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kafka-ish · 4 years

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a long time coming | r.t.

when a familiar face shows itself in derry, a familiar feeling picks up in richie’s heart

word count: 8,012

warnings/included: nsfw (smut, fingering, and regular vanilla sex, first time stuff), fluff (like... a conspicuous amount of fluff), fem!reader

a/n: gL gamers

y/n y/l/n was coming back to Derry.

To any other bystander, this wasn’t news. However, to Richie Tozier, it was because Richie Tozier loved y/n y/l/n.

He loved her when they were five and she had introduced herself as the girl who moved in next door. He loved her when they were ten and she made friendship bracelets for both of them (which he would later find out she made friendship bracelets for all the Losers). He loved her when they were thirteen when he should’ve spent his time running from the bullies at his toes instead. And he loved her when they were fifteen when he was writing love letters. But she’d never see them because she was away at some fancy boarding school in New York, per her parents’ request.

“I don’t see why you gotta go,” Richie said glumly. He was looking down and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. Even if this would be the last time he’d ever see her, it would be too hard to look her in the eyes.

Richie was the last one y/n told about Hoosac School. But if y/n had the option, she wouldn’t have told him at all. It was hard enough for her to bid her goodbyes to Bill, Stan, Eddie, Bev, Ben, and Mike.

Naturally, Beverly was the first one she told. She was the only other girl in the Loser’s Club and the one y/n hung out with the most aside from Richie. Beverly was a blubbering mess. The brown mascara she applied delicately was running down her cheeks in ugly streaks and her red hair would sit tangled on her head for the next few days.

Bill was next, but Bill knew everything. He found out from Bev the next day and confronted her about it at school. And y/n would sob into his shoulder and ask him what to do.

“Tuh-tell the others,” he said sympathetically.

So she did.

She told Ben, Eddie, and Stan in her next period she shared with him. Ben sadly stroked her arm and told her he could have one of his CupCakes at lunch. y/n smiled, the sweet gesture easing the pain from her mind. And she told him she would take him up on that offer only if they were orange flavored.

Eddie cried that day, but he passed it off as an allergic reaction to the different brand of air freshener Mrs. Clarke used. Stan and Ben were just kind enough to believe him.

Stan was always the voice of reason. He told her this would be a great opportunity to learn new things and make new friends, but he also made her swear she’d write him—them—every week and call every night. He thought y/n would laugh at him for being clingy and compulsive but she didn’t. She took his hand in his, squeezing it firmly when she assured him she’d call every night and write every week.

But a certain sadness washed over her when it was Mike’s turn to receive the news.

It was on an early Saturday morning when he did. She offered to help him out with the farm—partly to spend time with him and partly to get some wear in her new overalls she’d thrifted before she left.

“I know… you’ve probably already heard.” y/n swallowed harshly before continuing. She was aimlessly shoveling a hole in the ground and she stared at the soil as if it were his brown eyes because this would be harder for her to say than harder for him to hear. “I’m leaving Derry.”

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but Mike was able to comprehend her words just fine. “When?” They were both turned away from each other—her working on the hole and him working on the bean sprouts.

“A month after school lets out. Don’t worry, Mikey. There’s still time for me to help you on the farm.”

“Just so you can dig holes in my daddy’s soil? I don’t think so.” Both y/n and Mike laughed. For a moment, y/n had forgotten about the packed boxes in her empty bedroom and the plane tickets her parents kept in an envelope for June the first.

And now y/n stood in front of Richie only a few days after she’d be boarding that plane because she’d been putting off telling him the way she did with the rest of the Losers.

y/n was staring at his forehead, desperately trying to meet his eyes. She didn’t care if the last time he’d be seeing her was with smudged mascara and red eyes, but she needed to see him. “My parents are making me,” she repeated. “If it were up to me I’d..”

“Don’t go,” Richie said abruptly, cutting her off. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her—even if her lips were bitten raw and her eyes welled with salty tears that he’d kiss away in his dreams when he went to bed that night. “To hell with your parents. You can live with me, kid. It’ll be like college but without the debt.”

y/n sniffed. Even though Richie was the funny one, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Maybe if the words were coming from Bill, Stan, or Ben, but not Richie. Not when her whole life was in front of her and there was no sign of him in it.

Richie frowned because if he couldn’t put a smile on her face, he didn’t know what would. A strong silence edged itself between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. He pushed up his glasses lazily with his index finger to get a better look at the sad sight ahead of him who was poorly trying to contain her sobs.

“Hey, kid.” Richie took her in his lanky arms. Neither of them said anything after that, but Richie couldn’t help but think if he said those three words maybe she wouldn’t have left.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” She’d say. They’d spend their next three years together attached to the hip before college sweeps them away. But they’d find each other later in life; at a record shop or on the streets of New York. y/n would ask “Richie, is that really you?” And Richie would reply in his British-man Voice:

“’Ello, luv. Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

y/n would be left in a stunned sort of silence for a while—not because she was unsure if the person standing in front of her was him, but because she was in awe. In awe that she finally found him.

But now Richie didn’t have to wait. He didn’t have to wallow in his own pity because the girl he loved was no longer two states away, but a couple of minutes away as he paced back in forth in Stan’s room.

“Calm down, Richie.” Stan was laying on his bed, trying to ignore his friend’s loud footsteps. Even though he had forced Richie to take his shoes off before coming into his house, his feet still thumped loudly against the floor. He was uncharacteristically thrusting a baseball between his two palms. It cut through the air smoothly as it moved side to side in his soft hands.

“What do you mean calm down?” Richie stopped in his tracks so he could shoot him a cold stare. “How am I supposed to calm down?” His heavy steps had resumed. Stan sighed.

“Just don’t make such a big deal out of—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Stan.” Richie groaned and went to tug on the friendship bracelet y/n gave him from when they were in grade school. It was a habit he’d picked up when y/n left. Whenever he got nervous, or irritated, or missed her, his right hand would find his left and wind around the memento. Arguably, that friendship bracelet could be deduced to a tangle of old, ratty strings; better yet, trash. But in Richie’s magnified eyes, it was still the same bracelet made of vibrant blue and green yarn y/n had bought from the craft store and braided with her small, meticulous fingers.

“What shit?” Stan scoffed because sometimes Richie could be irrational. “It’s called honesty. And honestly, it’s just y/n. What could go wrong?”

What could go wrong? Hell, everything could go wrong. She could forget who I am. Or better yet, she would remember and hate me.

“She won’t hate you,” Stan said unconvincingly in his usual monotone voice. It was like he could Richie’s mind, but Richie was obvious when it came to this stuff. Painfully obvious.

“Wuh-what’cha guh-guh-guys talking ab-bout?” Bill let himself into the room without knocking. Neither of the two boys minded. “I br-brought my bb-b-base-ball cards. But I’m keeping the Babe Ruth—”

“We’re not trading today, Bill.” Stan put down the leathery ball which sat in his left hand and sat up exasperatedly.

“W-we’re not?” An odd sort of sadness flicked across his usually bright features and he pocketed the collectibles. “Ih-ih-if we weren’t you sh-sh… could’ve cuh-called me fuh-fifteen minutes ago.” He went down to sit on Stan’s bed with him but was met with a harsh stare and a scolding instead.

“Take your shoes off!” He screeched and Bill toed off his old, beat-up Keds.

“So, wuh-what are we doing… if wuh-we’re not trading?” Bill asked.

“Richie just wants to talk.” Bill’s nose scrunched like a child who had just been informed liver was for dinner.

“T-t-t-talk? Get a s-s-sex change while you’re at it.”

Both Stan and Bill laughed, and Richie only grumbled. “C’mon, guys.” His pacing had yet again stopped but Stan knew he wouldn’t stay still for long. “What should I do?”

Then, Bill knew what they were talking about. It wasn’t a secret that Richie liked y/n. But like was an understatement. It just remained unsaid between the Losers. Either because Richie wouldn’t hear the end of it if they did talk about it or because… what was there to talk about? There were only so many times six boys and one girl could sing ‘Richie loves y/n’ until it got old.

“Wuh-well…” The rest of Bill’s words were swallowed by a heavy build-up of saliva and replaced with new ones before either Stan or Richie could chime in. “What do yo-you wanna do?”

“Aw, man. Lots of things.” Richie took a seat next to Bill on the edge of Stan’s neatly made bed. Stan groaned and shoved a pillow over his flushed face. He was torn between wanting to hear the details and hating that Richie was taking this conversation to a sappy turn. “The first thing I’d do would probably pull her in for a hug and kiss her cheek… And then I’d—”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Stan’s muffled voice came from under the pillow and Bill laughed in agreement.

“Kuh-kiss?” Bill asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I know that’s new vocabulary to you, Big Bill, but—”

“No,” Bill said, ignoring Richie’s previous, rude, comment. “I mm-mean, you cuh-cuh-can’t kiss y/n.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Richie said, only half-listening to what Bill was saying. But Bill’s next statement grabbed Richie’s (and Stan’s) full attention.

“I cuh-can’t. But her b-boyfriend wuh-houldn’t like it.”

“y/n has a boyfriend?” Both Stan and Richie said in unison. The pillow flew from Stan’s face and his eyes were now widened with interest.

“How’d you find out?” Stan sandwiched himself between Bill and Richie. Richie was almost falling off the bed and he wanted to scoff because if anything he was more a part of the conversation than Ol’ Stanny Boy.

“Oh-oh-over the phone. Sh-sh-she called muh-me and s-s-s-said some-thing about a guh-guy named Tr-Tr-Trevor Mmm-Martin. Nuh-Nothing s-s-serious at the tuh-time. Bb-but…”

Richie didn’t catch the bullshit spewing from Bill’s big mouth. His head was busy spinning in all different directions, and he felt as if he were going to puke. Though there were no signs of the tuna salad sandwich and salt and vinegar chips Stan and he shared trekking its way up to his throat and onto Stan’s just shampooed carpet. Was this what heartbreak felt like?

If so, it was one son of a bitch.

Richie couldn’t seem to enjoy himself for the rest of the day—or the rest of the week, for that matter. He didn’t laugh when Stan cracked a joke that Bill laughed at (something about Jews getting their dicks cut off as an alternative to hell). He didn’t race home to greet the girl next door he’d been longing to see. And he didn’t feel anything when that same girl was pressed against his chest during the scary part of the movie all of the Losers had planned to see.

It was a sort of ‘welcome back’ celebration for y/n. This whole week, actually, would be dedicated to y/n in regard to her return. Stan, Eddie, and Mike were the first ones at the theatre. They waited outside of the Aladdin Theatre, all three in a line while Stan checked his watch for what seemed to be hundredth time and Eddie counted the change in his pocket, hoping it’d be enough for snacks.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” Mike reassured. He patted him on the back. It was firm but gentle at the same time. It calmed him. “If you don’t have enough for snacks, me or someone else can spot you. And don’t worry about paying back.”

Eddie visibly relaxed at his words but Mike didn’t know why he was all of the sudden anxious about something like that.

Just then, Bill and Bev came up. Beverly’s hair was held back in a blue cowboy bandana, a contrast to her red hair, as a makeshift hairband. Her white blouse almost blended against her pale skin and her blue jeans chafed because of how fast she was skipping. Bill was falling behind but he didn’t really care. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his denim board shorts and he walked—strolled—down the sidewalk as if he had all the time in the world.

“I’m so excited!” A harsh squeal erupted from Beverly’s lips and Eddie had to cup his hands over his ears.

“Jesus, Bev. You could blow out an eardrum with those lungs.” But he wasn’t too impressed with her vocal range.

Ben and Richie came up together. They were talking about some new comic issue—Ben looked really into it, but Richie just wanted to avoid the topic of y/n that he was sure was now prevalent in everyone’s minds. Beverly gave him a knowing smirk when the two finally reached the group and Richie displayed his best ‘what-the-fuck-do-you-mean’ expression when he really did know what the fuck she meant.

This left y/n to be the last of the Losers to arrive.

The rubber sole of Richie’s beat up left slip-on tapped impatiently against the hot cement. “How long does it take to get ready?”

“Do you think she got lost?” Ben asked curiously, hoping that wasn’t the case.

“We should go in. Y’know so seats don’t get taken.” Before the rest of the group could protest Richie’s lame idea in attempts to boycott seeing their long-lost friend, a familiar voice piped up.

“That’s awfully rude of you Tozier.” Richie turned around to see y/n. How could a person look the same, yet totally different at the same time? Her hair was longer from when he last saw her and there was a new glow in her eyes that Richie couldn’t help but think meant she lost her innocence. He could’ve sworn she got taller, but she was also wearing platform wedges with little white flowers on the straps which matched her baby blue sundress that came just above the knee.

“y/n!” Beverly was the first to say. She ran the not far distance between them and enraptured her into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you left me here… with all boys.”

y/n didn’t miss a beat of Beverly’s sarcasm and rolled her eyes. “I know, how could I? I’m such a monster.” The two giggled for an ungodly amount of time which the boys summed up to a sort of telepathic communication between the two.

Ben was next to greet y/n. He said she and he could share a pack of Donettes this time and a nostalgic smile crinkled her eyes as she remembered how he shared his dessert with him when she left.

Mike, Eddie, and Stan were next. Mike told her that while there’s no work to be done on his father’s farm, they could still hang out. Eddie hugged her just like Bev had. And Stan scolded her for being late but then whispered a ‘thanks’ for keeping her promise of writing to him, even if it wasn’t every week.

y/n lingered behind to say hi to Bill when he opened the door for everyone.

“Luh-luh-long time no s-s-see. Stranger.” y/n didn’t realize the Losers were waiting for them.

“Nice to see you, too.” She nudged Bill’s arm with her elbow and walked in. They didn’t say much to each other because nothing had to be said. They had an unspoken connection. Bill was like her brother. Always knew what to say. Always there for her…

Richie was the last to greet y/n because unlike Bill, he didn’t know what to say. He could feel the words dancing on his tongue, but he knew they’d come out in either a stutter or gibberish. He was waiting at the candy counter, drumming his fingers on the glass while Ben ordered a large popcorn and Donettes. Mike paid for his own strawberry licorice whips—none of the Losers partook in his favorite candy. Beverly only got a soda, and Eddie bought his own personal popcorn, but if Stan asked, he could have a few kernels.

“Hi.” Richie looked like he had seen a ghost when y/n came up next to him. He shouldn’t have been startled by her, but he was.

“Hey…” He held off on calling her a cheeky nickname because she had a boyfriend and that would be wrong, and he had morals—

“Are you getting anything?”

That depends, are you for sale? Beep beep, Rich.

“Nothing really…really caught my eye.” He glanced at the menu one more time as if he hadn’t had it memorized from the thousands of other times he’s been there—alone or not.

“That’s too bad. I thought we could share a popcorn?” y/n asked hopefully. “Or a soda? If you’re trying to cut down on carbs.”

Richie laughed. “I thought you and Ben were sharing those mini nightmares.” His hand dove into his pocket anyway. You can never be too sure, right?

“It’s called balance,” y/n said all too knowingly. “Have you ever heard of salty and sweet makes the perfect combination?” She eyed him through her mascara coated lashes that he remembered from three years ago and Richie heard himself calling one of the girls at the concessions stand over for a large popcorn. Extra butter.

Was she the sweet and Trevor was the salty one of the pair? His mind was numb during the movie, except for the one persisting thought he couldn’t help but circle back to. y/n and Trevor sitting in a tree…

He felt the armrest that divided the seats fly up and a trembling body wiggle itself next to his. Her arms latched onto his torso tightly and her head buried itself into his tacky Hawaiian shirt. Slowly, Richie began to fall from his catatonic state. His eyes drifted down to her figure, squinting in the darkness of the theatre.

“Hey…” His large hand smoothed over her hair in petting motions as he cooed into her ear. “It’s all… this stuff’s all fake. It’s not real.” Her quiet, pathetic sobs continued throughout the rest of the movie. Richie still consoled her.

Only until the lights drew up and the Losers were the last to leave an empty theatre decorated with chewed up bubble gum, candy wrappers, and the remains of popcorn on the floor did y/n remove herself from his shirt.

“Sorry.” y/n cleared her throat and sat up straight as if nothing happened. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a horror movie.” She laughed, making fun of her own pitifulness.

“It was a h-h-horror movie. Not a d-d-drama.” Bill rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his lips.

