#eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
"THE FIRST DATE"
EXTRA CONTENT - "BEYOND THE HOURS"
→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader
→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7k+
→ a/n: the very long awaited first date. this was requested by several people. wahoo! also, fair warning for second-hand embarrassment. i think eddie munson is the only person who drag me dancing around a bowling alley and i wouldn't smite them on the spot.
enjoy the main story's masterlist here
EDDIE: What about a fancy dinner date?
YOU: boring.
YOU: and too traditional. when were you even born, Munson? the 60s???
EDDIE: Ha. Ha. I don’t see you making any worthwhile suggestions, sweetheart.
YOU: i don’t have to make any suggestions, old man. YOU’RE supposed to be wooing ME
God forbid anyone walked in on you at this moment.
You were like a high schooler, lying on your stomach with your feet kicking up into the air as you stared at the screen, happily bantering with Eddie over text. All the butterflies, all the blissful jitters, all that dopamine rush that comes with school girl crushes – every single cliche was present and was in full force as you discussed the details of your first date with him. You used to scoff (albeit with hidden longing) at all the romance movies that you truly believed had overplayed all the giddiness, but now you got it. It was disgusting, the way he had you wrapped around his finger so easily, the way he had turned you into a heart-eyed shell of the woman you once were in the matter of a week.
EDDIE: So you have a thing for older men is what you’re telling me.
YOU: i NEVER said that.
EDDIE: Didn’t have to, sweetheart. I can read between the lines.
Over the last week, since the two of you had won the bet and you had won over with insistence on him properly asking you out, Eddie had been tossing around date ideas as he tried to plan this very first occasion. The only time you had even seen him was when your entire group met up, the latest outing having been for brunch on Saturday under the guise celebrating the one week anniversary of you and Eddie surviving twenty four hours together without killing each other.
Didn’t stop him from calling and texting you. And it clearly hadn’t deterred him from losing his mind over doing right by you with this entire first date ordeal.
YOU: i don’t even have the energy to explain to you how many times you have proven to not do that in the past.
EDDIE: I’ve read between the lines in the past!
YOU: you most certainly have NOT
EDDIE: I was able to read when you wanted to kiss me that night. That’s reading between the lines.
And so the giddiness rears its head, full fledged as heat swarms your body and your cheeks ache from your smile.
YOU: i hate you
EDDIE: No, you don’t
YOU: i do. i really do.
EDDIE: You’re such a shit liar
You nearly jump out of your skin when there’s a knock on your dorm’s door, annoying and persistent as it taps out some random rhythm that must be a song of some sort. But whatever song it is, you can’t recognize it as you stand, walking over to answer.
“Did you forget your key aga-” you begin, assuming it was just your roommate. You’re shocked to see Robin and Steve standing there, “What are you guys doing here?”
“We had a study date, in case you had forgotten and not seen our hundreds of texts,” Steve huffs, quickly crossing his arms.
You hadn’t seen their texts. Most of your screen time had been a bit preoccupied with a certain metalhead.
“Oh, shit,” your face falls as you open the door wider, side-stepping and motioning for them to come in.
“Yeah,” Steve snarks as he comes right in, Robin hot on his trails and seeming in a far more pleasant mood as the boy mocks you, “Oh, shit.”
Robin stops beside you as Steve helps himself to a seat in your desk chair, “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because he has to get A’s on all his mid-terms to keep his 3.0.”
“I am not cranky-”
“You are!”
“Am not!”
“You so are,” Robin continues to egg him on, choosing your bed as her resting place.
Your phone bounces a bit from the way she throws herself down on the sorry excuse for a mattress, and you recall how you had yet to reply to Eddie. Fuck.
“When did we even make these plans?” you ask, genuinely confused as you shut the door. You already miss the peace and quiet of being alone, free to preen at your phone and giggle to your heart’s content at the world’s worst flirt over text.
“Saturday,” Steve groans, throwing his head back.
“It was after brunch,” Robin clarifies, lifting herself up from how she was lounging amongst your blankets, “I mean, you seemed a bit distracted when you agreed, but… We did text you about it.”
You had been distracted. Eddie had managed to quietly ask the waitress to include your tab with his so he could pay for it without your knowledge, and you’d spent the entire time torn between being upset with the boy and absolutely fawning. It was a bit pathetic, looking back at it – the fact that those were the only two options your mind had presented you with. You’d scorned him over the phone later that night, and he had only laughed. You swear you can still hear it now, having heard it several times since – a low chuckle that rattled into the caverns of your chest, that bounced amongst vines of affection and willed open blooms of adoration just a little bit wider.
Part of you was still waiting for the wilting. For the other shoe to drop, for all of what had been exposed and had been planted to vanish from your grasps. That first Monday morning, you’d even woken up worried it had all been a dream.
“I’ve been busy,” you lamely try to excuse your radio silence.
“Busier than normal?” Steve’s brows quirk up, leaning back in your chair that emits a squeak of protest, “Or have you just been busy with new friends?”
Your lips twist and your nose twitches in confusion, “New friends? What the Hell are you going on about, Harrington?”
Robin fully sits up now, watching with piqued interest.
“Eddie,” Steve gets straight to the point, his previous sour mood finally melting slightly, “You can’t honestly tell me that nothing changed after that night.”
It was something neither of you had really discussed. Steve had seen you two, knew that a lot had truly changed based off of the way you’d tossed him right into the middle of the mess there at the end, but you and Eddie had never said anything about being together. Not to your friends, and not even to each other.
“Just because I don’t want to tear his head off his shoulders anymore doesn’t mean we’re spending every waking moment together,” you force your best scowl, as if that wasn’t exactly what you had yearned for all week.
Eventually, it had to wear off. That’s what you told yourself – at some point the initial rose tones would fade less vibrant, and Eddie’s intense occupation of your mind would lessen with the hues.
“I can’t believe it, but I am siding with Stevie on this one,” Robin finally contributes, “I mean, you guys won’t even tell us what happened that night.”
“Nothing exciting,” you’re quick to lie, “Just… I don’t know. Boring stuff. Getting on each other’s nerves, sitting around on his couch,” that gets a bitter scoff from Steve that almost makes you freeze up. Damn Eddie for teasing him with the truth about the couch, “Nothing worth making a big deal over. Like I said, we just learned to… to… tolerate each other.”
Tolerate was an interesting way to put spending hours on the phone together each night, sometimes falling asleep while still on the line.
Steve still looks as though he’s recalling all of Eddie’s annoying taunts from that night while Robin only grins salaciously.
“Tolerate each other?” she mimics you, leaning forward and pressing her palms into the edge of the mattress beside her knees, “Babe, have you two even said a single mean thing to each other since that night? I think he even smiled at you on Saturday. You’re practically married with two and a half kids already.”
He had smiled at you – multiple times. And each one had struck the most delicate of daggers right into your chest, lighting you aflame under his attempted clandestine attention. Every time those big, brown eyes had met yours from across the table, the ache you’d started to hold for him had only doubled in size. By the end of that morning, when the day had technically started to bleed out into the afternoon, you were nothing more than a vessel of pining for the boy that you hadn’t even gotten the chance to brush against amongst your friends.
“Whatever,” you murmur as you reach out to snatch up your phone, “I never even understood the whole half kid thing. Like, how the fuck do you have two and a half kids?”
“I’m sure Eddie would be more than happy to show you,” Steve teases despite his still half-traumatized look.
You’re quick to reach out a hand to whack the back of his head, “Shut up. Are we gonna keep sitting here while you two try to pry something that doesn’t exist out of me, or are we going to go study?”
Steve’s grumpy mood returns as he rubs the back of his head, him and Robin standing in sync to exit the room.
But before the three of you exit the dorm, you check your phone one last time, having to bite down on that girlish grin when you see two new text message notifications.
EDDIE: It’s official. I’m a genius.
EDDIE: Say, are you free tomorrow night?
—
Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. A shift at your job, one too many hours spent sitting through lectures, ensuring a night of studying with Steve and Robin — all petty distractions, roadblocks on your path to the most highly anticipated first date of your life. Eddie wouldn’t even entertain you with details, only telling you to dress fairly comfortably and to put on your best game face.
And you did. To some extent, you really did.
But you’d finished getting ready hours in advance, something you blamed on nerves, and having that much time to kill with such nerves was dangerous.
Simple makeup turned a bit more extravagant, you had tried on nearly every outfit in your possession, you’d even eyed your hair curler on more than one occasion.
Comfortable. What the Hell was that even supposed to mean?
Your only solution had been to text the man of the hour himself, something to busy your thumbs instead of twiddling them or involving them in taking your date night look several steps over just comfortable.
YOU: okay, so. can you define ‘dressing comfortably’?
EDDIE: According to Google, “dressing in a way that makes you feel at ease in your body” :)
YOU: fuck off. you know that’s not what i meant.
Still no clues. He wasn’t caving so easily to your pestering. You should have known better, considering he’d been professionally dodging any questions or inquiries you had regarding the date for the last twenty four hours.
EDDIE: Don’t overthink it, sweetheart.
That certainly didn’t help. Not even in the slightest.
You don’t even reply to his text, already back to pacing your dorm before you finally cave to an impulsive decision you’d been grappling with for hours now.
There was a newish, sporty skirt in the bottom of your drawers. It was comfortable, it had built-in shorts, and it looked damn good on you. The hem fell right around mid-thigh and always flared in an overly satisfying fashion when you’d spin while wearing it. The material of the pleats was nearly impossible to wrinkle. It wasn’t overly soft against your palms as you still nervously smoothed it down once you’d shimmied it on, but you still repeated the motion in hopes of soothing some of your nerves.
You’re sure it’s the wrong option until Eddie sees you in it.
He texts when he’s on his way and you find yourself bounding outside to wait for him far too early to be reasonable. He hadn’t even arrived until after your back had nearly become one with the brick exterior of the dorm building's front wall, leaning into the scratch of the clay on your shoulder blade a welcome distraction until you heard the roar of a motorcycle engine.
You nearly grow dizzy from the sudden rush of nerves.
This is really happening. You’re about to go on a date with Eddie, the first time of what you hope will be many to come.
“Took you long enough, Munson,” you snark loud enough for him to hear as he clicks the Yamaha’s kickstand into place right by the vibrant red curb. There’s a sign not even a full foot away from where he’s standing that clearly spells out NO PARKING.
Oh.
Oh.
If you hadn’t already been riddled with nerves, your knees would have gone weak at the sight of him.
Since when is that dressing casual and comfortable?
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” he shoots right back as he lifts the helmet off his head, and something inside of you clenched tightly at the sight with no plans to unwind any time soon.
Dark wash jeans plaster his legs, heavy combat boots smacking against the pavement as he walks to meet you halfway. The black shirt he’s donning isn’t extravagant, but something in the way that t-shirt material stretches across his chest has you burning from the inside out. He’s even gone so far as to tuck the shirt into the jeans, his black leather belt on show as he hugs the helmet below his bicep. And his normal leather jacket — you don’t believe you’ve ever seen it look better, ever seen it fit his shoulders so snugly. He’s dressed to perfectly match the all black bike, the image of a bad boy straight out of every cheesy movie you’d ever seen.
The only thing that breaks the illusion is the boyish grin pulling the arrival of his dimples along with it as he watches you push off the wall. His eyes are sparkling as you approach him, a constellation of hope and new beginnings twinkling right before you.
He’s not sorry that you waited on him. Not in the slightest. Especially when those starry eyes travel over your appearance.
You have to force yourself to tsk, because otherwise you might end up just another pile of ash for the poor landscapers to sweep up, “Haven't you heard it’s rude to keep a lady waiting?”
You stop in your steps just far enough to catch the way his eyes take you in. Drinking slowly. Following the trace of the just fancy enough tank top that you’d chosen to balance the skirt. Lingering on the plush of your inner thighs, barely peeking out the bottom of your chosen outfit for the night.
You almost start to feel self conscious until he lets out a little sigh, nearly a whimper as his eyes trail back up to find yours.
“I’m sure I have,” he chokes out, composure momentarily vanished as you distract him so easily, “But aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“I could say the same about you.”
You’re like a shark. If you stop swimming in the upstream flirtations, you’ll drown instantaneously in his big brown eyes.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you swear you see a hint of a blush across the highs of his cheek bones and sides of his neck as he holds out the helmet for you, “At least with me, it will.”
“Even the top secret location of this date?” you ask as you take the helmet, considering putting up a fight. You still hated him not wearing one for your expense, and you weren’t exactly eager for any sort of helmet hair, “Do I have to wear-“
He knows the end of your sentence before you even finish, “Yes. No exceptions; you have to wear it every time you ride.”
“Every time?”
“It’s for safety.”
“Isn’t it sort of unsafe for you to go without one?”
“You’re wearing the helmet,” he sighs, nose twitching with indignation as he holds staunchly onto the position, “And to answer your other question, no. I guess flattery will get you almost everywhere, but it’s a surprise.”
You fiddle with the chin straps, looking down as you feel his gaze burning the top of your head from this angle, “Fine. But we really should just get me my own helmet. You need to wear one, too. And…” you look back up, pausing before you properly put on the piece of safety equipment, “It’s a little oversized. You know, considering it was meant to fit your big head first.”
He narrows his eyes, still lit up with a sort of playfulness you haven’t grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of.
You like him quite a bit more than you bargained for. A lot more than five hundred dollars, or twenty four hours, ever would have summarized.
“We can go helmet shopping another day.”
We. Not just him, not just you. But you and him. A unit. A couple.
“It’s a date,” you whisper just before you slide on the helmet. You completely miss the wildfire that the ghost of a blush has finally become. You completely miss the way that your talk of you two together, you two as a couple with a future, affects him just as his has an effect on you.
Helmet hair is worth it, you decide, once you’ve saddled onto the bike behind him and he revs up the engine once more. You’re not as shy as you had been on that fateful night the week before, quick to wrap your arms around his middle and let your chest press hard against his back. The leather crinkles against the contact, the heat of him radiating, and you think you could spend forever like that.
You’re almost upset that you can’t smell his cologne through the helmet. That once terrible scent of boy.
Every curve and every slow stop is another excuse to cling to him tighter, every red light a reason for him to turn his head and catch a glimpse of you with a small grin that never once falters. You swear at one of the lights, when he revs his engine in a particularly rowdy fashion right as the light turns green and takes off particularly fast, you can hear his laughter over the loud wind mingling with the roaring engine. You know you can feel it, vibrating in his chest right along with your own that gets lost in the chaos of the unusually busy Tuesday night street.
When he pulls into the parking lot behind the older building, you catch sight of the neon sign out front and find yourself laughing again.
“Bowling?” you question, yanking the helmet off less than gracefully as he stands off the bike you’d just swung yourself off of, “You’re taking me bowling?”
He takes the helmet from you, suddenly looking a bit shy as he averts his gaze, “Not just any bowling. It’s… It’s the coolest bowling alley you will ever go on a first date at.”
“You say that to every girl you bring here?”
You’re just teasing him, trying to poke fun rather than succumb to all the fluttering that bruises your inner chest and stomach. But then he has to ruin your fun, strike a match and set you aflame so adroitly.
“Only the prettiest ones.”
You should continue the banter, challenge him on just who else fell into that category, but you can’t. It’s in that glimmer of his eyes and the indent of his dimples, the way he looks at you as he slowly rises and somehow softens his gaze all while keeping a threat of a bite beneath the tone. His eyes tell you that you are, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he’s referring to. That in this moment, you begin and you end his world, and not even the commotion of traffic or nip in the air that creeps up as the summer sun sets can deter his attention being set solely on you.
But his tone suggests something far more dangerous. He says it like you’re a prey, an unattainable catch that he’ll be chasing for the entire night. A wicked growl to that voice you’ve been falling asleep to over the phone far more than you care to admit in just a short week.
He says it like he’s going to ruin you. As if he hasn’t already injected himself into your veins, as if he isn’t the gasoline drowning and raging the burn within you.
But he keeps up the gentleman persona in the short walk up to the door of the establishment. Holds out his hand for yours to fit perfectly into, guides you to the inner sidewalk as cars fly past and the only thing between you and them is him.
The hunt is on from the moment he opens that door for you.
“Ever the gentleman,” you muse, voice hardly above a whisper as you brush past him and finally catch that smell of boy.
You think you’d drown in his cologne now if he gave you the chance. Bury your face in his chest, wrap your arms around him and press any inch of your own bare skin to his.
“Always,” it would have been a weak response if he’d only said it and nodded his head, but he takes it a step further. Right as you pass him, entering the brisk AC, his hand ghosts over the expanse of your lower back. Fingertips nimbly brushing right above the band of that skirt, grazing your tank top just hard enough for you to feel it and shiver.
It doesn’t stop there. The back and forth, the chase, the hunt.
The way he makes sure your knuckles brush his as he hands you your shoes, even more brushes of his palm flat against your lower back repetitively, the way he insists on a heavier ball that makes his arms strain and muscles display. Over the chatter from the bowling alley’s fairly nice bar and the music trickling out of the overhead speakers, you’re sure that your heartbeat has joined the ranks of audible noises to echo the nice haunt. You’re positive he can hear every thump, can pinpoint the exact moments that poor aching muscle inside your chest begins to race.
You go for a smaller weighted ball. You don’t think you could handle anything heavier with your current case of weak knees.
“Only an eight pounder?” Eddie tuts at you as you approach your designated lane again, “Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.”
No, I can’t. Your fault, really.
“I have weak arms,” you try to defend yourself as you rotate the red ball in your hands.
His favorite color. It hadn’t been intentional, but the swirling shades of stark scarlet and deep maroons is a nice touch.
“Poor baby,” he teases, leaning into you as you deposit the ball right behind his own ball on the track where it already rests.
A twelve pounder. A smoky quartz design, black base swirling with misty white and gold accents. Far prettier than yours by a landslide.
And fitting for the pretty boy you’re faced with when you turn to watch him shedding his leather jacket onto the bench a few steps away.
“Not all of us are some big, strong macho man,” you scowl insincerely, moving to sit beside him and follow his lead in switching out shoes, “I’m betting now that by halfway through the game, you’ll be caving and begging to use my ball, Munson.”
You’re looking down as you casually say it, one shoe already half off and unaware of just how close he had gotten until his hand reaches over. Not even a second later, he has your chin pinched between his fingers, gentle as it guides you and forces you to look at him, “Careful. Bets seem to be awfully dangerous when it comes to the two of us.”
Damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
The graze of those fingers against your jaw leaves a trail of ash, burning that lingers and thrums beneath your skin, heart officially skipping beats rather than merely speeding up. You’re coming to realize that when it comes to keeping up with Eddie Munson in his element, in all his charm and flirtatious banter, you’re a bit hopeless.
He has you trapped under his thumb — metaphorically and literally.
“Are you always this flirtatious with all your dates?” you spit out against your better judgment.
Why do I keep bringing up his previous flames? Do I really care? Do I really want to put myself through the torture of hearing about all of the girls, or guys, he’s wooed before me?
The same glittering eyes, the same hidden smirk from earlier. “Only the prettiest ones.”
“You keep saying that,” you mumble, chin pressing into his fingertips against their hold, “Just how many pretty dates have you had?”
The pride softens in an instant. His gaze is less sharp, grin less predatory as he raises his eyebrows.
“Does it really matter?”
You can’t help it. Your mind races ahead of you before you can stop it; you’re plagued in an instant with images of how many dates, how many other people he had indulged in over the year you two had wasted hating each other. You try to recall overhearing him describe any of those dates, try to remember if Nancy ever mentioned Eddie passing up one of the hangouts for a romantic endeavor.
You come up empty handed, but it doesn’t stop the overthinking.
“I guess not,” you feebly answer, unable to tear your eyes from him.
I guess not is really code for it matters so much more than I care to admit. An impossible riddle you can’t even expect him to pick up on.
His hand falls from your chin and finds home on your bare knee, warm palm swallowing it up. He gives it a squeeze, and you wonder for a moment if maybe he can read your secretive language. Maybe he’s seeing right through your overconfident front, maybe he has felt every racing of your pulse.
Maybe, he’s as nervous as you are.
He opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t think you can bear another moment of this new intimacy. It had been easier when the two of you were on a ticking clock, confined to his apartment and parameters of a bet that never really mattered. Vulnerability had less of an edge when you could yearn and pine to see it flourish in the real world — but now, here it was, twisting away within you both a week later and pricking away as the stakes at hand come to light.
“Are you ready for me to absolutely demolish your ass at this game?” you joke.
“Demolish me? That’s some big talk for someone using an eight pound ball, babe.”
“It’s not about how much you’re packing, pretty boy,” you scoff, “Just that you know how to use it.”
He smiles slowly, but the quick squeeze of his hand tells you the vulnerability is here to stay. He feels that cutting edge too, and he’s not shying away.
He leans right into it, just as he does your personal space, “Bring it on.”
—
“You’re cheating!”
“I’m not!”
“You are! Who the fuck gets three strikes in a row?”
Eddie strolls back towards you, self-satisfied smirk curling his lips and his hips swaying with arrogance as you continue to pout at his sudden show of sportsmanship, “I believe the answer is me, sweetheart. Wanna see me make it four?”
“I hope you just jinxed yourself,” you scowl as you hop up off the couch and Eddie swaggers right past you, hardly affected by the palm you smack into the center of his chest for good measure, “I hope you roll nothing but gutter balls the rest of the game, you prick.”
“Like you have been?”
“Burn in Hell.”
Eddie’s cackle echoes through the fairly busy alley. It wasn’t overwhelming, the lanes of either side of yours staying empty, the only other groups several ways down. So far, the date has been good. Even if Eddie was wiping the floor with your severe lack of skill.
Both of you had opted for Cokes rather than alcohol, Eddie had ordered some sort of platter with onion rings and mozzarella sticks that the two of you had easily been devouring between turns. Playful banter had been kept up easier than breathing, barking words without bite being snapped back and forth loud enough for the entire establishment to hear the two of you being exceptionally childish.
At some point, your nerves had melted. And you didn’t even need a lick of alcohol in your system for it to happen.
“Try to aim for the pins this time,” Eddie continues to taunt you from where he’s spread out on the brown faux leather bench you’d been taking turns warming the seat of.
Your fingers slide into the holes of your ball with ease, courtesy of the grease from all your snacking, “Try shutting the fuck up.”
More of his laughter sounds off, and you nearly trip on your walk up to the markings on the linoleum wood flooring. It’s a nice sound; a beautiful response to words that could easily read identical to how the two of you used to fight. But these aren’t fighting words, they’re words passed between two… two… friends?
Is that how you should continue to classify this? Were you and Eddie really still just friends?
The sound of your ball stuttering in hops across the beginnings of the lane replaces his laughter
No. Easy question – there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the two of you were definitely not friends. Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken. And for the remainder of this date, you could live with that.
Eddie sucks in an audible breath, letting the air whistle between his teeth as your ball veers at the last second and misses the pins entirely. Again.
“Th-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt him, spinning on your heel and holding up a warning finger. It’s harder to hold in your own grin when Eddie’s already smiling into his fist, leaning his elbows onto his thighs as his big eyes peer at you, clearly amused, “Don’t say a word.”
His knuckles dig further into his mouth.
“I meant to do that.”
His eyebrows shoot up, still not speaking.
“It takes real talent to avoid pins like that.”
He leans over a bit further, and you swear you hear him emit a snort from behind that damn fist.
You open your mouth to continue with the bit when the clattering of your ball returning to the ball rack comes from behind you. Eddie only shrugs cheekily as he finally drops his fist to grab for a mozzarella stick, his smile contained but those damn dimples still flashing you brilliantly.
Without taking your eyes off him, you hold up a warning finger for emphasis once more, trying to bite down any signs of your own amusement as you take a few steps back in the direction of the rack and repeat yourself, “I meant to do that.”
