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urmomsmainbitch · 3 years ago

Text

american idiot - chapter one

link to wattpad story // link to series masterlist // link to writing

word count: 2.7k

warnings: the bowers gang, weapons, violence, basically the whole thing (if you're not comfortable with violence or abuse -- which henry faces during the movies and during the book -- then i recommend you don't read, but i'll try to tag appropriately!)

a/n: i hope you don't think it's ass but this is probably going to come out every other friday or so but this is more of a trailer than the start of the actual series

HENRY DIDN'T REMEMBER a better time in his life than when he heard the news that Tommy 'Gun' Lee was coming back to Derry for the summer. To him, nothing topped the moment where is dad was slurring over his dinner (leftover hot dogs -- again), and let it slip that the "ungrateful little bitch" was coming back for a few months over the summer, and that "your whore of a mother" didn't mention if she was staying for the year or not.

He remembered huffing and puffing, grumbling something under his breath before excusing himself, and running to call Patrick like it was fucking Christmas morning.

Something about his darling little sister coming back made his heart race and a smile light up his face, and it was evident from the way he stepped into Derry Middle on the last day of school.

Oh, this summer would be perfect! His deal with Denbrough was over, the gang was all together, and his perfect sister was coming back from San Diego for the summer. Tommy Lee Bowers, he knew, would make this the best summer he;d ever had -- and by fucking God, he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way. Not that stuttering freak or the stupid Tozier kid who's mouth ran a mile a minute or his father's thriving alcohol addiction -- absolutely nothing.

His Tommy Gun would rule that fucking school the second she stepped in to pick him up, and every one knew it.

Word travels fast at Derry Middle, and when it got around that Bowers had a little sister coming, the first thing Bill Denbrough did was panic.

She couldn't be too different, could she?

The same blood ran through their veins, the same color skin on their bones, and most likely, the permanently upturned smirk tattooed to their lips. His hopes didn't improve when he saw the girl himself, waiting outside on the hood of Butch's car, throwing rocks at little kids passing by as she sat patiently for Henry to come outside.

He'd promised her a tour of the school -- it's only fair, he put it, that a queen knows her kingdom before taking it over. Henry had no doubt that Tommy would run the school when it was her time in September. A grade below Tits and the rest of his ugly friends, it would be more embarrassing than anything else to watch them suffer socially at the hands of a twelve year old girl.

(Henry very much looked forward to that moment. So much so, in fact, that he near goddamn skipped his way to the front of the school to open the door so they could start the tour. It helped that he was getting out of math class.)

It was only in the few moments before she walked in the door (immediately claiming the whole goddamn building with a footstep) that Bowers caught him by the bag and dragged him into the bathroom, away from the rest of the kids, and most likely, where he'd lay dying for the rest of the school day and foreseeable future (Stanley refused to shit in the school bathrooms, and seeing as he was the only one on this side of the building, he was screwed.).

Bill had never liked being alone with Henry Bowers. Nothing good ever came out of it, and he didn't want to stick around this time to find out why he'd been pulled into a bathroom and away from the rest of the student population. Henry let go of Bill's bag, letting him stumble around for a second or two before straightening up and backing him up against the wall.

"W-what d-d-do you w-want, B-Bowers?" Bill nearly spat, looking the older boy in the eyes. Henry's permanent smirk seemed to grow a few inches on either side, because he just chuckled softly -- albeit cruelly -- and looked down at the Denbrough boy. Bill could smell his breath, even though the two weren't standing particularly close to one another.

"Well, B-b-billy," he mocked, nearly laughing as he relaxed his posture a little bit and backed away from him. (Any one is passing who didn't know them might have said, "Hey, I bet those two boys are damn good friends.") "I have some news for you and your group of stupid fucking friends, and let me tell you" -- Henry stopped to laugh for a second, like he was cracking himself up -- "it's going to make your life a living hell."

Bill gulped. He didn't think, realistically, it could get much worse.

"You got a free ride this year because of your little brother," Henry reminded, smiling a little bit, seeming genuine. "But the ride's over Denbrough. This summer is going to be the worst summer of your entire life."

(Bill didn't expect him to say anything else -- but honestly, every summer was the worst summer of his entire life. He didn't catch a break from the older boy and his group of goons, but there was a feeling down in the pits of his stomach that told him that this time, this time, for real, was going to be the worst summer vacation he's ever going to have as long as he lives.)

"But I do have a little piece of extra advice I'm gonna give you."

Bill huffed. "You're so generous," he started, rolling his eyes, as he tried to walk out of the bathroom. Henry grabbed onto his backpack, "but I think I'll have to pass with this one."

He was cut off as Bowers kicked him on shin and onto the cold bathroom tiles. So much for being brave.

"I think you might want to hear this." Henry squatted down to look Bill in the eyes. There was still a hint of a smile on his face. Boy, this is gonna be good. "If you think I'm a pain in your ass--"

"I d-do think you're a p-pain in m-my a-ass."

Henry paused for a second, sending a menacing smile, and pushed him back on the ground as he got up and stepped over the boy on the floor, before beginning to make his way out of the bathroom before looking back, before lending Bill a hand to get up. He hesitantly took it and brushed off his pants, lips pressed tightly together as he looked at Henry. "Then you're gonna hate the girl sitting on Belch's car."

"Why's that?" Bill asked, feigning confidence, already knowing the answer. Henry could tell, just exhaling and giving him a big mischievous smile, hands behind his back.

"Not important, but she's not gonna be as nice as I am," he said with a grin, "but I'm just looking out for you, Billy Boy. Wouldn't want Tommy Gun to whip your ass without some working, right?"

With that, Henry left the bathroom, a smile plastered on his face as he went to greet his sister, and Bill raced out of there like his ass was on fire -- warning Richie not to talk to or about the pretty girl sitting on Belch's car.

-- -- --

"Best feeling ever!" Stan groaned, grinning ear to ear as he dumped out everything from his backpack. School had finally let out for the summer �� no more stupid math classes or dumb reading assignments and annoying history tests, just Stanley and his bird book for three whole months.

A piece of his own personal heaven. Points if the pretty girl on Belch's hood was with him but hey, he wasn't picky.

"Really?" Richie asked with a grin on his face, "Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Eddie rolled his eyes, but Bill smiled. Stan let out another groan -- not a good one, this time -- even though, if he had to be honest, this seemed like it would be the best summer of his whole entire life.

Richie felt it too, if he were going to tell the truth (as he so rarely did -- or at times, so bluntly did), that this felt like it was going to the be the absolutely best summer he would have for the rest of his life. He had a whole checklist and everything for things he wanted to do (kiss some girls), things he wanted to see (some girls' boobs), and things he wanted to experience (there were a number of interesting things on this list).

And quite frankly, he felt as though every single thing on every one of his lists could be accomplished with the girl sitting on Belch Huggins' car hood, smiling mischievously as she watched the kids coming out of school.

God, did she really and truly look like an angel. Deep brown hair, straight in some parts and wavy in others, came down a little bit past her collarbone (not super cared for, but neither was his), cherry red lips, and a cute line of freckles going across the bridge of her nose. She was the most impressive tan he'd ever seen in his whole life, a very deep beige from the summer sun — even though it was only June.

The top part was being held up by some clip, and Richie could see his own Hawaiian shirt going over her tank top instead of the open button down she was wearing on top. It was lazy looking and careless and little bit disheveled, but that day, Richard Wentworth Tozier II was convinced he saw the hottest girl to ever be created.

Eddie interrupted his dream, snapping him back for only a second. "So what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

"I start my training," Richie responded immediately.

"Training for what?"

"Street Fighter."

"You're going to spend your whole summer inside of an arcade?" Eddie couldn't imagine that prospect, but with Richie, anything was possibly -- no matter how disgusting it might seem.

"Beats spending it inside of your mother, oh!" Richie's goofy grin came back in an instant and leaned over for a high five from Bill when his hand was brought down by Stan. "And, 'course, my summer bucket list."

Eddie sent him a pity glance, "No girl's gonna let you fuck her this summer, Richie. If they have any brains at all, no girl is going to let you go within a ten foot radius of her without realizing what she's doing." Richie pressed his lips together. Of course Eddie would be cynical, it's just because — "and don't tell me that I think it because I just haven't hit puberty yet!"

Richie gave him a toothy grin, "Aw, shucks, Eddie Spaghetti, you know me so well. When you see a pretty girl, like say, that one over there—" he pointed discreetly towards the girl on the hood —"you'll get that feeling of butterflies in your stomach and just think, 'Wow, I've just seen an angel.' I don't mean Bowers, I just-"

"Yeah, you mean his little sister." Eddie looked up to Richie for a response, only to see him at a loss for words, jaw dropping and face paling.

For once, Richie Tozier was speechless as Eddie laughed and slapped his back as Bill mentioned something about the Barrens and Georgie and finding him — even though everybody had long accepted the fact that Georgie wasn't just missing.

It was like a switch. Everything changed in that instant. It was like she grew fangs and claws, and he watched Patrick look at her like she hung the fucking moon. It was incredibly painful, but he assumed, in a sense, they deserved each other. It took a second before he realized what this would actually mean for him: having to worry about a double in the hallways — a hot double that could potentially fool him into forgetting her Bowers-ness — and someone else to make fun of him in ways that he'd never tjough imaginable.

Sure, Bowers wasn't awfully bright, but he sure as hell was creative when it came down to it.

"Gunner!" Richie heard Bowers (the boy one) laugh as she shoved him in the side, cackling along herself, cigarette never leaving her mouth — opting just to talk out of the side of it.

Oh, so her name must have been Gunner. That's unfortunate, he thought to himself. But then again, she seems awful, so maybe she just deserves it. He smiled to himself. "Tommy Lee, we've gotta start heading out soon."

Wait, so was it Tommy Lee? Or was it Gunner? Was that just the gang's nickname for her? More importantly, if it was, why the fuck would they choose a name like Gunner for her? Nothing was settling about that fact, and although Richie wasn't typically one to spiral, it was hard to control himself.

"You didn't tell me you had friends, Henny!" Tommy exclaimed girlishly, making Patrick spit out his sofa and slam his hand on the car hood, flicking out her cigarette and letting Patrick snuff it out. She put a hand on her heart. "Oh, you've grown up so fast! I remember it was just yesterday you took a massive shit in that kids backpack and had to do forty hours of community service!"

Richie could tolerate a lot of things. One thing he couldn't tolerate though, was not being able to chime in when his story was being used and told all wrong — or mentioned without his name. Luckily, he was spared his intervention by a howling Belch Huggins.

"It was four eyes!" Huggins nearly screamed, warning a howling laugh from Tommy and shove from Victor, followed by a point led by Patrick. "Yeah, him!"

Richie could feel his face heating up, but before he could say anything, the bright blue TransAM was firing up the engine, and was getting ready to peel out of the school parking lot like a man man was driving.

Bill was the first to say anything. "Sorry about that, Rich. Bowers is a real asshole."

"So is his sister," he made out through his teeth.

Richie saw himself as a 'go with the flow' kind of guy, but goddamn it, he wasn't going to let Tommy Lee shit all over him and get away with it.

He was too stubborn, too arrogant, and too proud to let that happen, but with only a second or two of knowing she existed, he knew she was the exact same way. He could get tell it with the way she walked and talker and immediately took control of some of the scariest kids in Derry Middle.

But she wouldn't come out on top of this one.

There's no way. He refused to let it happen. Letting her win would show everyone else that he was just a loser who couldn't stand up to a girl who's was going to beat the living daylights out of him if he looked at her the wrong way.

She already had Henry and Patrick and Belch on her side — an even, if not better, match to four decently sized seventh graders. There was no excuse for them to get beat.

Grinding his teeth and tearing his eyes away from her, laughing mischievous and almost secretly as she put her cigarette out on Belch's hood as not to be noticed by he coo around the corner (Rich didn't know that the cop around the corner was her father who would beat her till she couldn't stand if he caught her smoking) he said, "So, Barrens tomorrow, right Bill?"

And right as Tommy Lee Bowers and her newfound gang pulled out of the parking lot, she and Richie Tozier locked eyes and made a silent pact — an agreement — something they both agreed on — something he'd be thinking about all night and the whole next morning:

Derry is two small for the two of us.

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malfoysmaybank · 4 years ago

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richie x reader where he pretends to hate her but actually doesn’t and the losers don’t know why he hates her but he’s actually in love with her

The Quarry - Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

a/n: of course!! nobody died/ moved away in this and some street layouts were changed to help with plot details!! also, this is in she/her pronouns as of the request, but lmk if i need to make an alternate version with different pronouns for anyone!! enjoy, and ty to this anon who sent in requests for a bunch of underrated characters!!

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Finally, the last day of sophomore year. The Losers burst through the front entrance of Derry High School and headed towards the trash cans, like usual, to dump the contents of their school bags into the garbage. Y/N, the only other girl loser besides Bev, joined them as she had done since the 5th grade.

------

Y/N had been brought to the group by Stan, the shyest but most friendly loser. The others had been suspicious of her at first, but she soon proved herself worthy of being a loser when she stood up to the Bowers Gang, who were making fun of the others.

Richie instantly liked Y/N. With her fiery personality and sarcastic humor that in ways rivaled his, how couldn’t he? They grew close fast, soon becoming best friends. They did everything together: homework, skating, they even killed Pennywise together when they were only 12.

But in the 8th grade, he started pushing her away and blowing off plans with her, he never even told her why. They were obviously in the same friend group, so he couldn’t ignore her forever, so he went for the second best option: being a dick.

Now Y/N had very thick skin, but when he started hating her all of a sudden, she started to become very insecure and upset over him. Alas, she wasn’t about to let a man talk to her like that and not do anything. Eddie was the only one who knew how Y/N truly felt about how Richie treated her, having confided in him early on. But in the eyes of the other losers, Y/N didn’t give a shit what he said about her.

