#tried to go in with him but his dad fucking HATES richie so he went outside to make it easier for eddie. problem is ITs in the fucking house

[allthatdivides2]

my brain telling me to go back to reading reddie fic 24/7 by making me dream about them last night

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Cinderblock Garden - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request that I got, but after talking with the person that requested it, I made a few changes and didn't want to use the request in the fic lmao. It's LONG AS FUCK and I've been working on this for four days now. There's a lot in this, from events in Scream 5, leading to New York stuff.

*to the sweet soul that requested this, I hope things are a little better for you now, and I hope you like this and that it was worth the wait lmao*

This contains SMUT -Minors DNI

Summary: You're the child of Gale and Dewey, and after losing your dad and almost dying yourself, you struggle with day to day life. When you meet Ethan, he just wants you to let him in, but after your ex, Amber, tried to kill you, you struggle to do that.

Contains: Over 10k words, jesus. Angst, mentions of death, mental health struggles, some fluffy smut tbh. Virgin!Ethan and Virgin!Reader -p in v, oral(f recieving).

A/N: In this fic, Ethan is simply Ethan Landry and has no relation to Richie.

When your parents split, you had the option to move to New York with your mom, Gale, or stay in Woodsboro with your dad, Dewey. You decided to stay with your dad because your mom’s main priority was always her career. Even when you’d go out to visit her every now and then, she’d never take any time off, always leaving you alone in her condo. You couldn’t stand her new boyfriend, either. You hated how quickly she could just move on from your dad when he still loved her so much.

You had your doubts about love after watching your parents’ marriage fall apart, until you met Amber. It started off as a friendship, the perfect distraction from your less than perfect home life. Especially when your dad started drinking, she was always there. You realized that you had feelings, she did, too. Everyone else in the friend group was a little surprised by it, but they were all very accepting of it, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy.

When Tara got attacked, your dad wanted to put you on the first plane to New York. Your mom agreed with him, but you refused. You weren’t going to leave your best friend while she recovered, and you really didn’t want to leave Amber.

“Please, this is what’s best for you,” your dad said, pleading with you to get out of Woodsboro. “You’re the child of two people that have been through this several times. If they went after Tara, they’ll probably come after you. I can’t let that happen.”

You sighed, noticing the whisky bottle in his hand. “You put me through so many self defense classes…I think I can handle myself.”

“I was the sheriff, with far more training than you’ve had. I’ve been stabbed several times…you’re not invincible.”

“I’m not saying I am. If I really am a target, don’t you think they’d find me regardless of if I’m in Woodsboro or not?” you questioned, as he took a swig out of the bottle. “I’m safer here with you.”

He sighed, looking over to you. “Fine, but the tracking app on your phone…if you turn it off so I can’t find you, you’re going to New York. If you don’t come straight home after school, you’re going to New York. If you have a run-in with Ghostface-“

“I’m going to New York. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to do anything other than go to school or be here?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to lose you,” he said, his tone stern.

“Okay, but what happens when you’re at the bar getting wasted and I’m here by myself? Isn’t it safer to have people around me?” You didn’t expect your question to come out as harshly as it did, his face wincing as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“No, you’re right. I’ll be home more, I promise,” he said, feeling guilty for making you doubt him. “Just…if you do go out with your friends, please be smart about it. Someone you’re close to is probably a part of this…just remember that. And I meant what I said about the phone tracker.”

You nodded, as he pulled you into a side hug. “Your mom is probably coming out here, just so you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “The boyfriend isn’t coming with her, right?”

“I don’t know. I hope not,” he sighed, the sadness in his voice obvious. “You better get to school.”

Everyone in your friend group was on edge. Tara was alive, but her condition wasn’t great. As you joined your friends at the picnic tables outside, Amber wrapped her arm around you.

“Hey, babe,” she said, “Did you get questioned, too?”

“Yeah, I was interrogated for all of five minutes. I guess that’s the perk of being a former sheriff’s kid,” you said, as Wes looked over to you.

“How is your dad? We haven’t seen him in a while,” he asked, as you shrugged.

“He’s still the same. He tried to convince me to go to New York after what happened last night,” you sighed, as Wes gave you a confused look.

“If you had the chance to get far away from here, why the fuck wouldn’t you take it?” he asked, the paranoia that his mom instilled in him apparent as you just looked at him.

“I’m not leaving Tara…or you guys. It’s better to have more people here if this is going to be another huge thing like it’s been before.”

“Yeah, but is it a safety in numbers thing, or will it just add to the body count if you stay?” Mindy asked, as Chad sighed.

“Seriously? We’re all freaked out enough,” he said, as Wes’ phone dinged in his pocket.

“Hey guys, Tara just woke up.”

When everyone got up to leave, you looked around at your friends, thinking back to what your dad said. You saw them all in such a positive light that you couldn’t even begin to suspect any of them.

Once you made it to the hospital, Tara was so happy to see everyone. Or it could’ve been all the pain meds she was on. You sat down at the foot of her bed as she sleepily smiled.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, starting to tear up as you looked at her.

“I’m okay, still shaken up, though,” she sighed, “They have police protection for me, but you guys need to be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amber said knowingly as Tara smiled.

Then you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years walk into the hospital room, with whom you assumed to be her boyfriend when he called her ‘babe’.

“Hey, this is Richie,” Sam said, introducing him as he awkwardly waved.

He gave you the creeps from the start. You couldn’t shake the thought from your mind that he was guilty of something, but your parents always told you that you needed to be cautious of everyone.

“Hey, can I talk to Sam alone?” Tara asked, as everyone nodded. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course, we’ll be back tomorrow,” you said, standing up to leave.

When you made it out to the hallway, you checked the time and saw a few missed calls from your dad.

“Fuck, I need to get home,” you said, typing a text to him before putting your phone back in your pocket.

“We were going to go have some fun, though,” Amber said, “Is this how it’s going to be? Ghostface comes back and I don’t get to spend time with my girlfriend?”

“You really won’t spend any time with me if I get sent to New York,” you said, as you hopped on the elevator with everyone.

 “This is annoying,” she huffed, “Wes is allowed to go out with us, and you know how his mom is.”

“Hey,” Wes said, “I have a taser and pepper spray, I’m good to go.”

“And I’ve got these hands, but dad doesn’t think that’s good enough,” you laughed, as you made it to the bottom floor. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your dad was a little annoyed when you got home, but he was just happy to know you were safe. As much as he hated your decision to stay in Woodsboro, he thought you were a pretty good judge of character and you always paid close attention to your surroundings.

Things just kept getting crazier. When Wes and Judy were killed, you and your dad ran into Sam at the crime scene. You were making small talk with her, when she nudged her head in the direction behind you.

“Isn’t that your mom?” she asked, as you turned around.

You noticed she had a camera crew with her, as you felt anger start to build up. Your dad went over to talk to her, as she kept peaking around him to look at you.

“Typical. Something happens in Woodsboro and she has to get the fucking story on it,” you said to Sam.

She was about to respond when she noticed the cop that was supposed to be watching Tara’s room standing outside of the Hick’s house.

“Who’s with my sister?” She questioned as he looked at her, confused.

She started to yell, getting your dad’s attention as he ran back over to you, your mom hot on his heels.

“I need to get to Tara,” Sam said, running towards her car.

“I’m coming with you,” you said, following her.

“I don’t think so,” Gale said, “You’re staying here, around people so you’ll be safe.”

You scoffed as you turned to look at her, “So now you decide you want to be a parent?”

She was taken aback at your words, as your dad stepped in. “I’ll go, too. She’ll be safe.”

He hopped in the passenger’s seat as you got in the back, your mom just standing there in shock as the three of you sped off.

“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” Dewey scolded, as he noticed Sam’s high rate of speed. “and you should probably slow down.”

“Tara’s by herself. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Sam snapped, as she turned onto the road that led to the hospital. “Richie’s on his way, I hope someone gets there in time.”

She got out her phone to call Richie, as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was frantic when she realized the call was picked up, but she was terrified once she heard Ghostface’s voice. She stopped the car as she talked, quickly jumping out with you and your dad as you ran inside of the hospital to the elevator to get to Tara’s private floor.

She just kept talking to the killer as you and your dad silently stood beside her. He pulled out his gun, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they did, he fired a shot, the loud bang making you jump. The masked person scurried away, when everyone piled out of the elevator to save Tara and Richie.

“Tara!” you screamed, running up to her. Your dad ran to Richie as you and Sam helped Tara off the floor.

Your best friend was very emotional and shaken up as her sister hugged her, but you were still on edge. You had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

Then, you saw Ghostface charge towards Richie and your dad. You grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and ran towards the figure that was trying to attack your dad. You hit the person over the head, but you felt a sharp, burning pain in your side as you did. Your dad was able to fight back thanks to your distraction, getting in a few shots as Ghostface fell through the glass case against the hallway wall.

“Fuck,” you cried, holding your wound. Your dad’s arms wrapped around you as he walked you towards the elevator, when Richie walked over to help.

“Thanks,” Dewey said, as he walked you inside. “Shit, I didn’t shoot him in the head.”

“Does that really matter right now?” you asked, as he nodded. He stepped back out of the elevator, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, doubled over. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to finish this,” he said, as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Dad, no. You can’t do that!” you cried, as he started to walk down the hall.

“I need to make sure you’re safe. This is how I can do that,” he paused, “I love you.”

As soon as those elevator doors closed, you started screaming, begging to go back to your dad. Sam wouldn’t let that happen. She just kept trying to assure you that he’d be okay, and that you and Tara both needed medical attention.

He wasn’t okay, though. You soon learned what happened to your dad when your mom somberly walked into the hospital room, her sad eyes meeting yours. To say you were emotionally destroyed would’ve been an understatement. You expected your mom to be a little more comforting, and she was trying, but she seemed more interested in getting details on any new leads the detectives might’ve had.

For safety reasons, they moved Tara to the same room as you, making it easier for the police to keep an eye on the both of you.

“She’s really starting to piss me off,” you sighed, as Tara looked over at you. “I’m in here, absolutely fucking devastated, and she’d rather talk to the cops.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to do what she can to keep you safe,” she suggested, “Have you heard from Amber?”

“Yeah, she’s having a party for Wes tonight. Not that you and I will be attending,” you laughed a little, as she smiled.

“Sam wants to get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t know where she wants to go, but she just wants us to be somewhere safe.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…maybe I’ll sneak out of here with you guys,” you said, half-joking as Tara started to nod.

“If your mom’s distracted, and the cops are busy talking to her anyway, we could sneak you out.”

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Your mom walked back in the room, looking back and forth between you and Tara.

“Do what?” she questioned, as you glanced back over to your friend.

“Oh, um, we were talking about college. We’re both going to apply to Blackmore,” you lied, as your mom started to smile.

“Are you warming up to the idea of New York?” she asked, as you shook your head.

“Not at all, but I want my best friend there with me,” you said, a defeated look appearing on her face.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

After the police finished questioning Richie and Sam for the second time of the day, they joined you, your mom, and Tara in the room. Sidney walked in not long after, a sad smile on her face as she saw you in the hospital bed.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, walking over to you, “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks, Sid,” you said softly, “How are the kids?”

She smiled at you, “They’re fine. They’re somewhere safe.”

“I wish I was somewhere safe,” you joked, as your mom rolled her eyes.

“You had the chance to come to New York,” she sighed, “If you would’ve just listened to me and your dad then maybe we wouldn’t be in here right now.”

“What, and dad wouldn’t be dead, too?” you snapped, looking towards her.

“I didn’t say that…this whole ‘you hating me’ thing isn’t going to work. We need to be there for each other.”

You were about to respond when a detective came in to talk to your mom. She stepped out with Sidney, walking to the next hallway over so you wouldn’t hear the conversation.

“Now’s our chance,” Tara said, as Sam looked between you two, confused.

“Chance for what?”

“We’re sneaking her out with us,” Tara said, wincing as she pulled her IV out.

“What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t been discharged yet,” Sam sighed, looking over to see you doing the same. “I’m not kidnapping you, I’m sorry.”

“Look, we want to be somewhere safe. She isn’t going to be safe if she stays here and we go. Her mom’s barely paid attention to her since we’ve been in here…if you want me to go, she’s going too,” Tara said, as Sam sighed, looking over to Richie. He shrugged, walking over to the door to peak out.

“No cops, no Gale,” he said, as Sam rolled her eyes.

“Fuck it, fine. You both better hurry up though.”

You did as Sam said, the both of you quickly changing before sneaking past the nurses’ station towards the exit.

After your mom and Sidney finished talking to a detective in the next hall over, she came back to see your bed empty. She started to panic, noticing your IV line resting on top of the bed and most of your stuff gone. She looked over to the other side of the room, realizing that Tara was gone, too.

“Excuse me, where did they take my daughter?” Gale asked one of the nurses that’d passed by the doorway.

He grabbed an iPad off the nurse’s station, trying to pull you up. “She doesn’t have any testing or anything scheduled…she’s not in her room?” He craned his neck to peak around, noticing the empty bed.

“She’s a minor, isn’t there some kind of alert you guys have for this?!” She yelled, as the nurse nodded.

“I’ll take care of that right away.”

It didn’t matter, though. You’d already made it out of the hospital by the time the code was called.

“Where do you think she went?” Sydney asked, as your mom tried to rack her brain.

“I’m not the mom of the year, okay? I barely know her anymore,” she sighed, as Sidney sympathetically smiled at her.

“Whatever happened, now that Dewey’s gone, you’re going to have to fix that relationship,” she said, as your mom nodded. “She’s a good kid.”

“I know, I just hope she’s okay.”

When you were in the back seat with Tara, her asthma was flaring up as she tried to find her inhaler.

“Fuck, I don’t have it,” she panicked, as Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Can you wait until we’re in the next town?” she asked, as Richie glanced back to see Tara’s breathing getting worse.

“No…this is getting bad,” you said, trying to search Tara’s purse again. “Do you still have the spare one at Ambers?”

“Yeah, Sam, we need to go to Amber’s,” Tara said, as Sam shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said, her lack of understanding for how bad the situation was starting to piss you off.

“She’s going to be dead by the time we get to the next fucking town. Go to Amber’s,” you yelled, as Sam hesitantly nodded. “Turn left up here.”

As your mom and Sidney searched around the hospital hoping to find you, she remembered the app Dewey put on your phone so he’d always know where you were. He gave her the log-in too just in case she ever needed it. She quickly pulled her phone out, checking to see what your location was as Sidney looked at her.

“She’s not even here,” Gale said, as she and Sidney bolted towards the exit.

Once they made it in the car and started to drive, your mom was looking at the tracking app, noticing that you’d stopped.

“Turner Lane, why does that sound so familiar?” she asked, as Sidney’s eyes grew wide.

“Please don’t tell me that’s where she is,” Sidney said, pressing the gas a little harder, “Stu Macher used to live on Turner Lane.”

“Oh fuck,” Gale said, as she tried to call you.

Your phone was on silent in your pocket as you went up to Amber’s room. The party downstairs was in full swing as you tried to help your girlfriend search for Tara’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you sighed, thinking about him as you dug through a box on top of Amber’s dresser. “Found it!” you held up the inhaler as she smiled.

“Can you please call me when you make it to wherever you’re going so I know you’re safe, please?” she asked, as she stepped towards you.

“Yeah, I just need to get the fuck away from my mom for a few days.”

She nodded in understanding as you ran out of her room, down the stairs to find Tara.

“Stupid bitch,” Amber muttered, once she knew you couldn’t hear her.

After you gave Tara her inhaler, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to see twenty missed calls from your mom.

“Jesus, someone’s freaking out,” you said, showing Tara the screen.

“Maybe you should call her back. Just let her know you’re okay.”

“Fine,” you sighed, but before you had the chance to call her, she was calling you again.

You answered, “Hey mom, I’m fine-“

“You need to get the fuck out of that house right now!” she yelled, the second she heard your voice.

“How do you know where I am?” you questioned, annoyance in your tone as she started to yell again.

“You’re in Stu Macher’s house,” your heart started to race as you looked over to Sam, Tara, and Richie. You’d heard that name many times before. You started to look around, thinking about how the party at his house was the finale of the first Woodsboro Massacre where your dad was stabbed.

“We need to get out of here, right now,” you said to them, as Richie started to smirk.

“Did someone finally figure it out?” he asked, the psychotic excitement in his voice making your skin crawl.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, jumping as you heard a gunshot coming from the living room, accompanied by several screams. “What the fuck is going on?”

Sam and Tara started to back away from Richie as you looked at him.

“God, you know, you guys really are the perfect victims. Serial killer dad,” he said, looking to Sam, “oblivious little sister,” he said to Tara, before turning to you, “and the child of the sheriff that tried to take down Billy and Stu. It’s hilarious. You get to die where he should’ve.”

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, as he started to step towards you.

“You want to know what the best part of this whole little fucked up scenario is, though?” he asked, as Amber walked into the room. “I’ve been fucking your girlfriend.” Sam glanced over to you, the obvious look of disgust and betrayal painted on both of your faces.

Your mouth dropped as you looked over to Amber. “Sorry, baby,” she said, so nonchalantly that your blood was starting to boil. You shook your head as you thought back to your dad telling you that you probably knew who was responsible for everything.

“Did you kill my dad?” you asked Amber as she shrugged, muttering “Maybe,” as you stepped towards her.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Richie said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at you as Sam and Tara started to back away, looking at you. You nodded towards the side door as Amber walked up to kiss Richie.

While they were distracted, you glanced along the counters to see if there was anything you could use that would be helpful. You saw the knife block, and as the rage started to build up even more towards Amber for stabbing you and killing your dad.

You subtly grabbed a knife from behind you, and started to step towards them as you held it firmly in your hand behind your back.

“Where did the other two go?” Amber asked, pulling away from Richie as he turned around to look.

“I’ll go find them,” he said, waving his knife around. “Don’t try anything. She doesn’t love you enough to save you.”

As soon as he walked away, you looked at Amber. “Is that true? You don’t love me enough to save me?”

“I never fucking loved you. God, I only wanted to get close to you and your friends. It amazes me how stupid you are,” she scoffed, as you stepped even closer, “What are you going to do? I was stronger than your dad, you dumb bitch. Do you really think you’re going to win in a fight against me?”

“I don’t need to be stronger than you,” you smiled, “Because you’re the one that doesn’t have a knife right now.”

As soon as you pulled the knife from behind your back, she darted towards the gun on the kitchen island. You were quicker though, stabbing her before she was able to grab it. She dropped to her knees as she held her stomach. In that moment, she looked weak and helpless. You couldn’t shake the thought that she had your dad feeling that way when she killed him.

“Baby, why would you do that?” she asked, her psychotic eyes pleading with yours.

You looked down at her, the fury in your eyes obvious as she tried to plead with you.

“How the fuck could you do this to me? To my fucking dad?!”

“Oh, please. You knew he was a shitty dad,” she scoffed, before whining again at the pain she was feeling. “I got him good, too. I just wish you could’ve seen it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you screamed, as you stabbed her again.

 Richie ran back in the room with Tara and Sam, noticing Amber on the floor and the large, bloody knife in your hand. You started to run towards him, thinking you could finish all of this. You didn’t though, because as soon as you made it to Richie, he plunged his knife into your stomach several times.

“No!” Tara screamed, as you dropped to the floor, blood immediately pooling beside you on the floor. You heard Tara’s cries as your vision started to get fuzzy.