“Sure you did,” he muses before taking a bite of the mozzarella stick smothered in marinara sauce.
“I did.”
“I believe you.”
“I-”
It seems the Universe is in the business of interrupting you two. As if it seems all that hope and potential flourishing in the space between you two and decides that simply won’t do. As if it’s too much.
Maybe it is. But maybe, just maybe, you’re enjoying too much.
Suddenly, before you can even finish your sentence or grab for your ball, the lights of the alley have dimmed. A few spotlights over the alleys themselves light up, erratically waving patches of light over the shining floor as the music that had been playing overhead cuts out to be replaced with some poor employee’s voice.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen-” you and Eddie share a confused glance, “-The time is officially ten o’clock, meaning nineties night has officially begun! Have fun, and enjoy yourselves as we throw you back to the decade of Nirvana and Beanie Babies for the rest of the night with these straight jams.”
Your face scrunches up in a comical cringe before the buzzing static of the speaker can even cut out and the beginning lines of Say My Name by Destiny’s Child begins to play.
You aren’t entirely sure of how it happens. Maybe it’s all the playfulness in there, in all that electric teasing at the tip of Eddie’s tongue and all that hopelessness bubbling up in your chest as it dawns on you of the fact you were finally on a proper date with Eddie. Maybe it’s simply a good night for you to continue to make a fool of yourself, and Eddie sees it as a chance he’ll always be right there with you, prepared to make a scene as he follows your lead.
He stands up to approach you where you’re still rooted beside the rack, matching your own grin that blooms genuinely at the sound of the song.
It was one of your favorite’s. A small fact about yourself you don’t think you’ve ever told Eddie – that you can remember.
It’s small, at first. Just mouthing along to the first verse as he moves towards you, recognizing that excitement lighting up in you, shimmying his shoulders ever so slightly. He looks like an idiot – he’s absolutely your idiot.
“Did you know it was nineties night?” you mumble as he gets closer, shaking your head slightly.
“Stevie might have mentioned something about you enjoying nineties nostalgia,” he drawls, still taking sure steps towards you.
“Did you ask him for advice for our first date, Eddie?”
“No,” he scoffs quickly, finally close enough to grab you gently by your hips. He’s nowhere near manhandling you, but it’s still reminding you of the game, of the hunt, at play. You’re his prey and he’s officially making his move. Carelessly, nonchalantly. “He mentioned it ages ago. When they were trying to convince me you weren’t all bad.”
Your smile widens, “Was this around the time I threw a glass at your head, by chance?”
“Maybe.”
The dulcet instrumental of the song continues on overhead, beginning to pick up in beat, making you nod your head along as Eddie finally starts to tug you closer.
You’re in public, and you both should know better than to make absolute fools of yourselves, but it doesn’t seem to matter when all you can really see is him.
Your friends had also spent ages trying to convince you that Eddie wasn’t all bad, but you’d always known that much. You’d seen glimpses of the good in him from that very first night. When he’d made you feel welcome, when he’d given you a life-preserver to cling to when you’d felt most out of your element. You knew that Eddie Munson was one of those people who had a hardwired habit of trying to make people feel welcome.
Even in a room full of people, when you’d be non-stop embarrassing yourself endlessly.
All his jests had been further proof, but when he sees your rock on your heels as you enjoy the music, he takes it a step further. He grabs one of your hands with his free one, keeping a hold of your waist, encouraging all your giddiness over the song. Every single person in the establishment could be staring at the two of you – you didn’t care.
When he starts dramatically mouth along to the chorus of the song, swinging you around slightly, it takes very little provocation for you to join in with him.
You both could’ve taken a step further, and properly sang along in the most obnoxious voices possible, but you don’t. There’s still the slightest blanket of security there as Eddie keeps the antics mostly silent, reserving his dramatic reenactments of vocal runs for your eyes only. Even yanking your hand up close to his mouth, as though it was a microphone, as he swings you around again. You quickly become a giggling disarray, hardly able to keep up your own footing, eyes squinting with joy and what must be the messiest and ugliest smile possible showing off all your teeth. The type of smile and laughter you’d normally try to hide on instinct. The kind of smile you cover up.
But you can’t, because Eddie is keeping his sturdy grip on your hands with his own, and he’s drinking in every second of your joy. He’s vibrant as he watches the way he’s entertaining you. Shamelessly staring, making his antics falter.
“Baby, say my name,” he purposefully sings along dramatically, quietly but terribly off-key.
You can’t help but let out a snort, “Eddie, you’re an idiot.”
He ignores you, and continues to give you your own private concert, switching rapidly between singing the main song and the backup vocals, which only makes your stomach further ache with laughter.
This is what you’d been yearning for the last year. This silly side of him, an absolute fool who couldn’t care less about the stares of others.
The seductive side of him was enticing. The honest version of him nice. But this side of him? Carefree, rowdy, indiscreet? It may be your favorite yet.
Only the sound of a nearby teen couple mocking you two break the moment, just as you’ve begun to jokingly whisper-sing back into Eddie’s pretend microphone made of your joined fists. They make what must be vomiting noises, and you catch the tail end of one of them jokingly poking a finger towards their outstretched tongue as you finally sigh deeply.
You should probably feel embarrassed. Later on, when you find yourself in bed later tonight and attempt to find some rest, you’ll probably ruminate and burn yourself alive with all the embarrassment. But not right now; not with your boy still in front of you, smiling just as desperately wide as you were.
His dimples would probably consume him if you let him go on any longer.
“Eddie,” you choke out through residual laughter, tugging your hands free as the song starts to fade out. You make no move to remove yourself from him, though. Your arms find home around his shoulders, hands splayed just below the nape of his neck, “People are staring.”
“Good,” he snipes back, finally dropping the act but not the glee, “Probably entranced by how pretty you look right now.”
“Pretty? I probably look like a loser. They’re probably already engraving a trophy for world’s ugliest smile-”
“Oh, don’t do that,” his forehead falls against yours, rolling his eyes, “Shut up and take the compliment. I love your smile.”
There’s something unspoken there. He loves your smile, yes, but he’s also been denied of it for a very long year. It’s the first step of making it up to you, making up for lost time.
Making a fool out of himself, just to see that goddamn smile.
With your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and the tip of his nose bumping yours, the game of bowling is all but forgotten. Even the teens, still side-eyeing the two of you, can be pushed aside in your mind.
All your insecurities of the night that have crept in the shadows become insignificant. You don’t care how many dates Eddie has been on before you, you don’t care that you’ve clearly become a prey caught in his web. You don’t even care about the way you’re losing.
It’s the perfect first date. When one of his hands wander, playing with the hem of your skirt, knuckles and rings brushing against bare skin, it’s perfect.
“Hey,” you whisper, “I’ve got a question.”
“I have an answer.”
“You sound very sure there, big guy.”
“I am sure,” he pulls his face away just a bit, but his gentle touch against your thigh lings. The other hand stays warm against your lower back, keeping you pressed up against him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”
Not enemies, not friends – something different and something unspoken.
Hearing him say it out-loud will still be nice, though.
“Does this mean we’re official?” you breathe out, trying to cling to all your bravery and not let it slip away, “Like – God, I sound like a high schooler right now – does this mean we’re… you know…”
“Dating?” he’s grinning, unable to hide his giddiness.
“Yeah. Dating.”
The hand tracing circles on your exposed outer thigh rises up to your cheek, brushing along it as he tucks a bit of your hair back. You swear you see it shaking out of the corner of your eye.
“I sure would like to be,” it was shaking. You know it surely, because his voice is as well. Vulnerable and honest, just how you like him, “We don’t have to tell the others, we can take it slow, but-”
“But we’re dating.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement – an affirmation. You and Eddie Munson, the man you swore you hated just over a week ago, were dating.
He only nods, and you consider the way that his dimples might just swallow you whole instead of him.
Not enemies, not friends – lovers. It has quite the nice ring to it.
“Well, in that case,” you finally pull away, dropping your arms slowly and letting your fingers catch on the chain of the necklace he currently wears. A red guitar pick, something you’ll surely learn the story behind soon enough. “Better go and roll that fourth strike, boyfriend.”
His head rolls back, and a joking groan falls from his lips as his neck stretches and nearly distracts you momentarily, “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re making fun of me, you little shit.”
Another laugh falls from your lips as you step around him, quirking an eyebrow. Perfect first date, indeed.
“Get used to it, Munson.”
“I plan to, Sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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#ghost's stories#beyond the hours#twenty four hours#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader#their love language is just being mean to each other i'll be honest#i've been nervous about posting extra content about them for a while but save the leaves#i might revamp the masterlist#also side note but i also think reader's outfit would totally get a scolding solely because that is not safe attire for riding on a bike#eddie should have shoved her into his jacket and scowled about it but he's just easily distracted by how pretty he finds her
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Terrifyingly Intense
Rating: General
CW: Minor References to Sex, Steve Harrington's Self Worth Issues
Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Arguing, Apologizing, Making Up, Steve Harrington has Self Esteem Issues, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Lover, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Happy Ending
For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is terrifying."
💕—————💕
Steve doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.
He’s pretty incapable of being normal about how he loves Eddie. From week two of their relationship, Steve was ready to get down on one knee and propose. Which is insane of him. They’ve been close friends since Eddie woke up in early April. And somewhere in there, Steve said the words all over again with true intent and intense feeling. Now it’s December and they’ve been together for less than a month. And Steve is driving himself up a wall.
But it makes him sick to his stomach.
Yeah, he said “I love you”, to Eddie. He’s said it out of fear in the hospital. Said it with hysteria in that field some weeks ago. But that doesn’t change the way Steve wants to say it again. In a sobering moment. When they’re doing something mundane. And he hasn’t disappointed anybody around him or nearly lost anybody to some third world grave danger.
He should know how to do this.
Yet, here he is in their little relationship—which, truly, feels too intense and big for human language—pulling himself away whenever Eddie wants to see him or talk to him or be with him.
Logically, he shouldn’t be doing something so stupid.
But—God—he’s so afraid. Afraid that Eddie will wake up one day, realize just how intense and lonely and nuts Steve is, and he’ll break off what they have. And then…Well, then Eddie won’t wanna be friends, he’ll stop hanging around, he’ll make up excuses to not have Hellfire in Steve’s dining room, he’ll do something crazy like unfriend all of them, he’ll get the fuck out of Hawkins, he’ll leave everything he’s ever known behind.
Yeah, Steve can’t be the cause of that.
So, he hides away. Keeps himself busy. Occupied, whatever. Hands never idle. Brain never quiet. Eyes never rested. And he stays away from Eddie.
———
By the second week of Steve’s little shenanigan, Eddie has caught on.
It’s obvious by the hurt that simmers in his eyes. His soft scowl. The lingering touches that used to make Steve’s skin light up with arousal, now fleeting. Just as fleeting as every other love anything Steve’s ever involved himself in. But he’s too afraid of whatever realization Eddie will make of him.
To be vulnerable, well that’s like death to Steve. He remembers one of the last times he did so. Sans Robin’s confession, because Steve doesn’t think he had an actual thing for her—he’s easily convinced, okay, and he’s also an extremely lonely person. But Nancy definitely left her mark on his self worth, that’s for certain. Bullshit bounces around his—what he thinks—empty skull. If he allows himself to love strongly, he’ll be bullshit eventually. If he forces himself to pull away, he’ll probably still be bullshit.
He won’t win either way.
And that’s apparent by the next time Eddie comes pounding on his front door. Very literally. His fist making the whole door shake.
Steve rips it open, ready to spit fire at whoever is there, but all words die on his tongue in the face of Eddie’s open anger. Eddie’s face is furrowed everywhere possible, his eyes are like lasers, skin red and redder as he looks at Steve.
“Hey, Eds,” Steve tries to coo.
“Cut the shit, Harrington,” Eddie growls back. He shoves his way past Steve. Stumbling into the foyer. It’s been raining and Eddie’s soaked, dripping water from his leather jacket onto the floor, but Steve is too stunned to do anything about it.
In fact, Steve’s stomach is lurching. His mouth filling with saliva. Ready to puke. He shuts the door behind himself, turning around to fully face Eddie. “What—uh—What’s wrong, babe?”
Eddie looks around the space. As if hunting for something. His eyes are sharp when he glares back. “You aren’t busy,” he spits, “you didn’t have a shift at work, I already asked Robin. And you very much so aren’t sick.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The squeak of his jacket loud between them. “When you’re sick, you’re miserable. Like a wet fucking cat. You make a whole ordeal of it. And I come to your rescue every time. Yet, you’re lying to me.” He steps closer into Steve’s space. Steve steps away, back slamming into the door. “Why are you lying to me?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not, Eds. I wouldn’t—“ He bunches his palms at his sides. They’re sweating. His stomach still heavy and twisting. Chest pulsing. “—I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know—“
“Then why are you pulling away?” Eddie is practically pleading for an answer. His voice goes pitchy. “I hardly see you anymore. You claim your busy or sick or whatever—But you never are!” He exclaims, his words echoing.
Finally, Steve finds his strength to move. Stepping around Eddie, speeding into the kitchen. Eddie is following him, his footfalls heavy and clumsy, chasing. He won’t give Eddie an answer because he’s not sure which words to even say.
“Sorry I’m pulling away, I love you too much.” That doesn’t even make any fucking sense. Steve never makes sense. This whole thing is starting to make him dumb.
He pulls open the fridge, sticking his head inside, acting as if he’s about to make food. His hands rummaging, digging through his things, knocking containers over, nearly breaking some glass condiment bottles. If he can just get Eddie to grow disinterested in this conversation, maybe he’ll leave and Steve can stew in his feelings, up until he actually knows what to say.
God, what is wrong with him?
“Talk to me, Steve,” Eddie is demanding. “Please just talk to me. Is it something I did? Did I hurt you the last time we had sex or something? Were you dissatisfied with the last date I took you on? Because I can think of a million other things to do, to take you to experience, if you would only talk to me!” He begins to shout. Steve flinches where his head is still buried. He’s always hated arguing, reminds him of his parents, if he’s being honest. But Eddie doesn’t know that. And he hasn’t taken notice. So he continues on, “Maybe you didn’t like the Christmas gift I got you? Is that it? What did I do? Please, Steve, please just—“
“I can’t!” Steve finally yells back, standing up ramrod straight, the fridge door quietly and gently closing behind him. He shifts on his feet, hands bunching at his sides once more. He shakes his head, the tears already prickling in his eyes. “You don’t want to know, okay? You’ll think it’s stupid or something and then I’ll feel worse and I—You can’t know.”
His eyes dart up to Eddie, When was I looking at the floor? And Eddie looks…Well, he looks damn unhappy about that answer. But also severely concerned. He chews at his lip, crossing his arms once more, popping his hip so that his body is leaning away from Steve. He sharply exhales. “If you cheated on me or something, you can just say that. And I’ll get out of your hair.”
“What?” Steve squeaks. “Why would you think that? I wouldn’t do that to somebody.”
“Then what’s wrong? That’s all I can possibly think of as to why you’re putting distance between us.”
He stiffens, swallowing. Sniffling. God, why is he about to cry? His breath stutters in his chest. Stomach churning and churning and flipping. “It’s because I—“ He hiccups a sigh. “It’s because I love you too much, okay?” He whispers. Steve can’t make his voice any louder than that. The shame at the admission coiling tight in his throat and chest. He crosses his own arms, fingers wrapping around his elbows, fingernails digging into his soft flesh. “Like so much, you’ll think I’m insane. And then you’ll get weirded out by me. And you’ll think I’m fucking with you or something and then you’ll just leave. Like everybody else has.”
Eddie softens. Arms dangling loose at his sides. He hesitantly gets closer to Steve. “Baby,” he’s softly cooing, “why would that make me not love you? All I want is to be loved by you.”
“I’m scared,” Steve confesses. “I’m scared you’ll hear me and you’ll see how much I love you and you’ll leave. Or you’ll…You’ll realize something that a lot of other people tend to realize—“ He takes a gasping breath, something salty landing on his tongue. Of course he’s crying. “You’ll just realize that I’m a bullshit person. That I’m too much and too intense and too enamored, or whatever. You’ll realize that I’m bullshit in the sense that I don’t know what to do in a crisis or when I need to make somebody happy. You’ll think I’m bullshitting you about every fucking thing. Because I—“ A sob leaves his chest. It’s got claws, it hurts on the exit.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie slowly raises his left palm and cups Steve’s right cheek. His other hand lands on Steve’s opposite bicep. He runs his hand up and down the arm in tender swipes. “Steve,” Eddie starts, his voice low and trapping—his words are almost congested. “Sweetheart, your feelings aren’t bullshit. You aren’t bullshit because you feel something. Especially something like love. You deserve to have that. And you deserve the possibility of reciprocating.”
“I love you so bad, Eddie,” Steve cries out. “It fucking terrifies me how much I do. And I—“ The sobs come easier now, rattling his whole body, crumpling him bit by bit. Eddie shuffles in and drags Steve to his chest. And over Eddie’s heart, Steve mutters, “I don’t know how to be normal.”
Eddie’s hand on his bicep moves to the back of Steve’s head. His other hand falling away to Steve’s shoulder. “I love you, too,” he murmurs. “It physically hurt to not have you near me. I thought that I fucked everything up, Stevie. I love you so much, it threatens to destroy me sometimes.”
Steve nuzzles in closer. Tentatively wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Eddie whispers, “You don’t need to apologize. I understand, it’s alright.” He presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s head. His lips lingering. “Besides, I’m the most abnormal person fucking ever, sweetheart. Your love won’t chase me away. Never ever. You never have to be scared about loving me too much. I welcome it.”
“Okay,” Steve mutters, “I’m still sorry.”
Eddie sighs. “I know, love bug,” he whispers. “I know you are.” He moves his arm to wrap around Steve’s own torso, swiping his hand in one long, soothing stripe over his spine. Another kiss, this time to Steve’s temple. “Let’s order some pizza or something, alright? We’ll cuddle on the couch and calm down. I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for assuming the worst. I just love you so much and I know you love me, too—I couldn’t come up with a single reason why you’d stop.”
“I don’t think I can stop, which is also scary. But—Like a good fear? It gives me adrenaline.”
Eddie’s chest vibrates with his laughter. Bright in the otherwise gloomy and dark place Steve’s found himself in. “Don’t you ever stop,” he demands. “I want your love all the time. I’ll tell you if something bugs me, alright? Don’t go assuming. Because I love you, Stevie. I love you so much.”
Steve pulls back, face pointed up at Eddie’s. He matches his soft smile. “I love you, too. Let’s get some pepperoni pizza, though. Because I am fucking hungry.” He squeezes his arms around Eddie. “Hungry for you, too.” And he saunters away.
In return, he hears Eddie shout after him, “You better make do on that! I missed you too much for you to tease me!”
Maybe he should learn to just trust his gut. To just admit what he’s feeling. Because it seems, if he’s honest about it the first time, good things happen in return.
💕—————💕
Gotta be honest, this isn't my best work. I've been feeling pretty mucky recently and nearly didn't have the energy to write. But I think this suffices.
#stranger things#steddie#fanfiction#steve harrington#eddie munson#angst#hurt/comfort#arguing#apologzing#making up#steddielovemonth#day 18
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Serenade
Summary: Eddie Munson/Reader- Soulmate AU where you can hear whatever music your soulmate is listening to
Song is: I just called to say I love you- Stevie Wonder
You’d grown up hearing your parent’s humming songs in secret. Your mother’s voice streaming upbeat pop music and opera ballads; while your father hissed along with the alt-rock and the country drawl he heard in his head. They didn’t need to tell you they weren’t soulmate’s; the music did that for them.
They assured you that while they did love each other, and wanted to meet their soulmate’s, sometimes the world was too big, and the funds too short to get them out of the small town they called home. You worried constantly that Hawkins would trap you the same way it had them; not truly miserable, but never happy enough.
They put you in singing and piano lessons when you’re five, you drop the piano in exchanged for ballet and keep the singing until your parents decided not to drive you to the next town over for lessons; you join the cheerleading squad instead.
You’re soulmate absolutely drowns everything they do in rock music; anything that screams they seem to fixate on. You settle into a mixture of Pop and Dance music that only grows as you join the cheer squad. You enjoy singing; although you try your best to limit it to hours you know both you and your soulmate are awake. Usually they start listening to music around the time you start school, you try not to listen before then, although morning practices usually leave you humming whatever song Chrissy decided to have you all dance to. The music your soulmate listens to seems to constantly stream throughout the day, wherever he goes to school either allows music constantly or he’s sneaking it.
Chrissy laughs when you hum under your breath whatever song your soulmate is listening to.
“So your soulmate is into Metal then? How much do you wanna bet he’s one of the DnD club? Bet Eddie would know him; he knows everyone who’s into metal.” Chrissy grins; genuinely trying to be helpful.
“Well I haven’t met him have I?” You laugh when Jason wrinkles his nose at the song you’ve stopped humming.
———————————————————————————
“Eddie you alright?”
“Mhm; soulmate is listening to some pop shit again.” He laughs a little his soulmates taste in music had grown on him; and he knew they wouldn’t be a bad match; not when he’d tentatively heard a familiar rock song in his head one day, something he had been listening to in middle school.
“Chrissy seriously stop trying to bring Eddie back into the group.” Jason playfully shoves her and she scowls. You watch Eddie walking away and smile at the patch on his jacket.
“He’s our friend Jason!”
“He listens to fucking screaming and calls it music!”
“So does my soulmate.” You comment and Jason glares.
“Y/N you don’t count; Eddie got into DnD ; that cult shit.”
“Have you ever played; I don’t think it’s a cult; we should all go! Show our support.” You smile at Jason, hoping he doesn’t see through your excuse to see Eddie more; you aren’t sure what music he listens to but if you can match up a song it’ll prove the theory you have.
——————————————————————————-
It’s just your luck you managed to catch a weeklong flu when Chrisyy and Jason agree to go play DnD with Eddie.
You trudge in still half sick but coherent enough for your parents to deem you fit to return to school. You wonder how pissed your soulmate is, you’d been marathoning every cheesy movie and every musical you could find while you coughed your lungs up at home. You’re half humming a song from one of them when Chrissy pulls you into a hug.
“Hey no, I’m still kinda sick so I don’t-“
“You really think we care Y/N? You’ve been gone for the most exciting week ever! You were right; Jason loves DnD now; he’s fighting with Eddie to run the next campaign.”
“I will I just have to check about practice this week; do you have-”
“Sorry.” You smile as you bump into someone.
“I’m Y/N, you are?”
“Eddie Munson; you’re the one who missed last session; you’ll have to come to the next one; since Jason’s going to run it. How much you wanna bet he fails.” He winks and you grin at him. You pause wrinkling your nose when your soulmate starts blasting some new song.
“You okay?”
“Yeah my soulmate decided to crank it up to like fifty on the volume apparently. That’s probably what I get considering he had to listen to the cheesy love soundtracks and musical roster all last week.” he laughs along with you.
“Are you alright?” You watch Eddie slump a little when Chrissy leaves.
“Yeah; just; my soulmate has been avoiding me… they always have; guess they hate me as much as my music taste… If I don’t graduate this year; I’m worried I’ll miss out on meeting them.”
“Oh god that must be horrible, can you not talk to them about trying to help you?”
“Well if I knew who they were...”
“Oh, well if they’re here it shouldn’t be too hard to wrangle them to at least say hello right?”
“You’re just as hopeful as Chrissy; guess your soulmate is the same.” He laughs a little, bitter sounding.
“I haven’t met him yet. Not properly.”
“Well we can look together? How do we do that?”
“Well pick out a song for your soulmate and just blast it 24/7, either someone picks it up and realizes they’re your soulmate; or they get so annoyed they find you to complain!!”
