#reddie blink date

[watchoutforthefanfics]

achievement unlocked 🔓 (part three) || Streamer AU! Reddie (IT)

Part 1, 2

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: this prompt

Summary: Richie liked to play video games, and by some stroke of luck, it became his job. Being primarily known as Trashmouth on stream, he found his own little group of streamer friends and they became intertwined: The Losers Club. It never did feel quite complete, though. Well, until, he got his very own backseat gamer in chat.

TWs: internet stalking, innuendos, lots of talk of sex (it's Richie), vague mention of one night stands, low self-worth, a little angst, loneliness, imposter syndrome, cursing, and shameless flirting.

[[A/N: Enjoy :))]]

Richie was not delusional. Stupid, yeah. But delusional? If anything, he was oblivious.

If someone was into him, he knew fuck all about it.

That being said, what he was doing now was not delusional. It was stupid. And Richie knew that just to clarify.

He was up too late again, and he'd say he was bored. But he was mostly kind of curious.

Sometimes he stayed up scrolling through his Instagram feed, usually sort of wistfully. He scrolled through a lot of the couples tags, mostly because he hated himself. And then he had a thought, a spare thought.

of course you are fuckface

Right. That happened.

He shouldn't be as affected by it as he is, but he guesses he can't control that. And so maybe he had the thought: are you handsome, Eds?

You know, it feels better when it's from someone fucking hot, right? So, he got curious. And Richie did stupid shit when he got curious.

With unsteady hands he went to his page, a public one (although, if he dug, he was pretty sure he'd find an old one), and simply clicked on his followers. That was the thing about Instagram, you could search through your followers. Which in retrospect, felt a little creepy.

And conveniently, he had his username. Or well, he wasn't so sure of the last name but he remembers the 'ka'. Or maybe that wasn't his last name-

"Beep, beep, Richie," he muttered to himself, before clicking the bar and typing.

'Eddie'

Naturally, there were a lot of Eddies that followed him. He wasn't exactly unpopular on Instagram, although, he was a lot more popular on Twitch.

Social media kind of went hand-in-hand, Richie learned. If somebody followed you on Twitch, they might want to follow you on Instagram, if they follow you on Instagram, they might want to subscribe to you on Youtube-

Focus, Richie, he cleared his mind and started typing again.

'Eddie Ka'

eddie.bellie || ✨️fairy dust✨️ Bell

eddie.kal || Kalee is here

e.kaspbrak || Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie blinked, That one. I recognize that name. Before he could think about it too much, he clicked through to the profile.

Eddie Kaspbrak (he/him)

I like cars 🚘 and know what I'm talking about so you better fucking listen NY 21

Follow back || Message || +👤

Richie's eyes moved ahead of his judgment, as he spotted a photo of him. Or what he could guess to be, it was kind of small but Richie could see it was a guy.

Before he could overthink it, he pressed the post.

His heart halted in his chest.

What the fuck, his brain chanted, he's beautiful what the fuck-

Eddie (or what he assumed to be Eddie) was grinning, the kind that crinkled at his eyes and shriveled up his nose. Richie wondered if he always smiled like that, or if this was special. His eyes slid across the bridge of his nose, spotting fucking freckles of all things, freckles-

He felt a little like he might spontaneously combust. Maybe in a fiery flame.

He thought I was handsome? Him? Holy shit-

Richie paused, flickering through the comments, and eyes landing on one in particular. Two, actually.

mike.me.up✔️: so good to see you happy man ❤️

benny.boy.official✔️: just remember you deserve everything good !!!

What the fuck? He thought to himself, How old is this post?

Checking the date, he recognized it to be about a year ago. In doing so, though, his eyes caught on the caption and he faltered slightly.

"To all those people who said I couldn't do it," he read, carefully, "-fuck you. Look at me now."

Richie bit at his lip, his finger swiped to the next one on the post. It was him again, carefully holding what looked to be a milkshake; if Richie looked closely enough, he thought he might be at a diner. He wasn't smiling as big this time, but more preoccupied with something else -entranced. Richie felt a little like he was floating then. Had he ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life?

Speaking of, when had he ever called someone fucking beautiful? God, he was so fucked.

Before he could stop it, he was scrolling through his entire feed. He'd gotten off mostly without a hitch, just until he was looking at the most recent one.

It was Eddie again, but he was working on a car. Smudges of oil slipped across his face (he really looked like he hated it), and in those cute jumpsuits that mechanics wore, Richie felt a little confused about whether it was hot or cute. He was thinking maybe both.

He's not entirely sure how it happened, but he thinks he thought the newest post might be a carousel. (Where there is more than one picture.) Well, it decidedly was not. And when he tried to flick through them, his phone decided to register it as a double tap.

Richie blinked, once and then twice. Pink heart filling his thoughts while the entirety of his brain flatlined.

"Shit," he suddenly chimed, pushing himself off the bed slightly in panic, "-shit, shit, shit. I just have to-"

He clicked the heart again, and the like promptly disappeared. Richie let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw himself back on the bed. Fucking stupid.

It was probably quick enough Eddie wouldn't even notice it. There's nothing to worry about, yeah. (At least that's what he'll tell himself.)

It was, what, 6 am in New York right now? What self-respecting human being would be up at 6 am-

One message request from e.kaspbrak

Shit.

Richie stared at it for a few seconds.

Maybe like he'd blink and it would go away. He could totally be hallucinating, absolutely. Doesn't lack of sleep do that to you? Or maybe he could just be a dick and not look? There's a lot of message requests that he has, half from bots and half from fans (some weirder than others, let's be honest). He could just say he missed it? Maybe? He didn't owe it to Eddie to respond.

Something was crawling up his throat though, that picture running through his mind. And that message. God, he was just a subscriber, why the fuck was he like this? He'd definitely have to tell this to Steve (his therapist)-

Fluidly, Richie went to his messages. He skimmed some new ones in his primary (mostly friends sending him memes or his mods checking in). And then, with a breath, he clicked on requests.

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

He laughed, mostly because it seemed really in character for what he knew of Eddie. Which, in retrospect, was not much. Enough to apparently make him curious though. Something swirled in him that the man messaging him was the same in the picture -fucking beautiful. Of all ways to describe someone, that's what his brain settled on. God, he really was gay-

Richie debated a few answers for a moment. His mind spiraling, anxiety twisting his stomach so violently that he might throw up. Will probably throw up, actually, he did that a lot when he was nervous-

e.kaspbrak

Aren't you in California?

What are you doing up at 3 am?

Okay, that was not the thing he expected him to comment on first. But, turns out, Eddie was full of surprises.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what are u doing up at 6 am spaghetti

no one wakes up that early

e.kaspbrak

All types of people get up at 6 am dipshit.

You ever heard of a job?

He laughed again and realized he was really fucked up for thinking someone berating him was funny. But then, he got kind of curious. Eddie knew stuff about him. And he kinda... wanted to know things about Eddie. Pathetically.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u have a job eds ??? r u a chef?

bc spaghetti, u get it?

e.kaspbrak

Are you seriously sticking to that one? Fucking spaghetti?

You're a dumbass.

And yeah of course I pay to watch your dumbass, don't I?

He pursed his lips a second, did he not want to tell him? Even still, he waited a second, watching the bubble for a moment.

e.kaspbrak

I'm a barista.

I fucking hate it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe eds in a cute lil apron

i used to work customer service it was hell

And then he paused, thinking. Richie carefully added to the message something more genuine like he was testing the waters. Seeing what he could get away with, without seeming like a creep.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

what do u wanna be ?

if u could choose

There was a pause, and suddenly Richie felt incredibly stupid. What the fuck was he doing? Texting someone in chat? Because they called him handsome? Well, he was funny. So, he probably added that to the motivation too.

He had no idea why he was even here, doing this. It just felt... He felt fucking pulled in, and he got curious. But maybe he really was just being stupid-

e.kaspbrak

A mechanic.

And the apron isn't cute, it's nasty as shit after every shift.

His fingers moved before he could stop them. He really was never good at controlling himself, ever.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

who said it was the apron spaghetti ? 😉

Richie stared at the sent message for too long. Maybe hating himself a little bit more, because he was too much. And he couldn't always reel himself back-

e.kaspbrak

You did dipshit. Do you have the memory of a fucking goldfish?

That would actually explain a lot in your streams.

Richie paused -waiting for the other shoe to drop.

e.kaspbrak

And thanks.

You would make a good Eric. Even if you think you wouldn't, fuckwad.

Okay, he thought to himself -maybe grinning a little, not too much. Something unfurling in his chest that felt put away a long fucking time ago. (Maybe a few years, but that was nearly as dramatic enough for Richie Tozier.)

He smiled, maybe a little cheesily bright but that was between him and his apartment walls.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

thanks eds

and i do

it's called adhd

And then he paused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

and i think you would make a good mechanic

e.kaspbrak

How? You probably don't even know shit about cars.

Do you even remember to change your oil?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u are supposed to change that ?

Richie watched as the bubble started up, almost immediately. It made him laugh a little.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just kidding spaghetti

relax

e.kaspbrak

You're such a shithead.

And don't call me that.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

yeah uh no

that's sticking sorry eds

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you dickweed.

And Richie laughed again. Alone, in his apartment, at 3 am. He laughed at a guy in his Instagram DMs.

God, he was so fucked.

e.kaspbrak

It's almost 4 am in California right now.

You need to go to fucking sleep.

Do you know how much not sleeping fucks you up?

It can literally fuck up your brain function and you can't fucking afford that. Yours barely functions as is.

Richie laughed again, and he was kind of thankful nobody lived with him for once. How was he supposed to explain himself? He had no fucking clue.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

awe spaghetti cares about me 🥺

and my brain 🥺

e.kaspbrak

Fuck you.

Go to sleep.

There was a pause, and he thought for a second he might leave it there.

e.kaspbrak

See you at your stream when you wake up.

Something in him softened, and maybe for once he was excited to sleep. His brain felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He wasn't too much for Eddie. At least for now.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah okay eds

see ya then

And if he slept the best he had in awhile that night, that was only for him to know.

They kept texting for about a week, and just like he said, Eddie was a substantial (he should note) part of his next few streams. Today was his break day though, and he would be lying if he wasn't staring at his phone on the charger. Waiting for it to ding.

Which was a little pathetic, but Richie was okay with it somehow.

And then, it dinged.

Richie almost tripped himself to grab his phone off the charger. And he was glad in that moment that no one was there to see it.

e.kaspbrak

I'm working with my least favorite coworker. I wish I was fucking dead.

I hate her more than I hate you, and that's saying something.

Richie laughed a little, and let himself ruminate. Or maybe he just didn't want to look desperate. It was all kind of the same, anyway.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

u want me to come and tell her she makes shit coffee ?

pull my famous card ???

and what did she do ?

e.kaspbrak

You're such a dick.

Richie hoped he was laughing. Sometimes he thought he might be.

e.kaspbrak

She just won't leave me the fuck alone.

If she puts her hands on my arm one more time, I'm going to bite her head off.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

pretty sure that's called workplace harassment eds

u should go to ur manager

And something in Richie made him type more, even though, he really could have left it there. And he probably should have. But he was fucking curious.

Fuck his brain.

trashmouth.tozier✔️

and just call up ur gf

tell her that u need saving

eds the damsel in distress ✨️🧚‍♀️

He gnawed at his lip, fingers dancing along his sheet. He almost threw his phone back onto his chest, or maybe against the wall-

e.kaspbrak

boyfriend*

And I'm single dipshit. Why would I be texting you if I wasn't?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

oh

Richie felt something in his chest flutter. Like a fucking schoolgirl watching her crush play in a football game. If he had a little less dignity (and it wasn't fucking insane in the mornings), he would twirl his hair and kick his feet.

Fucking focus, trashmouth.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

welcome to the club eds

e.kaspbrak

You're single?

Richie pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

yeah ?

have u ever seen a bf on my streams ?

e.kaspbrak

I just thought you had one off camera.

Or something.

He paused a second. That text somehow read as embarrassed or maybe... awkward. Richie wasn't sure how to read it.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

well i don't

e.kaspbrak

Well, me neither.

Richie's heart halted in his chest for a second.

e.kaspbrak

Obviously, because she won't stop bothering me.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just tell her u do

or tell her ur gay

e.kaspbrak

How is that her business?

And I can't just lie dipshit.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

it's not fair point

and why not ?

e.kaspbrak

She'll ask me questions.

And I'm shit at lying.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

let me do it for u

i did it for 18 years baby it's foolproof

e.kaspbrak

How the fuck are you going to do that?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

just spit out a person for u

i will give u all the details and u can just recite them

no thoughts needed spaghetti

e.kaspbrak

You can just make up a person?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

uh yeah

i used to do skits when i was like 12

by myself

e.kaspbrak

I would pay fucking good money to see some of those.

But okay. Give me your weird fake person.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

jamie porter

in tech school for IT shit

only child

really introverted bc constantly studying

likes jazz and the color blue

u go on classical concert dates sometimes

e.kaspbrak

What the fuck

That's not my type at all.

He honestly debated asking exactly what that was but he held back. Because, technically, Eddie knew his type. Which was exactly him. That... shit, he never thought about that.

He cleared his throat.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why would it be ?

he's not real eds

it's just for a lie

e.kaspbrak

Can I just tell you my type fuckface?

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

why

e.kaspbrak

Because I want to dipshit.

And I already know yours, it's only fair.

Richie felt a little stupid. And a little confused.

trashmouth.tozier ✔️

okay spaghetti whatever u say

e.kaspbrak

Tall idiots. Very tall, and very fucking stupid.

[eternalgoldfish]

burned out flames should never reignite (but i thought you might)

Reddie | M | Chapter 4/6 | 17.6k

Sunlight creeps across Richie’s bedroom floor as he blinks awake, unwilling to reach out for his glasses just yet. If he doesn’t, he can believe he hears water running down the hall a little longer. He can pretend he’s been woken far earlier than usual by soft feet on his hardwood floor instead of a car door slamming out on the street.

Until he puts his glasses on, the waking world is a myth. He can cling to his dreams.

The water shuts off, followed by the click of a door. Richie rubs his tongue over his fuzzy teeth. He’s gotta do laundry today. He’s gotta be a real fucking adult.

He gets out of bed without his glasses and dresses in a pair of gray sweatpants and a gray crewneck, which is probably but not definitely the Avenue Q one some guy lovingly screen-printed for him last year. A horny muppet for my horny muppet.

Richie doesn’t even like musicals. He can’t even remember the guy’s fucking name. Rob? Ben? Something generic for a talentless aspiring broadway actor with great cheekbones. They had dated for four enthusiastic weeks that happened to fall over Richie’s birthday.

Distantly, someone is muttering something, although maybe they’re shouting if Richie can hear it through the walls. It sounds more like they’re trying to be hushed, polite, but they can’t be trying too hard. Richie can make out some of their words anyway.

“I don’t think I’ll be making it today, something came up. [...] No, it’s nothing bad. I have [...] it’s not about work [...] there are starving children in Africa [...] I’m not risking conjunctivitis–”

He stuffs his feet into socks that are most likely hole-free before finally, finally reaching for his glasses.

This is his shamrock’d Kiss Me, I’m Horny sweater, actually–

“–For fuckssake, it’s pink eye–”

– and Eddie Kaspbrak is still in his apartment.

Not a dream.

Read on AO3

[eddieeatsass]

7 and 21 for reddie😎 only if you want to❤️

Sex Magic/Sex Pollen + Blind Date from this prompt list

This combo was so interesting, it really made me wrack my brain to figure out how to meld these two concepts together. My friend Jack actually helped me come up with this idea, so thank you for making us both push the limits of our imagination!

Read On AO3

The System had been in place for nearly a decade; the population’s first ever completely computerized dating process. A computer took in all of your data, scanning your life history, your future goals, your medical status, as well as having each client fill out a ten page questionnaire. All of that information was then used to narrow down everyone in their database, giving you your most compatible mate.

There were two experiences you could choose from; The Classic, which involved a regular blind date, and The Neo, which ended with the release of their patented pheromone gas. Clients who chose the later would get to experience the sensuality and intimacy that usually resulted at the end of a successful date. Clients were able to opt out at any time during the date, if they decide they do not want to go through with the final step. Despite that, however, the public still argued about the morality of the consent issues that could arise from this practice.

Because of this outrage over the program, The Neo got used less and less over time. What was once new and exciting had now taken a back seat to The Classic.

Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak were two of The Neo’s first clients in months. Of course, the company couldn’t tell them that they’d only been paired together because they were the only two participants available, so instead, Richie and Eddie went into a blind date expecting to find their computer generated soul-mate.

It was a bright, sunny Friday afternoon when Eddie approached the dating center. He was welcomed warmly, and after reading through and signing all of the consent forms and legal documents, he was lead to a room. The building he’d arrived at was nice, the lobby had been decorated in a way that reminded its clients of why they were there; to find love. However, the room Eddie found himself in was starkly opposite.

It felt like he’d walked into a hospital. Everything was white, and the air smelt of disinfectant poorly concealed with the artificial smell of roses. In the middle of the room was a small square table, already set up with a table cloth, a candle, and two plates of pasta that couldn’t possibly be fresh. To the side there was a bed, barely big enough to fit two people but obvious in its purpose. Eddie was just considering bailing on this whole thing when he heard the door open behind him.

He turned to see a tall man stumbling in, eyes darting around the room before settling on Eddie. He was accompanied by the same worker who had brought Eddie in moments ago, but she quickly left with a curt nod, shutting the door behind them.

The two men stared at each other for one very long, very awkward moment, before the taller man took the lead.

“Hi, I’m Richie, you’re soul-mate, apparently.” Richie stuck his hand out towards Eddie, a charming but shy smile revealing a set of slightly buck teeth.

Eddie grasped his hand, shaking it timidly before deciding Richie was decently attractive. Definitely the type of guy Eddie would try and pick up at a bar. He was pleased with the introduction so far.

“I’m Eddie-” His voice was abruptly cut off by the crackle of a speaker.

“You’ve got thirty minutes before the gas will be emitted. If at any point before that you wish to end the date, you may discreetly press the button beneath the table, at which point one of our staff will be in to get you. Thank you for choosing The System as your dating course of choice. Good luck at your happily ever after.”

The voice was monotone, the disclaimer obviously rehearsed and recycled for every new date they supervised.

Eddie was quick to stifle his giggle, finding the contrast between the person’s lack of enthusiasm and the idea of finding your one true soul-mate hilarious, but unsure of how Richie would take it.

Surprisingly, Richie laughed unabashedly.

“Wow, with an introduction like that, how could we not be excited.”

Eddie let his giggle bubble up, soothed by the knowledge that Richie thought this experiment was turning out just as ridiculous as he did.

“Do you wanna see how terrible the food tastes?” Eddie asked.

“Eddie, my dear, nothing would make me happier.”

The food was awful, but that much shouldn’t be a surprise. This was a dating service, after-all, not a restaurant. The meals were probably made in giant batches, left to sit out all day and only being stirred or re-heated when necessary.

They poked at their pasta more than ate it, focusing instead on the conversation that seemed to flow freely between them. So far, Eddie had found out that Richie had recently moved to the city, was an only child but had a friend named Stan who he considered a brother, was trying to become an actor, and had a pet turtle.

“So, Eddie spaghetti,” Richie said, pointing towards the neglected spaghetti with his fork and a self-satisfied smile. “What led you to sign up for this romantic excursion?”

There it was, the question Eddie had been dreading. He knew it was going to come up, but hadn’t quite figured out a way to explain without coming across as lonely and desperate.

The truth was Eddie had gotten to a turning-point in his life very recently, where he’d had to choose between his own happiness and the happiness of others. After years of letting his mother dictate his life, choosing his school, his career, his partner, his sexuality, he’d had enough. But how could he sum that all up without Richie thinking he was a loser?

“Uhm, I came out recently…” Eddie chose that route; not quite a lie, but not the whole truth.

“Hey, congratulations!” Richie cheered, clinking his glass of water with Eddie’s before taking a sip. The action caused Eddie to startle, unfamiliar with someone congratulating him on, well, anything.

“So, you thought this might be the best way to find that special man?” Richie winked, gesturing at himself comically.

Eddie nodded, a small smile secured across his features.

“What about you?” He asked, eager to turn the attention away from himself.

Richie raised his eyebrows, as if he hadn’t been expecting the question to be turned around on him.

“Oh, uh, well my friends signed me up for this actually.” Richie rubbed the back of his neck. “But, well I guess it’s because I’ve been moping around for the past few months. Bad breakup and all that, you know. They must have decided it was time to get me back out there, and thus, here I am.” Richie gestured to the room around them, bringing their attention back to the bed that sat tauntingly in the corner.

“Apparently sex is part of getting me back out there.” Richie added, trying to make a joke out of an awkward moment.

Eddie smiled a little sadly.

“Well, if this was your friends’ idea, you certainly don’t have to, you know, act on anything. There’s no pressure.”