“You really thought you were going to do something with that, didn’t you?” Richie laughed, “I’m sure your mom will be here soon, and you’ll get to be with both of your parents after I’m finished with her. Now’s a good time to thank me.”

“Fuck you,” you said weakly, as you started to lose consciousness.

“Oh, look at all that blood,” was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

You woke up in the hospital several days later with your mom and Sidney sitting beside your bed. You groaned as your eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.

“Hey,” your mom said, “They weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“Lights,” you choked out, your voice raw.

“Try not to talk a lot, okay?” Sidney said, as she got up to flip the switch. “You almost didn’t pull through. They had to intubate you for surgery.”

You laid there in silence for a few minutes, like your brain was trying to process everything that happened. The heart rate monitor started to beep faster as you thought about your dad and the rest of your friends. Your breathing got heavier, as you started to shake your tingling hands.

Your mom went out to grab a nurse, who rushed in to check on you.

“Let’s give you something to help you calm down,” she said, pulling out a syringe. She injected medication into your IV as you tried to take deep breaths in comparison to the shallow ones you kept sucking in.

“What’s going on?” your mom asked, as the nurse turned to look at her.

“She’s having a panic attack. It’s normal after trauma like what she went through,” she said, before turning to you, “Would you like some water?”

You nodded, as she stepped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with your water and one of the doctors.

“We’re going to suggest lots of therapy,” the doctor said, as she looked over at your dazed expression from the meds. “Physical and mental. It’s going to be a long road, just be patient with her.”

“I’m going to take her back to New York with me. If you have any recommendations for doctors out there, I’d appreciate it,” Your mom said, as the doctor nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

As you sipped the water, it started to soothe your dry, irritated throat. After the doctor walked back in with the list of doctors in New York, you tried to speak.

“Tara?” you got out, as your mom smiled.

“She’s okay. Sam is too.”

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re okay. Chad was a little touch and go at first, too. He’s in the next room over,” she said, as you started to smile.

You were devastated about your dad and Wes but knowing that most of your friends survived gave you an ounce of hope that everything would be okay.

Once you’d healed enough to leave the hospital, you had a tearful goodbye with everyone as you prepared to go to New York.

“I hope you were serious about Blackmore…we all kind of applied,” Tara said, as Mindy nodded.

“Seriously? That would be so cool,” you said, smiling. “I’d love to have you guys close by.”

Your mom stood by and watched as Sam walked up to talk to her.

“I know Tara will most likely get in, she’s a smart one,” Sam said, with a small laugh. “If you can think of any safe areas for us to live, let me know.”

“You’d be coming with her?” your mom asked, as Sam nodded.

“I’m never letting her out of my sight,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, with Dewey. If it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the attack at the hospital.”

“Thank you…I’m just sad he won’t get to see all the great things I know she’s going to do with her life.”

After a few months of living in New York, you started to get adjusted. You had physical therapy three times a week and had to see your psychiatrist at least once a week, but you felt like you were starting to find yourself again, aside from struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Your mom’s boyfriend, Brooks, was even starting to piss you off a little less. You’d had several conversations with him about your dad, and he was trying to step up. He didn’t want to take your dad’s place by any means, but he was trying so hard to be a trusted male figure in your life, aside from Chad, who was still on the opposite side of the country.

On your eighteenth birthday, Tara FaceTimed you. You were smiling so big when you saw all of your friends, their own version of a surprise party making your heart swell. That’s the day they told you they all got into Blackmore, and you started to count down the days.

“Mom, don’t you think I should get the full college experience?” you sighed, as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not staying in a dorm, and that’s final,” she said, as you glanced over to Brooks.

“I can’t help you with this one. You know your mom has her mind made up,” he said, as he leaned against the kitchen island.

“Whatever,” you huffed, walking towards your room.

Your mom and Brooks just looked at each other as she sighed in defeat.

“She might be annoyed with you right now, but she’ll get over it,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

“I hope so, I’m getting sick of all the teen angst,” she said, laughing a little.

“How’s her therapy been?”

“She said it’s going well. They’ve really been unpacking the Amber stuff…I just hope she’s able to trust someone again someday.”

“She will.”

Once your friends made it to New York, your mom let you go out and explore the city for the first time without her. She was nervous, regularly checking her phone just to make sure you were okay. She knew your therapy sessions were helping, but you still had your panic attacks and your body wasn’t the strongest yet.

As you walked along the sidewalk with your friends, Chad noticed a comic book store a little further up the street.

“Can we check that out?” he asked, as you nodded.

“This is the same dorky shit you did in Woodsboro. Don’t you want to do something else?” Mindy asked, as her brother scoffed.

“Nope. I’ve already gone into three different clothing stores with you guys AND found my perfect foundation match while you guys were shopping for makeup. You owe me,” he said, making you and Tara laugh.

“Fine, let’s go,” Tara said, before turning to look at you. “Let me know whenever you need to sit down, okay?”

“I will. Let’s get food after this. I can rest while we eat,” you said, as Tara nodded.

When you walked inside, you all went your separate ways as you started to browse around the store. Chad was in heaven, while everyone else was just there to kill the time. As you were walking along one of the rows, you started to get one of your reoccurring abdominal cramps from where you were stabbed. You leaned over, holding your stomach as you tried to breathe through it.

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a male voice speaking to you, as you groaned out a “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said softly, as he squatted to talk to you. “Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”

“I promise I’m okay. Just a bad cramp.”

You soon heard Tara mumble “Oh shit” as she and Mindy ran up to you.

“What happened?” Mindy asked, looking over to the boy.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I just saw her doubled over like this.”

The pain started to ease up, as you tried to stand back up.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” you sighed, as your eyes connected to the person that was trying to help you.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking you over. You couldn’t form words after you saw him. He was your type, and his sweet, shy demeanor was just a plus. Mindy and Tara noticed you checking him out as he kept staring at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Hey,” you finally spoke, as Tara and Mindy inched away from you so you could talk to him. “Thanks for trying to help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, as he started to flip through some of the comic books. “Do you go to Blackmore?”

“I’m about to,” you said, as he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re a freshman, too?”

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I have all my hometown friends with me, so I know it’ll be fun,” you said, as you started to point them out.

“Chad? That’s what my roommate’s name is,” he said, looking towards him. “Wait, that’s him!”

“Oh, small world,” you said, “Hey, Chad!”

He turned around, smiling when he noticed his new roommate standing there.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were into stuff like this!” Chad said, as he walked up.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a dork, I guess,” Ethan laughed, as they started to geek out over stuff they’d found.

“How do you two know each other?” Chad asked curiously, as Ethan smiled.

“I just met her. She seems cool,” he said, “Have you guys been friends for a long time?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. We grew up in this crazy, fucked up little town,” Chad said, as your eyes got wide.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, trying to play it off as Chad looked at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, Woodsboro was a walk in the park,” Chad said sarcastically, as you tried to change the subject.

“Can we go get food soon? I’m starving,” you said, as Chad nodded.

“Sure. Ethan, you want to go to lunch with us?”

“I wish I could, but I have to run by the book store. Maybe some other time, but I’ll see you later,” he said to Chad, before smiling at you. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“I hope so,” you said, your tone flirty as Chad looked between the two of you.

Ethan walked up to the counter to pay for his stuff, as Chad turned to you.

“What was that all about?” he asked, as you jokingly glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot roommate?!”

After that day, Chad made it his personal mission to get to know Ethan as well as he could, because he didn’t want you to go through another traumatic relationship. Once he realized that Ethan truly was this shy, dorky guy, he started to bring him around the friend group. The two of you immediately hit it off, and he loved to spend time with you.

Once the relationship started to get a little more serious, he began asking about Woodsboro. After that day at the comic book store, he did his research, but he still had so many questions. He knew you were hurt in some way, because of all the appointments you had, and the random sharp cramps you’d get from time to time. He noticed that you’d always try to push through pain, and he just wanted to have a better understanding of everything.

The last thing you wanted to do was think about what’d happened the year before, let alone talk about it. You had several insecurities about yourself, the scars all over your abdomen being one of the major ones. But you hated feeling weak. You hated that you were struggling to keep up with the high energy your friends and boyfriend had. You hated feeling like you just slowed everyone down.

Ethan didn’t care, though. He was always comforting and okay with taking breaks, or even cutting a date night short if you started to get anxious. He knew he loved you, but he was too shy to say it. He didn’t want to pour his heart out and you say it’s something you weren’t ready for yet.

Your mom was a little skeptical of Ethan. It wasn’t that he’d given her a reason to be, she just wanted you to always be cautious, especially after your last relationship. It got to the point where you’d have to sneak Ethan over whenever your mom and Brooks weren’t home.

“Hey, baby,” Ethan said, as you opened the front door.

“Hi,” you smiled, as he leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s go to my room.”

What was supposed to be the two of you just hanging out led to him on top of you on your bed, your hands in his hair as he kissed you. Your shirt was starting to inch up, his hand roaming over your stomach when you pushed him away.

“Stop,” you said, once you noticed him leaning back down to kiss you again.

“What did I do?” he asked, as you scooted away from him. “Baby, I don’t want to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want you touching me like that,” you said, your eyes not meeting his as he tried to understand.

“You’re my girlfriend…this is what people in relationships do,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “If you’re not ready for sex, that’s fine. I just don’t get what the big deal is with me touching you. You never talk to me about it.”

“I think you should go,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, standing up. “You just keep shutting down whenever there’s something we need to talk about. You’re so secretive about what you’ve been through. I feel like I barely know anything about you.”

“Are you saying you want to break up?” you asked, your eyes watering as he shook his head.

“No, babe. I care about you so much…but you don’t trust me. I know something horrible happened to you in Woodsboro, and all I want is to be the supportive boyfriend that you deserve, but I can’t be that for you when you won’t talk to me. I’ve even tried to ask Chad, just so I understand, but he’ll only talk about what happened to him.”

“So, you’ve been trying to get stuff out of Chad because I won’t tell you about it?” you questioned, the pissed expression on your face making him tense up. “I’m not ready to talk to you!”

“Call me when you are,” he said, walking towards your bedroom door.

You felt a panic attack creeping up the second he walked out. You grabbed your anxiety medication and took a pill out, hoping that it would kick in soon. Your hands were shaky as you tried to take it, the water you were trying to drink spilling all over your shirt.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your breathing heavy as you jumped up to grab another shirt to change into.

The second you got the wet one off, Ethan walked back in the room.

“I forgot my phone,” he mumbled, before he saw you. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scars all over your abdomen, feeling sick to his stomach that someone could ever do something like that to you. “Baby…”

“Get the fuck out!” you screamed, as he scrambled to grab his phone off your bedside table. “Now, Ethan! Go!”

You quickly pulled the dry shirt over your head, as he glanced back over to you once more. You were sobbing as he tried to step closer, wanting to comfort you.

“Don’t come near me, Ethan! Go!” you yelled again, as he hesitantly turned around and walked out.

You followed him to the front door, slamming it behind him. You put your back against the door before sliding down it, as you pulled your knees to your chest as you cried.

When your mom got home later in the day to take you to your psychiatrist, you didn’t feel like going. You were still upset from the situation with Ethan earlier in the day, so once she started to argue with you that you needed to go, it got explosive.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been making such good progress!” your mom yelled, as you started to pace the floor.

“What’s wrong with me?! I was almost killed, mom! I have these fucking scars all over me that remind me of what I went through every fucking day!” you screamed, as tears started to run down your cheeks. “I have a great boyfriend, someone who really cares about me, and I can’t fucking trust him because of what Amber did to me! Then, he saw my scars earlier and looked at me like I was a fucking victim and I’m sick of feeling that way!”

“Wait, how did he see your scars? What have you been doing when I’m not here?” she questioned, as you stopped your pacing.

“That’s what you took from all that I just said?!” You asked, as Brooks walked in. “I’m not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to, though! I want to be able to trust Ethan enough to do that, but I’m too fucked up for that to happen!”

Your mom just looked at you as Brooks tried to calm you down.

“Hey, I know this is none of my business, and I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong…but have you talked to your therapist about Ethan?”

“Not really. He’s only come up a few times,” you sighed, wiping your tears. “I was hoping I could work through things with him on my own, but I still haven’t told him anything that happened. He’s trying so hard, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“That kid really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about the best way to open up to him,” he said, as you nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like everyone that comes in your life is going to do what Amber did to you.”

Your mom smiled at the interaction, loving how close you were getting to him. His calm demeanor helped so much in diffusing your anxiety.

“Can we still make it to my appointment in time? Or is it too late?” you asked your mom, as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

“We can still make it, we need to leave right now, though.”

“You two get out of here, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back,” Brooks said, pulling you into a side hug as he walked you towards the door.

During your appointment, your doctor recommended that you take a week off from school, just to focus on your mental health. Your professors were very understanding, you just hoped your boyfriend would be, too. You needed to clear your head as you tried to think of the best way to unpack all the trauma with him. You decided to leave your phone off, only turning it on every now and then to let Tara know you were okay.

Ethan was freaking out. When all his calls went straight to voicemail, and you stopped coming to school, he started to think the worst. He knew that you were upset with him, and he felt awful that him seeing you without a shirt affected you as much as he did. Regardless of the scars, he still thought you were beautiful. He finally brought it up to the rest of the friend group and was relieved when Tara said that you were okay.

That’s when he thought about doing something sweet for you. He wanted you to feel better, and he desperately wanted you to forgive him. He went to the mall with Chad, wanting to find some of your favorite things to bring to you.

“What about this?” Chad said, as he walked with Ethan through the party store. Ethan wanted to find you the sweetest card to go with the things he’d bought you, but Chad had other ideas when he pointed to a huge balloon. Ethan rolled his eyes as he looked over to Chad. “What? I don’t think anything says ‘I love you’ like a massive balloon that literally says ‘I love you’.”

“Dude, I don’t want this to be cheesy. I want her to know how I feel without making her cringe,” Ethan said, “Do you think she’ll even answer the door when I try to take this stuff to her?”

“I can’t say for sure. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week.”

“At lease she talks to Tara, so we know she’s alright.”

Ethan was nervous as he walked into the elevator and selected the floor that your mom’s condo was on. He knew your mom and her boyfriend’s work schedule from the times you’d invited him over, so he knew you should be home alone, if you’d even open the door for him.

He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before knocking. After a few minutes of you not answering, he sat the stuff outside of the door, hoping you’d want to talk after you eventually saw it. He went back to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting for it to come back to the floor he was currently on.

Once the door opened, he saw you standing there.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?” you asked, as he stepped to the side for you to walk off the elevator.

“Oh, uh, I just dropped some stuff off for you. It’s in front of the door,” he said shyly, as you smiled at him.

“That’s really sweet, Ethan. I was actually going to call you and ask if you wanted to come over. I just left therapy, and I’m in a good head space right now. I think I’m ready to talk,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s a little heavy, and I might not go too far into detail, but I want you to know some of what I went through.”

“I’m here to listen,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand as you walked towards the door.

“Aww, this is so cute!” you squealed, looking down at the basket before you unlocked the door. You were about to bend down to grab it before he beat you to it. “Thanks, babe.”

You walked with him to your room, noticing the card. You grabbed it out of the basket as soon as he sat it down, but he took it from you before you could open it.

“Hey!” you laughed, trying to take it back from him.

“This card has some things in it that are important, but not as important as you telling me what you need to tell me,” he said, smiling as he sat it back in the basket. “You can read this after we talk, deal?”

“Deal,” you said, flopping back on your bed as he laid down beside you.

You both stared at the ceiling as he waited for you to start talking, but you didn’t know where you wanted to start. You were almost scared of what he’d think after you told him everything, but you knew in your heart that he’d still care about you regardless.

“So…I know I told you about my dad dying. He was killed last year when my ex and the guy she was cheating on me with went on a killing spree,” you said, as he sat up on his elbows to look at you as you spoke. “She killed my dad after she stabbed me. Her boyfriend really did the most damage to me though. I’ve been really self-conscious about all the scars I have. That’s why I stop you whenever things start to get a little handsy.”

He stayed silent for a minute, just soaking in all the information you’d told him. He was furious that anyone would ever hurt you, but he was hiding it well.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been a little hesitant to trust me,” he sighed, looking back at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really thought you were done with me after you yelled at me like that and didn’t want to talk to me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I just wanted to get my feelings and my thoughts together. I knew I needed to open up to you, especially after you saw everything.”

“I just wanted to understand, you know? You’ve just been so vague about everything. I’m happy you’re opening up,” he said, laying back down. “I’m sorry if you ever felt pressure about the sex stuff, too. I promise you that’s not what I was trying to do, and I’d wait forever if I needed to.”

“I don’t think we need to wait forever,” you said, rolling over to your side to look at him. “I’m ready now, actually.”

He curiously looked at you, before he started to shake his head.

“Baby, I want you to fully trust me before we do anything like that.”

“I just gave you the short version of everything that caused my trauma. I trust you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed you back, the sweetness of it making your heart swell, like you knew he was the person you were meant to lose your virginity to. Once the kiss got more intense and your hand started to run under his shirt, he gently pushed your hand away.

“Wait, I need you to read the card,” he said, before you connected your lips to his again.

“Right now?” you asked, pulling away.

“Please. You’ll want to read it before we do this.”

You slid off the side of the bed and walked over to the basket and grabbed the card. Ethan wasn’t nervous at all as you sat down beside him and opened the envelope that contained his true feelings for you. He knew if you were ready for sex and felt comfortable enough to finally tell him about what you’d went through, that you probably felt the same way he did.

“This is really sweet,” you said, reading through everything he wrote. “Wait…”

You turned to look at him after you’d made it to the end of what he wrote, as he smiled at you.

“I love you, babe.”

“Seriously?” was all you said, your eyes starting to water as Ethan suddenly felt like maybe it was a little too soon for him to say it when you didn’t say it back.

“Yeah, it’s how I feel. If you aren’t ready for that-“

You cut him off my kissing him. “I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pushed you back on the bed as he smiled down at you.

“You are sure, like one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked, as his hand started to rub your thigh over your jeans.

“I’m positive. I want to do this with you.”

He leaned down to kiss you as his hands just kept rubbing against you. You didn’t feel self-conscious like you had before, and you were excited to share this experience with someone that loved you.

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off of you?” he asked, waiting for you to consent before he did it. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.

You paused and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The second your shirt was over your head, you noticed Ethan’s gaze on all your scars. You tried to cover them with your hands before he pulled them away.

“Stop, baby. You’re beautiful,” he said, running his hands across them.

He leaned down to start kissing your neck, his curls tickling you as you started to giggle.

“Am I absolutely awful at this or something?” he asked, as your fingers started to run through his hair.

“No babe, you’re tickling me, but it feels good,” you said, squirming a little underneath him once he found your sweet spot. “It really feels good.” He smirked against you as you started to let out heavy breaths. “I think your shirt should come off, too.”

He pulled away to take his shirt off before he leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands started to run along his back as he melted into your touch.

You leaned up a little as you felt his hands try to snake around you to unhook your bra. He fumbled with it for a minute, making you laugh into the kiss.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said, jokingly glaring at you as you smiled at him. He finally got it unhooked, sliding the straps down your arms as he pulled it off you. “Are you going to laugh at me the whole time?”