“That’s genius! I know just the song! You’re the best Y/N.” Chrissy grins at Eddie who shrugs.
“You’ve just met me.”
“And now you’re the best!”
“I heard Y/N solved your soulmate problem?” Chrissy leans over the DnD table and Eddie scowls, tucking his notes away.
“It’s not a problem, we haven’t met and we can avoid each other until she’s ready to meet.” He scowls.
“Eddie, just try it! All you have to do is pick a song and just blast it to her! Then she’ll either get so annoyed she’ll find you, or we’ll hear her singing it too!”
“So you want me to piss my soulmate off before I meet her?”
“No, pick a song she likes!”
“Wow, yeah hang on let me ask what her favourite song is!” He snaps and you can’t help but laugh.
“Well then pick your favourite? Or something that reminds you of her?” You ask him and he nods.
“Okay fine, I’ll start tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Well yeah after the game meeting so everyone can be on the lookout.” Dustin beams nodding.
“I’m glad I could help then.” You smile at Eddie and try not to blush when he smiles back.
Chrissy arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything as you bid them goodbye.
You’re sitting in the cafeteria after practice trying to not pass out before Chrissy meets you to discuss a new routine.
You’ve only heard your soulmate actually singing about four times, but it’s one of the things that made you fall in love with him. Of course the comfort of his voice is the last thing you need while trying not to fall asleep. You struggle, trying your best to focus on the actual words; you swallow shocked at the song that he’s singing.
You feel dumb for not thinking about how he caught on to your music habits as much as you have for him. You sit still and enjoy the private concert. You wonder if he picked it up from how often you’d sing it; or if it was the time that you would sing and listen to it.
–But what it is, though old, so new To fill your heart like no three words could ever do I just called to say I love you- You hum faintly, careful to not let the sound too far past your lips, you don’t think you want your soulmate meeting you like this, exhausted and caked in sweat and grime.
————————————————————————————
The song has been playing on repeat for days, anytime your soulmate seems to switch to another song he cuts himself off restarting the song once more.
“Hey Dustin, you said you needed help with the sound check?” You watch as Dustin sinks into a chair in the theatre, you smile at Chrissy and Jason, the rest of the DnD gang lounging around, as well as Steve and his friends.
“Can you sing?” Chrissy asks and you nod.
“I’ve been taking singing lessons since I was five, so I like to think I can.” You smile.
“Besides I don’t need to sing for a basic sound check.” Dustin coughs slightly.
“So I do need to sing?”
“Please, just pick something, and sing into the mic.” You nod gripping the mic and letting your soulmate start the song for you.
“ No harvest moon to light one tender August night No autumn breeze, no falling leaves Not even time for birds to fly to southern skies“ You’ve never heard someone harmoinze with you before but the way the voice from your head blends with yours settles the anxiety in your chest.
“I just called to say I love you I just called to say how much I care, I do” You pause when Dustin holds up his hand.
“That’s great.” He nods and you swing off the stage, Chrissy and Jason track your movements and you make your way over to them when they wave.
“What?”
“Your soulmate was singing that wasn’t he.”
“Yeah.”
“You want to meet him?”
“You know him?” Your face lights up and they falter.
“You want to meet him?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well; he’s a a little weird.” Jason cuts in and you frown at him.
“Do you think I care? Wait, does he not want me?” You cant help the ice that shoots through your chest, already planning break-up songs to blast when you get home.
“What no, he’s just nervous. About everything.”
“Why would he be nervous we’re soulmates. I’ll love him no matter what.”
“You mean that?” You nod at Jason.
“Uhh okay dinner at six?” Jason rushes out nodding to you and you nod back confused, as Chrissy almost shoves you to cheer practice with her. You miss the way the rest of the DnD group enter through the side door, Eddie scanning the crowd.
You’d been able to go home early with Chrissy, she’d explained to your parents you were planning on meeting your soulmate and they’d practically shoved both of you upstairs to get ready.
“Do my parents really not trust me to find an outfit to wear?”
“Well you’re meeting your soulmate, you have to look nice.”
“If he’s my soulmate he won’t care what I wear.”
“It’s not about that, imagine you meet him and he’s nothing like what you expect him to be.”
“Chrissy I’ve been listening to his music taste be the same thing since middle school! There’s barely been any change! It took me years to even figure out he was in Hawkins and not some town halfway around the world!!!” Chrissy nods as you throw your hands up.
“You know Jason and I are soulmates right? I had to listen to hours of all the basket ball teams music they train to! So I know a little about that, everyone does.”
“My parents don’t. They couldn’t, they can’t afford to visit to look for their soulmates.” Chrissy pulls you into a hug.
“That’s not you, you have the chance to meet him; why wouldn’t you. Seems even him being a DnD nerd won’t dissuade you.”
“You know him.” Chrissy nods.
“Yes, it’s how we know to meet you.” She smiles and your eyes widen.
“You know him.” You repeat and she nods laughing.
“Come on, don’t want to be late.” She nudges you as you come up to the mall’s doors.
You step through the doors and Jason blocks your view; holding out a blindfold.
“Don’t say anything we’re going to take them off at the same time; it’ll be cute.” You sigh letting him tie the fabric around your eyes and walk you to a booth in the food court, you have no clue who’s sitting in it, it was the only booth away from all of the windows, probably planned by them.
“Okay sit down and in three, two, one.” Chrissy beams and you blink adjusting to the light.
“Thanks for the advice by the way. It really helped.” You look across to see Eddie Munson sitting smiling at you.
“Glad the advice could be of use then.” You try your best not to move your hands aware they’re shaking. You can tell Eddie picks up on his eyebrow quirking.
“My uh, my parents never met their soulmates, so this is a bit of a big deal for me. Oh my god I didn’t tell them, they’re gonna kill me.” You look up to see Eddie laughing.
“What? This is serious!” He shakes his head.
“It’s not like we don’t; we live in a tiny ass town; besides we go to school, I share the only class I’m taking with you. We’re not going to part ways and never see each other. Besides, I’d like to get to know you, before I go meet your parents.”
“There’s not much to know.” Eddie Munson smirks.
“That my dear soulmate is where I beg to differ. You’re my other half. I want to know everything about you.”
“Where do I start?”
“Well what’s your favourite song?” You can’t help but join in his laughter.
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He Helps
Fandom: Venom
Pairings: Symbrock, Anne/Dan
Words: 518
Summary: Dan gets a little too curious for his own good about just how much Venom is there for in Eddie's, uh, personal life. Spoilers: the answer is Venom's always there.
~~~
Eddie shoved another bite of fajitas into his mouth.
This...is not what we need, Eddie.
He rolled his eyes and pulled a bag of M&Ms from his jacket pocket, ignoring the confused looks Anne and Dan were giving him from across the table. He tore open the bag and popped a few, careful to avoid the red ones, before setting the rest on the table by his plate.
"That's a weird addition to Mexican food…" Dan said with an amused voice.
Eddie shrugged.
He has obviously never had molé, not that brains wouldn’t be better.
"Not when your other half is an alien,” Eddie responded around a mouthful of rice. “It's either this or let him bite your head off. I do mean that literally, by the way.”
Dan’s eyes widened and he leaned back in his chair as Anne scowled at him—even as she bit her lip against a smile—and rubbed a comforting hand on Dan’s shoulder.
He would make a tasty snack.
Eddie chuckled. "Down, boy."
I know. Anne would be sad. She would get over it. We would help her.
Eddie hid his smirk behind another bite of fajita.
(AO3)
Dan leaned back over the table, threats of being fed to an alien symbiote forgotten. "So...is Venom really with you right now?"
He could feel Venom's indignation. Of course. Always with you, Eddie.
"I mean...he kind of lives inside me, man." It was more than that.
We are one.
Anne grinned and waved her fingers. “Hi, Venom.”
Tell her to come be with us.
Eddie ignored that.
Dan tilted his head, eyeing Eddie curiously. "So, you never go anywhere without him?”
It hurts.
“He’s clingy like that.”
Take that back!
“What about at the house? What do you do when you—you know...have to do things like shower and stuff? Does he leave for a while?"
Live inside you, Eddie. Why should I not see your outside? Am your skin when it's dry. Why should I not see it wet?
Eddie scoffed. "Yeah, we had that argument a lot in the beginning; but...no, Venom doesn't leave, not anymore."
"Huh. Does he just...go to sleep or something?"
Don't need it. Eddie sleeps. Eddie sleeps and I...think.
“Pervert.”
Maybe.
Dan’s eyes widened. “What?”
Eddie laughed. “Not you. At least, I’m gonna pretend you’re not and try very hard to never think about that again.”
“Oh my god…” Anne put her head in her hands. “Can we please talk about anything else?”
But Dan’s curiosity wouldn’t be deterred. “So...what does he do?”
Help.
Eddie looked down at the table as his mind flooded with images from their shower at home. Black tendrils working shampoo into Eddie’s hair, taking the soap and sponge from Eddie’s hands to scrub his back and all the hard-to-reach places, running over his shoulders and back and legs in soothing relaxing movements beneath the warm spray.
Help, in many ways.
Or sometimes some not so relaxing movements…
Eddie looked back up between Dan’s wide curious eyes and Anne’s knowing expression.
Eddie smirked. “He helps.”
~~~
EDIT: Part 2 is here.
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The One - 1/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: Taking a tiny break from JBF to write this first chap. I just loved the prompt for it so much! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written so far. :)
...
Synopsis: AU - They met two days before her wedding, but it was more than enough time for him to interrupt the ceremony and yell "I object!"
...
Chapter 1 -
In their bedroom in a loft in a sky riser on the east side of town, Iris West – soon to be West-Thawne – thumbed through her summer dresses, debating which one to wear to their welcome party that afternoon.
Eddie, her husband to be, came up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist before kissing her bare shoulder, nothing on her but a lacy pair of bra and panties.
“I love this idea, you know.”
She frowned, still debating between a yellow dress with subtle butterfly pattern and a flowy pink dress that she’d worn the night he’d proposed.
“What idea?”
“Having a weekend wedding.” His chin propped on her shoulder as his fingers drummed over her torso.
“Oh, right. Me too.”
He lifted his chin and tilted his head at her, analyzing her expression curiously.
“You okay, Iris?”
“Hmm?” She turned to look at him, then pulled free of his loose grasp. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m just…torn between dresses, that’s all.”
“Ah.” He took a step back. “Well, if you wear the yellow one, you could wear these.”
She turned to see him opening a black box displaying a pair of drop crystal butterfly earrings. She gasped and placed her fingertips on the box.
“Oh, Eddie, they’re beautiful.”
He grinned, pulling them free of the velvet and handing them to her. She immediately started putting them on.
“You can wear the pink one to the rehearsal dinner.”
She scrunched up her nose and grinned.
“You know, I think I will.”
“It’ll be symbolic,” he commented, stepping back so she could get dressed. She looked at him over her shoulder as she struggled to zip up the back of her dress. He rejoined her and zipped it up carefully.
“Thank you.”
“The night I proposed?”
Butterflies fluttered inside her.
“You remembered,” she gushed, her hand flying to land over her heart.
“How could I forget?” He grinned. “You looked absolutely stunning.”
She turned around and spun once in a circle, letting the yellow skirt fly up a bit and then popping her foot a few inches off the ground.
“You look stunning in that too,” he admitted, then pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her lips. “Flirty too, fun, exciting.”
She pushed him away with a gentle shove and rolled her eyes.
“Alright, Mister, enough of that. We’ll have plenty of that on our wedding night.”
“I have to wait till then?” He pouted.
“It’s two days!” She blanched. “You can wait two days.”
He sighed. “I guess.”
“You can,” she said and slipped into a pair of white heels before moving to exit their bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he asked, following her figure with his eyes, the soft sway of her hips mesmerizing him.
“I have to talk to Linda about the guest list. Not everyone showing up for the wedding is showing up for the weekend, you know.”
“Right, Linda.”
“And what do you have against my best friend?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just…”
She waited.
“Well, she’s never really liked me. Are you sure we shouldn’t have got, I don’t know…a real professional to plan our wedding?”
Iris took serious offense to that.
“Linda is a real professional. She’s had her company up and running for over a year now.”
“No, I know, I know.”
“And she’s dating my brother, so she’s practically family.”
“Right, I’m just saying-”
“She wouldn’t sabotage our wedding either. It’s my wedding too, you know. She wouldn’t sabotage her best friend’s wedding.”
“Even when she doesn’t approve of the groom?” He held his breath.
She sighed testily. “You assume too much. Linda likes you just fine.”
“You want to make a bet on that?” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” She raised one eyebrow.
“Nothing, nothing. You’re probably right. I am analyzing too much. Go have fun.”
She offered him her cheek when he leaned in to kiss her again.
“I am right,” she said. “Now go, get dressed. The party is in just a few hours.”
He looked down at his ensemble.
“I thought I was dressed.”
She pursed her lips to hold in the laughter bubbling up just behind her lips.
“I have to put my make-up on and then I’ll head out.” She paused before glancing at him once and then across the room. “Your shirt and pants are on the bed. Wear your cream shoes.”
He looked over at the bed, then back at her – except she’d gone by then, her heels click-clacking on the bathroom floor. He sighed and looked down at himself again before crossing the room to inspect the outfit she’d chosen for him. He tilted his head to the side.
“I guess it is better. Hmm.”
He started to undress and redress himself. By the time he was finished, he could hear his fiancée exiting the bathroom and heading down the stairs. She probably had her hand on the door now and was seconds away from exiting the loft.
The sound of the door closing seconds later told him he’d been right on the money. He walked over the full-length mirror beside their bed and turned to the side so he could see every angle of his body in the new get-up he was wearing.
The sound of the door opening again caught his attention.
“Iris?” he called out.
“Forgot my phone,” she said, snatching it up and heading back out into the hall. “See you at my dad’s in a few.”
Right. Her dad’s. Another person that he felt hadn’t totally warmed up to him.
This would be one hell of a wedding.
…
Half a country away in a low-rent one-bedroom apartment, Cisco Ramon analyzed his own outfit in the full-length mirror just outside his bedroom. He analyzed his hair mostly, making sure each wave was perfect and brushed his shoulders just so. Unbeknownst to him, his best friend had just exited the bathroom and was approaching him from behind.
“You ready to go?”
Cisco scowled into the mirror when he saw the reflection of his best friend. Then he turned toward him, scowl still in place.
“Plaid? Again? Do you ever wear anything else?”
Barry scoffed, taking offense to that.
“Look who’s talking, Mr. let’s-wear-screen-tees-to-work-every-day.”
Cisco looked affronted by that, but he quickly recovered.
“As you’ll notice, I am not wearing a screen tee today.”
“No, you’re wearing a suit. To the airport.” He deadpanned. Then he stepped back to grab a snack from the fridge. “Don’t you think you should save that for the wedding?”
Cisco’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t think of a response to that, so instead he said,
“Again. Plaid!”
“I’m not wearing it to the wedding, Cisco. I have a suit too. This is just for the airport and the airplane.”
“Long sleeves though?” He scrunched up his nose.
“It’s cold on airplanes. I’m just being prepared.”
Cisco sat down on his couch, letting himself sink into it.
“I guess.”
“I’d really do without the blazer, man,” Barry said around a bite of apple.
“It’s not a blazer. It’s a suit jacket.”
“Even worse.”
Cisco scoffed.
“Don’t you want to be comfortable on the plane? It’s a two-hour flight!”
Cisco hated to admit it, but his less than fashion-savvy friend was making a point.
“I suppose I could opt for a long-sleeved screen tee…”
Barry winked and pointed at him.
“That’s the Cisco I know and love.”
“Though Cynthia never approved of those…” he muttered, looking away and locking eyes with a picture of him and his now ex displayed prettily on the end table. He sighed.
“No,” Barry said. “No, no, no, no, no.”
Cisco turned his head to look at him and pouted.
“No?”
Barry grabbed the picture frame and turned it face down on the table.
“Hey, what did you do that for?” Cisco reached for it and Barry held it away.
“If you turn it up again, I’ll throw it in the trash.”
Cisco gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
Cisco sank back down.
“Fine.”
Barry set it down again, still facedown though.
“You know, I don’t know how you can be so…dismissive of the whole thing.”
“What are you talking about?” Barry asked, returning to his apple.
“I mean, you just got out of a relationship too. Aren’t you…mourning the loss?”
Barry snorted. “No.”
“Not at all? You were together for like five months. You had to have formed a bond of some sort. Don’t you miss it? Her?”
Barry shook his head.
“Nope.”
“Unbelievable.” Cisco shook his head.
Barry had to suppress a laugh.
“It was a mutual break up, Cisco. Patty and I just…weren’t meant to be.”
“I don’t believe that.”
This time Barry did laugh.
“Believe it.”
“But you two had so much in common! And you really liked her. I remember how excited you were for your first date.”
Barry shrugged.
“I’m not saying the relationship wasn’t good. It just ran its course. Patty thought so too. It was getting monotonous. We both wanted more, and not from each other. I don’t know how else to say it.”
Cisco frowned again, his eyebrows fusing together. Barry patted his shoulder.
“You’ll understand one day.”
“I won’t.” He sighed, pushing himself further back into the couch. “Cynthia was the one.”
“Maybe she was just the first one.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been with girls before.”
“But have you ever really been in love? Think about it.”
“Well, I… No, I guess not.”
“Sometimes the first one isn’t the one, if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t.”
Barry chuckled.
“Alright, then. Maybe the two of you will meet up in a few years, and she’ll decide she was an idiot for dumping you and ask for another chance.”
“A few years? I’m supposed to just wait around hoping this happens?”
“Hell, no. Go out, have some fun. Hook up with a bridesmaid at this wedding we’re going to. Forget about her.”
“Barry.”
“I mean it. Distract yourself until you’ve got her out of your system. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. You can only fight for someone for so long until you don’t have any energy left in you for anyone. Even the person who might actually be the one.”
Cisco thought about that.
“When did you get so philosophical?”
Barry grinned.
“It’s a gift.”
Cisco pushed himself up and off the couch, then headed toward his bedroom.
“Alright, just give me a few minutes to get out of this suit and then we can go.”
“That’s the spirit!” Barry cheered. “It’ll give me enough time to finish this apple.” He took another chomp.
“You’re not wearing plaid to the wedding though, right?” Cisco called out.
Barry stopped halfway to his apple and frowned.
“I don’t…think so.”
“Barry!” he warned.
“I’ll go check!”
And off Barry went to where he’d left his suitcase, making sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had something for the wedding his best friend would approve of.
…
Linda had deserted her. To be fair, they had spent the last several hours ago. But something had come up at the hotel, something about some guests not being able to be accommodated there, even though they’d triple-checked the guest list and had about four hotels booked for all of their guests. Linda had been on the move, determined to not let a single box go unchecked for her best friend’s big day.
Iris understood naturally, but now she felt somewhere between bored and overwhelmed at the slew of people coming into her dad’s backyard. Luckily the yard was huge, and it was decorated to the hilt, also including drinks, appetizers and some outdoor games that didn’t require too much effort in case people dressed up.
She had dressed up after all. And Eddie, who had still not made his way past the parted bushes serving as a gate, was going to be dressed up as well. If he wore what she set out of course, which she was fairly certain he would.
If he wasn’t stubborn about it, of course. What she had set out actually matched her ensemble without being too matchy-matchy. And she was wearing his earrings. That had to count for something.
She smiled brilliantly as another slew of people came into the backyard. She greeted them as kindly as she could, almost missing the tall, handsome stranger that trailed in behind them, nearly taking her off-guard.
He waited politely for her to finish greeting the people in front of him before he eagerly took one large step so he was directly in front of her and then held his hand out to her.
“May I?”
Her brows furrowed, confused as to what he meant, but held her hand out to him anyway.
“You may.”
Smiling slyly, he took her hand lightly in his grasp and lifted it to his lips, where he kissed the back gently before returning it to her.
Iris felt butterflies rapidly beat inside her chest and told herself to calm down. Certainly this hadn’t been the first man to act this way around her, but it had been the first one in a while who was looking at her like…well, like he wanted to devour her, to put it plainly.
She cleared her throat.
“Who are you, exactly? I don’t recognize you. Are you on the list?”
She reached for the list left on one of the tables by Linda, but he stood in her way, and she eyed him suspiciously.
“You won’t even let me look?”
He chuckled lightly, and Iris felt shivers ripping down her spine.
“No, uh, it’s not that. It’s just…I’m not on that list.”
She blinked. “You’re not?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
She swayed closer to him, completely oblivious to how flirtatious she was suddenly being.
“So what are you? A party crasher?”
He scrunched up his nose.
“Not that either. I’m a plus one.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side. “Whose plus one?”
She felt a strange sense of jealousy for whatever girl had brought this tall, handsome stranger to her wedding, and where in the world they had found him.
“Cisco Ramon’s.”
That stopped her straight in her tracks.
“Cisco? As in my high school best friend, Cisco?”
“One and the same.”
The voice was different this time, and while Barry didn’t take his eyes off Iris, she took her eyes off him to see her best friend from long ago entering the backyard and approaching them.
“Hey, Iris.” He moved in for a hug, and she warmly embraced him. “I was parking the rental car.”
“Oh, no trouble.” She took a step back and analyzed them both. “You two aren’t… You’re not like…together, are you?”
Both men spoke at once. “No!”
She laughed, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“We are just friends,” Cisco clarified, squeezing Barry’s shoulder. “This is Barry, Barry Allen. I recently uh…me and my girlfriend, we…”
“They broke up,” Barry slid in.
“Barry and his girlfriend broke up too,” Cisco was quick to add, which earned a scowl from Barry.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Iris said sympathetically.
“But not because we’re gay,” Cisco said.
“Definitely not,” Barry added. “We are the least gay men you will ever meet.”
“So straight,” Cisco confirmed.
Iris couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Well.” She cleared her throat. “My two handsome straight men.”
“Yes,” Cisco said.
Barry smiled brilliantly.
“The drinks are over there.” Iris pointed across the yard. “The games are there, and some appetizers are there, there, and there.”
“Ooo, goody,” Cisco cheered, rubbing his hands together.
“I’ll be here if you need me,” she said as they started to walk off. Barry though, was reluctant to do so.
“You sure you don’t need company?”
Cisco tugged on his shirt sleeve roughly.
“I need company. You’re my plus one, remember?”
“Right.” Sending a devilish smile Iris’ way, Barry went with his best friend towards the punch bowl.
“I’ll see you both later,” Iris called, and right as she did, her husband to be finally entered the backyard. “Eddie!” she called, kissing him on the cheek, then muttering under her breath. “What took you so long?” She looked him up and down. “And why are you not wearing what I set out?” She frowned.
“I changed my mind halfway through dressing.” He looked down at himself. “It’s not too bad, is it?”
Iris swallowed whatever angry, irritated words were fighting to come to the surface.
“No, not too. Come, stand with me. We should be together as a unit when people come in.”
“Right, definitely. But uh, I think I’m going to grab some punch first.”
“Eddie, wai-”
But he had left her, and she had to quickly put her fuming to bed as she saw the next slew of people arriving.
“Welcome!” She glowed brightly. “Thank you for coming. How are you…”
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There’s a Bad Moon on the Rise (Ben Hanscom/Reader) (2/3)
Summary: You're Richie's twin sister and a member of the Losers' Club. When the other members all pack up and leave town, you elect to stay behind with Mike to wait for It to come back. After 27 years pass and Pennywise returns, will you and the other Losers be able to finally defeat him?
Pairing: Ben Hanscom/Reader; Richie Tozier & Reader; Background Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak
Word Count: 5.9k
Author’s Note: This is finished at 16k. I decided to split it up into three parts to make it easier. If you enjoy this, then letting me know would make my day! If you’ve seen It: Chapter Two, then you know what you’re in store for regarding warnings...but with the added fun of some canon divergence!
