#i think she saw her boy happy in the kitchen with eddie and immediately wanted to meet him

[formosusiniquis]

There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

[munsonsprincess11111]

It wasn't even a secret...

Eddie munson x reader

Summary: you and Eddie are married even have a new born. But thr younger hellfire members don't know?

Dustin Henderson walks into the munson trailer and hears loud music coming from Eddie's room. He approaches the room and through the crack of the door and sees a manicured hand grabbing at Eddie's bedside table only to see Eddie's not ringed hand grab it and pull it out of sight.

That's all he saw, but he got the point and left the trailer and sat in Eddie's van, which he never locked until he saw the lady exit.

But what Dustin didn't see was your wedding ring on top of Eddie's on the bedside table.

-

Months later Dustin was washing his hands in the munson bathroom when he threw the paper towel in the trash he saw a pregnancy test. It was positive. Dustin didn't mention it to Eddie or anyone thinking it was probably private.

What Dustin didn't see was how Eddie hugged you when the test came back positive as you both cried happy tears and kissed sweetly.

-

Months later Dustin and Mike approach the hellfire table and notice Eddie's not there. Weird they thought he wanted to graduate this year why would he be having time off.

"Where's Eddie?" Dustin asked setting his tray down. Gareth looks at Dustin and frowns. "What do you mean where's Eddie you know he isn't gonna be in for A few weeks." Gareth says confused.

Only then do Gareth, Doug and Jeff realise they genuinely do not know. They wasn't gonna be the ones to tell him so that's how they ended up at Eddie munson trailer skipping school.

Eddie was fast asleep an arm draped over you. He awoke suddenly to banging on the door cursing under his breath. He stands up and stretched kissing your head and peaking into the bassinet next to your side of the bed, only to see his week old daughter starring up at him with her wide brown eyes.

"Hey little lady." HE says picking her up making sure to support her head. He cradles her and heads to the door to let you sleep a bit longer. He walks into the kitchen and puts the kettle on to warm a bottle for his daughter haley. Then he walks to the front door expecting Wayne or someone.

Only to be met with a stunned Dustin and Mike. "Hello?" Eddie says confused. He let's them in as they stare at him in shock. "Whats going on guys?" Eddie asked slightly freaked out hy the look on the twos face.

"You have a baby?!" Dustin half yells.

"Dude shut the fuck up." Eddie says annoyed bouncing his daughter slightly so she doesn't cry from Dustins outburst.

"No I won't you have a baby and you didn't tell us what the fuck." Dustin half yells again.

Eddie looks between the boys with a look of confusion on his face. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room after hearing all the shouting.

"What's going on?" You ask crossing your arms over your chest. Both the teens and Eddie look at you. Your stood confused. Haley then cries and everyone looks at her.

Eddie walks over to you sliding her into your arms and she immediately stops crying as you bounce her and cradle her making soft shh noises. "Whose that's?" Mike askes Eddie's attention turning from you and haley to the two teens but you speak up. "His wife." You answer looking at the two boys

"You have a baby and a wife. How didn't we know that." Dustin says eyes wide.

"OK everyone stop, fuck me. Right. I thought you two knew but clearly you don't. This is my wife y/n who I've definitely told you about. The one I've been dating since I was like 15 and am now married to?" Eddie says waving his arms infant of you as you smile.

"OH we thought that was a cruel joke." Mike says scratching his head. Eddie looks at the boys in disbelief.

"Wow OK. This is y/n and my daughter haley who I'm gonna go with you also thought was a joke." Eddie says questionably getting nods from the boys.

"Y/n this is Dustin and Mike." Eddie says pointing at the boys rubbing his eyes.

"Hi nice to meet you?" You say still confused.

The boys says hello awkwardly.

"OK, now that's cleared up. Is that really why you came here." Eddie asks, slightly annoyed. The boys nod and explain that Gareth wouldn't tell them. You're starring at Eddie, who's clearly stressed and tired. Then, down to the little baby in your arms.

Eddie warms a baby bottle while the two teens talk to Eddie about the baby as you sit on the couch in the living room. He walks in handing you the warm bottle. "Can you feed her?" You ask quietly. But Eddie hears you.

"Yeh, yeh of course sweetheart." Eddie says sitting on the couch. You pass her to Eddie once he's sat along with her bottle kissing Eddie's cheek then haleys head before walking to your bedroom to get stuff for A shower.

"SO you like have a child." Dustin says watching Eddie feed his daughter the bottle.

"Yes and a wife." Eddie answers.

"And you've been married..." Mike says

"2 years been together for 5." Eddie says, setting the bottle by his feet, leaning back on the couch and laying the baby on his chest, gently patting her back.

"And the others knew." Dustin says as Eddie nods.

"How long are you off school?" Mike askes.

"I'm just going back to do my finals. I won't be there any other time." Eddie says as the tiny baby burps. The two nod.

Moments later you walk back in, wearing a pyjama vest and Eddie's sweats. Your stomach has shrunk since the birth of haley and it makes Eddie smile seeing you comfortable enough to wear the vest as when she was first born you wouldn't take off his hoodie.

Not that it mattered to Eddie he loved you every shape and form and you grew his baby in you. When you mentioned your insecurity to Eddie just before haley was born he comforted you and said, "either way your sexy no matter what n you've got me. If.. that helps? Probably not but you get my gist."

You sat next to Eddie and he handed you haley. "Common ill take you two home no point in going back to school." Eddie says. He too the teens to Dustin house and then came straight home.

He entered thr trailer and headed to your bedroom to see haley asleep on your shared bed and you sat up looking at her giving Eddie a smile when he entered the room. Eddie strips of everything but his boxers.

"Now give me a twirl." You says smiling at him from the bed.

He turns slowly as you clap quietly before laying on his side next to you. "SO those are two of your friends?" You say raising your brows and Eddie nods putting an arm over your waist.

Eddie looks at you then to his daughter and smiles. Taking your hand and kissing it. You lean down and kiss him on the lips.

"I love you." HE says as your foreheads touch.

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

"I love you most." You smirk kissing him again.

Yeah Eddie was a happy man. He may still be in school but he's got everything he wants Sat right on his bed. His beautiful wife and tiny daughter.

-

Months later he graduated walking off the stage hugging you nice and tight laying a sweet kiss on your lips. Wayne holding 3 month old haley who's arm where flapping for Eddie. He took her from Wayne kissing her nose as she open mouthed his cheek.

The stunned look on Jason's face to see Eddie munson holding a baby in one arm with his hair and his other arm around your waist as your hand was behind haleys head. Eddie smirked to himself kissing your head. Wayne shooting him a proud smile and nod. The others soon came running over. "Finally man thought you was gonna end up going to school with haley." Gareth says smirking at Eddie.

"Shut up Gareth." You says earning a laugh out of Eddie.

"Y/n I'm wounded." Gareth says shocked.

"You heard the lady shut up." Eddie says smirking.

Gareth rolls his eyes.

Everyone stands and talks. Eddie saying haley needs feeding so you guys have to go. In reality you had fed her before and Eddie just wanted to go home.

"I am so proud of you." You say kissing his cheek.

"Yeah? Do I get a special treat for how proud you are." Eddie smirks.

"Maybe... you'll see when haleys in bed." You say smirking at him running a hand through haleys curls.

Yeah Eddie was right. 86 was definitely his year.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello 👋🏻 for pre Eliza #ayw requests

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e0Y8tmRYYiA

I saw this video and it gave me an idea for As You Wish……Eddie and Reader take younger Ryan and Luke to a real life Hot Wheels show. I think this would blow Luke’s mind and Ryan’s brain would be trying to work out how it works. 🙂

Luke would LOVE THIS. It makes me so happy that you saw this and thought of him! I was trying to think of something for Luke’s birthday and this is just absolutely perfect for it. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Words: 5.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

When Eddie first came across the advertisement for the Real-Life Hot Wheels Show in Indianapolis, he immediately knew that he wanted to take his youngest son to it. Both sons, of course, but the youngest is crazier about the small toy cars by far. 

When Eddie saw that this show happened to be two days before Luke’s birthday, it felt like fate. The little boy’s fifth birthday was on Monday, and Saturday just happened to be the day of the big event in the big city about an hour away. Eddie immediately snatched up the phone and dialed the number printed in large, bold orange letters on the bottom of the flyer to purchase four tickets. 

In March, when the tickets had been purchased, Brittany had said there would be no problem with her coming along with her three boys to celebrate the special day. But as the week of Luke’s birthday in May approaches, suddenly, her tone has changed.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” Brittany gripes. “I have to work.”

“You had plenty of time to get the day off!”

“Maybe you should’ve reminded me a little sooner,” she snaps back.

“Wouldn’t think I’d have to fucking remind you when your son’s birthday is.”

Now Eddie has an extra ticket that he isn’t sure what to do with. Wayne wouldn’t be able to sit on the metal bleachers because of his back. Steve wouldn’t want to go while his sons are left behind at home. And it wouldn’t be fair to bring just one of the Harrington sons and not the other. Plus, there is no way that Eddie would be able to handle both of his boys plus a Harrington kid all on his own. 

There’s someone Eddie wants to invite to be the fourth person, but he’s not sure if it would be appropriate or not to bring it up. Thankfully, Ryan adores you almost as much as his father does, and practically asks the question for him. 

“Daddy!” Ryan stage whispers the moment Eddie walks through the door after work the Monday before Luke’s birthday. 

The older man raises an eyebrow at his son as he tosses his keys down on the small table he passes on his way into the living room. He kicks his black chunky boots off and scratches at his scruff with dirt-stained fingertips.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Eddie asks. 

Ryan looks around to make sure Luke is still in the bathroom. 

“I had an idea for Luke’s birthday!”

Before Eddie gets the chance to inquire further, you stroll in from the kitchen and Eddie finds himself smiling like a teenager with a secret crush. The cuffs of your denim shorts that brush the middle of your thighs are so tempting to stare at, but Eddie forces himself to keep his eyes on your face—though that’s no hard feat with how gorgeous he finds you. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you greet, and your boss feels as if he could melt on the spot just by the sound of your voice. “How was work?”

“You know,” he says with a shrug, trying to shake off any trace of fluster, “same old, same old. How were the rugrats?”

“Little Tasmanian devils,” you tease. 

“Afraid that comes with the last name ‘Munson,’” Eddie says with a dramatic sigh. His words make you giggle and a fluttering in his stomach threatens to take Eddie airborne. 

“Daddy!” Ryan rasps again, this time a little more urgently. He marches over to his father who picks him up and holds him against his toned jumpsuit-clad chest.

“What?”

“I think I know who should come with us on Saturday,” Ryan says, a smile that’s a blend of mischievous and prideful lighting up his face.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

Instead of responding verbally, Ryan turns his head until he’s grinning in your direction. The conversation between the two Munsons clearly confuses you as Eddie watches you tilt your head and raise your eyebrows in question.

“What’s Saturday?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but a loud pitter-patter coming down the hallway has the man clamping shut to avoid spoiling the surprise. 

“Daddy!” Luke cheers as he runs into the room.

“There’s the troublemaker,” Eddie says as Ryan wiggles down from his arms. Luke’s quick to be his older brother’s replacement, diving in towards Eddie, trusting that his father will catch him. He does, of course, and hefts the small boy up. “What’s new, Scooby Doo?”

“Nothin’,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh, wait. I ate an ant off the sidewalk during playground time.”

Eddie stares at his youngest son, blinking a few times before asking, “What color?”

“Black.”

“Okay, you’re fine,” Eddie says, putting the boy down. 

“That’s gross,” Ryan says as his little brother walks up to him.

Eddie shakes his head, in amusement or bemusement you’re not sure, and subtly gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen. It’s hard not to trip over your own feet as you move behind your boss. You’d follow him to Jupiter and back if he asked. 

“So, uh,” Eddie starts softly once the two of you are alone in the kitchen, “Saturday we’re going to Indianapolis for a real-life Hot Wheels show.”

The way your eyes light up with excitement has Eddie’s heart thumping against his ribs.

“Oh, he’s going to love that!” you gush. 

His responding dopey grin momentarily stalls Eddie’s train of thought before he remembers Ryan’s suggestion.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the ad for it. But, uh, turns out Brittany can’t get out of work for it.”

You hope you’re able to keep some of the fury blazing in your eyes hidden from your boss. Sometimes it’s a challenge to hold your tongue about Brittany around Eddie—that’s why your poor roommate gets an earful of it almost every day when you come home. 

“Ryan, he just, um, had a great idea,” Eddie continues. His tongue darts out and licks over his lips. “Would you be interested in coming with the three of us on Saturday? I know it’s last minute, so there’s no worry if you can’t. Or if it’s not your thing, I get that too.”

“Eddie,” you say with a soft chuckle. 

The sound vibrates through his body, liquefying his heart on the spot. 

“I would love to go with you guys and celebrate Luke’s birthday.”

Technically, you do have plans for a lunch date with your friend Lily that you’ll have to cancel, but there’s no way you can pass up this opportunity to spend extra time with the Munson men—especially Eddie. 

A sigh of release emanates from Eddie’s chest, and he gives you a grin that makes your knees weak.

“Great. It’s a surprise for Luke, so he doesn’t know anything is going on this weekend. I’m not even going to tell him even when we’re in the car on the way to Indianapolis; I’m too excited for the look on his face when he sees the real-life tracks and cars.”

“He’s going to lose his tiny mind,” you say.

“He is,” Eddie agrees with a hearty laugh. 

“Do you want me to come by on Saturday or do you want to pick me up on the way?” you ask.

Originally, Eddie had just figured that you would come to the house, but the thought of having your address is too tempting for him to give up. Not that he’ll ever do anything with the information, but just to get a peek behind the curtain into your life, a glimpse at where you start and end your days. 

“We can pick you up,” Eddie says, trying his best to be casual. “That’ll be another fun little pit stop for Luke.”

“Perfect. Here, let me give you my address.”

“This is where you live!” Luke exclaims as soon as you slip into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. 

“It is!” You turn to look at the boys over your shoulder and give them a smile. 

“Do you live on the tippy top?” Luke asks, pointing out the car window to the highest level of your building. 

“Nope, just the second floor,” you tell him as you buckle your seatbelt. 

“Not as fun,” Ryan laments.

“Will someone please tell me where we’re going?” Luke whines five minutes after Eddie has pulled out of your apartment complex parking lot. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at his youngest son through the rearview mirror.

Luke’s bright blue eyes turn skyward, and he lets out a huff that makes it sound like he’s deflating. 

“It’s a surprise.” Luke’s voice is the most monotone you’ve ever heard it.

“Exactly. And no one is going to spoil the surprise,” Eddie says as he pulls onto the highway. “So quit asking.”

He doesn’t, of course. He asks four more times over the course of the journey. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes a little over an hour, but it passes by in a flash with the constant entertainment of the Munson trio you’re traveling with. Luke’s insatiable curiosity about anything and everything only takes breaks to give out tidbits of information that he already knows. Many times, Ryan tries to get his little brother to shut up so that he can talk to you as well. And Eddie is the King of Wit as he makes you laugh with comebacks to the boys, and jokes that make your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s almost a disappointment when you have to get out of the car with them. At least you know you’ll have the ride home to experience this Munson brand of insanity once more. 

The moment Eddie puts the car into park, you keep your gaze on Luke. He’s straining in his seat to look out the window, anxious for any clue as to where he is. He’s the first one to unhook his seatbelt and hops out of the car, immediately squinting in the bright sunlight.

“It’s hot,” Ryan says as he steps out of the car. 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Eddie agrees. The man reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black hair tie. You can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch him bunch his beautiful curls up and tie them into a bun on the back of his head. Small strands of hair frame his face and you feel all the blood in your body drop to between your legs. 

At least if I pass out I can blame it on the heat instead of how unfairly fucking good my boss looks, you think to yourself. 

“What is this place?” Luke asks. He has one small hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he swivels on the spot, looking for any clues to solve this puzzle.

“Come on,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards the stadium at the other end of the parking lot. He offers his hand to his youngest son who happily takes it, eager to get whatever show this is on the road.

Ryan slips his hand into yours, which makes your insides feel as warm as your outside as the two of you trail behind Eddie and Luke. 

The closer you get to the entrance, the more you notice people wearing shirts with the Hot Wheels logo on them, but you’re hoping Luke either doesn’t notice or just thinks it’s a coincidence. The four-year-old still seems to be buzzing with anticipation when Eddie hands four tickets to the attendant who lets you through the entry way into the stadium. 

A cool, shaded tunnel is all that separates you from the main event and you’re pretty sure your excitement is greater than the kids’. Eddie looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a wink. You know it’s meant as a signal to watch for Luke’s reaction, but it sends goosebumps all over your body and you stumble over nothing as Eddie turns back around.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, his hand securely in yours so that you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m good,” you say, shakiness evident in your voice. 

Quickly, you make sure to turn your attention to Luke. Just as he’s about to step back into the sunlight with his father, you take a deep breath and hold it.

Eddie brings Luke out into the stadium proper, you and Ryan right behind them. It takes Luke a few minutes to absorb what he sees. 

In the middle of the stadium are twin life-size Hot Wheels loops, orange as bright as flames. At the beginning of each track, sit two empty racecars, both designed to look like the pocket-sized toys the youngest Munson brother collects. The one on the left looks like cans of paint were thrown on the car. Splotches of neon green, white, and a little bit of black cover the car from nose to fin. The car on the next track looks painted with more intention than its counterpart. This one has a base coat of canary yellow with dark red and blue flames emblazoned on the hood, roof, and trunk. Both cars have the signature Hot Wheels logo on the sides, in the dramatic red flourish. 

Once Luke’s brain catches up with what he sees in front of him, his eyes grow exponentially wider. Matching grins appear on both your and Eddie’s faces as you watch it all sink in for the little boy. 

“Whoa,” Luke says, eyes darting everywhere. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks, shaking his son’s hand gently.

Luke gazes around for another few seconds before looking back at his dad.

“I love it!”

Luke pulls his hand from his dad’s and jumps up and down on the spot, his little hands curling into fists that he holds against his chest. A high-pitched whine of excitement squeaks out and you can’t help but chuckle. His glee is palpable and seeing him so happy is infectious. 

“It’s Hot Wheels!” Luke turns to his brother and repeats himself. “Ryan, it’s Hot Wheels!”

“I know!” Ryan says, an elated grin on his own face. “Isn’t it so cool?”

“Yes!” Luke squeaks.

“Come on,” Eddie says, his large hand gently patting Luke’s back. “Let’s go find our seats.”

One downfall of it being such a hot day in Indiana is that the aluminum bleachers that you’re allocated to are toasty even through the material of your shorts. 

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask once you’re all settled.

“Me,” both boys say.

“I’ll come with you,” Ryan says. 

You gladly accept his offer and take his hand as the two of you venture off to find water.

On the bleachers, Luke squirms in his seat next to Eddie, so excited he can hardly stand it. The little boy tugs on the sleeve of his dad’s t-shirt and Eddie looks over at him.

“I’m so happy!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart growing three sizes at seeing his son this way. Luke’s generally a happy kid, but this euphoria is a whole different level for him, and Eddie realizes he would’ve driven to Alaska for this if it meant putting that smile on his son’s face.

“I can tell,” Eddie says. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad I found something fun for your birthday.”

“And I’m so happy I’m here with you guys!” Luke continues.

Eddie for the first time realizes neither of his sons questioned why their mother wasn’t coming with them today. No wondering why she didn’t get in the car, why she wasn’t here with the rest of the family. And neither of the boys seem to mind one bit. In fact, Luke just said he’s happy to be here with the three of you. Not his mom, but you here with them. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t agree more. He’s not about to spend his son’s birthday celebration psychoanalyzing what that means, though.

“We’re all so happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Luke’s curls. They’re slightly sweaty but neither of them cares. 

A loudspeaker crackles to life and an announcer with a booming, lively voice asks the crowd if they’re ready to have a good time today. 

“Our drivers today are Buzzy Graham and Oliver Ronald!”

The first man—Buzzy—gives the crowd a wave and jogs over to the splotchy looking car. He straps a neon green helmet on and climbs into the life-sized toy vehicle through the driver’s side window. The second driver, Oliver, also gives a wave and a smile as he makes his way over to the car painted with flames. An indigo helmet gets strapped to his head, and he slips inside of his car as well. 

The moment the show starts, and Luke hears the first revving of an engine, he’s on his feet. His hands are clenched in excitement again as he waits with bated breath for the cars to get into gear. The kid has put his cars through tracks just like these a hundred times before, now he’s ready to see the real thing in action. 

The buzz of the crowd dims as the hundreds of people in attendance wait for the show to begin. Finally, the purr of an engine sounds above all other noise and Luke clasps his hands together with an excited gasp. Ryan is also full of anticipation, sitting at the very edge of his seat and watching with eyes almost as wide as his little brother’s. 

Over the speaker, a countdown begins.

“3…2…1!”

Both cars go full throttle across the checkered starting line. Luke intakes a sharp breath and Eddie can’t help but notice it doesn’t come out right away as he watches the two cars speed along down the orange track. 

The cars approach the first loop and every muscle in Luke’s tiny body is frozen as he watches in anticipation. Ryan also has his eyes glued to the cars, but his is more of a fascination of how the cars don’t fall while they’re upside down in the loop. 

“How did they…” you just barely hear Ryan say to himself over the roar of the audience. 

Now that the cars are out of the loop, they’re coming up on the jump over a shallow ravine, to the other side of the continuing neon track, where the finish line is. 

The Splotch and The Flames both start their small incline to prepare them for the jump, and Luke’s hands go up to grab the curls on top of his head. This is possibly the most stress the kid has ever endured in his life. At least it’s the good kind, Eddie can tell. 

“Here we go,” Eddie says just as the cars are about to be airborne.

And suddenly, there’s nothing beneath the spinning black wheels but dust and air as they soar over the pass between the two disconnected parts of the track. Luke swears it all moves in slow motion. 

The rubber tires of the splotchy car touch down on the other side of the ravine first, bumping and jostling the car forward as the flames one lands a split second after it. 

