richie-txzier - Tumblr blog

[richie-txzier]

holding hands with your heart.

so a while ago @ahoylovers​ tagged this post with hanziercore and i agreed with it so much i wrote 4k words about it! so enjoy some meet-cute au hanzier! 

                                                          ~*~*~

“Mr Tozier." 

Richie’s finger froze on the valve of his aerosol can, the spray of black paint ceasing on its path to create the harsh and censoring block on the brick wall. The flashes of blue and red washed around his vision, casting a shadow against his project from his own hoodied form and a faded, doubled figure of the police officer behind him. He lowered the bandanna he’d fashioned for a mask before slowly turning around, lifting his arms and dropping the can. 

"Evening, Chief. A bit chilly tonight, huh?" 

The police officer sighed, a ghost of a smile on his lips and walked towards the boy with resigned steps, the halo of blazing lights dimming as he ventured closer to reveal his tired and familiar face. Richie grinned with squinted eyes through the bright light, the wind tugging at his hood to pull it down back over his curls, the ringlets blowing into his shadowed face, paint smudged across his cheekbone. 

"What’re you doin’, Tozier?" 

Keep reading

[richie-txzier]

holding hands with your heart.

so a while ago @ahoylovers​ tagged this post with hanziercore and i agreed with it so much i wrote 4k words about it! so enjoy some meet-cute au hanzier! 

                                                          ~*~*~

"Mr Tozier." 

Richie's finger froze on the valve of his aerosol can, the spray of black paint ceasing on its path to create the harsh and censoring block on the brick wall. The flashes of blue and red washed around his vision, casting a shadow against his project from his own hoodied form and a faded, doubled figure of the police officer behind him. He lowered the bandanna he'd fashioned for a mask before slowly turning around, lifting his arms and dropping the can. 

"Evening, Chief. A bit chilly tonight, huh?" 

The police officer sighed, a ghost of a smile on his lips and walked towards the boy with resigned steps, the halo of blazing lights dimming as he ventured closer to reveal his tired and familiar face. Richie grinned with squinted eyes through the bright light, the wind tugging at his hood to pull it down back over his curls, the ringlets blowing into his shadowed face, paint smudged across his cheekbone. 

"What're you doin', Tozier?" 

Richie's smile faltered for a moment, his raised hand falling to push his hair back from his face and his expression dimmed to of one more serious, "Look, Chief Hanlon, sir, I know it's technically illegal, but you've seen the shit- I mean stuff those fuckers- sorry, I mean, horrible people write on here. It's disgusting and you n' I both know the goddamn city council aren't gonna do shit about it so I uh," 

"Decided to participate in some late-night vigilante justice?" Police Chief Hanlon remarked, trying his hardest not to display the amusement, or even worse the pride, that was pulling at his features. Richie shrugged in response, at least showing a bit of guilt as he looked at the ground. 

"Yeah." 

Chief Hanlon sighed again, deeper and paired with a hand wiping at his brow, "Mr Tozier," He met his eyes, "Richie. You know I have to take you in for this. No matter how honourable your intentions were." 

"For the record, I wasn't planning on getting caught," Richie smirked a little, "That's just a bit of a bonus; I do love our police car chats." 

Restraining an eye roll, the Police Chief reached to his belt to unfurl his handcuffs from it's attached pocket, "You know the drill." 

Richie obediently turned around, hands gravitating to the small of his back and barely flinching at the touch of cold metal against his wrists. Hanlon made quick work of clicking the handcuffs, frowning at the thinness of his wrists, before clapping a firm hand to his shoulder and leading him to the car, the two of them bathed in blinding light. 

The movements of getting into the car were practised: Hanlon opening the door, Richie shuffling expertly into the back seat with restrained hands, Hanlon closing the door behind him and then circling his way around to the driver's seat. Seasoned, compliant, and far too familiar. 

When Hanlon started the car and turned off the light, he adjusted his rear-view mirror to watch as Richie relinquished to tilted his head back against the seat, eyes gravitating out the window. He breathed deeply out his nose, hand sliding across the steering wheel as he turned onto the dark road towards the station. 

"You know you're a good kid, Richie." He started, and watched in the mirror as Richie looked over a bit alarmed, used to the simpler, more offensive talks of 'Your cause doesn't outweigh the crime.' and, 'If this happens again more serious consequences will have to follow.'. But the sincerity in the Police Chief’s voice threw Richie off for a moment, and honestly, it did Hanlon as well. He didn't entirely know what possessed him to need to say the things he did; maybe it was the blocked out slur the boy had been working on that was very much obviously personal to his family. 

"In theory." A mumble replied. 

"I'm serious, kid. You've got morals; and not just that - guts. But you just- you go about it the wrong way. You gotta leave it sometimes." 

"I can't. You know I can't."

A pause.

"And I know you can't either, sir." 

Hanlon pursed his lips, knuckles tightening on the wheel, "Maybe not. But I'm not a punk kid with a spray can," Richie hung his head and Hanlon's grip relaxed along with the slope of his shoulders, "You gotta pick your battles, kid, because seeing you staring at me under these lights with your hands in the air is not a sight I look forward to, believe it or not." 

The two of them sat for a moment, Hanlon focusing on staring out the windshield at the dark autumn evening, the crackling and soft voices of his radio unheard. He saw Richie blinking rapidly and his chest lurched. With a quick executive decision, he decided that that seemed to be enough and reached for the radio knob. 

"Any requests?" His voice lighter, more like the cheerful Police Chief who ruffled his curls when he saw him at the Summer Parade. 

A smile curled at Richie's mouth and he eyed the small disco ball dangling from the rear-view mirror, "Got any disco?" 

"Earth, Wind & Fire it is." 

The first chords of September were quietly strumming through the cruising police car when the car phone shrilled, the two of them flinching in surprise. Hanlon quickly picked it up, ignoring Richie's back seat remark about the danger of calling and driving. 

"Police Chief Hanlon." 

"Hey Pop, Ma wants to know when your shift's gonna end so she can make supper." Mike Hanlon's voice rattled through, the faint murmur of voices in the background along with another few ringings made him wonder where he was. He checked the time on the dashboard. 

"It'll be closer to 7, Mikey. Tell your ma to keep a plate warm for me. Where are you, son?" 

"I'm at the station. Is it okay if I come home with you? FInd anything on your rounds?" 

Hanlon glanced towards the mirror to Richie looking curiously back at him and he smiled lightly, "Yeah. Got some 18-year-old punk I caught graffitiing the Townhouse," He ignored Richie's protests, "Bringing him back just to write 'im up." 

He heard Mike hum and then chuckle on the other end, "Hm, is he cute?" 

Hanlon frowned, and he turned a little towards Richie to peer at him over his shoulder, "My son wants to know if you're cute." 

Richie grinned and leaned forward, cocking his head cheekily and charmingly, "I want to say yes, sir." 

Police Chief Hanlon barked in laughter, Mike echoing his own chuckles in his ear and Richie grinned wider, settling back as he contently watched the many laughter lines in the Chiefs face deepen. 

"Alright, alright," Hanlon's chuckles subsided and he readjusted the phone on his ear, hands gliding over the wheel as he turned the car into the car park, "I'll see you inside." 

"'Kay Pop, see ya." 

Hanlon yanked up the brake and the car jerked to a stop, the lamppost cemented into a small fenced plot of grass beaming through the windshield to ignite how the Police Chief's head resigned forwards. Richie's stomach dropped. 

The next few moments were once again painfully practised: Hanlon lumbering out his seat, opening the back car door for Richie to shuffle out, Hanlon's hand firm on his bicep to keep him balanced, it then moving to between his shoulder blades as to guide him towards the precinct. 

"Evening, Ellie!" Richie grinned in greeting at the receptionist twirling a strand of stray greying auburn hair around her finger, staring dully at her computer screen. She looked blandly towards the boy, very accustomed to his behaviour, but her dark green eyes twinkled with hidden affection. 

"Back already, Richard? I'd've thought you'd at least want to wash before you got caught again?" She smirked, letting the ringlet fall to bump against her freckled and rouged cheek. 

"Yowza!" Richie barked, as Hanlon worked through a document Richie never bothered to learn of, "Mrs M, you know I only keep coming back for you." 

"Clearly." She hummed, taking back and looking over the clipboard, looking back at him at the low angle to make Richie snort. 

"How’s Bev doin’?" He asked, pushing on his toes to watch as she ducked under the desk to pull out his file, one bent and ripped a bit from frequent use. 

"Mhm," Her tongue smudged at her painted bottom lip as she fiddled with the paper clip to slide the sheet behind the others, "Home today as I'm afraid she's grounded." 

"Oh no." Richie murmured, Mrs Marsh oblivious to his secret smile as he was well aware that Beverly Marsh was currently on a date with Ben Hanscom at the cinema tonight, "Shame." 

She hummed and pulled out yet another file from under her desk. And then another. And another. 

Hanlon looked at her in disbelief, pen poised midair. Elfrida shrugged, leafing through yet another box of files labelled 'T', "Mr Tozier has collected quite the anthology." 

The irate side look Richie received from the Police Chief only made him grin. 

"Richie, I'm gonna be here for a bit, go up and sit by my desk." Hanlon sighed as he clicked his pen in defeat and opened the first file of the small mountain. 

Richie saluted as best he could without his hands, more of a tilting nod than anything, "Yessir!" 

Winding his way through the precinct, he passed empty chairs and dark desks, finding the quiet of the area with no phones thrilling, only the distant quiet hum of the cleaners in the corridors, actually quite peaceful. The damp floors squeaked underfoot, and he nodded at Adrian Mellon in a greeting and apology for waking him in the holding cell - caught fighting again probably by the black bruise around his eye, but won by the fact he'd been given the pillow and threadbare blanket. The office at the end of the room was one of the few lights still on, and, with a practised move backwards and with his shoulders, he opened the door and-

"Well hello there." 

The boy had his feet propped up on the polished oak as he sat in the chair facing the desk - Richie's chair, thank you very much - and he was about to remind of him of that fact when he looked back at him. Oh, it was Mike, of course, it was because that would make sense, obviously, he was the chief's son, and who else would be here so late looking especially good in his denim jacket and blue converse and dark eyes and dimpled smile- 

Mike smiled politely, a little crooked in question, "...Hi?"

"I believe you are sat in my seat, but if you just stand up, I'll gladly give you a better one." He winked and Mike's face grew hot but his smile widened, eyes crinkling in an adorable, genuine way that made Richie almost want to apologise for his vulgarity.

