#also a little of Ed having to just barely sit with the discomfort of what he did to Izzy and what the physical consequences of it all are rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-need-air · 3 years

Text

"Dude" — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader [P.2]

Word count: 6.7k;

[ Part 1 ]; [ Masterlist ]

The new message plastered on your phonescreen earned a small smile from you. After a couple of days of sitting together at the same table due to Mei dumping your lonely ass for her babies, Mina suggested to text just to keep in contact more often. Something you did not expect was to be thrown in a group text with her and her friends.

They were absolutely hilarious; until recently they found out you had decent grades and started asking for your assistance, bugging you to join their study sessions, adding something about Bakugou being an absolute beast whenever he tutors them.

Pinky: Aww sucks that you're not coming! You're missing out Bakugou strangling Kaminari lmfao

You rolled your eyes in amusement. Why of course he'd be doing that.

What a strange little man. He really was; just as you started sitting with them, he'd mainly mind his own business, wearing his normal resting gremlin face and poking his food as if he was practicing murder just for the sake of it. First he orders you to sit with them, then he turns into an antisocial bastard most of the times. Yet, somehow, lunch with them was delightful and you found yourself looking forward to spend time with them, hear about their amusing stories and to top it all, making fun of The Great Bakugou Katsuki turned the whole event into a whole different level of fun.

As you weren't completely oblivious, his wandering eyes were really hard to miss anyway; you'd catch his gaze from time to time and he'd look away, annoyed, grunting like the man-child he actually was. Infuriating; how your heart skipped every single time it happened and how you wanted to have those deep crimson orbs on you again and again.

One thing you did not want to do was to leave Mei to the side; whenever she couldn't hang out she would inform you and you'd find something else to entertain yourself with; in occasions you did march in her workshop and sat your royal ass down without permission. Like as you did today, sitting in silence, you enjoyed the normal machinery sounds and her focused hums as she worked with you by her side. It was calming. The much needed calmness that you craved.

It's been a couple of weeks after the glorious incident and you have been noticing how your classmates, mostly the popular ones, started giving you the stink eye; your spidey-senses very much aware that it had to be Midori's doing yet the girl was keeping a very low profile. The hairs on the back of your neck rising whenever you thought about her next step because this level of radio silence was suspicious.

Between your growing interest into the blond and the dread related to your nemesis, Mei stopped her hard work to frown at you.

"Something's on your mind?" She probed, adjusting her goggles better on her head. "You're awfully quiet~"

Through a small giggle, you nodded but took some time to answer. "I guess?"

"Let me rephrase that." She cleared her throat dramatically "Someone's on your mind?"

A sharp gasp left your lips, realization kicking in; you had Hatsume Mei's full attention for the first time ever. In the workshop. Where her babies were! About to point it out, she narrowed her eyes at you, zooming onto you.

"[Y/N]." It's all she needed to say before you looked down, mind on one person in particular, not noticing how your friend smiled fondly to herself as she placed her hands on her hips; she chuckled lightly.

"Mind sharing what's funny with the class, Mei?" You asked trying to decrypt her expression still locked on you. She shrugged and shook her head, her wild pink locks moving wildly.

"OI, WERD—" the brash voice interrupted itself in reconsideration. The owner of said voice clicked his tongue and entered her workspace with indifference, looking around. "My gauntlets fixed?" He asked, curiously checking the lone couch in the corner, then turning his glare at her.

Ignoring his question, Mei's inquisitive gaze locked on him. "Are you looking for someone?"

It was as if she pressed a Total Destruction button because even the hairs on his head spiked up more than normally as he threw her a bloodshot glare.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LOOK FOR [Y/N]?! I DON'T EVEN CARE WHERE—"

"I didn't mention [Y/N] at all though." she cheerily retorted, seeing his position stiffen even more.

"WHAT— WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT— WHO EVEN IS [Y/N]?!" Word-vomit took over; he was shaking at this point, panicked and cringing at his own mistake. "I'm SO FUCKING DONE with people giving me SHIT about that dumbass!" he kicked a table trying to prove a point but the girl was unimpressed.

"So you do know [Y/N]."

"YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK YOU, GOGGLES! Fucking bothersome assholes always buttin' in—" his voice started fading into the distance as he walked out, fuming with nerves.

She blinked before screaming "What about your gauntlets?" through a smile.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, GIVE ME—" he appeared once again, agitated.

A wave of lava filled your chest as she told you casually, even trying to copy the way he talked, making you laugh in exchange. You shouldn't feel that way, shouldn't you? It was ridiculous since he truly only insulted you and screamed in your general direction; well, it seems he screamed in every direction but it wasn't the point. The point was the warmth in your chest only gave you hope and the still functioning part of your brain begged to differ.

"He's a good guy." You whispered, suddently shy under Mei's knowing gaze.

And he called her Goggles too. You giggled fondly.

—

A few days later, wild gutural screams made you jolt from your desk in panic. You would've recognized that voice anywhere by now so you rushed towards the infirmary door just to find professor Aizawa and two cocoons made of his scarf behind him. His eyebrow was twitching and had a dark aura around him, eyes glowing menacingly but not directed to you.

"I'll fucking kill you—"

"But Kaccha—"

"Silence." The irritated and tired looking man said entering the room, dragging said cocoons behind him, knocking one in the door and pulling harder. You cringed, sure thinking he wasn't having a good day.

"OOF— What the shit was that?" The bundle started to shake uncontrollably which made you giggle. It stopped; halted and froze in place listening attentively as you tried to hide your laughter, trying not to annoy the teacher that seriously gave off a whole Done with life aura.

"You must be [L/N]." he pointed out, undoing one of the cocoons, a big fluffy broccoli like head appearing, big green eyes trying to focus.

"Yes, sir."

"They're beaten. Broken leg and broken rib. Can you heal them or should we wait for Recovery Girl?" The dark haired man went straight to business.

"I can handle that so no need to wait for her."

"Good. I'll leave them in your care." With a nod, he also released the blond, making him tumble and fall on his face. The poor guy groaned but bolted up with a raised fist.

"Behave." The older man said walking away, not really caring about Bakugou's heated muttering. The door shut gently and you found yourself looking at two boys; one fuming and avoiding your eyes, the other on the floor, staring up at you. His leg looked wonky so you fought back a face of discomfort before going to his aid.

"You." You pointed at Bakugou then at the bed. "Sit." A grin spread on your face as you used his words, meanwhile you leaned down to help Midoriya Izuku.

His eyes were absolutely intimidating, as if the boy tried to search within your soul as you helped him up.

"My name is [L/N] [Y/N] and I'm going to heal you today." He returned your smile with ease and nodded, his fluffy green hair shaking through the action.

"I'm—"

"Midoriya Izuku, yes. You're pretty popular, you know?" His face went all red, taken back by the fact.

Curses could be heard behind both; your hand was supporting Midoriya's weight as he only hopped ahead with his good leg, leaded towards a bed. Shuffling sounded too, still accompanied with another round of indistinguishable curses and grunts.

When the green-haired boy was securely placed, you turned towards the other, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed furthest away from Midoriya, pouting adorably.

"So you've got a broken rib, right?"

"What's it to you?" It was his turn to be a petty little shit and copy your words, still not looking up. His leg was shaking and his posture looked uncomfortable so it was not the time to get into your usual bickering.

"Lay down." He tsk-ed sharply. "Please." You pleaded, pursing your lips at his childish attitude. He finally snapped his eyes on you, just slightly widened in what could be surprise but you couldn't tell. All that mattered was that he ended up doing what you said. Though with more huffing, as if it bothered him immensely.

"Ya happy now?" He snapped.

"Very! Now—" you're taken back yet again by the intensity of those green eyes that looked between you and Bakugou with interest. "I'm gonna have to give you an anesthesic and adjust your leg back in place before healing you—"

Like a working bee, you ran around the infirmary getting your syringe ready, a little bit too nervous as two pair of eyes burned into your back.

"Where do you know each other from, Kacchan?" Izuku asked. Even if his leg hurt like a bitch, he couldn't help but be curious about the person Kacchan has been having lunch with for the past weeks; but what type of response could you get from the one and only?

"Mind your own damned fucking business!"

You sighed, irritated but the nickname didn't fly above your head. In all means, he shouldn't be screaming. He had a broken rib and he was screeching like an idiot. Didn't it hurt to even breathe?!

"Bakugou, you need to lay low and shut up."

There wasn't any time to play around; Midoriya behaved exemplary, just barely wincing at the syringe probing his knee but did not complain at all. The polar opposite of the blond beds away.

After letting the anesthetic to take effect, you moved towards the guy that's been living rent free in your head. He looked beaten up, had a bloody nose, open-wounded knuckles and shaky hands.

"Okay, I need you to relax." You whispered, trying to lift his tank-top but he stopped your wrist.

"The fuck yOu doing?!" his voice cracked momentarily while hyperventilating.

"Dude, take slow, steady breaths. In order to heal you I need to touch the skin closer to the wound." It wasn't entirely true but not exactly a lie either. After a pause for consideration he nodded but his eyes remained wary. "You've seen me do it before! Now show me where it hurts."

You needed concentration, focus, steady hands, rock-hard abs and tanned skin— Nooooo, [Y/N]!

All your might; all of it to act nonchalant and professional, to not fucking stare like a degenerate because he was absolutely built. But you couldn't help it. You couldn't help placing your palm on his ribs gently, instead of just the tip of your fingers as you normally would've needed. His sigh of relief made you incredibly giddy, feeling accomplished and fulfilled knowing you've done a great job for him. You also couldn't help healing his most visible wounds one by one instead of doing it all together in one single touch.

Were you flustered? Definitely and his attention only made it worse. You picked one of his hands and he spasmed away but ultimately gave in with a choked grunt; then grabbed the other and channeled your energy into his body.

Your heads were tilted downwards, both staring at how his knuckles healed slowly. What neither him or you noticed was how all his scratches and bruises all over him healed too, or the prying eyes of a third wheel that was already taking notes of your quirk.

"Okay." You whispered, not really wanting to let go. Your brain screamed Dishonor! but your heart skipped a beat, then another, then exploded when you lifted your gaze.

Crimson eyes looked at you in awe, wide and never this clear. They were shining too and you couldn't help but give his strong hands a squeeze, feeling in the calloused skin of his palm and wondered which one of you was shaking... He blushed then and opened his mouth, yet his brows furrowed as his focus shifted behind you.

"THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, PUNK?!"

Oh, yeah. Your other patient.

In a heartbeat you were by Midoriya's side and got to work, chest heavy and no words coming out of you. No snappy or cheeky retorts either, just trembling hands and warm cheeks. Only with murmurs you guided him through the procedure before healing him completely.

Dizziness overtook you; the downside of your quirk and something you've been training with Recovery Girl for the whole semester.

"That was amazing, [L/N]-san! Thank you!" The boy cheered, staring down at his leg in utter disbelief. His compliment made you grin, full and proud.

"Of course it was!" Your normal self surfaced.

"Fucking woo-hoo." Nevermind. Mood dropped and your face did too.

"Well, since you've been a good patient—" you start and ruffle through your bag "You get a lollipop!" Said candy was thrown in Midoriya's lap and he stared at it baffled. Meanwhile you turned towards the bane of your existence and raised a brow, shaking another lollipop in your hand. "You don't. This one is mine because I deserve it."

His angry, stupid and scandalized expression was everything you were looking for. Did you get out of your way to buy lollipops knowing Bakugou would end up in the infirmary sooner or later? Maybe. Was it worth it?

"What the fuck does that mean, dammit— I—" words caught in his throat as he choked with air, looking at the candy in your fingers with murderous intentions. Definitely worth it.

"Thank you?" Broccoli Boy asked but started unwrapping it, probably not to insult your kindness, and the whole interaction fueled Bakugou's anger. He snapped out of the bed and so did Midoriya, but one was marching towards you while the other just wanted to run away in fear, direction Exit.

"Gimme that shit!" He tried to grab it out of your grasp, but you moved away, laughing at his face.

"Midoriya has been nice and thanked me for the healing—" at this point he was boiling. "Say Thank you, [Y/N], you're amazing and awesome and—"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL IMMA SAY THAT, DUMBASS!" he was so sweet, the guy you liked; yeah, your sudden realization hit as he looked like a tomato ready to bite your head off and the only thing you could think was how adorable and sweet he was. All gurgling in rage, spitting cussed words left and right; dreamy, he was dreamy. He caught the lollipop from your hands, his scowl turning into a full blown victorious grin. So shiny... so bright... God, he was so handsome...

You're suddently falling in his arms in slow-motion, the world around you twisting and turning with him in the center of it all. Warmth engulfed your frame as you hit the most comfortable pillow of your life. His chest.

"Oi, [Y/—" he cursed, taking no time to place you on the bed with ease. "You okay?"

"W-What happened? Is she okay?" It seemed the famous Deku decided to remain for the spectacle.

"Get lost!"

Even if you wanted to pass out, his snaps wouldn't let you and with that thought you chuckled breathlessly. "I'm fine, I just need a nap after healing this much..." you assured into the air.

"Will you be okay, [Y/N]-san?" You turned your head until you spotted him and nodded through a smile but someone else answered for you.

"I see you took matters in your own hands." The sweet, gentle voice of your mentor put you to ease but scared poor Midoriya to the core as she appeared behind him at the door. Bakugou was still hovering over you in bed, not really knowing what to do. "You should leave [L/N] rest, boys." With tiny steps she walked around, not really paying any more attention to the scene.

The blond gave you a glance and pursed his lip, analyzing the candy in his hand. Through half-lidded eyes you saw him secure it in his fist and give you a nod. At this point everything was blurry.

"Thanks... or whatever." He didn't waste any time to bolt towards the door, his broad uncovered shoulders were the last thing you saw before closing your eyes in contempt.

"Kacchan, is [Y/N]-san your—?"

"MIND YOUR GODDAM—" the door shut close, making the room tremble and you giggled like a drunk fool.

—

Bakugou walked with his hands in his pockets, looking around with little interest as Dunce Face and Racoon Eyes blabbered without pause to breathe. Fuck, he was exhausted and the concept of shoving food down his throat sounded fucking fantastic. His insides turned and twisted knowing you'd be meeting them soon.

"Yo, isn't that [Y/N]?" Like a flash, his head bolted in the direction Denki pointed at and before he spotted you, the blond already wanted to punch himself in the jaw. Why the fuck is he acting like that? The answer faded in his mind as the scene unfolded in front of him.

—

"You're such a fucking bitch, you know that, [Y/N]?" Arms crossed, you placated the poor first year that was whispering behind you.

"Wow, Midori, so original." With a dead tone and rolling eyes from you, the white haired demon only twisted her face in disgust. "My feelings are hurt."

"Who do you think you are? You're a fucking nobody, [Y/N]! You think you're doing any good here? Go kill yourself!"

"And give you the satisfaction? No, not happening, you fork-tongued lizard." Your nails looked interesting.

Her pale purple eyes got ignited and her diminute frame puffed, like a rabid little mole-rat ready to bite someone. And just like that, she took a deep breath and started yapping and barking. "YOU'RE BETTER DEAD ANYWAY, YOU WHORE! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING! NOW EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT ME! ABOUT HOW YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! DIE ALREADY!"

Sadly you didn't have any cookies on since you definitely felt like shoving one in her fanged, venomous mouth and patting her head for the effort. Your lips turned oh, so slowly into a grin, enjoying her reaction way too much.

"That's nice. Now can you like, I don't know, go back to making potions with your coven or some crap? Leave the kid alone—"

"This pathetic little shit was talking about me! ME!" her screech hurt your ears so you covered them before you turned to the kid to just see him standing there, petrified.

"Did you try to summon Satan and she appeared instea—?"

"I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOUR CRAP, YOU—" she pushed you but grasped your uniform, a ripping sound following. "UGLY—" nothing prepared you to get attacked by her. "FAT—" she raised her palm. "WHORE!"

No way in hell you were going to back down, instead you clenched your jaw and got ready to block it and finish the fight. She never remotely attended to hit you in a somewhat public place as she was a careful witch, always brewing something in that rotten brain of hers and making sure to keep her sweet appearance on point for the public.

You blinked.

"That was insane!"

The scenery in front of you suddently changed with that one single blink and a tall blond mass of muscle just popped out of nowhere. It knocked the air out of your lungs for a moment and seeing him staring down at her with such hatred, holding her wrist high in the air made you feel immense relief, much to your own surprise.

Were you that tense before?

"Midori-chan, I didn't know you were this rotten." Kaminari appeared in your field of vision too but got ignored by the girl. Her only goal was to free herself from Bakugou's grip but he wouldn't bulge.

"Y-You got it all wrong, Bakugou-s-san!"

Everyone stood there silent, utterly disgusted with her attempt to even try to twist reality.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He warned and those words rumbled deep, threat held within.

"We heard it all, Midori." You shook in place, twisting to see Mina by the kid's side, patting his back. After being used to seeing her easy-going attitude it was only natural to be amazed by her somber tone and serious manner.

Why were you so relieved? kept creeping in your mind. Why?

He then threw her wrist out of his grasp and bared his teeth in her direction, globes so bloodshot scrutinizing her. He oozed rage and fury and was combusting in place. But he did not scream. Bakugou Katsuki did not scream for once when he started talking, instead he growled his words, each with care and clarity.

"If i ever fucking hear you talking like that to anyone ever again I will— fucking— break you." you could hear his teeth grit, the sound making you shiver both in terror and excitement. "NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE! I BETTER NOT FUCKING SEE YOU OR HEAR ABOUT YOU EVER AGAIN!" she yelped, fluttering her tears away and scurrying so fast it could've been comical.

Bakugou then spun to study you, chest raising and falling heavily. You couldn't descypher his appearance at the moment; there was the aggravation, the outrage, the burning flame in his orbs but also... Uncertainty? Guilt? Shame? It wiped off his face before you could figure it out.

"We're taking him to talk to a professor about what happened." Mina's voice faded in the distance. He nodded at Kaminari, who was behind you, and got a nod in response plus a pair of thumbs up, and with that they were gone.

He still tried to control himself, but as soon as you parted your lips to say anything at this point, he snarled into the nothingness. "THAT FUCKING BITCH—"

"Bakugou..."

"FOR HOW LONG?" he then screamed at you, malice gone but tone just as rough and loud.

"For how long what?" You said calmly while also noticing and adjusting the ripped sleeve of your uniform. He ran his palm over his face, eyeing it too.

"For how fucking long has this been going?"

"Oh, her—" there was this pressure to say it out loud, to confirm what it really was, like saying it out loud would give it weight, importance...

"Her bullshit, yeah." he didn't force it either, thankfully.

"Since we were in middle-school." you shrugged, chest and neck aching without an apparent reason. You cleared your throat.

"Stop that— Stop that fucking shit. Don't do that." He got close to you in a single step and you had to look up at him, feeling so small out of a sudden by his side. You smiled, as you taught yourself to do whenever things got tough.

"Do what?" It came out shaky, too shaky for your own taste but he was so close.

"Act like it doesn't fucking matter! Like it's no big fucking deal!" His breath fanned your face.

"I mean..." you started shrugging again but he stopped the action, palms holding your shoulders in place as he gave you a pissed off look. "It doesn't really matt—"

"YES, IT FUCKING DOES!"

His fingers held you in the spot as he inspected your features with a clenched jaw and classic furrowed brow. Flames erupted in your ribcage at his words and you couldn't even breathe anymore.

You licked your lips, not sure if you could say the next words but the fact that he focused on the action too attentively gave you the push needed. "What's it to you?"

His breath hitched, fanning over your face as he stiffened. Deep crimson waved between your own orbs and your lips—

Those flames? The flames that burned your inside? They were spreading throughout your body rapidly, the epicenter at the spot where his thumb caressed your skin at the edge of your shoulder, just touching the start of your collarbone. Even through the layer of fabric you felt it, as tiny as it was, but he did not do anything, just stood there with red tinted cheeks in daze. Much like you were.

"Thank you for saving me today, Bakugou." You whispered and he just nodded, still enthralled with your lips. At least you knew he was somewhat still there with you. Involuntarily, you bit your lower lip, just a little, smiling softly, taking the smallest step towards him; the corner of his lip turned up slightly—

"[Y/N]! Director Nezu wants to talk to you too!"

The spell was broken; you yelped into him, grabbing his shirt for support and checked your surroundings. A waving hand caught your attention; Kaminari was signaling you to go to him then froze and started running away; little did you know someone was sending him a death glare.

You cleared your throat, still warm and fuzzy from head to toe and separared from the blond that caught you in his arms. Bakugou seemed to have noticed the position too because he jerked away a step back and looked completely out of place.

Ridiculous. And hilarious, looking anywhere but you and still made no attempt to move. Neither did you, instead opting to hide a giggle.

Because you felt warm, tingly, all while he was a complete gremlin, sweet in his own personalized way, in which he cared for you, he defended you.

And you're in disbelief because how come this guy, this adorable, blushing porcupine with anger issues made you feel so soft and fragile? How did you end up in this situation and how can you stay in it forever?

"What's so fucking funny, hah?" There wasn't any bite to what could've been an aggressive wording, just hidden tenderness. He fought a smile too and had the audacity to try to act annoyed. Sadly, you had to go, so you shook your head and took a step back.

Bakugou understood, so he nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll see how later, ok?" You promised and he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Now you had his ear in full view for you to see the tips reddened too. You want to melt, even coo at the sight, but you really did have to go. However, you couldn't leave without sending him a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, whatever." His jaw sinked a little in the collar of his shirt as he stomped away too.

—

The whole afternoon was spent talking to a counselor and to the principal himself about a problematic individual. The first year student was encouraged by your new friends to report it as they escorted him to safety and soon an internal investigation started; maybe, possibly because of you.

Why were you so relieved?

Because they listened to you. Because they believed you. Because you didn't have to prepare yourself every single morning to take verbal hits from all directions. Because you've been given a voice, unlike your old school where everything was brushed off; "It's your word against hers" and much more bullshit. No, this time was real and they proved it by listening to every single word you said.