“Girls, am I right?” Stan scoffed. He stood up, about to be the first of the Losers to leave the room until he stopped in front of y/n’s chair. “Don’t worry, I almost shat my pants.” Richie overheard him whisper in her hear.

y/n tried to eat the giggles trying to escape her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. Her laughter echoed in the empty theatre and the rest of her friends laughed with her. They didn’t understand what she was laughing at, they just missed the sound of her voice after so long.

Her small hand slipped into Richie’s sweaty one when the group met daylight which Mike was surprised at, even though they entered the Aladdin at one.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, shaken up. They had officially fallen behind from the group, but it wasn’t like either of them cared. He took his hand from hers, opting to hold his own. Once his hand left hers he immediately missed the feeling. The warmth. The comfort. But his own would have to fair as a substitute for now.

“Just like old times… I thought.” y/n was flabbergasted at Richie’s antsiness. He wasn’t like this three years ago. Three years ago, he would’ve gladly accepted her hand in his. Three years ago, he would’ve scooped up her hand claiming that he doesn’t want her catching cold even though they stood in the summer heat.

Richie twirled his fingers around the end of his shirt. Old times. But the old times were different.

Richie Tozier was thirteen years old when he finally got his own bike to ride. He no longer had to ride double on Silver or walk to any of the functions that the Losers had planned. It wasn’t embarrassing, but no boy wanted to show up to the quarry or Aladdin Theatre riding on the back of Bill Denbrough’s bike, his arms actually wrapped around him. Especially if y/n would be seeing him.

So, he requested his parents buy him a bicycle of his own. Preferably green with a large bell so everyone knows when Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier was coming. Pretty please.

And after a few months, his parents finally complied. It was green but it, however, did not come with a bell.

“You’ll just have to come up with the money for that one on your own, son.” His dad told him. But that was fine by Richie. And he excitedly pedaled off to the Aladdin where his friends would be soon, in hopes to impress a certain somebody.

“W-w-wow, Ruh-Ruh-Richie. You got a bike?” Bill asked. He wondered why his friend never gave him a call, asking to come pick and him up—he just assumed he was walking today.

“Yeppers.” Richie proudly rode circles around his friends with his new ET Kuwahara. He couldn’t wait until y/n saw him on it.

“Wh-wh-when?” Bill was the most curious out of the group. He would miss hitching Richie rides, but he wouldn’t miss how tight his arms seemed to wind against his chest.

“Like, yesterday.” Richie shrugged and he was the last one to park his bike. He kept riding circles around the empty Sunday street until y/n and Bev showed up. y/n didn’t have a bike and Bev always walked with her out of courtesy.

“Hey, wide ride!” Beverly called while Richie tried to pop a wheelie.

“Stop it,” y/n giggled but Richie was too lost in his own world to hear her. Eventually, he parked it; carelessly setting it down with Silver and Stan’s, Eddie’s, Ben’s, and Mike’s bike. “You got a bike?” y/n asked, coming up from behind him. Richie grinned.

“Yeah, do ya like?” y/n nodded wordlessly.

“Green’s not my color, though… Why’d you get a bike?”

“’Cause riding double is lame.” He shrugged and they entered the movie theatre together while the rest of their friends waited for them. “Anywho, how ‘bout I take you home tonight?”

“I thought you said riding double was lame,” y/n repeated his words even though she didn’t think that.

“Well—you see… What I meant was—”

“Just kidding, Tozier. Only you think riding double is lame anyway.” y/n found herself giggling while paying for her small popcorn which Richie would end up sticking his fingers into later on.

So, Richie took her home that night (and the rest of the nights the Losers met up). Her arms wrapped around his torso in the way he used to wrap his around Bill’s. At first, it felt like he couldn’t breathe, but that could’ve been because there was a pretty girl sitting behind him and he would be responsible if they got hurt.

After a while, though, he got used to it. And the arms slung around his chest were like a seatbelt. Once in awhile, y/n would rest her chin against her shoulder. And if she were tuckered out from swimming or any of the other adventures the Losers were up against that day, he would find her dozing on his back. The breeze from his ET Kuwahara ripping through the hot air felt nice and a kind of superiority swelled in Richie’s chest for being the cause of that breeze.

The same breeze swept over y/n and Richie. The group was now long gone from their eye line, but they would’ve been anyway because of the path Richie and y/n would take to get home.

Richie had been oddly silent until they reached their houses; side by side, just like how the two friends stood. y/n took it upon herself to break that silence, but his jitters were contagious.

“We’re meeting up at the quarry tomorrow.” She turned to face him as she stood on the highest step of her doorstep. He was still taller than her.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Richie tried his best to avoid her steady watch that followed him, but it was hard. He so desperately wanted to see the twinkle in her ambitious, yet caring eyes which he missed. It wasn’t looking at her that was wrong, it was his thoughts—and Richie knew that—he just couldn’t bring himself to look at her while thinking those thoughts.

“You’re coming right?” Insecurity wavered in her voice. Richie was being weird. Richie was always weird, but something was… wrong. He didn’t greet her the first day she came home. y/n eventually concluded that she was just being selfish and that Richie was probably busy that day. But now Richie was being distant. Richie was never distant.

“’Ve been thinkin’ about it. You know I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see Bev in her swimsuit—”

“Beep beep.” y/n wanted to laugh. She wanted to assume he was joking and think nothing more of it because that’s who Richie is. A jokester. Her heart couldn’t help but pang at the words and instantaneously the palms of her hands felt clammy. “Can you meet me beforehand? I thought we could go together?”

“Together?” Richie’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, goofball.” Again, her eyes searched for his under his mess of brown hair and coke bottle glasses, but they were playing a serious game of hide-and-seek. “I mean, it only makes sense.” She thought fast. “We live next door to each other.” And Richie realized this was only an act of convenience.

“Shore, shore, senhorritaa.” Richie couldn’t find the courage in himself—only in one of his Voices and y/n smiled, suddenly remembering how often he’d do impressions when they were kids.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” y/n said curtly.

“Tomorrow,” Richie replied cooly when he was anything but. Especially when he paced his own room, the same way he did in Stan’s, when he should’ve been at her door already.

He was only wearing the swim trunks (he had since he was fifteen and hadn’t bothered to replace) that resembled the shirts he wore, and he was debating on if he should put on a shirt or leave as he is. Or leave at all. It was going to be hot today. The weather forecast predicted to be in the nineties. Richie didn’t want to show up indecent, but he also didn’t want to sweat the whole walk there.

Two—that somehow felt like ten—aggravating minutes later, Richie stood at y/n’s door wearing a yellow shirt over his dark blue, tropical swim shorts. His forefinger hovered over the doorbell for a few seconds until he finally bit the bullet and took the bait. You’re gonna do it eventually, just do it now.

It swung open excitedly, revealing his favorite girl who stood behind it. “Come in!” She said and wasted no time to lead him up to her room.

Richie took a moment to catch his breath and take in his new surroundings. Her room seemed unchanged at first and he laughed at the grey, Victorian-style wallpaper that neither y/n nor her parents had taken down yet. But the longer he stood there, the more he noticed how bare it was. The room was stripped of any decorations she once had (except for her bed and desk)—replaced by brown moving boxes. It became apparent to Richie how much time she had spent away from the group. Even though she was here with them now, she had fabricated a life outside of the Losers Club. That fact hurt him, but a sort of curiosity burned inside of him. He wanted to know the new her, but they also had to get to the quarry at a certain time.

“When do we gotta be there by?” Richie asked. He was drawn out of his daydream by his own words and noticed y/n who was turned around in front of him. She was wearing a black, ruffled bikini that complimented her skin beautifully but barely covered the parts that should.

“Two-thirty… but I don’t think they’d mind if we show up early or late.” y/n shrugged as her fingers fumbled with the bikini strings that tied the top. “Can you help me with this?” She turned to him. If Richie picked any time to finally meet her eyes, he picked the worst timing. y/n’s neck craned to the side whilst she still struggled with her top. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him.

“Why’re you asking me?” Richie feigned a chuckle but walked over to her regardless. She angled her body dangerously close to his causing Richie to bite his lip, imprisoning the sharp gasp that threatened to depart from his lips. Cautiously, his hands took the strings from her and tied them into a sloppy bow with a double knot so it wouldn’t come undone anytime soon.

“’Cause you’re here, Tozier.” He made eye contact with her. “What’s been up with you lately?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You’ve been distant… really distant.” y/n’s honesty made it hard for Richie to catch a break. “Do you think I haven’t noticed when you pulled away from me yesterday and…”

“And what?” Richie probed. His hands rested on either sides of his hips. He tried to hide any sign of nervousness in his voice, but it was hard to fake what you were.

“It’s stupid.” Obviously, y/n didn’t want to drop the topic of conversation. She didn’t want to coerce the boy into something either.

“Nothing you say, think, or do is stupid, y/n/n.” Richie chuckled once more though this time y/n could tell he wasn’t faking anything.

“You didn’t greet me when I first came home.” She mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear her. But he did. “Why was that?”

“I dunno… Bill told me something.” Richie wanted to drop a brick over his head because honestly, how stupid did he sound right now? y/n didn’t have to say anything. The skepticism in her eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth was enough to prompt him further. “He said you have a boyfriend and I just—”

“You just what?” Her words were mysterious. Richie couldn’t seem to read her anymore because the only telling expression she had was a raised eyebrow and cocked head. But that could mean anything.

“I really like you, okay? And how are you supposed to greet someone you’re in love with after not seeing them for three years when you can’t hug them or-or kiss them cos they went off and got a stinkin’ high and mighty boyfriend in New York? New York, for Christ’s sake. It was hard enough to look at you before but now—” Richie’s rambling was quickly cut off when y/n’s arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed against his. Her fingers tangled in the loops of his hair and his glasses pushed up against her face. “What was that for?” Richie asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Stop listening to Bill,” y/n instructed. She was amused by the boy in front of her.

“What?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” She brushed a strand of hair from out of his eyes and adjusted his now crooked glasses.

“But Bill said—”

“Bill’s stupid.” Her lips met his again. The kiss was longer this time. y/n’s were soft and tasted like the artificial cherry flavoring from her chapstick she had applied prior; a contradiction to the faint scent of tangerines that clung to her bare skin and the spicy bite of peppermint on her tongue.

His wet tongue traced the inside of her mouth, lingering on the inside of her cheek. y/n bit down on the fullest part of Richie’s bottom lip tentatively, making sure not to hurt him. She could feel his smile lines against her thumb when she removed her left hand from his hair, using it to cup his cheek. y/n pulled from him abruptly, leaving Richie floored and panting.

“You don’t think the crew would care if we showed up late?” Richie asked, his eyebrows wiggling with the new burst of confidence that kiss had given him.

y/n shook her head. A grin bestowed itself upon her swollen lips. Her arms re-enveloped themselves around his figure that towered over her. Richie copied her actions. Except his hands ghosted across the back of her naked torso covered in goosebumps from the spur of the moment. They created an invisible trail to her clothed butt, cueing y/n to jump up.

She did and Richie’s large hands supported her legs that wound around his waist. “Do you wanna…?”

“Yes,” y/n whispered into his ear. At that, a shiver crawled down Richie’s spine.

It became harder for Richie to contain his excitement as he walked the two of them over to y/n’s bed. He was gentle when he set her down on the mattress covered in grey sheets and stuffed pillows. The feeling of the cotton bed sleeves cooled her hot skin although she would need an icepack to completely bring her temperature down.

Richie was on top of her. His lips tickled face that he left quick, unperceivable marks on. When she got the chance, y/n took in his appearance thoughtfully. It was evident that his unruly hair was thrown in all different directions due to y/n’s hands that were knotted in it. There was a blush on his freckled cheeks that resembled a sunburn and he wore a look. It was soft and welcoming like he was an astrologist who had just found out she was responsible for putting the stars in the sky.

But the stars were her eyes as they held the same sparkle from yesterday at the theatre.

“Have you…have you?” Richie’s eyes hesitantly raked down her half nude body from behind his glasses, still held together with adhesive tape. They couldn’t help but slide down the slope of his long nose and y/n pushed them up for him.

“No,” y/n said bashfully. She ducked her head down only for it to be lifted back up with Richie’s thumb and forefinger.

“Do you want this?” He tried not to pose the question awkwardly, but how can you make a question like that not awkward?

“Of course.” y/n’s hand, still playing with the hairs on the back of his head, guided his face towards hers. The two met in a sweet kiss for a sweet second. “As long as it’s with you.” Her tone was confident and assuring, leaving Richie with no extra questions.

“You really know how to flatter a guy, y/n/n.” Richie still marveled at the sight splayed out before him and a melodious sound filled his ears. It was her laugh, but all of his senses seemed to be amplified to the max during this moment.

Both of her hands coasted down to the hem of his stupid, banana-colored shirt that served as a barrier between the two. Her light touches made his breath catch in his throat, released in a throaty gasp, and his once loose shorts now felt strained and uncomfortable. Ignoring the occasional breaths that left Richie’s perfect mouth, y/n’s fingers tugged on the end of his shirt; a signal for him to take the damn thing off.

Instantly, his shirt was off and thrown on her floor. In his head, he thanked that her room wasn’t fully unpacked yet but another part of him thought he and y/n wouldn’t even make it to the quarry. y/n ran two fingers down his smooth chest; the tips of her fingers sent a tingling sensation throughout his being. Richie seized them once they reached his abdomen, his grasp firm but tender. Slowly, he led her fingers with his to the crotch of her bikini. The black material was soaked through. Richie smirked to himself, she’d have to change again before they left for the quarry. Or they could just not go at all.

Her own touch had elicited a moan from y/n. Her head fell back on the grey cushions, exposing her pure neck that begged to be marked. The sighs of pleasure coming from the girl beneath him while he directed her hand that was now slipping into the bottoms of her bikini felt straight from one of his fantasies. He could only hope he wasn’t dreaming, and if he were, he’d just have to remember it for another lonely night in the sheets.

y/n’s fingers danced over her clit. She inhaled sharply at the teasing feeling. Richie’s hand moved to tightly hold her wrist, the contact burned against her already hot skin. His mind was drawing a blank again; lost in the moment. Lost in her. Another moan left her mouth, her breath hit his face, and Richie imagined how she touched herself when she was away at school. Did she think about him the same way he thought about her? Did she wonder what lied behind his pants like how he had on multiple occasions?

For the time being, Richie’s questions would have to be left unanswered. He felt her hand leave her bathing suit and his hand detached itself from her wrist. A blotchy red handprint was left in its place from his harsh grip and before Richie could ask if she was okay, y/n was kicking off the at once restricting clothing. Her lower half was now completely revealed, all for him. Vulnerability, a feeling y/n had only felt on the plane ride alone to New York and on her first date with Trevor, took its rightful place in her chest that lifted and fell at a rapid speed. Her thighs instinctively rubbed together, part out of insecurity, and also to relieve herself, but Richie stopped them before they could make another move.

His right palm had settled on her left thigh, gently separating it from its counterpart while his left palm kept busy as it laid flat on her mattress and held him up. Richie’s index finger toyed with her clit, much like she had done before, and then probed her entrance. Her walls generously coated his first finger with the same nucleus that slicked her now tainted swimsuit. His middle finger entered with the same proficiency and care. Richie’s fingers were long and slender, and they did well to effortlessly curl into the spot that y/n could never seem to find on her own. Richie grunted at the sound of another pretty sound leaving y/n’s pretty lips. But this sound was different.

“Richie,” she moaned breathlessly. Richie, again, came painfully aware of the tent in his shorts. But this time was for y/n, not him.

In and out. In and out. His fingers moved at the relatively same, slow, and predictable pace that didn’t fail to evoke the dirty noises coming from y/n which might suggest otherwise. He continued these movements until her pulse picked up and a coil inside snapped.

Richie Tozier was y/n’s first orgasm.

And second, as he withdrew his hand from her, swapping his fingers for him. He stripped himself of his shorts so that the two now pressed together, even—this excluded the upper half of y/n that was still covered.

Richie hovered over the girl. The girl who moved next door at the ripe age of five, not knowing the impact she’d have on his life. The girl who crafted him and the Losers Club individual friendship bracelets that were tied around his wrist to this day. The girl who moved away too soon. The girl who’d share his first time with him. The girl he loved.

“Can I?” He asked timidly. The thumb and index finger of his right hand pinched at the black strap which prevented her top from falling down—which, ironically, was exactly what Richie wanted. y/n nodded. Her eyes were still shut from the intense euphoria she was still recovering from. First, Richie unclipped the back strap. Then, his hands moved to the thinner strap he’d tied earlier. His knees were holding him up, straddling over y/n’s waist. A wave of frustration overcame him when his fingers clumsily messed with the frocking double-knotted bow. A quiet mutter, “gotcha”, unintentionally rolled off of Richie’s tongue.

y/n giggled at his antics—not to make fun of him, but because he was cute.