The end of the track is only yards away, so the splotchy car has the upper hand and is the first one to cross over the black and white finish line.

“WOO!” Luke cheers. His hands come free from his mess of curls and he throws his arms up in the air. “Yes!”

“Wow!” Ryan stands up and claps his hands, cheering alongside his little brother. 

“Daddy, did you see that?!” Luke asks, turning his wide-eyed gaze on his father. “That was the coolest thing ever!”

The genuine excitement and happiness wafting off of, not only Luke, but Ryan too, has Eddie grinning ear to ear as he nods in response to the small boy. Eddie would absolutely agree that this is the coolest thing ever. But not for the same reasons his sons do. 

The tracks are cleaned and reset a number of times, letting different cars and different drivers take their turns. But none of the excitement will ever live up to that initial race to Ryan and Luke. Seeing those real-life Hot Wheels in motion for the first time blew their little minds. By the end, you and Eddie are both watching the boys more than the show in front of you. 

Once the last race has been run and the show has come to its end, it’s clear all the excitement and sitting out in the heat have worn the boys out—-Eddie and you too, if you were being honest. The sun is setting now and it gives you a reprieve from the heat as you head back to the car.

“So, kiddo,” Eddie says, gently shaking Luke’s hand where he holds it in his own. “Where should we stop off on the way home to grab a birthday cake?”

“I get cake today, too?” Luke asks, voice rising higher in pitch the further he gets in the question. “Awesome!”

Eddie was planning to get a second cake for Luke’s actual birthday on Monday, but guilt gnaws in his head. You won’t be there on Monday, and Brittany will.  You’ll be the one who remembers his birthday wish, always said aloud despite Ryan’s reminder to keep it a secret. 

Since you can’t be there when Luke blows out the candles on Monday, Eddie ensures that he’ll have a cake today as well. The happier cake, Eddie bitterly thinks.

“Dairy Queen!” Luke announces as everyone piles into the car. 

“Nice choice,” Eddie commends, raising his eyebrows. 

“I love those little crunchy things in the middle of the ice cream layers,” Luke elaborates as he buckles himself into his seatbelt. “They look like little clumps of dirt but taste like little nuggets from Heaven!” 

You and Eddie share an amused smile as he slips the key into the ignition and starts the car. 

“Oooh!” Ryan says, twisting in his seat to look out the back windshield. It’s dark now, but he knows it’s the general direction of where the stadium is. “Can we take our car on the Hot Wheels track?”

Luke gasps in excitement and joins in the begging.

“Please? Just once?”

“Guys, we can’t just drive on to the track,” Eddie says, shaking his head in amusement. Though he will admit to himself, that sounds like it would be so much fuckin’ fun. “Professionals drive those cars. Cars that are specifically made to do that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” you add, turning around in your seat to face the boys as Eddie pulls out of the parking space. “And I don’t know about you, but if I went upside down like that, I would feel too sick to have any delicious Dairy Queen ice cream cake.”

You’re aware your words are most likely untrue, but it gets the boys thinking about the sweet treat again rather than wanting to go perform professional stunts in the dark with no supervision. 

There’s a drug store right in front of the first Dairy Queen you come across on the drive home, so you run in there to grab some birthday candles while Eddie and the boys get a cake. 

You meet them at an outside table where Eddie is carefully removing the vanilla-frosted cake from the box. While he takes care of that, you unload the bag of supplies you bought at the drugstore. Sure, Dairy Queen had paper plates to eat off of, but there’s no way they had ones as cool as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones you found. 

“Ahhh!” Luke’s face lights up when he sees the package of plates and happily takes them from you so he can rip the plastic off. 

Of course, the matching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle napkins were a necessity as well. But with everything that Luke likes, there’s no way you could stick with one theme when you saw the party supply aisle. 

Next, out come the Scooby Doo party hats and matching noise makers. Ryan giggles as you situate his hat atop his dark golden curls and adjust the strap below his chin. Unsurprisingly, Luke went for a noise maker first, which has Eddie giving you a fake glare. With a soft giggle, you give him an innocent shrug in return.

Scooping up another cardboard cone hat, you step closer to Eddie and slide it on him. If you’re being honest with yourself, this is mostly just an excuse to touch him. The backs of your fingers lightly brush against his stubble as you hook the string on his strong jaw. His hair is still tied back, but that gives you the perfect opportunity to fix the strands of hair that frame his face when they get shifted from securing the hat. 

The moment the pads of your fingers make contact with the soft tendrils of hair, a pleasant chill runs down your spine. Doe eyes watch your face as you arrange small sections of his fly away hairs, but you don’t dare meet his eye. There’s no way you’d be able to keep all the emotions you try to keep bottled up inside from broadcasting across your face like a scroll sign in Times Square. 

You clear your throat and take a step back. Trying to will all heat away from your face, you slip on your own Scooby Doo party hat, make sure Luke is wearing his, then tear open the package of candles you bought. The frozen frosting on top of the cake has thawed a bit from being outside in the Indiana evening heat, but it still takes a little effort to stab five green striped candles around the edges of the cake, and one white one in the middle for luck.  

Eddie slips a silver lighter out of his pocket and leans in until there’s a small flame dancing on top of each candle’s wick. 

“Okay,” Eddie says as he slips the zippo back into his pocket. He moves to stand behind Luke, gently resting his hands on his son's shoulders. “One, two, three…”

A chorus of Happy Birthday to You begins and Luke’s gleeful face is illuminated even brighter by the fire casting its light. 

“…happy birthday, dear Luuu-uuuke. Happy birthday to you!”

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” you tell him.

“But don’t say it out loud!” Ryan reminds him, a hint of anger in his voice letting you know this is a regular occurrence. 

Luke’s lips form a pucker as he thinks. The gears churning in his head are practically visible as he casts his gaze upward, then downward. Then, his eyes flit to his father behind him, then over to you. A smile that you could only describe as hopeful slowly grows on Luke’s lips as he leans in towards the cake. The almost-five-year-old takes a deep inhale in through the nose, then blows all his candles out in one shot. 

The smoke curls into the air and disappears as you and Eddie clap your hands now that Luke made his wish. 

The cold cake is the perfect dessert to be eating outside on a warm summer-but-not-technically-summer-yet night. The vanilla and chocolate ice cream along with the crispy, crunchy pieces in the middle are the perfect way to end such a lovely day. 

You’ve never had a day out with the Munson men like this before. Something deep inside of you wonders if all of this was a good thing or bad thing, though. Because before you didn’t know what you were missing. Now, you know how it feels to spend time with them as a person—not an employee. Just as a friend to Eddie—-and okay, maybe still like a babysitter to the kids. But it’s so different than just being in the Munson house until Eddie comes home, get paid, then leave. This was time together. And it was one of the best times you’ve ever had. 

“You’ll always have the memory of today,” you whisper to yourself as you walk away from the guys to throw away empty plates and used napkins. “Even if I never get another day like this again, I’ll always have the memory of this one and how nice it feels to spend time with them. All of them.”

You take a deep breath walking back towards everyone, mentally composing yourself so you don’t give away that you’re getting caught up in your own head. 

“We ready to get back on the road?” Eddie asks, patting his front pocket that holds the keys. 

“Yes—oh. One second. Luke?” You chuckle and take a seat down at the table. When the little boy looks at you, you gesture for him to come over to you. “It’s a good thing I didn’t throw away all the napkins.”

There’s ice cream all over Luke’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had been trying to devour it by osmosis. 

“How did you get chocolate in your eyebrow?” you ask with a chuckle as you gently rub at the area above his eye. After one more once over, everything looks good—nice and clean. “There we go.”

“Thank you!” Luke leans in and pecks your cheek before spinning around and heading towards the car. 

The small display of affection has you giddy as you follow behind him. It’s the little moments where you realize that they love you right back that turn you into a puddle on the floor. But you’d happily stay that way if it meant the boys love you even half as much as you love them. 

Despite the recent sugar rush, it doesn’t take long once you get on the road again for the boys to fall asleep. Soft snores come from one of them, but it’s impossible to tell who since they’ve somehow come to sleep with their heads resting up against one another’s. 

It leaves no room for you and Eddie to talk, but you don’t mind. Companionable silence with Eddie is comfortable, there’s no urge to fill the silence with some small talk or forced conversation. It’s relaxing even, to sit next to Eddie and just be. There’s nothing you have to do, nothing to worry about, it’s just you sitting next to Eddie while the beauty of Indiana at dusk rushes by outside the windows. As much as you don’t want to think about it, you could definitely get used to this. 

When Eddie pulls up to your apartment complex, you almost want to be a child and beg for one more ride around the block. The boys are still sleeping and the only sound is from the crickets chirping outside as Eddie kills the engine.

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you say. “I really had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, those cars were pretty cool, huh?” Eddie asks with a soft chuckle as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. 

“Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes, they were, but I didn’t just mean them. I had a lot of fun hanging out with the three of you.” If your wife bails on you again, just let me know, you think, but almost laugh to yourself when you realize you need to correct it. WHEN your wife bails on you. 

“I had a really great time, too,” Eddie says. “I always have a great time with my boys. But you made it even more fun.”

Heat rushes to your face and you instinctively avert your gaze and duck your head. 

One of the boys lets out a whopper of a snore and it startles both you and Eddie, who let out soft matching chuckles at your own jumpiness.

“Since they’re out like a light,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the two boys snoozing in the backseat, “tell them how much fun I had with you all, yeah?”

“Will do,” Eddie affirms. 

“And give them a kiss from me when you tuck them in.” Part of you is tempted to lean in and press a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek that’s meant for him to then pass in turn to the boys, but all emotions other than desire somehow keep it reigned in. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door handle and curl your fingers around the silver lever. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” you ask Eddie, offering him a small smile. 

“Absolutely. I’d, uh, offer to walk you inside, but I’ve got these two sleeping sloths in the back. I don’t trust them alone—even unconscious.”

Your soft responding giggle has Eddie smiling in his shadowed corner of the car. 

“Bye, Eddie.” The passenger side door opens with a clack and you swing one leg out of it.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment the car door closes behind you, Eddie’s gaze falls to your ass. He watches each sway of your hips and finds his teeth sharply digging into his lower lip. 

“God damn,” Eddie mutters to himself once he sees you’re safely inside your building. 

He sits there for another quiet moment, one hand on the gear shift. After taking a deep lungful of air and releasing it slowly, Eddie turns the car back on and pulls out of the parking spot. 

The car hasn’t even made it out of the complex parking lot when Eddie hears his youngest stirring in the backseat with an overexaggerated yawn. The little boy smacks his lips together a few times before he opens his mouth and speaks in a voice still laced with sleep.

“Can I have some more cake?”

[artiststarme]

The Long-Lost Wheeler

This fic is based on this post from @kcsplace! I'm sorry it was such a long wait but thanks for letting me use your idea! There was no way I could compress all of my ideas into a one-shot so this will be a series. I hope you like it!

~*~*~*~

Eddie had never known who his mom was. He didn’t know her name or what she looked like. All he knew was that she left him with his dad when he was barely two months old and never turned around to look back. He would dream of meeting her as a child. His childish mind would dream up faceless women hugging him, making him lunch, playing games with him, and anything else moms were supposed to do with their sons. He would imagine being part of a happy family when he saw the other kids at school getting picked up by their moms and dads. 

After so many disappointments though and so many years gone by, he gave up hope on ever meeting her. She didn’t want anything to do with her own kid? He didn’t want anything to do with her. The nameless, faceless woman that gave birth to him was nothing but a surrogate in his mind. Just a stranger that brought him into this hard world to abandon him when the going got rough. From then on, he viewed her with little more than mild disinterest. 

Whenever he had asked his dad about her, he never had anything good to say. Old Richie Munson said she was a manipulative bitch that was always too good for everyone around her, always looking to find something better. His old man would get upset whenever Eddie brought her up and on one fateful occasion, shaved his entire head because ‘he looked too much like her’. After that, Eddie never asked his dad about her again. 

A few months after he moved in with Uncle Wayne, he felt safe enough to ask him if he knew who his mother was. Wayne was a lot more tactful and nice with his description of her. He told Eddie that she was just a scared lady, unsure of what she wanted and too skittish to take care of little Eddie with his dad. He made her sound like leaving Eddie was a byproduct of escaping his dad and Eddie lost some of his anger towards her after that. He’d been trying to get away from his dad for eleven years, he couldn’t fault her for fleeing when she had the chance. 

He thought about her even less after the Upside Down once he had a group of friends close enough to call family. They filled the void that his dysfunctional and fractured family had left behind. He also found an unexpected best friend in Nancy Wheeler. They had a lot more in common than he thought they would and they got on like a house on fire. Things were finally going well for Eddie which was ironic since it was a near death experience and week in hell that led to it. 

Hellfire was back in action after being banned from the school due to its “Satanic connotations” and was now being hosted in the Wheeler’s basement. Eddie didn’t have his throne anymore or his chalice of Mountain Dew and it smelled a bit like a sweaty armpit. However, he was surrounded by his friends and the happiness he felt more than made up for the downsides. 

They were on their fourth day of the campaign when everything blew up. The entirety of Hellfire club was situated around the Wheeler’s kitchen on the singular snack break that Eddie allowed over the course of the day. All of the boys were talking amongst each other while Eddie relaxed against the counter happily watching his friends being happy and munching on baby carrots. Everything was fine until Karen Wheeler walked in carrying several grocery bags that Eddie immediately went to help her with. 

“Here, I can help you with that,” he said, leaning down to her height to take some of the heavier bags out of her arms. 

“Oh, thank you. Mike never helps with the groceries, you would think one would want to help their mother-” Karen abruptly stopped talking once she made eye contact with Eddie. He stalled a bit in response before setting the bags down on the counter next to where he was previously situated. 

She nodded at him jerkily before moving over to Mike and dragging him by the ear just out of sight, not out of hearing though. Eddie could hear what she said loud and clear. 

“Michael, what is he doing here? You didn’t tell me that you were going to have that… that boy over to my house!” She sounded pissed and Eddie narrowed his eyes as he listened. 

“Who, Eddie? He’s my friend, I told you he was coming over. You said it was okay for me to have my friends over to play Dungeons and Dragons today!”

“I want him out of my house, Michael. Don’t invite him over again, he’s not welcome here.”

“What the hell, mom? Why? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Now, Michael!”

Eddie didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he knew when he wasn’t wanted. Prior to the Spring Break from Hell, he would have rebelled and relished in the unease his presence caused. However, with the majority of the town still gunning for his arrest even after he was proven innocent, he knew not to make waves. 

When Mike turned the corner into the kitchen, still glowering and angry, Eddie clapped his hands to gather the rest of Hellfire’s attention. “Alright my fellow gremlins, let’s call it a day. We’ll resume our merciless quest next Friday. Expect a call with the updated Hellfire destination sometime next week. Godspeed.” 

Understandably this caused an uproar with the Hellfire members protesting and even Mike tried to convince Eddie to stay. “No, no, no, we’re all done for the day. We don’t want to overstay our welcome. We’ll wrap up the campaign next week. End of discussion!”

He gave everyone one last look and made this way back downstairs to pack up his things. He didn’t really blame her, he thought as he grabbed his things hastily. He wouldn’t want an alleged murderer in his house either. When he made his way past Karen on his way out of the house, he paused in front of her. 

“Thanks for letting us play here a few times. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Mrs. Wheeler. I didn’t mean to. We’ll meet somewhere else next time,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

And with that he walked out of the Wheeler’s house with the dulcet sounds of Mike screaming at his mother following behind him. 

When he brought it up to Nancy just a few days later, she was perplexed. She had no idea on why her mother would be so vocally against having Eddie in the house. Karen Wheeler was known to be the perfect doting mother. To have her kick Eddie out of her home and to hate him so blatantly was almost unfathomable. She told Eddie that she would get to the bottom of it and she did. She didn’t expect to discover that Eddie was her long-lost brother that her mother abandoned. Now how was she supposed to tell Eddie?

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @kcsplace

[plasticlung]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ͜　ㅤㅤㅤㅤ/spirit of my silence, i can hear you ㅤ 𓌔ㅤㅤ♰ ㅤdescriptionㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤa one-shot where evan buckley thinks the ocean is way too big for him to handle . ㅤwhumptoberㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤday four ; 'you're still alive in my head'

ㅤmain pairㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤ(evan buckley) , eddie diaz , henrietta wilson ㅤao3 linkㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤclick here !

ㅤtagsㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤangst , hurt , slight comfort . ㅤwarningsㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤmajor character death [already dead] ㅤword countㅤㅤ˚̣̣̣ㅤ2.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ͜　ㅤㅤㅤㅤ/full fic below

Evan Buckley came into Eddie Diaz’s life way too late, and left way too early. Eddie would love to be able to hate the other, hate the way that he carved a place into his heart, only to leave it gravely empty, hate the way he can’t even open Wikipedia anymore without his tears blurring the words, hate the way the Diaz–Buckley household is once again only the Diaz, hate the way his son had to lose a parent once again.

But he can’t hate the other, even as he punches the very wall Evan once helped fix up, he can’t help but hate himself. He knew nothing could’ve prevented what happened, that if it wasn’t Buck up there, it would’ve been Chimney. He can’t help but wonder what Buck was thinking in his last moments. He wonders if he felt the whiplash of falling from the ladder or if he was still reeling from the lightning strike. Eddie has had his share of near death experiences, times where he has drifted off into consciousness not sure if he would ever wake again. During those moments, Christopher is usually the last person he thinks of, and he wouldn’t be that surprised if it was the same in Buck’s case. Not that Evan could ever tell him. Buck couldn’t ever tell him anything anymore. His best friend won’t talk about the history of wardrobes, or odd habits that whales have. 

The death of the youngest member of the 118 hit everyone hard, not even the station's firefighters and close community of them, Eddie has gotten texts from other firefighters that they have only worked with once or twice wishing him well. They had to hold two funerals for him, one for the immediate side, and another for the public, and Eddie never saw so many people in one place before. He still had tubs and tubs of tupperware full of food in the kitchen that could very well last a lifetime, but he hasn’t felt hungry ever since he watched Buck take his last breath. 

Christopher was with Eddie’s parents, they said it would be good for both of the Diaz boys to have this time. Christopher caved in, but only for a month. The school was more than willing to give him the time seeing as Buck is always brought up by the boy, and they watched as Evan would pick Christopher up from school, and attend parent-teacher meetings, everything. Eddie is sure that the teacher’s thought he and Buck were dating.

But they didn’t get the chance to. Buck died while they were still walking the tight-rope between platonic and romantic. Buck died before Eddie could admit to him that he imagined what it would be like to call him partner in more than just the job sense. Before Eddie could admit that he wants to grow old with Buck, wants to be able to share a bed and hold him in his sleep, and wants to worship each and every part of Evan Buckley’s body. 

The house was deathly silent, pun not intended. All that could be heard was Eddie’s laboured breath. He doesn’t understand why he can be sitting here while Evan is dead. He knows Buck isn’t religious, and neither can Eddie be, not when the so-called God can let Buck leave before they get their happy ending, but if heaven does somehow exist, he hopes that Buck is waiting at the gates for him. 

He doesn’t want to leave Buck waiting long, but he can’t make an orphan out of his son, he can’t have Christopher lose two of his dad’s within one year. Maybe sometime, but not now. He doesn’t know how long he stood staring at the wall before he faded into sleep, wishing he could dream of him and Buck, but instead it was an endless pit. 

— 

Hen liked to deal with her grief alone. She finds it easier to sort out things alone before letting someone inside her head. Karen didn’t always like it, but she allowed it, gave her wife some space. With the death of Buck, she made Hen begin therapy, and had some herself. This wasn’t like a bad call, or stress building up after an injury. This is death, permanent death, you can’t come back from this.

It was after a therapy session that Hen pulled up to visit Eddie, they’ve each texted the groupchat sparingly, each dealing with his death in different ways but she decided a visit to the Diaz household wouldn’t be the worse. When Eddie answered the door, he looked much better than she thought he would, if she was honest. He was put together in a way. When she last saw Bobby he couldn’t bring himself to shave and had an unruly beard, but Eddie had none of that, but the looks of it he was even just out of the shower and making the most of the day.

“Oh Hen. Come in,” he left the door open and she closed it behind her, noticing the three pairs of shoes by the door. Eddie’s black trainers that he debated on getting for the longest time until Evan surprised him with them, then Christopher’s school shoes, and on the other side of the smallest pair was Buck’s beat up trainers, full of dirt and stains. They were lined up neatly, with each person’s coat hung above it as well. “Tea ? Coffee ?”

The question was the only thing that made her move on from the display at the entrance. “Oh uhm, green tea please.” She was never a tea person, but Karen had the idea of drinking it when off shift in a way to separate the two lives, it’s been working. During the small walk past the sitting room into the kitchen, Hen could only find more and more instances of Buck being in the house. The green blanket he talks on and on about the comfort of was draped halfway off the couch, like he spent the night and left in a rush. 

“Buck isn’t back yet, but you are welcome to wait.” Hen had to stop to be sure she even heard that right. She knows the five stages of grief— denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance, and she has jumped from one to another during the last few weeks, yet it seems like Eddie has kept himself in the denial box. Hen could only look around in the kitchen, where three plates were set on the dining table, but only one chair pulled out. 

There was a whiteboard on the fridge, one she knew Buck got them ages ago, and Eddie’s purple marker was the only new one, adding notes as if there was someone else to read them. Hen’s stomach twisted and she tried not to show the discomfort on his face. She could only stare at Eddie, who moved around the kitchen with an unsettling amount of calmness, as if everything was normal. As if his partner in crime didn’t leave them all without being able to even say goodbye.

Hen just wanted to scream, to shake Eddie and tell him the dark trust that he seems to be unaware of– no, not unaware, but actively avoiding, but she held back. Not yet. “Thanks,” she mumbled as Eddie handed her the green tea. He at actress from her at the table, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t exactly an uncomfortable one, but it was clear that there was a lot that needed to be said, but Hen couldn’t find the right words for the life of her. How do you even talk to someone who’s drowning in grief but doesn’t know it yet ? It is easy to comfort people on cases because she doesn’t know them, but she watched as Eddie built a life with Buck, and now he is doing the same with his ghost.