You were dropped at your dorms just before 9 P.M. and it was too late to meet anyone at the point. But it wasn't important; the moment you landed on your bed a smile broke on your face, a few tears fell and you had the best sleep in forever.

—

The air changed. The aura around your class switched. Midori was clearly missing, which instantly turns a bad day into a fantastic one, but it wasn't only that. Students were called, one by one, again and again interrupting class and took hours to come back. Meanwhile the Divas in particular looked concerned, another great view to enjoy now and until the rest of time.

It was obvious why this was happening and you never felt this much peace and satisfaction. Even so, you started to feel overwhelmed because people suddently started greeting you. The people that weren't in Midori's toxic and constricted entourage.

They said your name! Without hatred! The school's goldenboy's name, Kaminari Denki, was dropped again and again too. It seems he just casually started mentioning what he witnessed the day before and you suddently felt the need to hug him tight. Gossip spread like wild fire thanks to him, after all.

Maybe you fell into a parallel universe but you couldn't bring yourself to care, you just waltzed on the hallways after the bell rang, wanting to go get some food, then hide at Mei's workshop for some recharging. Another part of you wanted to meet the explosive boy too, though.

In all honesty, it didn't matter where you ended. You were in an incredible mood.They talked to you and it was exhausting but nice!

Was this what it felt in horror movies when the demon-child with rotating head and projectile vomit was finally exorcized? Was the curse really released for good?

As you floated in the skies, high on life and what-not, you turned the corner just to run nose straight into a wall. Your brain decided to take a break for the day, it seems, and you genuinely hoped nobody saw you march head first into— It wasn't a wall, but a boy that gave you a raised brow and narrowed eyes.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, dumbass."

"Great to see you too!" you chippered, walking around him, knowing for a fact his attitude wouldn't be able to piss you off—

"What's with the idiotic expression?" Nevermind, he can go fuck himself. Yet you smiled because you're a Godsend angel and that's what winged saints do.

"Just really happy." You shrugged, walking away with ease and tried to bite a bigger smile off your face when you noticed him turning to walk with you. "What are you doing on this side of the campus?" You inquired.

"Came to walk you to lunch or whatever." Well, damn, that made you halt in surprise. He's behind you, staring out the window with disinterest but froze when he saw your dumbfounded face. "WHAT? IT WAS IN MY WAY, OK? Want me to leave? I can leave! You can fuck off—" You placated your hands and started laughing.

"No, no—" Your eyes glint. "It's really sweet of you." You said, awaiting his reaction with mischief.

He first choked on air, like one normally does, and then showed the worst allergic reaction to mere words. "SW—! THAT'S NOT— I'M NOT— YOU— I— NO—" in no time you're crackling like a deranged witch, adoring every single second of the show he was pulling. He was basically howling and your laughter actually infuriated him more.

"FUCK OFF!" Your amusement calmed down as you studied him, his puffed cheeks, red eyes avoiding you; with a few stomped steps he placed himself ahead of you but made no attempt to stand you up and go be a hermit somewhere else.

Bakugou Katsuki. Ash blond hair, broad back, pink ears... Swears like a sailor, is all bark and and all bite, except with his friends. Has a big heart...

"Something strange is happening." You find yourself saying.

"Hah?" He glances back.

"People have been acting weird." That stops him.

"They better not be fucking messin' with you—"

"No, on the contrary, they're nice to me..." you assured, voice faint as his comment repeated in your mind and your chest warmed up once again because of him.

They better not be fucking messin' with you.

"Good." He says and you can't bite your tongue.

"You're a good guy, Bakugou."

He gives you a face. "Hah? Now you fucking notice?!" But he's grinning at the end of the sentence, cocky and so full of himself and you'd lie if you said you didn't consider him incredibly handsome. Although it seems he did not get the message.

"No. I mean it for real. You really are a good guy." He grunts like he hurt himself in his own confusion, staring stupidly at you, slightly blushing. "You're gonna be such a great hero too." Mouth agape to try to answer, he just gives you plate eyes and nothing else. On the other hand you genuinely expected more explosive reactions but this seemed to have broken him for some good seconds. He stared and watched and stood there like an idiot in front of you, making you want to both bury yourself in your own embarrassment and laugh at him.

You opted to look up at the ceiling, flustered and amused, yesterday's events suddently washing over you; they never really left your thoughts but now all the feelings decided to come visit once again.

"Oi—" he better not ruin it. "Wh— The fuck you kissing my ass for?!" You breathe out, long and loud for him to understand how stupid he sounded and stalked ahead; only food could save the day he's been actively ruining and that's what you were gonna get. He followed your rushed steps with cusses and questions until he grabbed your wrist to slow your pace. "Slow down, dumbass!"

The issue was that his obnoxiously loud voice caught then attention of some students that were just minding their own business.

"Is that Bakugou Katsuki?" Earning a groan from him as if it wasn't his fault!

"—with [L/N] [Y/N]?"

"Are they holding hands?!"

"So they're really together?" You cringe in embarrassment.

"Is that a confession?!" No, no, absolutely not happening. You rush out of the scene, gut burning, the boy on your toes cursing and mumbling whatevers but you didn't reach far until he talks. At least he had the decency of stopping you at an empty spot before giving you a heart attack.

"This is when you confess— or some fucking— dumb shit like that." Even without seeing him, back turned and absolutely petrified, you heard the cocky vibration in his tone that was sprinkled with some light stuttering.

Son of a bitch. That prinkly ass cocky fuck. That absolutely handful of a sea urchin—

You checked the closest stairway, your nearest exit and pathway to your salvation but something in that attitude of his just made you shake as you covered your face and laugh.

"You're... You're the worst." You mumble in disbelief but the grin that almost broke your face got even bigger as he choked and inhaled sharply.

"Hah?! Wasn't I the fucking best a minute ago?!"

"I did not say tha—"

"Same shit!" He bites when you glanced on him through your fingers. Your skin was burning so hot it would've been mortifying if he didn't look just as rattled. The view managed to calm your nerves and spike them at the same time.

"You're the worst..." Finally uncovering your face, he takes in your grin and visibly calms his fuming yet remains just as discomposed. "—and I like you."

Still, you cover your mouth because the blond in front of you started combusting and it was glorious to watch. Hell, you felt like grabbing a snack and watching him go through all those feelings that slapped his face on repeat. First his eyes widened, the teasing from before forgotten, then his skin, already splashed with red transformed completely into the same color, so deep it in resemblance with his eyes, eyes that were reading into you intensely. He went rigid too and as time passed and passed and he did not move, the only thing left was to break him out of his misery. Yes, break him.

"This is when you say it back."

He snapped. "I— DON'T FUCKING— DON'T FUCKING MAKE ME SAY EMBARRASSING SHIT LIKE THAT!" Birds flew away in one mile radius, windows trembled, your eardrums cried for mercy and you hid your smile because even through deafening volume, Bakugou Katsuki did not deny it. A zoo totally high on crystal meth started a revolution in your insides and the feeling threatened to burst out at any moment.

This is it. This ball of emotional constipation was taking your breath away while cussing you after you confessed and all you wanted to do was to squeal... What have you become?

But you said nothing, just stared with your hand covering your mouth, taking in the boy that looked like he wanted to throw fists with you, bared teeth and all, and also simultaneously die of a stroke.

"I—" he tried, you had to give him credit because he really did try. Like a challenge, like he wasn't going to back down, he gave his best and not without looking like it killed him inside. "F—" cuss word got stuck in his throat when you couldn't help a scoff. Suddently the show comes to an end when he halts, gives you a glare and takes a deep breath. For a moment you feared he'd walk away. Oh, how wrong you were because deep down you had to know he did not back down easily.

"I like— you, too." Beautiful words came out of his mouth, looking like it physically pained him to say them. "THERE, I SAID IT! YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?!" He howls indignantly, crossing his arms, trying to hide his clear flustered self yet it takes him one glance at you to return to his self induced stroke. "Don't fucking make that dumb fucking face—" he struggled to exist. "Don't look at me like that, dammit!"

You giggle, relieved and happy and in all honesty about to cry a tiny bit. You couldn't help it, enamored with how blissful this moment was. Bakugou stops his grunts and watches you in awe, small, minuscule grin taking over his face and he clicks his tongue, trying to fight it.

And deflects, as always.

"C'mon. Have to walk you there before you get lost or some shit like that." You breathe in and nod, even thought you were perfectly capable of walking to the cafeteria as you've done it for a year and some now.

"Okay."

"You'd be starving if it weren't for me." You snort and roll your eyes, but beam like a lovestruck idiot.

"Sure thing, dude." It instantly earns a grunt, then a pout, followed by grumbles and heavy feet by your side. You check on him, noticing his shrugged shoulders and tinted nose and you almost trip with your own legs because of it. He doesn't say anything for the longest time, which you didn't mind as you yourself needed some time to shoo away the butterflies and rainbows that floated all around in your very empty head. It wasn't until you almost reached the cafeteria that he stops you by the arm and looks away.

"You— You shouldn't call your boyfriend dude, dumbass."

Remember the butterflies? Now they're radioactive and fluttering around, crazed and disoriented.

"Says the one that calls me a dumbass, Bakugou." You relent, thankful he took the initiative to answer the question that lingered in the air throughout all the walk.

A wild flush takes over him and he refuses to turn toward you, just observing from the corner of his eyes.

"It's— It's Katsuki to you, dumbass." And he drags you inside without giving you a chance to process it. But when you do, you grin like mad and whisper just as you were manhandled through the door, preparing yourself for his explosive gargling and screaming and silently apologizing to everyone in your general proximity.

"Okay, Kacchan~"

Note: Thank you for reading and for any sweet mesages! I read each and every one of them and they make me so incredibly happy!! I would like to point out that the phone editor switches around paragraphs and it's very confusing. I edited some mistakes and for now it's good but I'm scared it wasn't fixed since I edited before too and I encounter the same problem again... If you find something off, could you please let me know? I want the reading to be enjoyable for everyone after all. Thank you again! 💕

#boku no hero academia #bnha #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou

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handsoffmyscarfsherlock · 3 years

Note

Hello! This is the first time I've requested something, so sorry if I'm doing it wrong! Could you make a sequel to Riddle Man? Maybe multiple?

Hi there! I'm SO sorry for the late response. My life has been a little hectic lately!

However, here you are! I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if y'all might want this to be a series. Comments are greatly appreciated.

Riddle Man Pt. 2

Ed Nygma x Reader

Summary: Life continues for the reader and Ed, their relationship continuing to blossom. However, it becomes stressed when the reader meets everyone’s favorite detectives.

Warnings: Creepy Ed! Otherwise none :)

Cold. You feel your hair on your arms standing up. The morgue turned out to be more homey than you expected, however, when you got settled in there continued to be a slight chill through your body. Your body silently shook as you looked through your case files. You were already put to work no less than an hour after arriving to your new job.

The GCPD was swamped. Truly swamped. You were thankful to be out of the bustling bullpen along with the noisy detectives. Looking down at your watch you notice that your lunch-break had already passed since you were so busy trying to adjust and adapt to the new environment.

“I can be roasted but I’m not a turkey. I can be ground but I’m not pepper. I can be pressed but I’m not a button. I can be brewed but I’m not beer. I’m a bean but I’m not magic. What am I?” You jump as you hear the voice appear behind you.

“Mr. Nygma! You startled me!” You spin on your chair to face the tall and lanky man. His arms were behind his back as if he were hiding something. Your eyebrows furrow as his eyes twinkle, awaiting your response.

“Coffee, Mr. Nygma. Although, if you ask me I think it is truly magical!”

He beamed a Cheshire-like grin at your response as he presented you with a mug of coffee. Your hands were warmed as the coffee mug rested within your palms.

She’s so delicate. So dainty.

Stop it. He thought to himself. Leave her alone. I don’t want you here. You were beaming at the coffee, in your own little world.

“Thank you Mr. Nygma! Exactly how I like it, how’d you guess?”

Ed smirked and simply responded, “Call it an educated guess. I guess this is our coffee date, seeing as it looks like the work load won’t decrease anytime soon.” The look in his eyes showed disscontempt. You could assume that was just frustration behind the heavy day.

“Hey! Don’t worry about it! I’m just happy that you’re here with me, it’s nice to have a partner to get this work done with.” Your smile beamed at him, feeling more invigorated from the coffee.

She likes you, buddy. She wants you. Look at her.

Your eyes twinkled at him with genuine adoration. It took every ounce of his being not to kiss you right there. He was right, you did look perfect. Everything about you was perfect. Perfect for him and him alone.

“A companion makes everything go by quicker,” He chirped at you, “You’re cold. Are you feeling ok?” He rushes over to you and puts his hand to your forehead. You giggle at his worry.

“Mr. Nygma, I’m ok! I’m just a little chilly from being down here.”

Looks like she could be warmed up, I’ve got some ideas of my own if you want to hear-

Stop. Now. He dry swallows to try to push the feeling down.

You notice that the concern on his face does not drop. He looks around the room, his hair shifting slightly to droop onto his forehead.

“Let me go get you a jacket from my locker! I’ll be right back!” He scampers out of the room leaving you alone again. You sigh and sip your coffee. It was sad how much you missed his presence already.

“Who the hell are you?”

You jump and stand up at the harsh voice. You see a ragged looking man who’s eyes seem to have observed some bad stuff through his years on the force.

“Harvey, what are you-“ Another man walks through the door before noticing you. He had a stereotypical police haircut. He looked young, fresh, compared to the man next to him. He winces apologetically before stepping in front of you.

“Hey, sorry about him. I’m Detective James Gordon and this is Detective Harvey Bullock. I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t know how to behave yet, despite working here longer than me.” You chuckle at his response.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m Y/N and I’m the new forensic assistant! It’s a pleasure to meet you, both of you, actually.” You smile at Jim and Harvey. Jim gives you a polite smile in return and Harvey relaxes a little. “Is there something I can do to help you, gentlemen?”

Jim shifts and looks at Harvey. Harvey clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, we were expecting Nygma but we wanted to know what the tox screen said about the stiff we found this morning.”

You shuffle around your papers before finding the one they wanted. “The man was clean. At least that’s what the preliminary said. I can test for specific things if you can tell me what you’re looking for if you want?”

Jim and Harvey nod in acknowledgement. The silence in the room was uncomfortable and made you want to squirm.

“Is there anything else I can do-“

“How’s it like working with Nygma?” Harvey interrupts. Your face lightly flushes in discomfort.

“Mr. Nygma is a very nice person, Detective Bullock. I have only been here for a couple hours but I genuinely enjoy his company!” Your voice was strong, despite the anxiety rippling through your body. Jim also looks like he is uncomfortable at Harvey’s comment.

Harvey isn’t done though, “But, like, he’s so weird. Doesn’t he make you feel like he could cut you up and eat you?”

Jim looks like he wants to smack Harvey. Your temper and patience are wearing thin.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Mr. Almighty one, but how dare you say that! I bet you barely know him. You sound ridiculous. I cannot believe you think you can even say that, I’m disgusted. If you don’t have anything else I can do for you, I’m going to have to ask you to please leave.”

Jim doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Harvey’s arm before pushing him towards the door. Your hands have found your hips, looking like an upset mother. Jim turns to you, eyes apologetic, “Thank you for your help Y/N. I’m so sorry, again.”

They leave, the room settling into the quiet again. You huff and sit down onto your chair, taking a sip of coffee and trying to let it calm you down. Settling back into your work, you wait for Ed to come back.

Little did you know Ed was behind the door for the entire conversation, clutching the jacket in a death grip. His knuckles white. Now resting his body on the wall outside, his mind was racing.

She defended you. She cares. Can’t you tell? I need her. We need her. Now.

Ed is shocked. No one has ever defended him like that. It is always everyone laughing at him, just like he was used to. You are different. A beautiful, refreshing, breath of fresh air. You were exactly what he needed. For the first time, he agreed with the dark thoughts he had so desperately avoided.

You were going to be his, whether you liked it or not.

#edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #gotham imagine #gotham fox

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thebookreader12345 · 4 years

Text

And We Meet Again

Pairing: Crockett Marcel x reader

Summary: Y/N gets hurt while researching a piece she has to write about for an article at work, and when she goes to the ED, she reconnects with an old college friend

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of blood

Word Count: 1,495 Words

I climbed out of my car and shivered as my skin came into contact with the air. Man it was cold out. I opened the back door to my car and pulled out my hat and scarf, thankful that I had decided to throw them back there last minute. I also grabbed my notepad and camera, which I held in my hand. Usually, I’d be writing a hard hitting piece for the company I worked for, but my boss was getting tired of receiving complaints from people who disagreed with whatever I was writing about, so he assigned me a new piece to work on. It was about the top 3 sightseeing spots in Chicago to see during the winter, and it was a whole 2 steps down from what I had been working on before.

A cold gust of wind blew past me, and my teeth chattered, so I pulled my arms, which were holding my things, to my chest. At the moment, I hated my boss for making me do this stupid assignment, especially because it was barely 30 degrees outside. He could’ve given this assignment to anyone else in the department, but had chosen to give it to me. Because I saw so busy hating on my boss, I didn’t notice the huge patch of ice ahead of me spanning the whole rest of the trail. So, when my foot stepped down onto it, I wasn’t expecting to slip backwards and begin sliding down the trail. My notepad and camera fell from my hands, and flew backwards, far away from me. I reached out to grab a branch in an attempt to stop myself from going any further, and it worked, but the branch cut deep into my palm, causing me to start bleeding.

“Fuck!” I curse and stand up. My hand began to sting, and blood dripped from my palm onto the snow, turning it from it’s once pure white to a light shade of red. My whole body hurt from my trip down the trail, but I ignored the pain and pulled off my scarf, wrapping it tightly around my injured hand. Why I hadn’t brought gloves, I didn’t know, but I was definitely regretting that decision. I winced as I walked back up the path, careful to avoid the ice patches, and grabbed my camera and notepad from the ground. The lens of my camera was cracked, but I didn’t really care about that at the moment. When I got back to my car, I tossed my things into the back seat, and started up the engine. My hand continued to burn and bleed, turning my gray scarf a darker color. I guess I was heading to the doctor to get it checked out. When I got to the ED, it didn’t take me long to get sent to one of the trauma rooms where I was currently waiting for a doctor.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Dr. Manning,” a woman greeted and entered the room.

“Nice to meet you,” I say back. “I would shake your hand, but it’s bleeding.”

“I can see that. Nice thinking of using your scarf as a tourniquet. Where’d you learn that?” Dr. Manning asked.

“An old friend of mine from college was studying to be a doctor, and he taught me a few things,” I tell her.

“Okay. Just give me a second, and then I’ll take a look,” Dr. Manning spoke and peaked her head out the trauma room door. “Dr. Marcel, can you check on our patient? I’ve got a quick case to work on.” When Dr. Manning said that name, something sparked inside of me. I knew someone with that name.

“Sure thing. I’ll get right on it,” Dr. Marcel answered, his voice laced with a thick, New Orleans accent. Hold on a minute. I knew that accent as well.

“Crockett?” I question from where I was perched on the edge of the bed. The doctor who Nat had spoken to peaked his head around the door, and when I saw him, I smiled. Yep. I definitely knew him. I jumped down from the bed and embraced him in a hug, careful not to get any blood on his scrubs. Crockett returned the hug, giving me a soft squeeze. “What the hell are you doing in Chicago?”

“Wait a minute. You two know each other?” Dr. Manning asked.

“Yeah,” Crockett replied. “We went to college together down in New Orleans, but Y/N moved back here afterwards because she’s originally from here. Nat, I’ll take it from here, if you don’t mind.”

“Go on ahead,” Nat responded. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“So,” I say and sit back down on the bed as Nat left the room. “You’re in Chicago now.”

“I just recently got a job here. But enough about me. Lets take a look at that hand,” Crockett stated and pulled on some gloves, removing the scarf from around my palm. “What happened here?”

“I slipped and caught it on a branch. That’s what happened,” I joked as Crockett examined the wound.

“Well, it must’ve been one sharp ass branch because this cut’s pretty deep. You’re going to need stitches,” Crockett declared. “Sorry.”

I shrugged. “It’s not the worse thing in the world. At least I won’t have to write the stupid article my boss wanted me to since my hand is busted.” Crockett laughed and sat down on the doctor’s stool, and used it to roll himself over to one of the sets of drawers. Then, he pulled out a needle and a bottle of some sort of liquid, and my breath caught in my throat. Crockett could sense my discomfort, and once he had sucked up some of the medicine using the needle, he turned towards me.

“Still afraid of needles?” Crockett asked and rolled back to my side.

“Very much so,” I say.

Crockett gave me small smile. “Well, you’re welcome to hold onto me if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Crockett,” I murmur and reach out to grab ahold of his bicep with my left hand.

“You’re just going to feel a little pinch,” Crockett told me and injected the needle into the skin of my palm. I screwed my eyes shut for a split second as I felt the tiniest bit of pain, and just like that, it was over. It didn’t take long for Crockett to stitch up my hand, and soon, I was good to go.

“It was nice seeing you again,” I say and give Crockett a hug. “We should catch up some time when you’re not on shift.”

“I’d like that,” Crockett responded. “It was good to see you, Y/N.”

A Few Weeks Later

"And that’s how I got away with writing the biggest story of my career,” I explain as Crockett and I walked through the front door of my apartment. We had just come back from having dinner together, which was something we did once a week. It was nice getting to see him again, especially because it had been awhile. We were best friends during our college years, and it pained me that we had to go our separate ways. But now, we were together again, and it made me very happy.

“So journalism is working out well for you then?” Crockett asked as we sat down on my couch.

“Definitely. But that’s nothing compared to what you’ve accomplished,” I point out.