------

“Dude, why does she have to tag along for everything?” Richie groaned when he saw Y/N approach. “I don’t know, maybe cause these are my friends too? An odd concept to you, I know, since you think the world revolves around you.” She shot back and turned to the rest of the group. “What are you all doing tomorrow?” She asked. “I-I don’t know yet. I was thinking we sh-s-should go down to the quarry if everyone else is c-cool with that.” Bill said, still stuttering but only slightly, as he was growing out of it as he got older.

The rest of the group agreed, including Richie, (surprising, considering he never agreed to anything if you did), and you made a plan to meet at the quarry with food at noon for a losers-only picnic. Y/N bid goodbye to her friends and walked back home.

------

“Bye, mom!” Y/N headed out of her house, backpack over her shoulder and bike in tow, to meet her friends at the quarry. As she neared the end of her street, she hopped on her bike and started riding down the sidewalk. “Yo Y/N, wait up!” She looked back to see Mike riding towards her, a couple of the others trailing behind.

Mike, Ben, Stan, and Y/N all lived in the same area of Derry, while Bill, Beverly, Eddie, and Richie lived on the exact opposite side. Going anywhere usually meant each half of the group gathering and then meeting halfway. Speaking of the others...

------

“I still don’t understand why we can’t do anything without Y/N. She always makes everything so boring!” Richie complained as he walked to the quarry with the other 3 losers in his half. “Dude, you were just fine and dandy with her until the end of middle school when you started acting like she’s worthless!” Eddie argued back.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but you need to learn to at least deal with her, got it? She’s our friend and no matter what reason, you need to tolerate her because we love her.” Eddie gestured to Bill and Beverly who nodded, and then to Y/N and the other 3 losers approaching, who were all laughing at some dumb joke she said. I do too, he thought.

Richie’s heart skipped a beat and butterflies erupted in his stomach as he looked at you. Fuck, why does this always happen?! He suppressed the urge to hug you (why the fuck did he want to hug you for no reason?!) as he greeted the other three losers with a smile and wave. When she saw him smile, it was her turn to get butterflies in her stomach, as per usual. But forget it, she thinks. He hates you.

Y/N stripped down to her bathing suit and waited for the others to do the same. Richie subtly checked her out as he pulled his shirt off and turned to talk to Eddie and Bill. His muscles became more toned since last year, so Y/N was surprised when she saw him. She not-so-subtly checked him out as well. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Richie calls behind him. “Could say the same to you, Tozier. I saw that, earlier!” Richie’s face flushed and he turned to Eddie again. That whole ‘jumping in the water with only undergarments on’ thing ended in 7th grade when everyone hit puberty, it just wasn’t going to work anymore (and for obvious reasons).

Before anyone could battle her, she ran towards the edge of the cliff and jumped off. Her body hit the cold water and it felt amazing compared to the sweltering summer heat. She swam out of the way for the boys to follow and unsurprisingly, Richie was next. He was always the daredevil of the group. This was followed by Beverly, then Bill, Ben, Stan, and then Mike and Eddie at the same time.

After they all ate lunch, Y/N sat on the little shore on the edge of the water. She soon heard her name being called. “Y/N!! We’re playing chicken, get over here!” Beverly yelled. Y/N swam over and hoisted herself onto Bill’s shoulders. Beverly got onto Mike’s shoulders and the game started. Richie sat next to Stanley as he watched the game from the rocks. “You like her, don’t you?” Stan said gently. “What?! Of course not? Why would you even think that...” Richie wasn’t convincing him. “Whatever you say, my friend.” Stan said and patted him on the shoulder. Richie rolled his eyes and turned back to the game.

Y/N defeated Beverly for the second time and raised her arms in victory. That’s kinda cute, Richie thought. And he didn’t even second guess or correct himself this time. “We play the winner!” Stan yelled towards Bill and Y/N. “We do?” Richie whispered to him. “Yep, we do.” Stan replied and swam towards them. Richie soon followed suit.

“Okay Richie, get on Stan’s shoulders. Whoever wins the most rounds out of 3 wins.” While Bill explained the game and all the rules, Y/N looked at Bev on the rocks. Bev gave her a wink and a thumbs up, whatever that was supposed to mean.

The game began and she tried her hardest to push Richie off of Stan’s shoulders. “Damn Stan, you got grip!” She laughed and Richie laughed too. Why was he being so friendly all of a sudden? She decided to talk to him about it later, she was having fun and she didn’t want to ruin it.

Richie finally got her off of Bill’s shoulders and she tumbled into the water. She came back up and started laughing along with everyone else. “Y/N, we should clean that up real quick.” Eddie said and pointed to her elbow, which was scratched up. “Oh okay, that’s fine.” She said. “It must have happened when I was fighting Bev because it looks like it already started to heal up. I didn’t notice it at all.” She laughed and went up to the rocks to clean the small wound.

She grabbed the rubbing alcohol from Eddie’s backpack and started pouring some on the edge of a spare towel she brought. “Well, this is gonna hurt.” She said and hissed as she placed it on her elbow. She felt a hand rubbing her back and leaned her back onto the person’s chest, thinking it was Stanley, only to realize as she was reaching for the Neosporin and a bandaid that it was Richie. Since the other losers were maybe 10 feet away, she thought now would be a great time to confront him.

“What’s with you being all chill with me now? I thought you hated me.” She said and Richie sucked in a sharp breath. “Eddie talked to me earlier as about you. He said that I should ‘at least put up with you’ because you were part of the Losers Club and you deserve to be treated with respect because you’re their- our! Our friend.” He explained. Her heart sunk as she thought she realized what he meant.

“Oh, so you’re just being nice to me because you have to be?” She asked, dissapointed. “No no no!! Not at all, I’m genuinely sorry. To be honest... I don’t know why I was such a dick to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve had a mature conversation with you on why I was feeling so insecure and shit instead of ghosting you. Not only did it fuck up our friendship, but it fucked up any chances I had of being with you, as more than friends.” Wait, what did he just say?

“It wasn’t cool and I feel so stupid knowing that I-” “Just shut up.” Y/N cut him off and placed her lips on his. He got over the shock fast, brought his hand up to hold her face, and kissed back. Their moment was cut short by Beverly. “Yeah Tozier, get some!!” She yelled and Y/N giggled as they pulled away and stood up. Richie laughed and flipped her off.

“I know I’m not off scot-free, but does this mean you’ll at least give me a chance?” Richie asks hesitantly as they walk towards the other losers. Y/N put a finger to her chin and pretended to think. “Hmmm... okay. But only one. And we’ll be discussing boundaries and all that jazz tonight when I sneak you through my window and you stay the night.” She says with a serious tone and Richie nodded. He picked her up and spun her around. “Thank youuuuuuuu!” He sets her down and kisses her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Ewwww, do we have to deal with all your gross PDA now?” Ben and Mike say in sync and all the losers laugh. It’s not perfect, she thinks, but it’s pretty fucking close.

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #it chapter 1 #it chapter one #richie tozier x you #richie tozier x y/n

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toziersspaghettihead · 3 years ago

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Fic Rec;

“The bench where the autumn leaves fell upon.”

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Desc: Richie wanted Eddie to be a part of his life, aside from rehab and therapy. Aside from the small park and their walks and conversations about their miserable past and damned fortunes.

So he took a deep breath, and made a move.

"Hey Eddie", Richie said and the other man raised his head to look at him.

"Do you think..", a pause, a nervous scratch on his arm, "Would you want to- to meet me? Like, properly. After all this shit- after rehab?", he asked, a mix of hope and concern underlining his tone.

Richie loved fall and what he loved even more was the fact that he and Eddie met, in fall.

It might have sounded stupid to others if Richie was ever to voice his thoughts, but he was sure him and Eddie had a special bond.

He didn't know if it was because of their rather weird circumstances of getting to know each other or if it was just them getting along well after a pretty short time.

Either way, he did not want to lose any of that.

Two men in their mid-twenties, trying to fix what was left of their damaged souls, trying to heal from their past.

Two different stories, two different paths - and they cross their ways. What's the worst to happen?

—🍂A03 LINK🍂—

🌙Someone very important to me wrote this and I personally feel that it deserves to be seen.🌙

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #reddie #fan fiction #it movie #stanley uris #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #bill denbrough

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ghostnebula · 4 years ago

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Sincere and Dignified

“Eddie's twenty-first birthday + The entire Losers' Club + Las Vegas + Being in love with your best friend = Well, exactly what you'd expect.”

[read it on Ao3]

(or here)

Eddie’s birthday is in November. Which makes him the youngest member of the Losers’ Club. Which makes him the last Loser to turn twenty-one.

Which means they go all-out to celebrate, since it’s the first time they can all (legally) celebrate together. And because they’ve kind of forgone “proper” twenty-first birthday festivities for everyone else, so no one would ever feel left out. Finally, no one needs to be left out of it.

They’ve all been living together for over three years now, they’re all getting close to graduating from college, and they all saved up for this one, because this is pretty much it. The last big, fun, tangible milestone in their young lives. The last “new” thing they’re earning the right to do (legally) after driving and voting. You bet your ass they go ham on Eddie’s birthday plans.

That’s how they end up in Vegas. Several long weeks of planning, lots of money they scraped together into jars over the last few years ready to be spent, checking and double-checking every class syllabus to make sure no one misses anything important on Friday (they have to be at their hotel in time for check-in or, between Stan and Eddie, someone will pitch a fit). Then they’re all piling into Ben’s station wagon with as little luggage as they could manage to bring for a weekend trip (the station wagon is “spacious”; it is not a fucking miracle vehicle).

Roughly ten hours later (five hours for driving, two for check-in plus cramming all their crap into the motel room and then attempting to organize it, one for figuring out and agreeing on where to even start with the partying, two more for getting ready) Eddie Kaspbrak has his first legal drink as a proper twenty-one year old, on this night of November third, and there’s no aftertaste of guilt like usual. He’s got Richie pushing shots into his hands, Mike making sure he’s eating some snacks once in a while so he doesn’t get too trashed too fast, Bev directing bartenders to make the most delicious fucking drinks he thinks he’ll ever taste in his life (Porn Stars, or something else inappropriate like that).

He has Bill, the oldest, practically under oath to stay sober (at least for tonight) so there’s one semi-coherent Loser present to keep the rest of them safe and sane until he can drag them all back to the motel.

He has a wad of cash in his pocket, a chunk of his savings from the past year, ready to blow on booze and gambling and whatever the fuck he wants, because it’s his birthday, so he’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants.

It’s safe, and more importantly, it’s legal, and most importantly, it’s Vegas. He never thought he’d ever have the balls to set foot in a place like this -- the kind of place his mother would demonize when he was a kid. Drinking, before he left Derry and his mom and the vice grip she had on his life, was completely out of the question, let alone getting hammered in a casino in Sin City, of all fucking places, under the care of the “evil little shits” he calls his best friends.

He more than lets loose. He lets twenty-one years of virtually non-stop anxiety unwind in one night.

When he wakes up the next morning, hung over for the first time in his life, it’s almost worth it. Bill’s the only motherfucker awake already, being that he’s the only one who doesn’t have several bottles of vodka et al. to sleep off, and he’s draped across the ratty arm chair in their ratty motel room, channel-surfing with the television volume as low as it can get. The light burns Eddie’s eyes, still, when he lifts his head and -- instead of turning, his head just kind of lolls on his shoulders until he can look at Bill properly.

He wants to ask him to end his suffering, which he can only assume he has yet to see the worst of. Suddenly he understands why aspirin exists. He wants Bill to pump him full of painkillers until he stops feeling like he’s made of electrified cotton. Instead, he says, articulately, “Guh.”

Bill turns his attention from Scooby-Doo to where Eddie is half-lying, trapped under the weight of Richie’s arm and half his chest. Richie is snoring away, glasses askew on his face, a cooling puddle of drool soaking Eddie’s shoulder. It’s gross, but he can’t really complain at this point. He’s accustomed to it by now.

“Ah, he lives.”

“Ugh,” says Eddie.

“I bet,” says Bill. “So, do you want a recap of the events of last night, or did you keep your promise and remember every life-altering decision you chose to make?”

Bill’s voice, which he’s hardly putting much effort into keeping down -- owing to the fact that all his effort is being channeled into trying not to laugh, and Eddie can’t even begin to fathom what’s so funny -- is causing the other Losers to stir. His splitting headache doesn’t want him to try to figure out what’s funny. He must have fried a metric shitload of braincells with all those Porn Stars last night, or whatever the fuck sugary booze Bev was pouring down his throat before everything went hazy.

“Life-altering?” he repeats after a few moments, as Richie’s arm finally stops crushing him. It’s the only word that really stands out to him in the jumbled mess of hangover discomfort his brain is fighting, and it should cause him anxiety but he’s more worried, right now, about drinking some water. Richie sits up beside him, yawning.

Bill hums. He looks terribly pleased with himself, which can be good or bad depending which side of the story you’re on, and Eddie’s got this sneaking suspicion he’s on the wrong side, here. “Yeah, that life-altering thing I tried to talk you two dipshits out of for longer than the actual ceremony took?”

“Ceremony?” Eddie asks, trying to feel back through his poor, poor brain to remember anything after slot machines and vibrant chatter and deceptively sweet beverages being passed to him. Richie’s head drops onto his shoulder as his arms wrap around Eddie’s waist. “Guh,” he says into the fabric of Eddie’s rumpled shirt. Habitually, Eddie reaches up to pat him consolingly on the head. Richie’s not one for mornings.

“Why don’t you take a look at your ring finger, birthday boy?” Bill says, but Eddie’s already frozen, because there was a flash when he raised his hand and he’s not entirely sure he’s believing what he’s seeing, and where the fuck did he even get the ring anyway, let alone a ring as nice as this? “Or, sorry, I should say: Mr. Tozier?”

Eddie... mostly ignores him, in favour of smacking Richie a few times on the skull to get his attention, hangovers be damned. “Richie,” he hisses, heart going a mile a minute. “The fuck did I do?”

Richie grumbles some kind of complaint, lifting his head from its safe space on Eddie’s shoulder, and when he follows Eddie’s gaze he lets out a kind of... laugh? More of a squawk, really. His left arm jerks off of Eddie’s waist lightning-quick, and then he’s holding up his own hand beside Eddie’s to show off their matching rings. “Oh my god,” he says, quiet (for Richie). A little bit of tension melts out of him. Then, “I think you mean, ‘the fuck did we do?’”