“Have I seen you before?” Mike asked, standing up for Richie to shuffle around him and sit. He got a waft of a clean dusty smell. He smirked. 

“Maybe from your dreams, gorgeous.” He manoeuvred his cuffed hands into the empty space of the back of the chair to lean back and look up at his face. Mike chuckled before his features turned thoughtful and he searched his face for a few moments. Richie was starting to feel uncomfortable under his soft stare of warm dark eyes. He clicked suddenly. 

“Bev Marsh. Don’t you hang out with her?” 

Richie blinked, “Yeah. But don’t worry, sugar, she’s just a side piece.” 

Mike hummed and turned to perch on the edge of his father’s desk, crossing his arms, “I know her boyfriend, Ben. I think I see you two smoking outside school sometimes,” He gave a pointed look with a hint of a smile, “Dirty habit.” 

“I’m dirty in other places too.” The words fell out his mouth before he thought about it, as usual, and at this point, most people would’ve gotten sick of his indelicate flirting, but Mike laughed, head falling forward and his hand lifting to cover his mouth. 

"Yeah, I'm sure," He chuckled, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets, and tilted his head, a playful frown on his face. He jerked his chin, "What did you get busted for, Tozier?" 

"Second-degree homicide, I'm afraid," Richie sighed, a bit hypnotised by the way Mike's eyes crinkled in the corners, "Goin’ away for a long time, I expect." 

Mike hummed, smiling until Richie could see a peek of his teeth, "Anyone I know?" 

Richie caught his breath, "No, no. Just my wealthy husband so I could claim the millions in life insurance when I get out." 

"Millions?" Mike feigned thoughtfulness, "Hm. Got room for another in this plan? I could be your alibi lover?" 

Richie blinked and swallowed, hard. All of his thoughts was a sudden cacophony of, holy shit he's flirting with me, with a commanding louder order of, don't fuck it up. But then Mike winked at him and his mouth opened, "You'd have to share the conjugal visits with your mom though." Fuck.

But Mike barks in loud laughter, the force of it bending him over. Unfortunately, his hands were still tucked in his pockets meaning that as he tipped forwards, he shifted his centre of balance, and had him falling directly on top of Richie. Luckily for Richie's face, Mike had surprisingly good reflexes and managed to catch himself on the arms of the chair. But now- 

"Was that seriously a your mom joke?" Richie could feel Mike's breath on his chin, and wow wow wow wow his eyes were even prettier up close and he's smiling at me oh god his mouth is there it's right there holy shit. When Richie didn't reply, Mike caught where his eyes were fixated: his mouth. It was only then he realises just how close they had become. He went to pull back, just a few inches, but his heart-dropped in a sudden jolt of want at how Richie unconsciously followed the movement forward.

Oh,

he wanted to kiss him. His mouth was full and parted. And they were alone. And he was, yes, very cute, and, yes, very funny, and, yes, very, very close right now-

"Mike? You around here?" 

Mike jumped back at his father voice, and Richie had to suppress a groan. So close. 

"Yeah, Pop, I'm at your desk," Mike called back, straightening his jacket, his eyes focused on where his thumbs rubbed over the buttons. Richie, for a terrifying moment, thought he'd just dreamed the mutual tension, but when Cheif Hanlon rounded the corner, the flustered smile Mike wore as he greeted him had his heart singing, "Just... talking to Richie." 

"Oh?" Hanlon dropped some files on his desk, dropped into the dark leather chair with a sigh, and began to search through his drawers, "Do you two know each other?"

"School, and through some friends," Mike caught his eye and smiled. 

Richie thought he should contribute something if just to make sure his voice still works, "Mike knows Ben, who's Bev's boyfriend." 

Hanlon make a confirming hum, having found the stamp he was looking for and instead flicked through the papers, "Shame Miss Marsh is grounded, I heard the Aladdin is doing a Valentine special this weekend," 

Mike and Richie shared a smile-stifling look. 

"Alright, kid," Hanlon shuffled the files together before settling them down and clasping his hands on top of them, "This time I'm letting you off with a warning," Richie leaned forward, "A warning, Richie. Vandalism is a serious crime but compared to what was... previously there, I believe it's fair to say that it was an illegal improvement." 

Richie knew a slap on the wrist when he heard it and so nodded along, looking as remorseful as he could despite having absolutely none for his deed, "Yes, sir." 

"I'm going to call your father to come pick you up, and I will be explaining why you're here." The Chief finished with a stern look as he stood from his desk, but Richie swore he saw a ghost of a smile. He looked down to hide his own, "Oh, Mikey, here," He passed something to his son on his way out of the door, "I'll meet you by the car, alright, I've still got some things to sort before we lock up." 

"Sure," And as he opened his hand, Richie saw it was the keys to his cuffs. 

"Oh, thank god," He sighed and stood up, turning his back to Mike, "While these are a very sexy accessory, I don't believe that much in the saying that beauty is pain, ya know-" 

His ramblings inhaled to a halt at the feeling of Mike's warm fingers on his wrist. The lock clicked and Richie started to wriggle his arms but Mike placed a hot palm on the inside of his elbow and his body seemed to melt into his touch. His voice was soft with amusement and concentration, "Don't move so much, you'll hurt yourself." 

The cuffs slide off his bony wrists with little restriction then and with a clatter they landed on the desk. Richie rolled the joints until they stopped cracking and then stretched them. Mike eyed the practised ease of the movements and caught the edge of his sleeve when he turned to face him, "Here let me." 

With a firm thumb, he massaged his pale wrists with his soft, warm hands, kneading the tight muscle until the ache had all but subsided. Richie didn't take his eyes off his focused face. Mike looked up and met his awed eyes and mistook it, and smiled apologetically, letting his hands fall, "I read a lot. I know how bad sore wrists are." 

Richie nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, the shape of Mike's fingertips tingling his skin, "Thanks." 

Mike smiled again, and Richie noticed he did that a lot, but each was warm, different, like they were sculptured just for him for every moment they shared, "No problem." 

They both stood in silence for a moment. Then both began to speak at once, 

"What did you-" 

"Are you free-" 

They both stopped with a laugh. Richie nodded, "You first." 

"What did you do?" Mike asked, standing up straighter, "Actually, what did you do? What did my Pop mean with illegal improvement?" 

Richie swallowed, something curled in his stomach, and he realised he didn't want to tell him; not because he was ashamed, far from it, but because he knew exactly what he'd done and why he'd done it, and he didn't want it to gain him points with him, or something. He did it because it was the right thing to do, not to win something. So he replied simply, "Oh, just a bit of good ol' graffiti." 

Mike cocked his head, "Like what?" 

Richie shook his head, with a short laugh, "I don't even remember. I just, sort of," He mimed something similiar to trying to control a wild hose, "Everywhere." And it wasn't technically a lie, "But that wall was really ugly, and I'm basically Jackson Pollock, so I one hundred percent improved it, only for the sake of modern art!" 

Laughing, Mike conceded, "Alright, I believe you. Derry isn't exactly the pinnacle of picturesque, so I think I should thank you." 

Richie bowed dramatically, making Mike laugh harder and those crinkles around his eyes appeared again. He steeled himself, swallowing and decided to just fuck it, "Do you want to go to movies with me tomorrow." 

Mike blinked, "What?" 

But Richie wasn't stopping, "Their showing that Valentines Day special thing this weekend, aren't they? I mean, I don't mean you're like my Valentine or something! Unless you want to be? You don't have to answer that, ha ha, I just meant I thought it would be fun, and my friend Stan is working there so we could get in free if you want. I mean, do you even like romance films or anything? I like a couple, like Dirty Dancing, or Pride and Prejudice, or Empire Strikes Back-" 

Mike clapped his hands on Richie's shoulder with a chuckle, stopping the boy in his place with big eyes staring up at him, "Empire Strikes Back isn't a romance movie." 

Richie blinked owlishly at him, "It had a romance in it." 

Mike laughed and searched his face; eyes flicking down to his mouth and then back to eyes with an easy smile, "Won't you be grounded, for possibly ever, after this?" 

Richie shrugged a shoulder, "My folks still don't know the lock on my window is loose, so..." 

Mike bit his lip, knowing that such a blatant disobedience should not be as attractive as he was finding it, "Then," He bent to pick up his satchel, "If you manage to be at the Aladdin at eight tomorrow, I might just happen to be walking that way back from the library." 

Richie grinned. The library is on the other side of town, "I'll be waiting." 

Mike grinned shyly back.

"Alright, I better catch ya later, Frank." 

"G'night, Will. Say hi to Jess for me, yeah?" He called, hugging the phone receiver to the spot behind his ear, humming into the mouthpiece non-committedly. Hanlon smirked a little as he walked away, twirling his keys in his hand as he waved in confirmation. 

"Mike?" He called as he skipped down the stairs into the foyer. With a wave to Elfrida, he figured his son was waiting by the car and punched in the pin to open the door. 

With a hefty push, the door swung open and he stopped.

In front of him, was Mike, his back to his father as he very clearly had the Tozier boy pressed against the streetlight in the centre of the car park next to his car, illuminating their little corner. Richie's hands were clutching at the back of Mike's denim jacket as Mike held his cheek, tilting his head into his so the light glinted off his thick glasses over his shoulders. Mike's leg was between Richie's, the hand on his hip holding him pressed against him. The two of their mouths moved rhythmically, the bobbing movement of their jaws indication of how deep their kissing was. Something William Hanlon was not keen on ever seeing. 

"Michael!”

They broke apart suddenly, still very much entwined with another one and Richie's cheeks a noticeable pink. Simultaneously, Mike eyes and Richie's mouth widened; Mike ducking his head into Richie's shoulder in embarrassment whilst Richie propped his chin on the denim-clas shoulder to smile and wave at the Police Chief. 

"Aren't you supposed to be on your way home, Tozier?" Hanlon remarked as he walked towards the two of them. 

"Your darling boy was too seducing I'm afraid, sir," Richie replied, earning him a chuckle from the boy nudging at his neck, "I was corrupted!" 

Hanlon huffed, pinching his nose, too tired to process the situation and resorted with a short, "Your Ma'll be waiting, Mike." 

Mike picked up his head, looking from his father to Richie and looked at his dad with a nervous smile on his lips, "Could you give us a minute, Pop?" 