Masterlist / Read on AO3 / Part One
When you got to the Townhouse, you were unsurprised to see that Eddie was practically ready to run out the door and Richie wasn't far behind him. But both seemed to have been brought up short by whatever was going on with Beverly and Ben in the Townhouse's lounge.
You stopped just in the doorway, trading an uncertain look with Richie, before you focused on what they were talking about.
When you realized that Beverly had somehow known the details of Stan's death, you started to wonder what else you were missing.
It wasn't until Bill and Mike arrived and it was revealed that Beverly had seen all of your deaths thanks to her time caught in the deadlights in ‘89 that everyone started to realize there was no fleeing Derry this time. Either you all stayed and killed Pennywise once and for all or none of you would even make it another twenty-seven years to try again.
You were all cursed and doomed to die horrible deaths if Pennywise lived. It seemed your only options were to stay and fight or flee and die.
"Well," you started as you glanced at Mike. "I've waited twenty-seven years in this shitty little town for this moment. I'm in," you told the group with a resolve you mostly felt out of a need for revenge. Revenge for Stan and revenge for the lost years of your life you would never get back. Revenge for the nightmares and incessant fear that had haunted you since you were a child and revenge for all of the children who had lost their lives to Pennywise. Revenge for Georgie and revenge for the grief countless families had endured in Derry because of It.
You met Bill's eyes for a brief moment and noticed he looked just as determined as you felt to finally finish It once and for all.
Once everyone else had agreed to stick around and try to finish the fight, Mike mentioned a ritual he discovered that would be able to kill It. You couldn't help the frown you aimed at him as he explained the Ritual of Chüd. In all the years you had stuck by Mike's side, he had never once mentioned the ritual to you. From the way he was carefully not meeting your eyes, you knew that it was something he had purposefully done. When Bill seemed to support Mike's words, you were helpless to stop the brief moment of jealousy you felt that Mike would trust Bill with that information but not you.
As you trailed at the end of the group on the trek across town, you couldn't help wonder if the ritual would work. There was something that didn't quite add up about the bigger picture, but you weren't sure what it was yet. You needed more details and the only person who could fill those in was Mike.
Going back to the clubhouse was a trip down memory lane you hadn't been aware you needed. You usually avoided the woods, for good reason, but being with the group provided you with the courage you sometimes lacked when you were on your own.
You enjoyed watching the other members uncover old memories until Richie scared you all with his own impression of Pennywise.
"Are you going to be like this the whole time we're home?" Eddie wondered as he glared up at Richie.
Richie rolled his eyes before glancing away. "I was just trying to bring some levity to this shit," he grumbled before he sighed. "Alright, guess I'll go fuck myself, then," he muttered before he ducked under a beam and started rifling through a crate that held a few old comic books and other odds and ends.
"What are we doing here, Mike?" Bill asked as he glanced up from a shelf full of old trinkets that used to belong to the group.
"Yeah, not that I'm not loving the nostalgia of all this, but what's the point?" Richie added with a frown.
"I brought you here because I need you all to remember. If we're going to complete the ritual, then you all need an item. An artifact. Something that's connected to the past and to that summer." Mike explained as he considered everyone in the group.
"Why?" You couldn't help but wonder as you looked around the clubhouse. "What kind of artifact should we be looking for?"
"It's different for all of us, but it has to be something personal. The Ritual of Chüd requires a sacrifice and that sacrifice will be your artifact. I brought us all here, because I thought this might be where we find Stan’s artifact.”
When Eddie pointed out that Bill had already found Stan’s artifact, a shower cap that had been left behind in 1989, you all shared a brief moment of silence as you remembered the thoughtful boy who had insisted wearing the caps would be the only way to prevent spiders from getting in your hair.
Once you all left the clubhouse, Eddie turned to look at Mike. “So, where should we find our artifacts or tokens or whatever?”
“It’s different for all of us, which is why we're going to need to split up."
"Hey, no, fuck that," Richie denied with a quick shake of his head. "Every horror movie ever explains why that's a bad idea."
"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere by myself if I can help it," Eddie was quick to jump in.
"No, it has to be alone," Mike insisted as he glanced from Richie to Eddie. "There are memories that you have to uncover on your own."
"What's left?" Richie asked as he squinted at Mike. "We remember everything from that summer already. We joined forces and fought It and suffered through some shit that years of therapy probably won't help. What else is there?"
"We weren't always together," Mike pointed out as he met your eyes. "There was a point during that summer when we were separated."
"After Eddie broke his arm," you remembered with a frown.
"After the fight," Beverly added with a nod.
"Well, fuck," Richie seethed with a scowl.
From the way Eddie scoffed, you had a feeling he agreed with the sentiment.
“You all need to unlock those memories, because that’s how you’re going find your artifacts. Tokens,” Mike amended with a quick look at Eddie. “And once you have them, we’ll all meet up at the library. We can figure out how to proceed from there.”
Before the group split up, you managed to grab Richie's jacket sleeve to grab his attention. He slowed down until you were walking side-by-side at the edge of the group.
"You alright?" You couldn't help but wonder as you considered your brother. You hated to admit it, but he seemed like the biggest flight risk at the moment. You knew your brother was brave and reckless, but he also didn't seem completely on board with the plan to defeat Pennywise.
"Peachy," he assured you with a grin that was a bit too wide and forced to be anything but fake.
"Richie," you admonished with a tone you hadn't used for years, but clearly told him you weren't going to take any of his bullshit.
"I just..." he trailed off with a frown. "I didn't ask for this. I was fine. I was touring and famous and making so much fucking money." He huffed out a helpless laugh before he raked his fingers through his hair. "But it was lonely and now I know why. But we're already down one man and any one of us might fucking be next. Why the fuck would I want to stick around for that? Why should any of us?"
You considered your brother for a few moments before you spoke. "You could leave," you conceded with a nod. "But you'd never forgive yourself if you weren't here and something went horribly wrong. Besides, if we don't defeat Pennywise this time, then we're all dead."
"Gee, you really know how to console a guy. I can't even imagine why you're still single," Richie muttered before wincing when you reached out to shove him.
"Fuck off," you grumbled. Your eyes met his and it wasn't long before you were both laughing, falling back into the familiar comradery you had enjoyed all those years ago.
"Fuck," Richie sighed before he threw an arm around your shoulders. "You know what your token is yet?"
"Don't laugh," you warned as you bumped into him. You knew exactly what your token would be and while it would hurt to depart with it, you knew that if it meant getting rid of Pennywise, then you would sacrifice just about anything to ensure the safety of the others. You wouldn't lose anyone else. Not after you had already lost Stan.
You reached into the pocket of your jacket and pulled free the red bit of sponge you usually kept there before placing it on your nose.
"Holy shit," Richie got out on an incredulous laugh. "You still have that? Why the fuck are you just carrying it around like that?"
You felt a grin tug at your lips before you pulled off the clown nose Richie had gifted to you during the summer of '89. "It might have been the worst gift idea ever, but it meant a lot to me."
You weren't even sure why you were stumbling around the woods near the barrens all by yourself. If anything had become clear since Pennywise appeared in your life, it was that you really shouldn't go anywhere alone.
You were just so tired of being afraid all the time. Now, with the group split up, you had begun to worry that the search for Georgie had fallen by the wayside. You knew, deep down, that Bill's little brother was probably dead, but you didn't want to give up until Bill gave up.
So, when you couldn't stand to be inside your house any longer and Richie had ignored your request for his company, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You didn't even really think you would be able to find Georgie, but you couldn't help but hold out a tiny bit of hope that you would still find the kid lost out in the woods.
You weren't really looking where you were going when you stumbled over a root that had twisted up out of the ground. You flung an arm out, barely catching yourself on the trunk of the tree next to you, before you kicked uselessly at the root.
When you glanced up, you noticed you were no longer alone.
"Oh, poor little Y/N, all alone in the woods," Pennywise crooned with a malevolent grin that sent a chill down your spine. "No one wanted to play with you, Y/N?"
"Fuck off," you struggled to say as you willed yourself to move. Your feet stayed planted, though. You wanted to turn and run away, but your body wouldn't let you. You were frozen with fear.
"I'll play with you, Y/N," Pennywise promised as he took one step closer to you. "You'll never be alone as long as your old pal Pennywise is around."
All you could think about was Georgie and Betty Ripsom and Eddie Corcoran. Was this the last face they saw before meeting a cruel fate? Did they all fall into their gruesome demise just after seeing that wide, menacing grin and those glowing, yellow eyes?
"Time to float," Pennywise said in a deep, guttural voice that seemed to be the catalyst for your feet to finally unstick themselves from the forest floor.
You turned and made a run for it. You could hear Pennywise's laugh following you as you attempted to flee. Something sharp caught on the back of your shirt and you tripped over another root, sprawling on the ground. You hissed when your palm scraped over tree bark on the way down, but you didn't care. You scrambled to find purchase again with your feet, nearly slipping in your quest to keep running as far and as fast as you could manage.
"You'll float too," you heard Pennywise promise from just behind you. You could just imagine that he was right on your heels now, his hands always outreached and ready to grab you. "You'll all float," he continued in that same dangerous and lilting tone that never failed to freak you out.
You were so sure that Pennywise would catch up to you. You thought that you would be a goner. You were sure your body would be found chewed up and bloody or that you would never be found again. But then you saw a glimpse of the road through the trees blocking your path and you hurried towards it, feeling like your chest was going to cave in with every harsh breath you forced past your lips.
You felt relief when you finally made it out to the road. You weren't sure how you had managed to get so turned around out in the woods, but when you realized that you were even farther out than you normally cared to venture, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with fear at what almost happened to you.
You didn't allow yourself to stop running until you were home. Your palms were bleeding and while you were trying to cut across a back yard to make your trip shorter, you had managed to skin your knee when you tripped over a kid's tricycle.
You were exhausted and bleeding and terrified as you finally crashed through the front door of your house. Your parents weren't home, which wasn't much of a surprise, but Richie was sitting on the couch in the living room.
"What the fuck happened to you?" He asked as he jumped up from the couch and moved towards you.
You flinched away from him before waving him off and heading for the hallway. "Stupid fuckin' clown," you muttered as you stormed into your room. You grabbed a clean t-shirt and shorts, ignoring Richie calling your name as you locked yourself in the bathroom.
You were barely aware of the fact that your hands were shaking as you moved to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. All you could see when you closed your eyes was Pennywise and his stupid grin and those fingers that could just as easily turn into claws. You met your eyes in your reflection and forced yourself to take deep breaths.
You couldn't be scared, you told yourself, because then Pennywise would have won.
When you finally got yourself to calm down, you stepped into the shower, intent on getting clean and trying to erase every trace of dirt and blood off of you. It felt like if you could just wash it all away, then you could make yourself forget about what happened in the woods. Even though you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t as simple as that.
By the time you made it back to your room, you had cleaned and bandaged the worst of the cuts you suffered. Now, all you wanted to do was lie down and sleep away the exhaustion you felt.
Your plans were derailed when you got to your bedroom to see Richie sitting on the edge of your bed and waiting for you.
"I'm not in the mood," you growled as you brushed past him.
"Hey, come on," Richie coaxed as he reached out to grab your arm. "What the fuck is going on?"
You bit your lip, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes, before you managed to finally look at Richie. "I saw Pennywise," you admitted with a grimace. "He chased me out near the barrens."
"Fuck," Richie hissed before he tugged you down to sit next to him. "But you're okay?"
"For the most part," you told him before you showed him the scrapes on your palm. "He just scared me more than anything."
Richie frowned down at your hand before he glanced back up at you. "We've got to kill that stupid clown," he muttered with a sigh. "Before it gets one of us for good."
You knew without him having to say anything that he was thinking of the way that Eddie had broken his arm at Neibolt. He was thinking of his own one-on-one encounter with Pennywise and the Paul Bunyan statue that had suddenly come to life and terrorized him not long ago. You remembered the way Richie's hands wouldn't stop shaking and the way he kept looking over his shoulder, as if he thought Pennywise or the statue would come back to finish the job.
"He'll be okay," you found yourself telling Richie. "We all will," you quickly amended when you noticed Richie's face grow pale as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
Richie scoffed before he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled something out. "I got you a present," he told you before he turned away and placed something on his nose. When he turned back around, you saw an imitation red clown nose fixed onto his. "What do you say, Y/N? Do I look the part?" He asked as he batted his eyelashes at you.
You couldn't help but snort at your ridiculous brother. "Really? Why the hell would you buy that with everything going on? I thought you hated clowns."
Richie shrugged his shoulders before he pulled the fake clown nose off. "I thought it was funny at the time. Wanted to see if you'd get a kick out of it. I thought it might make you laugh." He reached out and placed the red spongey ball on your nose, a pleased smirk on his face. "And I do really fucking hate clowns, but you're my sister, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I'll even kick Bill's ass if he breaks your heart."
"So, what? Am I supposed to kick Eddie's?"
You noticed Richie wince before he ducked his head. He looked so uncertain in that moment that you couldn't help but feel guilty for making him think that he had to be that way around you. That he thought he had to hide who he really was around you.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled before he started picking at a loose thread on your comforter.
"Richie," you whispered before reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist. "I know." It didn't take much for you to figure it out. After one night when you were both bored and had decided to play truth or dare, Richie had admitted to having a crush on a friend. It wasn't long before you connected the dots and saw the bigger picture. "I know," you repeated with what you hoped was a reassuring tone.
Richie was silent for a few worrying moments before he finally met your eyes. "Do you hate me?"
"Never," you immediately told him. "You're my brother. My twin. We're in this together, right?"
Richie watched you for a moment, as if he thought you were trying to pull one over on him, before a smile slowly stretched across his face. "Right," he agreed with a nod. He reached out and squeezed the clown nose still resting atop yours. "Guess we're both just a couple of clowns, huh?"
"God, I still can't believe you have that piece of shit," Richie mused as he reached out to take it from you. "It held up really well. I guess the fifteen cents was worth it."
You rolled your eyes before taking it back from him. "Do you know what you're looking for?" You asked him as you started trailing after the others.
Richie frowned before you noticed a distant look in his eyes. "Yeah," he muttered with a displeased look on his face. "I've got a good idea about where I need to go."
It wasn't long before everyone went off in search of their tokens. You managed to stall Mike, needing to have a few words with him before he left to go to the library.
"What the fuck, Mike?" You hissed when you had him alone. "All these years and you never once mentioned the ritual or tokens or anything."
"Look, Y/N, I'm sorry," Mike started, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. "I was worried. There are things that have to come together in order for this to work and I didn't want you to leave me if you knew what it required."
You studied Mike carefully for a moment, knowing that there was something he was hiding. "What else aren't you telling me? What have you left out?"
Mike sighed before he glanced away from you. "We just have to do this ritual and then Pennywise will be gone forever. Then we'll be free, Y/N," he said as he met your gaze again. "No more waiting and no more Derry. We can leave and no one else has to die because of It. Not in twenty-seven years or ever again."
You had so many questions you wanted to ask him. Why did he trust Bill over you? Why was this ritual your only hope? Was it dangerous? Would it kill any of you? If you had to sacrifice a piece of your past, then would you have to sacrifice anything else?
None of those questions ended up making it out of your mouth, though. "I guess that's something worth fighting for," you admitted with a sigh.
"It is," he readily agreed before he offered you a tentative smile, as if silently asking if you forgave him for keeping the ritual from you. "Are you coming with me to the library?"
"No," you answered. "Knowing my brother, he might try to bolt again. I'll wait for him at the Townhouse."
"Good idea," Mike conceded with a helpless laugh before he nodded at you. "See you later, Y/N."
You decided to take the more scenic route through town on the walk back to the Townhouse. You weren't really all that eager to get back and deal with everything you didn't really want to face, so you figured you were owed at least a few minutes to yourself.
You didn't really count on literally running right into Ben just outside the high school.
"Fuck," you blurted as you bumped into someone and then struggled to regain your footing.
"Shit. I'm so sorry," you heard someone say as hands wrapped around your waist to steady you.
You glanced up to see Ben standing close to you, a sheepish smile on his face. "I guess I wasn't looking where I was going," you admitted with a grimace. "Sorry about that."
"It's fine," Ben quickly assured you. “I wasn’t really looking either.”
It took you a moment to realize that you were still standing on the sidewalk, remarkably close to Ben, with his hands on your waist. You could feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of your shirt and couldn't help the blush that stained your cheeks. When you glanced up at Ben, you noticed he was blushing too once he finally realized he was still holding onto you.
"Oh, uh, sorry," Ben got out as he took a few faltering steps away from you.
"It's okay," you told him with what you hoped was an easy smile. You didn't want to admit that you had forgotten for one moment why you were so scared and ill with worry. You didn't want to admit that maybe your childhood crush on Bill had been traded for something that felt a bit more real with Ben. "Are you okay?" You made yourself ask in an attempt to change the course of the conversation. "You seemed to be in a rush," you pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, yeah," Ben said with a nod. "I was just doing what Mike wanted us to do," he added with a wince. "It didn't exactly bring up the greatest memory."
"Want to talk about it?" You couldn't help but offer, remembering the days when you and Ben would both bond over your hopeless crushes on other members of the Losers' Club. You remembered the way he pined for Beverly, hoping that she would one day return the affection he felt for her. Unfortunately, your crush and Ben's crush seemed to have a crush on each other. You had spent many moments during your childhood assuring Ben that he deserved the love and attention he so desperately sought from Beverly.
"Not right now. What about you? Did you find what you needed?"
"Oh, yeah. I already had it on me," you confessed with a relieved laugh. "Something had to be easy for once, right?"
"Right," Ben agreed with a grin. "You heading back to the Townhouse?" He asked with a nod down the sidewalk, silently prompting you to start walking in the direction of the inn.
"Yeah. I don't trust that Richie won't still make a run for it, so I'm willing to go so far as slashing his tires if that's the case."
Ben let out a surprised laugh before he bumped his arm companionably into yours as you walked. "I bet you missed him, huh? God, I can't even imagine. You and Mike sacrificed so many years of your lives just to make sure we didn't forget to come back."
"I did miss him, yeah, but I missed all of you. You all became my family that summer. But it wasn't so bad, because I had Mike. He kept me here every time I thought I might want to run as far and as fast as I could to get away from this place."
"It couldn't have been easy," Ben said as you drew to a stop just outside the Townhouse. "I know the others might not say it, but thanks."
"For what?" You couldn't help but wonder.
"For staying. If we do this, kill It, then we won't all die horrible deaths later on. We have you and Mike to thank for that."
"We still got Stanley killed," you couldn't help but point out. "If Mike had never called him, then maybe he would still be alive."
"Mike said it only works if we're all together," Ben argued with a shake of his head. "I'd give anything to have Stan here with us, but what happened to him is not your fault and it's not Mike's. You couldn’t have known."
You weren't really sure how to respond. The guilt that still sat heavily on your shoulders had you convinced that it very much was your fault. You gestured towards the Townhouse with a wry grin. "Want to go see who else has made it back?"
"Sure," Ben agreed, allowing you to dodge the subject.
When you got inside, it was to see that Beverly was the only one to have returned. You caught the brief look of longing on Ben's face when he saw her and decided to give him a break. You pretended like you had to check on something upstairs and retreated to an empty room as you tried to ignore the brief flare of jealousy you felt at seeing Ben look at Beverly like that. You told yourself that you had to stop having crushes on other Losers as you set about remaking the bed in an attempt to keep busy.
You weren't really sure how long you were supposed to stay upstairs, but when you heard a door slam down the hall, you left the room to make sure everything was okay. You found Ben rushing up towards the second floor, a determined look on his face.
"What's going on?"
"Richie," Ben explained as he nodded towards the closed door of Richie's room.
"Shit," you hissed before you moved over towards Richie's room. You knocked on the door before opening it and barging into the room.
"For fuck's sake, Y/N," Richie groaned as he continued to hastily pack his bag. "I could have been naked."
"You can't leave, Richie," you insisted as you took a step closer to him. "I know it's what you want to do, but you have to stay."
"I don't have to fucking do anything," he argued as he kept packing. "I'm getting the fuck out of here and if you were smart, you'd come with me."
"You can't just leave us, Richie," Ben cut in, his brows furrowed. "We need you. Y/N needs you," Ben tried with a grimace, as if he knew he was playing dirty and couldn't really help it.
Richie shot Ben a glare over his shoulder before his eyes landed on you. He considered you for a moment before he rolled his eyes. "Fuck. Fine." He took a deep breath before he scowled down at his half-packed bag. "Could you two leave? I just need a moment."
You narrowed your eyes at Richie, sure that he was still intent on leaving, but you felt Ben tug on your arm. "We'll be right downstairs if you need us," he promised with a nod of his head.
You let Ben lead you out of the room and towards the staircase. "I'm still not convinced he's staying," you muttered to him.
"We've done what we can for now," Ben reasoned as he took the first few steps down towards the first floor.
You almost bumped into him when he suddenly froze on the stairs, his breath hitching in surprise. When you chanced a glance over his shoulder, you were shocked to see Bill and Beverly kissing.
You expected to feel a little jealous that your childhood crush was obviously still not into you, but you realized you didn't feel much of anything except for concern for Ben. You reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him back up the stairs and into the empty room you had escaped to earlier.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," you told Ben with a grimace.
"It's okay," Ben sighed as he dropped down onto the edge of the bed. "I should have seen it coming."
"I'm sure it didn't mean anything," you tried to console him as you sat down next to him.
Ben let out a tiny, rueful laugh and shook his head. "You know, I always knew it was a lost cause, but I never wanted to let myself see it. I guess I look pretty foolish, huh?"
"No," you told him with a firm shake of your head. "You never have."
Ben's lips quirked up in a self-deprecating grin before his shoulders slumped in what looked a lot like defeat. "The more time I spend here, the more I'm starting to realize that I need to let things go. Not just my childhood fears, but maybe my childhood crush as well. Maybe it’s been holding me back all this time."
You winced at the thought of Bill kissing Beverly and how that would have absolutely devastated you when you were younger. "Yeah, I'm starting to come to that realization for myself as well."
Ben glanced to you, confusion clear in his expression, before he seemed to recall your crush on Bill. "Shit, Y/N, I'm sorry. I guess we're both in the same boat."
"A little," you agreed with a laugh. "But the more I think about it, the more I realize that I've left those feelings in the past. Maybe there was a tiny glimmer of hope when Bill mentioned he was fresh from a divorce, but it was never going to be me. And I'm okay with that. Really," you assured Ben when he shot you a dubious look. “I’m more worried about you right now than myself,” you admitted as you reached out to pat him on the shoulder.
"You were always there for me, you know," he said with a small, sincere smile on his face. “I remember that now. Remember when I was so upset when Beverly left town? You came to my house and we danced to New Kids until we wanted to puke.” His smile turned fond as he seemed to be thinking about all of the time you spent together as kids.
You felt a little thrill when you realized he was feeling fond because of you. It was followed swiftly with the sinking feeling in your gut at the acknowledgement that Ben still had feelings for Beverly. It seemed like you were destined to always chase the members of the Losers' Club who had crushes on Beverly.
"Even when I wasn't always there for you," he continued with a frown. "I don't think I would have made it through that summer without you to help get me through it."
"You would have been fine," you reassured him with a careful grin as you bumped your shoulder into his. "You're Ben Handsome. You can do anything."
He gifted you with another smile, but you weren't quite sure what this one meant. It was one you weren't used to seeing directed at you and before you could try to figure it out, you were startled by the sound of Eddie yelling and Beverly screaming.
You jumped up from the bed and rushed from the room to see Eddie fall to his knees just outside his room. He was bleeding from a gash in his cheek, a look of shock on his face when he looked at you and Ben. "Bowers is in my room," he said before he managed to practically collapse down onto the floor.