“Eddie...” she trailed off softly, as if she was talking to one of the kids she had fostered. He looked up at her and a slight smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In fact, his eyes seemed hollow, as if they were clouded by mist and he wasn’t really seeing her. He hummed in response as if everything was normal. As if he isn’t living in the shell of the life he had once imagined with Buckley.

Hen took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. “I uh. I just wanted to check in ?” It came out more like a question than she wanted it to. “Just see how you are doing. It’s been a few weeks and...” Her voice faltered but she didn’t really have to continue. She couldn’t just say that Evan was gone. That he isn’t coming back and they have to accept it. He isn’t bouncing back this time. How could she even attempt to say that when Eddie kept glancing at the door as if he expected Buck to walk through them at any second ?

Eddie’s smile wavered only for a moment, and if Hen wasn’t constantly looking at him, she might’ve missed it. Then he spoke and his voice was way too calm and collected to seem natural. “I’m okay, Hen. Really.” Hen didn’t believe that one bit. “Chris is with my parents for now, and I’ve… I mean I’ve had a lot of time to think you know ? To figure things out.” He paused to take a sip out of his cup. “It’s hard but... Buck is coming back. I can feel it.”

Out of everything Hen thought she’d hear come out Eddie’s mouth, this was not it. She nearly choked on the warm drink. She had seen grief manifest in all kinds of ways over the years, and so had Eddie. They’ve watched people react in anger, or sadness or downright full of numbness. This wasn’t denial though. Eddie wasn’t just in denial, he was living in a whole new alternate reality. One where Buck was still alive, where a part of his world was still going to come home.

“Eddie,” she said gently once again, placing her cup down on the table and the sound of ceramic hitting against marble was the only thing heard for a moment. “I know this is hard. We are all struggling. But...” She couldn’t continue her sentence, not when Eddie suddenly interrupted her. Something she was glad for considering she wasn’t even sure where she was going to go with that.

His face hardened with an expression she has only seen a small handful of times over the years they have worked together. Usually when the Buckley parents are talking, or sometimes towards Buck’s ex-partners. “I don’t need you to tell me how hard it is,” he said with no room for argument. He took a breath and continued with a lighter tone. “I saw what happened. But he’s still– He is still here,” he tapped his temple with his finger, his eyes burning with a level of conviction that terrified her. “He is still alive.”

“Eddie,” she could only repeat his name, a total loss of words as she leaned over and took one of her hands. They were cold, she remembers how he would always complain about that and Buck would hold them cause that boy was a human heater if she ever saw one. “I know you want to believe that. So do I. But Buck– He isn’t, he can’t come back.”

For a moment Eddie’s eyes flickered and Hen thought he might break, he might’ve finally let the reality settle in. But then he stood abruptly, ripping his hand away from hers and leaving a mark from the chair on his usually clean tiles.“See this ?” He grabbed a plate by the sink and lifted it up as if held all the answers that only he could dissect. “It’s Buck’s. He had breakfast here this morning. He is just– He went out. He will be back.” He said the last sentence to himself instead of Hen.

Hen was surprised she hasn’t cried yet from this, having to swallow the lump stuck in her throat. She glanced at the plate, and then around to the meticulously cleaned and organised home– house; it hasn’t been a home for weeks now. She couldn’t keep watching this, she couldn’t just watch Eddie dig a deeper hole for himself. “Buck’s gone. He’s not coming back” she whispered, feeling like they are going around in circles.

“No !” His voice cracked and dropped the place into the sink’s basin without a care for it breaking. “No he’s not gone.” He stressed out. “He’s here, Hen. He is here.” He pointed around the room, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “His shoes, his jacket, his blanket, his goddamn plate ! He is not gone.” 

He had tears in his eyes at this point, ones that he might’ve brushed off as frustrated ones but Hen matched him, tears welling up in her own eyes as the grief she had been holding back as well for weeks crashed over her. She got up softer than he had and moved over to him as he continued to mutter that Buck was going to come back. She touched Eddie’s arm gently in an attempt to ground him and pull him out of the spiral he was quickly falling into.

Eddie’s face crumpled, and for a moment Hen genuinely thought he might collapse right then and there in front of her. His chest heaved with sobs that he was trying to hold back and his hands curled up into fists. For a moment Hen thought he might last out, at her, at the world, at the unbearable weight on his back but instead he sank to the floor, she didn’t hesitate to kneel beside him and wrap her arms around his shaking form, only barely keeping her own tears from spilling over.

[londonharrington]

happiness | eddie munson x fem!reader

dustin delivers some very bad news to Y/N.

notes: MAJOR S04E09 SPOILERS, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT. Very angsty. Might have cried while writing this. Not edited and written on my phone, so sorry for any spelling errors.

there’ll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you

After the major earthquake that hit Hawkins, every single family started packing up to leave town immediately. Among these families included Y/N’s.

“Don’t you worry, honey. We’ll be out of this town very soon,” her mom said, carrying out kitchen stuff to their car.

But it wasn’t the thing that Y/N was worried about. She hasn’t seen her boyfriend, Eddie, ever since he was accused of being Chrissy Cunningham’s killer along with the other murders that happened the pass few days.

She knew in her very core that Eddie was not responsible for the murders that happened. He would’t hurt anybody. He even was screaming and crying when he killed that one cockroach in his trailer now he is being framed for the murders.

Y/N may not know Eddie’s current whereabouts but knew something did not feel right. That, she was sure of.

Taking her mind off things, she started cleaning her bedroom, until someone her name.

“Y/N! A boy named Dustin is here for you!”

Y/N was confused on why Dustin was here. The two of them weren’t very close but she knew that he was one of Eddie’s friends and club mates. 

“Hey, Dustin! What are you doing here?”

“I have something to tell you, Y/N. But you may want to sit down for this,” he started.

Y/N’s breath got caught in her throat. An unsettling feeling ran through her body as she nodded and ushered Dustin to her backyard so they can talk.

“Dustin, do you know where Eddie is? I’ve been looking for him for days now,” she started but suddenly stopped when tears started forming in Dustin’s eyes, “Dustin? Why are you crying?”

Dustin pulled a bag in his pocket and gave it to Y/N. She opened the bag and saw Eddie’s rings and his favorite necklace, the one she gave to him.

“Why do you have these, Dustin? Where is Eddie?” she asked, as tears started to pool in her eyes.

“Y/N, Eddie fought to keep you and this town alive. But he did not make it.”

The tears she was holding back started falling down as she shook her head.

“No! Dustin, you’re lying, right? Eddie’s not gone. He’s just hiding from the police, right?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was there when he died.”

Y/N was full on sobbing at this point. She stood up as she repeatedly shook her head no. She did not want to believe the boy but she knew deep down that he was telling the truth.

“This- this cannot be happening.”

“You know, Eddie loved you very much, Y/N.”

Y/N started to cry harder, “Don’t start now, Dustin. Please, don’t,” she begged him to stop but the boy continued.

“It’s true. He loved you more than anything in life. In the times he did not talk about D&D, all he talked about was you. When you walk in the room, he looked as if an angel just passed by. And though, some times it was really annoying, especially when the two of you would make out with one another in front of all of us, he really showed how much he loved you,” Dustin sniffled, wiping some of the tears that were in his eyes, “Eddie’s last request was for me to let you know how much he loved you and to tell you that you’ll be alright even when he’s not here. That you were his entire life as he was yours.”

This broke Y/N. She knew that she loved Eddie, but she wasn’t sure if he did love her back. Now, all she wished was he was the telling her all of this instead of Dustin. All she wished is that she was able to tell him that she loved him too, so much. So much that it hurt a lot to think about it right now. So much that she was willing to stay here away from her family just for him. So much that it was getting hard to breathe because of the information she just received from Dustin.

“Thank you, Dustin. For doing what he said and for giving me these. I’m sure that it was hard for you, as well. But I think I need to be alone right now.”

Dustin nodded as he gave Y/N a hug as he left her house. Once she saw Dustin was gone, she bolted towards her bedroom where she cried even harder. She just can’t accept that the love her life is gone and she wasn’t even there to see him one last time.

She fished out Eddie’s necklace from the bag that Dustin gave to her. Her hands shaked as she put the necklace around her neck. She leaned on her wall as she sat down still crying. Grieving the loss of the greatest love she knew and will ever know.

A/N: no thoughts. empty head. my head really hurts from crying. this is how i cope with baby eddie’s death.

taglist in the reblog

add yourself to my taglist

[finnyboywolfhard]

Shut Him Up

Richie Tozier x Reader 

Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)

summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up. 

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 2.1k 

           Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.

“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.

“You sure are happy to see me.”

“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”

“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.

“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.

“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.

“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.

“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”

“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”

           Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”

“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.

“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.

“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.

“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.

“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”

“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”

The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.

“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.

“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”

“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.

“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“

“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.

“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.

“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.  

“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.

“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.

“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.

“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.

“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.

“Y/N/N.”

“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.

“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.

           The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.

“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.

“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.

“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.

“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.

“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.

“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”

“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.

“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.

“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.

“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.

“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.

“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.

“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.

“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.

“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.

“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.

“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”

“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.

“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.

“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.

“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”

“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”

“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”

“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.

[apiratewhopines]

This one is a gift for @teamhook because she is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.

Thanks to @jrob64 for giving me advice on artwork and to ultraluckycatnd for reading over this chapter

Midnight

Chapter 1 — The Prince

Summary: In which our heroine meets cute

Chapter 1 of 7 on AO3

“But don’t forget folks,

That’s what you get folks

For makin’ whoopee”

-Makin’ Whoopee, Eddie Cantor

Emma Swan had been in some tight spots, but she’d never been in a run out of gas on a deserted highway with a dying cell phone battery and a stomach as empty as her bank account kind of situation before. In truth, she blamed this unfortunate situation on the same person she blamed all the misfortunes of her adulthood. Neal Cassidy.

There was a time a few short months ago she would have done anything for the man responsible for her current circumstances. Neal had been too good to be true. A real Prince Charming, down to the supposed trust fund and a smile that made her believe in happy endings.

She’d been a sucker. She heard one was born every minute, she just never thought her time would come. After all, one of the few things she learned in the foster system was how to spot bullshit from a mile away. But he looked at her with his soulful eyes and whispered promises in his smoky voice and she fell for it. More than once, actually, and all she had to show for the wasted years was a voicemail box full of collection calls and a wolf at the door.

Because Neal Cassidy didn’t just leave her. He stole her identity, maxed out her credit cards, and took out half a dozen loans in her name. Then he proceeded to use the money to wine and dine a wide assortment of women, the sheer number of which would make Casanova blush. All the while professing his undying love and spending his days eating all her food and watching television from his favorite seat on the couch.

Seriously, you could still see the faint outline of his backside on the cushion.

As countless victims of his schemes started showing up at her door looking for the man who made them feel alive while killing them one dollar at a time, she listened to tears and rants and misery with ill-disguised impatience. How had she become the counselor to the trail of broken girls he left in his wake? When was it going to be her turn to moan and groan and swear she’d never love again?

Well, she did get around to the swearing to never love again part. Some mistakes don’t bear repeating.

The final straw happened two months ago. Neal had disappeared after their final fight. His righteous indignation at being called on his crap and inability to find a plausible excuse for the stack of overdue bills and statements she found stuffed in the back of his gym bag made it difficult to share the same space. She wanted him gone even as her hands itched to touch him one more time.

Unfortunately, leaving her drowning in debt with the knowledge he cheated on her for the majority of their relationship wasn’t enough for him. He decided to do some collateral damage on his way out of town.

He did the unforgivable. He went after Granny.

His target was meant to wound her. While he lied and schemed the entire time they were together, she had been an open book for the first time in her life so he knew Granny was the sole connection she formed as a foster. Her brief stay with the woman before she aged out of the system was a time of peace and healing. Granny was responsible for helping her get on her feet and the two maintained a friendship years later.

Emma received the frantic call from Ruby explaining her grandmother had been tricked into giving Neal a blank check so he could do her grocery run. Hours later, she received a notification from her bank saying her checking account had been wiped out. At that point, the tenuous control Emma had on her emotions disappeared. She sat on the kitchen floor of the apartment she was about to lose, staring at empty walls that still echoed with his laughter in her weaker moments, and she broke into a million pieces.

So it was no wonder she vowed to have her vengeance. To do anything and everything to make him pay. Luckily, since he skipped out on a court date, catching him would also get her paid.

Tracking him had taken more time than she liked to admit. She was good; even penniless and running out of options, she recognized her worth and knew she possessed hard to find skill sets. But she had a sinking sensation that he might be better.

Now she was stranded on the side of the road with nothing except her most uncomfortable shoes to keep her company. But damn did they make her legs look good and with everything else in her life collapsing around her, somehow that seemed important.

Squaring her shoulders, she climbed out of the car and pondered her next course of action. She was unfamiliar with the state road connecting the two small towns on the Maine coast, so she had no idea what the odds were that a good samaritan would happen along. She had just enough juice in her battery and lettuce in her account to call for an Uber to take her to the seedy nightclub where Neal was last seen. Or she could walk the rest of the way in her mile-high heels knowing she never looked better, even though she would probably not be able to move the next day without a significant amount of pain.

What she would do if she found him or where she would stay if she didn’t weren’t questions she was ready to entertain.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and with a huff of frustration opened her app. Pleading with whatever powers that be to let her last long enough to see herself through to the other side of this, she leaned against her beaten down yellow Bug and waited for the black sedan to show.

Of course, her phone died immediately after she booked her ride, finally giving up the ghost even though she didn’t get a chance to see the name or license plate of her hired car. Getting more anxious by the minute, she paced along the shoulder, careful to keep on the pavement since the ground was soft from recent rain. After what seemed like forever, but had probably not been more than half an hour, the headlights of a lone car crested a nearby hill.

“About time,” she muttered. To make sure the driver knew she was not pleased with the delay or the prodding pace he maintained despite the fact the sky seemed ready to open at any moment, she moved out into the middle of the lane and placed her hand on her hips. Pride kept her from squinting even though the bright high beams made her eyes water as the car approached.

Slowing from a crawl to a stop, the driver put the car in park and jumped out. It was dark and the man was dressed all in black, but as he moved around to the front of the car, she got the impression of blue eyes and a stubble-covered jaw that could probably cut glass. Great, just what she needed. A sexy Uber driver.

“Alright there, love?”

With a British accent. He probably smelled like bacon, too.

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all night.”

Moving closer, he smiled with a hint of confusion. “Had I known you were waiting for me, I would have been along sooner. Tell me, do you always accost strange men in the dead of night on empty roads?”

“Only when I’m paying them to take me where I need to go,” she grumbled, walking toward the back door on the passenger side. She pulled it open as he protested, and glared at him over the top of the car.

“Love, I think there may be a bit of a mix-up—“

“It’s fine. I won’t give you a bad rating for being late as long as you don’t talk to me. I’ve been driving for hours to get here and I need to think.”

She heard him sigh and saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled at her again. “Very well. Would you like me to get your bags?”

“You’d have to go to a pawn shop in Boston to accomplish that,” she joked, dropping into the leather seat and noticing for the first time the expensive luxury of her rented carriage. She supposed if she was going to spend her last dime on a ride, she could have done far worse.

She resisted the urge to use the low ambient lighting of the dashboard to get a better look at her temporary chauffeur. The glimpse she got outside was more than enough to know she needed to keep her distance. It didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of his stare as he peeked over his shoulder while clicking on his seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw his tongue flicker slowly over his bottom lip before he turned his attention back to the road.

“Nice dress. Where are we heading this fine night, Miss…?”

“You’re really terrible at this. Is it your first time being a driver for hire?”

“What gave it away, love? It’s quite an unexpected development that came about just this evening. But you know what they say, you never forget your first.”

It was everything she could do not to laugh. She had a feeling it would only encourage him and if she was heading into battle, she needed her wits about her. “The Snakehole Lounge.”

“At the risk of sounding cliche, why would a nice girl like you want to go to a place like that?”

“I’m not a nice girl,” Emma informed him without a hint of irony or bravado. “And your rating is going down with each syllable out of your mouth.”

“Tough lass,” he murmured. “But do yourself a favor. Stay away from the Snake Juice.”

Little did he know that even if she wanted to have a drink, and boy did she ever, she used the last of her meager funds to get to this backwater place and she wasn’t sure where her next meal would come from. “I’ll do my best.”

The rest of the ride passed in silence. She spent the time looking out the window at the trees flying by and trying to ignore how every time she looked away, her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror.

Honestly, it was probably a good thing they were the only people for miles around or he would have gotten them both killed.

Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of a shabby nightclub. Even the multitude of neon lights flashing “Girls! Girls! Girls!” and “Half-Price Beer Buckets” did little to enliven the dingy exterior. They didn’t bother with a bouncer, probably because no one actually wanted to get in.

Before she could say anything, her driver was out of the car and rounding his way to her door. She didn’t have a chance to object as he opened it and looked at her with avid curiosity. She had to admit she was impressed he didn’t give into it and ask any questions.

“Since we’re out of the car, am I allowed to speak again?”

Perhaps she had been too hasty in her internal praise. “Thanks for the ride. I hope your next passengers are more chatty since that’s what you’re into...overall, a solid three stars.”

“Three stars? I’d be surprised, but I had a feeling you were warming up to me between the baleful stares and eye-rolling.”

Gifting him with another of the said eye rolls, she adjusted the hem of her skirt to show a little more leg and walked away. She knew if she stayed a second longer she would give in to the almost magnetic pull of him and say something foolish like, ‘What’s your name?’

—

The inside of the establishment was every bit as horrible as the outside. The low lighting obscured the grime and wear that would be glaringly obvious otherwise. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the kind of place Neal would gravitate to since he was a dirty little rat.

Music heavy with bass pumped out a rhythm entirely too fast for the energy of the place. The few patrons who persevered this far into the night looked anemic as tired dancers did their best to act like they wanted to be there. Pulling her ID from the scrap of a bra she wore under her dress, she flashed it at the lone employee who manned the entrance and the bar. He gave it a cursory glance and turned back to his phone.

Snapping her fingers under his nose to get his attention, she pulled out a grainy photo of her quarry from the same location and asked, “Have you seen this man recently?”

“I’ve never seen anyone. Ever.” The man grumbled, not interested in the slightest. She wondered if he would stop her if she walked behind the counter and helped herself to a drink. She was leaning toward no and tempted to try.

“Tell you what buddy, take a good look at this picture. Then look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t seen him and we’ll end the night without any trouble.”

Something in her tone must have penetrated his disillusionment and he gazed at her with more interest than he’d probably shown anything in years. She waited as he glanced at the photo for a few seconds. “No, sorry. If he’s been here, it wasn’t during any of my shifts. Is he your husband or something?”

“He’s something alright,” she muttered. Defeated, she turned around without another word. She used the last of her resources to fund a wild goose chase, but at least it got her into town. Only thing left to do was find a park or quiet bench somewhere safe to sleep for a few hours and then she would tackle whatever came next. It wouldn’t be the first time she roughed it, although she had never attempted it in formal wear before.

Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, she immediately froze. Her three star driver was waiting at the curb as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she hadn’t given him the brush off.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yes, especially since I’m pretty sure our business is done,” she replied, walking past him and wishing the man could be a tiny bit less handsome. Now that the streetlights of the small town were there to illuminate their interactions, she couldn’t deny he was ridiculously attractive and exactly her type, complete with a black leather jacket and messy hair begging to be pulled. And, heaven help her, he was determined to extend their acquaintance apparently.

“It’s just good sense, love. I figured you’d be in need of transportation again, so why waste the gas to leave when I’d have to turn around after you called for your next ride.” He matched his stride to hers as she did her best to increase her pace.

Sighing, she stopped at the corner and looked at him. “Listen, I could tell you my phone is dead and I need to make a few more stops, that I’d pay you when you drop me off at my place at the end of the night, but it would be a lie. I’m chasing down a bounty. I need the money to pay for a ride and I need a ride to make the money. A smart man like you can see the problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She turned away again but felt him leap into action behind her. He moved to cut off her escape and said, “Double or nothing.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Double or nothing, sweetheart. I take you to wherever you need to go tonight and when you collect your fee, you pay me double whatever the normal fare is for jaunts like these.”

“What if I don’t find him?”

“That’s where the nothing comes in, lass. A smart woman like you can see the benefit of such an arrangement.”

She studied him, hoping to find some ulterior motive in his seemingly selfless offer, but all she saw in his expression was an earnestness bordering on being painful and a thirst for adventure barely contained. Perhaps this was how he got his kicks in an isolated town. He propositioned strangers and gambled on fate. “No strings? No funny business?”

“This whole business is funny, but I’ll behave myself if you will. We’ll have much less satisfaction that way, but I’ll do my best to rally my spirits and overcome my disappointment.”

With a rueful shake of her head, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I guess we’re doing this. I’m Emma Swan.”

“Killian Jones, driver extraordinaire and captain of this fine vessel, at your service. Where’s our next stop?”

“I need to go to every seedy bar and filthy dive in the area so you tell me, Captain.”

—

She wasn’t sure what it said about her newfound companion that he was able to rattle off several places in a matter of seconds, but as the night stretched on and the miles racked up, she found she rather liked her tour guide. Which was probably a good thing since at this rate, she would be splitting the bounty fifty-fifty with him. Who knew the twin cities of Storybrooke and Misthaven had so many sleazy places to hang out?

“I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, Swan. Are you sure he’s in the area, because every traveler worth his salt makes a point to stop by Moe’s Tavern while visiting our fair city.”

“I can see why. The thrift-store ambience is delightful and the watered down drinks are to die for,” she murmured as she rested against the side of his car. She was tired and weak from hunger and as much as she wanted to curl up in the back seat and sleep, she was scared she’d get used to the comfort he was offering and do something she might regret later.

She was trying to figure out how to cut and run without seeming ungrateful when her stomach growled loudly.