Hanlon looked between them and then nodded, jingling his keys so he could hold up a finger, "One minute." 

As the Police Chief walked around the car, effectively blocking the two boys out, he still caught the small murmurings of them, a chuckle, a sigh. He clambered into the driver's seat and, with a short glance, watched as Richie unfurled from his son to bend down and pick up his satchel, passing it to him with a soft smile and unheard words. Whatever he had said, it made Mike smile just as happily back as he looped the strap over his shoulder, before he slid his hands under the open halves of Richie's leather jacket, Richie's holding his forearms, leaning forward to say something in his ear. Richie smiled through a reply. When Mike tipped back the two shared a short look, one intimate enough to make Hanlon glance away, maybe for the best as he missed how they shared a brief parting kiss. 

His attention was brought back by the motion and noise of Mike opening the passenger door and falling into the low seat. Mike rolled down the window, "See you later, Richie." 

Richie could hardly wave back, his cheeks a dark pink, straightening his glasses, his grin stuck on his face, "See ya." 

Chief Hanlon pulled out of the space, the two of them continuing to wave as he turned to drive down the street - Richie even jogging down the lane a bit to keep in sight of Mike. The Hanlon’s disappeared around the bend with a last double beep of the horn. 

Richie smiled into the twilight, staring after the car, hand dangling in the air. Tomorrow.

  "Richie Tozier, Mike?" 

Mike chuckled, watching the orbs of streetlights blur past the window, illuminating the soft look in his eye, and he lifted a shoulder slightly,

"Bad boys do it better." 

"I don't even want to know what that means, son." 

[richie-txzier]

Imagine...

Imagine you’re in love with Henry bowers because of his sexy mullet and sex pack. But you’re one of the losers and also Richy Toezers second cousins niece and also eddies half-sister....

One day Patrick hockstutter comes up to you and starts begging you to get with him cos he has a proper hard on for you.. but you say no bcos ur loyal to ur boy Henry and his greasy hair leaks with sadness. You found out that night he had killed himself by driving his car through the school and into a pike. rip patty hockey :(

A couple of weeks later ur with the losers fighting pennywise (who also has a thing for you,) in the sewers. after vomiting on Eddie peniswise tries to vore you, his enormous clown cock wagged in his costume as he tries to fit his jaw around your head. “HENRY” you scream and pendantwhistle cums.

“I’m coming (y/n)!” You hear and suddenly Henry shoves a fence spike through Percyweasley’s head. The spike goes through you head too. You die instantly.

[richie-txzier]

eddie is blonde and, like richie, i am whipped

[richie-txzier]

Hey I was wondering if I could be tagged in your Sweet dreams are made of this fic? I want to make sure I don’t miss a thing

You got it babe, I’m so happy you like it sm!! 

[richie-txzier]

Can I be on the taglist for Sweet Dreams pls? You’re writing is so gooood ily❤️

Ofc omg I’m so glad you like it!!! xx

[richie-txzier]

Send some in! I have so many bits and pieces of Reddie wips so ask away!! :)

Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game

Send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in

[richie-txzier]

Hello love! Can I be tagged in Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This?

Of course!! :DD

[richie-txzier]

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This (Who Am I To Disagree?)

Original Request: Can you do a Stenbrough soulmate story?!! I loved the Reddie one so much it was great.

Requester: @propertyofthelosersclub

Pairing(s): Bill Denbrough x Stan Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak x Richie Tozier

Warning: Migraines, Nausea, I guess?

Author: Admin Tozier

Note: So,,, does anyone remember this fic lmao. I FINALLY finished this chapter and now I sorta know where I’m going with this so yayyy :) 

Link To Song: I Get Ideas - Tony Martin

Paraprosexia , Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (YOU ARE HERE) , Chapter 4 (Coming soon…)

The water was cold. While the diner bathrooms were spotless, cleaned to a standard Eddie would approve, the taps in the toilet seemed to be the only thing in the place that didn't work right. Even as he had streamed the tap for a while, hovering his fingers under the freezing flow, the liquid had no desire to change.

Bill felt similar. Splashing it across his face, it woke him up. Woke him from the lonely breakfast sat across from his unashamedly happy and affectionate best friends as he washed the food from his mouth. Woke him from this morning as it cleaned the dried tears from his face.  But as much as he scrubbed and scoured and swabbed the frigid water into his pores, his eyes, everywhere, he couldn't wash away the lingering thoughts of his dream.

The motion of realisation that drove through Ben's features played on a loop in Bill's mind eye. It sent terror deep, the possibility of Ben not only being aware of his situation but more in the fact that he so easily figured it out. If he was so quick to understand the situation after only a few minutes, how many other people had realised in the two years he'd been crushing on him? How many other people could figure out who was in his dream? Could he figure it out? He didn't even know what to tell him- whether he even wanted to tell him - but what if the mere knowledge of the situation(the only shred of control he could still hold to stop him going insane with mortification or worse: having to face his problems) what ripped from him by Stan figuring it out before he told him.

"HEY! Bill, breathe, buddy, come on!" 

Bill's head snapped up to the mirror as a hand laid on his shoulder blades as was met with the severely concerned soft features of Ben looking back at him. He took a sudden deep breath he didn't know he was holding and turned around, Ben's hand falling as he leaned against the sink, his hands still on the rim, "That's it," Ben smiled gently, "Don't go doing an Eddie on me."

Bill laughed gently, more out of relief of being mitigated from his vortex of panicked thoughts than of amusement, "S-sorry."

Ben shook his head, "Don't be," Bill gave him a look, "No really, I reacted the same when I go mine."

A snort erupted from Bill's lips, running a hand over his face to dry himself of the droplets running down his nose and cheeks, "You and Bev were already t-together when y-you t-wo t-turned 17."

Ben shrugged meekly, "Didn't mean I wasn't shocked," He pulled his sweater over his hand and reached up to wipe a stray droplet from Bill's jaw, "It meant that it was properly real, you know? That I wasn't just lucky enough for Bev to like me enough to be my girlfriend, but also that she was Soulmate?" He shook his head, laughing, "I was in shock for days. Bev was so worried."

"How'd you t-tell her?" Bill asked in a small voice. Ben laughed again, more genuine as it was smothered in fondness.

"She basically tortured it out of me," His shoulder's sagged, "I didn't want to tell her,"  

Eyeing his body language, he took him gently by broad shoulders and moved the both of them to a bare wall and slump it. The two of them slid down, sat on the linoleum red and white tiled floor, their back against the crisp white painted wall. Ben seemed to melt into it, his jumper a matching colour as well as his sunken demeanour.

"Why not?"

"I was scared it was a mistake." He replied simply, "That when Bev woke up from hers a month later she'd see someone kinder, taller, fitter; someone better for her and realise how much I didn't deserve her."

When he ripped his gaze from the solitary crack in the red tile in front of him, he met Ben's gaze and caught his silent question, "Yeah, I'm, I'm scared too," Bluebell eyes encouraged him further. He took a deep breath, "I-I'm scared that we'll be S-Soulmates, but not good t-together. That he'll be mine but also s-someone else's. That I'm so close to being with him, but at the same time, I'm actually the farthest away."

A small, half-covered hand moved to cover his, and squeezed his fingers gently, sandy blonde hair tickling his jaw as he leaned his head against his shoulder.

"For the record," Ben began as Bill mirrored his actions to tilt his head on top of his inhaling his soapy and sugary smell that reminded him weirdly of a kind old man; one always with a smile, candy, and uplifting words of wisdom to spare at any moment, "Stan would be insane to not want to be with you."

Bill laughed lightly, feeling freer and calmer and, most of all, thankful for his best friend, "Th-thanks. And Bev would have had to be blind, mute and d-deaf is sh-she didn't want to be with you."

"Hm, thanks." Bill could hear the smile in his voice.

They sat for a moment, breathing in the tranquil space between them, holding on to the moment of peace as they sat holding and falling into one another, the faint dripping of the tap and gurgle of pipes filling the comfortable silence. Bill was starting to feel the exhaustion of the day weigh down on his body and most notably his eyes; the warmth radiating from Ben's incredibly soft jumper making him feel like a nap was most definitely in order at some point today. Maybe he could convince Ben to nap with him.

As he was mulling over possible ways of persuasion, his warm pillow shifted as Ben stood up. A groan rumbled from Bill's throat. Ben rolled his eyes, grinning, "Come on, we should get back to the table. Rich and Eddie are probably wondering where we are."

Bill stood up, brushing off his sweatpants, grumbling, "Not likely."

Ben's hand was firm and gentle against Bill's back as they walked back to the table, but felt him leave about halfway towards the booth. He caught his small smile and motioning to the bulky, kaleidoscopic and luminescent jukebox on the opposite side of the diner. Bill nodded in response, returning his smile before tipping his head back, the booth only a few faux confident steps away.

He had just reached the table when he bumped into Audra, then engaging in a side-stepping rendezvous that had them both laughing lightly, "Sorry." He muttered through pink cheeks.

"That's alright, sugar," She smiled gorgeously. He was trying to shuffle back into his seat, the tinging of glass against glass alerting his attention. Looking up he saw Audra refilling Eddie's glass of water, her face pinched and cornflower eyes soft as she gazed down at him, "You need anythin' else, strawberry?"

"No, thanks though Audra," Eddie murmured his voice sharp around the edges. She hesitated but nodded, collecting the jug back into her arms.

"Alright, but lemme know okay?" Eddie nodded. She gave him a kind smile and Richie a playful fluff of his hair before she walked off, feet clicking against the linoleum floor.  

Bill took in Eddie's furrowed brows and his sour expression, and how Richie was gently massaging circles in his temple and softly kissing his jaw. He reached a hand across the table, on that Eddie slipped his hand, the tremors evident in Bill's palm, "You s-still got a headache?"

From a downward angle of his head, the glare that Eddie sent him was positively murderous even so that Bill swallowed, "No, William, I'm sitting here pretending to be in steadily throbbing pain for fun."

Richie tutted lightly behind him, pressing a kiss behind his ear that immediately softened the boy into his embrace. Bill could just see Richie's other hand stroking his stomach under the table, "Don't be so hard on Billy-boy, dear," He nudged the glass towards Eddie, "He loves you too."

Bill made sure Eddie could see him nod through the glass Eddie had tipped into his mouth, pairing it with an affectionate squeeze of his hand. Ben appeared back at the table, the sweeping calming rhythmic melody of Tony Martin crooning to I Get Ideas following him with kind grace. Eyeing the knotted couple in front of him, Bill seceded in moving down the bench giving Ben a look as he slid in next to him.