Richie’s featured contorted, almost as if he was offended Eddie would even suggest Richie might not want to see this through with him.

“Thanks for the out, but I hope you don’t mind if I don’t take it.”

Eddie’s cheeks tinted pink, a bashful smile causing him to tilt his head down.

“You’ve got a cute smile.” Richie murmured, almost too quiet for Eddie to pick up, before he was suddenly changing the subject.

The half hour they had to talk went by quickly, but they still found the time to discuss their entry questions for the program. They found out that they’d answered almost everything entirely the opposite from one another, leading them to question just how the algorithm worked.

“I still can’t believe you’d prefer a night at an arcade over a horse-back riding lesson for a first date.” Eddie teased, rounding back to the first question they’d been asked on their entry questionnaire.

“Hey, I stick by my guns; horses are terrifying creatures and I wish never to meet one.” Richie joked.

“I’ll have to introduce you to my friend Mike. He owns a farm and they’ve got the most gentle horses you’ve ever met. They wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The insinuation of meeting up again after this program didn’t go unnoticed. Richie’s grin widened before Eddie realized what he’d said, slumping a bit lower in his chair and bringing the water glass to his lips.

“You know, if you want.” Eddie added, hiding his own smile behind a gulp of water.

“Already introducing each other to the friends, huh? Why Eddie, I didn’t know we were that serious.” Richie drawled in a dreadful impression of a southern belle.

Eddie’s face was flushed, his heartbeat preparing to send him to the hospital, when the overhead speakers came to life once more.

“We are now commencing part two. Please get comfortable as the gas begins to take its effects. Under the bed you will find anything you might need to make this experience more enjoyable.”

The two looked at each other with mixed expressions, the tone in the room suddenly thick with anticipation. The faint hissing of gas filtering in could be heard, but after looking around they couldn’t find its source.

Richie was the first one to move, pushing himself away from the table and heading towards the bed. He crouched down, reaching under the low bed frame and blindly feeling around until his hand met a box.

Once it was pulled out in full view, Richie and Eddie’s eyes both widened. The box was filled with an assortment of condoms, different types of lube, and even a few sex toys that were still in the package, marked with bright price stickers that implied if they used them, they were purchasing them to be taken home after.

“Wow, this is really happening.” Eddie said from where he still sat stock-still in his chair.

“Only if you want it to.” Richie said firmly, turning to give Eddie a genuine look.

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works. Soon our hormones are gonna take control and we won’t be able to help ourselves.”

“Hey,” Richie got up from his perch and walked over to Eddie, kneeling down in front of him and locking on to his gaze. “I will not do anything you don’t want me to. I don’t care what kind of crazy sex magic this is, I can and will hold myself back, if you tell me to.”

The tightness in Eddie’s chest began to loosen at Richie’s assurance, or maybe it was loosening because of the gas. Either way, Eddie found himself feeling more at ease, more confident, brazen.

He rose from his seat and passed by Richie, beginning to strip his shirt off as he walked towards the bed.

Richie was frozen in place, heart beating quickly at the mere sight of Eddie’s back. He was all tan skin and freckles and toned muscles; Richie found himself wanting to trace every curve with his tongue.

When Eddie’s hands began undoing his pants, Richie shot up and strode over within seconds, stilling Eddie’s hands with his own.

“Leave some for me, w-will ya?” He tried to joke, dry throat causing him to stumble over his words.

They couldn’t tell if the heat in the room was rising, or if it was the heat in their bodies. What had felt comfortable moments ago suddenly felt stifling. Getting rid of each other’s clothes became both lust-fueled and an attempt at regulating their temperatures.

Eddie began finding himself noticing things about Richie he hadn’t before. His hair was not an even shade of black, but rather a meld of dark browns and raven tones. It curled up in ways that made you want to run your fingers through it, and it looked so soft it was tantalizing.

Richie was noticing similar details about Eddie, like the swoop of his tiny nose and the smattering of freckles that didn’t just dust his cheeks, but scattered across his forehead and down his jaw. Richie followed the freckles down Eddie’s body, eyes glazing over as he took in the delicious planes of bare skin. When his gaze finally settled on Eddie’s cock, pink and perky, he dropped to his knees automatically.

Clients had to be free of STIs to pass through, so Richie didn’t think twice before taking Eddie into his mouth. The warmth of him on his tongue matched the warmth Richie felt all over, and the weight of the cock grounded him. He found it easy to focus on that and nothing else.

Eddie let out an unrestrained moan, letting his head tilt back as his fingers wound into that tempting hair. It was just as soft as he’d imagined, and he found himself gathering as much of it as he could in his fists.

As wonderful as it was to look down and see Richie’s mouth formed around his cock, eyes shut as he sucked with fervor unlike any Eddie had ever seen (or felt), Eddie needed more. His body tingled all over, his hole throbbed for attention, and all he wanted was for Richie to stuff him so full he wouldn’t be able to walk out of this place without assistance.

“Are you okay with topping?” Eddie struggled through his syrupy thoughts, trying to form a coherent sentence.

Richie hummed questioningly around Eddie’s cock, sending a shock of vibration up his shaft that had him cursing silently.

“Richie, are you okay with topping?” Eddie tried again, this time gritting the question through his teeth as his fingers tightened in Richie’s hair.

He got the same response, and irritation mixing with arousal caused Eddie to yank on Richie’s hair, pulling his head back and leaving him slack jawed and staring up at Eddie.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Eddie asked, all composure gone from his tone, replaced instead with desperation.

Richie smirked, raising on shaky legs and pulling Eddie close. Eddie’s hands were still tangled in his locks, causing his arms to rest on Richie’s shoulders.

“Oh Eds… I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be wrecked for anyone else.”

Richie leaned in, capturing Eddie’s lips in the first of their kisses. It was messy, driven by passion and an intensity that nearly knocked them off their feet.

Richie began steering Eddie backwards towards the bed, keeping their mouths connected with melding tongues and swallowed moans.

When Eddie felt the mattress hit the back of his legs, he turned around and crawled across the bed on all fours, lowering his chest until it touched the bed so his ass was in the air. He reached back with both hands, spreading his cheeks and presenting his hole to Richie. It was such an unexpected lewd pose that it nearly had Richie choking on air. Eddie looked like a cat in heat, bearing himself completely to be at the mercy of Richie.

“You better make good on your promise.” Eddie challenged, his voice a bit breathless.

Richie grabbed a bottle of lube from the box provided and hastily joined Eddie on the bed, his excitement causing him to stumble momentarily.

Richie’s chest was tightening, a slow spring getting ready to launch him into the abyss of infatuation. He was already completely taken with Eddie, but now, with the addition of the pheromones, he felt completely consumed by his obsession over this boy.

Richie was quick to squeeze some lube out onto his fingers, surprised when the smell of cherries drifted up to his nose. He looked at the label on the bottle, seeing it was indeed marketed as cherry flavored, and made a mental note to test it later when he wasn’t so hyper-focused on getting as deep inside Eddie’s guts as possible.

Richie brought a single digit to Eddie’s hole, admiring for a moment how pink and pretty it was; like a small flower waiting to bloom. He teased around the ring of muscle, enjoying the way the skin twitched in response, before he experimentally began pushing in.

Richie was surprised as Eddie’s hole essentially sucked him in, pulling him through the warm channel until he was up to his knuckle.

“I… may have stretched before coming here…” Eddie admitted, wiggling back into Richie shamelessly.

Richie’s brain was spinning, partially from the gas but mostly from the sight in front of him. Eddie was taking him so well, so eager to be stretched open and fucked good, and boy would Richie deliver.

After a few pumps and twists of his finger, Richie was already able to add another. In addition to Eddie having already stretched himself, a side effect of the gas was that it relaxed you, loosening your muscles and making your body more pliant. So Richie was able to get three fingers deep in record time, having received not a single complaint from Eddie, but instead continuous encouragement and hip swivels.

At this point, Eddie was basically fucking himself back on Richie’s fingers, and Richie legitimately considered letting him get off just like that. However, Richie’s own length was feeling ignored, so he shelved that idea for another day.

Richie removed his fingers, soothing Eddie’s whine with kisses along his back as Richie reached towards the box for a condom.

“No, n-no condom.” Eddie panted, trying to pull Richie’s hand back towards himself.

“Wha- are you sure?” Richie asked, despite his heart rate skyrocketing at the idea of being inside Eddie completely bare.

Eddie nodded, accompanied with a little moan.

“I want to carry your load inside me for the rest of the day.”

That’s all the encouragement Richie needed to convince him. He let his forehead rest between Eddie’s shoulder blades for a moment, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to compose himself so he didn’t cum then and there.

“You are going to kill me if you keep saying things like that.” Richie huffed out.

Eddie wiggled his ass back against Richie once again, only now that Richie was hunched over him, Eddie was grinding right back into his lap, the thick head of Richie’s cock catching on Eddie’s rim every few seconds.

“Then shut me up.” Eddie challenged coyly.

Well, Richie might only last a few seconds, but at least they’ll be a blissful few.

Richie drew back his pelvis, lining himself up with Eddie and pushing in without hesitation. The resulting moan was wanton, filling the room with a small echo that bounced off the walls. Richie momentarily wondered if these rooms were soundproof, and tried to think back to when he’d been walking through the halls. Had he heard anyone? Were there people listening to his most intimate moments right this second?

Eddie’s tight heat clenching around him was enough to shake those thoughts from his head. If they wanted to listen, then god bless them, because Richie would put on a show.

He pulled his hips back before pistoning forward with a vigor that knocked a choked moan out of Eddie. Richie quickly set a tempo that had Eddie unable to keep quiet, making sure to angle himself in a way that he found Eddie’s prostate, and keeping himself aimed towards it with every thrust.

“Fuck fuck hhhhhnnnnnngggg- so full.” Eddie groaned, reaching one of his hands down to his abdomen and pressing in, as if he might be able to feel Richie within him.

“So tight.” Richie responded, petting down Eddie’s back.

“I don’t know if it’s the g-gas but I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked this g-good- oh my god yesssss right there.”

Eddie was meeting Richie thrust for thrust, the sound of skin slapping together the only thing that could be heard apart from their moans.

“That’s not the gas- fuck- it’s all m- mmmmmm- all me, baby.”

Normally Eddie would hate a cocky response like that, but right then it went straight to his cock, causing it to twitch and release a heady string of pre-cum. He could tell he was going to cum soon, could feel the tightening in his balls and the constricting of his abdomen.

“I’m gonna cum, Richie- ‘m gonna- ahhhhh-”

Richie reached a hand around to Eddie’s front, grasping his cock in a gentle hold and giving it the attention it craved. Within seconds Eddie was spilling over Richie’s deft fingers, soiling the bed beneath them with waves of his release.

It took Richie another few minutes to cum, fucking into Eddie’s overstimulated hole to chase his own high. Eddie didn’t complain, didn’t wince away or whine, he just stayed open and willing, a vessel for Richie to get off.

When Richie finally finished and pulled out, Eddie collapsed on the bed, too far out of his mind to care that he was laying in his own cum, or that Richie’s was dripping out of him.

Richie lowered himself down beside Eddie, catching his breath as he let his eyes wander over the man’s lithe form. He wasn’t sure what the protocol was after having sex-gas initiated intercourse with a stranger. Did you cuddle? Kiss? Was he allowed to ask him on another date?

As the gas induced haze started to leave their minds, they became more and more aware of the state of them.

“Do you think they have showers here?” Eddie’s voice chirped up after a long silence. It was smaller than before, shy, maybe, which Richie thought to be endearing after he’d been begging for Richie to destroy him mere minutes ago.

“I hope so. I’m not too keen on the idea of walking home covered in my own spunk.”

Richie heard a small giggle, and when Eddie turned to face him he just about stopped Richie’s heart.

The smile on his face was radiant, shining up into his eyes and directly into Richie’s soul. Richie nearly missed his next few words, too busy falling so hard he thought he may get a concussion.

“I’ve always hated that word. Spunk.” Eddie repeated it, scrunching his nose up in disgust.

Richie wasn’t aware of his hand moving until it was curling a lock of Eddie’s hair around his ear, fingers drifting down to his cheek bone and along his jaw. Eddie’s face fell into a new expression, surprised, but also inquisitive and searching.

Richie let his hand settle on to Eddie’s neck, thumb grazing back and forth over his jaw. He locked in to those hazel eyes before slowly, carefully, leaning into Eddie’s space and placing a gentle peck on his lips.

Eddie responded with a light press of his own lips, eyelids fluttering shut only for them to pop back open when the kiss ended before he was ready.

“Eddie…” Richie took a breath, stilling himself before continuing. “Will you go on a date with me? A real date?”

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his grin from showing through. He tried to calm his heart down before responding.

“On one condition.”

Richie raised an eyebrow.

“The food has to be better than that slop.” Eddie nodded towards the table where their forgotten dinner laid.

“Of course, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie smiled before recapturing Eddie’s lips.

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + babysitting

“You’re doing it again.”

Richie reluctantly tore his gaze away from the captivating sight of Eddie’s mid-morning yoga session in the middle of their lounge, to his goddaughter, Rose Hanscom. She was looking at him knowingly, tapping her colouring pencil against her chin. Richie shrugged, feigning innocence.

“What?”

“You’re staring at Uncle Eddie.”

Richie spluttered in protest, lowering his voice so that Eddie wouldn’t overhear them, “no, I’m not. I was...daydreaming.”

“It’s okay,” Rose said understandingly, looking back at her colouring. She poked her tongue out in concentration, her pencil moving rapidly across the page, “I get it. You love him.”

Sometimes, most of the time, Richie really wished Rose was a lot less like her mother. He couldn’t think of anything to say in response so he just shushed her, gesturing for her to keep it down. Rose just raised her eyebrows.

“Why? Is it a secret? Because it’s not a very good one.”

Richie wanted nothing more for this conversation to be over, especially since Eddie was finishing his yoga and was about to join them in the kitchen. He ignored Rose in favour of retrieving one of Eddie’s disgustingly healthy smoothies, handing it to his friend.

“Feeling better, Eds?”

Nodding, Eddie swigged at his smoothie, “it still hurts a little but I’m getting better. It’s doing wonders for my muscle strength.”

“You wanna go grab something to eat?”

Rose’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, chiming in excitedly, “yeah! Please, Uncle Eddie!”

“Yeah, sure, just let me go shower.” he finished his smoothie, high-fiving the young girl as he walked away. As he reached the door to the bathroom, he heard Richie call after him.

“If you need someone to scrub your back, I’m your guy.”

Richie chuckled as Eddie flipped him off before he disappeared for his shower. He could sense Rose watching him and Richie didn’t need to look at her to know she had that smile on her face. Bev’s smile. Fuck it. He groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Shit, it’s that obvious, huh?”

“Yep.”

"Does Eddie know?” Richie asked, panicked. If Eddie knew it would be the end of his life. He’d have to move out, find a new place, a new group of friends. They’d never see each other again. All because of Richie’s dumb fucking feelings. However, Rose just shook her head.

“Nope. Don’t worry, he’s an idiot, too.”

Richie was too busy basking in his relief to properly focus on what exactly Rose meant.

-

“’And they lived happily ever after. The End.’” Eddie closed the book, smiling down at Rose. She was clutching her teddy bear, looking very much wide awake despite the bedtime story.

“It always ends happily ever after.”

Eddie laughed, folding his arms, “well, yeah. What do you expect?”

Rose shrugged, fiddling with her teddy bear. She silent for a few minutes before she added nonchalantly, “Uncle Richie looked good today. He bought a new shirt...”

"He did,” Eddie nodded in agreement, tucking Rose in gently, “it really brought out his eyes.”

"Mmm. He makes you laugh.”

Eddie lay beside Rose smiling softly, “yeah.”

“Is that why you love him?”

Eddie stared at her for a moment before sighing, shaking his head slowly, “that’s just one of about a million reasons.”

“Why aren’t you together?” Rose asked innocently, blinking her large eyes sweetly. She looked so much like Ben he found it hard to lie to the poor little thing. He shrugged, sitting upright.

“It’s complicated,” Eddie finally said, pressing a kiss to his goddaughter’s hair “but I figure if he wanted to, we’d be together. Get some sleep. Mommy and Daddy will be back tomorrow.”

"Hmm” Rose huffed, throwing his head against her pillow in frustration, “why don’t adults fudging talk to each other?”

She rolled over, facing away from him, making it abundantly clear the conversation was over. Eddie was just confused but didn’t say anything else; he switched on her night light and backed out of the room.

“What are you feeling: Final Destination or Grease 2?” Richie flicked through the options, “but if you want to watch something more Pixar-ish, I won’t be held responsible for my emotions,” when Eddie didn’t respond, Richie peered over the back of the couch, noticing the confused expression on his friend’s face, “what’s up?”

"I like you.”

Richie raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I like you, too, bud. Don’t tell Stan, though. He still thinks he’s my favourite.”

“No,” Eddie rounded the couch and sat beside Richie, picking up the glass of wine waiting for him and taking a large gulp. He was going to need it, “I really like you. I like your dumb shirts and your stupid jokes. I can’t stop thinking about your idiot face and how good you make me feel. I just love your dumbass self so much.”

Richie was silent for a moment as Eddie caught his breath, downing yet more wine. He pushed his glasses into place, taking a careful sip of his own wine. After what felt like an age, he smirked cheekily, “how does you declaring your love for me still sound like an insult?”

“That’s all you have to say?” Eddie lightly shoved Richie, pretending to pout as the idiot guffawed to himself, “fuck you.”

“Hey, if you can’t see how ridiculously in love with you I am, that’s on you,” Richie said, raising his hands in surrender. He was still laughing slightly despite the fact his dreams were coming true right in front of him, “I’ve been informed I wasn’t subtle.”

“We’re both a little at fault here,” Eddie admitted, settling on the sofa next to Richie. A few moments of awkward silence passed, both of them stealing glances at the other person. Finally, Eddie had the nerve to ask the question on both of their minds, “so, now what?”

“Well,” Richie shuffled closer, reaching out to hold Eddie’s hand in his just because he could. He looked down at their hands, smiling, “we’re going to do this properly, Eds. I’m going to take you out on a date. I’m going to treat you exactly how you should be treated.”

Unable to resist, Eddie leaned over and kissed Richie like he’d wanted to ever since he was thirteen. When they finally separated, Richie was a flustered mess much to Eddie’s happiness. He snuggled closer, resting his head on Richie’s shoulder. Grease 2 played on their TV and Richie wound his arm protectively around Eddie’s shoulder. He was the happiest he’d ever been.

-

The following morning, Rose rolled out of bed and grumpily stomped out of her room. She’d vowed to herself last night after Eddie had left that she was going to sit them down and mash their faces together if she had to. When she reached the kitchen, however, she quickly realised it wouldn’t be necessary.

Her godfathers hastily stopped making out but were not quick enough to separate completely, their hands were still clasped. Uncle Eddie was blushing whilst Uncle Richie looked like the cat who got the cream. Rose looked between them before a massive grin spread across her face.

“Thank GOD,” she dramatically fell into a chair, arms spread and head thrown back as she let out a long sigh, “I’m exhausted.”

[thorniest-rose]

reddie halloween prompt #4 candy

It all happens in the small pocket of time between advanced math and the dirge of gym. Jimmy’s dragging his heels, hanging back in the bathrooms on the second floor, trying to delay the inevitable jeers of all the boys in his class. As they mock him for his weak knees and his protruding ribs, pinging their towels at him and asking him how small his dick is, if it’s even big enough to get hard.

But Jimmy knows it’s coming. After years of falling victim for his chronic acne, and his high-pitched voice, for sometimes just existing, he’s come to expect it.

What he doesn’t expect is to be cornered by Richie Tozier, the weird loudmouth with the dark eyes and the wide grin, who laughed like a jackal at his own vulgar jokes and could outsmart all of their teachers without trying.

Jimmy hadn’t spoken to Richie in more than two years, had done nothing to warrant the boy’s wrath. So he doesn’t know why he’s here now, wedged back against the window as Richie grins down at him. The wacky kid with buck teeth and bottle glasses who had somehow transformed into this tall, moody, striking teen with the cheekbones that could cut glass. Who all the girls secretly looked at as he walked down the hallway.

He asks, “W-what do you want, Richie?”

Richie grins at him like they’re friends. “I just thought we could catch up, Jimmy. I’ve seen you hanging out with your new girlfriend.”

Jimmy swallows hard. Was that what this was about?

“Oh yeah…”

“Oh yeah,” Richie mocks. “What, you think no one had noticed? That one of the hottest girls at school is suddenly hanging off your dick and no one would say anything?”

Jimmy shrugs, but his mouth has gone bone dry. He’d been dating Cindy for the last three weeks and it had sent ripples through school. Everyone was shocked. That someone as beautiful and popular as Cindy would even talk to a guy like Jimmy, let alone fall head over heels for him. At lunchtime she now ditched all her friends to sit in a corner of the cafeteria with him, and after school walked home with his hand in hers. At the weekend, they got ice cream and walked to the lake and sat in his backyard, and the entire time she looked at him with her big blue eyes, and told him she never wanted anything else. 

