#the wild just moved here so unsure how the crowd will be. holy shit my ears are still ringing

[nolanhattrick]

irl hockey so much cooler than tv hockey. do not know how i'm going to survive without seeing my blorbos in person knowing that they also that and that i can also go and see them do it. illegal. i need to move to toronto or vancouver immediately. fuck. what the fuck. fuck.

[bokutoskitten]

go greek!

18+

synopsis- after a lot of convincing eren managed to get you to come to his frat party, where will the night take you?

cw- eren jaeger x f!reader, college au, praise kink, inexperienced reader (not a virgin), alcohol (y/n nor eren get drunk), sub reader, nipple play (f receiving), sex, all characters are 18+

these are just stereotypes about certain sorority’s/frats at a college in my state! Each college is different!

you didn’t really understand how you got put in this situation. Loud cheering, the smell of cheap beer and the sight of people making out in almost every corner of the crowded house.

You belonged to a sorority on your campus, definitely not a top tier�� but you were in a sorority! Everyone knew your house as sweet and cute, but were innocent, rarely left the house.

You focused mainly on your classes like your sisters, you didn’t pay attention to any of the frats. That was until you met him. Eren Jaeger. It was a simple school girl crush on a guy in your poli sci class. You would of never imagined that a guy like him would ever pay attention to you.

When Eren found out that you were in Greek life he asked “why haven’t I seen you at any parties?” He quickly understooon once you said your sororities name, chi o’s. Everyone know chi omegas dont party much to keep their “good girl” status.

Eren asked you if you wanted to come to a party on Friday that his frat was hosting, pi kappa alpha (pike), you told him that you needed to study. Your sisters always told you to never hang out with a pike, they were just rich fuckboys who would use you and throw you out the next day.

But eren couldn’t be like that- could he?

Eren had grown bored of fucking tri delta’s and kappa kappa gamma girls, all they cared about was status. But not you. No, you were different. Eren knew the reputation he held, a class A douche bag. He just hoped that you hadn’t of heard about his reputation, in fear that it would scare you away. He hated how he was In the past, he wanted to change for the better and leave his fuck boy status in the past.

That’s how you ended up here. At the pike’s frat house, alone, no eren to be seen. As you tried looking around the house you felt an arm reach around your shoulder. Your plan was to stay at home and watch a movie like you did most weekends, but something overcame you and you decided to do something out of your comfort zone.

“Why are you all alone little lady?” Asked a clearly drunk man, “I- I’m sorry, have you seen eren? I was supposed to meet him here” you nervously responded looking up at the male.

“Y/n!” You heard from across the room. It was eren, even from at a distance you could tell he was upset. There was some bickering between eren and the boy who was talking to you, jean. But eventually he grumbled some words under his breath and left.

“I’m really sorry about that. He didn’t scare you too much did he?” Asked eren guiding you to an empty sofa. “I’m okay! Thanks for inviting me, your brothers seem nice…?” Your words came out more unsure than you were planning.

Chuckling he said “yeah sorry about them… so um, can I get you a drink?” Nodding your head you replied “s-sure!” Eren came back with two red solo cups, one for you and one for him. You smelled the liquid within the cup for a second before bring it to your lips. It tasted like strawberry lemonade with a bitter vodka aftertaste.

Your face scrunched your at the bitter taste. “Don’t force yourself to drink that if you don’t like it” chucked eren as he watched you try to drink the vodka concoction. “It’s okay! It’s just a little stronger than what I’m use to!” You replied taking another sip. By now that the alcohol was flowing through your system, the taste didn’t bother you as much.

You continued to chat with eren about your major; poli sci. Which was the same as erens, you talked about favorite tv shows and your favorite places to get food near campus. You where really surprised at how much you were enjoying yourself. Frat parties had always seemed really scary, but this was the exact opposite. You were actually having fun for once, not stressed about grades and trying to keep your high gpa.

Your conversation was suddenly interrupted as girl walked up to eren. “Hey eren” she slurred, “you look really nice tonight… wanna go back to my place and have more fun” she asked. Your heart sunk. She was extremely pretty, and you recognized her. She was the president of a sorority on campus. The top sorority on campus.

Before eren could open his mouth you said “s-sorry umm excuse me” as you quickly got up from the sofa tears started to prick the corner of your eyes. Somehow you found a room that was empty, you sat down on the bed as you tried to control yourself from crying.

I knew it was a bad idea to come here… eren could never see me as more than a girl he chatted with in class…

The door surprisingly swung open causing you to become startled. “I’m sorry y/n- I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just worried, you ran off so suddenly” eren spoke as he made his way to the bed. “Shouldn’t you be with that girl right now…” you mumbled brushing some stray tears from off your cheek.

“Why would I be with her? Y/n- I want to be here with you. That’s why I’ve been talking with you this whole night, your fun to be around”

“Really…?”

“Yes really, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you feel sad”

“It’s okay… maybe we should go back downstairs, I don’t want to be in a random persons room.”

“Nah don’t worry about it this is my room”

“O- oh okay”

Eren leaned in a bit closer, “you know your really pretty, right” you felt heat rush to your face as you quickly said “oh- umm thank you!” You felt his hand cup your face as he said “is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Yes please”

When his lips finally connected with yours the sweet taste of the strawberry lemonade filled your senses. He nibbled a bit on your lower lip letting you know to open your mouth a bit more letting his tongue slip in.

A little moan escaped your mouth as erens hand made its way to waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You make the cutest sounds” he hummed as he pulled away from your mouth.

“At any moment you want to stop, just let me know, okay” he spoke in a gentle but stern tone. “O-okay” you replied. “So are you like a… virgin?” Eren asked, “what! n-no, I’ve only done it once… it’s been a while” you said shifting your face away from his as embarrassment spread through your body like a wild fire.

“Look at me cutie, that’s totally okay. Is it okay if I take this off?” He asked as his fingers lingered on your skirt. “Yes please” you breathily murmured. Now that your skirt was off you were left in your lace panties and a tank top.

Eren began lightly sucking on your neck as he made his way closer to your chest, looking at you he asked for permission to remove your tank top and bra as was well which you quickly gave him a nod of approval. His mouth made its way to your breasts as he began sucking and licking your nipples, you could already tell that by the time he reached your panties you would be drenched.

“Fuck- your going to look so pretty all marked up” he spoke as his tongue sucked on your nipple while he rolled the other one with his thumb. “Pleaseee eren” you breathily moaned as the pulsing feeling in your pussy was growing stronger.

“Please what?” He teased, “eren!” You whined giving him a pouty face.

“Come on y/n, tell me”

“Eren please touch me!”

In an instant eren swiftly removed your underwear, he threw it to some random corner of his room. Before you could complain about him throwing them so far away you were pleasantly surprised when he thrusted two of his fingers into you.

You quickly smacked your hand over your mouth to conceal your moan. “I want to hear you” he said sternly, you quickly removed your hand from your mouth not wanting to disappoint eren.

“Much better”

Even though he was just fucking you with his fingers it felt so good. “Ah!” You moaned as you felt eren move his another finger to your little bundle of nerves. “You like that?” He questioned, although he knew the obvious answer.

“Yes! Feels ‘s- so good!” You managed to speak out. “I can feel you tightening around me, are you gonna cum?” Questioned eren. “Y..yes!” You moaned loudly as your body finally gave in to all of the pleasure as you hit your release.

Eren pulled his fingers away from you, your essence dripping down his hand. “Look you made a mess” he spoke as he brought his hand to his mouth. “Mmhm you taste sweet” he said after licking his fingers clean.

“Erenn that’s embarrassing” you whined throwing your arm up to cover your face. “Don’t do that” said a stern voice as a hand grabbed your wrist and brought it down to the side of your body.

“Don’t hide from me, I want to see your face” said eren, by now you could see his cock was hard, the outline very prominent in his pants. “Please eren” you panted as you squeezed your legs together in anticipation. “You want my cock?” Chuckled eren knowing that you desperately wanted him.

“Yes eren! Please”

“Good girl”

He slipped off his sweatpants and shirt, you could see how big his cock was just from the imprint in his boxers. Your mouth was basically drooling from staring at erens flawless washboard abs.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest when you felt eren rub is flushed tip against your soaking entrance. “Erennn just put in it” you whined giving eren a pouty face. “You are just so needy” he chuckled as he teased you a bit more. You gasped when you suddenly felt eren thrust himself into you, barley giving you any time to adjust to the feeling.

“Holy shit- your so tight” he swore as he picked up his pace. “Aah! Erennn” you moaned as his hips slammed against yours. You couldn’t believe the situation you were in, you tried to remember how it even escalated to this but your body was so overwhelmed with pleasure you were having a hard time remembering.

“H-harder!” You cried tightening yourself against eren. “Fuck” a curse slipped out of eren’s mouth as you did that. “Feels ‘s- so good” you said as ecstasy flowed through your body.

“Your being such a good girl for me, taking me so well fuck- such a good job” he praised as he fucked you at a ruthless pace.

As eren looked down at you tits bouncing up and down, he felt so much different than he did with other girls. He didn’t want to fuck you then throw you out, he wanted to cuddle with you and litter you with kisses. Was he crazy…? Or was he just catching feelings…?

“Keep going eren! I-I’m so close!” You moaned as one of eren hands made its was to your clit gently massaging it. “Your doing so fucking good for me, I know you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me” he said as he felt you squeeze him even tighter than before. You felt yourself finally hit your peak. Pure bliss washed over your body as you rode out your orgasm with a high pitch moan.

“Fuck” groaned eren as he quickly pulled out squirting his cum onto your stomach. After taking a couple deep breaths he got up, leaving you alone. You knew deep down all he wanted was sex, you decided that in a minute you would get up to clean yourself off then leave the party.

“Eren..?” You said in shock seeing him come out of the attached bathroom with a small damp towel. “Yes y/n?” He questioned as he made his way over to you then began cleaning you off.

“Oh- nothing!” You responded quickly smiling at the boy in front of you. “You didn’t think I was gonna leave you here, did you?” He questioned with a smile.

“What! No-” you replied with a huff, before you could finish eren cut you off with his laugh.

“I would never leave you here alone, I hope you know that”

“Yeah, I do now….”

“Good”

Eren laid down in bed next to you grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

“Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight eren”

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Fifteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to torture and prolonged, vivid depictions of assault. Stay safe!]

"Call tags?" The scribe droned, not even looking up from the terminal.

  Danse only hesitated for a second. "D, N, dash, four zero seven P." 

  The scribe punched in the letters and numbers, and Danse saw the young man visibly jerk in surprise. Rheumy brown eyes stared up at the towering suit of X-01 armor and the scribe's voice squeaked when he hissed, " Danse? "

  The armored man nodded.

  "Are you insane?! Danse--er, Paladin Danse, the elder has been on the warpath ever since you went...sir, he says you're a synth, a traitor to the Brotherhood. You're supposed to be dead! I knew there was something fishy about those reports!" The scribe whispered shakily. He looked incredibly nervous. "Most of us think he's off his rocker, but you try finding a soldier with the balls to tell him that point-blank!"

  "It's comforting that you all have such faith in me." Danse said, meaning every word. "I'm afraid the announcement of my death was a bit...premature."

  The scribe blinked. "Sir, after everything that...the amount of us that would stand by you through anything is the vast majority, I promise. Elder Maxson has locked up Paladin Brandis and-"

  "Tell me he hasn't harmed Brandis." Danse cut him off, relieved when the scribe shook his head hastily. 

  "I think even the elder knows better than to assault one of the most beloved officers in our chapter." The scribe exhaled a long breath, then looked back up at Danse. "Sir, you should know that...well, it may be a bit disappointing to hear, but even if you are a synth, we're still with you, sir." The scribe gave him a salute. 

  Danse's eyes pricked with tears. He couldn't believe that he had the power to inspire such unwavering loyalty. "At ease, soldier. With any luck, this will be a diplomatic engagement. I'll take Knight Vega and be on my way."

  "I...I am unsure if it will be so simple." The scribe admitted. "Ex-Knight Vega has also been confined to the brig since you went AWOL."

  " Ex -knight?"

  "Maxson stripped of her rank, sir. Accused her of conspiring against the Brotherhood. On her end, she maintains her innocence." The scribe shrugged. "I don't understand why he doesn't just exile her or have her stand trial, but he's been dragging his feet the whole-"

  " Bait ." Danse realized. "He's been waiting for me to come back for her, of course . She's our only way into the Institute. Either that or he just wants the satisfaction of killing me himself." He moved past the checkpoint without another word, leaving the scribe to sputter. Danse hoped he wasn't being too self-absorbed when he surmised that the report of his 'death' was no doubt being utilized as a thumbscrew on Elizabeth. Maxson obviously needed a confession; hell, he might even suspect Vega of being the one that tipped Danse off in the first place. 

  No one paid him much mind as he strode across the compound. Though he did intercept a few curious glances, Danse chalked them up to the distinctive armor he was wearing instead of outright suspicion. 

  "Where is the elder?" He gruffed at a crowd of aspirants, counting on the staticky speakers of his helmet to disguise his voice. One of them grimaced.

  "In a mood." She joked, the group of aspirants nodding and laughing amongst themselves. "But if you mean location, he's been hanging around the build site a lot. Watching the progress on Big Lib, you know."

  Danse inclined his head and turned on his heel, making a beeline for the previously-mentioned location while he guiltily recalled the time that he had threatened Vega with an upbraiding for her own quips about Maxson. As he thundered back across the courtyard, he could hear the muttering start up. People were beginning to notice him. His window of opportunity was shrinking; he needed to find Maxson fast . Danse picked up his pace, half-jogging.

  Catching sight of Maxson at the very top of Prime's gantry made Danse feel minute, an insignificant David at the feet of a giant. He swallowed hard, shaking off the unsettling sensation and cueing up his helmet's speakers.

  At the whine of feedback, Ingram glanced up from her console beneath the shelter across the dusty tarmac. "Hey!" She said sharply. "Whoever you are, you don't have clearance to-"

  " Elder Maxson! " Danse roared, ignoring the red-headed proctor in favor of tilting his whole body back to project his voice upwards. " You know why I'm here! "

  " Abomination! " Maxson shouted, sounding almost gleeful . He bolted for the lift, as if he expected Danse to flee. The paladin stood his ground though, patiently waiting for the elder to arrive at the lower level.

  "Danse? You…" Ingram trailed off, scrambling across the square. "Is it really you in there, Danse?"

  "Yes, Proctor." 

  There was so much more he wanted to say, so much more to explain , but Maxson's arrival on the ground effectively cut off Danse's conversation. "I knew you would return, you traitor ." He asserted smugly as he marched over to Danse. "How kind of you to give me the privilege of ending you myself ."

  Danse held up his hands peaceably. "I am unarmed, Maxson. I'm not here for a fight. I am simply here to request the amicable release of...of General Vega." He used the Minutemen title on a whim, watching Arthur's nostrils flare in irritation.

  "Oh General Vega , is it? The Minutemen send a machine to do their dirty work? Or have you already infiltrated their ranks with more of your kind?" Maxson spat. 

  Danse shook his head. "This may come as a shock to you, Elder Maxson, but I had no idea I was a synth." He heard Ingram gasp behind him. Even Maxson looked momentarily startled at his admission and Danse seized the opening to reason, "through the entirety of my career I've done nothing to betray your trust, Arthur. And I never will. Please," Danse implored, "we need General Vega if we hope to eradicate the Institute."

  "You expect me to believe that you wish to eradicate the Institute? You were born of it!" Arthur spat venomously. "You even standing here is an affront to nature, you scum . The Brotherhood does not negotiate with-"

  "Elder Maxson, wait!" Ingram interrupted him sharply. "He's telling the truth. Vega is instrumental to gaining entry to the Institute. Our whole reason for being in the Commonwealth is to destroy the Institute. If we lose this chance-"

  "I will not be spoken down to by my own troops, Proctor!" Maxson raged. 

  "Arthur, listen to me . You and Danse having a pissing match should be the least of our concerns." Ingram raised an eyebrow. "If he meant us harm, I feel like he would have come with a battalion or two. Danse might be a little dense , but he's never lacked battlefield intelligence."

  "This thing isn't Danse, so stop referring to it as such!" 

  "Until proven otherwise, yes, he is . His DNA matched that Institute crap. It's him, Maxson. It's always been him. Sure, you might find it easier to think that the Institute grabbed the real Danse while he was out and about, but I don't think he would be reported as a missing asset if he was supposed to be here." Proctor Ingram theorized as she crossed her arms, her armor frame creaking. 

  "Just give me Elizabeth, Maxson." Danse pleaded. "This isn't a fight you want."

  "Oh, on the contrary. This is the fight I want." Maxson seethed. "A chance to prove Brotherhood superiority once and for all! We will settle this as it is written in the Litany!"

  "You sincerely wish to have a live-fire trial?" Danse asked incredulously, "a Litany trial, Arthur? As I recall, you stated before that you were above such practices."

  "We live in unprecedented times, traitor." Maxson drew himself up to his full height. "My authority has been brought into question again and again. It seems only right that I battle my chief dissenter."

  Danse was at a loss for words. Maxson's behavior was so irrational, he was almost tempted to consider whether the elder himself had been replaced by a synth. But no, voicing that fear would no doubt send Maxson into an even worse froth.

  "When I defeat you, it will finally affirm the truth of the Brotherhood: that we were meant to stand tall atop the corpses of abominations, meant to triumph! " Maxson's eyes were wild as he turned to Ingram. "Proctor, you will bear witness to our Litany agreement. And now, abomination , issue your challenge." The elder demanded.

  "Arthur-"

  " Issue it or be slagged where you stand! " Maxson screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.

  Danse had never personally engaged in a Litany trial. His memory of the terminology was hazy at best, but he still made an attempt. "As a Brotherhood of Steel paladin," he began haltingly, saluting and then extending his hand to Maxson. "I am issuing a formal challenge against your authority as elder of this chapter. Through your actions and your deeds, you have proved yourself unfit to lead in my eyes. We will engage in combat under your terms, and should I emerge victorious, I ask that you relinquish General Vega to me."