"Tony Martin?" Ben shrugged, cheeks a little pink.

"Beverly likes it." He muttered, swirling his mug embarrassingly as soon as he grabbed it.

When we are dancing And you're dangerously near me I get ideas, I get ideas

"Oh, I love this song," Eddie said wistfully, smiling at Ben as he hummed along with it.

Bill eyed the sudden mood change, "Careful Rich, I think he's reached the delirious stage."

"There's no fucking delirious stage, have you ever had a headache before?"

"Apparently not."

"Fuck you."

"Eds," Richie cooed, hugging him to his chest and fingers trailing to his hair. Eddie huffed, twisting in Richie's arms.

"Don't 'Eds' me. You don't have to fucking deal with this. You get to scamper off every morning. I have to stay and deal with her bullshit."

"Hey! I have to suffer too!"

"How could anything be as bad as a fucking half-hour scream-lecture about fucking apples."

"I have to leave my Spaghetti," He pushed his nose against Eddies, "It's so hard because he's so adorable in the morning."

Eddie's face flushed hot and a hesitant smile twitched at his mouth, "You're stupid."

"And you're bratty."

Eddie kissed him gently, fingers coiled into his shirt, his voice lowering considerably, just for the both of them, "I love you."

Richie kissed his forehead, practically beaming, "I love you too."

"-buh-borrow my copy of Pride and Prejudice only if y-you nap with me." As the two of them zoned back into the present they looked over to see Ben drinking the dregs of his tea whilst Bill was leaned engagingly on the table and the back of the bench, face edging on playful desperation.  Eddie's phone buzzed from his pocket, Richie feeling it against his leg and he wiggled on Richie's lap to get to it.

"What the fuck are you two talking about over there?" Richie asked over at them, too aware of Eddie's wince as he unlocked his phone, his bright background of him and Richie sunbathing last summer, hitting his eyes painfully, as the sun glared off his sunglasses in the picture. The ache behind his eyes worsened as he scrolled. Richie kissed his shoulder, patting his stomach.

"Bill's trying to get me to prostitute myself." Ben sipped his tea.

"What's your price?"

"A book and unconditional love and attention."

"I'm offering both of those!" Bill complained, throwing up his hands.

Ben side-eyed him, a smirk curling at his mouth, "Mhm maybe, but Bev can give me more than just cuddling."

"No she can't," Eddie cut in, squinting at his screen. He held his finger on something for a second, before he flipped his phone around to show the two of them the picture - Bev's peaceful face, smiling sleepily as she laid on Stan, evidently being him as by the array of golden curls in the corner of the picture, the caption simply being 'nap time' and several sleeping emojis. Eddie clicked his phone off, "What is it with you people and napping, it's like 11am? Don't you sleep?"

"Do you?" Bill threw back, gesturing pointedly at Richie who was smiling smugly.

"Yes. And I'm not the one who needs a...nap..." Eddie trailed off, his hands suddenly gripping the table tip, his knuckles turning white and his eyes squeezing shut. He sucked a sharp breath through his nose, whimpering lightly, and curling into himself.

"Eds, Eddie, baby, hey hey hey," Richie flailed, cuddling Eddie up into his arms, turning him sideways so he could huddle him closer. He gave panicked looks to the boys across the table but found no answers in their equally confused and concerned faces. Eddie slowly relaxed, slumping into Richie's chest and Richie cupped his face in his hands, heart quickening in panic at he noticed the paleness of his features, "Baby, what happened, are you alright?"

"I just felt really nauseous," Eddie gritted out, his nose wrinkling in the tell-tale sign he was pushing down tears. Richie stroked his face lightly, kissed his forehead as Eddie continued to take deep breaths, determined not to have an anxiety attack in public. He looked at the ceiling blinking rapidly, "For fucks sake."

"No, no, no, baby don't cry. Please don't cry." Richie whispered, turning Eddie's face towards him kissing him gently and holding him firmly against him, hand stroking the small of his back. Eddie kissed him back a little before pulling back and sniffing deeply, unable to look at Richie's face as he gazed down at him, evident in his expression that his heart was twisting with worry for him. Richie kissed his unresponsive lips once more before puckering kisses across his cheek and temple. He eventually pulled back, pecking his nose and swiped across his forehead with his thumb, his brows coming together as he sucked his bottom lips between his teeth, "Maybe it's not just a headache."

Eddie could only shake his head, far too familiar with mother induced migraines to feel energetic enough to delve into the idiosyncrasies of them. Pressing another kiss to his forehead, Richie turned to Ben and Bill with a grim smile, "I think we're gonna go."

They nodded and Richie stood up from the booth, Eddie following him, swaying a little at the sudden motion and Richie tugged him into him, holding him around the waist. Eddie nuzzled his head into his shoulder, sighing deeply and gathering his bearings. Mostly though, he was trying to keep his firm hold on Richie while focusing on not vomiting on him.

I want to hold you So much closer than I dare do

He flinched a little at Bill's hand patting his hip and looked up to Ben and Bill's sympathetic smiles, "Get better soon Eds."

"Thanks, guys," Eddie murmured, eyes half closed and leaning against Richie. Richie kissed the top of his head and started to lead him towards to door, shooting a farewell smile and finger gun on his shoulder at Ben and Bill.

They watched as Audra flew over, a box of leftovers in her hands that she passed to Richie, her fingers running through Eddie's hair. Her lips moved with distant words, curved into a warm smile and Richie hugged her briefly with one arm, blowing a kiss to Patty who waved from behind the counter, a customer demanding her attention. Audra gave Eddie a sweet kiss on the cheek before moving away from them and waving them out of the door, her face twisted in adorable worry. When she returned to the counter the customer was leaving allowing Patty to cup her face in her small pale hands and kiss her softly.

Bill revolved back around with a soft sigh and stole a glance to his side to see Ben's gaze stuck ahead at the spot where Richie and Eddie were previously sitting. With a smile curving around the rim of his mug, his eyes twinkled and Bill's stomach jumped.

"I know th-that look, what?" He asked eagerly.

I get ideas, yes, I get ideas

"I just had an idea," He sipped purposefully, deliberately keeping Bill on the edge of his seat, brows scrunched frustratingly at the action, "A way to find out whether Stan likes you too."

"What?"

Ben pulled out his phone, eyes lit with excitement and began to furiously tap on it, "We'll need some help though."

"Ben, hold on, what's the plan?"

Ben looked up and met his gaze, "We're gonna pull a Florence Nightengale."

"A what?"

For that's the whole idea, it's true The lovely idea That I'm falling in love with you

[TAG LIST: @stevekeeryngton , @biancavlove]

[richie-txzier]

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Prompt: This is just a little series I’ve decided to write based on once morning. It’s sort of a continuation of the Reddie one-shot I’ve linked below that I wanted to expand into the Stanlon I hinted in it and then I realised I want to do more ships that would have happened at that sleepover lmao.

Words: 899

Note: Based on the quote: “...Stan joining her with the notion of waking up Mike because “He wanted to help make pancakes,” but the three of them knew that was only Stanley talk for, “I just want to go cuddle up into his strong, warm arms for a few more minutes before I have to face the cruelty of daytime.”.”

Written by: Admin Tozier <3

Parts: Reddie Version , Stanlon Version , Benverly Version, Billdra Version

A roaring yawn ripped from Stan's throat as he scratched his chest, starting to climb the stairs of the Hanlon farm. He could hear the metallic banging and sleepy laughter from the kitchen as he guessed Richie and Eddie had finally joined the others to make breakfast meaning he only had a few minutes. He made his way up the stairs, hazel eyes locating the bedroom and he padded over to it, knocking lightly.

"Come in," Called a groggy voice and Stan's body immediately slumped, desiring the sleepy boy on the other side.

As the door opened, Stan was met with the most angelic sight. Mike was sprawled across his bed, evidently having just woken up and stretched given that his sweatpants were pushed lower on his hips, revealing bare dark hip bones and a trail of hair disappearing under the waistband, and his arms were far above his head, one bent over his head the other dangling over the edge to leave his golden glowing bare chest invitingly open. Mike's head tilted to meet his eyes, and a sleepy, slow grin spread across his mouth and Stan felt like he was melting into the floor, "Mornin' Stan."

Stan hurriedly shook his head and walked over towards him with purpose, "No, it's not the morning yet."

Mike chuckled, face so bright and voice so rough, "Guess you gotta come back to bed then, huh, babe?"

Stan hummed happily and quickly climbed onto his bed, straddling his waist. He took a moment to admire the boy below him, squinting up at him with shining dark eyes, a dimpled smouldering smile, and a smooth expanse of rich bronze skin under his starkly contrasting ivory palms. Mike must have noticed his, what he thought was controlled, gooey gaze sliding across him as his lips quirked, "Are we gonna cuddle or not?"

With an affectionate roll of his eyes, Stan gently tugged Mike's arm that was resting on his forehead down so he could droop onto him, his shoulder tucking under his thick arm, the other's arm bracketing his side and rest his head on his shoulder, nosing at his throat. Mike hummed comfortably, hugging Stan close against him with both arms. One of his hands' fingers trailed down his back while the other twirled through his tight blonde curls.

With his head nuzzled into Mike's neck and his eyes closed he could almost forget that it was day at all; it was 5am, the sky still dark, the house quiet except for the light breaths of Mike above his head, the room still slightly cool, just enough so that he can cuddle further into Mike's arms and feel comfortably warm and safe with all the time in the world to fall back asleep. He could feel the small tufts of Mike's breath and a light kiss on his forehead and slide one of his legs from their beginning to ache position bunched around Mike's hips, to slot one between Mike's spread bulky thighs, the other slacking to a straighter pose.

"Hey," Mike said softly, hand squeezing his hip, "Sit up a sec."

With a great reluctance, Stan removed his head from Mike's warm skin, jerkily enough for his curls to bounce around his face, "Hm?"

Mike suddenly met him with a soft kiss, his lips pressing against his mouth with smooth innocence, as if he was merely caressing Stan's lips with his own. Stan sighed into it, parting his lips slightly to draw his velvet mouth slightly deeper into his. Mike pulled away after a few seconds with a small wet noise, and nudged his nose against his, half-closed eyes meeting his with pliant affection, "I love you."