The constrictive article of clothing fell from her bodice, uncovering her hardened nipples and flawless breasts.

Richie ducked his head down. Instead of meeting her lips, his mouth wrapped around the still perky bud. Licking, and sucking until breaths turned to whines and whines turned to his name.

Richie. Richie. Richie.

After giving both the same amount of attention, he kissed her. His lips brushed against hers and time felt like it had somehow stopped when y/n felt him enter her.

It was daunting at first. And Richie thumbed away a tear that raced down y/n’s cheek when she had finally taken his whole length.

“Tell me when you want me to move,” Richie murmured—his nose brushing against her cheekbone as he did so.

“Rich…Richie.”

“Yes, gorgeous?” y/n could melt at the nickname, but she didn’t; the rest of her senses too carried away in his intoxicating scent of Spice… Something… and the stimulation of him filling her.

“Can you move?” y/n asked in quiet, broken words.

Richie didn’t say anything. He just slipped out from her only to push back in. The sensation of her tight walls around him was enough to be the reason of his gasps and the resounding echoes of her name that pleasantly escaped his parted lips. His thrusts were steady and gradual—much like his fingers from earlier but… different.

y/n’s back arched into Richie’s front. Both of their pants quickened, and y/n didn’t have to ask to know what this meant.

“Richie,” y/n mewled. Richie’s pace accelerated, pulling them both to their highs. y/n’s eyes rolled back from under her heavy lids. On the other hand, the boy above her had frantically removed himself from her. She would finish on his fingers like once before and he didn’t need any more ushering to find his end.

“y/n.” The moan belonged to Richie this time, and he collapsed onto the newly soiled sheets next to the girl whose name he just spoke. “I love you.” Richie didn’t intend for the words to come out. They just did. He suspected y/n was none the wiser, still trying to catch her breath from when she came.

“What?”

Richie was wrong.

“I love you,” Richie repeated, but he hadn’t intended to say it again either. He was running on autopilot now. His eyes squeezed closed, preparing for y/n to yell at him. Why would you drop the bomb like this? To kick him out.

But she didn’t.

“I love you, too.” She wasn’t facing him, so he had to trust she meant the words. He had to trust she wasn’t actually repulsed at the thought of the guy who’d just stolen her virginity and would never talk to him afterward.

“You…you do?” Richie realized he was laying butt-naked on top of y/n’s sheets and he wouldn’t be shocked if his face were mistaken for a tomato right about now.

“Yeah.” The bed shifted under her turning weight because she was now laying on her side, facing him. Her eyes roamed his milky skin and her fingers apprehensively traced an outline on his arm. Richie didn’t think he would ever get used to her silk skin and feather fingertips. “You’re supposed to lose it to the person you love, right?”

Richie’s heart was already digging its grave. “Yeah.” He swallowed dryly. His hand found hers—the one that was inking an invisible fence on his skin—and weaved his fingers with hers. He didn’t know what else to say but he didn’t have to.

“You still wear this?” y/n was incredulous and judging by the tone of her voice, Richie figured she found the friendship bracelet he still wore. Treasured.

“It’d make me a monster to trash it.” Richie faced her now and y/n laughed whilst her pink lips grazed his knuckles.

“I still have mine.” She raised her eyebrow. Was this a challenge?

“Pish, posh, dahhling. Proof or it’s not real,” he said in his god-awful British-man Voice.

y/n let go of his hand, leaving it for the coldness to slowly eat away. She leapt off her bed and dashed to her desk. She opened one of the side drawers and fished around for a dinky little yarn bracelet that would match his, only she used red and yellow string rather than blue and green.

She skipped over to him, not caring that she was undressed or that they had to be somewhere. A braided bracelet, similar to his, dangled in front of Richie’s tired face and he smiled. Unlike Richie’s, y/n’s bracelet was in perfect condition—just like it had looked from when they were ten.

“I can make you another one,” y/n said, noticing how worn Richie’s was. It was almost falling apart.

“Nah. I like the rugged look.” Richie bared his teeth to her. It must’ve been the fifth time she laughed that day.

“Do you still wanna go?” y/n asked. She didn’t meet his gaze; too focused on slipping the bracelet over her hand. It seemed she had outgrown the thing.

“Go where?” Richie hummed and snaked his arms around her once more.

“The quarry.” His eyes widened and suddenly Richie didn’t feel tired anymore.

“Do we have to?” He whined as if he were still a child.

“I guess not.” y/n gave in; relaxing into his arms. “You can help me unpack.”

“Or…” Richie’s lips pecked her forehead.

“I guess there’s a reason why they call you Trashmouth.” y/n nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His fingers drew lazy shapes on her bare back in attempts to convince her. But y/n didn’t need convincing. Now that she found a home in his arms, she would never leave.

322 notes · View notes

tellywoodtrash · 4 years

Text

immj2 30.11.20 lb

ok we’re just gonna skimmmmmmmmm through the first half of the ep coz i really do not care about the shaadi ceremony; i’m just here for the drama once V arrives.

varmalas exchanged.

i am really feeling for dadi. she’s literally dying from sad.

some gloating from this fuck. (SOMEONE TELL ME WTF HE SAW IN THE CONTAINER HOUSE AND WAS LIKE OHHHHHHHH TOH YEH HAI TUMHARA PLANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN.......... DID HE SEE V???? DID HE OFFER HIM $$$$$$ TO SWITCH OVER TO HIS TEAM???? WHERE IS ALL THIS OVERCONFIDENCE COMING FROMMMM?????????)

dadi is jhoolofying between stage 2 and 3 of grief, and this fucker is like do kanyadaan no pls. sau jootein naa maaruuun mein isko dadi ko itnaaa pareshaan karne ke liye?????

anyway fwd fwd fwdddddddddddd.

mangalsutra time and lol........... mangalsutra is missing.

growled threats to riddhima, ki i’ll burn this fucking house down and then uske raakh se tumhare maang mein sindoor bharoonga. which again, is a concept taken from naagin 5. Y’ALL NEED TO BE SITTING AT THE OPPOSITE SIDES OF THE CLASS, SINCE YOU CAN’T STOP COPYING YOUR SHIT OFF OF EACH OTHER.

ishani isn’t noticing, but riddhima is actually throwing her the tiniest grateful smile. god i wishhhhhhhhhh they were teamed up, they’d be sooooooo damn formidable together!!!!!!!!

“good job, ishani!”

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WE STAN THIS KANJI EYED KHURAFAATI COUPLE WHO WON’T STAND FOR ANY FUCKERY WITH VANSH BHAI. BADA MAZZAAA AAAYEGA AB SE INKE SCENES MEIN.

kabir paid off the shady panditji who’s like ok no issues kal tak pehna dena mangalsutra.

phera time.

this b never fated to have a shaadi with her consent. how does someone get into this situation not once, but TWO (2) wholeass times?????? at this point, you have got to realise that the problem is YOU.

AAKHRI FUCKING PHERAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

god knows what she threw in the fire but as the song goes..........

sis poori taiyyaari ke saath aayi hai. had tucked in one of her 3000 zeher ki sheeshis into her lehenga/kafan. taking a shot like she’s at her bff’s bachelorette party.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand.........................

“the fuck is going on in this house?????”

isski batteeesi toh dekho. lmao. too cute. she gets such few opportunities in this show to smile genuinely, and it’s nice to see her be truly happy in a moment!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS BITCHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! SAAJAN-JI GHAR AAYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(whaddya know????? he coordinated his outfit and everything!!!!!!!!)

poor dadi had justttttttt reached the depression/acceptance part of grief and le.............. naya shock.

also i cannot stop lmao at angreeeeeeee. hahahahahahahaha.

khee khee khee khee. kabir currently hearing this music in his head.

meanwhile riddhima’s internal soundtrack is going.........

asldkfjdlsafldskjfldskjflkdsjlfkjdlsflsdflkjdsl the look he’s throwing at kabirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

kabir:

lmaooooooooooooo riddhima is about to murder V for his shenanigans

“hero ki entry aisi hi hoti hai, riddhima!” lmaooooooooooo. he’s gonna get bitch-slapped for this the moment they’re alone together.

lmao he quickly just hugged her again to shut her up. v. cute moment.

angre is still in shock lmao, i can’t get over it.

once again the Murder Look has been set on kabir. lmaoooooo i really wouldn’t wanna be him rn.

“inspector kabir. vansh raisinghania apni riyaasat mein waapas laut aaya hai. swagat nahi karoge humara?”

can’t deny, there was a lotttttt of swag in this moment.

also riddhima the dumbass stillllllllllllllllllll doesn’t realise even now that this is vansh??????? you can have trained him as much as you want, but THIS WHOLE ~~~~AURA~~~ AND VOCABULARY AND THE VOICE AND THE EXPRESSIONS????? THAT CANNOT BE TAUGHT, MY SIMPLE-MINDED SIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lmao pairrr chooooein dadi ke. 50,000 ka phatka for riddhima, as per rate card. (plus how much ever the 2 hugs would have cost..............)

AW MANNNNNNNN, LOOK AT HIS BABY 🥺🥺🥺 FACE. AND DADI’S HAPPINESSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS A GENUINELY GOOD MOMENT! THIS IS THE SHIT I WATCH TELLYWOOD FORRRR.

but this bhagwaan talk is not very vansh-y. huh. guess there’s nothing like surviving falling off a 1000 foot cliff to become religious.

I???????????? AM?????????? GENUINELY?????? SO??????? SOFT????????????????????

“yeh kaise ho sakta hai??? poori zindagi mein maine itna daraawana sapna nahi dekha hai!!! aur yeh toh haqeeqat banke aa gaya!!”

snortttttttttttttt. i love itttttttt. I LOVE ITTTTTTTTT.

i got distracted by the fly crawling all over K’s varmaala. reminiscent of the mike pence fly!

“mujhe toh nahi lagta yeh vansh hai. [...] it’s just not possible!”

ASDKDJFSDLKFJLSDKJFLSDJK THE MOMENT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!!!!!!

bhaiiiiiiiiiii has to manaaofy roothi behenaaaa firsttttt. yesssss ishaaaniiiiiii make him work for itttttt. bhai dooj bhi miss kar diya manhoos ne apne dramay karne ke chakkar main!!!!!

lmaooooooooooooooooooooooo kabir’s reaction at his ek hazaaron mein meri behenaaaaa hai getting taken tf back. besttttttttttttt.

“mere chote prince ya princess ka kya haal hai? khayaal rakha uska?”

“jaan se bhi zyaada.”

“par ab aap aa gaye hain. toh thodi careless ho sakti hoon. haina?”

WHEN I TELL YOU I YELLED SO FUCKING HAPPILY AT MY SCREEN AT THIS MOMENT?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!??!

question about siya. and promise ki ab main aa gaya hoon na, sabbbbbb theek kar doonga. haaaaaaye, old shivaay waali feelings i’m getting yaaaar, when he was Best Big Brother. god, i really love this tropeeeee. yeh waala tellywood set hamesha aise bade bhaiyyon se aabaad rahe!

angre still like wHoo aRe yOu tHo??????

RAM BHARAT MILAAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

lmaooooooo vansh turning around to look at chachi and her fakeasssssss

chachi twitter/insta fandom ki awaaz hote hue is like your beardddddd tho :’((((((((( and V is like hospital staff ne hulia bigaad diya. BITCH MORE LIKE IMPROVED IT 1000x. ugh so stinkin hotcutegorgeous you are right nowwwwww.

like this face he made???????? i just cannot standdddddddddddd how fucking good he looks in this ep?!?!!?!?!?

“meri soch se kahin zyaada achche se sambhaal raha hai yeh sabhi ko.” lmao riddhima, you dumbassssssssss. you are just so fucking stupiddddd istg.

lmao his ice cold look at mummy’s fakeassery.

backstory toh plan kii thi in dono ne, lekin riddhima ne itnaaaaa zyaada bhi nahi training dii ke itnaaaa chhaaaaaa jaaaye lol.

sdlkjdslkfjlskdjfldkfjldskjfldskjfldksjfldskfjlkdsjkl time for sexxxyyyyyyyyyyy

i just want someone to look at me with as much lust and mirth as vansh looks at kabir. that’s all i’m asking for.

riddhima looking at this like danggggggg i about to lose both my men. that too, to each other.

asdflkdsjflkdsjflkjdslfkjdslkfjlksdjflkdsjflkdsjflkjdslfkj he literally gave K the european “up yours” gesture while showing him his ghaav. i truly do love V2.0

“shareer ke ghaav bhar lenge, kabir. lekin dil ke ghaav....... zindagi bhar ke liye dard de jaatein hain.”

OMFG THIS DUMBASS STILL DOESN’T REALISE THAT IT’S VANSH?!!?!?!?!?!!? THIS IS LITERALLY THE SAME DIALOGUE *SHE* TOLD HIM THE DAY SHE DISCOVERED RAGINI AND THEY BOTH HAD INJURIES ON THEIR HANDS AFTER HE PUNCHED THE CUPBOARD!!!!!!!!!!!! RIDDHIMA YOU LITERAL DINGDONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

V demanding answers of mummy ki just what this asshole doing in my house, and ishani is just tooooooooo happy to fill bhai in on the goss. lmaooooooo i loveeeee ittttttt!!!!!!!!!

V like hmmmmmmmm seems a little too nicely wrapped up for my liking.

lmao chachi is like oh god if he catches their kaand, then ours is just thaaaaat much easier to find out, and she’s putting in a good word for mummy and K. koiiiiiiiiiiii faayyyda nahi hai. even in the unlikely event that he’s not vansh, photuuuuu dekh ke hi pehchaan gaya tha vihaan ke tum log awwal number ke draamebaaz ho.

kiskoooooooo pattttiiiii padaaaa rahe ho tum log haan???? bhai apna hardware/software/anti-malware sabbbbbbbb upgrade karwaaake aaya hai. aise nahi phasne waala.

chaachi is like IT’S ALL RIDDHIMA’S FAULT! SHE’S THE ONE WHO LET HIM IN!!!!!!!!!!

welp! :) :) :) :)

BEST EPISODE I’VE EVER WATCHED OF THIS SHOW?!?!!?!?!?!? YUP!!!!!!!!!!!! VERY PSYCHED FOR WHAT’S COMING UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

butterflies • mike hanlon

(mike hanlon x reader)

requested: Can you write something for Mike? Whenever you have time of course😊 I don’t mind if it’s smut or fluff, imagine or head cannons. I just really need more Mike in my life💗 thank you -🃏 p.s ilysm

warning: swearing, brief mentions of sex thx richie (and stan and bill), just fluffy stuff, underage drinking, unedited

[losers + reader are 18 in this.]

i wrote this rly quickly bc i just had an idea and im in love w mike, i hope u guys enjoy! i also made this gender neutral

♡

1.8k words

"what're you staring at, toots?" a cheeky voice pulls you out of your daydream.

you look to your left and stare at richie, cheeks heating up. "what are you talking about?" you ask, feeling flustered. your friend chuckles, the lenses of his glasses glinting in the midday sun.

it's hot today - you, eddie, and richie had just crawled from the quarry to rest on blankets, your skin warm and hair dripping onto your bodies as you watch the others swim.

in the distance, a bout of laughter grabs your attention and you focus on your friends. mike's got bev in his arms as he tosses her through the water, flying and both of them laughing. you smile, watching mike's back muscles move, his blinding smile as he wipes water from his eyes.

bill socks him on the shoulder lightly in jest and mike turns his head with a laugh. and then mike's warm eyes are locking with yours from far away and your stomach flutters. he waves, and you softly wave back.

"uh, that."

you look back with a frown to eddie, who's staring at you with a straight look. richie's got the same one on his own angular face and you scowl at them, crossing your arms. "i don't know what you're on about. you guys are assholes, anyways." you mutter the second part, toe nudging the sand at the edge of your towel.

"it's okay, y/n.

your eyebrows lift and you sigh, surprised by the moment of sincerity from the boy who's always joking.

"then you can finally fuck him all you want."

"wait, now. y/n fucking who?" stan asks, walking up with a grin and flanked by ben and bev on either side. they all fall to the ground and shake their hair out with towels or grab their phone.