  "And when I emerge victorious, I will kill you." Maxson stated confidently. 

  "So be it." Danse knew he had very little agency in this matter. Maxson wanted to fight him, and Maxson always got his way. "Your terms, Elder?"

  "No weapons or armor. We fight with nothing but the skills we possess. The first one pushed out of the circle loses." Maxson smirked. "You might be a synth, but a bullet in your head puts you down just as easily as any feral."

  "You give me your word as Elder that you will turn Vega over to the custody of the Minutemen if I win?" Danse insisted, his heart slamming in his chest. Oh God, he would have to fight Maxson. Worse still, he would have to beat him. Arthur's prowess in combat was almost fabled , that story about the deathclaw part of this chapter's mythos.

  "I will give you nothing, creature , and it will be far more than you deserve. But certainly, if you manage to beat me, I'll see to it that your co-conspirator is relinquished to your care." Maxson sneered. "Proctor, send out the announcement that we will have entertainment shortly."

  "Sure thing, Elder." Ingram muttered, sidestepping away as Danse removed his helmet. 

  "I want everyone down here and watching, Ingram!" Arthur called as she departed. "Make sure that traitor Vega is escorted to the combat area." He then chuckled in a self-satisfied manner, no doubt taking note of Danse's stern expression. "Oh don't worry, synth . We showed your precious general all the courtesies that the Brotherhood has to offer while we interrogated her."

  Danse knew that Arthur trying to rile him up was technically a good sign. It meant that the other man was attempting to disperse some of his own nerves. However, it was difficult for him to capitalize upon with the worry of Vega possibly being injured getting added onto the pile of Danse's concerns. The growl erupted from him unintentionally, burring in his chest like a hacksaw. "Maxson, if you-"

  "Do not speak to me, freak ." Arthur hissed.

  Danse stewed as a crowd began to form. At least now they would have an audience. Hundreds of eyes watching his every move, but also watching Maxson's. Danse hoped that the scribe at the gate hadn't just been spouting optimistic nonsense. 

  The paladin emerged from his armor, standing at attention beside the frame as a vertibird whirred by overhead, descending from the Prydwen. Upon their first sight of him, the troops began talking amongst themselves. Danse reasoned that it must be quite the shock for most of them, to see him alive and well. 

  Please be alright, Vega , the paladin begged mentally. Please , Elizabeth .

  He heard her coming long before he saw her, watching the crowd part for a lone knight in power armor. "You're a fuckin' piezashet , y'know that? Just a fuckin' asshole! " Backhand roared, struggling and straining against the iron grip of the knight that was dragging her along. "Let me go , y' fuckin' cockass'n sunuva' fuck! "

  Danse blinked, a bit impressed with the vitriol the general was spitting considering her appearance. She looked like a stretch of bad road, gaunt, both of her eyes ringed yellow-green from faded bruising and her glasses absent. The whole left side of her face bore the distinct grate marks of the Prydwen's catwalks, indicating that she had been slammed against the floor. Her Vault suit was in shambles, half-ribboned and hanging off of her shoulder at a rakish angle, and her hair was a tangled, greasy mess.

  Danse catalogued it all and swiftly tucked it away for later. Compartmentalize . She's alive and ambulatory. Priority is Maxson , he instructed himself sternly. Focus . You can't afford to be distracted right now. You face the elder of the Brotherhood of Steel .

  All of that flew out the window the moment he heard Elizabeth's voice crack. "D... Danse? " She asked tremulously, "Danse, you're alive? "

  Danse nodded, not looking at her. "For better or for worse, I am."

  "I…" Backhand paused. "What's going on, Danse? I-I thought that...I thought you were…"

  Her obvious distress gave Danse an odd rush of guilty comfort. She would have missed him. Had she mourned him when she thought he was dead?

  To hell with it . 

  Danse turned to Elizabeth, carefully tipped her chin up and pressed a corner of the bandanna around his neck to her lips. "For luck." He murmured with a thin smile, cupping the right side of her face so he didn't hurt her. She just stared up at him, those eyes bright with pent-up emotions. The knight securing her coughed awkwardly and Danse stepped back, feeling Vega's gaze on him even as he moved to face Maxson.

  Ingram cleared her throat and announced above the rising hubbub, "this is a Litany trial! The conditions are no weapons or armor, strictly empty-handed combat. If Paladin Danse manages to remove our elder from the circle, the Brotherhood has agreed to release the former Knight Vega into Minutemen custody. If our elder removes the paladin from the circle, Paladin Danse has agreed to allow the elder to pass swift judgement upon him."

  "Say it how he said it, Proctor!" Danse barked, his deep voice carrying well. "He plans to kill me if he wins, don't shy away from it!" He heard Vega swear before the crowd of knights, aspirants and squires around him voiced their mixture of dismay and apprehension. "Elder Maxson has deemed me a threat to the Brotherhood and has forced my hand. So now we engage in a combat trial as it is written in the Litany."

  "Trying to turn my troops against me, abomination?" Maxson huffed as he discarded his heavy battle coat and began rolling up his sleeves. "I can't say I'm surprised, but I am disappointed. I had hoped you would meet your end with some shred of dignity."

  Danse shrugged, Backhand's lucky bandanna brushing his chin when he raised his head. "You haven't won yet, Maxson." He reminded the younger man with a sad smile.

  Arthur lunged at him suddenly, dust flying with the speed of his approach. Danse barely managed to sidestep, latching on to Arthur's wrist and shoulder. The paladin used the other man's momentum against him, redirecting him around his body and kicking his legs out from beneath him.

  "Are we beginning now, Arthur?" He asked sharply, that tactical portion of his brain considering the merits of stomping down on Maxson's groin with all his might.

  But no, no, he couldn't--Maxson was the elder -

  Arthur flailed on the ground, his face red with fury as he clawed at Danse's hands on him. The paladin released him and stepped back, not overly eager to stay within striking distance of the formidable elder. Unfortunately, Maxson didn't leave him much of a choice in the matter. The younger man darted forward again, too low for Danse to redirect him. The paladin took the brunt of Arthur's shoulder to his midsection, gasping out a pained breath even as he tried to brace his footing. 

  Arthur's shoulder drove deeper into his stomach and the younger man grappled Danse's legs, heaving him backwards off the ground . Danse frantically grabbed at Maxson's back before the younger man pinned him bodily, the two of them hitting the gravel with a bone-jarring impact. 

  Danse still hadn't been able to catch his breath and he barely got his arms up in time as Arthur cocked back for his first punch.

  Maxson tended to machine-gun when it came to his blows, pummeling his target to a pulp within the first flurry. Danse had watched him fight enough to know that this was possibly the worst position for him to be in. Here, Maxson could just rain attacks down onto him until his damn arms broke, beat him into submission without even having to get him outside the boundaries. "You will die. In the dirt . Like the dog you are!" Maxson screamed as he struck Danse. 

  He's the elder. He's the elder. But...

  Danse gritted his teeth. No . If Maxson was doing to kill him, he was going to work for it. Danse wouldn't hand him his fragile existence on a silver platter. Not anymore. Never again . Every assault, every misguided order, every time his admiration or willingness to help had been taken advantage of…

  Danse sucked in a breath and shoved Maxson in the chest with all his might, knocking the other man off of him. " Fuck you Arthur! " He spat, suddenly red-hot angry . He got to his feet and loomed over the elder of the Brotherhood, smoldering with rage.

  Maxson seemed confused, like he couldn't believe Danse was actually fighting back . He scrambled back to an upright position, the two of them circling each other much more warily now. 

  "You should have just laid down and died like a good soldier!" Maxson taunted, feinting a few jabs on the left before he swung in from the right. His fist caught Danse in the jaw, snapping the older man's head to the side as he continued, "should have just let me break you, Danse!"

  Danse, reeling from the hit, staggered back a step and dropped to one knee. No, get up . Don't let him do this to you . He forced himself back up, glancing the next punishing blow off his shoulder and then landing a check of his own that sent Maxson sprawling on his back. 

  "Get up, Arthur!" Danse shouted, his fists clenched. " Get the fuck up and fight me! "

  So fast Danse almost missed it, Arthur whipped his combat knife out of his boot sheath and rushed him with it, holding the blade low in an effort to conceal the weapon.

  The blade that killed the deathclaw . 

  The point barely grazed Danse's arm as he flinched back, razor-sharp steel easily parting the flannel and skin beneath it. 

  He was in trouble now. Maxson unarmed was bad enough, but Maxson using a weapon he was intimately familiar with absolutely spelled certain death for Danse. Never mind that they had agreed on no weapons. Danse doubted anyone was exactly refereeing a Litany trial. As long as they stayed within the circle, he was under the impression that he was on his own.

  Arthur slashed wildly at him, no longer bothering for subtlety as he openly attacked Danse with the knife. Maxson had this hideous, leering smirk on his face the whole time; he was playing with his food. 

  Danse felt like an idiot for even thinking that he had a chance at winning when Maxson buried the blade in his shoulder.

  But what else could he do? Die in the dirt , like Arthur had screamed at him?

  " You're a cheating sunuvabitch, Arthur! " Vega's voice rang out loud and clear like the crack of a whip. Danse saw her out of the corner of his eye, the woman struggling vainly against the armored vambrace that encircled her waist. " Coward! " She yelled indignantly.

  Danse smiled thinly through the pain, gripping Maxson's wrist on the knife with enough force to make Arthur grunt. His free hand clamped down on the crook of Maxson's elbow, keeping the younger man locked in that position. Maxson headbutted him to try and make some space and Danse slammed their heads together harder, baring his teeth and snarling in Arthur's face. 

  Between the two of them, Arthur would always be smarter and quicker than Danse. 

  But Danse was stronger . Danse thrived in the trenches and on the front lines. Maxson may have called him a dog as an insult, yet there was truth in his words. Danse was a bulldog , boots on the ground, chewing for the jugular until the day he died. This wasn't his first time fighting for his life against insurmountable odds and he was finally refusing to roll over for Arthur.

  Something flashed in Maxson's eyes for a split-second and Danse latched onto it. "You're afraid of me, aren't you Maxson?" He panted, maintaining his death grip as Arthur began to struggle to free himself. "Of what I could do to your leadership, your elder status-"

  " Shut the fuck up!" Maxson seethed, the palm of his free hand crashing into Danse's throat. The paladin stumbled back and dropped to the ground, his lungs screaming for air as the blade tore loose. Maxson, instead of just finishing him off, began to pontificate, watching Danse writhe and hack for air in the dirt. "You know Danse, I saw what you had with Cutler and I envied it. I searched for years , trying to find something like it. I failed, naturally. So the only solution was to get Cutler out of the picture. But you were stubborn . You longed for a dead man, entirely ignoring the needs of your leader!" Maxson hissed, grinding the heel of his boot against the wound on Danse's shoulder. "And if I couldn't have you wholly, I would break you."

  Danse knew on a technical level that the wound should hurt. His face automatically winced. But all he could focus on was Arthur's words, his confession . The heel of the elder's boot, already sticky with blood, crushed down on the side of Danse's head next. 

  "Why so quiet now, Danse? Do I behave like a man who fears you, freak? " Maxson mocked him, delivering one last kick before backing away.

  Danse laid there in the gravel, bruised, bleeding; dazed not just by pain but by the knowledge that Maxson had sent Cutler away on purpose. Maxson had sent Cutler to his death. Sent Brandis to his death. Sent Danse to his death.

  " Well , synth? For being so confident, you are remarkably silent!" Arthur needled. "Where's all that righteous wrath you threatened me with? I wanted a fight! "

  Danse noticed dimly that the crowd was entirely still around them. It was eerie, like everyone else had vanished and it was just he and Arthur.

  Danse raised his left arm, the whole limb shaking violently, and he curled his fingers to flip Maxson off.

  The crowd's judgemental silence dissolved into laughter and rowdy shouts, both for and against the paladin. He vaguely picked up Vega yelling, " Attaboy! "

  Arthur sputtered with fury. He leaped at Danse, no doubt enraged enough to slit his throat. All Danse could think to do was hike his knees up, planting them firmly in Maxson's pelvis and then catapulting the smaller man up and over his body. Maxson landed several feet away on his back, giving a pained grunt as the wind was knocked out of him by the impact. 

  The knife clattered and skidded through the dirt and gravel, out of reach for the moment. Danse floundered to roll over, trying to keep the distance between himself and Arthur while the dust settled. When it did, though, he realized something. 

  Arthur's entire body was outside the circle. 

  Danse blinked, eyes wide as he realized that not only did that mean he had won, that meant Arthur had lost. In front of everyone .

  " Freak! " Maxson shrieked, staggering back to his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at the wounded paladin. "At least Cutler had the good sense to get himself killed , unlike you and fucking Brandis! " The elder screamed, blood and saliva flying from his mouth. "You two are like goddamn radroaches! "

  "Elder Maxson?" Rhys . He sounded so hesitant, so unlike himself. "Sir, did you...did you send our squad out here purposely? "

  "It is not your place to question me, Knight! And don't act like Danse didn't tell you as much, I'm certain he wasted no time vilifying me upon your arrival to the Commonwealth!" Maxson spat ruthlessly. "Traitorous liar! "

  "I'm afraid the paladin may have been too preoccupied with keeping his squadron alive to convey any personal irritation regarding you , sir." Haylen said dryly. "Perhaps you can fill us in on what we might have missed?"

  Maxson, instead of answering, threw himself back at Danse. 

  …

  Danse hit the ground with Maxson on top of him and Backhand screamed something abusive that was extremely unflattering to the elder's lineage.

  Arthur grabbed Danse by the collar of his worn shirt and slammed the back of his head against the ground, the elder appearing to snap as he howled with rage and punched Danse again and again and again -

  Vega's fists clenched in her binds and she struggled futilely against the knight holding her, willing Danse to fight back, to do something , don't die on me!

  Suddenly a huge gauntlet was seizing Maxson by the seat of his pants, tossing the young man off to the side. 

  "That is enough ." Brandis, Brandis , how had he even gotten there?! Backhand had last seen him in the bowels of the Prydwen as she was being led out from the cell! The elderly paladin stood tall over the two bedraggled men in the dirt, cracking his knuckles in his gauntlets. "What is the meaning of this, Maxson?" He asked furiously, tone sharp through the speakers of his helmet. "You would disgrace trial by combat in such a manner? How dare you! You bring shame upon the Litany!"

  "Stay out of my way, you meddling old fool!" Maxson ordered, getting shakily to his feet.

  "Or what, you'll beat me to a pulp as well?" Brandis retorted. "You've turned against your troops, Arthur, the men and women you swore to lead with integrity. You've freely admitted to sending soldiers to their deaths because it suited you , not the needs of the Brotherhood. You've brought nothing but disgrace to our chapter, Arthur! Look around you! " Brandis exclaimed, gesturing at the crowd. "You're a tyrant , Maxson! Not one amongst the ranks would stand up to you, not one would shake you back to reality, and those that tried are now lying in the damn dirt ."

  "Be quiet! "

  "You cannot silence me, Maxson." The old paladin said calmly. "You've tried and failed before."

  "What would you have me do, Brandis? He's a synth ." 

  "Perhaps." Brandis allowed. "But all I see is a man who obeyed your stipulations and threw you out of your circle, Maxson. According to our tenets and the Litany, his requests must be met. Release Vega to his custody."

  Maxson snarled futilely. "You will regret crossing me, Brandis!" He warned. "Stand down now! "

  "I have no squadron left for you to kill, Elder ." The older paladin scoffed a little. "What will you hold over my head? Retirement?" He tipped his helmet towards the knight who had Vega. "I said, release her ."

  The knight who had been holding Backhand let her go with a mumbled apology, and without any hesitation she took off at a dead run for Danse. Her whole body ached from the heavy-handed treatment Maxson had inflicted on her, but in the light of getting Danse back it was an easy burden to bear.

  She tumbled to her knees, her hands still bound in front of her as she called his name. He groaned in reply, grimacing when she touched his arm. "Danse, holy shit ." Backhand breathed. 

  The paladin exhaled a broken laugh, barely opening his eyes. "Did I win?" He asked blearily. "Everything is spinning."

  Backhand couldn't help the sob that escaped her as Danse pawed blindly at her bound hands, the young woman opening her mouth to say something. 

  There was a commotion behind her, Brandis shouting " no Maxson! " and then a gunshot. Backhand froze as a plume of dirt kicked up bare inches from Danse's head, the paladin jerking away from the impact. 

  She pitched herself forward, bridging Danse's form with her own by propping her weight up on her elbows. "Don't move, Danse." She whispered, "I've got you, okay? If he wants to shoot you he's gonna' have to get through me ."

  "Don't try to--Vega, I order you to get out of the way! How dare you defy me!" Maxson struggled against Brandis' attempts to take the service pistol from him, waving the gun wildly in the air. " Traitors! Let the synth meet its fate!"

  "Vega, you need to... Elizabeth , he'll shoot you, please -" Danse begged, weakly shoving at her side. "The Brotherhood needs-"

  " Fuck the Brotherhood, Danse!" Backhand yelled at him. "If this is how they treat you , someone who's spent his entire career fighting for their cause, then I don't want shit to do with them!"

  The report of the service pistol cut through the air once more, and Backhand's body collapsed on top of Danse.

Part Sixteen

[elizaviento]

If you are up for it: Reader waking up in the middle of the night to see Flesh Curtains Rick sitting outside and writing/composing a song? Finds out it is a song about them, maybe some melancholic vibes?

Okay, I really tried to be more precise with your request, but Rick wouldn’t allow it.  He had other things in mind.  I still hope you enjoy it!

This will be a continuation from my other Flesh Curtains Rick request titled Helping Hands.

Holding Out

(Flesh Curtains Rick x Reader)

NSFW – 2900 words of straight up, unapologetic smut.

(FYI:  Helping Hands can be found in the Rick Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.)