Immediately, Stan felt like curling into himself and giggling hysterically like a cringy teenager, but instead, he softened considerably into Mike's arm, smiling like silly and his cheeks flushing with pink. He leaned forward to kiss Mike for a second, pushing a little harder against him so their noses squished together and muttered, "I love you too."

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Stan huffed into Mike's mouth, Mike chuckling back, his eyes not leaving him as he called out, "Come in!"

"Morning Mikey, Stangelina." Richie popped his head around the door, hair still wayward and glasses crooked but a more awake smile spread across his mouth, "You gays hungry?"

"Pancakes?" Mike asked, his voice strained as he sat the both of them up, but a hopeful smile on his face.

"Yup!"

"Yess."

"Speaking of gays," Stan began as he slid off Mike's lap, attempting to stand up only for Mike to pull him back between his legs and kiss at his back, "Weren't you attached to yours?"

"I'm still here." Richie pulled the door wider to show Eddie on Richie's back, positions seemingly reversed from downstairs as his shorter tanned arms and legs were tight around Richie's body and was nuzzled into Richie's neck, "He demanded I came."

"Yeah, you look really annoyed," Mike commented, something that would have been dry and painfully sarcastic if Stan had said it, but seemed like fonder when he did - especially with the charming smile graced across his lips. Eddie giggled and reached a hand to up pat Richie's head, making him chuckle and twist his head to kiss Eddie's cheek. Pushing their noses together after, Richie stared at Eddie with a fully loving expression, Eddie biting his lip through his strong smile and pink cheeks before Richie was kissing him softly, their tongues brushing.

"Not to interrupt this love fest but: food?" Stan intervened. Richie and Eddie looked back up to see the two of them stood waiting in front of them as they were blocking the doorway, Mike's arm around Stan's waist and looking at them with juxtaposing looks: Stan's eyebrows scrunched and lips pursed and Mike's peaceful amused smile and raised brows.

Richie flipped them off and shuffled off, his hands on Eddie's thighs and no doubt Eddie's lips on his neck, "Just come down before they're gone." He called back at them.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Stan suddenly felt Mike's lips on his neck, sucking soundly up the pale skin with enough pressure to have Stan give a soft mewl and lean back into his arms, but Mike quickly pulled away, looked at him for a moment with satisfaction, before moving towards the door. Stan stood shocked, his neck warm. Mike shrugged at his expression, "I really want to make out with you, but also: pancakes."

Stan sighed, smirk tugging at his mouth, and accepted Mike's hand, "Fine," He stepped towards him, raking his fingers down Mike's torso and pressing a kiss to his collarbone. Mike shivered and Stan smirked, "But we're making out later."

"Absolutely."

[richie-txzier]

Can I get some really fluffy reddie cuddles at a losers club sleepover. Plus sleepy richie being sappy AF. Just,,,some tooth-rotting fluff please. 🤗🤗🤗

Prompt: ^^

Words: 1331

Note: My Brain: You can’t put Bev and Stan in every Reddie story! Me: Watch. Me. 

Written by: Admin Tozier

Parts: Reddie Version , Stanlon Version , Benverly Version, Billdra Version

Waking up that morning, Richie squinted as to adjust to the light and found his arms empty. With a grouchy groan, he stumbled out of his sleeping bag (or their sleeping bag, he should say, given that he and Eddie had zipped the two of theirs together) and went on an immediate hunt for his boy.

Richie wandered blearily into the living room, fluffing up his bed-hair as he went and adjusted his glasses on his nose, eyes peering through the thick lenses. Immediately he spotted a mass of curly dark hair atop a small form drowning in a shirt he recognised as his own, sat cross-legged on the floor, and holding a hand of cards. Offhandedly, he noticed Beverly and Stan sat across from him, holding cards as well, with a pile in the middle.

Eddie sniffed lightly, raising a hand to push the hair out his face, “Got any threes, Bev?”

“Go fish,” Bev muttered with a yawn as she rested her chin the bare knee she had propped up.

Richie ignored the game as he flopped down behind Eddie, slotting his legs around Eddie’s to press his front into Eddie’s back. Eddie hardly reacted as he slid his arms around Eddie’s stomach, tossed off his glasses and nuzzled his nose into his shoulder. Eddie leaned back a little into his chest and twisted his head to press a kiss to his ringlet covered temple, “Mornin’ Rich.”

“Mhm, S'ghetti.” Was all Eddie caught as Richie mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around his waist.

“Got any kings, Stan?” The was a rustle of movement but all Richie could see was Eddie’s glorious half bared thighs and his hand of card couples and singles. He slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt to be met with the smooth softness of Eddie’s slightly squishy stomach and stroked him lightly, hugging him tighter as to tug him back further into him so he could reach to press a kiss on the side of his neck.

“Got any aces, Eds?” Bev turned her attention to Eddie as she rearranged her hand of cards to incorporate her new couple of kings.

“Uh,” Eddie searched through his wad of cards, his focus wavering however at the brushing of Richie’s lips against his neck and his fingers trailing across his ribs. He reached up to tug at one of his drooping curls, “Cut it out. I’m tryin’ to win.”

Richie only whined lightly, his arms, if possible, constricting him more as he seemed to try to mould himself against Eddie’s back, legs moving to cross over his and arms wrapped almost twice around Eddie’s bare torso. He mumbled incoherently into Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie sighed lightly, quickly tossing his card to Bev so he could turn his attention to Richie.

Kissing his hair, patting his arms and sweeping his fingers over Richie’s thigh caught his attention and he groaned into Eddie’s neck. His brows furrowed, “You okay, baby?” He whispered, nose in his curls.

Slowly, Richie lifted his head, the appearance being a great reluctance to move away from Eddie’s hot skin revealed by his large shirt falling over his shoulder. He kissed it lightly, lingering his lips up the juncture of his shoulder, the side of his throat and against his jaw, and Eddie hummed lightly. When his mouth reached his ear he whispered, voice groggy with sleep and affection, “Jus’ love my S'ghetti.”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, a wide smile spread across his mouth, his fingers stroking gently against their place on Richie’s leg. He tried to hide to intense happiness in his voice, “Rich.”

He felt more than heard Richie’s gravelly chuckle against his jaw, head ducking back into his shoulder, “S'true.”

Eddie pecked Richie’s temple, nudging his nose into his hurricane of wiry curls, burying his smile there, “Love you too.” He could feel Richie’s mouth quirk and his face heat into his bare shoulder.

“Hey Eddie, got any privacy?” Stan’s dry voice slid through, his smirk evident in his tone and Eddie heard Bev smother a snort behind her cards.

Eddie could only hum, nuzzling his face further into Richie’s hair, his eyes falling closed as his comforting natural smell, that, admittedly, was mostly sweat and warm hair, filled his senses and he murmured, “Hmm, go fish.”  

Bev groaned, dropping her cards and stretching her arms far above her head until her back popped, her voice strained as a result, “That was cheesy as fuck, Eds.”

Shrugging with one shoulder, Eddie picked up his head with a seemingly unmovable smile sculpted across his mouth, “Saw an opportunity, ‘n I took it.”

Bev leaned back on her arms, rolling her neck as to rid the inevitable stiffness that came with sleeping on the floor, the only padding being an old sleeping bag, her own scarlet fluff of hair wild around her face, “I’m hungry.”

“Make some food,” Stan replied nonchalantly, tossing his cards into the pile between them, realising the game was pretty much over.

Bev snorted, “Do I look like the sort of person who cooks?”

“Don’t sell yourself so short, Bev, you can make a mean bowl of cereal.”

“You’re a real supportive friend, Stan.”

“It’s my role in this friendship group.”

“Clearly.”

“Moving on from this sarcasm battle,” Eddie cut in, massaging his fingers into Richie’s hair while the boy gave small delighted hums and moans, “Maybe we should find someone who can cook?”

“Richie can.” Stan pointed out, gesturing lazily with the full pile of cards to the gangly boy interwoven around Eddie’s body. Richie grumbled, mumbling something into Eddie’s neck that he translated as “I’m not your fucking maid, Stanley.” or something equally as witty yet slightly inaccurate.

“I’m afraid Richard is indisposed at the moment.”  

“Yeah, he’s already full on spaghetti,” Bev muttered, making Stan snort and Richie shake with laughter, wobbling Eddie. Eddie clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes.

“He’s infecting you.” But the malice behind the words was lost in the gooey gaze Eddie kept looking over at him and the sweet kisses he would continue to grant on any surface available on him.

Soon Bev stood up, shaking her legs to get the feeling back as to go see if anyone else was awake, Stan joining her with the notion of waking up Mike because “He wanted to help make pancakes,” but the three of them knew that was only Stanley talk for, “I just want to go cuddle up into his strong, warm arms for a few more minutes before I have to face the cruelty of daytime.”. This left Richie and Eddie still glued to together in the living room, Richie position buried into Eddie’s shoulder, unmoved.

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, poking his thigh. Groggily, Richie lifted his head, hair falling his eyes which Eddie gently pushed away to tuck behind his ear. Richie kissed as his hand, “How’d you sleep?”

“Hm, good.” He murmured, eyes still half closed as he peered at Eddie. Eddie smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth, fingers drifting across his jaw.

“You guys coming?” The two looked up to see Ben stood in the doorway, dishcloth in hand, not only the scent of sizzling pancakes following him but also a sleep-rumpled Bill clamped to his back. Ben reached up to pat his head when he shifted his position in Ben’s neck, staring still pointedly at the both of them.

“Yeah, give us a sec.” Ben nodded and shuffled back into the kitchen, waddling a little as Bill tried to match his pace. Eddie turned back to Richie, and lightly patted his hands that were still wrapped around his torso, “Come on, you parasite, let’s get you some food.”

Struggling a little as Richie refused to let him go, Richie grumbled as they stumbled towards the kitchen, “I would say I’m more like a koala.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, kissed his cheek and dragged him towards the kitchen, “Maybe an octopus.”

“I’ll take it.”

[richie-txzier]

Hey there! You haven't posted in a while but I wanted to request something because you are the Queen of soft!Eddie?? Just some hurt/comfort of sick Eddie and RIchie taking care of him? BONUS: Eddie just mumbling but Richie understanding what he's saying because they're so ~in sync~ thank you!! xx

Prompt: ^^

Words: 1348

Note: GUESS WHO’S BACK. BACK AGAIN. It’s me, your resident dumbass procrastinator. You are more than correct Anon and I’m sorry it’s been so long! I’ve been writing in this lil hiatus but all of it isn’t anyTHING WORTH POSTING AGH. But have this because you got me with the Soft!Eddie shit. He’s a little fist-throwing spitfire but he. Is. Soft. Too.