“No, babe,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hold in your giggles. You didn’t have to for long though, your mouth falling open as you gasped when he took one of your nipples into your mouth. He alternated between licking and sucking, before he moved to the other side. “That feels so good.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, “If you want to stop at any point, let me know. I’m not going to get mad, I just want you to be okay.”

“Thank you, baby. I know you won’t hurt me,” you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair as his eyes fluttered at the feeling.

He leaned down again with your fingers still tangled in his hair, as he started to place kisses along your stomach. He paid extra attention to your scars, now knowing the dark story of how you got them. You looked down at him as he started to unbutton your jeans.

“I love you, baby.” He said, as he started to pull them down your hips. “Your body is so beautiful. Please don’t ever think that it’s not, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed, as his hands started to run up your bare thighs.

“Can these come off?” he asked, rubbing your panties along your hips.

“Yes,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You know I have no idea what I’m doing, so please let me know if anything I do hurts.”

“Ethan,” you sighed, as his eyes connected with yours. “Just do what you think feels right, and I’ll let you know how it feels.”

“Okay, baby,” he said, as his hand ran up your inner thigh, and over your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling, as he kept rubbing you. “Can I taste you, babe?”

“Please,” you said, as he leaned in. His tongue gently licked your clit, as your hand started to run through your hair. “That feels…fuck.”

His mouth started to move faster when your moans got a little louder, loving all the sounds he was pulling from you. His cock was straining against his jeans, but that was the last thing he wanted to focus on. He just wanted to keep making you feel good.

“Can you use your fingers, too?” you asked, your chest heaving as his finger started to brush against your entrance. You gasped when he slid it inside of you, pumping it in and out.

He pulled his mouth away to watch you, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You whimpered at his words as his fingers started to curve a little. “Oh shit,” you whined, as he slowed his fingers.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to ready your face, scared that he’d hurt you.

“That felt good, keep doing that,” you said, gasping as his finger moved quicker. “You can use two.”

He added another finger and moved them against that spot as he leaned down to focus on your clit with his mouth.

“Fuck, a little faster, baby,” you moaned, feeling that coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter.

He did as you said, before he switched from licking your clit to sucking on it.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, your legs starting to jolt. He gasped as your pussy started to contract around his fingers. He didn’t want to stop his actions too quickly, so he just kept going until you started to pull away. You were letting out shaky breaths as he sat up to look at you, the blissful expression on your face making him smile.

“Did that feel good?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded with your eyes closed.

“That was perfect, babe.”

He curled up on the bed beside you, caressing everywhere he could reach as he waited for you to tell him it was okay to go further. He noticed the gasp that slipped past your lips when his hand ran over one of your breasts, so he started to massage it.

“Baby, I’m not trying to rush you, but my mom will be home soon,” you said, smiling at him. “I really don’t want this to get interrupted.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, sliding off the side of the bed to take his jeans off. You giggled at him as he smiled at you. “Sorry, I’ve been hard for so long.”

“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re so excited,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m excited to experience this with the person that means the world to me,” he said, as he grabbed a condom out of his wallet before he slid his boxers down. He was mumbling something to you, but you couldn’t focus as you stared at him, starting to get a little anxious. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, as you shook your head. “I was just reminding you that if it’s too much, let me know.”

As he stood in front of you, you started to question if it would be too much. He opened the condom and rolled it on before he crawled back on the bed to hover over you.

“Can you go slow?” you asked, as he lined up with your entrance.

“Of course, baby. As slow as you want,” he assured you, as he started to push himself inside of you. He noticed you wincing at the pain, and even tensing up a little. He stilled, looking over your face. “Try to relax, baby.”

He didn’t move, he just waited for you to give him the okay. He leaned down to kiss you, as the pain started to ease.

“Keep going,” you said, as he slid in a little further. You tensed up again, so he just kept kissing you. He wanted you to know that this wasn’t just about him enjoying the experience. He wanted to take care of you. It was starting to get to the point where the pressure of him stretching you started to feel really good. “Can you move?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Uh, I’m almost all the way in…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, as your lust-filled eyes looked into his.

“It’s not really hurting anymore,” you said, as he started to smile. He slid the rest of himself inside of you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. His hips slowly started to move as he looked down at you. He was internally screaming but was trying to play it as cool as you were. “Can you go a little faster?”

“Yes,” he said, but it really came out as a whimper as he started to move a little faster. You were just so warm and tight. It was better than he ever thought it would be. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” you moaned, as the tip of his cock started to hit the spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, Ethan,” you whimpered, as your hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whined out, as he started to go even faster. He didn’t know if it was going to be too much for you to handle, but the way you started to moan helped ease the anxiety he had about it.

“I love you, too,” you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm creeping up.

He started to get even more confident, angling your legs so he was able to go a little deeper. Your hands held on to his biceps as he looked down at you. He was trying so hard not cum, but the expressions on your face and the sounds you were making made it a lot harder for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, as he sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to hold back much longer. He groaned out the second your walls started to tighten around him, your hands shaking as the grip you had on his arms got tighter. He got you though it, speeding up a little as he chased his own orgasm.

His thrusts started to falter as his mouth fell open and his eyes began to flutter. You watched him though your post-orgasm haze, smiling as he opened his eyes to look at you. His chest was heaving, a goofy smile on his lips.

“That was a million times better than my hand,” he joked, making you laugh.

“It better be,” you said playfully, as you heard the front door open. “Shit.”

You and Ethan both jumped off your bed, your legs wobbly as you tried to find your clothes. You slid your panties back on as Ethan got his boxers and jeans back on. The second you got your shirt over your head, your bedroom door opened.

“Hey, there’s some people out here to see you,” your mom said, looking down at her phone as she walked into your room.

“Uh, mom,” you said, as she looked up at you.

“What the fuck is going on here?” she asked, noticing you without pants, Ethan shirtless, and the condom wrapper on your bedside table.

“Can we talk about this in a minute?” you asked, desperate for her to leave the room so you could finish getting dressed.

She huffed as she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once you got your jeans back on, you heard your mom yell “I’ll kill him,” as Ethan looked over to you, terrified. You giggled as he slid his shirt over his head.

“It’s okay, babe. Hopefully Brooks will back me up,” you joked, as the both of you walked towards the door.

Your mom walking in was embarrassing enough, but when you walked out to see all the friends you hadn’t seen for a week sitting on the couch curiously looking at you and Ethan, your cheeks started to turn red.

“Oh, uh, hey guys. What are you doing here?” you asked, as Mindy pointed to the take-out bags on the kitchen island.

“Yeah, we wanted to surprise you and bring you food,” Chad said, before directing hit attention to Ethan. “I tried to text you a few times to invite you to come with us, but I understand why you didn’t respond.”

Ethan awkwardly laughed, before he noticed your mom glaring at him from the kitchen.

“Babe,” Brooks said, walking up beside her. “It’s okay.”

“You think me coming home to see my daughter and her boyfriend trying to put their clothes back on is okay?”

Mindy was trying to hold in her laughter, Chad was, too.

“Can’t we all just be happy that I trust Ethan, and finally told him everything?” you said, trying to play it off as a joke as your mom rolled her eyes.

“That’s a good point,” Brooks said, “That’s something she wasn’t able to do before.”

“Are you just going to back her up on everything?” your mom sighed, looking up at him.

“I just want you to see the positives,” he said, before gesturing over to Ethan. “He’s a good kid. He cares about her.”

 “I really do,” Ethan said, finally speaking up.

“See? I know you’re still going to worry about her, but let her be happy,” Brooks said, as your mom started to walk over to you.

“You are going on birth control. And you,” she said, turning to Ethan, “If you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Ethan said, as she stared him down.

“You better not. Let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”

[miley1442111]

memory fails- c.berzatto

a/n: this is lowkey saddddd but wtv. this was intended for fem!reader but it's only mentioned once so feel free to imagine what you like :) also I fucking love Monk.

summary: there's no way carmy forgot such an important date, right? You'd better go down to the restaurant and check.

pairings: carmenberzatto x reader, platonic!syndeyadamu x reader

warnings: breaking up, parental loss, failing relationship, mean carmy, brief mention of sex, mentions of feeling used in a relationship, smoking.

Everything was too loud. His head hurt, his body ached and all he fucking wanted was to be at home, with you. He stepped outside the noisy kitchen and lit a cigarette, a habit he knew you hated but he just couldn’t take this anymore. Why did I leave my bed this morning? He asked himself again and again.

This morning, you were beside him, arms wrapped around his neck as he lazily kissed a trail up your neck, electing small giggles from your drowsy state. Today was meant to be his day off, but fucking Nat called him in for a meeting with Cicerio, a meeting that didn’t even happen. So now, here he was standing outside his own restaurant, the last place he wanted to be right then. He had spent the day practicing fucking timing in the kitchen. The sun was setting, he knew he’d missed the day with you. He knew you’d be upset. Never mad, always just upset, or frustrated. Just never fucking mad. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you mad. He brought the cigarette to his lips again as he smiled at the image of you that morning, one that will be burnt into his brain forever. 

“Cousin! Your girl’s here!” Richie shouted from inside and Carmen’s daydream was shattered. He exhaled the remaining smoke and off he went, back inside where he saw you, arms crossed against your chest, looking guarded and upset. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as he pulled you into his office for some privacy. Richie, Tina and Sydney gave him stern looks. 

“You remember what today is, right?” You asked him, a slight wobble in your voice. He scoured his brain for a few seconds and that was all you needed. “You don’t.” 

“Sunshine, I’m sorry I-”

“Carm, if you don’t have time for this relationship anymore then what are we doing?” you sigh, sitting on the small black couch in the corner. “I’m sick of feeling like I don’t matter.”

“Sunshine, what? You matter more than anyone, more than anything! Wh-where is this coming from?” 

“It’s my dad’s anniversary. You didn’t show up. Sydney showed up, Nat showed up, Tina showed up, hell, even fucking Cicero showed up! And my own boyfriend didn’t? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You were getting mad. For the first time ever he was seeing you get mad. His heart broke. He had made you mad. He made his sunshine mad. “I just wanted 45 minutes of your time to visit his grave!” That’s why it was just him and Ritchie in the restaurant earlier.

“Fuck…” He sighed out. 

“Yeah Carmen, ‘fuck’! At this point, I’m kind of ready to break up Carmen! If this is how important to you I am, then maybe we’re fucking done!” You shouted, the entire restaurant and kitchen could hear you, thank god there were no customers but fuck, how could he miss such an important date? 

His face dropped. You couldn’t actually mean that, right?

“Sunshine please-”

“No Carmen. I come second to fucking everything in your life! Today was the day you promised to be there for me! It’s not fucking fair.”

“Sunshine, you know that work is important,” he tried to reason and when he looked up he knew he had made a grave mistake. 

“More important than me? More important than my dad’s fucking one-anniversary? More important than being there for me?” you challenged. 

“Yes! Sometimes, yes! Not everything is always about you!” He shouted, and trust him, he knew he shouldn’t have. What he really wanted was to apologise and spend the next few days making it up to you. But he didn’t. He just dug himself a deeper hole. “Fuck’s sake- sunshine, just drop it!”

Had he had the emotional strength to look up, he would’ve seen the hurt evident in your face. He would’ve noticed the way your eyes glazed and how you started shaking. 

“Fuck you.” You practically whispered. “Fuck your restaurant and fuck this shit. I have to at least allow myself some fucking self-respect Carmen! You don’t get to treat me like this anymore! We’re done.” You turn on your heel, walking out of the restaurant as Sydney follows after you, and Richie starts giving Carmen hell. 

“Yo, that seemed pretty heated back there-” She started saying, trying to catch up to you. 

“Please Syd, just… leave me alone,” you sighed, leaning against the wall outside the restaurant. 

“I’m sure this is just… like he’s just being a dick-”

“He forgot the one thing I needed him to remember. The only fucking thing I asked him to remember. I never care when he misses my birthday, any and all family things, fucking date nights. I never care. I’m always understanding. But I’m so done. I’m done with this feeling- I-I’m just… I feel like I’m the only one who cares, y’know? Like I’m the only one who ever puts any fucking effort into our relationship, a-and when he finally does, it’s like he’s expecting a fucking medal for just… being a boyfriend. And I understand that he’s struggling, but there’s only so much comforting and support I can give before I feel like I’m being used. I am being used Syd. All he does is come home and he's either crying or manic, or mad, so I comfort him, and then he asks if he can fuck me, and of fucking course I say yes, because he’s looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. And then he turns over and falls asleep, and I’m fucking alone again. I’m struggling too! My dad died! My…” You trailed off as Sydney pulled you into a comforting hug. “I fucking hate myself for staying with him, just hoping he’d be better,” you explain as sobs wrack your body. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you.

“He’s an asshole, and I think we both know you’re better without him, but I get this is hard too. How about we go back to yours and watch some Monk? It was your dads favourite, right?” She offered, a kind smile on her lips. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled through your tears. 

“I’ll go grab my stuff, be back in a minute,” she smiled and walked back inside the building, leaving you with your thoughts. 

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

“I-is she ok?” Carmen’s eyes were on Sydney as she walked back inside the building. 

“Fuck you Carmen,” Ritchie sighed, as Sydney started grabbing her things from her locker, ignoring his question. “You don’t deserve to know if she’s ok!”

“You didn’t go either!” Carmen pointed out.

“Yeah, cause I went with her to the grave yesterday, y’know, since I have my fucking job today?!” 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Look, I’m heading out, night,” Sydney mumbled out as she slung her bag over her shoulder, walking swiftly towards the door. 

“Wait! Just… a-are we broken up then?” Carmen asked, terrified of the answer. The restaurant stilled. 

“Yes,” all of them answered, Tina’s voice the loudest. It was unanimous. You were gone from his life. Carmen stalked into his office and slammed the door, a loud “Fuck!” could be heard, as well as things falling to the floor. 

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

Sydney walked back out to you and grabbed your arm, whisking you away from The Bear and to her couch, binge watching episodes of Monk with her and her dad, popcorn and beer in your hands until you inevitably fell asleep on her floor.

Carmen didn’t sleep that night. He just kept thinking about you that morning, the small smile in the darkness. Your soft skin against his lips and hands. Your lips against his. Your kind eyes. Your sing-song voice. Your sweet smell. Your perfect smile. Your determination and unbreakable spirit. You. 

He had a lot to make up for, but how?

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

Complicated

pairing: tara carpenter x gn!bailey!reader

summary: you have to choose between avenging your older brother and the love of your life, so your father decides tara is your target.

warnings: gore, blood, wayne being a shitty dad,, mentions of murder, richie being mentioned, favoritism, trauma(?), angst, etc…

Anika was dead. You were beside your father as her bashed head is covered up. You, being the middle Bailey child. Oldest being your fucking brother, Richie.

God, you hated him. Favoritism really got in his head at some points. Your Mother truly loved all of you equally but for some reason, Your father favored Richie, his first son, a “special bond” as he put it.

You only agreed to his plan to avenge Richie to please him. Ethan on the other hand? He enjoyed killing and wasn’t coerced or forced into it.

Placing his arms your shoulders, Ethan said, smiling,"Y/N. This will be some family bonding. " "May I remind you you killed Mom? You mumbled.

You could never forgive your father and brother. Unlike your sister, who didn't mind. "Y/n, come on, Your Father insisted. You sigh. "fine, some family bonding."

You were kind of glad Richie died. But of course, everything went downhill, your father focusing on revenge. You pulled down your mask, knife in hnd.

You wouldn't consider yourself psycho, quite decent. You didn't enjoy killing, you were forced to. Only decent Kirsch in your family besides your mom.

You did kill some dumb, big breasted blondes, cliché horror movie characters, but still, you did feel sorry. "See? You look good in blood, Quinn complimented.

You fake smile. "You three did good, Your Father said.”Now, in order to get the Carpenters, specifically Sam, you have targets. Quinn, You’ll get Mindy. Ethan, Anika, And Y/N, I can tell you like her, Tara. The second important part of this.”

You didn’t want to hurt Tara. you loved her so much.

And she loved you. “Why? You whine. “Like I said, You like her, Bailey said.”Tara won’t suspect a thing.” You sigh, giving in. Pleasing your father is all you had wanted.

Validation seemed rare in your family. That only Richie seemed to be able to achieve. Of course he had a good life. While you were a middle child, and not a Stab Fanatic like he had been.

It was a few days later that you strike. Tara was all alone in her apartment, since Sam and the others were doing something.

While you didn’t want to do this, It felt good to know she’d go to you for comfort. That was the part you were looking forward to.

“Hello? She said. Using the voice changer you say,”Hello Tara. ready to be gutted like a fish?”

“Fuck no, Tara replied, hanging up and you chase her, eventually catching up and pinning her down. You raise the knife, unsure if you could when do this.

Though, the stab you made to Tara made you realize that you shouldn’t have tried to please your father because you fucked up, really bad.

“Tara.. I’m sorry…. you say. “What? Tara said, groaning when you stab her again. But not deep enough to kill her.

She cries as she holds her arms over her bleeding wound. “I don’t want to kill you! you insist. Weakly, Tara takes off your mask with her free arm.

“Y/N? Tara said, weakly. “I’m sorry… You say. “How could you? Tara sobbed. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to do this, My father is making me, you whisper.”This will be over soon, I promise.”

The fact that your trauma was probably the reason why you even felt like getting validation, you didn’t have to say yes.

But still, he was your father. You hoped your mind you’d be better than Richie at something. And in a way you were.

“Still, why did you do this? Tara asked, close to passing out. “It’s complicated, Tara, You say, kissing her lips, just as her eyes closed.

You didn’t murder her, luckily. Your father knew you couldn’t decide between the love of your life and avenging Richie. So he had to do this painful choice for you.

You’d never forget her. And hopefully she wouldn’t hate you when she wakes up.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds. 

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + accidental fake dating | part two |

Usually, Eddie hated sleeping in. He liked to get in a morning run before heading off to work. But something about being in L.A with his best friend, rather than New York with his ex-wife, and the fact he was currently on leave from work thanks to a killer clown claw, he figured he was owed an extra hour or two. He stretched and yawned, opening his eyes to find a post-it note stuck to his forehead. Rolling his eyes, Eddie removed the message from his head, reading it fondly.

hey, bud. gone to get breakfast. relax, take it easy. I’ll be back soon. rx

He smiled affectionately and carefully climbed out of bed, wincing from the effort. He and Richie had been living together ever since they’d Derry, once Eddie had resolved to divorce his wife and get on with his life. Richie had suggested they live together through his recovery and Eddie had been so relieved that he wasn’t going to be on his own, he agreed. Things were great. Richie was a better roommate than he’d expected. He helped Eddie with his physical therapy, make sure he took his (genuine) medication and generally took care of him. Eddie felt like he was getting his life back and it was all thanks to the best friend he was hopelessly in love with. But that was a whole other problem he wasn’t ready to deal with.

Eddie was showered and fully dressed when his phone rang. He smiled already, thinking of Richie. He was more than a little surprised to see it was Maggie Tozier calling. They’d only met once since they’d returned from Derry and Eddie hadn’t really been in a fit state for visitors back then. Still, he answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Tozier.”

Of course, Maggie laughed softly, “Eddie, dear, we’re practically family. Call me Maggie.”

“Sorry. Old habits,” he eased himself into Richie’s comfortable La-Z-Boy - which was more his at the moment since it was the only thing he could handle right now. He tried not to sound pained as he asked, “how’s Went?”