In a playful tone belaying the concern in his eyes, he asked, “Was that your stomach? Bloody hell, am I in danger? Are you going to try to eat me to satisfy the beast within?”

Feeling a blush color her face, she avoided his gaze as she said, “Sorry, I...um, I skipped dinner.” And breakfast and lunch for that matter.

Taking up a position next to her, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell the truth, when was the last time you ate something, lass?”

“Hmm, what day is it again?”

“As I suspected. Come on, I know just the spot.” Pushing off from the car, he gently moved her and opened the door to the backseat.

She wanted to fight, to tell him she could take care of herself. She would have too, if she had any energy at all. Meeting his eyes for the first time, she joked, “You lost a gamble, Captain. That doesn’t mean you have to feed it.”

“I consider it an act of self-preservation. I figured you for a man-eater the first moment I laid eyes on you, but I’m afraid you might prove me right in unexpected ways if we don’t get some food in you soon.”

“As long as eyes are all you plan on laying on me, I accept your gracious offer,” she replied with a narrowed stare. Before Neal, she trusted her instincts. She would have insisted they were infallible, but he had shaken her confidence. She couldn’t risk being wrong about Killian Jones of the electric eyes and perpetual helpfulness.

“No strings. No funny business, Swan. Those are the rules. Get in, your chariot and dinner awaits.”

He stood a few feet from her, urging her into the car and she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it, but before she could change her mind, the words were out. “I’d rather ride in the front this time if that’s okay with you.”

His smile could have melted metal, tempted angels to fall, and inspired devils to repent. It was probably lack of rest and food causing her stomach to do flip flops. Or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have…” He closed the back door with a firm finality that echoed through the night and somehow felt momentous in the thick air of summer. When he opened the passenger door, the light seemed warmer and it bathed him in softness and shadows. He waited patiently as if he knew something had shifted between them and he didn’t want any sudden movements to break the odd spell.

Then her stomach growled again, angry at the promise of food being delayed while she gawked at the man who was determined to rescue her in every imaginable way.

“And dinner, of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered, taking care not to make contact with his body as she slid into the seat. She was glad the door was already closed when she left out a huff of air. Good thing she had sworn off love or she may be in some danger.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[moldisgoodforyou]

the one with the cowboy hat

a continuation of this ask - thank u anon for asking for more! 

also a prompt of this ask! thank u anon for the inspiration

warnings: nsfw, cursing, jealousy, smut

word count: 2.7k

every year, beta hosted their annual halloween party for greek row, and it was the one party a year that other fraternities were invited to. (the general philosophy behind that being ‘the more girls, the better.’) everyone was required to wear a costume, security would kick you out otherwise, and all the boys not in beta were required to bring one of two things: a keg for every three guys or a 12-pack or handle of whatever for each guy. the house was always packed, spilling out onto the basketball court outside. 

at the party, charlie was roped into a game of shot roulette with some of jj’s frat brothers. unfortunately for her, she was currently five shots in and hadn’t won a round yet. (she had already pregamed the pregame with a few tequila shots with grace - just a boost of confidence for the outfit alone.) seeing his girlfriend wince as she knocked back another shot of deep eddy, jj ducked down to whisper in her ear. “I’ll go get you some water, okay?” 

he made his way to the kitchen and came back to find a boy in a half-assed costume, just a jersey and a backwards hat, clinking shot glasses with charlie. he didn’t recognize him. jj leaned against the wall and watched from a distance - until the boy leaned down to whisper in charlie’s ear and wrapped his arm around her waist. charlie stepped out of his grip and glanced around, looking for her boyfriend. jj came up behind her and handed her a bottle of water. “hey charlie, let’s go check out the party outside,” he offered, not trying to make a scene. 

the boy gave jj a look. “we’re kind of busy here, bro.” charlie bit back a smirk as she watched the exchange. jj stood in front of charlie, puffing up his chest. “busy with what?” the guy grinned, lowering his voice so only jj could hear. “I was telling her how hot she looked in her little outfit. are you her friend or something?” jj set his jaw, hands curling into fists. “or something, yeah. I would back off if I were you.” charlie frowned and nudged jj’s back from behind, trying to keep him in check. 

jj only straightened up more as the guy did the same. “yeah? what are you gonna do about it, cowboy?” he asked, mocking jj’s costume. at that, charlie quickly stepped forward and put herself in between the two boys. “I don’t think my boyfriend’s too happy about you hitting on me.” the guy raised his eyebrows, putting two and two together with the matching costumes. “yeah? how come he won’t do something about it, then?” he reached forward, shoving jj’s shoulder. jj immediately grabbed the front of his jersey in his fist, getting in his face. “leave her the fuck alone.” he growled. a few guys from both fraternities had gathered, watching the situation in case either needed backup. 

the boy grinned, clearly looking for a fight, and looked over jj’s shoulder to address charlie directly. “is he bothering you, doll?” charlie groaned and tugged at the back of jj’s shirt. “don’t do it, jj.” he took a deep breath and dropped the boy’s shirt. “get the fuck out.” the guy rolled his eyes and put his hands up, walking away without a word. 

as he turned back to face charlie, she gave him a look, smirking a little. jj ran his hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. “are you done?” she asked. “he had his arm around your waist, and I saw how easily that bandana came undone earlier.” jj pointed out. charlie raised her eyebrows. “are you jealous?” jj shook his head. “never. I know you’re my girl. but I only want my hands on you.” charlie blushed and bit her lip. “I can think of other places I want your hands.” jj sucked in a breath. “we haven’t even made it to the bars yet and you’re already teasing me?” charlie laughed. “interpret that however you want.” 

on the way to the bars, seven of them piled into one pledge’s car. it was close, but they took advantage of the ride. charlie opted to sit on jj’s lap, grinning when he groaned softly into her ear. she kept shifting on him until he grabbed her hips to hold her in place. “stay fucking still,” he growled into her ear. “if you could just control yourself, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she whispered back. he moved his hand to squeeze her thigh, slipping his thumb under the hem of her skirt. she grabbed at his hand, stilling his movement just as they pulled up to the bar. 

everyone in the car piled out and charlie laughed when she saw jj’s slightly pained expression. “ready to go in?” he shook his head, refusing to look at her. “give me a second.” charlie reached up and kissed his cheek, her lipstick leaving an imprint. “okay, I’ll see you in there -” he grabbed her hand, pulling her back before she could go. “no way. I said I’m not letting you out of my sight.” she grinned and lifted his hand, twirling herself. “come on, j, I wanna dance.” 

later in the night after a handful of drinks, jj couldn’t resist the call of the restroom. “hey thomas, watch charlie for me?” he asked, pointing to his girlfriend currently grinding on her sorority sister. thomas was double-fisting vodka redbulls and shrugged. “whatever dude, go do your thing.” he turned away the second jj left to chat up a girl at the bar. jj returned from the bathroom and groaned when he spotted charlie dancing up on a booth, hands above her head. 

he walked past thomas, smacking him upside the head as he went, then offered a hand up to charlie. she grinned when she saw him, reaching out. “jj! come dance!” he heard a whistle from behind them as her bandana top was dangerously close to showing off way too much and whipped around, finding the guy with his fingers still in his mouth, about to whistle again. “fuck off, she’s not an object.” he got up on the booth and wrapped his arms around her waist, hauling her down. charlie pouted, reaching up to fix her hat, and jj quickly grabbed her hands and pulled them down. “what are you doing?” charlie asked, swaying a little. jj reached out and adjusted her top, scowling. “fixing this damn bandana, that I should have just duct taped to you in the first place. I can see the entire side of your tits when you raise your hands.” 

charlie grinned, slowly lifting them. “you mean like -” 

he grabbed at her hands again and pinned them to her sides. “charlie. are you even wearing a bra?” he asked, already knowing the answer. she smirked. 

“maybe. maybe not. you’ll just have to find out.” he groaned and took the rest of the vodka lemonade in her hand, knocking it back. 

charlie gasped. “maybank! I wasn’t finished!” 

he raised his eyebrows. “I can think of better things we could be doing.” 

her breath caught and she nodded. “let’s get out of here.” 

the bar was located only a few blocks from the beta house, so they walked. she took his hand in hers, swinging it between them. “I like it when you’re jealous.” charlie told him, the alcohol giving her loose lips. he raised his eyebrows. “yeah? I thought you didn’t.” charlie shook her head and pulled his arm around her shoulders, still holding his hand. “it’s kind of hot. when you’re all possessive. and you get this little growl in your voice, it just -” she shivered, making a small moan of pleasure. he grinned and let go of her hand, tugging at the bandana top. “yeah? tell me more.” she swatted at his hand. “careful, I don’t want to flash all of greek row!” 

as they walked in the beta house, he laughed and bent down, lifting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry with ease. she squealed and squirmed, and he moved his hand to cup her ass through her skirt. “my skirt is way too short for me to be in this position,” she complained, pinching his hip. he smirked, walking upstairs. “I know. that’s why you’re in this position.” he set her down once they made it into his bedroom and shut the door. 

she grabbed the bandana around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss. he plucked the cowboy hat off her head, setting it down on his nightstand. “we didn’t finish our conversation earlier.” he murmured against her lips in between kisses. “you just want your ego stroked.” she replied, pushing his cowboy vest off his shoulders. he grinned. “I want something else stroked, pretty girl.” 

charlie laughed and hooked her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to hers. “I like seeing you be all protective,” she told him, kissing down his jaw. “and I hate it when you fight, because I don’t want you to get hurt, but it’s fucking hot when you step in front of me and threaten something, just because some guy said something stupid about me.” jj made a small noise of protest and slid his hands down to her hips, tugging at the zipper of her skirt. “he was hitting on you. you’re mine.” charlie nodded. “I know.” she kicked off the skirt and jj groaned, seeing her pink lace panties. “did you get those just to match the costume?” she grinned, unzipping his jeans and tugging them down his legs. “maybe?” 

jj stepped out of his pants, kicking them aside. his breath caught in his throat as she palmed him over his briefs. “you’re such a tease,” he growled. she shook her head as she untied the bandana around his neck. “hardly.” he walked her backward, hands roaming as they kissed, until they both fell onto the bed. he grabbed the bandana tied around her chest and pulled, shaking his head as the safety pins came undone. “you’re not wearing this again. this is way too dangerous.” she grinned. “only for you, maybank.” 

he reached between her legs and rubbed circles over her clothed pussy, loving the way she arched her back toward him. she reached down and slipped her hand in her briefs, wrapping her fingers around him. “fuck, charlie.” he mumbled against her lips. “flip over, I want to suck you off.” she told him, trying to use her hips as leverage. he shook his head. “no, I won’t last. I want to eat you out first. you’re so fucking pretty.” she pulled his hand out from his briefs, ignoring his protest, and grabbed his wrists from underneath him, trying to fight for dominance. he shook his head and twisted them out of her grip, then grabbed hers in return, pinning her down on the bed. 

she gasped softly as he kissed down her chest, nipping at her collarbone. “j.” she argued, pushing her hips up into hers. “no.” he replied, biting her nipple teasingly. she cried out and he looked up in surprise, amused. “you like that, sweetheart?” charlie whined, squirming under him. “I want my lips around your cock.” he groaned and released her wrists, then pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them aside. “I want you screaming under me first, dirty girl.” 

he wasted no time licking a wide stripe up her entrance and charlie sighed in pleasure. he buried his face in her pussy, his nose pushing against her clit. “you were teasing me all fucking night with your little outfit. don’t pretend I didn’t see when you bent over.” he growled against her, hands gripping her thighs. charlie moaned, pushing her hips against his face. “fuck, j.” his tongue darted in and out of her, aggressive. “I want to hear you, charlie. I want this whole fucking house to know that you’re mine.” she reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair, breathing hard. “j, I’m -” he went to suck her clit, sliding two fingers into her and curling them toward him. “scream for me, sweetheart.” he murmured against her. charlie did exactly that, calling out his name as she rode out her high, her thighs shaking. 

“holy fuck, j.” she mumbled as he withdrew his fingers from her. he smirked and pressed his fingers against her lips. “suck.” he commanded and charlie opened her mouth, taking her time to lick her juices off his fingers. he groaned, sitting back on his knees, and she took the opportunity to push him back onto the bed. “my turn.” she said, tugging his briefs off. he reached down, gathering her hair aside. “so demanding, pretty girl.” 

she grinned seeing how hard he was, wrapping her fingers around him. she slid her thumb over the head of his cock, collecting some precum, then spit directly onto him. he groaned, closing his eyes. “shit, charlie.” she took her time, slowly bobbing up and down on him. he bucked his hips into her mouth and she pulled away, glaring up at him. “will you last?” he shook his head, tugging at her hair and she moaned quietly. his eyes snapped open in surprise. “that turns you on?” he tugged again experimentally and charlie blushed, sucking in a breath. he grinned and she scowled. “shut up.” she returned her lips to his cock, taking in as much of him as she could. “I didn’t say a word.” he groaned. “charlie, let me fuck you.” 

she pulled away, licking a stripe up his cock as she went. “I want to be on top.” 

“absolutely not.” he shook his head, reaching over to the nightstand for a condom. 

charlie threw herself on top of his extended arm, pinning it down. “I’m on top tonight.” 

he laughed, shaking her off with ease and grabbed a condom, rolling it down his length. “no. I’m in control.” she leaned into him and bit his lip, grinding her hips against him. “I was a cowgirl tonight, it’s only fair.” he laughed and paused, considering it as he slid his hand down her side. “you’re so fucking stubborn.” 

she grinned. “is that a yes?” 

“under one condition.” she raised her eyebrows as he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her pink cowboy hat. “I want you to wear the hat.” 

she laughed as he extended it to her. “the hat, really? is that what does it for you?” he grinned and laid on his back. “put it on, cowgirl.” she set it on top of her head and straddled him, rocking her hips against his length. he groaned, reaching up to pinch her nipple lightly. she bit her lip, letting her head fall back. “you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” jj told her, moving his hands to rest on her hips. she moaned as he guided his cock into her, her eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of him filling her up. 

she leaned forward, resting her hands on his abs for leverage as they matched each other thrust-for-thrust. she reached a hand down in between them, rubbing her clit and jj groaned at the sight. “you are so fucking sexy, pretty girl,” he breathed out, not taking his eyes off her for a second. her breathing grew faster and higher-pitched, rocking her hips against him. she clenched around him as she came, screaming out. “oh my god, j!” he followed soon after with loud groans. 

she got off him with shaky legs, tossing the hat aside before laying next to him. he curled his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “that was so fucking hot, walker.” he murmured against her ear. she was still catching her breath and laughed softly. “and you almost didn’t let me on top.” he pressed a kiss to her temple. “yeah, don’t get used to it.” he paused, then tugged the end of her hair gently. she let out a tiny moan, almost inaudible. “maybank.” she mumbled, sending him a glare. he smirked. “we’ll have to explore that later, won’t we, pretty girl?” she swatted at his chest, blushing. “in your dreams.” he grinned. “don’t worry. you always are.”  

[tinalbion]

Headcanons for (Freddy Krueger, Inkubus, Mayor Buckman, Dr. Andover) being obsessed with/having a twisted "crush" on (one of) their latest victim(s), if you do not mind terribly. Maybe there's just *something* about them...But she fights and refuses.

First off, all the Englund character group?! Yes, omg PLEASE. This is gonna be so fun to do, I can feel it! And then the angst, the pining! Ahhh! Anon, bless you. I hope I’ve done well!

Freddy

He wasn’t the one to usually pine for anyone, the only thing he craved, the thing he wanted was their soul. That was it, that’s how it always went. But something was off, something about them just sparked the need and want that he NEVER felt for anyone on this level. It was ridiculous and he wanted to cast the thoughts from his head immediately, but it kept gnawing at the back of his mind no matter what he did.

At first, he stalked them like he did any normal victim, but with every visit, she noticed the shift in their dreams, how it went from demonic and terrifying to a seemingly more intimate setting. She wasn’t exactly upset by the change, but when she started seeing him more and more, it was unnerving and it made her feel real danger when she was asleep.

Freddy would try so desperately to convince her that she was special, that she was something that was never supposed to happen, but she doesn’ like where this is going. She HATES it. She just wants to dream normally and live her life when she’s awake, but he tries so hard to not let her go. This is his realm and will do everything in his power to keep her here with him. 

When she begins to fight it and try to escape, his twisted sense of reality doesn’t seem to register at first, he tries to show her just how wonderful it can be to be here in the dream realm with him. Why would you be so stupid as to reject that? It’s bliss. He would try to show her over and over again, to prove that he was worth seeing a different side to. If she didn’t agree, what would he do, exactly? 

Marking her up would be such a delicious joy, showing her that he was displaying his loyalty to her, showing her what NO ONE else had ever earned before from him, not even when he was bound to a mortal body. He wanted to hurt her in the best way possible to show her how being with him would be better than ecstasy, better than living in her usual dull, mundane world. He would show her what living could be.  

That urge to feel the hot blood run from her by his blades would flash in his mind as she would look up at him in complete and utter fear, the fact that she was denying him, a pathetic human fool who knew nothing of the things she could have gotten. To hell with her, she would end up just like any other victim he had in his realm. It was either bow to him or die by his hand. ‘Make your choice, princess.’ 

Inkubus

Who wouldn’t want him to sweep them off their feet and make them feel so good all the time? It would be impossible to resist his charm, especially with all of the magic he was able to hold, to use to influence anyone and everyone he desired. But she was the one special case that he had never expected to come upon. He spotted her taking a walk alone, the sway of her hips and the look in her eyes, he would have her, he would pass on his festering seed to live another life for 100 years within her. He needed to have her. 

What a surprise though, she wanted nothing to do with him. His magic, his aura, his charms, they all failed him. How would one like her be able to disregard his magic and just swat him away as if he were another typical pest? Pathetic, he needed to try harder. She continuously shot him down no matter what he did or how hard he tried, but he refused to believe she couldn’t stand him, so he decided to follow her and send her little gifts here and there. It was easy to find where she lived.

He would creep in the shadows of her place, whether it was when she was alone or when she had guests, but no matter who was there, they’d all think they were going insane. Seeing shadows from the corner of their eyes wasn’t normal, but they’d all ignore it until one day she snaps and loses her cool, crying out for him not to hurt her. She would beg for her life as he would reveal himself to her, hoping that she’d just see him and something would light up in her eyes and realize just how wrong she had been to reject his advances.

When he realizes that she tries to go for a weapon to protect herself with, he realizes the truth of it all; he cannot reach her and she would never accept him willingly. When it hits him, he’s appalled by the fact she wants nothing more than to get him out of her life, readily standing there with a kitchen knife as she cowers in the corner. He would have given her the world, why can’t she see that? Inkubus only saw red after that.

Why won't she see it? He would look down upon her with mercy, something that hadn't been done in so many centuries for the demon that it was completely foreign to him as it was said upon his tongue. His blade would reveal itself with a slick sound, his face no longer holding the affection it once did for her, and she knew that she had made a mistake. He watched and listened as she begged for her life, pleading with him to give her another chance, but he saw right through her desperate lies.

When he looked at her and saw the potential, he was almost disappointed that it would go to waste so easily. She was special, he thought as his hands weaved through her hair, yanking her up to meet his gaze so he could stare her in the face as his expression remained blank. “We could have been so much,” he would say as he sliced her throat open and watched the blood come streaming down her front. At least he would be able to bathe in this for later. 

Mayor Buckman

Lord in Heaven knows this man should not be cahootin’ with living people and falling head over heels for one, but there he was, completely smitten with her. She was going to be another side dish for the main course for this year's Jubilee, just like it had always been each year prior, but even his boys had noticed the change in him. Granny Boone had been so wrapped up in preparing for the feast that she hadn't even noticed her own husband's distance, that is until she noticed her. 

She was so pure and full of life that she had seemed more than willing to stay for the barbecue, the little detour had proven to be more exciting than she had anticipated, so she offered to even help around the town if they allowed it. Buckman was taken by that kind of offer, especially from a Yankee, it was unheard of and it wouldn't sway his mind. But the more he learned about her, the more she had spoken about her life, the mayor was strangely drawn to her like she was the one. 

It was a ridiculous idea since she was alive and very much younger than he, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was some sort of fever he had been suffering, anything that would easily explain the feelings he had been having. What he didn't expect was to come to the conclusion that he would fancy her. No one could know about this, but he wasn't making it very discreet the next morning. He would walk up to her, that large grin plastered to his face as he'd explain there was so much to do here in Pleasant Valley, all the things she could occupy her time with. She would thank him but feel rather uneasy by how touchy he'd get with his hand always placed on her shoulder.

The day after, he would have to tell her how he was feeling or else he'd lose her entirely to either her leaving or her being served up on a silver platter for his townsfolk. When he had caught her alone, away from her friends, he stuttered like a madman and felt so odd, it was a wonder he was able to speak at all. During this entire confession, the young woman stood there in uncomfortable silence and shifted slightly, already planning to leave as soon as she possibly could to avoid any more of this. When she didn't share Buckman’s views, he grew reserved and upset, curious as to why she would treat him like this, like some common man. He even explained there was something about her that he couldn't stop thinking about. 

She recoiled from his touch and he looked at her in confused disgust. How could he be so blind, she was nothing like him and she would never accept him or his way of life. He pleaded with her, tried to convince her to think otherwise, but the harsh words that followed did not make Buckman too happy. He looked at her in silence and then walked away; he couldn't find the words to tell her just how infuriated he had been. He was going to try and find a way for them to be together, whether she would have been alive or not, but he was willing to make it work. She was ungrateful.

Her time had come as she had been cornered, the rest of her friends dead and already being cooked for the Jubilee, where she had been on the ground, shaking like mad. She wanted her life to be spared, she wouldn't tell a soul about what transpired, she promised. Those promises always came up empty. Buckman looked down on the poor soul, annoyed at himself for once feeling pity for that wretched girl, but now he felt his power return once again as he stood over her, his trusty sword in his hand. It would have to be him to take her life, he wouldn't want it any other way. 