Crockett waved that though aside. “Nonsense. I’m happy for you Y/N.” He then looked down at his watch. “It’s getting late. I should head home.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell him. Crockett smiled and stood up, making his way towards the front door. At that moment, something inside me seemed to snap, and I knew that there was something I had to do. “Crockett wait!” I call out and get off of the couch. Crockett turned around just as I reached him, and that’s when I did something crazy. I cupped Crockett’s face with my hands and kissed him. I didn’t expect him to kiss back, but he did. Crockett wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against his chest to where there was no room between us. I smiled against his lips, feeling glad that he had decided to kiss back. When we finally pulled away from each other, both of us had huge grins on our faces. “I’ve been wanting to do that for forever,” I admit.

“Me too,” Crockett confessed and pressed his lips to mine for another kiss.

“I’m glad you’re back in Chicago,” I mumble against his shoulder as he held me tightly.

“I am too. You know, I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, so I guess I could stay for a little longer,” Crockett informed me.

I smiled. “I’d like that. Now, lets see what cheesy movies are on, and we can relive the movie nights from our college days.”

_____________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett

#one chicago #chicago med #crockett marcel #crockett marcel x reader #crockett marcel imagine #x reader #imagine #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 4 years

Note

81 and 82 + reddie for the smut prompts please darling? 💖✨

81 “We’re just friends” & 82 “Friends don’t do this kind of shit.”

Hey Di, sorry for the wait! I’m throwing both of these prompts together! You can also read it on AO3

NSFW

"Rich, you need to stop."

Richie jerked back, studying Eddie's face for any sign of discomfort. He was sure Eddie was enjoying the way Richie was kissing and biting his neck, if the little gasps he was letting out were any indication.

"You don't like that?"

"What?" Eddie asked, blinking his eyes into focus. For a moment he seemed genuinely confused that Richie wasn't kissing him anymore, then he snapped out of it and pulled Richie back in. "No, not that. I like that, keep doing that. I mean. You need to stop giving me those looks."

"What looks?" Richie asked, picking up where he left off and sucking a hickey on Eddie's throat. He let out a happy sigh.

"You know." He said, his fingers tangling in Richie's hair. "The 'I've seen you naked looks' you were giving me."

"But I've seen you naked, Eds." Richie replied with a smug smile, even if Eddie couldn't see it.

He gave a sharp tug to his curls. "Yes, but our friends don't know that." He said, giving them another tug just because he knew how much Richie liked it. "And we don't want them to find out, remember? Not yet."

Richie shrugged, he couldn't care less if their friends found out the truth, but Eddie insisted that they kept it quiet for now. Richie had to admit he enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, but he was also dying to tell everyone that Eddie and him were together and he wanted to give Eddie as many adoring, and yes, maybe a little sexy, looks as he pleased.

Richie didn't even realize he was looking at Eddie like that. He thought he was giving him friendly 'we haven't touched each other's dicks' looks while they watched a movie with their friends in Stan and Richie's dorm room. He thought the way Eddie was squirming in his seat was due to the horror movie Bev had picked. And when Eddie abruptly jumped to his feet, claiming he needed to get his special neck pillow from his room across the hall, Richie thought it was just an excuse to get a break from the movie.

Then Eddie grabbed his hand on the way out and dragged him through the door with him. Richie figured he didn't want to go alone and went willingly. He was surprised when Eddie pushed him against the door of the room he shared with Bill and proceeded to shove his tongue down Richie's throat. He recovered quickly, manhandling Eddie until he had him pressed against the desk and returning the kiss with matching intensity.

He was only realizing now that it was the look he gave Eddie, albeit unknowingly, that ended up with Eddie propped up on the desk with his legs wrapped around Richie's waist while he sucked on his neck. Why would Richie want to stop looking at him like that?

"So you don't want me to look at you?" He asked, biting down on Eddie's jaw and enjoying how it made his breath hitch. "Do you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you already?"

Eddie let out a snort. Richie jumped when his hand wiggled between them and squeezed the obvious tent in his pants. "I know just how hard it is." He whispered, his voice low and husky in a way that made Richie’s cock twitch against Eddie's hand.

Richie swallowed thickly when he squeezed again. "Ah! Eds gets off a good one."

"Hmm." Eddie hummed distractedly, using his other hand, still tangled in Richie's hair, to bring their lips together. "Now take off your pants so we can both get one off."

Richie let out a strangled laugh. "God you're perfect." He blurted out, giving him a surprisingly chaste kiss before unzipping his pants. Eddie gave him a fond smile while working on his own zipper.

They knew they were in a hurry, if they didn't go back to their friends soon they might come looking for them. So they didn't even bother to take off their pants completely, just enough so they could get their dicks out. They were both fully hard after a very intense make out session and some mild grinding. Eddie's dick was already leaking, wetness gathering at the tip. That alone made Richie forget about their limited time and drop to his knees, taking Eddie in his mouth.

"Fuck Richie!" He gasped, bringing his hand up to his mouth to bite on his knuckles. He kept the other one in Richie's hair to guide him up and down his length.

Richie hollowed his cheeks, drawing a choked whimper from Eddie. That sound went straight to his own dick and he took it in his hand, timing his strokes with the movements of his mouth.

He was ready to make Eddie come like this and jerk himself off after he came down his throat. He picked up the pace when Eddie's thighs started to shake, knowing he was close, but before he came, Eddie was pulling at his hair and shoulders, dragging Richie to his feet.

He stumbled into the space between Eddie's legs. "I want to kiss you." He groaned, arching up so he could lick into Richie's mouth. Their lips parted with a soft, wet sound. "I'm close, Rich."

"I've got you, baby." Richie said, going along with the change of plans. He let go of his dick to wrap his fingers around Eddie. He didn't have to miss the friction in his own dick for long, Eddie took over, his fingers expertly stroking Richie.

They weren't kissing anymore so much as panting into each other's mouths as they both neared the edge. "Rich, I'm gonna come." Eddie moaned. "My shirt- don't let it get on my- Oh my god!"

Eddie came with a loud moan. Richie, who somehow understood his broken words, managed to keep his come from getting on his shirt, like the thoughtful boyfriend he was.

He planted feather light kisses on the soft skin of Eddie's neck while he came down, keeping his come covered hand away from them and using the other one to tilt Eddie's head to the side.

"You're so fucking hot, Eds." He whispered into his ear and Eddie gave him a lazy smile in return.

"Are you close?" He asked Richie, picking up the pace with his hand the way he liked.

"Hmm." Richie let out a strangled sound and nodded, pushing his cock into Eddie's fist.

Eddie kissed him, sucking on his tongue and expertly twisting his wrist until Richie followed him over the edge, a broken 'Eddie' falling from his lips.

Richie dropped his head against Eddie's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you those looks anymore?" He pulled back to smile giddily at Eddie.

His lips twitched into a smile, then something else registered because he wrinkled his nose. "Right now all I want you to give me is a tissue. My hand is covered in come."

Richie threw his head back with a laugh. "I'm on it, babe." With his pants threatening to fall from his hips, he picked up a box of tissues from the floor, giving one to Eddie and using another to clean his own hand.

He had just tossed them both towards the trash can when they heard someone bang on the door, followed by the rattle of the doorknob. Richie barely had time to step in front of Eddie, still sitting on the desk with his dick out, before the door flung open.

He was facing in the opposite direction and he couldn't see the door, but he saw Eddie's mortified expression and he heard Bev shriek, which was enough to get the picture.

Then, "I fucking knew it." Stan said, and Richie thought he heard Ben mutter, "Is Richie wearing My Little Pony boxers?" He could've sworn it was Mike who answered him, but he didn't hear what he said.

Richie grimaced. "Fuck, is it all of them?" He asked Eddie.

He got his answer when Bill groaned, "Seriously? On my fucking desk?"

Which confirmed to Richie that it was all of their friends who had just walked in on them. So Richie did what he did best to lighten up awkward situations. He made a joke. "Don't worry Bill, we will use your bed next time."

Eddie slapped his arm and Richie instinctively moved back, before realizing his body was the only thing hiding Eddie's lower half from their friends. He looked over his shoulder at them, crowded next to the very open door.

"Do you guys mind closing that? Five people walking in on us is more than fucking enough." He muttered. "A bigger audience and I might start charging."

The door clicked shut and after a couple of very awkward moments, Bev cleared her throat, "So are you two dating?" She asked, completely casual, like she didn't just walk in on two of her friends after they had sex.

Richie wanted to laugh, this was fucking weird, but Eddie was giving him a warning look that made him change tactics. "What?" He asked, playing dumb. "No way, no. Eduardo and I- we're- just friends."

It sounded convincing to his own ears, but based on the way Eddie looked at him and mouthed 'seriously?' it probably wasn't.

Richie shrugged his shoulders to say 'well, what did you want me to say?'

Someone snorted- Stan? Mike?

"Friends don't do this kind of shit." Definitely Stan.

He tried again. "Just because you and I don't do it Stanothy, it doesn't mean that-"

"Rich." Eddie interrupted, the first time he spoke since getting walked in on. He gave Richie a little shake of his head that told him that yeah, they got caught and they couldn't lie their way out of this, but his mouth was curled up in a way that told Richie that maybe Eddie didn't mind that much.

Richie felt his face break into a grin. He never intended for them to get caught, honestly. But he was glad they did, because now he could do this- press his lips against Eddie's while their friends watched.

"Does that answer your question, Bev?" Richie asked, kissing him again just because he could. He heard Bev giggle. "Now, can my boyfriend and I get a little privacy or do you want me to turn around and show you why everyone calls me Big Dick Tozier?"

"Literally no one calls you that." Stan said, probably while rolling his eyes.

Richie ignored him. "One." He counted out loud. "Two." But he never got to three. He heard the door open, shuffling footsteps and Bill say, "I'm going to burn that desk," before it shut again.

Eddie sighed loudly. "Guess the cat is out of the bag."

Richie snickered, tipping his head to look down at them, at their undone pants. "More like- the dick is out of the bag."

Eddie scrunched up his nose, but despite himself, he laughed. Loud and happy, right before he pulled Richie in to give him another kiss.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @stylesmelon @s-s-georgie @thelazyeye @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie@jesuschristsupruvestar @reddie4diaster @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @twoidiotsinl0ve @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen @call-me-bread @wickedlyweasley @derpyanimatesstuff @braverthanyathink @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @s-onora @reddie-stole-my-heart @typewrxter

#reddie #two idiots trying to keep their relationship a secret #and failing #notsfw #monse writes #di tag

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 6

Eddie was bored. Like, really bored. Both his health studies and his history class had been slow, more introductions than actual work, which was total bullshit. With no homework, no studying, Eddie was lost. He didn't have many hobbies thanks to the cage his mother had forced him into (pencil lead will poison you Eddie-bear no drawing and also skateboards are death traps and you'll stab your eye out with a knitting needle oh dear oh no) so he really had nothing to do. He was sat on the sofa with his eyes trained on the TV though he hardly registered the news channel playing, foretelling the Tuesday weather. Bill was on the other end of the couch, the soft sounds of his pastels gliding across thick paper just barely heard over the Anchorwoman voice of Cindy Williams. If he were back in Derry, Eddie would most likely be down in the barrens, sitting with three jackets and a scarf (even though it wasn't that cold just yet) on the banks of the Kenduskeag with Stan and Bill at his sides. Maybe they would be playing go-fish or maybe they'd have brought down Eddie's Parcheesi board or maybe they'd just be talking and talking and talking about God-knows-what. With the third of their party, Stan, at work for the evening neither Bill nor Eddie felt adventurous enough to bother going out and wandering the streets of Portland in search of something to do. The rain had yet to return, the sun from the day prior still holding strong, but despite the warmth that was promised Eddie would rather just stay inside and wallow. A sudden, too-loud beeping sound erupted form Eddie's left pocket, making both him and Bill simultaneously leap right out of their skin. Eddie actually let out a shout, his heart soaring into the air and then plummeting all at once. It was just his phone. His phone was just ringing. He didn't need to freak out. Jesus.

"Sorry-" He apologized quickly to Bill, shooting him an irritated glance and pulling his phone from his pocket. Leaping to his feet (he didn't want to disturb Bill any longer, since he had already pulled him from his drawing trance) he hurried away towards his room, slipping past his door and answering his call, finally silencing that infuriating Nokia ringtone. It had always gotten on his nerves. "Hello, this is Eddie Kaspbrak?"

"Why didn't you call me?" Eddie went rigid, stiff as a board, the voice in his ear the last one he currently wanted to be hearing- why didn't he check the number before picking up? Shit, he thinks to himself, and then immediately worries that he might have spoken that aloud- it was his mother, contacting him for the first time since he was swept away by his two best friends. "I was worried for you, Eddie-bear. Why didn't you call me?" Sonia's tone is weird, off-sounding, and Eddie can detect a multitude of different emotions both fake and real even through the crackly distorting of his speaker.

"Mommy, I- I'm sorry, I totally forgot," It's difficult to find any words right now. How had Eddie forgotten to call his mother? She and Derry, home, had been on his mind so frequently that it was genuinely astonishing that he hadn't thought to call her. Of course, he didn't want to call her, he was terrified of what she'd say to him on the subject of his schooling, his 'running away', but- how had the thought never once crossed his mind? "With school starting and trying to get used to everything here I've been really busy and-"

"Are you being worked too hard over there? What time are you waking up? Going to sleep? It's probably cold over there today, you'd better be wearing your jacket," His mother's voice washed him with a feeling of illness. Instead of listening to her words, her senseless pestering, he tried to pick apart what feelings shone through he words. Those jumbled tones, all different, were confusing. Eddie managed to pick out the sickly-sweet tone that Sonia often adopted when she was covering up her rage or her hurt or discomfort- it was the tone that promised a silent terror, a silent wrath. If he had to compare that voice to anything else in the world it would be like the moment before a tiger pounces and tears you limb from limb. Despite her efforts to hide it, her anger shone through nonetheless, sending a shiver down Eddie's spine. Sonia Kaspbrak was furious. "-Home again and then everything will be alright, won't it Eddie? It'll be just fine again and I can-" The phone erupted into ringing once more. Eddie winced, ripping the device away from his ear as the little Nokia chime blew out his right eardrum.

"Mommy, mom- I'm getting another call, please just give me a moment-"

"Don't put me on hold, Eddie! Don't you dare put me on-" Eddie put her on hold. He let out a huff as her voice finally went silent and another one took it's place. To say the least, this one was no more pleasant.

"Hey, Eduardo! Nice of you to answer!" Richie was loud, too loud, but Eddie put up with it because at least he wasn't Sonia.

"What do you want, Richie?" His words came out clipped, snappy- significantly more rude than he had meant, which is a surprise, because he did mean to be a little rude. He grimaced at his own voice and could basically see Richie's confusion on the other end.

"Woah there, Eds, what's gotten your panties in a twist? Doesn't matter- I have a proposal to make."

"I- Richie, sorry, now isn't the best time I have another call on the line-"

"Today is our weekly 'Taco Tuesday', but Mike and Ben both got called into work last minute. It's just me, Bev, and wayyyy more tacos than any person can safely eat." Eddie hadn't noticed he had begun to pace. He didn't want to hang up on Richie, but the burning anxiety bubbling like boiling lava in his stomach was direly unpleasant and spreading by the second. His mother would be pissed. "I know Stan the Man's got work today, but why don't you and Bill swing by for dinner and a movie? It can be our first date, what do you say?" Though his tone was teasing, Eddie's face went red. He began to pace quicker- he wouldn't be surprised if he burned holes right into the carpet.

"Yeah- sure- whatever- I have to go, Richie," The quickest way out of this conversation was to agree, and so Eddie did just that, without really thinking it through. He could stomach a night at Richie's, especially if Bill and Bev were there. Beverly was nice, and Eddie wouldn't mind getting to know her better.

"Aha, that's a yes Bevvie! I told you they'd wanna come! Alright, you know the address, be here whenever, we don't have any pla-" Eddie jammed his thumb down onto the 'hang-up' button and then his mom was on the other end again.

"Sorry, I'm back," Eddie's heart was thumping unnaturally fast. His asthma inhaler was on his vanity, only two steps away, but he couldn't use it or else who knows what his mother would do and say. He wouldn't be surprised if she came speeding all the way to Portland. "What were you saying?"

"Who was that, Eddie-bear? You were gone for so long I thought you might have hung up on me or something!" A retort on the tip of his tongue, Eddie swallowed his annoyance- after all, he was only gone for about thirty seconds- and put on his own false voice.

"It was just a telemarketer, mommy, it's alright. Sorry for making you wait, but I do have to go now. I need to eat dinner." That was a general truth. Sonia didn't need to know what he was having for dinner, just that he was having it. She would lose her mind over tacos- too fatty, the shells can hurt your teeth, cut your gums, you have delicate gums Eddie- and so it was best not to tell her at all.

"Oh Eddie, I miss you so much! Please, please call me and maybe we can organize a visit? Maybe I can come over and say hello? You can show me your school?" 'Show me your school' was code for 'Let me point out every dangerous little thing so that you have a panic attack and have to come home'. "I love you, Eddie-bear, I love you so so so so so-"

"I love you too mom, I have to go. I'll call. Bye." The call was ended. It was almost as if a weight was lifted off of Eddie's shoulders. He staggered over to his desk, picking up his inhaler and staring down at it. It looked foreign in his hands, dangerous, maybe- but heavenly at the same time. Eddie would have taken a puff if it weren't for Bill's footsteps approaching his doorway. He dropped the device quickly, spinning to the door just as Bill pushed it open, peeking his head inside and offering Eddie a small, tentative smile.

"That was your muh-mother?" He asked, pushing the door the rest of the way open and letting the golden hallway light shine through, banishing the growing sundown shadows, "Is everything oh-okay? Are you okay?" Eddie smiled- the expression was fake, but boy was Eddie good at pulling off fakes.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm great. It was my mom, and Richie, too- He wants us to come over for tacos or something. I don't really know, I was hardly listening. Beverly's there, I think, but Ben and Mike are at work." Bill's own smile grew into something more genuine, less frightened. He nodded his head.

"That sounds gr-great, actually. I'm stu-starving." Eddie let the anxiety from the call with his mother wash away.

-----

"Heya, Big Bill! And Eds, too, just swell- come in, come in!" Pulling his door wide open, Richie swept out an arm, "Welcome to my humble abode! Take a look around, make yourselves comfortable- it's a pretty nice place when it isn't crawling with teens." Bill and Eddie stepped through the threshold, into Richie's apartment. Richie noted with a burst of pride the way his guests both ogled, their gazes raking across the space they'd stepped out into.

To their immediate right sat a modern/retro kitchen, an odd mixture of sleek black marble and sickeningly bright reds, oranges and yellows. There was a massive green fridge covered nearly top to bottom in different papers, school tests and flyers and sketches of clothing and poems and- God, who knows?- all locked in place by random magnets picked out of gift shops and shopping centers and delivered as gifts. The kitchen was bordered off by a peninsula, three red bar stools, one of which was an entirely different shape and brand, seated at it's side. There was a fruit bowl on the counter though it held no fruit- instead it was filled with different CD cases from all the big rock bands and even some smaller ones that hardly anybody ever heard of. Other than the fruit bowl there were also takeout boxes, lots of them, containing the tacos and other miscellaneous snacks Richie had ordered for dinner.

Past the kitchen sat the living room, and it was just as chaotic. The couch was nice, a simple grey with a detached ottoman of the same colour. On top of that couch was a multitude of different pillows and cushions- one was blue, another green, just normal squares, but then there were also the stranger pillows like one shaped to be an electric guitar and another taking the form of an octopus with long, dangling legs- as well as too many knitted blankets to count thrown over the backrest. A rug sat across the floor, swirling, psychedelic, red, brown, orange. The regular lights were off and instead the golden glow of the setting sun cast the room alight. All over the walls were different posters for movies and bands- there were even some records hung about. If Richie had to use one word to describe his home, that word would be 'radical'.

"Hey, guys," Bev waved from her spot on a bean bag chair sandwiched between the couch and the huge, yawning, nearly floor-to-ceiling window on the far end of the room, "You're finally here, Jesus I'm starved! Richie made me wait for you two before eating," She climbed to her feet, her mass of scarlet hair tied behind her head with a pale pink scrunchie. Richie just rolled his eyes, crossing to those red bar stools and letting himself fall down into one with a dramatic huff directed at Beverly.

"Suh-sorry we took so long," Bill said with a grin, apologetic and sincere just like his smiles always were, "We got a l-little caught up." Richie didn't fail to notice the way that Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, looking like he might shrink into the earth. Why?- Richie couldn't be sure- but the boy didn't look comfortable in the slightest and something about that put his stomach in a knot. Without even realizing it, Richie found himself taking on a silent mission- make Eddie laugh, genuinely, at least one time tonight.

"No problemo, my good friends! Take a seat, take a seat- Bev can stand," Richie grinned, a toothy smile screaming mischief and teasing- Beverly didn't waste a single moment before ramming her fist against his shoulder, effectively threatening him out of his chair and leaving it free for her to take instead. "Oi!" Richie hunched his shoulders, screwing up his face to the best of his abilities. Snatching up a plastic butter knife, he pointed it at his friend, taking on a New Yorker's accent, becoming a character that was still in the works- Wyatt, the Homicidal Bag-Boy, "You put those doi'ty paws nea' me again an' I'll cut 'em 'ight off an' bake 'em in this weeks bread!"

"I haven't heard that character before," Eddie said, mostly to himself, but he shot a glance in Richie's direction and almost looked something near impressed.

"Hu-how do you do it? How do you swi-switch between these Voices so e-easily?" Bill asked, following Beverly, who was the one to start the feast, in ripping open the top of a takeout box to reveal the food inside of the first- five tacos were stood side-by-side-by-side, overflowing with different toppings. Richie bought from a local food truck down the street, and they made the very best authentic tacos in all of Portland.