Written by: Admin Tozier

When Eddie shuffled into the living room suddenly every bit of attention that Richie had held for the movie, even if it wasn’t much, was switched swiftly to him, emphasised as to how his whole body gravitated towards him. Stan and Beverly had similar reactions; Stan reaching for the remote to turn the volumes down several notches, and Beverly ceasing her soothing circles into Richie’s hand. They all watched with heavy hearts as Eddie rubbed a small fist against his eye, sniffing lightly, his other hand reaching to tug down Richie’s sweater back over his hands.

“Hiya, honey.” Richie cooed softly, reaching out a hand towards him, his fingertips just grazing his hip. Eddie mustered a smile that resembled more of a grimace than anything but Richie felt his heart sing either way, especially when Eddie slipped his hand into his, “Did ya have a nice nap? How’re you feeling?”

Richie’s heart crumbled a little when he watched Eddie shake his head and pad slowly and miserably around the couch arm to face him. Pinkish eyes met his and Eddie coughed gently, twisting his head to muffle it into his shoulder, his voice, as a result, croaking out hoarsely, “Chee.”

Muttering a sad, “Oh baby,” Richie gently dragged Eddie’s hips towards him until he spilt into Richie’s lap. Watching with a heavy heart, Eddie ducked his head to settle into his brightly-coloured chest and curled his legs up to bump his knees against his chin, Richie wrapping his arms around Eddie’s softly padded back and one over his stomach to hold him securely against him.

“Than’s for lettin’ me stay ‘ver.” Eddie mumbled as he nuzzled further into Richie’s collarbone, sniffing harshly.

“No no, no thank you necessary, my sick lil’ spaghetti,” Richie said softly, kissing the top of his head, his thumb stroking against face; over his cheekbones, his eyelids, his eyebrows and into the roots of his slightly sweaty hair, “Can’t have you staying with your mother when you’re like this.”

Eddie groaned at even the thought and Richie chuckled, tilting his head up with the hand on his face to kiss his nose. Eddie crinkled his nose, “No, don’, tha’s gross.”

Richie nudged his nose against his, “You’re gross.”

“I know!” Eddie cried, but the sudden elevation of his voice made the thickness of his throat clog suddenly as he dissolved into a bout of harsh chesty coughs. Richie quickly sat up straighter, one hand rubbing up and down his trembling back, the other motioning for Beverly to pass him the bottle of water from the coffee table. He passed it to Eddie once it was given to him, Eddie drinking it carefully, letting the cool water soothe and clear his throat.

“Sorry,” Richie muttered once Eddie pulled back from the rim, spit webbing from the opening and Richie wordlessly moved his hand to wipe his mouth. Eddie batted his hand, frowning further.

“S'op bein’ gross!” Eddie huffed, but still snuggled back into Richie, his nose pressed against the column of his pale throat. He felt Richie press a kiss to his damp temple.

“Never.” And could Eddie could hear the smile in his voice.

A few moments passed, filled with Beverly reaching over to massage lightly at Eddie’s socked feet, her sending a kind smile when he managed to catch her eye, the distant tapping of Stan on his phone from the other side of the room, the murmurings of the dialogue from the low-volume film, and the slow, steady breathes of Richie from under him paired with the gentle stroking of his hands and fingers over his back, shoulders, hair and hips. But soon the chill of his sickness settled back into his body, the cosiness of his big hoodie and the body it belonged to holding him not stopping the shiver that rattled through his body.

He whimpered lightly as goosebumps erupted across his skin, trying to shuffle further into Richie’s embrace, “Honey, you okay?” Richie murmured to him, helping him by moving forward on the seat a little so he could lean back and Eddie could curl into him snugly.

Eddie nosed at his throat, “’M col’.”

“I got ya, baby,” Richie reassured him briefly, kissing his temple, “Stanny, can you toss me that blanket?”

From the other side of Eddie, he heard a soft hum, before Richie’s arm was suddenly away from his back and the two of them rocked as Richie caught the wad of the blanket. The momentary second of coldness was quickly smothered and more by the soft blanket that swathed him, sinking into the crevices of his body and clinging to him in the warmest of ways.

Richie’s hands resumed their previous positions to bracket his body flush against his. In response, Eddie hummed happily, nuzzling into Richie’s neck, hands fisting into the back of his shirt and knees curling to press against Richie’s side. Richie chuckled lightly, kissing his hair, “Cute.”

In retaliation, Eddie pinched his back making Richie jumped a little, snorting, and Eddie had to sit up to stop from getting his nose bumped by Richie’s chest. They settled back into their position, Eddie smirking victoriously, but cringed a little when he laid back down and felt his nose start to run, “Sorry, 'f I ge’ snot'n 'u.’”

Richie merely shrugged, pushing Eddie’s head down gently into his collar, “I don’t mind. Cover me with your mucus, baby!”

Eddie’s eyes slipped closed and he whispered, “Gross.” Richie chuckled.

For a few minutes, Eddie got lost in the calming moment, the fogginess in his head overtaking everything and the warmth of Richie’s body heat encompassing him meaning the fatigue that had been nagging at his brain finally engulfed him. Richie must have felt him slump significantly and his body fall heavier as he pressed a kiss to his ear and murmured, “You tired, baby?”

Eddie could only whimper lightly in reply. Another kiss to the shell of his ear, “You wanna go upstairs?

Another whimper, its pitch lower than the first and Richie nodded in understanding, tightening his arms around him, fingers threading through his cold, damp hair.

"How can you understand him?” Stan’s voice cut through and Richie looked up to see that Beverly had moved from her spot next to them to join Stan on the perpendicular couch, her head on his lap and his fingers neatly filed through her crimson curls.

“Hm?” Richie asked confusion painted across his features.

Stan rolled his eyes fondly sat him, disbelieving of his obliviousness, looking back down for a moment as he scratched his nails lightly against Bev’s scalp making her eyelids flutter and sink into the pillow across Stan’s lap. He kept his gaze on his working in the scarlet ringlets, eyes affectionate, “Everything that Eddie has said has been close to incoherent, especially just then. How can you know what he means?”

Richie blinked, his position mirroring Stan’s then to turn down to the boy huddled into his arms, napping lightly as he could see his nose twitching and feel his fingers flex. He sighed, smiling a little at him, and gently removed his right arm from around his body so he could lace their fingers together. Eddie stirred, sniffed and murmured, “Mm, Chee.”

His whole body seemed to soften. He placed a kiss on his head, burying his nose in his hair, “Guess I just know him too well.”

Stan hummed in response, Beverly’s light snores tumbling from her lips, but Stan’s actions didn’t cease and he decided to instead settle his head back on the back of the couch, watching with unfocused eyes as the credits began to roll on the movie, “Thanks for inviting us to this cuddle party.”

Richie shook his head, turning his head to rest his cheek on Eddie’s hair so he could face Stan. Their eyes met, “Thanks for staying and keeping me sane.”

Stan chuckled lightly, nodding, “You really need to learn how to calm down every time anything happens to Eddie.”

Richie snorted. He watched Eddie’s peaceful face for a moment before pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek, “Never.”

[richie-txzier]

I love the person who did this. HAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

[richie-txzier]

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This (Who Am I To Disagree?)

Original Request: Can you do a Stenbrough soulmate story?!! I loved the Reddie one so much it was great.

Requester: @propertyofthelosersclub

Pairing(s): Bill Denbrough x Stan Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak x Richie Tozier

Warning: Disgusting flirting

Author: Admin Tozier

Note: So after a million year, finally, here is part two! Sorry, it took so long, I wasn’t happy with it when I first wrote it so I left it for a bit before going back to it, but I think I’ve got everything down I want now so I hope you’ll enjoy it! Next chap is when we start the plot lmao. 

Side Note: If Bill and Stan are together, does that mean Audra and Patty are together? Yes, I agree also :) Also, Audra’s character has been changed, for the most part, sort of inspired by Deborah from Baby Driver is what I realised whoops, but I love her and I hope you do too!

Paraprosexia , Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (YOU ARE HERE), Chapter 3 

The diner was quiet; the tinkling of the bell over the door only adding to the delicate atmosphere set by the soft and gentle colours of the 50s-esque restaurant. The white glow of artificial lights were almost comforting after the harsh yellow sunlight the two boys had stepped out of; the thought of a polished and sterile environment like a breath of fresh air so to speak - a clean slate which Bill could start his day again. Most importantly, with pancakes; the sweet and buttery smell of the sizzling batter wafting around the warm and mostly barren diner. Most of the booths were empty, cushy red sofa chairs calling out to his exhausted form, edging him to just collapse and nap on the plush surface. At the far corner, a booth with a clear view of a wide window out to the car park and further to the highway and then further to the rolling hills and forests of the outskirts of Derry, sat a chubby boy, hands, half covered by his jumper, clasped around a steaming mug. A book propped open to his left, unread, as his eyes shone with the pale light of the earlyish morning, a peaceful smile curled across his soft features. Bill almost didn't want to disturb him. "BEN!" Fucking Richie. 