“Oh my god,” Eddie squeaks, and Bill loses his battle and dissolves into peals of laughter, remote slipping out of his hands and landing somewhere on the floor. “Bill, you were supposed to be babysitting.”

It takes a while, but Bill manages to regain his composure long enough to say, “Well forgive me, but you were a man on a mission. I distinctly remember a lot of, ‘we’re practically dating anyway’ and ‘no time like the present’ and ‘Bill, if you don’t step the fuck off I’m gonna shove this ring so far up your nostril you’ll be sneezing gold until you’re ninety.’ What was I gonna do about it?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie says again, red-faced, mortified, heart still going-going-going. They aren’t dating, though, is the problem, and yeah, he’s always had this stupid little idea in his stupid little head that they might as well be, but he’s never asked, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Wasn’t sure if it was safe. Wasn’t sure if Richie wanted something proper or to just stay very, very close friends until the grave. They weren’t dating, and now they’re married, and ohJesusMaryandJoseph why did he let himself get so drunk last night?

He doesn’t expect Richie to be resentful or anything, but he’s also an anxious mess by default, and post-drunken-haze Eddie is a different, apparently less chill person than mid-drunken-haze Eddie, because he doesn’t remember having this freakout last night.

He doesn’t think that Richie will be pissed about it, necessarily, but he’s terrified that Richie’s going to want to... undo this, somehow.

He expects regret.

He doesn’t expect Richie to slide his hand against Eddie’s so that their rings clack together, letting out a soft little, “Aw,” as he does so, or to press his scratchy, stubbly face against Eddie’s cheek to plant a kiss there, or to say, just as quiet and soft as ever, “We’re married, Eds.”

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks, heart in his throat, wondering if he somehow forced Richie into this when he wasn’t in full control of his faculties.

“More than okay,” Richie says. “Is it okay with you?”

Eddie nods dumbly, staring at their rings again, wondering what the fuck possessed them to make such a rash, life-altering decision like this, yet understanding all too well that his love for Richie is too big to contain and it has to spill out in little doses like this, or it’ll probably kill him, or make him go crazy. “Yeah,” he says finally, nodding perhaps too fast. “Yeah, Richie, it’s more than okay.”

He turns in Richie’s arms to kiss him properly, apparently not for the first time, and just the action brings a couple snippets of last night’s escapades abruptly to the surface.

“$25 Weddings,” a pink neon sign outside a squat white chapel proclaims, “Sincere and Dignified.” And below that, in smaller, baby blue lettering: “Can provide: Flowers, Rings, Witnesses, Transportation, Attire...” The list goes on. It’s a wonder Eddie is coherent enough to read it, let alone comprehend it, but he’s rounding on Richie, whose arm he’s hanging off of, with the best fucking idea already leaping from his lips.

“Ffffffuck Kaspbrak,” Eddie slurs as a reluctant Bill helps him slip on a suit jacket, fiddling with the purple clip-on bowtie Richie threw over the divider at him. “Fuck Kaspbrak, right, Rich?”

“Right,” Richie says enthusiastically -- probably too enthusiastically -- from the other side of the thin wooden divider that separates their “changing rooms.”

“Fuck that name,” Eddie decides, nodding to himself. Bill takes the bowtie out of his hands with a sigh, and Eddie lifts his chin to let Bill fasten it to his shirt, grumbling all the while about how stupid they both are. “And fuck my mom.”

“Fuck your mom!” Richie shouts. There’s a beat of relative quiet, then, “Not, like, fuck your mom, obviously. Fuck... you, maybe?” And then Bev’s raucous laughter echoes through the whole room.

Eddie can’t help laughing with her, even though Bill’s insisting he stay still “so you can at least look semi-presentable for your pictures, c’mon, Eddie, this is a big moment for me, too.”

“How are you the bridezilla, here, Bill?”

“Could you please just work with me here, I swear to-- agh!” (More laughter from Bev. Stan saying something incomprehensible but loud and boisterous. Mike trying to shush them.) “I’m just trying to make sure this is actually special since you absolute buffoons refuse to just wait and do this right.” Is Bill fucking crying?

Richie’s tongue down Eddie’s throat, over and over and over: in the chapel; in a bar; in front of the bar; just before Bill drags them away from the casino they’re trying to sneak back into and instead towards the station wagon he’s doing his best to herd the Losers to; in the station wagon; in front of the motel.

Bill prying them apart with minimal assistance from a piss-drunk Ben who insists he’s “helping,” telling them once again that they are not allowed to consummate their fucking marriage in public, and especially not allowed to do it in the motel room all seven of them have to sleep in--

He hears Bev’s little “aww” behind him somewhere as he and Richie break apart, and Stan’s grief about how fucking early it is “for this shit.” Eddie can hear something like a smile in his voice, if not just plain old amusement.

“We’re married, Rich,” Eddie repeats incredulously, and Bill is saying something about their marriage license in his wallet because neither of them can be trusted, but Eddie couldn’t care less about licenses or whatever, because Richie’s smiling down at him in that way that makes his heart feel too full. And he doesn’t mean to, but a choked noise bubbles up out of him, almost a sob, maybe a laugh. Tears burn in his eyes.

But that’s alright, because Richie’s crying already, and he wraps himself bodily around Eddie, rolling them over so he’s squishing him into the mattress while he kisses all over his face and his throat until Eddie’s squealing with laughter despite his agonizing hangover. He almost feels too good to care about it now, but he’s definitely getting some water and painkillers into his system the second the weird high he’s feeling subsides.

“Okay, okay,” says Stan, standing above them suddenly, swatting at Richie’s shoulders. “You’ve had your fun. Noisy assholes. We were too drunk for proper congratulations last night. Move over.”

All the Losers squeeze themselves onto the queen bed, somehow, and water bottles and aspirin get passed around. At some point Bill gets up to start the coffeemaker and comes back with (good fucking lord) their “wedding photos” in a crisp manila envelope. They’re just as gaudy as he expected. Leave it to Richie to find the ugliest possible outfit for his literal wedding.

Eddie gets hugs and shoulder-squeezes and cheek-kisses from everyone, over and over, and Bev actually cries for about ten full minutes while she holds him, then at least ten more while she holds Richie, and then Ben cries, and... well, they all end up crying all over each other, but it’s awash with joy. “We’re happy for you,” they keep saying, and Eddie’s happy for them, too. He didn’t expect to accidentally do things this way, but he has to be glad it happened.

“God,” he says a while later, shaking his head as he sips sugary coffee from the mug he and Richie are sharing (this room is meant for four people, max, not seven, and is equipped accordingly). He’s still examining a picture of Richie attempting to give him a piggy-back ride out of the chapel. Bill is visible in the background, eyes red and puffy, a wad of tissues clenched in his hand while Mike tries to console him. Eddie has been making fun of him for about half an hour now. “My mom would flip if I told her about this.” But the thought doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t get scared of her anymore. Not like he used to. Not when he’s so far away and he feels so safe with these six idiots who bring so much joy to his life.

Richie’s thumb rubs over the skin of his lower back where his hand has crept up Eddie’s shirt. “Good thing you don’t have to,” he says, and that familiar mantra of “You never have to see her again,” bleeds through, plain as ever.

Eddie hums. Passes the coffee back to him. “I know. But... I kinda want to. Just to watch her head explode,” he says with a shrug and a grin, earning a chorus of easy laughter from his friends. He stares at the ring on Richie’s finger as Richie throws back the rest of their coffee, something warm and familiar blooming brighter in his chest.

#reddie #my writing #oh look i actually found time in the chaos of my life to post this #a miracle #also a fic short enough to just post the whole thing on tumblr???#a second miracle #the losers club #cw alcohol #cw gambling #vegas wedding babey

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19tozier · 4 years ago

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polaroid boy (richie tozier)

request:if/when requests are open (if this is okay bc idk your request rules) could you write an angst fic for reddie based on the song polaroid boy by nicole zefanya, it can be from either persons pov i think that decision is more of a personal one based on who you think fits the song better

warnings: angst, swearing, allusions to sexual things, i tried out some stuff w tense so hopefully it still makes sense lol

[losers + reader are college aged (20/21)]

there is an exquisite beauty in falling in love. in feeling your heart quicken at the sight of their smile, or feeling your cheeks blush at the sound of their laugh. in letting yourself tumble off the edge of the cliff because you are certain they will be there to catch you.

there is an exquisite pain in hitting the ground after they fail to do so.

you want to curse yourself for having stepped off the edge. you aren’t sure you’d have been able to stop yourself from falling anyways, but you did it with no hesitation. you didn’t just trip over the cliff, you leapt off of it. no parachute, no net, no caution. and now you’re the one paying the price for it.

it started, innocently enough, in your first lecture fall semester of your sophomore year. you were still drudging through your gen eds, doing your best to stay motivated through endless classes that weren’t at all related to your major. the lectures made your eyes glaze and your head pound, but you were getting through them. nothing exciting ever happened in them but that was fine with you.

until, of course, richie tozier sat next to you in the middle of a half-empty history lecture, fashionably late and a devil’s smirk on his pretty face.

you’d done your best to ignore him at first, furiously writing down anything and everything the professor said. just because a beautiful boy had sat beside you didn’t mean you would compromise your education. class first, dick later, you thought.

but richie, still wearing that gorgeous smirk, had leaned into your side and murmured, “you look a little tense there, doll. want some help with that?” and his left eye had dropped in a wink that sent prickles down your spine.

fuck, had you wanted to slap him for such a suggestive comment. did he always go around propositioning random girls? you were certain the answer was yes, and yet... part of you loved the attention, and another part of you wanted to keep those blue eyes on you at all times.

you’d scowled, glaring at him, refusing to rise to his bait and give him the response he so obviously wanted. you’d pointedly turned back to your professor, ignoring richie for the remainder of the class.

you’d expected him to give up the chase, maybe find another girl who’d take kindly to his attempts at seduction, but he’d stayed by your side while you packed up your bag and walked out beside you, body in a long loose sprawl as he asked—no, begged—you to let him take you to lunch. and were you really going to turn down a free meal? he may be irritating, but you weren’t stupid.

and oh, had he irritated you. it felt like he had been drawn straight from your own personal hell to drive you crazy, but there was something charming about him. something that drew you in despite your earlier reluctance.

he’d leaned across the table at lunch, smirk softened into something sweeter, and brushed his thumb along your cheek. “you’ve got somethin’ here, love,” he’d murmured, his eyes smoky.

“thanks,” you'd rasped, subtly crossing your legs and praying he didn’t notice your blush.

you’d caved and given him your number at the end of your maybe-date. you were still operating under the idea that he wouldn’t want to see you again, so hey, you’d figured, what the hell?

but he had. he’d texted you that night, a simple hey there sugar ;), and against your will your heart had started pounding. your hands shook as you carefully typed out we’ve known each other for a day and you’ve called me how many nicknames?

you’d laughed, irritation be damned, when he had responded almost immediately: i can add on a few more. put it on my tab, toots.

you found, slowly but surely, that richie was charming and funny and obnoxious in a way that made you want more. he was crass, yes, and sometimes he made you want to gouge your own eyes out, but he was softer and sweeter than you’d ever have thought to give him credit for. and it was horrible for you, really, because there was nothing to stop you from developing feelings.

but there were nights where you curled up with richie in your dorm room, squished together on your too-small bed, your roommate blessedly gone for the night, watching shitty movies on your laptop with takeout scattered around you. nights where you were certain that everything you felt for him was reciprocated.

he had pressed his lips into your hair, his glasses digging into the top of your head. “this movie is something else, doll,” he’d murmured to you, tilting his chin towards where you were forcing him to watch the room with you. “not sure i know what’s going on anymore.”

you’d laughed, twisting your head to kiss his jaw. “that’s the point,” you had grinned. “this movie is so bad that it’s fantastic.”

he’d snorted, the tips of his fingers sliding under your t-shirt and tracing circles into the bare skin of your back. “not quite the word i’d use but sure, toots. i’ve definitely lost the plot though.”

you’d frowned, reaching to pause it to look up at him. “i can rewind it if you want?”

he’d smirked, reaching gentle fingers to cradle the curve of your jaw, turning your face towards him. “i can think of something better to do,” he’d purred, and his lips and his body had silenced any objection you could’ve had. not that you did, really.

he’d had that effect on you. time and time again, he had turned you into a bumbling idiot, a lovesick fool, a damned clown. you were the court jester in his kingly eyes, the puppet beneath his talented hand, the doll to sit high on his shelf. people thought it was he that was the bozo, but no; he played you like it was his job and you were too stupid to ever realize how masterful he was.

you’d giggled to him, stretched out in the quad with your head in his lap. he’d been leaning against a tree, one hand absently stroking through your hair, the other holding up a book for class. you had been fucking around with the polaroid camera your friend had bought you for your birthday, taking pictures of the trees and the students around you but mostly of richie himself.