"A pact with the devil and a few sacrifices," Richie shrugged, pushing in past Bev and Bill to reach the food for himself, "And lots and lots of practice." In all honesty, his Voices came to him as if it were breathing or walking. They were a part of him for a multitude of reasons, but most of those reasons were more private than he'd like to admit. Briefly, he pointed out what different items were, which tacos had what toppings and which ones were his personal favorites (Not even he knew if he was telling them his preferences to get them to stay away or because he thought they'd like them too). Only after he had filled his plate with more tacos than he could eat did he step back to let the others pass, though he did notice that Eddie was sitting patiently and waiting for the others to serve themselves up first like the gentleman he had shown himself to be. "Here, Spaghetti-man. Try this one," Out of the kindness of his own heart, Richie sacrificed one of his chicken avocado tacos despite the scowl Eddie gave him thanks to the nickname, and despite the fact that they were the best of the best, "They're perfect," making an 'ok' sign with his fingers, Richie kissed at the air like a chef complimenting his craft. Then, he stepped around Eddie and hopped up to sit in the counter to his right.

"Jesus, Richie, you're lucky I love you or else I would have eaten these ages ago," Bev said, and then took a too-big bite out of her food. As if it were karma for stealing Richie's stool, she accidentally inhaled a flake of cheese or maybe lettuce, hacking out a cough and dropping her taco down onto her plate to thump her fist against her chest- immediately, concern was scrawled across Eddie's face, and he was about to leap to his feet to help her when she held out a finger and cracked a goofy smile. "All-" she choked out, and then buried her face into her sleeve, "All good-" Eddie was already putting his plate down and moving to get out of his chair. His mouth began to run a mile a minute, speaking so quickly that even Richie, ADHD in human form, could hardly piece the words together.

"Are you sure? I know the Heimlich maneuver- CPR too- and I have 9-1-1 on speed dial. You could damage your throat or your lungs and you don't always recover from stuff like that, even if it's just-"

"Woooooah there, Eds! She's just fine, trust me- she always does this. Bev's a bit of a blockhead in that aspect," Speaking through a mouthful of food, Richie placed his hand on Eddie's shoulder to keep him in his seat, "She seems to like choking on food almost as much as-"

"Bee' bee' Ri'ie!" Her face red, still choking, Bev found it necessary to end that train of thought then and there. She lunged across the counter, one hand connecting with Richie's side, and pushed him right from his seat. He hardly had time to catch himself, letting out a startled shout and almost dropping his plate. Bill's face split with an ear-to-ear grin and even though he had never heard that phrase, Beep Beep Richie, in his entire life, he knew that it was a part of him now just as much as any of this- He was laughing away, his eyes bright like small suns or maybe reminiscent of the glow of something alien, like a life force in the form of light or the glint of shiny teeth though that wasn't what Richie was paying attention to. Instead, through his thick glasses, he was staring at Eddie and passing him rapid glances out of the corner of his eye, trying to confirm his suspicions and to ease his surprise. Eddie Kaspbrak seemed to be smiling, just a little tiny quirk of his lips- on any other face this smile would have meant nothing but the fact that it was Eddie who was showing any sign of joy was a monumental moment.

"Beep beep yourself, asshole!" Richie rolled his eyes, his grin still strong as ever. Leaning on the counter across from the three, they all began to eat again though Richie was practically buzzing with a mixture of emotion. He was determined to get something bigger out of Eddie, a full on laugh, a double-over and clutch your sides kind of laugh, the kind of laugh that only came from something so insanely stupid that you couldn't not break down because of it. He knew all too well that you couldn't force comedy, and just had to hope that the perfect opportunity arose. "So," Richie leaned his head on his hand, fluttering his lashes innocently (which meant he had something mischievous planned), "What all do you know about choking? Were you really able to save Bev if she was dying just then? How?" Eddie scoffed, his eyes flicking up from his plate for just a moment to meet those of the Tozier boy.

"What do you mean 'how'? You have to have learned basic First Aid. Everyone should know this shit." Crunching down onto his taco, Richie shook his head. The look that crossed Eddie's face then was hilarious. The horror mixed with disappointment morphed his boyish features perfectly- if he had a camera, Richie wouldn't have hesitated to take a photo. He knew what CPR was and the Heimlich too, he wasn't that dumb but for the sake of the teasing he would play dumb as a brick since that was what he was best at. "So, what you're saying is, if I hadn't been here and Beverly had really been choking she would have just- died. Just like that. Because you don't know how to do CPR."

"I'm sad to say so," Richie shrugged one shoulder, "She'd be done-zo. Six feet under. Kickin' the can."

"First of all, it's the bucket, not the can," Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, though that upward quirk of his lips had returned and Richie felt a swell of triumph, "And second, that's really, really hard to believe."

"Well, it's the truth, so..." Another one-shouldered shrug. "Are there like, different types of CPR?"

"Oh my God, you're a fuckin'-" Eddie bit his tongue. Shaking his head, one hand rose to pinch the bridge of his nose, and then he dropped it and turned a surprisingly patient gaze onto Richie. "It starts with chest compressions," Something in Eddie changed, then, so suddenly it was almost invisible. His shoulders pulled back, his chin tilted up, and his eyes adopted a light that Richie had yet to see in them. It was confidence, self-assurance, a sign that Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about. "Chest compressions help the flow of blood to the heart and the brain. You do 30 chest compressions and then you have the check the persons airway, make sure there's no blockage-"

"What kind of blockage?" A snicker from Richie,

"Shut up," Eddie continued without pausing, and there was now the concern that he needed to breathe, "Then after that you can do mouth-to-mouth-" And, that was the breaking point for Richie. He smiled wide, leaned in a little closer, and, in that sly, mischievous tone, said,

"So what do I have to do to get CPR from ya Eds?" This promptly earned him a shove and another harsh punch to the shoulder.

***

After dinner passed, the group had shifted over to the couch for a movie. The thing with Taco Tuesday's was that each new week someone else picked the movie, and this week just so happened to be Richie's choice. That was why they were currently huddled around the TV watching 'The Birds'- Richie has to have seen it a billion times by now.

"Watch watch watch watch watch- oh! Bird attack!" Punching his fist into the air, Richie hollers his words, his elbow nearly jamming Eddie in the ribs as he flops back down into the sofa, "Shit, this scene used to scare me have to fuckin' death when I was a kid!" Watching, unamused, as birds flew in through a homes fireplace, Eddie let out a sound that might have meant to be a chuckle but sounded more like a scoff.

"I seriously can't believe this movie scared you," Eddie was still wearing that small, serene smile. All through the movie so far Richie has been making his silly little comments, pointing out the parts that always made his younger self shudder with fear, "It's just- so boring! So slow! And it's not realistic in the slightest-"

"Oh come on Eds, you're the one who's supposed to be terrified of these feathery little dudes. Shouldn't you be shitting your pants right now? Clinging to my side, sobbing, oh Richie, oh Richie please hold me close, I can't look any more!" As Richie's tone shifted into a falsetto, a poor, poor mimic of Eddie, he slumped, clinging to the shorter boy much like he was describing, "Turn it off, I'm shaking in my boots! Turn it off, pleeeeeeease-"

"Shut up, Richie!" As Richie's arms locked around Eddie's waist, he heard that sound that he was starting to think he'd never hear. As Eddie began to squirm, pushing and shoving at Richie's arms, his smile grew wider, something goofy and uncharacteristic, all teeth and dimples- along with that smile came the lightest, happiest, warmest sound that ever seemed to have existed. Eddie laughed, a real chuckalicious laugh, high-pitch and joyous. Richie's teasing words didn't cease, and he even began to wiggle his fingers, jabbing them into Eddie's sides and driving the boy to curl into himself, almost whacking Richie in the side of the head with his knee. As the laughing continued, Richie's chest tightened up pleasantly, warmly, his heart fluttering and his stomach doing some seriously impressive somersaults.

"Yowza yowza YOW-za! Richie Tozier gets off a good one!" Now, both Bev and Bill were laughing too, the movie long forgotten. In a brave moment Richie leaps to his feet, but his arms don't leave Eddie's form and then he's carrying him right with him. Eddie lets out a cry as the couch falls away but Richie holds him nice and tight, beginning to prance, spinning, jiving across the room, "Richard Wentworth Tozier is on a roll, on a ROLL baby! Yowza yowza-" He and Eddie are interrupted then by a dinging sound, the familiar ring of his cellphone. Richie's cheeks were warm, and he was certain that they were red, too. "Here ya go, Eds," he set Eddie back down, ignoring the 'It's Eddie, dickwad' and instead plucking his phone from where it sat on the coffee table. He felt high, no, better than high. He had only smoke weed a few times but in this moment he felt better than he ever has before- and then as he looked at his screen exhilaration in his chest died in an instant. His smile fell away, just for the briefest moment, before he forced it right back in it's place to cover up the pang of pain he felt at the new absence of his contentedness. The text he had received had been small, just a simple word, and yet it had killed the wonderful squeamishness in his stomach. It had killed the feeling that he had never felt before. It had killed that infinite warmth.

Hey.

Riche dropped his phone again without bothering to ask, and collapsed onto the couch once more, eyes trained on the film. It was all fine, he was vibing, living, enjoying his evening and no one would ruin that for him. Eddie, seeming to have noticed the split-second shift in Richie's expression, leaned in close and, brows furrowed with concern, asked,

"Everything okay?" Richie knew just how to deal with situations like this- he was a trained expert at skirting questions. With an easy-breezy smile and a set of thumbs up, he clicked his tongue and responded with,

"Cool as a cucumber, my friend," His own voice sounded funny to him with how grossly happy it was. It didn't match the pit in his stomach at all. This tone he took on in the direst situations was one of his few Secret Voices- he called it 'Richie 'I'm-All-Right' Tozier' and it was basically him, but without any life problems and crippling anxiety. He was so good at it now, so good at faking that good that you could hardly tell I'm-All-Right from the real him. Eddie shrugged and returned to the movie. For a few moments, everything was okay again, until he got another text. This one was... different from the last. It was from the same person, but had an entirely different feel.

hope you understand that we're not over. We won't ever be over.

Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Richie put his phone away, letting it drop down into his lap, as inconspicuously as possible though his heart was beating at 10000000 miles an hour. Christ, he felt like he needed a puff from Eddie's inhaler! The hidden threat in those words, the passive aggressiveness of them, it terrified him more than even a Voice could hide. The way his shoulders tensed must have been all too obvious. Not only was Eddie looking at him again, worried, but Bev was passing him discreet glances as well.

"Are you sure everything's okay, Rich? You look tense," Eddie still kept his voice low, so low, the perfect level to be heard by Richie and Richie alone.

"I- Yeah, I'm fine. Don't, uh..." Joke joke joke he needed a joke or he might let his smile turn all wobbly and weird and then Eddie would worry even more, "Don't worry your pretty little head." Panic panic panic- Richie is panicking. He thinks his hands might be shaking and maybe his eyes are glossing over just a little. The movie is bright right now, reflecting off of his watery gaze and as he watches Eddie's mouth begin to move again, preparing to pour out more concern, Richie spoke first because he can't bear to see Eddie worried and he double can't bear being the reason for that worriedness. "Excuse me for a moment, dears," Richie stood, smiling wanly, "I require a piss." And, with that, he hurried away for the bathroom. He hardly made it into the room in time, slamming the door shut and punching on the lights, before the fear really gripped him. He stumbled up to the sink, his hands gripping so hard onto the basin that his knuckles went white. Looking at his reflection in the mirror was strange. His face was white, his eyes were, indeed, glossy, so so obvious behind his glasses, and he looked positively miserable. He didn't want to look at his phone again, yet at the same time he was almost desperate to reread those messages, to reassure himself that maybe they were in his head, just memories, all a ploy, all just him remembering bad times and creating more bad times from those memories.

But Richie wasn't foolish. He knew that those messages were real. Should he even be surprised? Taking off his glasses and setting them aside, Richie turned on the faucet and cupped his hands underneath the rushing stream of lukewarm water. He sucked a breath through slitted teeth, and let his eyes fall shut, just for a moment. Texts could be bad, yeah. Texts could be threatening. In the end, though, texts couldn't hurt him. If Richie was careful, alert, he never needed to see that douchebag again. If he was careful than this asshole couldn't get close to him. Leaning forwards, Richie brought the water up to his face, splashing it upwards and letting the refreshment roll over him in a steady wave. Ex-boyfriends were assholes, yeah, Richie's especially- but he had fought so hard to get out of that relationship. Surely no God could be cruel enough to throw him back into it. Running a towel over his face and replacing his glasses, Richie caught his own eyes in the mirror once more. In an instant, the damaged, sunken, shell of his face morphed up into that Richie Tozier grin. It was movie time, baby. Cool as a cucumber.

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stan uris #stanley uris #mike hanlong #the losers club #it #it movie #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2019

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iwillgodownwithbuddie · 4 years

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I’ve Got Your Back, Remember?

Prompt by @justsmilestuffhappens: When Buck keeps getting hit on by strangers but shooting em down and they can’t take a hint Eddie decides to come over and hold his hand to steer him away only buck doesn’t know it’s not just to save him Eddie was getting a little jealous

A/N: I LOVED this prompt. Anytime I can start writing and the characters just basically take over writing it for me makes writing so much fun. I end up not knowing where the story is going to go and that is definitely what happened with this one. Also on AO3.

Buck rolled his eyes at the people leering at him as he approached the bar. The whole team had gone out to relax and just hang out together. They were taking turns grabbing more drinks for each other, and it happened to be Buck's turn. While the rings on Bobby's and Hen's fingers deterred the looks from the men and women sitting at the bar, Buck's lack of ring had all the attention on him.

"You alone?" The guy closest to Buck asked as soon as Buck finished ordering.

"Obviously not," Buck replied, pointing at the numerous drinks the bartender was getting ready for him.

"That's a shame," the woman a few seats down mumbled barely loud enough for Buck to hear.

"You interested in ditching your group? I know a place not far from here," the first guy said, eyeing Buck up and down.

Buck rolled his eyes. "Not at all." He took a step away from the man, starting to feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sure they won't mind."

"They would and so would I. I'm not interested."

The man huffed. "Come on, man. I'm sure you would have more fun with me than with them."

Meanwhile, at the table that the crew was sitting at, Eddie was frowning. He saw what was happening the second Buck stepped towards the bar to grab them another round of drinks.

"You okay, Eddie?" Bobby asked, noticing the frown on the younger man's face.

Eddie blinked and looked over at his captain whose voice snapped him out of his head. "Hmm?"

Bobby chuckled. "I asked if you're okay. You looked pretty deep in thought and was frowning over at the bar. I'm sure Buck will be back with the drinks in no time."

"It's not that," Eddie argued. "They're all looking at him like he's a piece of meat and it looks like that one guy over there won't leave him alone. He looks uncomfortable and keeps moving away from him."

Bobby sat down in Buck's seat and gave Eddie a look of understanding. "Are you just upset over Buck being uncomfortable or is there more to this?"

"He's more than his looks. He's kind, compassionate, gentle with kids, absolutely adores my son. He deserves more than being treated like that," Eddie said, pointing at the guy that was still coming on to Buck.

"Then why don't you go rescue him? And then tell him how you really feel."

Eddie sat silently as he took in what Bobby had just said. Without a word, he stood up from his seat and walked over to the bar, placing himself in between Buck and the mystery man.

"Hey, Babe," Eddie said with a wink as he linked hands with Buck. "Cap thought that maybe you could use a hand."

Buck looked at Eddie gratefully. He mouthed a quick thank you before speaking. "Thanks, babe."

Beside him, Eddie heard the man grumble. "I would have been more fun."

Eddie turned to the man in anger. "No you wouldn't have. You need to learn to take no for an answer, man. I heard my boyfriend tell you no numerous times. Maybe if you got to know someone, you wouldn't be annoying everyone who walks up to the bar."

"Didn't know he had a boyfriend, man," the man muttered.

"You didn't ask. You just asked him if he was alone, and when he said no, you still kept going."

Buck put a calming hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Let's go, Eds. Grab those. Let's take these back to the team and then let's get out of here."

Eddie looked in Buck's eyes and nodded. He grabbed half of the drinks from the counter and followed Buck back to the table. He listened, but didn't say a word as Buck explained that they were going to go ahead and head out.

Eddie followed Buck out to his jeep. "Are you okay to drive?" he asked as he climbed into the passenger's seat.

Buck smiled at the man sitting beside him. "I didn't drink. Blood thinners, remember?"

Eddie thought back at what they had been drinking at the table and realized that Buck had only drink water. "I knew that," he said, chuckling lightly.

As Buck pulled out of the parking lot and began driving down the road, he gave a quick smile at Eddie. "Thank you for rescuing me back there," he said, turning his attention to the road in front of him.

"You looked uncomfortable and he was pissing me off," Eddie responded.

"Are you sober enough to have this conversation?" Buck said, expression turning serious.

"Yes," Eddie answered. "I was still working on my second beer when you went to order the third round."

"Other than my discomfort, what was pissing you off, Eddie?" Buck asked, hoping he already knew the answer and wasn't reading the signs wrong.

Eddie sighed. "I was jealous"

Buck snorted. "Of that sleazeball? Eddie, you had nothing to worry about."

Eddie shook his head. "But I did. It wouldn't have been him, but I guess it made me realize it could be anyone. Anyone could have snatched you up before I could tell you how I felt."

Buck pulled the jeep into Eddie's driveway, but neither man moved to get out of the car. "You have your chance now, Eds."

"You already know?"

"This conversation practically already said it," Buck said, still dancing around the actual words. "But I guess I've known there's something between us for quite some time."

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"I'd rather be single and have you as my best friend than not have you at all if this blows up."

Eddie reached for Buck's hand and laced their fingers together cautiously. "I won't let it blow up. I've got your back, remember."

Buck looked Eddie in the eyes and smiled hopefully. "And I've got yours."

Slowly, they closed the gap between them and their lips met in a gentle kiss over the console of Buck's jeep. They parted slowly, eyes bright and smiling wide.

Buck chuckled as he sat back in his seat. "It feels like that should not have been our first kiss."

Eddie, too, was laughing in his seat. "No. It feels like we've been dating for years. I guess because we kind of have been."

Buck smiled. "I mean I am listed as your kid's other emergency contact and I do already have a key to your house."

"You automatically drove here. You spend more time here than you do at your own apartment. I guess this means I could start working on saving money for a ring so people will leave you alone at bars."

Buck blinked at his new boyfriend. "Maybe I'll be the one saving money for a ring."

Eddie mirrored the look on Buck's face before laughing even harder. "Are we really having this conversation? We just got together."

Buck laughed as well. "It does seem a little ridiculous. But at least we're on the same page."

"Are we on the same page about getting out of the car?" Eddie asked. "Because I'm excited to go in there and tell our kid about us." He watched and waited as his words clicked in Buck's head.

The moment it clicked, Buck smiled as his eyes teared up slightly. "Let's go tell our kid."

A month later, the team went out to the same bar with the same sleazy man sitting alone at the counter. This time, when Buck's turn to grab drinks came around, he made sure to have his left hand on display the whole time, letting the light catch the shiny piece of metal.

"Damn," Buck heard the man say. He laughed as he turned to face the man.

"Do you have something to say?" Buck asked.

"Just hoped you would have ditched that boyfriend of yours," the man grumbled.

Buck smirked. "I'd be careful if I were you. My fiancé always has my back. He's sitting right over there, watching, making sure I'm okay since you're here again. You know if you'd spend less time hitting on strangers at a bar and more time getting to know someone, you'd be much better off. See, I'm going to finish up hanging out with my team. Then, my fiancé and I are going to go home, plan our wedding some, and then watch a movie with our son. Meanwhile, you're going to sit here and hit on every man or woman who appears single and then go home alone drunk off your ass."

Without another word, Buck grabbed the drinks and walked over to the table where his friends sat. He handed everyone their respective drinks before grabbing his water and reclaiming his seat next to Eddie.

"You okay?" Eddie asked.

"Oh I'm perfect," Buck answered, laughing

"I saw whatshisface talking to you again."

"And you saw me tell him off too."

Eddie laughed. "The look on his face was priceless. But I was ready to rescue you again if you needed it."

"I knew that," Buck said, smiling. "You always have my back."

#Buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #original characters #bobby nash #buddie fanfiction #buck x eddie

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losvcr · 5 years

Text

all i want (reddie)

Summary: Eddie is dying. He knows he’s dying. He can’t die without telling Richie the truth. If it’s the very last thing he does, Eddie will make sure that Richie knows how he feels about him.

Pairing: Reddie

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: a homophobic slur, cussing, near death

A/N: y’all are probably gonna see a shit ton of these fics around bc we’re dramatic hoes who need to see our boy live and get the ending that he deserves. this is not beta’d, but the spirit hit me and i had to write it. hope y’all enjoy!

AO3 link: here

“I fucked your mom..”

Eddie let out a choked laugh before rather quickly easing off of it, not enjoying the extra dose of pain his body received from moving even a little bit. At least the severe pain he’d been feeling was starting to numb.

Fuck. That’s not what I meant to say.

There was so much he wanted to say.

Eddie had pondered death before. Who didn’t? He had faced it several times, in fact. But it was real, now. Eddie knew that he was dying. He was running out of time.

There was still so much he had to say.

Eddie could hear them talking. He watched them make a run for it so that they could continue the fight. But not Richie. Richie stayed right next to him. Richie.

Richie.

A small smile came onto Eddie’s face as he gripped Richie’s jacket tightly, not even remotely thinking about ever letting go of it. “..h-hey, Rich...?”

“Shh.. save your energy, Eddie. I’m getting you out of here as soon as I can. But until then, shut the hell up.” Richie whispered as he held onto Eddie tightly, and Eddie watched as Richie’s eyes flickered back and forth between him and the horror that their friends were trying to overcome.

Eddie loved that about Richie. That trashmouth idiot might always talk a lot of shit, but he cared. He cared about them. Richie cared about him.

For so long, Eddie had tried to deny it. Even when he left and his memories became repressed, Eddie had always known that something had been missing. He’d known that his marriage with Myra was safe, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

Coming back home and seeing that goofy grin and huge bifocals made him remember.