Ben's head snapped towards them, the light illuminating the side of his face to highlight his growing smile, form subconsciously hunching into itself but his eyes showed no concern, "Hey guys. Oh, happy birthday, Bill!" Bill smiled at him, ignoring the tightness of dried tears in his cheeks, "Th-thanks, Ben." Richie strode towards him, a pat on Bill's back encouraging him forward as well, a bright grin radiating through his features. He slipped easily into the seat next to the boy, Bill taking his seat across from them with less grace and more awkward shuffling. Bill crossed his arms on the table and rested his chin on the pile of his wrists to stare up at Richie tilting his head on Ben's shoulder and smiling up at him, "How's my best friend this morning?" Ben's cheeked coloured and a delighted smile gracing his features, "M'fine." Richie's head twisted further to nudge at Ben's collarbone, his neck attempting to stretch to look at his book, "Watcha reading, Haystack?" Ben promptly flipped the book shut and that caught Bill's interest as Ben's cheeks flushed further, "Nothing. It's nothing." Richie's pulled back, his eyes narrowed, "Wellll, now I'm suspicious-" Luckily, Ben was saved by the soft approaching steps of the waitress, the first attribute Bill caught being the startling clean white apron she had tried around her waist, a shocking contrast against the dark crimson skirt fluttering around her creamy thighs. Her hand plunged into her apron's front pocket to pull out a small notebook and Bill's eyes followed her hand upwards to meet teal eyes brushed by a neat full auburn fringe, as she took the pen from behind her ear. She flashed perfect teeth in a polite smile, a twirl of copper hair falling into her face and she tucked it behind her ear. "G'mornin' fellas, what can I getcha?" She asked, voice honey-like with an accent too Southern to be local. Richie plucked the menu out of the centrepiece to scan it without actually reading it. "Sure, doll, I'd like to Audra a stack of-" Richie was cut off by the waitress smacking his swiftly around the back of his head with her notebook. She glared at him, the effect mostly lost by the amused smirk pulled across her lips. "Wouldja stop makin' that joke Tozier, it's'not even funny." She berated but Richie only grinned up at her. She rolled her eyes and started to scribble something down, "Lemme guess: A tall stack of choc'late chip pancakes, butter between each and syrup on the side?" "You know me so well, dear." Richie cooed, but then looked back at the menu and actually seemed to flick through it properly now, "But add a short stack of strawberry pancakes with cream, aaaaa," His eyes directed at Bill across from him, narrowing in thought as he jostled the side of the menu with rhythmic fingers. His face suddenly brightened, "A short stack of banoffee pancakes with chocolate sauce, and then finally, ummm," He turned to Ben, "What'd'ya want, Haystack?" Ben seemed surprised at the offer, "Nothing for me thanks, I've got my tea." "And finally another pot of tea for my healthy friend here. Thanks, doll!" Richie brightly finished, holding out the menu for her to take as she wrote down the last of his order. She took it from him with short, neatly manicured fingers painted a modest dark pink, tucking it under her arm and shot them a last polite smile. "I'll get those for ya." And with that, she sashayed off. "Got any fries for that shake?" Richie called after her with a rambunctious grin, it widening as the waitress laughed loudly, hollering back a "Fuck off, Tozier,". Richie turned back to the table to see Bill's confused, perplexed and slightly angry look, and he frowned, "What?" "Are you suh-sure you should be ffflirting with the wuh-waitress? What about Eddie?" Bill asked, sitting up straighter, his eyes growing cold and hard as he glared with the protectiveness only matched by the curly haired boy sat across from him. "What? Audra?" Richie suddenly gave a bark of laughter, "Audra is the last person Eddie needs to worry about me running off with. Trust me." "And why's that?" Bill pressed, not so easily charmed by Richie's natural charisma as what he believed he was using extensively and grossly on the waitress even with a very serious boyfriend. Before Richie could reply the bell over the door tinkled as another person entered the diner and Bill watched Richie's gaze float over his shoulder, his expression suddenly melting to a purely soft and ecstatic look, giving Bill complete inclination over who just walked in the door. He leaned over the booth with his arm draped over the back and watched the small but tall-standing boy sweep his eyes around the diner before they settled on them, or most specifically over Bills head, his face lighting up. He began to speak in his usual rattling quick stream of conversation as he made his way towards them, looking a bit more sleep-rustled than he usually did with a pair of faded blue overalls pulled over Richie's dark green jumper he still wore from bed. But then again it was Sunday morning, and Buttercups wasn't anywhere fancy, "You guys would not fucking believe what I've had to deal with this morning. My fucking mother was screaming about some fucking tree in my neighbour’s yard that was dropping apples into our backyard, which, apparently, is a massive fucking deal. AND I spent all morning intensely craving strawberry pancakes, like, to the point of if I don't get some right at this minute I think I'm going to fucking explode-" "Well then I hope you a have a ring handy because you are about to propose to me, Richie Tozier, the best boyfriend in all of the US of A." Richie interrupted, smiling smugly as he caught Eddie by the hips when the smaller boy made it to the table, dragging him into his lap. Eddie wiggled a little to get comfortable, the large seats not making it too difficult as all Richie had to do was scoot all the way back and open his legs for Eddie to fit between them (their usual sitting position anyway). Eddie leaned his head back on Richie's shoulder to turn to look up at him, his eyebrows pinched and mouth slightly pursed in the adorable way Richie adored, and the taller boy showed it by the sickly sweet way his face seem to melt further into a heavenly soft look directed solely at him, all love focused onto the small kiss on the tip of Eddie's nose, "And why's that?" "All in due time, doll." Richie drawled, smiling languidly, nudging Eddie's nose with his own. Bill was really fucking confused now. Firstly, the gnawing thoughts of his soulmate situation swirled around the back of his mind, momentarily forgotten in the calm atmosphere of the quiet road-side diner, but were slowly rumbling their way back as he watched Richie and Eddie snuggle and flirt unashamedly; the sudden and spiking panic licking at his insides, flashing images of his Soulmate's face making their inevitable meeting at some point fill him with dread. Secondly, he swore he just realised that he witnessed some kind of infidelity from his best friend against his other best friend, refer back to the snugglers, that made anger burn his insides at the blatant change of affection from Richie. And thirdly, he was really fucking hungry, and the anxiety and the fury were all culminating into prickling of annoyance and frustration he could only express through the tone of his voice. So he did. "Whuh-what the FFFUCK, Richard." He snapped, and the three people across from him looked over in alarm. "What?" Richie asked, genuine confusion spreading across his face. "D-Don't 'wuh-what' me, Tozier! How the fffuck can you fflirt with Audra and then just suh-suddenly bounce back stuh-staring and kissing E-Eddie all luh-lovey-dovey?! Does 'Suh-Soulmates' mean nothing to you?" He demanded the last remark maybe bleeding a bit more of his true thoughts than he intended. Bill heard a click of a tongue from in front of him and turned, lips parted ready to snap at Ben when the unamused blue eyes stared back at him, his words stick in his throat. Ben settled down his mug and kept his gaze locked on Bill as he spoke, succinctly, with just enough inflexion to emphasise the words as to make Bill properly listen. Bill suddenly realised that Ben really was born to be a poet, "Firstly Bill, there has been no evidence of flirting;  Richie acts just as amiable with everyone, maybe he was a bit overly provocative in his comments this time, but that's because they're close friends. Something you would know if you realised how often Richie comes here. Secondly, something you do know is that of course Soulmates mean a lot to Richie; we all can see how in love with Eddie he is. He looks at him like he hung the fucking stars in the sky for God's sake. And lastly, I don't really appreciate your tone, " Ben's voice suddenly softened as he leaned towards Bill, "I think this has something to do with your Soulmate, which, don't worry, we're here for you. Just... don't take it out on us, okay? We're your friends and we love you, but you need to take a chill pill." He took a sip of his tea, "Now, apologise to Richie." Bil's mouth opened and closed stupidly as he comprehended how Ben Hanscom had just scolded him, before somewhat robotically turning to Richie and saying, "Suh-sorry, Richie." "That's okay, I love you, Bill." Richie said offhandedly as he stared at Ben, admiration filling his features, "Eddie?" Eddie had a similar expression to Richie, eyes wide with surprise, "Yeah?" "I'm leaving you for Ben." "Fair enough." For a moment it was quiet, and then the four of them laughed, Bill chuckling, Eddie and Richie falling into one another, and Ben smiling into his tea, a little pink in the face. "Wait, wait," Bill shook his head, laugh lightening with a small chuckle, waving his hands in front of him, "Whuh-what about Auh-Audra?" Eddie's giggle only hardened and Richie gazed at him in adoring wonder, a small smile on his face, "Audra Phillips? You mean Derry's biggest lesbian?" "You talkin' 'bout me, short stack?" Audra reappeared at the table, an amused smile on her face and a tray balanced in her hands. Eddie beamed up at her, cheeks pinkening when she placed the tray carefully on their table and ruffled his hair. "Just about your 'overt homosexuality'." He teased and Audra laughed, firstly placing the teapot on the table, shaking her hands to rid of the fleeting prickle of a burn from the scolding metal. "Careful, that's hot, honey," She warned Ben kindly and he flushed at the sweet pet name, nodding, "And I'd hope so. It's my best and only personality trait!" She placed the last of the plates of pancakes on the table, unsure of who's was who's so settled for them all in the middle to take accordingly, and tucked the tray under her arm, an easy soft pink smile spreading across her lips, "Can I get y'all anythin' else?" A crease deepened between Eddie's eyebrows as he blinked roughly at the table top, "Could I have a glass of water? I've got a banging headache." "Oh honey, of course," She cooed softly, both her and Richie mirroring his expression but lined with deep concern. Richie gently kissed his temple, relaxing Eddie's face as he rubbed soothing circles into his stomach. Audra's blue gaze swept across the table once more, "Anythin' for any else?" "I don't think so, Audra, thank you," Ben replied, smiling nicely at her. She nodded before leaving, off to evidently get Eddie his drink. "I know something that will help your mother induced headache, sweetums," Richie said succinctly but with barely controlled enthusiasm across from him, pulling Bill from his wistful thoughts. Eddie gave a tired smile. "What?" Richie reached over to slide the plate of round, fluffy and pink pancakes, a dollop of neat cream swirled on the top with even a dusting of pink sprinkles courtesy of Audra's personal flair. Eddie's face lit up, his eyes hungrily following the dish as it was placed in front of him and he twisted to stare up at Richie with a wonder-filled expression, bursting with sickly sweet affection. Richie drank it in with an adoring smile. "You talk in your sleep." He explained softly and Eddie grinned harder. "You dream about strawberry pancakes?" Ben asked curiously and Eddie looked at him with disbelief. "Have you had Buttercup's strawberry pancakes? They're literally my Soulmate." He declared reaching over to grab the little pot of golden syrup. Richie passed him some cutlery with a pout. "Current Soulmate here, and I feel a bit offended that I'm not as good as fruit flavoured fried flour mixture." "That's just something you're gonna have to get used to." Richie's eyes narrowed, "Well, can your pancakes do this?" He leant in to kiss him, succinctly yet softly, a firm open-mouthed kiss that left Eddie a little breathless. Richie pulled away with a smirk. A flirty smile tugged at Eddie's mouth, "Hmm, you are just as sweet." Bill smacked his forehead on the table with a groan, "Th-that was disgusting E-Eddie." He heard Eddie's tinkling laughter joined by Ben's light giggle at Bill's continuous headbanging, making the cutlery rattle and a bead of tea fall over the rim of Ben's tea. He didn't have to look up to know that Richie had buried his flustered face in Eddie's shoulder. For someone who flirts with everyone, he certainly goes from Casanova to a blushy virgin at one smooth comment. Audra returned to the table in the midst of the scene, a questioning look on her face at Bill groaning into the wood, Ben chuckling into his tea, Richie nuzzling into Eddie's neck with flushed cheek and Eddie smugly eating his pancakes. She settled the glass down in front of Eddie, flashing him a smile, before turning to the rest of them, "Y'all okay?" They all shook their heads, and she graced them with a sweet smile, her eyes lingering a little on Bill's, eyelashes fluttering as if she had just completely noticed his presence. Her smile tugged higher at him in response and Bill smiled back, "Th-thanks, Audra." "No problem, um," She floundered as she searched her mind for his name. "Bill," He supplied. She smiled. "Bill," She nodded at him before walking back to the kitchens, no doubt to prepare Eddie's drink and Bill felt strangely drawn to her, his gaze following her across the diner. He watched as she slipped behind the counter towards the girl behind the cash register and walked over to place her hand on her back, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Scarlet erupted from the pale skin as the girl smiled bashfully at Audra, who grinned back as if Christmas had come early. "That's Audra's girlfriend, Patty," Ben told him, looking at him over his mug. Bill nodded, his gaze still stuck to Audra, and he wasn't completely sure why. He watched as Audra moved away from her, turning around to use the drink dispensers, and saw how the girl adjusted her thin wired large round glasses, twirling her long dark hair, that was pulled up into high pigtails, tied by mismatched neon scrunchies, around spindly fingers. When Audra turned back around with a glass, Bill's gaze fell to the table, feeling confused and overwhelmed. He felt like in another life maybe he could fall for Audra, but here, all he could see was rusty hair coil into tight blonde curls, soft teal eyes sharpen into hazel, full pink smile twist to a plump pale smirk and dark-haired, shy, girlfriend warp into himself, blushing and grinning over the soft display of innocent adoring affection. The thought made his heart flutter and keen with want. "H-How come I've never suh-see them before?" Bill asked his plate of banoffee pancakes, frowning at the creamy chocolate that dribbled down the size to pool into a warm cocoa moat. Eddie snorted as he fed Richie as a piece of his chocolate chip pancakes, pecking his cheek, "You know, if you look outside of Stan's eyes for a couple seconds, there are other people in our school." Bill stiffened at Stan's name, his cheeks flushing, "I-I d-don't s-suh-stare at Suh-Stan!" The three of them stare across at him with similar 'are-you-fucking-serious' looks that had Bills face darkening and his breath elevating slightly. Do I really stare at him a lot? Do you think he's noticed? Is he uncomfortable? What if he thinks I'm just a creep and I'll tell him that he's my Soulmate and he'll turn me down because I'm a massive idiot who can't stop staring at his God of a best friend... Oh my god, what if he doesn't even like me? Bill hadn't even thought of that. Even if Stan was his Soulmate it still was no confirmation that that would be it. It was admittedly uncommon, but sometimes Soulmates didn't stay together, too in love with someone else or just uninterested where couple reasonable reasons. He may be in love with Stan, but that didn't mean it was returned. What if he didn't love him? What if he didn't even like him? What if--? "You okay, Bill?" He felt a hand place delicately over his, making him flinch back and look across at the kind concerned eyes of Ben, staring at him with confusion, and to his blooming horror, rising revelation as his gaze fluttered analytically around his dark cheeks, panicked expression and distant thoughts with the mention of Stan, "Bill, is-" "I'm going to the bathroom." Bill suddenly announced, standing up haphazardly from his booth on awkward feet. Richie and Eddie looked up at him from their snug embrace, chocolate smudged across Richie's mouth and a sprinkle stuck to Eddie's nose. Eddie pointed behind him with his fork, "It's around the corner there." Bill nodded and scampered off with a throbbing head and a heavy heart. "Don't fall in," Richie called after him, licking the sprinkle off of Eddie's nose making the smaller boy shriek. Bill felt Ben's eyes on his back as he disappeared behind the crimson toilet door.