“It’s just curious, that’s all,” Richie continues, eyes glinting. “Pretty sure she hated your fucking guts a few months ago.”

“Things change, Richie.”

“Is that right,“ he replies, his dark eyebrows raised mockingly.

And Jimmy’s had enough. He gets enough shit from jock assholes as it is, without a weird fucking kid like Richie joining in.

“Richie, I really have to get to class. Gym is starting and if I’m late-”

Richie pushes him back against the wall with one hand to his chest. The skin on the back of his hand is mottled, scarred, and Jimmy’s chest tightens. The skin looks like it was run over with a sheet of barbed wire. 

“Hold your horses,” Richie says, “we haven’t finished catching up yet.”

Jimmy blurts, “Are you… are you jealous or something?”

“Nice try, dipshit, but no, I’m not jealous that you’re with a blonde airhead like Cindy. I need to know how you did it.”

Jimmy feels the bottom drop out of his stomach.

“What?”

“Come on,” Richie says, his mouth unfurling into a slow, smoky grin, “don’t wuss out on me now.”

“Cindy has feelings for me.”

Richie barks and rolls his eyes. "Unless you’re seriously packing down there, I doubt that.”

“I mean it, we have a real connection.”

The good humour drops from Richie’s face.

“Bullshit,” he hisses, making Jimmy flinch. “I know you did something. No way would she even fucking look at a little creep like you if you hadn’t done something to her. So you’re either paying her, but I know your parents are piss poor so it’s not that. Maybe you’re blackmailing her, but you’re too pussy for that too. So it has to be something else.”

“What do you mean?” Jimmy splutters, feeling like he’s going to wet himself. 

He’d heard things about Richie over the last few years. That he got his scars from some unknown childhood trauma, that he’d been kidnapped and tortured by a crazy man. Jimmy didn’t know how true any of that was, but he couldn’t deny the mad glint in Richie’s eyes. That his smiles were always slightly too manic to be good-natured. That when he laughed it sent chills through him. 

“Are you going to beat me up? Tell Cindy? Try to reverse the spell?”

He regrets it the second it’s out his mouth, but Richie’s eyes shine, like he’d guessed the twist in a movie before everyone else. 

“I knew it,” he says.

Panic grips Jimmy; it catapults him halfway across the bathroom, but Richie is too fast for him. Before he can make it to the door, he feels a hand on his backpack and a second later he’s being thrown back towards the sinks. He crashes back, stumbling, and almost falls to the floor. And Richie just stares at him, a dead heat lighting up his eyes. One brown and one blue. 

“Please, let me go, Richie,” Jimmy says, half crumpled against the sinks. He cringes at the whimpering note in his voice, how close he sounds to begging.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why? Are you going to blackmail me?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“What do you want? I don’t have anything to give you. I don’t have money.”

Richie’s lips draw back in a snarl. “Are you really that fucking stupid? I’m here because I want you to do it for me too.”

Jimmy blinks at him. He didn’t think Richie would have any problems with girls. Not with the way they had started to look at him.

His mind flicks through the girls in their year, tries to settle on anyone Richie might like. But he’d never seen Richie pay attention to any girls he knew. Come to think of it, he didn’t think Richie ever had a girlfriend.

“You do…? On who?”

Richie doesn’t hesitate as he says, “Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Jimmy feels his mouth drop open. He says, “You’re… you’re a fag?”

Richie’s face goes dark, and Jimmy’s vision blacks out as Richie’s fist smashes into the side of his mouth. He staggers back, his head cracking against the wall, and distantly he hears himself cry out as a searing bolt of pain shoots through his skull.

When he comes to, his vision blotting hazily at the corners, Richie’s wiping his bloody knuckles against his jeans. 

“Maybe we should try that again,” he says, tone mild, like he hadn’t just punched Jimmy in the face. “But if you say that fucking word one more time, I’ll push you out the window.”

Jimmy’s eyes prickle hot as the blood drips down his mouth. He thinks he might cry.

Richie notices and he sneers at him. “God, you’re such a fucking pussy. I could do a lot worse than that, you know.”

“I don’t know if I can do the spell again.”

And he didn’t. Jimmy had found the spell in an old tome he’d found in a dark basement bookstore two towns over. A place he heard whispers about. He hadn’t even thought the spell would work. But it had. He’d walked out of his house the next morning and Cindy had been on his doorstep, so happy and eager to see him Jimmy initially thought it had been a joke. But it hadn’t. She was besotted.

Richie looks unamused as he pulls an old lighter out of his pocket. 

“You better remember,” he says, as he flicks it on, the orange flame making Jimmy jump. “Or I’ll have to help you jog your memory.”

“I… I guess I could try,” he mumbles as he watches the flame burn in Richie’s hand.

Richie shakes his head. “You’ll need to do better than that.” He flicks the lighter off and on again. “Have you been burned before? I read once that being set on fire is the most excruciating pain you can ever feel. I wonder if Cindy will still feel the same about you if she can’t recognise you. Spell or no spell.”

Desperation claws at Jimmy’s throat and he quickly blurts, “Okay, I’ll do it, I will.”

Richie flicks the lighter off. “Good,” he says. 

And a part of Jimmy, though surprised, gets it, because Eddie was beautiful. Over the last year he’d blossomed from a sick little boy into something slender and sweet, with long tanned legs and the thickest lashes Jimmy had ever seen. There was a rumour going around school that Eddie was prettier than most girls, and that they all hated him for it. Not that he seemed to notice. He went to his classes and ran with the track team, and was always quiet and serene, apart from the times he saw Richie. When his expression went icy and his tone turned brittle.

Jimmy still can’t help but ask, “Why him?”

"Because he’s everything,” Richie replies. 

Jimmy doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he says, “I’ll need something of his. For the spell to bind to him.”

“No problem.”

Richie takes a small locket of dark hair out of his pocket. Jimmy stares at it. He doesn’t want to know how Richie got it. How he already had it on him. 

“There are risks, I need you to know that,” he says as Richie hands it to him. 

Richie just stares at him, looking bored. “I don’t really care.”

“But it might not work. Or it could go wrong. Sometimes these spells… sometimes they don’t turn out the way we expect them to.”

And Jimmy was telling the truth. He’d heard some terrible things. Sometimes the spell didn’t take, and sometimes it took too well, driving the enchanted lover to the edges of hysteria, so obsessed with the object of their affections that they couldn’t eat or sleep. That they couldn’t function without being with the person who had cast the spell.

“Just do whatever it takes,” Richie says, his brown eye so dark it looked almost black. “I want him to be crazy for me. So crazy that he needs me, all the time. I don’t want him to think of anything else but me. Got it?”

“Got it,” Jimmy says quietly. And for some reason he feels ashamed. 

He jumps again when he feels Richie clap his hand down on his shoulder.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard was it? You have a week. Or I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done. And your cute new girlfriend won’t be able to stand the sight of you.” He grins at Jimmy. "Sound good?”

“Yeah,“ Jimmy says, head nodding stupidly even as his stomach churns. “Sounds good.”

“Cool, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

On his way out, Richie gestures to Jimmy’s nose. “You might want to clean that up by the way. Get a cotton bud up there.”

In the silence following Richie’s departure, Jimmy stares at himself in the mirror and doesn’t recognise the pale, pleading face staring back at him. He thinks he might be sick, but instead he mops up the blood oozing from his nose and goes to gym.

A week later, he hides around a corner as he watches Richie hand Eddie the candy: a little bag of pink love hearts knotted at the top with a ribbon. Inside, one of the love hearts is special. Nestled inside the sugar is a drop of lamb’s blood, crushed belladonna, and the membrane of a baby bird. The potion Jimmy had made and injected into the candy the night before, the potion that would turn Eddie’s blood molten for Richie.

Eddie asks, "Why, Richie?" 

"Can’t I treat you, baby?” Richie replies.

“Don’t call me that please.”

Eddie looks at the candy dubiously at first, but eventually he can’t resist, and he takes it from Richie with a mumbled thanks.

Jimmy has a thought of ducking round the corner and running down the hall, slapping the candy from Eddie’s hands just in time, of saving him. But he doesn’t. Because he’s a coward. So he hangs back and watches instead. Watches as Eddie takes the special love heart, the one that’s pinker and plumper than the rest, and pops it into his mouth. 

The change is instantaneous. Eddie’s body goes suddenly taut, as if his limbs are being pulled together by a string, and his eyes go bright and glossy as he stares up at Richie. The frown between his eyes melts away, and in its place his expression softens, his mouth pink and lax as he mouths Richie’s name. 

Jimmy feels like he’s going to throw up. He spins around and starts walking away just as he hears Eddie say, “Richie,” like he’s seeing the other boy for the first time. Like Richie is a bright, burning sphere of sunshine in an endless night. He walks down the hallway and all the way home. Tosses and turns all night with half-snatched dreams.

And the next day, when he comes across the two boys making out in the woods, Eddie’s mouth so wet and red as Richie bites at it, his hands grabbing as Eddie through his jeans while the smaller boy gasps, Jimmy doesn’t do anything. And when Richie’s eyes meet his over Eddie’s head, swimming with mirth, and something like greed, Jimmy stumbles and runs. He runs and runs, and not once does he ever think to look back.

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

81 and 82 + reddie for the smut prompts please darling? 💖✨

81 “We’re just friends” & 82 “Friends don’t do this kind of shit.”

Hey Di, sorry for the wait! I’m throwing both of these prompts together! You can also read it on AO3

NSFW 

"Rich, you need to stop."

Richie jerked back, studying Eddie's face for any sign of discomfort. He was sure Eddie was enjoying the way Richie was kissing and biting his neck, if the little gasps he was letting out were any indication.

"You don't like that?"

"What?" Eddie asked, blinking his eyes into focus. For a moment he seemed genuinely confused that Richie wasn't kissing him anymore, then he snapped out of it and pulled Richie back in. "No, not that. I like that, keep doing that. I mean. You need to stop giving me those looks." 

"What looks?" Richie asked, picking up where he left off and sucking a hickey on Eddie's throat. He let out a happy sigh.

"You know." He said, his fingers tangling in Richie's hair. "The 'I've seen you naked looks' you were giving me."

"But I've seen you naked, Eds." Richie replied with a smug smile, even if Eddie couldn't see it.

He gave a sharp tug to his curls. "Yes, but our friends don't know that." He said, giving them another tug just because he knew how much Richie liked it. "And we don't want them to find out, remember? Not yet." 

Richie shrugged, he couldn't care less if their friends found out the truth, but Eddie insisted that they kept it quiet for now. Richie had to admit he enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, but he was also dying to tell everyone that Eddie and him were together and he wanted to give Eddie as many adoring, and yes, maybe a little sexy, looks as he pleased.

Richie didn't even realize he was looking at Eddie like that. He thought he was giving him friendly 'we haven't touched each other's dicks' looks while they watched a movie with their friends in Stan and Richie's dorm room. He thought the way Eddie was squirming in his seat was due to the horror movie Bev had picked. And when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet, claiming he needed to get his special neck pillow from his room across the hall, Richie thought it was just an excuse to get a break from the movie. 

Then Eddie grabbed his hand on the way out and dragged him through the door with him. Richie figured he didn't want to go alone and went willingly. He was surprised when Eddie pushed him against the door of the room he shared with Bill and proceeded to shove his tongue down Richie's throat. He recovered quickly, manhandling Eddie until he had him pressed against the desk and returning the kiss with matching intensity. 

He was only realizing now that it was the look he gave Eddie, albeit unknowingly, that ended up with Eddie propped up on the desk with his legs wrapped around Richie's waist while he  sucked on his neck. Why would Richie want to stop looking at him like that?

"So you don't want me to look at you?" He asked, biting down on Eddie's jaw and enjoying how it made his breath hitch. "Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you already?" 

Eddie let out a snort. Richie jumped when his hand wiggled between them and squeezed the obvious tent in his pants. "I know just how hard it is." He whispered, his voice low and husky in a way that made Richie’s cock twitch against Eddie's hand. 

Richie swallowed thickly when he squeezed again. "Ah! Eds gets off a good one." 

"Hmm." Eddie hummed distractedly, using his other hand, still tangled in Richie's hair, to bring their lips together. "Now take off your pants so we can both get one off."

Richie let out a strangled laugh. "God you're perfect." He blurted out, giving him a surprisingly chaste kiss before unzipping his pants. Eddie gave him a fond smile while working on his own zipper. 

They knew they were in a hurry, if they didn't go back to their friends soon they might come looking for them. So they didn't even bother to take off their pants completely, just enough so they could get their dicks out. They were both fully hard after a very intense make out session and some mild grinding. Eddie's dick was already leaking, wetness gathering at the tip. That alone made Richie forget about their limited time and drop to his knees, taking Eddie in his mouth.

"Fuck Richie!" He gasped, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite on his knuckles. He kept the other one in Richie's hair to guide him up and down his length.

Richie hollowed his cheeks, drawing a choked whimper from Eddie. That sound went straight to his own dick and he took it in his hand, timing his strokes with the movements of his mouth.

He was ready to make Eddie come like this and jerk himself off after he came down his throat. He picked up the pace when Eddie's thighs started to shake, knowing he was close, but before he came, Eddie was pulling at his hair and shoulders, dragging Richie to his feet.

He stumbled into the space between Eddie's legs. "I want to kiss you." He groaned, arching up so he could lick into Richie's mouth. Their lips parted with a soft, wet sound. "I'm close, Rich."

"I've got you, baby." Richie said, going along with the change of plans. He let go of his dick to wrap his fingers around Eddie. He didn't have to miss the friction in his own dick for long, Eddie took over, his fingers expertly stroking Richie.

They weren't kissing anymore so much as panting into each other's mouths as they both neared the edge. "Rich, I'm gonna come." Eddie moaned. "My shirt- don't let it get on my- Oh my god!"

Eddie came with a loud moan. Richie, who somehow understood his broken words, managed to keep his come from getting on his shirt, like the thoughtful boyfriend he was. 

He planted feather light kisses on the soft skin of Eddie's neck while he came down, keeping his come covered hand away from them and using the other one to tilt Eddie's head to the side. 

"You're so fucking hot, Eds." He whispered  into his ear and Eddie gave him a lazy smile in return. 

"Are you close?" He asked Richie, picking up the pace with his hand the way he liked. 

"Hmm." Richie let out a strangled sound and nodded, pushing his cock into Eddie's fist. 

Eddie kissed him, sucking on his tongue and expertly twisting his wrist until Richie followed him over the edge, a broken 'Eddie' falling from his lips.

Richie dropped his head against Eddie's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you those looks anymore?" He pulled back to smile giddily at Eddie. 

His lips twitched into a smile, then something else registered because he wrinkled his nose. "Right now all I want you to give me is a tissue. My hand is covered in come." 

Richie threw his head back with a laugh. "I'm on it, babe." With his pants threatening to fall from his hips, he picked up a box of tissues from the floor, giving one to Eddie and using another to clean his own hand. 

He had just tossed them both towards the trash can when they heard someone bang on the door, followed by the rattle of the doorknob. Richie barely had time to step in front of Eddie, still sitting on the desk with his dick out, before the door flung open. 

He was facing in the opposite direction and he couldn't see the door, but he saw Eddie's mortified expression and he heard Bev shriek, which was enough to get the picture.

Then, "I fucking knew it." Stan said, and Richie thought he heard Ben mutter, "Is Richie wearing My Little Pony boxers?" He could've sworn it was Mike who answered him, but he didn't hear what he said.

Richie grimaced. "Fuck, is it all of them?" He asked Eddie.

He got his answer when Bill groaned, "Seriously? On my fucking desk?" 

Which confirmed to Richie that it was all of their friends who had just walked in on them. So Richie did what he did best to lighten up awkward situations. He made a joke. "Don't worry Bill, we will use your bed next time."

Eddie slapped his arm and Richie instinctively moved back, before realizing his body was  the only thing hiding Eddie's lower half from their friends. He looked over his shoulder at them, crowded next to the very open door.

"Do you guys mind closing that? Five people walking in on us is more than fucking enough." He muttered. "A bigger audience and I might start charging."

The door clicked shut and after a couple of very awkward moments, Bev cleared her throat, "So are you two dating?" She asked, completely casual, like she didn't just walk in on two of her friends after they had sex.

Richie wanted to laugh, this was fucking weird, but Eddie was giving him a warning look that made him change tactics. "What?" He asked, playing dumb. "No way, no. Eduardo and I- we're- just friends."

It sounded convincing to his own ears, but based on the way Eddie looked at him and mouthed 'seriously?' it probably wasn't. 

Richie shrugged his shoulders to say 'well, what did you want me to say?'

Someone snorted- Stan? Mike?

"Friends don't do this kind of shit." Definitely Stan.

He tried again. "Just because you and I don't do it Stanothy, it doesn't mean that-"

"Rich." Eddie interrupted, the first time he spoke since getting walked in on. He gave Richie a little shake of his head that told him that yeah, they got caught and they couldn't lie their way out of this, but his mouth was curled up in a way that told Richie that maybe Eddie didn't mind that much. 

Richie felt his face break into a grin. He never intended for them to get caught, honestly. But he was glad they did, because now he could do this- press his lips against Eddie's while their friends watched. 

"Does that answer your question, Bev?" Richie asked, kissing him again just because he could. He heard Bev giggle. "Now, can my boyfriend and I get a little privacy or do you want me to turn around and show you why everyone calls me Big Dick Tozier?"

"Literally no one calls you that." Stan said, probably while rolling his eyes. 

Richie ignored him. "One." He counted out loud. "Two." But he never got to three. He heard the door open, shuffling footsteps and Bill say, "I'm going to burn that desk," before it shut again. 

Eddie sighed loudly. "Guess the cat is out of the bag."

Richie snickered, tipping his head to look down at them, at their undone pants. "More like- the dick is out of the bag." 

Eddie scrunched up his nose, but despite himself, he laughed. Loud and happy, right before he pulled Richie in to give him another kiss. 

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @stylesmelon  @s-s-georgie @thelazyeye @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie@jesuschristsupruvestar  @reddie4diaster  @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler  @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak   @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak   @twoidiotsinl0ve  @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen  @call-me-bread @wickedlyweasley @derpyanimatesstuff @braverthanyathink @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @typewrxter  

[deviltrs]

Hear me out: Reddie on a “date” to a fair (it’s a date in eddies mind but richie is clueless) [i will die on the Richie being clueless on occasion hill if I have to ]

i see you AND i hear you, anon. 100%

tbh i HC richie is pretty oblivious when it comes to dating, dates and eddie’s blatantly obvious feelings for him LMAOO 

so i kinda set it in HS?? and its like 1992-1993, so they’re about 16-17. 

i hope you enjoy anon! i’m sorry if it sucks a little bit (or a lot)

i haven't written anything publicly for a HOT minute and definitely need to brush up a little bit on my writing skills

and i’m also sorry if they’re really OOC, i’m still learning and trying my best.

NONE OF THIS WAS PROOFREAD SORRY LMAO

---

Eddie invites him to the towns annual fall festival. Just the two of us, he’d said on the phone yesterday.

Richie could never deny Eddie much of anything, so he immediately agreed. The idea of the two of them hanging out alone, oddly enough, makes him feel like there are butterflies in his stomach. He shrugs it off, as he’s done for the past three or four years, and he goes through the rest of his day, anxiously awaiting the next. 

And that’s where he is now. With Eddie, at the festival. 

Everything’s fine, so he doesn’t know why he’s freaking out so bad. Honestly, everything’s more than fine. Richie buys him an ice cream, and for once, Eddie doesn’t go on a full-blown rant about Richie spending his money on him when he’s perfectly capable of paying for himself. 

Eddie doesn’t shrug his arm off when Richie throws it around his shoulders while they’re walking towards the games, either. He leans in a little closer, actually, which feels like it sends a jolt of lightning straight through every fiber of Richie’s being. 

He’s just... all smiles, no rants, no freak-outs. A few insults or two, though, because that’s just how Eddie is, and Richie wouldn’t have it any other way. But... it’s weird not to see him reaching for his fake inhaler to ease his nerves, or thoroughly sanitizing his hands after he touches everything. He’s been like that all day, too. Didn’t even complain about the god awful mess in Richie’s car when he got in.

Now, as it begins to get darker outside, he’s sitting down right across from him at a picnic table, sharing a funnel cake. Their hands have brushed once or twice, and Eddie’s even wiped some powdered sugar off of the side of Richie’s mouth, and he isn’t even going to think about how red his face fucking got when that happened.

“Earth to Richie!” he hears Eddie yell.

He blinks once, twice, three times, trying to rid his mind of the thoughts that kept him so in his head, and turns and flashes a big smile in Eddie’s direction.