Now he was at death’s door and Eddie knew it was now or never. If he didn’t say it now, he would never get the chance to. He had already lost that opportunity once.

“R-Richie...”

“No.” Eddie stared over the side of Richie’s face in confusion, shakily reaching one of his hands up to cup Richie’s cheek that was wet. Richie was crying. “You’re not leaving me, alright? Whatever you have to say, just don’t. You can tell me once we get out of here.”

There was something in Richie’s tone. It took Eddie a second, but he was quick to pick up on it. It was desperation. Richie was scared. Richie didn’t want to face what was happening.

Eddie could feel his vision fading in and out, just wanting to close his eyes. But they were almost there. Eddie could feel it.

He also had something to say before that. He had to say it.

“Richie--” He could see Richie gearing up to interrupt him again, a fire in his eyes, but Eddie rushed to get it out before that could happen. “I love you..”

He watched as Richie froze momentarily, any berating dying in his throat. Eddie didn’t care what happened after this. He just needed Richie to know the truth before he left the world. If he died, if they all died, he just wanted Richie to know how he really felt about him. His best friend. The boy who made terrible mom jokes and baited Eddie like no other. The boy who never shut up but made him laugh all the time. The boy who didn’t want to share the hammock when his ten minutes was up.

Now they were adults, but Eddie didn’t feel any differently. Richie was the same person he had loved all that time ago.

“H-hey, what’d I tell you? No more bombshells until I get you out of here. Give a guy a ch-chance to stop shitting his pants before--” Richie choked up, unable to finish, but all Eddie could do was smile fondly at him―the same person he’d fell in love with.

Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed, his thumb softly stroking over the flesh of Richie’s cheek and feeling hot tears continuously flowing. “Please open your eyes, Eds. We--we’re almost there. You have to wait for me to say it back.”

"Don’t... call me Eds...” He barely got out through a chuckled whisper. Eddie couldn’t hold on any longer. He felt drained and he just wanted to sleep. So he did.

---

Lights. That was the first thing. Lights.

Then there was noise. It sounded muffled, but it was there. The muffling noises slowly began to turn into ringing, and then the ringing shifted into voices.

After that? That was when sensation started to return. There was a tingling sensation in both his arms and legs and Eddie felt like it was impossible to move. Along with that, it felt like his whole entire chest was burning and he wanted that to stop. Except, it was as if he were in a fog; A half-sleep, half-awake state.

But then there was a gasp that made his muscles twitch with a jolt of fear. That had been much louder than the voices he heard in the background. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice practically screaming for a doctor that Eddie realized something.

He wasn’t dead.

Blearily, Eddie began to blink his eyes open slowly and drowsily, everything a blur to his vision. He wasn’t all the way there yet. All he knew was that he wasn’t dead and that Richie was there.

That was enough comfort for Eddie to give in to the wave of exhaustion that kept trying to pull him back under.

---

This second time around was a lot more unpleasant.

Where before he had been slowly trying to adjust to becoming conscious once again, this time had no compulsion or the sympathy to make his awakening less harsh.

Eddie could feel something in his mouth and throat that was making it difficult to breathe and immediately, he reached his left arm up to try and pull out the offending device, eyes still closed and the action more subconscious than anything else.

But a hand grabbed onto his and stopped him, easily lowering his hand back down to the bed. “Hey, relax. Open your eyes, Eds.”

That voice.

It was like that was all he needed and after blinking a few times, Eddie was finally seeing.

There Richie was, sitting right on the bed next to him and looking like he hadn’t seen a shower in weeks.

Eddie tried to grumble something, but the tube prevented him from speaking and again, he attempted to reach up to dislodge it, but Richie was still holding onto his hand and keeping him from doing so.

“Someone is coming right now.” He heard a female’s voice and turned his head slowly to see Beverly standing at the door, her arms crossed over her chest and a look of relief on her face.

Now that he was starting to come to even more, he could see that the others were there too, every pair of eyes trained on him. It didn’t take Eddie long to figure out they were at the hospital, but now he had to recall how he got there in the first place.

It.

Eddie could feel a small dread building up in his stomach, and it was like that reaction was enough to remind him of the fact that he was injured, feeling a pang in his lower shoulder that started to throb the faster his heart began to beat.

“Eddie, breathe.” His eyes flickered right back over to Richie again, watching tears stream down Richie’s face. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We did it.”

We did it.

Before he could even try to process it, they weren’t alone anymore.

Hours later, after the assisting tube removal, multiple test, and pain-killer induced sleeping, Eddie was finally coming to. This time, he was alert.

He looked around the dark hospital room and his friends were no longer there, but there was one person there in the chair besides his bed, body draped over and face pushed into Eddie’s bed.

A fond smile came onto Eddie’s lips and his hand moved to rest against the top of Richie’s head, gently running fingers through his hair. There was so many questions Eddie had, but he didn’t think he could voice any of them. He was just so relieved. He was relieved that he wasn’t dead; Relieved that he saw the others were okay; Relieved that Richie was here.

It was foggy, but Eddie remembered. He remembered entering Neibolt. He remembered going to the well. He remembered entering its lair deep in the ground. He remembered the horror and he remembered saving Richie, only to feel the worst pain he had ever felt in his lower right shoulder―it felt like he had completely lost that part of his torso.

Eddie’s gaze hesitantly drifted over to his right side and he saw a huge white bandage running down his arm, a sling holding it up. The discomfort he felt throbbing there, pain muted by the opioids, let him know that he hadn’t lost that side like he had been so sure he had.

Swallowing hard, he turned to look back at Richie and felt a shock run through his system when his eyes met with a pair of gorgeous blue ones.

“You’re awake.” They both said at the same time.

Richie snorted and started to sit up, and Eddie placed his now-free hand into the bedding, pushing so that he could sit up as well. He winced at the wave of pain the sudden movement created, hissing low.

“Hey, take it easy.” Richie said, his tone laced with concern as he stood and helped Eddie to sit up against propped-up pillows. Eddie threw Richie a fleeting, but thankful smile as he settled again. “You’re acting like you didn’t get skewered by a demonic spider clown.”

Eddie glared at Richie playfully, but his expression immediately softened when he looked over Richie again. Richie looked like he hadn’t slept in days and despite the joking, he could tell that his best friend was still shaken up.

“It’s okay, Rich.. we did it, right..?” Eddie’s voice was a little rough and quiet from disuse, but he knew that Richie could hear him.

Richie let out a soft sigh as he sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, and Eddie couldn’t help the warmth that shot up his spine when Richie was grabbing onto his hand. “Yeah, we.. it’s dead. For good, I think.”

Thank fuck.

Silence soon settled between them and Eddie suddenly remembered his confession just before he caved into unconsciousness, causing a bright red blush to take over his face and for the hand Richie was still holding onto to feel like it was on fire.

He should probably say something.

“Rich--”

Eddie stopped short when he heard a quiet sniffle, and his gaze lifted from their hands to look at Richie who was crying again. He could feel his heart break a little at the sight, confused as to why Richie was crying if it was finally over.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“Don’t do that to me again.” It was whispered, but Eddie could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room. It was like the air was vacuumed so that he and Richie could talk without any interruption or overhearing. “You... you didn’t wait for me to say that I love you too.”

Eddie could feel his face becoming hot again, the heat rushing through his body and making him shudder involuntarily as tears began to develop in his eyes. Richie loved him too. “Richie...”

“No, Eddie. They thought you died, that you would die if you weren’t already dead, but I didn’t care. We carried you because I knew.. I didn’t know, but I just didn’t fucking care. I needed you to be okay and for fucks sake, if you weren’t, I wasn’t gonna leave you down there. Eddie, just let me―I have always been in love with you, okay? Ever since we were stupid fucking teenagers. I wanted to tell you back then. I did. But.. I was so fucking scared. I couldn’t lose you. I would rather have you in my life than not at all. We all know how they treated fags, right? I should have known you would never be like that.”

There was an intensity in Richie’s voice that had Eddie in awe, unable to blink or speak. Richie had loved him this entire time? “Even... even when I forgot, there was always something missing. Not just our childhoods or friendships or family, but you, Eddie. I might not have been able to name it, but fuck, it’s always been you, Eddie.”

Richie’s voice grew weak, probably from trying not to sob, and Eddie knew he needed a moment. Gently, he broke his hand from Richie’s grasp and moved it to cup Richie’s cheek instead, giving him a watery smile as tears silently streamed down Eddie’s face as well.

“You know, Richie.. I would watch your comedy specials sometimes. I.. of course, I couldn’t remember you. But I would always laugh. I would sit there thinking ‘god, this idiot reminds me of someone who I grew up with’. I was always on the cusp. Always so fucking wistful whenever I watched those specials.

“S-so... y’know.. you weren’t the only one missing something. It took me coming back here to realize that I married someone who was exactly like my mom.” Eddie made a face of distaste, gently slapping at Richie’s shoulder when he laughed at the revelation. “Fuck off, alright? It’s fucked up, I know. But Myra was safety, Rich. I.. I didn’t have to think about the way I felt about other men when I had her constantly reminding me that I had to be good.

“I thought I was gonna die down there, Richie. I knew that if I died, if we all died, that I needed you to know the truth of how I felt about you. You made me feel like it was okay to be myself. You.. you just make me feel okay, Richie―”

Eddie cut off short when he suddenly felt a warm pair of lips pressing to his and he was already melting, eyes wide and body shaking from it.

It was too quick. The kiss was only for a moment and Eddie couldn’t stop the soft whine he let out when Richie pulled away before he could kiss him back.

His hand shot up, fingers brushing over his lips as he stared at Richie shyly with a bright red blush on his face. It definitely made him feel better to see Richie’s ears flushed just as brightly, looking as if he would freak out at any second.

Eddie couldn’t let that happen, could he?

Thankfully, Richie hadn’t gone too far and Eddie was able to lean in and close the space between their lips again, kissing Richie with a tenderness he hadn’t realized he was capable of. Once he felt Richie relax and kiss him back, his hand moved to the back of Richie’s neck, allowing their connection to continue for a little while longer.

When they pulled away this time, they both were a little breathless and Eddie couldn’t help the smile that found his face when he saw Richie grinning at him.

“I’m not letting you go this time. I swear it.” Richie promised. Eddie’s eyelashes fluttered when he felt Richie cup his cheeks and he sighed quietly when Richie pressed a small peck to his lips.

“Good. I don’t want you to. Now, tell me where the others went and how you were able to stay.” Eddie demanded as he relaxed back into the pillows, and Richie grinned sheepishly at Eddie after dropping his hands.

“I might have lied and told them that I was your husband.”

“Richie, what?! What the hell were you thinking? You know that they can figure out if that shit isn’t true, right?”

“Oh, relax, spaghetti. I had to find a way fucking somehow, didn’t I? S’not like it won’t be true in the future.”

Eddie could feel his heart squeeze hard in his chest and he knew that he was fucked in the best way possible. He would have to deal with Richie ‘the trashmouth’ Tozier for the rest of his life, now.

He was okay with that.

---

“Richie, I thought we were meeting with the others one last time.”

Eddie huffed out as he followed Richie across the bridge, wishing he could take his itchy cast off. He had broken in his arm in several places and apparently had been lucky that his arm wasn’t gone, or better yet, that he wasn’t dead. Eddie knew that he had almost died a few times, but he liked to believe that he had held out for his friends. For Richie.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Look, I just have one thing to show you, and then we’ll go. Calm that cute ass of yours down.” Richie winked, and Eddie rolled his eyes playfully at his boyfriend.

“You’re the worst.” He mumbled out as they finally seemed to walk up to what Richie wanted him to see. “What’s this? Oh god, Richie, did you really just take me to this damn―“

Eddie stopped short when he saw what Richie had crouched down in front of, and he was soon walking in closer and bending down to see if he hadn’t been imagining it.

‘R +’

Was that...?

Eddie could feel tears springing into his eyes when Richie held out a pocket knife to him, his gaze warm and excited. “I.. I started it a long time ago. I.. was hoping you would finish it.”

The breath was knocked out of Eddie and he let out a choked laugh before he carefully grabbed the knife and started to kneel, helped down by Richie.

‘R + E’

The E was faded, but it was there. He had never doubted that Richie meant it when he said he had feelings for Eddie back then, but Eddie didn’t know he had done this. So many times, he walked past this bridge without thinking twice about it, and this secret had been etched there for years for only the two of them.

Eddie glanced over at Richie with nothing but love and fondness in his teary eyes, and then he got to work with his left hand. It was a little shaky because it wasn’t his dominant hand (and also because he was trying not to cry - god, Richie was such a sap), but the job got done and Eddie could feel his chest tightening. It was completed.

He thanked Richie quietly once he was helped back onto his feet, and once the pocketknife was put away, Eddie was quick to grab Richie’s hand. “Okay, loverboy. We’re etched into this bridge forever. How about we go say goodbye before we go home?”

There was no way he was going anywhere that Richie wasn’t. California had just as many people who needed limo services and it was about time that he expanded his business anyway.

When instead of a verbal answer, he got a kiss, Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed and he pressed into it, feeling a happiness he couldn’t describe.

“Yeah, guess we can go say goodbye to those fucking losers.” Richie smiled, starting to lead Eddie back the way they’d come.

Everything would be okay. They were all okay. It was over. They had defeated It, and now, they all had each other again.

789 notes · View notes

bubbyleh · 4 years

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I See La Vie en Rose - Chapter 9

hey there! quick update. chapter 10 IS posted on ao3, but it won’t be getting a tumblr mirror because it’s not really plot stuff, just stupid things i wanted to share. so follow the link on my blog if you want to check that out, or just tune back in for chapter 11 instead

Chapter 9: The Reckoning

Tommy gawks at the destruction wrought upon the pavilion, and without thinking he brings his hands to cover his mouth. Never in all his life has he seen his home so damaged. Some pillars are missing entire chunks! A few of the scorch marks are still smoking!

Where is everyone?

Drawing in a deep breath, Tommy places two fingers in his mouth and whistles as loud as he can.

Sure enough, it takes a bit, but Sunkist comes running from the direction of his house. The first trick Tommy ever taught her, and it still works like a charm! He’s never been so relieved to see her before, at least until she tackles him to the ground with licks.

“Ow,” Tommy whimpers out, feeling the pain in his bruised shoulders.

Sunkist seems to recognize his discomfort, but she keeps sniffing his face. Yeah, she can definitely tell his nose is fucked.

“Oh, Sunkist,” Tommy sits up and hugs her. “You would- you won’t believe what happened down there today.”

“Tommy?”

He breaks away from Sunkist, and holy shit, Bubby doesn’t look good. He’s very clearly just stumbled in, leaning on one of the intact pillars for support. Tommy almost cries out for him, but Bubby cuts him off.

“I thought I heard you call for Sunkist,” he continues. “What the hell are you doing back here?”

In an instant, Tommy goes from concerned for his family’s well-being to seeing red.

“What- what am I doing!?” Tommy places a hand on his chest, offended beyond belief. He struggles to push himself up with his other arm, the thrumming pain causing him to wobble slightly, but he does stand. “What have you guys been doing?! I’ve been- I’ve been trying to get in contact with you all afternoon!”

Bubby narrows his eyes at Tommy, and for a split second he glances behind himself, back towards Benrey and Gordon’s home.

“Where’s the kid?” he asks, as if noticing for the first time Joshua isn’t present.

“He, uh. Darnold’s watching him.” Tommy frowns. Well, now that he knows things are somewhat okay up here, he turns back to his dog. “Actually, Sunkist? Could you- could you head down and keep an eye on them f-for me?” He’d appreciate something divine watching over them for a bit.

Sunkist barks in response, trotting into the Viewing Pool. She disappears with a flash, and Tommy feels like he has one less thing to worry about.

Before Tommy can ask a single question, Bubby has already turned around, gesturing for him to follow. Catching up, Tommy notices that Bubby’s legs are stiff as he walks, as if he has to mentally will them to bend.

“What- Bubby, what happened?” Tommy asks.

Bubby sighs. “Come on. I’m sure everyone is gonna want to see you.”

Wow, this is a whole new level of brushing off! Bubby’s not addressing the fact that wherever he looks, Tommy sees signs of a fight in the place he’s known as home his whole life. He really didn’t think it could get this bad.

But then again, what was Tommy supposed to think? They never told him anything.

They make it to Gordon and Benrey’s house, the door to which Bubby pushes open without knocking. Tommy almost calls him rude for it, but then he catches sight of the scene inside.

Coomer is immediately on Bubby, lecturing him for sneaking out while he’s so fragile. Tommy spies his dad in the corner, his gaze focused intently on the couch. And on that couch sits Benrey, Gordon passed out and laying in his lap. All of them look roughed up.

“Stop, Harold.” Bubby pushes his fretting husband’s hands away. “I’m fine, see?” He pauses, for the briefest of moments. “Look who I found.”

And just like that, everyone’s attention is turned to Tommy in the doorway. But Tommy’s stuck on the one person who can’t look at him, his thoughts going a mile a minute. ‘Gordon isn’t moving why isn’t he moving is he okay what happened-’

A pair of hands squish his face, and Tommy realizes it’s his dad. He’s looking down at him with such a sad look, and Tommy’s not sure if it’s intentional, but he stands right in front of him, blocking his view.

“Oh, oh dear, Tommy,” Gman says. “What happ..ened to your, nose?”

Tommy’s stunned expression turns to a glare. “Wh- my nose!? You want- you want to talk about my nose?!”

Gman obviously wasn’t expecting a hostile reaction to that, releasing his son’s face and backing away. It does little to calm Tommy.

“Do you- you have any idea how worried I’ve been!?” Tommy shouts. “You weren’t answering anything! And I come back, and- and everything is fucked up, and you’re just- just pretending nothing happened!?”

Bubby and Coomer no longer meet his eyes, but Gman just stares. Tommy continues, “Did- did any of you even check your phones!? I fucking fought a Skeleton today, and it-” All of Tommy’s fury vasnishes in an instant. Just remembering the empty feeling he got looking into that thing’s eye sockets is enough to twist his stomach. “It- s-so much about that was- it tried something-”

Tommy’s legs give out. He can feel his father by his side, holding onto him, and he thinks Coomer is there too. But his head is racing and he’s gripping at it as though he could slow it down somehow. “It- it was so cold, and everything was- was moving except me, and I couldn’t think, and if it wasn’t for-”

“It tried to possess you, bro,” Benrey finally speaks up. “Same as what it did to Gordon.” He runs a hand through Gordon’s hair.

Tommy blinks. “W-what?”

“I mean, I guess the… the cat’s out of the bag, or whatever.” Benrey sighs. “Skeletons possess people. Us mostly.”

“You’re- you’re joking?”

Bubby, who’s taken to leaning on one of the walls, shakes his head. “He isn’t.”

“Perhaps this conversation is best saved for when our friend over there wakes up, hm?” Coomer points at Gordon.

It takes Tommy a moment to process it all. ‘When Gordon wakes up.’ His dad pulls him to his chest, and making sure that he avoids his nose, Tommy presses into him with his forehead. He’s searching for a word, something he’s feeling, and then he realizes it’s trusted.

He feels trusted.

☆○☆○☆

“Your nose looks fucked,” Benrey comments from across the kitchen table. Coomer had convinced him to abandon his vigil over Gordon in favor of getting something to eat, but so far all he had done was make a few tonedeaf remarks Tommy’s way.

“Uh-huh,” Tommy responds, more preoccupied with his phone.

Darnold ♡: Wait they don’t know that I know?

Tommy: I’m not sure how to tell them???

Darnold ♡: I mean, it sounds like you’ve done enough “telling” for today Darnold ♡: So maybe don’t?

Tommy: Yeah? Then what? Tommy: They’re gonna be teasing you next time you meet!! :(

Darnold ♡: Well that just makes THEM look stupid, right?

Whatever stupid thing Benrey is about to say next is interrupted by a groan from the next room over. They both meet eyes, before scrambling out of the kitchen.

Tommy: Oh hang on Gordon’s awake!!!!!! :D

Benrey beats Tommy by a longshot, sliding to his knees in front of the couch and pulling Gordon into a hug. This only serves to agitate him.

“Ugh, Benrey!” Gordon complains, and it’s the most emotion Tommy’s heard from Gordon in a week. He almost cries.

Benrey isn’t deterred, only hugs Gordon tighter as he begins to ramble. “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice I should have seen it I’m sorry Gordon I’m so sorry-”

Gordon sits up, Benrey still clutching him like a koala and apologizing. He barely seems to register it, though, instead bringing a hand to his head and wincing. “My head is fucking killing me,” he mumbles.

“We’re all hurting, asshole, get in line,” Bubby snarks. He’s sitting with his legs crossed on the other side of the room.

Coomer, who had previously been sitting next to Bubby, has made his way to the couch. He places a hand on Gordon’s back and smiles at him. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Gordon!”

Tommy can’t help it anymore. With a wide smile he jumps onto the couch next to Gordon, pulling him (and by extension Benrey) into a hug. “Thank- thank goodness you’re okay!” And yup, Tommy can definitely feel himself crying now, but he doesn’t really care! Gordon’s back!

Having gotten a few more of his faculties in order, Gordon starts to realize that things aren’t exactly normal. Like, for example, everyone around him is injured to varying degrees. “What- why do you guys look like shit?” he asks.

Benrey still hasn’t broken out of his longform apology to make any stunning rebuttals, so Tommy just answers him. “I got- I got punched in the face by a Skeleton,” he nods.

“Holy shit, Tommy,” Gordon actually processes his appearance for the first time. “Is that broken? I can-” He worms his hand out from the hug mess, and before Tommy can protest that he really shouldn’t be using his powers right now, the pain in his face is gone in a flash.

Sometimes it pays to be friends with a god with a minor healing domain. Not when he heals you instead of resting like he should be doing, but other, more fun times.

Tommy gasps. “Gordon! No! You should- you shouldn’t be blessing people, right now!”