*****

After Rick dropped me off at my house that first night, I honestly expected to never see him again.  But, I kept his number in my phone as a reminder of the mutual fun we shared.  Every now and then, I’d pull his contact up and my mind would immediately be back there on that ratty old couch in that shitty bar with Rick aggressively stroking his cock while growling the filthiest shit I’d ever heard in my direction.  I wasn’t exactly innocent but it was the most erotic experience of my life up to that point.

One day, not long after that fateful night, my boyfriend caught me staring at my phone with a goofy far away look on my face.  At least, that’s what he called it.  And, the more time that passed, the more I realized that Todd was a complete idiot, just as Rick assumed.  It was little things at first – like the way he always wiped his mouth on my hand towels after brushing his teeth, staining them with toothpaste.  

Or the way he would enter my living room and change the television channel while I was in the middle of a show or movie.  “Oh, you were watching that?”

Or his shitty taste in music.  “Are you listening to that Meat Hooks band again?”

That was the last straw.  “They’re called the Flesh Curtains, Todd.  You know that!”

Soon after, I told him I was done and then completely ghosted on him.  He kept trying to contact me for a while afterward.  He even wrote me a sappy love letter and left it on my front porch.  “I planned to propose to you this summer,” he lied.  But it was done and I could continue to relive that night with Rick without guilt.

I wasn’t a moron.  I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rick had plenty of groupies to choose from each and every night.  No, I’d never see him again unless it was in the crowd of another concert.  And, that was fine.  That was… normal.

Or so I thought.

It was 2:00 am when I was awoken by a loud knock on my front door.  Naturally, I was terrified.  No one knocks on your front door at 2:00 am unless someone is gravely hurt or dead.  My mind conjured up every possible disaster until I heard a voice calling my name from outside.  

“Heyyy – hey sexy girl!  Let – lemme in!”

I knew that voice.  I began to slowly creep toward the door to look through the peephole.

“Shit, is this the right house?” I heard the voice say, after another round of pounding knocks.  It couldn’t be…

It was.  Rick Sanchez was standing on my front porch in the middle of the night.  What kind of dream was this?

Another round of knocks rained down on the door before I snapped out of my shocked stupor and realized that my neighbors would eventually get pissed enough to call the cops.  I peered through the peephole one more time to confirm that I wasn’t going insane before I slowly unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door.  He was facing away from it, running his long fingers through his tousled hair, but turned on a dime to press his face in the crack the moment he heard the lock disengage.

“What the hell?” I asked, more to myself than him.

“Hey, baby. I was think – thinkin’ about you and thought I’d stop by.”

He looked absolutely gorgeous and I was on the verge of throwing the door open to drag him inside and straight to my bed before I reined myself in.  I was a reasonable human being who practiced self control on a daily basis.  I couldn’t let one man completely unravel me, even if he was a member of my favorite band.

“Do you even know where you are right now?” I asked through the crack.  I kept my chain lock in place, preventing the door from opening any wider.  He pressed his face in closer and attempted to peer around me to see inside my house.

“That – uh – that idiot boyfriend of yours here?”  Okay, so maybe he knew exactly where he was.

“No.  I broke up with him a few weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t call me?” he asked, trying to push the door open further.  The chain lock tightened and halted his progress.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked offended.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Come on, baby.  Let me – lemme in and I’ll eat your pussy ‘til you cry.”  He reached his hand through the crack and fisted the front of my t-shirt in his hand.  “I – I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, ” he growled, pulling me further toward the crack until my face was pressed against it.  I was paralyzed, his filthy mouth rendering me completely helpless as he leaned forward to press his face as close to mine as he could, running his tongue along the side of my mouth.

I pushed him back just enough to close the door and fumble the chain lock from its track before throwing it open again and pulling him inside – just how I had imagined.  He was more than receptive, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me close and began licking and nipping his way from my jaw to my neck.  He slithered his hands under my shirt and flattened them on my stomach, gliding them up until he cupped both of my tits in his enormous hands.  I whimpered and leaned my head back when he reached my collar bone and slid his tongue from one side to the other, slowly circling his palms on my hardened nipples.

We didn’t make it to my bed.  We didn’t even make it to the couch.  He pushed me to the floor in the foyer, rid me of my t-shirt and panties and began his assault on my body.  

“Such a – such a naughty girl,” he growled in my ear as he ground his leather clad bulge against my naked pussy.  I wrapped my legs around his torso to keep him there, the friction absolutely delicious.  “I-I-I told you to call me, didn’t I?”  I could only whimper again in response as he roughly rolled both of my nipples between his thumb and index fingers.  “Now, I – I’m gonna have to punish you.”

Oh dear god, I could have came right then and there.  But he pulled back, robbing me of the sweet friction, leaving my cunt throbbing with need.  

“No – nope.  Naughty girls don’t get to cum.  Not – not until I say so.”  

Holy shit, why was this making me so wet?  I’d never been submissive or even considered it.  In fact, I was usually the aggressor in normal sexual situations and thought I was content.  Obviously not.  But, I was completely unsure of what to do or say.  What was the magic response that would coax him to completely defile me?

“Rick.” I sighed, recalling that he enjoyed hearing his name.  Could that be the key?

“Shh,” he chided, moving one hand from my breast to cover my mouth.  The other moved to the floor beside my head to hover his body above mine —just out of reach.  “Be quiet, sweetheart.  Don’t — don’t wanna wake the neighbors, do we?”  I shook my head, eyes wide.  “Thaaat’s a good girl,” he praised, lowering his head to gently plant his teeth in my collar bone.

“Oh fuuuck” I moaned, muffled behind his hand.  I could literally feel my pussy dripping and I flushed in humiliation.  He tsked me with a shake if his head at my reluctance to follow his rules but continued his lecture nonetheless.

“I-I-I’m gonna teach you a lesson, little girl.  For not — for holdin’ out on me.  For makin’ me fuck my hand while I waited for you.”  He sank his teeth into the other side of my collar bone, marking me, before he continued.  I kept completely silent, hoping to keep him happy.

“Mmm, I’m gonna — gonna lick that pussy, baby.  Suck on that clit. ��Until you — y-you’re juuust about to cum.  And, then…”  He let the sentence hang as he removed his hand from my mouth and began kissing his way down my body, pausing at my tits to lavish each nipple with his tongue and teeth.  I squirmed and panted below him, unable to stifle the breathy moans.  Realizing my mistake, I flicked my eyes downward to catch his gaze.  He smirked around my nipple before releasing it with a pop, knowing he’d successful broken me like a wild horse.  Again, I felt my cunt gush and throb.

Finally — finally — he settled between my thighs, lifting and spreading them wide.

“Keep — hold ‘em up for me, sweetheart.  Hands here – behind your knees.”  I did as he instructed, shoving each hand behind each knee to keep them raised and spread.  And, lying there nude in my foyer, I was completely vulnerable.

“Oh, yesss,” he crooned, caressing my inner thighs.  “Such a — such a good girl for me.”

At this point, I was trembling in anticipation, my pussy aching for attention.  I needed him to touch me — right then — or I would die.  When I felt his thumbs spread my lips wide and a warm puff of his breath ghost across my exposed clit, my entire body jerked in response.

“Oh, baby.  You want – need it bad, don’t you?”  The tender tone of his voice suggested that he expected a reply this time.

“Yes, Rick.  Please!” I begged, my voice thin and strained.  He hummed in approval and lightly sucked my clit between his lips.

The pleasure was immediate and intense, forcing another full body jerk and an involuntary cry.  Being seemingly satisfied with my submission thus far, he refrained from scalding me further in favor of sucking just a little bit harder.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” l chanted in a strangled whisper, struggling to keep my hands behind my knees and away from his thick, coarse hair.  I was mere seconds from orgasm, feeling my cunt clinch in preparation.

And, then he stopped.

The change in sensation was so abrupt that my body remained tense in anticipation of immense relief.  But, nothing.  And, the ache returned — tenfold.

“Wha — what?” I huffed between the thundering beats of my heart.  I heard Rick chuckle from below me and I flushed in humiliation once again.  He had me and he knew it.

Then he resumed – lapped at me, sliding his tongue up and down the length of my wet cunt over and over, applying slightly more pressure each time the tip of his tongue swiped up my clit.  He was building me up again – higher and higher; tiny shock waves bringing me closer and closer.

“Rick, oh god.  Rick, please,” I pleaded.  “Please, more.”

He seemed to read my mind as he pressed the flat of his tongue firmly on my clit on the very next upward swipe.  My whispered pleas soon became desperate cries.  Just.  A little.  More.

Then he stopped.

I literally sobbed and gripped the flesh behind my knees tighter, digging my nails deeper.  A moment that felt like a year passed before he resumed again, kissing each of my thighs while pushing two fingers up to the knuckle.

“Oh my god!” I cried as my cunt automatically clamped around the intruding digits. Rick chuckled again and slowly withdrew.  Then pushed back in.

I was on the verge of hyperventilation, my head swimming.  Keeping quiet was now impossible.  I moaned with abandon has he slowly finger fucked me, hooking his fingers to press my g-spot with each stroke.  My legs were trembling and I was so sooo close again.  If he stopped this time, I knew I would cry.

He stopped.

I continued to tremble as I removed my hands from behind my knees, grinding the heels of my palms against my eyes to prevent the tears from flowing freely.  I hated him.  I hated him so fucking much.

“Fuck you,” I sobbed, lowering my legs and clamping them closed.  The ache was literally painful at this point and I wasn’t as much of a masochistic as he clearly wanted me to be.  But, he closed his hands around my knees and lifted my legs up and over his shoulders, ignoring my small protest.

“You – you’ve been so good, baby.  It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he soothed, lowering his face back to my swollen pussy to push his tongue inside.  Now that my hands were free, I fisted them in his hair so he couldn’t get away from me again, grinding my wet cunt on his face.

“Use your fingers again.  Suck on my clit,” I demanded, tugging his hair.  Then, thinking better of it, I added, “Please?”  I felt him moan against me before leaning back to slide his fingers through my folds.

“I-I-I knew you could be sweet,” he praised, placing a soft kiss to clit before continuing, “As sweet as this pussy.”

Then he completely unleashed on me – sucking and swiping and flicking with his mouth and tongue while fucking me vigorously with this fingers.  I had been so over stimulated by his prior teasing that the sensory overload was intense.  

“FUCK!” I screamed, clamping my thighs around his head.  “Please don’t stop, Rick!  Please, please!” I begged.  He hummed deeply against my clit while shaking his head from side to side and I came so suddenly and forcefully that my back arched off the floor, grinding my oversensitive clit harder against his tongue.  And, as I came down, he continued to soothe with gentle kitten licks, causing me to whine his name in ecstasy.

When I saw him rise from between my legs, I barked out a laugh.  His hair was totally disheveled from my insistent yanking and his face was completely drenched.

“Oh, you – y-y-you think that’s funny, huh?” he asked, crawling back up my body.  Instead of answering, I grabbed the front of the strip of cloth he passed off as a shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I have a bed, ya know,” I said, nodding my head toward the hallway leading to the bedroom.  Without another word, he hoisted me up and over his shoulder and took me there.

———-

The following morning, I woke before him and spent an hour watching him sleep, trying to understand how this could have happened.  How did I get lucky enough to be chosen that night at the bar?  Was it because I was the only person wearing Flesh Curtains gear?  Why did Rick take a shine to me?  I’m nothing special – just an average girl with a painfully average life.  It could have been nothing more than his desire to get laid and that’s exactly what I’d chalked it up to – until tonight.  He’d intentionally sought me out, fucked me stupid and didn’t leave immediately afterward.  How odd.

Unable to resist any longer, I ran my fingers through his messy hair.  I heard him groan before he rolled over to face me.  When he tried to pull me in for a kiss, I playfully shoved him away.  

“Morning breath!” I joked, giggling when he overpowered me and pressed his lips to mine regardless.  When he flopped back down on his back, I asked, “Why did you come here?”

“Told you – I couldn’t stop t-thinkin’ about you,” he rasped, scrubbing his hand down his face.  

“Humm,” I mused, still uncertain.

“Uh – mind if I take a shower?” he asked.

“Sure.  Towels are in the bathroom closet.”

He climbed out of my bed and strutted to my en suite completely nude and I didn’t even try to hide the goofy grin that spread across my face.  

“Come join me, babe,” he coaxed, reaching a hand toward me.

“I’ll be there in a sec.  Let me put on some coffee.”

When I heard the loud squeak of the faucet and the whooshing of water coming from the shower head, I got up and pulled my robe from the back of the closet door.  In his rush to fuck me last night, he had ripped off his clothes and tossed them all over my room.  I laughed to myself at the memory as I plucked each piece off the floor.  When I got to his leather pants, a small folded piece of paper fell from the back pocket.  I wrestled with my conscious for about two seconds before I gave in and gently unfolded it.  

The handwriting was barely legible, but one thing stood out like a sore thumb – my address, scribbled in the bottom left hand corner.  I scanned the rest of the page, trying to decipher the letters enough to associate them with actual words.  And, when I did, I literally gasped.  

They were song lyrics – with my name peppered throughout.  

The End.

[edsmysterygirl]

Ed Sheeran - Part 1

Wembley, June 15 & Amsterdam, June 28

As many of you know, I was fortunate enough to see Ed twice during this Divide World Tour.

Click here for Part 2. Click here for Part 3.

It all began almost a year ago. On July 8, 2017, tickets went on sale for both shows. I put my boyfriend — who lives close to London — on Wembley duty, and I bought the Amsterdam tickets myself. I went for seats in the sections closer to the middle of the stadium. I figured you wouldn’t be as close as when you picked the sections to the side of the stage, but I wanted to be able to experience the screens properly and from a good angle. We ended up sitting where the red cross is for Wembley (section 122, row 25):

And we ended up sitting here in Amsterdam (section 121, row 2):

I think it’s really cool that I got to experience the show from both sides! I went to see Ed with my boyfriend at Wembley and with a friend from my previous job in Amsterdam.

Click on the Keep Reading link below for more! :-) Please keep in mind that I was quite far away and don’t really have the proper recording devices. And to be honest, I just wanted to enjoy the show and not live it through a camera/phone. So there’s only a couple of my own (bad quality) pictures and short videos in this post, but I just really wanted to share my experience!

Wembley, June 15 We arrived in London around noon. First, we went to have lunch at our favorite Byron Proper Hamburgers restaurant located on The Cut. Around 1pm we travelled up to our hotel, which was a Premier Inn hotel near Wembley. We arrived there at 2pm, checked in and sat in our room for a while. The room was clean, spacious and at the hotel they even had printed out explanations ready of how to get to Wembley. So no complaints there! We arrived at Wembley around 4 pm:

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

Before entering the premises, they checked your ticket. However, the Wembley tickets had no names on them, and they didn’t ask about any of the resale-related stuff either. We went to our designated entrance and sat around on the floor for a bit. I guess you are supposed to queue at the turnstiles, but because it was so quiet still and because we had seats anyway we didn’t start queuing until 4:45pm. The turnstiles opened at 5pm and we went in and had our bags checked. Again, no resale check here... It’s a bit strange to me how there were all these strict rules and all these documents you needed to bring, but in the end the tickets had no names on them, my booking confirmation didn’t even have a card number on it and no one asked anything. From what I understand someone went around some of the queues, but we didn’t see anyone. If you put such a strict system in place, please enforce it. After we went in we had some pizza and a drink. Even though the food was very expensive (as expected), I was really surprised about the quality. That was some good pizza!

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

First up was Jamie! I really enjoyed his set and his energy. He’s such a lovely guy. He even went out to the merch stand on the pitch to meet fans at the end of his set. The only thing I have to say is that the sound quality wasn’t great for his set. I don’t know if he uses a different mic, or if the band uses different instruments, or if it’s because people are rude and half the stadium is empty during the gig, but it’s very hard to hear him because of the echo. The sound levels seem fine, his voice is loud enough compared to the band, but it’s so hard to understand a word of what he’s singing/saying. I thought that was such a shame because he’s such a good performer and his songs are great! Below a video of the sing-along part of (I think) the last song of his set, Ahead of Myself:

© edsmysterygirl/dailymotion

Then came Anne-Marie! It was only during her set that I realized where I was and what I was doing there: it was almost time for Ed!!! But first it was time to enjoy Anne-Marie. 

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

I’ve listened quite a lot to her album recently and Ciao Adios and Friends are played regularly on the radio over here so I knew all her songs. I was quietly singing along at this point, still a bit unsure... But I was really enjoying myself so far.

© edsmysterygirl/dailymotion

Now it was finally time for Ed... But first it was time for a break. And time for a toilet break. Apparently more people had the same idea. The queue was soooo long. I was so worried I wouldn’t make it back in time. But I did!!

It was surreal to see him walk on stage. He. Was. Actually. There. RIGHT. THERE. He played the standard setlist he’s been playing lately. First of course, Castle on the Hill. He was SO smiley. And the crowd went wild. Everyone got up when he came on and no one ever sat down again. 

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

Then was Eraser. Even though Castle on The Hill does have some elements of layering, I feel like the layering towards the end of Eraser was the first time I properly experienced the loop station live. When you listen to live recordings you can make out every single loop fragment if you listen closely, but there is no such thing when you’re there live. It all just blends together into one big ball of awesomeness. Here’s the start of Eraser:

© edsmysterygirl/dailymotion

Next was The A Team. It was incredibly to finally hear that song live after hearing it for so many years on the radio. Because yes, in the Netherlands The A Team still gets regular radio play for some reason. Not that I mind! Not at all! After watching Glastonbury I was expecting a sea of lights during this song. But for some reason, Wembley missed the memo. 😂 I guess it also was because it was still so light out!