“What ‘s it, Spaghetti?” Richie replies, reaching for several pieces of the funnel cake and plopping all of them in his mouth at once. “‘S there anything you wanna do?” he asks in-between chewing, and Eddie visibly grimaces.

“Say it, don’t fucking spray it, dickwad. You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Eddie complains, and Richie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t chewing his food. “And chew with your mouth closed! Jesus Christ, who taught you your table manners?”

After Richie swallows his food, he takes a large gulp from his Coca Cola and shrugs. “I was raised by apes, they taught me everything I know about manners, Eds.” he teases.

He gets a small laugh out of Eddie at that one, along with an eye-roll. “Very funny. And don’t call me that, Richie!” Eddie replies, reaching across the table to give Richie’s shoulder a small shove. Richie laughs, now that his mouth isn’t full, and shakes his head.

“Don’t lie, you like when I call you Eds.”

Eddie blushes? Richie thinks he is, anyways. But why the hell would Eddie be blushing?

Eddie’s voice snaps him out of it before he can dwell too much into it. “Whatever you say.” he grumbles, reaching and grabbing the last piece of their shared funnel cake. He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth when he’s done, and he doesn’t even give Richie time to speak before he’s talking again.

“Do you want to get on the ferris wheel? It’s getting darker, so we can see all the lights better.” he speaks hurriedly, pointing over towards where the ferris wheel sits, spinning as they sit a little ways away from it. The lights are coming on, now, on all the attractions. Shades of pink and purple, red and blue, green and yellow. They’re bright, but they light up Eddie’s face in just the right way to make Richie think god, he’s beautiful.

“Sure, let’s get to it, Eduardo!” Richie replies, loudly, standing on his feet. He grabs their trash and throws it away in the nearest trashcan, and walks back over towards Eddie, who grabs his fucking hand and starts walking towards the ferris wheel.

He starts to wonder if this is even Eddie, because it dawns on him that Eddie doesn’t even like festival rides. They’re covered in bacteria and germs, dumbass, he’d usually say. But that isn’t the case this evening, apparently, because Eddie is smiling as they approach it, grabbing his tickets from his back pocket and handing two to Richie. 

“You know I have my own, right?” Richie asks, but Eddie just shakes his head. 

“You used at least ten tickets on that darts game until you won me that stuffed Kirby. Shut up and let me be nice to you.” Eddie retorts, and Richie does as he’s asked. He mimics zipping up his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, which gets a small chuckle out of Eddie. He counts that as a win, so long as he sees Eddie laughing, at least. 

Spoiler alert: he doesn’t shut up. He doesn’t know how.

Eventually, after bickering back in forth in line about everything they could think of, they’re finally getting on the ferris wheel, being seated and secured in before they take off and are stopped again.

Eddie turns to Richie, his hands on the handlebar, looking as content as ever. “Thank you for saying yes when I asked you out on this date. I know it was kinda stupid to ask you over the phone, but-- whatever. Thank you, asshole. I’m having a great time.”

Richie feels like his jaw has dropped. 

Asked him out on what?

“You-- me-- date? What? Since when?” Richie stammers, and Eddie’s brows furrow. His face becomes redder than the top of the haunted house’s tent.

“You didn’t know this was a date?” Eddie asks, and Richie shakes his head repeatedly.

“No! You didn’t say anything about a date!”

“I literally fucking said it was!”

“No, you said ‘Hey, do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us’ and that is not asking me out on a date!”

“I said ‘Do you want to go out with me to the festival tomorrow, just the two of us,’ emphasis on go out with me, and that was literally me asking you on a date, dumbass!”

Richie processes. 

And processes.

And processes some more.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m on a date with you.” Richie says, blank faced. On the inside he’s screaming with absolute joy.

“Yeah, you are, dumbass. You-- forget I said anything--”

Richie interrupts him, quickly, “No, no! I’m not like-- freaked out about it or anything. I’m happy to go on a date with a cutie like you, Eds!” he says, leaning towards Eddie and pinching his cheek affectionately.

Eddie swats his hand away, blushing and grumbling, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “Do you-- fuck, do you like me, Rich? I mean, I-- I’m obviously into you.”

Richie nods, very enthusiastically, and smiles wider than he ever has when one of Eddie’s hands come off of the handlebar to grab one of his. “Absolutely, Eds, I mean-- how could I not? You’re my best friend. And, also, you’re so easy to piss off and rile up. It’s fuckin’ cute!” he says, smile never falling from his face. 

“I am not easy to rile up, you dick.” Eddie argues, but his tone holds no distaste or actual anger within it.

So Richie, being Richie, shakes the passenger car they’re in as soon as the wheel takes motion again to prove a point, and Eddie screeches. “You fucking dick! Why the hell would you do that? Do you know how many deaths have happened because of people rocking these fucking things?” he yells, and Richie lets out a full belly laugh.

“Oh, it’s so fucking funny, isn’t it? Do you want to die on a ferris wheel in this shit town? Do you--”

Richie finally makes a move, and decides to shut Eddie up with a kiss. 

It works.

[trashmouthkid]

This might sound kinda weird, but how about a Reddie fic where Richie’s there for Eddie (after they’ve started dating) while Eddie gets his wisdom teeth removed and is all loopy on the medicine (and/or maybe the other way around too lol)

It's three in the afternoon when Richie pulls Eddie through the apartment door and past the living room, their arms weirdly looped around each other as Eddie gave half his weight to Richie, still weak from the anesthesia. Richie manages to make it into the bedroom and right to the end of their bed before his arms give out and Eddie sits back on the mattress with a rather pronounced thunk. As Richie leans down to inspect him, Eddie reaches out and grabs for Richie's face. Richie pulls away.

"Quit," he murmurs, snorting. "I'm not kissing you with blood and gauze in your mouth."

Eddie, who'd been more drowsy and less talkative most of the ride home, now blinks at Richie with wide-awake eyes. "I'd kiss you," he says matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I see." Richie turns to their dresser drawers to grab a couple of t-shirts with less drool on them. "Gather 'round, y'all," he says to an empty room. "Eds' got jokes!"

"I mean it," Eddie scowls, and maybe he really does, but Richie can't think about that right now. He's tired from waking up early, and tired from driving, and tired from trying to put himself in Eddie's head in order to take care of him the way Eddie might otherwise take care of himself.

Eddie's head is an exhausting space. Richie doesn't understand how Eddie isn't sleeping 24/7.

He hands Eddie the t-shirt he grabbed for him—something old and worn from Derry—and Eddie seems to frown at it as Richie changes into his own.

"Can I have one of yours?" he asks. Richie's glasses twist painfully on his face as he pulls his head through his shirt and he adjusts them before giving Eddie a curious look. Eddie shrugs. "To compensate for the two gaping holes I have in my mouth," he explains. "And the fact that you won't kiss me."

"Oh my god." Richie rolls his eyes, even as he turns back to find him one of his own shirts. "Just wait til the pain kicks in."

Eddie is already stripped down to his boxers by the time Richie finds him something wear. He takes the oversized t-shirt gratefully this time, and tucks himself into bed after putting it on. Richie's about to head out to get some water when Eddie grabs his wrist and holds him back.

"Wait," he says softly. "I think I'm missing something."

Richie falters a little bit, but manages a laugh. He brings Eddie's hand up to his mouth and kisses it. "Like your wisdom teeth, maybe?"

"Oh," Eddie smiles, cheeks pinking. "Maybe so."

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

For the challenge- hope

Thirty Minute Fic Challenge - Hope

start: 21:05finish: 21:35word count: 1,106

warnings: Maggie being the best mom ever!

* * * * * 

The house was eerily quiet for it being 9pm on a Saturday night, Maggie Tozier mused as she moved from the kitchen to the bottom of the stairs. Richie hadn’t gone out that night, due to conflicting plans with his friends, and had chosen to spend the night in his room reading comics and watching movies. Up until 7pm, there had been the noise of the television in the background, but now there was nothing.

She paused for a moment before shaking her head and walking back to the living room, taking a seat next to Went who was reading the paper from that day. As she sat down, Went turned his head, giving her a soft look, “What’s going on Mags? Is everything alright?”  

“Mhm,” She nodded, turning her head back to the stairs for a moment, “Don’t you think Richie has been really quiet for most of the night? Normally when he spends the night in he is either yelling at his video games, playing music or watching movies. I haven’t heard a peep from him since before 7pm.” Maggie was tempted to go check on her son, but she stopped herself. He was seventeen years old, he didn’t need his mother checking on him when he was quiet. She trusted him to come to her if there was something wrong.

Went folded up the paper and stretched a little, sitting it on the edge of the sofa before turning his whole attention to his wife, “Just go see if he’s okay. I know you don’t want to invade his privacy, but I can tell it’s bothering you. Just knock on the door, stick your head in and see if he wants anything.”

Maggie bit her lip, weighing over the choice before she nodded and moved to the stairs, walking up slowly until she reached Richie’s bedroom door. She could see that his lamp was on, from the light illuminating from below the door, and she raised her fist to the door, knocking softly before opening the door just a crack.

Out of all of the scenarios that Maggie had envisioned, the one that she saw was not one of them. Instead of finding her son passed out with his clothes on, or engrossed in a book, or something else that would cause him to be quiet, what she saw was her son asleep on his bed...not alone. Wrapped around her son, dressed in one of Richie’s hoodies and a pair of shorts was none other than Eddie Kaspbrak.

Both of them were fast asleep, Richie’s arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie’s around Richie’s waist, head resting on his chest. She hadn’t even noticed that Eddie had come over, he normally would come and say hello. Her eyes moved to the window, which was open a crack, and then to the overnight bag in the corner as her mind slowly pieced everything together. They didn’t want her to know Eddie was here.

At the sight, as well as the revelation, Maggie’s heart swelled. She was almost tempted to rush to the bedroom and grab the camera Went bought her for Christmas to snap a picture of the pair, but she was too scared she’d wake them up. Not even the mother in her, the small part that was screaming about her son in bed with another boy who he was very much into, could force her to wake them up.

With one final glance at the pair, Maggie went to close the door, only for it to creak a little. She froze, watching the two boys and wincing as Eddie blinked open his eyes, locking with hers from across the room. Eddie’s eyes widened and he moved to get up, but Maggie shook her head, slowly making her way into the room, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Richie was still very much out of it, and Maggie knew that he could probably sleep through a hurricane.

“It’s okay,” Maggie smiled, reaching out a comforting hand to settle on Eddie’s arm, attempting to soothe the boy. It seemed to work as Eddie relaxed, slowly settling back into his previous position but this time with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “You know, you don’t have to hide the fact that you want to stay here. We’d never kick you out, Eddie.”

His blush deepened and he bit down on his lip, “I- I know that...I just... we weren’t sure…” he trailed off and Maggie could see that he wanted to hide his face in Richie’s shirt. It was then, that Maggie reached her second revelation of the evening.

“Eddie...are you and Richie dating?” She asked, keeping her voice soft so as to not wake her still sleeping son. Panic surged in Eddie’s eyes and she quickly continued, “Because if you are, then it’s okay. I’ve known Richie was gay since he was fourteen, and I’ve also known that he’s been just as crazy about you since then...maybe even longer. You’re both seventeen, almost graduating and moving on to a whole new part of your life. I’m not going to be that parent who doesn’t let her child see his boyfriend.” She smiled warmly as Eddie relaxed once more.

“It’s...still very new,” Eddie whispered, clearing his throat just a little. “We- we’ve only been really dating for a few days. The first couple of weeks we just wanted to see if it would work without ruining our friendship and...it’s not.” His blush deepened. “Richie means a lot to me...like a lot a lot. You- you say he’s been crazy about me since he was fourteen? Maybe younger?” Maggie nodded. “Me too.”

Richie let out a groan, startling them both and Maggie moved to get up, “Well, you have our seal of approval, not that you ever needed it though.” She moved to the door. “Also, our home is always open to you Eddie, I hope you know that? I want you to know that you can come here whenever you want, whenever your life at home becomes too much.”

“T-Thank you...Maggie,” Eddie whispered and Maggie moved back across the room, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “You’re amazing.”

Maggie shook her head, finally heading back to the door, “No, I’m just a mother.” She winked and closed the door, walking back down the stairs to sit next to her husband again, who gave her a look.

“Everything okay?” Went asked once more and this time Maggie nodded her head.

“Everything is perfect, love. Everything is just perfect.”

* * * * *

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eddiekaspprak @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kat-ships-everything @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madi-artist @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @photoboothreddie @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @ransonelovebot @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @richietoizer @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @ultrapaninibred @vanity190 @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead

[watchoutforthefanfics]

hey, new follower here, can you recommend some reddie fanfiction? :) thank youuu

Hi, thank you so much for following <333.

I totally got you :))).

So I literally just went through my bookmarks on AO3 (they are going to be AO3 links).

Here we go:

all love ever does (begin again) by agustplz

[Post It Chapter Two]

It only takes three rings for Richie to pick up the phone. This is pretty standard for Richie. He’d told Eddie once that the first time his phone rings, he usually has to find it somewhere in the room. The second time it rings is when Richie sees the Caller ID, and if he picks up on the third ring, that means Richie likes whoever is at the other end. He’d found that infuriating when Richie first told him, and vividly remembers how he’d bitched about missing important opportunities if he was answering phone calls based on his mood. Right now, however, knowing that Richie is answering the phone because he wants to talk to Eddie brings nothing but total relief.

or: a moment of insecurity, a phone call, and a revelation

I don't need a plan if I've got your hand by iittaliia

[Teenagers]

”Okay, here goes”, Eddie says, takes a final deep breath before looking at Richie straight on and saying ”Richie, I’m gay.”

Richie feels his eyes widen and his breath get caught in his throat, while his heart misses a beat and million butterflies take flight in his stomach.

”You’re… gay?” he asks, like a fucking dumbass.

Or, Richie doesn't know what's the appropriate way to receive and share news.

one touch (but you felt enough) by zach_stone

[Post It Chapter Two]

“Should we do something for Valentine’s Day?”

Eddie’s been wanting to ask for weeks now, the thought simmering as the holiday drew closer, but he had planned to work it in a bit more smoothly than just blurting it out mid-Facetime call.

Or, Eddie and Richie have been dating for two months. Eddie wants to make their first Valentine's together perfect.

A Light Shove by Bewitching Notes

[Modern College!AU]

Eddie let out a huff of irritation when the man ignored him for the third time. "Would you move, you asshole!?" He shouted probably louder than he should've in the library, and practically shoved the guy aside with his hip.

The man stumbled and looked at Eddie with wide eyes full of alarm, mouth agape in shock, as if Eddie hadn't asked him to move at least three times in the last minute.

Eddie opened his mouth to yell at him again, only to pause when he saw the hearing aids resting in the man's ears.

Ah, shit.

OR: Eddie just wanted to grab some reference books for his class, and deaf Richie Tozier just happened to be standing exactly in front of the books he needed.

In Eddie's defense, he wouldn't have yelled or shoved the guy if he'd known he was deaf.

Honest.

Subpoenaed by Padmedala

[Post It Chapter Two]

“So,” Eddie starts. “Myra’s lawyers are probably going to subpoena you.”

“What? Why?”

Eddie is quiet for another long moment, then he blurts out. “They think we’re having an affair.”

Richie forces out a laugh. “Why would they think that?”

(In which the Losers' Club has to convince a divorce lawyer that Richie and Eddie aren't having an affair, which is a little difficult because they are in love with each other.)

But I Finally Made My Way Home by cortexikid

[Post It Chapter Two]

“Oh Richard really, I wasn’t born yesterday. You and Eddie are hardly subtle. You never were.”

Richie blinked at his mom.

“What?”

Maggie rolled her eyes.

"There’s no need to hide it from me, sweetheart. I’ve known you two would end up together since you were ten years old. You can tell me."

His heart leaped into his throat.

“Tell you...what?”

“That you’re dating.”

Richie short-circuited.

“Ma, me and Eddie are not dating.”

could it be you by eddiespaghetti

[Post It Chapter Two]

“I hate you so much,” Eddie mumbles, turning onto his back with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Well I sure hope not, Eds, because that would make this wedding we’ve got today real awkward.”

Richie and Eddie get married.

Coffee Shop Mix-Up by Hakoneecchi

[Modern College!AU]

Eddie pulls an all-nighter and is rudely awakened by his best friend, Beverly to get coffee. What follows is a mix up and attempts at getting free drinks. Maybe even a date along the way. Clearly nothing Eddie ever expected to happen on a Monday morning.

Or, Eddie is half asleep and holds hands with two strangers for a coffee fix and ends up getting himself a date.

diners, drive-ins, and dives by anemicaxolotl

[Post It Chapter Two]

Trashmouth: did u know ur only like 40 min from the sopranos diner

Spaghetti Man: Hi did you know you’re about ten years too late to find that cool?

Or: Richie takes Eddie to all the best diners, drive-ins, and dives he knows. It turns out it's surprisingly easy to share confessions in these kinds of places.

I see you in a different way by seeingrightly

[Post It Chapter Two]

“What do they tell you?” Eddie asks, his voice rising in pitch and volume, his eyebrows rising, too, like he’s offended.

Richie aches with how that makes him feel. He hopes it isn’t showing on his face, although… it might not matter anymore. Maybe it could be okay if it did.

“All kinds of shit,” Richie says. “Some of it is just the normal stuff you say to break up with someone you weren’t really dating in the first place. Like, you know, ‘This has been fun!’”

Richie affects the least honest tone he can manage, pasting on a fake smile.

“You’re fun,” Eddie says, crossing his arms.

And I do have a considerable amount I've written, if you want to check it out. No pressure though!!!

[desiraypark]

An Old Friend

Characters: Adam Sackler x Original Character (Black Female/Femme)  OC: Katrina “Trina” Santos - described as petite (particularly short, not necessarily thin) and having been quiet and introverted when they were young. Storytelling purpose: Adam thinks he’s about to turn her out and toss her around like a dodgeball. Content: Chile. Take a wild guess. Licky-licky; pokey-pokey; sucky-sucky. Additional CW: Dirty talk; a tad bit of name-calling; Adam shoves that spray can down OC’s throat and OC guzzles that Reddi Whip.  Author’s Note: I still haven’t actually watched a full episode of Girls lol. YouTube clips and Girls Wiki have been my friends. Word Count: 2,829

Adam stood outside of the bar, took a deep breath, and walked in. He maneuvered through a small group that was just standing in the middle of the floor for some fucking reason, and sat down. The bartender was way on the other end.  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said. Adam nodded his acknowledgement, and used the time to think about what he wanted. “Adam?” a little voice called to him. He looked in the direction it came from--two seats to his left. A vaguely familiar girl with curly hair and gold hoop earrings that complemented her gold eyeglasses smiled at him. “Trina...Santos...” Adam blinked and shook his head a little, trying to adjust his vision. The last time he saw Katrina Santos...well, it was in a cap and gown. But before then, she always wore hoodies, jeans, Jordans and round, black eyeglasses. She rarely wore makeup or even jewelry. And she definitely didn’t talk much. 

Now, she was sitting at the bar with her hair out, gold jewelry placed wherever jewelry could go--wearing red lipstick, that contour or highlight shit that girls wore now, and had a set of jugs partially on display.  “No fucking way,” he said. “Trina?!”  He slid over to the empty seat beside her and gave her a hug. “How are you?” “I’m doing fine,” she replied. She looked down at her half-empty pint glass. “Well, kinda.”  She got a good look at his face. He still looked the same, yet so different at the same time. His hair was longer and his body bulkier. 

“You still live in Brooklyn?” he asked. “No. Harlem now.” Her head tilted a little. She suddenly remembered that Adam had a drinking problem in high school. She cleared her throat, not daring to question him.

“I’ve seen you on TV a few times. I’ve heard about you being on the stage. I’m glad you stuck with theatre. You were so good in school.” “What’ll you have?” the bartender asked. Adam’s head shot up in his direction and he gave the decision deep thought. He felt Trina’s eyes on him, too.  “Club soda with lime.” The bartender nodded and fixed up his drink. “So, what are you doing now? Are you still a shy poet?”  Trina scoffed and chuckled. “Still shy. A poet sometimes.” The bartender handed Adam his drink.  “I work as a reading specialist now. At an elementary school,” Trina added. “That doesn’t surprise me,” Adam said. He took a sip of his drink. Trina felt butterflies in her stomach. She didn’t expect Adam to remember things about her.  “So, what brought you here?” he asked. Trina looked down at her watch. “I’m supposed to be on a date. But I guess I missed the new rule where only one person actually shows up at the meetup spot.” “Wow. Did you call him?”  “Of course. Called, text. No response.”  “Damn. What a dick,” Adam said. 

Trina finished off her drink, then held up her hand. “It is what it is. C’est la vie; que sera, sera. All that stuff.” Adam twirled the straw in his club soda. 