“Oh, his hip’s playing up, poor thing,” Maggie said casually, “he’s been working on that damn car again. He’s only got himself to blame. But enough about us, how are you? Is Richie looking after you?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, Richie’s been amazing,” he smiled, absent mindedly stroking his t-shirt, underneath which was his healing wound, “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Maggie scoffed and Eddie could almost hear her eyes rolling, “that man adores you, Eddie. I thought he was going to burst when he told us you were moving in together, he was so happy,” Eddie paused, a slight frown on his face but he didn't say anything. Maggie didn’t seem to notice as she giggled, “now that you’re together, I guess I can tell you Richie always had a thing for you when you were kids. I can;t tell you the number of times...”

Maggie’s voice grew faint as Eddie’s mind wandered, deep in thought. It was clear she assumed that he and Richie were dating and had been for a little while. And Richie hadn’t corrected her. He was vaguely aware that Maggie had finished talking; Eddie swallowed, his throat dry.

“Huh?”

“All I’m saying is I’m just glad you two finally sorted things out. You’re perfect for each other. Anyone can see that,“ Maggie sounded so happy that her beloved son had finally found happiness, it broke Eddie’s heart that he wasn’t Richie’s actual real-life boyfriend. He wanted to be the one to make him that happy. But he wasn’t and he wasn’t about to burst Maggie’s bubble, either, so he kept his mouth shut. That was until she said, “so is Saturday okay?”

“Uh...for what?”

Maggie chuckled, “well, we figured we’d come and visit you two. Save you the journey, dear. They’ll be plenty of family gatherings at our place when you’re strong enough.”

Overwhelmed with emotion, Eddie found himself speaking before thinking, “thanks, Mom.”

"Oh, Eddie, darling don’t make me cry, I’ve just done my make up,” Maggie, too, sounded emotional but she was better at hiding it than Eddie, “we’ll see you at the weekend. Take care. Give Richie my best, tell him I’ll call him later.”

“Will do. See you soon.”

He hung up, staring at his phone. He barely had time to take in the large amount of information he’d just received as Richie barged in through the door, carrying four shopping bags in one hand and two takeaway coffees in the other.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called playfully, winking when he caught sight of Eddie reclining in his chair. Eddie rolled his eyes and reached for the lever so he could stand. Richie waved him off, “you stay put, Eds. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

“Why, thank you, dear,” he emphasised the final word, expecting Richie to take the hint. Instead, the other man just bowed, blowing him a kiss as he began to unload bags of takeaway breakfast. Eddie shook his head fondly, “I spoke with Maggie just now.”

“Yeah? Lemme guess, Dad’s hip, something about that bitch Paula from the knitting circle and some supportive but misunderstood stuff about my new stand up?” Eddie chuckled as Richie put on his best Maggie Voice (which just sounded like The Old Lady), “’Richard, what’s a Netflix and where can I watch it?’“

Eddie took his coffee and portion of french toast and fresh fruit from Richie, suddenly realising how hungry he was, “actually, she mainly talked about us,” he watched carefully as Richie slowly finished dishing up his own, less healthy, breakfast. Eddie tucked into his own, avoiding looking directly at Richie, “she thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Richie didn’t quite know what to say. He didn’t want his mother meddling in his love life, especially with the best friend he was stupidly in love with. He stopped stuffing his face long enough to say, “she’s been on about it for ages. I didn’t think she’d still be on that shit.”

"You didn’t correct her,” Eddie pointed out nonchalantly, watching Richie curiously. He lifted his head, blinking repeatedly at Eddie.

"You didn’t correct her.”

They continued staring at each other for the longest time, neither one daring to break the tension. It was out there now. Neither had corrected Maggie’s misunderstanding and now she was visiting under the assumption they were a couple. Eddie finally broke the awkward silence.

“I don’t want to lie to her.”

Richie almost choked on his coffee, “what, you want to be boyfriends?”

Rather than laugh at him, like Richie had expected, Eddie just shrugged, chasing a stray blueberry on his plate, “why not? It’s just for the weekend. After that, we can tell Maggie we decided we were better as friends or something. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Okay, if you’re sure you can resist all this,” Richie gestured at himself, grinning lecherously. Eddie laughed, easing himself to stand so he could put his plate in the dishwasher. He returned to Richie and, leaning forward as much as he was capable, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, whispering into his ear.

“I’ve had thirty years practice.”

It took a while for Richie’s brain to catch up with what had just happened. When he opened his eyes, Eddie had gone, probably off to his bedroom to get changed for swim. Richie shook his head, leaping up and following after his friend, “yo, Eds, what the fuck does that mean?”

[urmomsmainbitch]

american idiot - chapter one

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

word count: 2.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She couldn't be too different, could she?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-- -- --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I start my training," Richie responded immediately.

"Training for what?"

"Street Fighter."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derry is two small for the two of us.

[musical-broken-heart]

Mental Breakdowns and Hair Cuts

Ships: Henry/Patrick side Reddie and Stenbrough

Age: Bowers=16 Losers=13

TW: Slurs, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Mental Breakdowns, Abuse

Clenching his fists he fell to the floor sobbing. Holding himself he curled up next to the bathtub slowly his hands found his hair and he tried pulling it out of his scalp. 

He needed to die! All he did was hurt people but he couldn't help himself. He needed to get his anger out and he didn't want to talk about it nor did he want to hurt his friends the only people who cared about him. 

The past few weeks he had the same nightmare of Patrick going into the sewer and being eaten alive by a monster made of fear itself. That same monster possessed him in his dreams and made him kill Oscar and his friends. He hated his father but he would never think of killing him. He may have been abusive but he was all Henry had after his mother just left. He normally woke up screaming drenched in sweat the vivid image of his friends in the car their necks slit their blood on his hands and Patrick decaying next to him still haunting him. 

He was weak. He was a faggot. He needed to die! Death scared him. Thats why he never cut deep. Thats why he mended his own wounds before he could bleed out. Standing up he looked in the mirror seeing his bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face. Grabbing the scissors he started cutting off his mullet. Once he cleaned his new hair cut to look like a professional had done it he looked in the mirror again hoping to see someone new only finding a broken boy staring back at him. 

"Henry get up! Get your ass to school!" Oscar yelled. Henry didn't think twice before putting the sweater on and throwing the hood over his head. Running out of the house he walked to Vic's house as normal both waiting for Belch to come to get them. 

"I remember watching you cut the hoods off all your sweaters," Victor said not moving his eyes from Henry and the black sweater. "That sweater looks a few sizes too big for you are you sure it's yours?" he asked his blond hair falling over his eye. "Why do you care? I found it in my roo- house!" Henry growled. Victor was a smart kid who could figure anything out if given enough time. 

"It's Patricks isn't it?" he asked causing Henry to go red. "Yea he left it at my house I was cold and all my sweaters are cut up so I just borrowed his jacket! Shut up!" Victor smiled and hummed nodding his head. "He may be a sociopath but once he realizes that's his jacket he's gonna get a boner." Vic laughed as Henry started coughing. "Why the fuck would you say that?!" Henry asked leaning over trying to get a breath. 

"Get in assholes!" Patrick yelled as Belch drove up. "Where'd you get the jacket?" Belch asked getting the middle finger from Henry. Victor giggled and leaned over whispering like a little girl at a sleepover. Belch smiled and smirked at Henry who blushed harder. Thankfully Patrick ignored the situation. But Belch had to say something. "Hey, Pat what happened to your jacket?" Henry glared at him. "I think I left it at Henry's," Patrick said not bothering to look at his friend. Henry sighed and slouched down in relief. 

Patrick looked over realizing Henry was wearing the jacket. It was too big for him causing him to look like a child. Patrick blushed and started to laugh so Victor wouldn't notice. "You look like a drug dealer in my jacket Puppy!" Henry rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Whatever Hockstetter!" 

Pulling into school the four walked only for Henry to get pulled aside by a teacher. "No hoods in school Henry!" 

Groaning Henry took the hood down but refused to meet anyone eyes. "Whoa, your old man finally get sick of the mullet?" Victor joked pulling his friend close patting his back. "Shut up!" Henry growled pushing his friend away. "Hey, Bowers finally cut that fucking mullet? About time!" Richie shouted getting Eddie to shush him. "Shut up faggot! You should really listen to your faggot friends and keep that stupid mouth shut!" Henry yelled. Stan stepped forward and pulled his friend back. "What's your problem asshole?!" Henry chuckled and grabbed Bill. "Your faggot boyfriend and his stupid stutter is my problem! Along with all your faces!" he said pushing Bill ontop of Stan. 

Belch and Vic chuckled ready to grab one of the Losers but Henry stopped them going to their lockers. "Where'd Patrick go?'' he asked leaning against his locker. "Don't know he rushed off when you took the hood off. Said he had some school work." Belch said getting Henry and Vic to look at him. "What? OH!" he said realizing what he said. "I'm gonna go look for him," Henry mumbled starting to walk away. 

Looking around the hallway someone covered his mouth and pulled him into the bathroom. "Why did you do it? Do you like to torture me Puppy?" Henry sighed and shook the boy off him. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he hissed. Patrick grabbed Henry's wrist and pulled him close curling his fingers under the smaller boys chin lifting his face up. With his other arm, he wrapped it securely around Henry's waist keeping him close. "Don't you seeHoney? I love you!" he whispered bringing their lips together. Henry's eyes widened and tried to pull away but only ended up being pushed against the wall with no hope of escape. 

Patrick slowly pulled away and arm still wrapped around Henry to other on the wall next to Henry's head. "Patrick get off of me." Henry tried to yell but ended up sounding defeated. Patrick smiled and started attacking the boy's neck causing him to moan. "You look so hot with short hair," Patrick said starting to run his hand under the sweater causing the leader to squirm and whimper. "Patrick! Stop! You-you, don't know what love is! You're fucking psychotic!" Henry growled once again trying to push his friend off him. 

Patrick pulled away looking hurt grabbing Henry's wrists and pinning them above his head. "I'm not a psychopath! I'm a high functioning sociopath. Honey, you should know this." Henry shivered and tried to move his legs but Patrick caught on and pressed his knees against the boy's legs. "I know enough about love to know that the first time I saw you standing with Victor under that pine tree and my heart tried to leave my chest I would die for you. Kill for you!" Patrick whispered in Henry's ear. 

Henry bit his lip and looked at the floor. "Pat. You might know what love is but I don't." Patrick sighed and brought his lips to Henry's again this time he stopped. "I don't want to rush you Puppy," he said softly. Henry smiled and connected their lips this time the kiss was sweet and soft. "Should I grow out a mullet?" Henry asked. "Don't! You look like a sweetheart with short hair. You also look really hot in my sweater!" Patrick said getting a chuckle from Henry. "Thanks for forgetting it, Pine Tree. My dad would have killed me. Probably wouldn't compare to last night." Henry said going for another kiss but Patrick pulled away. 

"What do you mean compare to last night?" Henry realized his mistake and laughed. "D-did I say that? I meant um. Compare to the abuse some kids get definitely not me?" Henry said quickly. Patrick growled and pulled away from Henry who pulled him back kissing him. "Honey I have to go kill your father. I can't have someone hurting you." Patrick said between kisses. Henry moaned into the kiss his arms around Patrick's neck. "Pat! I can't have him die!" Henry said as Patrick slowly grabbed his legs lifting him up. "Why not Honey? He's hurting you." Patrick said. 

"I've had dreams," Henry whispered as Patrick moved to his neck again leaving marks. "Tell me about them," Patrick said. Henry moaned in delight his head falling back. "You die. By a creature made out of fear. It possesses me a-and I kill Vic and Belch and my old man." Henry said. Patrick stopped kissing the boy and held him closely. "Puppy look at me. It's okay. I'm not dead I'm right here." Patrick said holding Henry closely as the leader shook. "You alright honey?" he asked lifting the boys head. 

"Pat. What are we?" Henry asked looking to the side. "If you want we could be boyfriends?" Patrick said getting a small nod from Henry. "God I love you!" Patrick said starting to kiss the boy again. Running his hands on his waist he slowly moved down to his thighs getting a small yelp from Henry. "You started cutting again," Patrick said. "I-I never stopped. It helps me get passed, my dads beatings." Henry whimpered. "Puppy promise me you'll stop." 

Henry nodded and kissed Patrick again. "Pine Tree I have to get to class!" Henry said pulling away. Patrick grabbed him and wrapped his arms around the boy. "I have to go, darling!" Henry whined kissing him. "Miss one day of classes for me!" Patrick said getting a sigh from the boy. "I can get Belch's keys to the car." Henry groaned. 

Patricks POV

A few weeks ago I left my sweater at Henry's. I knew it was in his living room so I went over while his father was out to find the house empty. Walking into Henry's room I found him sleeping and not wanting him to wake up finding me staring at him I looked in his closet quickly. Sighing I turned back to the bed finding his arms wrapped around a blanket. Chuckling I went to leave before looking back seeing it was my jacket I forgot. Blushing I turned around and quickly left. 

Getting outside I stood on the porch and ran my hands through my hair. Goddamnit, he was hot! I went home but I couldn't get him out of my mind. Groaning I fell onto my bed burying my face in my pillow. Maybe if I try hard enough I can convince my parents to move. 

The next few weeks went by and Henry wore my sweater. It was too big for him causing him to look like a drug dealer. "Whatever Hockstetter!" he growled his face red. Turning my focus back to the window I smiled. 

A teacher told him to take off the hood and I didn't think twice about it. Glancing at him I quickly looked at him again. He no longer had a mullet and damnit he was hot! "Uh I-I think I have s-some school work to um to work on." I stammered out to Belch only getting a nod from him as Henry started yelling at Richie and the other Losers. 

Quickly walking to the bathroom and leaned against the sink looking in the mirror. My face was a bright shade of red and my eyes dilated. Groaning shook my head trying to get Herny off my mind. He hates fags and finding out his friend was gay for him! 

I walked out and saw him looking for me. Grabbing him I pulled him into the bathroom. I don't know what came over me but I confessed. I kissed him! He didn't get mad. "Patrick stop! You-You, don't know what love is! Your fucking psychotic!" he said. I stopped and looked at him. It hurt hearing him say that. Shaking my head he was wrong! I might have been crazy but I still knew that I loved him. I saw tears in his eyes but I couldn't tell if he was sad angry or happy. "You might know what love is. But I don't," he said softly looking to the side. 

I don't want to rush him. He's gone through a lot. He smiled softly and kissed me. Starting to make out he chuckled thanking me for leaving the jacket. I knew about his father being cruel but I thought he had stopped the abuse. "I'm going to kill him!" I growled out loud. Henry's eyes widened and he shook his head. "N-no! I need him! You can't kill him!" he said quickly surprising me. I nodded and held him close. "Please Pat!" he said tears starting to roll down his face. 

Dreams. He explained how he had nightmares about me dying. A monster eating me in the seers then making him a puppet killing the others. Kissing him I went to lift his legs and he let out a painful groan. "Puppy you started cutting again?" he shook his head. "I-I never stopped," he said looking ashamed. Trying to get to class I stopped him. "Skip one day. For me?" I said kissing his neck. "I can try and get the car keys from Belch." 

In the car, he sat on top of me kissing my bare chest while I kept my arms tightly wrapped around his naked torso running my fingers through his now short hair. "You like to bite don't you puppy?" he rolled his eyes and started for my neck leaving more marks. "Mmm stop moving so much!" he mumbled starting to kiss my lips. 

Getting a tighter grip on him I like his lips asking for him to open which he did instantly letting me have dominance. "Something wrong Puppy?" I asked. "Just tired," he replied kissing me again. I hummed in response exploring his mouth again with my tongue. Moaning into the kiss I sat up causing him to almost fall off the seat. 

"You two better not have had sex in my car!" we heard someone say. Breaking from the kiss Henry whined in protest and glared at Belch who just laughed. "Does this mean I get to sit in front?!" Victor asked joy in his voice. Henry let go of me and grabbed the sweater putting it on and jumped in front. "Keep dreaming Vic!" he said only getting an annoyed groan from the boy. 

"You misses the entire day of school and you're saying you didn't have sex?!" Belch asked getting a nod from Henry. Driving to his house he got out and started walking to his door. "Wait! Don't leave just yet." I said watching Henry walk in and close the door. "Pat I'm sure your new boyfriend is fine." Belch said glaring at me. "I'm gonna go get my sweater back anyway," I said getting out of the car walking to the house. 

Henry stood still in the entrance of the house shaking visibly. Oscar was walking around shaking his head breathing heavily. "Hey, Pat the door locked?!" Victor yelled I only shook my head getting him and Belch to run over. 

"Why the fuck are you like this?! You are a damn mistake and I think it's about time I got rid of you!" Butch yelled slapping his son across the face. "You gotta lot of nerve coming home wearing a faggots sweater! Coming home your hair like that! You are a failer!" he yelled again. 

Victor had covered his mouth his eyes wide and Belch looked ready to kill the man. "I thought Henry said the beating stopped?!" Victor whispered. "He lied. He told me they just weren't as bad." I replied trying to figure out how to get in without him getting hurt more by my presents. "Clearly they aren't as good! They seem to be worse! What are you doing just standing out here?! You are his boyfriend!" Belch said also in a quiet tone knowing the gravity of the situation. Opening my mouth I stopped hearing Butch speak again. 

"I never should have stopped you from killing yourself!" he growled causing me to snap. I opened the door and ran to Henry grabbing him and pushing him over to Victor who held him. He looked between all of us confused but didn't fight back. "Oh so now the faggot needs some protection, does he?! I'll shoot him right here and not give a shit what happens!" he yelled pulling out a gun pointing it at Henry. 

"Butch your drunk!" Belch yelled trying not to start a fight. Glaring he pulled the trigger and Henry let out a scream of pain falling to the floor holding his side which was now bleeding. "You asshole! You shot your own son!" I yelled swinging at him. Stumbling back he held his face and pointed the gun at me and Belch but Victor grabbed it from him pointing it at him. Vic's hands were shaking but he tried to steady them. Butch growled and lifted his hands ready to hit one of us but he didn't. 

Henry had his arms wrapped around his father as if trying to stop him, tears rolling down his face. "Please." he sobbed quietly as his father looked at him stunned. "Please no more pain! Just one day without any violence. Please father. I don't want this life anymore so please stop!" he begged his voice only full of sincerity. Butch sighed and turned around to fully face his son who was still bleeding out. "Sometimes. You can be so much like your mother. Which is why I stopped you from killing yourself. You don't have the heart of a killer. Victor!" He said getting the boy to jump. 

"Give me my gun! Get the first aid kit in the kitchen. Huggins, Hockstetter! Start getting Henry's things. First thing tomorrow you're moving out." Henry's eyes widened and he smiled hugging his father who stepped back and hesitantly hugged back. "I might as well be a good father once in my life!" he mumbled pulling away and leaving. Victor grabbed henry and pulled off the sweater and shirt and started mending at the gunshot. 

"I think I might need to see a doctor," he mumbled glaring at his side. I walked over to him and sighed in relief seeing him smile a little. "Your sweater kinda got a little bloody. Sorry." he laughed. I shrugged and hugged him. "HEY! Stop moving! Patrick! I'm trying to mend his wound and you aren't gonna become a Disney princess and sing away the blood!" Vic hissed getting me to hold my hands up in surrender. 