I don’t know when exactly the speeches were. But I think it was before Don’t/New Man that he told the story about how much of a boring concertgoer he is because he tends to not move much. And that it’s okay to sing and dance and go nuts and that you don’t have to be embarrassed because everyone is looking at him anyway. And if someone is looking at you, they might just join in because they see you having a good time. And I’m SO glad he told that story. Because, even though I have heard it about a dozen times online, actually being there and feeling a bit awkward and not sure, hearing that? It’s amazing and it’s what allowed me to relax and finally get into the show. :-) Don’t/New Man is the only complete recording I have, so enjoy:

© edsmysterygirl/dailymotion

Next was Dive, but not before we participated in the who’s-the-loudest-crowd competition. I don’t think we broke any records, but IT WAS LOUD. Dive was absolutely amazing. I know a few people are disappointed Dive was never brought out as a single, but I think it makes it extra special. It’s amazing to see it live and hear the whole crowd singing along. I think Dive is a song that works best like that, and not necessarily as a radio single.

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

And then Bloodstream!!! Holy shit. The bounce thing. I always assumed it was kinda awkward to do. But it wasn’t at all. And it was so cool to see the whole pitch doing it in front of us. And don’t get me started on the ending! The “all the voices in my mind” part is hypnotizing. Absolutely amazing. You can just FEEL the music in your body.

© edsmysterygirl/Tumblr

Happier was up next. It’s such a beautiful song. You know what’s funny? The first time Ed sings “you’re happier,” you can hear the audience echo back “aren’t you?” even though that line is not supposed to be there. But we’re so used to singing it in the rest of the song that apparently we automatically do it the first time! Lol. Here’s the start of Happier:

© edsmysterygirl/dailymotion

Unfortunately, Tumblr only allows 5 videos per post, sooo...

Click here for Part 2. Click here for Part 3.

[creativitymouth]

The World Forgetting by The World Forgotten Pt.5

A/N - This is a wild ride and it’s going to keep going up. Thanks again for the support. 

Summary: (Y/N) would do anything for her friends including strumming around in sewage. AgedUp!SlowBurn!RichieTozierxFem!Reader. 

Trigger Warning: Language, Depressive Themes, Mentions of Neglect and Abuse. 

Chapter 5

The Barrens

If you could have, you would have given into primal instinct and eaten Beverly as though you were a Zombie. Maybe even turned her so she would have to spend her days walking the earth and listening to you scold her about privacy, that’s how upset you were. Bev had walked in on you and Richie asleep together on your bed that morning and decided that making a huge scene out of nothing was called for.

“Shit!” Beverly yelled causing Richie to stir. “Oh, shit fuck, fucking shit, are you guys wearing clothes?” Richie’s eyes had shot open as he moved to sit up. “Do not move if you aren’t wearing anything Tozier! I swear!”

“I’m wearing clothes for fucks sake Beverly Marsh, calm down.” He grumbled, still slightly exhausted. Richie couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. Sure, he was sleeping next to the girl he loved, in her bed but that didn’t seem like enough to make Marsh act like she’d seen a pig anus. That’s when he noticed that you were basically under him as he slept on his stomach, your hand balled into his shirt and his arm thrown across his waist. His eyes widened, and it was his turn to swear. “Oh shit.” He mumbled. Yeah if he walked on anyone in this position he would have acted the same way.

“Shh,” you mumbled groggily, “don’t go. Sleep more. Warm.” Your hands tightened on his shirt and he stiffened.

“Holy shit.” He said again, not sure what else to do as he stared at your sleeping figure.

“I’m never going to let her live this down.” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of Beverly's voice. A second ago you had been sure it was just part of a dream but now you shot up so quickly that Richie almost fell off the bed.

“Beverly?” Your face reddened at the thought of the position you had been in, and the fact that you had spoken out loud and not in your head.

“Is it time for me to clap and say finally?” Bev asked, and you missed Richie frantically mouthing no as he shook his head behind you.

“What?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes. You looked down at Richie who was just beginning to sit up.

“Nothing.” Richie stated grumpily. “Your best friends just a fucking weirdo.” You pushed him gently on the shoulder.

“She’s my favorite weirdo.” You chuckled awkwardly, still unsure of how you and Richie had found yourselves in that position. “My favorite weirdo, who I still don’t know why she’s here.”

“Oh!” She stated, still staring at Richie strangely. “Well, I figure while you're off with the losers I could stay in my room and when you come back we could have fun.” Beverly wiggled her eyebrows at her last statement. Her idea of fun always ended with you waking up with a headache and a sore throat.

“Her room?” Richie asked.

“Yeah she has a room here. It used to be the guest bedroom, but since she’s here so often my parents let her turn it into her own personal room.”

“Those money bags are good for something.” She stated. “Well, I’ll leave you two to,” she stopped glancing between you and Richie, “whatever the hell is happening here.” She walked away, and you soon heard the bedroom door close behind her.

“So.” You said awkwardly, tapping your leg.

“Yeah.” He smirked at you. “We should probably get ready to go.” You nodded, getting up to grab his leather jacket from a chair in the far corner of the room. He raised his eyebrows.

“You mind?”

“Not at all.”

Now, you were swimming in Richie’s leather jacket, swimming in your thoughts, and walking through the barrens behind Billy to some unknown destination. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about Richie and the could have been. Beverly was starting to get into your head. You couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of being curled up to him. For Richie it was no different, maybe worse seeing you were wearing his jacket. He desperately wanted you to know how he felt, and now he felt a glimmer of hope that you felt the same with the way. Hope was a dangerous thing and often led to heartbreak or miscommunication, but Richie decided to hold on as he recalled the feeling of your tiny fists pulling on his shirt.

“Are you in pain?” Richie asked suddenly as he made his way over to you.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know they say the fall from Heaven is pretty painful. So, I was wondering if you were okay after it.” Your face flushed bright red as you sputtered, Richie smirking down at you.

Yeah, he thought to himself, this might work. Richie was about to say something else when Stan cut him off.

“That's poison ivy.” Stan said brushing past you and pointing at a plant. “And that's poison ivy.” He continued. “And that's poison ivy.”

“Where?” You asked following behind to look at where Stan was pointing. Stepping in poison ivy, though trivial when compared to your long list of other problems, was not something you wanted to do. You always hated the feeling of being itchy and noted the lack of calamine lotion that you had at home.

“Where's the poison ivy?” Eddie cut in now, beginning to grow frantic. Where you dreaded poison ivy just for the fact of being uncomfortable, Eddie saw all the possible Long-Term Effects of poison ivy map themselves out in his head.

“Nowhere, not every fucking plant is poison ivy Stanley.” Richie said shaking his head as you Stan and Eddie all crowded around some plants.

“Ok well I'm starting to get itchy now and I'm pretty sure this is not good for me.” Eddie said looking back at Richie as he started to scratch himself. It was as if his skin was crawling just from the mention of the poisonous plant. His brain couldn’t stop itself from imagining a scenario where he fell face first, mouth opened, and swallowed some of it. That would mess up his digestive tract, and possibly his lungs maybe even leading to death. Subconsciously Eddie found himself reaching in his fanny pack to take a puff of his inhaler.

“It’s in your head Eddie Spaghetti.” You pat him on the shoulder gently, though you were sort of unsure. Stanley was good at plant recognition.

“I don’t know.” Eddie seemed worried, though he put down the respirator.

“Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?” Richie asked him. You turned to look at Stan and Bill who continued to walk towards what looked like the sewers. Your stomach turned, you were wearing jellies again which weren’t made for sewer water. Bill had not said anything about going to the sewers. You grumbled angrily under your breath but continued to follow behind him.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Then you probably have crabs.” You giggled slightly at the comment made by Rich.

“That's so not funny. Tell him (Y/N).”

“Not getting involved.” You raised your hands in the air before stopping next to Stan as Richie and Bill went ahead into the sewer.

“Aren't you guys coming in?” Bill turned around looking from You to Stan to Eddie.

“Yeah, just,” you looked at Stan seeing as he was the bigger of the two boys next to you. “Give me your shoes Stanley.”

“What?”

“I’m wearing Jellies and if I go in there with these on, I actually will get an infection.” You looked at him with large pleading eyes. He sucked his teeth at your expression before looking away and back into the sewers.

“Then what will I -”

“My jellies.” You smiled at him. He blanched for a few moments, looking around at the other losers. No one made any attempt to help him and he sighed.

“Oh, for fucks sake, fine.” You beamed as he grumbled swear words under his breath. He hands you the white converse and then steps on top of your blue jellies so that his feet aren’t touching the ground. He was marveled by how small your feet were. He might have well been standing on the floor, the jellies didn’t support any harsh movements.

“Stan the Man!” You say teasingly as you put his shoes on and walk inside of the sewer. Stan lets out another loud audible sigh as he watched his white converse turn into a murky grey. You were stumbling in the too large shoes, unable to walk properly. Richie grabs your arm to keep you from falling face forward into the water, and his other hand holds a flashlight. Eddie doesn’t miss this and smirked to himself before coming back to the problem at hand.

“That's greywater.” Eddie said looking at you all moving around inside the sewer. You didn’t have a task, so you hung back next to Richie, giving Bill the occasional glance.  

“What the hell is greywater?” Richie asked.

“It's basically piss and shit.” Eddie continued, as Stan watched you ruin his converse. He wondered how he was going to explain the mess to his Dad. “So, I'm just telling you…” Eddie watched as you took the flashlight from Richie's hand. “You guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee.”

“Are you serious?” You asked feeling slightly grossed out. You took note, that Bill wasn’t being very talkative today, maybe it had something to do with the searching for Georgie. Or maybe it was the recurring arguments with his parents. Suddenly, Richie picks up a stick and fishes in the water for some soggy material before pointing it in Eddies direction.

“Doesn't smell like caca to me, Señor.” You laughed out loud at Richie, who turned to you with a mischievous smile on his face.

“O-o-okay I can smell it from here.” Eddie backed away, his hand on Stan's upper arm.

“It's probably just your breath wafting back into your face.” Richie added.

“Have you ever heard of a staph infection?”

“I'll show you a staph infection.” Richie shoved the stick towards Eddie again causing you to laugh more.

“That's so unsanitary.” Stan muttered, uncomfortable on top of your jellies. He would never be able to understand how you could walk around in those shoes all day.

“These...” Eddie paused taking in a small breath. “You guys are like swimming in a toilet bowl right now.” Eddie continued, not letting up on his point about the dirty sewer. “Have you ever heard of listeria?

“Guys!” Bill yelled out suddenly, indicating he found something. All eyes turned to him, watching silently as he lifted a dirty sneaker. You inhaled a deep breath, fear stirring in your stomach.

“Shit.” Richie commented, his saucer eyes growing larger. “Don't tell me that's…”

“No. Georgie was wearing galoshes.” Bill responded, and you exhaled in relief before another question plagued you.

“Whose sneaker is it?” Bill opened it up to show you the initials inside.

“It's Betty Ripsom’s.”

“Shit!” Richie said again.

“Shit, oh god, oh fuck” Stan was inching away from the sewer opening, his face turning sickly green. He was nervous, you all were. There was a missing girls shoe in the fucking sewer. You were all only 16, and you weren’t the fucking scooby gang.

“I don't like this.”

“How do you think Betty feels,” Richie snapped suddenly, “going around these tunnels with only one fucking shoe.”

“What if she's still here?” You whispered quietly, looking down the tunnel. Wondering if maybe Betty Ripsom was feeling as alone right now as you found yourself feeling at night.

“My mom will have an aneurysm if she finds out we were playing down here.” All the boys looked at Eddie, but you suddenly felt a pull. You started to slowly walk past Bill, to hopefully find the lonely Betty Ripsom, a kindred spirit. Find me, find me, find me. Echoed in your head as your heart began to beat rapidly. You could have sworn you saw a singular red balloon floating in the dark. “I'm serious.” You squinted still inching forward slightly towards the balloon. You hadn’t noticed how far you were going.

“(Y/N)?” Stan said your name suddenly and you stopped moving. Your lashes fluttered as you turned around to look at the boys. You wanted to ask if they had seen the strange balloon as well.

“If I were Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me. Georgie too.” Bill said without stutter. You glanced at the balloon one more time wondering its significance. The balloon popped causing you all to jump and you quickly walked back to the group. The sewer was now accompanied by an eerie feeling, the balloon almost like an omen. You weren’t the only one who felt it, it had creeped the entire group out.

“What if I don't want to find them?” Richie said, and Bill looked crestfallen. Balloons didn’t just find their way into sewers. “I mean, no offense, Bill, but I do not want to end up like,” he paused considering his next words, “I don't want to go missing either.” Only that wasn’t Richie's real fear, he had seen you inching farther down the sewer pipe towards the impossible balloon, though he had chosen not to say anything. He was afraid your hero complex and curiosity would cause you to be one of the next missing kids. And Richie wouldn’t survive that.

“He has a point.” Eddie said.

“You too?” You looked at Eddie pointedly, the voices in your head quieting down enough to engage in conversation. You wanted to continue down the sewage pipe, find Georgie and Betty Ripsom and bring them back to the souls that were lost when they went missing.

“It's summer.” Eddie looked away from your prying eyes guiltily. “We're supposed to be having fun. This isn't fun. This is scary,” Eddie shuddered glancing once more at where the balloon had been “and disgusting.”

“Guys, what if it was one of us who went missing? Wouldn’t you do anything to find them again?” The 3 fearful boys looked away. “I know I would, I know Bill would.” They didn’t say anything, choosing to stay quiet. “Richie?” Richie looked up, making eye contact with you finally. He thought of you going missing, and his stomach churned.

“Fuck,” he sighed “yeah, I would.”

“Okay so -” Your voice cut off as a splash was heard. The losers club all glanced at each other before scattering to the edge of the sewer. You gasped when you saw Ben bleeding out into the small river.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Richie asked.

“Ben!” You screeched running down towards him. “Benjamin Hanscom, what happened?” The boys all look at you then at each other, since when did you have friends outside of them and Beverly? How did you even know this kid?

“Since when does she have a life outside of us.” Richie grumbled to Stan who just shrugged.

“Richie!” You yelled, and Richie jogs down towards you. “Lift him up, we’re taking him to the pharmacy.” Richie groans causing you the glare at him. “All of us!”

“Wait,” Stan whined as you shifted Ben and tried to get Richie to carry him, “(Y/N), wait, my shoes!”

The pharmacy visit, was to say the in the least, frustrating. Richie and Stan argued for a good 10 minutes about who would have to drive Ben, eventually it was settled on Richie since his car was already banged up. You had forgotten to give Stan his converse back and he had scolded you for allowing the bottom of his feet to blister. When you finally reached the pharmacy, Richie and yourself helped Ben out before letting him sit on the ground, he wasn’t speaking his eyes wide with trauma. What a terrible way to start life in a new town. Eddie had ranted on and on about Aids not realizing that he was making Ben feel worse, the poor kid didn’t want Aids. It was bad enough that Bowers had managed to carve a small H into Ben’s stomach, if he’d given him Aids on top of that. Well, then his luck was more than just sour.

“But how do you amputate waist?” Eddie had asked, but you yelled at him to shut up telling him that he was going to give Ben nightmares. Eddie was annoyed but continued to try and play doctor until Billy suggested that they go buy something from the pharmacy. You volunteered to go with them since you had money on you, leaving Ben with Richie but not before telling Richie not to say anything crude or insulting. You guys had been picking up different supplies when Beverly strolled into the pharmacy. She saw you and walked over.

“New kid outside looks like someone killed him.” Beverly spoke as she watched you counting the money in your hand. “What happened to him?” You’d barely looked up when she approached you. You knew her smell and voice anywhere and it made it impossible for her to catch you off guard.

“Bowers.” You responded shaking your head. The boys had stopped scouring for supplies, instead all turning to gawk at Bev. “What are you doing here, you’re supposed to be waiting for me at the house.”

“You took too long.” She shrugged before looking at the boys behind you and smiling. They all turned into cherry tomatoes. “You’re going to spend all that money on supplies?”

“I had planned on it.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you looked at her, she had a mischievous twinkle in her eye and you suddenly understood how Richie and she became friends. Devious bastards. “No Bev.”

“Yes Bev.” She smiled at you before taking the money from your hand and shoving it into your back pocket. She took you by the hand and dragged you over to Mr. Keene, who looked up with interest. The boys all stared in wonder, they rarely saw you do something that you considered morally wrong. But Bev, well she brought out that dark curiosity you had. “I like your glasses, Mr. Keene. You look just like Clark Kent.” She spoke with a slight lilt in her voice, wrapping an arm around you with a smile on her face. A spark seemed to flare on his face as he watched you both.

Two girls touching, what a show. You thought sarcastically.

“I don’t know about that,” You said under your breath. Bev gave your shoulder a light squeeze and you had to stop yourself from biting her hand.

“Why thank you.” He responded.

“Can we try them on?” Your eyebrows spiked, the last thing you wanted was to have his glasses on your face. Who knew what perverted things he watched with them.

“You guys sure do everything together.” He licked his lips and you did everything you could not to turn over and hurl. He reminded you a little too much of Bowers when he was on a hunt to satisfy his primal urges. You didn’t know what it was about some men that made them think all woman belonged to them, or lived to entertain them. “Sure.” Beverly smiled as she took them from Mr. Keene’s hands, you grimaced at the look of pure lust that overcame his face. Bev was the first one to try them on, smiling as she did so. Then she turned to you, touching your shoulders with a gentleness that she knew Mr. Keene would love. She took them off herself and slid them onto you, touching your face in the process. From the corner of your eye you could see Mr. Keene breathing heavily at the action. You had never thought shoulders to be sexual before but obviously Mr. Keene believed otherwise. Bev smiled, leaning in and brushing your nose with the tip of her thumb. Your face scrunched up in agitation, through to Mr. Keene you looked sexually frustrated. Bev was way too smart for this, but after all those years with her father she knew no better way to a dirty mans attention. If they wanted to play games with her she would play games with them.   

“What do you think?” She asked Mr. Keene whose entire face was now red. He stared at Beverly, not sparing you much of a glance since the show was over.

“Well how about that, you looked just like Lois Lane.”

“Really?” She smiled, before reaching towards you again and taking them off your face in the same slow movement. “Well, here you go.” She went to hand them to him but not before knocking over some of his supplies. “Shoot, I'm so sorry.” You turned to the boys and signaled for them to take the supplies and run out of there. In the distraction Beverly also took a pack of cigarettes, you made a horrified noise and Beverly smirked.