Beverly was already kneeling in front of him, taking stock of his wound, while Ben quickly brushed past you and into Eddie's room.
"Is it bad?" You heard Eddie ask as you followed after Ben, not wanting him to face Henry Bowers alone, especially if Henry was armed.
You couldn't believe that with everything else going on, you had managed to forget about the childhood bully who had been locked up for the past twenty-seven years. You remembered the whispers around town after it was discovered that Henry had killed his father. He had babbled on and on about a clown and red balloons and you knew that Pennywise was partly to blame. You couldn't help but wonder if Pennywise had freed Henry Bowers from the institution as another way of messing with the Losers' Club. After all, Pennywise and Henry did seem to have a common enemy.
"He's gone," Ben told you when he realized you had followed him. "Must've jumped out the window."
"Fuck," you groaned, knowing that Henry was likely going to go after someone else now. None of you were really safe as long as he was wandering around town and armed. "We've got to help Eddie and then we should get to the library. I don’t think that’s the last we’ve seen of Henry."
When you got back out into the hallway, it was to see Beverly trying to help Eddie stand.
"Sorry about the blood, Y/N," Eddie said as he let Beverly lead him back into his room. "That's going to be a bitch to get out."
"It's fine, Eds," you assured him before you moved to leave the room. "I'll be right back," you called before you quickly hurried downstairs in search of a first aid kit.
It wasn't until after Ben had done his best to patch Eddie up that you realized there was something wrong. Someone was missing from the group.
"Where's Bill?" You asked with a frown as you glanced to Beverly. "I thought he was here."
"He left," she admitted with a wince. "He thinks that kid from the restaurant is in trouble. The one who knew your brother? He left before I could stop him."
When Beverly mentioned your brother, you realized what else was wrong.
"Oh shit," you groaned. "Where the fuck is Richie?"
#it: chapter two#it 2019#ben hanscom#richie tozier#ben hanscom x reader#reader & richie tozier#richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak#reader insert#it#it imagine#the losers club#the losers x reader#canon divergence#reader
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For Evan Buckley Week: Day Five! I saw comfort in the prompt and immediately thought of the Buckley parents and Buck’s relationship with them vs. the Firefam so enjoy Buck’s childhood trauma
Prompt: “You’re a good liar” + comfort
Buck’s morning started out pretty nicely. He’d woken up, gone through his morning routine, and headed off to work with enough time to be able to stop by the new café that had popped up not too far from the station. He and Hen had been talking about stopping in there sometime, but Buck wasn’t exactly known for his immediate alertness after waking up- when he was on a long shift at work being an exception to that rule. He’d decided to just go ahead and grab coffee for everyone, knowing their usual coffee orders and preferences by heart already.
So he had a spring to his step when he walked into the station with the coffee carrier balanced in one hand and his duffle bag in the other. He changed into his uniform quickly and was whistling as he hopped up the last few stairs into the loft.
“Someone’s awfully chipper this morning,” Chimney said from where he was glaring daggers at how slowly their coffee maker was spitting out coffee.
“I don’t know, I’ve just got a good feeling about today,” Buck said with a shrug before setting down the coffee carrier. “They’re all marked. I picked them up for everyone on the way in,” Buck said and snagged his and Eddie’s cups from the carrier before taking a step back.
“Have I told you that I love you?” Chimney asked and Buck let out a bright laugh as Chimney and Hen came over to grab their own cups.
“Not recently, no,” Buck said and grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. “Should I be telling my sister that you’ve decided to try your luck with the other Buckley?”
Chim snorted as he lifted his drink out of the carrier. “In your dreams, Buckaroo,” Chimney teased before taking a sip.
“Every night,” Buck teased back with a cheeky wink that had Chimney and Hen laughing despite the previous early-morning funk that had been settled over them.
“This from the new place?” Hen asked as she just held onto the paper cup with a content smile.
“Yeah,” Buck said and moved to sit at the table so he could stretch out his leg. He settled Eddie’s cup in the open spot next to him and took another drink of his coffee. “Thought since I had some time I could swing by and pick up something.” Buck frowned as he looked around. “Bobby not in yet?”
“He’s in his office,” Hen said with a nod towards that direction. Buck nodded and he stood, leaving his and Eddie’s coffees on the table, before grabbing Bobby’s and heading into his office.
Bobby was on the phone- his office phone- when Buck came in, so Buck just settled the coffee onto the desk with a small smile. Bobby gave him a short nod and smile in response before he had to turn back to the conversation on the other end of the line.
Buck walked out and he grinned to see Eddie was up in the loft now, sitting beside the chair Buck had been in just a minute before, as he chatted with Hen. Buck made his way over and sat back down, nudging Eddie’s cup closer silently. Eddie grinned, glancing at Buck for a moment, before keeping up with the thread of his and Hen’s conversation.
Bobby had come out of his office and was about to start breakfast when the bell rang with a call. They all hopped up and made their way down to the truck, ready to start their day.
…..
Buck was washing the soot from his face and trying in vain to get the ash out of his hair when his cellphone started buzzing in his pocket. He dried his hands quickly and tugged it from his pocket, frowning when a number he only vaguely recognized lit up his screen. He thumbed the accept button and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Evan.” Buck nearly dropped his phone into the sink at hearing his mother’s voice. He felt like his blood had frozen in his veins. The casualness to his mother’s tone made Buck’s skin crawl. She was acting like they talked every day instead of the huge gaps that could span nearly a year. “I was calling on behalf of your father.” Buck felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t make himself speak. But it didn’t matter because his mother’s voice bulldozed along. “He’s been sick, son. He wants to see you and Madeliene.”
“I can’t just pick up and go to Hershey. I have a job,” Buck said and scrubbed a hand over his face.
“And what if he’s dying?” His mother asked sharply and Buck flinched despite knowing that there was no way that a blow could come across the phone. “You wouldn’t come see your dying father, Evan?”
“That’s not what I said,” Buck protested weakly. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his head.
“You should come home and see him,” Buck’s mother said firmly before abruptly hanging up the phone. Buck took a shaky breath as he listened to the dull tone at the other end of the line. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.
“Whoa, sorry, Buck. Bobby sent me to come get you so he could show you how to cook something other than eggs,” Chim said and held up his hands. He glanced over Buck’s face as Buck hastily shoved his phone into his pocket. “Everything okay?”
Buck let out a laugh that was just a little flat and put on a huge smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He bumped his shoulder against Chimney’s like he normally would. “I should go help Bobby, wouldn’t want my cooking skills to get rusty.” He stuck his tongue out playfully at Chimney despite the way his stomach was roiling.
“It’s pretty hard to fuck up eggs,” Chimney laughed and gave him a brotherly shove. “Go on, then. Just don’t burn anything, alright? I’m pretty hungry.”
“Got it,” Buck said before heading upstairs to the loft so he could help Bobby out. He forced himself to act normal despite the block of ice that had settled in his stomach, slowly leaking out so that all he felt was cold and vaguely numb.
He was right in the middle of listening to Eddie telling a story about Christopher’s science class, when his phone rang again. He hesitantly pulled it out of his pocket but was relieved to see Maddie’s name. “Sorry, it’s Maddie,” Buck said to Bobby before stepping away from the kitchen and heading outside to take the call. “Hey,” Buck said once he’d accepted the call and was standing behind the station, his back pressed against the rough brick.
“Did she call you?” Maddie asked, her voice a little worried.
“Yeah,” Buck breathed out and closed his eyes. “She did.”
“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Maddie said and Buck shook his head.
“It’s not your fault.” Buck sighed. “So what do you want to do?” He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. There was a long silence between them.
“I don’t know,” Maddie whispered. They both sat on the line for a little bit, not really talking. “You’re on a shift, I should let you go. We can… maybe we can talk it over tonight?”
“It’s movie night tonight,” Buck said, not willing to let his parents disrupt the one thing that brought him more happiness than anything else: the Diaz boys. “But tomorrow.”
“Alright.” Maddie told him goodbye and he echoed it back a little hollowly before hanging up and letting his head fall back with a thud.
He took a few more moments to compose himself before he put on his normal friendly smile and bounded back up to the loft to finish helping Bobby.
…..
Chimney scowled over at Buck as Buck was prying open the door of an SUV in their third car crash of the day. They’d been at back-to-back calls since right after actually getting to eat lunch and they were all starting to feel the strain of it.
“I thought you said you had a good feeling about today,” Chimney murmured as he stepped in to check the vitals of the driver.
“It’s not an exact science, Chim,” Buck said as he hefted up the jaws and moved to go over to the other car where Eddie was shoving all his weight onto the crowbar to little effect. He pushed away the tinny version of his mother’s voice on the phone, he didn’t have time to think about any of that. “Need a hand?” Buck asked and Eddie huffed out a laugh before Buck passed the jaws off to him and went to go and help Chim and Hen get the patient from the SUV and onto the waiting gurney.
“Cap’s already radioed for another ambulance, but we’ve gotta go,” Hen said and patted Buck’s shoulder once they’d loaded up their patient and Buck had closed the doors.
“Sure thing,” Buck nodded and he jogged over to where Eddie had extracted the other driver. Eddie was going over his injuries and doing what he could with his limited supplies, but something about the picture made Buck freeze up. A man dying. A man that vaguely- if you squinted a little- resembled his father. Eddie’s head jerked up and he pointed at the car.
“There’s a kid in the back seat,” Eddie said firmly, and Buck jerked into action and walked over to see the little girl still in her booster seat but surrounded by glass and twisted metal. Buck was surprised that she wasn’t more hurt, but she looked absolutely petrified.
“Hey,” Buck said after he’d managed to wiggle his way through the blown-out window so he could get a good look how to get her out. “My name is Buck, what’s your name?” Buck asked gently as he twisted to see if he could get to the seatbelt.
“Leah,” she said with tears streaking down her cheeks and making her voice tremble.
“I’m going to get you out of here, alright?” Buck made sure to keep his voice even and calm as he tried to pull the seatbelt from the latch. He frowned a little when he was sure she couldn’t see his face and then put a smile as he ducked into her line of sight. “I need to run out and grab some shears to cut you out of here, can you be brave for just one more minute?” She looked unsure as she curled her fingers into the arm of his turnout jacket. “You’ve already been so brave, Leah. I promise you I’m coming right back.”
“Okay,” she said and her voice wavered as she slowly eased her grip on Buck’s coat.
Buck crawled out through the same window he’d come in and ran to the truck to get the things he needed. “What’s the situation?” Bobby asked, joining Buck on his jog back to the car.
“Young girl trapped in her booster seat. I got in through the window, but I’m not sure she can come out that way. There’s too many broken edges of glass and metal.” Buck reported.
Bobby looked over the car and then clapped Buck on the back. “Let’s break out that back windshield and I’ll lay down my jacket so you can hand her off.”
So once Buck had gotten her cut out of her booster seat, he covered her with his turnout jacket while Bobby broke the window and laid out his own coat. Buck lifted her carefully and together he and Bobby got her out and handed off to the paramedics.
“Good job,” Bobby said and clapped a hand down on Buck’s shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Buck felt a small flicker of pride at Bobby’s obvious approval. It quickly soured when Eddie joined them without any hint of a smile on his face. “Let’s pack up and get out of the officers’ way,” Bobby said, sensing the obvious shift in atmosphere. The police had shown up to document the crash and talk to the by-standers.
They did so in total silence and the ride back to the station was stilted until Eddie spoke, “That little girl’s dad is probably gonna be DOA.” His voice was mostly hollow but Buck could hear the undercurrent of anger in it. It made him squirm a little uncomfortably in his seat.
“I’m sure you did everything you could, Eddie,” Buck said and he wanted to reach out, but he could see the tense set of Eddie’s shoulders and knew his partner wouldn’t appreciate the touch, and Buck wasn’t sure he was completely up to the task of giving comfort.
“Sometimes, calls just can’t go our way,” Bobby said firmly, though there was a gentleness to the way it was phrased.
“She couldn’t have been any older than Christopher,” Eddie said with a scowl.
Buck bit his lip at that, unsure of what else to say. “We can’t take it personally,” Bobby said. “We’ve got to do what we can, when we can, and let the rest go. You did your best and that’s all that anyone can expect from you.” Eddie’s shoulders slumped a little but he didn’t seem any more relaxed than he had been when his shoulders had been up around his ears.
“Right. Thanks, Cap.”
Buck repressed a flinch at the clipped tone of Eddie’s voice. He turned his face out the window and tried desperately not to grimace.
…..
Buck felt like most of the tension from the shift and his unexpected phone call melted away the second he pulled into the driveway of the Diaz household. He’d picked up beers for him and Eddie and popcorn for Christopher. He was smiling as he opened the door to the house and stepped inside.
“Buck!” Christopher’s shout caught Buck somewhat off-guard and he flinched and nearly dropped the bag in his hands. Christopher didn’t seem to notice as he threw his arms around Buck’s waist and hugged him tightly.
“Hey, Chris,” Buck said and ruffled Christopher’s hair gently. He handed the stuff in his hand off to Eddie, who frowned a little as he took Buck in, before nudging at Chris’s shoulders playfully. “You going to let me actually get inside, buddy?” Buck asked with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” Christopher said and he dropped his arms from around Buck’s middle and he shuffled backwards to give Buck room to tug off his shoes and close the door behind him. “I picked a really good movie,” Christopher said with a huge grin that was already making Buck feel infinitely better.
As the night went on, Buck got sucked into the familiar comfort of a movie night sandwiched between Christopher and Eddie. He helped clean up as Eddie flitted between the mess they’d made in the living room and where Christopher was getting ready for bed. Buck was rinsing out the beer bottles while Eddie read Christopher his bedtime story when he found himself zoning out a little. Not necessarily thinking about anything, just drifting.
“Hey,” Eddie said, breaking Buck out of it, as he leaned his hip against the sink. “It’s pretty late, you wanna just take the guest room?” Eddie offered. Buck cracked a smile and nodded.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m beat.” Buck pushed a damp hand through his hair before rubbing at his temples.
“Go ahead and get some sleep, I can finish up with these,” Eddie said and bumped their shoulders together.
“Thanks,” Buck said and he shuffled his way down the familiar path to the guest room. He folded up his jeans and settled them on side table beside the lamp before slipping under the sheets. He thought that after everything that happened today he’d have trouble sleeping, but he must have been more tired than he’d thought because sleep came easily.
…..
When he woke up it wasn’t in Eddie’s guest room but his childhood bedroom in Hershey. He remembered the blank light blue walls with the navy curtains and cool brown dresser set, none of which he’d had any say in. He shuddered as he sat up and the flat grey sheets pooled around his waist.
He tossed the sheets aside and went over to the mirror that was hanging on the wall and he sucked in a sharp breath as he took in his reflection. He was younger than he’d been when he’d gone to sleep. He took in the soft curls and lack of any hint of stubble as well as how small he was. He looked like he had when he was sixteen and he felt something inside him tremble in fear.
There was a polite knock on the door before his mother, the same colored curls as his own framing dark eyes like Maddie’s, poked her head in. “Evan, if you don’t quit lazing around you’re not going to be able to have breakfast before practice.” He glanced at the corner of his dresser where his track uniform and shoes were sitting, just like always.
“How did I get here?” Buck asked and his voice was shaking.
“What do you mean?” His mother asked, taking a step into his bedroom, her hand perched on her hip perfectly. “You live here, sweetheart.”
“No,” Buck shook his head. “I live in L.A. I moved there years ago.” Buck sucked in a harsh breath and blew it out, continuing before he lost the thread. “I’m a firefighter with the 118 under Captain Bobby Nash. I work with Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, and Eddie Diaz.” Buck squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears burning at the corners. “Maddie is with me because she finally left Doug.”
There was a pause and Buck opened his eyes, praying that he would have woken up, but his mother was still standing there and he was still in his room in Hershey. His mother took a step forward and cradled Buck’s face between her hands. “Oh, honey,” she said softly and stroked his hair back from his face. “You’re such a good liar. But you know we don’t allow that kind of behavior to happen under this roof.” Her perfectly manicured nails dug into Buck’s cheeks.
With a jolt, Buck woke up in a cold sweat and feeling like he’d been running a marathon, his heart hammering in his chest and not able to catch his breath. He let out a broken sob as he scrambled for the bedside lamp, but before he could get it on, the door was opening and the hall light was filtering into the room.
Eddie’s guest room.
Buck could only cry harder from relief, pressing his hands against his face to try and muffle it. He didn’t want to wake Christopher, or scare him if he was already awake from Buck’s nightmare.
“Buck, hey, what happened?” Eddie asked and Buck could feel him sit down on the edge of the bed.
“I got out,” Buck said and he knew that he probably sound like he’d lost it, but part of him was crying from fear, but the other part was relief. “I’m in L.A.”
“You’re in L.A.” Eddie rubbed his back soothingly despite obviously being confused. “It’s okay, Buck. You’re here at my house. You’re safe.” Eddie turned and wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and guided Buck’s head against his shoulder. Eddie shushed him before talking to him gently in Spanish, just like Buck knew he did when Christopher was really upset or scared. “Estás bien. No dejaré que nada te lastime. Estoy aquí.” Buck felt like he should be embarrassed that Eddie, who wasn’t really that much older than him, was treating him like his nine year old son, but the cadence of Eddie’s voice was soothing.
“What’s going on?” Buck lifted his head from Eddie’s shoulder to see Christopher outlined in the light from the hall.
“It’s okay,” Eddie said in the same soft tone he’d had since Buck had started crying. “I think Buck just had a bad dream, go back to bed.”
“I can help,” Christopher said and shuffled over to the side of the bed.
“Mijo,” Eddie started but Buck just shook his head, sniffing a little.
“He’s okay,” Buck mumbled and wiped at his face.
Eddie gave him an unsure look but didn’t argue. When Chris got to the side of the bed, Eddie lifted Christopher into his lap so he and Buck were somewhat level. “I had bad dreams too,” Christopher said and his mouth twisted up a little in the corner. “Daddy said it was okay to talk about them, but that I didn’t have too if it was too scary. Was your bad dream really scary?” Christopher asked as he reached out to play with Buck’s fingers.
“Yeah,” Buck said quietly, and he gave Christopher’s hand a playful squeeze. “You’re lucky that you have such a smart dad, you know that?”
“Yeah, he’s pretty great,” Christopher said and his bright smile as he tilted his head back to look at Eddie helped to ease Buck’s nerves. “Do you need a hug? Daddy gives the best hugs when I feel scared.”
Buck let out a weak laugh and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I bet he does.” Christopher merely hummed and then squirmed out of Eddie’s lap and into Buck’s, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck and pressing his face against Buck’s shoulder. Buck let out a shuddering breath and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep any more tears from slipping down his face. He pressed his face into Christopher’s hair and gave him a light squeeze. “Thanks, Chris,” Buck sniffed as Eddie’s son pulled away.
“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Christopher said and used the sleeve of his pajama shirt to brush away the tears on Buck’s face.
And that was more of a comfort than Buck could articulate.
“Alright,” Eddie said and lifted Christopher off of Buck’s lap. “You need to get back in bed, buddy.” He gave Christopher’s shoulder a pat and Chris started out of the room. “I’m just gonna make sure he gets back into bed. You’ll be alright for a minute?” Eddie asked, his hand resting on Buck’s knee.
“Yeah,” Buck nodded and he gave Eddie a watery smile. Eddie watched him with a conflicted expression. “Go on, I’m going to wash my face.” He knew that the salt would leave tacky spots on his skin and he was certain that his nose was going to start dripping soon. He shuffled across the hall to the bathroom and wiped his nose on a wad of toilet paper before running some cold water, pointedly not looking in the mirror as he splashed his face. He dried his skin off, just giving himself a moment to get his breathing back under control, and then made his way back to the guest room.
After a while, Eddie came in with an extra pillow in his hand. “Christopher said that I needed to sleep in here since I let him sleep in my bedroom after he has a nightmare,” Eddie said with an amused tilt to his mouth. Buck couldn’t help but let out a slightly congested laugh.
“Well then, we better follow orders,” Buck said and shifted to one side so that Eddie would have some room. Eddie grinned before tossing his pillow down and getting into bed with Buck. They were quiet for a while, the only noise the rustling of the sheets as they tried to settle.
“You don’t have to,” Eddie started, his voice just barely above a whisper, “but if you wanted to talk about it, I want you to know that I’m here, Buck. I’m always here.”
“I know,” Buck breathed and closed his eyes against the wash of emotions that threatened to choke him again. “Thank you, Eddie.”
“Anytime.”
“I’m not ready to talk about it just yet,” Buck admitted and squirmed a little.
“Okay,” Eddie said and he didn’t sound disappointed or angry or upset. “Goodnight, Buck.”
Buck let out a sigh of relief. “Goodnight, Eddie.”
#my writing#evan week 2020#ew2020#evan buckley#maddie buckley#maddie buckley kendall#chimney han#howard han#howie han#hen wilson#henrietta wilson#bobby nash#captain bobby nash#the buckley parents :/#christopher diaz#buddie if you squint#911 fox#911 fic#911 fanfic
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sprung spring | milf is not a bad word | eddie brock {m}
PROMPTS USED:
“Milf isn’t a bad word.” + Neighbors / friends with benefits + single mom au + “Did you just slap my ass?” / “Actually, I firmly grasped it.” / “Did you just quote Spongebob?” + heavy flirting / teasing + “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together. + on the kitchen table + quickie
NOTES:
Okay, warning here... I haven’t really ever... written Eddie before. So, this is just the way I kinda see him and my thirst combined... Nobody kill me pls?
Also, if enough people bother me, I miiight be tempted to make a fic of this at some point bc I do have some ideas...
WARNINGS:
Uhh.. almost sex on a table, bad humor ( Eddie, ftw ), sappy moments (Eddie... again.) unprotected sex, 69 / oral sex and body fluids.. Oh and a nosy sentinent who pops in and out at the beginning ( lookin at you, Venom, you lil shit.)
PAIRING:
Eddie Brock x OFC, Maya
TAGGING:
@micolegg | @missjenniferb | @cabotcoves | @kyleoreillysknee | @chasingeverybreaking wave bc they asked / are into Eddie and/or are on my taglist. If you wanna be tagged in my multifandom stuff, please go [here] and add yourself.
Hunk ← Lucy is spending the night with my sister, so… If you wanted to come by…
Hunk ← There’s something we need to talk about. If that’s okay with you?
Hunk ← Also, you realize you don’t play fair, right? That voice of yours on the radio this morning… I have not been able to get it out of my head all day.
Maya almost deleted the texts and didn’t send them, but she took a deep breath and hit send instead. Rita was right. She needed to stop dancing around it and go for what she wanted. The longer she waited, the more reason she gave herself to chicken out. And Eddie Brock made her happier than she’d been in a really long time. Eddie and Lucy got along well, he doted on her. Lucy loved Eddie to death, even when Venom decided to crop up in the middle of storytime some nights. Things just felt right with Eddie.
Tonight, Maya thought to herself with a silly grin, tonight is the night I tell him I’m done keeping us low key. I know that’s been bothering him and I need to fix that. She placed her phone on the counter and stripped down, stepping beneath the warm water.
By the time she’d finished her shower, her cell phone was ringing.
She stepped out of the shower and grabbed for it, thinking it would be Eddie. When she realized it was Randy, another neighbor who’s relentless pursuit as of late was growing tiresome, she frowned at the phone and answered.
“Randy, hi.”
“Hey, I was wondering…Are you busy tonight?”
… Hopefully… Maya thought to herself as she bit her lip and listened to Randy’s idea for a date, his pleading with her to give him one chance as she dug around in her closet, trying to settle on an outfit for the night, … I should just answer the door naked… that’ll really throw Eddie for a loop…
“So.. about that date?” Randy finished up, pacing his living room, scowling to himself when Maya offered up an excuse for a third time, “I’m real busy. Trying to finish remodeling Lucy’s big girl bedroom… Maybe later?”. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that if he wanted her, he had to keep trying and he offered to come over later and help out, frowning when he heard dial tone and realized that Maya had abruptly ended the call before he even got the offer out.