“what’s up, sugar?” he’d murmured, glancing down from his book. his glasses had nearly slid off of his nose.

you’d reached up to correct them, smiling at him. “nothing, nothing. you just look cute. very photogenic.”

he’d rolled his eyes, bookmarking the page he was on and setting the book aside to fully give you his attention. “cute? me? damn baby, maybe you need these glasses more than i do.”

you’d scowled at him, as annoyed as ever that he never seemed to understand how gorgeous he was. “you take that back right now, asshole.”

he had laughed, grinning down at you. his palm had slid along your stomach, warm and secure against your skin, and his eyes had shone in the sunlight. “you always say the sweetest things, doll,” he’d teased.

he’d ducked to kiss you before you could respond, slow and deep and searching, and you had melted back against the grass. it was rare for him to initiate something like this in public, enough that you had kissed him back and not had a single other thought. when he walked you to class, he didn’t reach for your hand; when you met him for lunch, he didn’t kiss you hello or goodbye; when you studied together in the library, he never sat close enough to touch. at the time, you had simply thought he was reserved with his affections.

those polaroids you had taken were the first of many, proudly hung up on the wall of your dorm next to your bed. they weren’t all of richie: some of you and your roommate, some of your friends from your classes, some of the friends of richie’s you had met only once. but most of them had been of richie, because you were smitten and you couldn’t do anything about it.

every time he came over, every time he saw them, his face had done something complicated that you had never understood—a frown to a grimace to a smile that he forced on.

looking back, you wonder about every sign that you had missed. could you have saved yourself the heartbreak if you had simply paid attention? could you have gotten yourself out with your dignity?

it had never even occurred to you to define what you and richie were. you were stupid and young and content to just be able to love him, even if you hadn’t known him long. you never thought to ask him if you were dating, or if he was your boyfriend or not. you really fucking wish you had.

it came to a head not long after. richie had come over like usual, a spring to his step and a bite to his words that had been there for weeks now. he’d been a ghost of himself, eyes flickering around to see who was watching whenever you saw him on campus, not responding to your messages for hours, jumping whenever he saw you. you had just wanted him to relax for a bit.

you’d curled into his chest, laughing along with him to the stupid horror movie you were watching. “it doesn’t even look real,” you’d giggled, pointing to the spray of blood from on-screen.

richie had snorted. “‘cause it’s not real, it’s probably chocolate syrup.”

you had rolled your eyes, poking at his chest. “i know that, smartass. i’m talking about the effects.”

“i’m talking about the effects,” he had mimicked you, pitching his voice higher and sticking his tongue out at you.

you’d scowled, pinching his side. “you’re annoying and one of these days i’ll murder you.”

“oh, is that a promise?” he’d grinned, lopsided and too damn sexy for his own good. “not one of my kinks, i’ll admit, but damn, what a way to go.”

“oh, for the love of—” you’d lunged forward, knocking him onto his back and almost pitching the two of you off the side of the bed. he’d grabbed onto your waist to hold you steady. “i want to strangle you! with my bare hands!”

“that’s hot.” and he’d laughed, the motherfucker, like the sound of it didn't live inside of your ribcage and swim through your bloodstream. every inch of him was something specially designed to get under your skin and make a home there.

it still has a home there.

you’d growled, whaling on him with gentle fists that he did absolutely nothing to combat. he’d just kept laughing, holding your wrists in his big hands, glasses skewed. “you’re awful and i really fucking wish i didn’t love you.”

all at once, it had gone silent and he had gone tense. the expression on his face had not been the elation you had been hoping for; it was horror, plain and simple, and the shock of it had pitched you sideways off of his lap.

“you love me?” he’d asked through trembling lips, looking anywhere but you.

slowly, you had nodded. your voice had disappeared. and he’d nodded back, one short frantic movement, and then vaulted himself off of the bed.

“richie—”

“i didn’t think we were that serious,” he’d said, yanking his shoes on. “i thought we were just having fun.” like it was nothing. like you were nothing.

tears had welled in your eyes and your chest had ached with the force of it. your heart, which you had thought was safe in richie’s hands, was being crushed and ripped to shreds and you could do nothing but watch.

“richie, wait—”

but he had shrugged you off, forceful in the way he had pushed you back. the look in his eyes was wild and terrified and you didn’t recognize him anymore.

he hadn’t looked back at you, in the end. he had just shouldered his backpack and grabbed his phone and disappeared out the door. he hadn’t paused when you sobbed out his name one more time. he hadn’t even faltered.

foolishly, oh so foolishly, you’d held on to hope that that wasn’t the end. that you’d simply overwhelmed him and he just needed time. but as the days stretched into weeks and your texts and calls had remained unanswered, your hope had died the same way your heart had.

you had taken that fatal plunge; the ground was hard when you’d hit it.

you still have the polaroids. you’d taken them down after a few weeks, too hurt to see yours and richie’s smiling faces when he had disappeared from your life. but you still have them, in the shoebox you keep under your bed. and there are nights like tonight where you pull them out to stare at them.

your chest aches, the tears in your throat choking you. you should be all cried out by now but you aren’t that lucky. it seems every reminder of him is destined to detonate something inside of you.

you can still feel his smile on your lips. you can still taste his laughter. you can still hear the stupid voices he’d do to make you giggle. you can still feel him in your heart.

richie hurt you. god, had he hurt you. he’d hurt you so badly you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to smile again. but you’re still in love with him and you don’t think it’ll ever go away.

he’ll forever be the boy in your polaroids, the one that made you feel on top of the world and the one that made you feel like you were six feet under. you won’t ever be able to hear his favorite song without hearing it in his voice. you won’t ever be able to love again without feeling his imprint in your heart.

there’s something magical about falling in love. you won’t take that back. but on nights like this, you wish you never fell.

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asteriismos · 5 years ago

Text

Hard To Get -- Richie Tozier

Authors Note : I got this idea randomly and just had to write it. Idk if it is even that good but here I go

Warning(s) : smut, seventeen! losers club

Synopsis : As far as anyone knew in school, Y/N was untouchable by anyone. However, Richie Tozier plans to change that.

As far as anyone was concerned, Y/N L/N was off limits.

And it wasn't because you had a boyfriend. Quite the contrary in fact. You just didn’t think that high school guys were worth your time. It wasn't that unbelievable, most of them don’t bathe, expected a call back always, or put too much cologne on to the point where you gagged while passing them in the hallways.

Most people just rolled their eyes and called you picky.

You get what you can get, Y/N.

They’re not that bad once you give them a chance.

You weren't going to budge. Besides you had better things to do anyways in school. It was your senior year so the classes were the hardest you had ever had before, exams were coming up, and you had a social life that you tried to keep throughout all of the homework and studying bullshit. You had convinced yourself that you didn’t have time for a boyfriend, or even a one night stand.

You used to be like that in your junior year of high school, going around parading yourself like a full course meal in front of the boys in your class. It scored you about two hookups, and after both of them happened, you decided to make some major changes to your life. Your mother told you that boys weren't going to get you anywhere, so you rolled with that.

That was until Richie Tozier came along.

“I don’t understand it,” Richie Tozier exclaims to Eddie Kaspbrak and Stanley Uris in seventh period study hall. “Holly calls me, tells me that she wants to go on a date, and then the minute she hooks up with me, she's horrible.” He was aware that the people seated around him and his two friends could probably hear their conversation, but it’s not like it mattered anyways. So what if the whole student body knew Holly was a bitch and bad in bed, Richie didn’t care.

Eddie sighed, “You keep believing that all the popular girls are what you need, and then once you’re proven wrong, you keep believing it anyways.”

Maybe he was right. The girls at the school who threw themselves around like confetti were the worst people, and honestly, Richie didn’t want to give them any of his time if he was just going to get more depressed after the interaction.

“Yeah, but almost all the girls are like that at this goddamn school, name one that isn’t,” Richie said.

“Well, there’s Y/N,” Stan said quietly, waving his hand in an ‘I don’t know’ kind of manner.

Richie laughed, full belly laughed to fill the silence in the room. The teacher looked up from her book and gave him a look before shaking her head, putting her hand on her forehead and going back to whatever she was reading. Richie looked at Stan and said, “I don’t think Y/N has been like that since last year with what’s his face.” He was referring to your last hookup, Kevin Graden. The whole school probably remembered the day after you two hooked up and he yelled down the courtyard towards you that he wanted to marry you. It was embarrassing, not even for Kevin, but for you as well.

“So? You just implied that all the girls throw themselves around like candy, but she doesn’t,” Stan was now looking up from his calculus homework and at Richie instead. “What? Do you not think you could get her? Is that it, Tozier?”

Richie bit his lip, thinking of you. You were pretty kind towards him whenever he asked you questions in chemistry class, and you never did get mad at him for his stupid jokes. You were probably the only girl that hasn’t had some kind of a thing with a guy in the past year. Maybe he should go for you.

“No, I know I can get her,” Richie stated, pushing Stanley in the shoulder in a teasing manner. “Just wait and see, Uris.”

The bell rang, and it was now the passing period to get to 8th. Richie’s last class was chemistry, just like yours. He would figure out a way to ask you out on a date and work his way from there.

Once he stepped into class, he saw that you were already sitting in your seat, the one in front of his own towards the back of the classroom. Richie admired how the sun shined just perfectly on your H/C hair, damn, you were actually really cute.

He walked to his desk and sat down, pushing up his glasses by the rim and getting out his notebook from his backpack. You were doing the same, but dropped a pencil that you were reaching for. It rolled backwards on the floor and landed by Richie’s backpack. Before you could reach down and grab it, his hand was already there, grabbing the pencil and sitting up to look at you.

You looked at Richie and smiled, taking the pencil from his hand, saying, “Thanks, Rich.”

“It’s no problem Y/N,” Richie said. You were about to turn back around in your seat, but he interjected and said, “Hey, actually Y/N, I was meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I was thinking,” He started, looking into your eyes through his glasses. “That maybe you and I could go to the ice cream parlor tonight?”

Your face showed some confusion for a moment, and then displayed shock when you realized that he was trying to ask you on a date.

“Rich, I-”

“Before you say no, just hear me out. Give me a shot, okay? I’m not looking to hook up with you, just a date.”

It was a minute of silence, and then finally, once the teacher started class, you turned around and whispered : yes.

And that sealed the deal. You went on the date with Richie and you enjoyed it more than you thought you would. He was funny, and he payed for the double scoop cone that you got. And then afterwards, he walked you home and gained a kiss on the cheek from you once he made sure you were at your home safely.

You hated to admit it, but dating actually wasn't that bad. With Richie it seemed normal, it seemed like you didn't have to try and flaunt yourself around. And he never stepped over the boundaries that you had put in place. Every time he kissed you he made sure that it was right to do so, and when you two really got into it, he wouldn't push it further. It was a little strange that he hadn't tried anything, especially since he himself wasn't the most innocent boy in Derry. You had heard the stories of the numerous hookups he’s had.

It had been two months since that initial date, and you two were now basically an exclusive couple. You hung out with his friends more often than not and you actually really liked them. They were all nice to you, and they were a good crowd, way better than the ones you’ve been in in the past.

That’s where you were heading now, to get to the lunch table that you shared with Richie, Stanley, Eddie, Bill, Ben, and Beverly. You could see it as you walked closer, seeing that Richie was already there with an open seat next to his own for you, and Stanley was there sitting next to Eddie. The other three were probably still in the lunch line.

Richie had his back to you, not seeing you walking closer to the table. As you got closer, you heard his voice, saying, “Yeah. We’re so close.”

Close? Close to what?

You slowed your walking down to stand there to eavesdrop more.

“I’ll be in her pants by the end of the week, I just know it,” Richie said to Stan and Eddie. The two of them looked past him and saw you standing there, your mouth agape, hands beginning to shake under the lunch tray that you held.

Richie stopped talking, giving a confused to Eddie when the smaller boy pointed behind him and at you.

You didn't know whether to scream or cry, but both of them seemed to come out at the same time. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill out past your eyelashes once Richie turned around to face you. He knew that he had fucked up, he knew that there was no way that he could get out of this. Still, he tried to bargain with you.

“Y/N I-”

You cut him off. “Don’t. Don’t try to make this better Richie, I knew that you just wanted to get with me.”

He shook his head, walking towards you. You backed away, saying, “I didn’t want to fucking believe it, I thought that you were a good guy. But of course you had to get me, right? You heard the stories and you thought to yourself, man, I need to tap that. Well, too bad Tozier. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again.”

Your shaking hands threw your lunch tray towards him, the pasta being served by the lunch lady was now spilled over the hawiian shirt that he wore, splattering onto his glasses. Before he could say anything else to you, you were running outside the building, turning the corner and beginning to cry harder.

You silently cursed yourself for letting this happen. You knew that you should’ve said no to him, that you should’ve listened to your inner voice and continued being single. But you had been so tired of being lonely.

The worst part was, you actually really began to like Richie. But no, he had broken your heart. He didn’t really like me, you thought to yourself.

And for the next two weeks, you didn’t talk to him at all. He never abided by your wishes of him doing the same. He always showed up to try and make up for his actions, tapping your shoulder in chemistry class to try and make you turn around, showing up at your locker after school. Hell, he even showed up at your house once. Each time you would look at him and then pretend like you didn't hear anything that he was saying.

It really hurt to pretend that you wanted nothing to do with him when you so desperately did, but you weren't going to let yourself fall into his trap.

It was Friday night around six, your mom and dad went out on a date night so the house was to yourself. you were sitting in your room finishing up an English essay when your phone rang. You squinted your eyes in confusion, since you had only given out your personal phone number to a few people. One of those people being Richie, who you suspected was calling to try and make up. Half of you told yourself to go to your bathroom and take a shower, giving you more of a reason to avoid him if he called again. But the other half wanted to answer it, so you could finally give Richie a piece of your mind.

The latter ended up winning, so you grabbed your phone and pulled it so that the cord reached to your seat at your desk.

“Hello?” You said, waiting to hear Richie’s I’m so sorry’s and please forgive me’s.

“Hey, Y/N?” Stanley Uris.

“Stan, hey. Sorry I thought that you were Richie,” You said with a tiny laugh.

You heard a laugh on the other end of the line, followed by, “Yeah, I understand that. That’s what I’m actually calling you about.”

“If you’re going to apologize for him, tell him he can shove his apology up his-”

“No,” He interjected. “This is all from me, I swear.”

“Go on then.”

“I was the one who told him that he should go for you. I didn’t think that he was actually going to do it. And even when he did ask you out on a date, I thought that he was only trying to get with you to fuck,” He said. “ But as time went on and you two went on more dates, I could tell that he was really starting to like you a lot. He didn’t mean the things that he said. Hell, he hasn’t shut up about you for the past two weeks.”

“Then why did he say those things?” You asked. That was still the part that didn’t make much sense.

“He’s Richie. He’s stupid,” Stan said. You two both shared a laugh before he started talking again.

“He really likes you Y/N and he’s really sorry. I guess I’m asking you to give him another chance. Richie called me about ten minutes ago and said that he was going to go to your house and try and apologize, but that this was the last time. He’ll leave you alone after this if you want him to. So if you really want nothing to do with him, then you have the chance to tell him once he’s there. Bye Y/N.”