“It's okay.” Mr. Keene said, with the same disgusting smile. You shook your head before taking Beverly’s hand in yours and walking her out of the pharmacy. “Wait, Beverly –“ You didn’t give her the chance to turn around as you swung the door open and dragged her out.

“He’s gross.” You stated, sparing Bev a disapproving glance.

“Most men are, that’s their downfall.” She smiled. You both stood back and watched as the boys bickered slightly over the proper way to care for Benjamin. The moments that passed were silent and you found yourself lost in your own thoughts. You knew what Bev had said about a man’s downfall was a joke, but you couldn’t help but revel in the truth of that. Offer a man a bite and he might try to take the entire sandwich. Your boys’ parents might have been a lot of things, and none of them good, but at least all their children had turned out to be gentleman. Your eyes landed on Richie and you chuckled slightly. At least in one way or another. Bev nudging you with her elbow when she followed your eyes. “So, Richie?”

“Uh, yeah, Richie.” Your eyebrows raised as she wiggled hers. “Not this again, we’re just friends.”

“Friends who cuddle.”

“We cuddle!” You yelled slightly louder than you would have liked, causing the boys to all turn back to look at you.

“I’d love to see that.” Richie spoke up eyeing you and Bev. “Girl on Girl action.” You rolled your eyes, of course Tozier would.

“Beep Beep Richie.” Stan interrupted causing Richie to chuckle. Bev smirked at you and your cherry red face before making her way over to the bustling scene with you in tow.

“Are you okay, that looks like it hurts.” She asked Ben whose expression softened on seeing her.

“No, I'm good. I just fell.”

“Yeah, right into Henry Bowers.” Richie smirked, also noticing Ben's lovestruck expression.

“Shut it, R-R-Richie!”  Bill interrupted clearly embarrassed, and that’s when it hit you.

Shit, fuck, super fucking shit. Bill and Ben both like Beverly. Fucking hell. This is not going to end well under any intents and purposes. You thought.

“Why? It's the truth.”

“It’s cool,” You interrupted, “I already filled her in.”

“You sure they got The Right Stuff to fix you up?”

“You know w-w-w-w-we'll take care of him.” Bill spoke smiling softly at Beverly. “How’d y-you get a chance to d-distract Mr. Keene long en-en-enough for us to leave?”  

“We made out.” Beverly said, and your eyes widened in horror. “Mr. Keene is a big fan of girl on girl action.”

“Woah.” Richie mumbled as all the boys now stared at you in interest. Though sexuality wasn’t a topic that they really brought up, all the boys had their assumptions about yours. Bi, maybe? That was the long running bet.

“Yeah, my tongue was basically shoved down her throat.” Bev nudged you, as she watched Richie to see if he grew jealous. No such expression ever came, he seemed intrigued. Richie settled with the fact that if he lost your love to Beverly he could cope. You guys had crossed the line of friendship when you’d begun showering together. “She loved every second of it.”

“That,” you paused glancing around you, “That did not happen!” You were sure your face was on fire. “Beverly, tell the truth!”

“It could.” She shrugged, laughing at the different expressions. Richie’s especially. “Maybe I'll see you losers around.” She spoke to the guys.

“You're not coming over tonight.” You pouted, and she shook her head. “You said we’d spend the night together.” The boy’s expression once again became curious.

“Woah.” Richie said again.

“Not like that you fuck!” You yelled at them, embarrassed. As Beverly began to back away, Bill snapped into action.

“Yeah, we were maybe thinking about going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow,” He rushed out, if you want to…” he paused looking at you, “Come?” Beverly opened her mouth to say something, but you were quick to respond.

“She’ll be there!” Bev smiled, shaking her head at you. A smile plagued Bills face as he nodded before walking back to the group. “You want a ride home?”

“Nah, I rather walk.” You pouted again. “Plus, you should stick with your boys.” You turned around looking at the group Bill had just joined. They were arguing, and bustling about. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes landed on a laughing Richie. Bev noticed this but decided against saying anything, for now.

“They are my boys aren’t they.” You said looking back a smile still on your face. “Soon they’ll be yours too Beverly Marsh.” She shrugged as she whipped out a cigarette, your face scrunched up in disgust as you lunged for it, but she ran off laughing. “Lung cancer isn’t attractive Bevy!” You shook your head as she flashed you a middle finger, before turning back to join your boys.

Taglist!!!

Someone sent me an ask about being apart of my taglist, I answered privately and then lost the name. So if your name isn’t on here I am so sorry and please ask again. 

@glue-lamp @apartofthelosersclub @mikoalabearwrites @fightmebub @toziers-girl @firstfannypack @mysticalreadingnerd @imaginethis-st @snarkpunsandsarcasm @neonshock @mari-melancholy @teenwolf2424 @michaels-hands

[trash-the-tozier]

The Disappearance of Georgie Denbrough (8/10)

Title: The Disappearance of Georgie Denbrough

Length ~60.8k (~7.1k for this part)

Summary: The summer between junior and senior year of high school, Bill’s little brother Georgie goes missing.

Warnings: It’s relatively canon-typical in terms of content. For this part there’s explicit language and copious amounts of Richie

Pairings: Richie/Eddie and eventual Ben/Beverly

A/N: hey! Formal apology for this chapter, because it kinda breaks away from the format I wanted for this fic: it's all from Richie's point of view. I know, I'm sorry, but I started writing the scene and didn't realize it was over 8k words until I'd finished it. It's got a lot of stuff I wanted to have be from Richie's perspective, and when I tried reworking it to be from different perspectives it just felt clunky. So... yeah. This chapter is a little longer than the others, and it's all Richie, but we'll return to our regularly scheduled programming in the next part! Thank you for reading!! also posted to my ao3 here (much more readable tbh) Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Richie thought he would need to knock on the front door to get Sonia Kaspbrak’s attention, but all it took was for him to set one foot on her lawn before she was out of the house, lumbering down the porch steps towards him. Her beady eyes were angry behind her glasses.

“What are you doing here?” She asked shortly. Richie gave her what he hoped was a winning smile.

“I just wanted to check on Eddie! Make sure he’s alright, you know. He had a nasty fall. A fall that was not any of our fault, by the way.”

She huffed at him.

“He’s in bed. You’ll have to come back later.”

Richie raised an eyebrow.

“You’re inviting me to your house later today?”

“No.”

“Well, now I’m just confused.”

Her nostrils flared, and Richie didn’t need to say anything more. He was informed that he was a loudmouthed smart aleck (which he already knew, thanks) and he found that despite how much she hated him, it was actually hard to get her to stop talking to him.

“Well, I’ve gotta scram.” He finally said after a couple minutes spent inching closer and closer to the road, cutting her off mid-word. “Not that it hasn’t been lovely, but I’ve got someplace to be. A date, if you will. And Mrs. K, I really do miss Eddie. Tell him hi for me, alright?”

He gave a wave, then started up the street. Eddie was just around the corner, waiting for him.

“Geez, that took a while. Did you two solve world hunger or something?”

“It actually wasn’t me doing most of the talking, thank you very much.”

“Okay, for once in your life.”

Richie reached down and took Eddie’s hand, grinning when it made him flustered, and they started together towards town. The more people they saw the more Richie was unsure if Eddie wanted to keep to holding his hand like this, but any time he tried to pull away his boyfriend’s grip was steadfast, and Richie’s heart soared.

“...and because of your nasal turbinates and uvula, you’ll probably snore when you’re older.” Eddie was saying. He was using a bunch of medical terminology for normal body parts, and as a result Richie barely could follow what he was talking about.

“Uh huh. Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop saying uvula. I don’t think I have one.”

“It’s just the dangly thing in the back of your throat, Richie.”

“...oh.”

Eddie laughed at him, sighing a little.

“Thanks for this. You were right; I was going a crazy in there.”

Richie grinned.

“Say that again. I barely ever get to hear anyone say that I’m right.”

“No.”

“Please? Come on Eds!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Eddie? Richie?”

They turned at the familiar voice, face to face with Mike. He was slowing his bike to a stop, hopping off when he reached them. Richie caught his eyes going to their entwined hands, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“How are you guys? I haven’t heard from either of you.”

“Alright.” Eddie supplied. “Could be better.” He held up his cast, the bulky plaster making his upper arm look even tinier than usual. Mike nodded a little.

“I tried to call your house, but your mom got mad and wouldn’t let me talk to you. Well, that and she didn’t know who I was.”

“...sorry.” Eddie said, but Mike waved him off. “Have you talked to anyone else?”

Mike shook his head.  

“I called Stan this morning, but he wasn’t home. I think he…” He trailed off, glancing across the street. “He’s right there, actually.”

They all turned. Bill, Ben, and Stan were walking along the other side of the street, an overnight bag slung over Stan’s back. Mike waved and Ben noticed, stopping the other two to point and wave back. Richie met Bill’s eyes across the road and Bill’s lips fell into a line, Richie feeling his own expression harden.

“Let’s go talk to them.” Eddie said, starting forward to cross the street. Richie didn’t move, and Eddie glanced back when he felt the resisting tug on his hand.

“I don’t want to.” Richie confessed. “I think Bill’s still mad at me.”

“Well, let’s walk over and find out.”

“Eddie--”

“I’ve spent three days stuck in my room and I want to see my friends.” Eddie insisted, letting Richie’s hand go and stepping into the street. He was halfway across when there was the rev of an engine and a wild yell, Henry Bowers’s black convertible roaring down the street at him. It was on a collision course, slurs from the Bowers gang ringing in Richie's ears as he ran out after Eddie, Mike shouting and grabbing at his shoulders.

“Someone's got him! Careful!”

The car blasted past them, Richie realizing that if Mike hadn't been there to hold him back, he'd be roadkill. And true to Mike’s word someone did have Eddie, a man on the other side of the street having picked him up and out of danger, lifting him like a sack of potatoes and running out of the way. The man had the hood up on his jacket and a pair of long pants on, his face angled down. Then he looked up to grin Richie’s way before darting off, a noticeable limp in his gait. His face was streaked with dirty white face paint.

“Fuck!” Richie jumped back into motion, Mike right at his heels. He couldn’t believe he’d let this happen again, that again the clown had Eddie and again Richie was chasing him. But the other three across the street had already caught onto what was happening and also jumped into motion, giving pursuit down an alley. There was a hand over Eddie’s mouth and nose but he was still squirming and struggling, a kick to the clown’s injured leg causing him to stumble. Then Stan stooped and picked up a metal pipe from a pile of scraps to be taken with the garbage, hitting the clown in the back of the knees. The man crashed to the ground, dropping Eddie as he fell. He scrambled up just as fast but Richie didn’t care about him anymore, kneeling next to Eddie on the asphalt.

“Fuck Eds, are you o--”

“I’m fine.” Eddie said quickly. And maybe he was physically, but his eyes were blown wide with fear, his limbs shaking with adrenaline. “Did… Did I just almost get kidnapped?”

“Something like that, yeah.” Mike said after a moment. To Richie’s surprise, none of them had pursued Pennywise, the entire group crowded around Eddie instead. Eddie held up a hand, and Ben helped him to his feet. He was just looking around, his eyes still a little frantic, flinching when Bill touched his arm.

“Eddie?” Bill asked hesitantly, and Eddie properly looked at him, then stepped closer and Bill pulled him in for a hug.

“Do you want to go back home?” Richie asked. Eddie shook his head against Bill's chest.

“No, my mom'll be mad. I don't want to deal with that right now.” He stepped back and looked a bit calmer, glancing around at all of them. “Thanks for not letting him get me.”

“He tried to get me too.” Stan said. “Yesterday.” He let the metal pipe go and it fell to the ground with a heavy clanging sound. “He came into my house last night, when my parents were out. I hid until he left.”

“Holy shit, Stan.” Richie said. Stan glanced at him, shrugging a little.

“So I spent the night at Bill's, and I'm doing it again.”

That explained his bag, and Eddie looked up at Bill.

“Could I do that too?” He asked.

“Yeah, but w-w-will your mom let you?”

“No, but I don't care.”

Richie found himself grinning at that.

“Big sleepover at Big Bill's?” He proposed, looking around at them all. “It'll be fun. It'll be good to have some fun.”

Both Mike and Ben looked over at Bill, because really it wasn't Richie's decision to invite people to someone else's house, but Richie had known Bill long enough to know that he wouldn't have a problem with it. Sure enough, Bill nodded.

“S-sure. You're all invited.”

Ever polite, both Mike and Ben thanked him before going separate ways to get what they would need to spend the night. When Eddie realized he didn't have any of that stuff either, he began to fret.

“I don't have my meds, or my toothbrush, or a change of clothes… I'm gonna be grounded for at least two weeks the second I go back home, though. I wouldn't be allowed out. But I can't not take my medication, I just…”

“I'll get it for you!” Richie offered quickly. “I know where you keep all that stuff. I'll grab whatever you need.”

Eddie smiled at him, but Bill still looked troubled.

“How can you sleep over without telling her? She'll t-tear up t-the neighborhood looking for you if you don't come home.”

That was true. Eddie sighed.

“I'll just call her when we get to your house and see how well begging really works. If it doesn't she'll just pick me up, I guess.”

They split ways at the road leading out of town, Stan, Bill, and Eddie going to Bill's while Richie walked back to Eddie's house. It was simple to get into Eddie's room, finding a canvas bag and stuffing a clean outfit in. Under other circumstances Richie would have had a lot of fun with being in control of Eddie's next outfit but this wasn't the time, instead simply grabbing something that looked comfortable.

He was making his way down the hall to Eddie's bathroom when the downstairs telephone rang. Richie held his breath as Sonia Kaspbrak got up to answer it.

“Eddie?!” It was apparent by her voice that she hadn't yet found out that her son wasn't tucked away in his room like he was supposed to be. “Where are you?”

Richie winced, continuing on to the bathroom. It sounded like Mrs. K was yelling, actually, full-on yelling, which was something she never, ever did.

“Sweetie. If you're unhappy, we can just put you on some antidepressants.”

A long silence followed, Richie listening closely, wishing he could hear Eddie's side of the conversation. The last thing Eddie needed was more pills; Richie wasn't sure he'd be able to get down the trellis stealthily enough with the amount of rattling all of Eddie's medication would doubtlessly be doing. He opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to find that Eddie needed refills for nearly everything in his daily pill case, cursing under his breath. His mother refilled the box weekly, and it was time for her to do it again. He'd just have to go to Mrs. Kaspbrak’s bathroom, swipe a bunch of stuff, and hope Eddie knew which was which.

He made it to her bathroom easily enough; she was still extremely preoccupied with her phone conversation. Her voice had simmered down to a quiet, sickly-sweet sort of rage that made Richie's stomach turn.

Sonia's bathroom was surprisingly less than spotless, but Richie tried not to think about it, opening the cabinet on the wall next to the sink. Eddie's medications were all on a shelf of their own, all of the boxes and bottles carrying two stickers. One was standard and white, with Eddie's name and dosage instructions on it. The other was a bright red rectangle, with nothing on it but “PLACEBO” written in large white lettering.

He stared at the word, and the word seemed to stare back. It felt like a bizarre conspiracy, but the evidence was there, right in front of him; placebos. Eddie's medications were all fake. Even a box with an extra asthma inhaler had a placebo sticker on it. Richie searched through all of the bottles, only finding one without the sticker, and it turned out to be the painkillers for his arm. He stuffed those in his canvas bag, feeling conflicted as he looked over the rest of the pills. Eddie didn't need them, so Richie didn't want to take them. But still, Eddie deserved to know the truth. Richie grabbed the fake inhaler and a box with some of those red and white pills that he recognized and put those in the bag too, wrapping everything with a sweatshirt to keep the rattling to a minimum. Then he closed the cabinet, walking back out into the hallway.

Mrs. K was still on phone, but the conversation seemed to be wrapping up.

“Fine. But Mrs. Denbrough needs to be aware that I will be there at six to pick you up tomorrow morning, and that's when you'd better be ready to go.”

Then she hung up, and Richie hurried back to Eddie's room. He was back outside in no time, the overnight bag over his shoulder, dashing off to Bill's. Mike and Ben were already there by the time he arrived, and everyone was smiling.

“Mike brought s-some stuff, we're going t-t-to make dinner.” Bill explained as he let Richie inside, leading him to the kitchen.

“Oh, so we're burning your house down. Fun!” Richie called out a greeting and waved at everyone, Eddie hurrying over and taking the bag from his hands to search through what he'd brought. He noticed the lack of his regular medicine and looked up in silent question, confused. Richie took his arm to pull him aside, speaking quietly as Bill went to rejoin Stan, Mike, and Ben by the sink.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Is it about something bad?” Eddie asked, equally quietly. Richie chewed his lip for a moment, thinking.

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Then can it wait?”

Richie was all too familiar with how Eddie must be feeling, desperate looking for any sort of escapism, and nodded, kissing his forehead.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Stan let out a loud, giggly sort of laugh, the both of them looking over to see him armed with the kitchen soap while Mike had his thumb over the faucet, aiming the water flow and getting Stan's shirt soaking wet. Both Ben and Bill had jumped back, out of the splash zone.

“No!” Eddie exclaimed, hurrying forward, letting his hand trail down Richie's arm as he stalked towards the commotion. “Stop it! I told you guys to wash your hands!”

Richie laughed, going over to throw Eddie's bag on Bill's couch. Bill approached him, a cautious look in his eyes.

“Hey, Richie…” He looked at him for a moment before his gaze went straight to his feet. “I shouldn’t h-have pushed you. Or p-p-punched you. I’m sorry.”

Richie considered him for a moment, and in his silence Bill glanced back up. To his credit, he really did seem very sorry about it, chewing on his bottom lip, his eyebrows drawing together. Richie sighed.