"obviously mike. who else?" eddie adds, tossing you a smirk. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. a quick glance proves that bill and mike are still in the water, making their way over slowly but in deep conversation. at least they're out of earshot.

"yeah, she's been hung up on him since the seventh grade. we're eighteen now, doll. it's time." richie says this with a half-full mouth of beer, prompting you, ben, bev, stan, and eddie all to give him a grossed out look.

"oh fuck off, tozier, leave her alone." stan mumbles, digging through the cooler to pull out a beer and handing one to eddie before pulling his keys to open his own. "you jealous, stanny?" richie mutters, making kissy noises. you roll your eyes and crack a grin despite your embarrassment.

"please. y/n's all mike's, none for me. he's just as hung up on her." stan mutters with a grin and you toss a rock at him in annoyance. god, they're the worst.

"she's also a person, you know." bev says, sending a pointed look to the boys just as bill and mike walk over, towels around their shoulders.

"y/n? a p-person? not so sure." bill teases, winking at you. you stick your tongue out at him, just glad they'd only caught the tail-end of that conversation. mike sits next to you, handing you a cold beer with a warm smile.

you feel those stupid butterflies again.

"i don’t know. y/n's pretty human to me." mike mutters as he wipes his face with his hand. you grin into your knees, feeling flustered and very, very, very infatuated with the boy next to you.

richie groans with a teasing smile, "see! that's what im talking about, are you guys j-" he makes a loud grunt then as ben whacks him in the stomach.

later that night, two more beers and four slices (you were so hungry) of pizza later, you find yourself gazing up at the stars. being at mike's house was one of your favorite things ever. besides the most obvious reason, the one that makes you flush, you do like coming to the farm because it's far enough away from the town that the stars are clear and you can lay and stare at them for hours.

luckily, mike kept his window screen removed so he himself could go on the roof, so after everyone had fallen asleep, you'd tip toed up to his room to crawl onto the roof. you'd also tried to hide your disappointment as you opened his door and he wasn't there - he hadn't been asleep downstairs with the others so you'd assumed he'd gone to sleep in his own bed.

nonetheless, you were up here now and it was perfect - the crickets chirping and frogs croaking in the creek a few yards to the left of the house, close enough that you can here it gurgling as the water flows past the rocks you used to jump across as kids.

you sigh. when did you grow up?

a breeze ruffles your hair lightly and you can smell the remnants of smoke in the air from the fire mike and ben had lit although that was hours ago.

mike. the thought brings butterflies all over your body and you curse yourself and your anxious crush. he was just so... so soft. he was strong and soft and careful and carefree - he was his own opposite and that thought itself confused you but you don't really care because every time he speaks, you want nothing more than just to listen for ages. you sit up, eyes wide and breaths halting at your own thoughts. wait.

that's love, isn't it?

"want some company?" a voice calls, prompting you to turn back and look towards the window, your heart skipping a beat at the familiar figure.

"hi mike." you say timidly, your face somehow feeling warm against the cool summer night. perfect timing. "hey, y/n/n." he mutters as he pulls himself through the ledge and out onto the roof, plopping himself next to you. he sits close enough that you can smell him and feel him against your leg - his smell is one of mint, wildflowers and some unknown cologne that makes you feel tingly.

"i thought you were asleep." you say, hating that you feel so damn nervous around your friend. if only these feelings would go away. he chuckles, looking at you, "no, i was getting water in the kitchen and when i came back, you weren't with the others. i knew you'd be up here."

something about his words make you feel very mushy and you give him a smile, "how'd you know?" you ask softly. he shrugs, his eyes darting quickly from yours to your lips and your heart freezes.

"i know you more than you think, y/n." he says equally as soft and then you notice how close he really is, how honest he sounds. and then your eyes flick away, taking in the soft rustle of the leaves in the distance, a lone car tumbling down the road into town, the left taillight blown out. you chuckle; it looks sort of like the car richie bought sophomore year that you all used to pile into to drive into bangor.

you then think about all your memories with the losers; how every single one always circulates around a familiar smile, a certain laughter and the kindest person you've ever known.

and then mike's arm lifts to rest around you and you quickly snap out of your stare at the grassy field of his farm to look at him. he's smiling back and you realize his voice and body next to yours might possibly be the one thing bearing the weight of your mind as your head threatens to join the shining stars and clouds above you. he takes care of you in ways that neither of you notice, in ways that you'll forever be grateful for.

"i just want to say something." he says, cutting out the silence with his crisp words, looking out towards the skyline where you can just make out the main street of derry over the fields.

you lean your head slightly onto his shoulder and hum, nervous that if you tried to speak no words would come out but just the sound of your racing heartbeat.

"y/n, i really like you."

it's said with no other inflections, nothing but the raw words doing so much to overpower your brain. your heart stops beating then starts again at a thumping, resounding pace. you think you're short-circuiting.

"oh... what?" you ask shyly, feeling extremely flushed. there's no way that mike likes you back. he smiles at you and god, those butterflies are about to escape from your chest. "you're not joking, are you?" you ask, biting your lip as your eyes navigate every feature of his face as he watches you. you dont even know why you said it - it's mike you're talking to. he would never lie or joke about something like this, he would never, ever hurt you like that.

"i have never felt this way about anyone.” he says honestly, a smile still on his face and your heart thumps wildly in your chest, a smile splitting your face in two as you shake your head. "y/n/n, i would never lie to you." but you already knew that.

your heart is swelling with so much antsy happiness that you almost huff a laugh, shaking your head as your cheeks flush. he's just watching you, half-smiling as he waits for you to fully react. he knows you so well, you almost cry, but instead you speak.

"i like you too, i think i lo-" you cut yourself off and suck in a breath, realizing that you haven't taken one in over thirty seconds. "i have for a long time. do you-do you think i could..." you trail off, feeling awkward.

he smiles gently, the hand that isn't around your shoulders reaching to softly cup your jaw. you can't speak as he pulls you closer and shit, even if you could you don't want to because you would ruin this beautiful moment, the way you're breathing each other in.

you close the gap.

his lips are warm against yours and the arm around your shoulder moves to your waist, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss. he tastes like vanilla ice cream and you whimper slightly, your hands falling on his chest as your heart pounds in your own. he's smilling, then - you can feel it.

you laugh with happiness as you realize that you can feel him smiling against your lips and that you'll be able to feel that for a very long time. he pulls back and pecks your lips again, staring into your eyes and then you peck his lips. he laughs and it makes you beam.

his arm pulls you into his side and he lays his head on yours as you stare out into the countryside. "are you tired, mike?" you ask, concerned that you've kept him up. you feel him shake his head and you smile softly, hand lacing with his against the tiles of the roof.

"no. i think i could stay up here forever." he whispers.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @beauregard-s @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell //

#🃏#mike hanlon x reader #mike hanlon is my boy #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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katieamazeballs · 5 years

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DWTS Live Tour Recap 2020

Whew....this day has been a doozy between lack of sleep and a weird ass day at work. This years tour was a vastly different experience than in the past because Mother Nature is a raging beeotch.... but it was still so amazing! Details below the break to save y’alls timelines some grief.

We started off our day at work and school. I had known, and bitched extensively, about the 100% rain outlook but it was pretty sunny all day. I picked Abs up at early release and I swear to you...the second the car door shut, the sprinkles started. Because of course it did. We got ready and went for some lunner only to be caught in INSANE traffic. Fun fact, Floridians can’t drive in the rain and there was a fatal accident on a major bridge that shut it down and made traffic a nightmare. No biggie though, because it was nasty out and we knew they weren’t just going to be wandering downtown so we were in no rush. We got downtown about 4 and we started wandering.

(Gratuitous bus pic)

We stopped and chatted with the nicest security lady who, bless her heart, was sitting there between the buses huddled under a golf umbrella. She said she hadn’t seen anyone in quite a while (probably because they were inside teaching the show to Keo) but that if we had been there at 7am they were all outside chillin and going to work out and such. We did a lap then stood under the awning at the front of the arena for a bit.

(Why is she so weird?)

During our laps we saw Keo (who was limping something fierce...like I wasn’t sure he was going to make it up the steps to the arena limp...looked like he pulled a hammy) but due to the sprinkling and the running buses he either didn’t hear us or pretended to not hear us. We also saw Val, possibly Jenna (hood was pulled over her to her eyes), Daniella, and Wit. Everyone but Wit was doing the mad dash into the arena from the buses. Wit was in full hair and makeup and talked to Abs for a second as she was entering her bus...Abs didn’t ask for a picture because Wit clearly wanted to get into the dry and not mess herself up. We did a couple more laps then standing under the awning loops then met up with @loveisstatic.

(Poor sweetheart bore witness to Savage being savage most of the night.)

We decided to take a lap but didn’t see anything....sigh. After a pretty epic battle over the fact that Haley said she also “liked” Alan....as in, he’s a good dancer, which “someone” took as “Imma steal your man”.

We went in the arena and went to the merch table where Abs refused a tour tshirt because Hannah was on it...lol. I was trying to get a cute pic of Abs and her 10 paddle....but home girl was trying to make sure she wasn’t standing next to Hannah ffs....

Then we went to get drinks (ha for Haley) and were very quickly let in to our seats. Haley was actually only a couple rows in front of us, so we were able to chat before the show and during intermission. The show is, of course, absolutely amazing! It has a cute “theme” of driving the bus on tour and the voice overs were cracking me up. After the Magic Mike number, Jen talks to the lady rubbing up on Val. The poor lady clearly either has zero idea who the two of them are or has lost her senses due to all the testosterone filled sweat on her person. Jen “You know, I recently got married” Lady “Oh, congratulations!!!” Jen “Yeah, that man you were just grinding and rubbing and smacking on....that’s my husband” Lady “OMG!” Jen “Yeah, his name is Val. I’ll let it slide this time (then whatever the script is)”. The lady was so embarrassed. It was funny. There was the absolute cutest little girl in the front row that Val came out and talked to. She’s on the DWTS Tour story. That section of the show was pretty awesome, actually. I loved his speech about breaking the tv barrier and coming to do shows live to all of us who were gracious enough to invite them into our homes every Monday night. Abs fave dance was Daddy Shark (I’ll steal her video and post it later....we can’t have enough reposts of that gem) and anything that had Alan and mine was the entire Hero section at the end where they’re wearing white (for the dancing) and Dream On (for the music). Actually, the dance where they’re passing the key to the tour around was pretty awesome, too. Then, it comes to intermission and Abs starts bitching about being hungry. I told her sorry (she’s not a popcorn or nut fan and that’s all they really had) and she starts made some wildly and embarrassing comments about want candy...Alan’s candy complete with eyebrow waggles and cackling. I think that it was at that point that our new friend decided that kid is a hot damn mess. Jenna’s swan dive is absolutely amazing in person....mostly for the reaction it causes. I, of course, knew it was coming but the lady next to me literally slap/grabbed her husband and whisper yelled “OH SHIT!”. After the show, the adults in the group had to pee. The teenager in the group just bitched that we were going to make her late to the buses. (This is a very important fun fact for later.) They have some weird ass security dude on tour this year who had some rule where the crowd standing (couldn’t have been more than 20 of us) had to scrunch into the space of 2 of those metal fence things as opposed to the other 57000 of them lining the buses. Every 5 min or so, he’d waltz out and yell at us to “get on this side of the line. No one can be between the buses”...except none of us moved after the first few times. He was intense and a good time fun ruiner. Kept trying to tell us that the police were going to see us standing at his one of his non approved fences (the same ones we’ve stood at for 2 other tours) and “shut the whole thing down”. Sure, Stan. Evenutally, he stopped fussing and Kate came out.

She is a gem, honestly. Super sweet and funny as hell. Love me some her. After Kate went in, it was cold and SOMEONE in our group had to pee (remember that fun fact....ha). Val came out and got into the runner van and scooted off to the airport. There was much discussion of how we knew it was him and how we knew where he was going. Sasha came out and we talked to him and got pics.

(Not all his selfies are hysterical gems that will be reused for all of eternity)

I gave him all my notes and Glebs drugs because we thought we were going to have to leave. He said he’d pass them out for me. We were deciding to leave when Emma popped out of the bus all “Which one of you gave the Benadryl to Gleb? That was bloody brilliant!”.

We took pics with her and decided to stick around for a bit more because Abs needed wanted to see Alan. Thankfully, he came out shortly after and turned on the front camera flash I didn’t even know I had.

(He also has very long arms for a good selfie angle)

After Alan came Wit and Daniella and thankfully that was it.

The grumpy security dude told us all to leave and I think everyone was ready. We were stacked like 6 people deep having to shove up to the front for pics as the pros were like “WTF is wrong with these weirdos in Jacksonville and why aren’t they standing over at all these other perfectly decent fences”. Like, they’d move over to the fence to the left to take pics and we’d all be like “NO! We aren’t allowed!”. It was cold and it was a week night and everyone was pretty much over the foolishness at that point. What was cool about the night was I got to not only meet up with a fun tumblr friend, but there were a few of us at the buses that have started recognizing each other from other tours. The girl Brandon pulled on stage recognized Abs and me and then I recognized a dude we’ve seen each year. Funny story, the girl (who is a huge Derek stan) and I were talking about how pretty Gleb is (after the Benadryl thing) and she was talking about Brandon and having to touch his butt on stage. She’s all “I mean, it’s a nice butt, but he’s just too cute to rub up on”. She’s not wrong, he is just the cutest thing in person....just not in a sexy Daddy Shark type way. Anyways, another tour down. Plans to see MVPJ with a new friend and bus stalk at the “next tour” with the other bus stalkers. Can’t wait till next time!

#dwts live tour

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franklyshipping · 5 years

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Day 25 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

Well.....here we are. The 25th of December, Christmas Day. This isn't a full on fanfic to be honest, this is kind of an epilogue to everything I've posted this month. You're gonna see snippets of everyone on Christmas Day, and so I hope you enjoy it.....let's do it!

TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch @bim-trimler @bimlee-trimmer @shawn-flynn-the-switch @goog-ler-iplier @robbie-lee-zombie @jack-leeboyman @silvlee-shepherd @yandere-ipli-ler @thehostofleetrature @ed-edlee @google-switchy-red @googlee-oliver @erik-lee-derekson @ericleederekson @googlee-green @thegoodnewsdoctler @doctoripliler @marvin-lee-magician @marvinleemagician @marvin--the-magnificent @bingy-switch @bingylee @dr-schneeplestein @dr-schneeple-switch @bright-light-mark @kingoflesquirrel @king-of-lee-squirrels @chase-brodlee @darkipli-ler @darkipliler @giggles-and-pink-mustaches @wilford-lee-warfstache @the-authler @the-dapper-switch @its-lee-mad-mike

Plus, all the other characters included that don't have accounts in the community that I'm aware of: Harold B Darrensworth, Blankgameplays, Abe the Detective, Goopiplier, Kinkiplier, Benjamin the Butler, Gooper, Mini Bing, Angelicsepticeye, Angus the Survival Hunter, ~ Isaac Brody, Marceline Brody, Sofia Schneeplestein, Luca Schneeplestein (All first names are NOT CANON, I just made em up) ~ Madpat, Natemare, FNAF Night Guard, District Attorney (Y/N), and Celine ~~~ALSO PLEASE BE AWARE THAT I DON'T HAVE EVERY EGO IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIT THEM ALL!

Also, if anyone's interesting....the total word count for the series was 59,546.....wowie....okay, now onto the fic!

So…here we are, the day is at hand…I’m not going to go into detail because y’know, I want to leave them all to it, but I can set the scene for all of you. The main living room is full, and there’s nobody sat on their own…but it’s not overwhelming either. It’s just perfect.

First off, Harold was with Anti, curled up and giggling against his chest as the glitch smirked fondly down at him. Harold had never looked more dishevelled and out of order, but he was so damn happy. Anti had found a spare stream of emerald and silver tinsel, and was using it to tickle around Harold’s ears and neck….at Harold’s request. See, when they’d finally worked as a team, decorating together, and the more and more tinsel Harold felt….the more and more he wondered how it would feel at his tickle spots. Of course, Anti was more than eager to have the chance to tickle Harold again, and so was just enjoying the feeling of the flustered man giggling and squeaking into his chest….it was the most precious sight.