“I also got punched in the face by a Skeleton!” Bubby points at his bruised cheek. “The Skeleton was just inside Gordon.”

Oh. Well. He just said it, didn’t he?

“The… the what?” Gordon questions, clearly distressed.

“B-Bubby!” Tommy yells at him. “Why did you say that!?”

“What? We’re sharing things today!” Bubby gestures to himself. “I, for one, would want someone to tell me if I punched them like that!”

“The Skeleton was… inside me?” Gordon stammers out. Slowly, Tommy slinks his arms away from him, and he can see Benrey doing the same.

Gman steps in. “What Bubby, is. Saying, is that. You’ve been, possess...ed, by a. Skeleton, for a whole week.”

“What?! No, they- they can do that!?” Gordon shouts. Tommy thinks he’s about two seconds away from having to stop Gordon from pulling his own hair, when…

“They did it to me.”

Tommy hadn’t expected Benrey to speak up again, not since he revealed the fact Skeletons could possess people in the first place. But here he was, staring straight down at the ground, sitting on his hands.

“Um, we… We knew the Skeletons and their cult were bad for a long time,” Benrey continues. “But we didn’t… know. How bad.” He sighs, looking towards Tommy and Gordon. “I think if we told you guys, probably wouldn’t suck as much as it has. You wouldn’t have been hurt, Gordon.”

Gman places a hand on his son’s back as Benrey talks. Bubby has found his way back to Coomer’s side. All of them have grim expressions on their face, listening to a story to which they know the ending.

“So, uh. Two-thousands years ago. I went down to look at them, and they-” Benrey scratches the side of his face. “I don’t remember much after that, but they got me.”

Benrey draws his knees to his chest. “They made me do a lot of things. I didn’t… World got- got fucked. Society two time, second one didn’t like magic so much.”

Things suddenly start making a lot more sense. It’s like a missing puzzle piece gets clicked into place in Tommy’s mind, or a lightswitch gets turned on, or something like that. They haven’t been hiding this out of malice, or messing with the new guys, it was-

Gordon reaches out, grabbing onto one of Benrey’s hands. He cups his husband’s face gently, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Hey, Benrey, look at me,” he whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here, you’re safe.” Benrey launches forward, clinging onto Gordon, and Gordon holds him.

It was fear.

Tommy turns to the others. He has a feeling Benrey is done talking. “But… but why didn’t they do anything this time?” he asks them. “If- if they wanted to destroy things, why wait?”

“Well Tommy, if I had to guess,” Coomer hypothesizes. “We were able to knock Benrey back to normal relatively easily last time, as well as pummel the Skeletons we did find to the ground. Perhaps they wanted to weaken us from the inside before attempt number two?”

Goodness, this is a lot for Tommy to process right now. A societal-wide reckoning caused by the possession of one of his dearest friends? It’s a little much. He leans back on the couch. Damn it, this must be what Darnold felt like earlier.

“Wait a second,” Gordon suddenly pipes up. “Where the fuck is Joshua?”

Tommy pulls out his phone. “He’s with Darnold. He knows what’s been going on, we’ve been texting. It’s fine.”

“Oh, good,” Gordon sighs, but then he changes his tune. “Wait, he KNOWS?!”

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #sodashipping #somewhat darnold's a little missing in this chapter #he's fine #god au #my writing #i see la vie en rose #hlvrai gods au

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 4 years

Text

Director’s Commentary- Lovesick Addiction, Keith joins Lance in church as he mourns

My commentary is in bold italics- I hope it’s okay I focused on the shoebox because the whole church scene was like... 6 pages and half of it was crying....

Keith chewed on his lower lip for a second before nodding. “I want to be here with you.” I’m gonna be honest. I know I’ve gotten feedback on the realism of Lance’s mourning, but I have no idea how realistic I made Keith as a partner who is also becoming part of it. I don’t actually know how hard it may have been for Keith to sit there and open the shoe box with Lance, but I like to think that although it is a bit uncomfortable, the jealousy is gone and it’s something Keith does want to actively be part of with Lance out of love for him. Which is why I made him stay even in the midst of Lance’s mourning period and after so long without hearing from Lance.

Lance turned toward him and put the box between them. He took a breath and stared at it for a minute. Keith kept his eyes on him while he prepared himself. Then Lance reached out and pulled the lid of the shoebox away.

There were several papers, photos, and even pieces of jewelry. Lance let out a shaky breath and he let his fingers skim over the photos. They had a grainy sort of appearance, like they were photos taken with phones then printed at a Walgreens. A couple were those new, small polaroids.

Lance looked at them and took a deep breath that left him in a shaky exhale. It kind of killed me not getting a chance to write this section in Lance’s POV because this is huge for him. He’s allowing and inviting both worlds to merge here in a place of faith which he had been lacking. He’s inviting this acknowledgement of both Allura and Keith as romantic partners and it’s HUGE, especially after so long keeping them separate and grieving her separately. “This was the first Christmas we spent as a couple. She gave me the cologne you saw in my bathroom that day.”

He looked at the photo in Lance’s hands. The two of them bundled up with scarves and beanies and thick jackets so all you could really see was her hair spilling around her shoulders and their faces as they laughed in the middle of a kiss.

It felt jarring to see Lance kissing someone else. The bitterness Keith used to have to stuff down wasn’t there, just… discomfort. I also really wanted this scene to show the growth and security Keith feels in the relationship. He would NOT have been ready for this if they’d opened the box all those chapter ago when Lance first mentioned the box. Lance put the photo back inside and looked at the others. There was a silly selfie of the two of them where Allura’s hair covered both their faces because the wind was blowing it. Keith could still see their laughing smiles between the strands, the scrunch of their eyes as they winced. There was one someone had taken of them while they sat, each with a book in their hands. Lance seemed to be looking up as if whoever was snapping the photo had called his name suddenly. Allura was leaning against him, focused on her book. They were both dressed up.

“Where’d you guys go?” I know it seems like Keith asking stuff is just a given, but.... Honestly he could’ve stayed quiet the whole time and just let Lance talk when he needed/wanted. But I had this question from Keith’s end because I wanted to show that Keith is welcoming this information, this conversation. It’s not one sided. It’s a conversation and Keith wants to be part of it. He wants Lance to trust him with this, wants him to feel safe and comfortable talking about it. So he asks and he’s curious and it’s him opening that space for Lance. Reassuring him that he means it when he says he wants to be there.

Lance smiled sadly. “That was after Ash Wednesday. See the smear on our foreheads?” He sighed. “We actually weren’t dating yet in that one. I also wanted to make sure people recognized that his relationship with Allura wasn’t always romantic. There was friendship there, a bond that went back to childhood. A closeness that grew before the romance. It’s mentioned either before or shortly after this excerpt but I needed to drive home the fact that Lance is not only mourning a lover, he’s mourning a friend. Even when he’s been with Keith for 30 years, he will still mourn Allura because she was still his friend of several years. But my dad kept telling me to buck up and be a man and ask her out already.” Keith hummed and nodded. He looked into the box and skimmed the other contents. “Are you sure this is okay?” Lance asked.

He met Lance’s eyes and smiled sheepishly. “It’s a little strange. But I’m okay.” He pointed inside the box. “What’s with the index card covered in algebra equations?” The index card, I just really wanted a mundane object that would show how easy and natural their relationship was but also didn’t want it to be a sticky note because of that Valentine’s day headcannon I have for them.

Lance set the photos down and lifted the index card. There were a bunch of sticky notes attached to the other side of it, stacked sloppily over each other.

“This is from one of the classes we shared for gen ed. She left me a note on it when I wasn’t looking, and I just found it between my study guides.” He peeled the sticky notes off and Keith saw some loopy, round handwriting scrawled across the other side in black marker.

I like the look on your face when you get confused. It’s cute. -Ax

Keith knew exactly what she was talking about. That scrunch of his eyebrows, the way he pressed his lips together in a slight pout, the way his eyes would squint suspiciously, all topped with a slight tilt of his head. It was fucking adorable. So. I really liked the idea of creating a sense of similarity between Keith and Allura through Lance. The two people who love(d) him in this romantic way both knew him well enough to know what his confused face was and to find it endearing. They’re similar in their love for Lance, and it also shows that there’s parts that are integral to Lance that didn’t disappear after Allura’s death. Even if it’s as small as a facial expression.

“The professor was trying to explain logarithms. I never understood those,” Lance said. He flipped the edges of the sticky notes. “She used to leave me notes in my stuff. In my backpack. Between the pages of my books. In my wallet. Telling me to listen for the birds that day. Things that reminded her of me. Or just to remind me that… she loved me.” I want to expand on this in the prequels, but the idea was that Allura liked to mention things Lance could make poetry out of. While also letting him experience the present. As someone who knew she was on limited time, Allura was often the one reigning Lance back to just be present and enjoy the moment (something else Keith and Allura have in common) when Lance wanted to rush forward and plan the future. So she mentioned little things that could help him be present like bird songs. He traced the loops of her writing and pressed his other hand to his eyes.

He took a moment to pull himself together, placing the stack of notes back inside the box. While Lance breathed, Keith noticed the glint of a chain and a bracelet. The cross on the chain and the little infinity sign on the bracelet were the same as the ones Allura had been wearing in the photos. He could see them clearly on a small polaroid of Allura laying out in the sun- the very same cross and bracelet. I wanted the jewelry to stand out because they didn’t go to Coran and they weren’t buried with her. They were given to Lance.

“She really loved you,” Keith said softly.

Lance looked over at him and managed a nearly imperceptible nod. “I miss her. And it just sucks that… this isn’t the kind of missing someone where you know you can drive a few hours to see them or just wait a few months to be with them. It’s permanent. There’s no possibility at all and I can’t do anything about it.” Depending on how long you’ve followed me, you may or may not know I’m thanatophobic. So I basically put the fears I have of death into this. It’s kind of surreal trying to get into your head when someone is gone in a permanent way that has no chance of changing and I tried to phrase it in a way that would carry that weight of pain and finality. As he spoke, his voice broke more and more between whispers, some words barely distinguishable. “And when that reality hits me I just feel… so powerless and small.”

Seeing Lance break down further, Keith got up and moved to the other side of Lance so he could wrap his arms around him. Lance pressed his hands to Keith’s chest.

At first, Keith thought Lance was trying to push him back. That he might need space. But when Keith started to let him go, Lance’s body curled further into him. His palm pressed against his chest, seeking something. Seeking Keith’s heartbeat. Lance’s face tucked into the curve of his neck. Lance’s way to be present. The last time he did this was after a nightmare of Keith dying, so for Lance, the heartbeat is a way of comforting himself with the knowledge that the person he loves is alive.

They stayed that way for a long time. Keith let his finger twirl an unruly lock of hair by his ear, his other arm wrapped around Lance and gently skimming his fingers over him back. Lance kept his hand at Keith’s chest, occasionally pressing harder, occasionally letting his hand slip before settling back in place.

Eventually, Lance lifted his head. “I’m gonna pray a little,” he said with a tired, raspy voice. “Then we can go back. If you’d rather wait in the car, you can.”

Keith hummed and looked around at whoever was left still praying. “Can you show me how? Teach me one of the prayers you like so I can do it with you?”

I’ve mentioned why this last bit matters so much to me. I mean for one, it’s a big step that Lance made the step on his own to voluntarily go to church and another that he’s sitting to have his conversation with God. But there’s also so much in the fact that Keith is also offering to join him in this because he knows what it means to Lance. Anyway this is one of my favorite parts especially with the part the follows this where Lance gives him a simple little kiss and Keith is very confused and wondering if it’s allowed. That part, I think shows another merging of worlds for Lance. A merge of his faith with his identity as someone who loves a boy.

#director's commentary

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Married at first sight reddie au part 2

Summary: Richie and Eddie’s honeymoon

A/N: this is a part two, I hope you enjoy it. Again this was based on mafs Australia, so I don’t know if this is how it goes in all the variants of the show. Please let me know what you think!

warning: there’s a curse word in here somewhere, there’s also a very brief mention of (not) having sex

tagged: @juhavs

Eddie didn’t think he would, but he absolutely loves Hawaii. Richie and him had arrived only two days before, but he could safely say he had never laughed as hard before in his life.

Richie was the funniest guy Eddie had ever been on a date with. Although technically he was already married to the man.

He wasn’t always funny, as he made an awful lot of mom-jokes, but overall, Eddie would say he really did deserve the fame he got from being a comedian. Richie was a great guy, he never even asked what the whole mom debacle at the wedding had been about. instead he had told the camera’s that it was all part of a game he had thought off, trying to spare Eddie the embarrassment. When Eddie had profoundly apologized on the plane, the only time they weren’t being filmed, Richie had just shrugged and said that it was ‘cool’. And that he understood that some parents just weren’t all that accepting.

There was so much more to it that Richie didn’t know, but Eddie didn’t want to tell him all about his childhood, especially considering they had only known each other for five days.

Eddie had thought it would be awkward, that he wouldn’t be know what to say, but with Richie conversation just seemed to flow naturally. It helped of course that Richie wouldn’t ever shut up, even as it was already midnight. Eddie would never tell him so, but he cherished those moments. The camera wasn’t there, and Eddie didn’t feel like he had to keep information from Richie. He found himself wanting to kiss Richie at random times, but his fear of Richie’s germs stopped him. That was just an excuse Eddie knew, because when Richie initiated the kiss, Eddie didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

When Eddie was growing up, he had always suspected that everyone disliked him because he was so sick. He had convinced himself that nobody, or at least most people, wanted to be his friend because they were afraid that they would contain what he had. When he found out that he wasn’t really sick, thanks to one of a routine control test he had to take at work, he figured it had nothing to do with that, it just had to do with his personality. His childhood was very vague, he barely remembered anything about it. He was pretty sure there was a group of kids that would sometimes talked to him, but with all the time he spend inside, he knew that there was no way that they were close.

Eddie didn’t necessarily hate himself, but he did dislike a lot of things about himself. He hated how he couldn’t sit down in a chair without wiping it off at least 10 times, how he sometimes got so irrationally angry or worked up it even scared himself, and he despised how he let his mother just walk over him. He knew he should stand up for himself, but it was hard when all his life he had been thought to agree to everything she said. He hated how when he felt a little sick he would immediately panic, thinking the worst. Eddie had assumed Richie would hate those things about him too.

It seemed that Richie was the complete opposite of what Eddie had suspected. When they arrived at their hotel the first day, Eddie had refused to take a shower without cleaning it himself, and Richie had watched him do it in amusement. He had offered to help Eddie, but Eddie had thought Richie was making fun of him. That almost turned into a fight. Eddie had watched Eddie with a frown, his eyes lightly sad because Richie had seemed like a nice enough guy to not laugh at him in his face. Richie had looked confused, his mouth falling open slightly, before shaking his head frantically. It looked almost comical. ‘I didn’t mean it like that Eds’

Eddie had believed him. Still, he hadn’t wanted Richie’s help, he wanted to do it in his own. Instead of reentering the bedroom, Richie kept Eddie company the entire time it took for him to clean the shower. He never made him feel like an idiot for wanting to clean the shower. After seeing Eddie’s pinched look when he ate on the bed, he stopped eating there as well. He seemed to be able to read whatever Eddie needed or wanted to do, which was weird sometimes, like when Richie just ordered him a strawberry milkshake, even if he had no way of knowing which one Eddie would prefer.

They slept together too, although Eddie had insisted on a wall of pillows between them. There was only one bed, and Eddie had said he’d sleep on the couch, but Richie had convinced him that there was no need to do that. For some reason, they’d always end up destroying the pillow wall, waking up with Richie slightly on top of Eddie, with their legs tangled together. When they woke up, they didn’t talk about it. Eddie was glad that the camera’s didn’t film them in that position.

They had slept together, but they hadn’t slept together yet, in the more sexual meaning of the word. He didn’t know if Richie was just respecting him, or if he didn’t feel any attraction towards him. Sometimes he wished he could hear what Richie was saying about him in interviews.

It wasn’t all great, Richie could be annoying at times, and they bickered constantly about anything. The second day that had bickered about which restaurant they were going to eat in, and the third day Richie had wanted to go in the sea while Eddie tried to persuade him into staying in the pool, because that was way more hygienic than the sea. Still, it was endearing and it made for some pretty interesting topics to be discussed.

When Eddie watched Richie clean his hand thoroughly on the second day of their honeymoon, he finally dared to reach for Richie’s hand. All his life Eddie had shied away from people’s touches, only ever being touch when it was to scold. But he was determined to break that mindset with Richie. He tried to do it subtly, in the middle of a conversation, but his face turned tomato red, and he knew Richie could see how much he was stressing out.

Richie himself, stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth finally stopping for a few seconds, before gripping back tightly and continuing on as if nothing happened. From the corner of his eye, he could see that Richie’s face mirrored his. Ever since they were holding hands all the time.

His mother was probably going to have a fit when she saw it on the show, but Eddie couldn’t care less. He was still nervous around the camera’s but Richie seemed to be aswell, so it was alright.

Eddie locked eyes with himself in the mirror, fixing his hair on last time before nodding and walking out of the bathroom without looking back. It was the final night of their honeymoon, and Richie had planned a nice romantic dinner on the beach. He had left earlier saying he had to prepare the table, which Eddie found funny, because really, the restaurant would normally take care of that, Richie was just being extra.

As he was walking towards the spot where he and Richie had agreed to meet, he let his eye wonder the resort for the final time. The hotel had been top notch, complete with a build in spa, an arcade, a full sports facility. Their hotel room looked out upon the ocean and the beach, and Eddie would secretly check Richie out when he took his morning swim.

He was going to miss this place. It was nice to get away from the busy schedule of a normal week, so Eddie was glad for the vacation. He hoped he and Richie were still going to get along when they went to their assigned apartment. In last year’s season, Eddie had seen how many couples broke apart because they found the other applicants more attractive. He sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be the case here.

He saw Richie sitting at as table at the beach, and he was wearing an Hawaiian shirt, his favorite Eddie was sure. When Richie opened his suitcase, Eddie saw that he only had the same ugly Hawaiian shirt in his suitcase, only in different colors. Eddie had teased Richie with it, and he hated to admit it but it did look really good on Richie.

Richie chose that exact moment to look up, seeing Eddie stand a few feet away, and excitedly jumped up. He was smiling, adjusting his glasses as he gestured with his hands.

‘Welcome to casa del Tozier, Eds.’ He said with a smirk, and he seemed really proud of himself.

‘It’s a restaurant you dumbass,’ Eddie teased, following it up with a quick, ‘and don’t call me that.’

Richie just smirked, trudging back towards the table with Eddie following closely. Richie had really tried his best. There were rose petals on the table, a flowers bunch with sea shells. There were Blue napkins, who honestly looked as wrinkled as Eddie’s grandma, but he did appreciate the gesture.

‘You went to a lot of trouble. Thank you.’ Eddie told him sincerely. Richie rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, suddenly losing his nerve.

‘It was nothing’, he replied instead. ‘I hope you enjoy the flowers, I was supposed to get them for your mom but you know since I’m here with you’, Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. ‘Gee thanks Rich, how did I ever get so lucky to be paired with you.’

They laughed, and Eddie nervously glanced at the camera’s currently pointed at him. Richie must have sensed his discomfort, for he bumped his knee against Eddie’s sending him a little smile.

A waitress for the hotel interrupted them then, putting a plate of oysters in front of them. Richie looked at it in disgust, until he noticed that Eddie was looking at him.

‘I ordered for us already if that’s okay, it was my day to choose remember?’

Eddie did remember, he and Richie had agreed that they each had every other day to choose an activity for the day. It was almost creepy has well they seemed to know each other. On his first day of choosing, Eddie had decided to visit the arcade in the hotel with Richie, watching as he was completely enwrapped with a game called street fighter. When Richie got his chance to decided what they would die, he came up with the idea to play baseball, which Eddie refused at first. It turns out that Eddie was really fast, and he really did enjoy playing baseball. He saw Richie looking nervous, and it warmed his heart that he had tried to make this meal as good as possible. Even though Eddie hated oysters.

Eddie smiles slyly, picking up on of the oysters. He swallowed it quickly, trying his best to keep his face neutral. ‘Actually I’m allergic to oysters.’

He watched Richie spit out his food, his face turning a pale white. ‘W-w-what?’ He asked, his voice shaking. Eddie hooted of laughter, tears nearly streaming over his cheeks. Once Richie realized that Eddie was just playing him, he laughed too. When the main dish came, fucking spaghetti, it was Richie’s turn to crack-up.

The dinner was great, despite the fact that choices were a little off. Eddie enjoyed every single meal, though he did recoiled when he saw a piece of spaghetti dangling out of Richie’s mouth. For dessert Richie did pick an Hawaiian dish. It was called Guava chiffon cake. Eddie was nervous for trying it, because he wasn’t used to consuming a load of sugar at the same time, but Richie managed to persuade him to try it, and Eddie absolutely loved it. It was light and creamy and sweet, and Eddie had never thought he could like a dessert that much.

After the meal, when the evening was coming to a close, one of the producers arrived with what they called ‘the honesty box’. A box full of questions which both Eddie and Richie had to answer honestly. Eddie went first, his hand shaking as he reached for one of the questions. It took a few seconds for his vision to focus. ‘Are you here for the right reason’, he read of the card, locking eyes with Richie straight after.

He wasn’t worried about this question, because he knew that Richie was a genuine guy. Richie smirked at him, ‘well to be honest Eddie Spaghetti, I joined for your mom’, Richie answered, but he was interrupted by Eddie. ‘No, no, beep beep Richie, answer straight right now.’

Richie’s smile fell off his face. ‘What did you just say?’

Eddie balked, panicking straight away. He wondered what he said wrong. ‘I... I’m sorry.’

Richie shook his head, plastering a smile so fake even Eddie could tell it was a hoax. ‘It’s okay’, Richie said, reaching across the table to rub his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles.

‘I joined because my manager wanted me to join, and because I was really tired of just being by myself.’ Richie confessed.