The line disconnected.

You heard the doorbell ring and you knew exactly who it was.

Opening the door once you reached it, you saw Richie standing there, dressed in a black sweater and shorts. His hair was disheveled and he seemed to have been previously deep in thought.

“Before you shut the door on my face, please just hear me out Y/N. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I’ll leave but-”

“Shut up and kiss me Tozier.”

You leaned forward, clashing your lips against his own and balling your hand on his chest with his sweater in your fist. He kissed you back, pulling you closer to him with his arms wrapping around your waist.

After a few minutes, you pulled away and wasted no time pulling him into your house, closing the door and pulling him into your room. You once again kissed him again, his glasses fogging due to the hot contact. The kiss was a little sloppy, but nonetheless it felt good. You forgot how much you missed him.

“Wait, wait,” Richie pulled away from you, putting his hand on your cheek to make sure you were looking into his eyes. “We don’t have to - I know how you feel about stuff like this and we don’t have to. You don’t have to forgive me this way if you don’t want to.”

You breathed out, your eyes never leaving his as you pulled off your shirt, throwing it behind him. His eyes widened.

“I do want this, I want you, Rich,” You said, almost pleading with him. Your hands pawed at his chest, reaching down at the edges of his sweater, silently asking if you could pull it off.

His arms raised up in an answer, allowing you to pull off his sweater and putting your hands on his toned chest.

He kissed you this time, pushing you to walk backwards until you were falling onto your bed. Your hands moved to push away the blankets and pillows, giving him room to lay down on top of you. His hands went to your sides, rubbing up and down gently, causing you to moan in his mouth. He took that chance to slip his tongue past your teeth, exploring before pulling away and peppering kisses along your jawline.

Your hands went to his hair, pulling on his curly locks with adoration. You watched as he kissed your collarbone, neck, and chest. He didn't leave one spot unkissed, wanting to show you how much he truly felt for you. You were starting to get a bit impatient, wanting to see him in whole and feel him inside of you. You hadn’t had sex in a while and you forgot how good it felt. In addition, you knew that with Richie it was going to different than every other time. He truly cared for you, he wasn't just in it for the fuck.

“Richie, please, I want you now,” You whispered, pulling on his hair once again and watching him get rid of the rest of both your clothing.

He was positioned at your entrance, looking up at you for clarification for the last time to make sure that this was truly okay.

You nodded, hissing a tiny bit when he pushed into you and stretched you out. His hands came up to hold your face, his thumb rubbing your cheeks lovingly. He didn't move, waiting for you to give him the okay. When you whispered a soft go on, he started thrusting in and out at a slower pace, finally getting a good pace.

He thought that you looked beautiful, your hair spread on the bed like a halo as he made love to you. Your skin was glistened with sweat and made you look so gorgeous, it almost took his breath away. You thought that Richie also looked super good above you, his lips pink and flushed, just like his cheeks that he puffed out.

You knew you could never get enough of him.

“Rich,” You moaned out, your fingers pressing into his back. His hand came down and messed with your clit, allowing you to get more and more close to your release. “I think I’m going to-”

“Let it out, darling,” He whispered, kissing you once again.

And you did, your high sneaking up on you and crashing you into a wall of pleasure. His hand helped you ride it out, as well as you started to move your hips with his to help him reach his own.

Richie finally did pulling out quickly, and soon enough both of you were muttering each others names and laid there together, breathing in and out in euphoria.

He got up and grabbed a towel from your laundry basket and wiped everything off of you and in between your legs, then laid down next to you and enveloped you into his arms, not letting go for dear life.

It was silent for another five minutes. Both of you just laying with each other, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other.

“I think I love you,” You muttered to him, turning around and facing him. You kissed the tip of his nose, a smile appearing on your face as he grinned.

“I think I love you too, Y/N.”

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #IT movie #it movie imagine #it movie 2017 #it movie 2019 #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier smut #it movie x reader

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octoberobserver · 5 years ago

Text

“Just To Dream In The Moonlight” - (Eddie Can Sing)

Richie Tozier was on a date.

Eddie Kaspbrak was not.

Instead, he was at home, the home he had been sharing with Richie for five months now, hunched over his laptop at the kitchen table and steadily building up a knot in the base of his spine because he was too fucking old for this shit.

Fuck his life.

He had died, come back, divorced his wife, moved half-way across the country, only to find himself working from home on a Saturday night while his roommate, best friend and, oh yeah, love of his pathetic fucking life, went out to dinner with some handsome, single, ‘Instagram model.’

I mean, what the fuck even is that anyway?

Eddie knew this day would come, of course. Had seen it almost instantly after Richie came out, live on stage.

Richie was a catch. He was funny, smart, and…yeah, he’d admit, handsome. Bev was right. He did ‘grow into his looks.’

So, it didn’t take a genius to realise that him coming out would soon draw the attention of all the eligible men within a hundred mile radius and for them to show their interest. They’d be fools not to.

And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Kaspbrak?

With a groan, Eddie dragged a palm down his face, snapping his laptop shut and pushing it away from him.

He had to cut out this wallowing bullshit. It wasn’t a good look, at all.

Richie was on a date and that was…good.

Right?

Eddie, as a good friend, should think that’s a good thing.

Then again - has Eddie always been a good friend?

With a roll of his eyes, he shut down that line of thinking, knowing it was the blame of the two glasses of wine he had just inhaled while pouring over Teddy’s illegible ‘reports’ while trying to ignore what Richie could possibly be doing right about now.

Or who, his mind added scathingly.

Shaking his head, Eddie mentally-scolded himself for his stupid, jealous streak.

Richie had left just over an hour ago, throwing him a half-hearted wave, muttering a low, “Won’t be long, Eds. Trust me,” and snapping the door shut behind him.

It hardly screamed a guy who intended on having a little Wham, Bam, Thank you, Sam.

Not that there’s anything wrong with a one-night-stand. Richie is a consenting adult, Eddie’s treacherous brain reminded him.

Despite this, Richie had insisted, all this week that it was “practically a business dinner.” Something that his publicist had apparently set up that was more than a little mandatory for some bullshit-Hollywood-reason.

Richie had not seemed too psyched about it either. Lamenting to Eddie more than once that he didn’t have time for “aging-ex-Disney-stars-looking-for-the-ultimate-selfie-or-whatever.”

But that had been before he had seen the picture.

Up-and-coming actor and singer, Dylan Lemass was…hot. Even Eddie could concede that.

And, he was a little more age-appropriate (at 33) than most guys DMing Richie at four in the morning.

Richie hadn’t been quite quick enough at hiding his impressed eyebrow quirk at the picture sent to him by Bev after some googling.

“He looks…nice,” Eddie had ground out through clenched jaw, heart panging as Richie began to nod.

“Uh, yeah. I guess. If…if that’s your type.”

“Richie, that guy is everybody’s type.”

He had looked at Eddie then, something indecipherable on his face.

“I’m not usually into…blonds.”

Usually.

That had been the only word to ring in Eddie’s head.

“Well,” he forced himself to shrug, punching Richie harder than he intended on the shoulder, “just see how it goes. You never know…he might…he might be your Mr Right.”

Fuck, actually, Eddie was a damn good friend, okay? He had encouraged Richie, “Mr Right” and all that shit, and helped him pick between two (admittedly ugly) shirts and everything.

He was friend of the fucking year.

Friend.

Just a friend.

With a sigh, he crossed to the fridge, fully intending to help himself to the leftover cheesecake that Richie had bought them in celebration of four months of Eddie allowing himself dairy again.

“I know you belong to somebody new,” he sang under his breath, the old song he had heard on the radio this morning continuing to be an ear-worm, “but tonight, you belong to me.”

He crossed the kitchen to get a spoon from the drawer, because it was an eating-straight-from-the-container-despite-that-being-gross kinda night, and sticking it directly into the strawberry mousse.

“Although we’re apart, you’re a part of my heart,” he continued, cheesecake in one hand and picking up his half-empty glass with the other, making his way out to the couch.

“But tonight, you belong to—”

“A bit of Eddie Vedder, huh? Eddie squared, I like it.”

He jumped so high that his red wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the glass.

“Fuck, Richie! Don’t scare me like that, dipshit!”

The man in question snorted out a laugh from his position at the front door, keys still in hand, jacket half off one shoulder.

“I did say ‘honey I’m home,’ Eds. Not my fault you were too busy crooning to notice.”

Eddie’s face flushed as he collected himself, carefully depositing his glass and cheesecake on the coffee table before straightening up and tilting his head at his friend.

“You’re home early.”

He didn't mean for it to sound as accusatory as it did.

He winced.

“I mean, uh…how’d the date go?”

Richie’s face was pretty expressionless as he shrugged.

“We wined, dined and sixty-nined. Just how I like it.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

“Wha—”

“I’m kidding, Eddie, Jesus,” Richie held up his hands as he kicked off his shoes, leaving them by Eddie’s on the rack by the door and padding over in his socks to the couch, sinking down into it with a loud sigh.

“It went exactly like I thought it would,” he mumbled to the ceiling, slipping his glasses up his forehead to rest in his hair, his eyes falling closed.

Eddie watched him for a moment, unsure what to do, before taking a seat beside him, turning to properly look at him.

He seemed…tired. Weary.

Sad?

Shit.

Time for Eddie to be a good friend.

“Well, fuck that guy, Rich,” he reached out and clasped Richie’s arm. “He’s clearly a dumbass if he can’t see what a fucking catch you are.”

Slowly, those dark eyes that Eddie loved so much blinked open, meeting his with something indistinguishable glimmering in them.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

It was the most sincere Eddie had heard his friend be in a long time.

It made his heart skip a beat.

Quietly, he reached out and picked up the glass and cheesecake, holding it out.

“Wanna watch that new Chris Hansen exposé?”

A small smile crossed Richie’s face, breaking through the weariness like a soothing balm.

“Sounds like a plan, Eds Spagheds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, throwing the remote at him before standing up.

“I’m opening another bottle. Don’t start without me.”

He crossed the room, into the kitchen and towards the fridge.

“He couldn’t sing for shit either, Eds,” Richie called after him, sounding pained. “He made me suffer through like four YouTube videos of him squawking his way through covers. I wanted to use the steak knife to stab out my own eardrums. It was fucking torture, man. You’re a hell of a lot nicer to listen to.”

Eddie froze, bottle in hand, the soft, unthinking compliment making him blush from head to toe.

“Eddie Vedder is technically a cover too,” he reminded him as he fought (and failed) to keep the grin from his face.

“Yeah, I know but…least it’s not the Patience and Prudence version. Talk about creepy. That’s some Children-of-the-Corn-type shit.”

Eddie snorted out a laugh as he made his way back into the living room, sinking down into the couch, his stomach lurching as his thigh pressed against Richie’s.

Richie held out his cheesecake-topped spoon, dangling it in Eddie’s face and making obnoxious airplane noises.

“Want some before I infect it with my Trashmouth germs, Eds? It’s a one time deal. I know how you feel about double-dipping.”

Eddie leaned forward, closing his mouth around the spoon, eyes gluing to Richie’s as he swallowed the bite and pulled back slowly.

Richie’s eyes were the size of saucers, clearly shocked that Eddie had called his bluff.

“Uh, I…” he cleared his throat, “it’s good?”

Eddie smirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

“Cool.”

They lapsed into a short silence, Richie shifting to face the TV just as Chris Hansen popped up and launched into his latest case.

“Thanks, Eds. For the uh…cheesecake.”

He nodded, deciding not to comment as Richie kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, his shoulder pressing into his as he slowly, carefully, raised the spoon to his own lips.

Eddie blushed like a teenager as he kept his gaze firmly on the TV, trying not to think about the fact that Richie so easily put his mouth somewhere Eddie just had his.

At about the twenty-five minute mark, Eddie felt a soft, familiar pressure close to his neck.

Tilting his head ever so slightly, he saw that Richie had fallen asleep, his cheek pressed into Eddie’s shoulder, his glasses askew.

A small smile spread across his face as Eddie let his own head tip back a little, resting against the couch, the lyrics of that godforsaken song flittering into his brain.

“Wait down by the stream, how sweet it will seem, once more just to dream in the moonlight…”

(Read the entire series here)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #eddie can sing #my fanfiction #happy birthday to richie tozier #hope in some universe he got his happy ending...in more ways than one

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richiefuckfacetozier · 5 years ago

Text

Why Can't This Be Love

Chapter 1: Here It Comes

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Click to read on Archive

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Title - Why Can't This Be Love by Van Halen

Dedicated to @slashpalooza and @sam-i-am2468

___

Eddie’s Tuesday started out as it normally did. Half a grapefruit for breakfast, thoroughly shower, text his best friend, Richie, a stupid meme, call Mike to confirm lunch for tomorrow, work from 8am to 6pm, and come home to pour himself a glass of wine.

Right now he was pouring 4 glasses because around 3:00pm, Beverly called asking if her and Ben could come by to tell him something exciting and that Richie had to be there too. He was not sure what they could possibly want to talk about with the two of them. Eddie tried to push down the anxiety that they might be angry about something. He was pretty sure he didn’t do anything horrible recently, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Richie! Can you help me?” Eddie shouted from the kitchen of his apartment. “I don’t have enough hands to carry everything!”

“Coming, my love!” Richie joked annoyingly. Although Eddie didn’t find it entirely annoying, it’s just Richie being ridiculous.

His tall friend padded into the kitchen wearing his worn out leather jacket that he thought made him look cool, a print shirt with a meme on it that Eddie didn’t get, and jeans, “I know what they are going to tell us.” Richie stated confidently with a little bounce in his step.

“Did they tell you already? That’s not fair!” Eddie said in frustration. “They couldn’t wait two more damn minutes?”

“No, I have a guess, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds.”

“I think Ben finally got the courage to propose to Beverly.” Richie went on with a smile. “Or she grabbed him by the balls and told him to do it.”