“I’ve gotta say, I'm not really sorry for pushing you, Bill. But that’s only because it didn’t seem to do anything. You’re like a brick wall.” He chuckled, Bill giving him the slightest of smiles back. “But I did say some stuff, some stuff that I really didn’t mean, and… I’m sorry too.”

Bill pressed his lips together into a thin line, swallowing harshly. He looked upset, as though upon getting the forgiveness he’d sought after, he felt he didn’t deserve it. Richie stuck out a hand.

“Are we good?” He asked, making eye contact with Bill and holding his gaze. Bill stared at him for just a moment more before stepping forwards, disregarding the proposed handshake completely and pulling Richie in for a crushing hug. Richie couldn’t help his laugh of surprise, wrapping his arms around Bill too and giving him a squeeze.

“You guys are being really cute over there and everything but we’ve got a situation!” Mike called to them, and they both looked over. “Situation” was one way of putting it; Eddie was chasing both Stan and Ben around the kitchen with a rather aggressive-looking egg beater. Richie went weak-kneed in laughter, Bill disentangling himself in an attempt to do some damage control.

Eventually, after a dry shirt for Stan and a lot of direction from Mike, dinner was underway. There was meat in a pan, pasta in a pot, and a mound of steamed broccoli when they were finished, Richie helping Ben set the table. To Richie’s pleasant surprise, the food they managed to make together was actually really good. But Mike had orchestrated the whole thing, and as he currently held the record for the maker of the best soup Richie had ever had, he figured he shouldn’t have expected any less.

They all inhaled their food, Richie finishing up a third helping as Stan, Mike, Bill, and Ben all carried their dishes back into the kitchen. Eddie stood up to do the same, but Richie stopped him.

“You can stay the night, then? How did the phone call with your mom go? What did you tell her?”

“I…” Eddie shrugged. “The truth, kind of. I told her that keeping me inside was making me unhappy. It almost backfired, but I managed to keep her from getting me on antidepressants, so that’s good. I told her that a sleepover would make me happy, then I asked her if she wanted me to be happy or not. I feel a little bad about guilt-tripping her, but it worked.”

Richie considered that, scratching his chin.

“Do you think that’ll work when she finds out about us?”

“...when?” Eddie echoed after a moment. Richie blinked at him.

“Would you rather it be ‘if’?” He asked back, and Eddie sighed.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry Richie, I just… I did come out to her once, you know. She pretends it never happened. Asks me about girls all the time. Besides,” he gave Richie a little grin. “I think finding out that I picked you out of the entire male population might give her a heart attack.”

Richie nodded a little. They didn’t need to talk about this right now, he supposed, winking at Eddie instead as he got to his feet.

“I tend to have that effect on people.”

To his great surprise, Eddie reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I know. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Richie was powerless against the blush rising up his face.

“That just isn’t fair.” He protested weakly, turning to the door to see a red-faced Ben Hanscom standing in the doorway.

“Hi there, Ben. Benny. Bean Burrito.” Richie was rambling a little, caught off guard, and Eddie looked close to mortified.

“...hi.” Ben finally said, ducking past them to get to the living room. They were silent for a moment.

“Well. I guess he knows now.” Eddie remarked, and Richie laughed.

“Wanna just tell everyone tonight?” He asked. The idea excited him, his spontaneity seeming to surprise Eddie a little. “Bev already knows. And Stan knows I like you.”

“Oh. I guess so, then. Sure.”

Richie beamed, leading the way back into the kitchen. Mike was in the middle of washing their dinner dishes but Richie wrestled the sponge from his hands, insisting that he had done enough already and to let himself and Bill do the washing up instead. That nearly escalated into a water fight as well, and by the time everything was cleaned, dried, and put away it was well past eight o’clock. They all sat around in the living room, waiting for it to hit 9:00.

“Your parents really don’t mind all of us being here?” Ben asked. He looked concerned, but Bill shook his head.

“My dad said it’s okay as long as we clean up after ourselves, and my m-m-mom… She’s just in bed a lot these days. W-we probably won’t even see her.”

The second hand on the wall clock ticked, turning 8:59 to 9:00, and instantly the telephone rang. All six of them jumped up, sliding on sock-clad feet to make it to the phone. Richie picked up the receiver, leaning against the doorframe. He stood on one foot, crossing the other so only his toes touched the floor, adjusting his coke-bottle glasses unnecessarily. He gave Eddie a smile.

“Hello? Zachary Denbrough here. Oh, well good evening Mrs. Kaspbrak.” Of all of the terrible voices Richie made and the horrible impressions he couldn't really do, he had one good one: Bill’s dad, Mr. Denbrough. Or rather, Mr. Denbrough over the phone; they’d never had to try it out in person. Sleepovers had a slim-to-none chance of being approved if Mrs. K knew Richie was going to be there, so when she called at nine p.m. sharp to ask who it was that the Denbroughs were letting sleep in the same house as her son, they lied. Richie told her that he wasn’t there, sympathizing about how terrible of a child he was. He quite enjoyed it, actually. It was fun.

“Hello.” Mrs. Kaspbrak responded haughtily. “Is Eddie there?”

Richie wiggled his eyebrows, looking pointedly at Eddie.

“Yes, Eddie made it here. He’s been here a couple of hours now, with Bill and Stan, and a lovely friend the boys made while at the library named Benjamin.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Her voice got dangerous, and Richie winced. He should have kept it to the usual crowd. All eyes turned to look at Ben, who’d begun to blush.

“Oh, Ben? I’ve heard all sorts of things about him from my boy.” Nervous, Richie was getting little heavy on the nasally tone that was faint, but ever present in Mr. Denbrough’s voice. Stan pointed to his nose, Richie nodding in understanding as he adjusted. “A real stand-up citizen, trust me. He got top marks in the English class they had together.”

Ben’s face was definitely red now, Bill putting a hand on his shoulder with a grin.

“...fine. I’ll have to ask him about that. What about Richard Tozier?”

“Richard? Why would that hooligan be in my house?” Richie’s face took up an expression of pure horror. Mrs. K couldn’t see his face but Eddie sure could, and Richie wanted to make him laugh. It worked; Eddie giggled behind his hands. “No, no. Ever since you told me what color that vomit was on your flowers, I’ve made sure he stayed clear of my front lawn.”

Mike looked both confused and vaguely horrified, Stan offering an expression that was supposed to mean “we’ll tell you later”. It was hard to tell if Mike understood the sentiment.

“Good.” Sonia sounded rather miffed. “I’d rather Eddie keep away from him.”

“Yes, well, we can only control so much of our children’s lives, you know.” Richie’s voice was attempting to imply years of wisdom beyond his age, but with a mental age of seven, he didn’t end up sounding all that astute. “One more year of that rowdy child, then our own will be off to college and won’t have to deal with him anymore.”

Bill began to tap his foot. It was unusual for Mrs. K’s calls to take this long. She seemed in a chatty mood though, continuing to talk.

“College, yes… Where is William going to school?”

“Bill? Where he’s going to school? Oh, uh… The University of…” Richie caught Bill’s eye, desperate, but Bill just shrugged back helplessly. “University of North Edward College. He’s studying…” Another painfully long pause; Richie’s mind was blank. His next words came out in a rushed, uncharacteristic squeak. “Squirrels. Must be off now!”

Richie hung up, and the group collapsed into laughter.

“University of North Edward College?” Stan asked, incredulous. “What does that even mean? And squirrels, really? Literally anything you could have said would have been better than squirrels.”

“I couldn’t help it!” Richie exclaimed. “My default response to ‘what are you majoring in’ is ‘Eddie’s Mom’, but I couldn’t say that to her!” He stepped forward, slinging an arm around Stan’s shoulders. “But I saw your face, and was struck with a squirrely inspiration.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Tozier.”

“Would love to, but I’m not quite flexible enough.”

Stan made a face, shoving Richie off him. The group made to go to Bill's room, but Richie hung back by the phone.

“Coming?” Bill asked. Richie waved a hand.

“There's one more call I want to make. I'll catch up with you.”

He knew it was cryptic but nobody pressed him for an explanation so he didn't give one, dialing Beverly's number. She deserved to be here too.

“Hello?”

“Bev?”

“Yeah, it's me.” She paused. “Which of my wonderful teenage boys am I talking to?”

Richie laughed. “You wound me. It's Richie! We're having a sleepover at Bill's, and I wanted to know if you can make it.”

She was silent for a good while.

“Am I invited?” She asked after a moment.

“You'd have to climb in through Bill's bedroom window, if that's what you mean.” He answered. “But we'd all love to see you.”

She was quiet again.

“I'd have to wait for my dad to go to sleep, and he's not even home from work yet.”

“It's no rush. You don't even have to show up if you don't think you can. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks Richie.” There was a smile in her voice. “I'll see what I can do. But don't wait up for me, okay?”

“Whatever you say, buttercup.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed, saying his farewells and hanging up. He got up the stairs just in time to hear Eddie's watch going off for his evening medications, Eddie excusing himself with his overnight bag over his shoulder and nearly running into Richie outside Bill's bedroom door. He thrust the bag into Richie's hands.

“Tell me what's going on.” He requested. Richie twisted his fingers up in the bag’s straps, suddenly nervous.

“Should we go downstairs for this? Or… You should at least sit down.”

“Just tell me! You're freaking me out.” Eddie exclaimed. Richie reached around him and closed Bill’s bedroom door, just in case. Then he pulled the bottle of painkillers out and handed them over. He had to take a deep breath before he could speak.

“This is the only medication in your mom's cabinet that's actually helping you.”

Eddie frowned at him.

“Richie, what are you talking about? These are temporary; they're my painkillers for this thing.” He lifted his cast arm up. Richie nodded.

“I know. Everything else in your mom's medicine cabinet looks like this.”

He pulled the other bottle out, placing it in Eddie's hands. The placebo sticker was facing up, bright red, and Eddie stared at it.

“Placebo…?”

“It means the drugs are fakes. They don't do anything.”

“I know what placebo means!” Eddie snapped, and while Richie knew the harshness wasn't truly directed towards him, it still made him take a step back. “Just… You said all of them were like this? All of them? Even--?”

Richie pulled the inhaler box out too, and Eddie snatched it from his hands. He opened it and looked at the inhaler inside, identical to the one he always carried with him.

“How?” He asked, and Richie didn't know what to say. “How did--since--when did she… I don’t --”

“Eddie! Eds. Breathe.” Eddie was taking gasping inhales and heavy exhales with every word, his chest heaving. He gripped tightly to the front of Richie's shirt, bringing the inhaler to his mouth. It took a little but Eddie brought his breathing under control again, Richie rubbing circles on his back.

“You okay, Spaghetti Man?”

“It worked.” Eddie said after a moment. He held the inhaler a bit tighter. “If it's a fake, how come it worked?”

“Isn't that the point of a placebo, though?” Richie pointed out. “To make you think it worked? Even if you don't have asthma, right?”

“What are you talking about? Asthma attacks--”

“That's the thing though, Eds.” Richie cut him off, and Eddie looked a little angry. “What just happened to you, and all the other asthma attacks you've had in the past… I get those too. They're called panic attacks.”

“Of course I'm fucking panicking! How could I not be fucking panicking?”

Richie pulled him in for a hug, letting his chin rest on the top of Eddie's head for a moment.

“I can't not take my medication, Richie.” Eddie mumbled softly into his shirt. “I just can't.”

“If you really need me to, I'll go back to your house and get everything else.” Richie said. He wasn't sure how he would slip past Mrs. Kaspbrak, but he would try. “But for now, just take these,” he pressed the painkillers into Eddie's hand, “and these, if that makes you feel better,” he traded out the inhaler for the red and white fakes, “and just try not to think about it. Okay?”

“...okay.” Eddie finally said. He turned the bottle of placebos over in his hand. He let his eyes fall closed for a moment. “Thanks for telling me, Richie. I'm… I'm glad I know, at least.”

Richie returned with a smile that he hoped was comforting, surprised to find that he was relieved that Eddie believed him. He got Eddie a glass of water, noticing with pride that he only swallowed down one pill, putting an arm around his shoulders in front of Bill's closed door.

“Alright, Eds Spagheds. You ready to go back in there?”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don't be dumb, Richie.”

Richie could tell that at least some of the brazen attitude was an act so he stepped into Bill's room grandly, throwing open the door and striding in with his hands on his hips, garnering everyone’s attention while Eddie slipped inside quietly.

“William Billiam! I require soft sleeping pants!”

“Okay, but I'm getting you a s-s-shirt, too.” Bill said dryly, but he was smiling. “And you're going to w-wear it.”

Richie made a show of complaining, lamenting that “what is a shirt, if not a cotton prison”, but thanked Bill when the sleepwear was handed over and changed quickly. They arranged themselves comfortably around Bill's room, conversation beginning easily. They talked about family first, mostly because Ben wanted to know if Richie actually had a sister, or if his mother was actually dead. The answer to both of those was no, but it was still pretty funny.

Whenever a natural lull fell around them Richie wanted to spill the beans about himself and Eddie, because Eddie just looked much too cute in an oversized hoodie and tucked under his arm. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how. A couple times he considered pulling the “guess who has two thumbs and is dating the cutest person in the world” line, but he didn’t just want to spring the announcement on Eddie as well as everyone else, considering all he’d been through today. He wanted the conversation to naturally just flow that way, but he was having a hard time trying to steer it. Finally, he managed to stick his foot in.

“Hey Ben, do you remember that question I asked you about Beverly the other day?”

Ben blushed red, but before he could say anything a muffled voice came from somewhere outside Bill’s room.

“Are you guys talking about me?”

There was a sharp tap on Bill’s bedroom window and Stan jumped, letting out a yell in surprise.

“Bev!” Richie exclaimed in excitement, Bill getting quickly to his feet to let her in. He opened the window and Beverly tumbled in from the tree outside Bill’s window, laughing a little. She brushed a couple of leaves off her clothes, grinning, everyone except Richie looking stunned to see her.

“Y-y-you, w-w-w-w-w-we… What?” Bill stammered out, and Beverly giggled.

“I called her! I invited her.” Richie said, Beverly sending him a wink. “It wouldn’t be a group sleepover without her.”

“Hi.” Beverly finally said, waving, getting waves back as she sat herself down happily next to Ben. Everyone was still staring at her, and she laughed.

“What Bill, never had a girl in your room before?”

Richie could've sworn all of them blushed. Maybe except Ben, but that was because he hadn't yet stopped blushing from Richie's question earlier.

“I'm glad you managed to escape.” Richie said. Beverly looked a little guilty, nodding.

“My dad said he wanted a drink when he got home, so I crushed up a sleeping pill in his beer.” She confessed. They all gaped at her.

“Isn't mixing alcohol and soporific drugs like… Super fucking dangerous?” Eddie asked hesitantly. “Couldn't that kill him, or something?”

Beverly looked hilariously unconcerned.

“Sleeping pills and stuff have never really had that much of an effect on him.” She said with a shrug, Richie wondering how it was she knew that. “I'm sure he'll be fine. What are you guys up to?”

“We ate dinner, and now we're just hanging out.” Mike said with a shrug. “Are you hungry, Beverly? There's food left.”

Beverly considered it for a moment before nodding.

“Sure, I could eat. Thanks.”

Mike got to his feet with Bill and Ben following behind, Bill looking like he was trying hard to be a good host, Ben looking a bit disappointed that he hadn't thought of offering the food first. Beverly reached over, ruffling Stan's hair.

“You okay?” She asked him. He shrugged.

“Been better.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You look weird.”

He snorted. “Thanks.”

“Eddie looks weird too.” Beverly said, turning her attention to Eddie now. “Did something happen today?”

“A lot has happened today.” Eddie said with a nod. “The clown...”

“You guys saw him?” Beverly asked. “When? What happened?”

“We should talk about it with everyone.” Stan said. “But… I saw him yesterday, and all of us saw him today.”

“I did a little more than see him.” Eddie mumbled, and Richie suddenly felt guilty. He'd been completely useless, powerless to stop any of the terrible things Eddie had gone through in the past week. He wanted to be better. He needed to be better than that.

“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. Eddie looked up at him.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?”

“I haven't been able to do anything.” He explained. “Not in the Neibolt house, not earlier today… Hell, it was even my idea to go outside today, if I hadn't suggested it then--”

“If you hadn't suggested it, then I'd be in bed getting pills shoved down my throat by my psychotic mother.” Eddie interrupted. Richie frowned.

“Yeah, but--”

“No.” Eddie cut him off, taking both of Richie's hands with his own. “I would have been completely miserable, but instead I'm here with all of my friends. I have you to thank for that. You’re the one that’s keeping me from completely losing my fucking mind.”

Richie smiled a little, in spite of himself.

“God damn Eddie, could you please just let me blame myself for this?”

“Not a chance, Tozier.” Eddie had a small smile playing on his lips too and Richie decided fuck it, he didn’t care about an audience, leaning in and kissing him. Bev and Stan already knew anyways, to some extent. He realized though, once Eddie's lips touched his, that it wouldn't have mattered much if they knew already or not, because this was so, incredibly worth it.

There was the heavy thunk of glass hitting carpet behind them and Richie and Eddie both turned to see the rest of the group in the doorway, Bill standing front and center and letting the water from the cup he'd just dropped seep into his socks and the carpet below. He looked stunned.

“W-w-w-w-w-wh…?”

“Okay Bill, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to do a little better than that.” Richie told him, because he was suddenly nervous about what Bill might say, or do. He tried to remember Stan’s words about how worrying was stupid, and the rational part of him knew that Stan was right, but that rational part was very, very small, especially in the face of something as terrifying as possibly losing a best friend.

“I-I-I-I-I…” Bill stammered a bit more. “...what?”

That wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I like Eddie.” Richie explained. Eddie hit him in the arm. “A lot.” He tacked on.

Eddie hit him again.

“What?” Richie asked indignantly.

“I don’t know!” Eddie replied. “Just…” He gestured at Bill.

“He might be broken.” Richie said gravely, just to have Eddie hit him again.