"Henry! What do you want me to pack?!" Belch yelled form the boy's room. Henry looked over his shoulder and slapped Victor away getting a glare from him. "I'm not done patching you up!" he growled getting a shrug from Henry. "NO! I'm going to mean you up then you can walk around then you can sit in a hospital bed!" Victor said grabbing the leader. "Okay mom!" he said rolling his eyes. 

"Okay there!" Victor said after a few minutes. Henry shot up and ran to his room. "I NEVER SAID YOU COULD FUCKING RUN AROUND!" Victor yelled after him knowing his friend would ignore him. "You better listen to Victor before he hurts you more," I said holding Henry close to me. "Pine Tree can I stay with you?" he asked kissing my neck. "Yea I suppose you could spend a few nights over at my house." I joked getting him to chuckle a little. 

"Thanks, Pine Tree." he smiled. I rolled my eyes and kissed his forehead. "Whatever Puppy."

[lovecanbesostrange]

Went to watch Scream yesterday and let me write down a few things just for the fun of it (starting with a big spoiler, sooooo~):

The thing happened. The one terrible, terrible thing. I honestly expected it to happen in Scream 4 already, so I guess it was nice we got another round with the trio. But one had to go... ... ... I hate it. Because sure yes it makes *sense* to finally off one of them, because they survived so much and it raises the tension, but also I love them so much. And THE WAY IT HAPPENED!!!!!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh Totally here for Ghostface wearing a bulletproof vest, makes sense. But the killer was down. Maybe I need to pay very close attention if Richie plays it up to make Dewey care more about him then to de-mask the killer. Which he should have fucking done. The moment Dewey says goodbye through the elevator door - perfect hero shot. And at that moment you know he is dead. But they shouldn’t have used an idiot ball for that. Maybe I can get behind “Dewey needed the other three to be safe first.” But it felt so unnecessary. Even though I’m here for the tropes. All the tropes.

The meta commentary, using all cliches and tropes and archetypes and rules - it’s what makes Scream Scream. Yes to that! And I think the film did a very good job with all of that. So I can enjoy the predictable nature of things and the way the audience gets played with (like the scene with Wes and all those open doors, expecting to suddenly see the killer lol, love that). Can we please not let ReQuel happen as a word? Pleaseandthankyou. BUT just like how I enjoy Scream 4 with all the remake/reboot business (and don’t fuck with the original), I think they did a good job with legacy characters setting up the story, tying it to the past, with a new batch of characters. All that worked for me. And it was a surprise that Randy got all those shout-outs. He would be so proud of his niece, I know it. :3

Well, the whole “Billy Loomis is my dad”-thing. Yeah. Okay. *shrug emoji* It plays right into this whole thing of finding more and more previously unknown relatives, so it makes sense to use that hook. Not too keen on how it was handled with Sam’s little visions. I mean, nice for the fans and also Skeet Ulrich, but... I had a moment where Riverdale flashed before my eyes, with Betty and her inherited serial killer genes....................................... Plus a lot of the dialogue, especially when Sam is present, is just not good. It feels extremely forces with a lot of exposition crammed in.

Bonuspoints for Gale saying she felt guilty, because writing about Sidney’s Mom started it all. Honestly, I think a lot of people forget that Ghostface was pre-dated by a murder in town. (I guess Scream 3 is ignored too much, while the Roman reveal is terrible, the film has so many fun moments and I do like that they tried to focus more on Maureen).

When they showed scenes from the dreadful Stab 8 and there was a flamethrower I knew fire would play a role in the final battle. And when Sidney used that disinfectant I laughed already.

Also I have to say, it’s a good thing the in-universe franchise is called Stab. I think that’s what keeps the killers so consistent. Stabbing, stabbing, stabbing. And wow, they did not hold back in this one. It was so brutal with Sheriff Hicks. It felt like a step in a different direction. In Scream 4 we get the scene of the murder drenched in blood, so we know. But here, stab, stab, stab... brutal, you can lose count. That Sam does a bit of stabbing on her own in the end feels earned after all of that.

To me the weirdest thing is that this time it felt like I knew nobody. Obviously Jack Quaid since I watch The Boys. And I just saw Jasmin Savoy Brown in Yellowjackets. But the rest of the “teen” cast... uhm....... that is so weird, because in the previous films almost every name rang a bell already. (I know Jenny Ortega as young!Jane from Jane the Virgin, but that only clicked super late in the film). Is this me getting old or did they choose way lesser known names all around? (I mean Scream 4 had Emma Roberts, Hayden Panettiere, Rory Culkin, Alison Brie, the jam-packed cameo Stab-opening...)

Oh. Right. Mark. MARK. M A R K!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AFTER ALL SIDNEY MARRIED MARK AND THEY HAVE KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Imagine Patrick Dempsey could have shown up for a post-credit scene. (Patrick Dempsey showing up as a surpise making an on-screen wife I care about happy could have happened twice! Come on.)

There were so many things running through my head last night. Well, needed to write something down. But yeah, remember kids, don’t be a rabid fan who thinks filmmakers owe you anything! XD XD XD (I can actually get behind that.)

[asteriismos]

gold dust woman - richie tozier

warning(s) : smut, eighteen! losers, loss of virginity, masterbation, probably more

words : 3.3k

summary : innocent reader asks richie tozier for help

your mother always told you that a good woman was a traditional woman. 

a woman who crosses her legs when sitting, doesn't swear, says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. your mom was a housewife, no job only to take care of the kids and the house. and her mother before that was the same, but the times were changing, it was easy to see that. girls went to school just as long as guys did and they were allowed to participate in sports. they would go to college and learn and support themselves if that’s what they wanted. no matter how many times you tried to tell your mom this, she would dismiss you and tell you that it was her house, her rules.

you had lived in derry your entire life, making friends with the stanley uris in your ‘accelerated’ math class in sixth grade. stanley introduced you to bill and eddie, who introduced you to richie tozier. 

you were always fascinated by richie tozier. he wasn’t afraid of saying the wrong thing and if he did, he didn’t care. he was a loudmouth and swore whenever he wanted to. you knew that it was wrong for you to want to do those things, because that’s what your mother always said. she didn’t like that you hung out with mainly boys because she said that always led to trouble, she said that they would take advantage of you. but the losers were just your friends, they made you laugh and smile. 

that was your first act of rebellion against your mother. even just at eleven years old.

as you grew older, you stayed by your friends side. you sympathized with eddie because both of you had overbearing mothers, who surprisingly became friends after meeting in the supermarket one day. freshman year rolled along and you were exposed to the wonders of teenage life. you could remember the first time that richie brought weed to one of the losers hangouts and you were the only one who didn’t try it. because you were just like that. no one pressured you, but richie did his fair share of teasing. you didn’t drink either, even if it was just a glass of wine that beverly would have when you came over to her house when her dad wasn’t there. 

you were convinced that if you tried those things once, your mother would know. she would find out and then you would be locked in your house until you were twenty five. 

it wasn’t until junior year of high school that you rebelled against your mother again, which was having a crush on a boy that she didn’t approve of. she was always trying to get you to go on dates with boys from the catholic school in bangor that she sometimes volunteered at. you didn’t like any of them. you liked the one boy that she despised : richie. your mother hated him, he was everything that she disliked in a boy and that made him that much more hotter to you. 

richie knew that you liked him. it really wasn’t that hard to tell. the way that you would giggle after he made a joke, or how your eyes would always meet his first if the group went swimming. he wanted you, he wanted you a whole lot but as far as he knew, he couldn’t have you. because he didn’t want to ruin your innocence. richie loved you for who you were, and he didn’t want to be the catalyst for the impending rebellion you would have for rebelling against your mother. 

you were like a delicate flower, and richie knew that if he had you in the palm of his hands for even a second, you would be crushed. 

that didn’t mean that he couldn’t fantasize though. there have been multiple times where he would look at your legs that you showed while wearing a skirt and he would think about running his hands along them, hearing those breathless moans coming from your lips. 

you didn't know how to flirt properly, it always ended with red cheeks and embarrassed smiles cast his way. you felt a little helpless, not knowing how to get rid of the ache you had for richie. you confided in stanley about it and he told you that richie was interested in you and just that made you feel bashful. you didn’t know what to do to get him, it was all confusing. 

then you devised a plan with beverly to finally get him. it was naughty and felt so wrong, but beverly understood. she had seen the unrequited feelings from both of you for too long. she was the one who took you to the doctor to get birth control pills when your period cramps were too hard to control and your mother said you just had to deal with it. she was the one who basically told you what sex was. 

since you got older, your mother has gotten used to letting you stay home alone. and you knew from endless amounts of snooping that she was seeing some other man, which made sense considering she had been alone for so long since your dad died when you were little. she left you home alone for nights, always friday nights and she would come back saturday night.

you had invited richie over earlier that day at school. you were so nervous for this encounter that you couldn’t think about anything else. all you did was pace back and forth up and down the stairs of your house and in and out every single room. you did this for at least a half and hour before the doorbell rang and you felt your stomach drop. 

putting a smile on your face, you opened the door to be met with richie. he was wearing one of his old band tees and black jeans, hands fiddling anxiously with the hem of his shirt. “hey, rich,” you greeted, motioning for him to come into the house. you felt him take a look in and search around. “don’t worry. my moms gone for the night.” you laughed, thinking back to the last time her and richie encountered each other. it was a lot of yelling from your mothers end and a lot of ‘what the hell did I do’s’ from richie. 

only your mother could get mad at a boy just breathing in your direction. 

“good, I really wasn’t planning on dying today,” richie replied, taking a breath of relief and walking into your house. he took off his shoes and gave you a look, wondering why he was here with you alone. this has never happened before and it seemed so unlike you. his heart was practically beating out of his chest. 

you looked at him. “well, don’t look too nervous. Jesus richie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something. come on, let’s go up to my room,” you said, leading him all the way up to your room. richie walked into your room first, back turned away from you. 

your room was a mixture of pink and purple hues, it was probably the most innocent looking rooms that he has ever been in. it was so clean and it smelled like a mixture of lavender and vanilla, the smell that you always smelled like no matter the day. it was intoxicating, richie felt like he was on an endless high just from your presence. if only you knew the effect you had on him. 

richie was still turned away from you, hearing the door close didn’t really mind to him. it was when he was admiring the bookshelf you had in the corner of the room when he heard the noise of something dropping to the floor that caught his attention. he turned around to be met with you shirtless, the only thing separating his eyes from your full chest was your pink frilly bra ( that you borrowed from bev, but he didn’t have to know that ). richie’s eyes widened and his first instinct was to look away because well . . . you’re y/n. he’s seen a multitude of girls naked but he didn’t feel the same way that he felt about them that he did with you. 

you were the epitome of innocence and here you were, standing in just a bra and those short black shorts that you only wore to go swimming in the quarry. 

“y/n. . .” richie said, trailing off with his words when you took a step towards you. your skin looked so vibrant and soft and all richie wanted to do was touch you. “what-what are you doing?” 

you bit your lip, pushing those black shorts down your legs and stepping out of them. you were wearing your own pink undies, lace on the top of them with a little bow in the center right under your exposed stomach. you felt the cold air of your house on your skin and that only edged you on more, keeping your soft eyes on richie. “I don’t know what I'm doing. and college is going to be soon and I don’t want to be inexperienced,” you started. it was the only excuse that you could think of in the moment. “so I was wondering if you would teach me.”

richie’s brain felt like it was malfunctioning. his eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve of it and cataloging it for later. you were so beautiful, richie knew that he was absolutely fucked. 

the need was growing too large for him to handle. 

I was wondering if you could teach me. you could teach me. teach me. 

teach me. 

“are you sure?” richie asked you, walking forward until he was only an inch away from you. his hand reached up and pushed your hair behind your ear, making you shiver at the feeling. his fingers came to your shoulder, fiddling with your bra strap. his touches were so light but you felt like you were on fire. 

you nodded, standing on your tippy toes and kissing him. you held him by the back of his neck and leaned your body all the way into his. he tasted like cigarettes and cherries from his lunch earlier, it was intoxicating and you knew you could spend a lifetime just kissing him. but the desire burning in the pit of your stomach wasn’t going to hold back much longer. you didn’t know what you were doing or if you were even doing it correctly. 

richie pulled away from you, deciding that you kissing him was his open invitation to ravish you. his hands were strong as they reached for your exposed sides and pushed you towards the bed, going to the small of your back to help you down onto the soft pink fabric. he stayed at the edge, looking at your body and then saying, “do you touch yourself?”

your cheeks burned red for the first time since richie had been in your room. he was asking such a personal question to you and you knew that he wouldn’t let you brush off the question. you were embarrassed to tell him that you did in fact touch yourself and when you were really getting into it, you imagined that it was his fingers instead of your own. it was always late at night because your mother would kill you if she saw you or heard your soft moans that you did into a pillow stuffed in your face. 

“yes.”

it was a soft yes and richie wasn’t even sure if you really said anything or it was just his imagination taking over. the mere thought of you sitting in this pink bed with those frilly underpants getting off with just your hand was making him go crazy. richie gave you a cocky grin, “show me then.”

you were confused at what he was asking, until it dawned on you that he wanted to watch you touch yourself in front of him. if you weren’t blushing all the way before, you surely were now. his eyes never left you, he didn’t laugh after saying it. he was serious. there was lust in his eyes. 

in a surge of confidence, you leaned yourself against your headboard and slowly spread your legs, exposing yourself to him. you saw him breath in and out, eyes trailing down to your heat. your hands came up to your breasts, giving them a squeeze and whining out. you let one stay there while the other trailed down your stomach, fingertips just dancing along the skin. you allowed for that hand to dip under your pink panties and touch your clit, making you gasp. your eyes screwed shut, massaging figure eights on yourself. 

you felt hands on your hipbones and you snapped your eyes open, seeing richie lean over you. his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled them off of you, leaving your bottom half fully exposed to him. you continued to rub at your clit while he said, “I had to get those out of the way to see you, pretty girl.”

those words edged you on, bringing your fingers lower down to tease at your entrance. in one swift movement you were plunging two fingers into you, already slick with your wetness when you pulled them out and repeated the action. you took a peek at richie and saw that his mouth was open, palming himself through his pants. fuck, he’s so hot. you must be doing something right if you got him this worked up. 

your thumb pressed against your folds while you pumped in slowly, moaning loudly now that your mom wasn’t there to catch you. if you closed your eyes you could almost imagine that it was richie doing it, though him watching you was becoming one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 

“richie,” you moaned out, looking at him. “please.” you kept pushing in and out while your hips rolled against your hand. you didn’t have to beg too much, because he was pulling off his shirt and undoing his belt and pushing his pants down at lighting speed. you could see his hard on right through his grey boxers, making that pit in your stomach get wider. the sheer fact that he wanted you made you go crazy. 

richie got on the bed, the motion of the bed dipping with his weight made you all too aware of what was about to come. his hand was swatting yours away from your entrance and he replaced it with his own, making you hiss out in pleasure at the two fingers that ran down your clit, then trailed down and plunged into you. his fingers were much bigger than your own, making your walls clenching around them that much more enjoyable. 

you were moaning his name and richie swore he could listen to that on repeat and he’d never get tired of it. his hand pulled away from yours and you watched as he pushed his boxers down off of him, grabbing himself and giving it a good few pumps. you gave him a look and tentatively grabbed his dick, repeating the motion that he had. your hands were so soft, so much better than his own that richie couldn’t control the low guttural moan that left him. your stomach was doing flips, licking your lips and waiting for him. 

“I don’t have a condom on me, y/n,” richie muttered, realizing that you two were fucked. if he knew that he would be fucking you today, he would’ve come a little bit more prepared. 

you grabbed him and kissed him again, pulling away and leaning your forehead against his own. “I'm on the pill, it’s okay,” you whispered, giving him an anxious smile. “bev went with me to get it a few months ago.” richie laughed, realizing that bev was more of a mother to you than your actual mother was. he nodded, taking a large breath. 

you unclipped your bra, throwing it across the room and laying on your back, waiting for him to do something, anything. you were so wet at this point at the thought of finally having sex with richie. your mother always virginity this really big thing, and to you it was. but you didn’t want to wait until marriage, you wanted richie and you wanted him now. 

richie aligned yourself with your entrance, pressing the tip just in a little bit and capturing you in a kiss as he pushed all the way in. his kisses helped soothe you through the feeling of him stretching you out. he was thick and tears welled up in your eyes at the pinging pain. he stalled in you for just a moment to let you adjust, then moved out and pushed in again. he felt like he was in heaven, you were the tightest thing that he had ever experienced and it took all in him not to just start fucking you as roughly as he could. 

“fuck, you’re so perfect,” richie spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek and burying his face into the crook of your neck. your hands held his shoulders, squeezing them every once in a while when he hit just the right spot in you. at this point the pain was gone and it was replaced with earth shattering pleasure that you knew you’d never get tired of. his words brought heat to your cheeks, along with the dirty words that he whispered into your ear with every rut of his hips. 

your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to keep him as close to you as you could. the pit in your stomach was growing from where it left off from richie’s and your own fingers, you knew you weren’t going to last long. a part of you felt embarrassed that you weren’t. then you remembered that you were with richie, someone who wouldn’t judge you for something like that. you trusted him, and felt safe in his arms. 

your moans became more high pitched and richie knew you were close, he pushed your legs up by their thighs and hit a different, deeper angle. a few thrusts later you were cumming in his arms, heaving in and out with your heart pounding against your ribcage uncontrollably. 

you mewled out as richie still rutted his hips against yours, the lewd sound making your face scrunch up. you rolled your hips in the motion of his and he moaned out, and when you did it again he was cumming inside you. you felt the hot liquid spurt and spread within you and the feeling made you make a small noise. once richie was done, he pulled out of you and watched as it spilled out of you. he felt dirty, fucking you in your pink frilly bed in the room with the scented candles. he loved it, however dirty it was. 

and you felt like you had rebelled against your mother in the crudest way you could, and got satisfied beyond belief by it. 

richie moved to get off the bed and you grabbed him by his wrist. “don’t go, please?” 

he laughed, leaning and kissing your hipbone. “I wouldn’t in a heartbeat sugar, I just have to get something to clean you off.” 

he moved all the way off and left the room towards the bathroom, and when he returned he wiped a towel in between your legs. you squirmed a little bit, still a little sensitive. while he was standing, he pulled his boxers up and got back on the bed with you. his arms wrapped around your body, snuggling into your side. 

a few minutes rolled by and richie looked to see your face as he asked, “why did you let me do it? I mean, instead of one of the other’s?”

“I like you richie,” you admitted. “I think that’s a little obvious.”

richie gave you a big toothy grin, shaking his head with a laugh. he didn’t even have to speak for you to know that he liked you too. he was finally yours, regardless of what anyone or your mother thought. 

yours.