Maya put her phone back down, rolling her eyes. Randy wasn’t fooling anyone. He was irritated and frankly, coming off a little pushy with his advances lately and honestly, Maya didn’t care because she’d made her mind up and she was over Randy’s attempts. Taking herself off the market.
She hadn’t clicked with him like she’d clicked with Eddie. Putting the conversation out of her mind, she stared anxiously at her cell phone. Eddie hadn’t texted back yet and it wasn’t like him.
Just as she was about to sit down the phone again, it lit up.
She bit her lip as she realized that Eddie was texting back.
--
Eddie stared intently at the cell phone in her hand. Bumping into his ex and her new fiance earlier had him really thinking about his own thing with Maya. And apparently, it wasn’t just him thinking about it, because as he tried to come up with a response, Venom butted in ,, Tell her how you feel, Eddie Brock. Tell her that you no longer wish to keep things private.”
“But I don’t wanna make her uncomfortable, either. There’s a way to do shit, buddy.” Eddie muttered as he took a deep breath, biting back a quiet groan at her slightly suggestive second text. By the time he reached the third one, he was torn between anxious and horny. Anxious because she hinted that they needed to talk and in his past, that had never been a good thing and horny because the whole tone of the string of texts was… Somewhat racier than normal for her. He was getting mixed feelings here and he wasn’t sure how to respond.
Kitten → On my way now. Too bad Luce is at Rita’s. Venom was gonna share these chicken nuggets with her. ;P
Kitten → Oh? What about, hm?
Kitten → Hey, listen… If my voice was stuck in your head all day, consider it payback because I have not been able to stop thinkin about you all day either.
“I’m a fuckin sap, that’s what I am.” Eddie shoved the phone back into his pockets, slipping the motorcycle helmet down over his head and straddling his motorcycle, revving the engine. The drive across town seemed to both fly by and take hours and by the time he was parking his motorcycle at the curb in front of the 2 story townhouse next door to his own, he’d already started to brace himself in preparation of what she might want to talk to him about.
By the time he was standing in front of her door, she was opening it, pulling him through the door and into the house by the collars of his leather jacket. Her body molded against his and she rose to tiptoe, crashing glossy and soft red lips against his mouth almost hungrily. His hands moved down her back, stopping on her ass, squeezing and rubbing. It made her rub against him and she gave a needy little whimper as Eddie muttered amused into the kiss, “Thought you said ya needed to talk to me, hm?”
,, Let it be, Eddie Brock” Venom piped up. But naturally Venom would be in favor of… whatever was happening right now, because Venom had apparently ‘bonded’ with the two females in question.
,, So have you, Eddie Brock.” Venom took joy in reminding him. Eddie cleared his throat as a warning for Venom to pipe down and thought his answer, ,, yeah well, you know how the whole we gotta talk thing goes, buddy”.
Once Venom was silent again, amusing himself within, Eddie turned his attention back to waiting on Maya to say something. Instead, she seemed to be distracted, her hands resting against his jacket, working it down and off his body, tossing it at the bench next to the door where her purse and keys sat. Eddie chuckled against her mouth as he muttered again, “Not gonna answer me, kitten?”
Maya pouted up at him, pulling away to catch her breath, heavily distracted at the moment. Her heart was racing in her chest and she knew that he’d be curious and that she couldn’t just show him how she truly felt about their current arrangement, she’d actually have to tell him too, but for some reason, it all seemed so much easier in her head.
… because if I keep the words in my head just a little longer, then this can’t go badly… He can’t just decide that this is too serious for him and end it… the thought had her frowning a little and trying to shove it out as quickly as it came. She pressed into him a little more, Eddie’s back meeting the door frame with a soft smack as his arms wrapped around her and he gazed down at her, slightly panicked look in those blue green eyes of his.
Again, she took a deep breath, locking eyes with him this time. “Well, I’ve been thinking and I… I can’t keep on like this…”
His face fell and Maya swore, giving a soft laugh as she shook her head. “I’m not breaking it off, you dork. Will you let me explain? Please?”
Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself. ,, Sure, she’s sayin she’s not endin things. Means nothin.” he thought as he gave a nod. “I’m listenin, kitten.”
“Well, all our friends have a bet going on...And earlier, me and Rita were talking… And it made me realize something… I don’t want to keep this just between us. I don’t want this to just be hooking up all the time or spending nights at each other’s place.. I mean I love it, don’t get me wrong but I… I want more, okay? I want you. And me.. Together.” Maya finished rambling, gazing down at the front of his tee shirt intently, walking her fingers up and down his chest as she held her breath.
Was she about to lose him? Why was it taking so long for him to answer?
Eddie’s jaw dropped, because he hadn’t been expecting her to say that, at all. He’d been expecting her to end things.
,, Well? Are you going to answer her, Eddie Brock?” Venom roared to life, almost insistent. Eddie cleared his throat in warning again and after a second or two, his mouth opening and closing as he dragged his palm over the back of his head, it hit him.
The whole reason he’d been feeling antsy and restless lately was because she seemed to be in favor of keeping this between the two of them. She didn’t want more and he did.
Rather than waste even more time, because he could see it in those big brown eyes of hers, she was starting to panic a little, he slid her up his body, stepping across the hall and into her kitchen and dining room, sitting her on the counter as his mouth attacked her own hungrily, messy and biting sloppy kisses, the soft smacking sound of mouth against mouth filling the quiet and sexually charged tension between the two of them.
“Fuckin awesome.” he breathed against her neck, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin as she wrapped her legs around his hips and laughed softly. He was leaning in closer, nearly pressing her back against the table, muttering almost distractedly, “I was going to take you to bed but I just don’t think we’re gonna make it.”
The knock on her patio door had the pair springing apart and Eddie scowling as he glanced back. Randy, Maya’s neighbor on the opposite side stood there, gaping, giving Eddie a glare that had Eddie rolling his eyes. Maya swore to herself and muttered against Eddie’s neck breathlessly, “What the fuck made him think I wanted him to come over, I wonder?”
“Well, to be fair, kitten… you’re kinda passive. Took you five minutes of dancing around it to tell me to get lost that night I came by.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to get lost. I want him to get lost.” Maya nodded to the patio, giving a sarcastic wave of sorts at Randy, who was still outside knocking.
“Maybe we should give him a show, huh?” Eddie teased, but Maya rubbed herself against him, her arms wrapping tighter around his neck as she mumbled lazily against his lips, “Don’t you dare tempt me, Eddie.”
“Maybe I want to tempt you.” Eddie laughed, the corner of her mouth connecting with his mouth lazily as he went in for another kiss. She pouted and cleared her throat, nodding to the door and reluctantly, Eddie pried himself away from her, walking over to the patio door, sliding it open long enough to say, “Hey Randy… Maya’s busy right now. Try not coming back, yeah?” and sliding the door shut, locking it behind him because something about the guy just screamed creepy as hell and frankly, Eddie wasn’t in the mood to let Venom out to play, ruining his own current fun for the night.
He scooped Maya off her kitchen table, carrying her up the stairs, kicking the door to her bedroom open with his foot and stepping inside. After sweeping the top of the dresser free of the clothes on top of it, he was stepping between her legs, his mouth latching onto her bottom lip, sucking as his hands went straight for the tie in the leopard print silk robe.
The robe pooled around her and Eddie gave a quiet growl as his eyes roamed over her body and he smirked. “Well shit, kitten.” he raked a hand over his head, flashing her a teasing smirk, “You know tearing off your clothes is the fun part, right? The hell am I supposed to do now?” as he tilted her head to the side, pushing her hair out of the way, his mouth moving down the side of her neck, littering soft skin with bite and suck marks as his hands moved up and down her body. Her legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing tight and Eddie groaned quietly when she rubbed herself against him again, more urgently.
“Well, you could fuck me.” Maya managed to whimper as her mouth moved down the front of his throat, leaving marks of her own behind on him, smirking as she did so. Her hands went down to the hem of his tee shirt and she started to tug it upward and throwing it onto her bedroom floor as soon as she had it over his head, lowering her mouth and settling it sporadically on his chest and abdomen in various spots after slipping off the top of the dresser, stepping so that she stood in front of him. His eyes fluttered open and shut as the blunt of her teeth scraped at his chest, her mouth latching onto a patch of skin, sucking. Fingertips dug into her body and he stared down at her, muttering quietly, “ Oh no, kitten. What I’m about to do to you is more than fuckin you. We’re past fuckin you now, kitten. This is making love.” as she stared back up at him, biting her lip, her hand hovering over the button on his favorite pair of jeans.
She gave a soft smile and a giggle, working the button out of the buttonhole and then slowly unzipping his jeans, giving a tug to jeans and underwear so that they hit the floor. As her lips moved in a line over his abdomen, he tensed and a growl slipped out of his mouth, his fingers catching in her hair as she hit her knees in front of him. Her tongue danced over the tip of his cock and as she took more of him into her mouth, he groaned, thrusting carefully against her mouth, his head falling back as his fingers curled, gripping the edges of the dresser, pressing his back into it just a little more in an attempt to stay on his feet. “Fuck.” his toes curled against hardwood flooring and the hand tangled in her hair tugged at it as he thrust his hips against her mouth a little faster and she took him deeper in her throat, teasing her tongue over the vein that ran the length of his cock.
“Kitten, look up at me.” Eddie coaxed, staring down at her intently, an adoring and oh so hungry look in his eyes as they locked on her.
Maya pulled away, wiping at her mouth, biting that lip. Eddie nodded to the queen sized bed behind her and leaning down, he gripped her chin, pulling her mouth against him as he muttered into a deep and almost bruising kiss, “On the bed, kitten. Right now. On your knees...”
Maya swallowed hard, slinking over to the bed, settling on it on all fours and Eddie made his way over, flopping down, the mattresses giving a slow creak at the sudden motion. Once he’d settled in, he reached up, gripping Maya’s hips and pulling her up his body, his nose bumping against her cunt as he inhaled deep and growled quietly. “ Wanted to make this fair, kitten.” Eddie muttered as his tongue traveled up the inside of her thighs, and her mouth wrapped around his cock all over again, her head bobbing up and down. As his tongue worked over her clit and then his lips latched on, she whimpered aloud, her body tensing a little, the humming sound she made vibrating through his length and making him grip her hips tighter, rocking them back against his face as he continued to suck at her clit. Maya’s hands gripped his thighs and for a few seconds, it felt so good that she almost forgot to breathe, the bobbing of her mouth as she took him deeper into her throat. The sucking sounds of his mouth latching onto her clit over and over shattered through the silence, competing with the sound of her tongue lapping greedily at his cock. His grip on her hips tightened and he growled, feeling her starting to drip, his tongue darting down her inner thigh to clean up the mess, smirking against soft skin as he did so.
“So fucking sweet. Like candy.” Eddie mused, his teeth scraping against her thigh, latching on erratically, littering up the insides with bite and suck marks, starting the slow and torturous journey back up, his nose bumping against her cunt, Eddie inhaling deep and latching his teeth onto dripping folds as the suction from her mouth tightened around his cock. “Fuck. That’s it, kitten.” his voice came out more of a growl than anything, and he plunged his tongue deep into her dripping sex, slurping and licking her clean as he felt her legs starting to shake. “Get on your back, kitten. Let me take care of you, hm?” his breath tickled the insides of her thighs and her cunt as he muttered the words quietly against.
All Maya could do was nod, let him pull her down onto the bed. As he settled himself on top of her, she went to wrap her legs around him but instead, she bent them at the knee, resting a leg on either side of his body as he lined himself up, his face lowering, his mouth crashing against her own hungrily as his teeth tugged at her lips, kissing until she felt her lips aching and swelling on impact.
Tonight felt different. There wasn’t any rush, they weren’t just tearing each other’s clothes off and going at it like they’d gone mad. Eddie caught her gaze as his cock sank into her, inch by inch. He bit his lip and gave her that crooked grin, leaning down to mutter lazily against her mouth, “Ah, this was better than a quickie on the kitchen table anyway, right kitten?”
“Fuck.. Oh god yes.” Maya breathed against his neck as she dug her fingers into his shoulders and tugged at his hair, rocking her hips upward to meet his slow and deep drives, the smack of skin against skin competing with the quiet creaking of the bed beneath them with every little move they made. His hips connected with her body hard; almost enough to leave bruising behind. His mouth latched onto her neck, dancing across her throat, littering her skin with more bite marks and bruises and when it met her mouth again, she was almost breathless. She held on tighter, a muffled sigh soft against his neck, sending a shiver racing through him as he chuckled and stopped, planting noisy and playful kisses on her face. “That sigh was a good thing right, kitten?”
“A very good thing, Eddie.” Maya crashed her mouth against his, softly smiling into the kiss. He tilted her hips upward slightly, driving into her deep and slow, over and over, almost as if he were hell bent on fucking her deep into the mattress on her bed, that goofy smirk on his face as his gaze settled on her, pinned below. “Good.” he muttered softly against the shell of her ear as he buried his cock inside her even deeper, panting against her ear, “Because all I wanna do is make ya happy, kitten. You know that, yeah?”
“Yes.” Maya moaned, her head tilting, her eyes fluttering open and shut. Her orgasm was building at almost a blinding speed and she was literally almost seeing stars, her body tense, her grip on Eddie tight and only getting tighter, “Oh fuck.. Yeah baby, c’mon.. Faster. Please?”
Eddie chuckled, shaking his head no. “We got all night, you and me.”
“But… ah fuck… I’m so close, please.” Maya whimpered out, her teeth grazing against the edge of his ear as her legs gripped his hips tighter and she rocked herself up against him, trying desperately to get her own way, pouting when Eddie’s hips pinned her in tighter. Eddie growled against her mouth, his teeth tugging at her lower lip, his lips clenching around it as he muttered with a dark chuckle, “Not yet, kitten. You gonna be good for me?”
“Yes.” Maya said it quickly, because he was starting to slow to a full stop and she wanted him to keep going, keep fucking into her like he was because it felt too good for him to stop now. And she knew what a tease he could be.
“So wet, kitten. Feels so good, burying my cock inside you.” Eddie grunted against her throat as his mouth danced over it, his teeth latching sporadically in different spots. Oh, he was making it his mission to leave her completely covered in his marks.
He wanted it obvious whose woman she was now. If he could, he’d hire a skywriter and have them fly over the city, advertising it. His heart raced at the reminder that she wanted to be with him. He still hadn’t fully gotten his head around it.
“You’re mine. Right, kitten?” Eddie breathed against her skin, catching her gaze, flashing her that smirk she loved so much. Maya bit her lip and nodded, no hesitation. “All yours, baby.” she clung to him as he continued to fuck into her, slow and deep. His cock slammed into her G spot over and over and all she could do was moan and whimper, begging for her release.
Eddie groaned as he felt himself getting even closer. He tried stopping again, it didn’t work. Staring down at her, he bit his lip. “You gonna cum for me, kitten?”
“Yes.. Fuck yes.” Maya moaned out, digging her nails into his shoulders and dragging them down his back, making him buck into her harder and faster, so fast that the smack of skin against skin echoed through the room and almost overpowered the sound of her headboard hitting the wall at a steady pace. HIs hips stammered and she rocked herself against his thrusts eagerly, her orgasm ripping through, leaving her shaking and moaning, whimpering his name even louder, Eddie joining in when he felt her walls vise his cock, milking him of his seed, his mouth crashing against her mouth, deep and heavy kisses, the soft sound of their smacking lips and heavy breathing filling the air as he fucked them both through their orgasm.
Spent and sated, Maya pulled Eddie down on top of her and Eddie rolled onto the mattress, pulling her into his arms, kissing the bridge of her nose as she nuzzled against him. “Fuck. I know I say this every time, kitten, but that was amazing.” Eddie muttered, raising a hand to brush hair out of her eyes.
“It always is, baby. Are you thirsty? I can go get us some water.”
“A little, yeah. Don’t want you to move though.” Eddie pouted as Maya pried herself out of his embrace and stood, tugging his tee shirt down over her head. Eddie reached out, lightly smacking her ass and Maya turned, poking out her tongue. “Did you just smack my ass?”
“Actually, I firmly grasped it.” Eddie chuckled, pulling her back down onto the edge of the bed. Maya laughed against his mouth, “You totally just quoted Spongebob… This isn’t getting us water, baby.”
“Okay, fine.. But hurry back, kitten. A guy gets lonely up here without ya.” Eddie planted a noisy kiss on her lips and let her loose so that she could go downstairs and get them both a glass of water...
#eddie brock fanfiction#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock fanfic#eddie brock oneshot#eddie brock imagines#// no one under 18+#// tw s*xual content#// tw unprotected s*x#// tw body fluids#// i tried to write Eddie#// i am lowkey happy with this tbh
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Tales From Mount Othrys
Fidget Spinners IV
Once they were aboard the Ferry of the Dead, riding down the River Styx with Charon in his proper creepy and grim black robe, Alabaster stopped vomiting. The ship was an old Greek vessel, something Matthias could have identified immediately. They sat as far from the stern as possible. Apparently this boat was usually brimming with ghosts, but Charon had shoved the three of them aboard in such a hurry, less ghosts had flooded the space.
This gave them the room to sit on the edge of the boat so Pax, Lou Ellen, and Alabaster could stare off at the inky, polluted river. They wanted to be as far from the ferryman as possible. Charon was cursing under his breath, something about children being electrocuted in bathtubs and getting into car accidents.
Maybe, in a normal tour, Pax might have been excited by the black stalactites and terrifying horror movie set. For now, all he could do was rub Alabaster’s back. Lou Ellen sat on his other side, pulling one finger off and putting it back in a different one’s place, frequently messing it up. This was her way of acting concerned.
After he was certain Charon couldn’t overhear them, Pax whispered, “You died coming after us?!”
Before now, he couldn’t process what was happening enough to ask. The sight of Alabaster with his intestines dragging on the floor and blood spewing out of his mouth—it was enough to make Pax tremble more. And he was already trembling pretty hard in this cold cavern.
“Of course I died!” Alabaster’s voice rose, making Pax and Lou Ellen flinch. “How else would I be in the Underworld?!”
Tears threatened to spill down Pax’s cheeks. He could hear Lou Ellen sniffling. Crying would really make her missing-eye illusion less believable.
Alabaster sighed. Pax thought he was reaching for something in his pocket.
Alabaster wasn’t. He grabbed the end of his intestines. Casually, the child of Hecate wound them up around one wrist. Once he got towards the end, he ripped off a chunk.
Pax shrieked.
“Be quiet,” Alabaster snarled. Softer, he grumbled, “And Mercedes thinks you can keep it cool in enemy territory.”
Pax wanted to point out that enemies (hopefully) wouldn’t be ripping off pieces of their organs. Was that a thing they did in Camp Half-Blood? Did Percy Jackson, in fact, an organ-eating zombie?
Before Pax could withdraw his hand, Alabaster shoved the chunk into Pax’s palm.
Pax almost screamed again. Maybe this was an experience he should have smiled upon—after all, it isn’t every day that your crush tries to hand you an organ, granted, a heart might be better.
“I knew you idiots wouldn’t bring enough snacks,” Alabaster hissed, shoving another chunk into Lou Ellen’s hands.
“Oh my mother…” Lou Ellen whispered.
Pax didn’t want to watch as she held up the chunk for investigation. Then he saw what she saw. The scent of iron vanished like it had been a whiff from a distant breeze. That chunk had some kind of label covered in blood—not blood.
Pax sniffed.
The scent of barbeque sauce became overwhelming.
He rubbed his own chunk with his thumb. The sauce smeared to reveal a packaged sausage, like the kind you’d have on a cheese platter. There was even a bright label on the protective packaging.
Pax stared at his hand. The spell had been so convincing.
Lou Ellen made a low whistle. “You’re good,” she said, “Titans, can you teach me how to do that?”
“When you have enough discipline to pull off your nose instead of your chin,” Alabaster scolded.
Pax couldn’t think about the spell or the sausage.
He threw his arms around Alabaster.
Alabaster made a grunt of annoyance.
Slowly and firmly, as though not to draw attention to them, Alabaster removed Pax’s arms. There was an embarrassed hue to his pale cheeks as he scowled from Pax to Lou Ellen. “You didn’t come to me to devise this plan?” he demanded.
“We thought you’d be mad,” Lou Ellen meeped. She sheepishly poked at the fake dent in her head. By comparison to Alabaster’s effects, hers looked like something out of a D-rate horror movie.
“Oh, I am mad. When we get back, I’m killing you, and then you’ll have to march right back in there and explain to Charon how you’ve shown up twice, then you’ll have to see what he does with you,” Alabaster said.
Pax couldn’t help but grin. Threats aside, he couldn’t handle looking at this very-much-alive Alabaster. It was cute thinking about it: Alabaster finding their, “Went to Underworld. Will bring back souvenirs,” note and stuffing a bunch of sausage links into his shirt, cussing at the confused centaur that could swear he just took Alabaster and Lou Ellen off the ship. He really cared. At least about Lou Ellen.
“Are you making us go back?” she whispered, shuffling away from a wandering soul and closer to her brother. Pax understood. Everything here was cold. Touching another warm person was a nice reminder of the above world.
“How, pray tell, am I to make you go back in our current situation?” Alabaster closed his eyes and rubbed his eyelids. “Mercedes warned me you’d want to go after Axel. I didn’t think the two of you would be stupid enough to throw away your life chasing him or smart enough to get off the boat undetected.”
Lou Ellen and Pax exchanged a glance over Alabaster’s shoulders. Neither could decide if the comment was more compliment or insult.
“So, we’re going after Axel?” Pax clarified.
“We’re certainly not going back the way we came. I have no interest in angering Charon on his own boat,” Alabaster said.
That meant that Alabaster had come down here with his own plan. Even if he didn’t have one when he left, trying to catch them before they went into DOA Recording Studios, he would have come up with one by now. Before Pax could hear any awesome details, their ship pulled up along black sand.
Pax guessed that Hades hadn’t heard the memo—that pink was the new black. If Pax ever got scared while he was down here, he would have to remember to visualize the Underworld in various shades of Easter egg with magenta stalactites meeting a sparkling, rose floor. His stomach dropped about what shade of pink the river would be with its thick eddies. That went too Mayan in his head.
Alabaster tossed the plastic-wrapped suit backwards into the boat, quickly shuffling the younger two off. They didn’t wait to hear what Charon thought of the contents.
They walked towards the airport-like security with ghoulish attendants separating people into various lines. There were signs above the lines, ones that Pax couldn’t read since the letters jumbled into incomprehension.
A low whine, like that of an injured puppy, echoed around the chamber. Yea, there were wails too, but those were human wails. Pax was way less interested in those. He couldn’t find the source of the animal noises until Lou Ellen tugged furiously on his jacket.
Pax didn’t know how he missed the view before. Unlike Alabaster, Lou Ellen, and Axel, he struggled to see through the Mist. Even so, the Mist deserved a pay raise.
A few yards ahead of them was a massive Rottweiler with three heads. Maybe the truck-sized dog would have normally been intimidating; Pax had heard some intimidating stories about Cerberus. Instead, the dog just looked pathetic, curled up and nursing a paw. Pax could see why.
There was a sword imbedded between two toes.
“He’s hurt!” Pax cried.
“Ajax, no,” Alabaster growled.
Lou Ellen joined in the cry, “We have to help him.”
“What part of—”
“Please!” Pax and Lou Ellen said together.
“Grant me the patience of the Furies,” Alabaster said under his breath.
One of the heads must have caught their scent. It perked up and glanced in their direction, growling.