Doctor Andover

He had no time for trivial things such as infatuations and crushes on others, it would interfere with his work and it wouldn’t be a great idea to get anyone involved in his...complicated personal life. But when she walked through the door of the clinic, Andover didn’t expect much from the consultation, until she spoke to him. She was something else, that was for sure, and the phobia that brought her into the clinic was more than curable for Andover. He would have to lie though, to prolong her stay and keep her here with him, naturally, he would have to lie to his assistant’s as well for the benefit of keeping her around.

When she comes in to speak to the good doctor for several one on one meetings about her phobia, she eases into conversation with him and even feels she can trust him with what she’s suffered through. He feels the same, he feels so connected to her now that he felt as if no one else beyond this room existed but the both of them. How he imagined what she would feel like against his hands, how she would sound as they shared a moment together in secrecy. Andover craved it now, he wanted nothing but her. Soon after she had been placed in the Fear Chamber, he would watch her as she slowly drifted off into unconsciousness and he would be sure to have the room locked so he could just enjoy her presence in peace.

When her fears had been slowly getting in check, she would thank him and talk about leaving his facility. He wanted nothing more than to be with her for as long as possible while he helped her, aided her in getting better. She would only accept his help since she saw him as a professional, he would guide her to being better, feeling better. What she didn’t anticipate was that one day, he offered to pay for her room and board outside of the facility if it were to make her comfortable. It didn’t.

When she insisted that she didn’t need that, that she was leaving indefinitely, he only fought harder to keep her there, to stay near him. She was the one keeping him going with all of this insanity around him, especially when something greater was happening that he wasn’t fully aware of. Today was the day her treatment ended and she was packing her things when Doctor Andover appeared in the doorway. “You must come with me, I have one last thing for you for your therapy.” He led her to the room with the Fear Chamber, but she was so taken back when he pushed her inside, gassing her to sleep with a deadly amount.

She cried out to be released, she just wanted to go back home, but Andover was already committed to keeping her there for himself. He had made a deal with whatever creature fed from the patients’ fear, that he would get to keep her there with him in exchange for the others. He blindly and willingly accepted it. It was foolish but it was a deal he couldn’t go back on. Before she lost consciousness, she begged him to see reason, but now there had been no going back for Andover. 

After it had been done and she fell asleep, her hand slowly sliding down the front of the glass as she drifted, her fears came back twice as strong as her new fear developed into her subconscious, and it took the shape of Andover himself. Even in her slow and agonizing death, he would always be there for her, whether it was to torment her through her afterlife or just show up as some twisted guardian. He watched over her for weeks until he could no longer keep the body, but he would have her in her mind forever.   

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 4) John Deacon x Reader Series

Series Summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Strong language. Feelings of anxiety.

Chapter Notes: This one was a doozy! Don’t start your very first fic with only a vague idea of where it’s going, friends! Quick reminder that this is a slow ass burn. Gonna take us a bit to get there but want to point out there will be no infidelity. Also fun fact: my grandfather actually did work at Elaine’s and the Mick Jagger story is true.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

Songs Mentioned:

Hallelujah, I Love Her So - Ray Charles

Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) - Billy Joel - [I know it wasn’t released till the 90s but I couldn’t shake it]

Taglist: @yourlocalmusicalprostitute​ @brianmays-hair @deacyblues @squishy-geckboye @hae-bee @aprilaady

- - - - - - -

July 1982 - Freeport, Long Island

“I’ll be right back,” you sigh to no one in particular, pushing yourself off of the faded paisley couch in the basement of Steve’s parent’s house and making your way upstairs for a glass of water. The dull pounding in your head had only gotten worse from repeatedly staring at the green shag carpeting leftover from the prior decade. Navigating the layout of the familiar house with ease, you make your way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Bunny! Wonderful, I was just about to bring down some iced tea,” calls out Steve’s mother upon seeing you.

“Thanks, Mrs. Castellano. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, you know me. It was too quiet when you were all away.” The Limbs had recently gotten back from a small European tour--the album having spread beyond England; to Scotland, France, Germany, and Belgium. “I can’t help myself when I get all of you back under my roof. Speaking of… how’s it going down there?” she presses.

You keep your deadpan expression glued to your face as you lock eyes with the kind woman.

She grimaces, “I had a feeling. You better bring this back yourself then,” she hands you the pitcher.

“Will do. Thanks again, Mrs. C,” you tell her as you start to trudge your body back towards the basement. You let out a deep sigh before yanking the door open and descending into the pit of your own personal hell.

Lawrence���s voice booms from below, “I said simple! A simple four to the floor, and that’s it.”

The rest of The Limbs were right as you left them. Eddie and Rich lounge on the couch that is pushed up against the wood-paneled walls, their guitars strewn casually over their legs as they watch the ongoing argument. Lawrence paces around the room, his hands seemingly glued to his head as he pulls on his hair, and Steve sits behind his drum kit that’s tucked away in the corner. Padded blankets hang from the ceiling around him - a sorry excuse for soundproofing.

“Oh c’mon, I’m just adding some flavor to it! I’ll be as boring, sorry simple, as you want when we actually record it,” Steven replies, twirling a drumstick in his right hand.

Rich lets out a sigh as he clocks you making your way back. “Bun, any help here?”

You softly place the pitcher on a table off to the side before turning to the group, leaning back on your hands. “I just don’t get why we need to debut something new if it’s obviously not ready,” you say carefully.

“Of course you’d say that,” Lawrence grumbled, gesturing in your general direction. “Do you not want to sing it? Because you all told me you thought it was good!”

“It’s not that, and you know it, it’s just-”

“It just needs some work before Sunday, so let’s run the rhythm section again,” Eddie cuts in impatiently from his perch on the back of the couch. He untangles his spidery limbs and makes his way over to where you’re camped out.

“Okay, I’ll explain it again,” Lawrence huffs.

“We don’t need this stress two days before we play,” you tell Eddie softly.

“It’s a hometown show, Y/N,” he looks at you pointedly. “These folks helped get us to where we are. It’ll be nice to give them something new.”

The label had secured The Limbs a night at the Jones Beach Theater, the largest outdoor venue on the island. People from all over traveled to watch such acts as Jimmy Buffet, James Taylor, and Aerosmith, the height of entertainment for the suburban droves. And now they’ll be camping out for the first hometown Limbs show since they’d been signed. It was a huge deal, and you knew it, but you didn’t need something unfamiliar to throw off your already wavering shadow of a presence on stage.

Rich begins to pluck out the new bass line, carefully watching Lawrence’s reaction as he plays. On the pick-up, Steve again adds a light flourish as he joins in.

“Steve! For god’s sake! What did I just say?!”

“Live a little, will ya, Lawrence!” Steven shouts back.

The door to the basement wrenches open, and you all freeze. Mr. Castellano’s footsteps are heavy as he stomps down the stairs, somehow staring all of you down at once.

“Kids. If you’d be so kind as to keep it down a tad. I already have to watch the Yankees hand their asses over to the Blue Jays up there. I would at least like to hear it.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Steve mumbles.

“Thank you.” He starts to make his way back up the stairs but halts, turning to you once again. “Oh, also, someone from your label called before,” he adds on casually.

Steven jumps up from his stool, “What?! Dad!”

“What?! Steven!” he mimics. “I’m not your secretary.”

“Can you just tell us what they said?” Steve scoffs at his father.

“Something about being invited to a show at The Garden tonight. Some band. It’s… Dang it. I wrote it down somewhere,” he mutters, making his way back up the stairs.

“I wonder who it is,” Rich thinks aloud, glancing around to all of you.

Eddie notices as your body immediately stiffens beside him.

“Bun?” he asks slowly. “Do you know who’s playing Madison Square Garden tonight?”

Your eyes find the green carpet once again. Of course you knew who was playing tonight. Queen was beginning their two-night stay at the venue. Dawn wanted to get tickets, but you had argued that it was getting harder for you to go unrecognized in public. That, and the fact you had come to the realization you could only act like a complete fool around any of the band members. You weren’t keen on adding another entry to the list.

“It’s Queen!” Mr. Castellano calls from upstairs. “Starts at 8. You kids should get going if you’re gonna make it.”

“Queen’s playing?” Lawrence marvels. “How did we miss that?”

Rich rises, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe all the incessant practicing you’ve been holding us hostage for?” 

“She knew,” Eddie smirks, pointing at you with his thumb. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve never gotten the chance to see them live before!” Steve questions, already rocking back on his heels with excitement. He had become quite the Queen fan since your run-in with Freddie after sticking to him like glue that entire night.

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, “I thought we had more important things to focus on.”

“No, that’s not it,” Eddie deduces, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re just embarrassed that you went all jellied around Mr. Mercury the last time.”

“You’re the one who had to go and tell him all about me fawning over them on MTV!”

“Ooor, maybe it’s because the entirety of the UK saw you making eyes at their bassist on that game show,” Lawrence elaborates.

“There were no eyes being made at anyone,” you grit out defensively, knowing full well that their words were ringing true.

“I, for one, am happy you have a crush, Bun. You know it’s been a while since…” Rich trails off, leaving out the name of a dreaded ex none of you speak of.

You push yourself off your perch on the table with a huff. “You know what? We’ll go. Let’s go. That way, I can disprove all your wildly inaccurate assumptions,” you retort, wanting to get the heat off you fast.

Steven chuckles, “Oh no, she’s broken out her dictionary, folks. Looks like we’ve hit a nerve.” He pokes your side playfully.

“Shut up, please,” you tell them, making your way over to the stairs. “We have a train to catch.”

- - - - - - -

You’re late.

The muffled bass from the arena hits your ears as the Limbs dash up the steps leading from Penn Station to MSG. You all but sprint to catch up with the boy’s long gaits as they approach the box office window.

“Hiya, there’s supposed to be some tickets at will-call for us from the band,” Eddie explains to a woman behind the glass as he tries to catch his breath.

“Name?” 

“Uh… Lo & The Limbs?”

“Don’t have anything under that name. Could it be something else?”

“Can you try just The Limbs?” he guesses, turning back to the group with wide, panicked eyes.

“Nope, sorry,” she answers in a monotone.

“How about The Legs,” you offer up from your spot behind Rich’s tall figure. She just shakes her head.

“Well, fuck,” Lawrence sighs, slapping his palms against his legs, obviously ticked off from the 45-minute train ride you’d all barely caught because Steve had changed his shirt a minimum of three times before you could all head out.

“What about Bunny?” Steve asks with a giggle.

The woman raises her eyebrows before checking the list yet again.

“Ah, there you are. Bunny and friends,” she concludes with a sigh.

A chorus of chuckles erupts from the boys. You point your finger at Eddie.

“I’m coming for ya. Eds. You’re not gonna know where or when, but I’ll get you back for this one day,” you tell him playfully. 

“Oh yeah, and when you kill me, you can be free to go off and start your solo group, Bunny and Friends.”

She hands you all large laminate passes and gestures for you to follow a security guard. They deposit you in one of the skyboxes on the 10th floor. The Limbs tentatively enter, glancing around at the mishmash of people gathered. Extra crew, friends of the band, some execs, you guess to yourself. The boys immediately descend on the small bar set up in the back of the room.

“Here, I assume you need one of these,” Lawrence shoves a beer in your shaking hands. 

“You assume right, good sir.”

“How the hell did we lose Steve already?” Eddie gripes. Rich easily spots him over the tops of heads surrounding them, pointing to a tall figure pushing his way towards the front of the box that opens up into seating. You all follow, mummering polite excuse me’s and thank you’s as you try to keep up. You can hear Play The Game get louder as you approach the view. 

Steve rushes to the first row of seats, leaning over the railing of the balcony. “God, will you look at all these people?” he marvels, watching as the dancing lights illuminate the mass below him.

But you’re not looking at the crowd. Your gaze immediately finds the stage, where Freddie is situated behind a piano off to the left. His voice booms as if he were standing right next to you, and you’re positive that even without a mic, it would be heard by all 20,000 individuals. His eyes are closed as he slams hard on the piano, seemingly in his own world, yet the entire crowd is wholly entranced.

Brian then casually lopes to center for his solo. He smiles out at the crowd as his fingers dance across the frets gracefully while Eddie screams in appreciation throughout. He then jogs back to his mic, nearly missing his cue for his backing vocals, but his fingers never rest. Roger’s gravely falsetto catches your ear, and you train your eyes on the multitasking drummer. Even up behind his kit, his presence takes center stage while he keeps perfect time. The group ends the song in perfect synchronicity as the lights cut to black.

The chords for Somebody To Love start with a few majestic trills from Freddie’s voice, but your attention is once again grabbed away. Towards the back of the stage, still cast in darkness, you see John. He quickly shrugs off a fitted leather jacket to reveal an even tighter full cerulean blue ensemble before a roadie slips the strap of his bass over his head. He strolls into the light just as Freddie finishes his improv, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet as they begin the song.

While he keeps his gaze mostly pointed to the ground, his body already thrums with anticipation. As it really gets going, you watch as he comes to life. You can’t help but hang onto his every movement; the unintentional jerks of his head, the light two-step of his feet as he shuffles along to his bass line's groove. He seems entirely at the will of the song and loving every minute of it. A pang of jealousy hits your chest as you wonder if you’d ever feel that free on stage.

Not much conversation passes between you and the boys as you watch on, more than a bit awestruck. You’re not sure how many songs pass, but fresh beers repeatedly appear in your hands every so often. The lights are dizzyingly bright as your eyes skip around the stage, trying to absorb as much as you can. You find they consistently flick back to John, sucking in every minutia of his performance. Your chest tightens like it did the day of Pop Quiz. Every time he had caught your eye, you remember having to push down the inescapable thoughts you were having. You would tell yourself you don’t know what it is about him, but you’d be lying. 

A voice jolts you out of your stupor. “You must be Fred’s young friends he met in New Haven.”

The group turns to find a small man situated in the row behind them wearing an impeccably tailored suit.

“Jim Beach, manager for the band,” he holds out a hand for each of you to shake. “Sorry for the last-minute invitation. Fred was simply beside himself when he remembered you’re all from New York. So glad you could make it.”

“This is incredible, thanks so much for having us,” Rich tells the man sincerely as his gaze keeps being drawn back to the stage.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourselves. We’ve always been big fans of playing here.”

“It’s quite the spectacle,” you muse. “I've never seen The Garden this decked out before. I mean, those lighting rigs alone must cost…” you trail off.

“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Jim replies with a quirk of his lips. “If you’d all like to follow me downstairs, they’ll be finishing up soon, and I’m sure Fred would love to thank you for coming.”

Steve leaps from his plastic seat, “Yes, please!”

- - - - - - -

The green room is unlike any you’ve ever seen—rust-colored persian rugs litter the floor, the grey slate underneath barely peeking through. Tapestries and various paintings line the walls, somehow giving the usually sterile space a homey feel. Multiple buffet tables filled with every accoutrement imaginable are tucked away in a back corner.

The room is scarce of people for the most part. Crew members filter in and out, grabbing waters, some puffing on cigarettes as they wipe down their sweaty foreheads. A select few have migrated down from the skybox as well.

Lawrence plops down on one of the many leather couches, taking in the room. “So this is what it’s like when you make it?”

“Seems a little excessive even for a band of their stature,” murmurs Rich as if reading your mind.

The deafening roar of the crowd is heard from above, and Queen closes out their encore. The crew members who are now needed for the post set break-down hurry from the room as it gets quiet. You all sit there in near silence for a few moments until a light cheer erupts as Freddie, Brian, and Roger all enter the room, swaddled in thick robes and towels around their necks. They're breathing heavy, still radiating the energy from their set, knowing full well that it was a fantastic show.

“Thank you, darling,” Freddie says as someone hands him a bottle of cold water, glancing around at the people who are still giving the band a wide berth. He spots the group of you huddled out of the way. “Oh!” he exclaims with a clap of his hands, making his way over, “You made it!”

He kisses you all on the cheeks, leaving a ghost of sweat on your faces. “My gangly young saplings! It’s lovely to see you.” He locks eyes with you, a wicked grin on his face. “And you most of all, my little cottontail.”

“You were fantastic Freddie, thank you so much for thinking of us, really,” you tell him genuinely.

“And who have we got here?” a towering Brian May appears behind Freddie.

“Oh yes, may I present to you, Lo & The Limbs!” Freddie says, spreading his arms wide. So he does remember the name; you laugh to yourself.

Eddie pushes further into the group to immediately extend his hand. “You slayed tonight, man. I mean, really slayed.”

Brian returns the shake with a surprised laugh. “Why, thank you. I’ve heard your album, and I have to say, you all… slay as well.”

“Oy, you!” A disheveled looking Roger Taylor makes his way over to the group, people parting like the red sea before him. He marches straight up to you, his finger inches from your nose. “I lost quite a lot of quid, thanks to you.”

You shrink back a bit. “I’m sorry?”

“It would be like John to bring in a ringer at the last second. And after we’d already threw down our bets.” You glance at Freddie with a confused look still on your face.

“What a lovely way to welcome our new friends,” Brian throws an arm over Roger’s shoulder before turning to you. “We may have made a slight wager on John’s most recent Pop Quiz appearance.”

“Slight?” Freddie smirks. “My new Gucci loafers would disagree, darling.”

Roger lets out an incoherent grumble. “Well, he usually fucks it up, doesn’t he? That is until you snuck in there.”

“I’m… sorry?” you offer, failing to find a witty remark for the situation.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, “I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me. I’ve been looking for someone to help me bury the bodies, or do my taxes, or be on call if I perhaps fancied a shag in the middle of the night?” he raises his brows in an overtly teasing manner.

You let out a sharp snort. “Fancy a shag? God, that sounds so much better than “ya wanna go fuck?”

Roger chuckles heartily, “Alright, alright. It was touch and go there for a bit, but I’ve come ‘round. I like this one. She can stay.”

“Y’know, we made a bet of sorts as well,” Lawrence reveals with a mischievous grin. The men all look to him, intrigued. “How long Y/N could keep her cool around that bassist of yours. She failed miserably, and now we shall reap the benefits by teasing her mercilessly until the end of time.”

You swear your mouth couldn’t have dropped open faster. Really need to work on that poker face, you tell yourself.

“Someone was trying to be cool around Deacy? Are you sure you’ve met the man?” Brian laughs.

Staring blankly around, all you know is you need to get out of this situation fast. “I need to pee,” you announce loudly. Really, Y/N? “Excuse me.”

Quickly ducking out of the room before anyone can say anything, you lean your back up against the wall in the hallway as you collect your swimming thoughts. What was it about this band that made you get all dumbstruck? Truth be told, you weren’t usually a timid person. Sure, everyone had bouts of social anxiety now and again, but you navigated social interactions seamlessly for the most part. It had always been easy for you to make friends or crack a quick comeback at a joke. Teasing was a form of endearment where you came from. But ever since you’d entered this new world, it was as if you were a stranger in your body. Who happened to be almost mute apparently. You push yourself off the wall to find a bathroom, your mind still fully occupied by your inner ramblings.

“Points!” a roadie shouts at you, trying to get your attention as they push a cart of cumbersome looking sound equipment right into your path. Before you have time to react, two hands grip your waist and pull you back to your previous position against the wall. 

Once again, you are face to face with a familiar chest. You watch as a light chuckle rumbles through it.

“I know it’s cheesy to say, but we have to stop meeting like this. Or do you make it a point to always bumble about in narrow hallways?” John pulls his hands back to his side as you meet his attractive colored eyes, amusement flickering in them. 

“John. Hi,” is all you manage.

“Good to see you again, Y/N. Freddie mentioned you all might be stopping by. Glad you could make it.”

You try and will your new persona not to take hold, but all you can do is smile meekly at him. He regards you patiently, cocking his head to the side slightly.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes, very much,” you rush out quickly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that before. The Garden’s not an easy place to play.”

“Thank you. You’re kind," he smiles bashfully. "The crowds in New York are some of my favorites. I wish we got the chance to spend more time here, but it seems we’re always passing through.”

“Am I interrupting?” Freddie asks with raised eyebrows from the doorway, a grin on his face.

John makes his way over to him. “Not at all. Just heroically saving Y/N from a near-death run-in with Ratty.”

“Sounds about right,” Freddie muses. “Now, if we’re all safe and sound, I’d like to get out of here. I’m positively starving.”

“Where to?” John asks.

“I want to go someplace real New Yorkers go,” he looks to you expectantly.

“Bun-bun?” you hear from inside before Steve pokes his head around Fred.

“Is your grandpa working tonight?”

- - - - - - -

Even John knew of Elaine’s. He’d hadn’t heard about it because the notable food, but rather the wide variety of clientele it boasted. Writers, directors, actors, and musicians alike frequently filled the establishment for the ambiance and lively conversation. Freddie would love it.

The large group enters through the wood door under a large awning, immediately hit by a wall of sound. The small place is packed to the brim. Raucous laughter can be heard from most tables as the patrons sardine together, shouting over one another. It had a certain charm, he guessed, taking in the decor of signed book covers and hand-painted murals.

“Bambina!” A small italian-looking maitre d' steps from behind the counter and spreads his arms wide as he engulfs Y/N into a hug. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by tonight.”

“Sorry, Papa. It was last minute. Just in time for the 10:30 rush by the looks of it.”

An infectiously warm smile spreads across his face. “Do you see me complaining? You hardly visit anymore now that you’re running around the world with that guitar. I’m so proud of you,” he adds softly, kissing her forehead. “Look at these boys!” he greets the rest of The Limbs like family, clapping each man on the back with love. “Am I shrinking already, or are all you still growing?”

“Probably a little of both, Dom,” Eddie laughs with the old man.

“And there’s even more, I see,” he inquires, finally noticing Queen.

It was unusual for them not to be the center of attention in any given situation, all of them hanging back except for Freddie, who marches right up to the man and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Freddie Mercury, a dear friend of your Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

He looks to Y/N suspiciously. “Are they musicians? You know what happened that one time. I had to pry Elaine off of beating that tiny Mickey guy. I’m telling ya, it was ugly.”

“Not Mickey- Mick, Papa. How many times do I have to tell you?” Y/N shushes him, looking a bit embarrassed.