[marvelslut16]

I Promise

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Bowers!Reader (young) 

Request/synopsis: “Hi! If you’re still writing Stanley Uris, could you write a little childhood piece taking place during the first movie where the reader is one of the bullies’ little sister and hates what her brother and his friends are doing to the losers and starts to hanging out with them and the boys make fun of Stan because it’s obvious that he likes her and one day they’re walking and end up on the kissing bridge and he just starts rambling to her about something he saw and she interrupts him by kissing him”

Word count: 4,390 I think I got carried away

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of attempted murder? Use of the term flamer, it means flamboyant gay, Stan is called that by Patrick in the books. Mentions a lewd act that happens in the book as well. Violence from a brother. Bullying. Some angst? Pennywise, that should definitely be a warning lmao.  Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Sort of mentions character death.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted, I tried to do this request justice (since it was my first! Thank you to the anon that asked for it!) but I definitely took it on an angsty ride lol. I definitely focused more on Henry and the time in the sewers than I originally planned.  Sorry this took so long as well, I wasn’t sure how to fit all of my ideas together. I really like how this turned out, but it’s also like two in the morning so there could be typos. 

Do you like being Henry's little sister? Of course not. Siblings or not, Henry treats you like shit too, at least he has the decency to keep it behind closed doors. On top of that, everyone avoids you, expecting you to be just like your brother or Greta. Greta is relatively nice to you, or as nice as demon spawn can be, she never makes fun of you or bullies you, she even tries to include you in her shit. Thinking, like everyone, that Henry actually likes you; and this way she can make a good impression and he can finally ask her out. 

You walk out of the front doors of the school on the last day to see your lovely brother and his idiot friends teasing Stan and his group of friends, stealing the curly-haired boys kippah. Richie, being his typical self, starts screaming and insulting Henry, making him angrier. Henry takes said anger out on Stan, pushing him to the ground and pulling his leg back to kick the smaller boy in the side. 

“Hey!” you scream and rush over to the scene, before you can realize what you're doing. 

“Come to defend your boyfriend?” your brother sneers before laughing like a lunatic. 

“Back off Henry,” you glare at him, stepping between him and Stan. You can hear the poor boy behind you struggling to stand up.

“Or what?” Henry leans in, face inches from yours. He has never made his dislike for you public, even his friends are shocked by his actions. “You gonna run home and tell Dad?”

“Tempting,” you push him away from your face, mindful that your father is on duty somewhere in the ocean of students. As he’s distracted by the shove, you yank the kippah free from his grasp. “You want them, you go through me.”

“That can be arranged,” he grits his teeth, gesturing for his friends to grab you. 

They look shocked for a second, before Belch wraps his large arms around your middle to hold you back. Your brother smirks at you as he advances on Stan, preparing to punch him. Your pleas for him to stop advancing on the loser’s, as they’re dubbed, fall on deaf ears. 

“Let go of me you creep!” you yell at Belch, before slamming your foot down on his. He lets go of you before bouncing around in pain, like a stupid cartoon character. You run between Henry and the Losers, but not before he can shove Richie to the ground. “Go home Henry,” you shove his chest again. 

“You can’t make me,” he flips open his switchblade as he advances on you. The rest of the world seems to still and all you can think is will Henry really hurt you? You hear the muffled cries from the boys behind you get louder with each step your brother takes towards you.

“What’s going on here?” your dad's voice cuts through the haze, Henry backs off and hides his knife before Dad can see. 

“I was just offering her a ride home,” Henry scowls as he turns to your father.

“And I was telling him that I was going to go hang out with my friends,” you use your thumb to point at the boys behind you. Your Dad eyes them wearily before ultimately coming to the conclusion that they’re a harmless group of nerds. He nods at you and sends Henry a small glare that if you blink you’ll miss before heading back the way he came. 

“Watch yourself,” Henry warns before making his way to Belch’s car, friends in tow. You let out a sigh as they drive away, shoulders slumping as your adrenaline wears off.

“I think this belongs to you,” you smile at Stan, handing him his kippah.

“Thanks,” he breathes, he looks like he wants to continue speaking but no words come out. As he grabs the kippah from you, his fingers brush against yours and a blush creeps up his cheeks. You grin at how adorable he is. 

“Are you guys okay?” you glance between him and Richie. Stan just nods and Richie rolls his eyes at the doe eyed look his friend is giving you. 

“I’d say we didn’t need your help, but Stan the man here certainly liked being your damsel in distress,” Richie smacks a hand on Stan’s shoulder and laughs, you soon join in. Stan smacks the boy with the glasses harder than you think anyone realized he could. “Ow, that fucking hurt” Richie whines, rubbing his arm and sulking off to Eddie. 

“D-do y-y-you wan-nt to go-o to the qu-qu-quarry wi-with us?” Bill asks and Richie smirks at the idea.

“I should go before Henry gets even more mad,” you play with the hem of your shirt. “But thank you for asking.”

“Please,” Richie clasps his hands and blinks dramatically at you, sticking his bottom lip out in an over dramatic pout. 

“Why not?” you grin at the losers, but at Stan the most. 

--

Over the following weeks you grow closer to the boys; Bev, Mike, and Ben too when they join the losers club. One day the eight of you are at the quarry trying to ignore the whole killer clown thing. Stan looks nervous about jumping into the water, even though you’ve seen him do it multiple times already. So you decide to grab his hand and pull him down with you withput warning. He lets out a high pitched screech that you almost can’t hear over the wind whipping past you. 

Once you and Stan, the last two to jump down, break the water's surface Richie grabs Eddie repeatedly screaming the word chicken and shaking the smaller boy. Bev grabs Ben’s hand to which he grins at. Richie and Bill share a look before the stuttering boy wades over to you. 

“W-w-will you b-be my par-pa-partner?” Bill smiles at you, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Of course!” you smile at your friend, happy that the group accepted you quickly even though you’re a Bowers. You don’t see the glare Stan is sending Bill as he pairs up with Mike. Richie smirks at the rest of the group, you and Stan oblivious to the looks they send each other and their plan to make Stan so jealous he tells you how he feels. 

--

“So Stan,” Richie sings.

“No,” Stan says, watching you and Bev ride your bikes to your house for a sleepover. Her dad was worse than normal lately and she needed an escape, and you loved the escape it created from your brother. 

“I never asked my fucking question,” the boy with the coke-bottle glasses pouts.

“Because nothing good ever comes out of your mouth,” Stan deadpans, finally turning to look at his friends. You rode past the curve at the end of the road effectively taking you out of Stan’s line of sight, so he had no reason not to look at his friends now. 

“You were holding hands with (Y/N),” Eddie speaks up from Richie’s side. “Which is just fucking disgusting! Do you know how many germs-”

 His voice is cut off when Richie slaps his hand over the smaller boy's mouth. The look of terror on the hypochondriac’s face is one that Richie won’t stop laughing at for years to come. 

“She pulled me off the ledge,” Stanley rolls his eyes, suppressing a blush as he remembers how soft and warm your hand was. “It meant nothing.”

“And big Bill doesn’t fucking stutter,” Richie rolls his brown eyes, which look like googly eyes since they’re magnified by his glasses. 

“What?” Stan asks looking at the road in front of him, not wanting his friends to see how red his face and ears are. 

“I thought we were coming up with obvious lies,” Richie shrugs. “You’ve been in fucking love with her since you two got paired up at the beginning of the damn school year.”

“Have not!” Stan tries to lie, but his face darkens three shades deeper. The red instantly gives his obvious feelings away to his smirking friends. 

“It’s that or you have rosacea,” Edidie looks up at the Jewish boy with mock innocent eyes. “Because your cheeks are bright red every time you're around her.” Stan doesn’t respond because he knows they’re right, so he just walks away from them.

--

“Do you like Stan?” Bev giggles at the sleepover. The two of you had been talking about her and Ben prior to the question. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, looking down at your hands resting in your lap. “He’s so nice, and so sweet, and so caring. Plus, he went out of his way to help me when I was confused in class this year.”

“Yeah-” you cut off the redhead. 

“And the way his curls fall in front of his eyes when he’s leaning forward, so he has to angrily huff at it to try to blow the curl away. And the way his face scrunches up all adorably when he’s concentrating on a hard problem.”

Before you can continue fawning over your friend, your door slams open. It hits the wall behind it with a loud crack, where you later find a hole in the wall the handle created. In the doorway is a pissed off Henry, steam practically shooting out of his ears. 

“I thought I told you to stay away from him and the rest of those fucking losers?” he shouts, you’re dad isn’t here to hear him. “And now I hear you talking about that damn flamer with the schools slut no less.”

“Funny that you call Stan a flamer,” you smirk at your brother as you stand from the bed, subtly stepping in front of  Bev so she’s behind you and away from your brother's wrath. “When Patrick gave you a hand job.” 

“How the fuck did you hear about that?” he slams his fist into the wall beside him, knocking off a framed photo of a bird Stan had sketched for you during the school year. 

“I saw it with my own two eyes, dumb ass,” you sneer at him. “Next time you want to get a hand job from your boyfriend, don’t do it at the dump.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” he roars, closing in on you. Bev lets out a small gasp behind you, you feel bad she has to witness this. Especially when she came here to get away from her dad.

“Go ahead, then run off to get your oral from him,” you laugh. Before Henry can do anything else, the front door opens and your dad calls for you two. You sigh in relief as your older brother storms out of your room. You and Bev never bring up what was said or what just happened. 

--

You got separated from Stan while in Neibolt, but luckily Bill was with you. The horrors you all faced in that run down house will forever haunt each and every one of you. You’re shaking slightly as Stan and you cling onto each other as the two of you walk out of that horrendous place. 

You gasp loudly and hide your face in Stan’s chest as Bill punches Richie in the face. Your body starts to shake slightly without your permission, being taken back to when Henry punched the wall a few days prior. Bev pulls you into her side as Stan and Mike help Richie up. Bill goes for Richie again, but Ben holds him back. Richie yells back in retaliation.

“Stop,” you whimper, body trembling worse. Visions of your dad and Henry yelling at each other and shoving one another flash through your mind. A memory of Henry punching the locker beside your head when you were the last two in school floats to the forefront of your mind. “Please.”

Stan immediately rushes over to you and pulls you into his chest, you don’t care if he finds out about your feelings anymore as you grip onto his striped polo. He’s an anchor in the storm of your mind. Even when Henry isn’t around, he’s still lurking in the back of your mind making sure he can hurt you. The rest of the group stops what they’re doing for a minute to glance at the two of you before walking in two separate directions. Bev gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she leaves. 

“How about I walk you home? Stan offers, rubbing his hand in a calming motion on your back. 

“Can we go on a walk instead?” you ask nervously, pulling away slightly. He keeps his arms wrapped around you as he studies your face. He keeps his arm around your shoulder as you walk through the park. 

You and Stan take a seat in front of  the giant Paul Bunyan statue, soaking up the summer sun and the sounds of the birds singing. For the next several hours you and Stan lay side by side on the grass as he points out different birds and tells you about them. Your heart pounds every time your fingers brush against each other as they lay in between you. Your body and heart are aching to slip your fingers through his, but your mind is telling you no. You ultimately listen to your mind, feeling dissatisfied with yourself at the awkward wave he gives you as he drops you off at your house. 

--

The days where the losers are fighting rush by, each of them spent doing something with Stan. before you know it, it’s nearing the end of the summer and Pennywise is gone. You reluctantly take part in the blood oath, wanting to leave this town as soon as you turn eighteen and never look back. But you would do anything for your friends, even risk your life for them again. As you're hugging Bev goodbye, you can’t believe she’s really leaving, Stan comes up beside you. 

“Will you go on a walk with me?” Stan asks timidly, not meeting your eyes. The puffy bandages around his face make your heart lurch at the thought of how much pain he must have endured. 

“Sure,” you nod even though he’s staring at the ground in front of his feet. Bev gives you a smile and a slight shove in encouragement. You give her one last smile as you start off down the trail, Stan taking long strides to catch up. 

“What happens now?” Stan asks, his fingers brush against yours as you walk side by side. 

“My aunt’s moving here, so I’m staying,” you don’t turn to look at him, scared to face more disappointment. 

You stop walking when you two reach the kissing bridge, not that you expected anything to happen, but it was a nice view. You look down to see the small S inside the heart you carved earlier in the year, it sits near Richie’s R + E. You absentmindedly rub your wrist, Henry had grabbed you so hard he bruised you when he caught you with his missing switchblade. But it was worth it, in twenty or thirty years from now those markings would still be there, your own little mark on history. 

“I’m glad,” Stan says it so quietly he doesn’t think you’ll hear him, but you do. You glance up at him and immediately frown as you get a better look at the bandages wrapped around his face. It takes you back to the day in the sewers, the day he yelled at you. 

“Stan!” you scream in fear as you wade through the grey water. Your heart is pounding in your chest, this can’t be happening! You can’t lose him, not Stan. One minute he was with the group and the next he's gone. “What if IT got him?” your voice shakes in fear.

“You can’t think like that,” Richie says firmly, but you can hear the fear in his voice. 

Before you can respond you hear a scream, one eerily familiar to when you pulled Stan off the ledge at the quarry. “Stan!” you scream again as you run past your friends through the dark smelly sewers to find the curly haired boy that you care for. 

You reach the closed door at the end of the tunnel, opening the rusty metal on your own thanks to the adrenaline rush. Your friends' screams of Stanley get louder as they catch up to you. All six of you rush through the door and look for Stan in the large underground room. You walk around and come face to face with the creepy women from the painting he hates eating his face. A strangled sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper escapes your mouth, alerting your friends that you found him. 

“What the fuck is that?” Richie asks as Eddie shines Stan’s discarded flashlight at the thing. The multiple rows of teeth finally let go of Stan and the lady looks at the lot of you.

“Get off of him!” you scream, reaching down beside you and grabbing a rusty pipe. You chuck the metal at the creature smacking it in the middle of the face, it opens its mouth and hisses at you before retreating. 

You all breathe a small sigh of release, until Pennywise peeks his head out from behind the corner. All six of you let out high pitched screams, but all you can think about is Stan’s safety not your own. As Pennywise hides behind the corner again you run and drop to your knees at Stan’s side, the rest of the boys quickly following suit. You reach out and touch his arm, muttering his name in a soft calming voice, but all he does is scream in terror. 

“Get off me!” he pushes six pairs of hands off of him as he scrambles away from you and the rest of the losers club. “You left me! You took me to Neibolt! You aren’t my friends!” 

“Stan, we were looking for you. We were so worried, I was so worried,” your hand gently touches his cheek, trying to see how much physical damage IT had caused.

“Get away from me!” he glares at you as he smacks your hand away from him. “You're no better than Henry! Worse than him! You tricked me into being your friend just so you could hurt me!”

You rip yourself away from the curly haired boy so fast you fall flat on your ass as you try to move away. You gasp and tears fill your eyes, Bill’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder. He had been with you at Neibolt, he saw that your fear was Henry. Your feelings for Stan were obvious, so the accusations made the rest of the boys angry at Stan for hurting you. Tears fall quickly from your cheeks as you stand and back away from the group. You need to get out of there, away from Stan, away from the pain. 

The rest of the losers back away from their friend and get ready to search for their favorite redhead. You all find Bev quickly, and you smirk as Ben kisses her to wake her up. Pennywise soon appears, attacking Bill first, the rest of you try to fight the clown but it doesn’t work.

“Let him go!” Bev’s plea reminds you of yours from earlier. 

“No, I’ll take him” IT shakes its head with a grin. The killer clown explains to the group how it will eat your flesh as it feasts on your fears. “I’ll take him and only him,” IT offers. 

“Leave,” Bill begs the losers.

“I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown,” Richie complains. “Welcome to the losers club asshole!” he screams, hitting Pennywise in the face with a discarded baseball bat. 

Chaos erupts, everyone grabs for a weapon to fight the clown with. As everyone starts attacking IT with the garbage they found, IT manages to slip away. You all decide, stupidly, to split up and look for Pennywise. 

“Good morning sunshine,” Henry’s annoying voice whispers into your right ear, dialogue straight from an incident where he almost seriously injured you. “Dad’s not home.” You can hear the smirk in IT’s voice.

“This isn’t real! You aren’t Henry! You aren’t real!” you scream, the losers stop their search for the clown and watch on nervously. 

“It’s time to play sis!” IT laughs like a maniac as he walks in front of you, you're forced to stare up into IT’s eyes. Pennywise steps closer so you step back, which you do again and again. A replica of Henry’s switchblade pops open and is pointed directly at your gut. “Daddy dearest isn’t home to stop me!”

“Go through with it! Do it! Do what the real Henry never had the guts to do!” you scream at your brother- well Pennywise. He has you backed into a wall, switchblade dully pushing into you just above your navel. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you pant, angry tears mixing with the heartbroken ones from earlier as you stare defiantly at the thing that had been after you and your friends all summer.  

IT backs away slowly, your brothers-Pennywise’s- head tilting to the side as he studies you. A grin too large to be humanly possible splits across Henry’s face, rows of teeth on display as IT laughs in delight. You see your friends inching closer to you and the clown, you make eye contact with Richie giving him a slight shake of your head. He sighs in defeat, grabbing both Stan and Eddie pulling them back, the rest of the losers halt when they realize what the trashmouth did. 

“You were easy to crack,” IT giggles loudly, shifting back into a clown. IT lifts a hand up, finger tracing your cheek down to your throat, stopping directly over your artery.   

“Take me and leave my friends alone!” you glare up at IT. 

As the clown goes to open its mouth, Ben comes out of nowhere and stabs IT right in the back. The rest of the losers start attacking IT again, the clown shifts from fear to fear in hopes of getting one of the losers to stop. It shifts to Bev’s father, so she stabs a rusty rod right down IT’s throat in order to make him go away. The clown convulses and backs away from the group. 

“That’s why you didn’t kill (Y/N) and Bev, because they weren’t afraid of you!” it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Bill not stutter. “We aren’t afraid of you. Now it’s your turn to be afraid, because you’ll starve.” IT flips itself into a hole that leads lower into the sewer system, letting go and disintegrating before Bill can whack IT with a pipe. 

You all stare in shock for a few moments before making your way out of the sewers and towards your homes. The losers all talking amongst themselves, all but you. you’re ahead of the group, wanting to put as much distance between you and Stan as you possibly can. Eddie too, he had already asked what you meant while Pennywise was still Henry. Two conversations you definitely didn’t want to have. 

“(Y/N/N)? You okay?” Stan’s distant and worried voice breaks you out of your memories. “Where were you just now?”

“I’m fine,” you lie and he can tell by the flash of pain that crosses your face. “Just thinking about the other day.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Stan frowns, turning away from the carvings on the wood to face you fully. “I wasn’t in the right head space-”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, fingers gently running over the S carved into the wood.

“No it isn’t,” he says firmly, you look at him with wide eyes. You weren’t expecting him to get so serious about it. “IT messed with my head, made me see things that weren’t true and I took it out on you.” 

“Stan, I get it. IT knew how to hurt us most,” you reach over and lightly wrap your hand around his in a reassuring gesture. He stares down at your joined hands for a moment, ears turning a vibrant red, before continuing with his explanation. 

“He showed me a vision of you and Bill kissing,” Stan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“What-” you’re eyebrows furrow as you watch his face grow from pink to red. 

“I like you, (Y/N). A lot. And when IT showed me that it broke my heart. Deep down I knew it wasn’t real, but it felt so real. I’ve liked you since the beginning of the school year, and I never had the guts to tell you. Because why would you like me? You could have any guy, how could you ever possibly want me-” you cut him off by gently pressing your lips to his. It’s a soft and fast peck, but you still pull away smiling. “What?”

“I like you too, you loser. For just as long, I was scared to say anything because of Henry,” you giggle at his shock, mouth open and eyes wide. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

“Speaking of Henry,” Stan’s mouth snaps shut before his lips pull into a deep frown. “What did you mean back in the sewers?” You sigh, not wanting to admit it allowed. Stan pushes a strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek gently. 