“So Eddie is the one you asked me about?” Mike cut in. He slipped in the room past Bill, holding Beverly’s plate of food. He handed it to her, Ben entering after him and giving her silverware. “I mean, I kind of figured.”

“You asked about me?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“I… Well--”

“He told me he thought he might be in love with someone, and asked me what he should do about it.” Mike interjected, Richie turning on him.

“Hey!” He protested. “That was a private conversation!”

“No it wasn’t.” Stan said. He was inspecting his fingernails rather closely. “I heard the whole thing.”

“Both of you suck.” Richie said, crossing his arms.

“L-l-love?” Bill croaked out.

“We did break him.” Eddie muttered.

“Come on you two, tell us everything!” Beverly requested, and Richie balked. When he’d said he wanted to tell everyone, he was thinking of it in more of an announcement fashion: “Everyone, could I have your attention please. I am super gay for Eddie Kaspbrak. This has been a PSA.” He wasn’t prepared for any storytelling. But, he figured, the “show” part of “show and tell” was his fault, and he took a deep breath.

“Well, I talked to Mike. Then I talked to Ben, because he’s such a romantic.”

“I am?” Ben asked.

“And the day I told Stan was the day I was sure about it.” God, why was he blushing so much? “So I figured I would just wait for the right time, or something. But then we went to Neibolt and got attacked by Giggles McFuckface and I kinda figured that any time that we weren’t dead was the right time. So I told him that I liked him, or whatever.”

“Eddie, please tell me he said more than ‘I like you, or whatever’.” Stan said seriously. “You’re worth more than that.”

“He did.” Eddie said quickly. “It… It was really nice, actually.”

“Yeah, because you kissed me. Damn near knocked the wind out of me, you know.” Richie replaced his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, grinning. “And then I kissed you, and you said it was the best kiss you ever had.”

“Sounds fake, but okay.” Stan muttered dryly.

“No! Tell ‘em, Eds.” Richie nudged him, delighting how red Eddie’s face had become.

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie grumbled back.

“Stop embarrassing him.” Beverly protested, because Eddie was blushing harder the longer Richie talked. “You’re just as bad as he is, if not worse.”

“Hey, I just want everyone to know how great of a kisser I am, now that I have evidence to prove it. We've spent the past few days in Eddie's bedroom doing--”

“You cried when he told you he loved you.” Beverly said, crossing her arms in triumph. Richie’s mouth fell open.

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that!”

“Beverly, you knew?” Ben asked. “When did you guys talk to each other?”

“Midnight ragers.” Richie said quickly. “She’s been eating all of my Cheetos.”

“...is that a euphemism or something?” Mike asked, as Bill finally seemed to get over himself, coming into the room again and sitting on the floor.

“I’m happy for you guys.” He said earnestly, and when Richie glanced over he saw Eddie beaming.

“Thanks.”

“So, now that all of my secrets have been spilled, what do we want to talk about?” Richie asked with a sigh. “Anyone want to hear about the time I ate hot glue in fifth grade? I was going to take that secret to the grave with me, but I’m coming to realize there’s no point in trying.”

“I want to hear about what happened today.” Beverly said. “About Pennywise, and all that.”

Ben nodded in agreement.

“Something happened to you, right Stan?” He asked. Stan nodded a little, launching into the tale. The retelling of the events made him visibly uncomfortable, curling in on himself as he spoke. Mike put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“And then he left me a balloon, which was just incredibly thoughtful.” Stan finished, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I called Bill, and he came to pick me up.”

“I would hate to think I scared all the little boys away?” Beverly asked, repeating what Stan told them Pennywise had said. “What does that mean?”

Stan shrugged.

“He t-t-tried to take Eddie too.” Bill said. “Eddie was crossing t-the street when B-B-Bowers came at him with his c-car. Pennywise grabbed him out of the w-way, but t-then tried to run off. W-w-we stopped him, but…”

“He tried to do this in broad daylight?”

“Well, who wouldn’t try to steal Eddie?” Richie asked. “I mean, look at him!”

What Richie didn’t expect was for the entire group to actually look over at Eddie, who suddenly seemed very self conscious in his striped athletic socks, grey shorts, and big green hoodie.

“Yeah.” Mike said after a moment. “He’s small.”

“Not what I meant.”

“No, it makes sense. He's small.” Ben agreed. “If you're going to kidnap someone in the middle of the day, with witnesses and stuff, they have to be easy to carry.”

“Well, I'm not easy to carry.” Eddie said. “I kicked him in the leg.”

Beverly held her hand up for a high five, and Eddie took it.

“Okay, but why?” Bill asked. “If he w-wants to make s-s-someone disappear, why not someone easier? Someone y-younger, or something?”

Richie thought back, still distracted by what the clown had said while going through Stan’s house. He couldn’t take Ben, he couldn’t take Mike, and he couldn’t take Bill because Bill was the one he needed.

“He’s setting you a trap, Bill.”

“He w-w-wants to kidnap one of you to… To what? To g-get to me?”

“It would work.” Mike pointed out.

“But he already h-has my brother.”

“But he thinks he scared us away.” Beverly finished, nodding a little. Richie felt slightly sick.

“Why me?” Bill asked. It was quiet for a long moment, then Stan spoke.

“Because you’re the only one looking for him. You’re the only one, maybe ever, and you keep getting closer. Hell, Bill, you’ve been inside his house four times. And he doesn’t like it.”

“S-so… He’s trying to kill me?”

Mike sat back in Bill’s desk chair with a sigh.

“It wouldn’t exactly be out of character.”

[honestlypeter]

Confessions |Spider-Man: Hoco|

Summary: Peter has a crush on fem!reader, and Ned is quick to think she likes him back. Peter, however, doesn’t believe him.

A/N: Aight, so this is my first fic for this fandom. Let’s do this. Quick thing, Flash is super dicky in this one, so be prepared. Like, not creepy, just hella dick-ish.

Word Count: 2633

Warnings: cursing, that’s it, and i barely proof read this

WEDNESDAY

         Peter, Ned, and Michelle were having an intense conversation about who would win: a shark or a personified tornado. Okay, maybe just Peter and Ned, because Michelle was reading her book; however, she would add in little comments every now and again. Usually, the comments would consist of insults, but Peter and Ned didn’t really mind, for she was their friend and knew it didn’t mean a thing.

“Look, all I’m saying is that a shark can’t go on land! Your argument is bogus!” Peter told his best friend, Ned.

Ned shook his head, ready to tell Peter that the shark would obviously win, because it had razor sharp teeth.

“The tornado is personified, meaning it can get hurt! It has feelings! And the small tornado would never stand a chance against a beast of the ocean!” Ned exclaimed, getting more frustrated as this conversation went on.

“Wait- we never said how big the tornado was. So you admit that if it was a big tornado-”

“Peter, shut up,” Ned said, cutting the other boy off. Peter rolled his eyes, about to continue, when Ned swatted his arm.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Okay, don’t freak out, but (Y/N) (L/N) is coming over here, and you need to act cool,” Ned explained, his voice suddenly a lot lower.

“Dude, no way, why would she- holy shit, you’re right.”

Peter’s chest tightened as he saw the most beautiful girl in school walking towards him and his friends. As she got closer, Peter started breathing heavier, his mind swarming through all the embarrassing outcomes that could come from the interaction he was about to have. When she finally got to their table, which to Peter took years because it felt like he was watching her in slow motion, she sat down.

“Hey, you guys!” (Y/N) said, all eyes on her, even Michelle’s.

“H-Hey, (Y/N),” Peter squeaked, eyes widening. Puberty was going to be the death of him. The other two said hi, Ned giving her a small smile, and Michelle returning back to her book.

“Soooo, whatcha guys talkin’ about?” (Y/N) asked, seeming genuinely interested in their conversation,”You seemed to be pretty heated.”

“Oh uh- n-nothing-”

“Sharks and torandos! Like, who would win in a fight. A personified tornado or a shark.” Ned informed (Y/N). It was Peter’s turn to whack Ned’s arm for confessing to talking about such a stupid topic.

“Oh! That’s cool. Which team are you guys on?” wondered (Y/N).

“I’m on Team Shark,” Ned said confidently, proud of his answer.

“I, uh,” stuttered Peter,”I’m on Team Tornado.”

“Hm, interesting,” (Y/N) said, tapping her manicured nails on the table.

“Why is that interesting?” Peter asked, surprising himself, Ned, and Michelle, with how calm his voice came out.

“Because, well, how do I put this lightly? You’re both wrong.”

Peter and Ned glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes, both unsure of where the conversation was about to go.

“I mean, c’mon. Clearly, sharks and tornados would team up to destroy humanity. Haven’t you seen the cinematic masterpiece known as Sharknado? Sharks would be pissed that humans were in the ocean- because let’s be real here, we’re the ones infesting the waters, not them! They’re the ones that live- sorry, that’s a whole other conversation. Uhm, where was I?” Peter was about to help (Y/N) find her train of thought, but she got there before he could,”Oh! So, sharks would be pissed, and tornados are just ready to fight. Basically, tornados are the muscle, sharks are the brains, and together, they’re unstoppable.”

Ned’s jaw was dropped, Peter’s jaw was dropped, and Michelle simply looked impressed.

“But uh, I came here for a reason other than to school you on sharks and tornados. Liz is having a party on Saturday, and I wanted to invite you guys,” (Y/N) said, smiling brightly. But when they all just stared at her, the smile faltered and she quickly went to her own rescue.

“But you totally don’t have to come if you don’t want to! I mean, obviously, but-”

“(Y/N), we’re going.”

(Y/N) looked at Michelle, who had spoken.

“Okay! Awesome! Uhm- let me just give you guys my phone number and you can text me and I’ll give you the details…does anyone have paper and a pencil?”

Ned and Peter scrambled to search for paper and pencil, but Michelle already had the items out, so she pushed them towards (Y/N). Quickly, (Y/N) wrote down her number, before getting up and telling them all goodbye.

Peter and Ned stared at the ten digits in front of them.

“What the fu-”

Before the sentence was finished, the bell rang, indicating that lunch was over and to head back to class.

THURSDAY

“Dude, I swear (Y/N) has been looking at you ever since she invited us to the party,” Ned said excitedly. Peter glanced up at at the girl who sat across the lunchroom. She was, in fact, looking over at their table.

“Wha- no. She’s probably looking at you,” Peter told his friend, a frown on his face. There was no way the iconic (Y/N) friggin’ (L/N) was looking at the not-so iconic Peter Parker.

“Have you seen me? I’m like-”

“Hey!” Peter interjected before his friend could deprecate himself,”you are a handsome guy, Ned! You have just as much of a chance with (Y/N) as any other person.”

Ned smiled at his friend, feeling better about his appearance. Peter was right, Ned was quite a catch.

“Thanks, man! But honestly dude, she’s totally into you.”

FRIDAY

         Peter sat at his desk, working on his advanced geometry homework. Peter rarely hated being in advanced classes, but when it’s an advanced class that’s meant for the grade higher than your’s as well- it’s hell. To Peter, it felt like everyone was judging him, mainly because Flash always picked on him, which lead to him having a nerd reputation. So yeah, basically everyone was judging him, except for one person: You.

         The only reason why Peter didn’t bash his head open with his geometry textbook was because you were in his class. You were the perfect person. Kind, smart, funny, stunning, etc., etc. Every single adjective to describe you was always positive. Peter didn’t think he had  seen a single day where you weren’t smiling at people, and brightening their days.

         When Flash Thompson first started calling Peter “Penis Parker” you called him “Flaccid Thompson,” which shut him up as quickly as he had opened his mouth. From that point on, Peter admired you, which quickly became a crush.

         Finally giving up on his never ending geometry homework, Peter decided it was time to text you.

To: (Y/N)

From: Peter

hey (y/n)! It’s peter! i was just wondering if i could get the deets for the party?? haha!

Peter, for some reason, decided it would be best to send the text and then reread the message. Dear God, he thought, there’s too much punctuation! Who types out that many exclamation points? OH MY GOD! Did I actually use the words ‘deets?’ Kill me, just kill me. Before Peter could plan out how to run away from home, you texted back.

To: Peter

From: (Y/N)

Aye! Yeah, I got the deets. B)

Hold on.

Okay! So it’ll be at 1205 Lakeview Blv., and it’ll start at like 8, or 8:15-ish? Don’t know when it’ll end, but sometime late I’m sure. Ned already texted me and told me he’s going, but have you heard from Michelle?

To: (Y/N)

From: Peter

i’ll text her real quick.

Peter sent a quick message to Michelle, reminding her about the party before getting back to (Y/N).

To: (Y/N)

From: Peter

just texted her! thx for the info. i’ll be there!!

Peter needed to chill on the exclamation points.

To: Peter

From: (Y/N)

Ayyye, just got her message. I’m so excited to see you guys there! And hey, if Flash tries to start any trouble, let me know. He’ll catch these hands (ง •̀_•́)ง

Peter laughed, wondering how such an amazing girl could be texting him.

To: Peter

From: (Y/N)

Hey, Pete, I gotta go. Mom’s making me do the dishes. Sigh. But I’ll see you tomorrow :)

Peter groaned, not wanting to wait until tomorrow to see (Y/N). But he had to, and to pass the time, he figured he might as well work on more geometry.

SATURDAY

“Alright, be safe, have fun, don’t do anything too wild,” Aunt May reminded Peter and Ned, a smile on her face. Peter hadn’t always been the most social teenager, so seeing him go off to a high school party was exciting for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we go now, Aunt May?” Peter whined, becoming more and more impatient by the minute.

         Aunt May sighed before unlocking the car doors. Both Ned and Peter scrambled out of the vehicle (not before saying goodbye, of course) and hurried up towards the relatively large house on the hill.

           Peter was so excited that he was actually shaking. And apparently it was noticeable enough for Ned to tell him to chill out. When they walked into the house, the first thing Peter noticed was the lack of people, but quickly realized it was because everyone was in a group in the living room.

“Hey look,” Flash yelled out,”It’s Penis Parker!”

Everyone looked at Peter and Ned, which caused them to wave awkwardly.

“Why don’t you join us? We’re playing truth or dare,” Flash told the two boys, a cocky smile on his face.

The boys nodded, considering the fact that everyone else was doing it. Peter and Ned sat in the back of the crowd, but Flash quickly told everyone to move that way Peter was nearly in the middle.

“Since the doofuses were late, let’s have one of them go first,” Flash suggested. Peter’s heart dropped, knowing that Flash would probably use this as a moment to mess with him.

“So, Parker, truth or dare?” Flash asked.

“T-truth.”

“Okay, tell me now, and be honest. Is it true that you having a crush on (Y/N)?”

Peter’s face flushed red, as he stammered to redeem himself. But, Flash was relentless and continue to hammer Peter. That was, until, (Y/N) stepped in.

“Fuck off, Flash,”she said, a scowl on her face,”If he doesn’t want to answer the question, then I’ll take his place.”

Flash looked over to (Y/N), rolling his eyes,”Fine, fine, but you ruin all the fun. So, since Penis picked truth, you get truth.”

“Fair enough,” (Y/N) mumbled, a bit relieved that it wasn’t dare. She had no clue what Flash would make her do. The relief was short lived once Flash asked his question.

“(Y/N), I heard from Alec something very interesting, and I’m dying to know if it’s true.”

(Y/N) stiffened at the name of her ex-boyfriend Alex Westfield. Apparently, they ended on very bad terms.

“Get on with it,” (Y/N) told the boy.

“Alec told me that the reason you dumped him is because you prefer softball to baseball. Is it true?”

Peter was confused, what did sports have to do with anything? (Y/N), however, seemed to know what Flash was getting at.

“Shut the fuck up, Flaccid,” (Y/N) warned, clenching her hands so tight her knuckles were becoming a lighter shade.

“No, I’m not finished yet, (L/N),” Flash spat. Peter was still extremely confused, and as the tension grew, the more silent the room became.

“As I was saying,” continued Flash,”(Y/N) over here really enjoys swinging for the other team.”

The other team- oh shit.

“(Y/N) LIKES PUSSY!” someone from a corner of the room shouted. A few giggles erupted in the room, but it stayed mostly silent.

“Bingo!” Flash said, clapping his hands together, seeming thoroughly impressed with himself. Peter looked over at (Y/N), her head was hanging low, and she was visibly shaking. Slowly, she got up, fixed her dress, and walked out the front door. Peter quickly got to his feet, and chased after her, leaving the awkward room.

“(Y/N)!” Peter called out, chasing her down the road. For a girl in wedges, she sure could run fast.

“(Y/N)!” Peter shouted, finally catching up to her as she slowed down,”Are you…are you okay?”

She sat down on the sidewalk, feet out in front of her. Peter sat next to her and put an arm around her. She leaned into his chest, and quietly cried.

“I-I’m sorry Peter,” she whispered in between sobs.

“For what? You didn’t do anything,” he reassured her.

“F-For being l-like this,” (Y/N) explained, sitting up. She hated feeling like a mess, it reminded her how weak she could be. It felt, to (Y/N), that she always had to be the strong one in her family. Keeping face for her siblings during her parents divorce was one of the hardest things she had even done. (Y/N), not wanting to further embarrass herself, pulled out her phone and went on to the camera app.

“Jesus, I look like a raccoon,” (Y/N) sighed, trying to fix the mascara and eyeliner that ran down her face. When she was satisfied with her work, (Y/N) stood up again.

“I don’t live too far from here,” the girl told Peter, who was silently staring up at her,”Walk me home?”

Peter nodded, and got to his feet. He and (Y/N) walked, neither saying a word until they got to her house.

“So, are you wondering if it’s true?” (Y/N) asked as the pair approached her front door.

Peter tried to brush off what she was asking,”Uhm, wondering if…what’s true?”

(Y/N) gave her newfound friend a cold stare, basically telling him to cut the bullshit.

“…Yeah, I am,” Peter confirmed, feeling ashamed in himself. That wasn’t his business.

“Well, it’s true. I do “like pussy” as that one fucker said.”

“You sure do curse a lot, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes,”I only curse when I’m being emo, but…that’s what you choose to focus on? I enjoy your company, Parker.”