Then there was Bim and Shawn, who were sat with Google Blue and Blank. Shawn was blushing into Bim’s shoulder as Bim rambled on about the beauty of Shawn’s carving at the top of the tree, much to the fond amusement of Blue and Blank. The four of them shared a couch, with Bim, Shawn and Blue sitting, whilst Blank lay atop them with his feet in Google’s lap. Every few moments, as they listened to Bim, Google swiped his fingers up his boyfriend’s feet with a cheeky wink….because why the hell not.

Then we have Robbie and Jackie….surrounded by so much chocolate. So much. Robbie had already eaten so much of it that he was practically vibrating as babbled to and jostled the superhero, filled with giddy joy. Jackie of course was relishing in it, because Robbie was too darn cute and he adored him so much. Also, Jackie had the luxury of Robbie insisting on feeding him chocolates, I mean, how he could he refuse a) such a sweet offer, and b) Robbie’s adorable face? He just couldn’t.

Now, here we have our first cuddle pile consisting of a detective and a VERY snuggly polyamory. Consider Abe adopted. They’d found a particularly comfy rug together, engaging in a cuddly tickle-fest where no one was safe. Host would get tickles as punishment for his board game antics, Silver would get tickles just for being adorable, Yandere would get tickles when they were being a sassy brat, and Abe would get tickled by the whole poly because they loved to gang up on their loved ones. It was adorable.

Now, onto our next cuddle pile on another rug….where we have two blooming couples on our hands. Especially in Eric and Google Green’s case because Eric was insisting on never taking off his flower crown. He was snuggled into Green’s torso and softly nuzzling his core, purring at the warmth and giggling at how Green would twitch and blush. Then there were Google Red and Ed, the former lying on his brother’s legs whilst Ed basically lay upon Red’s whole body. Ed was nuzzling Red’s core, whilst smirking and playing footsie so he could watch his Google turn into flustered little cranberry.

Now, let us have some absolute cuties. In addition to his normal gag, a certain ego (Wilford) had gifted Kink a pair of cute, purple, glittery padded handcuffs….which he was now wearing after being persuaded by the doctor and the, supposedly, innocent android. Now, he was being subjected to the most debilitating, sadistic teases from the doctor in his ear as Oliver teased all his tickle spots, both of them cooing about how vulnerable he was and about how he loved it. They weren’t wrong, and Kink felt like they were the best gifts he could have asked for.

Now, this next group are a subtle group, nestled together on another couch covered in quilts and smiles. Mike was wearing one of Benjamin’s shirts as a pyjama shirt, whilst he fed Benjamin spoonfuls of his experimental festive ice creams. Gingerbread, Candy Cane, Christmas Pudding, there was a whole range…and Benjamin was in heaven. Meanwhile, Jamie was wearing Celine’s shawl over his pyjamas whilst Celine wore his Christmas jumper (which was adorned with a pattern of pocket watches wearing Santa hats). They were holding hands, fingers interlaced and legs entangled as they competed over who could give the tickliest of kisses. This was a contest that was to remain ongoing for a very, very long time.

Now, we have a playful revenge taking place. Mini Bing was squeaking and giggling on the floor in-between two people, encased by an amber mist….a tickling charm no less. Marvin’s eyes gleamed with fondness as he relaxed on the floor with Bing, who was snickering with satisfaction, both at the vengeance and at Marvin’s wonderful assistance. Not only this, but Bing was also playing with Marvin’s long hair because it was absolutely frickin rad and soft….and Marvin certainly didn’t complain.

Now we have our egos of the outdoors, the two angels, the hunter, and the King. King had allowed himself to be coaxed inside, and was happy he’d let it happen….because he’d met so many lovely people, as had his subjects. Some of them were occupying themselves with nuzzling the wings of Angelo and Angie, who were both in happy stitches from it all. The King himself was giggling too, because Angus had decided to playfully try and lick off some of his peanut butter beard, and it was the cutest, giddiest battle of all time.

Here now, we have a father, son, and that son’s newest unlikely godfather. Schneeple was regretting his decision a tad though, because now said godfather (the Author) was sat on top of him and attempting to coach Luca in the arts of tickle torture. However, the little boy was only really interested in giggling his heart out every time his father laughed….so Schneeple was getting wrecked by the Author, but everybody was having a hell of a lot of happy fun. Also, having his daughter Sofia heckling him and teasing him along with Madpat certainly helped….make it even more fun.

We have another father too….also being completely and utterly ganged up on. With Isaac sat on his chest, Mare straddling his waist, and Marceline pinning his hands….it’s made Chase’s face oh so wonderfully vulnerable. Mare was smirking down at the dad as Marceline fluttered her make-up brushes all over Chase’s cheeks, and every time he squealed, Isaac clapped his hands giddily. This was frankly horrendously cute, I think you can all agree.

To a more intimate pair now. Yanan and Guard shared an armchair, and the former was really blushing up a storm. Guard was teasing them, relentlessly purring in their ear about all the ways he was going to tickle them and make them smile and feel all warm and flustered inside. Yanan loved every second. They gasped when he talked about nibbling their ribs for Christmas Dinner they squeaked when he teased about teasing their bare feet….and they squealed and hid in his chest when Guard simply cooed about how much cute mirth he was going to coax from their pretty lips. It was beautiful.

And now, our final group….oh what a myriad. First, we have all the Jims, and a group of Jims I believe is called….a Jim. A Jim of Jims. Well, three of them were clamouring to Dark whilst the youngest blushed. Reporter Jim’s brothers were gushing about the gift album he’d made to Dark, and Dark was just enjoying hearing about such a loving deed….and smirking at the flustered Jim, winking at him occasionally because he was an evil shit who wanted to keep him blushing for as long as possible. There was another young man blushing too, namely Goop….who was being frantically hugged by a squealing Wilford Warfstache who had just opened his lava lamp gift. So much love, so little anxiety.

Then….there’s our guy. Our glob. Our globbins. Our goop. Our gloop. Our goopy. Our Gooper. Going round from ego to ego, person to person, child to child….and being given so much love that he didn’t know what to do with it all. Cuddles, tickles, kisses, nuzzles, pokes, coos, kind words….there was just so much love. However you should know, that Gooper had no festive duties today, the egos had insisted upon it. From chef to Santa to present bearer to comfort giver to cook to organiser….he’d done it all, and now it was time for him to relax and enjoy everything the day had to offer…..and he did. Everyone did.

Well....that's it. I really hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I have. I urge you to please reblog and comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of this Christmas series....it would honestly mean the world to me. Luv yous xx

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katecarteir · 6 years

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when tomorrow comes

when tomorrow comes (i’ll be on my own)

rating: mature

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier

summary: Richie pushed himself up on his elbows and smirked. “You know, Eddie my love, we suddenly have great potential right here. Don’t you remember what it was like? Back in Derry… all the sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught all the time? What an adrenaline rush!”

“What a constant risk of anxiety attack you mean,” Eddie corrected, but he was grinning too. “But yeah, it was pretty exciting. What’s your point?”

“What if… and really hear me out here, Eds… we just let them think we were broken up?”

chapter count: 7/7

Eddie slipped his hand into Richie’s, leaning his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. Richie was talking animated with his free hand, his rumbling laughter shaking both their bodies has it came through. They’d been interrupted in a very intense cuddling session- which no doubt would have been a make out session if it weren’t for Richie’s busted up lip- and were demanded answers on what exactly the fuck had been going on.

There had been a short period of eye contact between Eddie and Richie, before Eddie had responded: “We’re in love with each other. What else do you need to know?” Everybody had backed off pretty quickly after that, nodding and knowing that they wouldn’t be getting anymore information from the pair. After Mike and Beverly had fussed over Richie’s injuries, Richie had begged them to go out and get food.

“I didn’t eat any of my dinner during that date from hell, because I was anxious as fuck so I’m literally going to starve to death right now if I don’t get food into me,” Richie had declared, grabbing Eddie and tugging him off the bed. That was how the Losers had ended up sitting around a booth in a 24hr diner at 11:30 at night, Richie’s fear darkened with bruises and lip well swollen.

“Okay, I know you said you didn’t need to go to the hospital but uh…” Stan said, watching the way Richie’s bottom lip get ripped back open as he laughed. Eddie dapped at it with his napkin, frowning softly. “But I still think you should get yourself checked out. Maybe I don’t know, go to the police… press some charges.”

“No,” Richie said stubbornly, stiffening beside Eddie. “I want this to be over. I’ve got worse beatings from bullies in high school. I don’t want to go to the hospital and I don’t want to press charges. This is just shit that happens, right?”

“No, Richie, it isn’t,” Ben said sadly, twirling his straw around in his strawberry milkshake. “This isn’t something that’s supposed to happen to people, and if you don’t report this then it could keep happening. This guy could-“

“Don’t put that on me!” Richie said sharply, Eddie feeling how sweaty his boyfriend’s palms were getting in his own. “I’m not responsible for what that bastard does to anybody.”

“That’s not what anybody is trying to do,” Bev said, gently resting her hand on Ben’s wrist. “You don’t need to report anything, nobody will make you and if you say no then we won’t bring it up again. It’s your decision, Ben’s just saying that if you report it then maybe you could prevent him from doing this to somebody else again.”

“He’ll do it again,” Bill said darkly. “Ruh-Ruh-Rich, if I’d reporting it what I’d suh-seen at the party last yuh-yuh-year.. I could have stuh-stopped this.”

Eddie rubbed at Richie’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his face. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t need to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We’ll never bring it up again if you don’t want us to. Okay?”

Richie leaned back against him, pressing Eddie’s forehead and stroking his cheek. “I love you, have I ever told you that?”

“Hmmmm, only everyday for the last ten years.” Eddie chuckled, brushing their noses together. Patty shot a triumphant smirk towards their friends, mouthing a simple “i told you so”.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Richie stepped out of the court room, looking exhausted but with a slim smile on his face. Throughout the entire process, he’d refused to let anybody come in with him. They were allowed to go to the court house, but they had to wait outside. He didn’t want anybody to hear his statements, didn’t want them there when he had to relive it. The process had been long and painful for Richie, and for his friends in extension. Bill had been allowed within the room once he was called in a witness, to tell his stories which he knew about William Campbell.

A little over a month ago, after a particularly rough day of questioning, Richie had broken down to Eddie over dinner. He’d told Eddie everything, through tears and sniffles, until they were both crying into bowls of cold Mr Noodles. Even after that, Richie had refused Eddie entrance to the court room, claiming he wanted didn’t want the process done up in front of the people he loved. He hadn’t even told his parents what was happening, declaring that he didn’t want them to get worried about something was already over.

It was the last day of the trial, assuming that the jury was able to come to a decision. Bill had come out nearly a hour earlier after his final round of questions, looking tired and defeated. Eddie knew that the look would stem from Bill’s struggles with stuttering under the pressure more than the results of the actual case itself, but it still made Eddie’s nerves spike.

“I won,” Richie said, voice exhausted and eyes dropping. Eddie let out an excited noise, rushing forward and leaping at his boyfriend. He jumped up, arms wrapping tightly around Richie’s neck and draping legs around his waist. Richie caught him, chuckling. The rest of their friends were surrounding them in a moment, letting out a stream of congratulations and kind words that became a grumble of nothings.

As Richie put Eddie down, he could see the slim disappointment in his boyfriend’s eyes. That maybe he won, but he didn’t get everything he wanted. It was likely a slap on the wrist, as it was always in any sort of situation like this, when no punishment would feel good enough for the struggle you went through. Eddie pressed himself into Richie’s side and looked up at him, Richie giving him a soft smile that promised of a more serious, genuine conversation later.

“I think…” Bill sighed, smiling tiredly. “I could use some curly fries from Floats right about now? You guys in?”

Richie grinned. “Abs-a-fucking-loutely.”

#reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #when tomorrow comes #im sorry... this is such big bad #but i just... i fucking wanted this fic done #im sick of it :'D

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years

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DOTW - 24... there's some sexy bits... but I don't know if I'm happy to leave it there