Dom waves his hand at her, “Whoever he is, that kid owes me his life. I expect these ones to behave.”

Roger snorts from the back, “Not very likely.”

“We promise,” Freddie swears. “And might I say, I love the suit. Very dashing,” he adds on for good measure.

“Well, how else do you think I got this job?” Dom smiles at him with a wink. “C’mon,” he gestures for all to follow as he leads them through the narrow restaurant, to a long table in the back. “Enjoy, boys,” he tells them as he heads back to his post up front, kissing Y/N on the cheek before leaving.

“Come sit next to me, my love,” Freddie calls to Y/N, patting the seat beside him. “If any of your other family members are as outrageous as that man, I want to hear all about them.”

The group moves to squish in around the table. Roger silently catches John’s eye and motions to the seat next to Y/N. He quirks his brows at him, confused, but makes his way to sit between them.

Eddie has taken his rightful place next to Brian with Rich in tow, the three already in deep conversation about the current music scene. Lawrence and Roger sit opposite each other, tearing into the bread basket and chatting about the show. Next to Freddie, Steve is eagerly hanging onto every word he says as he chats to Y/N about her upbringing.

“I’m just hoping one day we get to do something like that, man. Our show on Sunday should be a pretty big deal, though,” Lawrence tells Roger.

“Where are you playing? CBGB? The Palladium?” 

“Nah, we’re playing out on the island. Jones Beach.”

“Huh, Long Island. We’ve never been to Long Island before,” Roger ponders, intrigued. “What’s there to do on Long Island?”

“Well, do you like bowling? Strip malls?” Lawrence pauses for effect. “Bowling at strip malls?”

John lightly chuckles. An arm brushes his shoulder, and he moves back slightly as a large woman weaves her hands around Y/N’s shoulders.

“My little Y/N has come back to us! And surrounded by even more devilishly handsome men than usual.”

Y/N turns around in her seat to give the woman a proper hug. “Elaine! It’s been too long.”

“Let me get a good look at you,” she gestures for Y/N to spin as she regards her. “If you need help beating em’ off of ya, I have my bat behind the counter.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, teasingly, “Don’t I know it. I have a vivid childhood memory of you chasing Ron Galella around the dining room with that thing.”

She lets out a larger than life laugh at the memory, patting the young girl on the back. “Oh, those were the good years. So, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?”

“Elaine! I’m hurt you don’t remember our beautiful time together,” Eddie teases her from the table's end.

“Shut it, Eddie,” she reprimands him with a point of her stubby finger.

Y/N turns to the group, spreading her arms wide. “Guys, this is Elaine Kaufman, of Eliane’s, obviously. Elaine, this is Queen.”

She attempts a half-hearted curtsey. “Your majesties. Welcome.”

Before long, Elaine has pulled up a chair as she cracks dirty jokes back and forth with Freddie, which has the rest of the group (and some nearby diners) howling in laughter. Y/N’s now-familiar cackle sends tingles through John’s body once again. She’s more relaxed than he’s previously seen her be. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, showcasing her broad smile as she looks on fondly, hands waving about whenever she joins in the conversation. Her face is mostly free of makeup and he catches the hint of a dimple on one of her cheeks as she glances over at him to share in a joke.

Freddie gasps as he catches someone entering the front door. “Is that Shirley MacLaine? Slap my ass and call me Sally, that woman does not age.”

“Come with me,” Elaine says, rising from her chair. “I think she’ll like you.”

Food appears without any of them having to order, along with bottles of wine Elaine insisted they’d love. John tentatively takes a bite of one of the dishes set before him.

“Oh god,” he blurts out upon tasting.

Y/N snickers beside him. “Bad, right? I recommend the tortellini if you want something remotely edible.” She pushes a plate towards him, snagging some for herself.

He gulps down water, trying to rid himself of the bland taste. “I would ask why this place is packed, but it seems I’ve already met her.”

“And you would be right. She’s a riot, but I fully blame her for my vulgar vocabulary,” she reveals, taking a giant bite of pasta.

“You and Freddie seem to have that in common.”

Y/N chews slowly as she muses over that sentiment. “That seems to be the only thing we have in common,” she says softly. He cocks his head at her in question.

“It’s just,” she starts, a somber look replacing her previously buoyant one. “Watching him on stage tonight. All of you actually. You seem so free, so comfortable up there. And Freddie is just magnetic, you know that. It’s as if he makes the crowd fall in love with him again and again with every song. I could never do that…”

“I find that quite hard to believe,” he mumbles, continuing on quickly. “Freddie’s a performer. Everything he does up there is for that crowd. Whereas I’m just a musician, I think. It probably helps that I don’t sing. It'll just take some time to find your footing. You don’t have to be both. You don't have to be either for that matter.”

She scoffs lightly, pushing the food around on her plate. “Don’t I? Ever since this all began, I feel like I’m some paper doll or something. People just dress me up and mold me into what they want. And I go right along with it because I don’t even recognize this version of myself if I’m being honest. So I just keep that mask on until I get back home and I can finally breathe. Because then, at least I don’t have to stare at a stranger in the mirror anymore.” 

She breaks out of the daze she fell into while rambling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t unload on you like this,” she catches herself. “I guess I just had a very different assumption of what my life would look like... I think I'm afraid of losing who I am in all this."

John takes her in, catching glimpses of his former self in her cracks. He itches to soothe her distress. “I can understand,” he tells her sympathetically. “Hell, I thought I was joining a band to play with on the side at uni and look at us now. Sometimes I still feel like I’m leading a double life. I tried to convince myself all this was just a job at first, but I’m sure you’re finding out quickly that’s not always true.”

Y/N looks at him intently, and it’s the first time he truly sees the depth of her eyes. He clears his throat before continuing.

“I've come to learn that the concept of home is a funny thing. For a long time, I held onto the idea of it that I always had for myself, but it’s harder than it looks with what we do,” he sighs, running a hand through his short curls, not wanting to dwell too long on his unpleasent situation back in England. 

“But home can be anything really. It can be people,” he says, glancing at his bandmates. “Or even the stage, which sometimes I think is Freddie’s. Or you can be Roger, and make yourself at home wherever you go.”

They glance over at Rog, who is in the middle of an animated story, waving his glass of wine around as it drips on the tablecloth.

“So all you can do is find whatever that home is and hold onto it the best you can. And it might change, but that doesn't mean you have to," he nudges her shoulder with his.

Y/N smiles down at her lap. “Thank you,” she tells him quietly, still swimming in her own thoughts.

“Of course,” he assures, pausing to breathe- not used to giving long-winded explanations. Nervous that he’s pushed too far, he glances over, catching as her shoulders relax.

The restaurant was mostly cleared out by now, save for a few regulars sitting at the tall wood bar. The staff chats casually amongst themselves as they clean off empty tables for the night. Steve is giving Freddie details of the New York club scene, probably hoping to earn himself an invitation one day. Elaine’s regaling Brian, Eddie, and Rich with a story about two writers and a feud of accused plagiarism. Lawrence and Roger were currently attempting to turn their napkins into amusing hats for each other. John finds himself enjoying the young band's presence, their chaotic energy seeming to match Queen’s dynamic quite well.

The group collectively jumps as the music drastically raises in volume, the intro of Ray Charles’ ‘Hallelujah, I Love Her So’ pouring out.

“Oh god, no,” Y/N groans next to him as the waiters all turn their attention to her. Dom appears beside her with an outstretched hand. “Papa, not now, please.”

“Indulge your grandfather, Y/N,” he winks at her as she reluctantly takes his hand, pulling her to the middle of the room. John’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as the old man springs to life, twirling his granddaughter around the room with ease. The pure spryness of someone that age was genuinely shocking.

“Oh, this is fabulous!” Freddie laughs as he leans his chin forward on his hands.

And it was. The staff cheers, hinting that this was a familiar routine for them. The rest of The Limbs sing along with the track, watching the two affectionately like old family.

Y/N’s apprehensive look fades away as she gives in to the fun, pure joy flashing across her features as she glides along, following her grandfather in the swing dance rather gracefully. She looks free, John thinks to himself, drinking in the true version of the young woman. She was dazzling as her hair fell messily from her ponytail and her laugh was louder than ever as Dom dips her low to the floor, her body bending with him. If this was home, he could see why she was reluctant to leave it behind.

He’s mesmerized by her every movement. She was still an enigma to him, each detail he pulled from her, just making him hungry for more. 

You shouldn’t. You’re still married. Well, technically. Papers aren’t signed yet.

“Alright, I’m convinced,” Roger shouts at Lawrence. “Looks like we'll have to stop in Long Island.”

- - - - - - -

“Fuck, it’s cold,” Brian announces, burrowing further into his white windbreaker.

The Jones Beach Theater was tucked right up to the shoreline, causing the spray of the Atlantic to chill the air despite the summer heat. John had never seen a venue like it. It’s as if the vast sea acted as an extended backdrop to the stage, reflecting the stars and inky drape of the night.

The crowd didn’t seem to mind at all. They had been brilliant the entire night, singing along to every one of the songs and dancing in full force. It was perfectly clear how proud they were of their hometown heroes.

The Limbs themselves were a sight to behold from the wings of the stage. The energy from the packed seats had bled over, and all 5 members were indeed feeling it. They had been in perfect sync with each other the entire show, and John was certainly amused by their own way of interacting with their audience. It mostly consisted of them hurling humorous insults back and forth to each other in between songs.

Even Y/N seemed to be enjoying herself, despite her confession the other night. She had taken Freddie’s note that he’d given after seeing her dance and was now stepping out from behind the mic stand for her songs. She slinked around the stage effortlessly, interacting with the other members and the crowd, much to their glee.

“Before we say goodnight to you all, we’d like to leave you with a little something,” Rich calls out over the deafening cheers. “A lullaby of sorts from one of our favorites.”

Y/N drags a stool out to the center of the stage as Lawrence begins a somber melody on the keyboard. The audiences erupts in cheers and John recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

She takes a seat behind the mic as she gazes out over the crowd. The exhilarated face she had been sporting all night was gone, a shade of melancholy in its place now.

Goodnight, my angel, time to close your eyes

And save these questions for another day

I think I know what you’ve been asking me

I think you know what I’ve been trying to say

Her hypnotic voice pierces through the now-silent crowd. The type of voice you immediately feel in your chest, as if it’s personally strumming your heartstrings. No one dares to sing along, afraid they'll miss a moment of her inflection.

I promised I would never leave you

Then you should always know

Wherever you may go, no matter where you are

I never will be far away

The familiar sight of lighters being illuminated flickers through the sea of people before them, casting a hazy glow on the previously faceless patrons. Their peaceful stares fixed on Y/N, entranced as if she was siren of sorts.

Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream

And dream how wonderful your life will be

Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby

Then in your heart, there will always be a part of me

Her voice breaks a bit, giving away the glassiness of her eyes. They’re not fixed on the crowd, but instead on the sky beyond them. John watches the panes of her face intently. She wasn’t singing to them, he realizes. This was to herself. Possibly to that image in her mind, she had confided in him, the one she was struggling to leave behind—her piece of home.

Someday we’ll all be gone

But lullabies go on and on

“She’s going to be something else, isn’t she?” Freddie asks, mostly to himself.

They never die

That’s how you and I will be

John watches as a single tear slips off the slope of her nose as she finishes, bowing her head.

“Yeah, I think she is.”

[lupinlongbottom]

Burning Bridges pt. 3

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Finally settling into her new role, (Y/N) has found her calling. Teaching is easier, now that she has a friend at her side. As taxing and stressful teaching can be, maybe some tea and a good chat can calm her mind. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Some swearing, slight bit talk about sex if you squint

A/N: AH! I love these two. They’re burning. Slowly, in my brain. Enjoy the pain!

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 4 ... Part 5 ... Part 6 ... Part 7

__

It had been two months. Two months of teaching at the most prestigious wizarding school in the world. Many would argue that Ilvermorny could rival it, but many of those wizards were blind Americans, unknowing to the true superiority of the other school. Either case, to say that (Y/N) was swamped and stressed beyond her wildest dreams was an understatement.

“Can anyone tell me how many uses dragon blood has?” (Y/N) asked to her audience, doe-eyed first years. A hand shot up. “Mr. Butler.”

“Twelve,” the scrawny Slytherin retorted, looking pleased with himself.

“That’s right,” she smiled, crossing over to the blackboard. “Now, Mr. Butler, could you tell me each and every one of the magical properties it possesses? Giving it the twelve uses?”

The Slytherin sat silently, mouth slightly agape. “My mum only told me she used it to clean our oven…” he trailed, almost unsure of himself.

“Exactly! That’s one use, good job Mr. Butler,” (Y/N) scribbled in tight words ‘oven cleaner’ onto the black board. “Could anyone else help him out?” Another hand shot up, one of a Ravenclaw girl. “Yes, Ms. Hoyt?”

“I’m sorry, Professor (L/N), but are you expecting us to know all of the uses?”

(Y/N) smiled widely. “No,” Loud murmurs erupted from the classroom, confused at their professor’s response. “I don’t expect any of you to know more than one or two uses. You’re first years, barely begun reading your textbooks or learned anything about potions, so,” (Y/N) spun the blackboard around. “You should know I hate assigning papers, but I want you all to write me an essay on the twelve uses,” she pressed her wand to each bullet point. “Who discovered them, when we’re to use it and how to use it correctly,” more groans. “Be thankful you’re not in my seventh year N.E.W.Ts class right now, they’d take this assignment over the behemoth I gave them earlier today.”

“By next class?” a Hufflepuff girl inquired.

“No, two classes time,” (Y/N) said, smiling lightly. “I want you to take your time. I can imagine you have bigger fish to fry in your other classes, no?” the room grew silent. “Or perhaps not. Either case, take your time. Really comprehend the assignment, it’ll be in your best interest to do so,” the bell chimed. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Murmurs of ‘thank you Professor (L/N)’ fluttered around the room, filling (Y/N)’s heart with pride. She began to clear her workspace, preparing for her third year class she had next. A Slytherin boy had stayed behind. “You’re going to be late to your next class, Mr. Butler,” she said, not turning around. 

“It’s just Herbology,” he shrugged. “Professor Longbottom won’t mind.”

“I highly doubt that,” (Y/N) turned around, crossing her arms. “That man cares more about his plants than you could ever comprehend.”

“Tell me about it! I can’t stand it,” he huffed, slowly packing his knapsack up. “I wish I could just take potions all day, not have to worry about plants biting me.”

“Herbology is an important class to learn,” (Y/N) said, continuing to write on the blackboard, with her wand of course. She wasn’t a buffoon. “Many skills and information you learn in that class is pertinent to potion-making. What better way to learn about your ingredients than caring for the plant itself?”

“Did you like Herbology when you were a student, professor?”

“I enjoyed my professor,” said (Y/N) truthfully, thinking of Sprout. “I don’t have the patience, or green thumb, for it,” she laughed, recalling her various dead plants over the years. “Regardless, it’s important for you to learn.”

“That’s the same sap Professor Longbottom told me,” the Slytherin groaned. “Told me that it could be beneficial to potions class and whatnot. He says stuff like that all the time, connects it to potions. He said you’d agree.”

“He’s right,” (Y/N) clicked. Of course he said that. “I do,” she began scribbling on a small square of parchment. “Give this to Professor Longbottom, seeing as you’re going to be late, he might appreciate to know why.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, grabbing the note, finally exiting the classroom.

(Y/N) allowed herself to sigh loudly. “Never a rest for the wicked, huh?” she mumbled to herself, finally finishing her preparations for her next class. Her mind trailed, recalling her student’s words. “He can’t possibly talk me up that much, can he?” She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the third years finally filed  in, settling in their seats. “Right, welcome class. As you’re sitting down, please open your textbooks to chapter seventeen…”

__

“(Y/N)!” Neville shouted down the corridor, hoping to catch her attention. She turned around. “There you are,” he smiled, catching up to her. “Been looking all over for you.”

“Could’ve checked the dungeons,” (Y/N) jested. “I never seem to leave my lair.”

“Tell me about it,” Neville groaned, stretching his arms. “Been barely out of the greenhouses. I reckon I have dirt in places a person shouldn’t ever have dirt.”

“You should bathe more, then,” (Y/N) laughed, noticing the streak of dirt that danced across the bridge of his nose. “Or at least wash your face,” she signaled to the mess on his face, a finger tracing the space on her own.

Neville felt the heat rise to his cheeks, quickly rubbing his nose with the end of his sweater. “Thanks,” he mumbled, hopefully removing all of the mess. They arrived at their chambers, their own doors respectively. “Hey,” he hesitated. “Did you want to some tea? Gran sent me some herbal tea from her last trip,” he wrung his wrist slightly. “I know you like herbal.”

“I do,” (Y/N) answered honestly. “Like herbal, I mean. It’s my favorite. What kind?” 

“Not sure, I think it has roses?”

“Bring it over,” (Y/N) nodded to her door, opening it. “I have some extra biscuits from my mum. Would make a good pairing, I think.”

“Oh, you want me to come over? I was just offering—”

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” (Y/N) felt the heat rush to her ears, burning against her ears. “I didn’t realize that you were—”

“No, it’s fine! I can come over!” Neville practically shouted. “I mean,” he coughed, trying to cover his exclaims. “If you want me to come over.”

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’re friends, right?”

Neville felt a grin pull to his ears. “Yeah, we’re friends.”

(Y/N) entered her chambers, immediately realizing what a mess she had left her living space. Scrolls and books littered the table, ink pots were left open with abandoned quills, a cauldron was burbling in the corner. “I suppose it’s not as bad as it could be,” she hummed, moving to start a kettle. Edgar was preening himself on the kitchen perch, allowing his excess feathers to fall to the ground. “Honestly Eddie, preen in the Owlery,” (Y/N) sighed, bending over to pick up the feathers.

“…turns out it’s a rose and saffron blend,” Neville laughed, entering her chambers. “Gran got really fancy,” another laugh. “(Y/N)?” (Y/N) yelped, hitting her head on the countertops, rising far too quickly. “Are you okay!?” Neville rushed over to the small kitchenette, noting the witch withering on the floor, hand held to her forehead.

“Been better,” She groaned, answering honestly. “Doesn’t hurt more than a knock-back jinx,” she laughed, recalling the various times the spell was used against her.

“Is that…?” Neville glanced at the barn owl, offering his hand to assist (Y/N).

“Edgar?” (Y/N) took his hand, pulling herself up. “Yeah. He’s grown a bit more distinguished since the last time you saw him I bet, but he’s still the little clumsy Eddie you remember.”

“He was hardly clumsy,” Neville crooned, reaching a hand out hesitantly to Edgar’s face. The owl leaned to the touch. “No more than me.”

(Y/N) laughed, taking the fistful of feathers and set them in a box, closing it gently. “I keep his feathers when I can,” (Y/N) mumbled, feeling Neville’s gaze on her actions. “They make fine quills, sometimes need them for potions… or maybe I’m just a sentimental mother,” she laughed. “Probably the latter.”

“It’s sweet,” Neville beamed. “You’ve always been the sentimental type.” 

“It’s true,” (Y/N) replied honestly. “I’m as close to a hoarder as they come. It takes every ounce of restraint to not keep all the letters my mum sends me. I keep a few, only to laugh,” (Y/N) removed the screaming kettle from the stove. “She’s dating a muggle, you know.”

“Your pure-blooded mother? Dating a muggle?” Neville’s eyes felt as if they were as large as saucers.

“Shocked me too,” (Y/N) shrugged, pouring the hot water into light pink cups. Neville handed her the tin, allowing her to infuse the leaves properly. “She said it was a good change of pace,” (Y/N) allowed the cups to sit, the wine-red color seeping into the hot water. “He makes her happy, so who am I to judge?” 

“Would you ever date a muggle?” Neville asked, absentmindedly. “You know, being pure-blood and all…”

“I would,” (Y/N) hummed, thinking about it lightly, leaning on her counter. “I don’t care much about blood status, unlike…” she shook her head. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me. I guess I would appreciate it if he was a wizard. At least it’d be easier to explain my profession,” she shrugged, glancing at her bubbling cauldron. Felix Felicis. Been working on it since moving into the castle. “What about you? You’re a pure-blood too.”

“Never thought about it,” Neville admitted. “Don’t really think much about that stuff. Never have, really.”

“Come off it,” (Y/N) poked Neville in his side. “You’re telling me you’ve never thought about dating a muggle?”

“Honest!” he laughed, moving away from her touch. “Ever since Luna and I broke it off, I put all my energy into the plants."

(Y/N) felt her face fall, just for a moment. The tea was done steeping. She handed Neville a cup, walking over to her deep purple couch. “You and Luna?” 

“Yeah,” Neville rubbed his neck, sitting on the adjacent chair. “We didn’t last much past the one year mark.” 

“You two seemed great together,” she lied, allowing herself to take a sip. The warmth flooded her senses, the taste lingering on her tongue. “You guys were inseparable seventh year,” another sip.

“I wouldn’t say inseparable,” he remarked. “Just had a crush. War does crazy things to people’s perspectives. Really thought we’d work out.” 

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Neville assured, taking a sip of the tea. He scowled a bit, never really liking rose tea. “It was mutual. We were both young and confused. Didn’t really know what we wanted…” He sighed. “Sorry, I try not to think about it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” (Y/N) replied, waving her wand, a tin of biscuits landing on the table. “I know we agreed to catch up on our lives, but if it’s a sore subject, we don’t have to...”

“A lot can happen in five years,” he shrugged. “Good and bad I reckon.”

“I dated Seamus,” (Y/N) smiled into her cup, changing the subject. “Only for a month or two. Still can’t decide if it was good or bad.”

“Get out!” he exclaimed, hopping onto his hands, rising high in the chair. “You and Finnigan?”

“That could hardly be a surprise,” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Considering we snogged a fair bit in the Room of Requirement seventh year.”

“I guess,” he admitted, recalling catching the two practically sucking their faces off the other. “How was it? Dating Finnigan?”