Peter smiled at his crush, and made a mental note to never trust Ned again.

“Well I better go.”

“Before you do,” Peter paused to make sure she was listening,”Why did you take sudden interest in us? Like, Ned said it was because you liked me…Jeez, that sounds so conceited, but I mean…why us? If you didn't…”

“It may not have been you I had a crush on Peter,” (Y/N) told him, a shy smile adorned on her face,”But…oh hold on. My phone buzzed.”

(Y/N) checked her phone, and her smile got even bigger. She typed a quick response back, and giggled a bit. She put her phone back in her purse, and gave Peter a quick peck on the cheek.

“I’ve gotta go, Peter. Thank you for being so lovely.”

And with that, (Y/N) opened the door to her house and went inside, leaving Peter to his thoughts. As Peter walked back to the party, he made the (what should have been) quick connection to who she had feelings for, and honestly, Peter felt really stupid. Now that he was looking back on it, it was right there in his face.

(Y/N) liked Michelle!

[weretheones]

Ten Years- Daryl Dixon AU

Plot/Request: Anon requested- “hey ! I was wondering if I could request a Daryl AU where Daryl and the reader are in their senior year o high school and they've been close with each other since childhood but the reader is badly bullied by her peers some of which are daryl's friends but when Daryl finds out he goes crazy angry and almost gets expelled? lol I thought this would be kinda cute and would distract me from what's actually going on in wtd rn lol”

Word count: 1939


Warnings: bullying, violence, swearing

Note:
 hope everything is ok! msg me if you need to talk. this goes out to anyone who may need it, i’m here for you <3 also, i went in an odd direction with this -- sorry if it’s not what you wanted!! i might continue this ;)

also... i’m back???

Tagging: @supernotnaturalcas, @milkyblubber, @zombeeegurl, @buckaroo--barnes, @its-bri19, @bitchasaurus, @sexyseabaz, @danandphllfics, @dashesoflipstick, @thatrandomblogblog, @team-barry, @sesshomaru-lover, @machiavelliperez. inbox or message me if you’d like to be tagged in upcoming fics! (please specify if you’d like everything or certain characters/series)

—————————————————————————————

Smash.

The sound of your body hitting the locker echoed through the air. Slowly, the pain began erupting from your right shoulder. You groaned with clenched teeth.

The force that had sent you into that locker laughed, giving you a quick glance before he hurried off. You stood by the unaffected metal container, a small frown on your lips. Blinking hard, you rolled your already sore shoulder back, moaning in pain.

It was the regular torment of your day, a routine one might say. You were used to  him, Blake, toying with your already damaged mental state-- didn’t mean it hurt any less-- but it was to be expected. The physical pain, however, was quite new. What lead them to it was a mystery, but you sucked it up, just like you knew you should.

The pair of blue eyes watching from across the hall didn’t feel that he should be let off the hook. Those eyes, which had never witnessed an incident like this before felt as if something had to be done.

He knew you didn’t like when he lost his temper, so he always tried to contain it. But the sight of that asshole purposely crashing his body into yours was too much for Daryl to handle. Even as he tried to use the breathing exercises you taught him years ago, he was boiling with rage.

Hell, it was the second last day of school anyways. He didn’t care anymore.

The stuffy air of the crowded hallway quickly raced through Daryl’s lungs. His father had taught him how to hunt and how to fight. The latter being more defensive skills than anything else. Still, Daryl was a Dixon, and Dixon’s knew how to punch.

Thankfully, knuckles to the nose was all Daryl really needed to hurt the young man. A loud grunt left both of their lips, then another crash of a body slamming into a locker sounded.

���Daryl, no!” You screamed. He held back the urge to kick the now fallen teen in the stomach as he heard you. His blue eyes were lit with rage, anger and bitterness.

Blake cupped his very broken nose. Blood almost immediately began oozing out of his nostrils, his fingers gingerly touching the skin as he gasped. Daryl smirked, unaware he was even doing so.

The boy, who was expected to fight back, simply screamed for help, though not for one of his friends. The second you glanced down the hall, you saw your principal running towards you all.

“Dixon, stay back!” He screamed. Even through the layers of fake tan, you could see the redness growing on Mr. Johnson’s cheeks. You took a step back, glued to the locker behind you.

Daryl glanced at you, a slight panic in his blue eyes. Blake yelled, “Sir, he attacked me! He broke my nose!”

“Step back, boy.” The principal warned Daryl. His lanky body crunched as the abnormally tall man crouched to Blake. “Let’s get you to the nurse.” He soothed, helping the boy up.

“Dixon,” The man sighed, “My office. Now.”

Your body shook uncontrollably. There was no way Daryl was getting away with that. There was no way he wouldn’t get in trouble.

The pair of blue eyes you’d grown to know, to trust and to love stared at you with the same knowledge. Trying to keep your emotions under wrap, you pulled your textbooks closer to your chest. But your (Y/E/C) eyes still watered, a single tear slipping down your cheek.

The sight of your hurt face was too much. Daryl’s eyes ripped away from yours, feeling the imagine burn itself into his memories. Instead, he stared down to the dirty tiled floor, watching his feet as he moved farther from you.

Far enough that when he finally looked back, you were nothing but a blur.

-

The last thing you remembered of the Dixon boy was the sight of his dirty blonde hair disappearing behind the curve of the halls. You wished you remembered his eyes instead, or a rare smile of his -- but alas, the last sight you’d taken in of your childhood love was his back.

Daryl never showed up to graduation. No one spoke of him or his absence as if he’d never even gone to the school. You remembered Blake showing up with an odd looking bandage on his nose and a sheepish look on his face whenever you crossed paths.

There was nothing for you at the party afterwards, so you went home.

Your parents gave you flowers, cards and some cash. Fifty dollars, split into one twenty and three tens. They told you how sorry they were for missing your graduation, they claimed they couldn’t get the day off work.

You knew they could’ve. Both their bosses were quite flexible. But you needed the money, especially since you had been accepted into college. It was obvious that them missing the ceremony hit them harder than it did you. So you didn’t make it into a big deal. You were just happy they were there with you that night.

Two days after school had finished, you found yourself drifting down the road to his home. It was at the end of the street and as you grew closer, listening to the loud sound of gravel under your feet, you felt your stomach twist and turn.

Daryl never wanted you to come over. You’d asked to see the creek, and he’d gotten mad at you for coming that close. His father had learned through the few townsfolk who talked to him that Daryl and you were close. He teased Daryl about it, which only made the youngest Dixon fear for your safety.

He hated his father. You knew that by the way his eyes changed when someone mentioned his name. But Daryl would never admit it.

Still, you knew where it was. It was the infamous Dixon house after all.

The home was hidden behind some of the extended forest. The smell of motorcycle fuel and whiskey was strong, but as you pushed past that, you could smell the faint scent of the creek that traveled through their backyard. The small trickles of water could overcome the loud crashes and heavy voices -- if you really tried.

The town didn’t, not even the Dixons themselves. It seemed only you, at 18 years old, understood the hidden peacefulness of that home.

But that day, you couldn’t find a drop of calmness. Instead your mind went wild, making you run away.

You searched and searched for why you couldn’t just knock on the door. You knew something held you back, but what exactly, you were unsure of. Somewhere in the past ten years, it’d slipped your mind.

Tonight, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of Daryl being there -- at the reunion. The class of ‘86.

The navy blue dress was soft against your skin. It matched the tie, lying on top of the chair’s back. You could hear rustling coming from the bathroom, no doubt Alex trying to fix himself up beyond perfection.

Glancing across the cramped hotel room, you caught sight of the time -- five to six-thirty. Alex dashed out of the bathroom, pulling his tie from the chair and quickly putting it on. You watched him act at a pace that could’ve made you look like a sloth.

It didn’t take long to get to the school compared to the time it took to fly to your hometown. You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your gut was because you were anxious or about to vomit, maybe it was a combination of the two.

You could’ve sworn you’d closed your eyes for a small moment, just to let the wind brush through your hair and tickle your face, but by the time your eyes were open again, you had arrived.

The school looked the same. Even down to the placement of the bushes and trees, the building hadn’t changed at all. Roaming the halls brought back memories, some of which you’d wished hadn’t resurfaced.

Most of them were of Daryl.

A blonde woman sat at the long table, her back arched and a bright smile on her face. You felt her name at the tip of your tongue, something with an... A?

“Name?” The woman asked, engrossed in the list below her. She barely gave you a look as you approached her, Alex by your side. Clearly, she was busy.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and he’s a plus one.” You smiled softly, answering.

After hearing your name, the woman’s eyes snapped up to you. It was then you noticed the same glimmer of cheer in her brown eyes. It was odd how the colour she often critiqued always seemed to shine the brightest for most.

Amanda, who was one of your closest friends in eleventh grade whispered, “(Y/N)-- holy shit.” Her words trailed off, following your body instead. The bottom of her lip slightly twitched, until a high pitched sequel followed, “You look fucking amazing!”

“Thank you.” You blushed profusely. Alex smirked at the shade of pink growing on your cheeks. “You do too!”

“Gosh, it’s been so long. Almost eleven years, right?”

A loud scoff left your lips, “Yeah. Shit, that’s,” You exhaled, “long.”

“No kidding.” Her blond strands of hair fell in her face while she shook her head. You smiled back at her, happy to see her again.

You weren’t sure why Amanda was there. She’d left for grade twelve to go to another city. Her father had been up for a promotion-- he got it. She was ecstatic about it, but you knew you’d have no one for your last year of high school -- except Daryl. Last you’d heard of her, she’d been accepted into an ivy-league school.

“Well, I won’t keep you.” She laughed, handing you a name tag as well as Alex. “We’ll catch up later, right?”

“Right. Nice to see you again, Amanda.”

-

“Shit,” You heard a low grumble from behind you. Your eyebrows reached up, questioning your fiancé. “Those cookies. They’re addicting.” He complained. As if he was a drug addict, itching for a hit, he fiddled around with his body. His foot tapped uncontrollably, fingers fiddling with each other.

The whole situation made you chuckle, “Just go get some more already.” You shooed him away, turning the suddenly childish man and giving him a weak push forward. He sighed, but gave into his temptations.

“Get me some too!” You yelled after him. Your words hit his ears, which made him raise a thumbs up in response. A soft chuckle left your lips before you turned back around.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d smacked into a warm force and lost your balance. Your ankles shook, the high heels wobbling underneath your weight, but you never hit the ground.

The warmth you’d crashed into engulfed you. It felt so inviting, so much like home that you chuckled, “Oh, sorry--”, looking at your hand placed on their chest. It was mostly firm, but had a small amount of squish to it. You thought next to nothing of the encounter.

But when you looked up, peaking through your eyelashes all you saw was a pair of piercing blue eyes. They were older, more mature, but still held a certain sparkle that was undeniably familiar.

“Daryl?”

[peakyblinders1919]

Always

You sat at the bar in your sparkly gold dress and matching headband. Guys were scattered all around you, every single one trying to get your attention. Their eyes were glued to you as you’d say something, causing them all to laugh. You were the main reason people came to The Eden; The Captivating Cadence (a stage name of course). You were the headline act. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you received at the club from time to time. It was easier to forget about things when men crowd around you and buy you drink after drink.

The band on stage was tuning up, and you gulped down the rest of your drink before putting it down. “That’s my queue boys.” You say, shimmying away from them and into the spotlight.

You sang a few fast, happy songs before your set was coming to an end. It was your own personal tradition to end with your favorite song, no matter how sad it was. It usually brought tears to everyones eyes, the way you sang the words with soul, mixed with the rhythm of your rising and falling voice.

I'll be loving you always

With a love that's true always.

When the things you've planned

Need a helping hand,

I will understand always.

Your about to finish singing when you stop abruptly, the band still going as your eyes lock on someone in the crowd. He hadn’t noticed you yet, but you catch the eye of his brother next to him. You follow them as they walk through the room, and only once their gone do you rush to finish through the song. Everyone applauded as you rush off the stage and push yourself to the bar, knowing you’ll need more liquor if you're forced to talk to them.

“Can I buy you a drink?” A harsh voice behind you says and you turn around slowly.

“Arthur!”  You say, trying to sound excited while cover the fear in your voice at the same time. “I thought that was you I saw before.”

“Guilty.” He says, doing a funny bow, making you both laugh. The job at the club was keeping you busy enough to make you forget how much you had missed the Shelby’s “You look great Y/N.” He says more seriously now, throwing money on the bar for a drink.

“Thank you, so do you.” You say, trying to look behind him in the crowd for the person you really wanted to see. “So, what brings you down to these parts of London?”

“Business. We’re looking into buying the club.” He says cooly.

“Buying the club? Or taking the club by brute force?” You say, half joking. He shrugs his shoulders and downs his drink.

Then the awkward silence washes over you. You awkwardly play with your empty glass, stealing glances for the two other boys.

“It really is nice to see ya Y/N.” Arthur says. “Things haven’t been quite the same lately.” You try not to be too taken aback by his kind words.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You say, trying to remain detached.

“Arthur. Where’ve you been, we got stuff to do.” John says loudly, struggling to get to his brother. He slaps him on the shoulder, trying to pull him away from whatever he was doing and back to the business when Arthur motions his head at you. John’s gaze slowly follows his direction until his eyes land on you sitting at the bar, his toothpick falling out of his mouth and onto the floor. “No shit. Y/N?” He says, shocked.

You shrug, trying to remain level. “The one and only.” He laughs as he runs to you, enveloping you in a brotherly hug, and you can’t resist the urge to laugh.

“Well holy shit, what’s it been, almost a year?”

“Not quite, but pretty close. Feels like longer.” You admit.

“Still singing then, eh?” He asks with a grin.

“Yup. Headline act.”

“No kidding.” He says with a chuckle. “You did always have the voice of an angle, it filled The Garrison with a lot of paying costumers.” He jokes, making you blush, memories of then flooding back to you.

“Hey Johnny, where’s uh…” Arthur says, not wanting to make anything awkward.

“Oh, right, yeah….he’s talking to Sabini. It doesn’t seem good, may have to come back another time.” He says, trying to be discreet around you and not say what really was going on.

“He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?” You ask bluntly, making the men turn towards you. They stand there silently, unsure what to say.

“Uh, no I guess he hasn’t noticed yet.” Arthur says.

“You think he’ll still want the place when he finds out?”

“Uh, I suppose so. You know Tom-… he gets what he wants.”

“It’s ok John, you can say his name in front of me. I’m not going to burst into tears. I’ve had a year to get over him, but I’ll be damned if he walks in here and ruins the one good thing I’ve had since he left.” You say angrily, getting up and walking towards the office. Arthur and John catch you by the arms, holding you back. “What are you doing?” You protest, trying to fight against them but to no avail.

“Y/N, he can’t see you right now.” Arthur says.

“Why not?” You say, crossing your arms.

“He’ll get distracted, he’ll lose focus…you just can’t. Not now.” John says, sending weird feelings to you. You don’t even have time to process exactly what he means when a fight breaks out abruptly. Guns going off, bullets flying through the air towards you, obviously from Sabini’s men, meant for the Shelby’s on either side of you.

“Shit!” You all say unanimously as they try to stand in front of you, do whatever they can to protect you as the guests start running out in terror. John pulls you behind the bar, loading his gun with Arthur goes and beats some men up.

It’s total chaos when Tommy comes waltzing into the room, his gun pointed at the enemy. “Arthur, John, where the fuck were you?” He yells angrily, all of Sabini’s men already done and out for the count. Earsplitting ringing to silence in a matter of seconds. Neither of the boys answer him as you slowly get up from your place behind the bar.

“They were with me.” You say quietly, getting a good look at him for the first time. Everything about him looked the same except his breathtaking blue eyes; they used to hint that there was light behind them, and now they were presumably duller. He looks you over, and God you wish you could know what he was thinking. You hoped he thought you looked good at least, that you were doing great without him, even though it took you six months to get over him, plus moving to a different city. You and Thomas Shelby had dated for almost three years, everyone had thought you were going to get married and it’d be all happily ever after for you two. You thought so too, but the war and the business were always in the way, and you had both decided breaking up was the best thing for you two. That is to say, you were both still in love with each other but couldn’t really do anything about it.

About five minutes go by in silence, you taking in the sight of each other while Arthur and John stand to the side awkwardly. Without taking his eyes off of you Tommy’s deep voice fills the air, “Arthur, John go get the papers in the back office.”

“You sure…”

“Yes, now.” He says, and they hurry out leaving you two alone in the big ballroom. “Y/N…”

“Tommy…” You say, his name rolling off of your tongue.

“You look….great.” He says, fishing out a cigarette, then putting it back when he remembers you never liked when he smoked.

“So do you.” You say, which was true. “God, I never thought I’d see you again.” You mutter quietly.

“Me either.” He confesses. “You still singing I assume?”

“And you’re still running around wild, terrorizing people?”

“It’s called business.” He says, and slowly you remember why you two would have never worked.

“So, does this mean you own the club…and you own me again?” You ask, turning your back to him when you can’t stand to look at his face much longer.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was where you were, you left without saying anything.”

“I thought it’d be too hard; if you knew where I was…you’d stop by and check up on me and how could I ever get over you. Truth is…it took a long time.” You pause as he takes a step closer. “And now I’m not sure I am.”

“Everything’s been different without you. Worse.” He admits, causing you to turn around and look up at him, your eyes stinging with tears about to spill over. “Y/N…” He breathes your name effortlessly, the tips of his fingers brushing against your skin, up and down your arm, spreading goosebumps all over you.

“Tommy, we can’t do this.” It pains you to say. He holds out a hand.

“How about just one dance, for old time’s sake?” He says and you nod, taking his hand as he starts to lead you in a dance. You looks into his eyes, little room between you as his hand rests comfortably on your waist. He leads you around and soon you find yourself resting your head on his chest, humming the song you sang before, that you always secretly dedicated to him. In that empty room, in Tommy’s arms, you finally felt whole again.

“I’ll always love you. No matter what.”

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