The other two were licking at the injured paw still. He looked cute, the way a monster truck might if painted with bambis and rabbits.
Alabaster stopped in his tracks. He fumbled with his intestines—sausages. Pax really needed to stop thinking of sausage as intestines. “Who do you think stabbed him?” he asked in his you’re stupid if you can’t answer this question and I know you too well to let you play dumb. “See many stray demigods wandering down here with blades?”
“It wasn’t Axel,” Pax said. Axel was obsessed with mythical creature rights and would have known Cerberus was just doing his job. One caged animal to another—Axel would have likely tried to play-wrestle with the beast. “I’ll bet it was Luke.”
“Yea, Luke’s an asshole,” Lou Ellen said.
The two of them vigorously nodded their heads towards Alabaster.
“Lou Ellen,” Alabaster chided, “I expect more creative insults than vulgarity. And you aren’t going to win me over by insulting Castellan.”
Despite him saying that, the corner of his lips twitched into a smile. Until then, Pax hadn’t realized how glad he was to have Alabaster along. The Witch Boy would know his way around the Underworld, or Pax guessed he would. Alabaster held that easy calm, even amongst the dead.
Pax and Lou Ellen would have feigned calm confidence. But, uh, that would have only lasted so long as they got closer to the line’s attendants.
Another of Cerberus’ heads noticed their movement. It raised and joined in the low growl.
The noise didn’t seem to bother Alabaster. “How were you planning on getting past?” he asked, gathering the rest of the sausages from his waist—he must have wrapped them under his shirt, and withdrawing them like a towel around a hand wound.
“We brought a chew toy,” Lou Ellen said. Pax could tell that she wanted to sound proud, but had realized a flaw in their plan. There were three heads and only one chew toy.
“Seriously?” Alabaster’s growl chimed in with Cerberus’.
“I heard it worked for Annabeth,” Pax said.
Although Pax couldn’t see it, he could feel Alabaster roll his eyes. “The amount of inconvenience that girl has caused,” he said under his breath.
Pax hesitated. Cerberus’ growls were making his body vibrate. This dog was massive, the size of a truck. Pax didn’t even come up to Cerberus’ chest and Cerberus was half-laying down. One of his heads still licked the sword hilt imbedded in his paw. Focus on that, Pax thought, and not on how his teeth are about as long as that sword.
“We have a treat for you!” Alabaster called. His voice was way too cold for dealing with a ball of cute fluffiness and death. Pax had a feeling that Alabaster had never been allowed pets as a child. Other than Axel and Pax. Pax was fairly certain that they were pets to Alabaster.
Cerberus stood up. When he applied pressure to his front paw, all three heads whimpered. They pulled the paw up slightly, to alleviate the pressure.
“Go fix his paw if you wish. I can only hold him for a few moments with this,” Alabaster said. “If you take too long or are sloppy, you’ll get yourself killed.”
For an instant, Pax wondered if Alabaster was nervous. The Witch Boy unwrapped a link of sausage and tossed it into the air towards Cerberus.
The two heads less affected by the wound snapped at it, nipping at each other to bite it to pieces, probably the same way they would do with Pax’s limbs if he was caught.
Its breath flooded over them, almost as bad as Pax’s little brother’s, Hiro’s breath.
“You suck at this,” Lou Ellen said, pulling a link from Alabaster. “You heard him, Pax. Have fun getting that sword out. Hey puppers! Look what I got for you puppers!”
Her voice raised in pitch and excitement. The sentiment worked. Cerberus sat upright, letting his butt drop back onto the ground. From what Pax had heard of Annabeth’s interactions with this dog, he thought their red ball plan might have worked with Lou Ellen’s charm. Uh—natural charm. No witchy charm required.
Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them, realizing Lou Ellen had volunteered him for the harder job. His heartbeat pounded in his head. It’s just a cute, injured puppy, he told himself, It just so happens that it wouldn’t need to chew to swallow you.
Alabaster gave Lou Ellen a look that might have been reproachful or approving. He handed her the rest of the sausage as Cerberus’ short tail thumped against the black sand, echoing around the chamber. Pax thought it was weird that interacting with this dog wasn’t a red flag for the Underworld Security. What dead person wanted to poke at the landowner’s attack dog?
Alabaster made a few signs in the air around Pax’s head, muttering in Latin. Was he making him invisible? Or at least making him blend in with the stone? Or smell less like a delicious treat? Pax hoped all of the above. When Pax glanced down at his hands, they still looked visible and potentially delicious to a monster.
“We don’t have enough sausages for you to hesitate,” Lou Ellen said.
Pax swallowed. He thought about Juana, Axel’s jaguar. Their father bought it for him a few months after they were forced back “home.” Axel warned his siblings not to go near Juana without him, since she could tear them to shreds. Juana was a tenth the size of Cerberus.
From what he knew of Juana, there was no point in trying to sneak up. He approached Cerberus’ injured paw, hands outstretched in attempt to look non-threatening. Not that a 4’7 rail of cuteness could look threatening.
The other two heads were locked on Lou Ellen, or fighting over bits of sausage she threw.
The last head faced him. The eyes didn’t quite focus on Pax, showing Alabaster’s spell must have done something. Pax heartbeat thudded in his head as he took the last few steps to Cerberus’ foot. The dog hadn’t batted him out of existence yet.
The head whimpered and pulled its paw closer to its body.
“It’s okay,” Pax said, the way he did when his littlest brother had a nightmare. “I just want to help. It’ll be quick, like ripping off a Band Aid.”
That felt like a threat to Pax. Just gonna take that sharp, pointy thing in your paw and move it around a bit.
“Pax,” Alabaster said in warning.
Pax didn’t look over to see why. He figured it had to do with how the middle head had turned to sniff furiously in his direction.
Now or to Xibalba, Pax thought. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal of the hilt and pulled up, trying not to twist the blade or yank at an angle.
It slid out easily.
Pax wanted to gloat about the Sword in the Paw and how he’d be king of the Cerberi.
His mouth went dry instead.
When he wretched the blade out, dark liquid splattered up from the paw. Something clear and goopy dropped on his head from above—saliva.
Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them, looking up. The other two heads glowered down at him. Their teeth were barred within inches of his face. Their low growl rattled his skull.
He trembled, thinking at least one good thing would come out of this: if he died in the Underworld, he didn’t need to worry about going through Charon’s Waiting Room again.
***
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe!
Stay tuned next week for part X!
#Percy Jackson and the Olympians#Heroes of Olympus#Tales from Mount Othrys#fanfic#PJO#HOO#TFMO#pax#lou ellen#Alabaster#CUTE PUPPERS!!!!#irritable bowel syndrome#Also known as Alabaster#I hope you guys are doing well! Stay safe!
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Winter Challenge | Day 6
Prompt: parkas/big coats
Fandom: IT - Stephen King
Pairing: Reddie
Sum: Richie and Eddie have some fun in the snow.
AO3
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The snow was a surprise. It had been sunny the day before, not a cloud in sight, yet some time during the night it had arrived. It covered the ground in a white blanket, filling the world with a glittering, cold light.
Richie sees the snow and cheers, bundling up in his warmest clothes and rushing out the door with a goodbye thrown over his shoulder. He doesn’t know if his parents heard him, or if they’re even home, but he doesn’t care.
It snowed!
Richie has always loved the snow. He loved making snowmen and forts, loved throwing snowballs at cars and people alike. But more than anything else he loved …
Eddie is standing at his window, his arms crossed over his chest. Richie can see the frown on his face and he laughs, quickly scooping up a snowball to throw at the window. It explodes in a shower of icy flakes, making Eddie jump and turn his glare on Richie.
“No.”
Richie laughs again, pressing his gloved hands flat against the window. He gives Eddie his best puppy dog eyes, fluttering his eyelashes and jutting his lip out in a pout.
“C’mon Eds, come play.”
“Don’t call me Eds.” But Richie can see the smile glittering in his eyes, and he grins brightly.
“I promise not to shove any snow down your pants.”
“If you do I’m pushing you in the river.” Richie laughs and Eddie shoos him away from the window with a wave of his hand. “Go wait out front.”
Richie does as he’s told, collecting snow into a pile as he waits. He can see Mrs. K in the front window and he waves at her, laughing when she turns away with a huff, probably cursing him under her breath. Richie knows she hates him the most out of all the Losers, but he considers that an achievement, and he’s proud of it.
His snow pile is beginning to look vaguely human shaped when Eddie finally stomps out the door.
“I’m fine ma,” he yells. “I’m wearing two pairs of socks, I’ve got on the thermal underwear. I promise I’ll come back as soon as I start to feel cold!”
Richie thinks he hears Mrs. K say something about frostbite and blue toes, but Eddie is closing the door and rushing down the path to Richie. He freezes when he sees Richie’s snowman, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead.
“What is that?”
Richie looks at the snowman and laughs. “It’s you, Eddie Spaghetti!”
“It has boobs.”
“Those are you arms.”
Eddie doesn’t look convinced and Richie laughs again, throwing an arm around his shoulders to steer him away from the house. As they head down the road Richie takes the moment to look over Eddie’s outfit.
The real reason he loves the snow is because of Eddie’s coat.
It’s big and red and puffy, making him as squishy as a pillow and so fun to hug. Richie’s pretty sure the coat is supposed to be worn by an adult male, the bottom falling to just above Eddie’s knees, the sleeves bunched around his wrists, held up by the thick gloves over his hands. It’s Richie’s favorite coat of Eddie’s.
“You look like a marshmallow.”
Eddie pushes his shoulder and Richie laughs.
“Remember, no snow in the clothes.”
“I know, I know.”
They meet up with the rest of the Losers and the next couple of hours are filled with laughter and fun, but then the light begins to fade and people start making their way home and then it’s just Richie and Eddie again.
Richie drops to the ground beside Eddie. At some point he’d lost his hat and his hair is coated in snow, his ears stinging from the cold. Eddie looks at him and tsks his tongue, brushing his hands through Richie’s hair to get rid of the snow.
“Your face is red,” he says, gloved hands cupping Richie’s cheeks. Richie tries to control his heart, tries to not let his feelings show. It’s one thing to be in love with your best friend, another to actually admit it to him. “We should go inside.”
Eddie looks around like he might really leave and Richie grips his wrists without thinking. He doesn’t want Eddie to leave, he doesn’t want this day to end.
“I’m not cold.” Eddie looks at him, that concerned furrow forming between his brows. Richie wants to press his lips to that furrow, to Eddie’s cheeks, to his …
Richie shakes his head and smiles, tugging Eddie’s hands from his cheeks. He’s glad for the cold, his already red cheeks won’t give away his blush.
“Let’s build a snowman!” He leaps to his feet, tugging Eddie with him, ignoring his protests that it’s late and he’s cold.
“Richie,” Eddie whines, but Richie just drops his hands and begins piling the snow.
“C’mon Eds, you’re wearing like 50 layers. You can’t honestly tell me you’re cold.”
Eddie makes a face, but sighs and begins adding his own snow to the pile. Richie’s not sure how long they work on the snowman, but by the time they’re adding the finishing touches the last of the day’s light has fled.
“It looks like a monster,” Eddie says, standing next to Richie as they stare at their creation.
“I think he’s lovely.” Richie presses a kiss to the cheek of the snowman and wraps an arm around it’s shoulders. “He’s my new boyfriend.”
Eddie’s face screws up in a frown and Richie laughs, reaching out to tug Eddie against his other side.
“Don’t worry Eds, you can be my boyfriend too!”
Eddie struggles weakly against his hold, muttering his usual ‘don’t call me Eds’. Richie laughs and then suddenly they’re falling, the snowman breaking in half, unable to hold their weight. They land in the snow with Eddie on top of Richie, who gets the wind knocked out of him. Eddie squeals, and Richie’s arm tightens around his waist, holding him closer. The jacket puffs between them.
“You promised I wouldn’t get any snow in my clothes!”
Richie laughs and gasps in a few breaths. “To be fair, I wasn’t the one that put it there.”
Eddie huffs and pushes himself up on Richie’s chest, staring down at him. His hat had fallen off leaving his hair a mess, his flushed cheeks glowing in the quickly disappearing light. Again Richie finds himself staring at Eddie and thinking about kissing him, and Eddie is staring back, something unknown glittering in his eyes.
“Eds-” Before Richie can say anything more he’s silenced with a kiss. Eddie’s lips are cold, but his breath is warm and Richie doesn’t think, can’t think. He just reaches up and curls one hand in Eddie’s hair, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves, that he could feel Eddie’s hair slipping through his fingers.
Then the fact that he’s kissing Eddie registers in his mind and he jerks his head away, staring up at Eddie with wide eyes.
Eddie is staring back, his eyes as warm as melted chocolate, his mouth set in a determined line. Richie squirms under his gaze, becoming aware of how cold his butt is and the fact that they’re lying in what was once their snowman.
“You kissed me.”
“Yeah I did.”
“I … why? I mean, not that I’m complaining.” He rushes to say. The last thing he wants is Eddie to think he didn’t want it, that he didn’t like it.
“Because, you were looking at me like … like that.”
“Like what?” Richie sits up, sliding his hands down to grip Eddie’s hips as he does. Eddie straddles him, and the light is completely gone now, but he can still make out the blush that scorches Eddie’s cheeks.
“Like you wanted me to.”
It’s Richie’s turn to blush, his entire body warming from the inside. He wraps his arms tight around Eddie’s waist, tugging him closer so he can bury his face in the puffy jacket. Eddie squirms and Richie feels his hands settle on his shoulders, squeezing softly.
“Did I-” he starts, but Richie doesn’t let him finish. He raises his head and presses his lips to Eddie’s in another kiss.
“No, I mean yes. Yes I wanted to kiss you, yes I wanted you to kiss me. Yes I want to keep kissing you.” His mouth hovers over Eddie’s, their breath mingling as fog between them. He wants to close the distance, he wants to hold Eddie close and never let him go. “You kissed me,” he says again, and his smile is the biggest its ever been.
Eddie groans and Richie presses another kiss to his mouth, laughing against his lips. He can’t help himself. He’s never felt happier.
Richie doesn’t care that it’s cold, or that he’s lost the feeling in his butt and toes. He wiggles against Eddie and slides is arms under the jacket, earning a yelp and a smack to his shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m cold Eds, warm me.”
Eddie tries to squirm out of his arms, but Richie’s grip is tight, and he laughs when Eddie smacks his face, leaving his hands on his cheeks.
“I told you I was cold hours ago!”
“Well why didn’t you make us go inside?”
Eddie’s scowl only lasts a moment before he’s laughing and he presses his forehead to Richie’s shoulder.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re an asshole. Not sharing your coat when you have plenty of space.” He shakes his head and presses his cheek against the top of Eddie’s head. “Let me in,” he whines.
Eddie sighs but reaches up and unzips his coat, holding it open. Richie grins and presses himself tight against Eddie, and Eddie’s arms come around his back. He can’t actually zip up the coat with them both in it, but he hugs Richie tight anyway.
“Okay,” Richie says, voice muffled by Eddie’s chest. “We can go home now.”
“Like this?”
Richie leans his head back just far enough to grin up at Eddie. “We won’t get cold.”
Eddie laughs and buries his face against Richie’s shoulder. “I think it’d be pretty hard to move.”
“We can do it.”
Richie stands up so suddenly that Eddie has to grab him tight to keep from toppling, and together they waddle forward a few steps.
“This isn’t working!” Eddie’s laughing and Richie grins.
“I could always carry you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Eddie laughs harder, stepping away from Richie. Richie lets him go, dropping his arms from around Eddie’s waist. The absence of his warmth brings an instant chill to his body, and Richie shivers. “Now I’m cold again.”
Eddie zips up his jacket and grabs Richie’s arm, pressing himself tight against Richie’s side.
“Then we’ll just have to run home.”
And they do, laughing and kicking up snow as they go, and Eddie holds his hand the entire way.
#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#it#stephen king#this wasn't even gonna be reddie#and yet it ended up almost 2000 words#whoops
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Misunderstandings.
Summary: This is based on a list of prompts that someone posted, and the basic gist of it is that “you annoyed me in class and so I threw a book at your head and now we’re in detention together and I didn’t realise how cute you were.”
Word count: 4.2k
Authors note: I really enjoyed writing this! I hope you enjoy reading it! This probably has a lot of grammatical errors and typos, so I’m sorry
Out of the corner of his eye, Richie watched as Eddie Kaspbrak’s hand shot into the air for the seventh time in five minutes. He didn’t even suppress the need to roll his eyes this time as he chewed his gum, making sure to obnoxiously smack his lips together.
It was fun to watch the small kid in the ridiculously red short shorts face get progressively redder as he tried to hide his annoyance about it.
It was a little game they played every single lesson. They liked to see who could annoy the other person the most, get them to snap the quickest. They both rather enjoyed watching the other lose their temper, and by now they had gotten pretty good at knowing how to push each other's buttons.
The feud had started freshman year when Richie had accidentally bumped into Eddie and sent him flying to the floor, books and pencils alike scattering around the room. Richie had instantly bent down to help, but Eddie was quick to slap his hands away.
“Don’t touch it!” He snapped, face red with anger and nostrils flaring. Richie’s head snapped up in surprise and he was surprised again when he got a look at the boy he had knocked over.
‘He’s cute,’ was Richie’s instant thought. He has pale skin but it complemented the freckles that were scattered along his nose well. His eyes are a lovely chocolate brown and his long floppy hair framed his face nicely.
Richie’s natural reflex was to smirk back at the smaller boy as he played it cool and nonchalant. He made sure to put on his smoothest voice when he replied with, “just trying to help, princess”
Richie watched in amusement as his face went a deeper shade of red, and his face twisted further in anger. He glared at Richie ferociously, and Richie thought that Eddie was trying to be intimidating, but thought he looked more like an angry kitten. He let out a snort as he watched Eddie scramble around on his knees, picking up his belongings and shoving them into his bag.
“Firstly, Do. NOT call me princess, and secondly, I don’t want your help. I don’t want you to touch my things, you… -you” Eddie paused and looked up at Richie to examine his appearance, thinking of what to say, before he spluttered out, “Punk! Look at you, you’re practically a walking germ. Disgusting.”
Richie’s laughter stopped short, and he stared at Eddie in shock, blinking. Ouch. It was Richie’s turn to be angry. He had clearly looked at Richie and made an assumption about him, just like everybody else did.
So what if he had to wear the same clothes a few times a week because he didn’t have many clothes. So what if his shoes were worn down and scruffy, torn so bad that they were practically falling apart? So what if his bag was a hand-me-down from Ben?
He had no right to assume Richie was ‘disgusting.’ He didn’t have any money to his name, and like hell were his parents willing to give up their booze money to get Richie some new clothes. Just because he looked a certain way, didn’t mean he wanted to. He was hoping to meet at least one person who wasn’t going to assume things about him the minute they looked at him, but apparently it wasn’t this guy.
He took in Eddie’s squeaky clean appearance and scoffed. Eddie was clearly a golden boy, wearing a fresh t-shirt and short shorts that Richie totally wasn’t checking his ass out in before. His shoes were pristine white and his bag looked brand new. The very opposite of everything that Richie was.
Richie stood up abruptly, not saying another word as he stormed to the very back of the classroom, choosing the desk that was closest to the window and slamming his bag to the floor. He didn’t bother to take out any paper or a pen, but instead chose to inspect his nails. He could think of a thousand places he would rather be right now.
Eddie apparently seemed to show no remorse as he picked up the rest of his things, pushed himself up and patted himself down. He then proceeded to pull out several baby wipes and a bottle of sanitizer and completely wipe everything down with them. It only made Richie angrier. He’s acting like Richie is some sort of homeless tramp. He then takes a seat at the very front of the classroom and takes out his things, organising them perfectly on his desk. Richie rolled his eyes and ignored him for the rest of the lesson.
So here they are, four years later, still holding grudges. He knows it’s childish, but he thinks he’s reserved the right to stay angry at Eddie. Richie had managed to land himself a job in a music store about a year ago, and had since earned himself enough money to buy a few more clothes and his most prized possession; a vintage leather jacket he found in a thrift store. It’s his baby.
Eddie had never made any attempt to apologise to Richie, and that was what fuelled Richie to do everything in his power to annoy the smaller boy. Eddie was cute, but he was a huge snob. If Eddie had of apologised, Richie’s positive that he would have tried to get him on a date a very long time ago. He’s definitely attractive, but the way he acts towards Richie completely puts him off.
“Would you stop that!” Eddie yells, snapping his whole body around to face Richie. His nostrils are flaring and Richie allows a slow, lazy smirk to overtake his face. It seemed that he was going to win the ‘who can piss off the other person more’ game today.
“I’m not doing anything,” he grins, holding his hands up in mock surrender. It only seems to make Eddie angrier.
“You know exactly what you’re doing,”
“Boys-”
“Oh yeah, and what am I doing?”
“You’re chewing loudly! And! It’s! Driving! Me! Crazy!”
“Boys-”
“Well maybe you’re just being oversensitive! No one else seems to have a problem with it!”
“God, you’re so annoying! Maybe if you actually bothered to do more than sit and stare at your nails all lesson you’d actually learn something! Do you even have the books for this class?!”
“BOYS-”
“Damn right I have the books! YEET!”
Thump.
Eddie Kaspbrak cried out in pain, and grabbed the back of his head. Richie’s eyes widened in horror. He looked at his book, which was now lying on the floor next to Eddie’s feet. Without even thinking about it, Richie had picked up his English book and thrown it straight at Eddie’s head.
Eddie was clutching his head as he stared at Richie, mouth open in shock. Had he actually just thrown his book at Eddie? Even he knew he had gone too far. Eddie looked kind of hurt, and it made Richie feel really bad. He opened his mouth to apologise but Eddie had beaten him to it.
“What the FUCK is wrong with you?!”
“RICHARD TOZIER AND EDWARD KASPBRAK!” A third voice boomed, and both boys instantly turned to look at their teacher, who looked angrier than the pair of them combined. Her left hand was on her hip and a deep scowl was etched into her face, accentuating her wrinkles. It made Richie want to laugh a little bit.
“Detention, both of you! How dare you disturb my lesson in such a way!” Both of them mumbled an apology, but Richie could help but roll his eyes, more annoyed over the fact he had detention than anything else.
Eddie Kaspbrak was the reason his detention record was so bad, really. He rarely ever got a detention that wasn’t Eddie involved. Well, except for the odd occasion when he got caught for smoking on the school premises. He dared a glance over at Eddie, who had his head bowed down in shame. Richie was sure he was going to eye roll himself into another dimension.
Richie slowly raised his hand. Mrs Humber glanced at him and let out an elongated, exasperated sigh.
“What is it, Tozier?”
Richie smiled sheepishly, “er, can I go and get my book back?”
-
The end of the school day rolled around a lot quicker than Richie thought was necessary, and he’s seriously considering skipping detention. But then he gleefully remembers that Eddie Kaspbrak would never have the nerve to skip detention. Hell, Eddie was probably the type of kid that got to detention early.
And why on earth would he pass up the chance to wind up Eddie Kaspbrak? (It definitely wasn’t because Richie oddly wanted to spend more time with him. Nope. No sir.)
And with that in mind, there was a spring in Richie’s step as he bounced into his English classroom, bag slung over his shoulder. He was right about Eddie being there on time. Eddie was sat at his usual desk right at the front of the classroom, head hanging in shame and fiddling his thumbs nervously.
Richie guessed that Eddie had never had a detention before, and he feels a little bad. It is his fault that they’re stuck in detention together. But then again, why should he feel bad? Eddie has been nothing but a bitch to him for 4 years.