“Slobbery,” she recalled. “We barely ever just sat down to talk. We usually just…” her face grew three shades darker. “Well, didn’t talk,” she coughed, noticing the redness in Neville’s face as well. “Like you said, we didn’t know what we wanted. Or needed, I guess.”

“Was he good? In bed?” Neville boldly asked, somewhat unashamed.

“Look at Longbottom, asking the naughty questions,” (Y/N) smirked, teasing the dark haired man further. “I don’t have anything else to compare it to. It was fine,” another shrug. “I mean, I guess it wasn’t sometimes. Would have to polish myself off rather often after if you catch my drift.”

“I do,” Neville sputtered. “Well, not like that. I’ve never had a problem with… that,” he set his cup down. “On my end though, I guess I never asked Luna if she… oh no. What if she—” 

“Neville, you’re going to hurt yourself, just breathe,” she laughed. “I’m sure you were more than satisfactory in bed,” Neville took a deep breath. “Look at us, chatting about our sexual escapades like real adults.”

“Who would’ve thought?” Neville chuckled.

“Not me, that’s for sure,” (Y/N) smiled, enjoying the gentle company. “I’m glad we’re friends again.”

“Me too,” he smiled back, closing his eyes for a moment. “A bit different than before.”

“No kidding,” she took a bite of the tan biscuit. Sweet. “Instead of essays and exams to prepare for, we’re the ones writing the exams and stressing about lesson plans.”

“A bit over our heads, I reckon,” he laughed. “From what I can tell, the students like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Hear a lot from the first year class, especially Noah Butler. I think he has a crush on you.”

“Stop it,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes. “He’s just really into potions. I was that student at one point, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Neville clicked. “But you never said Snape ever had ‘beautifully wonderful hair’ or ‘nice eyes’, did you?“

“Merlin’s beard. My student fancies me! He’s eleven!” (Y/N) roared, amused at the thought. “If anyone were to fancy me, he wouldn’t be at the top of the list.”

“Who would be? Professor Knight?” Neville slanted his eyes, cocking an eyebrow. (Y/N) was silent. “So it’s true. You two’ve been spending loads of time together, no?”

“Lance and I are just friends—”

“But you want to be more than that right?”

“It’s not wise to date a co-worker,” (Y/N) said, trying to convince Neville. Maybe herself. “He’s smart enough, sure. But…”

“Ask him out,” Neville said, shoving another biscuit in his mouth. “He’s not going to say no. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Looks at me? Lance?”

“Practically undresses you with his eyes,” he laughed. “You two would be good together. You said so yourself, you’d date a muggle. He’s muggle-born, best of both worlds, right?”

“I suppose…” (Y/N) exhaled, thinking it over. “I just can’t believe Neville Longbottom is giving me dating advice.”

“I can be useful sometimes,” he smirked, finishing his cup of tea. “Say, is your bathroom connected to your room too?”

“Yeah, door next to the bed if you need it,” she pointed a thumb at her bedroom door. “Feel free.”

The Gryffindor excused himself, allowing himself to enter her bedroom. (Y/N) had decorated lightly, ivy dangling from nearly every corner of the room, just like her classroom. Moving photos dotted the walls, some of their friends, some of what Neville guessed was her family. Her room was orderly, less so than the living area in the room prior, work and private life separate it seemed. Her dresser, dark oak, had trinkets from her past littering the surface.

“Sentimental indeed,” Neville chuckled, noting the old Honeydukes box. He had gifted her that on her 15th birthday, it was filled with chocolate fudge. Not terribly magical, but she loved it none the less. His eyes glanced at the pile next to the box. “She kept a jumper from school?” He lifted the jumper. “Always loved wearing…” his eyes noted the stitching under the tag. His stitching. “Jumpers.”

“Find it okay?” (Y/N) called from the other room, slightly worried about her friend.

Neville shook his head, rapidly folding back up the cardigan. “Yeah, of course. I’m not that thick,” he called back. Quickly using the bathroom, he made one last check to make sure nothing seemed out of place.

“Had me worried for a minute,” (Y/N) mused, already on her second cup of tea.

“Got distracted by that photo of you, Harry and Ginny,” he lied. “When’d you take that?”

“At their engagement party. Gin practically begged me to take it,” she hummed. “But I’ve grown rather fond of that one. Ginny just looked so happy.”

“When do you think they’re planning to have the ceremony?”

“Ginny said something along the lines of February or March,” (Y/N) recalled, memories filtering through the various letters they had sent back and forth. “I wouldn’t be surprised to get an invite soon.”

“Me either,” Neville guessed. “Well, it’s getting late, got exams to grade and whatnot…”

“By all means, don’t let me keep you,” (Y/N) forced herself to finish her cup, standing up. “The company was nice while it lasted.”

“Yeah,” Neville retorted, practically scrabbling for the door. “Have a goodnight!” Just like that, he was gone.

“Odd,” said (Y/N), putting her china in the sink. “Guess he was always a bit odd, right Edgar?” The owl cooed, not paying attention.

__

It took exactly three glasses of firewhisky for Neville to calm down. He hated turning to alcohol, but he felt like there was no other choice.

“Why’d she keep the cardigan?” he mumbled, playing with his fingers. “I knew she never gave it back, but after all this time?” He shook his head, trying to read the answers on the exam in front of him. “It just doesn’t make sense!” Neville slammed a fist onto the table, rattling it. “Trevor, give me some advice.” He turned to his oldest friend, a bumpy toad sitting in a cage across from the table.

The toad croaked, eyes glossed over.

“I dunno,” Neville mumbled. “After today, the way she was talking about Seamus… Professor Knight…”

Trevor croaked again. 

“Shut it!” Neville exclaimed, accidentally pouring his inkwell onto the parchment below. “Shit,” he quickly recited a spell, cleaning the ink off the paper. All of the ink, including his student’s answers. “Great.” He seethed, reluctantly giving the student full marks. What else was he to do?

“I thought I was over it,” Neville shook his head again, almost reaching for the bottle of booze sitting far too close to him. “Thought I could ignore it forever. Blimey, Trevor! We’re just becoming mates again and all I can think about is—is—damnit!”

-

The ruin around the grounds was massive. Boulders that used to be ceilings, bodies that used to be students, all littered around him. Neville’s head was reeling. Voldemort was gone for good. Dead. Never had the Gryffindor’s head pounded the way it was. Was it adrenaline? The fear finally leaving his body?

“Neville!” 

He turned around, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of her. A cut was dripping across her forehead, flowing onto her pink cheeks. Her hair was down, her pink ribbon lost in the wreck. “(Y/N),” he mumbled, practically falling over the rubble to meet her halfway. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around the girl, pulling her in tight.

“I’m so glad you’re alive!” (Y/N) sobbed into his blood-stained jumper, hugging him tighter. “I got caught up… my mum’s here. I-I don’t know why, she wouldn’t tell me,” she shook her head. “But I can talk to her later. They’re saying you killed a snake? Helped defeat Voldemort?” 

“I guess, yeah,” he responded sheepishly, eyes darting between hers. As he was about to open his mouth to continue, he couldn’t. A somewhat wet pair of lips was stopping him. (Y/N)’s lips. They were soft, supple, in comparison to his cracked and bleeding ones. Without thinking, he ran a hand up to her hair, feeling the locks tangle around his fingers, deepening the kiss.

She pulled away, expecting Neville to say something, anything. He looked down at her, confused, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“(Y/N),” he pleaded, begging her to not let go.

“No, I don’t know what came over me. You and Luna…”

“What?” his eyebrows drew together harder, almost touching. “(Y/N) I don’t—”

“Forget it,” she released herself from his grip. “I—I have to go find my mum.” (Y/N) ran away, mumbling something else Neville didn’t quite catch. He stood still, body paralyzed to the one spot, hardly noticing the streak of pink that rested by his boot. 

-

He decided that the exams could wait until morning, the third year class not meeting again until the day after next. He needed sleep like he needed to breathe, mull over his thoughts. Falling flat on his face amongst his covers, Neville tried to fall asleep, ignoring the scent of her bleeding from his clothes.

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @steve-thotgers

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

[obvious-captain-rogers]

For Evan Buckley Week: Day Five! I saw comfort in the prompt and immediately thought of the Buckley parents and Buck’s relationship with them vs. the Firefam so enjoy Buck’s childhood trauma

Prompt: “You’re a good liar” + comfort

               Buck’s morning started out pretty nicely. He’d woken up, gone through his morning routine, and headed off to work with enough time to be able to stop by the new café that had popped up not too far from the station. He and Hen had been talking about stopping in there sometime, but Buck wasn’t exactly known for his immediate alertness after waking up- when he was on a long shift at work being an exception to that rule. He’d decided to just go ahead and grab coffee for everyone, knowing their usual coffee orders and preferences by heart already.

           So he had a spring to his step when he walked into the station with the coffee carrier balanced in one hand and his duffle bag in the other. He changed into his uniform quickly and was whistling as he hopped up the last few stairs into the loft.

           “Someone’s awfully chipper this morning,” Chimney said from where he was glaring daggers at how slowly their coffee maker was spitting out coffee.

           “I don’t know, I’ve just got a good feeling about today,” Buck said with a shrug before setting down the coffee carrier. “They’re all marked. I picked them up for everyone on the way in,” Buck said and snagged his and Eddie’s cups from the carrier before taking a step back.

           “Have I told you that I love you?” Chimney asked and Buck let out a bright laugh as Chimney and Hen came over to grab their own cups.

           “Not recently, no,” Buck said and grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. “Should I be telling my sister that you’ve decided to try your luck with the other Buckley?”

           Chim snorted as he lifted his drink out of the carrier. “In your dreams, Buckaroo,” Chimney teased before taking a sip.

           “Every night,” Buck teased back with a cheeky wink that had Chimney and Hen laughing despite the previous early-morning funk that had been settled over them.

           “This from the new place?” Hen asked as she just held onto the paper cup with a content smile.

           “Yeah,” Buck said and moved to sit at the table so he could stretch out his leg. He settled Eddie’s cup in the open spot next to him and took another drink of his coffee. “Thought since I had some time I could swing by and pick up something.” Buck frowned as he looked around. “Bobby not in yet?”

           “He’s in his office,” Hen said with a nod towards that direction. Buck nodded and he stood, leaving his and Eddie’s coffees on the table, before grabbing Bobby’s and heading into his office.

           Bobby was on the phone- his office phone- when Buck came in, so Buck just settled the coffee onto the desk with a small smile. Bobby gave him a short nod and smile in response before he had to turn back to the conversation on the other end of the line.

           Buck walked out and he grinned to see Eddie was up in the loft now, sitting beside the chair Buck had been in just a minute before, as he chatted with Hen. Buck made his way over and sat back down, nudging Eddie’s cup closer silently. Eddie grinned, glancing at Buck for a moment, before keeping up with the thread of his and Hen’s conversation.

           Bobby had come out of his office and was about to start breakfast when the bell rang with a call. They all hopped up and made their way down to the truck, ready to start their day.

…..

           Buck was washing the soot from his face and trying in vain to get the ash out of his hair when his cellphone started buzzing in his pocket. He dried his hands quickly and tugged it from his pocket, frowning when a number he only vaguely recognized lit up his screen. He thumbed the accept button and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”

           “Evan.” Buck nearly dropped his phone into the sink at hearing his mother’s voice. He felt like his blood had frozen in his veins. The casualness to his mother’s tone made Buck’s skin crawl. She was acting like they talked every day instead of the huge gaps that could span nearly a year. “I was calling on behalf of your father.” Buck felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t make himself speak. But it didn’t matter because his mother’s voice bulldozed along. “He’s been sick, son. He wants to see you and Madeliene.”

           “I can’t just pick up and go to Hershey. I have a job,” Buck said and scrubbed a hand over his face.

           “And what if he’s dying?” His mother asked sharply and Buck flinched despite knowing that there was no way that a blow could come across the phone. “You wouldn’t come see your dying father, Evan?”

           “That’s not what I said,” Buck protested weakly. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head.

           “You should come home and see him,” Buck’s mother said firmly before abruptly hanging up the phone. Buck took a shaky breath as he listened to the dull tone at the other end of the line. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

           “Whoa, sorry, Buck. Bobby sent me to come get you so he could show you how to cook something other than eggs,” Chim said and held up his hands. He glanced over Buck’s face as Buck hastily shoved his phone into his pocket. “Everything okay?”

           Buck let out a laugh that was just a little flat and put on a huge smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He bumped his shoulder against Chimney’s like he normally would. “I should go help Bobby, wouldn’t want my cooking skills to get rusty.” He stuck his tongue out playfully at Chimney despite the way his stomach was roiling.

           “It’s pretty hard to fuck up eggs,” Chimney laughed and gave him a brotherly shove. “Go on, then. Just don’t burn anything, alright? I’m pretty hungry.”

           “Got it,” Buck said before heading upstairs to the loft so he could help Bobby out. He forced himself to act normal despite the block of ice that had settled in his stomach, slowly leaking out so that all he felt was cold and vaguely numb.

           He was right in the middle of listening to Eddie telling a story about Christopher’s science class, when his phone rang again. He hesitantly pulled it out of his pocket but was relieved to see Maddie’s name. “Sorry, it’s Maddie,” Buck said to Bobby before stepping away from the kitchen and heading outside to take the call. “Hey,” Buck said once he’d accepted the call and was standing behind the station, his back pressed against the rough brick.

           “Did she call you?” Maddie asked, her voice a little worried.

           “Yeah,” Buck breathed out and closed his eyes. “She did.”

           “I’m so sorry, Buck,” Maddie said and Buck shook his head.

           “It’s not your fault.” Buck sighed. “So what do you want to do?” He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. There was a long silence between them.

           “I don’t know,” Maddie whispered. They both sat on the line for a little bit, not really talking. “You’re on a shift, I should let you go. We can… maybe we can talk it over tonight?”

           “It’s movie night tonight,” Buck said, not willing to let his parents disrupt the one thing that brought him more happiness than anything else: the Diaz boys. “But tomorrow.”

           “Alright.” Maddie told him goodbye and he echoed it back a little hollowly before hanging up and letting his head fall back with a thud.

           He took a few more moments to compose himself before he put on his normal friendly smile and bounded back up to the loft to finish helping Bobby.

…..

           Chimney scowled over at Buck as Buck was prying open the door of an SUV in their third car crash of the day. They’d been at back-to-back calls since right after actually getting to eat lunch and they were all starting to feel the strain of it.

           “I thought you said you had a good feeling about today,” Chimney murmured as he stepped in to check the vitals of the driver.

           “It’s not an exact science, Chim,” Buck said as he hefted up the jaws and moved to go over to the other car where Eddie was shoving all his weight onto the crowbar to little effect. He pushed away the tinny version of his mother’s voice on the phone, he didn’t have time to think about any of that. “Need a hand?” Buck asked and Eddie huffed out a laugh before Buck passed the jaws off to him and went to go and help Chim and Hen get the patient from the SUV and onto the waiting gurney.

           “Cap’s already radioed for another ambulance, but we’ve gotta go,” Hen said and patted Buck’s shoulder once they’d loaded up their patient and Buck had closed the doors.

           “Sure thing,” Buck nodded and he jogged over to where Eddie had extracted the other driver. Eddie was going over his injuries and doing what he could with his limited supplies, but something about the picture made Buck freeze up. A man dying. A man that vaguely- if you squinted a little- resembled his father. Eddie’s head jerked up and he pointed at the car.

           “There’s a kid in the back seat,” Eddie said firmly, and Buck jerked into action and walked over to see the little girl still in her booster seat but surrounded by glass and twisted metal. Buck was surprised that she wasn’t more hurt, but she looked absolutely petrified.

           “Hey,” Buck said after he’d managed to wiggle his way through the blown-out window so he could get a good look how to get her out. “My name is Buck, what’s your name?” Buck asked gently as he twisted to see if he could get to the seatbelt.

           “Leah,” she said with tears streaking down her cheeks and making her voice tremble.

           “I’m going to get you out of here, alright?” Buck made sure to keep his voice even and calm as he tried to pull the seatbelt from the latch. He frowned a little when he was sure she couldn’t see his face and then put a smile as he ducked into her line of sight. “I need to run out and grab some shears to cut you out of here, can you be brave for just one more minute?” She looked unsure as she curled her fingers into the arm of his turnout jacket. “You’ve already been so brave, Leah. I promise you I’m coming right back.”

           “Okay,” she said and her voice wavered as she slowly eased her grip on Buck’s coat.

           Buck crawled out through the same window he’d come in and ran to the truck to get the things he needed. “What’s the situation?” Bobby asked, joining Buck on his jog back to the car.

           “Young girl trapped in her booster seat. I got in through the window, but I’m not sure she can come out that way. There’s too many broken edges of glass and metal.” Buck reported.

           Bobby looked over the car and then clapped Buck on the back. “Let’s break out that back windshield and I’ll lay down my jacket so you can hand her off.”

           So once Buck had gotten her cut out of her booster seat, he covered her with his turnout jacket while Bobby broke the window and laid out his own coat. Buck lifted her carefully and together he and Bobby got her out and handed off to the paramedics.

           “Good job,” Bobby said and clapped a hand down on Buck’s shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Buck felt a small flicker of pride at Bobby’s obvious approval. It quickly soured when Eddie joined them without any hint of a smile on his face. “Let’s pack up and get out of the officers’ way,” Bobby said, sensing the obvious shift in atmosphere. The police had shown up to document the crash and talk to the by-standers.

           They did so in total silence and the ride back to the station was stilted until Eddie spoke, “That little girl’s dad is probably gonna be DOA.” His voice was mostly hollow but Buck could hear the undercurrent of anger in it. It made him squirm a little uncomfortably in his seat.

           “I’m sure you did everything you could, Eddie,” Buck said and he wanted to reach out, but he could see the tense set of Eddie’s shoulders and knew his partner wouldn’t appreciate the touch, and Buck wasn’t sure he was completely up to the task of giving comfort.

           “Sometimes, calls just can’t go our way,” Bobby said firmly, though there was a gentleness to the way it was phrased.

           “She couldn’t have been any older than Christopher,” Eddie said with a scowl.

           Buck bit his lip at that, unsure of what else to say. “We can’t take it personally,” Bobby said. “We’ve got to do what we can, when we can, and let the rest go. You did your best and that’s all that anyone can expect from you.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped a little but he didn’t seem any more relaxed than he had been when his shoulders had been up around his ears.

           “Right. Thanks, Cap.”

           Buck repressed a flinch at the clipped tone of Eddie’s voice. He turned his face out the window and tried desperately not to grimace.

…..

           Buck felt like most of the tension from the shift and his unexpected phone call melted away the second he pulled into the driveway of the Diaz household. He’d picked up beers for him and Eddie and popcorn for Christopher. He was smiling as he opened the door to the house and stepped inside.

           “Buck!” Christopher’s shout caught Buck somewhat off-guard and he flinched and nearly dropped the bag in his hands. Christopher didn’t seem to notice as he threw his arms around Buck’s waist and hugged him tightly.

           “Hey, Chris,” Buck said and ruffled Christopher’s hair gently. He handed the stuff in his hand off to Eddie, who frowned a little as he took Buck in, before nudging at Chris’s shoulders playfully. “You going to let me actually get inside, buddy?” Buck asked with a laugh.

           “Oh, yeah,” Christopher said and he dropped his arms from around Buck’s middle and he shuffled backwards to give Buck room to tug off his shoes and close the door behind him. “I picked a really good movie,” Christopher said with a huge grin that was already making Buck feel infinitely better.

           As the night went on, Buck got sucked into the familiar comfort of a movie night sandwiched between Christopher and Eddie. He helped clean up as Eddie flitted between the mess they’d made in the living room and where Christopher was getting ready for bed. Buck was rinsing out the beer bottles while Eddie read Christopher his bedtime story when he found himself zoning out a little. Not necessarily thinking about anything, just drifting.

           “Hey,” Eddie said, breaking Buck out of it, as he leaned his hip against the sink. “It’s pretty late, you wanna just take the guest room?” Eddie offered. Buck cracked a smile and nodded.

           “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m beat.” Buck pushed a damp hand through his hair before rubbing at his temples.

           “Go ahead and get some sleep, I can finish up with these,” Eddie said and bumped their shoulders together.

           “Thanks,” Buck said and he shuffled his way down the familiar path to the guest room. He folded up his jeans and settled them on side table beside the lamp before slipping under the sheets. He thought that after everything that happened today he’d have trouble sleeping, but he must have been more tired than he’d thought because sleep came easily.

…..

           When he woke up it wasn’t in Eddie’s guest room but his childhood bedroom in Hershey. He remembered the blank light blue walls with the navy curtains and cool brown dresser set, none of which he’d had any say in. He shuddered as he sat up and the flat grey sheets pooled around his waist.

           He tossed the sheets aside and went over to the mirror that was hanging on the wall and he sucked in a sharp breath as he took in his reflection. He was younger than he’d been when he’d gone to sleep. He took in the soft curls and lack of any hint of stubble as well as how small he was. He looked like he had when he was sixteen and he felt something inside him tremble in fear.

           There was a polite knock on the door before his mother, the same colored curls as his own framing dark eyes like Maddie’s, poked her head in. “Evan, if you don’t quit lazing around you’re not going to be able to have breakfast before practice.” He glanced at the corner of his dresser where his track uniform and shoes were sitting, just like always.

           “How did I get here?” Buck asked and his voice was shaking.

           “What do you mean?” His mother asked, taking a step into his bedroom, her hand perched on her hip perfectly. “You live here, sweetheart.”

           “No,” Buck shook his head. “I live in L.A. I moved there years ago.” Buck sucked in a harsh breath and blew it out, continuing before he lost the thread. “I’m a firefighter with the 118 under Captain Bobby Nash. I work with Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, and Eddie Diaz.” Buck squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears burning at the corners. “Maddie is with me because she finally left Doug.”

           There was a pause and Buck opened his eyes, praying that he would have woken up, but his mother was still standing there and he was still in his room in Hershey. His mother took a step forward and cradled Buck’s face between her hands. “Oh, honey,” she said softly and stroked his hair back from his face. “You’re such a good liar. But you know we don’t allow that kind of behavior to happen under this roof.” Her perfectly manicured nails dug into Buck’s cheeks.