“So, what’s been going on with you?” she asked. Adam looked back at her. “Oh, working. I’m rehearsing for a play right now. Off-Broadway...” “That’s great,” Trina said warmly. “But what I meant was...what’s got you ready to fall off the wagon?” Suddenly, there was silence between them. Beyond them was the chatter of strangers, the sound of liquid being sucked through straws, and easy listening music. Adam looked down at the bubbles in his drink. “My girlfriend broke up with me.” Trina rubbed Adam’s arm. “I’m sorry to hear that...” “I’m fine. It was understandable. Might even say it was karma.” “Oh?” “Yeah...” 

He looked up at Trina’s empathetic face. “But let’s talk about something else. What time was your date supposed to be here?”  She looked down at her watch again. “An hour ago. But I’ll be honest, I was more so hoping to get laid than to make a connection. So, no broken heart tonight. Just a dry puss.” Adam chuckled and shifted in his seat.  “I’m sorry, that was so vulgar,” Trina said, laughing to herself.  “No, I get it.” Lust filled Adam’s eyes. Trina caught them, and cleared her throat. “It just sucks that I got all dressed up for nothing,” she said. Adam used her statement as an excuse to give her another once over. She hadn’t gotten any taller since high school. The only difference between then and now, was that then, she was short and relatively thin. Now, she was short and had a little...umph. “Wanna grab something to eat? Keep the night from being a total waste?” he asked.  Trina gave her watch another glance. “Sure. Why not?” Adam paid for both of their drinks, and they walked toward the door. He held the door open and Trina turned around just in time to catch him looking at her ass. He met her eyes with haste.  “You remember Vinny’s?” he asked. Trina smirked. “Of course.” She started walking and Adam’s long legs quickly pulled him to her left side, protecting her from the street they were actually yards away from. Their shoes hitting the pavement were the only sounds they heard. Finally, Trina looked up at Adam. “Do you live nearby?” she asked. “Yeah...two blocks away...” Trina nodded. Adam could sense the tension that suddenly fell over her. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet, then noticed her little feet. Red-painted toes in gold, high-heeled sandals. He looked back up at their path, and suddenly, she stopped walking. Adam stopped, too. “Do you wanna fuck?” she asked.  Adam smirked, took her hand, and led her in the opposite direction. Trina giggled as he led her through people, around a corner, and down a couple of blocks until they reached his building. Still not letting go of her hand, he unlocked his door, pulled her inside, and held her face in his hands. Then, he devoured her mouth. “It’s dark in here,” she whispered. Next thing she knew, she was being pulled into a bedroom. Adam flicked on the light and started kissing her again.  “I say some crazy shit in bed sometimes,” he said, pulling just centimeters away from her mouth. “I do some crazy shit. Sometimes.” “You do?” he asked. He nudged her against his door, making it slam shut, then reached under her dress to pull her panties down. “I do.” Adam beamed like a kid in a candy store, and as the panties went down, he went down with them--falling to his knees. When Trina stepped out of her panties, he wasted no time covering her clit with his lips.  “Oh!” she cried, grabbing his door knob. Adam tapped on her calf and she widened the distance between her legs. She watched his head movements as she felt the tip of his tongue exploring her clit. He looked up at her--the light from his ceiling managing to hit his face just enough to reveal his dilated pupils and the many moles and freckles on his face. She ran her fingers through his hair. “You look so good with your face in my pussy,” she said.  Adam’s dick twitched and he pulled his mouth away to say, “Fuck.” Using his thumbs, he spread her lips open to get complete access to her pussy--already glistening. Then, he dove back in--flicking her clit with his the point of his tongue. He sucked and licked it, and spread her juices on his mustache. Her moans resonated throughout the room, and suddenly, he pulled away again and shoved two of his fingers inside of her. “Fuck!” she shouted. Her knees wobbled from the shock and force of the sensation, but Adam pushed his free hand against her belly--nearly adhering her to the door. “I’m gonna make you come all over my fingers, and then I’m gonna stretch this little cunt open with my cock,” he said, massaging her velvety walls with his big fingers.  “Please, Adam. I fuckin’ need it so bad...” “I don’t know whose been in this pussy since I last saw you, but I’m gonna make you forget they fucking existed...” Trina squeezed the doorknob and scratched at the wood of his door, unable to escape his hold.  He pulled his fingers out, sucked them, then jammed them back in, making Trina squeal and back her ass into the door--desperate for some relief. He splayed his fingers across her abdomen, holding her down even more, and pressed the fingers in her pussy in deeper--as deep as they could go. 

Then, he curled them upward--rubbing the roof of her pussy with moderate “come hither” strokes and not taking his eyes off her face for a second. Trina grabbed his hair and pressed her fingers into his scalp.  Soon, her eyes started to roll back, and Adam grinned. Her grip on his scalp tightened and her mouth dropped, but no sound came out. Adam felt her pussy tighten around his fingers, and suddenly, liquid gushed out of her and all over his hand.  “Fuck yeah,” he said, gritting his teeth. He kept pumping into her. “Give me some more. Give me some fucking more...” 

He stuck a third finger inside and rubbed against her spot again. “Ahhhh!” Trina cried out, flailing about and squirting all over the place. 

“Fuck, Adam, fuck! Stop, stop!” Adam pulled his fingers out and sat back on his knees, watching Trina grip his doorknob and gasp for air. He watched like it was a movie. When she seemed to be calming down, he stood up, kicked off his shoes and undid his pants. Trina looked up at him and pressed her back against the door. She tugged at the skirt of her dress and pulled it over her head, revealing a lacy bra that matched the panties on the floor. Then, she dipped her hand between her thighs, collected some of her cum, and stuck four wet fingers into her mouth.  “Fuck,” Adam grumbled. He took wide steps to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a condom. Then, he sat on the side of his bed and pulled his pants and boxers down, revealing a hard, veiny, and mouth-watering dick. Trina joined him on the bed, lifted her leg, and reached for the fastener on her shoe. “Keep them on,” he demanded. 

He kicked his pants and boxers away, and Trina put her foot back down. She lied back on the bed and teased her nipples. While getting glances back at her, Adam opened the condom wrapper, tossed it onto the nightstand, and slid the latex sheath over his length. Then, he got on top of her, pushed her legs open, knelt between them, and lined himself up at her entrance. “Give me that dick, Adam,” she mumbled, gyrating her hips under him. Adam pressed about an inch of himself inside, getting a good feel of her wetness. Then, with one swift motion, he buried all of himself inside, causing her to strain out a moan and grip the sheets.  “What a fucking slut you turned out to be,” he said. “So hungry for some dick in you.” He pushed her legs back and got a good look at the limbs--the calves; the band over her ankles; the gold stiletto sandals in the air, then he drilled deep inside of her--moaning just as she was in reaction to her slick walls. “You like my pussy, Adam?” she asked. His dick twitched inside of her. “Yeah, I fuckin’ like it...” “Does it feel good?” “Fuck yeah, it feels good. You like my cock in you?” “Yes, baby. It feels so good in me,” Trina moaned. “And you’re taking it so well, too. Look at you...” he mumbled.

Trina grabbed her breasts and began massaging them. “Move your hands,” he said. “I wanna see those pretty tits bouncing.” “I wanna play with them,” she said, refusing to remove her hands.  Adam yanked his dick out and smacked the side of her thigh. “Get on your hands and knees.” Trina pouted and flipped over, resting on her hands and knees as told. Adam pushed her further down on the bed and smacked her ass cheek. He realigned at her entrance and pushed deep into her. Then, he wrapped his arm around her belly and pulled her up, making the back of her body flush with his front. He fucked up into her slow and deep. “When I tell you to do something, you’d better fucking do it,” he whispered in her ear. He gave the lobe a little bite and snapped into her one hard time. “Understood?” Trina didn’t answer. Suddenly, she felt a hand moving up her neck and grabbing her jaw. He gave it a squeeze. “Understood?”  “Yes,” Trina answered breathlessly. Adam pushed her back down on the bed, grabbed her wrists with one hand and held them back as he picked up his pace--thrusting into her and seemingly finding a new spot to probe and explore with each stroke. The mental stimulation that came with having her hands behind her back, and the physical stimulation of her walls being stroked--it all made her clench down on his dick without thought. Her pussy didn’t want to let Adam’s dick go. “Are you trying to make me come?” Adam asked, with a hint of “I dare you to say yes” in his voice. Trina turned her head to the side. “Are you about to come?” she asked playfully. “No,” Adam answered sternly. He began to fuck her harder. 

“Hey, you shut the fuck up, you little tease,” he added, a delayed reaction to her slyness.  Trina giggled and squeezed on his dick again. “Just come, Adam. Just come. You know you want to.” Adam was quiet as he pounded into her a few more times. “Fuck it!” he said to himself. He pulled his dick out and yanked off the condom. Trina sat on her butt and watched him tug on his dick. Then, she moved his hand away, wrapped her lips around the head, and sucked him off. She stroked his length and covered it with puddles and strings of saliva, giving him no choice but to grab her head and push it down, making her gag. “That’s right. Choke on that shit.” She looked up at him with watery eyes. Her lipstick had smeared onto the side of her mouth. “You look beautiful like this. Wish I had a fucking camera so I could take a picture of you.” He pulled her head back, then pushed it back down. 

Garrrrrm! her stuffed mouth said. “No, I wish I had a fucking Polaroid camera. I’d take a picture of you like this and jerk off to it whenever my cock gets fucking hard. Shoot my cum on the fucking picture.” He released his grip on her head, and let her keep working on her own. 

Trina slathered his dick up with her hot saliva and massaged his balls. Then, she began to stroke him as she sucked, slurping and tugging as he moaned and groaned over her.  “I’m about to come right down your fucking throat. You ready for it?” “Mm-hmm,” Trina moaned. She sucked and stroked him harder and faster, until suddenly, she felt his load squirt into her mouth, and she swallowed it down. Adam moaned and whimpered, and fucked into her mouth with shallow strokes, riding out his orgasm. As he came down from his high, he quickly realized that Trina was still sucking him.  “Shit, stop Trina,” he mumbled.  Trina looked up at him with dilated pupils and a mouth still stuffed with dick. She hollowed her cheeks out and sucked him at a rapid pace--putting her neck to work. “Trina, fuck!” he said. 

His knees began to shake, but Trina kept sucking. She rested her hands on his thighs and slurpslurpgarmgarm’d the sensitive meat. She laughed to herself as Adam’s moans went from baritone to alto. As he reached out and grabbed his mattress to soften his imminent fall, Trina maneuvered in whatever necessary direction to keep his dick in her mouth. When he finally made his way down, she hovered over his crotch with her ass in the air, and sucked and sucked and sucked--even as he did the hokey-pokey with his legs and growled like a tiger. 

Finally, she gave the poor guy some relief, pulled her mouth away, gave his dick a slap. Then, she tossed a leg over him and hovered over his red face. His eyes were glistening and wide.

“Should have just let me play with my nipples, Adam.” He laughed between the breaths he was trying catch. Then his eyes fell down to her breasts. He gripped and kneaded them a little, then lifted his head to draw one of her nipples into his mouth.

[octoberobserver]

For the kids prompts, Can you do 45 and Reddie?

Hi Nonnie! Of course, I’m happy to fill 45. Thanks so much for the ask 😊 hope you like it ♥️

45) Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.

Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman too

“You wanna fill me in on why you’ve been a grade-A asshole all night, Eddie?”

Richie was pissed. More pissed than Eddie could ever remember him being.

And it was all his fault.

Not that he’d admit it

He took his time hanging up his coat, staring doggedly at it and ignoring Richie’s piercing gaze burning a hole into the side of his head.

“I don’t know what you’re—

“Oh cut the crap, Kaspbrak, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Richie practically growled, shirking off his jacket, draping it over the couch and throwing his keys onto the coffee table instead of the key holder in the exact way he knew drove Eddie up the wall.

Eddie did in fact know what he was talking about. His sour mood had not gone unnoticed among some of Richie’s associates the entire latter half of the evening. It hung over him like a dark cloud as he grew quiet and withdrawn, excluding when he threw more than a few barbed comments at one of the particularly obnoxious attendees.

But Eddie was never the type to give in this early on in an argument. Well, unless it was against his ex-wife back when they were miserably married and he just gave her her way to avoid having to talk for long periods of time. With his best friend/roommate, though? He only dug his heels in deeper. Always had. Since the day they met in third grade.

“No Richie, I don’t know,” he replied through a clenched jaw, snatching up the keys and depositing them in the little dish by the door, where they were meant to go, “why don’t you enlighten me?”

Richie stormed into the kitchen, wrenching open the fridge door roughly and pulling out a beer, twisting the cap off and angrily guzzling it.

Eddie watched him, a spike of irritation beginning to form under his skin.

Richie’s infuriation was infectious.

“Don’t throw the—”

The words died in Eddie’s throat as he watched Richie fling the bottle cap towards the garbage can like he did most nights, despite nine times out of ten missing the shot by a mile.

The cap bounced off the lid and clinked to the floor.

Eddie saw red.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Richie! Why do you always—”

“Were you jealous?”

Eddie blinked.

The atmosphere in the room began to shift.

Heat rushed up his neck, to his cheeks as Richie tilted his head, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why would I be jealous?” Eddie asked, gaze lowered as he bent down to pick up the bottle cap. “You’re entitled to flirt with whoever you want.”

Richie snorted, and even though Eddie couldn’t see his face, he knew he was rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t flirting with him, Eds. He was flirting with me.”

Eddie’s entire body tensed as he straightened up, shuffling over to the trash can and muttering over his shoulder, “Whatever. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or something.”

He could feel Richie’s stare piercing into the back of his head as he continued, “We…we’re just best friends who get each other off, Rich. And that…that can change whenever you want.”

A beat of silence met those words.

Eddie refused to turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He couldn’t decipher anything in Richie’s voice, it sounded almost robotic, but a dart of pain shot through Eddie’s chest, right under his scar anyway as he tried to prepare himself for what he had to say next.

“It means…” he began as evenly as he could, moving across the kitchen to get a glass, his back still turned, “if you wanna date, or…or fuck other dudes, or whatever…have at it. We’ll…we’ll stop this…” he waves a hand over his shoulder to where he estimated Richie was standing, “arrangement. No questions asked.”

Because if anything was obvious to Eddie after seeing him flourish tonight, it was that Richie…he deserved more. More than their little arrangement allowed. And Eddie would be damned if he held him back from that for his own selfish reasons.

Another silence followed his words. He had to turn around sometime. He knew that.

He managed to delay it just a little longer by walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet, resting his palms on the counter, hunching his shoulders, making no move to fill his glass. The rush of water almost drowned out Richie’s quiet reply, barely above a whisper.

“Do you wanna stop, Eddie?”

Hell no.

It had all begun three months earlier when Richie accidentally walked in on Eddie ‘punchin’ the upside down clown,’ as Richie so fondly called it. Their eyes had locked, Richie frozen in shock, Eddie in embarrassment. Richie could have hightailed it outta there, they could have brushed it off, marked it down as one of the hazards of being roommates and maybe, after a time, even laughed about it. Instead, Eddie had choked out Richie’s name, his cock still gripped in hand, so impossibly hard as Richie’s eyes began to lower.

They had just watched each other, breaths ragged as Eddie’s hand began to move, slowly at first, then gradually speeding up, pumping his cock hard, over and over and over, a surge of confidence flowing in him that was fuelled by Richie drinking in his every move, until his orgasm started to rake through him, causing him to cry out and begin to come all over his stomach.

That had lit a fire under Richie, he scrambling over to the bed and dropping to his knees, his giant hand covering Eddie’s, squeezing and moving in time with his jerks.

“Shit, fuck—Richie,” Eddie gasped, his voice broken as they pulled the last of orgasm from him together.

“Eds—I—can I…?”

Eddie had nodded, happy to grant him anything, whatever he could possibly want in that moment.

Turned out, what Richie had wanted was his mouth around Eddie’s dick.

Wildly, all Eddie could think as Richie’s head lowered to his lap was how Dick wants my dick.

He almost passed out when the wet heat enveloped him, hissing a little as his over-sensitive nerves tingled.

“R-Richie, oh my god,” he wheezed, his hand reaching up and clawing at his hair, pulling it tightly through his fingers.

Richie groaned, the vibration heading straight to Eddie’s cock and causing his back to arch off the bed.

It was then that Eddie realised three things.

One, the hand currently buried in Richie’s hair was covered in Eddie’s come, it smeared into his locks in a way that should have had Eddie recoiling in disgust, but instead sent a bolt of arousal through him, despite his exhaustion. Two, Richie’s mouth was ridiculously talented—the type of talented that could get a 41 year old man’s refractory period shaved significantly down—holy shit. Eddie may never call him a Trashmouth ever again after this. And three, Richie was rock hard. His erection pressing into Eddie’s side from where he kneeled along the bed.

At that revelation, Eddie’s free hand had wandered almost unbeknownst to himself, out to cup Richie through his pants, causing him to jump in surprise, his mouth pulling off Eddie’s dick with a pop that had him shivering.

They stared at one another, Eddie marvelling at Richie’s plump, crimson-stained lips that had a bead of Eddie’s come gathered in the crease of his mouth.

A beat passed where their eyes met, they on a knife-edge, the precipice of something unknown.

Then Eddie squeezed his hand a little tighter, causing Richie’s breath to hitch.

And the rest…was history.

It became a regular thing, then. Just them…tending to each other whenever they needed it. Quick hand jobs before Richie had to meet with an exec, sloppy blowjobs to celebrate Eddie’s promotion and Richie’s Netflix deal and one very memorable rim-job on the eve of Eddie’s one year ‘death-day.’

They hadn’t talked about it much. But they had unwritten rules.

One — don’t talk about Fight Club. AKA The Arrangement.™ So no spilling the beans to any of the Losers.

Two — don’t talk about Fight Club. Seriously. If the Losers found out they would be un-fucking-bearable and put a screeching halt to the most (and best) sex either of them had had in years. (Maybe ever.)

Three — no kissing. Eddie had deemed that a step over the line. Which, Richie had easily countered with, “Oh, so you can have my tongue in your ass, but not your mouth? Some logic ya got there, Eds.” But Eddie wouldn’t budge. So Pretty Woman rules it was.

And Four — no fourth base, going all the way, the whole enchilada, whatever you wanna call it.

They both agreed that that would definitely be over the line.

And so, with those firm set of rules alá Fight Club and Pretty Woman in play, Eddie and Richie made it work, it somehow slotting almost seamlessly into their daily lives, their friendship and cohabitation hardly changing at all.

Until Eddie’s green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, of course.

Except…that isn’t exactly true, is it? You were compromised from the start, asswipe.

Eddie ignored his inner-voice that sounded irritatingly like a thirteen-year-old Trashmouth as he shoved his glass under the water, letting it fill.

“That Eric guy seemed pretty into you,” he murmured, pivoting from the question as he shut off the faucet, “it would probably be a good idea to uh…call off The Arrangement if you wanted to call that number on your hand.”

He turned, then. Just in time to see Richie blink in surprise.

Yeah. Eddie had seen the exact moment the hot, young blond had reached across and playfully tugged on Richie’s hand, scrawling something onto the palm of it. It didn’t take a genius to know what.

“Eric’s a kid,” Richie snorted as Eddie’s eyes finally met his.

“He’s 29.”

“Exactly. He’s a millennial.”

“Your new fan base is made up of mostly millennials, Richie. And Gen Z’ers,” Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing the kitchen and realising in his haste that he had left his water but was too stubborn to turn back, trudging on towards the living room.

Only to have his way blocked by the garish, tuxedo T-shirt that Richie had insisted on wearing to his press junket despite Beverly desperately pleading with him no to. In compromise, she had designed him a very sexy faux-leather jacket that highlighted the breadth of his shoulders very nicely.

Not that Eddie noticed, or anything.

Liar liar pants on—

He slowly raised his gaze, eyebrows furrowing as he saw an enigmatic expression cross Richie’s face.

“That Ron guy seemed pretty into you.”

Eddie frowned.

“You mean Ross?”

“Whatever,” Richie waved a hand dismissively, his eyes bouncing around the room, “he was flirting up a storm with you at the bar.”

Eddie snorted, “Ross was just being friendly, Richie. He saw that I was on my own when you were—”

“He was flirting with you, Eddie. He couldn’t have been more obvious than if he shoved a rose between his teeth and asked you to tango.”

Eddie’s lips, the traitors, twitched at that. He cleared his throat.

“I’m pretty sure I know when someone is flirting with me, Richie.”

“Really?” Richie scoffed, the pitch of his voice climbing as he threw up his hands in exasperation, “see, I don’t think you do, Eds. Fuck, I’ve been flirting with you since 1986 and look where—”

He cut himself off abruptly, but it was too late.

Eddie watched as Richie froze, his eyes as wide as saucers behind his glasses.

His heart began to race.

“You…what? Rich—”

“Nothing, forget it,” Richie held up his hands in surrender and that’s when Eddie caught it.

The remnants of a dark smudge.

Eric’s phone number.

Or what used to be his number anyway.

Eddie’s own hands shot out before he knew what was happening, both grasping the larger hand and tugging it closer.

“Did you rub it off?”