Eddie snorted at the imagery and wouldn’t put it past Bev to be that aggressive but probably wouldn’t to the love of her life. “That’s wonderful if it’s the news.”

“I bet you 50 bucks it is,” Richie challenged, “Ben was looking mighty anxious at Bill’s wedding a year ago.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, “I barely remember Bill’s wedding. I was so blackedout.”

Richie rolled his eyes dramatically, “You were stupidly mourning the loss of Myra the hydra.” Eddie cringed at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

“Be nice, Rich.” Eddie frowned. He pulled out a packet of thin mint girl scout cookies for all of them to snack on.

Richie rolled his eyes as he sipped quickly from the glass of wine, clearly not finished speaking, “I don’t know why either. She was a carbon copy of your mother. Her leaving was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“Yes, being extremely single has done wonders for my self-esteem.” Eddie mumbled.

Richie leaned over and flicked Eddie’s nose, “You’re a catch, dummy.”

He yelped, rubbing his nose and getting goosebumps from their intensely close position. Eddie grabbed the other two glasses, thin mints and turned on his heel to walk out of the kitchen. “Fine, 50 bucks it isn’t an engagement.”

“Sweet! Also, those pants look good on you.” Richie pointed out following from behind him.

Eddie’s cheeks heated up a little, he purposely wore these dark navy blue jeans because Richie always compliments them. He wondered if Richie remembered that he did this every time. Eddie doubted it. When it was just the two of them, Richie constantly tried to make Eddie feel special and wanted. Eddie suspected Richie did it because he felt sorry for him, but he couldn’t be sure. Despite knowing his best friend pretty well, he was also a huge enigma. Constantly says whatever is on his mind, does the most spontaneous - borderline suicidal - things, and keeps a smile on his face no matter what he may be feeling.

They plop down on the couch in Eddie’s living room. His place was what Richie called a ‘clean mess’, probably the best description of Eddie ever said. He had the habit of hoarding things he didn’t really need. Piles of books on every table that he had already read, knick-knacks from trips, more candles than any one person needed on all open surfaces. He had really nice furniture that matched well in a blend of warm colors. Beverly and Ben sat in two mahogany chairs across from them, holding hands.

Eddie placed the wine glasses on monster movie poster coasters that Richie gifted him years ago when they were teens. They grew up together and remained close throughout the years, regardless of college or moving around. In fact, Eddie had six very close friends from childhood. The group called themselves the Losers Club, a title courtesy of Richie.

“Thanks, Eddie!” Beverly said nicely. Ben thanked him too. Richie sat beside Eddie, the side of their thighs touching as he scooted closer to hand him wine. Eddie always felt so comfortable around all his friends, they were the only ones he let be touchy with him. He used to hate germs and be easily disgusted by everything, but when the people he was closest with shared food, drinks, and beds with him, that feeling went away gradually.

“Alright, lads,” Richie started up with a newsies kid accent. “What’s the scoop? Striking Pulitzer again?”

“Well,” Ben’s round cheeks turned pink as he said, “We’ve got pretty big news.” Eddie observed Ben take both Beverly’s hands into his own big ones.

Beverly was practically jumping in her seat, her flamming red short curls bouncing against the sides of her face. She shared a big smile with Ben as she blurted out, “WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!”

“FUCK YES!” Richie shouted. He flew off the couch tackling Beverly in a huge hug.

“Please, don’t hurt my girlfrie-I mean fiancé.” Ben said softly, clearly surprised how much he enjoyed calling her that.

Eddie got up to hug Ben tightly, saying congratulations. Beverly kissed both men before they sat back down. Eddie raised his glass. “Cheers, to two people who’s friendship, romance, and love are unparalleled.”

They clinked glasses and drank. Richie bumped Eddie lightly, “Cheers to owing me $50.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded toward the counter. “You can grab it from my wallet before you go home.”

“You can just buy me dinner this weekend.” Richie waved his hand.

“So Rich, you know what me getting married also means?” Beverly’s eyes shined brightly at him. He looked between her and Ben, thinking. Then dawning flashed on his face. He put his glass down and stood on the couch.

“Richie, no!” Eddie pleaded desperately. “You are going to fall! Idiot!”

He jumped up and down like a child discovering Christmas came early. “I AM GOING TO BE DUDE OF HONOR!”

They all laughed at his excitement. One of the things the losers club decided in their 20’s, after a particularly ugly fight about who would be who’s best man or ‘dude of honor’ in this case, was that each of them would take turns.

So far, Bill and Stanley had gotten married. To two incredible women, Audra and Patty. Eddie was Bill’s and Bill was Stan’s best man. The rest of the sequence goes: Mike is Richie’s, Richie is Bev’s, Bev is Eddie’s, Stan is Ben’s, and Ben is Mike’s. Mike is fairly confident he won’t get married and neither will Richie, which he says is for the best as he is far too stressed as a person to get married or be a best man.

Eddie recalled that a huge fight he had with Myra was over Beverly being his Best Woman. She shouted at him for hours that there was no reason a woman should be when he had all these guy friends. Explaining the losers club deal to her did nothing but place fuel on the fire. ‘Sometimes I think you love them more than me!’ Looking back, he most certainly did. Eddie was fairly certain he would always love the losers most in this world. Which furthered the cycle of being horribly single. Sometimes he thought he was in a polyamorous asexual relationship with 6 other people. They were too close.

Richie finished up his jumping and landed on the couch half on Eddie. “OW!” Eddie yelled. “That fucking hurt. You aren’t light enough to plop all your weight on me.”

Richie slung an arm over Eddie’s shoulders and kissed the side of his face. “Sorry, Eds.”

Eddie wiped his face that got kissed on Richie’s shoulder, pretending to get the germs off. “Have you told everyone else?”

“We have…” Ben begun slowly. Eddie didn’t like the tone he was using. “Stanley’s already started his best man duties.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’re getting married altogether like Bill and Stan did?” Richie said, seeming to also realize this was odd.

“Because we have to ask a favor of you.” Ben brought his hand up to start biting his nails the way he did when he was about to deliver bad news.

“Favor is too nice, babe. This is not a favor or a request. It is a requirement if you both want to be at this wedding.” Beverly let go of Ben’s hand to place it on her knee. She rubbed her thighs once, gearing up to tell them. Eddie had a couple guesses about what she may want to say but nothing prepared him for what it actually was, “You have to bring a date.”

Eddie leaned back in confusion, realizing Richie’s arm was still around him so it brought them both laying back against the couch. Richie removed his arm and started fidgeting with his fingers. Eddie worried his bottom lip before saying quietly, “Why?”

Beverly looked to Eddie with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eddie, but we don’t want a repeat of Stan and Bill’s weddings.”

Eddie’s face immediately turned red with embarrassment. Three years ago, Stanley got married and that was around when he left his mother’s place for the third time. A year later, Bill got married and he had his break up with Myra. On both occasions, Eddie took a bad combination of too many pills and drinking more than he ever had in his life. Resulting in major blackouts and behavior he cannot remember but knows second hand from everyone what happened.

“Why do we both have to have dates?” Richie said, voice a little strained and weird.

Beverly rounded on him with no sympathy. “Because, Richard, when YOU go to weddings you fuck everyone and break shit. A date will keep you focused on that person and not be a chaotic monster with a death wish.”

Richie laughed, “If I want to be fucked by all your bridesmaids at the same time then I should be allowed to do that!”

Beverly’s voice rose higher, “That’s literally not possible, asshole! And the only bridesmaid is Kay McCall.”

“Damn. Kay’s beautiful but I don’t screw married women.” Richie’s face scrunched up. “Does that make her a bride’s matron?”

“High morals there Richie,” Ben said trying to lighten the mood.

“You know it Ben Handsome.” He winked.

Eddie sat there trying to word what he wanted to say carefully. As Richie continued to dig himself a deeper hole, “We are getting off-topic. I’m saying if I want to have sex with someone and have a little fun or if Eddie wants to get so drunk he mistakes your grandma for a urinal, then we should have that right.”

This brings Eddie back, “Richie!”

“What? Nana Denbrough thought she was at a waterpark. You’re fine.”

He put his hands on his face and folded forward. Richie scratched his back soothingly but didn’t stop trying to defend himself. Beverly eventually got so fed up that she pulled out her phone and played a video from YouTube.

“Exhibit A, Bill and Audra’s wedding.” She said viciously.

Eddie groaned as he raised his head to watch the screen. Bill’s younger brother Georgie had filmed people talking about Bill and Audra. He put the most unfortunate video, starring Eddie and Richie, on the internet for the world to see.

Video Eddie looked miserable and spaced out. Georgie had to say his name three times before Eddie looked up and hiccuped. “Oh hey, Georgie!” Video Eddie said enthusiastically. “Having fun kiddo?”

“I’m 21, Eddie. Not really a kid anymore.” Georgie’s voice said laughing.

“Stay a kid forever,” Eddie begged him.

“Ok, Eddie. What do you want to say to Bill and Audra?”

“Bill...I want you to know that you are the bravest man alive and I would die for you. Audra, you better be good to him.” Video Eddie points at the camera and almost falls forward. Suddenly, video Richie appears, catching him. He giggles bopping video Richie on the nose and keeping his face precariously close to video Richie’s face.

Video Eddie frowns suddenly and looks back at the camera, “But don’t fall too too in love. You might get your heart broken like me. Love is dumb. Women are dumb. They don’t really care about you.”

Video Richie had his hair slicked back and was laughing at video Eddie’s truths, “Eds! This day isn’t about you. It’s about Bill and Audra. We should be telling stories about them!”

“Oh god,” Eddie said as his stomach turned reliving the next part again.

“So Audra, let me tell you about Bill’s first time. He had a girlfriend in high school, blonde and pretty, much like yourself and they were dating for about…”

Video Eddie hiccups, “4 months.” Then smashes his face into video Richie’s neck. “You smell like whiskey.” He winces.

Video Richie laughed, cheeks reddening from drunkenness, “Thank you, Eds. When they decided to fuck for the first time, he got everything all set and she came over that evening. As he was eating her out.”

“Richie, kids could see this.” Video Georgie warned through obvious laughter.

“As Bill was going downtown on her hoo-hoo she got a little too excited and shat the bed.” All three men were shrieking with laughter. Video Eddie wrapped his arms around video Richie, shaking uncontrollably with glee. Despite the horribleness of the situation, Eddie smiled a little. “Now it’s unclear where all the crap ended up but we can guess that…”

Beverly stopped the video glaring at Richie intently. Eddie looked at him and he only smiled. “We won’t even get into the nuclear mess that was Stanley and Patti Uris’s wedding right now. But we want you both to have a date so there is no chance of you completely embarrassing me, Ben, and yourselves.”

Eddie scoffed, “Richie embarrasses himself on every date he goes on. What makes you think one brought to the wedding will be any better?”

“Oh yeah?” Richie gazed at him steadily. Eddie braced himself for the incoming insult. As much as he could dish it, he rarely could take it. Especially against Richie’s quick tongue, “And when was the last time you even fucking went on a date to embarrass yourself?”

“I can get dates!”

“A night alone with your right hand isn’t a date.”

“Shut the fuck up, Trashmouth!”

Suddenly, two armchair pillows smacked the side of Eddie and Richie’s heads. They both rounded on Beverly and Ben but the stare of death Beverly was giving stopped their prepared protests.

“If you assholes want to come to my wedding,”

“Our wedding…” Ben whispered.

She turned her ever reddening face, almost the color of her hair, at her financé, “Not if you correct me, Benjamin! Don’t make me marry myself!” She focused back on Eddie and Richie, pointing a bitten nail at them menacingly. “...you will have dates and BEHAVE at the reception or so help me, I’ll castrate you!”

There was a pregnant pause broken by the one who can never stay quiet long. “What about the ceremony?” Richie responded, “Can I at least ruin that?”

She stared at him, everyone ready for more yelling but instead she broke into a gorgeous smile and laughed. It lightened the moment but Eddie didn’t find he felt any less anxious. He fully contemplated this enormous request from his friends. Finding a good wedding date took time, he only ever had committed relationships. Well, the one with Myra. As much as Richie’s words hurt, he was right. Eddie didn’t go on dates. People didn’t tend to find him datable. “Too short, too high maintenance, too weird” were just a few of the flaws that consumed him. He had no clue how he was expected to get someone to go to this wedding with him.

The four of them started discussing wedding details, Beverly and Richie talking a mile a minute about everything that had to get done. He was especially excited to plan a bachelorette party. With how much money Ben and Bev make, it sounded like they would get their dream wedding easily.

Eddie was thrilled for them but that pang of being single and now having to find a date was eating him alive for the two more hours they stayed. When they finally called it a night, Beverly and Ben hugged them promising to talk tomorrow.

Richie did not follow them out which meant he wanted to drink and talk more, probably spend the night there. Eddie had a guest room that was essentially Richie’s room since he spent the most time there.

“You want ice cream?” Richie shouted from the kitchen where he was most likely opening another bottle of wine.

“With chocolate syrup!” Eddie yelled back.

“Oh, chocolate syrup night means major troubles.” Richie laughed.

“What are we gonna do Rich?” Eddie whined miserably. “Or rather, what the fuck am I going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“About the fucking dates!” Eddie laid sideways on the couch, grabbing the cushion pillow and placing it over his face to scream into.

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Richie said. The couch shifted as he sat down by Eddie’s legs.

“That’s easy for you to say.” Eddie mumbled into the pillow.

Two hands extracted the pillow from his face. Eddie kept his eyes scrunched closed. “I can’t speak pillow.”

Eddie huffed out, “It’s easy for you to not be worried. You are a serial dater.”

“Open your eyes, Eds.” Richie chuckled. Eddie opened them to pout childishly at him.

He had his smirky smile on, which could only mean he had a terrible idea. “I have a great idea to get us out of getting actual dates.”

Eddie stared at him from his laid down position, probably giving Richie an unattractive double chin, “There is no loophole in this agreement, Rich. Beverly was really fucking clear. We have to have dates.”

“And we will.” Richie poured wine into both their glasses. He handed it to Eddie, forcing him to sit up in order to drink it. While Eddie drank normally, Richie downed his quickly then licked his lips.