[Tag list: @stevekeeryngton, Please ask if you’d like to be tagged!(: ]

[richie-txzier]

Don’t Call Me Eds (As You Wish)

         Chapter 1 ~ The Boy, The Brother, And The Book

❝That day, he was amazed to discover that when he was saying, "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day he realized he truly loved him back. Even when he called him Eds.❞

(Here’s the first chapter, or prologue more like... we’ll meet our main couple in the next chapter but I hope you enjoy regardless :D)

{Read on AO3}

Chest-heaving, rib-rattling, eye-watering hacks rumbled through the small form of Georgie Denbrough from where he was curled up on the end of his small bed. Pale blue blankets huddled around his trembling and pallid body as a small hand reached over to place the small box of tissues from where his jerking had knocked it to the floor, and he settled back into the dip of the mattress he had made from sitting there all morning. The clicking of his controller corresponded with the 8-bit sounds of knocks and baseballs flying across the pixel field, the lingering rumbles of his coughing and the small sniffs going unnoticed by the young boy.

Mrs Denbrough sighed from where she stood leaning against the door frame, watching at how Georgie's eyes were glued to the glowing screen, his tongue between his teeth in concentration, "Honey, you shouldn't be sat so close to the screen, especially when you're sick."

"Ma, I'm fine!" Georgie rasped, raising his arm to smudge his pyjama shirt under his nose, a trail of snot smeared across Elmo's face.

She clicked her tongue, unfolding her arms as she walked over to smooth down his sweaty hair and place a soft kiss to his warm forehead, "Your father and I are going out for a bit, but Bill’s here if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, ma."

"Good." She pecked his head once more before leaving his room, making her way across the landing, small heels clicking against the wooden floor.

She went to reach for the door handle of the bedroom but paused as he eyes caught the hand-made sign blaring the demand to knock before entering. Rolling her eyes fondly, she knocked lightly, "Bill?"

The door opened and revealed Bill Denbrough, his floppy fringe pushed haphazardly back to fully reveal the blue glow of his eyes, where, from his 15-year-old stature, stared parallel to her similarly coloured ones. In one hand he held a parcel, wrapped neatly and closed with short rips of tape, "Yeah, mom?"

"Keep an eye on Georgie while we're gone, won't you dear?" She asked, cupping Bill's jaw and leaning down to kiss his exposed forehead. A playful deep sigh escaped his lips.

"I was h-hoping I could neh-neglect him long enough to fuh-finally become an only child." He teased and Mrs Denbrough hummed lightly, patting his cheek.

"See you later."

"Buh-bye, mom."

Bill watched his mother descend down the stairs and listened for the dull thump of the front door closing before he scampered his way to Georgie's room. He paused briefly before he made it to the door and hid the gift behind his back, biting back a smile. With a quick knock, which was purposefully useless as the door was swung open, he caught Georgie's attention and smiled at him, "Cuh-could you p-pause your game a suh-sec?"

Georgie glared at him suspiciously before tapping the pause button, "What is it?"

He shuffled back on the bed, rearranging his duvet to settled over his legs as Bill made his way over, perching beside him, and pulled his arm from behind himself with a dramatic flair, "I made you something."

"You made it?" Bill nodded.

"Oh-open it!"

Georgie cautiously opened the gift, shedding the simple brown paper from the hard and rectangular prize, he watched as the leather bound and gold trimmed book fall into his lap. His eyebrows pinched, "A book?"

Bill smiled and nodded, taking the book from Georgie's grasp to blare the front to him. His dark blue eyes narrowed as he struggled to read the cover, his 6-year-old mouth curling around the syllables messily as he sounded out the title, "The Pr-in-ce Gr-Gr-oom. The Prince Groom!"

"Mhm!" Bill's smile brightened as he placed the book on his knee, leaning back on the headboard and opened the cover with clever fingers. Stiff ivory pages fluttered from the arched movement and George caught a glimpse at the intricate inked illustrations around the calligraphy of the title on the first page. He spotted a pitch black mask with a pair of thick glasses over two white eye holes, crossed twins of long thin swords with delicate handles entwined around the leather grips, a large hand holding a smaller ringed delicate one, a pair of rhinestones goblets filled with smoking black liquid, bottles of potions printed around the cornucopia of items acting as the border, and in the centre, a sketch of a boy, his crown, one half jewelled silver metal and the other half interwoven ivy, large, densely flowered roses, and petite, sparsely petalled daisies. The elegant prince stared out at Georgie, large eyes round with innocence but dark with a fiery courage that held Georgie in a place in awe. He pointed to the boy with a gentle hesitant finger.

"Is that the Prince Groom?" He asked, and Bill nodded, his long and more tanned finger joining Georgie's to stroke the boys face. Georgie's face suddenly brightened and he tapped the picture with rapid excitement, "I know him! It's Eddie isn't it?"

Bill chuckled and wrapped an arm around Georgie's shoulder to ruffle his hair, "Y-You got it, buddy."

"Does that mean everybody in this is going to be our friends?" Georgie blinked up at him.

"Uh huh!" Bill grinned crookedly, as he turned to the first page, "Y-You'll have to s-see who's who though."

Georgie pouted, and jumped when Bill cleared his throat, "Wait! You haven't told me what it's about yet!" His eyes flickered to his paused game, the batter stuck in the prime of his swing, "Are there sports in it?"

Bill's eyes lit up with sudden passion, a wide beam settling on his lips, "A-Are you k-kidding? F-F-Fencing. F-Fighting. Tort-torture. Revenge. Giants. Mon-Monsters. Chases. Es-Escapes. True love. Miracles."

“That sounds okay.” A yawn roared from Georgie's mouth, his eyes drooping as the sick fog clouded his head in a dull headache; the pain emerging through the seeping of heat from his warm blankets and the comfy body of his brother. He smiled sleepily, nuzzling his head into Bill's side, "I'll try to stay awake."

Bill rolled his eyes with a fond smile, flattening the centre of the pages, and shifting the book so he could hold it in one hand, the other twisting through Georgie's soft but slightly greasy light brown hair, "Thanks, Guh-Georgie. That's r-real considerate of you."

With a jumbled tongue and muddle lips, Bill began to read, "The P-Prince G-Groom, by W. Denbrough. Ch-Chapter One: Edward was raised on a smuh-small farm in the country of Duh-Derry..."

[richie-txzier]