“Henry thought I broke his Atari, so he screamed at me endlessly and threatened to kill me,” you admit softly, rage and sadness battle within Stan’s eyes as he takes in the information. “It wasn’t the first time he threatened that, but it seemed different that time. My dad had no idea, he only heard some of the yelling, which he screamed at Henry for doing. So that made Henry even more mad at me. But anyway, it turns out that it was Belch that broke it.”

“(Y/N),” Stan says softly, pulling you into his embrace. “I’ll never let anyone else hurt you.”

“Promise?” you ask hopefully, could you really finally be happy? 

“I promise,” he kisses your forehead softly. “I know this isn’t great timing, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to,” you grin at him, gently caressing the bandages as you pull him in for another kiss.

tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[thorniest-rose]

Have you got any headcanons on the Frank x went fic you had also I love your writing 💚

Hi love! It’s very sweet you want to know more about this ship! Okay, here are some Frank x Went headcanons for you: 

Frank and Went meet at a neighbourhood party hosted by another couple. Frank and Sonia are new to Derry with their newborn son Edward, so they go along to make a good impression and to meet people. Went’s in the middle of telling a hilarious anecdote about a patient who had begged him to replace his teeth with gold ones, melted down from the gold coins he won in Vegas the year before, when he sees Frank across the room, and he stops dead. Because Frank is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen: slender, small and tanned, with light brown hair and a dusting of freckles across his nose. Went expects the man to be married to someone just as beautiful, but to his surprise he’s married to a large, loud woman who hardly ever lets him speak. When Went finds a moment to introduce himself later on, when Sonia has left his side, Frank flushes and says hello in the softest voice, and Went feels himself grow dizzy at the blush that spills over Frank’s freckled cheeks. 

The next time they meet it’s at a pool party a few weeks later, and Went feels like he’s been punched in the stomach when Frank arrives in tiny swimming shorts and a cropped shirt he has tied at the waist. Went watches him do laps round the pool like some beautiful mer-creature and sees how the skin at his neck and shoulders has started to pop with freckles from the sun, and gets increasingly drunk to try to distract himself. But it’s no use. Towards the end of the afternoon Went slips indoors and jerks off like a teenager in his neighbour’s bathroom because Frank looks so goddamn edible, and he comes thinking about how Frank’s lips would look stretched around his cock. When he comes back out, he catches Frank looking at him in his own swim shorts, and feels his cock twitch again at the way Frank bites down on his bottom lip. 

They first kiss in Went’s basement during a rain storm. The two men had met in town and were making conversation on the street when the rain started. Went’s house is closest so they run back. When they get inside, they’re both drenched so Went offers to wash Frank’s clothes for him and to let him wear something of his own. They’re both standing by the washing machine, with Frank wearing one of Went’s shirts and a pair of his jeans, towel-drying his hair, and they’re both laughing about being caught in the storm and he’s so gorgeous Went can hardly breathe. A second later, Frank’s leaning up on his tip-toes to kiss Went gently on his lips mid-laugh. When he realises what he’s done he freezes and looks horrified, telling Went that he didn’t mean to do that, but before he can run off Went’s pulling him back saying, “Frank, baby, it’s okay,” and it ends with the two men making out hungrily, Went lifting Frank and sitting him down on the washing machine so he can rut between his legs. The two men both come as they’re grinding up against each other, and when Frank hops off the washing machine afterwards his legs tremble like a newborn deer’s. That’s the start of their affair.

There’s a six-year age gap between Went and Frank, so Went jokingly always calls Frank “kiddo”. Went also loves pet names for Frank and when they’re alone often calls him Frankie. He’ll say, “Frankie baby, you know I’m crazy about you,” or, “Frankie, kid, give me a kiss.” Frank pretends to hate it but he doesn’t really. He actually loves it. Because it makes a soft thrill go through him every time Went uses one of his pet names. It makes him feel special. He’s Frank to everyone else, but to Went he’s always Frankie. 

Frank has a sweet tooth and loves Polish candy that his parents gave him when he was a child. He has real trouble finding them in America, especially a small town like Derry, so when one of Went’s colleagues goes to Europe on vacation, Went asks him to bring back some Polish candy. When he does, and Went gifts Frank the candy, the look on Frank’s face lights up Went’s heart in a way he hasn’t felt since the day Richie was born. 

Went and Frank first make love in a motel about 30 minutes outside of Derry. It’s one of the nicer ones - Went doesn’t want to make love to Frank in a dive. But it still feels a little sordid and wrong when they first meet in the room Went’s paid for. That is, until Went has Frank down on the bed and is peeling him out of his clothes. Then the shame completely melts away. And it’s all worth it for the way Frank looks at him when he takes his shirt off, like he’s some Greek god made flesh, and for the way it feels when Went gets between Frank’s thighs and sinks his cock into his sweet, tight body. It’s the most amazing thing Went’s ever felt and they end up making love four times that night, into the morning, unable to keep their hands off each other for more than half an hour. 

Years later, when Eddie’s a teenager he finds a box of old clothes, and he’s delighted to find that Frank’s sweaters and t-shirts fit him. One day he goes round Richie’s house to hang out and he’s wearing one of Frank’s sweaters. He doesn’t know why Went looks so pained when he sees him. Why he hardly makes any conversation and then leaves the room so suddenly. Richie just says his dad is being weird. Turns out that the sweater Eddie’s wearing was a favourite of Frank’s and that sometimes he wore it when they fucked. Seeing Eddie then wearing it, who’s growing up to look so much like Frank, with his delicate prettiness, is too much for Went, who goes upstairs to his office and lets himself cry for a few minutes, looking at a photo of Frank he keeps in his locked desk drawer. A photo that Frank had signed, with "Your boy, Frankie" in a hand-drawn heart.

When Richie’s 17 he goes to Went’s office one day, looking nervous. When Went tells him to come in, Richie stares him in the face and says, “Dad, I’m in love with Eddie. I’m in love with him and I don’t care what you and mom say because I’m going to be with him. No one’s going to keep up apart,” and Went feels his entire world cave in. Because he’d tried to keep Richie away from Eddie, but in that moment he feels history repeating itself, and knows that Richie had been destined to fall in love with Eddie the way he had fallen in love with Frank. Richie mistakes Went’s anguish for rejection and he spits, “Fuck you, old man, how the fuck could you ever understand?” before running from his office and out of the house, and Went knows he should follow him. But all he can do is slump down heavily into his chair, feeling the weight of history push down on him.

That’s all I have for the moment... I hope you enjoy them! 

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Tokens of Love

Mum,

I think I’m in love. Truly. I’ve seen her a few times since March when the girls from the ATA come to bring more planes and since our first meeting it’s only been better and better. Time goes by so quickly with her and I always hate to say goodbye. I feel like my stomach erupts in blossom with the sweetest flowers when she’s around and she’s so good at keeping me on my toes. I think you’d like her. She’s a tough one.

I just had to write and tell you because Richie’s getting so annoyed with me going on and on about her. It feels so real, Mum. In a word full of despair and war and death, being with her makes me feel more alive than ever. Was this what it felt like with you and Dad? When the world felt like you were at the gates of hell but yet everything was fine as long as you had each other? Or maybe I’m acting childish… I’ve never felt like this before.

I can’t wait to bring her home to you.

Your loving son,

Charlie

October 19, 1941

The familiar sound of airplanes overhead pulled a few men from the buildings, Charlie at the head of them all and completely leaving Richard behind in his haste. The ATA women landed the fresh planes skillfully and taxied to the tarmac and Charlie waited with bated breath for any sign of Mary. When he saw her smaller form emerge from one of the planes, his face broke out in a grin and they ran for each other.

He bent down a little to scoop her right off the ground and spun her around just enough to make her laugh and cling onto him.

“Hi, Charlie.” she giggled sweetly as he set her back down on her feet.

“I missed you terribly.” Charlie whispered, letting his hands fall into her own.

“I missed you too.” Mary smiled. Her grin faltered as she stared up at him and then reached a hand up to brush gently over the cut on his cheek, “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Charlie assured her, “Bumped myself getting into the plane the other day. It’s alright.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nah.” Charlie blushed lightly at her concern and she leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Wanna head out?” he whispered.

Mary nodded and they slunk away from the crowd of pilots and across the tarmac, hand in hand. Charlie led them between the buildings of the air base to their usual hiding spot behind one of the bunk houses by the fence, far away from anyone else. They slid to the ground together and Charlie tucked his arm around her shoulders to pull her close as their eyes met and they shared small smiles.

“You ever going to sneak me away to do something other than kissing?” Mary asked teasingly.

“Possibly…but I like kissing you.” Charlie argued lightly, smiling softly as she licked her lips to hide her smitten grin.

She reached a hand up to slide to the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Charlie couldn’t help but grin against her mouth as he kissed her slowly, setting his other hand on her waist to shuffle her a little closer on the grass. They shared gentle chasté kisses in the afternoon sun, hidden from the rest of the base and their respective troops until it felt like it was just them in the world. Cliché? Maybe. But in a world filled with war, it was the only hint of real normal life that they could hold onto.

After a bit, Mary pulled back with a shy smile and Charlie reached down to swipe the pad of his thumb over her soft lips, watching how he tugged at it lightly and it fell back into place. She smiled at him and then rested her head on his shoulder cozily with her arm draped around his middle. Charlie was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

“I told my mum about you.”

He didn’t mean to say it but it just slipped out. There was a pause. He was sure he had scared her but Mary just smiled and nuzzled into his neck some more.

“I told my mum about you too.”

They sat together quietly, mirrored soft smiles on their lips as they basked in the autumn sun and wrapped up in each others arms. Charlie wondered what she told her mother about him. Did she say he was tall? That his father was a veteran himself? That he was the best pilot on the base? It didn’t really matter to him though because he liked to think he knew her feelings pretty well.

“When this blasted war is over…” Mary spoke quietly, “are you going to take me out on a real date?”

Charlie cracked a small smile, “Of course.”

“And not just to make out with me in the garden.” she teased.

“What’s wrong with that? Sounds like a good date to me.” Charlie chuckled before tilting her chin up to connect their smiling lips again.

Mary only laughed into it, her hand grabbing onto the front of his uniform that almost exactly matched her own. He nipped at her bottom lip and she hummed contentedly into his mouth as she opened up for him, letting him slip a bit of tongue against hers. Barely a minute passed before there was a shout from the distance that the women had to head back to the city.

Charlie whined softly as she broke their kiss, “Don’t leave again.”

Mary kissed his cheek and patted her hand against his chest sweetly, “Come on. I’ll be back before you know it. Walk me over.”

They got up from the ground and dusted themselves off before walking hand in hand back towards the main tarmac. Charlie made sure to walk slower than normal just to hang onto the last little bit of time he had left with her but Mary only laughed and tugged at his hand to try and speed him up.

“Come on, Charlie. I gotta go.” she laughed at his obvious dreariness.

He only slid his opposite arm around her middle to pull her back towards him and planted a strong kiss right to her lips in the wide-open air. A few pilots in the near distance whistled at the sight and Mary pulled back with a furious blush yet still had a cheesy grin on her face regardless as she stared up at Charlie. She slid her hand into the neckline of her uniform and unclasped her necklace before passing it into his palm. He stared down at the small M pendant on the silver chain.

“Little good luck charm and something to remember me by until we see each other again.” Mary whispered.

“I already have your lucky plane.” he teased.

“And you already have my heart.”

Charlie bit back his smitten grin as he folded his fingers securely around the necklace and leaned down to kiss her again. She raised her hands to his cheeks to keep him close, lingering on his lips for a moment longer until her friends were shouting after her to hurry up. They said their soft goodbyes before she was running to the trucks and joined her friends to head back to the city.

Charlie found his usual spot beside Richard as a group of them waved the girls off. When they were gone and the pilots started dispersing back around the base, Richard turned to his best friend and glanced down at his hand.

“What did she give you?”

Charlie opened his fingers to show him the necklace.

“Christ,” Richard tisked, “our cockpit is going to be a shrine of this girl sooner rather than later.”

“Not true.” Charlie frowned as he pocketed the necklace.

“It’s alright. I’ve come to terms that you’ve replaced me.”

“You are not being replaced!” Charlie laughed. “You’re always my best friend.”

“You don’t sneak off with me anymore.”

“What? You wanna kiss me behind the bunkhouses?” Charlie teased, only laughing harder at Richard’s shocked face.

“Hell no. I know what goes on back there.” Richard shoved his shoulder lightly before breaking into a teasing mock, “Oh, Mary, I love you so much, I cannot live without you. Oh, Charlie, you’re the pilot of my heart forever and ever and ever.”

Richard added some kissing sounds for emphasis – earning a few weird glances from a few of the other men who were nearby – and Charlie just shoved his best friend away from him, embarrassed.

“Fuck off!” Charlie laughed shyly and tried to walk away but Richie followed after him quickly.

“I’ve kept all your love letters and I’ve told my Mummy about wanting to marry you. I’m a poor pathetic little lovesick boy about you, Mary!”

Queue more kissing noises and Charlie’s desperate attempt to shut his best friend up by turning and slapping a hand over his mouth. Richie only laughed behind his palm, his grey eyes sparkling cheekily at Charlie’s obviously embarrassed face.

“Maybe you’ll understand love when you’re older.” Charlie retorted.

Richard’s eyes went wide in shock and he shoved his best friend’s shoulders back, “Bastard! You’re only a month older than me!”

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx​ @hopinglimelight​ @jonahlovescoffee​ @hiya-its-amber​ @chanelwonders​

[kafka-ish]

brother | r.t.

can boys and girls be friends without attached feelings?

word count: 2.1k

warnings/included: angst(?), college AU, fem!reader

a/n: based off of this song

-

Richie Tozier sat in the parking lot of USC’s Law Department. Become a Lawyer his mom said. You’ll make a lot of money his dad said. It only took two weeks into his freshman year of college for Richie to figure out that he actually hated the judicial system and to hell with it. He was about to light a cigarette even though he pledged to quit months ago: the last day of senior year.

He and the rest of the Losers were hanging by the quarry. Beverly was sitting on the hood of Bill’s car, slathering sunscreen on her sensitive skin because she burns easily. Ben sat with her, his arm itching to wrap itself around her pale shoulder. Bill, Eddie, and Stan were playing cards and Mike had to monitor them for cheating. Richie would’ve joined, but he didn’t want to get up from his position that overlooked the quarry’s water hole. He was laying down on the rocks, eyes closed and shades on, in place of his usual glasses.

“I think I’m gonna quit smokin’,” he announced with a certain proudness that his voice normally did not hold.

“O-oh yeah? How l-long’s that gonna luh-last?” Bill looked up from his cards, giving Eddie a chance to sneak a peak.

“I saw that, Eddie!” Mike Hanlon called from above and Eddie flinched.

“Cripes. Warn a guy before you yell first.”

Four months. It lasted four months, Big Bill, as Richie took out his BIC. He had to mess with it a few times to get the flame to startup. He always preferred matches, but the black lighter with flame stickers he kept in his shirt pocker was cooler.

A yellow-orange heat finally flicked the contraption to life when, at the same time, his Nokia 232 buzzed against the gearshift.

Four months and one day.

The small flame died in Richie’s hand that was now pressing his phone to his ear with no hesitation.

“Rich the Dick Tozier speaking, how can I help you?” Sure, it wasn’t the most professional way to answer a phone call, but who was anyone to call Richie Tozier a professional guy?”

“Hey, Richie!” It was y/n. y/n the girl who sat in front of him in his English class. y/n the girl who wore parkas in fucking California because it’s for the fashion and you wouldn’t understand. y/n the girl who got drunk off her ass at the first party of the year—which, ironically, was where they met.

The parties in college were spectacularly different from the parties Richie would go to in high school. More so, the parties in California were more… insane. Wild. The booze was exponentially more expensive—nothing that Bill would ever think of getting at his own. And the girls could closely be mistaken for a Hollywood child star.

Nothing like the parties in Derry Richie thought to himself as he drunkenly swept through the halls of a fucking Mansion. He didn’t realize his feet were working properly until he looked down, seeing as he was standing on all fours—all twos. How he was still standing up remained a mystery to him because he must’ve had ten shots of vodka that was worth more than his entire being and future.

Before him, when he entered the billiard room, stood a girl even drunker than him (somehow). She stood on the pool table, laughing above the crowd of frat boys who were yelling to take your damn shirt off already! And c’mon don’t be a prude. They surrounded her like dogs fighting for the last strip of steak until Richie stepped in.

“A little drunk to be standing on the edge like that.” He took a swig from his red solo cup. “Here, sweetheart, lemme help you down.” He offered her an unsteady hand only to be brushed away like a speck of dust on a grandfather clock.

“I can help myself,” y/n said. She got down from the pool table by sitting on the ledge first, then letting each foot touch the ground one at a time. “See?” She steadied herself using his shoulder and looked up at him with a smirk that let him know they were going to be friends.

And they were friends.

y/n was overjoyed when she found out Richie was in one out of her five classes and Richie was just happy to be able to talk someone’s ear off without them rolling their eyes or giving him the side-eye.

“Hey, y/n/n,” Richie said, mimicking the same enthusiasm from across the speaker. “What’re you up to?”

“Besides calling you?” Richie felt himself beginning to laugh but it felt wrong to do so. As cheery as y/n sounded, there was something off.

“Are you okay?” Richie blurted out, but he couldn’t help himself. It was in his nature; always looking out for y/n; always taking care of her.

“I’m fine, Tozier.” She laughed but he could tell it was fake. The way her voice was still summer in the crisp of fall was fake. The whole call was fake. “You just love checking in on me don’t ya.” Another giggle left the speaker—covering the cracks in her voice, or a sob.

“No, really.” His hand left the phone—his shoulder and cheek propping the device up against his ear—and reached for the gearshift. “How are you?”

Static. But Richie had been over at her place thousands of times before—not needing to ask for her address or pull out a map for directions. And Richie was right (he was always right) when he burst through the wooden door of y/n’s small, but somehow spacious, Los Angeles apartment.

“y/n, I know you’re in there,” Richie said, followed by three curt knocks. His shoulder slumped against the door and he sighed. “y/n, don’t make me go all big bad wolf on your little ol’ door.” He looked down to see the welcoming mat where guests were supposed to wipe their shoes off.

There’s No Place Like Home

A short laugh bounced off the walls from inside and Richie took that as his queue. His hand had a firm grasp around the bronze doorknob, refreshing from the California air. He jangled it, only for the structure to not budge, like it didn’t give a damn that he had to get inside.

“Dammit, y/n/n, get off your goddamned high horse and open the door.”

Richie was never one for words, but at these, the lock broke in and in slipped Richie. It was as if the door had heard his cries and complied—feeling sorry for the boy. But the mysteriousness of y/n’s apartment door didn’t matter when Richie’s eyes caught y/n’s figure—or lack of one. She sat on the leather couch which was a moving present from her parents (“We know how expensive it can be; being a young adult with college expenses. Wow, to think, my baby’s all grown up.”), wrapped in a blanket, burrito style. Even fro six feet away (approximately), Richie could see the tears welling in her eyes and the snot spilling from her nose.