“Who am I gonna have to take to Ben and Beverly’s wedding?”

Richie watched him carefully, opened his mouth and said, “You’ll take me. I will be your wedding date. And by default, you will be mine” Eddie’s mouth dropped and Richie clinked his empty glass with Eddie’s full one.

______________________

In honor of IT: Chapter 2 coming out soon, I have begun writing this fake dating idea! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, comment here or on archive and let me know your thoughts and feels! The title is thanks to Slashpalooza on tumblr who asked me a million years ago to write something with this title!

Tag List (Starting a new tag list since I don’t know who is still around in the fandom. Let me know if you want to be tagged):

@sarah011 @pan-ini @frankeeenstein @sam-i-am2468 @eds-kas @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @roobarrtrashmouth @hypnoidvoid @imeddie @slashpalooza @reddieforlove

#reddie #fake dating au #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #welcome home losers club #benverly #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #the losers club #fanfiction #it fandom #cursing #gay #i am a loser #Why Can't This Be Love #shannon writes

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 5 years ago

Note

For the word and pairing: caught and Reddie :P

Thank you for the prompt! You can also read it on AO3 if you want

"Fair warning Rich, if we get caught I'm blaming you."

Richie gave a loud snort, pushing open the door to Bill's bedroom. Eddie shushed him, landing a swat on his arm.

"Ow! Bill's not even home, why are you shushing me?" He complained. Eddie simply shrugged, Richie was right, they were alone but he couldn’t help feeling like they should be doing this quietly. "Besides Eds, it's not like he would believe me if I said this was your idea."

"Because it wasn't."

"Whatever, help me strip the bed sheets."

Reluctantly, Eddie helped him. They worked in silence, except for the occasional snicker from Richie while they wrapped the mattress in tin foil. When Richie showed up at the apartment Eddie shared with Bill, carrying supplies and a mischievous grin, Eddie said no before he could even explain what he wanted to do. But Richie could be very persuasive and, for all their friends liked to tease him with how Richie was unable to say no to him, Eddie knew he was the same. All Richie needed to do was give Eddie one of his cute crooked smiles and he would agree to the stupidest shit⎯ like helping him play a prank on Bill.

They had just finished carefully placing a layer of whipped cream and syrup on the mattress when they heard the apartment door open, and Richie and Eddie both froze.

"I thought you said he would be out for another hour," Richie hissed.

"I thought he would! His classes don’t end until six!" Eddie frantically looked around until he found the blanket and threw it over the mess. Then Richie was grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards Bill’s closet.

“Seriously?” Eddie huffed, and Richie glared at him.

“Did you have a better idea?”

But before Eddie could try to come up with something else, they heard footsteps in the hallway. “Fine,” he sighed and let Richie lock them inside the closet.

Which was⎯ tiny. Seriously, incredibly tiny.

And Eddie should know, the closet in his own room was the same size. But then again, Eddie had never tried hiding in it before.

“Damn it,” Richie muttered, trying to make space for his long limbs. One knobby elbow connected with Eddie’s ribs and honestly, between the size of the closet and the amount of shit Bill kept inside, it would be harder not to elbow him but Eddie still glared at him and pinched his side in revenge.

“This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Richie repeated, it was dark but Eddie could still see his eyebrows shot up. He was very, very close. “You told me we had a whole hour before Bill was back!”

“Yeah, but this was your stupid idea!”

“An idea you agreed to help me with.”

“Only because you threatened to prank me⎯”

The door opened and Richie lifted his hand to cover Eddie’s mouth, shutting him up just as Bill walked into his room. They heard the light switch click, Bill taking off his shoes, his bag hitting the floor.

Eddie closed his eyes and prayed that Bill wouldn’t feel the need to change his clothes or they were both done for. When he opened them, Richie was staring hard at him. And⎯ had he moved closer? Eddie could feel him pressed against him, Richie’s hand still over his mouth.

Eddie felt his heart speeding up at the proximity. He tried to avoid being so close to Richie⎯ it made him nervous and it made hiding his feelings that much harder. He wished he could take a step back but he was already pressed against the closet wall and, short of jumping out of the closet and exposing them to Bill, there was nothing he could do to put some distance between them.

Richie had zoned out while staring at him, Eddie gave him a little nudge and he moved his hand away slowly. Eddie had adjusted enough to the dark of the closet to see the way Richie licked his lips while staring directly at Eddie’s mouth. There was a small crease between his eyebrows, like he was trying to solve a really hard problem. And Eddie didn’t think he was trying to come up with a solution for the fact that they were trapped in a closet.

Slowly, like he was trying not to spook Eddie, Richie lifted his hand again. This time he cupped Eddie’s cheek while pressing even closer, flush against him. Eddie’s mouth went suddenly dry, heart hammering in his chest.

Then Richie was mouthing Okay? at him and there was no way to misread the situation or the expression on his face. He gave a short nod, unable to do anything else while he watched Richie lean in.

That was when Bill screamed.

They jumped apart, or as much as they could in the small space. Eddie worried that they weren’t quiet enough, but with how loud Bill was cursing, he realized it didn’t matter.

“Fuck Richie and his stupid fucking pranks. I’m going to kill him.”

Eddie bit his lip, trying to keep his laughter in. Maybe he didn’t want to help Richie at first, but he had to admit that Bill falling for their prank was absolutely hilarious. Richie had a hand clamped over his mouth, clearly thinking the same. He shifted and Eddie saw him pull out his phone and show it to him. The screen was lighting up with an incoming call from Bill. Since he couldn’t answer without betraying their location, the call went to voicemail.

“Tozier, you better watch your back. I’m getting back at you for this shit.” Bill hissed into the phone and Eddie felt another giggle rise in his throat and he had to bite his lip harder to keep it in.

He heard the sound of running feet and then the door slammed shut. Richie and Eddie exchanged a look but it wasn’t until they heard the apartment door open and close that they both burst into laughter.

Eddie leaned back against the wall, giggling. Richie doubled over, shaking with laughter. Eddie loved it when he laughed like that, with his whole body and with tears welling up in his pretty blue eyes. He dropped his head on Eddie’s shoulder, one of his hands falling to his hip. Eddie was suddenly reminded of how close they were and what they were about to do before Bill fell victim to their prank.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Richie whispered against his neck, Eddie suppressed a shiver. He tried not to pay attention to Richie’s breath against his skin and instead, focused on trying to figure out if Bill really left the apartment. It was silent and Eddie nodded, grabbing for the doorknob.

The room was empty. The bed was stripped, revealing the mess underneath and the blanket was lying on the floor, fat dollops of whipped cream and syrup next to it. Eddie wrinkled his nose, feeling bad for Bill⎯ that would be a nightmare to clean up.

Richie snickered, staring at the mess. “Bill is going to kill us.”

Eddie whirled on him. “Excuse me? Bill’s going to kill you. I wasn’t here, I didn’t help. This,” He gestured wildly between them. “Never happened.”

Richie bit the inside of his cheek, eyes darting towards the closet. “Um, what do you mean⎯ this? Like you helping me with the prank or⎯”

“What?”

“You know, the thing that almost happened in the closet?” Richie said, nervously scratching the back of his neck. Eddie’s stomach fluttered when he remembered that the thing that almost happened was Richie kissing him. “Because if you want to pretend that it didn’t happen that’s cool. I’m cool with that. Cool, cool, cool. Cool as a cucumber.”

Eddie chuckled softly at Richie’s nervous rambling. He copied Richie’s move from before, reaching up to cup his cheek and shutting him up. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen⎯ well, almost happened.”

“Oh. That’s⎯”

“Cool?” Eddie cut in with a smirk.

“Very cool.” Richie agreed, and it was like déjà vu when he leaned down. Except this time, Bill wasn’t there to interrupt them.

The kiss was soft, slow, perfect.

Eddie sighed happily against Richie’s lips, tangling his fingers in his curls. Richie’s hands settled on Eddie’s waist and he used his grip to crowd Eddie against the desk⎯ Bill’s desk. It reminded Eddie of where they were. And that they should probably get out of there. They barely escaped before and Eddie doubted they would have the same luck a second time.

“We should go to my room.” He said and Richie hummed in agreement but instead of stopping, he trailed his mouth down Eddie’s jaw to his neck. “Seriously Rich, when Bill doesn’t find you in your apartment he will probably come back, I don’t think we can get away again.”

“I don’t care.”

But Eddie did care⎯ the last thing he wanted was to end up involved in a prank war with his roommate. He would never know peace if he did. He gave Richie a meaningful look, “My room has a bed without syrup and whipped cream in it.” He told him and Richie pulled back, his eyes sparkling with interest. Eddie smirked, “And a really cramped closet, if tight enclosed spaces are more your thing.”

Richie opened his mouth to say something but seemed to change his mind. Eddie narrowed his eyes at him, “What?”

“I’m just trying to figure out if I should wait until after I get laid to make a joke about your tight, enclosed spaces.” Eddie groaned, which only made Richie grin harder. He grabbed his hand and started walking him towards the door. “Yeah, I definitely think I should get laid first. Just to be on the safe side.”

And, really, it was very hard for Eddie to argue with that. He was very aware of how incredibly persuasive Richie could be.

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 @reddie-for-anything @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie @jesuschristsupruvestar @mirandonsky @reddie4diaster @alargedepresso @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @reddieslashgeneralhorror @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @lover-mouth @atownofeggs @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @a-gay-treee @twoidiotsinl0ve @fcngirltrxsh @spirited-marvel @typewrxter @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen @call-me-bread @britcorn @wickedlyweasley @derpyanimatesstuff @braverthanyathink @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart (if you want to be added, let me know!).

#reddie #Eddie lets Richie convince him to play a prank on Bill #they're two halves of the same idiot #monse writes #anon ask

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pinkpsychic · 4 years ago

Text

Jingle Bells, Reptiles Smell

little birthday fic written by me to @kaymcgivemeacall, my favorite person in the world to talk to about frogs and all that jazz. And just everything. I love you always! And I can’t wait to meet you and we can hold a frog together one day💚 (or gecko wink wink). Happy birthday Sam!

——————————————————————————

Round cheeks of a troublesome twelve year old blew against the glass of the lit up tank, eyes scanning the colorful fish as he made farting noises. They swam around oblivious, mostly scurrying further away when the boy’s clammy hands tapped on the tank too hard. The blue haired cashier in the background simply rolled her eyes as if he were a simple fly buzzing around the store. She looked like she wasn’t getting paid enough for the disturbance that was the Tozier boy.

“Richie that’s disgusting! Do you know how many people have been touching that fucking glass and now you’re putting your mouth all over it? And what are you trying to do - entertain them? They’re fish!” The probably sweet (but fed up with her job and capitalism) cashier lady put an earbud in from her ipod as the screechy voice of Eddie appeared. Messy black curls bounced lightly on his head as Richie turned around with a grin, addressing the brunette behind him.

“I put my mouth all over your mom.”

“Oh real fucking funny. I’ve never heard that one before -”

The other losers were wandering the pet store with curiosity, tuning out the two bickering boys as always. Bill, Ben and Beverly were playing with a small kitten’s paws as she swatted at them playfully. Mike was on a mission to look at prices of dog food (and scanning over all the ingredients because dogs deserved the best). Stan was eyeing a greenish yellow bird in its cage once he was done rolling his eyes at Richie and Eddie’s antics. (He swore they made a scene in any damn place they went). The bird cocked its head with interest at him, and it caused his mouth to curl up with a softness. “Aren’t you a pretty thing, huh?” It blinked at him and he simply took that as a, thank you. Oh how he loved birds.

The plan of the day was that - Maggie and Wentworth Tozier would take all of the kids to the pet store to browse (and mainly because their son Richie begged that he wanted a pet for Christmas and would die of loneliness if he didn’t get one), and later on they would all be having a sleepover at the Tozier household. It took a while to convince Sonia Kaspbrak that, no Eddie wouldn’t contract some sort of disease from any of the animals. Eventually she let her son go and Maggie and Went drove them all together to the store.

“You’re not getting a spider Richard! Lord knows what would happen if that thing got loose in my house-” Maggie in the car previously. “

“But mom I would be the coolest bitch in school!” Richie.

“DON’T SAY THAT WORD.” Maggie.

They all made it to the store in one piece, hence the screaming by the fish tanks and everything.

Richie grabbed the short boy’s hand once he stopped hissing at him, attention no longer on the fish but rather to adventure further down the isles. All kinds of things presented themselves. Guinea pigs, ferrets, reptiles of sorts. After some mumbling from Eddie and Richie scanning all the pets excitedly, the black haired Tozier boy blinked before zooming his eyesight in on a certain little guy. Tucked away along the back of the store was its cage, a warm light overhead its home and a water bowl next to him. He had pretty spots and a very extravagant tail (Richie thought). Its tongue was peeking out as it stared directly at the boy.

He was in love.

“Why don’t you pick a cat or something? That way it can run away from you if you’re acting stupid around the house-” Eddie snickered, oblivious to the lack of response until Richie physically pushed his eyesight towards the cage. The brunette cursed about the sweaty hand on his skin before his eyes gaze caught up, and he shut up. They both blinked at the creature.

It was a leopard gecko.

The two stared a bit in awe, Richie especially enamored by the gecko’s appearance and how cool he looked. Radiant. Eddie thought about how - the creature was just as weird and interesting as, well, Richie. It was meant to be perhaps.

“Well,” Eddie started with a dumb grin as he gazed at those beady eyes. “He’s a lot more quiet than your trashmouth. I think that balances things out.” Richie’s face was beaming. It seemed he had found his new friend to take home. Leopard gecko, Eddie approved.

After a lot of convincing and promises that, “I’ll clean his cage mom! I swear I will! And I’ll take care of him good! How can you say no to that tongue?”, Maggie and Went were swiping their card at the register as the rest prepared to take Richie’s new buddy home. All of the losers bounced around him excitedly. In the car ride home they all shouted out possible names (one being Def Leppard which wasn’t approved), back and forth until the ultimate winner was -

Spike. Named by Richie, inspired from The Land Before Time.