Eddie wasn’t surprised by that, Richie had admitted it too him in the car ride to their wedding venue, just as Eddie had admitted that his mother was the reason he was here. The next question was a bit harder for Richie to answer. ‘Do you think you could fall in love with me?’ This time Eddie was really interested in what Richie’s answer would be.

He glanced straight into the camera accidentally. He found it difficult to look straight into Richie’s eyes, and he saw that Richie was avoiding his aswell. ‘Yeah, I think so. Almost as much as I love your ass.’ He grinned. Eddie grinned too, though he did his best to hide his smile behind his hand, instead letting a groan.

Then it was Richie’s turn. He picked up a card, pretending to drop for comedian purposes. ‘What was the worst experience in your life?’ He read, tossing the card onto the table before reaching for his drink, as if he was giving Eddie some time to think about the question.

Eddie didn’t know how to respond. The answer was pretty clear to him, his childhood with all the doctor visits, but he didn’t want to tell Richie that yet. Sharing that piece of information that was closest to him, that fear that was deep enrooted in his heart, was terrifying. The weight of the inhaler he was carrying, which he didn’t even need was getting heavier by the second. He didn’t know if Richie would be turned off by his scars, by his baggage that he took with him, so he lied.

I didn’t have any friends in high school. I mean I’m pretty sure I didn’t have friends as a kid, I can’t really remember, but I’m high school it was really rough.’

It wasn’t exactly a lie. High school was hard on Eddie, just not the hardest part of his life. Richie leaned forward on the table, and when Eddie realized what he was trying to do, he leaned forward too. Their lips met in the middle, and they shared their shortest kiss yet. Richie’s lips were chapped, but for some reason that made him all the more endearing.

Eddie loved kissing Richie, it was like he could feel every emotion poured in the kiss. When Richie swiped his tongue over Eddie’s bottom lip, he opened up, allowing Richie to deepen the kiss. It was like they knew exactly what the other liked. ‘I’m sorry that happened to you Eds, I can’t imagine not wanting to be friends with you, you’re way too hot to be left alone.’ Eddie halfheartedly shoved at Richie’s shoulder. ‘Don’t call me that asshole.’ The rest of the night went by without a bump in the road.

When the night came, Richie started building the pillow wall between them again. While Eddie watched him from the bathroom, waiting until they were alone before getting rid of all the pillows. Richie looked at him in surprise, having no idea what was happening. Eddie places his hand on Richie’s cheek.

‘I think we don’t need that anymore.’ Richie agreed eagerly. Scooting over to make more room, Eddie slid beneath the soft blankets, instantly shuffling closer to Richie. He placed his head on Richie’s chest, while Richie threw his arm around his shoulders. They shared a goodnight kiss, before they finally settled in.

Richie presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. Eddie let out a sigh, twisting his fingers in the sheets beneath him. ‘It was my mom’, he said, long after he thought Richie had fallen asleep. ‘I know. You don’t have to explain right now.’ He couldn’t put in words how much he appreciated him in that moment.

‘I’m afraid that the others are going to find me boring,’ Eddie told Richie honestly. ‘What if one of the others are more interesting?’

Richie grabbed his hand. ‘Don’t worry Eds, no one could ever compare to my Spaghetti.’

‘You’re a dick,’ Eddie laughed, but he was reassured at least a little bit.

And when two days later, he met five other amazing people whom he would eventually become an amazing group with, than that would only be a plus to the whole experience.

#reddie #reddie imagine #richie x eddie #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak imagine #eddie tozier #richie tozier #My writing #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2 #the losers club imagines

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seasonson5th · 4 years

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The G-spot doesn’t exist

There is no magic button. We’re here to correct the record—and to apologize.

Once upon a time, that time being 1982, there was sex. And then, suddenly, there was sex.

The difference? A teensy half-inch ribbed nub on the upper front wall of your vagina. Scientists—and magazines (hi) and books and sex-toy companies and movies and TV shows and your roommates and your sex-ed teacher—reported that it was a universal key to The Mysterious Female Orgasm. And thus began the era when you were supposed to be able to say “it blew my mind” to your girlfriends at brunch.

Or was it three inches wide? Farther down, near your vulva? Slick instead of ribbed? Kinda springy to the touch?

Whatever, it was it. And fuck if we all didn’t work hard to find our own. Back in 1982, Cosmo told women to get there by “squatting” so it would be easier “to stick one or two fingers inside the vagina” and make the necessary “come-hither motion.” A 2020 Google search turns up thousands of road maps (“where is the G-spot?” has been searched more times than Michaels Jordan and Jackson). That cute-adjacent guy you slept with in college tried the classic pile-drive maneuver, to middling success.

🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… 🩸🩸“One inch in.”  🩸🩸🩸“Three inches in.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸“Barely in.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“Near my cervix.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“The roof of my uterus.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“The back right of my vagina.” 🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸“In a little pocket of space up near my belly button.”🩸

But it must not matter, because the G-spot economy is booming: G-spot vibrators, G-spot condoms, G-spot lube, G-spot workshops, and, for the particularly daring and/or Goop-inspired, $1,800 G-spot shots meant to plump yours for extra pleasure.

Hell, even Merriam-Webster is in on it: The G-spot is a “highly erogenous mass of tissue” in every dictionary it prints.

So then why, when we talked to the woman who helped “discover” it, did she tell us we’ve all been obsessed with the wrong thing?

THAT WOMAN IS BEVERLY WHIPPLE, PHD. SHE AND A TEAM of researchers officially coined the term “G-spot” in the early ’80s. They named the thing, which they described as a “sensitive” “small bean,” for German researcher Ernst Gräfenberg (yeah, a dude). And just like that, your most frustrating fake body part was born.

Honestly, it all got out of hand from there, says Whipple. Her team wasn’t saying that each and every woman has a G-spot. (“Women are capable of experiencing sexual pleasure many different ways,” she insists to Cosmo now. “Everyone is unique.”) And despite that bean analogy, they didn’t mean it was a spot spot. They were talking about an “area” that could simply make some women feel good. But the media (hi again!) preferred the neat and tidy version and ran with it like a sexual cure-all.

Researchers did too. In 2012, a study published in The Journal of Sexual Medicine proclaimed that of course the G-spot was real. It just wasn’t a bean. It was actually an 8.1- by 3.6-millimeter “rope-like” piece of anatomy, a “blue” and “grape-like” sac. This revelation came from gynecologic surgeon Adam Ostrzenski, MD, PhD, after his study of an 83-year-old woman’s cadaver. (He went on to sell “G-spotplasty” treatments to women.) Over the years, lots of other researchers found the G-spot to be lots of other things: “a thick patch of nerves,” “the urethral sponge,” “a gland,” “a bunch of nerves.”

For the most part, though, the thing that women were supposed to find has remained a mystery to the experts telling them to find it. Dozens of trials used surveys, pathologic specimens, imaging, and biochemical markers to try to pinpoint the elusive G-spot once and for all.

In 2006, a biopsy of women’s vaginas turned up nothing.

In 2012, a group of doctors reviewed every single piece of known data on record and found no proof that the G-spot exists.

In 2017, in the most recent and largest postmortem study to date done on 13 cadavers, researchers looked again: still nothing.

🩸🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… “Really deep in there, not close to the opening of my vagina at all.” “IDK.” “My clitoris.” “By my butt.” “Behind the clitoris.” “Right inside my vagina and to the left.” “In different places.”🩸🩸

“It’s not like pushing an elevator button or a light switch,” asserts Barry Komisaruk, PhD, a neuroscientist at Rutgers University. “It’s not a single thing.”

“I don’t think we have any evidence that the G-spot is a spot or a structure,” says Nicole Prause, PhD, a neuroscientist who studies orgasms and sexual arousal. “I’ve never understood why it was interpreted as some new sexual organ. You can’t standardize a vagina—there is no consistency across women as to where exactly we experience pleasure.”

Sure, she says, some women might have an area inside their vaginas that contains a bunch of smaller, super-sensitive areas. But some women say that when they follow Cosmo’s old two-finger come-hither advice, they feel discomfort or like they have to pee. Others feel nothing at all. Because for them, there’s nothing there.

NOW FOR THE TRICKIEST PART OF this story—and, TBH, the reason this is even a story at all. Despite the lack of scientific evidence, there are still lots of G-spot believers, many of them super-smart, well-meaning sex educators. They’re a pretty heated group (one hung up on us when we called for an interview) and not...entirely...wrong. Their point is: If a woman believes she’s found her G-spot, that should outweigh any lack of science. And specifically, if someone claims to have experienced G-spot pleasure, it seems “bizarre” to shut her down, says Kristen Mark, PhD, a sex educator at the University of Kentucky. “That feels like going backward.”

Fair. It’s just that, as Prause points out, “women deserve accurate information about their bodies.” Can’t we have our pleasure—and the truth too?

As Prause said (and this bears repeating), for some women, there is sexual sensitivity where the G-spot is supposed to be. But for others, there’s none. Or it’s to the left. Or it’s in a few places. And that’s kind of the whole point. It’s all okay. It can all feel good.

What everyone can agree on is that we need more research. Women’s sexual health is vastly understudied, and the scientific hurdles are borderline absurd. In 2015, Prause tried to get a trial going at UCLA that would study orgasms in women who were, you know, actually alive. The board heard her out but wanted a promise that her test subjects “wouldn’t climax” because they didn’t like the optics of women orgasming in their labs. (As you’ve already guessed, the study wasn’t approved.)

So yeah, a new kind of thinking about female pleasure is going to take a minute for certain people to get on board with. Like those brunch friends who go on and on about G-spot rapture. And like men, who might love the idea of the G-spot best of all. A G-spot orgasm requires penetration, which just so happens to be the way most guys prefer to get off. “If you’ve got a penis, it would be super convenient if the way the person with a vagina has pleasure is for you to put your penis in their vagina,” says Emily Nagoski, PhD, author of Come as You Are, a book that explores the science of female sexuality. Related: 80 percent of the men in Cosmo’s survey said they believe every woman has a G-spot; nearly 60 percent called it the “best way” for a female partner to achieve pleasure. (“Once you rally enough experience like myself, you can find it on every girl,” one supremely confident guy told us.)

Just like it did for women, the G-spot gave men a universal performance metric and the “cultural message that pleasure for women happens by pounding on their vaginas with your penis,” says Nagoski.

Things were this close to going in a much better direction. “In the early ’80s, there was research that was really putting the clitoris front and center,” explains Nagoski. “Then along came the G-spot research, creating this pressure for women to be orgasmic from vaginal stimulation even though most women’s bodies just aren’t wired that way. And if you really think about why vaginal stimulation matters so much, it’s because it puts the focus on male pleasure.”

GO AHEAD AND LET THAT SINK in while we gear up to talk about the fallout. Not only the sexual frustration (although that, definitely that) but also the giant emotional burden the G-spot unwittingly dropped on all of us. Turns out, the thing that was supposed to awaken and equalize our sex lives came with a really shitty side effect: shame.

More than half of the women in Cosmo’s survey reported feeling inadequate or frustrated knowing that others are able to orgasm in a way they can’t. Eleven percent said this made them avoid sex entirely. “I have friends who say they always climax from intercourse alone and they’re like, ‘You just haven’t found it yet,’” says Alyssa, a Cosmo reader. “It’s like they’re the lucky ones.”

That’s why on one recent Tuesday, another Cosmo reader, Beth, found herself sitting in a room that looked oddly like a vagina—low, pink light, a candle burning softly nearby—getting her first round of G-spot homework. She and her husband had hired a sex therapist to help them feel more in sync sexually. Basically, he wanted it a lot more than she did, probably because she was still waiting for something...bigger. “I can have a clitoral orgasm,” she says. “But knowing that there’s something better, I wanted to experience that.”

🩸🩸THE G-SPOT IS ALLEGEDLY… “Just go up with your finger and make a G.”  “Slightly out of reach.” “It depends.” “On the outside of the labia.” “Part of the lady parts.” “A secret place.”🩸🩸

The couple’s take-home tasks were a checklist of “sexy” moves, designed to help them find Beth’s G-spot so she could have The Orgasm. “The night we did doggy-style, it felt...god, there was the sound of skin smacking and my husband asking me if it was working. It was terrible.” (We fact-checked this with Beth’s husband. Oh yeah, “it sucked.”) After that, they gave up.

Other couples are still searching: 22 percent of guys say that finding a woman’s G-spot is the number one goal of sex, which helps explain the 31 percent of women who say they’re dealing with exasperated partners. Prause worries about that. She says: “You’ll hear guys say things like, ‘My last girlfriend wasn’t this much work,’ or ‘You take a long time to orgasm,’ or ‘This worked for the last person I slept with.’ That makes women question if they’re normal. And that, we hate.”

WHICH IS WHY WE’RE CALLING OFF THE SEARCH. WE’RE done with the damn “spot” and we’re sorry, again, that we ever brought it up. And actually: Unless sex researchers make a surprisingly major breakthrough, Cosmo won’t be publishing any more G-spot sex positions or “how to find it” guides.

“What would truly be revolutionary for women’s sex lives is to engage with what research has found all along: the best predictors of sexual satisfaction are intimacy and connection,” adds Debby Herbenick, PhD, a professor at Indiana University School of Public Health and a research fellow at the Kinsey Institute.

The science world is revolutionizing, too, trying to figure out how to rebrand the G-spot into something more (and by “more,” we mean actually) accurate. Whipple stands by her “area.” Italian researchers have suggested renaming it the somewhat less sexy “clitoral vaginal urethral complex.” Herbenick has her own ideas: “First of all, it should not be named after a man. It’s a female body we’re talking about, and just because a man wrote about it doesn’t mean he was the first to understand or experience it.” But anyway, she’d go with “zone.”

As for us, we’re going to kick off this new era with a 100 percent G-spot-free piece of smarter, wiser sex advice, courtesy of Nagoski: “If it feels good, you’re doing it right.” Call that whatever you want.

WELL THIS IS A BUMMER...

YEAH, IT FOOLED US TOO

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cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years

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As sensitive as he's always been, Crockett has a good handle on his reactions. He's a trauma surgeon. Sometimes surgeries smell bad. Ones on bowels? They're awful, have him reeling afterwards and trying not to throw up. And working the ED, he gets a lot of strong smells off patients and their families. Distress, fear, pain. They're to be expected, and although it's strong, Crockett has taken to finding ways to keep himself from getting too overwhelmed and hurting himself.

For one, he takes inhibitors to corral his own scent. It's strong, he knows, and he'd prefer not to scare his patients with it. But he also has a monthly order of menthol that he keeps in his locker to rub under his nose on days when he gets overwhelmed. And having Ethan or Noah groom him in the break room is pretty helpful too. He's been doing this a long time and he's okay, he's capable of working through it. Like that woman whose uterus was ruptured in a forced c-section, she had reeked of distress and blood. So much that it made him dizzy. But he applied some menthol and worked through it.

This is different.

He can smell it before he even gets into the OR, even with a thick layer of menthol trying to protect him. When he actually walks in, it's like being punched in the face. Immediately Crockett gags and takes a step back, but there's nowhere to go and no one to replace him. He has to do this. His patient's life depends on it.

So he tries to ignore the smell as best as he can, cutting beneath the dead tissue to find something, anything that's still alive and salvageable. This young woman has a future. She can't die, certainly not because Crockett is weak and unable to push through a little discomfort to do his job. He's been through worse, he tells himself. It's a lie. But he keeps going until it's too late. Until he can't save her and she flatlines on his table. Until he declares her legally dead. He tries, he tries to stay and be respectful. He can't. The reek of dead tissue, combines with the way death wafts off her and the smell of it all clinging to his clothes- it's too much.

He practically runs out of the room, pulling off his surgical protection and throwing it away. He's going to be sick. He's going to be sick, and there may be tears in his eyes when he reaches the bathroom and drops to his knees in front of a toilet to retch. That scent doesn't help. He throws up until his body is empty and it's just dry heaves, and then washes his face, his hands. Everyone will be able to smell it on him. He wants to go home.

Going home isn't an option.

Crockett looks at himself in the mirror. He’s visibly shaking, his cheeks are flushed, and he can tell that his jaw is a little swollen with irritation. But it’s fine. He needs to look after his patients, whatever the personal cost. It doesn’t matter that he can barely handle the smell of the infection. He’s fine.

Before he really has the opportunity to calm down, there’s another patient in need of his attention, with the same disease eating them alive. Crockett covers his face with his hands for a moment before running back to the lounge to apply another layer of cold menthol like it can protect him. He just needs to stay calm, and everything is going to be alright. The next patient’s infection is in the arm, not yet breaking skin. But still, it permeates the air, and before he even starts, Crockett knows he won’t be able to save this man’s arm. But he tries, he still tries, because he has no other choice. Even as the smell makes him sick, even as he feels like he might pass out, he keeps going because that’s the sort of doctor, the sort of person, that he is.

After this surgery, he gets sick again. He can’t help it. He’s overwhelmed and it hurts and his usual methods to get through this aren’t enough. He can’t do this, and just thinking about the smell makes him dry heave over the sink again. And Crockett knows, if he mentions this to anyone, he’ll be sent home, possibly with a medication he doesn’t want to treat “hysteria” he doesn’t have.

Crockett steels himself to walk back out of the safety of the bathroom, only to immediately bump into Noah. Noah, who doesn’t smell like death, but reassurance and pine trees and other natural, safe things. He grabs onto Noah’s white coat and inhales deeply for the first time today, letting his lungs fill free of the reek of all the death.

“You good, Dr. Marcel?”

He swallows hard. He doesn’t want to say it. “I may need you to take over some surgeries today, do you think you could handle that?”

“I- well, if you think I’m ready to-”

“Yes or no, Sexton.”

Noah nods. “I’d be happy to. Just- are you feeling okay? You seem a little…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

But Crockett still tilts his head to the side slightly, enough to count as an invitation. Immediately, Noah cups the back of his head gently and noses along Crockett’s jaw. He has to be able to smell the distress, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he replaces the scent with his own, strong enough for Crockett to be able to smell it on himself and start to put him at ease for the first time today. Noah’s good at that. Comfort. He makes Crockett feel calm, like he can take care of himself. Ethan just makes him feel safe and protected, taken care of. It’s a different sort of love, from a different sort of Alpha. He doesn’t know which he needs more today, but at least he can breathe a little better now.

“I’ll take care of the surgeries, just- just let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Crockett nods and sends a message to Goodwin before going to the lounge and sitting down. He hates giving up, but he can’t keep doing this. Just thinking about it makes him want to vomit again. God, he’s so weak. He wonders for the briefest of moments if this is evidence that he’s unfit to be a surgeon like everyone has always said.

But then Ethan arrives, and takes a seat beside him. Fresh baked bread, a hint of spice- comforting scents that dance over him and make him feel less afraid for his job after stepping out for, at minimum, a break. There’s no touch, but there’s reassurance.

“Noah said you asked him to cover for you.”

Crockett nods and shifts to give a little more space between them. He knows he carries the rotting scent of death, a handful of his own distress, and the fresh scent of Noah’s marking. Although he’s not sure how sensitive Ethan’s own nose is, he’d be a fool not to recognize that it’s all well within detection.

“A couple of your team also had to step out,” Ethan says. “It’s okay to need a break, or to go home. Maggie couldn’t handle more than the first patient, remember?”

There’s no good response. Crockett wishes it wasn’t so hard. But he’s at least starting to calm down, with the aid of space from the OR and Noah’s comfort, and it’ll be better once he can go home and settle, but in the meanwhile, he’s here. Here and drowning. But then Ethan reaches out to him and takes his hand, gentle in contrast to the callouses built up by hard work. A military man, through and through, something that shows on every part of him, down to the roughness of his palms.

Ethan leans toward him, nudges his jaw in permission, but Crockett just turns away. Noah helped. He’s afraid that anything more will push him further toward screaming and never stopping. At least Ethan doesn’t push, and instead gets to his feet with a hand extended.

“I’ll drive you home, okay?”

That does sound better than taking public transport like this, in the middle of an outbreak. He’d be able to smell the sickness on anyone within ten feet once he’s out of the hospital crowding him in it. Ethan’s car will be better. It always smells like Ethan and air freshener, and the vents help keep him from getting too overwhelmed.

So he heads outside, into bright fresh air that doesn’t clutter him with blood, and goes to Ethan’s car, a hand on the small of his back to guide him the entire way. He’ll admit, he’s fairly grateful for the touch, and it helps to not be alone. He’s just dreading what comes when he’s left on his own again with nothing but memories and terrible smells that cling to his skin. It’ll take four showers in strip soap at least to put a dent in it.

But he’s safe for now, surrounded by Ethan and coated in Noah, enough to at least make it through his showers before crawling into bed and falling into the heaviest sleep he can manage.

#abo!med

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the-voltage-diaries · 5 years

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Head Hits and Personality Shifts - Eisuke Ichinomiya

Disclaimer: MC’s name is Zela. Her profession changes depending on the bidder. This part is about Eisuke only. The others are a work in progress, lol.

She had been humming Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect’, a song she had recently found an obsession in, when it happened. Once again justifying her clumsy personality, she had tripped on the ladder while cleaning the windows, landing on the ground. Her head had hit the nearby wall in the process, making her vision blurry for a moment. Although the fall hadn’t been that bad, the meeting of head and the wall sure was, making her lose her consciousness for a moment or two.

As if on cue, Eisuke had entered the lounge, his tablet in hand. With his attention completely on the documents Soryu had sent regarding the upcoming auctions, he had failed to notice his unconscious girlfriend until he heard her groan. Immediately setting his tablet aside and rushing to her, Eisuke’s attempts to help her up were met my her shifting away from him as if she had been struck by lightning. He could only look on in confusion, wondering why his girlfriend, who loved being close to him, flinched and moved away when he touched her.

“Hey, don't touch me. I bloody hate it when people touch me. I don't like all that unnecessary physical contact.”