“Richie Tozier, can you ever learn to take a goddamn hint?” y/n’s voice was far too weak to show any sign of malicious intent. He stood in front of her, tentative but also caring. He wanted to help. He just didn’t know how.

“I am taking the hint.” Richie sat down next to the bundle of blankets. He sat close, so close that if y/n’s feet were on the floor, his knees would’ve touched hers. She could smell his mint deodorant and cheap cologne; or maybe she was just so used to having him next to her, that was what she knew he smelled like. y/n smelled like this month’s body wash. Orange blossom. She must’ve taken an extra-long soak today. She always did when something was wrong. “I know you want me here, toots. Otherwise, you wouldn’t’ve called.”

Richie was right and at the moment y/n hated him for being able to read her mind.

She was about to tell him off but a strangled cry left her lips instead. Richie didn’t need to ask what was wrong to know what was wrong. Besides, it would be cruel—condescending—to put a filter over his voice the way you’d talk to a terrier or a baby and ask what’s wrong?

It was clear what was wrong. Judging by the two-hour-long bath she had taken beforehand and off-brand, empty Ben & Jerry’s container on her coffee table: her piece of shit boyfriend had just dumped her. Richie never liked Brandon, y/n’s so-called (now ex) boyfriend. But it could’ve been the other way around, too. His over-gelled head was always stuck in his Levi 512’s and the only time Richie saw that pompous smirk leave his lips was when he walked in on him and y/n kissing. Gag. But y/n had the right to be upset about getting dumped—even if it was by a perpetual twerp who never passed up the chance to brag about his perfect SAT score (wake up, buddy, we all got into the same college).

Richie sat waiting for a reply he was never going to get because y/n was too busy blowing her nose into the sleeve of her robe.

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Carefully, Richie unwrapped y/n from the cocoon, similarly to how a cautious child unwraps their presents. “You don’t need Brandon. You don’t need anyone.” It was true. She didn’t need anyone, and if anything people needed her. “You’re y/n.” He spoke the two words with such sureness—confidence. She was y/n, and if that’s not enough for them to see, then they’re delusional.

“How do you know?” She asked. Even if it was just a college boyfriend—her first college boyfriend—it still hurt like hell. The thought of being not wanted. Knowing it was her; that she couldn’t just fix whatever her lover didn’t like that ended up pushing him off the edge. He just didn’t like her.

Of course, she didn’t love Brandon. She didn’t love the way his hair was always stiff and she couldn’t comb her fingers through it the way she did Richie’s. She didn’t love him finding an excuse to say hello to the next blonde he saw whenever they went to parties together. She didn’t love Brandon, and Brandon apparently didn’t love her. But if Brandon didn’t love her, then who would?

Maybe the answer was staring her down right in front of her, or pressing against her shoulder as Richie bent down to pick up the empty ice cream carton. “You are y/n, right?” Richie asked in attempts to bring her spirits up.

And he did.

y/n’s eyes crinkled as she smiled and she chocked on her breath at the laugh she tried to hold in. “Do you think I’m an impostor?”

“Who knows?” Richie sat back down. His shoulder brushed her covered one and his head fell back to look at the ceiling. “Plastic surgery is pretty popular these days. Especially in La City of Angels.” He turned to face her now—a tear-free y/n that stared back at him. Her eyes were much lighter than before and her skin looked like it had just been kissed. By who?

“You’re an angel,” y/n said unexpectedly. Well, this was a turn of events. Richie managed to suppress his cough—a usual reaction that’d take place when he was surprised.

He pulled on the collar of his band-tee (Rock On, AC/DC!) because it was all of the sudden hard to breathe in this small LA apartment of y/n’s. He felt his pulse quicken under the skin of his wrist and neck. A line of sweat was forming beneath his browbone. Oftentimes, it was hard to differentiate if California was undergoing an unforeseen heatwave or if Richie was just drawing a fever. But summer had passed and Richie hand’t gotten sick in years, even if it was just a head cold.

Richie sat there, speechless, and wondered. He wondered why, out of all the nicknames in the world, he hasn’t called y/n baby yet. It was always babe or honey, but never baby. Why was that? Hypothetically, he could call her that. He could call her a lot of things—like his. So why didn’t he? Why had he never asked y/n out?

But it occurred to him, as y/n tucked a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, that y/n was hurting. She needed a friend and nothing more. A brother, per se. He could sense her lean in. For a kiss, perhaps? But Richie was quick to dodge and cup her face in his large palm. An intimate action, sure, but their relationship was far from it.

“Look, y/n/n.” His breath hit her face. It was warm and felt like home. “You’re hurting right now.” His thumb rubbed along her jawline. “We’re just friends, right?”

“Friends,” y/n echoed back to him. And while she wasn’t completely convinced with the words coming from Richie Tozier’s mouth, she’d agree with him for his sake.

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

4 with reddie?

4. Teacher/Single Parent AU

* * * * *

Richie had been an elementary school teacher for five years now and he had had his fair share of crazy kids and kids who were absolutely amazing. Yet, none of them quite stood out to him in the way that Lacey Kaspbrak did. She was a spunky, yet shy little girl who was also very smart and could learn something on the spot. She was always willing to learn new things, even if she didn’t understand at first, which Richie was in awe of. Lacey wouldn’t give up easily.

One of the things that Richie absolutely hated though, was the way Lacey was bullied. He had reported it many times, even spoken to the youngster privately about coming to him if she felt unsafe, but she never did. Richie knew it was because the girls who were tormenting her were threatening to make things worse if she ratted on them.

He had even tried to catch them out in the act, but was either too slow, too fast or there wasn’t enough evidence to report the incident. It was all very frustrating, as they were eight years old. No eight year old should be bullying, or getting bullied, it was as simple as that.

When the first parent/teacher conference rolled around, Richie was more than ready to discuss the incidents with Lacey’s parents, to ask if they had noticed anything at home or if Lacey had mentioned anything to them about troubles at school. He had all the paperwork sat out of his desk when the door knocked and a man, no older than him, walked in. He looked rather flushed in the face and the first thing that came to Richie’s mind when he got a proper look was; Fuck, that man is cute! Cute, cute, cute!

“I’m so sorry I’m late Mr Tozier, I had to drop Lacey off and then there was traffic. I hope I didn’t hold you back too much?” The man stammered out and Richie’s eyes widened just a little bit more. Oh no, oh god no. This was Lacey’s dad? Fuck, this wasn’t good.

Regaining composure, Richie cleared his throat and shook his head, motioning to the seat across from his desk, “Not at all, please take a seat.” He waited until he was seated across from him and smiled, “Mr Kaspbrak…”

“Eddie, please.” Eddie interrupted, a smile on his own face. “I hate it when people call me my last name. Please just call me Eddie.” He rested his arms on the desk and took a breath. “How has Lacey been? I haven’t had any calls about her, so I’m assuming everything has been okay with her schooling?”

Richie tensed a little and he bit his lip, “I was hoping to be able to talk to you, not about Lacey’s schooling as she is the smartest girl in her class and is always willing to learn, but about some issues between her and her peers.” He watched as Eddie’s face fell a little and he quickly continued, “Have you noticed anything in Lacey’s behaviour since the beginning of the school year?”

“Not...not that I am aware of,” Eddie whispered, shaking his head, a pained look on his face. “What’s been going on? Please tell me, I need...I need to know what’s going on with my little girl.” Richie felt his heart ache at the sight of Lacey’s dad looking so...distraught at the thought of his daughter being tormented.

It took a few moments of composure before Richie began to explain the ins and outs of what had been happening in his classroom. He also explained that he had tried on many attempts to report it to higher management, but there simply was not enough proof. “She’s strong, Eddie,” Richie finally breathed. “I can see that she doesn’t want to let them bother her, but I can also see that it does. A teacher shouldn’t have favourites, but I have a soft spot for Lacey, and I want her to be happy in my class.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment before he ran his fingers through his hair, “Things haven’t exactly been easy for us...ever. I’m not sure if you were made aware of our situation when Lacey transferred here?” He asked and Richie shook his head in a negative. “Lacey’s mother didn’t want her when she was born, and I was with my ex husband at the time, we were young and naive and she was a friend of a friend. So we offered to adopt her. Everything went swimmingly and Lacey became a part of our family...of my family. My ex didn’t really want anything to do with her, and I soon found out it was because he was seeing someone else behind my back. It was tough, and ugly, but we got a divorce with me gaining full custody of Lacey.” Eddie took another breath. “She was young, but these things stay with you no matter what and I’m sure it couldn’t be difficult for the other children’s parents to find out Lacey was being raised by an openly gay man.”

That seemed to strike a chord with Richie, and he felt a little sick. Slowly, he placed his hands on the table and tried to force a smile onto his face. “Well, I certainly hope that isn’t the case, considering their children are being taught by an openly gay man.”

Eddie’s eyes widened a little and he leaned back on the chair, “I see.” He pursed his lips. “You’ll take care of her...right? When she’s in your class? You’ll look out for her.”

Richie nodded his head, “Of course I will.” This time his smile was genuine. “Put it like this, Eddie, if Lacey was to snap and actually hit one of those kids? I will just so happen to be looking the other way at that time, leaving no credible witnesses.”

That managed to get a laugh out of Eddie and Richie felt a sense of pride and he had managed to turn his frown upside down. “You know, Lacey talks about you all the time. I was honestly a little nervous about meeting the infamous Mr Tozier. She has never had a relationship with any of her previous teachers like she does with you.”

“Well then, it must be my amazing charm and my skill with sock puppets,” Richie winked and Eddie burst into laughter. “If you want...and feel free to say no, but we can always meet up occasionally. To talk about Lacey and her progress. Over coffee maybe?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “Sounds like you're asking me out on a date, Mr Tozier.”

Shaking his head, Richie leaned a tiny bit closer, “Not at all, this is highly professional. Anyway, I can't date the parents of my students.”

“Ahh,” Eddie nodded his head slowly before pushing the chair back. It was the end of the session and Richie had another three parent’s to see that night. “Well, I’ll think about it.” He pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling something down. His number. “It was nice to meet you, Mr Tozier.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Eddie. All mine.”

* * * * *

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @feldmancorey @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kaspzier @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madidraw @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @ransonelovebot @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster  @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead @xcottoncandykatx 

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie + accidental fake dating part two | part one |

“Wait...” Eddie pulled away from Richie’s mouth, breathing heavily like he was about to have an asthma attack. Thankfully, he was being held upright by both Richie and the pool water they were both resting in. He lowered his head to Richie’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath, “I just- I need...a moment.”

“Thank you,” he didn’t need to look up to see the smug smile on Richie’s face. Eddie just about had the energy to laugh.

“I’m- it’s a lot...you know...the injury...”

“Don’t ruin it,” Richie said playfully, running a wet hand up and down Eddie’s back soothingly. The shorter man chuckled softly, winding his hands around Richie’s waist to keep himself grounded. Richie was glad it was a hot day, at least he could say that was the reason for his flushed face.

“Do we really...need to practice this? I mean, it’s your parents...they won’t wanna see that.”

Practising. A dumb idea, really, but Richie was nothing if not a fucking idiot. Then again, Eddie had agreed for some reason and before he knew they were making out. It was fantastic. It felt right, it felt real. Only it wasn’t. He glanced down at Eddie, noticing his breathing was calming down again.

“We can stop, I guess.”

“I just mean...we need to be used to each other,” Eddie lifted his head, running his wet hands up and down Richie’s arms. Being held by Richie was fast becoming one of his favourite things, “like...casual intimacy. Holding hands, pet names, cuddling, shit like that. And Eddie Spaghetti doesn’t count,” he added quickly as Richie opened his mouth.

“Fine,” Richie gently disentangled himself from Eddie, leaning against the side of the pool, “race you to the other side for a massage?”

“I can’t move that fast!” Eddie spluttered, looking between Richie and the other side of the pool; it suddenly looked much further away than before. He turned back to Richie, frowning, “and I won’t be able to apply any pressure on top of you,” unable to resist, Richie smirked and Eddie rolled his eyes, folding his arms childishly, “shut up.”

"Alright, alright,” Richie held up both hands in surrender, still smiling, “I’ll walk you to the other side and give you a massage.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

"You can make it up to me somehow.”

Sighing, Eddie agreed and, without warning, Richie carefully scooped him up bridal style in his arms and began walking the two of them around the pool. Eddie shook his head fondly, not even bothering to call Richie an idiot.

-

“Eddie,” Maggie wrapped her arms around him, managing to pour all of her motherly love into the hug despite the fact she was trying her best to avoid his wound. She pulled away a moment later, taking his face in her hands, “you’re looking much better. I knew all this sun would be good for you.”

“I feel better,” Eddie said honestly, beaming as Maggie let him go, moving aside so he could shake hands with Went. They looked almost alike, both of them leaning on walking sticks, “it’s good to see you again.”

Richie, who had been busy carrying his parents suitcases into the spare bedroom, reappeared, slinging an arm around Eddie, “so I guess you’re dying to hear about the whole boyfriend thing so you can put him off.”

“Rich, Eddie’s known you since you were stuffing socks in your underwear,” Went said pointedly, patting his son’s shoulder as he passed him on his way to the house, “if that didn’t make him leave, nothing will.”

“I knew that’s what you were doing,” Eddie looked as though he’d won the lottery, smiling as a prominent blush spread across Richie’s face. He elbowed him playfully, “are they still there now, huh?”

"If you’re lucky, you’ll find out.”

Eddie bowed his head to hide his blush as Richie led them towards the house; he was sure Richie was joking but the thought alone was enough to get him hot under the collar. Maggie and Went had already made themselves comfortable by the time they’d returned to the lounge. Whilst Richie fixed his parents’ drinks, Eddie was left alone with them. He smiled awkwardly, settling into Richie’s chair. The two of them were smiling at him in return, so warmly Eddie really felt like a part of their family.

“You know, we starting to give up on our Rich,” Went began, taking one of Maggie’s hands in his. He accepted the beer from his son when he returned, nodding at Eddie, “you’ve got a keeper here, son.”

“Dad, I am literally the luckiest guy in the world,” Richie set his mom’s coffee on the table in front of her, winking sweetly at Eddie as he did. The other man stared at him, trying to figure him out; either Richie was a good actor and needed to get into TV immediately or he genuinely felt that way. It was most likely the first thing and Eddie was getting his hopes up for nothing. But he didn’t object to Richie kissing his hand gently, perching on the arm of his chair, “not only is Eddie, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, he’s been here for the best and worst times. I’ve never been this happy.”

Maggie chuckled, shaking her head, “who knew you were such a romantic.”

“You give me too much credit, babe,” Eddie tried the pet name, deciding he didn’t completely hate it. Judging by the look that briefly crossed Richie’s face, he didn’t either. He squeezed his arm, “I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, jeez,” Went grimaced playfully, swigging his beer dramatically, “I swear, I’m gonna sleep in the backyard if you’re gonna be yucking it up the whole weekend.”

"I thought that’s why you’re here,” Richie folded his arms, raising an eyebrow at his nosy parents, “to bear witness to the greatest love story ever told.”

“Yes, yes, you can tell me all about it as we get dinner ready,” Maggie practically shooed him into the kitchen, turning to her husband as she followed after her son, “your dad wants to talk to Eddie about his damned car, anyway.”

Went’s eyes lit up almost immediately, “oh, yeah. Richie tells me you’re good with cars.”

“Um, I guess.”

-

As family dinners went, this one went rather pleasantly, considering the guests were being lied to about the state of their son’s relationship. A relationship Richie was beginning to wonder why it was fake. He and Eddie clearly cared about each other. He’d spent literal hours talking about dumb cars with his dad whilst Richie had gushed endlessly about Eddie to his mom. She’d just laughed at him, calling him silly.

Throughout the dinner, Richie had found himself gazing over at Eddie, watching him. He’d caught him once or twice and, each time, he’d smiled warmly. He helped Richie wash up, assisted Maggie with dessert and shared a beer with Went. Richie soon realised he was head over heels in love with him. And so were his parents. More than once they’d commented how cute they were together.

The four of them settled down to watch a movie after dinner which involved Eddie more or less in Richie’s lap, resting his head casually on Richie’s shoulder. He seemed perfectly content whilst Richie was freaking out on the inside. He wondered if it was too much to stroke Eddie’s hair; he soon thought, fuck it, if Eddie said anything, he’d blame it on his parents being there. But he didn’t say a word. In fact, Eddie seemed to enjoy the feeling of Richie’s fingers combing through his hair, if the soft sighs he was letting out were anything to go by.

But all of that was nothing compared to bed time.

Richie had completely forgotten about the bedroom situation, or rather hadn’t considered it. His parents had his room. That meant he had to share with Eddie, like they expected. He seemed much calmer about the situation than he was. They bade Maggie and Went goodnight and headed to ‘their’ room. Richie paced the room nervously as Eddie used the en suite bathroom, brushing his teeth and changing into his pyjamas. Should he get some blankets and sleep on the floor? Or offer to sleep on the couch? What the fuck was he doing?

Just as Richie debated running out of the room for the safety of his recliner chair, Eddie emerged from the bathroom wearing his blue silk pyjamas. They were comfortable and didn’t agitate his wound like some harsher fabrics. He looked so adorable Richie couldn’t help but stare at him. He must have been staring for a long time because Eddie was eyeing him curiously.

“Um, do you need to-”

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he blurted out, already heading for the door. He tripped over his own feet in his haste, stumbling over his words in his panic, “it’s not- I get it, I know you need space- Mom and Dad won’t-”

“Richie,” Eddie giggled, holding out his hand in invitation, “it’s okay. Really. I really want you to stay.”

Richie still hesitated, eyeing the empty spot next to Eddie. There was plenty of room but he would never forgive himself if he hurt Eddie, even accidentally. He was quite the octopus when he slept.

“I know we didn’t talk about sharing the bed-”

“Richie, shut up and get in bed.”

Well, that did it. Eddie always knew how to shut him up and stop him overthinking everything. He shuffled over to the other side of the bed and slowly peeled back the covers, sliding into the bed. Eddie switched off the lamp and Richie stayed as still as could, as far away from Eddie as he could manage. After a moment, he heard Eddie sigh.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, I’m trying to sleep,” he answered innocently. He was in the most uncomfortable position ever but he lived in hope. Eddie was having none of it. He carefully rolled over to face him, an eyebrow raised.

“You know what I love about you, Rich?” He finally looked at Eddie, at his big kind eyes and his lovely smile. He’d do anything for him. Eddie reached out to pat Richie’s arm, “you’ve never treated me like I’m fragile. Not when we were kids and certainly not when we reunited in Derry. Don’t start now, yeah.”

Eventually, Richie sighed and removed his glasses. He shuffled further into the bed and underneath the covers. Satisfied, Eddie turned away from him and waited hopefully. Finally, he felt Richie slide up next to him, his arms carefully winding around him protectively. That’s more like it, he thought.

“Alright, asshole, you win,” Eddie chuckled and was about ready to go to sleep when Richie spoke again, his breath fanning across Eddie’s neck, “I liked being your boyfriend today.”

"We’re still pretending this is fake, are we?”

“You’d deprive me of asking you out properly?” Richie teased, kissing the back of Eddie’s neck tenderly, “I knew you were a bitch but, damn, that’s cruel.”

“I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Richie grinned, promising to hold Eddie to his word. The two fell asleep together, arms entwined and peaceful smiles on their faces.