He came to adore Spike, Eddie right behind him. One night a few weeks later, the brunette remembers Richie calling the little gecko their “son,” to which he blushed a cute shade of pink. Beverly Marsh would create little hats for Spike, Stan would let him crawl up his chest quietly as he read books, and the others would make it a tradition to poke their tongue out at him every time they came.

And when Richie and Eddie would curl up and rest against each other reading superhero comics, eyes drooping every so often - Spike would lay between them on the blanket, oblivious to the world. The snow would rage on outside with harsh winds as they all cuddled up together.

And it was the perfect family. 🦎

End

——————————————————————————

#reddie #it stephen king #richie tozier #my writing #for sam!!#happy birthday ily #richie tozier likes geckos yea #he adopts five later

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richietoaster · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Just That Simple

reddie

words: 1,245

playlist

READ ON A03

For Sadie @beproudtozier

if you don’t mind not having to read it formatted, you can read it below:

Pretty brown eyes that glow the perfect shade of caramel in the sun. That’s the first thing Eddie sees when he opens his own, just beauty staring right back down at him. It takes him a moment to catch his breath, slowly waking up from his afternoon nap in the sun.

“Well good morning to you too,” Richie says, sitting next to him on the glider in his backyard. “Have a nice nap?”

The thing is, Eddie’s always been closest to Richie, out of all of their friends. Not in a bad way, just a different way. Everyone knows they’ve always been different. Since day one it’s been RichieandEddie. Inseparable.

“No,” Eddie mutters and turns his head, to block the glare. “I had a dream about graduation again.”

Richie moves Eddie’s legs to place them over his lap. “Why do you stress about it?”

“It’s not that I’m stressed. It’s just I..” I don’t wanna ever be without you. “I’m afraid of not having all of you around when we all go to college. It won’t be the same.”

“Come on, Eds.” Richie rubs his knee. “Losers stick together. It’s not like we’re gonna forget about each other.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie flings an arm over his face. “Just all my life I’ve had you guys and I’m not ready for that change. And.. and you know how my mom was when I was younger. I wasn’t even allowed to go out more than twice a week until I was sixteen!”

“But you saw me- still see me almost everyday. She’s never found out that I’m Spiderman.”

“You’re not Spiderman.”

“Yes huh!” Richie argues, laughing. “How do you think I climb up to your window, huh? With my spidey powers.” He imitates Spiderman’s hand movement and pretends to throw a web.

“You’re a child,” Eddie laughs and knocks his knee against Richie’s chest, gently.

“You love me,” Richie tells him.

Eddie goes quiet, but their silence isn’t awkward. In his head all he can think about is everyone moving away and never seeing each other again. All he can think about is Richie. Richie’s dumb jokes, his smile, the way he knows how to comfort his friends, specifically himself. Thinks about his dumb face and how he makes him more confident in himself, the way he helped Eddie come out when he was ready. He remembers in third grade when he accidentally broke a pair of scissors and Richie took the blame for him, when he didn’t need to do that.

All he can think about is Richie, whom Eddie knows that without him, he’ll never feel the same. He’s never had to imagine life without him and he doesn’t want to. He thinks that this is how it’s supposed to feel, how love feels.

And what if he never tells Richie about his feelings? What if Richie feels the same way and Eddie will never know?

Eddie suddenly feels very nauseated and sits up, his chest nearly colliding with Richie’s arm. “I’m not stressed about the future, Richie.” He admits.

“What’s buggin�� ya? You can talk to me, you know.”

“I’m.. I’m maybe afraid of it, but not stressed..” Eddie sighs. “We’re graduating, Rich. In just a little over a month, we’re not going to be high schoolers anymore. We’re gonna be thrown blindly into the world and I need you all by my side. I know we have one more summer before we all start college in the fall but I really can’t help thinking about one thing.”

“What is it?”

Eddie takes a breath. “I walked into high school, nearly 4 years ago, afraid of myself. It wasn’t because I couldn’t accept myself, but who I couldn’t accept that I had the hugest crush on. Then in sophomore year I thought it got better, because he got a girlfriend, and I thought that maybe this was my chance to finally get over him, you know?”

Richie stutters, “Uh, W-What happened?”

“They broke up within like two months. The girlfriend came up to me and said they broke up because of me. She gave him an ultimatum and he chose me.” He hears Richie’s breath catch. This is it, he’s really telling him how he feels..

“Junior year came and went, but my feelings didn’t go anywhere. I figured that I could just shelter them, that I could just hold them in and never tell him and I never did. Although, we got drunk one night and I told him that I loved him but I don’t think he remembers, and if he does, he either never said anything, or just rolled it out as something stupid I said when we weren’t sober…” Eddie looks over at Richie, who’s staring at him wide-eyed. “Do you think he remembers?”

“He does..” Richie plays with the ripped pattern on his jeans, knuckles touching Eddie’s leg occasionally. “What about senior year?”

“What about it?”

“What happened with the guy?”

“Well..” No turning back now. “I’m desperately afraid of losing him. I’m afraid of nothing ever being the same once we leave Derry. I’m afraid he’ll forget about me. But, most importantly, I’m afraid of never feeling anything in my life ever again, the way I feel about you.”

Richie’s head turns to him, slowly, and he visibly swallows, “Eds, I- There’s nobody in this world that I give a damn about, when it comes to you, you know that, right? God, you gotta fucking know.. I- I wrote you a fucking love letter for your birthday, how could you not think that I..?”

“Maybe I’m just stupid.”

“Or oblivious. We’re both oblivious, clearly.”

“I thought you were mocking me, if I’m honest. I thought you caught on to how I feel and you were just pulling another joke.” Eddie admits.

“Even if I didn’t feel the same way, I’m not fucking cruel.” Richie shakes his head, “I would never do that to you.”

“What are you, then? Because I’m so fucking in love with you, sometimes I feel like my mind’s gonna explode. You make me feel like I’m gonna burst, like every second of every day.”

“You make me feel free.”

“Free?”

“Yeah.” Richie shrugs. “Your feelings have more complexity to it and mine are just.. Simple. And that’s why we work best.”

“It’s just that simple..” Eddie breathes,

“Yeah,” Richie agrees.

They’re both still, and there’s a breeze, and the way the wind makes the swing move, he can see Richie’s eyes gleam again, he can see the way they flicker down to his mouth. Eddie makes the quick decision to reach up to take Richie’s cheek in hand, leaning up to slot their lips together. Richie parts them the second they touch, letting years and years of yearning and pining take control, grasping Eddie’s knee tightly.

Yet, their kiss doesn’t last too long, as Mrs. Tozier comes outside.

“Hey boys, I made lunch- oh.”

The two pull apart and Eddie removes his legs from Richie’s lap.

“Hi, Maggie.” Eddie wipes his mouth not-so-discreetly.

“I just wanted to tell you both that I made lunch,” Maggie tells them, “Just come in whenever you’re ready.. Okay?”

“Okay,” the two say in unison.

The second she’s back inside they begin to laugh uncontrollably, but stop when Richie gives him a look that definitely says ‘i’m totally gonna kiss you again’, so Eddie shuts up and lets himself just be.. free. Because, yeah, it is that simple.

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

TAG LIST: (im gonna be starting a new one soon bc this is so old)

Perma taglist- ASK TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED

@eds-trashmouth @are-you-reddie-for-it @reddietofall @not-reddie @spilling-tea @summerxle @richiefuckfacetozier @tozier-boy @eds-kas @kotoamor @sad-synth @edsbrak @burymestanding @whos-bitch-is-this @reddie-to-go @toziuh @missingstanleyuris @60swolfhard @reddiesetrichie @decaffeinatedpostmoon @casuallysarcasticblonde @ohheydatsme @its-stranger-than-you-think @aesteddie @rad-reddie @llama-in-a-bubble @waypunsarelife @he-wasnt-reddie @eddieo-spaghettio @blushingreddie @onlyreddie @belbys @itchytoaster @totaltozier @coffeekaspbrak @roobarrtrashmouth @strange-reddie-loser @girasol-eddie @20gayteeneds @hiyo-silver @lo-v-ers@stellarlosersclub @coffeekaspbrak @loveoflosers @reddies-spaghetti @tinyarmedtrex @thorn-harvester-ven @ransonejames wizzo-the-fucking-wizard @thundercatseddie

#reddie #it 2017 #it 2019 #my writing #sara writes

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softest-cinnamon-roll · 5 years ago

Note

So I’m at my cousins wedding reception rn and the two grooms men I’ve known my entire life right? They keep touching each other and I asked them how long they’ve been together (I haven’t seen them in years) and they go “oh we’re not...” and all I can think about reddie meeting for the first time as groomsmen and then immediately hitting it off and falling for each other. Amy pls.... I’m begging you to write something

When Stan had asked him to be his best man at his wedding, Richie couldn’t say yes fast enough. He had grown up with Stan, he was his best friend through and through, so there was no way he wasn’t going to say no to being the best man at his damn wedding.

MIke was a great guy and Stan deserved him more than anyone. He was funny, smart, rather gorgeous and was incredibly soft hearted and friendly. When he had asked Stan to marry him, Richie was the first person Stan had told, calling him excited down the phone as he ran over all the ideas he had for the ceremony.

In the end, they settled for a simple wedding on Mike’s family farm in Derry, Maine. Richie had taken a long weekend off work and drove up to the state, checking in to the Derry Town House that was completely booked out for the event. Richie had to snort a little, as he knew all about Derry, and it was a small minded town. The people must be having a field day knowing two men were getting married here.

Once Richie had dumped all of his bags into the room and jumped into a quick shower, he changed into something much more comfortable and headed down to the main reception, ready to meet up with Stan and Mike for pre-wedding instructions. What he got instead was the sight of the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.

The man was a few feet shorter than him, with soft blond curls and an annoyed expression on his face as he tapped his foot and looked over the reception desk. That was when Richie shot out of his trance and realised what he was waiting for…assistance.

“Uh, good luck with that. Whoever works here seems to be pretty absent,” Richie spoke up and the man turned his whole body to his direction, making Richie groan internally at how gorgeous he was from the front too. “You kind of have to…check yourself in.”

Raising his eyebrows, the man looked back behind the desk and let out an audible sigh, “You mean I just need to grab a set of keys and hope for the best?” He asked and Richie nodded his head. “This is so unsafe…but I’ve been waiting here for over thirty minutes now and I really don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”

Richie watched at the hot guy moved around behind the desk and looked for a set of keys that would allow him access to a room for one. He grinned and picked a pair, holding them up in triumph as he stepped back out and made his way over to Richie. “See, all sorted now.” He paused. “Are you here for the wedding?”

“Yeah uh, Mike is a close family friend so I’ve forced myself to come back to this hell hole because it was what he wanted.” The guys shrugged and that was when Richie realised who he was. This was Mike’s best friend, and best man, Eddie Kaspbrak.

Damn, Eddie Kaspbrak was hot as fuck and Richie was internally cursing Mike for not introducing them sooner. He grinned. “Eddie Kaspbrak, right? If you’re from Derry why didn’t you know about the shitty service here?”

Eddie blinked, “Because the last time I was in this town, I was living with my mother. I’ve never stepped into this place in my life.” He looked at Richie up and down and Richie, once again, had to hold back a groan. “Wait…are you Richie? Stan’s best man?”

Richie broke into a wide grin and he nodded his head, holding out his hand, “The one and only. Richie Tozier, at your service.” His smile widened even more as Eddie took his hand and he subconsciously raised his hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Richie. I’ve heard…a lot about you.” Eddie laughed looking away a little as he removed his hand from Richie’s grasp. “Stan might have filled me in on your…eccentricness?”

This time, Richie groaned out loud and ran a hand through his hair, “Of course he would. He was probably trying to save you from my shit, as I really am full of it. I also have ADHD, so sometimes I struggle grasping when people want me to shut up. So they just say ‘beep beep, Richie’. So if I bug you, that’s what you say.” A nervous laugh left Richie’s lips at that point and he wondered why he was suddenly so…shy. Normally if Richie was attracted to someone he’d use the Tozier charm until they agreed to come back to bed with him. Yet with Eddie…after only knowing him for about ten minutes…Richie knew he was different.

“Thanks but…I don’t think I’ll have to use it on you.” Eddie winked and Richie’s eyes widened. “Are you meeting Mike and Stan for lunch? I have to just shower really quick, would you mind waiting for me and we can go together?” He asked and Richie nodded his head.

In a flash, Eddie was off up the stairs and Richie was left alone in the reception, wondering what the hell just happened. He moved into the lounge area and took a seat, flicking through his twitter on his phone, updating his status. Eddie was gone for about half an hour, and in that time he had to tell three more guests to just help themselves to room keys or they’d be there all night. Eventually, Eddie appeared back in the doorway, in a new set of clothes, blond hair damp on his head. Fuck.

“Hey, you’re back,” Richie grinned, standing up and pocketing his phone. “Stan just messaged me the diner details and it’s within walking distance so we don’t have to call a cab.” Eddie seemed to agree with Richie and they left the town house, walking down the street to where they’d meet up with Mike and Stan. “So, you grew up here?”

Eddie looked over at Richie as they walked and nodded his head, “Yeah, born here and remained until I was…nineteen and I finally managed to escape. It’s been eight years and this place still puts me on edge. I’m surprised that my mother isn’t out patrolling the streets looking for me as I’m sure she knows I’m here.” He admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Richie whispered, not really wanting to pry into Eddie’s personal life too much. If Eddie wanted to tell him, then he would. “If we see your mom, just let me know and I’ll talk that much she’ll run away.”

Next to him, Eddie paused and bit his lip, looking up at Richie. “Actually…I wanted to ask you something.” Richie tilted his head, letting Eddie know that he was listening. “We both don’t have dates…right?” A nod. “So uh, maybe if we see my mom or anyone else who might know me would you…pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Even though Richie knew it was a stupid idea and that he was probably going to get really hurt, he felt himself nodding his head. “Yes, of course Eddie. It would be my pleasure.”

* * * * *

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#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #writing tag

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