He kept his gaze carefully trained on Richie’s palm as he heard his breath hitch.

“…maybe.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t wanna get ink poisoning—why the fuck do you think, Eddie?”

His grip tightened around Richie’s fingers as his eyes slowly lifted.

They stared at one another, the silence ringing loud in the kitchen.

“I…” Eddie floundered, desperately wracking his brain for some words to form a coherent sentence.

Don’t get your hopes up, Kaspbrak. You know how that always ends.

Richie must have taken his hesitance for a dismissal however as he heaved a heavy sigh and began pulling out of his grasp.

“Forget it, Eds, I’m tired and a little tipsy. I’m just gonna go to—”

“I was jealous.”

Richie stilled, his eyes darting back to Eddie’s, his hand still firmly in his grip.

“You were?”

Eddie heart hammered against his rib cage so hard he felt it might burst out of his chest Alien-style any second now.

What the fuck are you doing, dickwad?! This is not a part of The Arrange—

“Yeah, Richie, I was. Am. Jealous,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, squeezing Richie’s hand tight as he forced himself to continue. “I—that guy was hot and young and I’m not and—”

Richie closed the space between them, crowding Eddie back against the kitchen counter, bending his knees to catch Eddie’s eye.

“Eddie, trust me when I say this, man. You were the hottest person in that entire bar tonight.”

Eddie let out a loud snort, refusing to meet his stare.

“Yeah righ—”

Fingers clasped his scared cheek, forcing his head up.

His breath stuttered at the sheer sincerity in Richie’s eyes.

“I’m serious, Eds. I could barely take my eyes off you all night. I—all I kept thinking about was getting you home and…” he trailed off, his hand breaking from Eddie’s face to drag down his neck, chest, stomach, to finally rest, feather-light on his belt.

A bolt of arousal shot through Eddie’s abdomen.

Along with his mouth, Richie had very, very talented hands too.

But they were getting off track.

Shaking his head, Eddie forced his foggy, horny brain back online, stepping around Richie and trying to catch his breath. This was important, he couldn’t get sidelined with the promise of sex. He had known that this was a long time coming, pretty much ever since they started in the first place.

All good things must come to an end. Literally and figuratively…

“We need to call it off, Richie.”

He watched as Richie’s shoulders sagged, his entire body deflating like a balloon as he drained the last of his beer and shuffled across to the recycling, avoiding Eddie the entire way.

“Okay, Eds. If that’s what you want. Consider Fight Club disbanded.”

There was that almost robotic voice again. Completely void of emotion. So very hard to read.

“It’s…it’s not what I want,” Eddie found himself admitting before he could think better of it, “but it’s what you need, Rich. What you deserve.”

Richie whirled around suddenly, brow furrowed, eyes shining bright.

“What I deserve ? The fuck does that mean?”

Eddie sighed, not wanting to have to explain himself further but knowing he had to. Shrugging, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.

“You just…you deserve more than my dry hand-jobs and amateur blow-jobs, man. I—I know when we started this it was a way for us to blow off some steam but…you’re out and proud and deserve so much more than our arrangement. So much more than what I…”

He trailed off, eyes lowering.

“I just want what’s best for you, Rich.”

And it’s not me.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might already have what’s best for me?”

Richie didn’t sound robotic, anymore. Now he sounded downright incredulous.

“Uh—”

“No, ‘course it didn’t,” he continued, stepping closer, ducking his head to catch Eddie’s eye, “‘cause instead of asking me, you just went ahead and decided you knew what was best for me. But you’re wrong, Eds. So fucking wrong I—I don’t even know where to begin explain—”

He cut himself off, tilting his head to the ceiling as if asking the heavens for help. Which, for Richie, was really saying something.

Shit.

“Why were you jealous, Eds?”

Richie’s voice was small, now. Resigned. As if fearful of his answer.

“Was it—was it that a hot, young blond was flirting with me and not you?” he asked, tilting his head back down from the ceiling and staring straight into his soul, laser-focussed.

“Or was it that I was flirting with a hot, young blond and not you?”

Eddie’s heart leapt into his throat.

“I thought you weren’t flirting?” he gasped out, biting his bottom lip.

Richie let out an awful, humourless laugh, his eyes shining in a way that had Eddie’s stomach twisting painfully.

“Okay. Okay, Eddie,” he held up his hands again, taking several steps backwards, out towards the living room, “I hear you loud and clear. Say no more,” he paused, sounding more resigned than Eddie had ever heard him, lifting his shoulder in a one-armed shrug, “‘S like you said. We’re just best friends who get each other off. That can change whenever you want. I get it. Good night.”

Eddie watched as he turned on his heel and began walking out of the room.

“I was jealous that he was flirting with you and laughing with you and…fucking touching you when that was all I wanted to do!”

Richie stopped dead in his tracks.

Eddie scrambled forward, his mouth running away from him, “I was so fucking pissed that some hot fucking himbo got to drape himself all over you, without a care in the world as if you were free and single because—”

The rest of his sentence lodged in his throat.

He swallowed, taking a deep breath, staring at the hard line of Richie’s shoulders, his heart samba drumming in his chest.

Well, you’ve come this far, Kaspbrak.

“Because I…I want you. All the time. Not—not just since The Arrangement. Since…shit, since I was a kid. And these last few months have given me just a taste of what life would be like if I could…if I could have you. And I…I hate that it’s just made me realise that I want more. Not just hand jobs and blow jobs here and there. I wanna…I wanna flirt with you in public, and flaunt you on my arm and…and fucking kiss you goodnight and good morning and just because I feel like it. I wanna sleep next to you and fuck you and get a fucking dog with you. I want all of it. All of you.”

A horrible, heavy silence followed his words, marred only by Eddie’s gasping breath as he fought to catch it. His heart sank lower and lower with each passing beat. He couldn’t ever remember a time that Richie had gone this long without making some kind of noise, so he did what any good risk analyst would do. He started mentally making contingency plans for how he could salvage their friendship.

I’ll move out immediately. Leave the group chat for a while. It’ll be awkward, but eventually we might be able to—

“Himbo?”

Eddie gaped as Richie finally turned around, staring wide at him, a small but definite smile on his face.

“W-What?”

Richie’s smile grew bigger.

“You called Eric a himbo. I didn’t think you kept up with today’s slang, Eds,” he tilted his head, apparently amused as he started to close the distance between them.

“Really?” Eddie groused, staring at him, “that’s your response to everything I just said? What the fuck, Rich—”

Lips crashed into his, a large hand clutching his cheek and another squeezing his hip, propelling him backwards, colliding them both into the kitchen counter. Eddie let out a rough ‘Oomph!’ but there was no way in hell he was breaking this kiss. Whose dumb idea was it to enforce Pretty Woman rules anyway? To withhold oneself from a mouth as talented as Richie’s? That was just fucking martyrdom.

The kiss was feverish, desperate as they clung to one another, knocking over various knick-knacks that Richie insisted on keeping on the kitchen counters, Eddie’s tongue tracing along Richie’s bottom lip, his teeth nipping just slightly. He sighed as Richie groaned, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss, his hands raking up and down Eddie’s body as if he couldn’t decide where to rest them. Eddie buried his own hands in Richie’s hair, clutching tightly, using the leverage to do a little pushing of his own, shoving him back against the kitchen table.

Richie let himself be manhandled, stumbling backwards, almost tripping over his own feet if Eddie didn’t have a firm grip on him. The back of his legs bumped up against the table with a soft thump. Eddie’s grip left Richie’s hair to fly to his waist, tightening as he urged him up. Richie took a second to get with the program, too preoccupied with sucking on Eddie’s tongue to do much else. But eventually, he scattered the place-mats and newspaper and stress-ball from off the table and he heaved himself up, arms reaching down to clasp the back of Eddie’s legs, lifting him up with him until he was kneeling, knees either side of his hips.

The kiss broke.

Their eyes met.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat when he saw moisture gathered behind Richie’s glasses as he stared at Eddie like he was the greatest gift he’d ever received.

“I’m in love with you, by the way,” Richie murmured, quietly but firmly, as if they were words he had long since lived with, “have been since I was twelve years old. In case that wasn’t clear.”

A little line formed between his eyebrows as he cleared his throat, “It’s—it’s okay, though. You don’t have to say it back or anything, I know it’s a lot and—”

“I’m in love with you too, dickwad. In case that wasn’t clear.”

They stared at one another, twin smiles gracing their faces before Richie leaned forward, capturing his lips once more.

This kiss was softer, slower, but god…

Eddie could feel thirty years of emotion flowing between them, as if Richie was pouring every ounce of pining, yearning, ache and love that he had ever felt for Eddie into it.

The burn of tears welled up behind his eyes as Richie’s hands clasped his cheeks, his thumb gently tracing his scar. They eventually had to break for air, but didn’t go far, their lips barely an inch apart as they heaved in breaths, until Eddie leaned forward again, pecking the tiniest of kisses against Richie’s mouth.

Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman rules.

Richie leaned up, returning the kiss that was more the pressing of smiles but still had Eddie’s stomach flipping with butterflies.

“God, Eds. I’ve wanted to kiss you practically my whole life.”

Eddie hummed, raking a hand through his hair and straightening his slightly askew glasses.

“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he sighed, resting their foreheads together, “I just…I just knew that kissing you would be too much. Would make me wish too much and hope too much and—”

“Me too,” Richie nodded, bumping their heads gently, practically going cross-eyed as he fought to keep eye contact, “you were right. I wouldn’t have coped with kissing you without constantly wanting more and hating myself for it. Even though I did anyway. Always have,” he laughed a little self-deprecatingly, “but ya know, I’m used to that.”

Eddie’s heart panged.

“Fucking Derry.”

“Fucking Derry,” Richie agreed.

“Dumb Eddie.”

“No,” Richie shook his head, leaning back to properly look at Eddie, “not dumb at all, Eds. We—that shithole fucked both of us up, right? All seven of us. So, don’t feel dumb about not picking up on my giant heartboner for you back in the day, alright? I…I did everything in my power to hide it ‘cause I was scared shitless. Homophobic clowns and Bowers, you know? And now…now we’re so fucking repressed I still marvel we managed to con ourselves into The Arrangement in the first place.”

Eddie snorted, silently agreeing until that snort turned into a groan, this one of discomfort as his knees gave a painful twinge.

“We’re too old to fool around on the kitchen table, Rich…” he breathed, his breath bouncing off Richie’s mouth, “my knees are fucking killing me.”

Richie huffed out a laugh, squeezing his hips and nudging him back down to the ground and shuffling to stand up himself.

“Fuck!” He hissed as his thigh roughly collided with the leg of one of the chairs, knocking it over with a clatter.

“As graceful as ever, Rich,” Eddie teased, reaching down to gently rub his palm along the back of Richie’s thigh, a small smirk spreading across his face.

“If you take me to bed, I can kiss it better. And other places too.”

Richie Tozier had never moved so fast in his entire life. And that included the time he was chased by a murderous space clown.

They collectively collided with no less than four pieces of furniture, one novelty-sized pencil that Richie insisted on keeping in the hallway, and tripped over a copy of Bill’s new book before they made it to bed. But that just meant there was more to kiss better.

They were allowed to do that, now. Kiss and so much more.

And all because they stopped living their lives using the ‘logic’ of two dumb ‘90s movies.

Read my other friends-with-benefits Reddie fic here

@tinyarmedtrex @reddiegays @richietoaster @and-thats-when-she-snapped

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + accidental fake dating | part two |

Usually, Eddie hated sleeping in. He liked to get in a morning run before heading off to work. But something about being in L.A with his best friend, rather than New York with his ex-wife, and the fact he was currently on leave from work thanks to a killer clown claw, he figured he was owed an extra hour or two. He stretched and yawned, opening his eyes to find a post-it note stuck to his forehead. Rolling his eyes, Eddie removed the message from his head, reading it fondly.

hey, bud. gone to get breakfast. relax, take it easy. I’ll be back soon. rx

He smiled affectionately and carefully climbed out of bed, wincing from the effort. He and Richie had been living together ever since they’d Derry, once Eddie had resolved to divorce his wife and get on with his life. Richie had suggested they live together through his recovery and Eddie had been so relieved that he wasn’t going to be on his own, he agreed. Things were great. Richie was a better roommate than he’d expected. He helped Eddie with his physical therapy, make sure he took his (genuine) medication and generally took care of him. Eddie felt like he was getting his life back and it was all thanks to the best friend he was hopelessly in love with. But that was a whole other problem he wasn’t ready to deal with.

Eddie was showered and fully dressed when his phone rang. He smiled already, thinking of Richie. He was more than a little surprised to see it was Maggie Tozier calling. They’d only met once since they’d returned from Derry and Eddie hadn’t really been in a fit state for visitors back then. Still, he answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Tozier.”

Of course, Maggie laughed softly, “Eddie, dear, we’re practically family. Call me Maggie.”

“Sorry. Old habits,” he eased himself into Richie’s comfortable La-Z-Boy - which was more his at the moment since it was the only thing he could handle right now. He tried not to sound pained as he asked, “how’s Went?”

“Oh, his hip’s playing up, poor thing,” Maggie said casually, “he’s been working on that damn car again. He’s only got himself to blame. But enough about us, how are you? Is Richie looking after you?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, Richie’s been amazing,” he smiled, absent mindedly stroking his t-shirt, underneath which was his healing wound, “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Maggie scoffed and Eddie could almost hear her eyes rolling, “that man adores you, Eddie. I thought he was going to burst when he told us you were moving in together, he was so happy,” Eddie paused, a slight frown on his face but he didn't say anything. Maggie didn’t seem to notice as she giggled, “now that you’re together, I guess I can tell you Richie always had a thing for you when you were kids. I can;t tell you the number of times...”

Maggie’s voice grew faint as Eddie’s mind wandered, deep in thought. It was clear she assumed that he and Richie were dating and had been for a little while. And Richie hadn’t corrected her. He was vaguely aware that Maggie had finished talking; Eddie swallowed, his throat dry.

“Huh?”

“All I’m saying is I’m just glad you two finally sorted things out. You’re perfect for each other. Anyone can see that,“ Maggie sounded so happy that her beloved son had finally found happiness, it broke Eddie’s heart that he wasn’t Richie’s actual real-life boyfriend. He wanted to be the one to make him that happy. But he wasn’t and he wasn’t about to burst Maggie’s bubble, either, so he kept his mouth shut. That was until she said, “so is Saturday okay?”

“Uh...for what?”

Maggie chuckled, “well, we figured we’d come and visit you two. Save you the journey, dear. They’ll be plenty of family gatherings at our place when you’re strong enough.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, Eddie found himself speaking before thinking, “thanks, Mom.”

"Oh, Eddie, darling don’t make me cry, I’ve just done my make up,” Maggie, too, sounded emotional but she was better at hiding it than Eddie, “we’ll see you at the weekend. Take care. Give Richie my best, tell him I’ll call him later.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

He hung up, staring at his phone. He barely had time to take in the large amount of information he’d just received as Richie barged in through the door, carrying four shopping bags in one hand and two takeaway coffees in the other.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called playfully, winking when he caught sight of Eddie reclining in his chair. Eddie rolled his eyes and reached for the lever so he could stand. Richie waved him off, “you stay put, Eds. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“Why, thank you, dear,” he emphasised the final word, expecting Richie to take the hint. Instead, the other man just bowed, blowing him a kiss as he began to unload bags of takeaway breakfast. Eddie shook his head fondly, “I spoke with Maggie just now.”

“Yeah? Lemme guess, Dad’s hip, something about that bitch Paula from the knitting circle and some supportive but misunderstood stuff about my new stand up?” Eddie chuckled as Richie put on his best Maggie Voice (which just sounded like The Old Lady), “’Richard, what’s a Netflix and where can I watch it?’“

Eddie took his coffee and portion of french toast and fresh fruit from Richie, suddenly realising how hungry he was, “actually, she mainly talked about us,” he watched carefully as Richie slowly finished dishing up his own, less healthy, breakfast. Eddie tucked into his own, avoiding looking directly at Richie, “she thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Richie didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t want his mother meddling in his love life, especially with the best friend he was stupidly in love with. He stopped stuffing his face long enough to say, “she’s been on about it for ages. I didn’t think she’d still be on that shit.”

"You didn’t correct her,” Eddie pointed out nonchalantly, watching Richie curiously. He lifted his head, blinking repeatedly at Eddie.

"You didn’t correct her.”

They continued staring at each other for the longest time, neither one daring to break the tension. It was out there now. Neither had corrected Maggie’s misunderstanding and now she was visiting under the assumption they were a couple. Eddie finally broke the awkward silence.

“I don’t want to lie to her.”

Richie almost choked on his coffee, “what, you want to be boyfriends?”

Rather than laugh at him, like Richie had expected, Eddie just shrugged, chasing a stray blueberry on his plate, “why not? It’s just for the weekend. After that, we can tell Maggie we decided we were better as friends or something. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Okay, if you’re sure you can resist all this,” Richie gestured at himself, grinning lecherously. Eddie laughed, easing himself to stand so he could put his plate in the dishwasher. He returned to Richie and, leaning forward as much as he was capable, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, whispering into his ear.

“I’ve had thirty years practice.”

It took a while for Richie’s brain to catch up with what had just happened. When he opened his eyes, Eddie had gone, probably off to his bedroom to get changed for swim. Richie shook his head, leaping up and following after his friend, “yo, Eds, what the fuck does that mean?”

[theres-a-goldensky]

32 Reddie Fic Recs

In honor of the joy I feel in finally getting out of this miserably terrible fucking year of my life, I thought I’d do something fun and make up a list of Reddie fic recs, since this has fandom has taken over my life recently. Strap in, friends. This is gonna be a long one.

These recs are in the order in which I read them. 

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part two - Reddie

Good Omens fic

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All fics are Reddie, all are complete.

** - denotes personal favorite

1. first love / late spring by vowelinthug - ~36,000 words, explicit - They both survive It, but not without some injuries, both physical and psychological. Richie takes Eddie to a secluded cabin to help him recover. And then they accidentally make a podcast. Nice slowburn, a good Richie characterization. I liked the conversations between the two of them, in particular one about Richie’s disdain for shoes that was pitch perfect.

The doctor’s evil eye is on both of them now. “Your friend is gonna be fine. Broken collarbone and a lot of blood loss, but the arm stays on, for now anyway.” Probably at the way Richie sags in relief so hard he groans in pain, the doctor stops looking so severe. “He’s a tough guy. I’ve never seen anyone regain consciousness from that much blood loss just to give me a full medical history.”

“Oh my god,” says Richie, covering his mouth. “I like him so much.”

Bill pats his shoulder in sympathy.

2. the fireworks that go off when you smile by zach_stone - ~10,000 words, teen - Post-movie the adult Losers, including Stan, go on a vacation together. There’s just lots of Richie staring at a wet, shirtless Eddie and pining.

Richie blinks at him, his stomach doing a fucking somersault, pinned under Eddie’s weirdly passionate stare. He swallows another mouthful of beer to stall for time, shifting his gaze away. Spread out before him, the lake looks like flat, black glass. “Jeez, is the risk analyst really telling me to ignore the risks? What’s the world coming to?” he manages to joke.

He expects Eddie to roll his eyes, to huff and lean away again, but he doesn’t. He says, still earnest, “I just think some things are worth the risk.”

And Richie doesn’t know  what  the fuck to do with that. He resolutely tells himself not to puke on Ben and Beverly’s porch, because he thinks if he did it would just be the words  I love Eddie Kaspbrak a hundred times over, all puddled on the slats of wood. He stands up rather abruptly. “I should go to bed,” he says, aware that he’s talking too loud, being too fucking obvious. “I’m jetlagged as fuck. Also maybe a little drunk.”

3. oh, i want the truth to be known by ShowMeAHero - ~7000 words, explicit - Richie sees Eddie die in the deadlights and then manages to save him at the last second, but It skewers him instead. I’m honestly not sure why there isn’t more fic with this premise, because Richie sacrificing his own safety for Eddie and then Eddie losing his shit is absolutely, 100% my jam.

The claw isn’t in Eddie’s chest. Instead, it’s in Richie’s, caught in his side, pinning him to the ground. He chokes on a scream, caught in his throat, and pushes at Eddie, just trying to get them away. He rolls into him, ripping Pennywise’s claw through his side to get away, but once he’s free, he’s scrambling into a half-stumble and dragging Eddie with him until they’re hidden under an outcropping of rock. His side is bleeding, he can feel it, and his entire fucking abdomen hurts, and, for a moment, it’s all he can process.

“Holy shit, Richie,” Eddie exclaims. The pain shuffles to the back of Richie’s mind so he can focus on Eddie instead. He sounds winded, but he’s fucking alive, unhurt and breathing and okay, and Richie huffs a laugh. He’s in so much fucking pain, but he can’t even figure out where it’s all originating from, and the only thought cycling through his brain is it’s okay, he’s okay, Eddie’s okay, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, over and over.

4. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright)  by buckyjerkbarnes - ~9,000 words, teen - Richie and the other Losers in the hospital after killing It, waiting for news on Eddie. Richie has a bit of a breakdown.

The ambulance ride had been the longest twenty minutes of Richie’s life. He'd tried not to get in the way of the EMTs who worked frantically to keep Eddie alive; who were far more patient with him than Richie likely deserved. By the time they'd rolled up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, Ben stamping his breaks as the rest of the Losers came to a grinding halt not fifteen yards away, Richie was still a sobbing mess. He couldn't see through the cracked lens of his glasses, and when Eddie, who had not opened his eyes or said a word since they were still in the sewers, was about to be wheeled out of sight, Richie made like a battering ram and lunged towards the pair of swinging doors.

“Sir!" An orderly yelped. "You can’t—!"

And Stan, who had materialized at Richie's elbow, told the orderly: "He's the husband."

5. ** It’s Hard to Tell Sometimes by gallopingmelancholia - ~21,000 words, explicit - Eddie divorces his wife and moves to LA to live with Richie. Richie promptly has like five emotional meltdowns over it. So much pining. So much. This is one of very few that has Eddie in the hospital for a realistic amount of time, which I appreciate. When writers have been hoping out of bed after a day or whatever, it really throws me out of the story.

“When can we see him?” Mike asks.

“He’s asleep, but we’ll send in a nurse when he wakes up. I wouldn’t expect it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He’s been through quite a lot, eleven hours of surgery, and is on a lot of pain medication.”

“Will he survive? What’s the percentage? He’ll want to know the probability, he’s a risk analyst,” Richie says.

The doctor hesitates. “The chances he makes it through the night are 65%.”

“That’s not bad!” Richie says even as his heart drops to somewhere in the region of his feet. The others look at him pitifully. “Tell him we’re here and we love him. Tell him the Losers are here and we’ll see him soon.”

6. ** it’s a nice day to start again by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~6000 words, teen - Post-movie, Eddie wakes up one morning to discover that Richie and a woman had a shotgun wedding in Vegas the night before. Great, sad-but-trying-not-to-show-it Eddie here. (And yes, Richie is a total disaster gay who marries a woman on a whim.)

 “Are you sitting down?”

 “I didn’t even get out of bed yet! Bev please just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

 “Sorry, I’m sorry. Just- Richie got married.”

 “What? No he didn’t,” Eddie scoffs, throwing the covers off. “I’m not - he’s not even dating anybody, I see him all the time. It’s probably just a big joke or something, that’s-”

 “He got married, in Vegas. It’s all over Twitter, and he- he sent pictures to the group chat last night. She’s some other comedian. None of us have ever met her, he didn’t invite any of us.”

7. Oh, But He Makes You Laugh by MellytheHun - ~9,000 words, mature - Teenage Eddie has to deal with some serious jealousy when a new friend enters their group. This one has a good, slow realization on Eddie’s part.

The boy is in their grade, though not part of their social sphere; he’s nearly as tall as Richie, with light eyes, and walnut colored hair. Eddie recognizes him from his AP bio class, but can’t inwardly recall his name.

The boy nods toward Stanley while keeping eye-contact with Richie, and informs him, “alligators - they can grow up to twenty feet.”

Richie opens his mouth to argue with the new kid, but he’s cut off.

“Which is weird, cause they usually only grow four.”

Eddie watches in abject bewilderment as a hearty, genuine laugh  is startled out of Richie.

8. Richie Tozier: Pray Away the Gay by QueerOnTilMorning - ~4,500 words, teen - The official transcript of Richie Tozier’s comeback Netflix special. A lot of writers try to do Richie’s stand-up routine, but not many can nail it. This one feels realistic and contains actual, like, jokes and stuff.

Because I grew up in this little town called Derry, Maine--nope, absolutely not, do not cheer for that. Fuck Derry! I had this friend, for years he thought I was lactose intolerant, because he'd mention dairy and I'd be like "fuck Derry! Derry tried to fucking kill me!" No, I can eat cheese, I just hate my hometown. They did not fuck with the gays, in Derry. That's probably why I dress so shitty. It's a survival thing. I was already super into dudes. If I had developed fashion sense on top of that? No. Oh my God. It was so--I was so fucking scared all the time.

 And like, to put this in perspective, has anyone ever heard of Henry Bowers? Any true crime fans in the house? Henry Bowers, the baby serial killer? Yeah, you listened to that podcast! My friend Bill was on that podcast, doesn't he have a sexy voice? Anyway, Henry Bowers, also known very creatively as The Derry Killer, murdered a bunch of kids the summer we were thirteen. I say we, because that dude was in my fucking class. There was an active serial killer in Derry during my childhood and still, still my greatest fear was that someone would find out I was gay.

9. RICHIE TOZIER IS...THE COMEBACK CLOWN by owlinaminor & tinypersonhotel - ~11,500, teen - An excellent multimedia fic about Richie’s life with Eddie post-movie.

While Richie Tozier never stops talking, Eddie Kaspbrak never stops moving. Listening to a conversation between the two men is akin to watching a pinball machine with two balls going at once, slamming into each other and the walls and the levers and each other, lighting up their surroundings in a trance as mesmerizing as it is chaotic. (Kaspbrack laughed when I told him this metaphor—apparently Tozier spent many an afternoon at the town arcade when they were kids.)

Over the course of one twenty-minute walk with their dog, a beagle named Stanley, through their L.A. neighborhood, they manage to call off their engagement, call it back on, invite me, uninvite me, call the engagement off again, debate eloping, call the whole thing back on but disinvite everyone except me, and finally agree on what color napkins to have at the reception.

10. ** The Jenga Dream Date by stitchy - ~15,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie domestic fluff that starts at Ben and Bev’s wedding. It feels so sweet, and you can just see the happiness radiating off the screen. This is truly the ending they deserve.

Then a seriously, unbearably cute thought occurs to Richie. A thought he can’t immediately share with Eddie, because Bill and Mike each independently cornered him and made him swear not to steal Bev and Ben’s thunder.

Ah, fuck it.

“I can’t think why we would possibly be in another situation in the near future where there’s dancing but also my mother is there for some reason, but holy shit, Eds! I have got to see you dance with Mom. During this very special situation. For which I will make hand calligraphed invitations and hire a photographer and-”

Eddie’s eyes dart in either direction before he lets out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. “Uhhh, I  also have no idea when or why that would happen, or what sort of event that would be appropriate for.”

11. Bad Parts In by 50artists - ~9,000 words, not rated - It’s Richie that ends up in the hospital after it all goes down, and Eddie who has the crisis. And also some serious misapprehensions.

"I feel like Richie might be  slightly  weirded out," Eddie says dryly. "Like oh, hey, we've not spoken for decades and you're the straightest man I know, but it turns out I have been subconsciously in love with you since we were teenagers. I dunno, might make things a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry," says Beverly, "just to clarify, Richie Tozier is the straightest man you know?"

"Dude, have you seen his comedy? It's all, 'I love fucking chicks while drinking beer and watching football'."

"You mean the material that Richie doesn't write himself?'

12. ** We Found Love in a Chili’s ToGo by Amuly - ~14,000, explicit - Richie confesses his feelings to Eddie in the airport before they both headed back to their own lives. This is such a lovely story about friendship and love and putting yourself back together. And there’s some A+++ phone sex.

“Nah, Eds. It’s because I had a big gay crush and needed Stan to bitch at about it.”

Eddie frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t bitch at me about it.”

“Well bitching about your secret crush to your secret crush is generally frowned upon, Eds. Kinda fucks up the ‘secret’ part.”

Eddie, bless his tiny heart, didn’t get it for a second. His expression scrunched up, about to say something stupid back to Richie, when his brain processed Richie’s words. In a second his expression fell open, jaw actually agape.

“Oh look: drinks!” Richie grabbed his marg, licking and drinking without even letting the waitress set it down onto the tabletop. Eddie barely had the courtesy left to let her set his down before he was grabbing at it.

13. ** Ask Me About My New Material by twoseas - ~7,000 words, explicit - I could read 10,000 stories about a confused and horny Eddie jerking it to Richie’s stand up without understanding why before they meet again in Derry. This one has a great Richie, who reacts like he got hit in the face with a bat when the truth comes out.

In the restaurant, as the gong resounded around them, Eddie looked up at a four-eyed, messy, middle aged Trashmouth and suddenly it all clicked.

 He had two thoughts.

Oh, he realized, it’s because I’m in love with the dumbass.

And, Aw fuck.

14. No Parenthesis by pineapplecrushface - 13,000 words, explicit - In the deadlights, Stan gives Richie some instructions on how to bring him back. Spoilers: it involves an orgy. And Richie and Eddie dealing with their feelings.

“Okay,” Mike said, holding his hands out to placate him, and honestly Richie was really fucking sick of Mike saying crazy shit and then somehow—somehow!—convincing them to do it anyway. “I’m not saying we have to do it. I’m just saying, the ritual exists and we could do it, and now that it’s out there, I feel like you should all have the choice.”

“Great. I choose no. I’m fucking leaving before I get ritualed into giving all my money to a cult leader and I end up spending the rest of my sad short life on an alpaca farm,” Richie said, standing up too fast and stalking across the room.

“Richie,” Bev said, and she sounded, unbelievably, like she was not thinking this was completely insane.

“Are you fucking serious?” He whirled around to look at them. They were all giving him varying levels of Richie, be reasonable, which was a look he was familiar with, but not when it came to sex rituals, for some fucking reason.

15. ** Stupid Deep series by anonymous - ~50,000 words, explicit - Richie has a huge dick, and Eddie is obsessed with it. Come for the super, super hot sex, stay for the sweet romance, twist of angst and happy ending.

It’s been five months since then, and Eddie has spent at least 40% of that time thinking about Richie’s big fucking dick. He spends about 20% working from home, 20% arguing with Richie about dumb shit, and the remaining 30% sleeping—this adds up to 110%, but that’s because there’s overlap between the sleeping and the thinking about Richie’s huge dick in the form of extremely graphic dreams.

He thinks about Richie’s dick in the shower. He thinks about Richie’s dick when they’re watching TV together. He thinks about Richie’s dick when he’s trying to eat breakfast. He hasn’t even seen it hard. But god, he thinks about it. Thinks about it hot and thick in his hand, thinks about it twitching as Eddie strokes it, thinks about it stretching his lips, thinks about it leaking precum all over Eddie’s fingers and tongue and stomach. And, most importantly—most vividly—he thinks about Richie’s dick inside of him, filling him up, fucking him.

At the same time, Eddie also spent a good amount of time, woven through the rest of his daily activities, falling so deeply in love with his best-friend-cum-roommate that it was disturbing at best. There was pining. There were lingering glances. There was lying on Richie’s bed while he was out just to ease the ache in his chest with Richie’s warm, familiar scent, which is disgusting and Eddie hates to think about it. There were, in Eddie’s darkest moments, daydreams about Richie holding his hand and kissing him and telling Eddie he’s in love with him. Like a fucking sap.

16. I’m quite alright hiding today by remusjohn - ~7,000 words, explicit - Eddie kisses Richie out of the deadlights, but Richie doesn’t know if that means anything.

On the first night they don’t do much of anything. They unpack (well, Eddie unpacks his massive bags while Richie tries to figure out how to sign in to his Netflix account on the tiny TV in the living room), and they order in, and they argue over what to watch while they’re eating, and Eddie falls asleep some hours later with his head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, and Richie tries not to think too much of it.

There’s been a lot of that, the last couple of days. Richie doesn’t know how to say, You kissed me to wake me up from the deadlights and I don’t know if you did it to save my life or if there’s something else too, but it’s kind of killing me, man.

So Richie doesn’t say anything at all.

17. Haunt Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Vulcanodon - ~20,000 words, explicit - AU where Eddie and Richie are ghost hunters who get stuck in a very trippy haunted house. This concept really shouldn’t work, and I’m not big on AUs in the fandom, but the relationship between the two of them really sells it. And, obviously, the pining. There’s so much.

The only time Eddie has ever witnessed Richie freaking out was when they had been fucking about in the woods near Montana for their werewolf episode. Eddie had been walking backwards, trying to get Richie and a creepy footprint in frame when he had suddenly felt nothing but air behind him. He had fallen for an impressively long time down the hill, blacking out briefly when a branch caught his head and when he came to Richie had been leaning over him, white and frantic, hands all fisted up in Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Richie had said, nearly crying. Are you alright, can you talk?

Is my camera broken? Eddie had managed woozily to say, and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie might do something crazy like slap him or even kiss him.

He hadn’t done either in the end and Eddie remembers the disappointment, even with the haze of a mild concussion.

18. Five Times The Losers Gave Richie Permission by toomuchrootbeer -  ~11,000 words, mature - Each loser tries to let Richie know that they know in their own special way.  

“No I don’t mind,” Stan says evenly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t mind any of it.”

“Cool,” Richie chirps, grabbing his backpack off of the grass and pushing himself to his feet. “Pip pip Edward,” he calls. “Shall we endeavor to find you a cleaner wardrobe?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says back, but there is no venom behind his words.

But then Stan is reaching out, gripping Richie’s arm, “Dude what are you-”

“I don’t mind any of it, Tozier,” he repeats, voice lower and his words somehow more weighty, fixing Richie with an indecipherable look. “And I don’t think any of the other Losers would mind it either. If you wanted to,” he jerks his head in the direction of Eddie, “you know.”

19. String Theory by neverfaraway - ~17,000 words, mature - Richie starts slowly regaining his memories and has a disturbing experience in the deadlights.

The thing is, Richie knows this is a version of himself and Eddie that never existed. He can taste the pretence on the tip of his tongue, but the sticky air seems to sharpen and solidify around him. He can’t remember where he was before this moment, watching his fingers alight on the buckle of Eddie’s hundred-dollar belt.

The Voice wavers and Richie comes pouring through the cracks. It's painful to watch the careful way he places his hands on Eddie’s skin. "Fuck, I missed you," he says. "Even when I couldn't remember, I had a hole right through me, straight through the middle. You left a fucking entry and exit wound."

"Damnit, Richie," Eddie mutters, blinking rapidly. "Beep, beep."

20. hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~25,000 words, mature - Things don’t magically work out after Derry for Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he goes back to Myra and his depressig life. But at least now he has his friends. He has Richie.

With his memories back now, with all the knowledge of his mother and his placebos and his fake inhaler and his friends, it feels like Eddie has been living the last 27 years in sickly, yellow sepia tones. His memories and even the brief time he spent with everyone at the Chinese restaurant shine in his mind in vivid technicolor, and everything else pales in comparison.

He thought he would die, and now he doesn’t have a plan. His life in New York is miserable and cramped and leaves him feeling small, so he puts it off as long as he can.

The drive isn’t long, even with Eddie taking his time. He takes a detour just to drive along the coast and see the ocean, and stops at any given exit or National Forest along the way that strikes his fancy. He’s still home before nightfall.

21. After Derry series by pineapplecrushface - ~47,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie are both pining and miserable disasters post-movie. Until they finally get their shit together and figure some things out.

He woke when Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and touched his back, under his disgusting shirt. “Hey,” he said. “Your turn. I mean, your turn after I wash my hand again. What did you lie down in?”

“Your mom,” he said, sitting up and glaring at Eddie, who was half-naked, a towel wrapped around his waist. “How do you all look so good and I ended up looking like fucking Christopher Lloyd? Like, not young Christopher Lloyd. Present day.”

Eddie’s hand was still tucked under his shirt, rubbing a path across his lower back. “I guess you did grow into your looks.”

“Oh, fuck you, you weirdly muscular little shitweasel,” Richie said, escaping to the shower so he didn’t have to look at the slope of Eddie’s arms. He was weak for that, the line of a man’s shoulders and back. He was weak for all of Eddie, really. After everything he had seen, he guessed it was something he could admit to himself. There was no panic left in it.

22. for better, for worse by kaspbrak_kid - ~26,000 words, not rated - Eddie has just gotten through a messy divorce and is trying to deal with the fact that he’s been in love with Richie for 30 years, and then he has to go to Ben and Bev’s wedding. Not a great combination of things.

Eddie blows out a shaky breath and puts down his phone, then picks it back up again, restless. He scrolls up through his and Richie’s texts.

They’re not that frequent. They talk in the group chat, mostly. Eddie thinks about texting him all the time, several times a day, and then never does. It’s all just stupid shit, anyway. A dream he had or a movie he saw on TV that he remembers Richie used to like, and does he still like it? Some things his therapist tells him he should say, like that he’s been in love with Richie for somewhere between six months and thirty-odd years.

Instead, most of their private texts are just inane bickering, or Richie trying out jokes on him, or Eddie telling Richie how to clean the cut he just accidentally gave himself opening a can. He could have just googled it. But he asked Eddie.

23. feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson - ~21,000 words, teen - I’m kind of a sucker for the slowburn, falling in love over distance trope. This one does it well, with bonus Richie dealing with his issues and figuring shit out.

Mostly, though, it’s just a slight tug at the back of his mind, another part of his day. A mumbled  let me call Eddie, like an afterthought, while he’s tapping his foot in line at Whole Foods.

Eddie always, always answers.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” he chirps during business hours, dry and glib, and Richie will respond in a deep, exaggerated baritone with something awful like  Mr. Kaspbrak, your test results are in and unfortunately you  will  keep shrinking at an alarming rate for the rest of your life, something barely funny that he says just to get a reaction.

(It had been  such  a mistake to give Richie his work number.)

24. it’s about time that you just unwind by fuckener - ~9,500 words, explicit - Eddie finds out that Richie is gay via his stand-up and promptly loses his mind.

“Yeah? Mine was weird, guys, I’m not going to lie. I came up with this really good idea on how to cause total chaos at a family event, you wanna hear it?” There it was - glasses adjustment, not even past the one minute mark. “If you really want to shake up another dull as fuck Thanksgiving with your parents, just wait ‘til you’re in your forties and your elderly father is spooning out his first helping of mashed potatoes for the night and then drop the bomb that you’ve been gay the whole time. Boom, happy Thanksgiving. Pass the sweet corn, I want to fuck the huge green dude on the can.” People laughed. Richie did that thing with his face between a smile and a scowl. “It’s the long game, yeah, but -”

Eddie slammed his laptop shut.

25. feel this burning, love of mine by floatingonthelehigh - 17,000 words, mature - The clown is a bastard. Richie gets a second chance.

“Don’t leave,” Eddie says quietly, and god  fucking  damn it, it breaks him that Eddie thinks he ever would.

“No,  fuck no, Eddie. I’m not going to.” He adjusts his grip on the jacket against Eddie’s stomach, winces when Eddie gasps in pain. Richie’s lip shakes again as he just keeps talking. “Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think I’d leave you, after just remembering you're my best fucking friend in the world, after twenty seven fucking years. My clown-murdering partner in crime! How could I ever leave you? Fuck no, I’m not leaving you, Eds. Idiot,” He laughs emptily, rubbing Eddie’s cheek, and pauses, beginning to nod to himself as a goal flits into his mind. “I’m going to pick you up, I’m going to get you out of here, to a hospital. Right now. And—” Eddie’s grip on his arm tightens, and he stops.

26. hey there demons (it's me, ya boi) by dharmainitiative - 12,000 words, teen - Is this another ghosthunters AU? Why, yes it is. I don’t know why there are two of these, but I enjoyed them both. This one is much lighter, and I really liked the way that the writer creates a very lived-in feeling as soon as you jump into this universe.

 As it was, BuzzFeed wasn’t a bad place to work, despite all the shit Richie gave it. He was paid well, there were always a bunch of cushy chairs everywhere, and the food that got brought in for lunch everyday was way better than the shitty grilled cheeses he ate at home for dinner. And despite what Richie expected, his coworkers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. Sure, they were all millenials who thought landing an internship at BuzzFeed was the height of success, but most of them were friendly, and occasionally funny, and like Richie, just excited to get paid to do something that required little to no effort.

 Most of them, at least. There was also Eddie Kaspbrak.

 Richie met Eddie his first day at BuzzFeed, when he was shown his desk and the incessantly chatty intern that sat at the desk right next to him. Working side by side — literally — let Richie learn a lot of things about Eddie Kaspbrak: he was a neurotic hypochondriac, exclusively owned Polo shirts, and talked faster than Richie could even blink.

27. New Page, Same Old Book by Rend_Herring - 17,000 words, explicit - Post-movie, Eddie divorces his wife, moves across the country and makes himself comfortable in Richie’s home. Richie is totally fine and not freaking out at all.

He clips the wall coming into the foyer, practically crashes over the little table he uses to stack mail—fumbles around with the chain, the deadbolt, before finally wrenching open the door.  It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sending it bouncing back against the doorstop, that it might have been a good idea to check the peephole and make sure it actually  wasn’t  some asshole out for a smash and grab in the middle of the night, or worse — a  fan.  

Richie would be less dumbfounded by either option.

He squints at the person standing in front of him, blinks.