Coming off of work, Levi eyed the clock with a yawn. It was a little after 7. The perfect time to get things done. Well, one thing. Retrieving Eren's things from Marco and Jean's house. He might be over stepping, but seeing Eren so broken hearted wouldn't leave his mind. Also, he was hoping Jean had a black eye, the horsefaced arsehole certainly deserved it. Walking up to the front door, Levi may have knocked slightly harder than socially polite. A small wave of pleasure rose up when he saw how exhausted the alpha was when opened the door, unfortunately he wasn't sporting a black eye... "What the fuck do you want?" Such nice manners so early in the morning. His alpha was itching to teach Jean his place. To make him thoroughly suffer... but... responsible adulting had to come first "I'm here to collect Eren's things" "Oh. What? Fine. Wait here" Keeping his temper until Jean came back with Eren's bag, he took it from Jean. Jean immediately trying to shut the door, which Levi stopped with his foot "That's everything" "No, it really isn't. You and Marco both owe him an apology" "What? Fuck off" "Are you serious? What the fuck does Marco even see in you?" "Listen man, get the fuck off my property" "No. You're going to listen to me. You have absolutely no right treating Eren as you have been. He was here for Marco. He stayed with him, and because of him, your daughter was born happy and healthy" "Because he didn't even bother calling an ambulance" "No. He called me. A fucking paramedic. He called me because he wanted to know how to help Marco! There was a huge car pile-up. Even if he'd called for an ambulance, Marco would have been put on a wait list, because people were fucking dead and dying in the accident. So yes. Eren called me. A trained medical professional. He was with Marco, when he was giving birth, and abusing him for it. Marco is Eren's first friend. He values him. He stayed with him, and then he was worried for Marco when you arrived smelling like another omega. He was worried. Marco had just given birth without you. His emotions were all over the place. How would you have felt if Marco stank like another alpha after being away for days? Even if you had faith in him, you'd still be upset and confused. Eren only wanted what was best for you, your baby and his best friend. You both made him feel like absolute shit" Jean growled, Levi thrusting the verbal knife into the alpha's heart, preparing for the mental kill... because he couldn't actually fucking kill him. Eren had known way too much death in his life "You know he's not right in the head" For fucks sake "Because he's a fucking abuse victim! He's been abused. He saw his brother and mother murdered in front of him! It doesn't matter if you didn't fucking know. You have no right to people like shit, especially not someone who would go out of there way to always to be there for the people they care for. Eren is bright. And happy and he's been through hell and fucking back. So, yes. He's not always ok, but at least he is a better person than you are. Get your fucking shit together and apologise to him. You and Marco" Reaching out, he took the door handle as he moved his foot out the way, slamming the door shut in his own face, but also in Jean's. Eren wouldn't be happy he'd talked to Jean about it. In fact, he'd probably be pissed. But fuck it. His boyfriend deserved an apology. Stopping by the shops on the way home, he picked up a few different pastries and flowers for Eren. He was not a flower person. He'd never ever bought flowers for anyone at all. Ever. He and Eren had made breakfast? together, then he'd had to leave for work. He'd wished he could have stayed. He'd left Eren unpacking his room, and to deal with his feelings alone. With the drive back, it was 8:30am when he parked in the underground parking. Today was going so smoothly. Grabbing out his phone, he called Eren's counsellor for him. Booking him the first available appointment, which unfortunately was the following week. He knew Eren liked his new counsellor much better than Thomas, and he knew his omega wasn't happy that he hadn't been able to attend the last one. Gathering up the flowers and the pastries, he headed up to their apartment. Titan was at the door to great him as he let himself in quietly. Eren was sleeping on the sofa. Remote still in his hand, while what seemed to be cartoons played softly on TV. His shirt had hiked up, the blanket around his waist, while a smile played on his lips. He looked adorable. Letting his gaze drift down, the start of the smile turned downwards. Eren's ankles free from the blanket, the scars seemed so much more obvious than they'd ever been before. After being by Eren for so long, and hearing his nightmares, he had a fair idea that his boyfriend had been chained up somewhere. Someone had put him in chains and refused to let him go, no matter how much he'd begged them. He hadn't told Eren's his suspicions. He was waiting for Eren to be the one to tell him that. It was obvious he wasn't ready to talk about his past, so until then, he'd keep his mouth shut over it, and support Eren the best he could. Turning the TV off and covering Eren back up with the blanket, Levi then found a glass to turn into a vase, setting it on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, before setting the box of pastries next to it. He was tired, but wanted to be there when Eren woke. Taking a shower, he put the washing on, before grabbing the book he'd been ignoring from his bedside table. Returning to the living room, he opened to the bookmarked page. Realising he couldn't actually remember anything that had happened, he flicked back to page one, starting all over again as Titan decided it was time to yowl for his food. Hushing his cat, Titan glared, running over and jumping up by Eren's face, head butting him solidly "Mmm. Titan, what's the matter boy? Is it breakfast time?" Nuzzling into Titan's face, Titan started kneading at Eren's chest "I'm up. Let's..." Eren shot up, pulling Titan up with him. The tom yowling again, this time in protest. Letting out a small gasp, Eren looked from the flowers to him "Levi?! Flowers?" "Yeah. I saw them and stuff" Fuck. He was so awkward. It'd seemed a good idea at the time. And Eren looked happy... he just felt like a shitty idiot for doing something so dopey and romantic "They're beautiful... um, are they for me?" "They're not for me, and I'm not dating my cat" "Levi! They're perfect... wow..." Setting Titan carefully down, he scrambled up, throwing his arms around him "Thank you!" "You're welcome, brat. I picked breakfast up too, and your things from Marco and Jean's... but I forgot to bring them up" "You didn't have to do all that. I was trying to be awake for when you got home" "Is that why you were watching cartoons?" "Shit... I didn't mean to fall asleep with the TV on. I'm sorry" "I'm not mad" "Still... I'm sorry. How about I make you a cup of tea?" "That sounds perfect" "I can't believe you brought me flowers" "Eren, its bought. When you pay for something it's bought. But when you bring it with you, it's brought" "Hmm... I always kind of thought they were the same word. But... if you bought the flowers, then didn't you bring them home? Meaning you brought them with you" Closing his book, Levi placed it on the arm of the recliner, pulling Eren down into lap. Eren letting out a squeak of surprise "My smart omega. You figured that out right away, didn't you?" "Maybe?" Kissing him, Eren immediately kissed him back, trying to deepen the kiss while wriggling in his lap. As the kiss broke, Eren smiled at him, his face filled with love "Breakfast? And then can we cuddle?" "That sounds like an amazing plan" Eren must have taken a hundred photos of the flowers, as well as trying a tiny bit from each pastry. The rest returned to the box and the box safely stored in the fridge. Lead by his boyfriend into his bedroom, which had pretty much become theirs, Eren shyly smiled at him "What are you planning?" "Can we touch a little?" It kind of seemed a waste of a perfectly good shower, while his dick was straight up "hello" "Mmm. I can't say no to that. Not when I have such a beautiful boyfriend" "Levi..." "Clothes on is fine" "Um... can I maybe touch you?" "You want to touch me?" "If that's ok" Laying down on his back, Levi raised an eyebrow when Eren didn't move "You can start touching at any time" "I was thinking" Climbing up and straddling his lap, the touching Eren wanted to do was of his abs. It wasn't sexual, more like a massage with the occasional kiss thrown in. Starting with his shoulders, Eren worked his way down to his hips, the confused look on his face doing all kinds of things to Levi's heart "Eren? Are you ok?" "Yeah... sorry. Was that weird?" "No. You asked to touch me, and you did" "I just... you're always so warm and solid. But I don't really get to see your chest because I'm usually laying on it" He nearly pointed out the fact Eren didn't see his chest this time thanks to his shirt, but for whatever reason, this had been important to his boyfriend. Sliding off his lap, Eren crawled over a little ways so he could slide beneath the blankets, Levi taking it as sign to do the same, before spooning up behind him "I'm probably going to fall asleep soon" "It's ok. This feels nice" "Good..." When Levi woke, he growled lightly. He'd thought they'd dodge a bullet with Eren not being in heat when Mike had brought him home, but from the delicious smell beneath his nose, they hadn't. Maybe that was why Eren had wanted to touch him? Forcing himself to wake his boyfriend, Eren groaned, before practically flying off the bed "Le-Levi?" "You're going into heat" "I..." "It's ok. I'll grab my things. I'm not going to hurt you" "I... Levi..." "What is it?" "It hurts" "Your cramping because your body wanted your alpha's knot" Dropping into a crouch, Eren whined softly "It's ok. I promise I won't touch you" A promise that was becoming hard to keep. His dick fucking ached to be buried inside Eren's soft warmth. To fill him and breed him, to mark him as his. Everything that Eren wasn't ready for "It hurts so much" Climbing from his bed, his alpha screamed at him to comfort his boyfriend, while the logical side of his brain screamed at his alpha to "shut the fuck up". Eren wasn't ready for this, and right now, that was his top priority. Grabbing his phone and his keys, he all but ran from his apartment, ignoring Eren's calls for him. He'd slipped up once and fucked Eren while he was in heat. He wouldn't make that same mistake again. The omega was finally his, and as much as it hurt both of them, this was the right thing to do. * This was the second worst painful heat of his life, or maybe it was more painful then the one he'd had at Zeke's apartment because he was trapped with Levi's scent. His body felt so hot. His erection aching so badly, but his thoughts of how dirty and impure it was touch himself, wouldn't leave his mind. He'd tried to shower and to bath, but nothing was bringing relief. His body was crying out for Levi. His omega instincts demanding he be bred, but having delivered a baby, breeding was even scarier. He'd seen how hard it'd been for Marco, and Marco was a good omega. He wasn't a good omega. If he was, then Levi wouldn't have left him... No. Levi was a good alpha and left because he knew he wasn't ready. He hadn't understood why he'd wanted to touch Levi so badly. To feel boyfriend toned chest beneath his fingers... but now he did. Levi was a more than suitable mate in every manner. He'd wanted to touch Levi because he wanted the alpha to touch him too. Not whatever he'd spat out in embarrassment. From the shower, he'd returned to Levi's bed. Climbing under the covers and moaning at the alphas scent. Getting on all fours, he nuzzled into Levi's pillow, slick steadily streaming down his inner thighs as he lowered himself down, rubbing his dick against the sheets in a blind need. He didn't even realise what he was doing, not until he came into the towel still around his waist. His orgasm so intense, his whole body shook with the effort to not fall into his own mess. A deep shame hit him. He'd just fucked Levi's bed. Whimpering, he shoved the blankets off and rushed back to his own room, locking the door behind him. He shouldn't have done that! Why had he done that! And why was he on his hands and knees? He didn't understand this kind of heat. He hated his usual ones, but he could mostly cope through those. These ones he didn't get. On shaky legs he sank down on his bed. He needed to apologise to Levi for being so bad. Worked up, in more ways then one, Eren called Levi's number. He'd been scared Levi wouldn't answer, but when the alpha did, his omega swelled with happiness "Eren? Are you ok?" "Levi... I'm sorry..." "Hey. No. It's not your fault for going into heat" "I don't know what... what to do. It hurts" "It's ok, I'm here. I'm sorry I had to leave you" "N-no. Thank... thank you... but I just messed up your bed" "Eren, I want you listen to me. Can you do that?" "Y-yes" Just the sound of Levi's voice had him slicking even harder. His dick bowed so hard that cum was dribbling against his lower stomach "You do whatever you need to do. Having a heat is not dirty" "I came... in your bed" "And we can rinse the sheets. It's ok" "But..." "I know your heats are weird, but it's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about" "They are" "Eren, I promise I don't find them wrong in any way" "It's dirty" "No it's not. Listen to me. It's not dirty. I promise you. Now, is it like your usual heats?" "N-no... it hurt more" "Ok. What that means is your body wants an alpha there to soothe you" "I don't..." "I know you don't. I know. That's why we're on the phone. The toys you didn't know what to do with, are in my room under the bed" "I..." "Shhh, just listen to me. Using some of those toys will make it hurt less, even though I know you're scared. If you need to use those toys, then use them. I don't want you to suffer" "It's wrong" "Eren, do you really think I would lie to you or try to trick you?" "N-no" "Then listen to me. I'm not going to think you're bad for touching yourself to get through your heat. And I don't care how many toys you need to use to do so. I promise I'm going to care about you all the same amount once your heat has passed" "Really?" "Yeah" "I don't know if I can do this" "You're amazing and you're strong. I know you can do anything and everything you put your mind to. This is your body Eren and your choice. Ok?" "T-thank you" "You're welcome. I want you to message me between your waves of heat and let me know that you're ok" "I... I'll try" "And don't forget to eat and drink lots. Your body burns through a lot of energy while in heat. So promise me you will" "I will" "I'll see you as soon as I can" He tried not to use the toys. His fingers didn't feel right though. Every time he started feeling wrong about it, he forced himself to remember Levi's words. Levi didn't find this dirty or wrong. When the peak of his heat hit, he finally caved. He'd already moved back into Levi's room because it felt safer, so retrieving the box of toys wasn't that much effort. He just didn't know what to do next. There were so many different things, and his omega didn't know what it wanted, only to be full. Finding one with a suction cap, his mind settled on it. He could do this. Levi wanted him to do this. Pushing it onto the wooden floor, he nervously laughed at the "schtuk" sound it made at it stuck. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to do, but he did know what he wanted to do on Levi. He'd seen other dancers giving blowjobs before. The recipients seemed to really enjoy them, even women though he wasn't sure how that worked. Kneeling, he tentatively ran his hand up and down the silicone shaft, trying to imagine doing this to Levi. Curious, he slid his lips over the top, sucking hard on the plastic as his dick throbbed. He'd never thought he'd actually feel like he liked this... or hard from sucking on a plastic dick. Bobbing his head up and down, his right hand gripped his dick, jerking frantically as he tried to take the dildo deeper in his mouth. Coming, he pushed his mouth too far down, gagging as he choked. Ok. That wasn't fun. He didn't like that. Even as his orgasm rolled through him, his stomach still cramped. It wasn't enough. He needed more. His mind hadn't cleared in the slightest. Clumsily he tried to mount the dildo. His slick making it nearly impossible to slide right down as the plastic would slide up his arse crack. He cheeks flamed with embarrassment. If Levi was there, he probably would have died from it. When he finally lined it up, the blunt head didn't feel right. He wanted to scream and escape, but instead he clawed at the tops of his legs, pushing himself to keep sinking down, before dropping. He saw black for a moment. Everything hurt. His arse throbbed at the sudden intrusions, but slowly the throb began to feel more pleasurable. Instead of just pain, he felt full, like his omega wanted. Groaning, he slowly rocked against the dildo. He wasn't supposed to be feeling this good. Closing his eyes, he could almost believe it was Levi inside of him. The scent of the alpha was still strong in the room. Rising and falling, he found a rhythm that made his whole body feel good. His head killed back as he moaned and mewed, fucking himself like his dynamic demanded. Zeke had told him this was wrong, but why did it feel good then? Coming across the floor in a few small pulses, he continued to ride the dildo. Imagining he was putting on a show for his boyfriend. Imagining Levi was telling him how brave he was and now proud he was. This was how he ended up getting through his heat. He only used the one toy, and it didn't fill him the way his omega wanted, like a knot would. But it did take the cramps away and without the cramps being so bad, he could kind of do things. * When Levi came back, Eren was sure he'd fucked himself into some kind of a daze. All he wanted to do was cuddle. His depression not so bad, other than the need to cling. He felt bad that Levi had to clean everything up, though he had done the floors, but his boyfriend had arrived home much faster than he'd expected him to. It wasn't even half an hour between saying his heat he'd finally passed, to Levi walking through the front door. Making sure he ate and drank, Levi then carried him to his bed, probably because the sheets from Levi's were still in the wash, and laid down with him, peppering kisses to his shoulder as the alpha sighed softly to himself "Levi?" "What's up?" "Are you mad?" Levi sighed again, Eren flinching at the soft sound "No, I'm not mad" "Are you sure?" "I'm sure" "Then why do you keep sighing?" "I didn't realise I was" "You are" Levi snorted, his breath tickling the back of Eren's neck "I'm not mad. I was worried, but you came through your heat" "I... touched myself" "How did it feel?" "Really wrong, but it hurt so much, then maybe alright" "And now?" "I don't want to think about it" "Your heat or touching yourself?" "Both... I kept thinking about you" "I missed you too" "I... I'm sorry. Every time I started to get scared, I thought about you" "Then why are you sorry?" "Because it felt wrong" "Eren, it's not wrong to think about your boyfriend" "But I feel like I broke your trust by thinking about you without permission" "Silly brat. You don't need permission. I'm flattered you thought of me" "You're not disgusted?" "No. Would you be mad if I said I thought about you?" "Me?" "Yep. Your heat started a rut" "I'm so sorry" "You don't need to be sorry. We're taking things slow, and I like it" "But ruts are supposed to hurt too" "It was fine. Besides, I knew you were going through the same thing in your own way. All I wanted to do was come home and make sure you were safe" "I'm sorry you had to leave" "You don't need to be sorry. I promised I'd still be here at the of your heat, didn't I? And I came back home" "Are you sure it's ok?" "It's more than ok. It makes me feel proud to know you're safe and here. That I can provide a safe and warm place for your heat to pass" "I spent most of it in your room. Your scent makes me feel so safe" "I'll take that as a compliment. I know you're sleepy, but I didn't get a chance to tell you last week" What hadn't Levi told him? They're texted... so why hadn't Levi told him whatever it was?! Was it bad? Did his alpha not want him anymore?! His scent soured, causing Levi to hush him softly... but he had to know now, his voice shaking "Tell me what?" "It's nothing bad, I promise. You have a therapy appointment tomorrow. I thought after all that happened, that it would be a good idea" "Oh thank fuck. You're an arsehole. I thought you were going to say you wanted to dump me" "No. I'm not dumping you. Not now and not ever if things go the way I want" "You sounded mad then serious" "Then I'm sorry. I also have something else I need to tell you" "What is it?" "I've been approved for leave. Two full weeks, at the start of November" He couldn't remember what month they were in. He was pretty sure it was towards the end of September, but he'd have to check his phone. His heat had thrown his internal body clock off. Someone could tell him it was January and he wouldn't be surprised "Does that mean... mean we can take Zeke?" "Only if you're ready. I'd still like to take you to the ocean" "Are you sure?" "Yeah. Even if you don't find the perfect place for Zeke, I thought we could spend some quality alone time together" "What about Titan?" "Hanji will check in on him. He's got his feeder and his water, so he'll be just fine" "The ocean..." "Yeah... we can get a nice room, and maybe go on a date?" Eren let out something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle "That would be nice" "That's what I thought. I'm going to make you a doctors appointment too" His happiness turned back into confusion "Why?" "Because if I hadn't woken when I did, we might not have been able to seperate in time. I never want to make you feel uncomfortable..." "But the only time we had sex was during my heat. It's probably a smart idea" "Eren, you know I..." "Levi, it's ok. It's more than ok. It shows you really do care for me. You're thinking of my health, for me... you're always thinking of me. It's a good idea. I wanted you so badly, and it was... let's just say, it was hard to hold back" "I thought you might be mad" "No, I'm not. Thank you. Just, I won't take a suppressant" "I don't mind. In fact, I'd prefer you didn't. I like coming home to your smell, and I'm not the best at always reading the mood, so your scent helps me understand. Also, I don't want you to suffer from having your heat messed with" Snuggling back into Levi's hold, his boyfriend threaded their fingers together "Get some sleep brat. I know how tired you are" "Mmm. Tired doesn't even come close. I have sore muscles that I didn't even know existed" "Did you bath?" "Yep. Bathed and showered... I tried to clean up, but I'm sorry if I missed anywhere" "It's alright. I'll take care of it" * Eren's heat had been a mess. It was obvious he'd tried to clean up, he'd just sort of failed in spots. Like the bathroom hamper... from the bundle of towels, Levi seriously doubted Eren had clothes on at any point of his heat. Lifting them out the basket, he hadn't been able to stop himself from growling at the scent of Eren's slick and spent cum... nor had he been able to stop his already aching dick from getting hard again. He'd spent his rut at Erwin's place. A week of absolute misery for him. He'd found Eren's bag of clothes, and pretty much built himself his own nest to get him through his rut. He wanted Eren every single second of it. He wanted to come home, throw Eren onto their bed, bury himself between his legs and never come out again. Only, Eren's heat wasn't his usual one. The only thing usual about it was the lack of change before it. No changes in his scent, until bam! Eren was in heat. His poor boyfriend had been so scared and confused, but hearing he'd finally touched himself was huge. It wasn't just sexy as hell. It meant that Eren was finally opening up to the idea that it wasn't dirty. He'd already found the dildo the omega had used, thanks to dried water stains on the bathroom counter. The long thick toy, pushing him over the edge... unashamedly he jerked off. His dick still tender as fuck from his rut, but when he came into the same towel Eren had, something about it felt right. He didn't understand what his alpha was thinking. This was their boyfriend. Eren would be scared and confused if he found out... but at the same time, he wanted to cover every single spot Eren's heat scent lingered on with his own. The kid had thrown him for a loop, yet again, and while his alpha seemed to get it, this time Levi was just along for the ride. Ever since Eren had come into his life, everything had changed. Not all of it for the better, and some days his alpha was a complete arsehole over it all, but Eren was precious to him like nothing else he'd ever had. Some days it scared him how hard he'd fallen for the omega. He'd had a family before and lost it all. If he lost Eren, he... he'd never recover from that. A thorough clean through of his apartment helped recenter him. No traces of Eren's heat scent remaining once he was done. He wanted to throw the flowers he'd bought Eren out, but they still had a little life and Eren would be disappointed over not getting to enjoy them... even if they were starting to get pollen all over his table, and crunchy bits of leaves. Maybe he wanted them gone more than he'd realised... no. For Eren's sake, they stayed. His boyfriend lived here with him and they were his gift to do with as he chose. Eren came wandering out of their room at lunch time, padding softly across to him before dropping into his lap with a groan "Everything ok?" "Bad dream" "Wanna talk about it?" "No... I wanna listen to you" "To me?" "Yeah... just anything" "What's the first thing you want to do when you get to the ocean?" "Really? You're making me think?" "Is thinking bad?" "Yes. I don't want to think..." "Then what do you want to do today? I've cleaned the apartment, and I'm off work until tomorrow, we're not allowed to work during a rut. So we can order takeout, watch bad movies and cuddle up like this if you want" "That sounds perfect. Levi, please D-don't let me fall asleep" "I make no promises" Eren nibbled on some pizza, but seemed happier with cuddling up. Titan laying on Eren, Eren laying on him. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep, not until Eren shot up, screaming Zeke's name and narrowly smacking into his face in the process. Running from the living room, Eren was soon throwing up his guts in the bathroom. Fucking Zeke. Getting up, he trailed after Eren. His boyfriend crying as he vomited. Kneeling down, he went to hug his omega, but as soon as he touched Eren, Eren reeled back, scrambling away from him "Don't touch me! Don't! I'll be good... don't hurt him anymore! No! Zeke..." With his hands in his hair, Eren started rocking, mumbling Zeke's name over and over. He had no idea what had triggered him. They'd been watching a bad horror movie, but Eren had fallen quiet before there was any actual splatter scenes. He'd made sure it was one he'd seen, with no bondage scenes or murdered parents or siblings... it was probably the wrong movie to be picking while Eren was in his post heat depression "Eren?" "Go away!" "Eren, its Levi. You need to calm down" "Zeke, I need Zeke" Well Zeke was in a box... in a pile of ashes.... with some hair in a draw "Eren, Zeke died. Come on, you need to wake up" "Zeke" It was a miserable half strangled cry "It's alright. You're alright" Instead of crawling into his arms like he usually did, Eren pushed him away, fleeing out the bathroom and into his room. Flushing the vomit away, he followed Eren to his room, to find the door handle locked "Eren?" "Go away" "Are you ok?" "You let me fall asleep" "I didn't realise you were sleeping" "I... just want to be alone" That was great, but what about what he wanted. He wanted to cuddle his boyfriend and his cat, and just enjoy his day off to recover from his rut "Ok. I'll be out here for when you're ready" "I'm sorry" Switching movie to something lighter, his mind wasn't on it. He couldn't figure what had set Eren off so badly. Even running it through his mind, he still came up clueless. He was probably over thinking it all. Eren had had a nightmare before he'd come out to join him on the sofa. He'd flinched when their pizza arrived and had taken a while to settle back against him. If he'd been thinking, he wouldn't have chosen a stupid horror movie, but Eren really seemed to like them. He enjoyed pointing out the mistakes the characters made, just like Levi did with Erwin. He'd thought it would distract Eren from his own thoughts, but it didn't work out that way. Fuck. Trying to be considerate was harder than he'd thought it would be. Even if things came naturally with Eren, when panic attacks happened or the nightmares, his first thought was alway what had he done wrong. How had he set Eren off? He'd never worried about it in that way before, but he had now that they were dating... he felt like any little setback was his fault. He wasn't used to feeling like this. And he hated it. This wasn't him. He knew he wasn't the cause of Eren's "damage". Zeke was... the same Zeke that Eren had wanted over him. As he realised all of this stemmed back to the fact he was jealous of the blonde haired abusive fucker, his mood fell further. Eren was his now. He had no need to be fucking jealous and his alpha could go suck a dick for being such an arsehole.