           With a jolt, Buck woke up in a cold sweat and feeling like he’d been running a marathon, his heart hammering in his chest and not able to catch his breath. He let out a broken sob as he scrambled for the bedside lamp, but before he could get it on, the door was opening and the hall light was filtering into the room.

           Eddie’s guest room.

           Buck could only cry harder from relief, pressing his hands against his face to try and muffle it. He didn’t want to wake Christopher, or scare him if he was already awake from Buck’s nightmare.

           “Buck, hey, what happened?” Eddie asked and Buck could feel him sit down on the edge of the bed.

           “I got out,” Buck said and he knew that he probably sound like he’d lost it, but part of him was crying from fear, but the other part was relief. “I’m in L.A.”

           “You’re in L.A.” Eddie rubbed his back soothingly despite obviously being confused. “It’s okay, Buck. You’re here at my house. You’re safe.” Eddie turned and wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and guided Buck’s head against his shoulder. Eddie shushed him before talking to him gently in Spanish, just like Buck knew he did when Christopher was really upset or scared. “Estás bien. No dejaré que nada te lastime. Estoy aquí.” Buck felt like he should be embarrassed that Eddie, who wasn’t really that much older than him, was treating him like his nine year old son, but the cadence of Eddie’s voice was soothing.

           “What’s going on?” Buck lifted his head from Eddie’s shoulder to see Christopher outlined in the light from the hall.

           “It’s okay,” Eddie said in the same soft tone he’d had since Buck had started crying. “I think Buck just had a bad dream, go back to bed.”

           “I can help,” Christopher said and shuffled over to the side of the bed.

           “Mijo,” Eddie started but Buck just shook his head, sniffing a little.

           “He’s okay,” Buck mumbled and wiped at his face.

           Eddie gave him an unsure look but didn’t argue. When Chris got to the side of the bed, Eddie lifted Christopher into his lap so he and Buck were somewhat level. “I had bad dreams too,” Christopher said and his mouth twisted up a little in the corner. “Daddy said it was okay to talk about them, but that I didn’t have too if it was too scary. Was your bad dream really scary?” Christopher asked as he reached out to play with Buck’s fingers.

           “Yeah,” Buck said quietly, and he gave Christopher’s hand a playful squeeze. “You’re lucky that you have such a smart dad, you know that?”

           “Yeah, he’s pretty great,” Christopher said and his bright smile as he tilted his head back to look at Eddie helped to ease Buck’s nerves. “Do you need a hug? Daddy gives the best hugs when I feel scared.”

           Buck let out a weak laugh and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I bet he does.” Christopher merely hummed and then squirmed out of Eddie’s lap and into Buck’s, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck and pressing his face against Buck’s shoulder. Buck let out a shuddering breath and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep any more tears from slipping down his face. He pressed his face into Christopher’s hair and gave him a light squeeze. “Thanks, Chris,” Buck sniffed as Eddie’s son pulled away.

           “You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Christopher said and used the sleeve of his pajama shirt to brush away the tears on Buck’s face.

           And that was more of a comfort than Buck could articulate.

           “Alright,” Eddie said and lifted Christopher off of Buck’s lap. “You need to get back in bed, buddy.” He gave Christopher’s shoulder a pat and Chris started out of the room. “I’m just gonna make sure he gets back into bed. You’ll be alright for a minute?” Eddie asked, his hand resting on Buck’s knee.

           “Yeah,” Buck nodded and he gave Eddie a watery smile. Eddie watched him with a conflicted expression. “Go on, I’m going to wash my face.” He knew that the salt would leave tacky spots on his skin and he was certain that his nose was going to start dripping soon. He shuffled across the hall to the bathroom and wiped his nose on a wad of toilet paper before running some cold water, pointedly not looking in the mirror as he splashed his face. He dried his skin off, just giving himself a moment to get his breathing back under control, and then made his way back to the guest room.

           After a while, Eddie came in with an extra pillow in his hand. “Christopher said that I needed to sleep in here since I let him sleep in my bedroom after he has a nightmare,” Eddie said with an amused tilt to his mouth. Buck couldn’t help but let out a slightly congested laugh.

           “Well then, we better follow orders,” Buck said and shifted to one side so that Eddie would have some room. Eddie grinned before tossing his pillow down and getting into bed with Buck. They were quiet for a while, the only noise the rustling of the sheets as they tried to settle.

           “You don’t have to,” Eddie started, his voice just barely above a whisper, “but if you wanted to talk about it, I want you to know that I’m here, Buck. I’m always here.”

           “I know,” Buck breathed and closed his eyes against the wash of emotions that threatened to choke him again. “Thank you, Eddie.”

           “Anytime.”

           “I’m not ready to talk about it just yet,” Buck admitted and squirmed a little.

           “Okay,” Eddie said and he didn’t sound disappointed or angry or upset. “Goodnight, Buck.”

           Buck let out a sigh of relief. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Lost letters

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Look at these guys.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Did you get married?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You do not know?’

‘No.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Richie’s brain stutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[har-rison-s]

pretty

request: Can I get a Stan Uris request? Reader is Bill’s older sister, maybe 15 while The Losers are 13, and the boys have a sleepover at the Denbrough house. She’s taking a shower and she forgets her towel so she yells for Bill to fetch her one but Stan is the one to hear her, so he gives her the towel. She notices he’s blushing and asks him what’s wrong, and he’s never seen her in a towel before and he blurts out that she’s pretty and it’s all cute and she’s like “you’re pretty, too, Stan”

A/N: What a cliché title.... Hi. Risky, risky, eheheheheh. Anyways, let's do this. An interesting and realistic, actually, request. At least I think so. I expect this to be a short one, but that's not bad. While this age difference made me squint a little, it's okay. Not if you're older, alright? I do not promote underage/of-age relationships. Happy reading!

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gif credit goes to owner!

Coca Cola cans, chip packets, crackers, water, jelly beans and bears, sour candy, slices of watermelon. Video games, cartoon series, board games, card games, television programs and films. Pyramids of cups, smelly socks, hats, pillows and plates. The perfect combo of a teenage boys' slumber party. 

A perfect weekend for the boys. The Denbrough kids' mother decided to let their kids have fun alone, do whatever they want, for a weekend. She and her husband drove up state to visit her parents. They warned the kids not to burn the house down, and, boy, did Bill's friends try.

Y/N was already used to Bill's friends causing chaos everywhere they went, always being loud and quite annoying, she must admit. Especially trash-mouth Richie. She couldn't stand him. But, like said, she had gotten used to them and their loudness. At least there were only four of them, and they were younger.

“Don't tell me Brooke Shields is home, too.” Richie begs his friend. They've been playing board games for hours, the MTV channel serving as background noise and when they switched channels, they heard music coming from upstairs. The Losers Club immediately looked at Bill.

“Sh-sh-she doesn't mind us being here.” Bill says, innocently.

“But it's weird. She hears everything.” Eddie states. Stanley sighs.

“She has music on, dumbass.” He tells his friend, eyes narrowed.

“Or rather, we can hear everything.” Richie says with a thick essence of mischief in his voice.

“Beep-beep, Rich.” Stan says, sighing along with the other two. 

“Say, Bill, does she have a boyfriend? Maybe he's coming over tonight?” Richie keeps pestering his best friend.

“Shut up, R-R-Richie.” Bill responds, careless to go any further with this stupid conversation. Richie snickers and looks at Eddie, waiting for him to join in laughing, but he doesn't.

“Bill, do you have Monopoly?” Stanley asks and Bill nods.

“In m-my room, up-upstairs.” He tells Stan.

“I'll get it, then.” The boy decides and walks to the living room's door to get to the stairs. 

“We all know what he's gonna do up there. And it ain't gonna be Monopoly.” Richie comments, which earns him a nasty glare from Stanley and a punch to his side from Bill himself. 

“Th-that's my-my sister you're talk-talking about.” Stanley hears Bill say to Richie.

Y/N decided to hop into a shower before she settles for watching a movie in her parents room and then going to bed. It is ten pm on a Friday night already, and she's got her friends coming over tomorrow, so she needs to have a good night's sleep. Even with her brother's never resting friends in the house.

She left the music in her room on while showering, but she also left her clean towel in the downstairs washing room. She realised it only when she was done showering - that there were no towels in her bathroom. Shit. She hopes Bill can hear her, she did hear him coming up the stairs.

“Billy!” She yells as loud as she can. 

Stan almost falls off the stool he uses to get to the top shelf from hearing Bill's sister yelling. Bill has a bad habit of putting board games on the highest shelf in his room. And she definitely has a loud voice. 

“Bill!” She yells again when there's no response. Not more than half a minute later there's a knock on her door. 

“It's Stan, not Bill.” The boy says through the door. “Do you need some help?”

“Oh, hi, Stan. Come in, the door is open and I'm in the shower.” She simply says. Stanley hesitates, but creaks open the door. “I'm in quite a crisis. My towel is in the downstairs bathroom, the blue one in a red basket.”

“Need me to bring it?” He concludes.

“If you'd be so kind.” She says shyly. 

“Right. I'll be right back.” Stan tells her and, after slowly and carefully closing the bathroom door behind him, rushes downstairs for the towel she asked for. She would be freezing soon. 

“What's the matter, Stanley? Saw something you shouldn't have?” Richie teases and Stan only groans, rolling his eyes at Richie. He makes for the bathroom of the first floor, which is right through the kitchen in the Denbrough's house.

Although Bill ignores Richie's snide question, he is curious why Stan jogged down the stairs without the Monopoly and went into the kitchen. It is his sister, after all. But he also knows Stan. Stan's very polite and reserved.

Stan fetches the towel from the red basket and holds it close to him, folding it over his arm. He goes back up the stairs in the same speed he came down them. He finds Y/N's room and bathroom again and knocks on the door, to warn her it's him.

“Please, open the door in as wide a slit as the towel is thick. Catch my drift?” Y/N's voice comes from inside the room.

“Uh-huh.” Stan confirms. He creaks the door open and squeezes the towel through the slit, her hand taking it once it's through. Stan shuts the door and sighs. He tried to keep his eyes semi-closed while giving her the towel, and it's quite self-explanatory why he did.

He walks back to the door of her room, heading for Bill's bedroom again. But Y/N stops him once again from getting to the Monopoly. “Thanks so much, Stanley.” Her sweet voice thanks him and he can tell that she's come out of the bathroom. 

“You're welcome, Y/N.” He responds with his back still to the bathroom door and her. 

She chuckles. “You can turn around, silly.” She encourages him. Stan gives her a chuckle of nervousness and hesitantly turns around to face her. He doesn't like to admit it, but it's some sort of new teenage experience. His cheeks blush immediately upon looking at her in only her towel and wet hair. “What's wrong? Is something on me, my towel?” She fusses quietly.

“No, no, you're very pretty.” He suddenly blurts out, without thinking. Once he realises what he's said, he wants the ground to swallow him right up. Great going! Why did you have to say that from all things, Stanley? Why?!

Now Y/N blushes. And she smiles. She can tell he's gone full panic mode - his eyes are wide and cheeks redder than before. “You're pretty, too, Stan.” She says after all. 

The boy gets even more flustered. He doesn't know what to say back. One thing only comes to mind. Come on, nothing can be worse than you already said. “Do you want to play Monopoly with us?” Stan asks and looks at her again, regaining his posture and the little amount of confidence he carries in himself.

“I'm not sure that your friends would like that.” Y/N admits. Stanley shakes his head. 

“Screw what they like or not. If you want to, come play with us.” He tells her and she chuckles. “If you don't, that's okay, have a good night—”

“No, no, I'll play.” She convinces him otherwise. “Just let me change first.” Y/N states, smiling wide. 

“We'll be—Well you know where we will be.” Stanley says and Y/N laughs. He even smiles at her, breaking out of his flustered state. He leaves her room and again walks into Bill's bedroom to actually get the board game they so much want to play.

Hope you like this!

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[reddieorrnot]

I would love to see 22 and 29 for reddie I think that'd be hilarious if your could

shorter than the others but hopefully still as good! hope you like it :)

Eddie was ready to go bat shit crazy. 

It was a Friday afternoon, and he was sitting in a hot, humid, Eleventh-grade History classroom. The whole day had gone by far too slow with not enough excitement. Of course, it’s school. It’s not supposed to be fun or enticing on a basis further than educational, but still. Eddie had been ready to fall asleep all day, and all he wanted was for the day to end, and for all his friends to had over to the quarry. Then they planned on going over to Mike’s and just hanging out. Eddie had stuck out the day until now, and he planned on staying awake until the bell rang. Even though the next period of History was going to make him want to shoot his brains out. 

Don’t get him wrong, Eddie loved this class and every topic that came with it. It was just so horrifically boring today. The lecture was dragging on forever, and at this point, Eddie didn’t really care who saw how he was nearly drifting off. Unsurprisingly, one person had indeed taken notice. That’s what Eddie realized as a note landed onto his desk. It was small, folded in half. Eddie turned to look in the first place he thought of, Richie Tozier. 

And there the boy was, a foolish grin plastered on his face staring right back at Eddie. They didn’t sit too far apart, Eddie was a seat in front and over from his boyfriend. Note passing was a daily thing between them usually when Richie got so restless that he needed to talk to someone or he’d just blurt out everything that came to mind. After getting in trouble countless amounts of times, Eddie had finally told Richie to just pass him a note whenever he felt like talking. 

Remembering this, Eddie turned back around and quietly unfolded the small piece of paper. 

‘Am I the only one melting in this joint? Feels like it’s a hundred degrees!’ 

Eddie wanted to giggle, but the classroom was too quiet for that. So instead, the note produced a smile while he flipped the piece of paper over and started to write a reply. 

‘It isn’t just you, I feel like I’m dying over here’ 

He folded the note over the other way, and checked to see if Mr. Samson was looking. After finding a moment where their teacher was turned away, Eddie leaned back and placed his note on Richie’s desk. The other boy wasted no time grabbing the note and ripping out another piece of paper from his notebook to write on. 

Just like that, Eddie felt more awake. Richie tend to have that effect on him, after all. 

Soon, Richie’s new note landed on Eddie’s desk. It was larger than the last one, perhaps intended for more uses. 

‘Same Eds, not only from heat but boredom

The nickname made Eddie’s heart flutter, glad Richie couldn’t see the blush that appeared. He pressed his blue pen into the paper, writing out his reply.

‘Then do something Rich’ 

When Eddie got the note back with Richie’s response, he immediately regretted telling Richie to do something about being bored. He opened up the note, and read what Richie had written. 

‘How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?’ 

Eddie gasped at the note, turning around instantly. Richie was leaning back in his chair, curls nearly touching the desk of the student behind him. He had a huge playful smirk, visibly being serious about his idea. 

Eddie scolded his boyfriend, mouthing a very clear, “No.” 

Richie pouted, ripping out another piece of paper. He scribbled something on it, then folded it up. Eddie felt a small sting of jealousy when Richie didn’t pass it to him, but instead to his left. Eddie watched as the note got passed to Beverly Marsh, who was a few aisles down from Eddie’s spot. Eddie saw Beverly open the note, grin, and turn around to Richie. 

She threw up both her hands, showing ten fingers, then mouthing, “Ten dollars.” 

Eddie stared in horror as the amount was said, Richie’s face lighting up. He probably would’ve done it for five cents, knowing him. Not missing a beat, Eddie spun around and abandoned his previous silence.

“Are you insane?” Eddie whispered, as low as he possibly could. The teacher wasn’t a hardass, but wouldn’t be happy with side conversations. 

“No, baby, but I am bored.” Richie shrugged, starting to sit up.

“We all are, Rich!” Eddie hissed, “You don’t see me flippin’ desks, do you?” 

“Because you’re a behaved little cutie, duh.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, understanding that there wasn’t any way he was convincing Richie otherwise. Especially with money on the line, Richie didn’t have to think twice about getting the reward for his stupid actions. Eddie, of course, wouldn’t blame Richie. He nearly never did, he was too in love. 

Eddie looked over at Beverly, who had been watching the whole thing, and mouthed to her: “This is your fault.”

She just chuckled. 

Eddie huffed, accepting what was going to happen. He just looked at Richie, awaiting the scene to unfold. 

Richie waited until the teacher was writing on the board, to quietly stand up out of his seat. He stood there for a second, possibly thinking about what he was about to do. Then looked over at Beverly, who was watching intently. When he had gotten up, Richie had caught the eye of nearly everyone else in the room as well. He grinned at the given audience, then bent down. Richie placed both his hands on the right legs of his table. It was one of those tables that were attached to the chair, the ones that high schools always had. So of course, Richie would be flipping the whole thing. 

He grasped the metal in his clutch, then flipped the whole thing. 

Had the class not erupted in laughter, and the table not made a clanging sound as it fell to the ground, Mr. Samson possibly wouldn’t have noticed what Richie did. Too bad that wasn’t the case though. 

Mr. Samson had whipped around, seeing Richie standing next to an upside-down desk, and students laughing all around him. It was how innocent Richie looked that made Eddie join in on the laughter. 

“Richard Tozier, what the hell were you thinking?” 

Richie gave the teacher an honest shrug, “To be fair, I wasn’t thinking. Just wanted some cash.”

“Well, I hope whatever cash that is was worth detention! Report to the principal's office now, and fix your desk!” 

“Aye, aye, captain!” Of course, Richie had to salute the teacher before flipping the desk back into place. Eddie couldn’t believe Richie, but hey, he knew he was full of surprises. Richie then picked up his backpack, started to walk down the aisle, and stopped at Eddie. He leaned down and gave Eddie a quick peck on the cheek, leaving the smaller boy flustered. “See you at Mike’s, babe.” He whispered before continuing to the front of the class and then out the door. 

Mr. Samson let out a deep sigh, and then looked at Eddie. “Learn to control him, Kaspbrak.” 

If Eddie hadn’t been embarrassed before, he definitely was now. Sinking into his seat, he didn’t miss the smirk Beverly shot him.

***

“Wait, so what happened with Richie again?” Ben asked as the group of friends walked over to Mike’s. They had spent a little bit of time at the quarry but were all more excited to head over to the Hanlon home. Eddie, who had been worrying that Richie would get there before them, was glad to finally be leaving the swimming session. When the others had asked why Richie wasn’t with them, Eddie simply stated he had gotten detention. Beverly looked like she wanted to tell the story, but they both knew that Richie was going to arrive wanting to tell everyone himself, so there was no need to. 

“He’s gonna let you all know detail by detail when he shows up, don’t worry,” Beverly answered, throwing her head back in laughter. Eddie didn’t miss the way Ben’s eyes shined as he watched the redhead grin. He wished his boyfriend were here for him to look at like that, but no, he had to flip a fucking table during their History class. Eddie grumbled to himself the whole walk to Mike’s house, the other losers talking amongst themselves, not wanting to bother Eddie. 

When they finally arrived, Beverly offered everyone a cigarette, even though she knew they’d decline. 

“Oh Bev, I’d kill for a smoke, and also, my ten bucks!”

Richie stood in the front doorway, looking like an utter fool with his glasses crooked and stupid smile. Even though Eddie had been convinced he was annoyed at Richie, he wanted to melt into his arms right there and then. Beverly rolled her eyes and fished in her bag, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. She walked over to Richie and placed it in his hand, along with a cigarette. Before going to smoke, Richie told all the losers his story, making everything more dramatic than it actually had been. Eddie didn’t mind though, he liked the way Richie’s face lit up when he went into storytelling mode, the way he used wild hand gestures and tone of voice changed. 

“You’re a whole different breed of dumbass, Richie,” Stan spoke when the story was over. 

Mike simply chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe you just flipped a desk… right in the middle of class!”

“I’ll do anything for that sweet cash, Mikey,” Richie nudged Mike with his elbow, making Bill and Ben laugh.

“Alright guys, let’s see what’s on TV,” Beverley suggested, forgetting about her earlier desire to smoke and picking up the remote. Everyone piled into the living room as the girl flipped through the channels. Richie got up at some point, heading to the kitchen to get a cup of water, he told them. Eddie waited a couple of seconds, then got up to follow him.

Eddie loved Mike’s home. It felt so warm and kind, like he was always welcome. He liked Richie’s house the best, but Mike’s was always a close second. He turned the corner into the kitchen, seeing Richie struggle to grab two juices from the fridge while holding a plastic cup. Eddie smiled at the sight, moving quickly over to help out his clumsy boyfriend. He took one of the drinks from Richie’s grasp and closed the fridge. Eddie then placed it on the counter and leaned back against the wall. 

“Are you planning on mixing those two?” 

“Eds, you know me so well,” Richie planted a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, then returned to his drink. Eddie smiled, then remembered what he had come into the kitchen to do. 

“You know, that thing you did today was really dumb…” He frowned, and Richie noticed this. 

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” 

“No, no. I’m just a little sad that, uh…” 

Richie tilted his head to the side, looking like a confused puppy. Eddie felt his heart burst at the image, wanting nothing more than to be cuddling Richie. 

“Why are you sad?” Richie set down the carton of juice and moved over closer to Eddie, taking his hand and holding it. Eddie’s heart quickened at the contact. He was convinced that no matter how long he dated Richie, he would always find a way to make Eddie feel like a hopelessly in love teenager. 

“I’m a little sad you were in detention, and not at the quarry with me.”

Where his pout once was, Richie now had a smile. He gave Eddie’s hand a light squeeze, “Did someone miss me?”  

Without hesitation, Eddie answered, “You know I always do.”

Hearing that made Richie close the distance between the two with a kiss. A familiar sense of security flowed throughout both of the boys, as Eddie let go of Richie’s hand and moved both of them to his cheeks. 

Once their lips parted, Richie kept his face close, just looking into Eddie’s eyes. 

“I love you,” Eddie whispered, his mouth so close to Richie’s that it was like the words were only theirs to hear, and no one else in the world. “Even if you do flip desks during class and get detention.”

“I love you too,” Richie breathlessly whispered back with a chuckle, then leaning in for another kiss.