Her words had done nothing to ease his confusion, instead with his eyebrows still knit together with worry, he had wondered if Zela had lost her memories, giving rise to the fear of losing her somehow.

“Oh, and by the way, where are we going this evening? I’ll pick out an outfit on the basis of the place we’re having our date at.”

Eisuke had let out a sigh he didn’t know he had been holding in, relieved. She seemed to have her memories intact, considering she remembered being his girlfriend and their date today. His mind then focused on the next thing which concerned him: Why had Zela run away from him like that? And what was about her hating people touching her?

Not wasting anymore time than he already did, Eisuke had immediately called up Luke to come and tell him what was wrong.

“Hitting her head might’ve fiddled with her nerves and brain, resulting a change of behavior. No need to worry though, there isn’t any serious damage to her brain, so she should be back to her normal self soon," Luke had said. How soon though, was something Eisuke could only wonder.

Shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts, he stepped forward to pick up his car keys, turning around at the sound of his girlfriend's voice calling out to him.

"Eisuke? Are we ready to leave?" Zela asked, looking down to smooth out the barely-there wrinkles on the trousers, missing the look of utter bewilderment spread across her boyfriend's face.

Zela, who usually preferred wearing bright and pastel colours, skirts and dresses, now stood in front of him wearing a black shirt paired with maroon trousers, a jacket of similar colour completing her look. His sweet, adorable and cute-sy girlfriend now looked like a person who had it all together, someone who you wouldn't want to mess with. Something like his Zela's alter ego, of sorts. If he was being completely honest, he had been unnerved by this personality switch in his girlfriend, even though he couldn't deny he found this version of her appealing too.

Nodding his head, he took her hand in his, walking towards the elevators. Once they reached the entrance of the majestic hotel he called his, Eisuke could only look on in amusement as Zela's eyes widened slightly, shocked at the realisation that it was Eisuke who was going to drive them to their destination, not some mere driver.

Sitting in the passenger seat, her attention was mostly on the world outside the car window, with bothered Eisuke a little, for he wanted her attention to be focused on him, not the scenery. Smirking at the idea that popped in his head, one which he was sure would make Zela blush like she mostly did, he stopped the car at the next traffic signal. Turning his head to see Zela’s attention still on the view of what lay beyond the window, Eisuke tugged on her hand - hard - pulling her into his embrace and kissing the daylights out of her. And of course, he was rewarded well with that rosy blush he had been aching to see.

After that, the journey had been peaceful, at least for Zela, with no surprise kisses. Soon, they reached their destination - the beach. But this time, they were not here to go splashing in the water. ‘Its so overrated,’ Zela had retorted, instead suggesting a new way to enjoy the beauties of the place. So here they were today, not in their swimwear but some casual clothes, not running around in the water but sitting in the sand, not kissing amidst the waves but holding hands, not enjoying just each other but also the view. This wasn’t so bad, Eisuke thought, even though Zela hadn’t been very welcoming of the idea of sitting on his lap, her discomfort with physical contacts still bothering him.

Sitting there on the beach, enjoying the calm, silent embrace of the ocean, while their fingers were interlaced and sitting in the sand between them gave him different but deep sense of intimacy and security, although Eisuke would never admit that out loud. Minutes became hours in the blink of the eye, and by the time they got up after watching the sunset, both felt a bit more connected to other, in some unexplained way.

Not wanting to waste the rest of the night away, Zela had suggested to drive them both to another place. Overcoming the initial hurdle of Eisuke’s playfully sexual remarks, she drove them to a place she had never told him about. A place, which ranked high in her list of favourite places.

Eisuke had no idea where his girlfriend was driving them, and he only got more confused when she stopped at a store to buy two blankets. Although he was quiet the entire ride, he couldn’t deny the curiosity that had been picking at his mind.

His unspoken questions were answered soon, though, when Zela finally stopped the car and asked him to come out. The only way one could describe Eisuke’s reaction would be to say he was beyond amazed, he was... bewildered. The dark night sky was covered in beautiful stars, the quiet around the area somehow making them seem even brighter.

While he was focused on the starts, he once again failed to notice Zela trip over a stone, her head meeting the roof of the car with a bang. Running over to her side to ensure she was okay, he was about to touch her when his hands stopped mid-air, as if remembering how she had flinched away from him. Before he could completely retract his hands, Zela spoke up, apparently having recovered quickly.

“Ouch. That hurt,” she said, and the way she rubbed the spot on her head with her poker face replaced with an adorable expression of being in pain was all it took for Eisuke to realise his girlfriend was back to normal. After making sure her head was okay and asking her a few questions about their day, Eisuke was relieved at the realisation that Zela still remembered their date, and all that had happened that day. After giving her a quick summary of what personality switch had happened, embracing her tightly to ensure she was back to normal, and exchanging a few tender kisses, they decided to enjoy the place and the calm - the reason for which they had come all this way.

Eisuke walked over and sat down beside Zela on the edge of the cliff, their feet dangling above the valley. Their hands remained interlinked, the only difference this time being that instead of sitting a little away from Eisuke, his girlfriend was cuddled up to him.

And as much as Eisuke enjoyed the other personality and the different sense of intimacy on the beach, he couldn’t deny that having Zela’s warmth close to him was what gave him a sense of belonging, a sense of coming home.

#kbtbb #eisuke ichinomiya #kissed by the baddest bidder #personality shift #head hit

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luffywhatelse · 5 years

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Even when there is no star in sight

A/N: I thought about Ed's moments of sadness, his nightmares, his guilty conscience and maybe feelings of inadequacy. And then I added Winry who helps him when he's physically and literally in pieces. It's set in Resembool, after the fight against Scar. Words: 2034 Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance, Hurt/Comfort Pairing: Ed x Winry Rating: T Completely immersed in water, holding his breath, he opened his eyes and came face to face with the woman who was watching him: a shiver ran down his spine and the boy sank even further, bumping on the warm bottom of the bathtub.

His mother Trisha just smiled, with chapped lips, giving way to a silence so deafening that Ed's eardrums were like about to rupture.

It's all physics, the pressure is blocking my upper airway, I need to keep calm – his thoughts were faster than light, so he just exhaled – "gas sylvester", carbon dioxide out of my lungs.

He laid still, until his survival instinct kicked in and made him emerge from the water as he continued to stare at the vivid apparition in front of him.

Now Edward was no longer holding his breath but felt trapped anyway; a cold windblast chilled him to the bones.

He kept his gaze on her, sitting on the opposite edge of the tub.

"Hi sweetheart, you need some help?"

His heartbeat quickened wildly; his eyes widened noticing her approaching him, graceful and loving as always as he stood petrified. The woman ran her fingers through her son's wet blond hair, softly touched his face, and then placed her hand on the boy's sore right shoulder.

"I was starting to think you’d forgotten me," she spoke in a sad voice kneeling at the side of the tub. "Don’t be scared of me, Ed," she whispered in his ear, her lips resting on his forehead while he blinked overwhelmed.

Then the woman moved away enough to look into his eyes, her expression became serious, her look darkened; she creeped him out.

"You’re even more feckless than you were as a child, or maybe you haven’t changed a bit," she pronounced those words a few inches from his face, looking him straight in the eyes. "Do it, Edward," she said imposing upon him but always keeping the distance, "Come to me once and for all." The boy's breathing became faster and, suddenly, in the distance, a familiar voice called his attention:

"Edo!"

He opened his eyes, immediately sat up in the middle of the tub and took a deep breath as the water spilled on the floor.

The steamy tiles in front of him looked like they were covered with tears. He sat for a moment in the ripples, clenched his left fist, grinding his teeth as a persistent ringing tormented his ears.

"Edo" the voice he thought he dreamed along with everything else was clear now. He looked up to the left, meeting those blue eyes.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing heavily until that empty silence was filled again by the sounds of life around him. He felt reassured, everything had found its place and he gradually came back to reality: the mirror above the sink was completely fogged, the towels were white and fluffy.

He instantly remembered.

~ Edward hadn’t slept very much and was in a bad mood. His automail arm was still under repair after being destroyed in a thousand pieces and even just that made him very angry; then he couldn’t even toss and turn in his bed. At times he almost got the feeling it would have been better not to have any automail: because of the fact he was used to them, he took for granted every basic movement that he shouldn’t have been able to make.

But there were still a few days of unbearable discomfort waiting for him, at least until Winry had repaired the automail. Still in bed, he rubbed his aching neck, stood up and, limping on his temporary leg, moved on to Winry's laboratory. He found her sitting, bent over the table, and working. This also irritated him: knowing that she probably didn’t go to sleep at all just to complete those repairs as quickly as he had asked her.

He felt guilty, even though he knew he needed it.

Outside it was a gloomy day, befitting his mood, and he got a little bit of a headache.

Just what I needed – he thought to himself.

He entered the bathroom and remembered when brushing his teeth with his left hand was a challenge while now, after four years of training, he was completely used to it. He opened the water in the tub. The blowing of the hot water suddenly brought him back to a few days before, during the fight with the Ishvalian who had destroyed his mechanical arm. It was raining and Edward got knocked down, on the wet ground. Scared, he had tried to back away and escape from Scar heading straight for him but, in that moment of weakness, he had practically forgotten he no longer had an arm and so, instinctively he had put his right hand on the asphalt behind him, finding himself lying facedown, slamming his right side into the puddle of rainwater, with no support. Shocked, insecure. Helpless.

If the idea of being out of play for a few days made him mad, not being sufficiently self-reliant was even worse. Despite this, he felt the need to take a bath.

With a finger he grabbed the shirt behind his neck and tried to take it off, but he was so angry that he ended up in a maze of cloth that made him feel inside a straitjacket; he got out of it finally ripping it with a disjointed movement and a roar of rage. Exasperated, he took off his boxers and slid into the tub.

He sat down and felt the anger piling up; he knew very well that it was foolish, but he couldn’t do anything about it: phantom limb pain, trouble and frustration had always had that kind of effect. They made him angry and angry, generating a circle of pathetic thoughts. Sometimes, instead of pushing him to get to the end of the matter, that whirlwind of emotions depressed him horribly. There he was: a boy of barely fifteen, a disabled and increasingly pissed off State Alchemist, who had only hard knocks throughout his life, now was also pathetic, without an arm and with a prosthesis instead of his left leg that made him seem even more invalid.

Flooded with those anxieties but extremely tired, he had ended up falling asleep in the tub, exhausted.

~ "Edo, are you alright?"

Winry was on the door and he, still lost in his thoughts and his bubble bath, saw her enter.

"Come on, I'll help you,” she said.

"Wh-what?" he asked, caught unawares.

But she didn’t give him time to reply, "You were asleep in the tub," she said. With gestures that seemed so coordinated to him, the girl knelt next to the tub and wiped away a few drops of water – or maybe they were tears he hadn’t realized crying – on his face, under his puffy and tired eyes.

A dejavu brought him back memories; she had done the exact same gesture as they were kids and he told her he was afraid Al hated him. His eyes were covered with a cold cloth that was used to help the fever go down. She had it shifted to the right, finding his tears and drying them with care and apprehension. At that moment, Edward hadn’t felt exposed after showing her his sadness. He had allowed himself to be consoled – for as much as he could find comfort in such a situation – by that touch and that look which was so full of affection that had reminded him of his mother's, in some ways.

"Can I wash your hair?" she called him back to the present.

He nodded, even this time deciding to let her do that. Conscious of the pout that still puckered his lips and that he was unable to pave, exactly like when he let his mom treat his scraped knees as a child.

"Then lift up your head."

He obeyed, adjusting his back a little. She opened the water and guided his hand to take the shower head. Ed leaned back with his torso, keeping his arm up.

The touch of Winry's hands on his head was the first pleasant experience after nearly twenty-four hours of distress and sent a bolt of pure electricity down his spine. The bad mood was dissolving as if it was washed off.

Her hands began to draw small regular circles on his skull, dwelling in some points.

Edward left his own shoulders drop a few inches, realizing he had kept them tense all the time.

"Lift your head again, so I can rinse your hair."

He raised his left arm, which he had relaxed in the meantime, and squeezed the shower head before reaching back. The soft caress of the water was pleasant, but not as much as Winry’s touch while she took great care to ensure that not even a drop fall into his eyes.

She turned the water off again.

He lowered his head, still a little lost in the pleasure of that feeling. How long had it been since he felt pampered like that? When was the last time he had dared to put his pride aside?

Like he had already done before with his tears, now Ed decided to ignore the warmth in his heart and the need to let go completely and let off steam. He stretched his lips in a grimace trying to hold back that river in flood but the sweet taste of Winry’s tenderness reassured him.

"Can I wash your back?" once again she didn’t hesitate waiting for his answer and, with the same careful gestures, neither too slow nor too fast, poured the bubble bath on her hands and then rub them together, meticulously.

The contact of her hands on his shoulders caused him another shiver and this time he wasn’t able to contain it: his whole body shook under her touch. She seemed not to notice it and ran her hands over his shoulders and arm, down to his wrist. He felt the wrinkle in the space between his eyebrows disappear. She rubbed his shoulders up to his chest with energetic gestures that weren’t sensual at all, but he still had goose bumps. He didn’t dare look at himself, his body looked awkward, so he closed his eyes and gave himself up. He felt her spread the soap on his skin, even where the skin became more sensitive to tickling.

He kept his eyes closed, his breath stuck in his throat when she stopped. It was a moment that seemed to go on forever.

What happens now? He wondered. The sound and the heat of water were the only answers to his question. She was rinsing his body, always with the greatest care, which now began getting on his nerves: Why? Why is she doing it? The question suddenly crept into Edward's mind. Not only she was working hard on his automail, giving him priority over any other job she had to complete. But now this. He felt kind of useless.

You’re even more feckless than you were as a child, those terrible words Ed’s unconscious had made his mother say were in his head like a scream that went on and on. And insecurity came back aggressively. Did Winry act out of pity? He didn’t want her pity!

Then the water stopped flowing again.

"I'll get you a towel," she said.

She wrapped his hair in the towel and, once again, he was impressed by her manual dexterity. Winry's face was a few inches from Ed's but he suddenly looked down.

“Thank you…” he whispered. His hand reach out to her and then grab her wrist, "Now just get out… please, Winry."

The girl didn’t speak but silently and gently put her hand on his shoulder and stood up.

Edward, not showing it, surrendered himself and focused on her touch. He felt Winry was truly by his side and connected to him; that wasn’t like a touch that’s perfunctory or detached, it was warm, loving, grounding and gave him a sense of calm stability that immediately made him feel safe.

And just like that, Ed felt that everything made sense again.

#edwin #edxwin #edward elric #ed x winry #Edward x Winry #Winry Rockbell #trisha elric #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fan fiction #my fan fiction #fanfic #fma fan fiction #angst #drama #romance #hurt comfort

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avatarmerida · 5 years

Text

Newlyweds

Hey hey hey there @randomlyopeneddictionary I’m your @fmasecretsanta2018 You mentioned that EdWin is your OTP and truthfully I’ve never written anything focusing on them, but I gave it my best shot! Hope you like it and happy holidays fam!!

"Hurry up Al, we can’t be late!” hollered Ed as he quickly ran up the hill, nearly dropping the suitcase he carried.

“I’m trying brother!” responded Alphonse frantically. “But it’s so windy! I’m worried I’ll get blown away!”

“Try harder!” panted Ed, struggling to hide his own struggling. “I told Winry we’d be there by now and your detour made us late!”

“Don’t yell at me brother!” cried Alphonse. “I told you, I didn’t know that cat was pregnant!”

“Yeah, well I’m glad we got to find that out AFTER YOU LET HER SLEEP ON MY COAT!” exclaimed Ed, shuddering at the thought of the stains on his favorite jacket, tucked away in his suitcase.

“Oh, get over it!” scoffed Al. “Winry will understand if we’re an hour late, we had to take the later train!”

“Well, uh, we’re not an hour late,” muttered Edward.

“Yes we are,” said Al. “We were supposed to be here at 4, and it’s not even quite 5 yet.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” admitted Ed. “Except I didn’t tell Winry to be here at 4…”

“Why not?”

“She’s been working on that new series of auto-mail and you know how she get when she starts working.” laughed Ed, nervously. “So I figured she’d leave late anyway, and if I told her an earlier time she’d get there on time…”

“Brother, when did you tell Winry to meet us?”

“10 AM!” exclaimed a very angry Winry as soon as she saw the Elric brothers enter.

“Hi Winry,” whispered Ed, avoiding the fire in her eyes.

“I woke up at 7am to catch the 8am train to ride 2 hours to get here the whole time worrying I’m going to be late!” she yelled. “And then when I get here I don;’ see you or Al so I figure okay they’re a little late, that's fine so I wait a few minutes and that turns into 7 HOURS!”

“We, uh, had to catch a later train?” tried Edward.

“Oh I bet!” screamed Winry, towering over the boy. “Because it turns out your reservation wasn’t even until 4! WHAT THE HELL, ED?”

“Winry I’m so sorry it’s all my fault!” wailed Alphonse to no avail.

“Oh no, don’t even try it Al; this has Ed written all over it!”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry!” exclaimed Edward, desperately. “Look, I’ll buy you a new wrench to say I’m sorry, okay?”

“Oh no,” began Winry, the fire in her eyes becoming more controlled but just as dangerous. “You’re going to buy me a new wrench and the new high end chrome bolts and you’ll pay to have a new sign commissioned for the shop!”

“What? Are you crazy, do you know how many cens that’ll cost?!” “Couple thousand for every hour I had to wait, seems fair.”

“WHAT? I-.”

“Brother, we both know you’re going to do it so can we just check in already?” pleaded Alphonse. “I can’t take anymore of this bickering!”

“Fine,” grumbled Ed as Winry’s face became bright and smug and the trio made their way over to the main desk.

“How may I help you?” Greeted the round faced lady sitting behind the desk with a large smile.

“We’re the Elrics, the city officials set aside some rooms for us?” Said Ed.

“Yes of course,” said the woman, looking over the paper in front of her, and then looked up and noticed Winry. “And who is this?”

“Oh, this is my mechanic, Winry. She’ll be staying with us.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s not possible,” replied the concierge. “The council has very specific rules when requesting alchemists, all housing funds and reimbursements can be used on hired alchemists and immediate family only.”

“That’s fine, we’ll just get her another room.”

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid.”

“What?” Exclaimed Ed. “Come on, she’s-.”

“Oh Ed, you’re so silly,” interrupted a Winry sweetly, taking him by the arm. “It’s still so new, you keep forgetting. Yes I’m his mechanic but I’m also his wife.”

“Huh?” gasped Ed nervously.

“Yes, I’m his wife,” continued Winry with an upbeat smile. “We’re newlyweds see, so I’m also entitled to the free and luxurious hotel room.”

“And I was the best man!” chimed in Al, mostly for his own satisfaction.

“Uh, yeah,” said Ed, seeing her point. “We’re married so let’s get out of here and go up to the room.”

“Goodness me is this your honeymoon?” the concierge squealed.

“Uh yeah, I guess,” muttered Ed, looking towards the ceiling his face becoming as red as his jacket.

“Oh how sweet,” the woman continued. “Ya know, how about I upgrade you to the honeymoon suite? We don’t get alot of newlyweds down here, so it’s hardly ever used. “

“No, that’s fine,” said Ed quickly becoming even more flustered, much to Winry’s delight.

“Oh I insist!”

“Why thank you so much!” smiled Winry, resting her head on Ed’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine anything more romantic! Isn’t that right Eddy bear?” Ed didn’t respond, feeling Winry’s teasing eyes on him as well as the smugness Al was sending him sensing his obvious discomfort.

“Oh yeah, they’re super in love,” offered Al. “I always feel like such a third wheel.”

“Not helping Al,” whispered his brother, angrily.

“They’re always holding hands and laughing…”

“Oh yeah, that’s us!” giggled Winry, her thoughts consumed with getting to the comfy bed awaiting her and a long, hot bath.

“...and kissing.” finished Al, his voice full of deviance.

Both Winry and Ed’s eyes widened in shock as they caught onto what Al was doing. Winry loosened her grip on Ed as her face turned a shade similar to his and her fake husband began to laugh loudly and nervously.

“Yeah okay we really should be headed up now,” said Ed. “So much to do, getting started with our research, plus I need my leg adjusted, hehe... Actinium, Aluminium, Americium. Antimony...”

“Oh yes, why don’t you give her a kiss before you head on up?” sang the woman. “It truly warms my heart seeing two young lovers staring their lives together.”

“Oh, you know it’s been a long day...” rambled WInry.

“My breath smells really bad...” added Ed.

“We’re not much for public displays of affection...”

“Her breath smells really bad...”

“Oh hush, you two are obviously so in love I bet you’re dying to do it!” she insisted.

“Yeah, go ahead you two,” teased Alphonse. “I mean, what married couple finds it odd to kiss right after their wedding? I mean, it would seem extremely suspicious and could jeopardize the nice room this marriage allowed you to have...”

“We get it Al,” said Ed through clenched teeth, then turned his attention to Winry whose smile had went from bubbly to distressed. He bit his lip, knowing the hole they had so quickly dug for themselves was not getting any better with time. Knowing that overthinking it would only drag on this situation and there was no going back. So he he summoned any pride he had left and shoved it aside as he lunged forward and quickly touch Winry’s lips with his.

The contact was light and barely lasted two seconds but it was enough to send to two friends into a tizzy. Winry’s hand quickly covered her mouth as she began to sputter and she couldn’t think of much else to do but walk towards the stairs. She stared at the floor as she whispered things to herself that neither Ed nor Al could hear.

Ed stood in his place, equally flustered as the delighted lady handed him the room keys.

“Oh, you to are just so cute!” she sighed. “Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything at all. Enjoy your stay!”

Ed just nodded and slowly followed Winry to the stairs, his brother following behind practically having to push him.

“Oh we will,” responded Al, enjoying every second of the awkwardness. “I get to have my own room.

#edwin #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist secret santa #@randomlyopeneddictionary #winry rockbell #edward elric

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