“I’ve had this dream before,” Richie says, voice still croaky from sleep, “usually you’re wearing less clothes.”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie sighs, and rolls his eyes when Richie jumps back a bit, genuinely startled that it’s  not some manufacturing of his sordid imagination.  “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

28. Drives Me Wild by rustywrites - ~4,000 words, explicit - Eddie and Richie have hotel sex after RIchie wins himself an Emmy.

"I thought I told you no more jokes about how much you love my dick," Eddie says, shifting to straddle Richie's waist in earnest, rolling his hips downward just to emphasize his point, no doubt. His hands are braced on both of Richie's shoulders, pinning him back with his bodyweight, while Richie's hands are on his waist, holding him in place. It's not the most comfortable position, all things considered--Richie's knees are bent over the end of the mattress, his feet still on the floor, and they're both still in their fucking monkey suits.

Richie had tried to make the case with his agent and his manager that he should be allowed to attend the Emmys in the same clothes he always wore (jeans, a shitty t-shirt, a semi-fashionable jacket, you know, the works.) They were good enough for his specials, one of which had earned him the nomination to begin with, but both Anna and Johnathan had pushed back hard, and when Eddie had not-so-subtly sided with them, well. Suit and tie it was.

29. Rewrite by sachi_sama - ~13,000 words, mature - Stan is dead, but somehow only Eddie can see him as they race to beat It. That’s...probably not a good sign. (note: Stan stays dead in this fic.)

“Whoa. Hey, Eds, you being a weepy drunk over there?” Richie asks, and he scoots over into Stan's seemingly empty chair, and Stan vanishes as Richie's hand is suddenly on Eddie's shoulder.

“I just—I saw...” Eddie pauses, and he wipes his hands over his eyes, sniffling. When's the last time he cried? It makes his head hurt every time. “Fuck. I'm sorry, guys.” He stands abruptly. “I'm gonna go splash some water on my face.” He hurriedly exits the room and he hears Mike asking what he saw, but Eddie is already power-walking across the restaurant to the bathroom, aware Dead Stan is hot on his heels.

“Lucky. The bathroom is empty,” Stan says as he leans against the wall. Eddie looks at him, really looks, and he sees the blood on Stan's wrists.

30. ** we are all going forward, none of us are going back series by theappliepielifestyle - ~21,000 words, teen - Richie gets stuck in a time loop and forced to repeat their last stand at Neibolt over and over until he gets it right.

Richie hears himself finish saying Let’s kill this clown  and it’s only when he finishes forming the  n  that reality sets in. What the  fuck -

He whirls around. Everyone’s standing around him, just like they were last night - they’re in front of the fucking house, it’s standing again.

“What the fuck,” Richie croaks. “No, come on - what’s going on? Ohhhh fuck.”

He only lets himself stare at it for a few seconds of unbridled hate before he keeps looking at the others, who are now staring at him, pausing from where they’d all taken a step towards the house before looking back and stopping to watch Richie’s nervous breakdown.

31. ** keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theapplepielifestyle - 16,000 words, teen - Eddie dies, sort of, and meets Stan in the afterlife. The two of them realize that they can communicate with their friends in their dreams. Eddie has to watch Richie slowly breakdown in his absence.

32. ** happily ever afters all the way around series by theapplepielifestyle - ~35,000 words, teen - I have so much appreciation for this author’s desire to fix the ending by any means necessary. In this one, that good old turtle lends a hand and sends Richie back in time to fix everything. It’s...a lot.

Then it smooths out into an actual scene, if jumpy: a sigil on wooden boards that look a lot like the floor of Richie’s apartment. The sigil is probably drawn in blood, but it could also be red paint. Although Richie’s being  very  optimistic about that. Anyway, the dream is mostly that: the sigil being drawn, slow and precise, by Richie. It’s dark in the dream, and the sigil being drawn is overcut with more fleeting images, chased with sounds: Stan’s bloody hand dangling out of a bath. Stan as a kid, on the tail end of saying something as he walks home in the evening. Eddie with blank eyed, slumped in IT’s lair. Eddie as a kid, in mid-argument in the clubhouse. A voice so deep and impossible that it hurts, a voice that reminds him of the turtle’s gaze:  come back come back you can change the -

At the end of the dream, the scene will stabilize. Dream-Richie will say some shit he can't make out. Then he'll say the one thing he can make out, which is: I’m coming.

And then he’ll wake up.

LINK TO REDDIE FIC REC LIST PART TWO 

[mayhembunnywrites]

Eskimo Kisses and Starsent Wishes

Pairing: Nafla x Reader

Summary: Falling into your future.

Nicholas Choi typically doesn’t get angry, but in this moment he can’t help but be a little pissed off. He had been in a public park after finishing up the photoshoot for unu, just trying to relax a little bit, when some woman had knocked into him. Oh, she had apologized, but it was half assed and he could tell! So he chased after her, and now he has finally caught up to her.

“Excuse me,” he says somewhat impatiently, noticing the toddler in front of you but not really paying attention to the little girl. Distantly, he does know that what happened next was very, very creepy by normal standards but, in his own defense, he couldn’t help himself. 

The moment you turned around to face him, clearly suspicious of this random man who you had never met, his world had stopped in its tracks. You were drop-dead gorgeous in his opinion, and he was dumbfounded as he stared at you.

“Uhh, dude,” you say hesitantly, nervous as this stranger, no matter how handsome, stares at you without words. “Sorry for running into you earlier, are you alright?” The minutes drag on as he stares at you, jaw dropped open. You hide your daughter behind your back as warning bells ring preemptively in your head, worried about this man who creeps you out to no end.

“Well then,” you say as you begin backing up, “I’d say it was nice to meet you but I would be lying, and I don’t want to do that in front of my daughter...Bye.” You turn around and pick up your three year old with a practiced ease, diaper bag hanging across your body as you nearly run away from him.

Nicholas shakes out of his stupor, reaching a hand out as if to stop you in your tracks as he watches you walk away. “No, stop,” he says quietly, the words feeling as if they were spoken through a megaphone to him, and he watches in horror as you leave his sight. He shuffles his feet sheepishly, turning around and moving to leave the park.

He ends up back at his apartment, staring up at his ceiling as he laments over his actions, redoing the scenario and imagining how it could have ended differently.

One month has passed before Nicholas next sees you at a party being thrown by Kid Milli, the small and friendly event being thrown for Giriboy’s birthday. He was shocked to see you there, interacting with these normally rough men and melting them to the core as you simply talk, not even noticing what you were doing to your good friends. 

As it was the first time he had met you, Nicholas was dumbfounded as he looked at you, the black and white t-shirt dress hanging off your form in a way that wasn’t sloppy in the least, and he can’t help but be amazed by the way you had dressed, even your shoes are black and white, and it appears as if you match the birthday boy in color scheme.

You flush as you notice the familiar man staring at you, and the smile falls from your face as you shift, moving yourself behind Giriboy and seeming to become part of his shadow. Your gaze drops to the floor, your hand lifting and gently hanging onto the back of Giriboy’s oversized and yet fashionable t-shirt. You accidentally tug on it as you casually attempt to move to a more secure position, only to freeze under Siyoung’s questioning gaze. Your eyes dart nervously from Siyoung to Nicholas, and Siyoung follows your gaze to notice Nicholas staring at you from across the room. 

Siyoung raises an eyebrow at the other man, drawing Wonjae’s attention to the situation and causing him to scowl slightly. 

Siyoung gently loosens your grip, a smile brushing his lips as he listens to your whispered protests. He squeezes your hands before approaching Nicholas, finally causing him to break from his stupor as he realizes that he appears to be in a lotoftroubleohshit. Nicholas feels as if the world is in slow motion as he watches the normally calm man approach him, noticing as Siyoung’s fists clench. Nicholas swallows air in his nervous state, unable to rip his gaze from Siyoung as he finally stops in front of Nicholas.

“Hey Nafla,” Giriboy says with an easy-going smile on his face, contradicting his tense body language, “How’s it going?”

Nafla feels as if he is under the gaze of a wolf on the hunt, and he can feel himself growing smaller under the other man’s assessing gaze. “It’s going well,” Nicholas manages to force the words out before he feels Siyoung wrap an arm around his shoulder.

“That’s good,” Siyoung says cheerfully as he starts leading Nicholas to the guest room in his home, knowing that Kid Milli is distracting you easily after so many years of friendship. Your little trio of friends was truly as tight-knit as could be, having been through so much shit together. The most prominent event that you had all been through together was definitely your little miracle, the result of a one-night-stand. 

You had contacted the man, but he had no interest in being a father, and you felt no need to push him into the position. Siyoung and Wonjae had been unsure whether to be happy or upset on your behalf at the news of your pregnancy, but they settled for holding you while you cried as you told them. They had only hugged you more tightly, and sometimes it feels like they never let you out of their embrace.

You had moved into Siyoung’s home for the duration of your pregnancy, staying in the guest bedroom as he gladly renovated the basement. The once large and unfinished basement had been turned into a series of sizable rooms, two bedrooms and one bathroom being added and customized to your liking as the months fly by, your stomach growing more heavy and your due date rapidly approaching. 

Siyoung or Wonjae accompany you pretty much everywhere when it gets close to your delivery date, assigning their friends or colleagues to the task if they can’t be there. From Reddy to Yun B, your friends had assigned suspiciously single rappers to guard you in their stead. Much to Wonjae and Siyoung’s mutual disappointment, you had befriended everyone you met, but that was as far as you all ended up getting. 

Wonjae and Siyoung had been on stand-by in the last month of your pregnancy, and you had never been more grateful for their presence than when they were by your side in the delivery room. They had both been glued to you during labor, planting kisses on your forehead and comforting you better than a parent ever could. It had been a long 20 hours of labor before your baby girl was delivered, So Min’s angelic features captivated both men and caused all three of you to coo over her.

The past year of her life had flown by in a flurry of smiles and giggles, crying and restless nights for both of you. Siyoung and Wonjae had begun to take So Min to the studio whenever you needed a break, both men taking to their roles as uncles with glee. Most of the time you were fine with it, but occasionally you would find bags upon bags of designer baby clothes and toys, accessories galore. Everything from a diamond-encrusted hair-clip to a Gucci diaper bag, if they felt you needed it then they would buy it for her.

You had been absolutely shocked to come home to your closet stocked with designer maternity clothes, the small amount of maternity clothing being replaced with soft dresses and shirts, maternity jeans and soft pajamas, even soft pairs of slippers to wear around the house. Yourself and Siyoung had gone furniture shopping when your rooms had been completed, and you had been shocked at the prices of the furniture. 

Siyoung had ended up with your permission to buy whatever he wanted for you so long as you didn’t see a receipt, and he happily agreed to your conditions. You had come home only a day later to find your room and the nursery full of the necessary furniture, all of it truly the best quality money could buy.

As the year had passed, more and more baby clothing had seemed to appear out of thin air, all of it beautiful and fully intact. All in all, living with Siyoung had been great since the beginning, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Setting up parties for any of you was now a whole lot easier than before, the location automatically settled to Siyoung’s house. You had dropped So Min off at Siyoung’s parents house earlier, the older couple gladly acting as grandparents for a night.

Nicholas was currently walking with Siyoung towards the nearby balcony, Siyoung’s arm slung casually around Nicholas’ shoulder, the empty balcony a welcome reprieve from the noise of the party. 

“You know,” Siyoung begins as he lowers himself into the comfortable armchair, “she’s single. I’ve been trying to get her to date for ages now, but she might scare you away.”

Nicholas blinks in shock, having expected to be told off for staring at Siyoung’s girlfriend but instead being encouraged to ask you out. “Y-you mean, you’re not dating her?” he says in disbelief, having thought that you were after you had hid from his gaze.

Siyoung lets out a laugh, smiling brightly as he thinks of you. "No, I could never date Y/N, we have too much history. Besides, she's too much of a sister to me. Let me introduce you to her." Nicholas gets a friendly pat on the back as he trails behind Siyoung in a dazed state. He is shaken out of his daze as he stops in front of you, noticing your questioning glance at Siyoung as he stops with a wide smile on his face.

“Hey Y/N,” Siyoung says without a hint of the nervous feelings that Nicholas is hiding fairly well, “I would like you to meet Choi Nicholas, otherwise known as Nafla. Nafla, meet Y/N. She’s one of my favorite people, so take care of her. Now then,” he nods at Wonjae with a smirk, “we’ve gotta go check on the rest of the guests, you two have fun!” Suddenly you’re both standing together, and you fidget in place and flush as you notice Nicholas’ handsome features.

The two of you stand together, taking in each other's features with shy glances and both of you shifting nervously before you clear your throat, taking a deep breath. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N, I think we ran into each other in the park that one time.”

“Ah, yeah,” Nicholas says with a slight blush, “Sorry about that, I must have looked like such a creep.” You move to protest before a shake of his head stops you in your tracks, “I just--you were so beautiful and I couldn’t do anything.” Nicholas stops talking, feeling as humiliation at his word-vomiting washes over him. His gaze falls to the floor and he doesn’t notice as your jaw relaxes into a smile, his words cute and making you flush.

“It’s okay,” you laugh, smiling fondly as his head snaps up and a relieved smile settles onto his handsome face, “I think I quite like you, as well, if that’s what you were getting at.” Nicholas gulps nervously, a smile still on his face as he mentally prepares for the next move.

“Well then, would you be interested in going out for a coffee with me?” he asks you, and your eyes widen as you bounce in place, the unexpected words taking you by surprise. Normally the men that try to flirt with you are much less blunt, but his straightforwardness is refreshing to you.

“I’d like that a lot,” you say, giggling nervously, “we can do it tomorrow for lunch, if you want.” You twirl your hair casually around your fingers, gently tugging on it as an outlet for your nervous state.

You let out a breath that you had been holding without your knowledge as Nafla, Choi Nicholas, nods. “That sounds amazing, should we go ahead and exchange numbers as well?” As both of you pull out your phones, you both feel giddy with delight. You don’t notice the eyes of your friends, your brothers, on you as you allow yourself to enjoy the night with Nicholas. 

The night passes as if it was a dream, and later that night you strip down and lay in your bed, reminiscing over your bold actions earlier. You are torn between joy and agony, the day running through your mind as you’re dragged into unconsciousness. The last thing you see as you fall asleep is Nicholas’ smiling face, and he is in your dreams that night.

A/N: This is part one of two parts, with maybe some drabbles later! I worked hard to get this much out and will probably revise it in the future, but it’s at five pages in the Google Doc with no sign of stopping so far. 

[celt-the-flame-3110]

(This is Reddie-Fangirl24) Because I loved your fic where Richie comforts Eddie from the hurricane, could you write a sequel fic, please? Maybe more comforting during the actual hurricane? It’s up to you. Great story by the way!

I don't know if this is what you had in mind but I hope you like it regardless! 💕

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“Eddie, Rich is going to be fine. He just went up to check on the leaks."

Eddie continued erratically pacing, not paying Mike’s words of reassurance any mind.

Throughout the day, the storm got progressively worse. By the time Eddie woke up from his nap, Richie found a leak in the guest bedroom. Bill came into their room soon after to inform them that there was water coming in through the shut living room window too. The walls were creaking louder than they had before. Mike sat some buckets and towels under the leaking areas to catch the water before the four of them went down into the cellar.

This freaked Eddie out and he was on the verge of an anxiety attack. After Mike, Bill and (more importantly) Richie reassured him that they were down there ‘just in case’ the storm became more destructive and that the storm was still at category two, Eddie was able to calm down.

The four of them were chilling down in the cellar playing board games, talking, and joking around. This lasted for a few hours and then Richie volunteered to go empty the buckets and throw new towels down around them.

Then Eddie started freaking out again.

Eddie tried to steady his own breathing, to no avail. “B-but what if he’s not fine, Mike? What if the fucking house collapses on him?”

“It won’t.” Mike assured him, patient as ever.

Eddie whirled around to glare at him. “You don’t know that for sure.”

Bill let out a deep, defeated sigh. “Come on, Eds—”

“Don’t fucking call me that, Bill.” Eddie snapped, on the verge of yelling.

Bill recoiled, blinking in confusion at his friend.

Mike tried again. “Eddie, dude, you need to calm—”

“No, fuck you, Mike! I’m not going to just… ‘calm down.’ My boyfriend is going to fucking die because you thought it was a good idea to let him go upstairs where the house could fucking collapse at any—!"

Eddie was cut off by hearing the staircase creak.

Richie quickly, but carefully, descended the staircase. He stopped a few feet from Eddie, not making a move to touch him or get any closer.

Upon seeing his favorite person in the world, it was like Bill and Mike didn’t exist. Eddie truly believed that he and Richie were the only two people in the room.

All that came out of Eddie’s mouth was, “Y… You’re okay.”

Richie chuckled. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eddie rushed forward to practically leap at Richie, trusting him to catch him in his arms. Richie did, of course, and Eddie clung to him as his eyes started to sting.

“I thought you were going to fucking die…” Eddie murmured.

Richie’s tone of voice grew impossibly softer. “What? Eddie, honey, no. I’m okay. The house is still standing. Everything’s fine, baby, trust me.”

Eddie was well aware that Richie could be sugar-coating the situation to ease his anxiety. But the thing was, Eddie did trust him. He would pretty much put his own life in Richie’s hands if he had to entrust someone with it.

Eddie buried his face in Richie’s chest, trying to hide his tears.

He felt Richie carry him to another part of the cellar and sit down, resting Eddie’s legs onto his lap.

Eddie curled closer to him (if that were even possible) and he felt Richie rubbing up and down his back with one of his lage, warm hands. Eddie relaxed at the touch and breathed in the smell of Richie’s cologne, trying to drink in his calming presence.

Eddie vaguely heard (well... felt more than heard) Richie talking to Bill or Mike. His deep voice sent pleasant vibrations through Eddie, eventually helping to slow the rapid pace of his beating heart.

When Eddie focused back in on the conversation between his three friends, he felt Richie laughing as Bill finished telling a story.

Eddie lifted his head and blearily asked, “What’s goin’ on?”

Richie looked down at Eddie and smiled, seeming slightly surprised. “Hey, babe. We’re just talking. Did you have a good nap?”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

Richie laughed. “Eds, you fell asleep for a few hours.”

Eddie blinked again. “I did?”

Richie smiled kindly. “Yeah, silly. Your panicking must’ve tired you out.”

“Hopefully you’ll be able to sleep tonight.” Bill said.

Eddie turned his head to look over at his other two friends—who he yelled at mere hours ago—to see them also smiling and holding each other’s hand.

Eddie felt the guilt settle in his chest. “Uh, hey guys. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s alright,” Mike said. “We know you have no control over what you say when you’re stressed.”

Bill nodded in agreement.

Eddie averted his eyes from their gazes. “That doesn’t make it okay, though…”

“Well... I forgive you, then.” Mike said.

Seconds later, Bill said, “So do I.”

Eddie still felt bad about what he had said, but he nodded nonetheless.

Richie started rubbing Eddie’s back again, kissing his cheek.

Bill snorted. “Who would’ve thought that you two would be the most affectionate out of all of us?”

Richie shrugged. “I dunno, Big Bill. I think Ben could give me a run for my money.”

“I mean, Ben’s head-over-heels for Bev. But there’s no way Haystack’s more sappy than you, Tozier.” Mike said.

Eddie made eye contact with Richie, who was still rubbing his back and smiling down at him. “Yeah. You’ve got a point, Mikey. Can you blame me, though?”

Eddie remembers when the two of them were in middle school and Richie started dating some girl (her name was Sammy or Sandy or something, Eddie couldn’t remember now.) When they would hold hands while walking down the hallway or he would kiss her on the cheek, the losers would tease him about it. Richie would immediately let go of her and his face would flush and he would mutter, ‘Shut the fuck up…’

But now when the losers teased him about how whipped he was for Eddie, Richie would never look embarrassed. He would just continue to hold Eddie’s hand or he would kiss Eddie square on the mouth (earning him shouts of ‘Get a room!’ from the others.) Richie was never ashamed of Eddie. Ever.

Bill ruined the moment by saying, “Someone should probably go empty the buckets and check on the leaks.”

Richie nodded and tried to stand up.

Eddie held on tighter and squeaked out a really panicked “No!”

Richie looked down at Eddie in concern, whose heart was starting to pick up pace as he imagined Richie being crushed to death under tons of rubble.

“I’ll go check it,” Mike offered, standing. “I think Rich should stay here.”

Richie nodded. “Yeah, that’s a better idea.”

“‘M sorry…” Eddie murmured.

Mike shook his head. “No, it’s okay. It’s Bill’s fault for being a fucking pussy and never offering to check.”

Bill tried to hide his smile with a fake scoff. “Love you too…”

Mike left to check on the leak as Richie cackled.

Eddie looked up at Richie moments after Mike left. “Is he gonna be o—?”

Richie gave him a warm smile. “Eds, Mike’s gonna be fine. It’s okay.”

And Eddie believed Richie, because of course he did.