentence. Kyle waited, eyes locked and still in Kenny’s space.

“Why’d I have to come in the window, anyhow?” Kenny asked, as if he’d just thought of it. “I get that I’m not the kind of boy you bring home to your parents, but jeez, Kyle. Way to make me feel liked.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Kyle said, leaning back again and crossing his arms. “You know I hate when you say shit like that, I’m not going to get into it. I want to talk about you.”

Kenny’s jaw was tight. His gaze flit to Jewish boy’s again, and for an instant Kyle could see Mysterion in those eyes. Fierce and unwavering and a little bit angry.

“Kenny.” He was happy Kyle knew, but he didn’t want to talk about it. The shiplash was grating on Kyle’s nerves. “I just have a few questions.”

“…I don’t want to talk about how or when.” Kenny grit out.

“Then we won’t.” Kyle’s voice was unwavering as well, and his greenish eyes didn’t shift from the boy in front of him. He watched Kenny sigh. “I want to know. Are you okay?”

Whatever question Kenny had been anticipating, it definitely wasn’t that. He reeled back, startled, then smiled again.

“Are you, Kyle?” He asked lightly, flopping backwards onto the ground and stretching. “Do you feel okay?”

“No,” Kyle couldn’t stop the snap in his voice even if he felt inclined to. “That’s why I’m asking you, dumbass. I had to deal with hearing you last night, you were almost freaking out, you sounded fucking terrified and I couldn’t even go to school today, it was so- it-”

Kenny’s demeanor shifted again, into something quiet. He wrapped the blanket around himself, curling away from Kyle it what he probably thought was a smooth enough move that the redhead wouldn’t notice he was trying to face away from him.

Kyle fucking noticed.

“Ken.”

“Kyle.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Kyle warned, throwing his pillow at him. Kenny took it and nuzzled down as if to sleep. “Goddamn it, Kenny.”

“Look,” Kenny was on his stomach now, hugging the pillow against him and looking over. “How about we go out? Grab a snack, get away from the parents? You’re getting loud, Ky.”

“I don’t care!” Kyle hissed.

“Don’t care that your parents are gonna find you snuck a boy into your room?” Kenny asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s not like it’s the first time!” Kyle snapped, face red.

Kenny’s eyes widened, a look of shock covering his face for a second before grinning. “Kyle! You player-”

“I MEANT YOU!” Kyle hollered, cheeks darkening to a vivid hue. Kenny was now laughing so hard he was gasping.

“C’mon, we gotta get out of here,” Kenny managed, tears still in his eyes. “Get an excuse and meet me outside, you playboy.”

“Don’t you ever call me that again, Kenneth.”

“Or what?” Kenny was already up, sing-songing his way to the window. “Don’t threaten me, babe. You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

Kyle went to put his shoes on and tug a sweater over his head, grumbling about feet up asses and how hurt feelings would be then.

#sp k2 #k2 #kyle x kenny #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #PaisleyWrites #Another short chapter with another tomorrow #Both are done but I haven't fixedthe second one yet #How is everyone tonight sup #teeny tiny chapter

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