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richietoaster · 7 years

Note

Head cannon that Richie would go into the medical field because he wants to make sure he can take care of Eddie

WRITTEN BY @tastes-like-cherry-cokeI’m Never Going to Watch You Die.

When Eddie Kaspbrak was 14 years old, the small town of Derry called a weather emergency in late January, the cold was at a recording breaking low and, as usual, the Losers would, at their own pace, be meeting at Big Bills. For them, cancelled school was an automatic term calling for the scattered six to make their way to the Denbrough household. It was an unspoken agreement.

The windows of the town were decorated with pristine white cracks and the road was covered in black ice, the surrounding world was hauntingly beautiful. The snow wasn’t deep but the air had a menacing bite to it that had turned Richie Tozier’s lips a sickening shade of blue that Eddie, suddenly, absolutely loathed. Walking beside the taller boy, curls bouncing in his face as his glasses fogged up, the sudden thought that the next time he’d ever see Richie’s lips that blue is if he were dead slipped into his mind like a fog and struck him to his very core.At first he didn’t feel it, but after a few moments it became clear to him that his chest had tightened, his heart had sped up and he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his closed lungs. The sharp pains flooding through his body caused him to reach out with a gloved hand, almost like a man drowning, and drag Richie down with him as he fell backwards into a pile of soft snow.His ears were ringing and the freckled boy above him was in a panic. His curls were bouncing as he frantically moved his skinny hands along the smaller boys hips in search of the small blue tube filled with antibiotics, Eddie’s peripheral vision had already started to blacken when Richie finally brought the inhaler to Eddie’s white lips. As Eddie laid in the snow, which felt as though it was turning to ice around him, he felt his breath coming back to him, filling his blood and travelling throughout his small body. Above him Richie released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his eyes fluttered shut and his eyebrows knit together. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, his words coming out as white clouds in the air and disappearing forever.

It was two years before Eddie spoke to anyone about that snowy morning. “Did you guys know Richie saved my life?” Eddie had yelled, his breath and thoughts coated in the raspberry coolers Beverly had brought to Richie’s frequently parentless house. There was a chorus of sleepy giggles before Eddie spoke again, “No, seriously,” Eddie said, “I would be dead if Richie hadn’t been there Twice. I would be dead twice without Richie.”

Richie looked at Eddie from across the room, his dark eyes seemed to flash with a familiar fear as he watched the smaller boy from over his drink. “Tell us of your saviour, Eddie!” Beverly cheered from the floor between where Ben and Mike were passing out on the couch, her fiery hair was spread across Mike’s lap and the boy continuously toyed with a ringlet, not quite asleep.

“Christ, Bill,” Stan said, drifting to sleep on the stuttering boys shoulder, “I told you not to let her get those coolers.” “Y-you try and s-stop her n-next t-time.”“Bev,” Eddie said from his place on the couch, “I shit you not, remember that snow storm two years ago?” “Ed’s-”“Beep beep Rich, this is real shit,” Eddie said before moving closer to the red head, “It was so cold that Richie’s lips had turned blue and for a moment I though he was dead. Okay? And that- my heart just stopped, Bev, I swear-”“Ed’s,” Richie tried again. “I was having an asthma attack Bev and I just collapsed. If Richie wasn’t there I would’ve died in minut-”“Eddie,” Richie said louder this time, his cup shattering in his hand as he slammed it down onto the table. “Stop.”The whole room became silent, Bill, Ben and Mike groggily opened their eyes and before anyone could speak Stan got up and pulled Richie to the bathroom by his unbloodied hand. Eddie watched them go, his eyes watering and his lips parted. “That’s his worst fear,” Beverly whispered from between Ben and Mike. Eddie’s eyebrows knit together and before he could ask any questions, Bill spoke. “I-it’s not up t-to us to t-t-tell you, but she’s r-right. He h-had nightm-mares ab-bout that for w-weeks.”In the bathroom, Richie was sitting on the countertop, his face in Stan’s shoulder as tears dropped and left streaks on his already foggy glasses. “Richie,” Stan whispered, running water of the cuts on Richie’s boney hand, “He’s not going to die, you know that.”Richie nodded against Stan’s skin but continued to quietly weep. “You don’t know that,” Richie’s words were quiet, as quiet as Stan had ever heard him.“I do know that,” Stan said, wrapping bandaids around the lanky boys bleeding hand, “I can confidently say that it’s empirically impossible for Eddie Kaspbrak to die as long as your stubborn ass is next to his.”Richie lifted his head when Stan tapped the gauze down and the freckled boy clenched his fist. His tears had stained Stan’s shirt collar but the taller boy didn’t seem to notice, if he did he didn’t acknowledge it. “Thanks, Stan,” Richie said, looking small, “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”“Dead in a ditch is where you’d be without me. Go out there and talk to drunk Eddie.”

Eddie stood in Richie’s room, his hands on opposing elbows and his eyes shifting across the dozens of book’s Richie kept on his shelves. Some were fiction but most had titles that confused Eddie as to why Richie had them on his shelf. Eddie picked up Frank H. Netter’s Atlas of Human Anatomy and flipped through the pages. He held the book close to his chest and his eyes wandered the other titles on the shelves. Anatomy and Physiology in Health and Illness, The Oxford Textbook of Medicine, Advanced First Aid, Pathology of the Lung, Respiratory Injury: Smoke Inhalation and Burns, Respiratory Function in Disease, Anatomy Gr-“I haven’t read them all.”Eddie spun around, Netter’s book still clutched to his chest. His eyes were filled with tears again and his heart was racing in his chest. “Why do you have these?”The air hung heavy, the room was slightly illuminated by a small lamp on Richie’s bedside table, another book resting open, a Polaroid of Bev and Stan holding its page. Richie’s dark eyes averted from Eddie’s and stared at his floor, like the answer to Eddie’s question would be resting along with the laundry piled in the corner. “Rich,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, “Why do you have thes-”“I’m never going to watch you die.” Richie’s voice was strong and his brown eyes were shining. “As long as I am there, you are not going to die. I don’t care if you have the flu, an asthma attack or fucking lymphoma. You’re not going to ever die, not if I can do anything about it. Ed’s I swear to-” Eddie ran forward and wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck, effectively shutting the other boy up while pressing their chests together. Tears were running down both of their cheeks as they held each other and Richie sobbed. “Richie,” Eddie whispered, “I’m not going to die. I’m too stubborn.”A small laugh escaped the taller boy as he held Eddie close. Eddie placed his lips to Richie’s cheek and felt a tear run over his dry lips. Richie’s head turned and Eddie wasted no time in pressing his lips to the freckled boys mouth. Unpractised and surprised at Eddie’s actions, the boys kissed messily and desperate. Without realizing it, this is what they’d been waiting for. This was where they were always meant to end up.

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accountingfortaste · 7 years

Text

The Biggest Logic Hole in the History of Cinema

by Clay Keller

I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Generally speaking, there’s nothing wrong with Clark Johnson’s S.W.A.T. (2003); it’s a relatively diverting LAPD action thriller with a surprisingly solid, “in-their-prime,” cast.* Under different circumstances, producer Neal H. Moritz’s 2 Fast 2 Furious follow-up could be remembered for any number of things. It could be remembered for the cracker jack airplane paintball training sequence, or for LL Cool J’s preposterous abdominal muscles, or perhaps even for Gamble, Jeremy Renner’s emo ex-S.W.A.T. villain, who definitely looks like this:

But that would be under different circumstances. As things are, all of the positive aspects of the fourth of five (!) Colin Farrell movies released in 2003 are overshadowed by the fact that this film contains the single most inexplicable logic hole / paradox in the history of movies.

At this point, you might be saying to yourself, “I don’t remember those parts of the movie that are supposedly ‘overshadowed’ by that other part of the movie that I don’t remember.” And you’d be right, because you don’t care about S.W.A.T., no one does.

But you’re about to.

Part One: The Theme Song

S.W.A.T was not the first time that a television show was adapted into a feature film. In fact, without doing any research, I’d venture to guess that S.W.A.T. isn’t even the second or third time this happened. And when a television show is adapted for the big screen, it is commonplace to include some kind of winking, self aware, moment that lets the audience know that the filmmakers are aware that the story they are telling is derived from a different story that was previously told on a different medium. Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson sharing a scene with the actors who played the original Starsky and Hutch in Starsky and Hutch (2004) comes to mind, or the “does she always look like she’s in slow-motion?” joke from the trailer for Baywatch (2017). There are many more examples, but since those are the only ones that immediately came to mind, they must be the best.

Considering that long, proud tradition, it isn’t unreasonable that the people behind S.W.A.T. wanted to throw in a reference or two to the ol’ TV show. In fact, the fans would expect no less! And the references begin subtly enough, with the famous theme song from the show, originally composed by Barry De Vorzon, woven into the fabric of the score of the film, composed by Elliot Goldenthal. This is great, a nice little nod to the TV show that instantly evokes jaunty 70’s police fun without being too on-the-nose or distracting. Plus, since the characters in movies cannot hear the score music, having the original theme song present there doesn’t create any irreparable tears in the foundational logic of the world of the movie.

So far, so good. But then…

Midway through the movie, after successfully passing the aforementioned airplane paintball trial and officially becoming a S.W.A.T. unit, our heroes go out for a celebratory BBQ dinner. They laugh, drink, ogle Ladies Love Cool James’ abs, listen to a somber speech by Sam Jackson about the unacceptability of dying, and then begin singing the theme song from S.W.A.T. the TV show. All of them. In unison.

At first blush this may not seem like an issue. After all, the S.W.A.T. theme song is simple and catchy. Real-life S.W.A.T. teams probably sing it all the time, like how pilots are constantly humming the Wings theme, and you can’t walk past a fire station without hearing some firefighter jamming out Third Watch on an electric keyboard. The issue comes with the realization that this particular S.W.A.T. team is in a movie directly based on the TV show that this song originates from, sharing their names and characteristics with the characters from said show. If the TV show existed in the world of the movie, and they all know it well enough to spontaneously break out singing the theme, surely by now one or more of them would have had the existential meltdown that comes with noticing that you and your friends have the exact same names as a fictional S.W.A.T. team from a thirty year old television show. Surely.

But maybe not.

While this seems like a fairly egregious oversight, it isn’t completely damning, and, with a little bit of “deleted scene hypothesizing,” can be explained away. Perhaps in the world of S.W.A.T., that catchy theme song did not originate with Mr. De Vorzon and the Aaron Spelling-produced show, which of course couldn’t exist, but rather with our heroes themselves, composed at some point in the course of the narrative and adopted as a personal pump-up jam. As far as I know, such a scene does not exist, but easily could, and would make an excellent addition to one of the films myriad training montages:

For this theory to hold water, one needs to assume that Oscar-nominated composer Marc Shaiman would be friends with Samuel L. Jackson’s Sgt. Dan “Hondo” Harrelson, but Shaiman seems very likable, so I buy it.

Whew, that was close. Clark Johnson, screenwriter David Ayer, and company, almost obliterated the reality of their film for a tossed-off joke, but with a little creative thinking on the part of the audience, the movie can continue on, unabated. All they need to do now is avoid making any more references to…

Part Two: The Actual Goddamn Show

… oh come on.

Mere minutes after the movie’s first flirtation with smashing through the fourth wall like the Kool-Aid Man, we find our heroes enjoying a much-deserved day off.

Sgt. Hondo and Lt. Velasquez (Reg E. Cathy) are putting in some time on the links…

… while Deacon takes his kids shopping…

… TJ (Josh Charles) has a predictably douchey (lunch?) date at a French restaurant…

… Sanchez (Michelle Rodriguez) tests Street’s step-dad potential with a backyard water gun fight…

… and Boxer (Brian Van Holt) shirks his household chores…

… while kicking back on the couch with a lukewarm Dr. Pepper…

… and blithely watching everything he thought he knew about the universe be thrown into utter chaos.

Well, shit. So much for the airtight “personal team theme song composed for them by Oscar-nominated composer Marc Shaiman” theory. This scene confirms it: the TV show S.W.A.T., a spin-off of The Rookies that aired from 1975–1976, exists in the world of the movie. The reason everyone was able to sing the theme song during that scene in the BBQ restaurant is because they are all aware (and presumably fans) of the TV show, S.W.A.T., which, again, exists.