He’s ended up in numerous detentions because of Eddie. (Granted it was his own fault for overreacting at the things Eddie did, but he wouldn’t have anything to over-react to if it wasn’t for Eddie. Therefore, it is actually all Eddie’s fault)
With that in mind, he keeps his mouth firmly closed, deciding that he would simply choose to ignore Eddie instead of taunting him, and turned to walk straight to his seat at the back of the room.
“Next to Mr Kaspbrak please, Mr Tozier.” Richie stopped abruptly in his tracks, swinging himself around to face the teacher.
“Um, what?”
“I want you to sit at the front, next to Mr Kaspbrak.” Richie sighed, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to test her patience after she was already mad at him.
“Oh, um. Sure.” He shrugged, resisting the urge to pull the chair out in a way that scraped against the floor noisily - he knew that annoyed Eddie to no end - before plonking down next to it.
“Right, well now that you’re both here, I’m going to start the clock. Your detention will end at half 4. I trust that I can leave you here to sit in silence whilst I grade papers. My office is only down the hall, so if you leave, or you talk, I will know about it.”
Eddie nodded his head as she got up, giving them one last look before she turned and walked out of the room. Richie wanted to scoff, because he knew full well that she wouldn’t be able to hear them from all the way down the hall. But if he wanted to leave, he’d have to walk out past her office where she’d definitely see him, so leaving wasn’t an option.
Richie waited a few seconds to make sure that she had actually left before pulling out his phone to text Bev. Beside him, Eddie scoffed loudly. Richie raised an eyebrow, but chose not to take the bait.
From Bevvy ol’ gal: ‘Oh my god, you threw a book at his head? Richie! Just suck his dick already, that’s a lot of a nicer way to get his attention! ’
Richie snorted and slouched back in his chair to get himself comfortable before shooting back a reply, it was going to be a long hour and a half.
To Bevvy ol’ gal: No can do, I’d probably give him all of my diseases!
From Bevvy ol’ gal: Omg Richie, you have to let that go!
“You’re not supposed to be on your phone, you know.” The voice next to him spoke up, laced with clear irritation. Richie smirked, knowing that Eddie wouldn’t be able to hold his tongue.
He didn’t even look up to Eddie as he sent a text back to Bev. “If she cared enough about her rules then she’d be sitting here to enforce them.”
Eddie huffed, but he didn’t have a reply. Richie allowed himself to be smug, because he knew Eddie knew that he had a point. Instead of entertaining Richie’s reply, he crossed his arms on the desk and put his head down, using his arms as a pillow. He closed his eyes, clearly having no intentions of arguing with Richie today.
Eventually Bev stopped responding to his texts because apparently she didn’t have the attention span to both text Richie and hang out with Ben. He shoved his phone back in his pocket after ten minutes had passed and she still hadn’t replied to him.
He sat back further in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. He glanced at Eddie, wondering if he was going to react to it, but Eddie still had his eyes closed. His breathing was steady and calm, and Richie doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look so relaxed before.
Richie can’t help but stare at him. He may not be Eddie’s biggest fan, and vice versa, but he knows an attractive person when he sees one. He lets his eyes wander over his face, tracing the small cluster of freckles across his cheeks. He has long, thick eyelashes that Richie hasn’t noticed before, and he finds it oddly attractive.
Most of all, he lets himself stare at Eddie’s lips. They’re a light shade of pink, bottom lip jutted out as it’s a bit fuller than his top lip. Richie wasn’t even that surprised to realise that he found himself wondering what Eddie’s lips would feel like pressed against his own.
“Stop staring at me,” Eddie mumbled, his eyes still closed. He sounded sleepy, and there was no heat in his tone. Richie found himself wanting to smile.
“Sorry, you just look so much like you mother. It just reminded me of how much fun I had banging her last night.”
Eddie’s eyes shot open, and he shot Richie a look of disgust. “You’re actually disgusting.” He lifted his head up from his desk and instead propped it in his hand instead, turning to face Richie.
He had a look of curiosity in his eyes, and he had never looked at Richie like that before. It almost made him nervous, and he wanted to squirm in his seat, but he resisted, staring straight back at Eddie. He watched as a blush spread up Eddie’s neck and to his face, and much to Richie’s surprise he shyly ducked his head away.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Richie blurted out, once again not using his brain to mouth filter. Eddie’s eyes went wide in surprise, and he look at Richie with what can only be described as pure confusion.
“What? Hate you? I don't hate you! You’re the one always trying to get under my skin.” And just like that, the Eddie Kaspbrak that Richie had came to know returned. His tone was incredulous, and he sounded annoyed.
Richie found himself getting annoyed too. How on earth could Eddie forget what he had said to Richie. There was a pang in his chest as he replayed their first meeting in his mind. He hated that Eddie Kaspbrak could get to him in a way that nobody else could. If it were anybody else, he would have never bothered glancing in their direction again. But there was something about this guy stopped him from staying away.
“Only because you started it! You started all of this!” Richie’s voice was beginning to get louder, but he found he didn’t care.
“You’re kidding right? Me? How did I start this?” Eddie’s voice was getting louder too, and so was his pitch. In any other situation, Richie would have found it amusing.
“You we’re a complete jerk to me the first time we met! I tried to apologise and help but you didn’t let me! YOU SAID-” Richie abruptly cut himself off. He really didn’t want to get into this. He was going to be stuck with Eddie for another 40 minutes and he already knew that this conversation wasn’t going to end.
He looked away from Eddie and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. Exhaustion has seeped into his bones, and suddenly he didn’t want this anymore. He didn’t want to fight with Eddie. Sure, it was fun to begin with, but now it just felt like such a waste of his time. Everything just felt ridiculous. He was always getting annoyed and left the classroom in such a bad mood because of this stupid feud they had going on. It just seems to do more damage than good. He’s not going to entertain it anymore, he decides.
“Richie… what did I say?” Eddie asks, and his voice sounds pleading. He looks over at Eddie, whose eyes have softened and he looks almost nervous. Richie is stumped with the realisation that Eddie genuinely doesn’t remember what he said to Richie all those years ago. It makes him feel even worse.
“No Eddie, it doesn’t matter. Lets just drop it.” He pulls out his phone again, just for something to do, but to his surprise Eddie genuinely grabs his wrist.
“Please?” He prods, and Richie regrets ever saying anything. Hearing Richie plead with him was a weakness that he didn’t know he had.
“It’s not a big deal,” Richie shrugs, but his nervous leg bouncing seems to contradict him. He forces himself to stop as soon as he realizes that he’s doing it. “It’s just… you told me I was disgusting.”
He looks up at Eddie, because he can’t resist not looking at Eddie, whose face is scrunched up in confusing, like he’s trying really hard to remember.
“You, err, you called me a called me a punk and a ‘walking germ. And I mean, I know my clothes are a little scruffy sometimes and I know-”
“Richie,” Eddie cuts him off softly, face lighting up in realisation. Guilt flashes over his face, and Richie is suddenly overly aware that Richie’s hand is still on his wrist.
Eddie seems unsure with what to do with himself. He's fidgeting in his seat nervously, clearly unable to stay still. He won't look Richie in the eyes, and he looks conflicted within himself. He opens his mouth several times, like he's trying to say something, but then his mouth snaps closed again. Richie stays silent as he watches him.
“Um, growing up, my mother has always been very manipulate. From a young age, she had me believe that I was sick and that everything is dirty. She drilled into my head about the dangers of life, and I began to be scared of like, everything. It wasn’t until about halfway through freshman year that i came to the realisation that all the medication she had put me on wasn’t real, a lie…” Eddie paused, taking a deep breath.
Richie saw Eddie’s eyes swimming with unshed tears, and he desperately wants to jump out of his chair and hug him. Although, he still wasn’t sure why Eddie was telling him this, but he didn’t want to interrupt whatever Eddie was going to say, so he nodded encouragingly, waiting for him to continue.
“That day I met you… I was horrible to you. But… It wasn’t you as an individual, I was scared of touching anybody I didn’t know. I wasn’t looking at you personally and deciding that you were disgusting. I thought everything was disgusting back then. Richie, I wasn’t judging you for how you looked, and you’ve gone all these years believing that I was… and oh God, I’m so sorry-”
“Hey..” Richie grabbed his hand cutting him off. Eddie was starting to sound frantic, almost hysterical, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. Honestly, he was feeling a little hysterical himself.
All these years, everything had just been one big misunderstanding. He could have been Eddie’s friend. Shit, maybe he could have even taken Eddie on a date and kissed him. There’s been so many missed opportunities and it’s a little overwhelming.
“Eddie, it’s okay. Really. I’m over it see?” He grins wide and cheesy to prove a point, and Eddie huffs out a laugh, a single tear falling down his cheek. Richie instinctually reaches to wipe it away, and smiles when Eddie doesn’t pull away. Eddie smiles back bashfully.
“Is it too late to like, start again? I feel so awful.” Eddie says, biting down on his lip anxiously. Richie wants to pull it out and bite down on it himself. He figures it’s too soon to actually try it on with Eddie though, and he finds that he actually wants to build up a friendship with him before anything else.
“Hi, my names Richie Tozier,” he grins, thrusting his hand out. Eddie guffaws and slaps Richie’s arm, before gently shoving it away.
“Not literally, you idiot!” he giggles, eyes shining brightly, and Richie’s heart feels ready to leap out of his chest because wow, Eddie Kaspbrak is really beautiful. Not to be dramatic, but he wants to spend the rest of his life making Eddie giggle. It’s the cutest sound he’s ever heard.
They begin chatting like old friends, telling each other about their respective lives. Eddie tells Richie about Bill and Stan, and Richie returns the favour with stories about Bev, Mike and Ben. Richie makes Eddie laugh numerous times, and they’re both surprised to realise that they have quite a lot in common.
Richie finds himself staring at Eddie’s lips constantly, like he really can’t himself from flicking his eyes down as Eddie speaks, watching his lips curve to form words. He’s never been so fascinated in a pair of lips before. He didn’t realise lips were so attractive, but then again, he found everything about Eddie attractive.
Eddie caught him do it, and he blushed bright red when he realised what Richie was looking at, but then he was looking down at Richie’s lips too, and he wants more than anything to lean over and kiss him. But he doesn’t.
Richie is in the middle of telling Eddie a funny story when they hear the clicking of heels against the hallways wooden floors and Eddie abruptly cuts off his laughter by shoving his hand in his mouth just in time for Mrs Humber to walk through the door. Richie sends him an amused grin, and Eddie has to look away so that he doesn’t start laughing.
“Alright boys, times up. You can leave now.” And with that, she turns on her heel and walks away, heels once again clicking as she retreats.
Both boys stand up, slowly collecting their things. Richie can’t believe he’s even thinking it, but for the first time in his life he feels really disappointed that he’s leaving detention. He turns away from Eddie to shrug his leather jacket back on, and when he turns to look back at Eddie, he stops dead in his tracks when he sees Eddie already looking back at him, staring intensely.
Eddie begins to move towards Richie, one step at a time. Richie feels like all the air is leaving his lungs, and he gasps for breath. Eddie stops when he reaches standing as close to Richie as he possibly can. Eddie’s head only comes up to Richie’s chest, and Richie thinks it’s adorable.
“Kiss me.” Eddie whispers, voice trembling. Richie’s almost positive that he heard that wrong, because what?
“Kiss me,” Eddie whispers again, tilting his head up as far as he can. Richie doesn’t hesitate to lean down and capture Eddie lips with his own. Eddie sighs and reaches his hands around Richie, hands playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
Richie grins, unable to help himself, and puts his hands under Eddie’s thighs, lifting him up to sit him on the desk and moving to stand between his legs, making the angle easier for them both. Eddie squeaks in surprise but it’s soon turned into a whimper when Richie uses it an opportunity to coax his tongue into his mouth.
It’s sloppy and slow, and Eddie can’t stop giggling into Richie’s mouth, and Richie can’t stop grinning, and eventually they have to pull away because they’re not even kissing anymore, just smiling into each others mouths.
Richie feels so light and giddy, and he can’t believe how fast their relationship has turned around in such a short amount of time. He’s amazed at how quickly he can go from thinking that Eddie’s a snob to being convinced that the sun shines out of his ass. But at the same time, he’s excited to see where this is going to go.
“Hey Eds?”
“Yes, Richie?”
“Do you think maybe I could take you out some time?”
Eddie smiles widely, and Richie’s stomach erupts into butterflies “I’d love that.”
Richie grins even wider, if possible, and he can’t help but lean down and kiss Eddie once again.
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Freckles and Constellations
(Reddie fic based on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70L9mzLMTEg which is a rlly good song, Dodie Clark is an amazing artist, you should go listen to her music) (another note, I headcanon that Richie plays the guitar and sings really good sadfg)
It was a cool day in Derry, was fall was transitioning into winter, and the Losers were hanging out in the barrens, where they’d started a small fire to keep warm. Along with the fire, they’d all wrapped themselves in two big blankets. “It’s just extra warmth so we won’t get sick,” was the excuse Eddie gave, but they all knew it was an excuse to cuddle with his friends. Of course, none of them objected.
They sat around the fire, laughing, telling jokes and “horror stories” from their holidays spent at their family’s. Every once in awhile, the phrase “so who’s gonna feed the fire?” would come up, and would met by a few mumbles, and occasionally someone would yell out “Nose goes!”, either way, Mike always ended up being the one to get up and stir the fire, and add in a few more sticks, since he knew if he didn’t, no one else would. There was a particular time he got up to stir the fire, which Richie piped up to, saying “Ah, bless you, beautiful baby boy. Mike, my man, if it weren’t for you, we’d all freeze.” Everyone chuckled and shook their heads at this. “Maybe the world would be better if Richie Tozier did freeze.” Mike retorted, sitting back down. “Aw, c’mon Mike, you know you love me. You all do.” Richie said, reaching his arm around Bill and Stan to poke Mike’s arm. There was a sarcastic “yeahhh” shared between the Losers after Richie said that, which sent him into a giggle fit.
More than 7 hours had passed since they’d started the fire, and the sky was starting to get dark. Bill stood up, and looked at his watch. “Well guys, it’s been lovely, but I gotta get home before dinner, or mom’ll have a fit.” Stan stood up and wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing Bill’s hand. “Yeah, and I’m having dinner with him, and believe it or not, I don’t want to have dinner with my boyfriend’s corpse.” Bev snickered and rested her head on Mike’s shoulder. “Okay lovebirds, get outta ‘ere then.” Bill and Stan glanced at each other for a second, then looked away blushing. Stan rubbed the back of his neck and Bill waved to all of them, beofre they began to climb the rocky cliff by the bridge a few yards away from where they’d set up “camp”. Richie whistled after them, yelling something dumb about them not kissing too much in front of Bill’s parents. It wasn’t long after that when Ben’s watch went off, signalling the time his mom had given him to be home. “Damn. Sorry guys, I gotta motor. Y’know my mom’s rule about curfew and the cops ‘n such.” He stood up, and was a bit surprised to see Mike follow him. “I’ll walk you,” he said, clarifying why he also stood up, after noticing Ben’s weird expression. “I gotta get home anyways.” Ben smiled and nodded, turning to the last three Losers. “Will you guys be okay here yourselves?” “Yeah, I’ll watch the fire since these two won’t.” Eddie said, pointing a thumb at Richie and Bev. Richie shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “He’s not wrong.” Mike rolled his eyes, smiling. “Okay, see you guys tomorrow maybe?” “Maybe.” The three responded in unison.
The night began to get darker, and the fire began to die, the three remaining Losers huddles closer together, Bev and Eddie resting their heads on Richie’s shoulders. Eddie yawned, nuzzling into Richie’s neck. “Getting tired, Eds?” Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, a little bit, but I’ll be fine.” Bev sat up and stretched, blinking a few times, in attempt to keep herself awake. “Nah, I’m getting sleepy, too, we should get going.” She stood up, and grabbed the stick they’d been using to stir the fire, and poked at the embers. “Who wants to put it out? I’ve got a water bottle.” Richie instantly stood up, grinning. “I’ll do it!” “I only have one bottle, if you don’t put it out, if you fuck up,” Bev warned, turning around, and picking up the bottle from the ground, “I’ll kick your ass. I’m tired and I want to go home, so let’s not mess around, okay? Richie nodded, and grabbed it from her, unscrewing the cap. He gently dumped it in, making a show to prove to Bev he’d do it right. Once the fire was out, he gave the bottle back to Bev, and turned to Eddie, who looked like at any moment he could pass out. “Hey, Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, you there, buddy?” He asked, snapping his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. Eddie slapped his hand away with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” Richie laughed, and held out a hand to him. “We’re heading off, space kadet. You coming?” Eddie grabbed his hand and stood up, wobbling a bit since he’d been sitting in practically the same position for the past 7 hours, and they were a bit numb. Richie snorted, grabbing his forearm to help keep him stable. “Thanks,” Eddie said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He leaned over and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. “Alright, Bev is it okay if we drop you off first?” Eddie asked, shivering a bit now that he didn’t have the heat of his friends and the fire warming his small body. “Yeah, that’s fine. You look cold though, you can keep my blanket, just give it back whenever.” Eddie smiled gratefully, and the began their journey to Bev’s.
“So your old man’s not gonna kill ya for being out so late?” Richie asked as they neared her house. “Oh, I’m sure he’s in bed by now. If not, I’ll sneak in the back door, and pretend I’ve been home for hours.” She winked and gave them a thumbs up. As the walked up the block she lived on, they all looked at the front window, checking to see if it was on. If it was, her father was still awake, and if it wasn’t, he wasn’t. Luckily for her, it was off, and she sighed with relief. She kissed both of them on the cheeks and left them with a “Oh thank god. See you guys tomorrow!” before jogging off to her house.
As soon as Bev entered her house, Richie dipped his hand under the blanket to grab Eddie’s hand. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and hadn’t told the Losers yet, just because both of them were nervous about the entire thing. They knew their friends would accept them, but the relationship was so new, the anxiety was just too high for them to say anything yet.
Eddie smiled up at Richie, and leaned on his side. “Rich, I’m not ready to go home yet.” He whined softly, squeezing his hand. Richie smiled, and squeezed his hand back. “We can stop by my place for a bit and hang out. I doubt anyone’s home, we can chill in my room, so then incase anyone does come home, I can sneak you out the window.” Eddie smiled and nodded. He hated being sneaky, but he loved how much Richie cared for him, especially going to the length of shoving him out the window, and sprinting back to Eddie’s house.
They walked into Richie’s house and shed their jackets. “You want some coffee to warm you up?” Richie asked. “I know you don’t know how to use the coffee machine.” Eddie replied, laughing. “I’ll do it. You go upstairs and clean off your bed.” “Hey! It’s not that dirty!” Richie said, holding his hand to his chest in a dramatic, offended manner. Eddie put his hands on his hips. “Do you really want to hang out with your boyfriend with your cumrags on your bed?” He raised an eyebrow. Richie opened his mouth to protest, then ran upstairs. Eddie laughed as he walked into the kitchen. He filled a filter, slid it into place, flipped the lid down. He crossed the room to the sink, and grabbed two mugs from the drain rack and took the empty one to the coffee machine. He put it under the dispenser, and pressed “start”.
Richie threw his clothes off his bed, and kicked them into the corner of the room. He quickly made his bed, then sat on it, messing with his fingers impatiently. Not more than a minute had passed when he decided he was bored, and he leaned over to the other side of his bed, and picked up his guitar.
Eddie grabbed both mugs and began up the stairs. He nearly tripped twice, and almost screamed because he almost spilt his coffee, but he didn’t, and he was proud of himself. He pushed Richie’s bedroom door open with his foot, and smiled. Richie was on his bed strumming away at his guitar, singing under his breath. He was so into it, he hadn’t even noticed Eddie enter the room, which was surprising, because his trip up the stairs wasn’t too quiet. He pushed the door mostly shut with his foot again, and set their mugs down on Richie’s bedstand. He sat gently on the bed, and kissed behind RIchie’s ear. “You sound amazing.” He whispered, grinning as he buried his face into Richie’s face. Richie jumped a bit in surprised, nearly dropping his guitar. “Jesus Eds, you scared the shit out of me. Warn a dude before you go up behind him and kiss ‘im, okay?” Eddie laughed, and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist. “I’m pretty sure almost tripping all the way up the stairs was a good enough warning.” Richie felt his ears blush a bit, and he rested his head on Eddie’s. “Anyways, what were you playing?” Eddie asked, poking Richie’s guitar. “Oh, it’s just something dumb I’ve been working on.” He replied, blushing more as he set his guitar back on the floor.
He turned back to Eddie, laying back, pulling his boyfriend down with him. They laid there for awhile, just staring into each other's eyes. “I have an idea,” Richie said softly, ending the silence. He rolled over and reached into his bed stand, rolling back over with a black marker in his hand. “No, no, no, Richie, if you draw a dick on my face my mom will-” “Oh shush,” Richie said, pulling the cap off with his teeth. “Richie, do not!” Eddie threatened, pulling his face away a bit. “Hold still, Eds, I have an idea. You gotta trust me.” Eddie huffed quietly and closed his eyes. “Okay, go for it.”
He felt a few pokes on his cheek, then he felt Richie drawing lines. It only took about a solid minutes before Richie pulled the marker back and yelled “Voila!” Eddie opened his eyes and sat up, fighting the urge to scratch where the ink was on his cheek. “What did you do?” He asked, putting his hand to his face. “Go look in the mirror.” Richie replied, beaming. Eddie stood up and walked to the mirror Richie had hung on his wall, and Richie followed. He stood on his tiptoes to be able to see his face clearly, and turned his face to the side, examining his temporary tattoo. He turned back to Richie quickly, smiling. “The big dipper?” Richie couldn’t help but to giggle. “Yeah! When I was looking at your face I couldn’t help but to wonder if any of your freckles made actual constellations, and I guess they do!” Eddie smiled, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around Richie. “You’re kind of a nerd, Richie.” He said softly, as Richie hugged him back. “Ah, but I’m your nerd.” Richie replied, making Eddie giggle. Eddie looked up at Richie and gently kissed his chin. “God I love you.” He whispered softly. Richie smiled and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. “I guess this makes this official, huh?” “Yeah, I guess it kinda does.” Eddie responded, pulling back a little, and grabbing Richie’s hand, lancing their fingers together. Richie giggled a little bit, earning a weird look from Eddie. “What?” He asked, frowning a little. “Haha.... Gay.” “Richie, we’re dating.” Eddie said, squinting at him. “Yeah, and it’s gayyyyyy.” Richie giggled, twisting their arms to Eddie’s back was now facing him. He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist. “But I think I like being gay.” He whispered to Eddie. “Oh, well I’d hope so.” Eddie replied, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the part where you’re supposed to say ‘wow, me too, Richie!, Eddie, my dear.” Richie said, setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder and pouting. “Oh I’m sorry, your highness. ‘Wow, me too, Richie!’” Eddie replied, mockingly. “It’s just not the same.” Richie sighed wistfully. “Oh shut up Richie.” Eddie said, squirming out of his arms. He sat on the bed, and Richie followed. Richie only had to pout another minute or so before Eddie broke the silence saying, “You know I love you, right?” Richie looked down at him, grinning. “Yeah, I was just pouting to get something out of you. Now that I know it works I definitely see myself using it in the future. “ “Don’t you fucking guilt trip me to say I love you RIchie.” Eddie replied sharply. “Will you say it without me guilt tripping you?” “I just did not more than 2 minutes ago, Richie.” Richie thought for a moment before giggling. “Oh yeah.” Eddie sighed and rested his head on Richie’s arm. “You’re kind of a pain.” Eddie mumbled. “Yeah, I try.”
There was another brief moment of silence before Richie kissed the top of Eddie head, and wrapped and arm around his waist. “I love you too.”
#it#it 1990#it 2017#it book#reddie#reddie fic#eddie x richie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#it fanfiction#it fandom#mod jordan#wow mod jordan?? writing original content?? unheard of!!!
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