How is it possible, in light of this new information, that every single last goddamn fucking scene in this movie doesn’t play out like so:

It just doesn’t make sense! All things considered, the movie S.W.A.T. should be about regular blue collar cops who, after bearing witness to a glitch in the space-time continuum, slowly lose their minds as they become feverishly obsessed with figuring out how this is possible and if they can fix this broken reality. Not one drug lord should be apprehended from a flaming private jet, not one beach dramatically ran upon by a dripping-wet Colin Farrell. Who has time for that kinda crap in the midst of their psyche slowly cracking into a million pieces? S.W.A.T. should essentially be the same movie as Jake Gyllenhaal’s Enemy, but with significantly more hair gel and leather cuffs; there’s no reason it doesn’t end with every character either dead, in an institution, or facing down a spider the size of a bus.

Part Three: Theories

Honestly, the time for excuses is over. The stretch that was necessary to explain away the theme song gaffe was just barely short enough that I was willing to make it. This, however, is a bridge too far. By including a clip from the actual show, S.W.A.T. earned itself the dubious honor of having The Biggest Logic Hole In The History Of Cinema, full-stop.

However, in blatant defiance of the sentence immediately preceding this one, I am not going to stop, but rather press forward, with a collection of theories that attempt to bring sense to the nonsensical, and fill The Biggest Logic Hole In The History Of Cinema.

Each theory will be followed by points both for, and against.

Theory 1: The characters in the movie all love S.W.A.T. so much that they legally changed their names to those of the characters on the show.

Ok, maybe? But since none of the characters know each other at the beginning of the film, that means they all did this very weird thing independent of each other, and just coincidentally all picked different characters. Then to top it off, they were all recruited for the job that the fictional character that they named themselves after also had, and in the same unit, no less. And then they never spoke about it.

Actually, no. For the one, the probability of that happening is infinitesimal, and for two we know from the movie that Hondo didn’t recruit people based on their names, he recruited them based on their willingness to beat the hell out of suspects, and enjoy “good old fashioned American hot dogs.” Plus, if it was some pro-level “The Secret” shit, they would go on about it non-fucking-stop and they’d be on, like, The Talk, if that’s still a show.

Theory 2: It’s the holodeck, from Star Trek

“Whoa, these theories sure went off the rails quick, didn’t they?” Why yes, they did. The theories went off the rails with a quickness that is in direct proportion to the insanity of the hole.

S.W.A.T. officer Michael Boxer (the grinning layabout we see watching S.W.A.T. on his couch) is actually Lt. Mike Boxer, a security officer on a Galaxy Class starship that isn’t the Enterprise, I don’t know their names, but one of the other ones. Since nothing ever fucking happens out in space (remember, not the Enterprise), Lt. Boxer stares wistfully out at the stars, lost in nostalgic reveres about the good ol’ days of cops and international drug kingpins, until he remembers that there is a holodeck and he can just go and do the damn thing. So, not unlike Capt. Picard and his 40s private eye fantasies, Lt. Boxer wiles away the hours in his program set in 2003 Los Angeles, because really, was there ever a better place and moment in American history?

I’m still thinkin’ no. If this is Boxer’s program, which is assumed because he’s the one who is unequivocally aware of the show, why is he not the lead? Hell, he isn’t even on the poster! Who writes themselves into something as a supporting character who gets shot and has to sit out the entire climax of the story? Unless this is some sort of reverse- Lt. Barclay situation, where in real life Boxer is the cock of the walk and his secret fantasy is to be background bullet fodder… I don’t know. I’ll chalk this one up as a “possible.”

(You: “Wait, the author snarkily implies that, like all cool people, he knows the bare-minimum necessary about Star Trek, but then invokes occasional guest character Lt. Barclay as a reference? Just how much does he actually know about Star Trek: The Next Generation? Is he secretly a big The Talk fan as well?” Me: “Fuck you, that’s how much.”)

Theory 3: Michael Boxer is a bored immortal and/or interdimensional being

This theory is similar to the holodeck theory, but with a less proprietary mythology. Basically, Boxer is an ancient, and possibly interdimensional, being who loved the television show S.W.A.T. so much that he decided his late-20th century game would be organically recreating the program, with real people and real situations. He Marty McFly-ed all of the heroes’ parents (“You know a name I’ve always liked? Hondo...”) then took up some sort of mentorship role during their youths (a teacher, coach, surprisingly wise vagrant, etc) to subtly nudge them in the direction of law enforcement. Boxer has had millennia of practice with human Rube Goldberg puzzles like this, so he’s really fucking good at it and it works like a charm.

“If he was an influential part of their young adulthoods, why doesn’t anyone recognize him as such?” Easy, the mustache. Next.

“Why does he allow himself to be shot at the end of the second act?” Because he needs to take himself out of the situation in order for his little baby birds to fly on their own. Next.

“What about the continued existence of the show? And knowledge of the theme song?” In his capacity as wise vagrant, he indoctrinated his pupils with the idea that television is evil and should be avoided at all costs. As for the song? Welcome back to the game, Clay’s Perfect Marc Shaiman Theory From Earlier!

Holy shit, you guys. I think we did it. We patched the biggest logic hole in the history of cinema. Congrats, Brian Van Holt! Here you’ve been for the last fifteen years thinking you played seventh banana in a moderately successful PG-13 franchise non-starter, when you were actually playing omniscient god-like banana in a moderately successful PG-13 franchise non-starter. I’m glad we were able to do you this service. You can now be at peace.

Part Four: What Come Next?

As you are no doubt already aware, the S.W.A.T. legacy is far from concluded. A new version of the series, from The Shield creator Shawn Ryan and Fast Five director Justin Lin, is premiering this fall on CBS. Oddly, it is an adaptation of both the TV show and the movie, since it incorporates the Chris Sanchez character that was originated by Michelle Rodriguez in the film.

This begs the question, will ageless interdimensional trickster god Michael Boxer also appear in the new series? According to imdb it would seem that he does not show up in the pilot, but that doesn’t mean much. Scripts can be rewritten. Pilots can be re-shot. Just imagine the narrative possibilities of adding a TV-obsessed, all-powerful, immortal character to a gritty LA police / social drama. I’m not saying that it will be better, because that is obvious, and I am not in the habit of redundantly pointing out the obvious.

Do with this information what you will, Shawn Ryan. I know you’ll make the correct choice.

In Conclusion:

youtube

*S.W.A.T. is actually a pretty damn good time. Underrated. Check it out.

#S.W.A.T.#jeremy renner #samuel l jackson #michelle rodriguez #josh charles #ll cool j #brian van holt #david ayer #movies #screenwriting #clark johnson #los angeles #aaron spelling #shawn ryan #colin farrell #clay keller

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officialqfabray-blog · 7 years

Text

Para 🍻 Quick.

Who: Quinn and Puck. What: Chilling/Talking. Where: Puck’s House. When: Friday, May 12th, 2017. Night.

Quinn had this thing going on with Puck and while she knew she shouldn’t be fooling around with a co-star, they weren’t technically co-stars at the moment. The series needed to be picked up before they were officially anything and when that happened, maybe Quinn would reconsider the position. But why mess up a good thing? The sex was great, Puck was a good guy, and it wasn’t anything serious. She wasn’t getting feelings and he didn’t seem to have any either. She liked what they had.

But she didn’t like thinking that he could be with other girls and she didn’t know where they had been. Quinn knew it was an issue and she knew it wasn’t her business, but she found that to be a difficult concept because who Puck slept with besides her, she technically was also sleeping with them. If he got anything from them, she could too. She didn’t like the worry and uncertainty that came with that.

Before parking outside of Puck’s, Quinn stopped to pick up a six pack of some craft beer the clerk recommended. She carried them inside and paused once she was in, trying to determine where Puck was. She locked the door behind herself though because she didn’t want anyone walking in on them.

“Puck?” she asked and waited for an answer.

“In the kitchen,” Puck called back when he heard Quinn walk into his house. He’d gone into the kitchen to get some bottles of water to take into his bedroom so that he was ready for her. It had kind of become his thing since they’d started fucking. He liked having the water nearby. They usually got a couple of rounds in and needed a break. He didn’t know if that would be the case tonight because of her period, but he was gonna have the water just in case.

Quinn headed for the kitchen and smiled when she saw Puck. “Hey,” she greeted him and looked him over before she set the beer down on the counter. “I brought some beer. I haven’t tried it before but the guy at the store said it was good.” She started to rummage through the kitchen drawers to find a bottle opener.

That was one of the many things Puck liked about Quinn. She always brought stuff with her. She was just kind of thoughtful in a way most hook-ups weren’t. He wasn’t into her seriously, but he was definitely into her. It was probably the sex which was hotter than he’d been expecting the first time, and it had just gotten better since. “Thanks, babe. Looks like a good choice.”

There was a smile sent in his direction before she finally found the bottle opener. Quinn popped the cap to one, then another, and brought them both toward Puck. She offered one to him and clinked her bottle against his before taking a drink. Beer wasn’t her favorite choice of alcoholic beverage, but she didn’t mind it. This one was a little strong tasting for her liking but overall, wasn’t bad. She took another sip then hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter for the moment. She took one more sip of her beer then set it down beside her.

Puck had grown to like the taste of beer because it was the only thing he trusted himself to drink because it hadn’t ever made him lose control. At least not without being mixed with something else a lot stronger. Sobriety was a funny thing. He knew most people wouldn’t say he was sober since he smoked weed and drank beer, but it was all about finding what worked for you. He needed some vices to keep from going overboard and beer, weed, and casual sex with one person, not thirty, were all things he could control. He drank down a fourth of his bottle and set it down. “That’s not half-bad.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed and eyed him up again. “Come here,” she said softly. She wanted to touch his abs and she wanted to kiss him because he really turned her on. And she wanted to talk to him and she just wanted him closer for that.

Smirking, Puck sauntered over to where she stood. He stayed still as she ran her fingers over his skin and then leaned in and kissed her softly. She had really great lips, soft and full, and he couldn’t resist running his tongue over her bottom lip before he slipped it into her mouth.

Quinn kind of couldn’t believe how nice Puck’s abs were. She did her fair share of working out and yoga, but this was an entirely different ball game. Her fingertips coasted down and along the band of his sweatpants. The tops of her fingers slipped underneath when Puck pushed his tongue into her mouth. She groaned softly. She had been horny for the last two days and masturbating just didn’t cut it. But she needed to talk to him. “Wait, wait…” she said after she broke the kiss and let out a breath. Her fingers slipped free from him. “I wanted to talk a minute,” she told him and met his eye.

He’d started to harden as her fingers creeped below the waistband of his sweats, but then she was pulling away. He frowned and felt just a little on guard when she said she wanted to talk. It wasn’t something that people said that ended well, but at the same time, she’d said she wanted to come over for sex. So he was just surprised. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

Quinn drew in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I just wanted to apologize for like, all that crap the other day. I felt like it put us in a weird space and I wasn’t trying to do that. And I don’t want to control you or make you feel like you can’t do what you want, you know? It’s just a little hard for me because the last time I was having sex, I was in a relationship and there wasn’t any cheating so I didn’t have to worry about anything because we were only with each other. But with us, I have to trust you, you know? And the choices you make, and not having control, I suppose that has something to do with it too.” She paused and then tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to explain, that that was where I was coming from… so you knew.” She offered up a small smile.

Puck picked up his bottle again and took a long drink while she spoke. He digested the words quietly and then set his bottle down again. “Okay, and I get that, but I think the fact that you’re worried I would put you in danger…That’s not really my style. I wouldn’t fuck you if I didn’t respect you.”

She nodded slightly in response. “No, I know. I wouldn’t have fucked you if I thought you didn’t respect me.” There was a slight pause. “But I just wanted to clear the air. And I don’t think you would put me in danger, like now, I believe you, I mean.” Because Quinn really did believe him. He seemed sincere and she appreciated that.

He took a deep breath and watched her for a moment, trying to think of how to say what it was he wanted to say. “Okay, that is a fair point for sure, but I gotta say, it does kind of seem like we’re exclusive. It’s not like I wanna fuck a different person every week. Been there. Done that. I just also know that this arrangement...if I’m doing this with you and we’re exclusively fucking then...I don’t know. It sounds like a relationship.”

Quinn bit her lip and thought about his words. “Yeah… I get how this seems like that. But I don't think it's a relationship. A relationship is, like, dating and stuff too, hanging out all the time…” There was another pause. “Does it bother you that it seems, to you, like it's a relationship?” She picked up her beer and took another drink.

“No, because if it was a relationship or something, then I’d at least know what it was. Look. I get being afraid of catching something. I’m a recovering addict...drugs...sex...alcohol....I’ve got a lot of fucking demons. Honestly, having casual sex that is exclusively with one person is like me being able to drink this one beer or smoke a bowl or two. It’s the best way to allow me my vices without my going off the deep end. Most people don’t agree with my methods of sobriety, but I know myself. If I were to stop everything and constantly deny myself things...I’d go on a month-long bender. So really, this helps me, but I just don’t get what you get out of this…”

“Well, as long as it doesn't bother you, being sexually exclusive is fine with me,” Quinn told him. “And then you don't have to worry about me getting anything from anyone either. But, like, if you do want to sleep with some random girl here or there, as long as you're safe and sure she's clean, like, I don't care. But if you were planning on hooking up more, with different girls, then I'd just bow out because then you don't need me, you know?” She took a slow drink from her beer now then placed the bottle down.

“I get great sex,” she answered his curiosity and laughed. “I get to be with someone I trust in, like, the sense that you're not going to be telling anyone or spreading shit around about me, you know? Or that there'd be articles about us coming out and that's important to me, that this stays private, and you seemed like the kind of guy that respects that. If the sex is great, I don't need to go looking for another guy then have to put him through the trenches to figure out if I can trust him. Trying to keep my life private has been the hardest thing about this fame stuff. After what happened between me and Mike… I just don't want my life to get fucked again. And I was just hacked too. So I don't see prying eyes dying down anytime soon.”

Puck nodded slowly. He, more than most, knew how scandals rocked a person’s whole world. It was probably worse when you didn't come from that kind of world your whole life. “Yeah, the sex is awesome. That's...yeah, I'm not gonna do that. I'm not looking to call attention to this. I just don't need anyone playing the jealous girlfriend card. I'm gonna flirt with other people and stuff.”

“Woah, no,” Quinn held up a hand defensively. “You can flirt and check out and make out with anyone you want to. I don't care about that. You're not mine and I'm not yours so you can do whatever you want with anyone else. I was just iffy on, you know, casual sex with other girls, that was all, but we seemed to have cleared that up.” She offered a smile and was glad that they were having this conversation. She was also happy that what she was saying was true. She honestly did not care if Puck flirted with anyone else or anything like that. “And, if feelings start to happen, for either of us, or if there's doubts on still wanting to do this arrangement, we agree to say something, yeah?” That way, they could reassess their situation, if that happened.

“Yeah, that's cool. Just let me know if you do catch feelings or something, but we're cool on everything else,” he assured her. He was happy with their arrangement as long as he was having sex on the regular. “So, is there anything else we gotta talk about or no?”

“I don't plan on catching feelings but yeah…” She smirked at him. Quinn thought it was funny he thought she might be the one to catch feelings. That wasn't her thing when she chose someone to only sleep with. Sure, she liked Puck, but not enough to be wanting a relationship from him. She gave a slight shake of her head. “No, I think that's it. I'm all good.”

He picked up his bottle and drained it before smiling at her. “Good. Now, we can get to the sexy part of the evening.” He placed the empty bottle on the counter and took her hand. He'd laid a towel down on his bed because tonight was bound to be messy.

“Yes, the most important part…” She tugged him close, between her legs, and wrapped them around his waist. She kind of wanted him to carry her. “When you put the condom on, I just gotta run to the bathroom quick, but I'm all showered and clean down there, just so you know.” She didn't know if he was the kind of guy to get squirked out about this kind of stuff, but she had showered a few hours ago and then had a tampon in, so she was completely clean at the moment. She let go of his hand and slid her arms around him as she placed some kisses along his jaw.

“Cool,” he said before kissing her back. He helped her down from the counter and then let her into his bedroom. As he watched her head to the bedroom, he wondered if he maybe liked her more than he thought.

#para #para: quick #para: puck #para: 001

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